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coffeeshades · 1 year ago

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credits to the gif maker!

LOVE IS COMPLICATED - PART IV

—know it’s for the better

summary: the trials and tribulations of falling in love or two idiots who can't get their shit together.

pairing: pedro pascal x actress/singer!reader.

word count: 7.2k

warnings: 18+ (minors dni). mentions of sex. angst (heavy on this i'm sorry in advance) cussing, age gap, mentions of drugs and alcohol. no use of y/n, if i missed something please let me know!

a/n: hi everyone! yes yes i know i disappeared for like 5 months but let's pretend i didn't. i've seen all of your messages and comments and i'm overwhelmed with all the love you've shown to the previous parts. thank you so much to everyone who likes, reblogs and leaves a kind message, i see you and love u. here's a new lil chapter, i hope you enjoy it. happy reading!!

masterlist with next parts!

February 28th, 2019

Cort Theater, NY

The day was here. The day he had been eagerly waiting on for months. The anticipation had been building up, and now he was finally going to perform in front of a live audience for the first time in what felt like an eternity. The months of rehearsals and hard work had all led up to this moment, and he was ready to give it his all.

He was starring in the new Broadway production of “King Lear" as Edmond, one of the play's most complex and intriguing characters. The role had challenged him in ways he had never experienced before, pushing him to delve deep into the character's motivations and emotions. As he stepped onto the stage, the bright lights shining down on him, he felt a surge of adrenaline and a sense of purpose.

And just like that, three hours and twenty-five minutes later, the final curtain fell on the play. The audience erupted into thunderous applause, their standing ovation a testament to their incredible performance. Exhausted but exhilarated, he knew he had given everything he had to the role and left it all on the stage.

His mind raced with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. The rush of adrenaline slowly subsided, and as much as he wanted to hear what everyone thought of his performance, there was only one person whose opinion mattered to him right now: yours.

The last time he saw you was on your last day in Chile, almost two months ago. He vividly remembered the bittersweet farewell outside his family's house—you getting into the car and him closing the door. A door that seemed to separate their worlds. Since then, they had kept in touch through messages and occasional video calls, but it wasn't the same. Of course it wasn't. It will never be.

The distance between them had only fueled his longing, making him yearn for your presence even more. Constantly trying to derail his one-track mind.

He knows you're here. He had invited his siblings and closest friends. However, he was unsure of your attendance until an hour before the show, when he received a text from Oscar:

"She's coming with me. Stop pacing and good luck."

He hadn't really discussed what happened back in Chile with Oscar or anyone, for that matter, but he could tell everyone knew something was off about how the two of you interacted. So when he got the message from Oscar, instead of freaking out about him potentially finding out about you two, he felt relieved.

It gave him comfort to know that Oscar knew him so well that he was aware of the fact that you were the cause of his two-hour pacing in his dressing room. It was also fucking stupid and laughable.

The energy backstage was electric as he walked through the bustling crowd of crew members and performers. He entered his dressing room, grabbing his phone and immediately seeing all the texts from friends and his siblings. He opened one from Javiera: "Felicidades, hermanito! Killed it. See you at The Terrace."

They had planned on getting together afterwards to celebrate. He replied with a grateful smile, saying he'd be there in a few and to get there without him. He quickly changed into a more casual outfit: dark jeans and a comfortable white t-shirt. Wanting to unwind after the intense performance, he made his way to the restaurant. It was only a few blocks away from the theater, so he decided to enjoy the pleasant evening weather and take a leisurely stroll.

Once he got there and stepped out of the elevator, Pedro watched you from across the room. A delicate hand rested on Oscar's shoulder as you chatted and laughed together. He felt a bubble of pride in himself swell; it warmed him to know that you were enjoying yourself and having a good time.

He felt like an intruder in your intimate moment, but he couldn't tear his eyes away. At least I don't have to miss her anymore because she's right there, he thought.

Pedro made his way across the room, trying to appear nonchalant as he approached the table.

"There he is! the man of the hour," Oscar said, a wide smile spreading across his face.

You turned. Eyes meeting, and it was like a car crash. A collision of emotions and memories flooding back all at once. The air between you crackled with unresolved tension, and Pedro's heart raced as he struggled to find the right words to say.

"You came," he said, his voice stern. Not reflecting at all the turmoil inside him. "Thank you."

"Well, you called," you replied, trying to sound nonchalant as well. Deep down, though, your heart was pounding just as fast as Pedro's.

Everyone seemed to ignore the palpable tension in the room and how he was losing his mind over these unclear conversations between your glances, carrying on with their congratulatory words to Pedro as if nothing had happened. But for Pedro and you, time stood still.

People settled into an easy conversation, enjoying each other's company as the night went on. As the night went on, Pedro and you exchanged occasional glances, silently acknowledging the shared secret that lingered. He wanted to scream it at the top of his lungs: We slept together! We slept together, and I loved it! He wanted every single person in New York to hear it. To feel the exhilaration and passion that consumed him.

However, to say it was to make it real, and Pedro wasn't quite ready to face the consequences of that reality just yet. He knew his place in her life. He knew it was better this way. However, the ever-present question of 'Is it better to have something and lose it than never have it at all?' haunted his mind.

The laughter and chatter around you provided a stark contrast to the whirlwind of emotions swirling within both of you. After a couple drinks, the atmosphere became more relaxed, and Pedro found himself engaging in lighthearted conversations with the people around him.

"Ah, man. I need a cigarrette," he said to Oscar, reaching into his pocket for his pack of cigarettes.

"Go, go. I'll keep everyone entertained," Oscar replied with a smile, gesturing towards the lively crowd. Pedro nodded gratefully and stepped outside, the cool night air providing a brief respite from the chaos of his thoughts. As he lit his cigarette and took a long drag, he couldn't help but wonder if the temporary escape it offered was worth the potential consequences.

"I thought you quit," you remarked, slowly making your way to him, eyebrows raised in mild surprise. Pedro turned and exhaled a cloud of smoke, a wistful expression crossing his face. "I did, but you know me. I have a hard time letting go of old habits," he admitted, flicking the ash off his cigarette.

"Care to share?" you asked, gesturing towards the pack of cigarettes in his hand. Pedro hesitated for a moment.

"No."

"No?" you repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't want to be the reason you get lung cancer."

You chuckled. "Ok, so you can do it, but I can't. Got it."

"I'm old; there's no use," he said with a shrug. "However, you have a whole life ahead of you."

"You make it sound like you're on a deathbed," you teased, taking a playful jab at Pedro's dramatic statement. He smirked and took a long drag from his cigarette before responding. "Maybe I am, in a way. But hey, we all gotta go someday, right?"

"That's...dark," you sighed. "mind if we changed the subject?"

"Sure, what do you want to talk about?" Pedro asked, flicking the ash from his cigarette. "Anything to distract me from my impending doom," he added with a smirk.

A laugh escaped your lips as you thought of a lighter topic. "How about we discuss your play?" Pedro's eyes lit up at the suggestion, momentarily forgetting about his earlier morbid thoughts.

"How are you feeling about your performance?"

Pedro looked at you for a little too long before finally responding, "It's funny I'm thinking about death because I've never felt more alive than on that stage."

"I could tell. I thought you were great, P."

He shook his head modestly. "Thanks, but I still feel like there's room for improvement. I want to push myself even further in the next shows."

"I get that."

Pedro watched you stare at the ground. His thoughts began to conspire against him, and as he was about to speak, you also looked up and opened your mouth at the same time. Words rushed out in unison.

You both paused, realizing you had interrupted each other. Pedro chuckled tentatively and motioned for you to go ahead. "Sorry, you first," he said with a polite smile.

You bit your lip, seemingly trying to gather your thoughts. "It's nothing. I just wanted to tell you I'll be in Europe for awhile. I got the Nolan movie."

"Woah, another one?"

"Yup. The role isn't as big as in interstellar, but I love working with him so much I couldn't pass up the opportunity." Pedro nodded, a mix of excitement and disappointment flickering across his face. "That's amazing; congratulations. I'm sure you'll do great, as always," he said sincerely. "I'll definitely miss having you around, though."

"Well, it's not like it'll be much different than now," you replied. "I haven't seen you since...since you know," your expression turned somber, cheeks flushed.

You were right. He was so busy with the play and his new role in the second installment of Wonder Woman that he barely had any time. He even had to cut back on his time on set for The Mandalorian reshoots this month and a few scenes for a second season that haven't even been announced.

"Yeah, I know."

"Should we talk about it?"

"I mean, there's nothing to talk about, really," Pedro said with a shrug, not daring to look you in the eye. "We slept together, and we both agreed that was it. No need to complicate things further." he tried to maintain a casual tone, but his voice wavered slightly.

Pedro wanted to scream. The nicotine clouding his lungs was the only thing keeping him from losing control. It seemed like all he was left with was a painful reminder of what could have been. He looked at you as he took another puff of smoke. Your eyes clearly searching for a trace of emotion in his face, but finding none.

A droplet of rain landed on Pedro's cheek as he inhaled deeply, feeling the coolness against his skin. It was as if the universe was reflecting his inner turmoil, adding to the weight of his unspoken words. He watched as you looked up at the darkening sky, the raindrops falling steadily on your hair.

The sound of thunder echoed in the distance, mirroring the storm brewing within him. He dropped the cigarrette from his hand, its ember extinguished by the rain.

"Isn't that the point of love, though?" you finally responded, your voice raspy and drunk with bitterness and resignation. "To complicate things, to make us question everything, to drive us to the brink of madness. Maybe it's not meant to be simple, Pedro."

His body tensed up, and your words clearly struck a nerve. The weight of your statement hung heavy in the air, leaving an uncomfortable silence between you both. It was no secret that his perspective on love had been tainted by past experiences, leaving him guarded and unwilling to let go of his pain.

"You're right. Which is why I would rather stay away from it. I've seen firsthand the havoc it can wreak on people's lives," Pedro admitted, his voice laced with a hint of frustration. He knows he's hurting you; he can see it by the way your eyes glisten with unshed tears.

"So that's it, then?" you asked, your voice trembling. "Is this how it is always going to be?"

But he can't risk it. "I thought we were on the same page with this."

He sees how your jaw tightens at his statement. He knows he's hurting you. He's twisting the knife even deeper. He can't seem to stop just because he believes it's for the better.

Please know it's for the better.

"Yeah, I guess it's better this way," you spat back, your voice filled with anger. Of course, you could tell exactly how he was feeling.

"Guys! What the fuck are you doing outside? It's fucking pouring!" A friend shouts from the doorway. "Get inside!"

You both stood there staring at each other, momentarily forgetting the rain pouring down around you.

“Yeah. What the fuck are we doing?" you say, not even trying to mask the anger in your voice.

He wants to reach out and kiss you. Kiss you so hard that his lips would bruise. Kiss you so hard that your pain will fade away. But that action would go against everything he had just said.

So he just watches you turn around and leave.

What the fuck is he doing?

3 months later

After weeks of shooting in the United Kingdom and the Amalfi Coast, you and the crew finally had a couple of days off. Aaron, John, and Rob had the brilliant idea to take a quick trip to Monaco.

“It’s a Grand Prix weekend,” Aaron said excitedly. “Maybe if we make a few calls, we could still snag some passes.”

“Doesn’t that start this week?” Rob inquired, taking a sip of his drink. Ever since your arrival in Italy, the four of you finally got the chance to eat dinner together at a nice restaurant.

“Yeah, yeah,” Aaron waved his hands in the air, “but if we leave tomorrow, there’s plenty of time to get there and enjoy ourselves.”

You were so focused on your meal that you missed the sound of your name coming from Aaron’s mouth. “Hellooo?” he continued, and you looked up at him, eyebrows raised. “Aren’t you friends with Lewis Hamilton?”

“Yeah. Well, I mean, we see each other sometimes at events and stuff. He’s really nice,” you tell him, still feeling a bit distracted.

“Could you maybe give him a call and get us those passes?” he asks, pouting like a puppy. John laughs at him, hitting him lightly on the arm.

“Sure, I can try,” you reply, feeling a bit hesitant. You rarely ask for special favors and don't want to come across as entitled, even more so when you haven't spoken to Lewis in so long.

“Yes!” Aaron celebrates by raising his fists. "Um, one more thing,"

“Mate, you’re pushing it now,” Rob remarks with a playful tone. You can tell he's enjoying the banter between you and Aaron.

“Go on,” you gesture at him to continue, a smile on your face.

“Could we also use your PP?”

“Use her what now?” John exclaims. Laughter erupts from Rob's mouth, making you and John join in.

“Her private plane, mate!” Aaron says, embarrassed.

“Yes, Aaron,” you get out, still laughing. “I’ll let you use my PP.”

"Thank you!"

•••

The flight to Monaco was smooth and quick. You spent most of it trying to focus on a script for a project after this one while the boys all slept. After your dinner last night, you made two calls: one to Lewis to ask about the passes and one to your publicist to let her know about your last-minute adventure.

Lewis was very nice as usual and said that, of course, he can get you the passes, while your agent said attending an F1 weekend would be good publicity and good fun. A win-win situation, she called it. She also said that since you were going to attend the race, you might as well attend all the events that come with it, which meant she had to fly in to assist you.

By the time the plane finally landed and you made it to the hotel, you were worn out. You spent the rest of the afternoon and night sleeping, without a care in the world. The next day, soft knocks on the door woke you up.

"It's me," Taylor's voice called out.

You groggily got out of bed and opened the door to find her standing there with her laptop, a cup of coffee, and a huge smile on her face. "Good morning, sleeping beauty."

Although you hadn't passed a mirror on your way to answer the door, you had the feeling that you didn't look visually appealing at the moment. Your body ached, like you wrestled with a wild animal all night and lost.

"Did you just get here?" you ask her, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. She smiles and shakes her head. "I got here late last night, but you weren't answering the phone, so I called Renata instead, and she said you were sleeping. And like the great person I am, I let you rest." Renata is your PA/publicist, a great friend, and one of the two constants in your life, along with Taylor.

"Wow, so kind of you," you say sarcastically, but can't help the small smile that tugs at the corners of your mouth. "Come in."

As Taylor enters, you shut the door behind her. She scans the space in fascination. There are floor-to-ceiling windows on the wall that run the length of the room and the wall to your left, which is behind the dining room table. A broad view of the harbor can be seen between the sheer, white, fluttering lengths of the floating curtains.

"Gorgeous suite," she says, sitting on the plush sofa across the room.

"Ren always chooses the best rooms, so yes," you tell her, sinking once again into your warm bed.

"You're still tired? You've slept for like 16 hours already," she chuckles, pouring herself a glass of water from the crystal pitcher on the side table. "I know, but I guess the jetlag is hitting me harder than I thought," you reply with a yawn, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath of the fragrant flowers on the nightstand.

"You didn't come to Monaco to sleep, did you?" Taylor chuckles, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"Yes?"

"No! We have a full itinerary planned for today, starting with breakfast at Café de Paris across the street with the boys. And then we're off to the Hotel de Paris for a F1 brunch event. There will be lots of food, drinks, and hot guys. Specifically, hot F1 drivers," you groan-laugh inwardly at the thought of dragging yourself out of bed so early for the sake of hot guys. "You know that's the last thing on my mind, right?"

"Well, not on mine!" she replies with a wink. "But seriously, it's not just about the eye candy. The event is also for a good cause, raising funds for a local charity. And it's also a great place to network and meet new people—you know the drill." You nod in agreement, feeling more motivated to attend, knowing that it's for a meaningful purpose.

With a determined sigh, you sit up and swing your legs over the edge of the bed. "Okay, I'll shower."

"Let me call Renata and tell her to prep the car and get the glam team in here."

"Thank you," you tell her, disappearing into the bathroom.

•••

Two hours later, you find yourself entering the venue of a charity event with your very impatient and rather enthusiastic co-star and best friend, Aaron. The venue is buzzing with excitement as you take in the elegant decorations and the well-dressed attendees. Since it's Monaco in May, you're sporting a light blue strapless top and white linen pants that complement the warm weather and the sophisticated atmosphere of the event.

"I can't believe Rob and John sat this one out because they were 'too tired', Aaron remarks, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Well, they don't have the energy of a 5-year-old, unlike you," you tease, playfully nudging him. "But hey, more champagne for us," you add with a mischievous grin as you grab two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter. "Cheers."

The bubbles tickle your nose as you take a sip, savoring the crisp and refreshing taste.

Camera flashes illuminate the room as people mingle and engage in lively conversations. You're stopped every 5 minutes by someone wanting to take a picture with you. You oblige every time with a smile, posing for each photo and exchanging pleasantries. After all, that's why you're here for.

Everything was going smoothly until someone bumped into you, causing you to spill champagne all over your clothes. The cold liquid seeps mostly through the fabric of your top, leaving a sticky sensation against your skin.

"Oh, my bad," you hear a thick Australian accent apologize. You turn to see a rather tall, tan-skinned, handsome man with a sheepish grin on his face. Did you say how handsome he was? And what the fuck was he smiling for?

Once he realizes who you are, his eyes widen in surprise and anguish. People start noticing the commotion and turn their attention towards the two of you. The man quickly grabs your arm and pulls you away from the crowd, his grip firm but gentle.

"Hey! Where are you taking me!" you protest, trying to free your arm from his grasp. His grip tightens slightly, but he maintains a calm demeanor as he leads you towards a quieter corner. As you reach a bathroom, he finally releases his hold on you and takes a step back, his expression filled with concern.

"Relax, I'm not kidnapping you."

The chaos around you fades into the background as he shuts the door and starts grabbing paper towels. "Shit, here," he says, handing you one. "Sorry for ruining your clothes."

You start wiping the spilled drink off your clothes, a little annoyed at the inconvenience. You can feel his gaze burning into you without looking.

"Do ya want me to give you mine?" he offers, gesturing towards his own shirt. "It might be a bit big on you, but at least it's dry." he pauses, waiting for your response.

You stare at him. "And what? you're going to walk around shirtless?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. He chuckles. "Yeah, I have a banging body, so I'll just be doing everybody here a favor here, really," he replies with a smirk.

You roll your eyes at his cocky remark. "I think I'll manage without your shirt, thanks," you say sarcastically. "But I appreciate the offer."

He laughs as he observes you. "Okay, then let me find another way to make it up to you."

"There's no need."

"Do you have plans tonight?"

"I'm fine."

"Does 7 p.m. sound good to you?"

"Listen—"

"Where are you staying?"

"I don't even know you."

"It's Daniel."

"Okay, Daniel. I don't know you, so no."

"But you could," he says with a playful glint in his eyes. "And who knows, it could be the start of something new."

"Are you quoting High School Musical to me?"

"Hey, it's a classic. And it was right there."

You chuckle, unable to resist his charm. Something lights up in his eyes.

"Listen, I won't push you anymore. It's up to you. Can't blame me for trying, though." you raise an eyebrow, considering his words.

"I'm going to go now," you tell him, pointing at the door.

He nods understandingly. "See ya later."

•••

After about 30 more minutes of indulging everyone in conversation and enjoying the party, Lewis Hamilton finds you. "Hi sweetie, there you are," he greets you, ever so polite. "I heard chatter that you were here. I thought I wouldn't see you until tomorrow's practice sessions."

"Oh yeah, but you know duty calls," you say with a smile as you lean in to hug him. "It's so nice to see you. Thanks again for the passes."

"Oh, it's nothing. You would've gotten them without me, but I'm glad you called me instead. How have you been enjoying Monaco so far?"

"Good, good—" you begin, but before you can finish your sentence, a burst of laughter you recognize from earlier erupts from across the room. "Actually, do you happen to know him?" you ask Lewis, gesturing with your head towards the source of laughter. Daniel is joyfully engaged in conversation with a group of people. Lewis follows your gaze and chuckles, "Ah, that's Daniel Ricciardo. He's a fellow Formula 1 driver and quite the character, to be honest. He's a cool dude."

"Huh," is all you manage to say as you watch Daniel animatedly tell a story, his infectious laughter filling the room.

"What are we looking at?" Renata and Aaron find you and join the conversation; their curiosity is piqued.

"Nothing," you quickly respond. Renata immediately caught on to your evasive response and followed your gaze. "Oh, Daniel?" she exclaims, voice hushed and her eyes glinting with excitement.

"Wait, you know who he is?"

"I did my homework on the plane. He drives for Renault, and he looks great doing it."

Lewis and Aaron chuckle at Renata's enthusiasm, sharing in her excitement. "I think Renata will be watching a few races from now on," Lewis remarks, causing everyone to laugh. Renata shrugs, a proud smile on her face. "Trust me, I will, but not for him. Have you heard of Charles Leclerc?"

You're still staring at Daniel, dumbfounded. Wheels are turning in your mind.

Aaron's voice interrupts your thoughts. "So...why are we still staring at him?"

"I'm going on a date with him tonight."

Your own declaration surprises you.

"Wait, you are?" both of your friends say in unison, their eyes widening with curiosity.

"Yes," you say, setting down your drink. "You guys ready to go now?"

They nodded, not wanting to press further but clearly intrigued by this, and you said your goodbyes to Lewis, promising to see him on Friday at the track. As you made your way to the exit, you grabbed Daniel by the arm and pulled him aside.

"Hotel Hermitage, 7 p.m., Room 303. Don't be late," you whispered, voice calm and steady. Daniel's mouth curled into a smile, but he maintained his composure and nodded, a feeling of excitement in his gaze. With a final pat on his shoulder, you rejoined your friends and headed out of the venue, eager for the evening ahead.

•••

You don't know what the hell you were thinking when you said yes. You could feel your anxiety building as the time approached—face flushed, stomach twisting in knots. James and Liz, your hair and makeup team, paused, laying out brushes and curling wands. "Everything okay, love?" James asked. "You want us out?"

"No, keep going. You're almost done, anyway. I'm just internally freaking out a little."

"You're great and look beautiful," Liz replied. "There's nothing to worry about."

You give her a tight smile and try to believe her words, but the nagging doubts continue to linger in the back of your mind. As the final touches are applied, you take a deep breath and say your goodbyes to them.

"Good luck and have fun!" James says as Liz winks at you and closes the door. You chuckle at their enthusiasm. You walk back into the bedroom and pick up the black cocktail dress hanging on the closet door. The soft fabric feels comforting against your fingertips as you slip it on. The dress hugs your curves perfectly, accentuating your best features. You grab your clutch and check yourself in the mirror one last time.

A knock on the door startles you. "Coming!"

Breathe, you remind yourself.

"Wow," Daniel says with a warm smile. "You look absolutely stunning. Are you ready to go?"

You're sure your face must look like a tomato as you thank Daniel for the compliment.

"Yes, let's."

As you reach the entrance of the hotel, Daniel hands the valet a ticket, and he opens the door of his car for you. "My lady," he says with a playful bow. You can't help but feel a rush of excitement as you step into the very flashy luxury car. For an F1 driver, you didn't expect anything less. The soft leather seats hug your body as you settle in, and the sleek interior design adds to the overall opulence of the vehicle. Daniel starts the engine, and the car glides smoothly onto the road.

"Where are you taking me?"

He looks at you with a mischevious grin plastered on his face. "My friend Max is throwing a yatch party tonight, and I thought it would be the perfect way to spend the night," he says, revving the engine slightly. "But I intend to dine and wine you before we head there."

"Oh," you reply nonchalantly, "Nice."

"Still playing hard to get?"

You shrug and give him a grin.

"That's alright. I enjoy a good challenge," he replies, his eyes sparkling. "But I have a feeling that by the end of the week, you won't be able to resist my charm." He winks at you.

"You're quite confident, aren't you?" you say, raising an eyebrow. "But don't underestimate my ability to resist." You smirk back at him, ready to prove him wrong.

The car pulls up to the entrance of the restaurant, and you both step out onto the bustling street. You make your way inside. "Oh, I've been here before," you say lowly, feeling a little satisfied that it is something you've experienced already, so it's harder for him to impress you.

You couldn't have been more wrong, though.

The hostess greets you with a warm smile and leads you to the main dining area. As you follow her, you can't help but notice it's....empty. Not a single table is occupied. The dimly lit room feels intimate and cozy, with soft music playing in the background and red roses adorning each table.

The hostess gestures towards a table in the middle of the room. "The waiter will be with you shortly," she says before leaving you alone.

You turn around, facing Daniel. "Did you rent out the entire restaurant for us?" you ask, slightly surprised. Daniel chuckles and shakes his head. "No, I just made a reservation for a quiet evening," he replies.

"You're an awful liar."

"I just saw how hectic everything was for you this morning, with all the pictures and people clamoring for your attention. I wanted to give you a break from that and create a peaceful vibe for us to enjoy tonight," Daniel explains, his eyes filled with sincerity.

You smile. "That's very thoughtful. Thank you."

"I have my moments."

The night continues with the two of you enjoying the delicious food and engaging in fun and light conversation. The peaceful atmosphere allows you both to relax and truly connect with each other.

Just what you needed but didn't realize until now.

"You're literally always smiling," you tell him. In the very short time you've known Daniel, there's something constant about him: his distinctive smile. Daniel chuckles and replies, "It's amazing what surgery can do. Formula 1 pays really well, and I was able to put a lot of that money into permanent smile surgery."

You burst out laughing. "Well, they did a great job," you say, still chuckling.

•••

You glided arm in arm onto the yatch, dry martinis in hand and a revolving stream of waitstaff to refill your drinks as soon as they emptied. You feel more relaxed and comfortable now. Maybe it was the three glasses of wine you had at dinner and the drink that's currently in your hand, or maybe it was the contagious laughter and carefree attitude of your date.

Cote d'Azur was a smooth wash of precious stones at this time of year. The ocean's deep, smoky blue stretched out like a shiny carpet. Loud music blasted from the speakers, and the upper deck was transformed into a vibrant dance floor with people spinning and swaying to the beat.

You wished you could rest your head on Daniel's shoulder without looking like you were already drunk.

He excitedly introduced you to his friends, who instantly made you feel like part of their tight-knit circle. As the night progressed, you found yourself effortlessly blending in.

"So how did this insufferable clown manage to take you out on a date?" Max asked, his voice loud over the booming music.

You shared a brief glance with Daniel. "He spilled champagne all over me."

"And then she couldn't help but fall for my charming personality and good looks," Daniel interjected with a playful grin.

"Yes, that's exactly what happened."

Daniel puts a hand on your lower back, and you mindlessly lean into his touch. "You wanna go outside for a bit?"

The need for some fresh air and a break from the crowded room causes you to hum in agreement. You leaned over and observed the white waves as they cut through the water as you came across a section of railing near the stern of the yatch.

The sound of the waves crashing against the yacht provided a soothing soundtrack to your conversation. As you leaned against the railing, Daniel's playful banter continued.

"Are you having fun?"

"Very much so," you replied, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"So I'm winning sooner than I thought I would."

"Winning what exactly, Daniel?" you asked, raising an eyebrow playfully. "The game of enjoying this beautiful yacht ride? Then yes, I suppose you are."

He laughed, but it wasn't his usual boisterous laugh. It was a softer, more genuine sound that made your heart flutter.

He came closer. "Would you like me to whisper it in your ear?"

As he leaned in, you could feel the warmth of his presence enveloping you. His eyes were locked with yours.

"You're falling for me," he whispered, his voice husky. The words sent a shiver down your spine, confirming what you had been trying to deny for the past hour or so. Not because you didn't find him charming or attractive, but because you felt like you were betraying the person who broke your heart months ago.

How can someone break your heart if it wasn't theirs to begin with?

You push back those thoughts.

The playful banter that played out all night faded into the background as a new energy filled the air, sparking a connection between the two of you that was impossible to ignore.

You give in.

"You think?"

He nods, his eyes dark. Your hands were encircling his neck, one at the nape of his neck and the other against the side, where you could feel his heart pounding beneath the pads of your fingers. Your fingers scraped at bristled hairs as you held onto his curls, and you enjoyed the feel of them rubbing against the pads of your fingers. You were tightly gripping him in your hands, not allowing even a millimeter to pass.

Daniel couldn’t decide where to touch you. You huffed a breath against his mouth as the lightest of touches - the barest featherweight of fingertips, like your skin was made of silk, traced along the curve of your jawline. The sensation sent shivers down your spine, making you crave more of his touch. His fingers continued their exploration, trailing down the nape of your neck, leaving a trail of tingling sensations in their wake.

He had pressed you against the railing at your back with no warning, and you felt the firm pressure of it. And now you arose from it, attempting to cling to every bone-hard surface of Daniel's body. His lips found yours in a passionate kiss, igniting a fire within you that consumed all rational thought.

"People are watching," you whispered breathlessly, breaking the kiss reluctantly. Daniel's eyes met yours, filled with a mix of desire and mischief. He smirked, his hand sliding down your waist possessively.

"Let them."

You were so fucked.

•••

You’d barely been able to breathe these past couple of days with events and rendezvous with Daniel consuming your every waking moments. It was fast paced and you found yourself completely swept up in the whirlwind of emotions. He was showing you his world and you were willingly diving headfirst into it.

It was Saturday morning, which meant is qualifying day and despite all of the media commitments and preparation that Daniel had to do, he’d promised breakfast as a way to make up for it. So here you were at a cafe only a short walk from the circuit, chewing your way through a delicious stack of pancakes while Daniel sipped on his coffee.

It felt oddly comforting to be sitting there with him. He was a stranger to you just a few days ago, but now he feels like a familiar presence. The conversations flowed effortlessly between you; he was funny, attentive, and attentive, but most importantly, he wasn't afraid of showing you off and telling you how much he liked you.

From the moment you crossed paths, he showed interest in you and made an effort. You haven't questioned whether he genuinely liked you or not. It was nice to be with someone who didn't play games or hide their feelings.

Your mind has also found a new way to torture you: whenever you felt happy with Daniel, a nagging voice in the back of your head would remind you of him.

Him. Him. Him.

You couldn't even say or think of his name. It was too much.

And yes, you were content, but you couldn't help but think about it.

The first time you tasted Daniel's lips, you were let down it wasn't the same. That feeling of disappointment lingered, but as days passed, it dissipated more and more. Maybe one day it'll be gone completely, you thought.

"So let me get this straight," you say, putting your fork and knife down on the plate. "You were on your way to winning in 2016, but a pit stop error cost you the race?"

Daniel nods. "It haunted me for so long. I couldn't shake off the frustration."

You grab your coffee and lean back on the chair, listening intently. "It was very dark. I should've been happy because I was on the podium in Monaco, and that's huge, but I was miserable. The whole time, all I wanted to do was smash everything to pieces and scream, which is something you do not want to do in front of Monaco royalty, by the way."

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued by Daniel's emotional upheaval. This was clearly a pivotal moment for him. "So, what finally helped you move past that?" you ask, curious to hear his response.

"Well," Daniel begins, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "I won last year."

"Yeah, that'll do it."

You both laugh, and he places a hand on your knee beneath the table. "But honestly," he continues, his voice softening. "It wasn't just about winning. It was about proving to myself that I could overcome my own limitations and achieve greatness."

"So...winning basically," you respond, teasingly.

"See, I wanted to be humble about it, but let's be real, winning felt pretty damn good," Daniel admits with a sheepish grin. "I love winning."

You snort in amusement, "Well, I guess a little bit of bragging rights never hurt anyone."

You two carry on with your meals. His left hand still on your knee, and the air filled with contentment.

•••

While Daniel returned from the qualifying weigh-in, you waited at the back of the garage. You had gradually gotten to know the Renault team over the previous two days. Everyone, from the mechanics to the media team, has been friendly and welcoming to you. You're still trying to decide whether it's because of Daniel, your status, or that they were just nice. Pretty sure it was all three.

You were aware that it would be best for you to stay out of the way as the team worked and the broadcasting teams were filming in and around the pit lane, but you were unable to hide in Daniel's prep room. At the back of the garage, you found a calm area where you could watch the busy activity without being a nuisance.

You were aware that, although you might have been in the VIP sections, you couldn't be that far away from him. You were able to feel more connected to Daniel and the team's spirit by spending time in the garage.

The phone had been ringing nonstop all day in the back pocket of your pants; the screen frequently flashed with new notifications from your social media accounts or texts or calls from friends and family. You were aware that the countless pictures of Daniel and you parading through Monaco were the root of the problem.

It was truly a sight to behold to be watching him race around the track and walk around the paddock.

He was in his element.

"You look cute, baby," he says, referring to the oversized headseat on your head. His face flushed from the heat, and yours from the compliment. His hair was messy and a little damp from sweat, evidence of the intense racing. He looked perfect.

Fuck.

He leaned in for a kiss, his lips brushing against yours, electricity rushing through you.

Fuck.

"I think you're winning," you say, your eyes fixed on him.

"Aw, that's sweet of you, baby, but I didn't qualify that great," he chuckles, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"That's not what I meant."

His face is puzzled for a moment before realization dawns on him. He smirks, his signature smile spreading across his face. "Oh," he says, his voice filled with warmth and affection.

"Yeah," you say, barely above a whisper, your eyes never leaving his.

"I told you so," he replies, his voice filled with confidence and pride.

"Shut up," you say playfully before kissing him again.

Fuck.

You were falling for him.

a/n: oh oh pedro...someone's stealing your girl. are you guys team pedro or team daniel?

Reblog or like if you enjoyed it! thank you for reading :)

#happy october 1st 🎃#pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal fluff

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madamsnape921 · 18 days ago

Text

Pitfalls of Love 2

<Part 1

Pairing: Nevada Ramirez x female reader

Note: angst, murder, smut; super toxic happy ending

WC: 1589

Winter Bingo square: Baking (lol)

Taglist: @storiesofsvu @beccabarba @alwaysachorusgirl @prurientpuddlejumper @welcometothemxdhouse @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @lv7867 @word-scribbless

@plaidbooks @navalcriminalimagines

“Get down on your knees and stay there, puta.”

She complied without hesitation, assuming a submissive stance on the ground.

"Good girl," Nevada said with a hint of indifference.

Nevada paced back and forth, unable to perform sexually. Every time he glanced at her, he was reminded of your face filled with disappointment as you caught him in the act. He realized that his love for you had grown immensely - you had never caught him cheating before, and now he couldn't even get aroused. He knew he had to find you and make things right.

“Stand up and return to Mr. Bones,” he ordered her.

“What? Why?” She questioned, getting to her feet.

"Because I told you to. Now, leave," he demanded.

"Is this because of that bitch of a girlfriend who interrupted us?" she snapped back.

"I said go! Now!"

She stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Nevada took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing thoughts. He needed to find YN and explain everything to her. He couldn't keep living like this, constantly tormented by his guilt and inability to perform.

He quickly dialed Marco's number. He had tasked Marco with watching over YN tonight.

"Boss, I'm so sorry!"

"We'll talk about it later. Where is she?"

"She's in the hotel a few blocks away from the club. Room 394."

"I'll be there in less than 5."

Before hanging up, Nevada headed out the door to make his way to the hotel.

He arrived at room 394 and knocked on the door. YN answered but immediately slammed it shut.

"Go away, Nevada!"

"YN! Please, open the door."

"No!"

"Sweetheart, please listen to me. Nothing happened."

"You've broken too many promises, Nevada. Did you even care about our New Year's kiss?" you shouted through the door.

"Please, let me explain, cariño."

You cautiously opened the door. "We can't keep yelling like this, someone might call the police. Let's make a ground rule: no physical contact. Understand?"

"Yes, I promise."

"Stop making empty promises. They mean nothing to you."

You crossed your arms, challenging him with your fiery gaze. He looked like a man who finally understood the depth of his actions.

"Okay, no physical contact," he said firmly, taking a step back as if to give you space. He spoke in a calmer voice that belied his turmoil.

"YN, I love you more than anything. I never meant to hurt you. But when I saw you tonight, all my lies and deceit came crashing down on me. I thought I could live like this forever, but I can't."

He paused, looking at you with vulnerability shining in his eyes. "I want to make things right with you. Can we start by talking openly about what happened and why?"

You hesitated, looking at him skeptically. "Alright, Nevada. But one thing's for sure: we need to talk about this, and we need to do it openly. No more secrets, no more lies."

Nevada nodded solemnly, taking a deep breath. "I agree. I promise to be honest with you from now on."

You gestured for him to sit down on the hotel room's small sofa. "Okay. Tell me everything."

As Nevada began to unfold the tangled web of his deceit, a both painful and cathartic process ensued between the two lovers. They explored the reasons behind his actions, his motivations, and the consequences that followed. Tears were shed, apologies were exchanged, and a commitment was made to rebuild their relationship based on trust and honesty.

Through it all, Nevada remained steadfast in his love for YN. He knew that what they shared was special - something worth fighting for. As the hours ticked by, they delved deeper into their past, peeling away layers of hurt and deception. His words tumbled forth with raw honesty, and her eyes reflected the pain he'd caused her. Yet she listened, truly listened, with an unwavering commitment to healing their relationship.

"I never meant to hurt you, YN," he whispered, his voice barely audible. He paused, swallowing hard as he met her gaze. "I am sorry for everything."

Your face was a picture of sorrow and disbelief. "I want to believe you, Nevada," she said softly. "But trust takes time to rebuild."

He responded in a soft tone, "I understand. I am willing to do whatever is necessary. Oh! I have a thought on how to demonstrate the depth of my commitment."

“How?”

"Please, come with me!"

"Fine, but it better be worth it."

Nevada motioned for you to follow him out of the hotel and into his car. He sat in the backseat with you as he instructed the driver, "Take us to Bones' place."

After twenty minutes of driving, you arrive at a building near the George Washington Bridge.

Nevada assists you out of the car and guides you towards the bridge.

"What is our purpose here, Vada?"

"I'll take care of her. The woman from earlier tonight. Let me handle her for you!"

"Take care of her as in... eliminate?"

“Just tell me what to do, baby girl. Hang on tight.” Nevada strode towards the building and knocked on the door. After a brief conversation with the man inside, a woman was pushed out of the doorway. Nevada didn't want to risk touching her, so he stood back and watched as she fell to her knees.

The woman stood up. “What the fuck?”

“Come with me, puta.”

She followed Nevada back to where you were standing on the bridge.

“What the fuck is she doing here?” she asked.

“Shut up,” Nevada demanded.

He turned to YN. "I want you to watch as I make this woman pay for what she's done to us. This is my way of showing you that I can protect you and that I will never let anyone hurt you again." He looked down at the ground, deep in thought. "Now, watch carefully and remember: it is always us against the world."

YN, though hesitant and filled with doubt, stood firm beside Nevada as he explained his intentions. She watched in shock and horror as Nevada brutally lifted the woman in a display of power and rage and tossed her over the bridge - an attempt to prove his unwavering love and commitment to her.

Nevada motioned for you to follow him as he walked back to the car. He left his men behind to retrieve the lifeless body from the frigid water.

You were mostly in a state of shock, but you couldn't deny the slight stirrings deep within you. You never thought you would approve of murder, yet after experiencing such intense emotions towards that woman tonight, there was an odd sense of relief when you saw her lifeless body.

“Vada, I…”

"Shh, darling. This is only the beginning of what I am capable of. Now let's head home and the boys can handle the aftermath for the rest of the evening."

Once one of the guys dropped you off at Nevada's place, you made your way inside.

“Vada, I… I need you.”

“I’m here, YN. I will always be here for you."

Nevada pulled you close, his warmth enveloping you in a embrace filled with a promise of protection and love. His touch felt different now - powerful, invigorating, and rock-solid. As if to say, "We are one and together we can take on the world."

Nevada led you by the hand to the bedroom and stripped off your dress and heels, leaving you completely exposed to him. He then quickly removed his clothes while watching you climb onto the bed.

You stared at Nevada as he climbed onto the bed and joined you. His eyes seemed to have a fire in them you had never seen before. He was no longer the man who lied and hid secrets from you.

He kissed you, tenderly at first, and then with a passion that was almost violent. It was as if all the pent-up emotions between you were finally being let loose, unleashing a torrent of desire and need.

You responded to his touch, your body arching towards him, your hands gripping his skin, desperate to feel his touch everywhere. Nevada explored every inch of your body, kissing and caressing you with an intensity that spoke of his commitment to make things right.

As you became one, your bodies moving together in a perfect harmony born of love and trust, you felt a sense of completeness you hadn't experienced in a long time. It was as if the distance between you had closed, and the chasm of hurt and betrayal had been bridged. This was more than just sex - it was a reaffirmation of your bond, an expression of the love that still burned fiercely between you both.

As you lay in his arms, gazing out at the stars shimmering above Nevada's apartment, you felt a profound sense of relief wash over you. The weight of your relationship's wounds began to lessen as you entrusted yourself to this man who was capable of such violence for your sake.

"Vada, I am scared," you admitted, nestling closer to him. "I'm scared of what we just did and what it means for us."

"It means that we're stronger together than apart," Nevada whispered into your ear, his voice steady.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The following morning, you woke up before Nevada did. Despite being involved in a murder the night before, you went to the kitchen and effortlessly whipped up a batch of blueberry muffins as if nothing had happened.

#kattsholidaybingo2024 #nevada ramirez x reader #trouble in the heights #nevada ramirez #raul esparza characters #fanfiction

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ot7always · 5 years ago

Text

My Fair Lady

Word Count: 8.1k

Pairing: Crown Prince!Taehyung x Captain of the Guard!Reader

Genre: Historical/Fantasy AU, fluff, smut, angst

Warnings: Sparring (swordfight/fistfight), I’ve literally never fenced in my life I’m sorry for any errors, pining, mentions of battle scars, angst angst angst, angsty sex, crying during sex (and not in a sexy way), unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, it’s super angsty but I promise it’ll be okay

Rating: 18+

Summary: His brother unable to spar with him that day, Crown Prince Taehyung comes to you in need of a partner.

A/N: This fic was such a wild ride of a writing experience, and I literally lost chunks of writing because of my laptop crashing multiple times. But this fic is my baby, please let me know what you think!

Huge thanks to @wwilloww for beta reading for me, and also @peekaboongi for crying with me as I wrote.

Tagging @moonmintrails @ppersonna @irissilujm @dee-ehn

Masterlist

You gaze swept across the palace training grounds, hands clasped firmly behind your back. You watched as your soldiers trained, whether it be alone or with each other, and kept an eye out for any glaring errors – incorrect form, weak footwork, and the like.

As the youngest Captain of the Guard in history, it was your duty to ensure each of your soldiers, men and women alike, were in prime condition. Though the position was not passed through bloodlines, you had taken over from your father following his retirement from duty. He was a very well-respected man, and you were determined not to disappoint him. You would continue to prove time and time again that you deserved the honour of your place.

You kept your eyes forward even as you sensed a tall presence settle beside you, taking on a similar stance to your own.

“My Lady,” a deep voice greeted. Your nose crinkled at the title. While it was true your family was of noble station, you much preferred to be addressed as “Captain.” You sought to distance yourself from your cousins who enjoyed hosting fancy balls and tittering about the latest messenger visiting from overseas.

You gave the man beside you a brief once-over, eyes quickly returning to your soldiers in the field. The Crown Prince was looking particularly fresh today, white cotton shirt laced neatly and tucked into black pants that moulded to him like water. His dark curls appeared freshly washed, small tendrils swaying in the wind, having escaped the small tie at the nape of his neck. He smelled suspiciously of lavender. Perhaps he had been delving into his sister’s perfumes once again.

“Your Highness,” you nodded curtly, ignoring the pang in your chest at his appearance. While you tried to put up a good front, you were not immune to the Prince’s charms.

“You know I don’t like when you call me that,” he smiled bashfully at his feet before turning the entirety of his attention to you. “I am in need of a favour,” he continued, gaze imploring.

“What can I do for you, Your Highness?” you responded, suppressing a smirk when you heard him sigh at your words. Having grown up around him, even sharing lessons and training together before you surpassed his abilities, you would consider the two of you friends – more, even. However, you had an image to keep up, barriers that needed to be kept in place lest anyone question your ability to prioritize the royal family’s safety without distraction.

“I require a sparring partner.”

“Do you forget yourself, Your Highness?” you grinned at the notion. Not many dared to challenge you to a fight, and the last time Taehyung matched you in skill he was perhaps a foot or two shorter.

“I beg of you, Captain. My brother is feeling out of sorts and I am in need of a distraction. I have been meeting with courtiers all morning and I cannot begin to express how tiring-”

“He’s taken ill?” you cut in, eyes wide and tone laced with concern as you finally turned to give the Prince your undivided attention. His younger brother was only 15, and you had developed a soft spot for the boy over the years. The plague which tended to come and go from your Kingdom was no joke. While many recovered, many more slowly but surely lost their lives.

“Don’t worry yourself too much, My Lady. Our doctors have assured us it is simply a minor ailment.” His heart warmed at your obvious affection for his brother, knowing how much you cherished his younger siblings. He wondered whether he himself held a similar place in your heart. “Let’s not concentrate on that which will resolve itself quickly in time. Rather, I am still in dire need of a partner. Please?” he appeased, giving you his best impression of a pout. You tried not to crack a smile at the resemblance to his sister.

Your hesitation did not last long – you found it difficult to deny Taehyung anything, not that he asked much of you very often. “Very well, then. Though, we are not exactly dressed for the occasion, are we?” you chuckled, meeting his eyes. It was true. Having only recently left a meeting with those who would accompany Their Majesties to town the next day, you were dressed in a white blouse, dark leather bodice laced on top. While your leather boots allowed for sufficient footwork, the suppressed movement of your torso was not exactly ideal for a fight.

“We both know that you are more than capable of fighting in such attire. Come,” he said, giving you no time to refuse before you were led to the central combat ring. The ring was often used to host friendly tournaments and was clearly visible from any spot in the field.

“Are you so keen to showcase your defeat to my entire squadron?” you teased, shooting the Prince a grin as you caught the foil he tossed to you. Light, thin, and dull, it ensured you did not cause any serious injury lest you accidentally hit him. Cotton, after all, was not the most ideal material to prevent bruising. As for you? Well, you didn’t plan on getting hit anyway.

You took up your position opposite him, bent slightly at the knee, sword in hand, opposing hand clenched comfortably behind your back. You watched as Taehyung settled into the same posture. You clicked your tongue in disapproval upon seeing his form. Shoulders tense already, you sighed. Well, you would just have to see if he fixed his error later on.

“Ready when you are, Sweet Prince,” you smirked, exhaling a laugh as his face flushed. It was a nickname given to him by the men and women he’d seduced and bedded over the years. Even if he’d invited them into his bed only once and never again, they never stopped singing his praises. A part of you was desperate to know what he did to impress them.

“I don’t have all day, Your Highness,” you called out, smile slowly lighting up your face at his embarrassment. A lie, of course. If he asked you to stand there and wait for hours while you simply stared at each other you would do it. You liked to tell yourself it was because of your royal duty, but in reality you had never been able to say no to him, even in your childhood. There was something so charming yet shy, so mature yet naïve about him, that had you wishing for his happiness at every moment. He was a walking contradiction you wanted nothing more than to solve.

Having collected himself, Taehyung launched himself at you quickly, sword flying its way toward your shoulder – easily parried. You figured the two of you would ease into a proper match. After all, neither of you were properly warmed up, and you refused to listen to the Prince’s complaining of sore muscles if you could avoid it.

You remained light on your feet, focusing solely on defending against his basic lunges rather than attempting to retaliate. That would come in time. It wouldn’t be so enjoyable if you didn’t toy with him just a little, right?

After several minutes of rather simple steps, you figured you were ready to break a sweat. The next time his blade swung at you, you batted it aside and thrust your own at his chest, tip poking into his shirt before he could even blink.

“Come now, Your Highness. Shall we see what my father taught you?” you taunted, backing away to your original position. Your heart warmed when you saw the fire light in his eyes at the challenge, his playful expression temporarily replaced by sheer focus. You couldn’t conclude which was more handsome.

The next time he flew at you, it was with newfound ardour, the clink of metal on metal a familiar symphony to your ears. The Prince was skilled, you would give him that. Not that you were surprised – you recalled a time in his youth when he dedicated himself fully to training in this exact spot.

You gave yourself fully to your reflexes, blade swinging left, right, and circling round as you blocked his attacks. Quickly side-stepping a stab toward your neck, you grinned. Despite your original hesitance, you were enjoying yourself. Seeing the sweat form on Taehyung’s brow from his effort, you were happy to see him dedicate himself to something so completely. His technique focused on agility over power, something well-suited to his long limbs and lean muscle. You were the same – fight smart, not hard, your father used to tell you.

Backing away suddenly, Taehyung pouted slightly as he caught his breath. “I can tell that you are going easy on me, Captain. At least try to hit me, I swear to you that I can handle it.” You chuckled at his words.

“Very well, Your Highness. Though if I may point out, perhaps it would serve you better if you relaxed your muscles more. How can you expect to hit me when your shoulder fails to follow through?” you chided. Taehyung bit his lip at your words.

“My apologies, Captain. I find it difficult when I am near you.” Your brows furrowed, unsure whether you heard correctly. He has trouble relaxing around you? You preferred not to pick apart such a statement.

In answer, you lunged at him, a tide of satisfaction flowing through you when he moved immediately in response. You allowed him to continue on the offensive, though this time you followed up every few parries with a riposte, ensuring you never actually hit him with your blade.

Steel was flying through the air so fast it was a blur, your focus lying solely on the flurry of blades between your bodies. You quickly lost track of time, though based on the slight burn in your calves the activity must have gone on for quite a while.

It became almost like a rhythm – feet dancing, you blocked thrice, circling around for a responding thrust. Little did you know, in your focus you missed Taehyung’s wistful glances as he took in your appearance – gaze sharp, hair around your face flying as it escaped your tight knot at the back.

While you did your best not to make contact, your efforts were not perfect. Because as the Prince stepped left rather than right as you had expected, your blade made full and hard contact with his abdomen, confirmed by the faint oof that accompanied the motion. Broken out of your trance, you stared wide-eyed. “My apologies-”

You let down your guard for only a moment, but it was enough for him to swipe your blade aside, his own resting right between your collarbones. Raising your eyes to meet his own, you found only a grin, no sign of pain. That little-

“KIM TAEHYUNG!!!” you bellowed, ignoring the nearby gasps at your blatant show of disrespect. The eldest soldiers only shook their heads in dismay, having become used to your antics over the years. You whipped the side of his blade with your own, force enough to send it flying out of his grasp. “I was worried about you!” you shouted, stalking your way over to his retreating body, met only by a full-bodied laugh and hands raised to defend himself.

He took hold of your shoulders, keeping you at arms’ length as you glared up at him. The look only sent him into another fit of laughter. “The look on your face was magnificent, Captain,” he snickered, ignoring the betrayal on your face. “I’m perfectly fine, also. You needn’t worry so much-”

“Oh, you will not be fine by the time I’m done with you, Your Highness,” you seethed, picking up his discarded blade only to chuck it at him with just a little more force than necessary. “If you wanted a fight, Kim Taehyung, you’ve found one. I will pray for your recovery.”

Taking up your position for the third time of the afternoon, you scanned his features opposite you. He had no blaring weak spots, though you would be surprised if he did after all his years of training. He was fast, though you would bet that you were faster. Defeating him at his full capabilities would not be extremely easy, but if you gave it perhaps 80% you supposed you could be done within minutes.

“Any last words?” you goaded, grinning at the fleck of worry that crossed his face. “You look afraid, Your Highness.”

“It is perhaps in my best interest to remain a bit afraid, My Lady,” he chuckled lightly, eyes keen as they awaited your first movement. The narrowed your eyes, taking him in, planning your actions. He’s not wrong, you thought. Everyone in this field was just a little bit afraid.

Taehyung jumped when your blade made contact with his own, a high-pitched screech ringing out as he fought you off. You gave him no time to contemplate his own actions before you lunged relentlessly at him, delivering strike after strike without pause. He was forced to remain on the defensive, putting in his full effort to parry and step away in time.

Despite his struggle, you were impressed he was able to keep up with you as well as he was. He’s been training more, you noted. His improvement was clear compared to the last time you fought only several months ago. However, in a game of stamina, you were sure to win.

The top of your bodice dug sharply into your chest as your breaths quickened, but you were no stranger to discomfort. Over time you had learned to put aside such trivial things. Aches and pains were part of your job, and you’d be damned if you didn’t do it well.

Unwilling to let go of your pride, your steps quickened, Taehyung’s blade moving frantically to keep up but inevitably slowing slightly as you did not give him time to breathe. If you hadn’t focused all of your energy into this alone with no distractions, you perhaps would have poked fun at him.

When his sword arm lagged only slightly behind, arms slightly too wide, slightly too open, you struck hard. Batting his blade to the side only centimetres above where he held it in his grasp, you simpered, watching his shocked face as his blade went flying. His eyes darted between you and the blade, metres away, seemingly contemplating whether to give up or to pounce on it.

“What now, Little Prince? If this were a battlefield, would you simply cower in fear?” you coerced, eyes predatory. Perhaps it was sadistic of you, but you relished in the look of dismay in Taehyung’s face. He’d been thoroughly defeated – it was only a matter of how long you would draw it out.

Tossing your own foil to the side, you stretched your limbs before beckoning him over, fists positioned in front of you. It was a petty move and you knew it, for soldiers were much more well-versed in hand-to-hand combat than the Crown Prince, who was known to favour his swords and bows.

Taehyung had no complaints, however. A fight was a fight, after all. As he came after you with one, two, three jabs to your chest, you danced aside as you evaded easily. The difference in speed between his punches and sword thrusts were clear, the former much less practiced than the latter.

You unfortunately had not thought this idea through, because your options for victory without injuring the Prince were limited. While you were aware Taehyung would not mind, it would not be the best image for you to beat the life out of the Kingdom’s Crown Prince in open view of a squadron sworn to protect him.

“Are you so eager for my company that you would draw this out?” he joked, a weak punch toward your face easily shoved out of the way by your forearm. “Or perhaps you find pleasure in cornering me, My Lady?”

“You think so highly of yourself, Your Highness. Is it so disconcerting to find yourself put in your place every so often?”

“Quite the opposite, I think. I’ve never enjoyed myself so much,” he beamed, eyes shining. “I’ve quite missed you, Captain.” You faltered at the admission. While you loved to give him a hard time, you knew he was well aware of your fondness for him. However, you don’t believe you’ve ever said something so forthright to each other, and the statement awakened something in you that you thought you had buried deep.

Noting your slightly frozen state, Taehyung charged at you. However, you would not be fooled twice. The audacity of this man-

Twisting your arm to grab hold of his, you leaped forward. Suddenly taking the force of your full weight, Taehyung had nowhere to go but down, groaning as his back thudded against the canvas floor. Knee digging itself into the Prince’s ribcage below you, you sighted your previously discarded blade nearby. Grabbing hold of it, you held it to his throat.

“Yield,” you whispered, words escaping you much softer than intended. He made no effort to move, only staring up into your face with unspeakable emotion.

“And what if I am happy where I am, My Lady?” he murmured, taking in your appearance. Chest heaving, escaped hair wet with sweat, blouse crinkled – you were perhaps the finest sight he’d ever had the pleasure to lay eyes on. Though his words might have been taken for humour, you saw the look on his face. He didn’t even attempt to mask the desire, shameless through and through.

Before you could even think to respond, smatterings of applause broke out across the field at your victorious display, though they could not even begin to understand what was happening between the two of you. Moment broken, you quickly hopped up, helping Taehyung to his feet but avoiding his gaze. You were afraid to admit how much your heart fluttered when you heard his words, afraid of how much it would hurt when you would be forced to walk away and never speak of this moment again.

It was for the best.

“Y/N,” he called out softly, hands reaching for your own, but maintaining a respectful distance. Your eyes flew up to meet his, unused to hearing your own name in the palace nowadays. The look he gave you was honest, sincere. “Do you feel this too?”

You paused. Though he didn’t quite say what this meant, you could guess. In fact, his knowing gaze told you he only wanted you to admit what he already knew. The man had always been perceptive, and you had more memories with him than with your own family. You were certain he was familiar with your every expression. After all, you could write novels about his face – the way his eyes shone in his passion, the way the corners of his lips twitched when he was repressing a scowl.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Pleading ignorance was the best defense. Admitting to your desires was foolish, and would not change your circumstances. You knew this was deeper than physical desires, but that just made it all the more impossible. Princes were destined for arranged marriage – nobody could simply form a relationship with a future King, least of all the soldier who has pledged her life to his parents. No, a proper relationship was not within the realm of possibility. But neither could you lay with the Crown Prince in good conscience – how would the public trust you to put the King and Queen’s safety above all else if you were warming their Prince’s bed?

Every option to act on your desires was fated for failure.

Taehyung’s hands moved from your palms to your wrists, his thumbs pressing into your pulse firmly. “Your heart is racing,” he murmured, eyes staring into your own as though he knew your every secret. “Why do you hide it?”

“You know why,” you stated, voice soft. “Of course I feel it, but it matters not.” The admission coming from your own lips shocked you. You had danced around each other for years, orbiting each other like binary stars, but you’d never admitted your attraction to him.

“It matters to me,” he whispered, thumb stroking at the soft skin of your wrists with care. “Come to my chambers after dinner.”

Your brows shot up at the suggestion. This was not a light request. You were no longer children, no longer laughed in his company until the maids shooed you away, chiding you for making so much noise.

This was real. As much as you grew to accept your desires, you had never even fathomed acting on them. Not when you knew it couldn’t last – not when your reputation, perhaps even your position, were at stake. “Your Highness, I couldn’t possibly-”

“Please,” he begged, staring into you with an expression you would liken to a puppy begging for scraps. You attempted to turn away, but he only followed. “Please,” he repeated, noting your conflicted expression. It was hard to deny him anything when he was looking at you like that, but even harder to deny yourself when every part of you wanted nothing more than to say yes.

“Very well,” you breathed, sealing your fate. “I shall come when the clock strikes eight, Your Highness.”

You couldn’t do it. As much as your heart craved him more than anything, you couldn’t. He was untouchable. If you were any other person, if you were just a court lady, you would jump at the chance. It wasn’t a secret that the Prince has had many partners, and nobody gave it a second thought. But to be with you?

It was improper. Impossible. How could you be trusted to do your duty fully and objectively if you’d laid with the Crown Prince?

After bathing, you made your way to his bedchambers, clad only in a loose blouse and cotton pants, hair flowing freely around your shoulders, still wet. You could not join him in his bed, but he at least deserved a rejection in person rather than your absence.

Knocking lightly on the door, you were startled when it swung open, your arm still raised. He gave you such a sweet smile it was almost painful, still dressed in his earlier attire but hair loose around his face. You stepped into the room, taking in its appearance, having not seen the room in years. It smelled of him, of vanilla and lavender and musk, a scent you would breathe for the rest of your life if it was possible. The room was exactly as you remembered it, mostly barren if not for the set of throwing knives on display – a gift from your father for the Prince’s coming-of-age.

“I’m so glad you came-”

“I’m sorry,” you cut him off, turning to face him. “I came to put a stop to this before it’s begun, Your Highness. You're trying to start something that will be too painful to cease.” Your words struck him, and it physically pained you to see his face transform from excitement to distress.

“But I am not imagining what we have, am I? I have longed for you for years. Am I wrong to think you have too?” he pleaded.

“It doesn’t matter what I want, Your Highness. We can’t possibly do this – think about it. Not only that, I cannot have the palace thinking I earned my position through your bed. There are so many reasons we cannot – I want you but I cannot have you!” You didn’t mean to raise your voice, but you couldn’t help it in your grief. Eyes brimming with unshed tears of frustration, it hurt to look at him standing so close, and yet so out of reach.

At your anguish, Taehyung reached for your face, thumbs wiping away the tears you didn’t even notice had fallen. His tenderness only sent another wave of sorrow through you, chest heavy. “I’m sorry. I know it was selfish to call you here. I know this is easier for me than you. Please forget I ever asked.”

“I know it’s wrong, but...”

“But?” he urged gently.

“Is it so foolish that I want it anyway?” you whispered. You looked at him wide-eyed, gaze pained, searching his face as if it held the answers to the universe. For you, perhaps it did.

“Y/N...” he begun, the sweet sound of your name coming from his lips the final nail in your coffin. Denying that you wanted this more than anything would be the greatest lie you’ve ever told. It was brash, and stupid, and irresponsible, but you wanted to feel this at least once. You wanted to indulge in his touch, his affection. You needed to feel his hands on you, his mouth on your skin, and you didn’t know if you would ever be brave enough to accept him again if you didn’t do it now.

“It can only be once. Nobody can know.” You couldn’t risk the noblewomen catching on to your activities. They were unusually observant, and you didn’t doubt their abilities to discern your relationship with even the faintest of hints. Taehyung knew better than anybody that the palace ladies treated gossip as currency, and word traveled especially quickly on matters involving him. He nodded at your words, but the grave look on his face told you he wished things were different.

“I will cherish our time together, My Lady” he breathed, but his conflicted expression spoke volumes. “We don’t have to do this-”

You shook your head, closing the space between you until your chests were pressed together. Stomach in knots and chest tight, you ran your fingers along his broad chest and down to his abdomen before wrapping them loosely around his waist. You would savour every touch, make note of every expression, save away every delightful noise from his lips, and you would pray for it to be enough to satiate you for a lifetime. Because it had to be.

Tilting your head back to meet his eyes, your heart nearly leapt from your throat at the look on his face. The adoration, the warmness – but most of all, the pain. This was torture for both of you, and you knew it. It was selfish and self-destructive, but the two of you always seemed to bring out both the best and the worst in each other.

Without speaking, you reached up to grab hold of his head, yanking it down to smash your lips together without ceremony. He responded with fervor, moving against you, arms tugging until there was not even a millimetre of space between your bodies. You tried not to think about the desperation in your movements, the saltiness of the tears still present on your face. You dragged your hands over the planes of his chest and down to his biceps, nails digging in slightly when he bit at your bottom lip.

Harshly tugging his shirt from his waistband, you traced your nails up his bare skin, relishing in the uneven breath he let out in response. You would dedicate yourself to memorizing every inch of him. Every dip, every curve would be ingrained in your mind for eternity, your hands tracing patterns into his skin like a brush on canvas.

He did the same to you, his large hands finding their way beneath your blouse and chemise, lifting them both above your head to toss them to the floor. You were bare underneath, having planned to leave for your own bedchambers only minutes after arriving. He sucked in a breath at the sight of you on display entirely for him. His careful fingers traced the scars on your abdomen, accumulated through years of training and fighting on the frontlines. While ugly, you were not ashamed – these were proofs to others and to yourself that you would put your Kingdom above all else.

Bending at the knee, he traced his mouth down your jaw, down your throat, kissing you reverently as he continued his path. Passing over your breasts, he moved lower to mouth gently at the scars littering your belly, his gentle presses causing new tears to spring to your eyes. Was this how it felt to be worshipped? To be loved?

Taehyung took in the sorrow painting your features, but did not comment. There was nothing to be said – he understood perfectly. Perhaps if he pressed his face more firmly into the softness of your skin, he would spare you having to see the twin look of despair he was unable to hide.

Sliding a hand into his hair, you softly brushed it away from his face, gently pulling his chin up to look at you. Your heart wrenched at the sight of him, eyes looking at you as though you were a treasure, as though you weren’t the thing causing him so much pain. As though you wouldn’t leave him alone after this.

Tugging lightly at the collar of his shirt, he quickly got the memo, shucking it off in a direction you didn’t see, too focused on what was just revealed to you. If not for the honeyed gold of his skin, you would have been convinced he was carved of marble. You traced the lines of his body, a tiny smile breaking through at the shudder he gave when your nails scratched over his nipples. Though your actions were slow, he did not rush you. He only watched the awe in your gaze, eyes wide as though if you blinked, he would disappear. The childlike wonder in your face warmed his heart, pleased that you would let your guard down here with him.

You blinked out of your stupor at the sensation of a warm hand on your cheek, the sight of Taehyung’s soft grin at your antics lighting a small fire of embarrassment in you. “Bed?” he asked lightly, nuzzling his face into your neck. The hot breaths near your ear sent a shiver down your spine, tugging him ever-so-closer as you nodded in response.

Pulling away from him, you tugged lightly at the drawstrings to your pants, biting your lip when you saw the Prince follow your every movement. Taking his hands into your own, you brought them to your waistband. “Help me,” you breathed, heart racing at the knowledge that you would soon be laid bare to him.

He took a deep breath before releasing the knot at your waist, tugging your pants ever so slowly down your legs. He knelt at your feet, removing the fabric from your ankles until the only cloth left on your body is your underwear. Eyes falling on your face, he thumbed the waistband, looking up at you in question. At your quiet “please,” he removed that too, your folds revealed to him, shiny with your arousal.

Groaning at the sight, Taehyung latched onto your clit before you could even process the movement, the sudden pleasure making you weak in the knees. He sucked at your bud lightly, taking pleasure in the way you sunk your hands into his hair to ground yourself. When you wobbled slightly in your bliss, his left arm rose to hold you steady at the waist.

When his other hand rose to thumb through your folds while his mouth continued its ministrations, you moaned out. Eyes falling down to observe the Prince, the sight brought a small whimper to your lips, your hips grinding down onto him. He looked absolutely sinful, his eyes heavy-lidded as he delved into your heat with such abandon, focused entirely on your pleasure. When he inserted a finger into you, quickly followed by another upon feeling your wetness, you were sure you would have fallen if not for his arm holding you steady.

“What-” you started, but ended up cutting yourself off with a loud moan at the sensation of his fingers scissoring inside you. “What happened to going to bed?” you managed to get out, utterly breathless.

You let out a gasp when he pulled from you abruptly in response, picking you up at the waist and throwing you onto his mattress. You had no time to reprimand him before he was spreading your legs, mouth and fingers returning to you as he joined you on the bed. Any words were stolen from your throat at the stretch of a third finger, your hips bucking up to get closer to the source of your pleasure.

“You taste so good,” he moaned out, panting. You didn’t miss the way he grinded his clothed crotch into the sheets, heat shooting through you at the sight. When his fingers curled inside you, the heat spread throughout your whole body, abdomen tight and walls clenching tightly around his fingers. You were so close to the edge, it would take only one breath before you fell over.

“Give it to me, please,” he pleaded, tongue flicking over your clit as his fingers continued to nudge that spongy spot inside you. Needing no more encouragement, you fell apart, moans forced from your throat, hips grinding against him as he worked you through your orgasm. When a dull ache begun to replace the pleasure, you pulled away from him, pushing him onto his back.

His arousal was clear, his cock straining in his tight pants enough that it must have hurt. Though, his face held no complaint, only dazed wonderment clear on his features, almost as if he still couldn’t believe what was happening. He let out a sharp hiss as your nails traced the outline of his cock, his teeth biting furiously at his bottom lip.

Deciding not to torture him after the ecstasy he brought you, you tugged his pants and underwear down in one go, Taehyung groaning in relief as his cock sprung free. The tip was angry and red, the slit leaking precum. After freeing him of his clothing, you reached out a hand to pump lightly at his cock, noting the way it twitched in your hold. It looked almost painful, the vein running up the underside big and angry.

You began to lower your mouth to him, eager to return the pleasure he gave you, but were halted by a gentle hand on your cheek. “Please,” he begged, “I can’t. I need you,” he expressed all in one breath, eyes pained and needy.

Taking mercy on him, you rose, shifting until you were seated in his lap, mouth seeking his out. He cried out into your mouth at the sensation of your slick folds rocking against him, grinding down onto his cock. Hand reaching down to position him at your entrance, you pulled your face away to watch his as you sunk yourself slowly onto his length. The moan you let out at the stretch was crude, and it didn’t appear that Taehyung was faring any better, his breaths coming in pants, eyes screwed shut.

He’s beautiful like this, you thought, your own eyes wanting to badly to flutter closed, but your need to take in his every expression won out. Your head tipped back in pleasure as you seated yourself fully, moans escaping as you rocked against him, his pelvis pressing into your clit.

Losing yourself in the sensation, you fell forward to bury your face into Taehyung’s neck, his scent only adding to your pleasure. His hips rocked against your own, thrusts shallow, both of you letting out low moans at the movement. The friction against your clit had your abdomen tightening again, his tender hold on your body the best thing you’d ever felt. But as the pleasure reared in on you again, it was at that moment you remembered the totality of your situation.

You would never get this again.

The thought was like ice-water thrown over your head. How could you have forgotten? His cock deep inside you, his hips rising to meet your own, his hand clutching at the small of your back, his moans – it was all temporary.

You shoved your face tightly into his shoulder, hoping your sob would disguise itself as a moan. But at the shaking of your shoulders, Taehyung paused his actions, hand rising to cradle your head. “Y/N?”

“Tae,” you cried out, heart wrenching. It wasn’t lost on him that this was the first time he’s properly heard his name from your lips since your promotion – no teasing, no games. His heart broke at the sound, your sobs guttural, and he wanted nothing more than to take the pain away. The gravity of the situation brought tears to his own eyes, unable to suppress the emotion any longer.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he whispered, your head lifting to meet his glassy eyes. Your eyes were red-rimmed, your lips quivering. This was an agony that only the two of you could ever understand.

“Taehyung, I-” you faltered, choking on a sob. I love you. You couldn’t say it. What good could it bring you now? But your eyes spoke volumes, the emotion clear on your face. He knew how you felt just as much as you knew how he felt.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he repeated, tears finally escaping his eyes as he tugged you closer. There was no way to be more intimate than this, arms cradling each other as you cried, his cock still nestled inside you.

It would have to be enough.

As your bodies shifted minutes later, the friction against you had you shivering, remembering the position you were in. You pulled your head from his neck to gaze at his face, his eyes meeting your own. It hurt, but there was sad acceptance in your eyes, mirrored in his own. You tried to force a small smile onto your face, but you were unsure whether it appeared as a grimace. You instead elected to press a soft kiss to his lips, eyes falling closed as he returned it.

You rocked your hips together slowly, relishing in the light sighs and quiet moans of the other. Your movements were tender, careful, full of love and affection you would never get the chance to verbalize. When you felt your release creeping up on you again, you arched your back, grinding into his pelvis. Wanting to help you along, Taehyung grabbed hold of your hips, holding you steady as he thrusted up into you, every so often holding himself deep, grinding against you. The emotion of it all had your breath caught in your throat, your orgasm washing over you in gentle waves as you writhed against his body.

You could tell he was coming undone, his thrusts erratic, breaths heavy as he pulled away from you to leave open-mouthed kisses on your collarbone. You moaned at the overwhelming sensation of his movements so soon after your orgasm, but you wouldn’t dare rob him of his pleasure. Not now, not like this.

Groaning loudly, you felt his cock twitch inside you as he continued his thrusts, feeling the warmth of his release coating your walls. He shook in your arms, and you couldn’t bring yourself to confirm whether he was overwhelmed with pleasure or sorrow.

Letting out a whine as you pulled yourself off him, you wiped the mess between your legs on his sheets. His maids would clean for him come sunrise, and you were anxious to escape the room before you lost yourself fully to despair.

You allowed yourself to bask in his presence momentarily, laying alongside him for several minutes before you rose to get dressed. You kept your back to him, unwilling to show weakness despite your vulnerability only moments ago.

“Stay,” he begged, his voice still husky from the passion you’d shared. Your heart sunk at the suggestion. You wanted nothing more than to stay, but every minute you spent here knowing the outcome only shattered you a bit more.

Fully dressed, you made your way to the door. You could still feel where his hands touched you, where his lips pressed against you, where his cock had been inside you. “I’m sorry,” you breathed, misery colouring your tone. You turned to him, taking in his bare appearance for the last time. You stared, hoping to burn the image into your retinas.

“I know,” was his only response. What more was there to say? Your eyes swept over each other, locking this moment away in your hearts forever. Finally, you turned back to the door, turning the knob and stepping out into the hallway without looking back. The sound of the hinge falling into place behind you felt like waking up from a dream, the period at the end of a sentence.

Your tears fell freely and silently as you made your way back to your chambers. Your heart ached a bit more with the increasing distance, every step leaving a piece of you behind.

It’s better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all? You supposed whoever could claim such a thing had never loved like this. Because walking away left your heart in a million pieces, the only glue that could piece you back together still staring at his empty sheets, the dip from where your body once laid still warm to the touch.

Months went by without speaking of that night. The tonic you’d taken upon returning to your room had worked well, your body having bled weeks later. You had still talked to Taehyung – you had to; your duty required it. But the pain never ceased, only dulled. You told yourself you would move on, that there was no use in dwelling. But the heated glances you caught him directing at you, desire and heartbreak in his eyes, always took you right back to that night.

He hadn’t been with anyone since – not that you were listening. You couldn’t help but to overhear the palace ladies gossiping, spreading word of the Crown Prince denying their advances. You didn’t know what to do with the information.

Having just returned from mapping out Their Majesties route to a neighbouring city, you returned your horse to the stables. While not necessary, you much preferred to prepare yourself for every possibility of attack, taking note of any weaknesses in visibility along the path. Every second counts when you’re under attack, after all.

“Captain!” a voice called out to you urgently. Having just handed off your horse to the stablehand, you turned to meet the man, his hands on his knees as if he had just run a mile before coming here. “I have been looking for you everywhere, Captain. Their Majesties have requested your presence in the throne room.” Unusual, since you had met together only this morning, but you would not keep them waiting.

“Thank you, sir. I will head there now.”

You went directly to the throne room, pausing outside to nod to the royal family’s assistant stationed outside. He smiled to you briefly before pushing the door open.

“Captain Y/N to see you, Your Majesties.”

“Let her in, thank you,” a kind, feminine voice rang out.

You stepped inside quickly, taking a knee until the King gestured for you to stand. “I deeply apologize for my appearance, Your Majesties. I had just returned from planning our route for tomorrow and thought it better not to leave you waiting.”

The King smiled at you, the warm-hearted expression reminding you of Taehyung’s. Your chest ached at the thought, but you kept a blank expression. “Hard at work as always, I see. We had something we would like to discuss with you.” At his words, you noticed that not only were the King and Queen present, but Taehyung was stood off to the side as well. Your heartrate increased slightly at the sight of him.

“Your Highness. Forgive my disrespect, I had not seen you there,” you bowed respectfully, ignoring the heat that rushed through you at his appearance. His hair was loose, his outfit form-fitting. He was beautiful. You tried not to think too much on what he looked like beneath the clothes. “What can I do for you, Your Majesties?”

“Captain, my son came to us earlier today with quite the startling proposition,” he began, and your brows furrowed in confusion. When he failed to elaborate, you spoke up.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand what you mean, Your Majesty.”

“You see, he came to us in a frenzy and asked, ‘Father, what would you say if I wanted to marry the Captain of the Guard?’” You froze, eyes wide. Marry? You? Taehyung? Your heart pounded violently at the notion.

“Sire, I promise you this was not my idea. I apologize-”

“My dear, do not panic. We are not angry. But we wanted to ask your thoughts.”

“Your Majesties, I couldn’t possibly marry your son.” You made effort not to look at the Prince, lest your composure fail. “I have no lands to offer. No gold, nothing. I cannot offer you any alliance, I cannot bring anything to your family,” you turned to Taehyung, his expression unreadable. “You cannot marry a soldier,” you whispered, heart breaking once again as the possibility was dangled in front of you, lingering just beyond reach.

“Captain, do you know that the people adore you? That they sing your praises when we pass through their villages?” the Queen asked, a bright smile painting her features. Your face grew hot at the mention. “Your soldiers respect you. Your hometown throws festivals in honour of your birthday. Dare I say that you’re more popular than us?” she joked, giggle chiming lightly through the room. Taking in her appearance and mannerisms, it was no question why Taehyung was as handsome and as loved as he was.

“Ma’am, of course not,” you responded, hand raising to awkwardly scratch at your head. You were unsure where she was going with the statement.

“You’ve earned the Kingdom’s trust, Captain. You’re perhaps the most loyal person I’ve ever laid eyes on. Might I also add that you are not just some nobody? Your family has served ours for generations. You are of noble birth,” she stated matter-of-factly. “Do you consider yourself so unworthy?”

You paused at the question. It did not seem to be a trap, and the Queen was certainly not one to be malicious. Glancing around the room, you noted the King and Prince were observing your reaction expectantly. It was not an environment good for your nerves. “A soldier is not fit to be the future Queen,” is the statement you settled for, attempting to maintain a mask of indifference.

“My dear, do you remember what you told me only a few years ago? When I asked you if you were afraid of trying to accomplish what nobody else in history has?” the King’s deep voice rang out. Your gaze snapped up, knowing exactly what he was about to say. Oh no...

“‘Damn history. I will write my own history,’ I think it was.” Chuckles broke out across the room, the Queen tittering, Taehyung snickering. You’d never told Taehyung about that encounter, embarrassment flowing through you every time you thought about it. You focused your gaze on your feet, face burning at the reminder of your words.

“I have since learned to control my words, Sire,” you muttered ashamedly, fingers tangling together.

“Y/N,” the King’s voice called, grabbing your attention once again. “You have guts. Daring. You’re smart, well-trained. And there’s nobody I would trust to guard my life more than you.” You bit your lip at the praise, struggling to hide a proud grin. Being praised by the King was a feat not many experienced. “It would be an honour to call you our daughter.”

You stared, slack-jawed, processing his words. You didn’t notice Taehyung approaching you until his fingers laced with your own, his opposing hand moving to raise your chin. The open affection on his face, the love - it was everything you’d ever dreamed of and nothing you’d ever dared hope for. Your breathing quickened as he sank to his knees in front of you.

“Please,” he beseeched, vulnerability clear on his face. “Spend eternity with me, together. Will you marry me?”

Tears filled your eyes, but for once they were tears of joy, not tears of despair. You dropped to your knees to meet him, arms thrown around his neck. He barely had time to catch you as you threw yourself at him, bodies the closest they’ve been since that night in his bed. Raising your head to lock your eyes on his, you knew the same love you had for him was written all over your face.

“Yes,” you cried, hands raising to cup his jaw. “Yes.”

#vantaenet #heartsforbts #taehyung x reader #taehyung fluff #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #bts fic #bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #bts fanfic #bts fantasy au #bts historical au

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delaber · 4 years ago

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Rafael Casal x Reader

Pairing: Rafael Casal x Reader

Note: Thanks for the prompts! This was fun! Smut prompts can be found here. Feel free to send me more. Angst prompts can be found on my masterlist.

Words: 6.4K

Warnings: A bit of blood and a lot of smut (my buzzwords, apparently)

Tagging: @exrthangel @theatrenerd86 @lonelydance @ohsoverykeri @summerofsnowflakes @ramp-it-up @alexander-hamilhoe @honeysucklechocolatedrippin @riiyy @mysearchforgratification @janthony-stan

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Rafa had truly done it this time. He had truly fucked up. Stepped in a pile of shit. Screwed the pooch. Whatever you wanted to call it. All because of a woman in his life who he had never truly appreciated before.

You.

He had always prided himself on his ability to stay cool, calm, and collected when it came to women, but suddenly you had shown up and it had changed everything. Well, he had known you since high school, so you hadn't suddenly shown up per se, but suddenly you had shown up almost naked! Gulp. He couldn't believe he hadn't seen it before. He had always known that you were fine, but it had still taken him almost ten years to realise that you were indeed very, very, very fine!

You had been alluring all summer but for some reason, today was extra torturous: the skimpy little bathing suit tight against your body, how it hugged your tits so he could see your hard nipples through the wet fabric as you emerged from the pool. How it rested against the wonderful shape of your ass. Your skin all wet and slippery. How easy it'd be to just wrap his arms around you and carry you to one of the bedrooms in Diggs' new house. How he could easily make you moan his name repeatedly while he did wonders to your tight little body. Fuck.

Since the day he'd met you, Rafa had always found you insanely cute and funny so naturally he had turned up the charm whenever you were around. You had picked up on it quite fast, had challenged him, and within the first few weeks of your friendship, it had become a continuous game between you; who could flirt the most? Who could make the other person squirm in their own skin? It had always been in good fun and it had never lead to anything apart from whispered sentences late at night and sporadic drunk kisses in the dark. But never more. He had made sure of that.

Of course Rafa had spent some of his teenage years wondering what it would be like to delve into you - but seeing this side to you - seeing you all grown-up and sexy like this just hit differently. He had had a hard time all summer trying to stay as far away from you as possible to not fuck up. Not because he thought he couldn't convince you to spend the night with him, but because he wasn't really sure of the repercussions of sleeping with one of his best friends. At first, he had thought that he just needed to get it out of his system and he had experienced some wonderful sessions of self-relief while imagining you doing all kinds of stuff to him, but after almost three months of lonely nights with the image of your body glued to the back of his eyelids, he realised that he was indeed royally fucked.

From a distance, Rafa watched you neatly lie down your pool towel on a sun bed, in the process flashing your perfect shapes for him. He was well aware that he had been staring at you for quite some time now, but he was wearing his sunglasses and they had been known to conceal a wandering eye or two in the past so he felt safe looking at you from the other end of Diggs' yard. And concealment was of the utmost crucial importance because right now he absolutely could not look away from you: your well-shaped bottom was strutting in the air almost as if inviting him to touch it. He imagined you looking over you shoulder with heavy-hooded eyelids calling him over while touching yourself. He would walk over to you, yank your bathing suit aside, and spread your legs apart for him on the flimsy sun bed. He would delve into you from behind and caress your throat with his lips while you moaned with imminent pleasure. You would—

He suddenly realised how creepy he was being; luring at fine women from a distance?! Pull yourself together, Casal!

With a small shuffle, he tore his gaze away from you and poured himself the drink that he had been meaning to mix before you had stolen away his attention. Vodka Redbull. A horrible drink, really, but he needed the pick-me-up to get over last night's hangover. Sunglasses and advil weren't really doing the trick today.

"She's extra fine this summer isn't she?" Rafa heard his best friend comment beside him.

"Who?" Rafa said quietly as if he had no idea who Diggs was talking about.

Diggs shot Rafa an unimpressed look, "bro, I know you think you're subtle about it, but I've caught you slipping all summer."

Rafa knew his cover was blown. He had never been able to hide anything from his best friend. With a sigh, he mumbled "Has it really been that obvious?"

"I'm not sure if anybody else has noticed but I sure have," Diggs snickered, "you are so smitten!"

"Fuck off bro, I'm not smitten. I could've bagged her ages ago if I wanted to."

"So you wouldn't mind if I walked up to her and made a move?" Diggs arched an eyebrow.

"No," Rafa said, the lie thick in his throat, "- or of course I would mind. It would wound my prospects of ever getting to live out this dirty little fantasy I have in my head, wouldn't it?" he chuckled as he tried to save his obvious lie.

"Oh my, I don't think I've seen you this desperate since... well - ever," Diggs laughed, "and I know she's into you too. Has been for ages. Go turn up the charm for fuck's sake!"

Rafa shot his friend a sideways glance, "we've known her since forever."

"So?"

"A compelling counter-point," Rafa rolled his eyes with a small smirk, "you almost have me convinced."

"Shut up man," Diggs laughed before he continued, "I mean, you've never cared about awkward mornings before. Why do you suddenly care about it with her?"

"She's a good friend," Rafa said quietly.

"Okay, I know what you're thinking; that the absolute worst case scenario is that you guys will never talk to each other again - which, might I add, is highly unlikely!" he quickly added when he saw that Rafa was about to interject. Diggs continued, "you have the same group of friends. You see each other all the time. It simply won't happen. So in my opinion, the worst case scenario is not that you will never talk to each other again, it will in fact be a few months of awkwardness before things bounce back. Who cares? You haven't talked all summer because you're having a hard time keeping it in your pants. You can go on and have a few months of awkwardness afterwards too if it turns out to be weird between you."

"You really think that?" Rafa eyed his best friend for any sign of doubt.

"I'm sure of it," Diggs said resolutely, "you need to give it a shot before someone else comes along and snatches her before your eyes. I know you like her more than what you're telling me."

Rafa had to give it to Diggs; this time, he actually did make a compelling point. "Yeah alright," he groaned before he made a quick decision; he downed the horrible vodka Redbull, mixed two tequila sunrises - your favourite drink, he knew that - and walked over to you with as much swagger as he could muster.

He stopped in front of the tanning bed you were occupying, and immediately attracted your attention as he was shadowing the sun.

"Rafa?" you said and squinted up at him. You had to conceal a small gulp. He looked particularly dreamy today. "Hi..."

Rafa felt his throat run a bit dry, "Hey... I brought you a drink. Tequila sunrise."

"Yeah, uh, thanks..." you eyed him suspiciously as he handed you the tequila sunrise and when he didn't leave afterwards you added, "uhm - would you like to sit down?"

Rafa nodded eagerly and you moved your feet to the side to make room for him on the sun bed next to your body. He sat down close to your knees and had a large sip of his drink, hoping that it would cure some of the dryness he suddenly felt in his throat.

You eyed him intently. It was weird having him up close again. Especially because his absence and weird behaviour had been annoying you all summer. He had been acting totally out of character; he had been almost distant and cold as he had practically ignored you. "What can I do for you, Rafa?" you asked him with a hesitant smile, trying to sound calm. You couldn't reveal how frustrated his absence had made you. He couldn't know that you had been pining after him for years.

Rafa's mind went into overload; oh, what couldn't you do for him? He wanted to let you know that he was one word of approval away from throwing you over his shoulder so he could carry you to Diggs' bedroom. He wanted to do all the things that he had dreamt of for the last couple of months. He wanted you on your knees in front of him. He wanted to tangle his fingers in your hair while your mouth was wrapped around him. He wanted you to send him innocent looks while you let your tongue run over him.

He cleared his throat and shuffled around a bit trying to hide the fact that his slacks had grown a bit tighter. "Uh - I don't need you to do a thing," he said with a secretive smile, "how are you?"

"I'm good," you answered him slowly, still not really sure why he had suddenly approached you. "How about you?"

"I'm perfect," Rafa nodded, "Did you have an alright summer?"

You sent him a surprised smile. He was asking about your summer now? This friendliness he was suddenly portraying seemed to come out of nowhere. "An alright summer, yeah," you leaned back in the sun bed as you realised that you'd have to let Rafa's weird behaviour go. If he had finally worked out whatever had made him act strange since June, it was a good thing for the both of you. It meant that you could have your friend back. You could have your flirting back - and my god, how you had missed being on the receiving end of his excessive flirting!

"Glad to hear it," he smiled at you while running his fingers through his blonde hair.

"You've grown out your hair," you stated with a nod.

"Yeah," Rafa smiled and tugged on one of his long locks, "Diggs kept telling me that I looked 35 with the short hair and the beard, so I figured it'd be best to let it get a bit longer again."

"You look nice," you smiled at him, "I've always liked this hairstyle on you."

Rafa felt an eruption of colour in his chest when he heard your compliment. Relax, Casal, she's just flirting as usual. "Yeah, thanks," he said and looked at his feet to conceal the goofy smile that was slowly creeping onto his lips, "It's really great to see you. I feel like we haven't talked in forever," he muttered quietly.

You had already forgiven him for his weird behaviour but you were still determined to find out why you hadn't talked in forever. You let your gaze pierce through him, "I'm actually quite glad that you approached me," you eyed him. Now seemed just as good a time as any to bring it up, "I've been wanting to talk to you."

"Yeah?" He looked up at you with a twinkle in his eye, "About what?"

You looked around on the other sun beds. Maybe he wasn't too keen on discussing private matters in front of the rest of the gang. "It's a bit crowded out here," you said with a smile, "wanna go inside?"

Rafa nodded eagerly and stood up from the sun bed, pulling you to your feet. "Ladies first," he mumbled and let you walk a few feet in front of him.

"When did you become so gallant?" you laughed at him.

When I realised that you are, in fact, more than averagely well-turned, Rafa thought to himself. He had thought it through; walking a few feet behind you would allow him to look at your well-proportionate body parts swaying in the sunlight without fear of getting caught by you. He was mildly disgusted with himself but pushed the thought away before he followed you inside like an obedient pet, his eyes glued to your tanned legs.

You led Rafa to the secluded kitchen away from the pool area. Alone at last, you turned around and leaned up against the kitchen counter, looking at the handsome man in front of you.

He was having a hard time concentrating on your face as the shift in temperature from the sun outside to the air-conditioned kitchen had made your nipples rock hard. He could see them through the thin fabric of your red bathing suit, and all he wanted to do was to slip his hands under there and massage your tits with his warm hands. He wanted to pull down the straps to reveal your beautiful build to him. He wanted to take your breasts in his mouth and circle your nipples with his tongue until you were begging him to take you to a room with a bed.

"Are you alright?" you asked him when he seemed a little distant.

"Yeah, I'm good," Rafa smirked at the mental image of you on all four in front of him, "what's up?"

"I'm gonna be straight with you. I hope that's okay."

"Of course," Rafa gave himself a mental shake and promised himself that he would concentrate on your words and not your body. This seemed important to you.

"Have you been angry with me?" You looked at him with piercing eyes.

The question took Rafa aback, "What? Why would I have been angry with you?"

"No clue," you shrugged, "but you've been weirdly dismissive all summer and you've kept your distance to me, so I've been wondering if I've done something to upset you."

"No, everything's in perfect order. You've been perfectly fine," he said with a small smirk.

"So we're okay? You and me?"

"Of course," he nodded, "more than okay."

"Good, I'm glad to hear you say that."

There was a small awkward pause between you where neither of you knew what to do or say. Rafa tried desperately not to look at your round tits right in front of him, so he directed his attention to the wine cooler behind you in an attempt to look occupied. It gave him an idea however: "Hey, did Diggs ever give you a tour of the house?" he asked you, eyes glued to a bottle of nice champagne in the cooler.

"Not yet," you smiled, "he promised me one later."

"Yeah, same," Rafa mumbled, opened the cooler, and pulled out the champagne bottle, "how about we show ourselves around?" he said and wriggled his eyebrows, "sprinkle it up with a little champagne, you know?" he winked at you.

"Now who could say no to that?" you laughed and watched Rafa pop the champagne and pour you a glass.

"Cheers," Rafa held out his glass and you gladly clinked it.

He emptied his entire glass in one fast gulp, "this is some fancy shit," he said quietly while examining the bottle.

"Should we even be drinking this?"

Rafa directed his attention towards you with a small laugh, "well it's open now isn't it? I'm sure Diggs won't mind. Bottoms up before we continue our tour. I'll get you a refill."

You smiled to yourself; Rafa's nonchalant and cavalier attitude was exactly what had attracted you to him in the first place. You did as he said, gulped down the golden liquid, and was soon standing with another full glass in hand. "Where to first?" you asked after you'd had a sip of the second glass.

"Upstairs?" Rafa asked with a shrug, grabbing both his glass and the bottle with his left hand. He put his right hand on the small of your back, and directed you towards the staircase. He noticed a small smile creep onto your lips at the skin-against-skin contact. You were both back to your usual flirting and his plan was in action. Shake, rattle, and roll.

He let you climb the stairs in front of him and it didn't take him long before he was completely hypnotised by the swaying ass in front of him. The nice curve. The way the red fabric clung nicely to your buttocks every time you took a step forwards. The tantalising sway. And he couldn't even touch you. It was pure torture, he told himself as he gulped down his second glass of champagne while following you up the stairs. He clearly needed it.

"Refill?" he asked you as you'd reached the top.

"So soon?" you arched an eyebrow at him but emptied your glass, ready for your third refill.

"I'm thirsty," Rafa smirked and could already feel his hangover disappear as it was replaced with him getting tipsy. "Rules of champagne-tours are that you need to empty your glass before you enter a room."

"Okay, you're clearly more updated on the rules than I am so I believe you," you laughed at him and took a look around the first floor, "left or right?" you asked.

"Let's try left," Rafa said and followed you to a small room, "Wait! Before you enter you need to empty your glass."

"Again? Are you trying to get me drunk?" you arched an eyebrow at him.

"Hey, I don't make the rules," he sent you an innocent look before he emptied his third glass.

You sent him a suspicious look but ended up following suit and emptied your glass before you let him refill it a fourth time. You could feel yourself getting more and more tipsy. And Rafa looked cuter and cuter.

"After you," he said and opened the door to the small room in front of you.

"Okay, this is an office or something of the sort," you laughed after you'd entered, "this is boring."

"Very boring," Rafa groaned as he took in the desk, the computer, and the three filing cabinets standing along one of the walls. "Let's move along shall we?" he whipped around and hit his head against a cabinet on the wall with a loud bang.

He heard you gasp behind him before he felt the sharp pain on his cheekbone followed by something wet running down the side of his face. He turned around, facing you, the blood running steadily down his cheek.

"Are you okay?" you said in a concerned voice before it turned to laughter.

"Hey, why are you laughing?" Rafa chuckled at the sight of you as he touched the warm blood running down his face

"I'm so sorry!" you continued laughing, "but you should see the look on your face right now. You look so wronged!"

"It was an assassination attempt!" he smiled, "did you bring me in here to neutralise me?" he emptied his fourth glass of champagne to soothe the sharp pain.

"Yes," you said all seriously, "I work for the Israeli government and I've been sent to America to take out whiney boys who steal champagne from their best friends. And as revenge, I let them bleed."

"Would a Mossad agent such as yourself happen know how to clean a wound?" He asked with a playful smile, "because I think I might need a small band-aid. This shit will not stop bleeding."

"Lucky for you, I'm specialised in treating wounded animals in Siberia. Come," you took his hand and pulled him towards a bathroom you'd noticed as you'd passed it in the hallway.

Rafa liked being tugged around by you: your small hand in his felt absolutely right. He wondered what it would feel like with your fingers wrapped around his erection and he felt his cock do a small twitch in his boxers at the mental image of you rubbing him off. ...Okay he really needed to pull himself together.

Desperate to think of something else he looked around the bathroom. "Indoor hot tub!" he exclaimed as you let go of his hand and went to the small cabinet under the sink.

"Only eighties kids get this excited over a hot tub inside," you laughed at his excited kid-like face and pulled out a band aid and some rubbing alcohol, "sit down on the edge so I can clean the wound."

"Yes ma'am," Rafa said and looked at you as you concentrated on reading the instructions on the bottle of rubbing alcohol. You looked damned cute with your nose all scrunched up.

You found a cotton pad in the cabinet as well and sat down next to him, "okay," you looked him in the eye, "this is gonna sting but try to sit still."

"Okay," he said quietly and waited with anticipation for your hands to touch his skin - even if it was a place as non-sexy as the skin below his eye where he had cut himself by being embarrassing. He took whatever he could get.

You carefully draped the cotton pad across the cut he had on his cheekbone and felt yourself blush as he closed his eyes and hissed involuntarily. You wanted to rip his clothes off.

He felt your small fingers ghost over his skin as you cleaned the wound. He tried to fight it, but couldn't hold back the visible shiver that went through his body.

"Aw, Casal, am I giving you goosebumps?" you laughed softly as you cleaned his cheek.

"Yeah," he smiled goofily at you and felt the champagne talk some courage into him, "it's either the cold from the rubbing alcohol or your bathing suit. Not sure which."

"My bathing suit?" you laughed at him.

Rafa chuckled softly, "yeah, it's a nice colour," he mumbled, "this red looks amazing on you."

"So you're saying that the colour of my bathing suit is sending shivers down your spine?"

"Yeah..." he said in an obvious lie.

"The colour... and not the cut?" you asked looking into his eyes, wriggling your chest in front of him. You had always loved the rare times where you could make Rafa - the always calm and collected womaniser - uncomfortable. This seemed like one of those times.

"Uh - the - uh - the bathing suit isn't too shabby either," Rafa chuckled slightly as he let his eyes run over your wriggling chest. You would definitely be the death of him.

"You like my bathing suit?" you said quietly as you too felt the champagne rush to your head.

This time, Rafa didn't answer you but just nodded and gulped visibly. He looked as if he was having a hard time keeping his hands to himself and it was turning you the fuck on. For years, you had wanted Rafa to actually do something about his relentless flirting. "I have to admit; I bought it with you in mind," you sent him a small shrug as if it was nothing.

His smile grew wide, "yeah? Did you dress up like this just for me?"

"I wanted you to notice me," you said with a small smile.

"Well it worked," he said quietly and ran his eyes over your chest.

"Good," you chuckled and turned your face away from his. In the past, he had had several chances to act and he hadn't. It was stupid of you to believe that he wanted more than just a bit of casual flirting - even if it did feel like years of flirting had been leading to this moment.

Glad to have something that could divert your attention away from the very fuckable guy in front of you, you picked up the band aid that was lying in your lap, took it out of its packaging and carefully put in over the cut on Rafa's cheek bone. Your eyes were glued to the cut for a couple of seconds, allowing Rafa to gaze into your eyes.

It's now or never, he thought to himself and reacted before he could hold himself back; he reached out his hand and put it just below your chin, leaned forwards and planted a brief, soft kiss on your lips. You had kissed before but this one somehow felt different. His kisses had always been short and sweet - he had practically perfected pulling away from you before losing all control - but today was extra hard. He couldn't believe himself... Ten years of holding himself back and a fucking bathing suit had him feeling like a teenager again. Calm the fuck down, Casal.

"Thanks for taking care of me," he hummed against your lips and retracted his face from yours.

You let out a small whimper at the lack of contact but came to your senses soon enough. "A pleasure," you smiled up at him and slightly cleared your throat, "we should continue our tour."

Rafa nodded and emptied the rest of the champagne bottle in each of your glasses. He quickly poured it down his throat. "House rules," he shrugged when you sent him a bemused smile.

You followed suit, bottomed up and put down your glass next to the kitchen sink. You gave Rafa's arm a slight tug and urged him to follow you to the next room on the tour.

Rafa gladly - and slightly dizzy - followed you out of the bathroom and into the next room on the tour; Diggs' bedroom apparently. It seemed almost scripted.

"Master bedroom," you exclaimed when you saw the king sized bed in the middle of the room. You looked over at Rafa who was swaying a little, "are you okay?" you laughed.

"I'm a bit dizzy," Rafa joined in laughing, "not sure if it's the assassination attempt or the amount of champagne I've had."

"Probably a little bit of both," you smiled and put a hand on his arm to help him steady a little, "do you need to lie down for a minute?"

"Yeah, I think I better," he let out a small laugh and threw himself down on the bed.

You quickly followed suit, and positioned yourself on the bed next to him, "is the room spinning or is it just me?" you laughed.

"Oh it's definitely spinning," Rafa chuckled and reached out to touch your hand, "ah, much better," he said as he recalled the feeling in his abdomen when you had kissed only minutes earlier. He wanted to kiss you again. He couldn't hold himself back.

"I agree," you said softly and looked over at him, "how's your boo-boo?" you let out a small laugh.

"Still stings," he shot you a small smile and remembered Diggs words. He had to snatch you up before someone else did. What he did now seemed to be crucial to how your interactions would be shaped in the future. So he decided to just go for it, "you know... my mom used to kiss the pain away."

"You want me to kiss it off you?" You laughed.

"It might help," he said and brushed his fingers against your skin as his hand moved further up your arm.

"Are you trying to seduce me?" you laughed.

"Yeah, maybe," Rafa said and felt how the champagne made him daring and truthful, "you've been driving me insane all summer."

"I have?" you chuckled, slightly surprised, "is that why you've stayed away from me?"

"Yeah, I've been having a hard time keeping my hands to myself..." he chuckled innocently.

You decided to act on how cute you'd always found Rafa, leaned closer to him and repeated the short and sweet kiss you'd shared in the bathroom a couple of minutes earlier.

When you retracted your lips from his, Rafa moved his head forwards and continued the soft kiss, this time with a bit more power to it.

This was definitely new, you thought to yourself as you moved your lips in time with Rafa's.

He popped himself up on one elbow and kissed you so sensually that you physically felt the wetness between your legs. So his tongue could do more than spit out silvered words? Rafa had game! His soft tongue was slowly caressing yours while he let his hand run over your upper body. You felt the goosebumps emerge on your skin as he ran his fingers over your ribcage.

Rafa broke the kiss and sent you a smirk, "look who's sending who shivers now," he snickered.

"Shut up," you groaned and leaned forwards, softly recapturing his lips.

He hummed against you as you slowly moved your lips across his. His thumbs were brushing against the sensitive skin just below your boobs, but he didn't touch you anywhere that wasn't considered safe. He wanted you to approve of it before he delved into you.

You understood his careful actions and wriggled around a bit to get him to touch you properly.

"Are you sure?" he whispered against your lips, "you've had quite a bit to drink and I've been trying to seduce you."

"Just be happy it worked," you smiled against him, "I've been wanting this too..."

Rafa's smile grew wide, "really?" he laughed

"Yes. Now shut up and kiss me."

He inched his lips closer to yours and captured them once more. His tongue caressed yours slowly and sensually while his hand squeezed your thigh tightly. A small moan escaped your lips when your fingers tugged on his long strands of hair.

Rafa pulled you on top of him so you were straddling his waist.

You let out a small smirk when you felt his erection underneath you, "you're already hard."

"I've been hard all summer," he groaned as his lips found your throat, "you've been driving me insane in all your little sundresses. You have no idea how hard it's been to hold myself back."

"You don't have to hold yourself back with me," you whispered and looked into his green eyes while you moved your hips suggestively on top of him.

"From now on, I have no intentions of doing so," he groaned at the friction, his hands moving to the straps of your bathing suit. Slowly, he pulled them over your arms, making sure to kiss your clavicles in the meantime. He pulled down the red bathing suit and revealed your small round tits topped with small perky nipples for him. Exactly as he had imagined. He took one of your nipples in his mouth, while showing the other love by cupping your breast lovingly. You let out a sharp moan when you felt his tongue circle your areola.

Rafa's erection grew considerably and when you danced your fingers down his chest, and he decided to do something about it. He threw you down on the bed next to him and forcefully ripped off the bottom half of your bathing suit, leaving you completely naked on the bed. He took a step back and admired your finally naked body before him, your wet pussy glistening in the sunlight. He palmed himself through his slacks and let out a groan at the sight of you writhing on the bed, looking up at him with lust in your eyes. Your small hand was running along the length of your glistening slit and he had never been more jealous of a couple of fingers.

"Take of your clothes," you panted as you spread your legs apart.

Rafa quickly shuffled out of his shirt and slacks but kept his boxers on.

"Last chance to back out," he said as he leaned over you and trailed his hand down your body. You let out a small moan as his lips found yours, his fingers hovering above your waistline. "If you keep making those sounds I'm not going to be able to stop myself," he groaned in between kisses.

"Who says I want you to stop?" You let out yet another moan as his tongue found yours again.

"Good," he smirked against you. His fingers found your heated centre and you let out a raspy breath when his fingers dipped inside your sensitive folds. "Fuck you're so wet for me," he growled as he easily found your tight opening and pushed a couple of fingers inside you. You were moaning excessively and pushing yourself against his playful fingers as the was toying with you.

"Fuck, you look so good with my fingers inside you," he growled, "tell me how much you've wanted this!"

"So bad," you panted and looked up into his darkened eyes, "I've been wanting you to fuck me for years."

"Yeah?" He felt himself getting even more excited and he moved his fingers faster in an out if you, "have you been thinking about me when you're alone at night?"

"Yes," you whispered.

"Tell me about what you've been fantasising about."

You pushed his fingers out of you and sat up straight on the bed, sending him a lustful look. "I've been thinking about your big, heavy cock," you said as you pulled off his boxers, revealing his erection to you. You took him in your hand and ran your tongue over his wet head. Rafa shot back his head with a small groan, but kept the eye contact.

"What else?" He panted as he watched you pop his head in your mouth.

"This," you said, "my lips around you. Your fingers inside me."

"How can I deny you that?" He stroked your cheek, "lie down."

You did as he told and watched Rafa climb onto the bed on his knees. He positioned himself close to your face and ran his hand down your abdomen, his fingers easily finding their way to your pussy. You reached up and grabbed him by the root, positioning yourself so you could wrap your lips around him while his fingers worked their way inside you.

You bopped your mouth up and down his length a few times, releasing his head with a small pop before starting over.

"Oh fuck," he groaned as he bucked his hips closer to your face, "fuck you look amazing."

You let your tongue swirl around him while your hand pumped up and down him a few times. He shot back his head with a groan, "fuck I'm not going to last long," he panted.

You pulled your face away from him and said, "are you going to cum down my throat?" Before your lips resumed their positions around him.

"Yes," he panted, "are you going to take it all for me?"

You nodded and pulled him down your throat.

"Oh fuck," he panted and pushed his hair out of his eyes, "fuck you're working me like a pro."

You tightened your lips' grip around him and swirled your tongue around his head that had started leaking down your throat.

"Oh shit," he groaned and caressed the side of your face, "fuck you look so sexy with your lips around my cock. Fuck I'm so close!"

You pulled him as far down your throat as you could and reached up to cup his balls.

Rafa's breathing was hushed and shallow and he had his eyes closed. His fingers were still fidgeting with your clit but his movements were sporadic and lazy as he couldn't concentrate on much else apart from the tight wetness around him. With your tongue swirling around his head, your left hand cupping his balls, and your right hand working its way up and down his shaft, he gave out three loud grunts before he started shaking above you, warm cum shooting down your throat. He grunted a few times with his eyes closed before he came to his senses, pulled his fingers out of you and licked them only to have them resume their positions on your core.

"Oh god," you moaned as his fingers curled inside you, "oh fuck Rafa."

"Turn around for me," he whispered.

Quickly, you turned around and were sitting on all four in front of him.

"Ass up," he said and gave you a hard spank before he ran his hand over you.

With a pant, you buried your face in the mattress, "are you going to fuck me now?"

"I can't do that now," he groaned and positioned his face behind you, "it's your fault. You and your amazing lips," he said and caressed your ass with his hands for a couple of seconds, "say my name," he groaned as ran his tongue over you.

"Rafa!" You moaned when you felt his tongue.

"No. My name," he gave out a muffled demand.

"Rafael," you panted and he pushed his fingers inside you as a reward.

"Yeah, that's right," he said darkly and felt you tighten around his fingers, "fuck you're driving me insane. You're so good for me. Have you been wanting this for a long time?"

"Uh-huh," you panted in response.

"Show me," he panted before he started moving his tongue and fingers faster against you.

"Oh fuck! Rafa! Rafael!" You moaned loudly as you felt all your nerve-endings tightening between your legs. Rafa's tongue was moving sloppily over you as you cried out with your release, the grip around his fingers pulsating and tightening significantly.

Rafa was enjoying the sight before him - although a little disappointed that your tight gripping was wasted on something as boring as his fingers.

When you had panted and moaned out his name, he pulled his fingers out of you and let you plump down on the mattress.

You were still panting when you looked up at him with a huge grin, "why have we never done this before?"

"Because we're very stupid," Rafa chuckled and plumped down next to you, "that was amazing!"

"Yeah, definitely."

"Next time, I'm not letting you corrupt me to cum down your throat," he groaned and gave your breasts a kiss, "next time, I'm going to fuck you so hard."

"We're gonna do it again?" You arched a bemused eyebrow at him.

"Of course. Call me selfish but I don't ever want anyone else to touch you."

#rafael casal x reader #rafael casal #daveed diggs #blindspotting #rafael casal imagine #smut #smut prompts #rafael casal fanfiction #bay boys

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bestintheparsec · 4 years ago

Text

The Same Coin - Part 5

Masterlist

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

A/N: I think y’all will like this one (please don’t hate me👀)! This was probably the most challenging chapter to write so far because it’s a heavier one, but it’s also my favorite😏 Special thanks to @murdermewithbooks for helping me plot this one out, because I hate writing action😂 Thank you so much for the kind words you’ve been leaving on this series, it means so much. I hope you enjoy, and as always feedback is welcome and appreciated!

Words: 5.1k

Warnings: canon-typical violence, mentions of death, Angst™, a serving of Tender

The news blares on high volume as soon as Javier turns the TV on. The reporter recounts the events of the last several hours, as if branding a harsh reminder into his head. Several killed, many injured in ambush - Escobar likely suspect. Among dead: one officer and unidentified bystander. He takes the cigarette out of his mouth only so he can throw down another glass of whatever liquor was at the front of the cabinet when he got home. His head throbs, but it’s not from the alcohol—he’d rather be numb, though that’s not a reprieve he deserves to feel. He barely remembers to blink as he stares at the screen, the events of the night a blur that’s smeared across his memory.

After the phone call with the informant at the bar, Javier offers to drive you home while Steve and Connie stay behind for a bit longer. The ride home is short and quiet with neither of you wanting to bring up the conversation from earlier—the only sounds are those of gravel meeting the car’s tires as he pulls up to the apartment complex. He walks you to your flat next door, much to your confusion, then pauses before asking to talk to you inside. You wrinkle your brows at him, but nod after a moment, unlocking the door. The door creaks more loudly than usual as you step aside for him to come in after you, then shut it quietly behind him. He follows as you walk to the living room, setting down your keys and bag before turning to him, rubbing one of your arms nervously—he feels a bit of anxiety himself. Apprehensively, he meets your timid gaze, and the room is somehow more silent than it is when empty.

“What is it?” you ask, hesitantly. You have this wistful look in your eyes that he knows will tug on his conscience later.

For a moment it seems as though you expect him to bring up the conversation from earlier at the bar. But his mind couldn’t be further away—in fact, he’s trying not to think of it. Right now, he’s just trying to think of how to ask for your help—and trying not to let it bother him that he needs it at all.

“You once told me you were tired of no one getting things done. Right?” he starts. His tone is calm, but you still look at him dubiously and he knows this isn’t going to be easy.

“Yes...what does that—” you begin to ask.

“I need your help with a mission.”

“Okay? That’s kind of our job?” you ask again, putting your hands in your pockets and shrugging.

“A discreet mission,” he emphasizes, raising a brow.

The lightbulb seems to turn on for you and you shake your head, crossing your arms. “Oh, no, Peña, you’re not pulling me into another one of your back-alley schemes,” you quip, raising your voice just a little.

“Look, just hear me out,” he pleads, stepping closer to you. You shake your head again.

“You don’t need to do anything illegal,” he reassures you. “But I need someone else with us who’s on our side, a second pair of eyes.”

“Who is ‘us’? And why me, not Steve?” you ask, standing up straighter.

“Murphy’s gotten into too much trouble already—he’s one fuck-up away from being sent back to the states as it is. The ambassador’s going to have his ass if he gets involved in anything else.”

“So you want me to get in trouble?”

“No, you’re not going to get in—” Javier sighs with exasperation, putting a hand on his hip. “You’re not going to get in trouble. Murphy will stay back and verify things at headquarters. It’ll be fine, just trust me.”

“Who is ‘us’?” you ask again. Your tone is impatient, Javier notes while unclenching his jaw and trying not to scowl.

“I’m going to have one of my...informants be a fly on the wall. We have confirmed intel on where Escobar’s going to be next week. The cartel’s having some sort of meeting at a hotel.”

“What kind of informant is willing to go in there with those assholes? How do you know him?”

“Her name is Lina. And she’ll do it. She has her reasons for helping us.”

“‘Her’? How do you know her?” You look at him curiously, but he doesn’t answer—it shouldn’t take you long to figure it out.

The look on his face tells you what you don’t need to ask, and you let out a huff.

“You want to use a civilian as a spy? She’s not an agent, she has no protection. Why would she want to do this?” you ask incredulously.

“Just leave that to me,” he asserts.

“Peña, that’s never going to work. It’s a terrible idea, one that’s going to get someone hurt.”

“I thought you were tired of how they’ve been running things?” he chides. “Here’s your chance to get some real intel.”

“And the person who just gave you all of this information. We’re supposed to just trust them?”

“I’m already having Trujillo run some checks with Centra Spike. We’ll be golden.”

Javier sees your frown and feels mildly guilty for asking you. But he wouldn’t ask if he didn’t need to—and he needs to. Another beat passes and you sigh heavily, looking at him intently—he knows that look well, and he can’t help but grin. You shake your head again and glower at him, but he doesn’t miss the tiny smirk that plays on your lips soon after.

You knock on the door to Steve’s apartment upstairs, rocking on your shoes as you wait for him to answer. When he does, you see that the anguished look in his eyes mirrors your own. He and Peña had left the scene well before you did, since you were in charge of the debriefing this time. Truthfully, you’re surprised they both headed straight home instead of to the bar. Steve doesn’t offer any words as he takes the classified papers you’re holding out of your hands. He doesn’t smile as he reaches out and gives your upper arm a squeeze.

“How is he?” you ask quietly, looking down at the ground. Steve runs a hand over his face, letting out an exhale.

“You...should go talk to him. He’ll listen to you,” he says, softly.

You purse your lips, knowing there’s nothing you can say and comprehending Steve’s actual meaning. He needs you. You blink a few times, trying to steady your breathing before you nod. He shouldn’t need you. You tell him good night and slowly turn back to the stairwell once he shuts the door, taking one step at a time back down to the first floor.

Over several days, you both come to a silent mutual agreement to not bring up that night in his room again. It seems to be better this way for the most part, since you can ignore it and focus on your work—that’s what really matters, anyways. For now, the pressing matter at hand is the less-than-ideal undercover mission he’s convinced you to get in on. You’re not happy about it, but if you don’t take the part he’ll do it alone anyways, and you know how well that usually works out.

And so your usual routine falls back into play. The details of the mission are quickly worked out. It’s simple enough—you’ll escort Lina into the hotel, serving as protection, while she attempts to infiltrate the cartel’s group meeting to gain some intel from the men. Two women casually coming and going from their hotel room is innocent enough not to raise any alarm. A small group of officers will be stationed inside beforehand in case there’s any trouble. Peña, who’s already familiar to the narcos due to his prior shady engagements, will stay concealed outside and monitor the perimeter.

The night before the mission you go over to his apartment to run over some final details. You’re sitting cross-legged on the floor jotting something down on your notepad when you hear a knock at the door. Both of you look up from what you’re doing, and he gets up to go answer it.

“Is Steve coming over, too?” you ask, looking at the time. It’s late, and Steve never comes over at this hour.

“No, I’m hungry,” he replies. “Aren’t you?”

He opens the door before you get the chance to answer, and you’re met with the sight of a man holding out a large bag of food. Peña hands the man some bills and thanks him, taking the bag and shutting the door.

“I thought we could use some fuel before tomorrow,” he remarks casually, setting the bag down on the coffee table. Whatever it is, it smells delicious and you have to admit your stomach has been growling quietly. He pulls everything out of the bag, handing you one of the containers. You take it from him, also using the break as an opportunity to stretch out your aching back.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, a tiny smile forming on your lips. He simply nods, sitting down across from you with his own portion and digging in.

“This place is a favorite of mine,” you comment after swallowing the first bite.

“I know. You told us during one of our late nights,” he answers, holding your slightly widened gaze a second longer than necessary. You don’t have anything to say to that, immediately suppressing the warmth that’s rushing into your face. You almost allow yourself to feel flattered that he would remember some minute detail like that, but quickly dismiss the thought. You’ve been working together for long enough that he’s bound to have caught on to your preferences.

As you finish your late-night snack, you find yourselves putting the business of the mission behind for just a while. Instead, you both delve into some light stories about your past lives, the ones you lived back in the states. You tell him that sometimes your old life feels like a fever dream. Things were different then—with the things you’ve seen here, you’ve lost a bit of yourself. You know he’s no stranger to that feeling, either. There was a time where you could sleep without the weight of the world pressing down on you—where facing the days alone wasn’t all that unbearable. Oddly enough, you don’t feel that alone now—not completely, anyway.

He must notice you’ve drifted off in your mind for a bit, making some remark to pull you back to reality. You mention a passing thought about how you’re not the same person you once were.

“I was a good man, back then. I think I was, at least,” he murmurs, out of the blue. It sounds as if he’s thinking out loud rather than telling it to you. He stares at his hands for a moment before locking eyes with you. You hold his gaze, pulling your knees up to your stomach and observing him quietly.

“You’re a good man now, Peña,” you tell him. The words come out of your mouth without warning, but you’re more surprised that they came so easily. The expression on his face is inscrutable as he ponders on what you said. He leans forward to put the empty container of food down, then crosses his hands together. His eyes are soft, but the way he scoffs quietly tells you he doesn’t believe you.

“Albeit a petulant, stubborn man,” you playfully add, getting a chuckle from him. He changes the subject, asking you something else about your old life and rambling about some more stories of his own. You laugh genuinely at some joke he makes about the higher ups at the embassy, and for the first time in a while you feel like the air is a little bit lighter between you.

There’s something about the way your eyes light up when you talk about the things you love—something that, in a different life, he would’ve taken every chance to see more often. It’s such a stark contrast from the look on your face whenever you’re determined to change his mind, much like you had when you’d warned him about this mission. I should’ve fucking listened. He has no one else to blame except himself, though he knows you and Murphy will try to tell him otherwise. Javier thinks of the irony of it—the one time you tell him he’s a good man, and he’s never been further from being one. He’s never cared what you thought of him before, but he does now. He downs some more liquor, simultaneously finding comfort and torment in his thoughts of you.

Static noise comes from the walkie talkie.

Something’s wrong. One of the soldiers had been detailing his surroundings when he suddenly got cut off mid-sentence. That’s the first thing that makes Javier's stomach turn on itself as he hisses into the walkie a second time. Trujillo’s driving—speeding—down the street to the hotel as Javier swears under his breath, leaning forward in the passenger seat as if it’ll get him there any faster.

“Garcia!” he yells, waiting for an answer. “Martinez!” He swears again, louder, when there’s still no response. His adrenaline kicked in a while ago, but now the feeling of sheer panic suddenly floods his entire body, filling every vein. His voice falters when he calls your name, knowing it’s for nothing—you had gone in with Lina, armed but with no means of communication. The narcos posted on guard at the front of the hotel meant you could have only a gun hidden in its holster under your dress.

“Agent Peña—” one of the men finally answers, and Javier immediately straightens.

“Escobar...he planned…” The blood leaves Javier’s face as he hears the words. This was a setup.

The car screeches to an abrupt stop outside the hotel as Javier calls for the other soldiers again. Trujillo hastily calls Murphy to bring in backup.

“What is going on in there?” Javier yells.

“Man down...agent...she’s...they—” there’s screaming in the background and static continues to deform the man’s words.

“She’s what, Garcia? Where are they? Get out of there, now!” Javier shouts, but is met with silence again.

The TV reporter moves on to some other story, but Javier doesn't hear a single thing she's saying. He barely has the energy to hear his own thoughts, let alone some outsider's rendition of the latest tragedy. He puts out his cigarette in the ashtray, running his hand over his face. Over the course of the last few hours, he’s had every emotion run through him. Guilt, as he remembers the look on their faces when they covered the bodies and rolled the gurneys away. He’s not sure he’ll ever unsee it. Fear, a different kind of fear he’s not familiar with, when he thinks of you.

You weren’t in the range of fire, you’d told him once you were out. You had sensed something was off and went in to find Lina, pulling her out with you when the shots started to ring out. But it was too late—the narcos had hit her. The soldiers had to pull you off her, urging you to get outside to safety. They’d alerted the men outside with Javier that you were coming so they wouldn’t fire.

Javier’s never known a sensation of relief as strong as the one he felt when he saw your figure exit the building.

“What the hell happened?” You ask with horror in your eyes as you run over to Javier on the street outside. You must be flustered, not hearing him when he asks if you’re okay. You’re panting and out of breath, not knowing that he’s finally breathing again, too.

Javier resists the urge to put a hand on your shoulder as he asks you again. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you answer with an exhale. “Don’t worry about me now.” He keeps his eyes on you a little longer, subtly looking you up and down to make sure you’re actually unharmed.

Once he’s certain you’re safe, Javier glances over at the paramedics rolling people towards the ambulances, the tension returning to his body. Murphy walks over to the two of you, head hanging low. He doesn’t look at either of you, just briefly runs some information by you.

Javier’s shoulders drop as he runs a hand through his hair, going over to the paramedic. He doesn’t need to look back to know you and Murphy are watching him with concerned, pitying looks on your faces. The paramedic’s about to cover the body when he gently stops her with his hand. He looks at Lina, her eyes closed as though she’s asleep. He whispers the apology she’ll never hear, silently lingering there for a long moment before nodding at the paramedic and walking away.

He goes back over to you and Murphy, who merely places a hand on Javier’s arm.

“Don’t,” Javier mutters, shrugging it off. “Just...don’t.” He walks back to the car and Murphy follows. He gets back into the passenger seat, slamming the door as Murphy starts the car and drives off in the too-quiet night. He knows you're alright, or else he wouldn't have left you on your own. But as he watches your figure get smaller in the car's side view mirror, he feels a smoldering sensation of regret in the pit of his stomach, one he knows won't leave him any sooner than his guilt about tonight.

You still have his key—you never got around to giving it back—so you let yourself in after a few light knocks that you know he won't answer. It’s dark in his apartment save for a dim lamp, but you can see the flickering lights of the TV casting a glow from his bedroom. You approach his door, and it feels a little easier than it did the first time despite the somber atmosphere that weighs down on you both. He’s sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at the screen with glazed eyes. Your footsteps are light as you cross the room toward him, as though you might break something if you make even a single sound. His bed sinks with your movement as you quietly sit down next to him, picking up the remote from the nightstand. You switch off the TV, shunning the news reporter into silence. He still makes no movement as you shift to face him, the mattress creaking in response.

He doesn’t meet your eyes, keeping his gaze straight ahead. You wonder if he’s miles away in his head. The incandescent yellow light from the lamp casts dark shadows on the features of his face, but you know his heavy undereyes are similar to your own.

“We’re with you, you know,” you say softly, breaking the unbearable silence. “We’re not going anywhere.”

He doesn’t respond, but you don’t expect him to.

He raises his head to look at you now. His jaw is tense and his eyes carry a pain you wish you could hold for him, even for just a while. He doesn’t say anything but the way he’s looking at you is almost intense enough to make you avert your eyes. You’re suddenly very aware that you’re inches away from him. Months ago, you would’ve said this was far too close. But now you find him subconsciously leaning into you ever so slightly, and you don’t have the strength or desire to move away. For a millisecond you catch him glancing down at your lips, then back to your eyes. It feels like an eternity later when he lifts his hand and moves it to your face, not quite touching you yet. His fingers hover with uncertainty over your skin, but it’s close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from his hand. He keeps his gaze on you, his eyes soft as he swallows dryly. You think you have an idea of what this is—he needs a distraction, one he's always found through physical contact, one you can give him. But this feels different, like there's something else there that neither of you will say out loud. You bite the inside of your cheek when you realize that you just might want it, too. You’re so focused on quieting your own heart rate that it startles you when his fingertips briskly touch your skin and brush along your jaw. He traces his thumb gently over the curve of your cheek, and you swear his fingers are trembling. Slowly, he traces his fingers back up your jawline and sweeps a few strands of your hair behind your ear. Then he breaks eye contact at the same time his fingers leave your skin, and it’s so unexpected that you silently inhale a breath of air you didn’t know you needed. No longer meeting your gaze, he lowers his hand and gently places his fingers under your chin, tilting your face up to him. His mouth is slightly parted as he glances at your lips again. He runs his thumb delicately along your lower lip, and the sensation of his gentle touch feels like static electricity. You’re watching him quietly, observing all the shadowed features of his face that you’ve never noticed before—the crinkles around his eyes, the curve of his jaw. He cups your face with his hand as he leans in a centimeter closer, and you nearly feel your heart jump out of your chest. You look down at his lips and start to lean in yourself, both of you waiting for a cue to fully close the distance. There’s a magnetic pull as his lips hover agonizingly close to yours.

But just like that, he drops his hand and you see the expression in his eyes change to one of remorse. You turn away as he pulls back, and your face grows warm. You straighten your posture; your mind’s still catching up to what just happened. Maybe it really is for the best. Neither of you are able to find the right words to say. Only seconds pass but you decide you should leave now, that this won't happen again. You couldn't bear it, not a second time.

He doesn't meet your eyes as you start to stand, and you give no explanation. But you only take one step before you feel his hand gently wrap around your arm, stopping you.

Javier wants to let you go. There are few things either of you have control over, but this is one of them. He wants to stop whatever this is before it goes any further. But before he can even finish the thought to himself, he knows it's a lie. He doesn't know what overcomes him, but he says it anyways.

“No,” he whispers, his voice barely audible. “Please, stay.”

He hates the way it sounds like a plea, hates the way you turn to look at him with hurt in your eyes. He knows that look, and you're the last person he wants to feel like he used. God, he wanted to bring your lips to his, to forget everything and get lost in it all. He already regrets not letting it happen, hates himself for having the nerve to ask you to stay despite this. But tonight, he doesn't want to be alone.

“I, um—” he stammers.

You exhale, but it's more to steady yourself than anything else. “Okay,” you interrupt him, nodding once. His hand slowly trails from your arm down to your hand, holding it gently. Subconsciously you've moved close to him again, standing just in front of his knees and looking down at him. “Okay,” you repeat even more softly. Your own voice quivers now and you’re afraid that if you say anything else, you’ll give yourself away. Whatever line you were afraid of crossing, it's long gone now. He looks as surprised by your answer as you do.

You reach over, turning off the lamp on the nightstand and plunging the room into darkness. You want to tell him things will be okay, but he’s not a fool and neither are you. There’s little left to be said tonight, which is why you decide to stay. You have nothing to offer except your presence, the slight consolation that comes when you share your grief with someone. Some nights, the isolation and loneliness forms walls around you, leaving a space hollow enough to create echoes in your mind. On such nights, you know sharing the burden is better than carrying it alone. He scoots into the center of the bed, hesitantly taking your hand again and pulling you towards him. You tug your shoes off and slowly climb onto the bed, trying not to think about how his rough hand feels on your skin or the way your heart skips a beat. He moves over some more to make room for you then lies down on the pillow. You follow, lying down next to him, your head a little higher up than his. The sheets are cool and his body feels comforting against you, but you're still tense and it takes a few moments for both of you to start relaxing into each other. His fingers intertwine with yours for a moment before you pull them away, moving your hand to his face. Your fingers lightly graze along his jaw, then down along his arm. You can practically hear the gears turning in his head; the same bleak flashbacks are playing in your own mind.

A few quiet seconds go by when he tentatively places a hand over your waist, as if asking for your approval. When you don't pull away, he gradually moves his hand to your back, wrapping his whole arm over you. The warmth of his skin pressed against yours is calming, and you sense he feels the same. He pulls your body in closer to him, putting firm pressure over your waist. You drape your own arm over him, holding him tightly with your hand behind him. He holds onto a fistful of your shirt on your back, and you can feel him trying to distract himself from the remaining tension in his muscles. If he were any closer to you, he'd be nestled into your neck; truth be told, you wouldn’t mind. The sensation of his skin against yours suddenly sparks a reminder of everything you’ve been missing, and you’ve never felt more wholly at peace.

Suddenly, his raspy voice fills the darkness.

“I didn't want this,” he whispers. There’s a lump in your throat as you try to force back your shared affliction that threatens to spill over.

“Of course you didn't,” you answer softly, running a light hand along the back of his head.

“I don’t—” he starts, but you stop him.

“Sleep, Javier.”

At the sound of his name coming from your lips, he tilts his head to look up at you. You've never called him by anything other than ‘Peña’ before; somehow the sound of his name coming from you is a stranger but also an old friend. He can’t see much of your eyes in the dark, but he tries to imagine the look on them now. He knows this isn’t the man you know him to be, but also knows you won’t hold it against him. He moves his hand away from your back, letting his fingers run across your collarbone and up your neck, then to your jaw. You’re almost certain he can feel your pulse pounding against his fingertips. Gingerly, you comb your fingers through his hair and his chest constricts with a feeling he’s been avoiding for too long. Javier's so used to wanting and getting more. But as strange as it is, this is enough. At least, just for tonight.

He reaches down and tugs the comforter over both of you, enveloping you in warmth and naively hoping it’s the only thing that swallows him whole tonight. In this brief moment, with you tucked into him and both of you covered by a blanket of warmth, he wouldn't mind if he is swallowed whole.

He’s still facing you, listening to the sounds of your breathing and taking slow inhales to steady his own breaths. The pain of tonight continues to throb unwaveringly. But eventually his mind grows foggy, and slowly he’s lured off to sleep. The night isn’t as dark when he’s not alone.

You know it's still early when you open your eyes—the city is still asleep outside and there’s no hint of light peeking through the curtains. The first thing you become aware of is that you're still in yesterday's clothes; they're stiff and uncomfortable. The next thing you realize is that you've still got an arm wrapped over Javier’s torso. Javier. His name, even just in your mind, feels unfamiliar yet completely welcome. He'd turned away at some point—his back is pressed against the front of your body, and your knees are resting along the back of his legs. His body is completely relaxed, so you can tell he's still asleep. There's a lot of empty space behind you—all that room but you haven't moved from his side of the bed overnight. You're grateful he was able to sleep, even if only a little. Your cheek is resting on his shoulder; you can feel the rising and falling of his breaths matching the rhythm of your own. Warmth rushes to your face when you realize you'd slept like this all night. You'd dozed off sometime after him, and while it was an unrestful sleep, you somehow feel safer than you do most mornings.

He shifts his arm a bit, breaking you from your thoughts. Your arm is still draped over him and he unconsciously moves his own arm over yours, holding onto you gently. You have a fleeting concern about whether you should get up and go home to your own apartment. But Javier lets out a quiet exhale, which makes you inadvertently nuzzle your cheek even more into the back of his neck. You let yourself close your eyes; they're still heavy with sleep and you allow yourself to doze off again. Physically, and perhaps mentally, you can’t remember the last time you were this close to someone. Maybe—just maybe—this is better than home.

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#javier peña x reader #javier peña #javier pena #javier pena x reader #narcos #narcos fic #my ff #non sw #thanks for not showing up in the tags AGAIN slkdjgslk

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dewitty1 · 4 years ago

Link

Dissident

Constance1

Chapters: 24/24 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Additional Tags: Creature Fic, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, nundu, Angst, Romance, Dubious Consent, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Violence, Knotting, dark at times, but not really, Some fluffy moments too, Mpreg, Falling In Love, Omega Harry, Alpha Draco Malfoy, Drama, Claustrophobia, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Protective Draco Malfoy, Animagus, Christmas

Summary:

In a world of Alphas and Omegas, Harry is surprised to discover that he is a rare male Omega. He assumes his pull towards Draco Malfoy is because the Slytherin is an Alpha, but there is more at play here than even Harry knows.

Excerpt:

Draco noticed his discomfort and, without hesitation, unclasped his black cloak and held it out.

"Won't you get cold?" Harry asked uncertainly.

Draco shook his head and handed it over. "I don't tend to feel the cold."

Harry smiled gratefully as he lifted the expensive woollen garment and draped it around his shoulders. He was immediately infused with the warmth of Draco's lingering body-heat and the scent of the Alpha invaded his nostrils, making him want to sigh with contentment.

Harry hadn't realised that he'd actually closed his eyes in bliss until he opened them again to see Draco arching a questioning brow at him.

"Sorry," he mumbled, cheeks heating, "it smells like you."

Draco blinked, startled out of his mocking amusement.

Harry determinedly shoved away his self-consciousness in order to delve into what it was they needed to discuss. "How is it that you can… resist me, for lack of a better word, when the other two Alphas couldn't keep their hands off of me when we were alone?"

Draco swallowed and nodded, as though freely consenting to Harry's efforts at steering the conversation towards the crux of the matter. "Self-control?" he speculated.

"Really?" Harry replied with a sceptical frown. "So… are you employing self-control right now?"

"Yes."

As soon as the word was out of Draco's mouth, it occurred to Harry that Draco's inscrutable grey eyes had been fairly dilated for the entirety of their meeting, from the moment the door had shut behind him. The Slytherin had also been maintaining his distance up until he sat down, but still not close enough to accidentally make physical contact.

"What about you?" Draco asked stiffly, interrupting his musing. "What are you... feeling?"

Harry could tell Malfoy was uncomfortable with the line of questioning. "Full disclosure?"

"What does that mean?"

"It means we just forget that we're having the most awkward conversation of all time and agree that no question is off-limits."

Instead of appearing deterred, Draco actually looked a little relieved. "Agreed," he nodded.

Harry exhaled and dropped his chin onto his knees, eyes on Draco. "I... What I'm feeling is so hard to describe. I guess I should start by saying that since my inheritance, I've only ever felt drawn to you. It's as you said before, I want to be with you all the time - and not just in a ‘one night stand’ sort of way.”

Draco nodded in understanding.

"Full disclosure," Harry muttered, steeling himself before continuing, "and I want… I have this desire for you to take care of me."

Draco's lips parted and his eyes flashed silver in the weak light.

"And maybe that doesn't sound strange to you but I've always been a fairly independent person and I've never wanted someone to watch over me before," Harry tried to explain.

Draco swallowed before replying. "That… that is like music to an Alpha's ears Potter."

"Huh?" Harry blinked, astonished. "Alphas want me to be like that?"

"If it's your natural reaction, yes," Draco confirmed. "An Alpha lives to take care of his mate, and if that mate longs for their Alpha's presence and protection…"

"It's like an Alpha's wet dream?"

Draco's lips twitched into a smile as he nodded. "That and their mate wishing to start a family."

Harry smiled as he absently rubbed his chin in the soft fabric of Draco's cloak; stirring the scent of the Alpha up into his nostrils with a tiny sigh of pleasure. "So I'm not completely failing at this Omega thing then?"

Draco smirked. "Do you ever fail at anything Potter?"

Harry laughed outright and it felt good. "I guess the next question is… now what?"

Draco's easy expression turned troubled and he hesitated before finally replying. "The proper way of things is for you to register with the Ministry as an Omega so that any enquiring Alpha is informed of your existence and given the opportunity to meet with you."

Harry held his gaze. "And the un-proper way of things?"

Grey eyes searched his face intently. "The… un-proper way of things is to just give in to your urges and settle for the first Alpha that piques your interest."

Harry could feel the atmosphere in the room change as it thickened with a heavy, expectant tension that wasn't altogether unpleasant. "I think I prefer the second option," he replied, mouth suddenly dry and heart pounding wildly in his chest. "If you're interested."

Harry held his breath, feeling horribly exposed as he laid everything out and waited for a response. Yes Draco had his faults; he concealed his emotions, was relentlessly condescending, sarcastic, and was a bit of a ponce. But he was also intelligent, challenging, interesting, didn't pander to Harry's celebrity, and, truth be told, was rather easy on the eyes.

If they could just reconcile their past history, Harry didn't think he could find a more perfect match.

Draco's eyes, which had been positively blazing moments before, suddenly dimmed as he dropped his gaze to the floor, a slight frown creasing his brow.

Sharp and immediate disappointment filled Harry as he nodded mutely and pushed himself to his feet. He wasn't in the mood to hang around to hear the reasons why Draco didn’t want to pursue him as his mate.

Draco swiftly stood up as Harry unclasped the borrowed cloak from around his shoulders and held it out to him.

"Harry, wait," he said at once, ignoring the extended cloak in front of him.

"It's okay," Harry said, forcing a smile. "I just wanted to make sure you knew all the facts before rejecting me."

"No!" Draco exclaimed fiercely, reaching out with one hand to clamp around Harry's arm. "I'm not rejecting you. I want you. Very much," he said bluntly, breathlessly. "In fact, I was planning on approaching you until the idea of a love potion was put into my head. Beta or not, it was beginning to not matter to me anymore Potter. Now that I know you're an Omega and it isn't some sort of trick… I can't… there's just no way that I can let you walk away."

Harry's eyes widened as his heart soared with sudden joy - then immediately sunk like a lead weight. "There's a 'but' though, isn't there?"

Draco's gaze was penetrating as he stared back at him. "There is, however, it has nothing to do with me being uninterested you." He took a step closer, directly into Harry's personal space.

Harry had to tilt his head back to maintain eye contact. The urge to step back to keep some distance - and a clear head - was exceedingly strong, but he managed to resist as he waited expectantly for an explanation.

"There's something you don't know about me that you need to before consenting to be my mate."

Harry felt a shiver run through his body at the title and unconsciously swayed a little towards the Alpha. "What is it?" he asked roughly. A part of him suspected he'd agree to anything Draco said in that moment.

"I can't tell you here," he replied and Harry had never seen the Slytherin look so grave. "Tomorrow, away from the school."

Harry swallowed. "Why?"

Draco's gaze flicked about the room before returning to rest on Harry's questioning expression. "Someone may hear; this castle has eyes and ears everywhere."

Harry raised his brow, a tingle of apprehension suddenly running down his spine. "Is this thing something that will affect my decision?"

Draco's expression didn't change but Harry saw the brief flash of sorrow in his eyes. "It may," was all he said.

Harry frowned at the mysterious sadness he detected deep inside the blond. Without pausing to think about it, he slowly raised a tentative hand to slide trembling fingers across Draco's cheek. His thumb came to rest along one pale cheekbone as he cupped his face and stared intently into grey eyes; trying to discover the Slytherin's secrets and reassure him all at the same time.

Draco closed his eyes briefly and leaned into the touch before mirroring Harry's action by sliding a warm hand across the chilled skin of Harry's cheek. His hand continued sliding backwards into thick unruly hair and moulded firmly to the back of Harry's head.

Harry swallowed and allowed the Alpha to guide him forward, green eyes dropping to stare transfixed as Draco ran a pink tongue over dry lips, and then his eyes fluttered shut as those lips suddenly brushed against his own. It was just a light pressing of lips but it still sent shudders through Harry's body and made his stomach clench with want.

Harry carelessly dropped the cloak to the floor as Draco’s other arm wound its way around his waist and pulled him close. Draco tentatively deepened the kiss but he needn't have worried; Harry was only too happy to comply as he submitted completely.

(◍•ᴗ•◍)♡ ✧*。

#Dissident #Constance1 #Drarry #Drarry Fic rec #fic rec #Drarry Fanfiction #Draco Malfoy #Harry Potter #Hogwarts Eighth Year #Eighth Year #Mpreg #Alpha/beta/omega au #Carey's Bookmark fic recs #Carey's personal fic recs

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cap-winter-barnes · 4 years ago

Text

No Matter What - Dean Winchester x Reader

2K WRITER & READER CHALLENGE

Here it is, my fic for ‘Amanda’s 2K Write & Reader Challenge’ using the prompt “I see the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking”. This is the first piece of writing I have ever done for a challenge and I absolutely loved doing it.

If you enjoy it, please feel free to check out my other work. My requests are always open. And whilst you’re at it, go and give @amanda-teaches a follow and check out her work too, she writes awesome stuff!

Warnings: angst, teeth-rotting fluff

A/N: Based lightly upon the episode ‘Regarding Dean’ (12x11). This episode utterly broke my heart so obviously had to use it for a sad(ish) fic.

Four hours. That is how long it has been since Dean left for food. The motel room lays in silence as I anxiously await his return. Sam retired to bed not too long ago, desperate for some rest, with the sweet promise of Dean’s safe homecoming as his departing words. Sitting in our bed, fully dressed and boots tied securely to my feet, I think of all the possible worst case scenarios. My mind running amok with fear at the absence of the man I love. Without Dean the room we have been sharing is cold, evident by the way the hairs on my arms stand on edge, goosebumps rising on my skin. Rolling the sleeves of his plaid shirt down over my hands, I try and compose myself.

Dean is a hunter, the best there is, and he can handle himself in a fight. If anything were to have happened to him, he’d be alright, he always was. With that sliver of hope in my mind and the knowledge that Dean knows his way around the supernatural, I start to relax slightly. Glancing at the alarm clock on the worn chest of drawers that shows the time as a few minutes past midnight, an involuntary yawn leaves my body. I try and fight the fatigue that has been weighing me down, but I know that the attempt will be futile. With the added stress and worry of Dean not coming back as expected, my body has become overridden with exhaustion. Leaning back into the softness of the pillows behind my back and the prospect of Dean returning safely back to us, I fall into a light slumber.

The repetitive sound of my name being called is what drags me from my sleep, a sleep plagued with terrible nightmares. Slowly opening my eyes to the silhouette of Sam in the doorway makes my body spring upwards from its resting position. A pain shoots through my neck, the realisation that I had in fact slept awkwardly, with my back propped against the wall, and a pillow haphazardly strewn sideways across the headboard. Rubbing at the sore area, I make eye contact with the younger Winchester before taking in his positive demeanour. In his hand, he clutches his phone, shaking it for emphasis when I direct my attention to it. Immediately I forget about the aches which radiate through me and sit upright.

“Sammy-“ Before I can get another word in, he interrupts me, easing my nerves, replacing them with relief.

“He’s alive.” His statement is accompanied by a chuckle of disbelief and a shake of his head. “He’s at Waldo’s. Leave in ten?”

“Make it five, Samuel.”

His laugh, so rarely heard, echoes as he leaves the room, walking across the balcony back to his own room. “Okay, five. And I’m driving.” Hearing his receding voice, I remove myself from the bed and make myself more presentable in preparation for Dean’s excuses.

Upon entering Waldo’s Waffles, both Sam and I, are met with the sight of Dean stuffing his face full of a combination of waffle, banana, blueberry and whipped cream. A lightness filled by heart at seeing him in one piece, no blood to be seen. But there was a shadow of doubt looming over everything, something was wrong. Dean’s blue jacket is caked in mud and dirt, his right sleeve completely covered in the stuff. His face is filthy, dirt embedded into the lines around his eyes and nose, scratches scattered across his cheeks. What had happened last night? I watch on as Sam approaches his brother, rattling a bottle of pills before throwing them into his awaiting hands. Surely this couldn’t be a hangover? It isn’t uncommon for Dean to drink, yet venturing out alone for a night of drinking and returning the next morning with a hangover? That is something he hasn’t done in years.

Eventually snapping out of my moment of thought, I walk over to where they both sit, Dean once again shoving food into his mouth. Noticing my presence, Dean perks up, a typical cheeky grin spreading across his face. He enthusiastically pulls out the vacant stool next to him, gesturing for me to take a seat. I can’t help but smile as he does so, especially when he places a kiss to my cheek. Sam has an expression of utter confusion on his face, glancing repetitively between the both of us. Shrugging my shoulders once Dean’s attention is once again directed at his waffles, supposing he did have a hangover, he wouldn’t normally be so cheerful.

Without looking in my general direction, Dean nudges a full plate of waffles topped with strawberries and an abundance of whipped cream towards me. A fork hangs between his middle and ring fingers, the platinum band that is placed on the latter of the two, shines under the fluorescent lighting. It is still an amazement that it hasn’t gotten scratched or required cutting off from his finger. Before we were married, the discussion of the ring was paramount, but Dean was set on wearing one. His reasoning being that without one it wouldn’t feel true. At his words my heart had fluttered in my chest and continues to do so every time I catch a glimpse of the precious metal on his hand. I take the fork, twirling between my own fingers, watching the rings on my own finger as I do so.

Both brothers delve into conversation about the current case we have been working as I tuck into the waffles that sit before me. Considering I haven’t eaten since before Dean’s disappearance last night, I suddenly find myself starving. Each bite an overwhelming sensation of sweetness and sugar. Every now and again, Dean switches his gaze to me, a soft smile on his lips as he observes me enjoying the food. I listen intently to the boys and the more I do, the more my appetite decreases, worry and concern settles in, sending a shiver through my body. The more Dean says about not remembering his night and his assumption of blacking out, the more I feel nauseous. Dropping the fork onto the plate, I push it as far away from me as I can.

As a distraction, I involve myself within the ongoing discussion.

“Dean, you seriously don’t remember anything about what happened to you last night?” He momentarily thinks over this before responding.

“Nope.” He runs his hands over his face, and it is then, that I truly see how tired he really is.

“Baby, why don’t we get you back to the motel so you can get some rest?” Like a child, Dean just nods his head in agreement, standing from the counter and making his way towards the exit.

“Did you pay?” Sam chimes in with the question as Dean passes him, the younger sibling now standing from his own stool.

“Oops, no. Right.” Myself and Sam make eye contact in that moment, both filled with concern for Dean. But for his sake, we say nothing, choosing to keep this between ourselves for the time being.

Once in the impala, it becomes clear that something is most definitely wrong with Dean. Starting with not putting the car into reverse, to forgetting the details of the current case. After a heated argument between the two brothers, it was settled upon that Sam would contact Rowena in the hopes of discovering the cause of Dean’s possible amnesia.

Back at the motel, Sam stays in the impala to call Rowena, away from the listening ears of his brother. The way that Dean wanders aimlessly from the parking lot to the building itself has me feeling uneasy. Even more so as I observe him approach the wrong room. Jogging over to him, I take him by the arm and swiftly guide him over to the correct door.

“All these dumps look the same.” Dean’s disgruntled demeanour would usually cause me to laugh, however, in this situation it’s not even close to cracking a smile.

“I know, baby. I know.” Tears are now threatening to spill as I open the motel room door. Clearing my throat, I advise Dean to go and take a shower to freshen up, then after get some well deserved sleep.

As soon as the bathroom door closes behind him, my façade breaks and the tears begin to fall. Putting on a brave face whilst watching the man I love slowly forgetting things that have occurred over the last few days, has taken a great toll on me. Like at Waldo’s, a wave of nausea hits me and it only forces me to bawl harder, sitting down on the unmade bed. Through the bathroom door, I can hear Dean undressing, his clothes hitting the cold linoleum floor. A moment of silence is followed by the wooden door opening a fraction.

“Hey, Y/N?” I hurriedly wipe the fallen tears from my face.

“Hmm?” There he stands in the open doorway of the rundown bathroom, torso bare, a nervous expression on his face.

“When,” he frowns before speaking again, “when did I get a tattoo?” Towards the end of his question he perks up, amusement clear in his tone. With his hands, he gestures to the anti-possession mark on his upper chest. At this, I can’t help the small smile that appears on my face, yet at the same time, it fills me with dread.

Standing from my place on the bed, I cross the room to stand in front of him, taking his face in my hands.

“It’s your anti-possession mark, Dean. That,” I take my right hand, placing my fingertips to the black ink marking his skin, “protects you from being possessed by a demon.” I refrain from bringing up the period in which Dean was a demon for a time. Glancing back to his face, I realise that he looks shocked.

“D-demons are real?” At his words, I can no longer stop the tears from tumbling down my cheeks. Again, I break down as I pull his body closer, holding him against me tightly.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“I know, it’s okay.”

“No matter what happens, I will always love you. I see the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking. That look of worry, concern, all of that. You’ve got nothing to worry about, everything’s going to work out fine.”

Dean’s hands are on my cheeks, his thumbs wiping away the tears. Placing a chaste kiss to my forehead, he again holds me tighter, whispering forever promises of his love.

It has only been a day and a half since Dean’s ‘amnesia’ began taking full force. Yet, I will trade anything to go back to yesterday. With the arrival of Rowena and the discovery that Dean was under a witch’s spell, things soon began to take a turn for the worst.

Awaking this morning to the sight of Dean twisting his wedding band around his finger takes the air out of my lungs. He sits on the opposite side of the motel room, the room that is scattered with sticky notes labelling a majority of the items within it. Long hours of research and tracking to find the witch responsible for this spell, had me falling asleep uncomfortably in the armchair by the door. Dean had occupied the bed, falling into a deep slumber by ten o’clock.

“Why do I have this?” My worst fears have finally come true and as Dean raises his head, my heart breaks completely in two. As usual, I cannot bring myself to lie to him or cause him to feel guilty.

“It’s, erm, it’s a wedding ring.” A scoff leaves his mouth as I swallow down the lump in my throat.

“Am I married?” Snapping my head up to look at him, he realises what he has said. “Am I married to you?”

Half-heartedly, I raise my left hand, indicating the two rings that situate themselves on my ring finger, trying with all my might to not cry again.

“Well, I’m glad it’s you. You’re beautiful.”

A smile is all I can bring to give him in return, instead I excuse myself and retreat to the bathroom, locking the door behind me. In the safety of the small tiled room, I cry until there is nothing left to cry.

Exiting the bathroom, I am met with the sight of Dean, Sam and Rowena, crowded at the door. Before I can ask what is happening, I am interrupted by Dean’s rough voice.

“Who’s this?”

And there it is.

Deciding that it would be best for Rowena to take care of Dean, with no close emotional attachment to him, I accompany Sam to deal with the witches. The agreement was that if Sam did not return within half an hour, I was to enter as back up. Hence me now sneaking my way through an open window on the ground floor of the house.

But with the thought of Dean’s safety and wellbeing on my mind, I am greatly distracted.

Although I have many years of experience with hunting witches, this coven is one of the strongest I have encountered yet, and I am unprepared. Proving true, when I come face to face with the female of the group. Before I can aim my gun, she has me spiralling across the room, into a wooden bookcase. My vision is blurry and my head feels heavy as I try and raise my gun in her direction. But it is becoming increasingly difficult to keep my eyes open. A final unsuccessful attempt of moving has me drained and I succumb to the darkness that is trying to overtake my vision and mind.

“Hey, Y/N?” Everything sounds far away as I come around. The feeling of someone’s hand on my cheek grounding me. “Y/N! Hey, can you hear me?”

“De?” That was definitely Dean’s voice.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Opening my eyes fully, I am met with the sight of a smiling Dean, although his eyes are filled with worry.

“You remember me?”

“Of course I remember you, how could I forget my beautiful wife?” A laugh escapes me alongside some tears, although this time happy tears.

“Don’t I always promise you, that no matter what, everything is going to be alright?” I nod in agreement. “And don’t I always promise you that I will always love you?”

“Yeah, Dean, you do.”

He pulls me into a hug, although the most uncomfortable hug in the current position in which we are situated.

“And I’m glad I’m married to you. You’re beautiful.”

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean x reader #winchester x reader #dean winchester imagine #dean imagine #supernatural imagine #requests are open #fanfic #supernatural #amandas 2k writer and reader challenge #challenge #2k writer + reader challenge #writer challenge #supernatural writing challenge

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apsaraqueen · 4 years ago

Note

For the ask: Love & Sleep. I started listing questions and then realised there were only 5 I missed out, so... ALL OF THE QUESTIONS PLEASE. I WANT TO KNOW ALL YOUR BRAIN THOUGHTS ABOUT LS.

1: What inspired you to write the fic this way?

There’s a lot of ways to interpret this question! In terms of substance, I wanted to write the kind of classic “the Shitennou come back” fic for Jadeite and Rei (my OTP, of course) that I’ve always wanted to read - something long and layered that deals with what happens after the initial shock, distrust, etc. of the return and delves into what the process of forgiveness and rediscovery might really look like. And to be clear, I’ve definitely read a lot of wonderful takes on this concept, it’s not new and so many other authors have done it better, but I haven’t found any that focused on my favorite couple (if there’s one I’ve missed, PLEASE SEND IT TO ME). And then stylistically, I just kind of wanted to write something...indulgent. For myself, really. Slow-paced, dreamy, gentle. I hope it hits the mark.

2: What scene did you first put down?

Boringly enough - the first scene! Where Jadeite, now called Junin, comes back, taking place on the grounds of the shrine. I had the image in my head for a long time before I started the fic.

3: What’s your favorite line of narration?

I...have no idea. It honestly changes all the time. I’ll just pick a random one I like. It’s of Rei watching Junin (the reincarnated Jadeite) sleep. Not creepy at all, right? I like the level of comfort between the two it implies, and it’s just a tender, quiet moment with her thinking of him, and of what draws her to him.

Junin slept on his back, one arm tucked under his nape, the other tossed across his front; the length of his legs extended several centimeters past the rumpled sheets’ edge. A book propped on his chest bore an English title that made little sense to her. She knelt by his head, suddenly concerned he might be feverish, or taken ill. He wasn’t sweating, nor ashen. The priestess touched his forehead and found the temperature not dissimilar to her own.

Under her palm his eyebrows bristled, permanently arched where hers ran like the ties of train tracks. She felt fine sun-lines there that she couldn’t see. Against her fingers his hair was dense, grown now slightly off the scalp, lightened more from working outdoors. She took back her hand, put it in her lap. From time to time it still startled her, to be able to look at him like this, unrationed. Even here at rest, she thought there was control in his features, a kind of ruthless calm she’d never been able to help responding to.

4: What’s your favorite line of dialogue?

This is really hard because I wouldn’t call this a dialogue-driven fic. Why, you ask? Because I can’t write dialogue to save my life. A lot of this fic - maybe even the majority - exists between the spaces of what’s said, so the dialogue is pretty.........formless. If I had to pick, I’d probably go with this.

“I killed you,” she said, and couldn’t help but add, “twice.”

“You were right,” he told her.

“And I didn't want to,” she went on dully. “When you came I – thought you were a ghost.”

“You wish I were?”

“I wish I didn’t remember. What we did.”

“Them,” said Junin. “Not us.”

She said, low: “I wish we’d done – anything else.”

I liked writing this because while I definitely think there’s a part of Rei struggling to forgive Junin for what his past self did, I also think there’s maybe even a larger part that wishes none of it happened at all, that their history could be erased and they could start fresh, that recognizes culpability is often complex and not as one-sided as you maybe want it to be (this of course depends on how you headcanon the Silver Millennium going down - I like to imagine it wasn’t necessarily all Shitennou=bad, Senshi=good).

5: What part was hardest to write?

Urg. Writing the first Silver Millennium flashback was pretty hard. It took me forever to figure out the right tone that didn’t sound horribly stilted and Lord of the Rings-esque. Also hard trying to convey the differences between Mars/Jadeite and Rei/Junin along with the similarities. Rei, for example, is a lot more wounded and careful with her emotions, for obvious reasons, than Mars ever was. And while Junin is still capable of being somewhat morally ambiguous, he’s also genuinely a nicer guy than the more politically-minded Jadeite could be. I wanted to get that across without getting mired in irrelevant details about the past……….which I maybe need to save for another longwinded fic altogether. *bangs head on wall*

After the first flashback things fell into line, more or less, but I must have rewritten that first one, like, ten times.

6: What makes this fic special or different from all your other fics?

It’s longer than 12,000 words! AND took me more than double that to get to any smut! In seriousness, I think this is the first multichaptered fic I’ve written since, like.............high school.

7: Where did the title come from?

From the poem of the same name by A.C. Swinburne. It’s quite sexy, and the woman described in it sounds very much like Rei to my mind.

8: Did any real people or events inspire any part of it?

Normally, with most of my fics, I’d say yes...but in this case, not really. Other than the food. I most definitely drew on real-life inspiration - delicious things I’ve eaten, particularly while in Tokyo - for the food. You’ll never find me writing a fic without some gratuitous food pr0n in there for good measure. The wagashi shop the girls meet at is based on one I visited while there, actually.

9: Were there any alternate versions of this fic?

Not really. You could say this is in some ways an alternate version of another fic I wrote a while back, Tragedia? When I wrote that one I had in the back of my mind that someday I should write the same concept with a very different ending...and here we are.

10: Why did you choose this pairing for this particular story?

Because I love them! And I feel like I rarely see them happy in fic (to be clear, I do love my RxJ angst, so that’s not a bad thing!). I wanted to write a story for them that felt realistic and for lack of a better word, adult - that progressed in a natural way. I wanted to challenge myself to do it in a way that was slow-burning and relatively low-drama but not boring. And I wanted to see if I could sustain the tension and intimacy that makes their relationship so interesting to write, without resorting to my usual go-tos of smut (at least not immediately!) and angst.

11: What do you like best about this fic?

I’m happy with the atmosphere it conveys - sometimes moody, mostly serene. I worked really hard on that aspect and I feel like it maybe, kind of, sort of paid off!

12: What do you like least about this fic?

I wish it was wittier, more humorous in some places - I feel like it would add a sense of balance. That’s my biggest failing as a writer, I think; I really have no clue how to do comedy. I am not funny in the slightest.

13: What music did you listen to, if any, to get in the mood for writing this story? Or if you didn’t listen to anything, what do you think readers should listen to to accompany us while reading?

I had just seen Call Me By Your Name when I started writing it, so a lot of the soundtrack for that. Mystery of Love in particular. Also a lot of Rhye.

14: Is there anything you wanted readers to learn from reading this fic?

Learn? No, I don’t think so. Just trying to put more of my OTP out in the world in hopes of inspiring more of it!

15: What did you learn from writing this fic?

So much. Like I’ve noted above, this is the longest thing I’ve written in a long time and honestly I’m kind of amazed I’ve been able to stay motivated! Writing something longer requires, obviously, patience - you can’t just fire all your guns at once, you think of things you want to write RIGHT AWAY but then have to save them for later, you have to actually, ugh, have a structure………….this is all patently clear to a competent writer, but these are things I was pretty sure I’d forgotten how to do, so it’s been nice stretching myself this way.

Thank you for the ask, @coppercrane2 - this was so fun!

#fic asks #jadeite x rei #rei x jadeite #mars x jadeite #jadeite x mars #hino rei #jadeite #senshi x shitennou #shitennou x senshi #sailor moon fanfiction

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fizzyxcustard · 5 years ago

Text

Under The Mistletoe.

Fandom: Real Person Fiction (Richard Armitage)

Summary: This is an amalgamation of an imagine and Christmas special idea rolled into one. My original imagine was "Imagine Richard admitting he loves you but you are adamant he’s joking and he winds up blowing up at you through your stubbornness and accusing him of being a liar." This was then requested by an anonymous reader for it to be turned into fic. So, when Richard finally has you under the mistletoe, do you believe that he truly loves you?

Pairings: Richard Armitage x fem!reader

Warnings: Angst, language

Word count: 1414

Comments/Notes: If you wish to be added to my tag lists for a particular fandom, character, or even everything, please send me an ask or a private message and I will add you. MERRY CHRISTMAS, EVERYONE! ;) Like always, this may just turn into a two-parter, which in this case I’ll probably write for New Year.

Music listened to whilst writing this: Two Steps From Hell personal playlist on iTunes.

Masterlist of fan fiction here

You stepped back into your flat, shutting all the cold air out, and you walked into the warmth and comfort. The day at work had been long, exhausting and at that point all you wanted to do was get into your pyjamas, make a mug of steaming hot chocolate and watch cheesy Christmas films. The very thought that you now had a week off for the holiday made you smile to yourself, and you had gotten through the festive work meal relatively unscathed. It had taken place at a local Chinese restaurant, and the majority of your co-workers had departed from the venue intoxicated, meaning that you had been designated taxi driver for three of them. The smell of vomit was still lingering from your back seat. Anthony, the one whose undigested meal had coated your car upholstery, had offered you money for a full valet, but you declined, not wanting to embarrass him further.

All of the drama from the last week was now over. The high demand in work, office gossip, employee secrets you had been asked to keep, and you could shut it all out.

Suddenly you remembered that Richard was due to come over. Your best friend of the last two years, a handsome actor who had come into your life by pure chance. How could you have forgotten that he was visiting? The headache of the day had caused you to tune out the one thing that made you happy: Richard. When life became overwhelming, and you found it hard to walk through all the stress and struggles, he was there. A comfort. An anchor. Your source of strength.

“Oh, shit!” you cursed, checking your clock. He would be due in ten minutes and you hadn’t even vacuumed, prepared any food or washed any of your dishes and utensils. You dashed around the flat, spraying air freshener in the areas that required it, and then lit a festive candle that smelled of apple and cinnamon. As for food, what on earth would you cook? You’d forgot to call into the local supermarket on your way home.

The door knocked.

You took a deep inhale, checked yourself over in the mirror and then walked to the front door. Behind the frosted glass you could see his outline and it brought a smile to your face.

Richard looked at you as you opened the door and grinned. Immediately he embraced you. “I’ve missed you,” he said softly.

“I’ve missed you, too,” you replied sheepishly. “Come in,” you ushered.

He looked around the flat, smiling at your love of Christmas. The living room had a large tree in one corner, covered in gold and red tinsel, with twinkling lights shining through the branches. A candle arch was perched in your front window, stockings were hanging on your wall, toy snowmen and reindeers were positioned either side of your gas fire. A thought hit him: he wanted to have been able to decorate with you. He imagined you both laughing, twisting tinsel around each other and singing along to festive songs and wearing Christmas jumpers.

“How have you been?” Richard asked, sitting down on your sofa. You sat down in the accompanying armchair opposite.

“Work has been so busy and I forgot you were coming, so I didn’t get any food from the supermarket on my way home. I’m really sorry,” you said, rubbing your temples for emphasis. “It’s not much of an excuse, I know.”

“Sweet, it’s absolutely fine. I know your job can be stressful. Do you want to go out somewhere?”

“Yeah, if you want,” you replied, faking enthusiasm.

“I can tell you don’t want to,” Richard said with a smirk. “You’ve had a long day. I won’t stay too long.”

“No, please. I’m sorry,” you said again, feeling ashamed and guilty. “Stay as long as you want to. You can stay the night if you want to as you’ve come a long way to see me.”

A couple of minutes later and you moved into the kitchen to make drinks for yourself and Richard. You had agreed to drive to the supermarket shortly afterwards and pick up some food. You would be eating late, but you both had plenty of time to enjoy each other’s company.

By now and your mood was starting to pick up; both of you shared in chit chat about your week. Richard wrinkled his nose and laughed at the story of your colleague spewing up in your car. “Oh, it’s gets even better,” you giggled. “The other two I dropped off, Mark and Julie, are having an affair so I dropped them both off at Mark’s house and Julie’s husband later found out about it. My work is full of constant drama, seriously. Affairs, back stabbing, stealing. There’s always something going on. I keep myself out of it all. It’s like the saying in Madagascar, ‘smile and wave, boys. Smile and wave.’”

“It’s the best thing you can do. Don’t comment so no one can pull you into their rubbish,” Richard replied.

You never noticed Richard messing with something in his pocket. He was smirking as he pinned the item in your kitchen doorway. Proud of himself, Richard turned back to you, thankful that you hadn’t seen what he was doing. “What’s this?” he asked, drawing your attention away from what you were doing.

“Mmm?” you replied, shifting to stand beside him in the doorway. He was pointing upwards. Your gaze turned up to see a small sprig of mistletoe hanging from the wooden doorway.

Before being able to comprehend what was happening, Richard’s lips were against yours. The kiss was soft, delicate and gradually heat began to seep into it, drawing your bodies together. Richard’s arms curled around you, pulling you gently against his larger frame. He tasted and smelled divine. Aftershave wafted up your nose, and you couldn’t help but grab his shift and pull. Your movements were becoming more passionate as your hands delved into more intimate places such as backsides and breasts. A huge stab of doubt shot through you, like a rod of ice. You pulled away.

Both of you were breathing hard.

Richard watched in surprise as you backed away, and he noticed the question in your eyes.

“I’ve wanted to tell you for so long,” he said, his voice quiet. “I’m…in love with you.”

A wave of excitement crashed through your stomach, but it was soon taken over by that doubt once more. “You’re joking,” you replied. “This is just one huge joke.”

“Why the fuck would I joke about something like this?” Richard snapped; he could see the defensive nature of your stance and expression. His face contorted in anger and offence at your accusations of dishonesty.

“You don’t love me so don’t try and fool me into believing it,” you said again. Years of insecurity and mockery had caused you to build a mental and emotional dam in attempts to block out all the negativity and potential threats. And in that process, your trust had withered. There was barely any trust left inside you; everyone’s motives must be questioned because more than likely they were not in your best interests.

Richard’s eyes grew wide and he leaned towards you, his teeth bared. “Don’t you daretell me I do and don’t feel,” he growled. “I’ve been there for you every time you’ve needed someone; when everyone else has let you down, you’ve come to me. So, why the fuck would I choose to make a mockery of you?”

“You’re the same as everyone else,” you spat. “You try and gain my trust and then walk away…”

“Oh, grow the fuck up!” Richard shouted. “Not everyone out there wants to hurt you. Least of all, me. We’ve confided in each other, helped each other, but now as soon as I try and look to showing my true feelings, you close down on me. You need to learn how to stop treating people like they’re your enemy.”

Every word that Richard was speaking was true. You could not dispute the facts. He was correct. But that constant fear of rejection and mockery was chewing its way out of your gut.

“You won’t believe me, will you?” he asked.

“No,” you replied, a tear falling down your cheek.

In a flash, Richard was gone. Your front door slammed and he left you standing motionless, staring up at the mistletoe whilst tears streamed down your cheeks.

***

Follow Forever tag list: @himoverflowers @shikin83 @theincaprincess @deepestfirefun @nowiloveandwilllove @houseofrahl @mynameisnoneya1991 @blankdblank @cd1242 @c-s-stars @thorins-magnificent-ass @patanghill17 @inumorph @leah-halliwell92 @msjava1972 @bespectacled-bunny @ghostlyandee @raindancer2004 @dottiechan @captain-almighty @hobbitlover23 @catthefearless @epicallychrissy @nelswp @adaliamalfoy @spn-obsession @armitageadoration @peneigh-dzredfohl @here2have-fun @greendragonette @thorinsraven @thophil2941btw @princessoferebor94 @banlaochranda @wilhelmyna @gabrieleaquaman @rachel1959 @serpensortia06 @rcrispina @kategorically-challenged @tigereyesf @jumpingmanatee @tschrist1 @inlovewithamantwicemyage @aspiringtranslator @princessofthefandomrealm @letsbeinspiredby @lilith15000 @lealina-scarsdale @scarsfanfictiontrash @mechromancing-cinnamon-roll @ra-of-light @jassy2101 @durinsqueen @hariclea @onewithleaf @michelem703 @bthtallmadge2 @mariannetora @valuedabovehoardedgold @tiredwritersworld @xxbyimm @miabee0706 @fuck-off-you-stupid-goat @legolaslovely @meganlpie @dashesofink @buckysalefty @reignofglitter

Richard Armitage tag list: @inkededucatednnerdy @birdkeeperklink @crazytxgradstudent

#Richard armitage #rpf #real person fiction #christmas special #kiss under the mistletoe #Richard Armitage x you #Richard Armitage x reader #Richard Armitage x fem!reader #angst #christmas

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heroesofhyrule · 6 years ago

Note

Okay since seeing the trailer for the new Zelda game, I’ve been really wanting to read some more really good BOTW fanfic. Do you have any suggestions where they have some length to them? Also fics where link and Zelda are raising a family??

Truth be told, I haven’t read many BotW fics, if any, but I’ll compile some here after some searching! There are quite a few here that seem interesting to me or had plenty of kudos.

Please check all of the tags and heed the warnings before starting a fic!

Super long fics (wc: 200k+)

The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild

T | Novelization | Slow Burn | wc: 473k | Complete

“But courage need not be remembered… for it is never forgotten.”Though struggling with both the loss of memory and the incredible weight of past failure, Link must find a way to recover what has been lost and bring hope back to the land of Hyrule.An epic fantasy-style novelization of Breath of the Wild.Complete, with afterword and deleted scenes!

Champions and Beasts

Hyrule is a strange place, is it not? It has no history, only legends. It has no true heroes, only colossi who have wielded its fate in their hands. The Champions, and the Beasts; the wise, the strong, and the brave. And yet, we are always either recovering from war or preparing for it. How much longer can we endure, I wonder? How much longer can we step through this dance?

In a world this vast, being a hero isn’t always easy.

Champions and Beasts is a Breath of the Wild series that takes a darker and more political look at the world of Hyrule, both before and after the Calamity. Legends are long past, history is mostly lost, the wilds are dangerous but perhaps not as dangerous as the ambitions of its inhabitants; and with Calamity either just over the horizon or still a lingering nightmare, the Hyruleans must fight to attain peace.

This work is centered around Link and Zelda, and their evolving relationship both before and after the Calamity.

Currently there are only two Parts planned (From the Ground Up and The Ballad’s Beginning) but I am considering a third installment!

One Last Year

T | Post-canon | wc: 215k | Complete

Zelda vows to help Link remember the events that lead them to their hard-won victory. In doing so, they must delve together into a shared past and seek to untangle their feelings, their grief and their youthful frustrations to find the things they could control… and the things they couldn’t.

“I don’t know how to remember. Time passes, but nothing comes to my mind… Except you. You’re the key,” Link said, softly. “You have to be.”

A Breath of the Wild fic about Link, Zelda, and the memories that bind them.

Ironic Technology

Ironic Technology is a series where Link loses an arm after a tricky situation with two Guardians, luckily, he is able to receive a prosthesis made of Ancient Technology from his Sheikah allies. He continues on to complete all of the Shrines, meeting his friends from the four nations along the way, before he’s finally ready to take on Ganon with his tech upgrade. Moves into slice of life events with Link and Zelda living together working through their issues with each others support. Very little angst, mostly positive fluff and humour with Zelink throughout.

(A/N Originally I wasn’t going to have DLC2 content but it was a good ancient tech expansion, so expect that in ‘Trial and Error’ which will be rated ’M’ folks!)

The Destiny Collection

A collection for the little BotW universe I’ve created.

Not all stories directly follow one another! At least one spin-off is to be expected.

Long Fics (wc: 100k-200k)

Adrift in Time and Skyward Bound

E | Explicit language and sexual content | wc: 132k | Last updated 11/10/18

Link is her appointed knight. He will do anything and everything to protect her. Always. All ways. BotW. ZeLink. Loosely based on the original storyline.

Love in a Time of Calamity

Zelda awakens her powers in time to defeat Ganon, but there are still major losses. With Central Hyrule in pieces, two champions dead, a king out of commission, and half a metropolitan city turned refugees, Zelda and Link struggle to come to grips with the aftermath of the Calamity. Though neither are prepared, they must nonetheless learn to navigate a turbulent political landscape while a snooping journalist, an overzealous artist, and a power-hungry nobleman’s machinations turn their already topsy-turvy world on its head. Though the Calamity has been defeated, recovery proves a battle all its own; and that’s not even considering the battle raging in both their hearts. BoTW ZeLink AU.

Trouble the Water

Rating varies | Series | Pre/During/Post-canon | wc: 156k | complete

Excerpt from the first entry:

An expansion of canon: a look at why the memories might have happened where and when they occurred (with one slight change in order) and an attempt to fill-in the events and conversations alluded to by diary entries and conversations in-game.“You were a comfort to her,” in particular, needed to be expanded upon, I thought.Begins shortly before the first journal entry in Zelda’s diary, and continues to the immediate aftermath of the last memory.First person: Zelda’s perspective

Still a bit long fics (wc: 50k-100k)

I’ll Walk With You

T | Post-canon | wc: 94k | Complete

‘The battle is over, the Calamity has ended, and everything you knew and loved is gone for good. And yeah, you can’t ever get it back, but… maybe we don’t have to. The path in front of us may be long and uncertain, but it leads to something new, and… Zelda, no matter how hard it gets, I’ll be right here. And I’ll walk with you.’

A collection of moments involving our favorite Hero and Princess as they struggle to adapt. Post-BotW.

It All Must Start With Us

M | Post-canon | Sexual tension/Implied sexual content | wc: 76k | last updated 09/06/19

Set immediately after BotW, this story explores Link and Zelda’s journey together to restore Hyrule. Along the way, a mysterious voice give them the task of reliving memories of a century before: some painful, but all necessary before they can fully move into the next step of their lives.

Since the DLC did not give us a post-Calamity world with Link and Zelda, I’m writing one for myself and anyone else wanting to know what might have happened after! ♪ UPDATES ON SUNDAYS!! ♪

The Golden Age

T | Slow burn | Post-canon | wc: 66k | Last updated 03/05/19

After a century of undisturbed silence, a forgotten princess emerges from the famous ruins of Hyrule Castle. Princess Zelda has returned, and an even greater task than containing Calamity Ganon arises before her; balancing a complex love life while rising her kingdom up from the ashes and restoring it to glory in an age of peace and prosperity.

Post Botw.

A Hundred Years in the Making

M | Pre-canon | Slow burn | wc: 65k | Last updated 05/20/19

The story before the story began. A hundred and one years before, to be exact.

star fragments

G | Post-canon | wc: 61k | Last updated 01/21/18

Being a princess is a life of sacrifice. After beginning their new journey to find their places and rediscover Hyrule after Calamity Ganon, Zelda begins to realize she’s missed out on several experiences her land has to offer. Fortunately for her, Link knows everything.

Rise

T | Canon compliant | Sexual tension | wc: 58k | Last updated 01/10/19

The chosen hero appears. The princess deals with it.

One way it all could have happened.

A Hylian Romance

T | Court poet | wc: 55k | Complete

As are many, I was intrigued by the Sheikah court poet and what his perspective on Link and Zelda’s relationship might be.

Fade to Black

E | Series | Pre-canon | wc: 55k | Complete

A collection of smutty “what could have happened after the memory faded” ficlets each tagged to a different BoTW memory. Every story contains varying degrees of canon alteration and canon divergence, but are for the most part in line with the BoTW universe as we know it.

General disclaimer:I do not advocate for underage drinking, unprotected or unsafe sex, or generally poor decision making. Be smart and safe in real life, y'all!

Okay fics (wc: 20k-50k)

Zelda’s Log

T | Post-canon | Domestic fluff | wc: 43k | Last updated 03/24/19

After defeating the Calamity, Zelda and Link embark on a journey: she wants to get acquainted with the new Hyrule, and find her place again in the world.

The World That We Lost

T | Post-canon | wc: 41k | Complete

After defeating Ganon, princess Zelda goes back to Hyrule, resolved to rebuild her kingdom and make it even greater than it was one hundred years ago. While she feels confident enough to face any challenge and confront any foe that stays on her way, a reality breaks her heart: Link remembers her, but not quite, and his new life has made changes in his personality that even the total recovery of his memories may not be able to revert.

Unconventional

In the wake of the victory over Calamity Ganon, Link and Zelda need time to heal and adjust. Unfortunately, with rising pressure for Zelda to rise into the role of Queen of Hyrule, they aren’t given much time. Couple that pressure with confusing feelings for the Champion of Hyrule, well, her life has never been simple.

A New Normal

M | Post-canon | Memory loss | wc: 30k | Complete

About two years after sealing away Calamity Ganon, Zelda comes down with the same mysterious illness that took her mother away. Purah and the other Sheikah work on revamping the Shrine of Resurrection, and manage to heal her in two years; but she is plagued by the same memory loss that Link went through. The two struggle in their relationship and responsibilities as they try to recover her memory and thrive in Hyrule as they know it.

What wouldn’t I do?

T | Pre-canon | Slow burn | wc: 30k | Last updated 03/10/19

Link is appointed Hylian Champion for saving princess Zelda’s life. She doesn’t seem very fond of him though. Despite his struggle to cope with carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, Link can’t help but wonder if he really is ready to give his life in order to save someone who doesn’t trust him.

Link’s Journal

T | Canon compliant | wc: 30k | Complete

Day 1

I’ve had a bit of a rough day. I don’t remember who I am, a girl keeps talking in my head, I’m supposed to slay Calamity Ganon, a blue bokoblin nearly beat me to death with a stick, and the old man still won’t give me his paraglider.

But, well, I’m still here, breathing and thinking and eating baked apples, so it could be worse. The old man (who is annoyingly enigmatic – I don’t know who I am, the least you could do is tell me who you are) showed me how to write in the Sheikah Slate. I want to keep a record of who I am, right now, because, well, I can’t remember who I was before. If I lose my memory again, this time I will be ready.

[What’s Happening: The author journaled her BotW play through. Every in-game night “Link” stops to write an entry in his journal.]

Observation Methods in Data Collection

I read somewhere that it was obvious that Zelda was falling for Link because she treated him like a science experiment, which allowed her to talk and think about him without really acknowledging that she had feelings for him. I loved this interpretation SO MUCH! So, here is my attempt at filling in some of those details.

On Propriety and Unconventional Avenues of Communication

T | Post- canon| wc: 21k | Complete

(Post BOTW.) In which Link develops a very curious habit and Zelda is confused.

Short fics / oneshots ( - 20k)

Forgotten Knight

M | Post-canon | Sexual Tension | wc: 15k | Complete

Zelda and Link have defeated the Calamity but Link did not regain his memory. They return to Hateno Village to heal and recover, and to not only get to know each other again, but to learn how to love each other again as well.

Risk of Burn

E | Post-canon | Explicit sexual content | wc: 15k | Complete

Three weeks after the fall of the Calamity, Zelda changes her mind.

The Joys of Photography

G | Post-canon | wc: 14k | Complete

The Sheikah Slate has the remarkable ability to capture and archive true to life images. Such a remarkable piece of ancient technology is not something that should be taken for granted. But that doesn’t mean that the Princess of Hyrule and her appointed Knight have to be so serious about every image they capture. The story of five pictures taken on the Sheikah slate.

Son of The Wild

T | Post-canon | Family fluff | wc: 13k | 05/16/19

Link and Zelda’s son reflects on his unusual upbringing.

practical anatomy

E | Post-canon | Explicit sexual content | wc: 12k | Complete

Is the Goddess still testing him? Has he not suffered enough in this lifetime? Was killing the Calamity not enough—now he has to explain morning wood to the Princess of Hyrule?

(in which Zelda discovers an unsavoury image on the Sheikah Slate and Link must face the consequences)

Soldier’s Log

T | Pre/post-canon | wc: 11k | Complete

The events leading up to the return of Calamity Ganon as well as life after his defeat as recorded in the pages of a journal belonging to a knight who would be king.

By the fire

T | Ficlet collection | wc: 11k | Complete

A collection of Zelink ficlets in the BOTW universe. Some ideas were developed for my main fic, “The World That We Lost”, but had to be scrapped because they didn’t fit anymore. Others are explorations of different canon formulas and timelines that said fic doesn’t touch, and some more could come from prompts (send me one, if you want!)

On the Life of Queen and Consort

Few know me. I was the Queen’s left hand and the Consort’s right. I was their first, best and last friend. But above all, I was their advisor, and now that my tenure has ended, it is time to write their story.

After 100 years apart, Link and Zelda finally unite to rebuild their Kingdom. Their reign together is long, with triumphs and heartbreaks as they navigate Royal life, raising children, conquering fears and growing old in a Kingdom beset by peace. Now at its end, their Chief Advisor Larella sits down to write the history of their reign, having beared witness to much of their lives.

Part of Zelink Week 2017 - this is a ten part series that looks into the partnership and later life of Link and Zelda as Queen and Consort of Hyrule.

#link-avalon #zelink #botw zelink #fanfiction

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soulangel · 5 years ago

Text

Fox in the House- Chapter 3

Summary: Rosy is trying to understand the house full of guys. Just like they’re trying to understand her. Yet as much as she wants to trust the people she now lives with, it’s still proving a challenge especially when they’re so touchy feely with her.

Group: Oneus x hybrid!character

Genre: fluff, domestic life, mild angst from the hybrid

Warnings: Just some mild angst thrown in and hints towards her past

Prev x Masterlist x Next

The next morning when she woke up, Rosy-ugh how she disliked that name-immediately noticed another set of clothing resting on the back of her door. “You can either wear this, or what is in your drawers today. Good morning by the way!” The note read.

She scowled and ripped the clothes off the hangar, changing into them quickly. She opened her mouth to scent the clothing and could smell the same, familiar smell of Ravn on them like yesterday. She tilted her head and wondered to herself why it was only his clothes she was wearing, but didn’t delve too far into it before opening her door and stepping out toward the living room. “Good morning Princess!” Keonhee shouted from across the room, grinning wide at her when she just glared daggers at him.

Hwanwoong hopped over to her with the energy of a 5 year old and handed her a cup of coffee before kissing her cheek in greeting. She immediately backed away from him and bared her teeth, hissing softly as her tail frizzed up and her ears flattened to the top of her head. “What was that.” She growled lowly, glancing around the room to see the rest of the group watching her in concern.

Hwanwoong just tilted his head and pouted. “I was just greeting you good morning….should I not do that?” He questioned gently, taking a step back so she didn’t feel cornered and start panicking.

Her tail swayed side to side in warning as she felt her pupils dilate and shrink quickly to match her sudden quick breathing. She was fighting the inner battle of fleeing into her room, pouncing on him, and having a panic attack all at once. She didn’t get very far when Hwanwoong was suddenly in her field of vision, crouched in front of her. Wait, when did she fall to the ground? Why were her eyes closed? Was this what panic felt like?

She could see his mouth moving but didn’t know what he was saying in the moment. She furrowed her brows in confusion and tried her best to read his lips, seeing him form the same mouth shapes over and over again. “-okay? Rosy! Are you okay?” She finally heard him ask loudly.

At coming back to her senses she cringed away from his loud voice and flattened her ears to her head, resting her arms over the top of them so her opposite hands were on each temple to hold down her ears. Her tail curled around her waist as her teeth were bared slightly at him. “P-Please don’t speak so loud.” She managed to get out through ground teeth, giving the smallest of pouts as she tried her hardest to keep her headache at bay.

Before she knew it, the rest of the group sat down on the couch or floor around her and quietly started singing to her, hoping to calm her down. She could feel the tip of her tail batting against her thigh and gave the tiniest of smiles, slowly removing her arms from her head and allowing her ears to perk back up to listen better. By the end of the song she was gently swaying back and forth to the imaginary beat the guys created so they each could stay on the same beat. Her eyes fluttered shut as she focused on their voices, her ruffled appearance changing to a more happy, content fox.

Xion scooted that much closer to her as her eyes opened once they finished, and held his hand out to her like he did the day before with the same smile on his face. “Good morning Noona.” He said softly, waiting patiently for her to either take his hand or ignore him.

She stared at the hand for a moment before she looked back up at his face, taking his hand in hers and shaking it slightly. “G-Good morning..” She mumbled just as softly, eyes flicking around to the rest of the group around her.

They quickly moved away from her to allow her some space to wake up on her own and brighten herself up mentally, leaving her alone with Xion who was smiling happily at the fact she touched him this time. “Want some breakfast? I’m sure we can find something for you….what would you like to eat? What are your preferences? Do you like fish or something? Is your tastebuds similar to that of a fox or do you have human taste buds?” He started listing off, unable to stop himself from asking all the questions at once without a break in between.

She stared at him for a moment, Ravn going so far as to start picking him up off the ground before she held out a hand and motioned for him to stay in place. Ravn waited for a moment or two, wondering if he’d need to help her or his maknae at any point before walking away to sit at the table and watch. Rosy on the other hand, smiled the tiniest amount and sighed quietly. “I’m okay right now with coffee, I’m not feeling too hungry. My preferences for eating are normally any sort of meats and berries. I don’t mind fish but I wouldn’t say it’s my favorite kind of food. The taste buds I have I would assume are human? I mean I am human...sort of….” She tried explaining before scrunching her nose at the end, her ears twitching to her thoughts running rampant in her head.

The maknae smiled at her and nodded his head. “I’ll see if we have something to cook for you! Maybe some…..rabbit pancakes?” He asked, getting an immediate stare from the fox-hybrid.

She jumped up from the floor and all but ran into the kitchen with Xion chasing after her, the two almost bumping into Hwanwoong who was stepping out with his own pancakes in hand. “Whoa!” He shouted as Rosy managed to stop Xion in his tracks and push his head down so the pancake plate slid over their heads while Hwanwoong twisted away from them.

A pure white flash danced along the bottom of the plate, balancing it perfectly so nothing fell off until Hwanwoong was able to stand back up straight and hold the plate close to him. As he was able to see the white disappearing, he glanced over to Rosy, her eyes changing from a silver-white back to her golden-yellow. “Wh-What just happened?” He asked softly, watching her in concern as she stood to her full height and gently picked Xion up from his crouched position.

She quickly checked him over in concern before looking over at Hwanwoong who was just gawking at the sudden turn of events. “Are you both okay? Are you hurt? Oh gosh I am so sorry that happened.” She gushed, patting down their clothes in a fuss.

Keonhee on the other hand, narrowed his eyes a little in confusion at what he just saw. “Was that magic?” He asked her when she was sated in making sure the maknaes were alright.

She froze and stared at Keonhee in a panic, wondering how she was going to get out of this situation before Leedo stepped up to her with a frown on his face, lifting his hand out to see if she’d run away from his touch. Her eyes widened and she backed away from him. “W-Wait, please don’t.” She mumbled, continuing to step backwards until she hit the wall.

Leedo stopped in front of her and sighed softly, frown still in place. “Was that magic that you did?” He asked her softly, trying not to freak her out yet still pushing to get answers from her.

She nodded her head with her own frown on her face, wondering why it was such a big deal to them. “Didn’t you know? Most hybrids have some sort of magic they’re adept at using. Foxes are adept in wind and illusionary magic.” She explained a little, making sure she was loud enough for the group in the living room to hear.

Leedo tilted his head in thought as he stepped further away from her and followed her back into the living room where she sat on the couch and beckoned everyone closer to her. Just as everyone was getting comfortable, Xion rushed out of the kitchen with a magical masterpiece of his own, setting it in the fox’s lap before sitting on the floor directly in front of her. “In thanks for saving me from a huge headache.” He said simply at the weird look he received from her.

So, off into the tale she went, explaining to everyone the magical capabilities of all the hybrids she’s met over the years and answering the boys questions as they seemed to spout one after another, never ending their thirst for understanding what she really was and how she lived the way she has for so long. “Wait, so you’re saying everyone has specific magic which matches the animal half of their biology? That is so cool!” Seoho shouted out with the largest grin on his face ever seen.

She smiled a little at the compliments the boys were giving her and grabbed a few strands of hair, hiding behind them in embarrassment as her tail flicked about excitedly, earning the boys’ attention once again. “Can I touch your tail?” Hwanwoong asked, going to touch it already.

She jumped away from him, tucking her tail against her stomach and holding onto it, glaring at him with a small growl. “Please don’t touch me. I hate being touched.” She hissed out, eyes flashing a brighter shade of yellow than before.

The group frowned and watched her flip over the back of the couch and land in a crouch, before standing up and stalking her way to her room. “I just...I need some time.” She sighed finally, stopping in front of her door for a moment and glancing back to the guys.

They just frowned as she stepped into the room. She took a large breath to calm herself and leaned back against the door, her head resting on it along with her back. All she could think about were flashbacks of a time long before she was stuck in the shelter.

xXx

While she was locked away in her room, Hwanwoong looked to the guys with a frown on his face, mirroring the looks everyone else had. “It’s only been a day. She’s already hissed at us multiple times, and she’s still very quiet, she hardly talks unless we practically force it out of her. What are we going to do?” Leedo asked in concern, frowning more while he crossed his arms over his chest in thought.

Ravn snapped his fingers and grinned. “There was a hybrid she was talking to before she left the adoption center, right Hwanwoong? What if we find someone we know to adopt them as well? Gunhak, your girlfriend was planning on looking into a hybrid adoption right? What kind of animal does she want?” He asked the rapper, getting a nod from the guy soon after.

Leedo thought about it for a second. “I think she was looking into a bird or something? I can’t remember. I’ll ask her if she’s still looking. Maybe that friend is just what Rosy needs to feel better around us.” He thought out loud, gaining nods from the rest of the group.

Keonhee had walked up to Rosy’s door and gently knocked on it a couple times. “Rosy, I know you probably don’t want to see any of us right now, but I just wanted you to know that we’re still here for you. I hope you know that. Please don’t be too mad at us. We’re just so curious about you and what you know, and all we want is to get to know you and be close to you like a family.” He told her through the door, resting his hand on it with a small pout since he knew she wouldn’t answer him no matter what he said.

Xion stopped at the door beside Keonhee and also rested a hand on the door, frowning at the thought of Rosy being in the room by herself possibly crying or just sulking in a corner. “Noona, please don’t shut us out. We want to help you. And you must want to be with us if you’re still as tolerant as you are now….I trust you.” He mumbled against the door, waiting a few seconds longer to see if that would get earn him any movement on the other side of the door.

The two in the hallway looked at each other with mirrored saddened expression and started walking away towards the living room where the rest of the group was waiting, just hanging around in boredom with nothing better to do for once. But just as they were about to sit down with everyone, a door quietly opened and a red blob slowly made its way toward them all, its head hung law. Rosy awkwardly and quietly stopped in front of them and grabbed her arm with her opposite hand, ears flattened to her head and tail dropped all the way down to the floor. “I’m sorry for the way I’ve been acting…..this is all just so new to me….I don’t know what to do, how to be. I’m afraid-I….nevermind. I’m just sorry, really.” She practically whimpered, refusing to look at any of them in her shame.

It was Seoho to walk up to her with a kind smile on his face. “So…..are you ready to go shopping or what?” He asked her simply, ignoring the surprised look on her face and keeping the grin on his for her.

She continued staring at him in surprise for a few more seconds before feeling her face breaking out in a tiny smile as well. “Y-You still are alright with me being here? A-And you are okay with me going shopping with you?” She asked, feeling her ears perk up quickly and her tail swish in happiness behind her.

The smiles on everyone’s faces made her heart swell for the first time in quite a while as she stared at each one of them. “Let’s get you some new clothes.” Ravn said softly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

For the first time since she’d been with the group, she leaned into the touch and smiled a little, her tail subconsciously wrapping around Ravn’s leg in her own way of showing affection. Maybe she could change if she stuck around them longer. Maybe she could finally be happy.

~~~~~~

Taglist: @kimgeonhak

#oneus #oneus au #oneus imagines #oneus scenarios #oneus x hybrid!reader #oneus ravn #oneus seoho #oneus leedo #oneus keonhee #oneus hwanwoong #oneus xion #waterfallsandrosebudsworks #Fox in the House #waterfallsandrosebuds: Fox in the House #waterfallsandrosebuds: oneus #chapter 3 #fox in the house chapter 3 #skye.works

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ilikecowsnstuff · 5 years ago

Link

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13436459/1/HATE-WITH-MOMENTS-OF-BLIND-AFFECTION

Hi there!

Novice writer, long time reader. I decided to give the fandom some love and write some trash Shigadabi fiction. Because why not, right? The first chapter is up, with a whole lot of to be continued… Rated M. Angst/Hurt/Comfort.

 Thanks for reading!  

===============

CHAPTER ONE - ACCIDENTAL ATTRACTION

Shigaraki Tomura tugged anxiously at the high collar of his UA gym uniform, scratching frantically at the skin below, but no matter how hard he clawed at himself, the oppressive material continued to bother him. He was uncomfortable, covered in a thick layer of grime and wanted nothing more than to strip down and wash away the remnants of what turned out to be a disaster period of partnered combat training at UA.

He sighed and shifted his gaze to the clock mounted on the wall in front of him, immediately one of his eyes began to twitch in unison with the steady ticking second hand. Usually the sound would not have irritated him, however, in the eerie silence of the empty infirmary that persistent click was amplified until it was the only thing he could focus on.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

“How annoying.” Shigaraki thought, and with indignation folded his arms roughly over his chest. A hiss of pain followed the movement causing him to lower his arms back down. He groaned as he swept the palm of his hand tenderly over his rib cage, trying to locate the source of the distress and growing angrier, and more frustrated in the process.

He shouldn’t have been there.

Sitting alone, battered and bruised with a possible broken rib and waiting on someone to come and heal him was not how the morning was supposed to go. Right about now, he was supposed to be basking in the afterglow of a victory! Instead, he had failed his very first exam at UA. And now his head hurt courtesy of the bump he had received from falling hard into the ground, making it difficult for him to concentrate on anything other than being batshit mad.

Where was Recovery Girl?

Just as Shigaraki was about to get up and go in search of some help, because sitting around doing nothing was driving him up the wall, the door to the infirmary swung open hard, with much more force than required. It bounced against the wall, creating a loud bang and worsening the already constant pounding in his temples.

A pair of vibrant blue eyes met Shigaraki’s petulant gaze.

Dabi.

“YOU!” Shigaraki growled, gritting his teeth.

That fucking zombie! It was all his fault that Shiagaraki had been injured in the first place, and why they had failed the test. Paired up in what was to be a graded teamwork challenge, Dabi, the egotistical jerk, had deviated from their pre-planned attack, and at the most critical point in the battle, leaving Shigaraki to clean up the mess.

He didn’t remember all the events leading up to the combat robot’s final demise as he was one-hundred percent certain that he had been knocked unconscious for a second or two when one of the damned monstrosities had knocked him aside using one of its powerful metal legs - like he was nothing more than an empty tin can. What he did remember was the pain. But regardless of the agony he felt when the robot’s heavy foot clamped down on him, Shigaraki had managed to secure his hand on the mechanical giant. One hand was all he needed. The metal foot disintegrated first, offering him some relief from the heavy pressure bearing down on his torso, and then the rest of the metal body crumbled away, raining down on Shigaraki’s battered body like a dusting of fresh snow.

Dabi remained on the outskirts of this event, standing and unscathed. So much for teamwork.

“GET OUT!” Shigaraki fumed, scratching wildly at his irritated neck.

“So belligerent,” Ignoring Shigaraki’s fumes, the taller boy offered his partner an impish grin as he casually crossed the room. He idled right up to the cot Shigaraki was sitting on until he was standing in his classmate’s personal space, looming, “Just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

That conceited asshole! Was Dabi taunting him? Shigaraki scowled but couldn’t help his face from lighting up with heat. Dabi’s presence was exceptionally commanding, and unavoidable, standing so close with his thighs pressed against Shiagraki’s bent legs.

“Bullshit,” Shigaraki spat back, livid. He abruptly turned his cheek to his so-called friend.

Dabi laughed, low and deep. “Okay. You got me,” He admitted, “I was sent to check up on you.” He pressed closer into Shigaraki, pushing his knees apart so he could get a better look at the injuries he had sustained. “Let me see your face, Mop Head.”

A sardonic chuckle left Shigaraki’s tightly closed lips, “I don’t think you understand the sheer amount of willpower it is taking for me to not punch you in the face right now. Go away before the thread holding my sanity together snaps. With just one touch, I will reduce you to a pile of ash!”

“Feisty,” Dabi returned, seemingly unphased by the other boy’s callous intent. His dominant personality wouldn’t allow him to withdraw so easily. Perilous or not, he liked things to go his way. He lifted his arm, and wrapped his fingers over Shigaraki’s chin, thumb brushing his jawline as he turned the other boys face slowly back towards him.

He narrowed his eyes.

Shigaraki’s bottom lip was busted open and bleeding, looking purple in the very centre were all the blood vessels were damaged. There was a darkening bruise on his cheek, and another along his jawline, and his left eye was starting to swell. He probably had other injuries too, things that Dabi couldn’t make out beneath Shigaraki’s clothes, even if the UA sports uniform was very fitted to his body. It was also flecked with blood.

“You look like shit.” Dabi proclaimed, still holding Shigaraki’s face in place, “More than usual.”

Shigaraki’s face grew warmer as his anger level shot up from 100 to 1000. It was almost if Dabi was baiting him to react. Violently. And to his own chagrin, it was working. Gritting his teeth again, Shigaraki lifted his own hand and reached towards his classmate’s neck with the intent to harm.

“Are you going to kill me?”

“Yes.”

Quickly, Dabi lowered his head until he felt the hot breath issuing from between Shiagaraki’s parted lips, “Not yet.” He whispered, and without any ounce of hesitation closed the remaining distance between them to press his mouth firmly down against his rivals. A kiss that had been a long time in the making, a kiss that he had been desiring.

Shigaraki gasped but those warm, soft lips didn't quell his anger. He slowly wrapped his hand around the smooth column of Dabi’s neck. One finger, two, three, and then four. His pinky lingered just above the surface of the skin, threatening to touch down at any moment.

A muffled, strangulated groan left Dabi’s mouth, like he enjoyed being on the edge of death, one finger away from the end of his existence. He tilted his head, delving deeper into the depths of Shigaraki’s mouth, seeking more contact.

Fuck! The power Shigaraki ultimately held over his classmate in that moment was thrilling! He would never admit to it, but the ultimate surrender of life which had Dabi leaving his fate hanging delicately in Shigaraki’s hand, turned him on.

But on the other hand, Shigaraki also absolutely hated how his body reacted to Dabi. It seemed so involuntary. The ultimate betrayal of himself. He couldn’t control the heat, nor the skipping beat of his heart, or that sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. And he didn’t understand why. By all accounts, he and Dabi did not get along, they were rivals, and were always butting heads or fighting with each other. Shigaraki would even go as far as saying that he did not really like that arrogant asshole and yet he couldn’t deny being attracted to him.

Of course, Dabi was not oblivious. He liked to toy with Shigaraki, and he was always the one to initiate their fragile and often violent encounters. It had been that way since they had both joined the Hero Course. Hate, with brief moments of blind affection.

That relationship did not seem like it was going to end any time soon.

Dabi pulled away from the kiss, but allowed his tongue to gently sweep Shigaraki’s lower, busted lip, the bleeding cut a reminder of the earlier incident. “Fucking disgusting,” He mumbled, licking over his own lips as the metallic tang of blood overwhelmed his sense of taste. But he went back in for more, stroking his tongue over Shigaraki’s lip once again with a slower, more tantalizing caress, clearing away the bloody red evidence.

Shigaraki curled his fingers against Dabi’s neck, blunt nails biting into the skin, “Try that again and I will really kill you.”

Dabi smirked and pulled his face away a fraction, “I should have stuck to the plan,” He admitted. And it sounded sincere too which threw Shigaraki for a loop. It wasn’t often that Dabi admitted that he had been the one to screw up.

It wasn’t much of an apology, but it was more than Shigaraki could expect.

“You think?” Shigaraki grumbled, agitated, and batted at the hand that still held firmly onto his face. The movement caused another hiss of pain to pass his pursed lips.

Dabi obliged to that small smack, carefully releasing Shigaraki’s chin, but remained in close proximity. “Break something?”

“How am I supposed to know?”

The corner of Dabi’s mouth kicked up into an audacious grin, “Want me to kiss it better?”

“Fuck off.”

Dabi chuckled, “Well, maybe you’ll be happy to know that I got chewed out by Mr. Aizawa.”

“Why would that make me happy?” Shigaraki returned, hugging his waist carefully.

“You want to hurt me?”

“That would make me happy.”

“Mmm,” Dabi leaned in a little closer once again, and Shigaraki immediately turned his head away, keeping his mouth out of kissing range. He wasn’t going to let himself get trapped by Dabi’s devilish lips once again.

“I want to tell you something.” Dabi confessed, warm breath tickling Shigaraki’s cheek.

Shigaraki tensed, squeezing his eyes shut so he would not be tempted by Dabi’s smooth, low toned voice. He could get through whatever the damn zombie boy had to say without another make out session and leave it at that.

“I just wanted you to know how much…”

Shigaraki wouldn’t get to find out what Dabi wanted him to know. A nurse had finally arrived, interrupting their exchange and swooping in on Shigaraki with an ice pack in one hand, a cup of water and two aspirin in the other.

He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed by the disruption.

#shigadabi #shigaraki x dabi #shigaraki #shigaraki tomura #dabi #my hero academia #mha #bnha #boku no hero academia #yaoi #fanfiction #mha fanfiction #my hero academy fanfiction #bnha fanfiction

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ctl-yuejie · 6 years ago

Text

My thoughts on the conflict between TangYi and ShaoFei, the tone of HIStory3:Trapped and how conflict and reveals get presented

Disclaimer: I love this show, I think the acting is great and I am very excited that the production team challenged itself with a more complex story than past HIStory seasons, upped the production quality and overall seemed to pour all the heart and hard work into this. Never forget that I love this show even though this might come off as very critical. Me nitpicking at a piece of media however doesn’t mean that I don’t like it (I seldom waste my breath on bad-mouthing something I didn’t enjoy unless it personally offended me), it only means that I enjoyed it so much that I spent hours thinking about the plot and the characters and generally had a lot of feelings.

- spoilers up until episode 16 -

Now that the show has only 4 episodes left to air I wanted to take some time to sort my thoughts and feelings.

Overall, I really do enjoy this show, especially the acting, the chemistry between Chris and Jake is stellar (not to leave out Andy and Kenny, I just don’t think I’ve seen enough of their story to comment too much on them yet) and the brilliantly written romance of TangYi and ShaoFei.

In the beginning the premise sounded tropey and fun and I didn’t expect them to seriously tackle the issue of a cop falling in love with a criminal because the trailer, while being action-packed, looked too light-hearted.

The show however took a surprising twist.

Sure, much of what happens is not realistic: the crime rate in Taiwan is famously low (we had one too many shootings and violent deaths on the show to match with the statistics) and I am pretty sure ShaoFei drawing his gun at TangYi every chance he gets in the beginning and not facing any backlash doesn’t comply with police protocol at all.

However, when they introduced the whole background story of TangYi I started to take the set-up more seriously. Prior to this I thought that I just had to suspend belief in order to enjoy the cop/gangster romance aspect of the show and to be able to ignore any ethical issues that might arise with such a dynamic. But introducing him as this young adult who’d grown up into a life of crime and no choosing of his own, who tried to cut ties with the criminal world because of a promise he gave to his foster father made me rethink the tone of the show and I started to believe that they would honestly tackle the ethical issues of the relationship between ShaoFei and TangYi.

Trying to live an honest and upright life doesn’t necessarily mean that you have to stop committing crimes on your way to achieve that goal (and I am pretty sure that HongYe setting up that business is textbook money laundering) but I liked to believe that revealing TangYi’s motivation would mean exactly that. Because this promised a challenge, suspense and a struggle worth watching.

Refraining from committing crimes and dismantling his organization while upholding his front as a stone-hearted mob boss would result in much more difficulties when interacting with gang members and trying to not get overpowered by enemies. TangYi would be too powerful otherwise. Most of the problems he has encountered on this show were connected to him trying to protect people that are dear to him, a task that is much more complicated to accomplish when you cannot resort to violence.

Additionally, I don’t think I could root for TangYi and ShaoFei as a couple if TangYi doesn’t try his best to not hurt other people. Not only because ShaoFei is a policeman, there are enough corrupt or misguided policemen around, but because ShaoFei is introduced to us as someone with strong convictions and an even stronger sense of justice and upholding the law. And to me it didn’t seem like his character arc was set-up for him to delve into a moral grey-area or even to switch sides with TangYi. I thought that his journey would be to fall for TangYi and accept that not everyone is necessarily entirely good or evil and having to grapple with his senior being not the person he thought she was. This does fit in with the latest revelations that the police chief with whom he has a kind of father-son relationship is indeed not the good person we thought he was.

I have no idea how ShaoFei could deal with the idea of TangYi being capable of hurting people when it isn’t done in self-defense and if there are other, albeit more difficult, ways in which he could’ve taken action.

Especially because in the reality this show creates the problems a cop/gangster relationship entails don’t get entirely glossed over. Yu Qi reminds ShaoFei in the hospital that him and TangYi cannot be together, not because they’re both men, but because of their professions. (To be honest the only real beef I might have with this show so far was the weird “love is love” analogy that they freely applied to a gangster/cop relationship. I don’t think it was in any way intentional but reversing that thought might lead the viewer to the conclusion that you are either born into a certain profession or you can choose your sexuality...which is definitely not what the show wants us to think, I hope.) Even earlier on ShaoFei denies that he could have developed feelings for TangYi on the basis that they’re playing on opposite teams. So we have to assume that the show acknowledges the ethical problems of this romance in general but somehow conveniently forgets about this conflict when it should have an impact on the characters behavior. This is especially bizarre because the only function of those scenes then is to act as a tool to not make as forget how cold and ruthless TangYi can be. Because he is a gangster boss.

After revealing TangYi’s backstory on the mountain top I got more excited about the show because I thought I’d understood in which direction they wanted to take the main romantic plot and what kind of tone they wanted to set. The show would be slightly more serious and solemn than I anticipated but I welcomed that approach because it would make for an interesting show while not excluding any possible humour.

However, immediately in the next episode I had to start and rethink my assumptions. By now the low respect for rules on the police’s site and dilettante approach to their job started to stand out, however I was willing to not head those details that much attention because most tv series, even mainstream crime shows, mess up the actual technicalities of the jobs they’re trying to portray. ShaoFei’s fever dream on the mountain however took the disconnect with the previous episode a little bit further. The scene overall did fit in with the humour of the show but the way it was acted out and shot didn’t make it look like an organic part of the rest of the series. However, the scene just left me with a small nagging feeling and wasn’t anything that really bugged me.

My feelings for the show however got tested a bit when TangYi beat up that henchman. I was so convinced that the main conflict of the show would be TangYi trying to maintain is image as a gangster so his gang wouldn’t find out that he is trying to dissolve the organization while having to abstain from using any violence. Something that is made even more difficult by the police getting involved and the mystery from 4 years ago looming over him.

I truly believed that TangYi being left alone in that room would turn out to be a ruse to shake up Ah De (whom, as we later find out, he was already suspicious of). It also made me hope that Wang Kun Chen might have not actually died but that his death was faked in order to go after both the criminals and any corrupt policemen (I will come back to his death later on). But afterwards in a talk with Jack it gets confirmed that TangYi indeed beat up the henchman. This course of action didn’t surprise me that much but to be honest I was just disappointed with how straight-forward and unexcitingly TangYi dealt with Ah De and possibly some other close people going behind his back.

The intention of the set-up with Old Tang’s wish was only based on my assumptions so I can’t really feel that let down by it, but TangYi beating up that henchman threw me because I thought we were supposed to read more into Old Tang’s request and conclude that TangYi would have to live through a constant internal struggle.

In general, I don’t mind when unrealistic things happen in a series, however there has to be an internal set of rules that gets followed and scenes and characters have to make sense within the reality the showrunners created.

To me it is curious that TangYi doesn’t think that he has to adjust how he acts in order to disentangle himself from a life of crime in some scenes but in other scenes suddenly cannot take action in a certain way because of the same reason (mostly when it becomes urgent to eliminate direct threats). It is always up to ShaoFei to actively stop him from committing crimes and we never see an internal struggle. Sure, the task got imposed on him by Old Tang and TangYi doesn’t seem to be propelled by intrinsic motives but due to his emotional connection to Old Tang I’d have thought that he would really have to constantly struggle mentally and physically to refrain himself from using violence.

That does, in no way, mean that I wanted this show to be less dark. I think there’s still a lot of room for even more cruelty and angst even if the main character tries his best not to use violence. The whole set-up is very sad, the element of corruption could also lead to emotional distress at how hopeless ShaoFei’s investigation is, drug trafficking in particular comes with many victims, the betrayal inside the gang and every parental figure in this show either not living up to expectations or being outright abusive are also heavy subjects they could lean into even more. Heck, ShaoFei’s whole investigation and the police’s involvement raise the stakes because there is the possibility of capital punishment for drug offenses in Taiwan. We also have to deal with the fact that TangYi most definitely committed heinous acts in the past, the same might go for Jack. All in all, there are still many options left to make this show even more grim and bleak.

In the end it is up to the writers how they want to spin TangFei’s romance but to me it seemed like they were laying the ground for a different approach to the story then what actually played out. While I am not mad at this show (as I said before this is me nitpicking at a series that I highly enjoy) at this point I don’t know whether I can trust the hints I pick up because I don’t know if it was the intention of the writers to built-up a storyline or if what they did was totally arbitrary, or if they indeed simply forgot what they established in earlier scenes (this is where I had my problems with Hong Ye’s attack on ShaoFei and Ah De’s assault of TangYi. HongYe was introduced as more intelligent than that planned attack was and Ah De’s premeditated assault didn’t fit with his goals and the way he crossed the line earlier on).

This back and forth on characterizations, storylines and tone does confuse me quite a bit and is the only thing so far that made the show fall slightly short of what they could’ve accomplished with more consistent writing.

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

Which leads me to how the show is dealing with its reveals. So far, we have the mystery from 4 years ago that still needs solving, TangYi’s real parents’ identity which got revealed in episode 16, Ah De not only being in love with TangYi but selling drugs behind his back, Jack’s identity and real motivation, who really killed Wang Kun Chen, Ah Zi being up to no good and finally the police chief being dirty.

I enjoyed/am enjoying all of these plot-twists, some were more obvious than others but again, the writing of how these things unravel or got revealed is very inconsistent.

I will start with our mystery men. The reveal I enjoyed the most was the police chief being a dirty cop. It pretty much came out of nowhere but now a lot of his actions do make much more sense, especially how he didn’t give much support to ShaoFei and how he was mocking about with his work which I initially wrote off as missing motivation instead of passive sabotage. It also gives us enough room to guess his motivations and to whatever conclusion we might come to, it fits perfectly into the story so far. He might have needed money, or averting his eyes might have led to bigger consequences than he expected, now he is scared to lose his job because his daughter is marrying, or he worked too long in the force so he decided to side with what he felt was the most harmless kind of corruption to be able to focus on the big fish. What is important is that regardless of his motivation his past behavior fits with the reveal and added excitement to the show (to behonest at the moment I kind of lost interest in what happened 4 years ago because it is both obvious and confusing at the same time). Ah Zi was an okay reveal and the general topic of corruption in the work force and presumably good characters turning out grey or bad is pretty interesting but how his identity got revealed with those taunting shots of a man in a jacket were somewhat lackluster. They only spanned over two episodes before the reveal and were pretty on the nose. I would have loved it if they’d built-up his betrayal over more episodes with secretive shots of money and drugs exchanging hands where we couldn’t be sure if we were just shown the inner workings of TangYi’s gang or outsiders trying to get their hands on some extra cash.

Again, two similar reveals came about very differently and with a different kind of depth and detail to attention as well as being tied into the show organically and not so much.

This change in style doesn’t do much good in my opinion. Jack remains much of a mystery even though we need at least some hints in order to root for him and ZhaoZi. Instead their scenes are sweet but not that telling and they never just appear in the background to tie in their romance at all times. There were missed opportunities and many scenes that they could’ve been in finished without them and we went two whole episodes without them. Hong Ye and DaoYi had the big advantage to be present in many of the main couples’ scenes so their romance felt very well written and satisfying. I wish they’d spend even more time and attention to detail on Jack and ZhaoZi because with the added mystery element to Jack’s persona I really need more to get emotionally involved.

Again, I am confused as to how deep the show wants us to analyze its characters’ actions and how tricky the story really is. Ah De selling drugs behind TangYi’s back was mentioned only in a throw-away line and we are to believe that TangYi wouldn’t act more guarded or cautious around Ah De? Are we supposed to question that Jack killed Wang Kun Chen? If so, why was TangYi supposed to get fraimed for his death when it was a set-up by possibly the police? If it was as straight-forward as it’s presented I have my problems with rooting for TangYi/ShaoFei and ZhaoZi/Jack because it would be the first kill since the start of the show and setting up TangYi and Jack as unredeemable in ZhaoZI’s and ShaoFei’s eyes (see my huge paragraph about violence above). If we are supposed to scrutinize the show on the same intricate level as the police chief’s betrayal, some of the other reveals fall flat and are just not on the same engaging level.

The same goes for the messaging: are we to believe that Ah De’s actions were despicable? Wouldn’t we have to apply the same rules to Jack kissing ZhaoZi?

Overall I wish this series was written more tight-knitted, intricate and consistent in tone and message. Because I believe that this otherwise very entertaining story could’ve only benefitted from that.

#history3圈套 #history3: trapped #history 3: trapped #ctlyuejie writes #ctlyuejie rants #longpost

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cchellacat · 6 years ago

Note

Bucky/Darcy angst. "I'm not sorry you're in love with me." Smutty if you want with a bitter sweet ending.

Smut 18+

Bucky/Darcy

“I’m in love with you. There I said it.”

Darcy froze, her hand holding the knife in mid air beforeshe slammed it down on the counter and turned to the man standing in thekitchen doorway.

“What do you mean you’re in love with me?” She demanded, her voice was unnaturally highat this sudden declaration.

Bucky brought one hand up to rub the back of him neckuneasily, before stepping in the room properly.

“Just what it sounds like. I woke up one morning and there you were, carving my heart out with aspoon and eating it for breakfast.”

Darcy glared, this could not be happening right now. Three years. Three years she had waited for him to notice her and now, a week beforeshe’d been due to walk down the isle is when he pulls this on her? She takes a breath and tries to calm herracing heart.

“I don’t know how to respond to that.” It’s true, she has no frigging idea what she’smeant to say or do right now. They werefriends. Had been friends since Stevehad dragged him back here, barley functioning as a human being after what Hydrahad done. She’d taken a liking to him immediately,had poured herself into helping him any way she could, her grandmothers’ storiesof the Howling Commando who had carried her from a concentration camp, toodeeply ingrained in her mind to do anything less then help this man who hadmade her life possible.

His posture was bowed, he looked like he’d wished he’d saidnothing. Part of her wished he hadn’t.

“It is what it is. Sorry.”

He walks back toward the door, hair hanging in his face. Head bent in defeat? Sorrow? Remorse? A collection of allthree? Darcy doesn’t know but in thatmoment she couldn’t let him go either.

“No.” Her voice islaced with anger as it carries strongly through the space between then, it’smore than a statement, it’s a challenge. He stops mid stride, the lines of him pulling together, as though hersimple word in response had given him strength or hope. Tension spills through the room, both of themon edge and daring the other to look away.

Bucky locked eyes with her, twin blue gazes sparking coldfire and heated feeling.

“No what? Don’t loveyou? It’s a little late, tried giving itup, but you’re stuck in all the spaces now, you’re like superglue, you’veplugging up all the missing bits and made me whole, can’t carve you out doll.”

Darcy almost took a step back from the vehemence in histone. This wasn’t her fault, she hadn’tset out to make him love her, certainly not in the way he was implying.

She had waited for two years for something, anything tohappen between them and when it hadn’t happened as she hoped, she had done thesmart thing, she’d moved on, found someone else. And fine, maybe the guy she was meant to be marryingwasn’t the one she’s in love with, but he was a good man, kind and sweet and herespected her.

Which is why she’d ended it the week before. Given him the ring back and asked him to moveout. How could she marry him when theman she really wanted lived just down the hall? When the man she really wanted was his bestfriend. She should feel guilty, she thinks absently,that all she wants it to have Bucky fuck her right now, burn his presence intoher soul so thoroughly that the two of them are linked to the otherforever. She should feel ashamed that she aches for himand another man suffered because she couldn’t move on. Unfortunately, none of that mattered to herwith the way Bucky was looking at her. Shewas caught between fury and longing. It wasas unpleasant an emotional state as it sounded.

“Not no to loving you, youidiot. It was no, don’t be sorry. I’m not.”

As she spoke the words, she knew she meant them. Each syllable loaded with need and anguish. Even if it tipped her world upside down andbroke someone else’s heart, she wasn’t going to take them back. Darcy’s voice didn’t waver, her posturechanged, shoulders back, defying him to contradict her. She wasn’t going to let him run from this,not now he’d said it.

Bucky’s face wrinkled in confusion at her words. What was she saying?

“You’re not what?” Heasks, wanting, needing her to say what he thinks she’s saying.

“I’m not sorry you’re in love with me.”

He sucks in a breath then, she’s looking at him like she’swaiting for something. Like she’s notsure this is happening and all he wants is to take her in his arms.

“Why?” He asksinstead, drawing closer to her, only a few feet between them now. His eyes pick up everything this close, the faintlaugh lines around her eyes, the thickness of sooty lashes framing eyes so big andblue he thinks he could drown in them. Hereyes have always drawn him in. They’reso expressive, everything she thinks on display for the world t see, open andhonest. She doesn’t hide who she is, shecan’t. The truth is he knew why. He’d always known. He just needed her to say it, out loud. Because he needed to hear her, needed herpermission to do this, cross every line he swore he wouldn’t.

“Are you really that dense? Jesus Christ Bucky, I’m… oh for fuckssake. You own me, you massive dick bag. I’ve been in love with you for years. Do you have any idea what it’s been like watching you go throughrelationship after relationship and every damn time, it’s my door you turn upat when it’s all over, and now you fucking tell me that you love me? I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Damn it.”

She tries hard to keep her voice steady and fails at thelast. Tears welling up and spilling downflushed cheeks.

“Hey, don’t you cry doll. I’m sorry, I’m an idiot.”

“Why now, Bucky? Whatchanged? I don’t understand.”

He was standing right in front of her, he brought both handsup to cup her face, his thumbs trying to smooth away the tears. He didn’t know how to explain it to her, howto tell her how much time he’d spent trying to figure out what the right thingto do was. How could he say the thingshe should when he knew it would only hurt her more?

“I’m no good for you, Doll. But I want you so bad it’s killing me. I want you, I want us. Shit, I’vewanted you for so long I don’t know any other way to be anymore.”

She gripped his wrists in her hands, nails digging into hisflesh, refusing to let go.

“I don’t give a fuck what you think is good for me. You are what I want. I don’t know how to stop wanting you… loving you. That is never going to change forme.”

“But-“

“No. No buts. Noexcuses. You came in here and you madeit real. You don’t get to do that andwalk away.”

“It’s gonna break his heart.”

He’s right, she knows he’s right and it hurts. But loving him, needing him, her body cravinghis touch, it hurts so much more that she’s willing to face the consequences ofthe fall out if he’s standing by her side.

“It already did, he just doesn’t know why.”

She reaches for his cheek, wiping away the tears that havegathered at the corner of his eye.

“Bucky… please…”

He’s not sure what brings down the last of his resistance,or even if it had been there at all. Butthe way she pleads so pretty, the way he knows she wants him just as much as hewants her. He gives in.

There’s nothing romantic about it, nothing soft. Clothes are shed quickly, mouths searchingand biting, kisses exchanged. He liftsher onto the kitchen table, pulling her panties down, his fingers delving intoher slick folds. She whines and bucksher hips, chanting his name between begging and cursing. All he can see and feel and smell is her,intoxicating him.

She doesn’t hold back, her hands wander, touching, stroking,all the things she’s imagined and more as she reels from the feeling of his hotskin, pressing against her. She findshis cock, hard and thick, grasps him firmly in her hand and strokes him,finding the right grip, the right pressure by listening to the way his breathcatches. Pre-cum slides under herfingers, making the drag of her skin against his easier. She welcomes him between her legs, her feetdigging into the back of his thighs, pulling him closer till he bats her handsaway and uses his own to guide himself to her entrance.

When he pushes into her, she shudders, biting down the needto cry out. He feels so good, makingslow shallow thrusts that ease her open as he grips her ass, metal fingers,leaving prints in her pale skin. She knowsit will bruise but she doesn’t care.

Whenhe’s finally sheathed himself in her he stops and kisses her slowly, tonguetracing her lips, demanding entrance. Herhead spins and she gasps as he presses into her, angling her hips so he slidesdeeper and his tongue licks into her mouth, both of then moaning in unison. Then it’s like a damn breaking, he takes herhard, his cock driving into her over and over as he hold her steady, kissing apath down her neck and mumbling praise into her skin.

Darcy clutches him, holding on tightly to hisshoulders, her pussy already rippling around him, she feels the orgasm ripthrough her, his name shouted out as he fucks her through it. Every inch of her skin tingles and sparks asshe cums. Tears spring up at the cornersof her eyes as he thrusts, her heart beating wildly in her chest, his namecolouring the air around them.

“Darcy, Doll, fuck,baby, I love you, I love you…” hewhispers the words into her ear, their bodies flush as he pulls her evencloser, drives even deeper. Her legslock around him and she tells him she loves him too. The cool slide of his metal hand as he reachesbetween them, finding her clit and pressing small circles over it has herpanting and begging again even as she feels the world recede and the coil ofpleasure ignites in her core once again, but it feels like to much even as ittightens and pulls.

“Bucky… please… I can’t…”

“Cum for me one more time Doll, cum for me sweetheart, needto feel you do that again… please cum for me baby doll.. Cum with me…”

The way he pleads hasher sobbing into his shoulder even as she feels herself fall apart, the mostintense orgasm sweeping out and up and through her, walls contracting like avice around him as she lets go with a cry of his name, half whispered I love yousbreathed out from kiss swollen lips.

When he cums she feels his whole body tense above hers andthen he shouts her name, hips stuttering as he thrust erratically, warmth pouringinto her as she feels him twitch inside her before he buries himself deep, his backarching, their bodies so close they might have been one person. It feels like heaven. No him and her, or you and I, just them,together at last.

Darcy presses kissing along his jaw as he pants, his armswound tightly around her, as though he may never let her go.

“I’m never leaving you.” He tells her quietly, his lips brushing softly at hers, the kiss apromise.

“I don’t want you too.”

He nods, kissing her again as they try to catch theirbreath.

It was going to be messy, telling everyone they weretogether, but it would be worth it. Butfirst, just for a little while, they could stay here, in her apartment and letthe world forget them for just a little while.

@the-ss-horniest-book-club

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batgirl-87 · 6 years ago

Text

Your Jacob Character

I was tagged in @hufflepunk-asfrick ‘s Jacob challenge by @cptaincarswell and @dahlwyn - I am so excited to do this! I saw this going around and really wanted to be tagged so thank you so much!

I tag @arnyan @wilhelminafujita (I’ll leave you to tag blueroses 😉) @missnight0wl and @gryffinpuffthunderbird if you haven’t already and want to and anyone else who wants to because this is so much fun!

Rules:

Make a collage of characters that summarize your version of Jacob (Okay so I followed cptain’s way because there were certain quotes and gifs I thought captured my view of Jacob in addition to making a photo collage because I’m an overachiever [or just bored] - Also, I mainly focused on big brother characters and sibling relationships because that’s how I view my Jacob, he’s the big brother! So really it’s just a lot of big brother characters =p)

Alec Lightwood - Shadowhunters

Besides being a great face claim for my Jacob, but with different eye colour, I also think the relationship between Alec and Isabelle is a great representative for my Jacob and MC.

Brave, caring, compassionate, and protective older brother. His more quiet and stoic, somewhat withdrawn, demeanor may intimidate others, especially when he can be a bit distrustful towards others, and cause them believe he’s “too cool” for them but honestly he’s very humble and possibly even insecure. He also is caring and even affectionate towards those close to him, quite observant to when something is bothering them and will do whatever he can to be there for them. Sarcastic especially towards those he does not like, unable to hide his dislike for others. And clearly Alec has to be physically fit and athletic, as is Jacob since he has goals of playing Quidditch professionally and is quite the Keeper 😉 (noted since some of these other character representatives are not all that athletic =p)

Mainly it’s about his relationship with his sister, Isabelle. Fiercely protective over those he cares about and loyal to them, particularly his sister. He assumes responsibility as the eldest as serves as a protector and healer while having no second thoughts or hesitation of putting himself in danger to keep them safe. He and his sister are very close, both always watching out for the other. He watches out for her safety and she concerned over his emotional well-being (especially because he seems to internalize a lot and never really talk about it). If one is suffering, physically or emotionally, the other is also greatly affected by it.

It’s not her fight, or his fight, it’s their fight - they have each other’s backs, they’re there for each other, they’re partners - it’s them against the world because they’re really all each other has especially after their mum’s death and their father’s side of the family wanting nothing to do with them. But together they can face anything. And yeah he can be a badass and will punch someone in the face especially for his sister.

And in the sync eye roll - classic Jacob and Keira =p Often sharing looks and knowing exactly what the other is thinking and it may normally be shady about someone else in the room =p They may love teasing each other but they love joining forces to judge others more =p

Sebastian Hastings - She’s The Man

Brother who takes off to follow his dreams and leaves his sister to deal with the responsibilities he left behind... sound familiar? =p

While that is true, I like this quote from him because I feel like this is something Jacob tries to consistently get across to his little sister - follow your dreams no matter what, even if you have to break some rules.

Plus he’s musical like my Jacob, who plays guitar and can sing, but while Sebastian may not be the greatest soccer player, Jacob is a great Quidditch Keeper with goals to play professionally.

However, would Jacob strip off his pants in the middle of a game to prove he is who he says he is? Yeah, he would. And the immediately realize there’s a whole audience of people watching and probably turn completely red and quickly pull his pants back up but he still wouldn’t run off in embarrassment and act cool and stick around like Sebastian who remains “Present!” even after exposing himself to everyone =p Because Jacob truly is pretty chill and doesn’t let much faze him and he’s able to laugh at himself.

Taichi “Tai” Kamiya - Digimon

This is it. Everyone else can go home =p

UGH THE NOSTALGIC FEELS!!!!

I will somehow refrain from delving into my nostalgic emotions and do my best to focus on the task at hand -

Tai for me has always been big brother goals and I love his relationship with Kari (who, yes is my fav) - when she got super sick OMG

Classic older brother sometimes gets annoyed with his little sister and puts his wants and desires over her health (we’re playing soccer even if you don’t feel well suck it up! =p - oh look, an athletic older brother! - Seriously though, Jacob probably would make Keira help him practice for Quidditch even if she wasn’t feeling well and then if she got horribly sick and had to go to the hospital he would feel terrible!)

BUT he loves his sister probably more than anything and anyone and is super protective, especially after almost killing her - he felt awful about doing that and Jacob better feel awful about putting his sister through all this Vault drama.

Also when they’re little adorable (SO CUTE) and he’s always taking care of her, making her dinner because they’re parents are busy - Jacob did primarily take care of her - they took care of each other - especially after their mom died despite having guardians to take care of them. And then they embark on adventures together! =p He’s brave, he’s a leader, he’s also a bit of a dork but he’ll do whatever he needs to protect those he cares about. (seriously I can’t get into it a lot or I’ll cry from all the feels!)

Max Dennison - Hocus Pocus

Somewhat dramatic Jacob moment above =p

Other older brother goals? Bickering and teasing older brother and little sister but they love each other and when she is in danger her brother does anything to keep her safe. And another sibling adventure! Plus, he may try to act cool (nah, it’s all just hocus pocus, why believe in this legend... but I’m still going to go along anyway! Probably also how he dealt with the Vaults, pretended to doubt their existence to be ‘cool’ but what if they are real!? Could be... should check it out...just to be sure!) but he’s really a dork and probably humiliates himself a lot... Fortunately Jacob has a good sense of humor and can laugh at himself. Also can he be bit of a dramatic little shit? Yes, yes he can.

Dwayne Hoover - Little Miss Sunshine

My favorite character in this movie...

Dwayne is very determined and focused on his goals, as is Jacob. I mean taking a vow of silence to show how disciplined he is and how determined and focused he is on his goals - like Jacob making sacrifices for his determination concerning the Vaults.

In also classic teenage angst-ness, Dwayne hates his family and wants nothing to do with them; with Jacob and Keira’s tense relationship with the Black side of the family Jacob has very much the same attitude - he’s going to do what he wants, fuck them, and they can just leave him alone, he wants nothing to do with them. He takes the Black last name because he’s done being a “shameful secret” to them but that doesn’t mean he wants to be a part of this family and be embraced by them - he couldn’t care less about them. It’s more out of spite.

Despite all this, Dwayne also loved his little sister and was supportive of her. She was also the only one who managed to calm him down and ground him after he realized his colour blindness (also my Jacob is red/green colourblind!). Dwayne bestows some wisdom to his sister much like Jacob would about not caring about what others think, playing into bs beauty standards when life is one big beauty pageant, just be yourself, do what you love, and fuck the rest.

And again, can he be a bit of a dramatic little shit? Yes, we’re Blacks, we are very dramatic =p Going from this chill, apathetic, ‘whatever, I don’t care’ demeanor to suddenly freaking out in a dramatic rage - classic Jacob =p While he may be more laid back than his sister he still has a fiery Irish rage.

Also that dancing at the end...

Cliff Pantone - Bring It On

Oh hey, another fantastic representation of Jacob and my MC’s relationship =p

First off, look at this dork playing guitar and jumping around his room, thinking he’s so cool when he’s, again, a huge dork - that’s Jacob =p Also possibly another good face claim for my Jacob that I never thought of before...

His relationship with his sister is perfect because they kind of are like best friends. There’s teasing and making faces at each other but there’s love and support (I know he has a thing for Torrence but I still think he goes to support his sister as a cheerleader as well and he totally went to all her gymnastic meets and probably classes too). He’s clearly musical (plays guitar like my Jacob), and although I don’t believe he’s ever shown participating in any athletics or mentions it (I haven’t seen this movie in awhile) he appears to be pretty athletic and fit (look at him! =p) which Jacob is as a Quidditch player with goals to become a professional.

Despite being a dork, he also manages to be pretty cool, doesn’t let idiot bullies get to him, he’s above all that kind of crap, and that infamous toothbrushing scene - classic Jacob who’s subtle (and okay still a bit dorky) but it works (maybe he teaches Bill a thing or two =p)

~*~*~

All in all, Jacob is the classic big brother who manages to be a chill, cool dork who’s quiet and sarcastic, with fortunately a great sense of humor to laugh at himself. He’s athletic, musical, ambitious, a bit rebellious, but like a true Gryffindor will leap in the line of fire to protect those he cares about without any hesitation while also being a caring and affectionate friend and brother who will punch you in the face, especially for his sister. He and his sister may bicker and tease each other and play fight but they care so much for each other, always have each other’s backs, take care of each other, protect each other, be there for each other no matter what - its them against the world.

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #hphm jacob #hphm mc #my mc #tag game #thank you for tagging me #i made a thing

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