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wiypt-writes · 4 years ago

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Murder, He Wrote

Epilogue

Summary: You and Ransom attend the launch of his book and the cover closes on your story.

Warnings: Bad language, Mature (NSFW, 18+) NON-CON situations, kidnap, violence. Blood. DO NOT READ IF ANY OF THOSE TRIGGER…READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED…YOU HAVE BEENWARNED.

Pairing: DARK! Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N: The end! I can’t believe all this span from @jtargaryen18’s Halloween Challenge last year. I hope you have enjoyed his as much as I have.

Word Count: 3.6k

READ THE WARNINGS!!!! This is a DARK series so don’t @me if you can’t follow simple instructions and end up with butt-hurt. And if you’re under 18 get off my blog!

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and by writing it does NOT mean I agree with or condone the acts contained within. This fiction is classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar reader and any other OCs that may or may not be mentioned. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Murder, He Wrote Masterlist // Main Masterlist.

Part 7

The town car and it's driver took you to whatever swanky hotel Ransom and his publishers had decided upon, you not caring the slightest inwardly, outwardly only half paying attention. You glanced out the window watching the lights of downtown pass by as your husband of merely three weeks held your hand and rubbed the back of it with his thumb.

It was a warm July evening, the two of you dressed to the nines in formal attire. Ransom had insisted the launch be an invite only, formal event. Therefore, he was dressed in a two-piece suit, black of course, with a crisp white button down, silken black tie, and you, you looked like an ice queen's slutty sister. The powder blue silk dress you wore tied together with thin straps on each shoulder, your feet already hurting in your nude six inch sandals. Your free hand tapped a neatly manicured finger over your clutch that matched your shoes. A delicate white gold and diamond tennis bracelet adorned your wrist whilst the necklace you'd been gifted at Christmas hung around your neck. You wore your hair the way he said he loved it, in a ponytail full of waves and wisps framing your face.

After the incident on Valentine’s Day, you’d spent another two weeks in the confines of the basement. All luxuries removed and you were used and abused in exactly the way you had been when Ransom had first taken you, until he’d once more sucked the fight out of you. Only this time you didn’t have the strength to find it again.

You played the part you’d been cast in his sick little fantasy and became totally passive to his whims. You let him fuck you which, in all honesty, wasn’t an entirely unpleasant situation as he knew his way around your body and it felt good. You had given up denying it, and for the moments he was teasing those carnal reactions out of you, you escaped, let yourself imagine you were with someone who you wanted. And by keeping him sweet, you fooled him into thinking you were content. And things settled down, you had that halfway to normal life that you’d achieved before you discovered his manuscript.

But it was bullshit. A means to an end. And you deserved a fucking Oscar.

He’d had the audacity to propose to you, too. In a restaurant. Surrounded by people. He asked you the question, like you had a fucking choice.

Angry, desperate tears had filled your eyes as you’d simply gaped at him, tears the deluded cunt took for you being overwhelmed with happiness. With a smile he slipped the gaudily large diamond on your finger, sealing your fate.

It weighed as heavy on your hand as the grief for your lost life, and the despair at your situation did in your heart.

You’d had a small wedding. Attended simply by your parents and sister. He sent an invite to his mother and father but they didn’t show up. Your dad walked you down the aisle and as you walked towards the man you hated with every breath in your body, your father kissed your cheek and asked you if you were sure you wanted to do this. And no, of course you didn’t, but what could you do?

There was no way out.

“You look as gorgeous tonight as you did on our wedding day.” Ransom’s voice slightly startled you and you turned to face him.

You smiled at him, the smile you knew he wanted to see, as he placed a soft kiss to your cheek before doing the same to your hand, his lips ghosted over the top of the obscene rock and matching band on your finger which caught the lights of the city, sparkling with all the ferocity of a supernova.

Before you needed to reply with some half assed compliment back, the town car stopped as the driver got out and opened Ransom's door.

"Wait here," he instructed and walked around with the driver on the other side, escorting you out the minute your own door opened.

Flashbulbs fired off in your eyes, no doubt the press there for some absolutely ridiculous notion that this book was anything but its true nature of terror and disgust.

Ransom’s hand pressed into the base of your back as he guided you along in front of him, various members of the press calling his name, and you heard the excited shouts from some as they spotted the bands on both yours and Ransom’s hands, positively shrieking as they asked when you’d gotten married.

The headlines flashed in your mind now, 'Grandson of the Great Harlan Thrombey Releases First Suspense Novel'. 'One of Boston's Most Notorious and Eligible Bachelors is Strictly Off The Market' . 'Trust Fund Playboy Sinks His Bunny'.

It made you want to puke.

In fact, as the press line faded and you stepped foot into the lobby, you swallowed back the bile forcing its way up. A tray with champagne flutes passed you by and you immediately snagged one.

When Ransom had been distracted for a brief moment, you quickly glanced around and swallowed back the entire flute of the bubbly drink. Delightfully enjoying the brief taste and quick head rush it gave you.

The further you walked into the event, his hand still against your bare back, the louder it grew and the more trays of champagne and appetizers were floating by.

As typical, the two of you were fashionably late so, you had little chance to take part in any nibble or further, a drink, because the supposed "man of the hour", more like terror of life, was due to give a speech.

His agent pulled the two of you aside and made mention that it was time for Ransom to greet his guests. He pressed a sickening sweet kiss to your lips and confidently took to the small podium atop a small stage nearby.

“First and foremost, thank you to everyone who came out tonight. But more importantly, thank you to my beautiful wife, without you Sweetheart, this wouldn't be possible.”

The smile he flashed you was loaded with meaning as the pair of you looked at one another, his eyes shining with the depraved private understanding you shared.

And you hated him then just about as much as you ever had.

Excited muttering spread around the room as he had knowingly referred to you as his wife. It was the first time he’d announced your marriage to the world but, as he smiled and held his hands up, nodding smugly and confirming whatever people were asking him, you felt nothing but an overwhelming sense of nausea. To everyone else it was a sweet dedication, to you it was a sickening truth. This book was based on what he’d done to you. What he was saying was literal truth.

And the fact that the people currently applauding whatever he had said would never realise the true nature of those words on the pages of his book made you want to vomit in your handbag.

Applause rang around the room and you realised everyone was turned in your direction. Drawing your shoulders back you stood tall and once more fixed that fake smile on your face before Ransom cleared his throat and began to speak again.

But you didn't listen, you drowned him out, the sound of his voice distant and murky like Charlie Brown's teacher. You allowed you mind to think of anything but the present, other than the fact that these people were in unknowing full support of the hell you'd been through the last nine months.

Eventually a loud, rapturous applause signalled the end of his speech and he stepped back, smiling and then turned to the man from his publishers who shook his hand furiously, before the pair of them posed for photos.

That was when he beckoned you to him, looking at you in such a way that made your skin crawl and your teeth seethe with each breath. This bastard expected a photo op from you above all this, commemorating this disaster.

On autopilot you headed towards him, indifference obedience now your specialty and his arm curled possessively round your waist, fingers splaying on your hip. You posed and smiled as the flashes went off, but as you stole a glance at the large, ornate clock on the wall, you suddenly felt your head beginning to swim.

Seeing a convenient way out of this bullshit, you made sure to falter just a little, placing your hand to your chest. It caused Ransom's attention to turn to you.

"Sweetheart, are you alright?"

“I’m feeling a little light headed and warm.” You looked up at him. “Could we maybe get some air?”

"Sure, yeah," he looked to his agent and they nodded towards a side door in the room.

His arm still round you, playing the doting husband, he led you towards it and opened it with a flourish, allowing you to step out in front of him.

You emerged into the alley at the side of the building and took a huge gulp of air, steadying yourself.

"Y/N, what's wrong?"

You were warm, flushed, your skin tingling as the now cooling air hit your slightly damp skin, your nipples perking at the temperature change were visible through the silk dress, and you didn’t miss the heated glance he gave them as you spoke. "I, I don't know. I think it's all the commotion."

“You do look a little flushed.” His eyes moved back to yours and he studied you for a moment, his large hands gently cupping your face as he kissed your forehead before his lips pressed to yours. “Wanna take a walk?”

Despite the fact you really couldn’t walk far in the ridiculous shoes you were in, you nodded. Anything to avoid going back in there and listening to all those sycophants kissing his ass.

He took your hand and started walking slowly down the alley. You were mid-way down when a man jumped out from behind the dumpster. You screamed and instinctively Ransom jumped to the side, pulling you slightly behind him.

“Give me the money and the jewellery, no one gets hurt.” The man spoke gruffly and you felt Ransom draw himself up to his full height as he glared at the dirty, dishevelled man, disdain on his face.

“Eat shit.”

“Ransom, just... please give him what he wants.” Your voice trembled as your body shook, your right hand already removing the rings on your left.

“I’d listen to your pretty wife, if I were you.” The man spoke as he reached into his pocket and when he withdrew his hand you swallowed at the unmistakable flash of metal.

“Fuck, Ransom, he’s got a knife!” You clutched his arm. “Please just give it to him!”

"Fuck, no," he started reaching for his phone but the man lunged toward him.

In the melee that followed, you were thrown to the side, your rings clanging to the floor somewhere along with your clutch, your palms and knees scraping painfully on the floor. By the time you’d pushed yourself up, you saw the man scrambling to his feet, Ransom’s watch and wallet in his hand. He turned to look at you and you backed away, stumbling once more to the ground letting out a blood curdling scream as he advanced. He stopped, picked up your rings and your bag, before he turned, bolting up the alley and rounding the corner, disappearing from sight.

"Y/N," the croaking voice came from your husband as he staggered towards you, a deep red seeping through his white dress shirt, his one hand attempting to stave off the bleeding. The other, cradling his phone. But he didn't get more than a few steps as he collapsed nearby.

"Ransom!" You shrieked and heels be damned, you ran to him, looking around, "help!"

"Call 9-1-1, Baby," he begged, trying to thrust the phone into your hand and you leaned over him.

With a jittery hand you swiped over to the emergency call option and hit the first two digits before you glanced around again and hesitated, rising slowly to your feet.

“What...” Ransom’s chest heaved as he looked up at you, his face white with shock as you turned the phone in your hand and shrugged.

“Yeah, you see, I could call for help but...” with that you tossed his phone to the hard ground and crunched it with your stupidly high heel, rotating your foot to make double sure, the glass and metal grinding between the stiletto and the tarmac. “Whoops, looks like it got smashed in the fight.” You gave a little chuckle. “And of course, mine was in my bag which he took. Isn’t that ironic? I mean the first time you permit me to use it for something other than to contact you or my mom, I can’t.” You made a little tutting noise. “Guess I’ll just have to keep yelling and hope someone hears.”

With that you turned and screamed, a frantic yell. “Please, someone help us! Please, he’s been stabbed, call 9-1-1.” You slowly dropped back to a kneel, ignoring the sting of your grazed knees and smirked. “Dammed, I really am good at this acting shit, don’t you think, handsome?”

Ransom coughed a harsh and wet cough. His chest heaving raggedly as he struggled between catching a breath and bleeding out.

“Y/N...” he spluttered, “you...please...”

"So many criminal junkies in Boston, Sweetheart. Plenty who will take the fall for a little hit,” you emphasised the 't' of the last word as you spoke the very same line that he had delivered to you months ago, the threat he had held over you and used to keep you in check whenever you stepped over that line.

His eyes widened further as the realisation set in, you could see his brain working and it gave you a buzz, a sense of satisfaction to know that he understood this was your doing.

You wanted the last thing this bastard thought about to be how you were responsible for his death. But more so, his narcissistic and sociopathic tendencies be damned, you wanted him to completely understand exactly how it was his fault.

And given the way he was bleeding and struggling for breath, you didn’t have long.

Another scream for help flew from your mouth as you pressed one hand on top of his which were now both clutched to the wound in his stomach, the other brushing his hair back slightly as you smiled down at him.

“I told you when you threw me back in the basement that the way you treat people would come back to haunt you.” You gave a little shrug. “And, when you told the homeless guy looking in the bins on collection day a few months back to eat shit and get a job, well, he took it kinda personally. He didn’t even blink when I asked how much it would take to knock you off.”

"You..." choking on blood, "vicious..." choke,

At that you gave another loud hysteric yell for help before you turned your head back to look at him.

“See, once upon a time I thought you’d changed. But here’s the thing, a person like you doesn’t change, Hugh. You’re incapable of love. You take what you want when you want for no reason other than it pleases you.”

Another scream for help, and this time you could hear someone answering and a lot of yells as people started running towards you.

“Well, now I’ve taken your life like you took mine.” You bent down, your forehead pressing to his as you smirked. His arm reached up to grab you, his blood soaked hand curling over your cheek and side of your neck. "And you know what? It feels good."

His palm was warm and slick against your skin and his eyes blazed with anger as his fingers squeezed. You knew he was desperately trying to hurt you but you felt nothing. You smiled, as you placed a soft kiss to his lips, your words whispered as you pulled back ever so slightly. “Karma’s a bitch, and so am I. See you in hell.”

As the fake tears started to pool in your eyes once more, you allowed your lip to tremble for distraught emphasis. Blood was now trickling out of Ransom's mouth, along down his ear and to the tarmac. You pulled back just a little so as to see his eyes. You wanted to watch him choke on his own blood as he took that final breath. You started sputtering words incoherently as you amped up the hysteria, hearing the footfalls now just behind you.

He didn’t even make it to the hospital.

Hugh Ransom Drysdale was pronounced dead at 21:05 hours on Friday 17th July where he lay in a pool of his own blood, in that dark alleyway down the side of the hotel.

Leaving you a widow.

And free.

***10 months later***

It was as simple as it sounded, closing your eyes and pointing to a spot on a map. Your finger ended up on Boulder.

Colorado was far enough from the last year or so of your life that you could feel comfortable. You'd researched it, finding it to be something worth interest. Affordable. Breath-taking scenery. Incredible life altering activities and quaint little towns. The summers were supposedly warm but rarely did the temperature rise above ninety-five, the winters were supposedly very cold, dry and windy; rarely dropping below six degrees with partly cloudy skies year round.

The months following Ransom’s death had been as draining as humanly possible. The investigation had involved countless interviews before the police and authorities settled for it being a mugging gone wrong. But then there had been the months of wrangling and private law cases his parents had attempted to bring against you to prevent you getting his money, despite the probate law being fairly simple. You were married. He left no will. It was yours by default.

Eventually, when the Drysdales had exhausted every last option, they were forced to concede and that was when you made the decision to leave, a decision of which your parents were highly encouraging. They practically talked you into this whole thing to begin with. Helping you leave your nightmares behind. Despite them not suspecting anything at first, you weren't blind to the fact that things still had not sat right with them. You knew they had suspected a level coercion, that maybe you'd had a manic episode of mental illness, but you never had divulged the full details and by the time he was gone, they hadn't cared. Your relationship with them had strengthened and healed and that was what you cared about.

Now, you were newly nestled in Boulder with a great condo downtown, a stone’s throw from the historic district that was filled with cliché shops and bars. Whilst you didn’t need the money, you’d taken a job working in the media department of a private law firm. It was a far cry from your journalist days, but it suited you just fine.

The more distance you put between who you were now and who you had been, the better.

You were at peace.

The May evening air was temperate as you crossed the street and opened the door to the designated bar in which you were meeting your new group of friends, mostly gathered from work, for a girl's night out. You’d been held up a little in the office so they were already waiting at a table. You waved and gestured to the bar, indicating you were going to get a drink.

As you sidled up to the wooden counter, you were jolted a little into a man to your right. You turned to apologise and gave a little double take. You recognised him instantly. But you didn’t want to make that obvious and cause him to feel uncomfortable. You knew how it felt, to have everyone looking at you, hushed whispered comments as you went about your business, people trying to figure out if you were who they thought you were.

That was part of the reason you had moved, and you sure as hell weren’t about to subject the man next to you to the same, uncomfortable experiences.

Recovering quickly, you hastily apologised and he smiled.

“Don’t worry about it.” His Boston accent was evident and you smiled.

“I miss that accent.”

The man chuckled, his warm blue eyes creasing slightly as he looked at you. “You from Boston, too?”

“Concord.”

“Newton.” He replied, “well, I lived there anyway, but I’m sure you already knew that.”

You wrinkled your nose. “Should I? Know that, I mean?”

He studied you for a moment, and you kept your face as passive as possible. You could tell he knew that you knew, but you gave a shrug none-the-less and he smiled, a gorgeous smile that lit up his entire face, perfect white teeth flashing from beneath an immaculately groomed beard, as he extended his arm towards you.

“Andy Barber.” His fingers gently brushed the back of your knuckles, as you shook his hand, his grip warm and gentle.

“Oh, of course.” You smiled back. “One of our attorneys.”

“Our?”

“Yeah, sorry, I’m Y/N. I work in the media department. I mean I only started a few weeks ago but...”

“Well, in that case, I’m pleased to meet you, Y/N, and welcome aboard.” His smile didn’t falter as he let go of your hand and gestured to the bar. “Can I get you a drink?”

You paused for a moment before you took a deep breath.

And nodded.

“Sure, that’d be great.”

******

Sequel: Follow Andy and reader’s story in Consciousness Of Guilt.

#murder he wrote #dark ransom drysdale #dark ransom drysdale x reader #dark ransom x reader #dark ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale fic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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angryschnauzer · 4 years ago

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Blackwater Lake - Chapter 1

Summary: There’s a little town high in the mountains where everyone has a secret, and every family has something that makes them unique. In Blackwater Lake those that are outcast by nature come together.

Characters: Werewolf!Captain Syverson, Werewolf!Female Reader, Vampire!Walter Marshall.

Warnings (for this chapter, all small mentions but warning just in case): Breastfeeding, Accidental Cutting Injury/Blood loss, blood transfusions. This chapter contains no sex scenes or scenes of a sexual nature.

A continuation of previous Werewolf!Sy stories Moonlight on the Sand and Castle Under The Stars. This will be a series of stand alone stories/2 parters, which will revolve around the residents of the town, with some recurring characters.

I do not run a tag list, but please follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications. You’ll then get an alert every time i post something new.

Blackwater Lake - Chapter 1

The late spring day brought pleasant scents and mouth watering flavours, Blackwater Lake’s town May day parade in full flow as you held two month old Luna in her carrier to your chest, turning to smile at your husband Sy as he balanced Mikey on his shoulders so your son could watch the floats whilst they slowly cruised past. You knew he would be most excited about the Fire Department bringing their trucks past. At the first whoop of the siren Mikey squealed with joy, the ice cream cone in his hand tipping slightly and setting a blob of blue bubblegum flavour gelato into Sy’s cheek;

“Hey, no wriggles! Its raining ice cream down here”

Pausing the consumption of your own cone you handed it to Sy as you reached into your bag and found a baby wipe, moving to wipe his cheek before stretching to wipe your son’s face. Finding a trash can to toss the wipe into, you smiled as you watched your two boys as they waved to the Fire Trucks, the crew making sure to honk their horns when they saw Sy.

Everyone in town loved Sy. You’d moved there together when you’d found out you were pregnant with Mikey, your army days behind you and wanting to seek somewhere quiet where you could live in the woods to allow for full moon runs whilst being close enough to civilisation to raise a family. The aging receptionist at the realtor had pulled you aside the second you’d arrived in their office when you’d visited the town, recognising one of her own as her nostrils had flared and she’d explained that there were ‘all sorts’ in the town. That was your first meeting with Edith, and you’d gone on to move in just up the mountain from her. Once Sy had finished in the Army and baby number two was on the way, he’d started working alongside retired detective Walter at his construction company where they specialised in commercial buildings. They were always on call for when businesses had emergencies, so had come to the aid of half the town after storms and accidents.

As the parade dragged on Luna woke, grumbling for a change and a feed. The two boys were transfixed with the parade and you’d lost your ice cream cone to Sy who was now mindlessly munching away on it. Tugging on his sleeve you caught his attention;

“Luna’s woken up, i’m gonna take her into Sue’s Coffee Shop to change her and give her a feed”

“Sure thing Darlin, we’ll come find you in a bit”

The coffee shop was quiet, its doors opened onto the sidewalk and as the radio played soft rock music, just one or two tables taken outside but the inside empty. Sue - the owner - smiled at you as you walked in;

“Hey Sue!”

“Hey there! What can I get'cha?”

“Can i get a decaf iced latte? I just need to change Luna if that’s ok?”

“Of course, no need to ask, the restroom is empty”

A couple of minutes later your little girl had a clean butt but was still grizzling, now hungry for your milk. Sue had set your drink onto a table in the corner, a soft window seat she knew you liked to sit at to feed. Settling in you pulled your cami top down and unhooked the strap of your nursing bra, helping Luna to latch on as she cried before a blissful quiet descended over you as she happily suckled on your breast. In the quiet of the coffee shop you reached for your drink and sipped on it, smiling down at your beautiful daughter as she gazed up at you;

“Hey there my little Luna, better now? Is that the good stuff? Yeah? Well that’s what your Daddy says it is…” you said with a whisper and a smirk.

“Hey”

The sudden greeting made you jump, looking up to see Walter standing near your table;

“Oh, Hi Walter”

“Sorry…” he glanced away, averting his eyes from where you were feeding; “I just asked if you wanted anything?”

“Oh no, i’m fine, i’ve got a coffee… but you’re welcome to join me if you like? Sy and Mikey will be along once the Parade’s over”

Nodding once the quiet man went to order before returning with what looked like a quad espresso but faltering when it came to taking a seat;

“Where did you want me to sit?”

“Oh anywhere you like” you shifted Luna as she had finished on one breast, hooking that side up before shifting and moving her to the other breast. You’d mastered the art of switching breasts without revealing anything, the baby's head blocking any view of a nipple, and you were a vehement supporter of breast feeding - in fact any feeding - and had been known to get into loud shouting matches with anyone that told you to cover up something that was completely natural.

“I mean, i don’t want Sy to think i’m here oggling his wife’s tits”

Laughing, you kicked out a soft chair with your foot;

“This is fairly low, take this one and here…” you moved the upright menu on the table in front of Luna’s head, knowing that she would now be shielded from view and with your breast, and saving Walter’s embarrassment.

Just as Walter sat down Sue brough over his sandwich, the scent of it hitting your nostrils and making your stomach audibly growl;

“Oh wow, what is that?”

“A steak wrap with chimichurri sauce” he lifted one half and offered it to you, but you shook your head.

“Thanks, but that’s just a little too rare for me… looks like a good veterinarian could bring it back to life”

Walter laughed as you called out to Sue, ordering one of the same.

“You want yours still mooing too?”

“Medium, please” you laughed as she nodded and walked away.

As she cooked your meal you turned back to Walter. You’d had a few conversations with him over the 11 months he and Sy had worked together, but knew very little about him apart from his reputation of being quiet and surly, generally sleep deprived and a little pale most of the time. He’d been medically retired from the Police Department after an accident where he’d lost a lot of blood and had never fully recovered.

As Luna happily fed and Walter devoured his sandwich you sipped on your drink, watching with curiosity as the man ate in silence, savouring each bloody bite. When he finally crumpled the napkin onto the plate and sat back he caught you watching him;

“What? Do i have something on my face?”

“No” you laughed softly; “Just watching how quickly you devoured that sandwich. Rachel not feeding you at home?”

Walter’s face dropped;

“She left”

“Oh fuck. I’m sorry Walter, i wouldn’t have said anything if i’d known”

“S’ok. She got fed up with the way i lived my life, but i can’t change who i am”

“True”

Just then Sy and Mikey came running into the coffee shop;

“Hi Darlin! Hi Sue! Hi Walt… be right back, Jnr has a bathroom emergency!”

The two Syverson boys disappeared into the restroom, and you could clearly hear Sy’s voice;

“Point! POINT IT AT THE TOILET! That’s it, stand on your tippy toes… there we go! Got here in time!”

You suppressed a laugh, Walter raising his eyebrows;

“Potty training?”

“Uh-huh… it's been a challenging few weeks to say the least, but Mikey wanted to give it a go”

The sound of the dryer could be heard as Sy and Mikey reappeared, Sy giving you double thumbs up from behind his son who ran to you;

“A perfect aim Darlin, no leaks. Think this deserves a cookie!”

As Mikey squealed with joy you groaned;

“Sy… not more sugar! He’ll be up all night. Mikey, honey, how about some fries?”

“And Eggies?” Mikey asked

“Sure thing honey, get Daddy to ask Sue”

As the afternoon wore on and the boys chatted, you listened as Sy and Walter discussed work stuff, Luna sleeping peacefully in your arms as you ate with Mikey. Finally glancing at your watch you motioned to Sy the time;

“Hun, i’ve gotta go collect our meat order from Walkers Meats”

“Oh yeah, sure. Here…” He opened his wallet and peeled off a bunch of $20’s as he turned to Walter; “She makes the best Steak Tartare… it's unbelievable”

“You make that?” Walter asked

Angling Luna into her carrier sling you adjusted the straps and nodded;

“Sure do! Hey, did you want to join us for dinner?”

“Yeah, join us!” Sy parroted; “And before you say anything, you wouldn’t be intruding”

With a weak smile Walter nodded;

“Sure, that’ll be nice. I gotta go to the lumber yard before though… pick out the stuff for next week's job”

You noticed that Mikey had finished his meal and was looking sleepy, holding your hand out to him he slid off the chair and stood next to you;

“How about I take the kids home, Sy you catch a ride with Walter?”

With everyone happy with the arrangements you made your way along main street to where Sy had parked his enormous truck, helping Mikey into his seat before unlatching Luna and settling her into her carrier. They were both fast asleep by the time you got to the drivers seat.

You managed to park directly outside the door to Walkers Meats, and Freya the weekend girl helpfully brought everything out to you when you called inside that the kids were asleep in the car and you didn’t want to leave them.

Dinner had been fun. The two kids were peacefully sleeping as the three adults chatted after the meal, before you finally stood to load the dishwasher and start hand washing the items that couldn’t go in there. Just as you were about to start you heard a cry from the kids, Sy standing;

“It’s Mikey, i’ll go”

As you started to handwash the various knives and delicate glasses, Walter stood at your side to dry items, the two of you talking casually before you let out a cry and pulled your hand from the soapy bowl of water. The dark crimson of your blood flowed from your finger, the knife you’d forgotten you’d put in the sink the cause;

“Fuck… hand me a towel…” you asked Walter, but were surprised when he sucked in a sharp intake of breath and turned, hunching over. Clutching your hand to your chest, you were surprised by his reaction, before he suddenly turned and you let out a shriek.

Sy appeared at the doorway in a panic before rushing to you, wrapping a napkin around your hand before he finally turned to look at Walter;

“What the fuck…”

Walter was pale, paler than usual, but that wasn’t what shocked the pair of you. No, it was the fact his eyes were pure white except for dark pools for his pupils, and as he opened his mouth to speak you saw his fangs;

“It’s… it’s the blood…” he gasped out; “It drives me…”

Sy wrapped his arm around your shoulders, but looked at his friend as he slumped onto the floor, shaking and sobbing;

“Think we need a chat Walt”

The three of you sat around the kitchen table, a hefty glass of scotch in front of each of you as Walter spoke;

“So umm yeah… this is why i left the Department. Went into a supposedly abandoned building, but it wasn’t empty. Two what we thought were junkies in there, looked like they were frail and would snap in a keen wind, but they had this strength and speed… They overpowered me, latched onto my neck. Drained my blood, and when the last drop was about to pass their lips one of my officers finally found me and shot them. They bled into me. The EMT’s took me to New Mercy and gave me a massive blood transfusion, and treated me for severe anemia… well guess what, the fangs and fucked up eyes were a surprise a few weeks after i was discharged”

You sat wide eyed and mouth agape, not touching your drink;

“I have so many questions...”

“Okay”

“Garlic. Crosses. Being invited in. Sunlight…”

Walter chuckled;

“Most a load of complete bollocks. Garlic? Well you put some in your steak tartare didn’t you? In fact it helps with the anemia. Crosses? No issue. Being invited in, again that’s just rubbish. Sunlight however… why do you think i’m so pale, huh? Have to wear factor 50 all the damn time otherwise i end up looking like a Maine Lobster at a cookout”

Both you and Sy were transfixed, Walter chatting away but his eyes hadn’t returned to normal and his fangs occasionally caught on his lip as he spoke.

“What ‘bout blood then?” Sy asked

Walter cleared his throat;

“Well, i’ve been making do with cows blood since Rachel left”

“You used to suck her blood?” you asked in a high pitched voice

Again Walter cleared his throat, this time just the faintest hint of a blush crept over his cheeks above his beard;

“Err yeah, about once a month… but she had enough in the end and left”

“I got another question” Sy interjected; “Why are your fangs still out?”

Although he answered Sy, Walter looked directly at you;

“Because she’s bleeding”

You looked down at your hand, puzzled as the wound had now sealed, before it hit you;

“Oh… I should go and sort that out”

Sy caught up quickly, glancing at the back of your dress;

“You’re fine Darlin, Walt caught it in time”

When you returned to the kitchen the two men had knocked back their drinks, Sy pouring another hefty glass for the pair of them. Pouring your drink into Sy’s you smiled at him;

“Luna won’t appreciate it”

Making yourself a herb tea you sat down next to Sy, leaning on his shoulder as you sipped your tea. Walter cleared this throat;

“You two have taken this a lot better than i envisioned anyone would… better than Rachel did…”

You looked up at Sy and smiled, his own grin crossing over his face before he nodded and you both turned to Walter as Sy spoke;

“Oh… we have a bit of understanding of this kinda thing”

With the full moon starting tomorrow night you knew that you could both force your eyes to turn orange, the bright ring of fire in your irises flaming like a pyre, shocking Walter so much he slipped back on his chair and fell to the floor. Greeted by both of you giggling, he pulled himself back up using the table as he righted his chair, knocking back the rest of his glass;

“What… the… FUCK?��

#blackwater lake #henry cavill #captain syverson #walter marshall #werewolf!sy #Vampire!Walter

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tinyboxxtink · 3 years ago

Text

"....So I Married A Murderer" *Chapter 4*

Chapter 3

Chapter 5

Look I know I'm not helping myself with the Olivia stans, but in my defense this is a totally legitimate situation. And valid feelings towards Olivia given said situation. I'm not saying she's actually the bad guy here, but from an outsider's prospective without having actually seen what Lewis did to her, it's really just Olivia's hearsay. Am I wrong?!

That being said you know she's always gotta have that thing for Rafa, wedging her way in there. I'm sorry, it has to happen.

Tag List

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@mrsrafaelbarba

@word-scribbless

@storiesofsvu

@believinghurts

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

“Uh, who is it?” Rafael called through the door, still panting from the work out his was mouth was getting.

“It’s me,” Olivia’s voice came back through.

“Shit…” Rafael pushed you off him and straightened himself up. You had never seen him ‘jump’ so fast when someone beckoned. Then again you hadn’t really seen him at work; but you thought he’d be more dominant than he was acting.

“Come in,” He instructed as he smoothed out his suit. Olivia opened the door and walked in, her face went from a smile to a scowl when she saw you standing there.

“Is this…?” She eyed you.

“Olivia this is my girlfriend, Y/N,” He gestured to you.

You had to smile, even though you were severely uncomfortable with the awkward exchange and introductions. You really hadn’t heard Rafael ever introduce you to anyone, let alone as his girlfriend. And also, you were relieved he still thought of you as such. Although you weren’t really sure how long that was going to last.

“Oh she’s your girlfriend now?” Olivia crossed her arms, causing you to furrow your eyebrows. What was her problem?

“What are you talking about Liv?” Rafael took your hand defensively. “She’s always been my girlfriend, you know that,”

“Uh huh and now that she’s in cahoots with Lewis?”

“Cahoots,” You snickered, causing the both of them to give you a look. “What? It’s a funny word…” You now looked at the floor in embarrassment. Excuse you for trying to lighten the mood.

“She’s not in ‘cahoots’ with Lewis…” He assured Olivia, then turned to you. “Are you, carino?”

“Uh…” How were you supposed to answer that? Obviously you weren’t helping him plan his next murder, but you also came down here with the specific intent to defend him to Rafael. Your pause gave both Rafael and Olivia concern.

“Y/N…” Rafael said more seriously, dropping your hand.

“Well…” You tugged at your blazer. “I’m not helping plan any murders, if that’s what you’re saying,”

“Oh my god…” Rafael muttered, looking away from you.

“Raff, look--”

“No no no,” Olivia now stepped in between the two of you. “No ‘Raff’, lady,” She glared at you.

“Excuse the hell out of you, woman,” You glared right back.

“If you’re planning on helping that monster with anything--” Olivia got in your face.

“Why is he a monster?” You stepped right into her, not afraid of her tough guy act.

“Excuse me?” Oliva narrowed her eyes harder.

“I want to hear in specific details, just exactly why you think he’s a monster,” You challenged her.

“Wha--?” She looked at Rafael in disbelief. “Because he kidnapped me? Tortured me? Almost killed me?!”

“From what I saw you almost killed him, Ms. Benson,” You said snidely.

“Excuse me?” Olivia was stunned at your defiance.

“I saw the scars on his face, and his damaged ear. He’s partially deaf now, because of you,” You explained.

“Wow…” Olivia exhaled sarcastically. “WOW….”

“Y/N,” Rafael’s voice softened. “No offense but, you don’t know what you’re talking about--”

“Are they fake?” You asked.

“What?” He replied quizzically.

“The scars,” you clarified. “Are they fake?”

“Well no, but--”

“So she did beat him within an inch of his life?” You gestured towards Olivia.

“I HAD TO!!!” Olivia screamed.

“BULLSHIT!!!!!!” You screamed back at her.

“Y/N!” Rafael yelled, trying to get your attention over the screaming.

“You’re telling me, that once you got him unconscious,” You narrowed your eyes. “Which, let’s be real would only take a few blows to the head, if not just one,”

Olivia exhaled again, crossing her arms and looking away from you as you approached her slowly.

“That you couldn’t have just-- I don’t know, run away? Gotten help?” You got even closer, lowering your voice to a growl. “That you just had to beat my husband to all hell?”

“Y/N…” Rafael’s voice sounded hurt now, hearing you call Lewis your husband.

“Yes,” Olivia stuck to her guns.

“You’re a fucking liar,” You resisted the urge to spit in her face as you backed away from her.

“You really know how to pick ‘em, don’t you Barba?” Olivia scoffed.

You suddenly remembered Rafael being in the room, hearing you defend Bobby like that. You turned to see him with tears in his eyes, betrayal on his face.

“Y/N you need to leave,” Rafael said in a soft but terse tone.

“No,” You crossed your arms now. You did feel bad that you were turning on him, but if he was going to defend this bitch just because she was his friend, you were angry at him too.

“Rafael,” You lowered your voice but kept your anger. “Look you weren’t there. You’re just taking her word for it--”

“And you’re just taking Lewis’s word for it!” Rafael didn't falter

“Because he was my HUSBAND!” You exclaimed angrily. If he wasn't backing down, neither were you.

“She’s my BEST FRIEND!!!” He argued,

“Oh is she? Now she’s your best friend? Because that’s not what you said the other night. Or were you lying to me?” You now were starting to doubt anything he said to you.

“W-What?” Olivia said softly, making Rafael turn to her sadly. Now she had the betrayed look on her face.

“A I told you not to tell her, and B--” He paused as he walked over to Liv with a pathetic look before turning back to you. “I thought you were.”

“You thought I was?” You bit your lip, afraid of what was coming.

“Y/N if you’re going to...to choose that monster over me, how the fuck am I supposed to consider you a friend?”

“I’m not ‘choosing’ him Rafael,” Angry tears stung your eyes. “You KNOW she’s lying! It doesn’t make any sense!”

“Look you weren’t there either Y/N,” Rafael said sternly. “You don’t know the kind of trauma he put her through--”

“So that makes it okay?” You challenged him, still glaring at Olivia. “Last time I checked, the NYPD wasn’t built on ‘Marshall Law’,”

“It wasn’t--” Rafael started.

“I didn’t kill him!” Olivia defended herself.

“Oh gee detective, how kind of you,” You mocked her. “You let him live with severe deficits because-- what? He wouldn’t sleep with you? Because you had a bad trip?”

“THAT IS NOT WHAT HAPPENED, YOU LITTLE BITCH!!!!!” Olivia charged you, and before Rafael could do anything she was on top of you, slapping the shit out of you.

“OLIVIA!!!!” Rafael screamed before immediately pulling Olivia off of you. You stood up in shock and anger, your face hot and swelling from her hands across it.

“...And you’re going to believe THAT, over Billy?” You gestured to Olivia.

“Alright that was a little much--” He conceded to Olivia's little stunt.

A LITTLE MUCH?!” You now screamed while stomping your foot. “I didn’t even do anything to her, and she ATTACKED me!”

“You were cornering her--” He kept making excuses for her.

“You’re still defending her,” You laughed dryly, tears apparent in your voice. “She just attacked me, and you’re still defending her,”

“Y/N,” His voice was now soft and sorry. “Baby, I--” He went to take your hand.

“No,” You snapped it away and backed away from the two of them. “Don’t you fucking dare start ‘baby’ now, Rafael,”

“You had the audacity to act betrayed when I defended Billy, who has never done ANYTHING to you. When you-- you ACTUALLY see your little ginger there attack me, and defend her?” Angry, hot tears now spilled down your face.

“Baby please--” He begged you just as he had at your house the night before.

“No,” You shook your head. “No, I’m not falling for this-- ‘baby please, I love you, you’re in danger, I’m the good guy,’ bullshit anymore,”

“It’s not bullshit!” Rafael replied frantically. He knew he was losing you.

“Really? Because from where I’m standing, the only ‘monster’ here is her,” You gestured towards Olivia who was still quietly raging from earlier.

“You know Billy wants to get back together,” You said simply to Rafael.

“What….NO,” Rafael was really beginning to panic now. “No you can’t go back to that--”

“If you say ‘monster’ one more time I swear to God Rafael--”

“What, are you gonna hit him?” Olivia mocked him.

“No, that’s what YOU do, captain!” You spat.

“Amor, please don’t do this,” He used spanish pet names, knowing they were your weakness. “Please don’t just go back to him because you’re mad at me. You don’t know what he’ll--”

“He won’t do anything to me, Rafael,” You rolled your eyes.

“B-But you don’t even love him anymore--” He stammered.

“MAYBE I DO!” You screamed angrily.

“W-What?” Rafael gasped.

“Billy left me, Rafael,” You started to cry.

“I didn’t leave him. Yeah he hurt me, he broke my heart. But--” You looked up at the sky, really hating to admit this to him. “But I never stopped loving him,”

“....Well he doesn’t love you,” Rafael’s face now turned to a deep dark scowl. “He told me that himself,”

“Oh, did he?” You rolled your eyes, licking back your tears.

“He did,” Rafael’s voice was now eerily calm and quiet.

“He said that he stopped being in love with you a long time ago, that he wanted to kill you. The only reason he didn’t is because he didn’t want to upset your daughters!”

“That’s not--” You shook your head.

Maybe it was true, but maybe he just wanted to kill someone, not you. Sure it wasn’t the greatest argument, but right now it was all you had. You weren’t about to concede to Rafael right now, not after all the bullshit that just went down.

“He said the only reason he doesn’t want me with you is because he doesn’t like people touching his ‘things’!” He went on. “He called you a THING, Y/N. Not his wife, not a person, a THING,”

“Shut up,” You growled.

“He’s just manipulating you, Y/N,” He kept a stern tone. “He’s playing you so that he--”

“So that he can what, Rafael?” You cut him off. “Go back to killing people? You don’t think he’s been doing that already? Or what, do you think he’s going to come back after your lady love?”

“She’s not my--”

“He’s not stupid, Rafael,” You spat.

“He obviously knows I know who, or--what, he is now. He knows that if he starts going on ‘business trips’, that I’ll know. He’s holding himself accountable now. Now you tell me, why would he do that if he didn’t love me? If he didn’t love our family?”

“..I….” Rafael tried to rack his brain for some sort of logical reason, any logical reason.

“Because he still wants to get to me,” Olivia added like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Oh shut up, you twat,” You flipped her the bird.

“I said he’s not stupid. He’s not going to come after you, risk going back to prison. Or y’know, risk getting murdered by you,”

“I am not a murderer!” She stomped her foot.

“No, you’re just a sadistic, manipulative, evil wench,” You barked.

“You think Billy just wants me for himself, Rafael?” You half laughed while now addressing him. “What the fuck do you think she wants with you?”

"That's not--" Rafael tried to defend Liv again, but you weren't done.

“You say that I’m the one in danger, I’m the one who’s the with the psychopath, but look in the mirror,” You stared daggers into her.

“Maybe we’re just both attracted to monsters,” You bit the side of your cheek. “Maybe that’s our fatal flaw. Maybe we were never supposed to be together,”

“No,” Rafael shook his head and grabbed your hands before you could pull away. “No that is not true, don’t you ever say that,”

“Why not?!” You cried.

“Because I love you, Y/N,” He started to cry himself. “I know--- I know it looks bad, and I’m-- I’m sorry that we’re on opposite ends of this, but--” He paused, trying to compose himself.

“I may be upset with you, but that doesn’t mean that I stopped loving you. I will never stop loving you, you have to believe me,”

“Yeah well,” You broke free from his grasp, shaking your head with a sarcastic laugh, sobs dripping in your words.

“Maybe that’s the problem, Rafael. I don’t believe you,” You walked backwards towards the door.

“We’re done,” You turned on your heels and bolted out the door before you could break down sobbing in front of them. You wouldn’t give Olivia the satisfaction.

----------

“...You realize we’re going to have to go after her now, right Rafa?”

“Just--” Rafael put his hands over his face. “Just give me a fucking minute, Olivia,”

“But she--” Olivia’s words were cut off by Rafael’s phone going off.

UNKNOWN NUMBER

“No…” Rafael’s eyes widened. “No there is no way he could--”

“Answer it!” Olivia cried. Rafael put it on speaker.

“....Hello?”

“Damn Barba, you make this way too easy, it’s almost not fun anymore,”

“Lewis,”

“See, here I thought my wife’s little crush on you would deter her from believing me, but you just sent her running back into my arms,”

“You--”

“Actually I guess I should be thanking the good detective there, eh Olivia?”

“You son of a--”

“Hey, don’t get mad at me here, fire crotch,” He chuckled. “You should be thanking me,”

“And why’s that?” She asked warily.

“I just gave you what you’ve always wanted,” They could hear the evil smirk in his voice.

“...Excuse me?”

“Your little papi there?”

“How can you see--?” Both Olivia's and Rafael's eyes darted around his office, focusing on the huge window behind his desk.

“I have my ways, Livvie,” He chuckled darkly. “You know that,”

“Can we back up here?” Rafael chimed in. “What the fuck are you talking about, Lewis?”

“Rafael, he’s just--” Olivia tried to dismiss it.

“Ohhhh, he doesn’t know, does he Olivia?” Lewis asked in an amused tone.

“....Know what?” Rafael raised an eyebrow at Olivia.

“Well,” He chuckled even more sinisterly. “Let’s just say counselor, when I ‘allegedly’ tortured your little lady there,”

“Don’t,” Olivia warned.

“....It wasn’t some relative she was crying out for,” His words dripped with evil amusement as he revealed Olivia's dark secrets.

“...What?” Rafael now looked at Olivia with shock and awe. How had he never seen this?

“Rafael, he’s just saying things to get to you,” Olivia tried brushing him off, but the guilty look on her face was giving her away.

“Oh really? Am I? Tell me you’re not elated that I’ve just cleared the way for you right now, detective. Say that with a straight face while you look into papi’s eyes,”

“You’re sick,” Olivia sneered.

“That wasn’t a denial, Oliva,” Lewis pointed out.

“Oliva, come on--” Rafael said in frustration. How could this be spinning into such a soap opera shit show?

“So maybe you should listen to my wife, counselor,” His evil voice taunted them.

“Maybe you both need to be with your monsters, let nature take its course,” He licked his lips on the other end, eating up the pain he was causing.

“Because if you don’t, I promise you won’t like the results,”

“Lewis I swear to God--” Rafael growled.

“ Now if you’ll excuse me, I do believe the missus is on her way home to me right now. And I wanna give her a hell of a welcome home,” He chuckled one more time before the line went dead.

“Son of a--” Rafael threw his phone across the room angrily.

“Rafa,” Olivia said softly, nervous about the conversation they just had.

“Liv,” He put a hand up. “You need to leave,”

“What did I do?!” She put her hands on her hips.

“Nothing, I--” He sighed. “I just can’t look at you right now,”

“...Fine,” Olivia nodded, not wanting to push the issue right now.

She quietly walked out of the office, leaving Rafael alone. As soon as she was gone, he ran over to his desk and sat in his chair, breaking down into sobs.

What the hell was he going to do now?

#rafael barba angst #rafael barba #rafael barba x you #rafael barba x sonny carisi #william lewis #william lewis x you #william lewis x reader #william lewis angst #rafael barba imagine #so i married a monster #olivia benson #elliot stabler #law and order svu fanfiction #william lewis imagine #william lewis fanfiction

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chaos-caffeinated · 4 years ago

Text

Emotions can help you remember Part 3 (Sebastian Michaelis x reader)

Okay this is it, those words say everything you need to know, enjoy!

update: Oct/06/2020: To compensate for the part, I completed the story.

Like I said -did I even say it?- I am an overachiever...and a sucker for plot

Not requested (Tagging @naniky)

NSFW/T - 18+

Smut, lemon

One more thing: Do not forget I am not the only author, my brother and I share this blog for the sole reason of creating content together as well as maintaining an easy access to our stories. Just look under #caffeine for more stories from him, the media he does, previous works, requests/commissions/, and what he is willing to write and not write.

Okay, NOW onto the story: Enjoy!

I wrote this part incredibly long that I just had to make another part, which will be uploaded in the next hour (October 31, 1pm). If you would like to be reminded, just click on the button on the top right corner (if mobile) and select “get notified”.

“Though it’s good, it’s not fluent enough. Again.” Sebastian ordered, his facial expression was laced with the strictness of his voice. His eyebrows were knitted behind his delicate oval glasses that were chained for easy access. He held a short whip that caught your attention each time he smack it onto his hand, sometimes wondering to ask him if it hurt to whip himself.

Flinching from the sound, you involuntarily let out a whimper before gazing at the text before you, “Ce soir, je serai donné à l’obscurité, je n’ai que moi-même au prince des ténèbres. Oh Crow permettent à mon corps d’aider dans votre plaisir que votre vie s’est propagée avec la douleur que l’humanité comme elle l’a-a...a...^1” You felt burned out, your voice no longer being able to read off the text that Sebastian had you reading, emphasizing the importance of pronunciations.

Sebastian, on the other hand, was enjoying the moment you were casting yourself off to him, simply smiling behind his façade of strict teacher. Once you finished your speech you would his for the night, but he flinched when you stuttered towards the end, his attention towards you made him realized you looked tired, “Sebastian...I’m sorry, but I...I am so tired...French is not my strength, I am so sorry.” You gazed downwards, too ashamed to even look at him in the eye. You felt the constraining corset shift underneath as you crossed your arms, disappointed at yourself.

Before he could sigh subtly, his brain had racked up the idea to try something. He smirked widely, his eyes glinting the mischief with the intertwined lust.

“It is unfortunate, Miss. (L/N), but you have four days before the ball, and I’m sure you want Miss. Hopkins to be delighted upon your return without a language barrier, right?...”

“...Y-yes.” You confirmed, saddening at the fact that you may potentially be upsetting her.

“Well then, I hope you realize I have a couple tricks under my sleeve, however, some may deem it as unorthodox because of its-” he used the thin stick in his hand to whip the desk, his free hand placed on the mahogany desk leaning over slightly, hovering over your body. Your head whipped upwards where you immediately came face to face with the handsome butler/tutor, to which your cheeks were tinted with a slight pink hue from the closeness between you.

“Physicality.” He finished with a smirk, “Of course I need your permission, but time waits for no one my lady.” He adds as he rose the tip of baton from in-between your collarbones up to your chin with a light tap. You subconsciously tipped your head back lightly in response to the baton to which he responded with a subtle smirk. When you heard his sultry voice, you almost swore to hearing a purr at the end.

Entranced by his proximity, you gulped subtly and let out your respond:

“Yes....Sebastian.”

“Then we shall start immediately.” And he closed in by pressing his lips against your lips, one second secure and passion, the next dominant and rough. You let out a soft meek as you were trying to push against him, but he was strong. You sensed he wanted more, hence why he was rough enough to lean you back.

He removed himself, smirking and revealing the fang as he lick his lips lightly, “I hope you are ready, Miss. (L/N), for I am not lenient.” And he stood up, “Stand.” He commanded, raising the baton to visually represent his command as you obeyed.

You watched as he made his way behind the desk, but you looked ahead as you were afraid of anything sudden.

He made his way to where you sat and the chair scraped along the floor.

“Sit.” He ordered, and you sat down to an unfamiliar seat when you realized the firmness and slight shift underneath. You blushed as you realized you sat on his lap.

You trembled softly as you felt as he placed his hands on your hips as he adjusted both of you, “You will read and translate the words I point, if you fail, I will punish you accordingly. Ready?”

You nodded, “Yes, S-Sebastian.”

With a smug look, he pointed at a word of ease to get you comfortable. This went on for a couple dozens of words before he began to challenge you: adding feathery touches to your back, causing you to flinch.

“And this one?...” He leant by your ear, his voice having a slight rasp as he ushered.

While his gloved finger lightly traced your back, your body shivering from the touch, your voice faltered from it, “Uhm...eh...p-plaisir^2...”

“A stutter, Miss. (L/N)? When the ball is in session, I’m sure you’ll have someone like this as well. You can’t be distracted with this simple touch.” He took his forefinger and traced down your spine, making your cheeks blush again from the vulnerability.

“...S-so what’s my punishment, then?...”

“You want to be punished? Hm~...I’ll speak two paragraphs in French and you’ll translate them.”

Groaning as you had trouble listening and understanding, you took a deep breath and sighed, “Fine...”

“Good. Now...Dès que je t’ai posé les yeux, j’ai étré enchanté par ta beauté. J’avais espéré que vous travaillions pour Mlle Hopkins, et vous avez fait votre preuves devant elle ainsi que le jeune maître; talentueux et belle, je te voulais. Je vous ai dans mes mains, votre cœur bat vite, votre corps est à la chasse d’eau- Je sais que vous me voulez tout aussi bien, et à tout moment vous vacillez dans vos leçons Français, je vais m’assurer que vous souvenez de mes mains, mon corps, ma voix. Vous ne m’oublierez jamais aussi bien que la belle langue de Français.^3“

You couldn’t concentrate while he was caressing your back. Images flashed in your mind and you were shy to even have them possessed into your brain. You were fantasizing about being fondled, his hands caressing in other places, to have your own hands running through his raven locks. You wanted it all. However, when he spoke you understood some wording, his distinct pronunciation brought the sense of familiarity which gave you the confidence to translate his message, making you blush in the process as you processed the message.

The more you spoke, the more Sebastian grew with anticipation. As you finished, he had held your hip, without moving his digits and whispered into his ears, “Good, now for a reward. (Y/N). Tell me, are you in any way against of my teachings?”

“...N-no...” you shyly confessed, “Please...keep it going...I do believe it’s helping me.”

His smirk widen, enough to reveal the fangs, “Good.” He whispered, “Then from now on...nous parlons dans Français ^4.”

(From this point on, it will all be english, I promise. I just thought this was fun)

You let out a gasp when he rose his hands, groping your breasts as his lips grazed on the back of your shoulders; he let out whispers you were able to catch, only to respond with the same whispered voice. Each word he spoke out you would be given a kiss from his soft, yet rough lips onto your warm flesh. His hands lingered over your breasts, his fingers rubbing your clothed-areolas triggering them to harden.

“Tell me how are you feeling, (Y/N). Describe it.” He pulled back his hands as he teasingly, irritatingly, slowly removed your dress to expose your soft skin to his greedy mouth and hands. He removed his gloves to expose his black nails and the Faustian contract that linked his current master and him as property as he was currently ready to devour a mortal body in front of him, “Tell me, (Y/N)...what do you want me to do to you?”

“I...I feel like...my skin is on fire, like I want more just to get rid of it, but...but I like it...I like the feeling of your hands on me...I never want it to stop... I know I want more, I want to feel you everywhere...” You let out shaky breaths as you tried to muffled your moans in, your chest heaving as you gazed down to see his right hand placed on your abdomen area and you gently grabbed it, leading it back to your breast. His touch alone was driving you wild, craving for more as you tried so hard to hold back; believing that you were strong only to fall back.

Sebastian hummed in response, "Then so be it." Where his hands were located, he easily held you down while bucking his hips, earning a few mewls from you, and your head lulling back as your chest arched forward. You hated how your body betrayed your logical side, falling into the temptation that you thought you had handled, but it was only destroyed from his presence, from his words, from his eyes.

He bunched up the skirt so your clothed womanhood would be pressed against his clothed bulge, your moaning raised slightly to place your hands on the top of the desk, immediately interrupting the craze. You were panting, you were blushing, you were craving for more of his hot touches that got your body to get tingles, “...It is overwhelming...how is it that your so good to get me so desperate like this?...You are like the devil everyone warns to stay away from...” You attempted to take control of your body again, but you felt something pressed against you as you not only felt a hand on your hip, but another placed in front by your hand.

Sebastian was even more entranced, while you felt he was responsible for your craze, he blamed you for his craze towards you. Other people would feel guilt while in the bliss of pleasure, others feel a sense of betrayal for their partners, others feel used when the Head Butler of Phantomhive seemed to be intriguing enough to have his attention, but when there isn’t a direct order from Ciel to gather information, to get them to cooperate, he feels a sense of ferality since his interest is purely internal. His plans were to make you his; you can be feisty, you can be yourself, he was most amazed that a simple being such as yourself can manage to stir a demon with their core motivations. He just wanted you, but there were instances where he believed he was doing this because he was to be yours, and that did not sit well with him, which is why he would do everything to get you to submit to him first.

When Sebastian stood up, the chair sliding back, he pressed against you, "Are you scared of me?" He whispered into your ear, "Because I can assure you that even the devil can open your eyes to reality...” He taunts as he raised his hand to caress your exposed arm with his fingertips then grazing them with his black nails before placing on top of yours, interlacing with your fingers.

You whined desperately, turning your head slightly to glance at Sebastian who was smirking. Once again your flesh burned with passion as you feel him start discard your undergarments, the idea that you two were getting closer and closer to bond was filling you up with anticipation, with more shivers down your back. What surprised you was to see each piece of your dress in front of you as he asked you what they were called: he wanted you to continue to learn despite the situation you two were in.

"What is this?" He asks as he takes off each material. You grunted as he was testing your French by having you name every single material. Each time he removed something he would ask you and it was getting annoying. It was torture, hell, trying so hard not rip anything apart to get closer to become one.

After what felt like an eternity of hell of torture, you were naked in front of him. You realized how vulnerable you were in the position, offering yourself to the Head Butler of the Phantomhives and that made you cower slightly. Trembling, you tried to close up when you felt two soft hands placed on your back.

"Such a magnificent body you have, it's no wonder why everybody else wants you. Beauty like this deserves to be shown off...,but at this moment, and moments like these...you are mine alone." He whispered to you only, his ushered tone had a growl towards the end, like a predator growling in victory towards its prey. His fingers trailed up your back to the nape of your neck and held it in place as the other groped your breast.

You wondered when he had the opportunity to unbuckle his pants, but you shivered once you felt the head of his cock rubbing against your clit, a wanton moan releasing as your body pressed against him almost out of instinct.

"Mmm, desperate for more?~" Sebastian teased as he smirked devilishly, holding you in place as he rejected to further your pleasure.

"Please....please, Sebastian." You begged, tearing up, "Please..." you panted as you swayed your hips in an attempt to tempt him further.

Sebastian smirked and remained like that only to hear and see you move less and less. You tried waiting patiently, tried, but you simply closed your eyes and imagined the scenarios that made you blush. As you imagine him, your thoughts were quickly interrupted as he guided you to bend over the desk as he held your hips, "Distracted yet again, Miss. (L/N), my my. You are one persistent student, aren't you?" He snapped his hips towards, his cock rubbing against your entrance which startled you, "Patience 'will get you anywhere and everywhere', my dear." He reminds you before he proceeded to enter.

As you stiffened from the pressure of his member stretching you, you let out a strained moan as your hands gripped the edge of the table. Even Sebastian groaned subtly as you tightened around him and he calmly rubbed your back in a soft manner, "...W-was...Was this your first time?" He caught his breath as he eased the thrusting by removing himself until the hilt.

You involuntarily let out a breathy moan as he returned, thrusting in a steady pace. Each thrust felt more good and pleasurable than the last before you your hips pressed back against him. You even arched your back as you press back to feel his hips slap against you. The pace was increasing ever slightly, his breaths were audible as he let out breathy moans with your vocal ones. He had an immense grip on your hips that bruises were going to appear, but you didn’t mind. You would have to deal with that in the near future, at the moment you getting taken care of very good by the butler.

Sebastian let out a soft chuckle as he removed himself and proceeded to sit on the chair. You gasped and whined from frustration when you looked over your shoulder to see him sitting, his erection was resting against abdomen; the image alone was an unholy sight, for he had achieved his core motivation.

The way his hand rolled over to curl his finger into a “come hither” motion made you and your body responded by flowing with his hand. You turned around and watched as he accommodated his sitting position for you to sit on him once again. Facing forward, you rested your knees beside his thighs and remained uplifted as you stared into his enchanting crimson red eyes. His smirk widen -his bloody smirk- as he leaned forward to nip at your flesh. His arms entangled you in an embrace, but he held you down; he had successfully trapped you fully, he had you, not the other way around he thought you intended.

You took a deep breath as you felt him once more, but this time it felt different. The way he held you, the way he gazed into your eyes as your back arched and your head leaned back, mindlessly staring at the ceiling. He leaned forward once again only to lick at your mounds and made suckling motions over your harden nipples. His right arm wrapped around your waist and held you down as he thrusted into you unexpectedly with a steady speed.

Moaning and instinctively placing your hands through his raven locks, you tilted your head down only to look straight into his devilish eyes. He pulled away from your nipples as you tugged at his locks; his eyebrows twitched subtly as they furrowed slightly; lips were agape as he panted softly. There were sweat beads decorating his pale face as he let out soft moans, your blush darkening from the mysterious man himself,

“Are you e-enjoying the view, Miss. (L/N)?” He asked in his best attempt of a flustered tone, “You’ve gone back to your head once again, and just how would you feel good if trapped in there?” He bucked his hips which made you buck your hips in response. He pulled your body at an angle which trigger a hyper vocal activity, even your hand left his hair to cover your own mouth, closing your eyes to sense him intensely than before. There was an intense tingling sensation as your body took over control to reach their goal too.

As the speed and pressure built up, you had the courage to not only sit back up, but wrap your arms around his neck, curving forward so your mouth latched onto his neck, biting into it as he stiffened from the sudden move.

You had reached a point that you desperately wanted to increase the speed from how close you were, grinding against him; knowing him already, you were the one that had to obtain it instead of asking.

Sebastian was completely thrown off guard from the bite, his nails puncturing your skin as he stood up with you in his arms and laid you on the top of the desk, his hands gripping on your thighs, bruises would be appearing in a while, but he didn’t care as he aid in your goal, “A naughty girl indeed..” He panted, his eyes darkening, “Marking me in such a way is unforgivable...now I have no choice to reciprocate your feelings-”

Before you can even comprehend his intentions, you felt a sharp pain on your shoulders, your back arched forward as you cried out in pain, “S-sebastia-”

A hand covered your mouth, your voice muffled as he moaned as well into your shoulder.

As you came onto his girth member, he remained still as he tried to hold off, even his body shivered from the denial- the torture he put himself into when he purposely holds himself from pouring his pleasure into you. As your body shivered and bucked into the pleasure, you simply held onto him as you rode out your orgasm, the sensation of the building pressure continue to overwhelm, the feeling of pushing him off whilst holding him close was a dilemma.

As your eyes closed, you can feel him shift, you hear the rustling of clothes in a quick, yet slow manner. Instead of the clothes, you focused on yourself: your legs slightly shaking, your chest heaving as you breathed heavily, your cheeks burning, your body freezing from the sweat that had gone out to refresh you from the hot man in front of you.

Slowly, you opened your eyes to see him dressed up already. His deep red eyes maintained fixed on you as he fixed his tie, his smirk plastered on his facial features, “Miss. (L/N), I do believe the lesson over for now, I think it’s best for you to rest.” He offered his hand towards you while you just had come down from the high. You felt queasy, but it wasn’t it. No, you felt lighter, you felt fresh for some reason. Could the taboo act made you much bolder, could it have made you more experienced?

“...My dress.” You managed to croak out in English, your voice sounded hoarse and you blushed from embarrassment as your hand hovered over your mouth.

“Oh my...I think overstepped my boundaries a bit, my apologies my lady, I will prepare some tea to soothe your voice...We don’t want our lesson to go to waste.” He spoke in a matter-of-fact. You blushed as you averted your eyes from his as you nodded, “Y-yes...”

“Yes?” Sebastian’s eyebrow quirked slightly which you quickly corrected, “I mean, ‘Oui, monsieur’.”

When you saw him smile in a satisfied manner, you nearly sighed in relief, but you were now flustered and quiet from the ‘lesson’ that he performed to help you learn French. Without a doubt it left an impression you, an act of intimacy and vulnerabilities in a lovemaking surely stirred things up to help you remember words -events- more effectively.

While you were thinking, Sebastian helped you back in your dress, “I have to say, I didn’t know of such a strong bite from you, my lady. It was certainly an eye-opener.” He explained as he helped with a few items. When he got to the corset, he lifted you onto your feet and turned you around, “Hopefully you don’t forget about our time like...this” he whispered as he guided his hands across your abdomen which you instinctively let out a breathy moan, “Y-yes...I’m sure I’ll never forget about the event...” you stabled yourself as he pulled on the corset only to make you gasp from how tight he was pulling.

After a couple minutes, you both cleaned up the area and headed to your room to rest. Your voice felt raspy, nearly gone. When a surprise visit from Ciel caught your attention to ask about your lessons, Sebastian intervened for you, “I apologize young master, but realizing that Miss. (L/N) is tight on schedule for the ball, I had a trick under my sleeve to ensure she would capture the lesson, but...I believe I was too harsh on her.” He smirked lightly which you forced yourself to nod.

“...L-lost my voice a bit...” you confirmed, “But it’s not like a cup of tea won’t help.”

Ciel nodded slightly, glaring at Sebastian, “I’m sorry as well, I know Sebastian can be too rash with his studies, but if he does it again you can tell me. I’ll be in my office if needed- Sebastian, I want cake when you’re finished.” and he proceeded to walk to his study room.

“Yes, my lord.” Sebastian responded before guiding you to his bedroom.

“Couldn’t have been more obvious?”, You bit as you rested your hand on your neck.

Sebastian chuckled behind his fist as he arrived to the room, opening the door for you, “If you wanted me to, I could have.”

“You really have no shame, Mr. Michaelis, but please...I ask that you keep this our secret...I don’t want you to get in trouble as well as I...” You asked of him as you entered the room to sit on the bed.

Sebastian placed a hand over his chest as he leaned forward wit his eyes closed, “As you wish, I will keep it between us.” He stood up once again with his eyes open halfway.

You smiled small as you leaned against your hands behind you, “You’re so...intriguing Sebastian. One moment you are a shadow, the next...uhm, you are almost a beast, and right after that you are....back to a shadow- how?...” You sat up, “I’m...beyond tired- very tired- and you are still up and going to complete your duties.”

Unnecessary to withhold his smirk, his half-lid eyes glanced on your way, “Your observational skills never cease to overwhelm me, Miss. (L/N), however..” his voice got more stern as he got closer, “ I have mentioned before that if you look into someone, you might regret it later, so I advise you my lady to keep at bay..”

The closer he got, the more you look up to stare into his eyes, challenging him, “Temptation rises when provoked, so I suggest you stop provoking me, Mr. Michaelis. Because we...intertwined in a forbidden act, you opened the doors to temptation, my... I even have to take care of myself in order to walk through those doors again...”

The corners of his lips curved slightly, Sebastian took your statement into consideration, but as entertained as he was to continue this conversation, his duties in the manor made him realize he had to cut it short, “I do have a few ways to cure that, my lady.” he suggested, his tone completely changed from the previous ominous tone to the mischievous one he possessed earlier.

“Keep your tricks in your sleeve, please. I’m already exhausted from...your lesson there.” You huffed with a flustered face as you avoided eye contact once again. However, you failed to realize just how close he gotten. He reached out to your chin and pulled you close to him, “My lady, I have many tricks under my sleeve that I am not afraid to show you...four days is all I need.” He smirked darkly as he pulled away with a cheerful smile as he closed his eyes for the moment one again, “I will be right back with the tea as promised. In the meantime, please do relax and rest your voice...madam.” he added and proceeded to close the door behind him.

He left you speechless, knowing full well that his tricks were just promises ready to occur.

When Sebastian reached to the kitchen, he couldn’t help but rest against the door for a moment. After taking a deep breath, he chuckled darkly as he placed a hand over his face, “Sweet, sweet (Y/N), you drive me into a deep craze.” The hand hovered the side of the neck you bit him at. He was serious when he said you had a strong bite, and it wasn’t just that of muffling your moans. He strolled over to the counter and took out a knife to use as a mirror. He lowered his collar and managed to see a bruised bite-mark on his neck. His smirk widen and he clicked his tongue as he placed down the knife, “You’re a feisty one; I admire that.” He smiled darkly as he removed his coat to prepare the young lord his dessert.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~4 Days later~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The music was soft and inviting, a subtle siren in your head to set the atmosphere of the ball. It was a slow drag from the violins which gave you strength to take a deep breath and walk forward to the crowd whom were laughing.

Ciel was conversing with a man -the truth being the other way around-, commenting and opinionating of events that bore the young master to a tremendous level, but he remained to act as if he was in interest to the best of his ability to focus on capturing a special guest. When the nobleman excused himself after recognizing an acquaintance, Ciel called forward Sebastian who stood behind him, “Sebastian, keep an eye on Miss. (L/N) and anyone she is speaking with, there may be a chance that she’s talking with him at this moment-” as he gave him his order, Ciel spotted you with someone casually talking in French. He stood there slightly impressed at your proficiency and commented instead, “Miss. (L/N) has a lot of confidence with her French, she even looks different from before.”

Sebastian smiled with his eyes closed as he respond, “Thank you my lord, it took a little more effort due to the time restraint, but additional teachings were added to ensure proficiency.”

Ciel eyed him for a moment, “Additional teachings? It didn’t involve something like close proximity did it?” He asked with a near disgust that his demon butler would go that far, but not surprised if he revealed the information.

Placing a finger over his lips, Sebastian responded, “Miss. (L/N) has asked me not to disclose any information regarding our situation young lord, but that should already tell you.”

Ciel’s eyebrow twitched before releasing a sigh, “...Unfortunately, it did.”

When he turned back to look at you, he audibly gasped when he didn’t see you there anymore, “Sebastian, track her.” He ordered with a slight urgency in his voice,

Bowing his head, Sebastian replied, “yes, my lord.” and he walked from his master to find you.

While the dynamic duo were talking, you were having a conversation with someone that was visiting a friend. It became so casual and so friendly that the two of you had walked over to the table to take a few pieces of snacks.

His name was Jacque Arias, born into a family that dealt with the fabric industry in South France, you thought having a good friendship with him would help Miss. Hopkins with future business after you explained to him that you worked as a tailor for her.

As you took a drink from your glass, he spoke: “I am so relieved to finally have something to go to, if I had to stay in the office one more night I would have gone insane.”

“So you like parties to distract yourself from work?”

He nods, “Yes, and to meet lovely ladies that could potentially be my future wife, like yourself.” He smiled small with a slight tilt of his head.

You blushed from hearing this, stiffening slightly, “Searching for a wife? Me? Surely you gist, sir. I am merely just a tailor intern.” You explain to him, ‘At least for the time being, I like having those small arguments with Sebastian,’ you admitted in thought.

He reached forward to your hand only to caress, "A beautiful intern no less-...it maybe my imagination, but perhaps the party has tire me out. Shall we go somewhere more...silent? Somewhere we can be more intimate?"

You were ready to say no, already losing the interest of a business partner potential. If he wanted to marry you, for some reason you felt it was your choice to choose, and you wanted to choose someone that perhaps wasn't necessarily available to be taken, and you responded, "I don't want to offend you, but-"

He took your hand in his and lightly started guiding you out, "Then let's enjoy nature together." He suggested, "I...I don't-" You glanced around to see the mysterious man himself offering glasses to the guests, but he also glanced at your way. You noticed the faint smirk before he tilted his head forward, 'Go.' You felt him say before he went back to attend with the rest of the guests.

Almost feeling your body going light, you then followed the man ahead of you with a light smile.

It was chilly, your skin shivered to make some warmth, "Are you cold? I'll call up my carriage." He offered as he took off her coat, "In the meantime, here." He placed the coat over your shoulders, "I'll be right back." And he walked with a rushed speed.

You were surprised to see his nice side as he was going to get the carriage. You were suddenly curious about taking his offer, but you wanted to reject by the interaction at the table. Giving him the second chance to see him truly, you decided to wait outside than inside where it was warm.

Waiting patiently for a couple minutes, you felt your body shiver once again, but you subconsciously glanced around. You felt like someone was staring at you- stalking you. It felt uneasy for you, your hands tightening the coat around your body while you made your way back to the manor so you would at least be with someone before you spotted someone in pitch black. You almost called out his name until your eyes widen at the revelation.

While the ball was still in place and everyone was blissful at the moment, with the earl holding in his disinterest in people and balls overall, Sebastian kept a close connection with you. He immediately recognized the man you were with and knowing how humans seemed to be believe they were mated with one intense session, he just had to play the role of the silent lover, granting the permission for you to be with the next chaperone,

The atmosphere was filled with a wave of chattering, the laughter whether genuine or filled with arrogance, Sebastian could listen to all with depth. He listened to the piece played by the string quartet and multi-task with his butler duties. Suddenly, he heard a change in the quartet, a new piece was to be played and he listened.

The violins and violoncello were stroked rapidly in the next piece that it threw people off guard. They were not expected such an allegro tempo from the players: notes raised, dropped, the moments of silence, the notes raising a subtle anxiety from the audience even Sebastian felt it. He felt the anxiety, he felt -for a moment- his heart beating faster and faster and he turned to glance at the young master only for him to just watch the quartet as well. In that instant, he heard your panting with his demonic ears, it was the only thing that stand out from the silent crowd and the musicians ahead of him.

He strolled to the head of the family and bent over at his height only to whisper by his ear to prohibit eavesdropping. While Ciel watched ahead, his full attention was for the demon.

“Sebastian, I order you to find him and bring both of them back here after the ball.” He ordered with the ushered tone as the butler replied: “Yes, my lord.” before smirking at the slight liberation in his current state.

Previous Part/ Final Part

~Translations~

1: Tonight I will be given to the darkness, I have but myself to the prince of darkness. Oh Crow allow my body to help in your pleasure as your life has been done with the pain that humanity as it (cut out: brought/ apporté.)

2:Pleasure

3: “Good Now...”The moment I laid my eyes on you, I was enchanted by your beauty. I had hoped you worked for Miss. Hopkins, and you proved yourself in front of her as well as the young master; talented and beautiful, I wanted you.

I have you in my hands, your heart is beating fast, your body is flushing- I know you want me just as well, and at any moment you falter in your French lessons, I will make sure you remember my hands, my body, my voice. You will never forget me as well as the beautiful language of French is in your possession.”

4. we will speak in French

A/N: Tell me why I spent over 45 minutes searching the music sheet for the Diabolic Waltz and Danse Macabre (Can you blame me? It’s amazing work.) only to confirm or learn from parts where in the music because I am an overachiever and I go all out when I attempt to describe the music without being “the music played louder” come on, I didn’t spend two years in the marching band and be discriminated for being a woman and a semester in Music Appreciation in college for NOTHING- TEMPO, FORTE (Brother save me, this is my call for you to save me, this has gone way too far even for my own sake).

P.S. I am saying it again: Do not forget about my brother, Caffeine, he makes exclusive and waaaaay better stories than I. Just look under #caffeine for more of his content as well as a list of the media he covers for any requests/commissions.

#black butler #sebastian michaelis #sebastian michaelis x reader #sebastian michaelis smut #sebastian michaelis nsft #kuroshitusji #sebastian michaelis x reader smut #chaos

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aellynera · 4 years ago

Text

Beat the System (Poe Dameron x f!Reader; high school AU)

BEAT THE SYSTEM

My darling @autumnleaves1991-blog is doing a Writer Wednesday thing (click that link for details) and today’s challenge was:

...so I wrote this little thing. may or may not be based on things that might have somewhat happened during my years as a summer amusement park lackey.

Word Count: ~2100

Summary: You see a lot of people at your summer job, and you didn’t really want to see him or for him to see you, but that’s not how the system works.

Warnings: Female reader. High School AU. References to clowns. Complaining. Nothing else really, just a lot of fluff. As usual, mostly kind of proofread.

You kind of hated your summer job.

It wasn’t so much that you hated having to get a job in the first place, after your parents insisted that’s what you’d need to do if you wanted your own car. And the job itself was actually pretty easy, at least in theory.

The ring toss stand at the local amusement park was your domain. Your days were spent surrounded by giant stuffed elephants and aliens and teddy bears, taking money, handing out rings, watching people throw them at bottles. Ninety-nine percent of the time this also meant watching them lose. The losses generally led to another futile round of buying and tossing. And, invariably, cussing; never mind that this was a family establishment and there was a five-year-old standing three feet away from the offender.

No, it was the job on repeat for eight hours a day, five days out of the week. It was seeing all your friends come by and have fun while you literally had to watch them (but hey, at least you got paid.) It was having to work every single weekend. And it was all the people. People you’d known your whole life, people who lived in neighboring towns, busses full of people from who knows where that flocked to this place every single year.

And it was just weird to think of this place as a destination. It was just the amusement park that was there all your life, that your parents went to when they were in high school, and maybe their parents did too. This place was freaking old. But why people felt the need to come by the busload from hours away--

“Hey, I didn’t know you worked here.”

The voice broke through your ranting brain and you looked up to see a familiar face grinning back at you from the other side of the booth.

Poe Dameron was a senior. He was captain of both the football and the soccer team, treasurer of the student council, sang on the chorus, played bass in the jazz band, was in the drama club, and you were pretty sure there were at least a dozen other things he just did because he was good at everything.

He was also ridiculously hot and the last person you wanted to see you in your ridiculous, brightly colored work uniform. He stood before you looking like he just crawled off the cover of a romance novel, all tan skin and dark curls and defined muscles, and there you were with a high ponytail and baggy shorts and a shirt that would put a clown to shame.

Honestly, all you needed were the giant floppy shoes.

He was also there with a group of his rowdy, juvenile football friends, which only promised to make this hell even more scorching. At least for now, they seemed to be occupied with ogling the girl who ran the tilt-a-whirl across the path and completely ignoring you.

You scrunched your face at him. “Poe, I’ve seen you here like twenty times this summer. You’ve even played this game before. You know I work here.”

“Okay, you got me,” his grin didn’t falter. You weren’t sure, but it might have even gotten a little bigger. He handed over ten dollars. “A bucket of rings, please.”

Great, he was going to hang around. You glanced at your watch, and it solemnly informed you that your break wasn’t for another hour and half. So you were stuck there. In a virtual clown suit. With the hot senior you might have had a little crush on.

Not like you ever doodled his initials in your notebooks or on scraps of paper when the crowds at the stand died down. You denied all knowledge of these supposed incidents.

You could act like a normal person in his presence.

You sighed and took the money from him, handing him a bucket full of red plastic rings in return. “You know this game is rigged, right? They all are.”

“So I’ve heard.” He picked up his first ring. “But I am determined to beat the system.”

You rolled your eyes. “Do you have to be good at everything?”

Poe shot you a quick side-eye before turning his attention back to the sea of bottles in front of him. He tossed the first ring and it flipped end over end before bouncing off a bottle top with a spectacular ding! His brow furrowed as he reached for another ring.

“Apparently not,” he muttered. “But I’ll still beat it. You see, there’s this girl I want to impress, and…” He tossed the second ring and watched it ricochet off another bottle top.

“Of course there is,” you snorted. “There’s probably a whole horde of them.”

He chuckled. “Nope, just one.”

You waved your arm in a grand gesture toward the playing field. “Well then, have at it, Romeo. You know the rules. No leaning over the rail, and you have to land five rings to win. Let me know when you need another bucket.”

“Oh ye of little faith,” he replied as he tossed yet another ring. You tried, you really really tried, to ignore the way the tip of his tongue stuck out between his teeth as he concentrated.

And so it went until the entire bucket full of rings littered the floor of the stall, with nary a single one landing on its intended target. You grabbed the sweeper and started pushing them back into the bins underneath the counter.

Poe growled in frustration. “Seriously?!” He waved another ten in your direction and you handed him another bucket, giggling as you made the exchange.

“I told you, it’s rigged. But…” you crooked a finger to motion him closer. And then tried to remember how breathing worked as he leaned in, now just inches from your face.

“Yeah?” he whispered.

The attempt to subtly clear your throat was only half successful.

“Well, I didn’t tell you this,” you pointed toward the bottles, “but the table is slightly higher on that side, and so is that one part in the middle. If you aim for those bottles, you can probably bounce the rings onto the lower ones.”

The grin he flashed almost blinded you. “Beat the system.”

“Beat the system,” you agreed.

You leaned back and watched. After the first six rings or so, Poe seemed to figure out which bottles to aim for and how to toss the ring (with a bit of spin, of course) and before you knew it, his fifth ring landed on the center bottle and he was shouting “yes!” with a little fist pump.

“I am impressed, Dameron,” you said, clapping. “I bet this girl will be too.”

“I hope so,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. Did he suddenly look kind of shy? No, that wasn’t Poe Dameron. He was the polar opposite of shy.

“Which one?” you asked, pointing to the prizes hanging above you.

“Which one would you pick? If you just beat the system and you were trying to impress someone?”

“Uhhh…” Why in the world was he asking you? It didn’t matter, this was his deal, you just worked there. And quite honestly, you probably wouldn’t pick any of these monstrosities. They were huge. And kind of weird looking. And neon colored.

After a few moments of confused contemplation, your eyes finally landed on a giant purple teddy bear, half hidden behind a chartreuse alien and an orange thing that was trying to impersonate an octopus. You pulled it down and handed it over.

“Here you go, the least weird thing you just spent twenty bucks on when you could have just gone to the mall and bought something more reasonable.”

“Nah, this is perfect,” Poe replied, grabbing the bear. It was nearly half as big as he was. You often wondered how anyone dragged them around the park for the rest of the day, much less managed to get them home. “Thanks for the advice.”

You couldn’t help the smirk that rose on your lips. “It was either that, or have to explain to my supervisor why you would have ended up hanging around until the park closed.”

He laughed loudly. “Rey would have understood. She’s cool like that.”

“Geez, you’re good at everything, do you know everyone in the entire galaxy too?”

Poe didn’t seem to hear you, though, as he looked over his shoulder and around the area, and you followed his gaze. His friends were nowhere to be seen and vaguely, you wondered when they’d wandered off and why they hadn’t very loudly announced it to him. He glanced back at you with a sheepish smile.

“I, uh, I should go find the guys,” he said. “And let you get back to work.”

“Yeah, okay,” you replied. All of the easy-going rapport from the past however long Poe had been there suddenly evaporated and every ounce of awkwardness you normally felt around him returned. “I’ll see you.”

You might have been looking anywhere but at him, but you didn’t miss the small wave he gave you as he walked away, and you definitely felt the heat that rose in your cheeks.

Poe was quickly forgotten as a swarm of ten-year-olds rushed the stand and the incessant clanging of misthrown rings once again took over all your waking moments. You didn’t think about him for the rest of your shift. All you could think about was how tired you were, how hot the day had been, how much you wanted to shower and sleep and pretend you didn’t have to do this again tomorrow and--

Your feet ground to halt in the employee parking lot and approached your beloved car, the entire reason you had this forsaken job in the first place. Your car, which, you would have serious questions had you not known exactly where the thing came from, had a giant purple teddy bear sitting on the hood.

As you got closer, you could see something sticking out from beneath the bow tied around its neck. It was a slip of paper, with a phone number scrawled on it. And a little “P.” with a heart.

What was even happening right now.

Before you knew it, your phone was out of your purse and you were calling his number. Sure, you might have had to dial it four times because your nervous fingers kept pressing the wrong digits, but who was counting? And never mind that it was almost midnight. It was summer, he’d still be awake, right?

Finally you got it right, and the call picked up on the other end.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” you breathed.

“Hey,” you could picture the trademark Dameron grin behind it. And he sounded...relieved? “I’m really glad you called.”

“How did you get into the employee parking lot?”

“I didn’t. I asked Rey for a favor. I figured she might know which car was yours. Told you she’s cool like that.”

You laughed softly. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess she really is.”

“So I do have a really important question for you. Well, two actually.”

“I’m listening,” you said. It was hard to hear anything over how hard your heart was thumping in your ears, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Question one. Can I take you out on a date?”

“Yeah,” you said again and closed your eyes, partly out of a need to center yourself and mostly out of sheer embarrassment. Maybe one day, you would remember how to speak to Poe Dameron in multiple word sentences, but right at this moment was not that time. Oh well.

“Awesome,” he breathed out. “I was hoping you’d say yes.”

“Yes.” Thankfully he didn’t seem to be deterred by your current lack of language skills.

Poe laughed warmly. “Now, second question. Did it work?”

This time you couldn’t even come up with a verbal response. You just erupted in a bout of giggles, Poe Dameron laughing along with you. And somehow, you got that ridiculous monstrosity of a teddy bear into your back seat.

The somehows kept coming. Somehow you remembered how to use words. Somehow it was well after midnight now without either of you giving it permission to get that late. Somehow your phone refused to end the call. Somehow the hours were slipping by until you had to be at the park for an early opening shift in the morning, and somehow you suddenly didn’t care at all about getting any sleep.

Maybe this job wasn’t so bad, after all.

~end~

Taglist: @anetteaneta @autumnleaves1991-blog @be-the-spark-flyboy @deeandbobbymcgee @huxdameron @itspdameronthings @jitterbugs927 @nathan-bateman @poedjarin @rosemarysbaby13 @sergeantkane @spider-starry @woakiees @writefightandflightclub @veuliee2 @yourbucky084 @waatermelon-sugaar

Poe Dameron taglist: @millllenniawrites @the-fifth-marauder-03

>>join the taglist here<<

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe darmeron x you #poe dameron au #poe dameron high school au #au!poe dameron #au!poe #poe dameron fanfic #poe dameron fanfiction #writer wednesday #writing challenge #my writing #oscar isaac characters #oscar isaac character au

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spasmsofthought · 4 years ago

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rough waters (zuko x water tribe! reader)

Inspiration hit at like 3 am early this morning, but I didn’t get around to writing most of this until this evening. Technically, this can be categorized as a Part II to rituals. If you want more context to this pairing, read it first!

If there’s anything off about how I wrote this situation, please message me your feedback so I can fix it! I want to be sensitive.

I don’t know what it’s like to be a minority, or be a part of a group of people that has suffered destructive and violent oppression, since I’m white and American and have only lived in the US. I don’t know what it’s like to be a victim of prejudice, racism, misrepresentation or hurtful stereotyping because of the color of my skin or my background, or race. I took what my friends of color have spoken to me about when they have decided to open up to me and tried to honor their experiences and emotions and spaces in these words. I’m committed to be a safe space for them as I continue to educate myself in order to support them and fight for justice for them.

If in any way shape or form, you do not feel that my writing reflected that, please let me know! I want to write an accurate representation in the small writings I present here in this blog.

With all that said, I hope you all enjoy this piece!

Like, comment, reblog! xo

Next: Raw

While the Fire Nation palace was beautiful and ornate and architecturally captivating, staying cooped up inside had never been a virtue of yours. Especially considering your home growing up had been among the raging ocean and freezing snow.

So, when you found yourself with a break in-between hefty meetings with lecture after lecture on what your life was going to look like as the future Fire Lade, you figured going out to explore the market was a good idea.

Despite traveling back and forth from the Water Tribe to the Fire Nation before your engagement to Zuko, there had been little opportunity to spend much of your time among the common Fire Nation people. Your scarce time with Zuko, what with his duties and responsibilities, was spent in the safety of the Fire Nation palace feeding ducks or taking walks or exploring the library.

It was obvious that to gain his people’s respect and trust as their new leader, and a leader that had recently ended the very supported and celebrated war his grandfather had started a hundred years ago, Zuko actually had to do his job. He was left time for little else.

With the position of being securely part of his future, and the future of the country, freedom was granted to you on more occasions. Advisors had also pointed that it would be better for you to be spotted out and about every once and a while in order for people to see you and get the chance to interact with you. How could the people ever honor and respect you as their Fire Lady, especially one from another nation, if you remained so aloof and distant that they had to guess at almost every aspect of who you were?

Thus, an adventure to the market was in order.

A stall of fresh-looking fruit was the first to catch you eye after about half an hour of walking through the different sections of the city. You were walking down a branched path away from a main road, further away from the Palace than you had ever been before, when you saw it.

When officials had offered you to participate in tours of the country before, they tended to stick to the places of nobility and wealth. This area looked less cleaned up and more familiar to you, a bit more like your previous home in the Water Tribe. Gone were stoned walkways and polished-up homes; you know walked cobbled streets and homes that seemed to be built with less care towards aesthetics and with more mind placed on structure and space equity.

It wasn’t quiet like the upper villages that housed nobles and high-ranking government officials; it was beautifully less sterile. You keep your pace even, but it falters a bit as you see people from their doorways and windows watch you as you pass by. There are no smiles or friendly greetings. You try not to take it personally. You had been told from the beginning that here people choose to be reserved and stoic. Ahead of you, parents usher their children through their doorways and into their homes.

They’re just shy and wary, Your head whispers to you. You’ve never been in this part of town before.

You hear a soft echo of children’s laughter as the breeze ruffles your face, and you smile a bit as you stop in front of the fruit stall you eyed a few moments ago. You turn your eyes to examine the fruit that is laid out in categorized groupings. Apples, oranges, a few tomatoes, and fruit only specific to Fire Nation agriculture.

You pick up a red apple to get a better look at it and don’t even notice the old lady sweeping the ground, positioned more in the shadows, until she speaks to you.

“Those are expensive. And we don’t barter with foreign money.”

Her voice sounds frail, but one look at her betrays what her voice implies. Her skin is weathered, and her eyes worn by time and emotions that aren’t able to be clearly deciphered. For a moment, you figure that the war had to have had an effect on everyone, even those who dwelt in the nation that benefited from it the most.

“I’m sorry?” You ask, trying to get a sense of what she’s trying to get at.

You’re wearing Fire Nation robes, rich in color but otherwise not gaudy, and to the latest style of what’s currently acceptable for ladies in the Capitol. There’s nothing off about how you’re dressed or presenting yourself. You even made sure to put your hair up properly, without your beads just this once.

A show of solidarity, one Fire Sage said to you when they were leaving from the palace a few weeks ago and you had asked for some advice in how to move forward.

“What’s there to not understand about what I said?” The old lady snaps at you, muscles recoiled with tension. “We don’t trade with foreign money.”

The words are like acid to your stomach as the old lady looks directly in the eye. Her eyes drift down, and you inwardly curse; you forgot that you had on the betrothal necklace Zuko had given you just recently. Blue was not common in jewelry or as a color to wear in the Fire Nation, as you have come to know well.

The lady mumbles under her breath and begins sweeping the stall floor again, like she hasn’t even spoken, and you set the apple back down to its proper place among the others. She’s not even ashamed of her tone or at her lack of manners. It’s like she doesn’t even recognize who you are.

It hits you: Maybe she doesn’t want to.

There’s no point in explaining that you only carry Fire Nation money with you now; that all your Water Tribe coins are saved in a box that sits on your nightstand because you don’t know if you’ll ever use them again. You don’t know quite what to do with yourself.

You’ve known that this country has suffered under at least a hundred years of nationalistic propaganda warding people away from associating with any other nation and promoting Fire Nation exceptionalism. You’d known there would be challenges to marrying the Fire Lord as someone from the Water Tribe, but maybe not that you’d have to struggle with changing an entire nation’s perception of your people and culture. That you’d have to prove to everyone here that you are just as equal as them.

It’s obvious that the old lady is not going to speak to you again and wants nothing more to do with you. No one else is around for conversation or distraction either, so the choice to head back the way you came is an easy one.

You’re turning away from the stand when you hear the old lady say something under her breath. At first, it doesn’t register as you walk away, but the further away you walk, the clearer the word becomes.

“Savage.”

It sends shivers up your spine and almost leaves you heaving in the middle of the street, but you refuse to cower to a word. Even if it is a word laced with a century, or more, of malice and hatred and prejudice. Your walk back to the Fire Nation palace is both long and short at the same time.

It is hours later when Zuko finds you at the edge of a pond, watching the turtle ducks swimming around in it and fishing for food. It is secluded and quiet, and he has a few spare minutes he can spend with you without worrying about his duties as Fire Lord.

You don’t startle when he sits down next to you on the grass, but you are surprised he found a few minutes of escape from the constant responsibility and pressure that surrounds him. Usually it’s not until at least dinner time that he’s free.

He moves one of his hands towards both of yours, signaling that he wants to split the loaf of bread you’re feeding to the turtle ducks with him. For a moment it feels almost satisfying to rip something in half. You hand him one chunk while you cradle the other. There are a few minutes of silence as it seems Zuko decompresses and you try to retrain your rage and hurt and sadness from your interaction with the old lady.

Your mother always told you that keeping a calm face when everything is the opposite inside of you is like the ocean trying to be a wave when it’s actually a tsunami. You block the memory out and just try to enjoy the stillness and peace with Zuko. It’s not like he gets much time for either.

“When I was younger, I threw a whole loaf of bread at a baby turtle duck and the mother bit me.”

The thought feels a bit incomplete, like it’s bittersweet, but you don’t press him today. It’s better for him to talk halfway about memories than not talk about them at all with you.

You chuff out a laugh but otherwise remain silent. You rip off a small piece of bread and softly throw it into the water. Soon the turtle ducks are swarming around each other for more, but you pace out the chunks enough for there to be some bread left a minute later.

Zuko is tossing out a few chunks of his own as you begin to speak.

“Some old lady called me a savage in the market today.”

Again, silence greets you. But this time, it’s not about governmental officials rejecting your culture while designing the wedding ceremony. This time it’s about the fact that the person he is going to marry soon is being prejudiced against by the people he rules; the people you will also have a part in ruling in a small amount of time.

“She didn’t exactly say it to my face,” You say angrily as you toss the big chunk into the pond, scattering the turtle ducks, and standing up. The fury can no longer be ignored. “But it wasn’t even what she said, Zuko.”

Your growl at the same time as the tears well up and make their way down your cheeks. You’re tired of crying, but it’s one of the only ways your emotions are expressed. Zuko stays in his seated position as he watches you. Tenderness clouds his expression, but he’s also being observant.

As much as the Fire Nation teaches their people rigidity, your community, especially your parents, taught you that to deny yourself expression is to deny yourself freedom. Emotional expression is where your relationship struggles the most sometimes, due to the polar opposite cultural values and teachings. Silence in his, complete and full expression in yours. Sometimes it’s hard to find a balance. Moon and sun, right?

It’s in situations like these where Zuko really takes time to consider what he says.

“It’s what everyone doesn’t say,” You say, swiping at your eyes, trying to make the cursed water on your face disappear. Anger feels better right now than grief. “It’s the looks and the silence about it all from those here who say they care. Like complicity is the same as advocating. Why should I suffer for the one-sided education people experienced at the hands of those who wished to destroy the world in the name of nationalism and supremacy? It’s not fair and it’s wrong and I shouldn’t have to be stereotyped because of the things other people said!”

You huff as you throw your hands at the sky. There’s also a bit of a yell that comes out, and you’re thankful it’s only you and Zuko in this secluded part of the palace. You sigh as you make you way back down to sit next to Zuko. He glances at his hands before staring out at the water.

“I wish I could say things will be different, but they probably won’t be for a long time,” His time as the Fire Lord has given him wisdom he wouldn’t have otherwise. Although discomfort stews in your stomach, you know he’s right. He’s suffered from this too, in different ways.

“I know,” You say back at him, laying a hand on his clothed forearm. A hundred years of war has left the Fire Nation’s own people divided and prejudiced, never mind the rest of the world. You had gone through your own journey of dismantling your own prejudice about the Fire Nation when Zuko joined you, Sokka, Katara, Toph, and Aang in order to defeat his father.

“There is a long road of healing ahead of us, of me. I meant it when I said it the day of my coronation, and I still mean it now,” Your hand makes its way down to his, clasping it in a show of support. Zuko always means what he says. “There are changes I’m making, and while some of them are already being implemented, it’s going to take time for some of the others.”

“I know,” You whisper again, leaning your head on Zuko’s shoulder as you both stare out at the water. It doesn’t feel like peace that settles in your stomach; it feels more temporary and elusive, perhaps because it’s a foreign feeling to you.

It may not seem be solid, but you cling onto it for dear life. One of each of your hands is clasped together as you breath out slowly; the rage has settled now, but the pain seeps deep into your being. You know it’s going to be a while before it fades away into healing.

“Someday things will be different.” Zuko’s tone is soft as he rests his head against your own.

And you realize what is stirring in you: hope. Fragile and small, but still sitting there in your belly when all else seems bleak. It looks as if undoing it all will take more work than what it took to do all of it in the first place.

But as you and Zuko sit together and stare out at the calm little pond, a little oasis of tranquility, you can’t help but think, hope, that maybe, someday, even if it’s far into the future, things will be different.

#avatar the last airbender #avatar: the last airbender #avatar: tla #avatar zuko #prince zuko #zuko #zuko x reader #zuko x oc #atla #atla zuko #fire nation #water tribe #zuko one shot #zuko imagine #fire lord zuko

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readerinsertfanfiction · 4 years ago

Text

Love Denied

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku

Character: Mitsuhide Akechi

Prompt: Sometimes I get a random strike of inspiration when reading headcanons by others. This time this set of headcanons about a Rejected!MC and Jealous!Warlords inspired me to write this piece. Though, it isn’t as happy as the headcanons are. This one is rather cold and hurting.

A/N: I’m failing really hard at my SS countdown, but I just felt like writing something angsty for once? Been a while, so sorry to break the fluffy streak! Kyubei update coming Friday and I’m also still working hard on all of the other series should someone wonder. I’m still a multi-fandom blog despite all of the Ikemen nonsense I have been posting.

There was a cruelty within that came in the form of kindness. A gentle smile, forming polite words, the distance kept between. Mitsuhide knew well enough that these were all an act, that behind that small façade of gentility and tranquility there was a scrutinising mind just like his own. One that understood and had experienced the cruelty of the world, though not in the same amount, or even in the same manner, but enough so to understand and see through the façade of peace many held up and played along until time came near.

It was for that reason that the man had never expected you to develop these feelings professed now. Surely, he believed, you of all people surrounding them would understand why it was a bad idea to come to love him? The rumours suggested enough alone, but you didn’t need rumours to understand his smile and call it out for what it was. It was why he believed you had kept appropriate distance from him, or why he found it so easy to converse with you. For there was little need to hide any malice when both parties already was aware of that darkness in their character.

And yet you had uttered them, so very easily. With a smile on your face, looking more beautiful than usual, perhaps because of the sheer sincerity and openness in which you had presented yourself. Despite the vulnerability you had shown. You had stood in front of him and uttered these three exact words he had hoped for, longed for, but didn’t dare to express;

“I love you.”

A simple statement, sincere emotions and with anyone else Mitsuhide would have cruelly teased them, gotten up and close to ‘test’ out their feelings and see how much there would be left to remain were he to show himself at his darkest.

He didn’t. He knew he had no need to do that with you. You and him were alike in that matter, or so he had always understood. It was the reason for the distance between you. The reason why he could so easily converse with you. The very foundation for the pressed smiles exchanged and the polite façade that stood like a wall between. It was the tug-of-war between you two in which he tried to lure you out and in which you challenged him, the same competition in which he found that he returned the sentiments you shared but had decided never to express.

“I’m afraid someone like me is incapable of sincere emotions such as love,” he responded, knowing that he didn’t need that weakness, shutting down his heart, silencing the emotions welling up, telling his mind that this was for the best. There were a hundred arguments why it was so against the single wish that screamed loudest of all. He could do nothing with wishes. There was nothing but weakness in his emotions. Mitsuhide Akechi, self-proclaimed satori, crowned kitsune, needed none of that nonsense swirling around him that could work as a deterrent against his plans.

Before he could say more, before he could hammer down the last nail in which he was sure to destroy your feelings, you interrupted, never faltering as you raised your hand.

“I’m not confessing with that intention.”

The statement strikes him as strange, his eyes narrowing as the warlord wonders why you seemed so unusually strong despite having bared your heart right in front of him. Did you not fear the insult he would make of you? Did you not fear the pain of rejection?

The continuation of your voice supplied the answer he sought; “I want you to know, so that you are aware that my actions towards you might be insincere, for that’s what love is; insincere, pretentious, ugly and selfish.”

The smile flashed at him surprises him all the more, and for a moment the man has no idea how to react. Your feelings made him happy, the happiest man alive, but your dismissal of your emotions tore him up inside. He couldn’t disagree, for he found truth in the words, he agreed even, it was the sole reason why he never wished to confess. For he knew that once he did he wouldn’t be able to keep away from you. Yet, you had so easily done so and with that, in one strike, you had discarded them as well, right in front of him.

Was this cruelty aimed against him, or yourself? Mitsuhide wondered who it was you wished to hurt more by speaking these words. To reveal your heart and at the same time stomp upon them, it hurt him, for if he could he would guard it with everything he had, even if it meant having to stomp on it himself. But to see you do it yourself, right in front of him, that was the cruelest of all, for it not only hurt you, but him as well.

“Well, now I know. How lucky you are that I seem incapable of returning it, not?”

He smiles back at you, his lips curling up into an insincere smirk that he had flashed you so many times before, but never before had it hurt so much to make that face. Never before had it been this difficult to keep up his own façade as he watches you hold yourself up, firm and fierce and with all of the determination. You were the epitome of strength despite the vulnerability shown.

Mitsuhide realised in that moment why it was that he found you so beautiful in that moment. Why it was that your smile captivated him more than it had ever before. It was the sincerity in the curve of your lip, the sensitivity within, the vulnerability shown, so openly, but fearlessly. You had embraced yourself and wielded your emotions like a weapon in a time and era in which that was seen as a death sentence. It was right here, standing in front of you that Mitsuhide Akechi, master manipulator, king of lies and the nightmare of each prisoner, learnt of a new weapon that he hadn’t considered before.

How cruel your kindness felt to him in informing the man of your feelings and discarding them at the same time.

#ikesen mitsuhide #mitsuhide x reader #mitsuhide akechi #ikemen sengoku mitsuhide #ikesen #ikesen x reader #ikemen sengoku #ikemen sengoku x reader

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nano--raptor · 4 years ago

Text

If you said Destiny, I wouldn’t believe you

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 1100

Warnings: Fluff, emotions, softness, hinting at sadness and pain from the past, happy hopeful ending

A/N: This is my contribution for @the-ss-horniest-book-club Romcom Drabbles challenge! I wrote this inspired by a scene in the French movie Amelie, if you haven’t seen it I highly recommend, it’s a beautiful, lovely story and always gives me lots of feels❤ You can watch the scene I was inspired by here, this happens after Amelie finds the box in her apartment and is determined to find the owner. In the movie she delivers it anonymously, but I wanted an event that brings Bucky and the reader together. Also, don’t at me about Bucky’s age, I just thought it worked as written and kept it that way :) *Bottom right image of the moodboard is from the movie! Thank you so much for reading, enjoy!❤

-----

The knock at the door pulled Bucky’s attention away from the game and he turned the volume down on the tv as he stood. The game - baseball - was so different from what he remembered, they hit harder, ran faster, threw further. It was exciting to watch, but sports in the future was weird to him. Athletes seemed superhuman these days. Maybe they were; maybe he and Steve weren’t the only super soldiers. Maybe there were also super athletes.

His attention was still on the tv as he unlocked and pulled the door open, but when he turned his gaze to the person at the door the world faded away. A woman, young, pretty, with bright eyes and a bright smile. She looked sweet and hopeful and Bucky found himself smiling back at her even though he had no idea who she was.

“Hi! Um, is this the Barnes residence?” She sounded a bit nervous, and Bucky’s smile faltered slightly, a bit unnerved that a complete stranger had tracked down his home - and him - by name, but she seemed honest and genuine, so he gave her the benefit of the doubt.

“Uh, yeah,” he answered slowly, cautiously, keeping a calm expression but with a hint of a frown now resting between his brows.

“Oh yay! Is, um,” the woman tried to peek around him. “Is there a Mr. Banes here? Barnes Senior?” Bucky’s mouth twitched back into a smile, cocking his head at her question.

“As in, my father?”

“Um, maybe?” she shifted on her feet, blushing slightly. This was odd, but she was adorable.

“Nope, it’s just me.” Bucky relaxed slightly, holding back a chuckle but burning to know what the woman was after. She frowned slightly and looked down at a parcel in her hands, which Bucky hadn’t noticed her holding until now.

“Hmm, ok, that’s… odd. Would you by chance be James Barnes then?” Now Bucky’s smile faded and he mirrored the woman’s frown, defenses rising again.

“Yeah, that’s me… why?”

“Well, um. This doesn’t make any sense but… I suppose this belongs to you then!” She held out the parcel, a small box wrapped in brown paper. Bucky took it cautiously, looking it over and giving it a slight shake. He peered down the hall before stepping back into his apartment and motioning the woman to join him. She nibbled her lip and hesitantly agreed, stepping through the door and closing it as Bucky headed back over to the couch. He gently unwrapped the paper, revealing a weathered tin box. His eyes widened and the paper fell from his grasp and he slowly sat down, opening the tin gingerly. The woman watched as emotion covered his face, fingers gently sifting through the contents.

In a flash, memories came flooding back to Bucky as he saw photos, newspaper clippings and small cracker jack toys inside. Memories of a childhood so long ago, it seemed like another lifetime, another reality. So much had happened that his former life seemed like a distant fantasy. A story of someone else’s life that he only knew and remembered from reading about it.

Bucky loved baseball as a kid. He remembered when the Yankees won the World Series in ‘32, then the Giants, and then a few years later, the Yankees won four back to back titles. What a time that had been. He and his friends would run around the neighbourhood, they’d try and play ball whenever they could, and play catch when they couldn’t. He remembered trying to call their shots, and running like hell when the ball went where it wasn’t supposed to.

It was a simpler time then. They all ended up going their own ways, and Bucky had started chasing other interests, eventually joining the army, but seeing these items that he’d collected as a boy made his past life actually seem real.

“Where did you find this?” he looked up at her, his voice quiet, emotion heavy in his eyes. She looked back at him, almost looking like she might cry, a small smile on her lips.

“I actually found it in my apartment. It took a while to track down the history of who had lived there, but eventually I found out about the Barnes family, in the 30’s.” They held each other’s gaze for a moment, before Bucky just breathed “wow” and looked back down at the contents of the box again.

“I remember that place now,” he said with a sigh. “But I’d forgotten all about this.” A few moments passed before the woman shifted and cleared her throat nervously.

“One thing I don’t understand, if I may. You… you don’t look like...” her voice trailed off and Bucky chuckled, finishing her thought.

“Like a 90 year old man?’ She smiled and nodded shyly. Bucky closed the tin and set it on the table, leaning back on the couch and smiling softly at her. “You wanna hear a crazy story?”

-----

You’d fallen in love with Bucky that day. Conversation flowed easily and before you knew it you were meeting for coffee, having lunch together in small cafes, spending nights together. You’d go for rides on his motorcycle through old neighbourhoods of the city while Bucky pointed out landmarks that he now remembered from his childhood. He made you happy, and seeing him happy and at peace, after hearing about his life, warmed your heart in a way that you thought was impossible.

One day, the two of you sat by the river in comfortable silence, while you skipped rocks across the surface, when he’d suddenly asked you:

“How can you love someone like me?” He looked at you with sadness in his eyes, and it broke your heart. “Bucky Barnes. I never used to believe in destiny, or miracles, or fairy tales. But the day I found that little tin box in my apartment, my life changed. I set out to find the owner, to bring happiness to those around me, and I found you.” You laced your fingers together with his, feeling a sense of calm after so long of feeling alone, holding onto your fairy tale dreams of true love, wondering if they’d ever happen.

“The world has been hard for you, but you have a kind heart and you deserve someone who loves you, and reminds you of that.” You smiled softly. “I love you Bucky.”

Bucky smiled and squeezed your hand, leaning in to give you a gentle kiss. “I love you too darlin’, and you definitely show me that everyday. Thank you.”

-----

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lady-of-all-cards · 4 years ago

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Ikemen Revolution: Headcanon - When the Red Army Officers Fall Ill

Fandom: Ikemen Revolution Characters: Lancelot Kingsley, Jonah Clemence, Edgar Bright, Kyle Ash, Zero Pairings: N/A Summary: One day, an officer falls ill with a terrible cold. Will they suffer through their work? Or hide away in their blankets until the sickness passes?

Notes: Did I depress you enough with the last two posts? Well here is a little fun happy times to forget that I did that, because I’m not that morbid or depressing (most of the time, anyway). So, I hope this cheers the blog up a little! And of course, I hope you enjoy ^-^

1. The King of Hearts - Lancelot Kingsley

Lancelot is commonly ill due to his constant use of magic leading to his overexertion.

Kyle is also in on this little tidbit, so dealing with a sick Lancelot isn’t too much for him to do, especially if it’s a common cold.

But being the kind and protective man he is, Lancelot wouldn’t tell anyone of his cold as to not worry them, because this man is a considerate teddy bear!

However, our dear Gentle Demon, Edgar Bright, is far too attentive to detail, and over their early morning meeting, picks up on Lancelot’s drousiness and general unawareness of the situation around him.

Of course, to cause chaos as he usually does, he brings it up in the conversation.

Jonah goes into panic mode, fussing over Lancelot and trying to get him to, at the very least, tell them his aliments so they can help.

Zero steps forward silently and places a crimson lolipop in front of Lancelot on the desk, stepped back sheepishly.

Lancelot takes the lolipop, but doesn’t eat it.

Yet. He’ll sneak it later when Mr.Overprotective-Mother-Jonah isn’t around

Kyle finally decides to pipe up, urging Lancelot to take even an hour’s rest before continuing with his duties.

Lancelot, of course, denies that he needs that, and tries to continue the meeting they were having before.

But it’s four against one.

Jonah would back down with a single command.

Edgar would back down, but he would continously tease him about it for days to come.

Kyle wasn’t backing down. As his personal doctor, his duty was to ensure the king was in good health at every possible moment.

Zero wouldn’t back down either. He’d much rather be ill himself that see Lancelot struggling with any sickness.

And so, Lancelot is forced to yeild. Jonah and Edgar split his paperwork, supposedly an hour’s worth of it.

Zero takes up Jonah’s and Edgar’s duties in training their units.

Kyle drags Lancelot back to his room and settles him down to sleep, giving him cold medicine and painkillers.

However, when he wakes, he realises a number of things:

1. He wasn’t woken after an hour, but was left to rest for three.

2. The entirety of his paperwork for the entire day had been done by Jonah and Edgar in the hours he slept.

Although ashamed about having to rely on his subordiantes so much, Lancelot was endeared by their kindness, and awarded them all with gifts of their favourite choosing.

2. The Queen of Hearts - Jonah Clemence

Much like Lancelot, Jonah will try to hide the fact that he’s ill, but his first mistake happens before he even wakes up…

He overslept… by an entire hour.

His sickness had hit and weakened him sometime during the night, when he opted for thinner night clothes, not expecting the chilling cold after such a comfortingly warm day.

Because of this poor judgement, Jonah’s body refused to wake up, and instead of his usual 6 AM start, he roused from his slumber at 7AM, much to his shock and distain.

It was just his luck there wasn’t a morning meeting that day due to Edgar being called away on business, and Kyle had his usual hangover, so Jonah had a moment to gather himself and actually make him presentable.

He did a good job of hiding it, but only because he stayed in his private quarters completing paperwork and eating sweet deserts that his footmen brought. There was absolutely no need whatsoever for him to leave his room.

Or so he though…

Night had passed over Cradle when he had been called to the King’s office. Edgar had gotten home slightly earlier than usual, and so the morning’s meeting had been called into place.

It seemingly wouldn’t have been a problem if the sun had been seeping through the windows, but in the glow of the Magic Crystals, Jonah’s ghostly features were illuminated fully.

At first, neither Lancelot or Edgar commented on it, opting to leave him be. It was just to late at night to be teasing…

But then… Jonah’s speech began to warp.

His sickness had progressed into a headache, and he began not thinking straight, no longer possessing the ability to rationally organise and explain his points.

However, knowing the proud Queen of Hearts would never forgive himself for ruining a meeting in such a manner, Lancelot brought the meeting to an end early, ordering his Jack and Queen straight to bed.

The next morning after a much needed sleep, Jonah woke up to painkillers and cold medicine on the bedside, with notes from his fellow officers:

Lancelot: “I noticed you were feeling off yesterday. You are given leave for as long as you need to recover. Get well soon :)”

Edgar: “Don’t push yourself, Queen. I don’t was to tease you if you’re not up to being teased.”

Kyle: “Kinda annoyed you didn’t come to me straight away. Take 10ml of medicine in the bottle three times a day and one before bed, and the painkillers once a day when you feel is necissary. And please, for the love of god, please rest.”

Zero: “Edgar told me you were sick. Don’t worry about your duties, me and him had split them while you get better, so just relax. And… here’s a lolipop. A treat from me for when you feel better!”

Although embarrassed at being caught and annoyed at some of the comments, Jonah smiled and decided that maybe it was time to take a day off to recover.

3. The Jack of Hearts - Edgar Bright

The Jack of Hearts never gets sick. EVER.

Or so it seemed, because like most things in life, Edgar Bright was an expert in the art of both faking a sickness to get a day off, and in the art of pretending not to be sick, even though he felt like literal death inside.

It was the latter that ailed him.

For the entire day, he managed to allude detection. He cleared his mind before meetings, and switched training his soliders with one of Zero’s patrols.

Everything was fine and dandy, golden, good to go!

Until that evening, his dear student had challenged him to a duel…

See, Zero found it strange that Edgar skipped on training the new recruits that day because, although he was tough and the sessions always ended in a high workload for their doctor, it was a necessary part to strengthening their resolve.

Plus… Edgar loved playfully torturing and teasing the men of the Red Army, and did it at every chance he got.

So why not this time…?

To any onlooker (and there were quite a few), it appeared to be an even match between two high-skilled soldiers, ending in Zero disarming Edgar.

But there was no teasing.

There was no indication Edgar was truly Edgar.

But during the little sparring match, Zero found it noticably easy to defeat his teacher.

Assuming he would get teased by it to fuel Edgar’s entertainment, Zero played along with it, hoping he’d snap back to his old self real quick.

But the teasing never came…

And so Zero went to the only man who he knew could solve this problem: one Master Kyle Ash.

So, Kyle and Zero innocently dined with Edgar at dinner that night. End of story.

Or so Edgar thought.

He thought he had been in the clear that night as he walked to feed the Creek Family one last meal, but the Creeks were all sat around a small handkerchief, bearing medicine for Edgar, with a small card folded ontop.

“Get well soon, papa - the Creeks.”

It was Zero’s handwriting, he’d recognise it anywhere, but the sentiment still forced a goofy smile to his face as he reached over to pet each duck in to.

Being sick wasn’t so bad, he thought…

4. The Seven of Hearts - Kyle Ash

The first thought Kyle had when he woke up that morning was that he had a hangover.

A totally reasonable conclusion to make, unless he was just so used to waking up with hangovers that it had become normal for him to assume that’s what his ailment was.

And everyone else assumed that also upon seeing him that morning at the breakfast table and during the morning meeting.

However, there was one who’d know the Hungover Doctor too long to be fooled by the effects of a hangover.

Lancelot had slipped Edgar a note during the meeting, and using the cover up of delievering a letter, let the Jack fulfill the true duty he intended.

Kyle never suspected a thing, too busy with his hangover and with his work to bother too much with his cold.

But when he had returned to his personal quarters than night to do some extra studying, he found a small collection of medicines and medicinal herbs, with a small note folded into a card.

“Do you even realise it yourself, Kyle? You’re sick, and I’m not just refering to your hangovers. Take 10ml of this medicine three times a day and one before bed, and you have leave to rest and recover. Try not to get intoxicated while you do so, it would help your recovery - Lancelot.”

He hadn’t noticed until then, but he was feeling drousy, he was sniffling every now and then, a cough stratched at his throat too.

And yet he smiled, knowing the Lance he knew was still kicking about, there to stand by the people of Cradle whenever, wherever.

5. The Ace of Heart - Zero

Much like most of the boys in the RA, he’d try to hide it and continue with his usual business

His exclusion from the crimson bloodline meant that no one really paid too close attention to him, or noticed there was anything wrong.

Thinking he got away from it all, Zero doesn’t let something as simple as a cold hold him back.

However, in the blistering Cradle heat that came around the next, he began to falter.

He developed a fever when he was out training his men, and it quickly grew worse and worse with time, as he failed to attend to it.

His men finally picked up on his daze, and after their schedual came to an end, ran off to get Kyle.

In the infirmary was both Kyle and Edgar, and upon hearing the Ace was unwell, they both rushed to his room to check the damage.

Kyle was, of course, muttering curses about it, annoyed he let it go that far.

On arriving, however, they find Zero passed out over his desk, and after a quick check-up from Kyle, Edgar carries him to the infirmary for treatment.

The next morning, when Zero wakes up in the infirmary feeling a lot better than he did yesterday, he cursed his inefficientness, and tries to leave to get back to work.

But it’s King’s orders.

Zero isn’t leaving until he’s all better! The care behind the order made Zero smile as he secretly snacked on a lolipop...

#ikemen revolution #lancelot kingsley #jonah clemence #edgar bright #kyle ash #zero #sickness

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imagine-loki · 4 years ago

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Pride and Prejudice

TITLE: Pride and Prejudice CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 56 AUTHOR: wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki was raised on Jotunheim as Laufey’s son after the war, but an agreement was then made that he would wed Odin’s daughter so Odin could secure the alliance of Jotunheim through the marriage. Loki, in turn, was raised to be king of Jotunheim, but how he views Asgard is far different from how Odin’s daughter is raised leading to a clash of cultures as well as uncertainty between the pair of betrothed youths. RATING: Mature NOTES/WARNINGS: Forced Marriage, not all fun and games. My first real step back into the Loki scene in over a year.

Tags - @skulliebythesea @asimovethroughthisworld @blackcherry26-blog @we-shadowhunter2901

Ella stood looking over the courtyard. Only a short time previous, it was bare, nothing but harsh and ugly ice shards, now, it was in full bloom. Beautiful ice flowers grew everywhere possible cultivated proudly by those forced to abandon such professions when the realm had fallen to a barren wasteland. She looked around as beings from different realms walked and spoke in different groupings. It felt right, seeing different peoples from different realms together on the realm she called her home. She also noticed that she did not feel so lonely for her old home seeing some of her favourite parts of it on her new home realm. Conversation was so important to her, so seeing the likes of such being opened with those of Jotunheim, it filled her with contentment. “You seem somewhat unhappy, you have done ever since the coronation.” Ella turned to look at her mother who was standing not too far away. “What ails you so, Mother?”

“Your husband is king…”

Ella was going to correct her mother with the term mate, not husband, but she stopped herself, it was irrelevant, it was the same thing by a different name. “He is.” She smiled proudly at such.

“Yet you were not made his queen.”

“There are no queens on Jotunheim, Mother. There never has been. All Kings except for Loki have multiple mates, so there never has been a call for such, which would be made queen? All of them being so would not have been an option.”

“This is not like other times,” Frigga pointed out. “There is only you now.”

“It is the way here, Mother. I know it is confusing, but you get used to it.” Ella purposely kept her tone light, not wanting to be seen to argue with her mother if any where to pass by them. “How was the Garden of Tyrell? I hope you brought one or two scrolls with you.”

“You are carrying a child, you should not even be considering new spells of that nature,” Frigga admonished.

“He will be here soon and though my days will be busy tending to him, I will still have time for such things. I always intend to have time to broaden my learning, even when I left home I wished for such.”

“Tending...surely you will have assistance?” Frigga had learnt quickly that on Jotunheim, there were no nursemaids to assist and raise the children but she thought Ella’s own entirely different rearing would have meant she would have done something different to the Jotnar. “Being of a foreign realm, you were never taught such things.”

“I can learn, as all mothers do. It has not been impossible through the ages, I think it something I can grasp it. Many women of far lesser means have done so successfully. Honestly, Mother, I feel as though you have no faith in me.”

Frigga felt her throat become tight at those words. “I have never doubted your ability since the day you proved all my ideas of you wrong for the second time. The first, I put down to fluke luck, the second...well, I was not going to allow myself to be mistaken again. You have never faltered to keep going in your attempts to do something. You may have, on occasion, had trouble trying to get there, but you always managed it. This will be no different but this is your most difficult hurdle to date. You are feeling the challenge of carrying a child, no doubt, not assisted by being somewhere so cold, I would assume.”

“He is like his father, he prefers the cold, it has led to some issues, I will not deny it. My hips would like it if I had taken Father’s size more than yours but overall, it has been something of a pleasant experience.”

Frigga was uncertain if her daughter was saying such things to dismiss any issues she was suffering personally but seeing her smile, she knew she would not get an answer on such if it were the case. “Are you not frightened?”

“Petrified. Very soon, this child will be here and dependant on me to keep him alive, how am I not supposed to be scared?”

“Parenting on our realm is quite terrifying, to not even have that assistance here...”

“I will have Greta and Alma to assist me.”

“What of the other one?” Ella looked at her mother curiously. “She seems somewhat cold.” She paused for a moment as she thought over her words. “On more than one level.”

Ella nodded slightly. “Angrboða and I do not see eye-to-eye. We mutually agree that we should have very little to do with one another and that is one of the very few things we do agree on.”

Frigga’s brow furrowed slightly. “That cannot be easy.”

“We make it work. My concern is my family, Loki, myself and our child, not in that order, mind. My duty is to me and mine, not to get into squabbles with beings I have little to do with.”

Frigga looked at Ella for a moment before nodding slightly. “I think your brother to be far more like your father in appearance, though his mind is something I have never been able to decide as to who he takes after. You, on the other hand, you are your Father’s daughter in mind, though you look more like me, I think.”

Ella laughed slightly. “If you think it is from him alone that I get such things, Mother, you are poorly mistaken. I am as much you in mind as I am Father, with a dash of my own personality of my own making added in for good measure.”

“That mischievous streak has to have come from somewhere,” Frigga commented in her own jestful manner.

“We already covered that in you and Father, or did you think none would ever learn how it is you came to know not mere seidr but dark witches magic and how Father came to even have Mjolnir and Gungnir when both were not in the possession of Asgard before the incident on Niðavellir that no one seems to talk about yet seems so very obviously something that should be spoken about?”

“First of all, how do you know about my less than appropriate education and secondly, what occurred on Niðavellir?”

“It’s not hard to figure out when the witch I went in search of made a comment about my being my mother’s daughter and with regards to the situation in which Father came to have those weapons, all I will say is that I have spoken to some beings with information on such as they were witnesses to the situation in which he came to have them and it would most certainly come under the heading of mischievous, or did both of you think none would ever come to question such things?”

Frigga knew that there was no manner in which she could get her daughter to explain further. Instead, she accepted the answer she was given as she knew it would be the only one she would get. “You never cease to amaze me, Ella. your knowledge is unrivalled in many ways.”

“I am proficient at everything I do.” Ella could not help gently putting a hand to her stomach. “I just wish he could see you all more. It feels wrong to know he will not see you as often as we wish he could. I want him to know you all but it will only be fleeting moments of such.”

“I only hope his father will be somewhat interested in spending time with him.” Ella frowned at her mother’s words. “The demand for there being children was because of him yet his disgust at such…”

“Loki is very much excited for the arrival of the baby. He has made mention more than once of how he cannot wait to begin to interact and bond with him. With regards to the demand, as you call it, I know it is hard to believe, Mother, but Loki never asked for that; it’s true but like with many of the marriages you have witnessed in your years like this, where how it starts is not how it remains. I know that you are saying these things out of concern but you have nothing to fear, I can assure you. Loki is a good mate. He cares about me.”

Frigga did not know if she should say anything to her daughter about the uncertain hope she carried in her voice. She could only hope that her daughter’s trust was well placed, though the past would suggest that there was a significant chance she was wrong. Leaving the Garden of Tyrell to the news that her daughter was dying from an infliction such as her own seidr fighting her own mind terrified Frigga. She wanted to call on Heimdall and have him bring her to the Ice Realm post-haste, to level it alone if Odin would not help her over what Loki had done to inflict such horrific isolation on Ella but she knew Heimdall would already have been told by Odin not to allow such, so she was forced to return to Asgard and prepare for her daughter’s return. When Odin returned to Asgard alone, informing her that Ella would not be dissuaded from remaining on Jotunheim, she fought once more to go see her daughter, mostly in an attempt to have her see sense and return home but again her husband thwarted her attempts to do so, stating they could not protect Ella from the realms forever, that their daughter had made her decision and it was their duty to respect such. If they could respect the decision of their son to battle when he could very easily be killed, they needed to extend the same to their daughter, though both privately knew it was different with Ella. She was different to Thor, reminding them both of their most notable traits, her bright eyes yearning for new knowledge all through her life and both elated to be the ones to bestow it on her. Thor tended to be more headstrong, like his father as Frigga often commented, but Ella, she was every bit the queen her mother was and far more, making the actions of Loki in not making her queen all the more baffling to Frigga. Everything felt so conflicting. His movements beside her as they stood side-by-side in the hall meeting guests were of caring, the fact he did not name her his partner conflicted with that in her mind.

#loki #others #submission #Submitted one shot #Pride and Prejudice #chapter 56 #wolfpawn

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bjy-on-ao3 · 4 years ago

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Kinktober Day 14

(As before, you can find a link to the AO3 version of this and the rest of my Kinktober 2020 prompts on the ‘Masterlist’ section of the blog.)

Originally I was gonna go with a straight-up ‘sex for information’ take on this, but someone else covered that idea pretty well in the past so I decided to go in this direction instead. Also despite trying to cut out a lot of exposition this still went a good deal longer (and filthier) than others thus far. So, uh, #sorry not sorry? (Trigger warning I guess for a bit of degradation/misogynist name-calling?)

Kinktober Day 14: Stranger S*x (Izaya Orihara | Durarara!!)

Somehow, you had found yourself a few brief blocks and a train ride away from some penthouse apartment alone with a dark-haired stranger whom you were sure had intentions more than just sharing his knowledge. Though what he likely had in mind you had little qualms with. He was handsome enough and from the time you had spent speaking with him at the club you had met him in, he wasn’t going to murder you. Probably.

So long as your luck wasn’t exceptionally bad, you could have some fun and perhaps get on his good side and pry more knowledge about your new city home from him. There was no looking past that he knew his way around Ikebukuro and Shinjuku nearby.

To his credit, there wasn’t any funny business immediately and a part of you was a little disappointed. Settled down on the plush black sectional, the conversation you had begun at the club and the train ride carried on. There was no more alcohol or strobing lights or loud music to distract you. Only the confident, casual way the man talked and gestured and the relaxed atmosphere between you. Though slowly the two of you inched closer on the couch, the barest husky hints suffusing your tones. Eventually, a hand was laid on your thigh, the man continuing to speak, though his face and yours considerably closer.

He gave you time before he escalated further, judging your body language and the look in your eyes. He remained adamant in his belief that he was no pervert like Kishitani, but that didn’t mean he was above taking an easy way to satisfy needs he couldn’t deny he had. Fortunately for him, you were easy to read and there was no misunderstanding the signs you were giving off. You made no attempt to move away from his touch, not even a flinch. Your pupils were dilated wide, your attention rapt on him, and several times he watched how your gaze flickered down to his lips and back as he spoke. You had been given ample opportunities to break away and had taken none of them.

When he finally leaned in, hand pushing a more insistently against your thigh, and caught your lips in a bruising kiss, you had done the opposite of faltering. You melted into the advance, one hand fisting the angled neckline of his shirt. It was no effort to maneuver you onto you back on the cushions and cage you in with his hands on either side of your head.

With a few coy nips on your bottom lip, he slipped his tongue into your mouth. He coaxed your tongue to follow it back into his mouth, twisting and tangling before returning to your own, an erotic dance that demanded your attention and turned you into a pliant puddle. You massaged along his arms and chest through the dark fabric, enjoying the hard feel of the lean body beneath, now and then dragging a nail or two along the open vee of his shirt.

You snaked one hand up to his sleek black hair, giving a light tug that made him make a small, low sound and invigorated his ardent kiss. It was quickly clear just making out lying on the couch wasn’t nearly enough for either of you, however enticing it was. You interrupted the lip lock to greedily remove suddenly far too restricting clothes, His shirt fell into a pile beside the sectional along with your shirt, pants, and bra, leaving you far more bare than him.

You didn’t have the time or mind to complain though when he shoved you back down onto the sofa, pressing his teeth and tongue into the soft skin of your neck and collar. You arched your back, giving yourself more fully to his mouth and moaned at the delightful pinch. Though you weren’t about to be completely distracted, your hands moving to fumble with his belt. He broke away with a low laugh. “Aren’t you eager? I guess it shouldn’t surprise me since you came along so easily. What a little slut you must be to be so easy,” He derided.

His hot breath on your skin in combination with his words sent a shudder through you, halting your task. He could see how your cheeks flushed redder, not with indignation, but with embarrassment. He slipped a hand down between you, dipping past the line of your panties and sliding a finger along the slick folds he found there. “Ooh, and you like being told as much~” He purred, punctuating his words with an especially sharp nip to your neck. “Aren’t I lucky?”

You bit down on your lip, wanting to disprove his claims despite the wetness still pooling between your legs as his fingers lingered in your underwear. “I’m not a slu-uuuuh,” Instead of refuting his words as you had intended, they morphed into a groan when one of his fingers dipped shallowly into your cunt, his thumb finding your clit.

He appeared thoroughly amused by your denial. “You were saying?” He mocked, his tone playful, but a little cruel. “If you’re not such a slut then why is your tight little pussy dripping wet for me already?” He insisted, easing a second finger inside you. His shit-eating grin widened when you clenched unbidden around his fingers in answer.

For a moment you hated your body for betraying how much you enjoyed the humiliation. That moment passed quickly once he began to work your cunt more thoroughly, pumping his slender fingers in and out, digits sinking in with little resistance thanks to your wetness. Any mind remaining to challenge his claims vanished, lost in a haze of bliss and coiling tension in your core. You squirmed beneath him on the sectional, goal of undoing his belt also long forgotten in the throes of pleasure. “Aaa, fuck,” You cursed, one hand balled in the fabric of the couch, the other clinging to his slender waist, nails digging into the skin. “I-I’m go-” You began breathily, feeling the coil of heat readying to burst.

At your words, he pulled his fingers away and left you completely bereft of his touch. He grinned at the petulant whine that left your lips from his withdrawal. “What a cute look.” He seemed far too cheerful over your distress. “Admit what a whore you are and tell me what you want and maybe I’ll reward you~,” He told you, coppery eyes gleeful and hungry as they bore into yours.

If your face had been on fire before, it became an inferno with his words. But you couldn’t help but oblige him and his waiting smirk. “I’m a filthy little slut,” you groaned to start, feeling the burning heat of your words in your cheeks and core. “Please, fuck me, let me cum,” you begged.

From how wide the smile on his face became, you figured he was satisfied with your words. “Was that so hard?” His tone dripped with amusement and ridicule. He moved to undo his belt and pants, wriggling out of them and tossing them along with his underwear onto the floor. Pulling your panties away and pitching them aside as well, he stretched his body along yours. “You can call me Izaya, by the way. I’m sure that’s something you’ll need to know soon enough,” he whispered in your ear, words oozing his smugness.

He pressed into you agonizingly slowly, ensuring you felt every inch and burn as his cock stretched you open. You swore under your breath and whimpered, delighting in the increasing feeling of fullness until he finally bottomed out. Unmoving for to start, both to allow you to adjust and to savor the hot, soft feeling of your cunt around him, he began a slow, rough tempo that soon turned you a panting, keening mess. “Aah, you take my cock like such a good little whore,” he groaned into your neck, fingers digging harshly into your hips.

You felt yourself tighten around him in response to his words again, opting to distract him from your shame by dragging your nails along his shoulders and back. He hissed and swore at the sting, bucking his hips harder and faster into you, his pubic bone brushing against your clit and adding just the extra amount of friction you needed. An intense heat was pooling again, threatening to explode. You came hard, feeling the pleasure roll through you in waves and your body clutch his cock even tighter. In your newfound knowledge, his name rolled off your tongue again and again as you rode out of your high, scratching more lines of angry red into his skin.

“Mm, since you’ve been such a good whore for me, I’m gonna give you that reward I promised,” He growled, his words broken by labored breaths and his pace becoming even rougher and more erratic. His hips stiffened, and he groaned low and primal, his cum spilling out in thick, hot spurts until he was unmoving against you.

Heavy, hot silence hung in the air for a time after, interrupted only by your winded breathing and the occasional moan from lingering sensitivity. “You know,” You started, shattering it, “You never got my name, even if I got yours,” you mused, brain still partly mush.

He chuckled tiredly. “Oh, but I did - I know everything and everyone in this city. What makes you think you’re any different?”

#kinktober #kinktober 2020 #kinktober day 14 #day 14 #day fourteen #izaya orihara #orihara izaya #durarara!!#drrr!!#writing #ao3 #archive of our own #fic #fanfic #fanfiction

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alloveroliver · 5 years ago

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Human!Arthur Doyle ⚔ Vampire!MC “Take A Break.”

Sip Fics: A Dark Valentines Day Event.

Thirst Rating: Smut

Vampire MC AU

Ikemen Vampire Drabble

With a click, the bedroom door sealed shut. The man laying atop the desk nestled in the corner of the room looked up at you through foggy lenses.

“Were you sleeping on the job?” You asked, smirking at his cowlick and sheen of drool pooling at the corner of his mouth

Arthur flexed his jaw that once rested against his arm and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“I suppose I did.” He looked down at the scattered papers and laughed. “I don’t even remember falling to sleep.”

He dropped his glasses to the desk and stretched his arms up high over his head. His back popped as he reached, and he sighed happily.

“I was going to bring you some tea, but I thought I’d ask if you wanted a snack as well. It seems like you were taking an ample break already.” You stepped behind him and ran your hands along his shoulders. With a few firm squeezes, Arthur slumped forward to allow you more access to his back.

“I’m not sure how long I was out.” He allowed your fingers to dig deep into his sore tissue. “Ha, I don’t even know where I left off in my story.” He touched the tip of his finger to his bottom lip thoughtfully.

“Maybe you should call it a night? It’s pretty late by now. You could start fresh in the morning again?” Your words made him nod slightly.

“Perhaps,” Arthur turned to look up at you through his sleepy gaze. “I think you’re onto something.”

You smiled and pat his back to signal your massage was done. “Up you go then,”

He stood from his seat, then stretched skyward. “Hmm,” He turned toward you and wrapped his arms around you in a warm embrace. “Just a quick peck then?” His nose brushed yours, and you froze.

You could feel it in his body language and sense it in his tone. ‘Just a quick peck’ was never an option. You knew those teasing words were the catalyst to a long night between the sheets with him.

You worried about his sleep and how he hadn’t been getting much of it lately. This wasn’t the first time you’d found him asleep at his desk this week, and you knew it wouldn’t be the last until he got this novel out to the editor.

You had to think quickly as his lips pressed over yours. The kiss was so tender and sweet, and you could sense his grogginess in the way he moved his lips. It held a ‘thank you’ laced with possessiveness as the kiss grew firmer. His hands held either side of your face while the kiss deepened exponentially.

Just as you suspected, his tongue began to break past the seam of your lips, deepening the kiss. You wanted him to keep kissing you so badly, you did. But, if he had another late and sleepless night, he may collapse at some point tomorrow during the day.

Thinking quickly, you decided you’d have to wear him out first. Breaking the kiss forcefully, you moved your lips along his jaw. Arthur chuckled as if he were down for a challenge of seducing you. He ran his hands down to grasp your breasts, cupping them gently.

The sensation of his hands pleasuring your chest made you falter, but you continued to press on with your initial plan. You wouldn’t let him distract you, not this time.

With a low moan, your lips met his neck over and over. You prodded to find the perfect spot for a quick feed. He always fell asleep fast after he allowed you to take a sip from him, and you knew it was just the thing he needed to konk out.

Arthur slowed down his movements, snaking his hand up the front of your shirt. Your fingertips trailed down his chest, toying with the button of his trousers. He pushed his hips, helping your hand to grope him.

With your tongue, you teased the shell of his ear until Arthur shivered. He pressed his body into yours, and his solid cock throbbed in your hand. With a gentle nibble to his soft lobe, you felt his demeanor shift.

A hint of excitement and nervousness raised hairs on his arms. With another nibble, you bit harder until he groaned into the otherwise silent room. He anticipated your thirst to take over and distracted you from the cardinal need to feed.

He turned to look at you, pupils blown wide. Arthur’s hands came up to your hips, and, with a quick push, you toppled to the bed. He was on top of you in an instant, lips meeting every inch of your skin that wasn’t covered.

“Is this how you put one to sleep?” He nuzzled the side of your face, pushing your shirt up to reveal your naked chest.

“This is how I have to put you to sleep.” You teased, scrambling to pull the end of his shirt up his back.

“A man could get used to this,” He licked along your collarbone and kissed the tip of your shoulder.

“So could a woman,” Your heavily lidded eyes met his primal stare.

Maybe he was playing you just as well as you played him. You could stop at any point, right? He did need sleep… but then again, he could just take a nap tomorrow afternoon.

Thank you, @tsukkidoyle , for sending in an ask!

The event status is at the top of my blog, along with the initial post!

#ikemen vampire #sip fics #arthur x mc #ikevamp arthur

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lladyariall · 5 years ago

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Badgerclops literally falls in love with Mao Mao at this point (officially) because this is probably the most touching moment he has ever had alongside the grumpy hero. The cyborg's intentions are pretty clear that Badgerclops does have a small crush on Mao Mao, since he is bisexual in this series, throughout the entire start of the show, and he deals with quite a bit of neglect and bad tantrums from his boyfriend- I mean, best friend.

To start off, Badgerclops wants to be physically closer to Mao Mao.

Badgerclops has a new family now that he believes he can try to find new ways in this life to settle down a little more, and according to research, natural ways Badgers show their mates they care by providing a secure den to share kits with or hibernate. Sure, they didn't give birth to Adorabat, but adoption is still as thick as blood, so these two are kicking it in to high gear when it came to welcoming this little girl in their lives. Both heroes already settled to being Mao Mao as a dad figure/hero trainer and Badgerclops has the mom figure/positive role model in their family.

Badgerclops is super ready to have a family, by now. It shows that Badgerclops see's his chance to find someone close to him (besides Adorabat) since after finding Bobo-chan; yet, he catches unto this big maternal instinct to go raise a monster baby.. by himself. He grew waaay too attached to that creature too fast, too soon without thinking of the consequences. He already has a child but he doesn't feel like he has a legit family since Badgerclops and Mao Mao keep faltering their relationship, sometimes. Hell, even when he could have done more to prevent from Bobo letting be adopted by Badgerclops, not even Mao Mao argues any further to ditch off the baby; which, for SOME reason, he just let's Badgerclops be happy as a pretend mother to the point of holding Adorabat back from attacking the two. It's crazy how Mao Mao may not want Badgerclops to touch him all that much, but he's okay with letting his boyfriend- friend go off on his just so he can be happy? I think in the end of every episode, Mao Mao sees more and more how his friend's feelings are, in small and big ways, that only adults can see and Mao Mao is not acting on them, for a reason.

To be fair, I think that Badgerclops has been giving off hints to Mao Mao, and it just goes way past the little guy's comfort zone; it seems like he grew a bad case of needing his personal space every social encounter he has that Badgerclops and Adorabat both try to break, and he will guard his body to prevent from anyone touching him (especially the Sweetie Pies.) Buuut we forget how "persistent" Badgerclops can be when it comes to provoking Mao Mao on purpose VS him laying down a few attempts to be able to, well, touch the sheriff cat. He wants to be physically closer to Mao Mao, which is not working out; but there is a twist to this. I think Mao Mao notices these touches quite often (after all, he is always on duty for action) that he allows it from time to time, and yet he probably never touched Badgerclops unless it was a time or moment that he forgot to keep his emotional guard up. He doesn't cherish Badgerclops as much as he should because he believes that so much could take his reputation away, and even ditches off his boyfriend's feelings from being so high-strung to be beside his abusive dad. Wow. That's.. that's harsh, right there.

These two are super duper close as best friends go. They just don't know where to truly talk down their feelings for each because the pressure of Mao Mao's actual wants and desires are stronger than having a stable relationship right now. It's crazy how much they cherish each other to the point of interacting as a legit cartoon couple; from the bickering, to the small challenges they engage with each other, giving each pther compliments, trying to make the other jealous, having a lot in common, being each other's ying and yang, small touches, adopting a child, never giving up on their relationship, sharing a home, and I could keep going but I would take up this entire paragraph. So, Badgerclops shoves it all down; the feelings he tries to hide from Mao Mao, and they slip up from time to time, because he thinks he has the emotional stability to let Mao Mao lean on him, like how the black feline sort of leans on their daughter. But the grumpy sheriff can't take Badgerclops that seriously if he has to admit he's wrong, going back on what he believes, and crashing a lot of reality on him at once.

To be fair, I think since they crashed by accident in the Ruby Pure Heart, maybe they are emotionally being more open and Mao Mao is having a small crisis in his mind that he could already be living the life of a full time husband and father; and that freaks him out. Mao Mao doesn't truly adore labels, unless they're heroic ones, and his one goal in life is to hear his dad say the words he wants to hear. And Badgerclops can't fill that hole. I think the deep pain in Mao Mao's heart is too great to let him move on and grow up emotionally for him to find a stable relationship with anyone. Badgerclops can deal with Mao Mao and his hard personality, unless given a reason to, from their recent history; but.. what if Mao Mao actually knows he just isn't capable of working a relationship out with Badgerclops, is because he makes him a better person when he wants the one who HURT HIM to take that pain away until he's ready to mentally find himself inside? I think he hides out from Badgerclops' advice because he doesn't want to hear a dad, he wants to hear a boyfriend/co hero be able to support his childish decisions (since he practically raised himself) but Badgerclops is only trying to be a little hero in Mao Mao's beliefs and save his confusion from getting any worse; which it normally does.

If Badgerclops knows his friend well enough, becoming a legendary hero is not going to be put aside because of some relationship they love each other in. It probably is on Mao Mao's list of what a hero should and shouldn't do, and sadly, it's probably a "should not date your co hero" priority. I think Mao Mao does have feelings for Badgerclops and I will talk way more about that in my future blog, but he rejects everything Badgerclops physically offers and even advice is from being unable to admit he might be the best fit for his soft-hearted companion.

Final thoughts about Badgerclops having a crush on Mao Mao is that if it comes to not getting off the couch at all, the large mammal will not give up on Mao Mao. To him, Mao Mao is more worthy doing whatever can make him happy (or stop bitching) and he can't push any further to court the cat, until Mao Mao comes around through his past issuses. For his own emotional support, Badgerclops has found a perfectly comfy spot to be in between a good friend as well as letting out a little love when he comforts Mao Mao. He even gets him to listen in the very end, sometimes, and throughout the series, Mao Mao listens to Badgerclops more and more from every experience they share as a family. It's truly touching how much Badgerclops gives a lot of his life to be around Mao Mao. He doesn't have to stay with him or Adorabat, at all. He can leave at ANYTIME and he freaking doesn't!

Like, if you really think about it, Badgerclops is almost a better fit for a legendary hero if he put all his energy into bringing down Mao Mao, and the Pure Heart Valley Kingdom, he could rule the world. He has the smarts, the tools, and the strength to out live this evil idea but he doesn't because being beside Mao Mao.. is what makes him truly happy. (I'm pretty damn sure if you have the cherishable locket to Badgerclops, a photo of him and Mao Mao meeting is what will probably pop up.. just saying. Lol) He doesn't want to live up to Mao Mao, he wants to be by his side throughout of the rest of their lives. Badgerclops made his choice to live forever beside this stranger he once almost got his ass kicked by, and now they're raising a little girl. Huh.

These two are going to get closer somehow. I hope they become canon as soon as possible. They belong together and if they could be a little more able to talk about their emotional feelings without too much critism than I'm pretty sure they would be making out, by now. Lol. Oh well, we'll have to wait and see :)

#mao mao #badgerclops #adorabat #heroes of pure heart #blushy blush #badgermao #maoclops #mini blog #i guess #i need sleep #sorry if it is hard to read

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carryonmywaywardwriters · 5 years ago

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Jail Bait - Dean x Reader

A/N: Have a personal favorite of mine back. As always, feedback is incredible. And, I hope you all enjoy <3

PSA: I am NOT a minor friendly blog. If you are below 18, please come back when you’re older. I don’t want to lose my blog because you were too eager to grow up. If I discover you, I WILL block.

Warnings: PWP. Kinda public sex. Eavesdropping guard. Dry humping. Dirty talk. Talk of masturbation. Bit of praise!Kink. Unprotected sex. I believe that is all.

Word Count: Roughly 3,300

“Wait in here.” The guard stated, closing the door to the claustrophobic room behind you. An echoing clang was loud enough to make you jump. Your eyes took in the setting that held your teeth on edge.

There was a small cot resting in the corner. A tiny, half destroyed nightstand held a lamp that carried a dust-riddled top. Inside was a bulb that flickered every thirty seconds. No natural light was allowed in. Cool, white, chipped brick walls surrounded you. Caging you in.

“There you are,” Only Dean Winchester could rumble quite like that as the door squeaked heavily. The sound made you turn back to see him just as he shoved the jacket he carried at the officer at the door. Your eyes glued onto the way he swaggered into the cage with that familiar bowlegged gait no one else could quite pull off. “Lookin' prettier than ever.”

He'd only been gone for a day. Yet, somehow, he seemed even taller than you'd remembered. Maybe because he isn't next to his brother.

The thought faded away as he approached. Giving you an even closer look. His deep green eyes were reminiscent of a summer forest in the low light. The dim setting hid his freckles that dusted over his nose. All the ends of his hair were normally lighter from all the exposure to the sun being a hunter gave him. But, in that room, even that was darker than ever despite remaining in the spiked fashion he'd adopted. It brought out the deep red of the cut along his cheek bone. Emphasizing the lifestyle he led. The shadows over his lightly stubbled jaw made it seem sharper. His lips were the lone point of him that seemed soft. Only the orange suit he wore was bright, and stretched against his broad form in a way that brought forward carnal thoughts.

For the first time, you saw what anyone else might have when they looked at him. He really was dangerous. “H...hi.”

“Hi, yourself.” The white of his teeth flashed with the unsavory grin he sent your way. “We're gonna be a while, Jax.”

“Jax?” Your brow lifted. Looking at the man you'd known for years in amazement. He didn't look worse for ware. Instead, he pea-cocked forward. A little too comfortable for your liking.

Then, those words sunk in. Settling over you like a threat. It was only supposed to be a delivery. Yet, somehow he expected more time to be spent in the cell.

“We're friends.” A loud guff from outside sounded. Proving the officer could hear what was being said outside of the room. “Kinda.” The hunter you knew took another step forward. You faltered backwards without realizing it. Until his lips curled up even further at the action. He paused, then. Taking in everything your body language was screaming. “You scared of me, sweetheart?”

“N...No,” But, part of you was.

It was the tension he carried. That hungry look in his eye. You two had been dancing around the heat between you for as long as you could remember. And the thought that it was all going to come to an end point in that conjugal room? Utterly nerve wracking.

“Good,” His voice was honey as he took another step forward. You told yourself to hold still. To not give into what the ambiance of the room demanded you do: run. Somehow you managed it. Even when his large, thick hand gripped the back of your neck as he stepped toe to toe with you. “Miss me?”

“Dean-”

Before you could tell him to drop the act, his warm, soft lips slanted across yours. Stealing the breath from your lungs. You moved to pull away in surprise, but his grip at the base of your skull kept you in place.

“He's listening in,” The words were murmured against you softly. Just barely separating from your mouth. Another firmer touch was your reward for not giving him away. His nose's tip pressed into your cheek as his chest moved closer. The other strong arm wrapped around you to hold you in place. “Did you bring what I asked for?” You nodded, the action brushing your lips against his again. Sending a small shiver down your spine.

“Cigarettes and salt,” Your purse was lowered from your shoulder gently as you whispered. Instead of getting into it, Dean dropped it to the ground. Never taking his gaze from your eyes. “I thought-”

“I'll get to those, later.” There was no nervousness as he leaned forward so slightly. Just enough to give you that sweet pressure, again. His eye lashes brushed against your skin as you responded unsurely. Wanting to lean into his touch, but the unaware piece of you held you back. “For now?” A low whimper left you when he pulled back, again. “What'd ya say we take advantage of this?”

It took a moment to understand what he was saying, “You set this up on purpose.” The low hiss didn't make it far. Your hands shoved at his shoulders to move him away. The smug jerk didn't even have to take a step back at the force. Too strong and solid to be cowed by an angry female. “Why?”

“Why not?” You found yourself retreating as he moved forward. Your body made it all of two steps before you tripped over your own feet. Instead of letting you fall backwards, you were hauled up against his broad chest, again. Held there by a force he'd gained by making heads roll. Literally. “I see the way you look at me, Y/N. If we would've gotten to be alone before now? I'd've had you on your back faster than you could blink.”

His words shouldn't have made a warm, sharp jolt of arousal shoot down to your loins. But, they did. And that son of a bitch knew it.

“We're not really alone.” The out was there. Or, so you thought. His filthy, shit eating grin promised you that he wasn't fazed by the officer's presence.

“He isn't going to ever see us, again, when this is all over.” His low timbre vibrated through his body, against you. “Who gives a shit what he hears.” You should have leaned backwards when he moved in to nip at your ear lobe. Instead, you found yourself gliding into the magnetic pull of him. Had you really thought you could resist Dean Winchester when he turned it on full blast? It was a mistake you silently promised yourself you'd never make again. He was far more potent than you'd given him credit for. “In fact, I hope he listens in. Hears what he's never going to have.” Slowly, he loosened his grip. Seeing if you'd try and escape again. You didn't. Those sinful lips of his drug upwards as he looked over at you. “Wanna help me make him jealous, sweetheart?” Your nails pressed against the prison garb he wore as a shaky breath snaked its way from your lips. “Wanna finally feel me fill that sweet little pussy of yours? Like you've thought about during all those long...steamy showers?”

“How- You listened in!” The outrage didn't have a chance to manifest as he sucked against the sensitive slope of your neck.

“Fuck yeah, I did.” He chuckled. Voice somehow deeper. The strength of it was enough to make your knees weak. “You ever listen to me?”

“N...No,” The stutter gave you away. You had. The broken, small gasps he'd released in the room when he'd thought you were sleeping had haunted you. But, you hadn't realized it had been you he'd been picturing as he'd pumped himself.

“Liar,” Dean called you out on it. Losing every bit of patience he'd ever carried. His hands lifted up to pull at the off the shoulder baby-doll top you'd worn to look less like a hunter, and more like the good girl that had been seduced by a bad boy. If only you'd realized that's exactly what was going to happen in that tiny room. “Did you think about me doing this?” The smooth slope of your breasts came into view as he talked. “Did ya get wet thinking 'bout it?” Then his hot mouth was on the skin he'd exposed. The open mouthed kiss made you arch towards him. Any resistance you'd had was gone. He owned your body in that moment.

“Yes.” Anyone who said honesty never paid off hadn't met Dean. You were pushed backwards until you were back against the cot. Left with the cooling damp patch he'd placed on your skin while the top he wore was tugged up and over his head.

It wasn't the first time you'd seen him shirtless. You had stitched him up more times than you'd cared to count using floss and a sewing needle. The jagged scars were more familiar to you than they'd be to him. But, it was the first time you'd seen him shirtless and on the prowl. Eyes darkening in anticipation as he took in the position he'd put you in.

“Take your shirt off, Y/N.” Slowly, you sat up. It wasn't hard to do what that deep voice ordered. Pulling the dainty material away from your skin was the easiest task you'd been given in ages. You watched the way his nostrils flared as he took in your bare breasts. In the end, you weren't sure if it was the cool air or that heave of his strong body at the sight that caused your nipples to harden without a touch. “Jeans,” He nodded towards the stylishly ripped pants that covered your lower body.

You kicked away the socks and shoes before doing as told. When you slid them down your legs, Dean swallowed audibly. The material clung close enough that you'd had to don a thin thong to prevent lines.

As a reward for your obedience, he shoved his own pants down. Leaving him in the black boxers he was known to sleep in when he stepped out of the telling orange. Only this time, the thick bulge you'd only caught glimpses of was stretching the material. Full and proud down a considerable length of the left thigh. Making it all that much more real.

“Are you gonna keep staring...or are you gonna give me what you promised?” The breathy challenge was all he needed to crawl onto the creaky bed you rested on while you spread yourself out over the blanket. His skin rubbing against yours was electric as he caged you in place with his weight.

Dean's kiss was more desperate that time. Teeth and tongues clashed as the need that had been ignored for so long came to a head. He slotted his hips between your thighs. Your hands wrapped into his short hair. His thick erection swelled impossibly larger against your core as he ground in. The thin pieces of fabric doing nothing to halt the warm friction.

As the coil inside of your belly tightened, his steady rocking increased a bit. The hard point of your sensitive nipples were rubbed by his pectorals as he moved. Your nails that slid across the roughed up flesh above you dug in every so often. Admiring the way the muscles gave, and then strained into your grip as you urged him on. Needing more.

The first time should have been slow. Tender, even. That's what every romance novel promised it was like after a long, slow burn. Nothing with Dean was ever that predictable. Instead, the way he pressed against your slit had you pushing over that first edge in no time.

You cried out in pleasure against his mouth as you clenched around nothing, “Shit, Y/N? Already?”

“It's your fault,” The whine left you as he helped you ride it out. Feeling the dampness of your arousal seep through the ruined panties right onto his boxers. Your cheeks were warm as you looked up at that smug face. A bit of sweat dotted your hairline from the sudden orgasm. “Shut up, Winchester.”

Your hand wrapped around the base of his neck so that you could pull him back down to you. He laughed against your lips in triumph while you grunted; trying to shove his boxers down his hips. Needing him inside of you that very moment.

“So impatient,” Dean murmured, pressing sweet kisses onto your mouth as he helped you on your mission. “It's fucking sexy.” The material went flying across the room before he tugged at your panties. Sending them in the same direction over his shoulders. Instead of ramming into you like you expected, he paused. “Jesus,” The calloused tips of his fingers traced over the swollen and soaked slit you presented him with. “So fucking wet for me.”

“I...I told you.” Your knees widened, letting him get a better view when he peaked downwards. Your palm rubbed over your breast as you sought out more friction. “Dean...I need you inside of me. Please?”

His groan wasn't the only one you heard. The peeping guard let out his own sound of pain. Somehow, you didn't find it in you to care.

“Come here,” The hunter lifted your ankle, and guided it up to his shoulder. Spreading you wider. “The other one, too.” His low, convincing tone held you captive. Following his order with an ease that should have scared you. This was Dean. The man you'd known since you were a kid. And he was about to fuck you senseless. “Good girl,” He praised, making your body melt further as your thighs strained. When you felt the hot tip of him nudge at your entrance, he grinned. “Like that?” You nodded at the hint of a stretch. You'd like it better if he'd snap into you further. Almost as if he could read your mind, he pushed forward. Giving you more of that fullness he'd promised. “How 'bout that, baby?”

“Fuck yes,” Your head rocked back as you moaned wantonly. Not caring how far your voice echoed. You wanted to move your hips. Wanted to him to bottom out inside of you right then and there. But, in the position he held you in, you could only grip at his ribs and try to urge him into what you needed.

“You're so tight like this,” His teeth gritted as he pulled out of your hold almost all the way. Only to slide right back in. A little deeper that time. Marveling at the way you sheathed his dick. “Hear that? Your pussy taking me?” The pornographic squish of his body pressing into you filled the air. “Fuck,” His head dropped when you clutched around him desperately. “You're so fucking perfect.”

Finally, he lowered his forehead the rest of the way down to yours. His breath fluttered over your face as he pinched the pine gaze shut. Parting his lips as he let you take him fully.

Your own eyes squeezed shut at the pleasure of it. How he throbbed so deeply inside of you. Dean's little breathy groan filled the air when you tightened your hold. Silently begging him to let loose.

The room didn't stay quiet long. You let out a strangled shout when he started picking up speed. His arms were ramrod straight as he gripped the mattress around your head. Bracing to get better leverage so that his thrusts could get harder. The angle shoving the tip of him against your cervix in a way that felt so good it almost hurt. He rubbed against your g-spot as if he'd mapped it out in advanced.

Dean's voice cracked as he talked you through it. Letting you know how good you felt. Just how much he liked the way you sounded, calling his name in that blissed out way. Choked groans mixing into the fray. Only becoming more frequent with each thrust. Losing himself in the hold your body surrounded him with.

Sweaty skin smacked together. His balls hit your ass. The cot creaked, and smashed into the wall at the force of Dean's hips rocking into the back of your thighs. Outside the door, Jax was getting a hell of a show.

“Dean...fuck! Don't...oh, god! Don't...don't stop.” You whined as you clawed up to his shoulders. Needing for him to let you get that high that was waiting impatiently inside of you. Your body tensed as he managed to brace himself on one arm. Reaching between your bodies to rub circles around your swollen clit. “D...Dean!” That was all it took for you to spiral.

He didn't slow. Fucking into your spasming channel faster. Sloppier, even, as he felt himself getting close. One thrust. Two. By the third, he lost it. Stiffening as he rocked forward. His orgasm sending the hot cum into your still quivering body.

“Fuck,” He growled out at the sensation of you milking him for all he was worth.

Once he could, Dean pulled away gently. Letting your legs fall bonelessly to the bed as you tried to steady your breathing. He wasn't any better. Face flushed, hair mused, and sweaty from all the work he'd put in.

“Remind me not to fall into any more traps. I don't think I can move,” Your arm dropped over your eyes. Too tired to appreciate the eye porn in front of you.

“Ten minutes,” A ragged sounding Jax warned from outside the door. You groaned at the thought of moving so soon.

“Get up, sweetheart. We'll spoon later.” Dean leaned back over you. The kiss he delivered was sweeter that time. Soft, even. Then, he swatted your thigh. Ruining it. “I'm keeping your panties. A souvenir. Something to get me through the cold nights, alone.”

Your eyes rolled. Knowing that he'd be out within two nights, according to the plan. But, you didn't call him on it as you forced yourself upwards. Feeling the burn he'd caused in your muscles.

“Whatever it takes,” You huffed out with another groan. He grinned in satisfaction at the noise as you dressed. Just as you tucked the goods into Dean's pockets, the door opened.

“Alright, break it up, you two.” The grumpy man ordered, tapping his baton in his hand as a warning. Looking more than a little frustrated from what he'd had to endure.

When your eyes lowered, you saw the problem. You wasted no time booking it out of there. Ignoring Dean's laugh as you moved.

“What's so funny?” Jax demanded as Dean shrugged into his jacket.

“That girl...” A low whistle left the still kiss swollen pink lips. “I think I'm gonna have to break out to give her a night she really deserves.” At the unimpressed look, he didn't stop. Focusing on the bounce of your ass as you moved away. “Man, I am freaking velvety smooth.”

“Yeah...you're a real prince.” The guard huffed out. “Get out of here.”

“Will do,” Dean grinned, moving back towards the cell block. Eagerly awaiting the reunion that was coming.

If you thought he'd keep his hands to himself after that, you were wrong. Poor Sammy was gonna have to start bunking, alone. If he didn't? Well, Dean decided that he might just have to get back into prison for a few nights, after all...

Forever: @dean-winchesters-bacon @supernaturalginger

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