#back to my agenda to draw men kissing

[goldnightshaade]

[vixensbrainrotts]

TR men reacting to little kids wooing you

Content: reactions

Tropes: established relationship

Warnings: none (lmk if im wrong)

Summary: A little boy, perhaps four or five of age comes waddling over to you two whilst you're out on a date together and offers you a flower, confessing his spontaneous love for you. How does your man react to that?

Vixen’s two cents: hi! This has been sitting in my drafts forever so i need to get it out cause it’s collecting cobwebs. It’s sort of a random idea but whatever, i found it entertaining. Also im editing this in the car and its giving me a stroke why is the road so fucking uneven? If you have any ideas for me to write please please please my requests ans messages are open! Yeah, let me know if there are any other characters that fit those types and enjoy!

(Takemichi, Chifuyu, Souya, Hakkai, Shinichiro, Sanzu (I don’t care what anyone says. Shy Sanzu is forever on my agenda), Inui)

Nearly deceased type, it took him so long to get you. How HOW is this little ass kid wooing you better than he could ever dream of? What the actual fuck was happening? He couldn’t believe his eyes when that actual toddler came up to you with a flower, the stem freshly plucked, and a glimmer in the kid‘s hopeful eyes. The boy had almost serenaded you the way he sang praises to you: „excuse me miss, you’re really pretty! Would you accept my flower please?“. And what was even more unbelievable, was when you giggled and accepted the flower giddily. Then the little boy crossed the line: „can I have a kiss in return Miss?“. And you did. You pecked the cheek of the boy meek two minutes after meeting him! Unbelievable! It took him 3 dates to even hold your hand. Outrizzed by a five year old.

(Nahoya, Mikey, Baji)

Ready to fight the kid. He's deadass about it too, rolling up his sleeves and cracking his knuckels and snapping the kinks in his neck, looking menacingly at that poor little boy. He doesn't care that this may be the kid's first crush, he'll crush him in return. You were his damnit and he was gonna prove it to anyone who tried him. Kids included. When you pull at his arm though, prompting him to calm down, he stops a little. What do you mean you dont want him to establish his dominance? He's genuinely stumped and just kinda stares at you for a second, watching you intensely as you lean down to the boy, whispering something in his little ear and taking the flower from him. The boy giggles at you, his former horror dissipated, instead replaced with a furious blush that spread all the way down his neck and up his ears. He blew you a kiss before skipping away, giddily going back to whatever he was doing beforehand. Your boyfriend turns you around by the shoulders immediately and gives you a harmless glare. “What the fuck was that about?” But he doesn’t get a response, as you just wrap your arms around him and laugh. “You’re so cute when you’re jealous!” Well… that wasnt the answer he was looking for but he’ll take it.

(Ran, Shion, Draken, Benkei, Wakasa)

Sitting back and watching the show. He finds the little kids advances hilarious and will gladly watch the little shrimp try to win you over whilst you’re trying your hardest not to burst out laughing. “So sweets, how old are you anyway?” The boy asks you with a smirk on his face. “Too old for you.” You answer incredulously, just about ready to cry from laughter. “No no no baby, no one has to know! It can just be between the two of us and that’s fineeee!” He draws out the syllables and leans one elbow on table you and your boyfriend are sitting at. Your boyfriend all the while has probably pulled out a phone, discreetly filming the whole thing whilst leaning back and hiding his tears. You shoot both boys an amused look and then answer the awaiting kid. “Come back to me in a few years and maybe we can arrange something, yeah?” The little kids eyes widen as he looks at you with a determined smile. “Yes! You won’t regret it! And I’ll beat up your wannabe boyfie over here once I’m strong enough too!” He exclaims and runs off leaving you howling in laughter and your boyfriend, who is suddenly enraged by a child, fumes silently, sending daggers across the room. “Relax baby.” You reach a hand over the table to hold his, wiping the tears from your eyes. “Don’t touch me.” He hisses and puts the phone down, crossing his arms in fake offense.

(Hanma, Kokonoi, Izana, Rindou)

The false hope typa guy. In this case, the boy made the mistake of coming up to HIM and innocently asking for your name. “Why, you like what you see?” Your boyfriend uses language much too mature for the little kid, but he gets a timid response of “yeah, she’s real pretty..” nevertheless. Your boyfriend chuckles and pats him on the shoulder. “I say go for it, I’m sure you’ve got a chance with her!” The little boy has wide eyes and an open mouth “Really? You sure she doesn’t have some super big ‘n scary boyfriend?” He has to suppress laughter when he answers. “I’m sure she doesn’t, go talk to her, ask her for her name and tell her that I said hi too.” And with that, he’s sent the kid on his way. Your boyfriend watches him shyly go up to you and pat your leg slightly to get your attention. He watches you smile down at the little boy and talk to him, your eyes widening and laughing when you exchange a few words with the kid. When he sees fit, he comes stalking over to the two of you and wraps his arm around your waist and smirks at the kid. “Hey there.” You greet your boyfriend and turn to look at him. “Have you met—“ he guesses that you’re about to introduce him to the little boy but he doesn’t care to listen, and leans down to shush your lips with a long, over-the-top kiss, even going as far as to cracking one eye open to look at the little boys horrified face before finally pulling away. You’re a little dazed and very confused when you look down and find your little admirer gone. You throw your boyfriend an accusing look but he only raises his hands in surrender, claiming innocent with a smug smile on his face.

[attapullman]

Question?! I’ve been having a war with myself trying to figure this out. Would Bob be possessive of his gf/wife? In any way. And yes I skipped on the fiancé bc I feel like Bob is probably the type to immediately start calling her his wife. Even before the proposal she was his wife.

OMG OMG OMG YES HE WOULD

All of the Bob Floyd-coded men I know are such lowkey possessive men.

When you're out somewhere and he sees some guy's eyes drift to your ass? He's immediately covering it with his hand and mumbling, "That's my ass" under his breath.

While out at the Hard Deck one night some guy tries to chat you up at the bar. Big ol' Bobby draws him to you the second you're back, planting you between his legs and wrapping an arm around you, kissing you sweetly on the forehead while glaring at the guy.

The Possessive Bob Floyd Agenda is very personal to me.

11/10 Bob is skipping right over to "my wife" because he doesn't half-ass anything. That ring is barely on your finger before he's telling the server his wife needs a refill. Whenever you correct him, he presses a rough finger to your lips. He's waited a long time to call you that, please give him this.

[moonlight--magician]

Gundam live blog ep 10

Notes: if I put it in full screen the filter turns off :(

Why are you distracted by char garma 3:13

ladies ladies one at a time with the gay man 3:25

“Hooh?” - char

Quit shoehorning your straight agenda there’s no way garma doesn’t kiss men. 5:12

No matter what Amuros resolve is “I can be a sacrifice!!” :(

He doesn’t see himself as a soldier yet but he is a child soldier :(

I don’t think they can hide for too long tbh

No kikka you don’t stick your tongue out at a crying baby 9:28

We will only draw them out if we bomb them” great logic guys 10/10

Garma does NOT wanna marry you he’s too gay for that..that mankisser- don’t “Garma-sama” a gay man.

That sequence looked weird I cannot put my finger on why 12:47-12:49

Char is willing to go down with his men for Garma. That’s gay.

I swear if garma gets a wife that would ruin his essence

Amuro future back pain counter:3

Are the zeons rlly ab to commit another war crime

Your plot is ramming into their base

The simple things in life char committing arson

IT EXPLODED?! Is Garma ok :((

HE BETTER RETURN I SWEAR

[comm-caribou]

Chapter Twenty-Three: What a Mess:

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Death, fighting (let me know if I missed any!)

————

The whole Galaxy stopped the minute that image came on that screen.

She heard every detail about that gold mask and the piercing blue eyes behind it. She could draw it, that’s how obsessed with her buir’s murderer she was when it happened.

When he died, she was broken and had no one to hold her together.

Now, she had a battalion of men who loved her and always had her back.

“I’m going to rip his damn head off.”

Digger took out the drive, and said, “please do.”

****

While others celebrated victory, Boomerang remained on the ground holding his brothers hand.

He was gasping for air as he died.

He said something between each shallow breath, “I want… to see.. I want to… see…”

“See what?” Boomerang urged.

“Sk… Sky…” he managed to get out.

“The sky?” Boomerang helped him lift his head, “it’s right there, vod. It’s right there. Don’t you see the blue?”

He nodded slightly before his eyes dilated.

The hand that was once gripping Boomerang’s so tightly fell limp, and the gasping stopped.

Boomerang lowered his head, feeling defeated despite victory.

“Come on, Boomerang,” Fury placed his hand on his back. “It’s time to set the charges.”

Boomerang sighed, then got up following Fury into the base.

Fury turned to him, “Boomerang, are you and Mirage—“

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Boomerang immediately cut him off.

“Well,” Fury said, “are you aware he broke his hand last night?”

Broke his hand?

“No.” Boomerang stated.

“It’s broken,” Fury said quietly. “He’s helping Grimm because he can’t do much.”

He replaced me with Grimm?

“Good for him,” he grunted.

Fury sighed, walking off, “I tried to warn you.”

Warn me about what? Whatever, I don’t care about Mirage anymore. I don’t want to care about him anymore.

****

Juliette held on tight to that drive, following Digger back out the way they snuck in.

He held out his hand, to help her onto his walker that he already climbed up onto.

She took his hand and said, “do you think the Jedi will go after him?”

“Probably,” he answered, “but they also have a lot on their war agenda. I heard that they’re turning a blind eye to slavery.”

“Makes sense,” she muttered, “considering one of the things I discussed with the Senators was your lack of rights and pay.”

“You can fight for it,” Digger chuckled, “but they don’t have the funds to do anything for us.”

“Great,” Juliette groaned, “they’ll let Ferris slip through the cracks.”

“Just have Hound make a copy before you give it to Vos,” he said, “trust me, he’d do anything for you.”

“That’s an exaggeration,” Juliette rolled her eyes.

Digger turned to her, “my little brother is still gushing over the fact you gave him a flower crown. He asked Dabbler to do some art craft thing so he could keep it forever and hang it in his bunk.”

“That doesn’t mean he’d do anything for me,” she replied, “that just means he liked the present.”

“Just you watch,” Digger started the walker, “he’ll do it without hesitation.”

“No,” Juliette sighed, “he won’t.”

****

“Of course I will,” Hound took the drive from Juliette’s hand, “just give me two seconds.”

Digger grinned under his helmet, “told you so.”

“I…” she slowly turned to him, “really?”

Calico snickered, “Hound here is big people pleaser, especially if he likes you.”

“Of course I like her,” Hound declared, “we all like her!”

Calico rolled his eyes, “and a kiss up.”

Hound handed her the original drive back, “I’ll hold onto this copy and give it to you when we’re back on the Stormrider. Deal?”

“Deal.” She took the drive, then turned to Digger, “thank you for your help.”

“Anytime,” he stated, “glad to have you riding with me.”

She went to walk away, but he didn’t want her to go.

He racked his brain for ideas to make her stay, just to keep talking to her for five more minutes.

“Let her go,” Calico said through the helmet comm.

Digger turned to him, seeing he placed his helmet back on in order to hide their conversation.

Digger sighed.

Calico clicked his teeth, and then the others were in the private comm despite being all spread out.

“Digger,” Calico said calmly, “you just broke up with Phara. You can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

“What?” Hound gasped, “you like the General?”

“Sarge, that’s a bad idea,” Mutt warned.

“Plus she’s way out of your league,” Zombie stated.

“Besides Zombie’s point,” Calico stated, “Digger needs to stop jumping from partner-to-partner.”

“I’m not doing that,” Digger sighed, “the first cheated, the second abused, the third I wasn’t ready for, the fourth was toxic, and the fifth was…”

He stopped himself.

“The fifth was what?” Hound urged.

“Great,” Digger sighed, “just not the right one.”

They were quiet, then Mutt said, “sir, you barely know Juliette.”

“That’s not…” he groaned, “I’m not saying Juliette is the one, I’m just saying I like how she looks at the universe. Maybe I just need to take some time out of dating too.”

They were quiet again, almost deafening.

“Nothing to say?” Digger asked.

“Sir…” Calico sighed, “she’s already dipped her toe back into the dating. That night we met her, she had just come from a date with Fox.”

Digger felt a jab in his chest.

We’re not even dating. We barely know each other. Yet, why does this hurt like this? Why did I have to like someone I obviously can’t have and shouldn’t be with? Why do I do this?

“That’s great,” Digger faked joy, “he’s a great guy and safe on Coruscant. She’ll be very happy with him.”

“Digger,” Mutt said softly. “It’s okay.”

“Of course it’s okay. We should get ready to go.”

“Wait, Di-“

He clicked his teeth cutting Zombie off, and hurried to his walker.

The fun was over with. He was done with this mission.

****

He hated that he was doing it, but as he set charges with Coyote and Cooper, Boomerang was looking for Mirage.

Ever since he snuffed him before the final battle, he hadn’t seen him. If Fury hadn’t mentioned it, he probably wouldn’t have even thought of Mirage until they got to the gunships.

“What’s wrong?” Coyote asked.

“Nothing,” Boomerang grumbled.

“Very believable, Boomerang,” Cooper huffed. “You might want to fess up and tell me what’s going on.”

“Why?” Boomerang scoffed. “Why should I tell you anything, Cooper?”

Cooper turned to him, and he could imagine the dark glare he was getting behind that hand printed visor.

“Because the General doesn’t like bullying, especially towards us clones.” Cooper stated, “Shadow didn’t come with us because of something I’m guessing Mirage did, and you’re being pretty short with him as well.”

“What’s it matter?” Boomerang set another charge.

“It matters because I just got sent a report regarding your malpractice!” Cooper snapped.

Boomerang whipped around, “malpractice?”

Coyote took out his datapad, “what report?”

Cooper tapped around, “this one.”

“Oh,” Coyote sounded disappointed, “Boomerang, there really is a report. It got sent out just after we took the base.”

Boomerang threw his arms in the air and stormed off.

Malpractice? Just because I didn’t know the moron broke his hand? How is that wrong on my end? We have another medic he could go cry to!

As soon as he got a moment alone with Mirage, he’d have words with him. His fists were itching to talk to him as well.

****

Juliette approached General Vos with the drive, involving all the information about other research bases and hiding grounds of Ferris. Along with all those torture devices he was planning to create or might have created.

Her head was already throbbing thinking of the medical droid he once created when they were both younger living on Vixnix.

To think I once I had a crush on this boy. Now he’s all grown up and making brutally, gory machines.

The Jedi turned to her, his smile dropping, “what’s wrong?”

“This is pretty disturbing stuff on here,” Juliette handed him the disk, “the man who is creating these devices is doing it for his own sick entertainment, and has no value for the lives he’s going to use them on.”

“Us, you mean.” Hardwire looked at the drive, then to her, “how bad are they?”

Thinking of Hardwire captured and put into any of those traps made her stomach twist in knots.

“If clones aren’t meant to get PTSD and be affected by battle stress,” Juliette stated, “you’d be a shell of a man you are now. That is, if you managed to get out of this monster’s sick games.”

Vos placed a hand on her shoulder, “General Trix, I thank you for all your help. However, if this information is as gruesome as you say, I need to leave right away and deliver this to the Jedi Temple. Can you finish up here?”

“I understand, Master Jedi, we can do that,” Juliette answered, “safe travels.”

“May the Force be with you,” Vos removed his hand and rushed off.

Hardwire nudged her awkwardly, “Juliette?”

Juliette turned to him.

“Don’t sugar coat it,” Hardwire pushed, “what are we in for?”

Juliette held out her hand, “the man’s name is Ferris Joster. He’s the boy I knew from childhood, and he is also the one who killed my father.”

Hardwire shuttered, slipping his trembling hand into her’s.

“I won’t let him hurt you,” Juliette squeezed his hand, “if he takes any of my boys from me, he’s going to die.”

I already am thinking of all the ways I’m going to brutally murder him.

****

The gunships landed, and they all boarded.

Since General Vos left, Digger had noticed Juliette had been going around checking on each of the men with Hardwire staying right beside her.

He wondered if she’d check on him. He hoped she would check on him and see how he’s doing after what they saw together. He wanted to believe that no one was feeding her rumors, although he could blame himself for not setting the record straight.

As he was watching her, Calico came over, “Hound and Mutt loaded on with Squirrel and Max.”

Digger turned to him, “but they ride with Tracks and Cosmos.”

“We know,” Calico pat his back, “load up.”

“But Cosmos doesn’t like me,” Digger hissed.

“He’s not going to leave you behind,” Calico snickered, “but if you’re so concern, I’ll load your walker on.”

“That’s not necessary, I’ll-“

“Hi, General.” Calico cut him off.

“Hi, Calico,” Juliette approached, practically dragging the Commander behind her as he was on his comm giving orders.

“Bad news, my dear,” Calico gripped Digger’s helmet visor shaking his head around, “this ARF is stuck riding with you. If he isn’t paying attention, knock on the helmet because he’s probably listening to music.”

“Duly noted,” Juliette turned to Digger, “hold out your wrist.”

“Okay?” Digger did as ordered.

“I’ll move your walker inside now,” Calico said moving onward.

Juliette typed on his comm, and then said proudly, “that’s my favorite song.”

“Great,” Digger already began switching his station in his helmet, “I’ll be listening to it on the ride home.”

“Excellent,” Juliette walked off dragging Hardwire.

He set the song to repeat, and got on the gunship as the music swelled into a grand, bouncy opening.

****

Mirage stayed in a corner, supporting a wounded brother with a bandaged up hand.

His armor up to his elbow was stuffed in his pack and his sleeve rolled up, so Grimm could get better access to the broken hand.

As much as he wanted to be mad, Boomerang felt sorry for him. His knuckles were swollen and discolored with bruising.

The ship landed with a gentle thump, and the doors opened to their hanger with landing crew already at work directing and helping pilots out of their ships.

Grimm came over to Mirage, taking the wounded trooper from him and passing him his medical pack to carry with his good hand.

Boomerang followed the crowd heading to the barracks and mess, keeping an eye on Mirage walking not that far ahead of him.

When they all branched off, Boomerang ran after him and slowing at his side.

Mirage kept his helmeted head straight ahead.

Boomerang switched into his private comm, “I didn’t know your hand was broken.”

“What’s it matter?” Mirage asked, “you said you never wanted to see me again.”

“I didn’t mean it,” Boomerang said. “I was cranky and tired. I had that dream again, and I just was so upset that you were there and you didn’t even hold me hand or try to calm me down.”

“Honestly,” Mirage sighed, “I was really mad at you for cutting your head open that I thought not holding your hand would be the perfect punishment. It wasn’t fair, and I’m sorry I did that to you.”

“I forgive you,” Boomerang frowned, “but… why’d you report me for malpractice?“

“What?” Mirage stopped. “I’d never do that. Not only that, I hate reports. As spiteful as it would be, my hand is broken and paperwork sucks.”

“Then, who reported me?” Boomerang asked, “did you tell someone anything?”

Mirage went quiet, “osik.”

“Who did you tell?” Boomerang pressed. “Pretty Boy, my medical position and license is on the line!”

“Mirage,” Grimm came back, “what’s the hold up? I need my stuff.”

Mirage said quietly into the private comm, “I told Grimm and Fury. But, Fury’s not like that, right?”

“Hello?” Grimm waved his hand in Mirage’s visor, “can you at least give me my pack?”

“Fury wouldn’t.” Boomerang slowly turned to the other medic, “but Grimm would.”

Grimm sighed, “Mirage, I’m sure whatever you two are talking about is so important, but I have patients to attend t-“

Boomerang suckered punched Grimm in his jaw, sending him stumbling to the side.

He turned to him appalled, “the Hell, Boomerang?”

As shocked as he was he did it, Boomerang clenched his fist and threw another swing. Grimm dodged his fist, and threw himself at Boomerang slamming him into the wall hard enough to knock his helmet off.

The air left his lungs, but he threw his elbow down on Grimm’s shoulder and brought his knee up into his gut. Grimm grunted, and threw him to the ground. Jumping on Boomerang’s abdomen, Grimm began throwing several punches that Boomerang barely blocked before he was being punched in the face repeatedly.

Boomerang’s attempts to fight quickly shifted to protecting himself as he tasted blood.

“Get off of him!”

Grimm was body slammed to the ground, and Boomerang spit out some blood.

“Boomerang, you okay?” Cooper knelt down.

“The heck are you two doing?” Hardwire barked. “Someone contact Mutt to help Kit. What happened Mirage? Cosmos! He’s down! Get off of him!”

Boomerang felt someone stroking his head, he turned his swollen face up to Mirage.

“You okay, Doc?” Mirage asked.

Boomerang managed a smile, “only my favorite brother is allowed to call me that.”

“Shut up,” Mirage put his arms under his armpits, “you called me Pretty Boy first.”

Boomerang groaned as Mirage dragged him off.

“I’m sorry, Pretty Boy.”

“I’m sorry too, Doc. Now shut up before you say something else you’ll regret.”

[softguarnere]

Totally loved your Shifty fic. I'd like to request something with the same prompt, if it's okay.

[ no tears ] – for the sender to cup the receiver’s face and brush away their tears with their thumbs.

[ what a rush ] – for the long long overdue kiss to end, only for the sender to rest their head on the receiver’s, and comment “do you know how long I’ve wanted to do that?”

The sender is reader, and the receiver is Toye or Babe.

xoxo

I Don't Want You to Hide Your Issues (Blow Them into Your Tissues)

Babe Heffron x reader

A/N: If you guys thought that I was excited for my soft!Speirs agenda, know that I am ready and willing to provide soft! content for the other boys to :) Anon, I'm so glad you liked the Shifty fic, and I hope you like this one! Thanks for the request 💕

Warnings: Smoking, mentions of war, slight angst, more poorly written kiss scenes by yours truly (Also, is kissing NSFW? I genuinely don't know, but if it is, then this is your warning, because there's a kiss)

"Thought that I might find you here."

You take another long drag from your cigarette and lean back on your elbows, looking up from where you're lounging on the grass. Austrian sunshine warms your face, but Babe's sudden sunshine warms your soul. Although, from something on his face, a cloud has seemed to blow in on a breeze out of nowhere, casting a shadow over his mood in a way that only his close friends would recognize.

You blow a smoke ring. "Oh really? You know me so well."

"Nah. Lucky guess, actually." The Philly boy flops down on the grass beside you. Nimble fingers pluck your cigarette away and he inhales deeply from it before he passes it back to you. "For the record, my team was winning." He gives you a sideways glance, teasing. "Is that why you stepped away? Sore loser?"

Right, the baseball game. Only a few moments ago, you had been intent on beating Babe's team, but the field has been cleared of the equipment and abandoned by the men as they all raced away, distracted by the flood of giddiness at the announcement of the war being over and a victory for the Allies.

"I didn't step away; everyone else was leaving. I just wanted a moment alone, to take it all in."

"Yeah. Me too, I guess." He shifts so that he can better look at you. You let him. You like looking at him. You like it when he looks at you. It's been like this ever since he joined the company.

You just wish he would do something about it.

Or rather, that he had done something about it. The war is now over, you have to remind yourself, and you'll be headed home soon.

To allow Babe another minute to admire you in the sunshine, you take another drag from your cigarette, exhale the smoke and ask, "What are you thinking about?"

Usually, he would give you a funny or sarcastic answer. Today, he says nothing -- he only gasps, sharp and painful.

"Babe?" When you turn to him you can see the tears glittering on his cheeks as the afternoon sunshine hits them. His long, pale fingers tangle in the grass as he trembles, crying while he looks at you.

"Hey, hey, Babe. What's wrong?" Carefully, you put out the last bit of your cigarette and sit up on the grass, turning to him. You should comfort him, somehow, but how do you comfort someone when you don't know why they're crying to begin with?

Gently, you bring your hands up to his face and turn it towards you. Sadness fills his eyes as he draws a shaky breath. Using your thumbs, you carefully brush away the tears that cascade down his cheeks, just like your loved ones used to do for you when you were a child -- something that feels like a hundred years ago since you joined the paratroopers.

"Babe, what's the matter?" You try to keep your voice calm, but you can't hide the shake that comes through in an undercurrent of uncertainty. "Why are you crying? We won the war. And you won the game."

A noise somewhere between a laugh and a watery gasp escapes him. One of his hands untangles itself from the grass and comes up to find yours where it still rests on his cheek. "Because we're goin' home now, (Y/N). Me to Philly, and you . . ."

"To my hometown," you finish. Only moments before, your heart had felt light at the prospect of going home -- back to your family, your friends, a familiar bed. Now, Babe's words make it sink a little.

"I'm worried, too," you assure him. "I'm not the person I once was; the war changed me. I'll go home expecting everything to go back to normal, but what if I can't? What if I no longer belong there?"

Babe nods. "Yeah. Yeah, I think we're all a little worried about that. But the thing I won't be able to get used to is not seein' you every day."

Oh. In your chest, your heartbeat falters as you try not to get your hopes up.

"God," his sigh is sharp. "I wanted to tell you so many times, and not like this. Jesus Christ, I'm a mess." He laughs, but it's hollow -- not his usual, upbeat, Philly-tinged guffaw. You move your hands as he brushes away his own tears. "(Y/N), I don't wanna go home if it means not seein' you again."

He rushes on before you can react. "I mean, yeah, I could write you letters or call you up on the phone, but God, it just wouldn't be the same. I don't think I could stand it, knowin' that you're miles and miles away, and that one day we might stop replying to each other because life picks up, gets too busy. No -- I wanna wake up and see you're smilin' face, and I wanna make you coffee and sing off-key to make you laugh --" He cuts himself off, his face turning as red as his hair as he takes in your wide-eyed expression. "Sorry. I just couldn't go on having not at least told you, even if you don't feel the same." In all the time you've known him, you can't remember him ever sounding embarrassed. "Sorry."

Your breathes somehow feel both heavy and not deep enough as you try to take it all in. From the moment you met him, from the second you heard him laugh as he joked around with Bill and Joe in that pub, you had wanted to be something more than his friend. And now he's sitting in front of you, crying, like a man making his final confession. Once, you had allowed yourself to imagine confessing your feelings to him. You had tried to work out what you would say. But now the moment is here, and you don't know what to tell him.

Instead, you move your hand along the grass and take his, stopping it from tearing up the Austrian soil. You place your other hand over his and can only manage a whisper of, "That's what I want, too."

He looks up. "You do?"

"Yes. All this time."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because I was scared," you admit, even though it feels stupid to say now, when anyone could tell from looking at the two of you that you've felt the same way this whole time. "Why didn't you?"

Babe shakes his head, smiles a little. "I was scared, too."

"Can I - ?" You gesture vaguely between you. "I mean, can we - ?"

"Yes," Babe replies. "God, yes!"

His lips are a little chapped from where he always bites them when he's thinking, but his kiss is soft when your mouths crash together. Despite the firework show happening in your chest, you move your mouth slowly, determined to make it last. Babe's hand comes up to hold your face, and you run one of your hands through the back of his hair, making him gasp. When you finally surface for air, his breath is shaky, but no longer from crying. He smiles when you rest your forehead against his.

You let out a laugh, suddenly giddy. "Do you know long I've wanted to do that?"

Babe laughs again, coming back to his usual self. "Well in that case, maybe we should do it again."

You slap his shoulder, but there's no malice in it. "Only if you promise to kiss me that good every morning when we get back to Philly."

The Austrian sunshine cannot compare to the grin that lights up his face. "Doll, you've got yourself a deal!"

[thewayshedreamed]

Nessian prompt:

We’re playing truth or dare and I just got dared to sit on your lap for the next two rounds but now I’m sitting on your hard-on and I’m kinda getting turned on cuz the ✨positioning✨. We’re both tryna fix the situation without drawing attention to us but the fidgeting definitely isn’t helping 👀

Thanks for the prompt, Bby! I know you sent it as part of my follower celebration, but it worked so well for @nessianweek Day 4: Rivalry that I couldn't pass it up.

Enjoy!

Warnings for strong language and mature themes. Slightly nsfw.

--

Nesta didn't know the last time she played Truth or Dare. She thought those days had left her at some point during undergrad, but apparently not. There she was, her last semester of graduate school, somewhat invested in a round of the game. The group had been playing for almost an hour, the drinks they poured becoming more and more stout as the night went on.

Gwyn and Emerie had convinced her to join them for a night out with the others, and to be fair, it had been quite some time since she'd allowed herself a carefree night out. Her sisters and Mor were there, as well as Rhys, Azriel, Cassian, and Lucien. Amren mentioned she would "see how things went", which meant she and Varian were staying in to fulfill their own agenda. There was no doubt that was for the best since their activities would likely scar them all.

It was Mor's turn, and her mischievous smile turned on her girlfriend. "Truth or Dare, Em?"

Emerie considered it for a moment, making a show of staring at the ceiling. One of the guys made a sound similar to a ticking clock, but she paid them no mind.

"Truth."

"Okay," Mor drawled, taking a long sip of wine. "Fuck, Marry, Kill; for Rhys, Azriel, Cassian."

Emerie's eyes grew wide, snapping to Feyre and back to Mor. Nesta dared to chuckle at her friend's tight position, earning a pointed glare reserved for the worst of traitors.

"Don't hesitate on my account," Feyre giggled, resting her head on Rhys' shoulder. "I'm curious."

"That's not a fair one!" Emerie argued, gesturing with her hands. "The answer is none of the above, on all counts. For more than one reason."

The three men had the audacity to look miffed at her rejection, even though none of them had any interest in Emerie. They'd all known each other too long for any blurred lines. Mor leaned heavily against her, a look of apology in her rounded, brown eyes.

"Fair enough," she conceded, pressing a kiss to Emerie's cheek.

"That's not how it works!" Cassian challenged. It was unclear whether his ego or strict principles motivated his outburst.

Nesta fought the urge to roll her eyes, to rise to the challenge in his voice like she usually did. But Emerie was her friend, and she wasn't going to take him pushing her lying down. The words left her with more snark than usual.

"Oh, would you come off it?"

His eyes snapped in her direction, locking in on her face like a predator circling prey. "Let me guess. You have an opinion."

Nesta's blood boiled, despite the fact that she told herself Cassian wouldn't get under her skin the next time they were around each other. She was 0 for... hundreds at that point.

"She answered it truthfully, so I don't see the problem."

"It's the way the question was framed, though. It's a game within the question. There were three options. 'None of the above' wasn't one of them."

Nesta loosened the reins on her eye rolling. Cassian was good for that. "No one made that rule."

"Sweetheart, the rules are pretty clear. But if you want to make sure they stay nice and loose so you can back out later, I get that."

Emerie cleared her throat, eager to redirect his challenge before the two of them escalated. "Show us how it's done, then. Truth or Dare, Cassian?"

His attention lingered on Nesta a moment longer, a familiar glint in his eyes. Her blood heated for an entirely different reason, and she was sure to berate it for doing so.

"Dare."

"I dare you to kiss Azriel," she said, grinning around the rim of her glass. "On the mouth."

Azriel pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, resigned to his fate. He knew Cassian better than anyone, and it was only a matter of time.

Without hesitation, Cassian said, "Oh, done. Tongue?"

A chorus of laughter drowned out Azriel incredulous curse in Cassian's direction. When she finally recovered, Emerie took mercy on Azriel and excused any tongue. Cassian didn't hesitate to lean toward Azriel, cupping him roughly by the back of the neck and planting a full kiss to his mouth. There were catcalls all around; not at all needed in the encouragement department.

Azriel turned his attention to Feyre, fully succumbing to his soft spot for her and letting her off on the easiest Truth ever. It was something to do with who she would most like to draw or paint of the lot of them, excluding Rhys. No surprises on her choice of Azriel himself, but to his credit, he didn’t preen at the compliment. He humbly nodded as if anyone alive wouldn’t want to catch those angles on canvas.

“Nesta,” Feyre called, interrupting another quip she had been prepared to launch Cassian’s way. She couldn’t remember why. “Truth or Dare?”

She took a long pull of her drink and licked her bottom lip. “Dare.”

“Hmm,” Feyre considered, and Nesta had to admit to being slightly terrified of how diabolical sibling could be in a game such as the one she played. It didn’t take long for her to realize she’d been right to feel that way. “I think you two need to learn to get along. I dare you to sit on Cass' lap. Minimum of two full turns.”

Nesta’s nostrils flared. Cassian’s red hot challenge bore a hole into the side of her head, and all she could hear was his taunt from before.

Sweetheart, the rules are pretty clear. But if you want to make sure they stay nice and loose so you can back out later, I get that.

She snapped her attention to his face, suppressing the urge to throttle him for the narrow-eyed smirk he offered. Angling his large body backward, he draped a muscled arm across the back of the couch and eased his thighs open. Cassian wouldn't be the one to back down, she realized.

"Fine." Nesta threw back the rest of her drink and set it roughly on the nearby table.

Cassian's eyes were sparkling, his smile feline. He tapped his thigh with his free hand to goad her, and she wondered if he— if they— would ever tire of the constant challenges. Nesta sauntered over and dropped heavily into the center of his lap, earning a loud oof.

"Fuck, Sweetheart," he fussed, gripped her waist in his large hands to rearrange their position.

The heat of his hands, the scrape of his calluses; they came together to monopolize her focus. She was almost sure that others were amused by their display, but her world was singularly focused.

Cassian cleared his throat while he eased her into a position that better balanced her weight. The tension eased from her thighs as she settled, only for him to shift her again. Nesta let out an exaggerated sigh at his constant fidgeting. The only silver lining to the near motion sickness she'd no doubt endure as a result was the steadiness of his grip against her.

The reason for all his maneuvering revealed itself seconds later. Nesta had been initially impressed with the muscle tone in his thighs, how firm the muscles felt beneath her. They were nothing in comparison to the very obvious hardness pressing against the swell of her ass.

Animated conversation continued around them, and Nesta took the opportunity to turn and offer an accusatory glare. He hissed against the pressure of her movement, sending her eyebrows into her hairline.

"Are you really h—"

"Shh!" Cassian ordered, clamping a hand over her mouth. "Can you not announce that shit to the entire room?"

Nesta blinked incredulously and dragged her tongue against his palm. He grimaced, rubbing his palm against his jeans as if she'd poured acid onto his skin.

"It's not my fault you can't... control that," she hissed.

"Well, shit, Nesta. When's the last time you had a beautiful woman on your lap and had to keep your boner in check?" His whisper was low, frantic. There were words that latched onto her nerves and left goosebumps in their wake, even when she barely heard them.

"It's only two turns," she managed, swallowing against the dryness in her throat. "Then, it'll be a non-issue."

Cassian's hands clung to her hips once more, the delicious grip of them even firmer than before. "You can't get up now; not in front of them." He gestured with a jerk of his chin to the rest of the room. "They're savages."

A laugh bubbled out of Nesta's chest, and surprisingly, it was more due to the unlikely alliance forged by biology than her pleasure in his panic. The irony wasn't lost on her, but she didn't get to dwell on it for long before Cassian started strategizing.

"We're supposed to get along, right?" He paused, waiting for the excessive noise level to settle around them. Someone must have performed a solid dare, and Nesta was mildly concerned that it hadn't managed to be a blip on their radar. "You're gonna have to keep fighting with me."

A smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. "To be clear, you want me to argue with you so that we can hide this?" She rocked back into him for emphasis, and a pained sound left him. Nesta was grateful for the small silver lining that was her private arousal, otherwise she and Cassian would be in the same boat. The way his eyelids fluttered didn't help.

"I'm asking your for a small favor. When I get my shit together, you're free to go. I'm not exactly happy about it either."

Another smile teased her lips. "Small?"

"Mother's tits. Just turned around."

Nesta complied, if for no other reason than to hide the chuckle she'd been trying to choke down throughout the conversation. They engaged with the others as nonchalantly as possible, ignoring each other completely until opportunities arose to take opposing stances on anything at all. The rules of the game. Who brought the best drinks. If someone had successfully completed their dare or answered their question. Cassian had been correct in assuming the group would advocate for their continued canoodling since they weren't yet cooperating with one another.

"Nesta," he almost growled, sometime after a dozen turns of their faux discord. "This isn't helping."

She whipped around, noting the pained expression on his face. "Wait, is this working for you?"

Cassian squeezed his temples between his thumb and middle finger, looking as if he was in as much disbelief as her. The tragic part was that the arguing hadn't curbed her own body's reactions to him, either.

"That's what it looks like."

Nesta didn't cage it then, the full and melodic laughter that shook her shoulders and made her eyes water. He continued bracing his head in his hand while she delighted in his torture.

"That's awfully kinky of you."

"Alright, enough out of you," he grumbled, situating her for the hundredth time. "You have any better ideas?"

Tears pooled in her eyes, and she flicked them away. "I guess your only choice is to wait until the game ends, or someone causes enough commotion for you to adjust and take a break for a few minutes."

Cassian huffed, clearly unimpressed with her tactics.

"You'll just have to trust me, of all people, to keep your secret in the meantime," she stated, turning her attention back to the room.

His only response was a muttered curse before she felt his forehead drop between her shoulder blades.

[theglitterypages]

#49, #33 and #51 with canonverse!Levi

From prompts 33, 49 and 51.

Prompts List

Levi Masterlist

Title: When Jealousy Kicks In

Pairings: Levi x fem! reader

Summary: Levi is secretly an insecure man, especially when it comes to being a lover, that's why when the two of you started seeing each other he chose to keep the relationship private. He's totally afraid of how people around the two of you would react because deep down inside him he feels like he doesn't deserve you. He's having problems in expressing his feelings but he's trying his best to be the best version of himself for his lover but seeing how other cadets or officers flirt with you he couldn't help but be jealous.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2000+

NOTE: Sorry if it took me so long to respond, I'm a bit busy in school :< hope you'll like this one.

•••••

Levi was quietly standing as he observes you interact with the cadets, your face is stern as you command them.

Levi could clearly see how the Cadets gets distracted whenever you walk past them, he couldn't help but draw in a deep breath, you seem oblivious of how the men in the Scouts sees you. However, every single stare doesn't escape from his sight, the way those ears get red every time you'll approach them and tell them to fix their postures, the way the cadets gets flushed whenever you smile when you see that they're doing a good job in their training.

Levi knows what they feel because he feels the same, despite of being unable to express his feelings for you openly because he chose to keep the relationship private, he still find a way to watch your every move whenever he has the chance.

He already memorized the meaning of those little gestures, you'll tuck some strands of your hair behind your ear with a pout to keep yourself calm and your brows would met whenever you see the cadets slacking off.

He knows you'll bite your lip because you're getting bored and he knows why you're tapping your fingers on the side of your legs whenever you're organizing your paper works.

Levi is shocked of himself, he's surprised of how he was able to memorize those small details but despite of the fact that he knows you too well, he's envious of how other men can openly express their admiration towards you.

He couldn't do that, aside from the fact that he's kind of shy, he never experienced this before and the only time he was able to feel the feeling of being loved, was when his mother was still around.

It's been years of coldness not until you came in his life.

“Captain? Commander Erwin is looking for you.” says Eren.

Levi snapped out of his thoughts and stood up, he gave a nod to the teen before heading to Erwin's office.

“We'll be waiting for Hanji and Captain YN before we proceed.”

Levi lazily sat down on the chair and waited for you, he purposely dragged a chair beside him so he could give you a sign to sit down beside him, hoping he could hold your hand secretly under the table.

When you finally came with Hanji, your eye immediately settled on his gray ones and you let out a small smile after seeing him took a glance on the chair placed on his left, you knew what he wants so you walked towards him and sat on the chair he saved for you.

“Thanks.” you whispered quietly before giving his thigh a gentle tap under the table, Levi hid his smile by looking down on his lap and clearing his throat, Erwin looked at your direction but later on proceeded to his agenda.

“According to Hanji, the experiments that she's been conducting is going well so far. If this would go on we can proceed to our original plan.”

You listened to Erwin's plan, even if you already heard about it. You're just preparing yourself to give some suggestions in case you hear anything that appears to be risky.

But who are you kidding? If it's Erwin everything is risky, you've been working for him for so long yet there are still times where you're left in the dark, not that you mind it but sometimes it pisses you off whenever something changes without you knowing.

Levi on the other hand is getting bored, aside from the fact that he's sleep deprived, Erwin is talking for so long, he actually think that Erwin would've been a priest if he didn't became a commander.

Maybe he will be one once he retired.

To fight the urge of falling asleep, he looked at you in his peripheral vision, he loves how your slightly pouting your lips as you concentrate to Erwin's never ending story telling.

His eyes then traveled down to your lap where you're tapping your fingers in a rhytm he doesn't know about, a small smile made its way across his lips and he looked up to see if everyone is busy listening to Erwin and when he saw that everyone's eyes are on Erwin, he slowly set his hands on top of yours, gently intertwining your fingers.

You were taken aback but when you looked at Levi his eyes was already on Erwin, you'll jusy pretened that you didn't see those blush in his cheeks.

It is not usual for Levi to do something like this but your boyfriend is unpredictable in terms of physical contacts and you don't want him to be more awkward if you would react dramatically.

•••••

When the night came, Levi was almost done in his paper works but he chose to stop working and decided that he'll just do it all tomorrow, just like what he was always doing every night, he secretly made his way to your room and knock for four times.

It is a secret code, you'll know that it's Levi depending on how many knocks you've heard and at that night you were about to sleep because you thought he wouldn't sleep beside you so you were surprised to hear him knock on your door.

When you opened your door, you were greeted by his tired eyes, you immediately reached for his hand and you dragged him inside before closing the door quietly.

You pulled him towards the bed and he sat with a sigh, “Is it fine if I'll sleep here?” you chuckled and nod your head before pressing a kiss on the tip of Levi's nose.

When the two of you decided to lay down on the bed, Levi kept you close in his chest as he caress your hair with his eyes closed.

You couldn't help but be suspicious of his actions, there's something wrong and you can feel it, he's holding you so tight but not enough to hurt you but it is enough to tell you that Levi is in need of some sort of reassurance from you but you have no idea what kind of reassurance it is that he needs.

“Lev, do we have a problem?”

“Brat, what are you talking about?”

“Something's bothering you, I can feel it.” you slowly pushed him away from you, looking up at him with a worried look on your face, “I'm just tired and I need you, is that a problem?” he asked you softly, you froze as you looked in his eyes, trying to see if he's lying.

“I have no clue of what’s bothering you, so can you at least give me a hint?”

“I just...I want you close to me because I need rest.”

“Fine.” you sighed, you hugged him sideways and let your head rest in his broad chest as he hums. “I love you.” he kissed the top of your head and you hugged him tighter with a smile plastered on your lips, “I love you too, Levi.” you responded.

•••

You were the first one to wake up and when you are greeted by Levi's peaceful sleeping figure, you've decided to leave him so he could sleep more.

You knew how Levi couldn't sleep the way other people sleep, his mind is actually much active at night and the responsibility that he bears is also not helping.

That's why you carefully get dressed and when you're done you carefully kissed him in his forehead before walking out of the room.

But the moment you closed the door, you realized that some may see Levi going out of your room and once that happens, everyone will find out that the two of you are seeing each other.

You agreed to keep the relationship secret to avoid interference of other people in your relationship, you were about to go back to your room to wake up Levi but Hanji suddenly appeared, waving at you with a playful smile on her face.

“Oi, Captain. The Cadets are out, except the new Levi squad of course but the whole building is ours.” She laughed loudly and you got worried that Levi might wake up and see what's going on so you immediately drag Hanji away from your room.

“We should prepare for breakfast!” you told her nervously, Hanji frowned at you for a moment but she later on smiled, she loves the food you cook so she really want to see you prepare breakfast, thank goodness she didn't notice your awkwardness.

•••

“Captain L/N, Captain Levi is asking for your presence.” Armin walked towards you with a smile, you pat the blonde teen's head and proceeded to make your way to Levi's office.

You don't have to knock on his office, Levi wouldn't mind it at all.

When you opened the door of his office, his eyes immediately shot upwards and he met your gaze, a small smirk formed in the corner of his lips and you frowned as you sat at the chair across his before leaning forward to give him a quick kiss on his lips.

“So? What’s so urgent that you had to call me so early in the morning?” you teased.

“I just wanted to see you again.”

You were the one frozen in your seat at how natural those words escaped from his lips, Levi smiled at you and his eyes went back to his paper works.

“And it's not early, you didn't wake me up before you go.”

You pouted and reached out for his face, you caged his face inside your hands and slightly pinch both his cheeks.

“Sorry, you look so peaceful earlier and I knew that you're so tired Lev.”

Levi's expression softened as he look at you, he didn't mind sleeping for a long time if it's your order but he's disappointed that he didn't get to see you first thing in the morning, he slowly took your hands off his face, he placed the files on top of his table on the right side before he looked at you.

“Sit on my lap.”

You stood up to comply to his orders and when you've got to sit on his lap, he kept you close to his chest, his hands caressing every parts of your body that he could reach.

As much as you love the attention and the way he's doing it, you realized that Levi is extra sweet and more clingy than usual. You looked up at the raven haired man with your brows furrowed, your hands rested on his chest.

“Did you do anything wrong, Levi? Is there anything you wanna tell me?”

“Yes..”

"What is it? I swear Levi Acker—”

“I love you.”

It's official, your heart has died because of too much affection and love from your man.

You blinked for a few times before slapping his chest, "I love you too but I know that something is wrong, so please can you tell me? We promised not to keep secrets right?” Levi looked down at you and you see how different emotions flashed through his gray eyes.

Levi was amazed of how well you knew him, sometimes it really feels like you can read his mind and as silly as it sounds, he kinda believes that it is because you're destined for him.

“I just want to be better for you. I want to be a good lover.”

“Ahuh? You're not my Levi, bring back my Levi you imposter!”

“What do you mean?" He asked softly.

You gasped and stood up from his lap, while pointing your finger at him. “You—You've changed.” you told him.

Levi looked down on his lap, specifically on his hands placed on top of his lap as he recalled how you were talking with the married scouts while feeding the horses.

Flashback

“Ralph, how's your lovely wife?” you asked as you gently pet the horse in front of you.

“Still a happy wife, Cap. I spent the week off on our house, just the two of us catching up.”

You nodded knowingly and proceeded to feed the horse, when you were done you looked back at Ralph and pat him in his back proudly.

“That's a real man, never forget to give love and affection to your wives my dear comrades. That's the key to a happy marriage.”

“How about you, Captain? You're still not saying yes to one of your suitors? You probably have high standards don't you?”

A chuckle escaped from your lips, of course they had no idea that you're already seeing Levi but you decided to share something about yourself. “I don't ask for much, I just need someone who would take care of me, someone to talk to and a lover who's also a great companion.”you proudly stated, the soldiers around you nodded in agreement and clapped their hands.

“There are many men on the queue, Captain.”

••••

“I'm not the man that you want that's why I'm trying to—”

You had to cut him off by kissing his lips, Levi's eyes widened but he wrapped his arms around your waist and pull you to his lap, you ran your hands through his raven hair before pulling away with a smile. “I was describing you, Lev. Before you became my lover you were my companion and till now you never fail to take care of me. Don't overthink because I love you.” you looked in his eyes and you saw how it glistened.

“I realized how I could be cold most of the time and I want to...I want to change myself so I could be deserving for your love.”

“You've always been deserving and I don't want you to change because I love you as you but I want to ask a favor.”

Levi held your hand and kissed the back of it before looking straight into your eyes as he waits for the next thing you would say. “Spill it.” he whispered.

“Just keep me close and don't let me go.”

“You don't have to tell me that.” he smirked before leaning forward to press his lips against yours, his hands went back to your hips, pressing you against him as he let out a sound you never heard from him before.

You raked your hands through his hair as you gasped after you felt him bite your lower lip, he took it as an opportunity and dart his tongue forward, exploring the territory that still feels new despite of the fact that he's already explored the insides of your mouth a lot of times already.

It was time to pull away for both of you to breathe and Levi's chest rose and fell while a smile is written all over his face.

“Marry me.”

Your mouth gaped open in surprise as you feel tears started forming at the corner of your eyes. “I would love to but why is it so..sudden? You're scaring me.” a low chuckle escaped from his lips and he licked his lower lip as he look at you.

His eyes was just like the night where he confessed to you, just like the time where you first kissed him on his lips.

“I can't see you with any other man, I would die once that happens and I wouldn't want any other woman to bear my child. I love you, I love you so much so marry me? I can give you time to think about it.”

“I wouldn't want anyone else to be my husband Levi.”

Levi smiled as he pulled you close to his chest he hummed happily as he caress your back, “In the middle of my endless battle and nightmares I find my peace by your side. Despite of the fact that I'm used to cold I still seek for your warmth.” Levi has always been a man who's not afraid to face his everyday alone, he had nothing to lose—once had nothing to lose but ever since you came into his life, he found himself coming back to you to feel your warmth, to remind himself why he has to fight, he keeps on coming back to you to find peace.

In the world full of chaos, he found his peace and it is you all along. He looked down at your hands Intertwined in his and he couldn't help but smile of how your hands fits in his as if it was made for him. As a smile made its way into his lips he showered kisses on the top of your head and you giggled.

Levi frowned as he playfully poked your sides. “Don't you laugh at me brat. I just want to make sure that you know how I feel.” you slowly moved away from him and smirked as an idea popped inside your head.

You really have to avoid a deeper conversation because you might end up crying, the words he said are too powerful to ignore but maybe you'll cry about it when you're alone.

“Believe me, I do. Bring back my grumpy Levi, now. I miss his insults.”

“I don't want to. You'll end up sulking asking me to break up with you.”

“I'm not marrying you anymore.”

“See? I didn't even start.”

[jjungkookislife]

Secret ||PJM || Pt. 5: I’ll Be Good (M)

pairing: sugar daddy!jimin x sugar baby!reader

genre: smut, angst, some fluff

wc: 5.1k

warnings: [not in order] cursing, mentions about mental health (depression and anxiety), loneliness, daddy!kink, pet names (baby, baby girl, babe, good girl, doll, love), alcohol use/mentions, spit kink, choking, nudes, oral sex, nipple play, marking (hickeys, bruising, biting), hair pulling, thigh riding mentions, unprotected sex, mention of birth control, jealousy, possessiveness, creampie

date: March 31, 2021

The last thing Jimin wanted to be was stuck in a meeting with men who still didn’t trust him with the company, despite his great efforts. He made sure to keep his demeanor hard— frigid— refusing to allow them to see him as weak. It took a toll on him, a large heavy weight on his mental health, but he wasn’t going to dwell on that now because he had you to help him carry the burden.

You.

You were wonderful in his eyes. Smart, beautiful, funny, but that mouth of yours often got you in trouble. You liked to push his buttons, liked to rile him up to see how far he’d go. You were a brat at heart, but a princess at any other time when it suited you. He lov—he liked that about you.

Ever since he had first met you, he’d been drawn to you. He wasn’t sure if it was your smile, your laugh, or the way your eyes caught his at the bar of some party he couldn’t even remember the occasion of. You smiled at him, excusing yourself from the man that had been chatting you up. Jimin paid him no mind as you strutted toward him, head held high and your drink clasped in your perfectly manicured hand.

You were stunning. A true vision in your red dress that hugged your body just right. Your makeup was spectacular and as he eyed you shamelessly, you giggled. He knew he was gone then, more so when you smiled brightly at him, hand held out for him to bring to his lips to kiss as you told him your name.

Jimin repeated it, as sweet as a lullaby. Your hand remained in his after introducing himself, not wanting to let you fall through his fingers. He was the envy of every man in attendance that night, but a quick romp in the sheets wasn’t what he was looking for, and frankly, neither were you.

After the night of the party, Jimin contacted you. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking of you, fantasizing about all the naughty things he’d like to do to you... if you’d let him. You were eager, a pawn in his hand, ready to bend at his whim… for compensation.

You were a sugar baby. And definitely not a new one. You knew your way around, knew your worth, and knew when someone just wasn’t going to pay up. But Jimin would. Of course he would. Companionship, sex, and a pretty face with a personality that drew him in, keeping him on his toes… what else could he want? 

Now, although Jimin didn’t date or had the time to, honestly. He got laid pretty often, if he so desired. He’d had his share of flings, some lasting longer than others, but they all took off when he wouldn’t commit. He had no desire to, not when he had first taken over the company and not in the present either.

Jimin liked his life easy. Liked to spend time with his friends, do his hobbies (tennis, skydiving, swimming, and fucking) whenever he damned well pleased. 

Loneliness did creep in. Lonely nights of tossing and turning in an empty penthouse with nobody to share it with. Those dark thoughts consuming him, calling him back to bed when there was work to be done.

He was tired of it. Tired of feeling lost and alone, carving a hole in him that his friends just couldn’t fill, despite their best efforts.

Easily, Jimin agreed to your terms. He’d spoil you rotten, absolutely rotten in exchange for your companionship and sex. He didn’t need a girlfriend, just someone who could act the part without the commitment; the jealousy. Someone to fill the hole in his chest.

Your affection and friendship came with a price tag and some other suitors, suitors Jimin paid you to disperse off. You had put a fight to keep them, but money talked and those other daddies walked.

Jimin had smirked, sitting beside you as you cut off all your other sugar daddies. Some confused, some enraged, and some asking if you were okay. 

When he was your only daddy left, you’d smiled smugly. You’d crossed one leg over the other, ignoring the way your dress rode up your thighs, a peek of your panties drawing Jimin’s eyes as you said, “I expect the same from you. No other babies, no other women, just me.”

“You can’t be serious?” Jimin had gasped, his pouty lips in a frown.

“How bad do you want me?” You’d asked, crossing your arms under your chest to draw his attention to your breasts. Jimin had gulped, eyes wide as he licked his lips. You were a temptress, a seductress who knew how to play the game, and Jimin was at your mercy. He was your pawn and with your hand reaching for his belt, he knew he was doomed.

And doomed he was from the very start. He fell into the role very easily, thrived in it and still did. You were wonderful. A ray of sunshine in his otherwise gloomy days. He wasn’t sure how he lived before you; he was sure he didn’t. You were everything he could have ever wanted in a person and so much more, and when his friends loved you as well, he was set.

His baby. 

You were his baby and he would take care of you in any way possible, not just financially. He had bought you cars, diamonds, vacations, clothes, iPads, cell phones. You named it; he bought it. All you had to do was send a link, a screenshot, or simply point to it before it was in your hands. The more he got to know you, the more he found caring about you, wanting nothing but your happiness. He didn’t understand what he was feeling, and he didn’t think he was ready to understand it, if he was honest. So, he suppressed his feelings and did what he did best; spoil you with materialistic items. If only he knew you wanted him, and not his gifts.

Jimin looked down at his shoes, concealing the smile that tugged on his lips at the thought of you. He carded a hand through his hair, forcing himself to pay attention as the dull voices wore on and on. Time couldn’t go fast enough as he daydreamed about you waiting in his bed when he eventually got home tonight. 

It was the weekend. Maybe he could have you stay the night without you rushing out the door tomorrow morning. He liked when you stayed over, liked having you in his arms all night and being buried between your thighs in the morning.

Why were you consuming his thoughts like this? What kind of spell did you have him under? Recently he’d begun feeling… different around you. 

Jimin hadn’t been jealous since you cut off your other sugar daddies. He wanted you for himself and only himself. Mostly because it would be safer (no condoms and you were on the pill), but also, he didn’t want to share you with anyone else. You felt the same way, although you’d never admit it to his face. You’d rather choke.

Lately, these feelings—whatever they were—had made his head spin. He didn’t want to feel more. The thought alone sent him into a panic. But… he also didn’t want to end things. Could he be lying to himself? Sure. Most definitely, as his friends constantly reminded him. 

Feelings were dangerous. Feelings—especially one-sided—could cause the beautiful relationship you both had to crumble into smithereens. And then what would he have? Nothing. Not a damn thing if you weren’t in his life. He’d be lonely again. Miserable. A shell of a man like he was before he met you. 

Jimin would not go back to that. Not ever. He refused! And so with that, he buried his feelings deep in his chest, under lock and key. And nobody, not even you, was going to let them out.

“Mr. Park? Are there any issues you’d like to address or perhaps some questions?” One of the board members asked. Jimin looked at his assistant, “did you get all that?”

At the nod of her head, Jimin responded, “No, we’re all done here. I’ll see you next week. Dismissed.”

Jimin rose from his seat at the head of the table, passing by everyone to go out the door before they even had a chance to blink. His assistant was hot on his heels, with barely an inch of distance between them.

“Marissa?” Jimin stopped, his assistant halting in her tracks just before an impact could occur.

“Yes, Mr. Park?”

“Is anything on my agenda time sensitive? I’m suddenly feeling ill and would like to go home.”

Marissa looks at her tablet, scrolling through the rest of the afternoon. The sun would set within the hour, and Jimin’s most pressing meetings and appointments had been conducted earlier in the day.

“You have a call scheduled with your father. He says it concerns your brother.” Marissa informs him. Jimin rolls his eyes.  He knew that phone call could drag on, and frankly, he didn’t care to know what his younger brother was up to.

“Reschedule for next week. I’m sure he can wait,” Jimin waves his hand, popping into his office to grab his belongings before announcing his departure. Marissa calls the driver, alerting him of Mr. Park’s departure, and Jimin smirks as the doors of his private elevator shut.

It felt good to be the boss.

Jimin sat back in his limo, growing more inpatient as the minutes ticked by. You’d already sent him some racy photos, each growing more and more risqué until you were down to just your panties, back arched and fingers dangerously close to slipping into your panties.

‘I’m waiting, daddy.’

Jimin cursed, biting his lip as his building finally came into view. He wanted to devour you in kisses, consume every bit of you until you were writhing beneath him, hands pinned above your head as your pretty eyes locked with his.

“We’ve arrived, sir.” The driver stares down at his boss, who is just staring down at his phone, finally noticing his door has been opened and his driver is waiting for him to get out. Jimin immediately locks his phone, stuffing it into the pocket of his jacket before getting out.

“Thank you,” he says as he walks past him and into his building, greeting the doorman as he gets into the elevator. He swears it’s dragging today, but it could be his eagerness to get to you, knowing you’re waiting for him in his bed in nothing but a pair of flimsy panties is torturous.

Jimin rushes inside his penthouse, “Baby, I’m home.”

“I’m in here,” you call back as Jimin heads down the hallway, a smirk on his lips as he opens his bedroom door.  

He bites his lip. You’re a vision. A true vision as you lie on his bed, a teasing smile on your lips.

“I missed you,” you say softly as Jimin walks further into his bedroom. His hand begins to loosen his tie as he kicks his shoes off, ignoring how they clatter on his bedroom floor.

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting, princess,” he apologizes as he climbs onto the bed and you get on your knees, crawling over to him.

“Really? Are you going to show me how sorry you are? I’ve been waiting such a long time, daddy. I almost had to take care of myself,” you pout, your hand tightening his tie, eyes hard. Jimin licks his lips, his hand wrapping around yours before he’s caressing your face.

“Is that so?” he asks, moving his hand to undo his tie. He holds the black silk in his hands, twining it as he looks at you, his eyes drawn to your bare breasts.

“Very. It’s not nice to keep me waiting,” you whisper as you inch closer, lips pressing a featherlight kiss to his neck. Jimin swallows thickly. You quickly work your way through the buttons of his shirt, untucking it from his black slacks. You push his jacket off his shoulders, letting it crumple on the floor.

Jimin raises a brow. You ignore it. Your lips are planting kisses on every inch of his neck, pushing his shirt down his arms. You feel his bicep, looking up at him with a grin before he’s pulling you to him. You gasp, your chest pressed against his as he threads his fingers in your hair to pull you into a deep passionate kiss that has you moaning into his lips.

“Jimin,” a sigh of his name has him grunting, eyes wild as he kisses you once again, pushing you onto your back. You giggle, loving how he sloppily kisses your face and neck.

“Jimin! Jimin!” you exclaim, giggles filling his bedroom as you look up at him. Jimin feels his heart skip a beat, cheeks tinted pink as he grins widely at you, “am I forgiven, princess?”

“If I say yes, will you stop slobbering on my face?” Jimin smirks, his hand wrapping around your throat, squeezing the sides. You gasp, moaning and melting under him. 

“Open,” you do as instructed, sticking your tongue out for him. So obedient. Such a good girl for him.

Jimin releases your throat, a mischievous gleam in his dark eyes as he squeezes your cheeks. He spits on your tongue, releasing you, “swallow.”

You do.

“Fuck,” Jimin curses, carding a hand through his hair. You stick your tongue out again for him, watching as he undoes his belt, tossing it to the floor carelessly. He straddles your hips, leaning in to kiss you, his tongue twining with yours. He grinds down on you, swallowing the dulcet moans that escape you as your hands weave in his hair, tugging at the locks. Your hips meet his, feeling his erection with every roll of your hips. Your panties are soaked, utterly ruined as you beg him to touch you… to fuck you.

Jimin smirks, pressing a kiss to your kiss-swollen lips to silence you. His lips trail downward to your jaw, down to your neck where he nips and suckles at the sensitive skin as his hands cup your breast, thumbs circling your pert nipples before it’s his tongue swirling around them. Teeth gently nipping your nipple, your back arched into him as he palms himself over his slacks.

“Tell me,” Jimin starts as he rises, one hand palming his dick, the other kneading your breast. “What did you do while I was gone, doll?”

“N-nothing,” you answer honestly. Your body is heated, sweat beading at your hairline, thighs pressed together as your panties stick to you obscenely.

Jimin looks into your eyes, his hand moving over your chest. He can tell when you’re lying, having figured it out right from the start. Simple little tells: lack of eye contact, biting your lip and a racing heart.

Grinning, Jimin brushes his lips against yours, “good baby.” You preen at the praise, smiling bashfully before his hand is unbuttoning his pants, tugging the zipper down as he climbs off of you to pull his pants down the rest of the way. He takes a second to remove his socks, knowing you don’t like them on during sex.

Jimin shoots you a knowing smile as you sit up on your elbow, hungrily admiring his body. He was sin incarnate. Perfectly sculpted from his strong shoulders and neck down to his thighs that you just loved to ride until you were nothing but a creamy mess. The thought makes you clench, licking your lips as you crawl toward him, getting off the bed. Jimin eyes you curiously, slightly amused when you drop to your knees in front of him.

You look up at him, resting your weight on your heels as you lean back. Jimin can’t resist you, running his thumb over your lips.

“So pretty,” he whispers, hand cupping your cheek. You lean into his touch, feeling soft and secure. Warmth overwhelms you as you maintain eye contact, swallowing thickly. “So, so pretty.”

“Jimin,” you whine, your hand resting on his. You look at his cock, licking your lips. It’s straining against his boxers, pre-cum staining the material; it makes your mouth water. “Please?”

Jimin knows he’s putty in your hands, that look alone is enough for him to buy you the world, hell maybe the universe. How can he ever say no to you, his princess?

“Sure, baby.” That’s all you need to hear as your tongue laps at his boxers. Jimin is surprised but his fingers thread in your hair regardless, tugging gently as a warning not to tease. He’s been hard since this afternoon and the last thing he wants to be is teased. He aches to feel the warmth of your mouth wrapped around him, your nose pressed to his pelvis. 

You tease the head of his cock through his boxers, earning a tug of your hair before you’re pulled back. Jimin’s heated gaze sends a tingle down your spine, “baby.”

A simple warning, one that has you pulsating as you lick your lips, hand reaching for the waistband of his boxers, tugging them down his muscular thighs before they pool at his feet and he kicks them away. 

A curse escapes him when your lips wrap around him, your tongue swirling around the head as your hand strokes him. Jimin groans at the feeling. He could never grow tired of you. 

Jimin caresses your face when you pause to look up at him, “so pretty.” You grow flustered, ignoring the way your cheek heat as you begin bobbing up and down instead, making him moan and groan instead of complimenting you. Your plan works, Jimin overcome by the pleasure your sweet lips provide as you suck harder, sloppier, gagging on his big thick cock, hoping your throat won’t get bruised once again. You didn’t want to go through that embarrassment at the dentist again.

“That’s it, baby. Fuck,” Jimin grunts, your name spilling from his lips as he tugs on your hair, guiding you and setting the pace. “You’re so pretty when you’re choking on my dick. So good for me.”

You deep throat him, loving the sinful sounds that tumble from his pretty lips. His head lolls back, eyes fluttering shut as utter bliss crosses his ethereal features. Moans of your name, curses, grunts, and praises escape his lips as he praises you to the high heavens as his cock sits heavy on your cock, lips sucking the soul out of him.

A whine falls from your lips when you’re tugged off his cock by your hair, your adorable confused gaze meeting his cocky one. 

“Up,” he commands as you rise to your feet. He kisses you, his tongue meeting yours as you grip his biceps to hold your balance as he kisses you passionately. Arousal pools deep in your abdomen, body fueled with lust.

“Daddy, please.” Jimin chuckles, kissing his way to the column of your throat, nipping at the skin. A moan of his name rolls off your tongue as he wraps your legs around his waist to take you to his bed. 

Jimin sets you down with care, having you lie back as he climbs over you. His lips brush against yours, a featherlight kiss that has butterflies fluttering in your tummy. His hand cups your face, saying nothing as he admires your body. You were aroused, panting and aching for him. Nobody else. Just Jimin. 

The soft look you give him is what sends him over the edge, kissing you roughly as he holds you tight. Maybe… just maybe, you could love him. Love him the way he’d deny loving you. You were everything for him, but was he to you? He didn’t want to think about it right now, not when you were wet, ready, and his cock was throbbing, leaking pre-cum.

“Jimin…” your hand cups his cheek, his dark eyes flitting to yours. 

God, he loved you.

“Please,” you whisper as your hand moves down to his neck and then his chest. Jimin swallows thickly, nodding as he takes your hand in his, fingers laced together as he pins it by your head, earning a gasp from your pretty lips.

With one last squeeze of your hand and fleeting kiss to your lips, he moves down your body. He wants to mark you as his, leave love-bites on your skin for the world to see but he resists if he wants to keep his plans for tomorrow.

Jimin’s fingers toy with the waistband of your panties, tugging them down to suck a tiny mark on your hip. You roll your eyes, but you love the slight possessiveness.

“I’m yours,” you assure him regardless. It works. Jimin presses a kiss on the mark, gently tugging your panties down your thighs, you lift your hips to aid him. He tosses them over his shoulder to be forgotten.

His hands immediately grab your thighs, spreading them.

“Fuck, so wet for me. All for me,” Jimin licks his lips, looking up at you. You resist the urge to cover your face as he kisses his way up your thigh until he’s pressing a gentle kiss to your clit. A sigh escapes you, making him smirk before he’s diving right in. Your hands seek purchase in his sheets, fisting them as he works wonders on your cunt.

“J-Jimin,” you stutter, hand embedded in his thick locks, hips rising from the bed to chase after his tongue. His hand pushes you back onto the mattress while he continues to feast on you, one leg thrown over his shoulder as his fingers slip right in, curling and scissoring inside you. His tongue flicks your clit, swirling in circles before his lips are suckling it. 

You arch, crying out for him over and over again. Sweat beads between your brows, a sheen of sweat appearing on your body as you writhe beneath Jimin, wanting to crush his head between your thighs. 

Jimin looks up at you, watching as pleasure overwhelms you, his fiery tongue the source of all your curses and pleas. Your hands cup your breasts, rolling your hard nipples between your fingertips as you cry out, “Jimin… Daddy… I can’t!”

Your body is overwhelmed with pleasure. Your skin is hot, flushed as you feel the knot in your stomach tighten before you cry out, “I’m coming! Fuck!”

Jimin doesn’t stop his ministrations, continuing as you fall over the edge. His name rolls off your tongue in a mantra, eyes squeezed shut and the sheets fisted in your hand once again as you arch your back. Jimin waits until you’ve fallen slack before he slips his fingers out of you, placing them in his mouth, tongue swirling around them as he sucks them clean.

“Feel good, princess?” Jimin asks, a smirk on his lips.

“Mmm,” you murmur, your eyes still closed as you try to regulate your breathing.

Jimin chuckles, “you good, love?”

“More than okay,” you answer, sitting up to crawl over to him until you’re straddling his lap. Jimin’s hands immediately grip your hips, your lips pressing against his. Your arms wrap around his neck, keeping him from going anywhere. 

Jimin buries his face into your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin as you line him up at your entrance, sinking on to him when he least expects it.

“Baby, fuck,” he grunts, his forehead falling onto your shoulder as you hold him close while he finally bottoms out. You bite your lip, groaning at the stretch that has your eyes fluttering shut, nails digging into his perfect muscular back.

Hesitantly, Jimin looks at you. Three words sit heavy on his tongue as you stroke his face, biting your lip as you roll your hips. Your eyes flutter shut, your hand falling to his shoulder, moans of his name filling the space between your bodies. 

“Y/n,” your name is a delicate whisper, his hold on you tightening, swallowing the heavy words instead. He kisses you, losing himself in you instead. Lust is easy, lust he can deal with. That’s all this is, he lies to himself once again as you ride him. 

You hold Jimin close, fingers threaded in his hair, tugging it to make him meet your gaze, “you always fuck me so good, baby. So, so good.”

“This tight cunt is all I can think about at work. You’re such a fucking distraction but coming home to you waiting on my bed wet and horny is so worth it,” Jimin kisses you, tongue pushing past your lips before he’s rolling you over so he’s on top.

“Jimin,” you moan, his thrusts hitting all the right spots. 

“On your knees, baby.” You do as you’re told, getting on your knees and arching perfectly for him. Jimin smacks your ass, mesmerized by the way it jiggles. He smacks it harder, your cry of his name making his cock throb in his hand as he strokes it before lining himself up at your entrance, grunting when the thick head of his cock is welcomed into your cunt.

“Fuck,” you curse, face in the pillow, turning your head to the side. Jimin grabs your arms, putting them behind your back, wrists crossed together as he holds them with one hand while he fucks into you. His head is thrown back, saccharine moans escaping him as you fuck back into him, moaning when his fingers rub at your clit.

“That’s it, baby girl. Fuck, you feel so good..” Jimin bites his bottom lip, a poor effort to try to muffle the moan that threatens to escape his pretty lips. His eyes roll back, overwhelmed by the warmth and wetness of your cunt. Your sweet moans fuel him, consume him as he pistons in and out of you to coax more of those dulcet moans from your lips. His hand moves to raise you, wrapping around your throat. Your eyes flutter shut, melting into his touch as he squeezes. 

“Jimin,” you rasp, overcome with pleasure as he continues to rub at your clit. You shutter, your hand wrapping around his wrist, nails digging into his skin. Jimin grunts, kissing your cheek as he grinds his hips into you, slamming them when you cry out that you’re close.

“Come for me, princess. Please,” his angelic voice has you pulsating, doing as he’s asked as you grip his wrist and come. Jimin moans, lips planting kisses on your shoulder before he’s biting down and coming with you.

“Jimin… Jimin!”

“Oh, fuck. That’s it, love. Come for daddy,” Jimin moans, eyes shut and lips parted as he moans your name repeatedly, filling you with cum until you’re unable to hold yourself up. Jimin chuckles, lying you on your back on his bed before he lies beside you.

“Fuck,” you giggle, pushing your hair out of your eyes as Jimin takes the chance to kiss your sweat beaded forehead. You grimace, “gross, I’m sweaty.”

“I don’t care, princess.” Jimin covers your face in kisses, making you laugh until you’re pressing your palms on his chest to push him away. 

“Jimin!” You squeal, kissing his cheek before cuddling up to his side. He kisses your temple, holding you for a few minutes before he’s pulling away from you to get you some water and lead you to the bathroom to help you get cleaned up.

You end up taking a quick shower, exchanging kisses and lingering touches before you’re wrapped up in a towel in his bedroom. You’ve brought your own clothes to sleep in, but you take one of Jimin’s baggy shirts instead, climbing into his bed while he puts on a pair of boxers.

“Go to sleep, baby. We’ve got plans tomorrow,” he tells you as you snuggle into your side of the bed, pulling the comforter up to your chest.

“Goodnight, Jimin.”

“Goodnight, princess.” Jimin whispers, caressing your cheek before you close your eyes. He watches you until he’s sure you’re asleep, hoping you can’t hear how loud his heart beats.

The morning sunlight streams in through the cracks between the curtains, the light stirring Jimin awake. He sits up, rubbing at his eyes with his hands until all he can see is black dots before his eyesight settles once again. 

Beside him, you’re still sleeping, clutching the pillow to your chest. He sits up, admiring the serene look on your face as you snooze away beside him, so comfortable, stress free. 

Jimin’s heart thunders in his chest when you stir, rolling over and seeking out his hand with yours. He easily gives it to you, squeezing softly when you settle soundly. 

As the world outside begins to wake, he can’t help but want to stay in this bubble the two of you have created in his home. Nobody to bother you, nobody hounding you to do this or that. Nobody to disturb your utopia. 

Jimin caresses your face, his delicate touch makes you moan softly as his fingers push your hair out of your eyes. He stares at you freely, admiring your features. You were beautiful. The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and it still baffled him how you’d agreed to this arrangement. He knew he couldn’t give you more, and on days like today, he desperately wished he could. But what would that get him? Get you? A broken heart and the loss of his best friend? He couldn’t risk it. Wouldn’t risk it. Money was easy. Money came and went, but you stayed regardless if money appeared in your account at the end of the day. That scared him.  Why would you stay?

“If we’re having a staring contest, you gotta wake me up first, Minie.” Your voice startles him, his hand hastily pulling away from your face as you sit up. He hopes you can’t see the pinkness in his cheeks or the embarrassed smile on his lips. 

“Way to ruin the moment,” he laughs, shaking his head, and your heart skips a beat when he gives you his radiant smile. 

“I didn’t know there was a moment to ruin, baby. I’ll close my eyes and you can keep staring at me,” you giggle, rolling over and shutting your eyes. Jimin settles behind you, draping his arm over your waist before you wiggle into him. 

“I hate you,” he jokes, kissing your temple. 

“Mhm, your cock is way too hard for you to lie about that,” you smirk, wiggling further into him. 

“Shh,” he chuckles deeply, kissing your cheek, moving your hair out of the way to kiss your neck. 

“Show me how much you hate me, Min,” you goad him, turning to face him. Your eyes lock on his and Jimin can’t help but fall for you even more. He wonders if it’s obvious to you like everyone else? He wouldn’t dare admit it out loud, not to himself and certainly not to you. You were destined to fail, and who was he to stand in the way of destiny?

“Lie back, princess. Let me get a taste of you.”

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[dimigexwrites]

Second Chances, The Next Morning (KakaSaku Valentines Day)

Part One - The Setup, Part Two - The Date, A03, Fanfiction

@bouncyirwin Here is part three of my oops I wrote a long story instead of a drabble for KakaSaku Valentines Day!

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Breathing hard, Kakashi shoved the door to the gymnasium open and glanced at the time on his phone before shoving it into a pocket. He'd woken up late, so his usual, leisurely jog had turned into a flat out run that left him breathless and red faced. Adjusting the bag on his shoulder, Kakashi gathered his composure before hurrying through the second door. He hoped against hope that he might have beaten—

"You're late," Tenzo observed from the shadows of an area that was hidden from Kakashi's field of vision. He didn't give his friend the satisfaction of startling as he dropped his gym bag on one of the benches that dotted the edges.

Kakashi glanced at the clock on the wall, its bright red letters shocking in the gloom of the room, and shrugged. "I'm only a little late," he observed, unzipping his gym bag so he could dig through the contents. Without turning, he continued. "And you wouldn't believe it, there was this wreck on—"

Tenzo's disbelieving snort interrupted the next words. "Or, you stayed out far too late on your date last night."

Rolling his eyes at the insinuation in Tenzo's tone, Kakashi shed his jacket and hung it on one of the hooks on the wall. "I was home and in bed well before midnight."

Laughing, Tenzo clapped Kakashi on the back. "Yeah, but were you sleeping, or were you enjoying some company for the rest of the night?"

"Sleeping," Kakashi answered. He checked his cellphone once before tucking it into the pocket of his sweatpants. "So, what's on our agenda for the day?

"I'm going to need more information than that." Tenzo nodded when Kakashi reached for a jump rope in the jumbled exercise equipment, indicating that he was on the right track for warming up. But, the man didn't let the line of questions stop. "How did last night go?"

Kakashi rolled his wrists to loosen up before starting a series of quick single and double jumps. It didn't take long for his heart rate to rise in response to the movement. While Kakashi didn't particularly enjoy winter training, it kept his body functional for the more enjoyable activities that came when the weather warmed up. Tenzo had harassed Kakashi until he agreed to meet up at least three to five times during the week for exercise. The days varied, but Saturday was a staple because both of the men were typically free.

Once the sweat stood out on Kakashi's forehead and his body felt warm, he let the jump rope slap against the mats on the floor. He reached for his water bottle and took a long drink of the cool liquid. Tenzo watched him with a knowing look of amusement that made Kakashi uncomfortable. Deciding to draw out the other man's suspense, he grinned. "You know I don't kiss and tell."

Tenzo chuckled and shook his head. "Unless something drastic has changed, you don't kiss at all."

"Ha ha, laugh it up," Kakashi answered, aiming a quick jab at his friend's side.

Tenzo danced backward on the balls of his feet, light and elusive as ever. His movements were smooth and efficient; he'd clearly warmed up while waiting for Kakashi. Tenzo's lips pulled into a frown. "Seriously, how was it?"

Dipping his head to hide the stupid smile that tried to work its way onto his face, Kakashi shrugged. "It was fine." He lifted the carefully wound boxing wraps from his bag and started to work on his left hand without meeting Tenzo's gaze. "The dinner was nice, and the event was surprisingly well planned out."

Tenzo hummed in agreement, bouncing lightly on his toes to keep warm. "You're avoiding my question, which only makes me more curious."

"You know what they say about curiosity," Kakashi quipped, completing the second wrap on his right hand with only a little more difficulty than the left. He flexed his fingers, testing the stretch of the material before nodding.

Tenzo rolled his eyes as Kakashi put on the first of his boxing gloves. "Good thing I'm not a cat, then."

The man held up the second glove and helped Kakashi secure it around his wrist once it was in place. Kakashi sighed. "You aren't going to let it go, are you?"

Kakashi walked toward the bags hanging from the ceiling in one corner of the gym. He flexed his hands inside the glove, trying to to think of a way to answer his friend's question without giving anything away. "Sakura was lovely, attentive, and not what I expected. She's matured a lot over the past few years."

Humming with agreement presumably meant to encourage Kakashi to continue, Tenzo moved to the side to watch him work at the speed bag. A few punches in, the man smiled. "So, when will you see her again?"

Kakashi did his best to keep his tempo steady and smooth lest Tenzo read something in the movement that he didn't intend. Warmth spread through Kakashi's muscles as he continued the steady strikes until his body felt loose and light. He slowed, huffing out a breath. "We didn't talk about it."

Moving away a couple of feet, Kakashi made room for Tenzo in front of the bag. The younger man moved through the same punches that he had to warm up. Tenzo was the one of them who actually enjoyed boxing, and he made it look natural. Kakashi couldn't deny that it took the edge off frustration and anger, but he'd much rather be outside rock climbing, hiking, or going for a run. The gym was necessary evil during the colder months, though.

As Tenzo continued working with the bag, Kakashi stretched in preparation for the inevitable spar that would come next. He didn't dread it as much as he thought he would. A light vibration from his pocket made his face scrunch in confusion. He reached for the feeling, then rolled his eyes at the gloves he'd just put on. Catching the velcro closure in his teeth, Kakashi pulled it loose then clamped his upper arm around the glove to pull his hand free.

Kakashi fished his phone from his pocket with some difficulty because of the wraps. He pressed his thumb against the sensor to unlock it and swiped the screen open. A single message notification waited at the top. Frowning, Kakashi opened it. It worked. I thought about you last night. A second text came through almost immediately. Multiple times.

"Are you smiling at your phone?" Tenzo's voice broke through the momentary elation that flooded Kakashi's system. "Oh my god, are you blushing?"

"No," Kakashi forced his face to wipe the emotion away. He wasn't sure how to respond to Sakura's text, so he left it for a time when Tenzo wasn't watching his every move. "It's just hot in here, and I'm ready to get this spar underway."

Chuckling, Tenzo pulled away from the speed bag. "You're a terrible liar. It's fine to say that you had a good time. Hell, it's even okay to say that you slept with her. I'm not judging."

Kakashi shook his head, sobering at the implication. "We didn't have sex. It isn't like that."

"So, it's not physical," Tenzo repeated, nodding toward the boxing ring that predominated the middle of the gym. The pair had the place to themselves today for a change which allowed them to talk freely. As Kakashi followed him through the ropes, Tenzo's grin deepened. "Damn, are you saying she's in love with you already?"

"She doesn't love me," Kakashi laughed, ignoring the flutter of his heart at the impossible thought. Rin's memory soured the fleeting desire almost as soon as it rose. "She's not that stupid."

Tenzo laughed and dipped his head before reaching out to help Kakashi get his glove back on. "You're probably right. She seemed smarter than average."

"Definitely," Kakashi agreed, squaring up against Tenzo with his body turned to the side to present a smaller target. He weighed his opponent with his gaze, wondering why Tenzo wouldn't let the thing with Sakura go. It wasn't like it mattered; they hadn't talked about dating or going out. The night had been fun, sure, but that didn't mean it was going to be anything more. They'd probably never see each other again.

Kakashi brought his hands up in front of his face and shifted his weight over the balls of his feet to make his movement more fluid. He and Tenzo had trained together for years, so he could practically read the moves before they happened. Jab, cross, jab, jab, hook. Kakashi flowed with the strikes, allowing his mind to wander. The implications behind Sakura's text were impossible to ignore, and the thought brought more heat to Kakashi's cheeks. He'd teased her about wanting her to think about him, but he hadn't meant that way. At least, not seriously.

Trying to come up with a reply was difficult. Did Kakashi respond in kind by admitting that he'd thought of Sakura as well? Did that cross a line that he wanted to keep between them? Did he pretend not to understand the subtext of the comment and ask what Sakura meant? Did he write the whole thing off and continue on the same way that he would have done weeks ago? Did he just ignore it to see if she reached out a second time?

Slipping beneath a quick right hook, Kakashi wondered which response Sakura wanted from him. Almost anything he said would make her more curious about him. Kakashi knew that he could have followed Sakura up to her apartment the previous night, and they would have crossed every line that he cared to draw between them. But, she had respected his decision to stop where they were. Did Kakashi continue holding himself away and playing the logical person, or did he give in to the pressure? Did any of it matter? Sakura's text was clearly meant to evoke a response. Multiple times, it taunted, begging him to acknowledge the unresolved sexual tension between them.

Tenzo slipped to the right and Kakashi circled with him, adrenaline burning through his veins. Boxing helped release some of the tension that wound Kakashi's body tight. He could focus on the natural rhythm of the movements without concentrating too hard on the problem with—another soft buzz ripped Kakashi's attention away from everything except wondering what Sakura said next.

Pain snapped through Kakashi's face, sharp and brilliant as a sunburst. He crashed onto the mat below him, head rebounding against the surface. Darkness swallowed the world. Then, Kakashi blinked at the ceiling in confusion with no idea why he was staring up at it.

"Shit, I'm sorry," Tenzo cursed, crouching beside Kakashi's head. "Are you okay?"

Kakashi's ears rang as he looked around the gym, trying to make logical sense of what happened. Tenzo knelt next to him, pulling his gloves off with an urgency that seemed almost comical. Fingers snapped in front of Kakashi's face, fighting to drag him back to semi-coherence but he had a hard time focusing on the noise. "Come on, I didn't hit you that hard."

"You hit me," Kakashi repeated, still in a half daze from the contact. It was so funny that he almost laughed. The sound burbled in his throat as Tenzo pulled him upright, then the room tipped and spun like a top. Nausea bubbled in Kakashi's stomach, hot and dizzying. He fought it down with a grunt that sobered him somewhat. "You hit me."

"Yes, we've covered that." Tenzo snapped his fingers again, drawing Kakashi's attention to them. "How many fingers do you see?"

Kakashi stared at the wavering image for a second, blinking to clear the immediate blurriness in his vision. "Two."

The hand changed shape. "Now, how many?"

"Three," Kakashi answered, continuing to suppress the nausea that flooded his stomach and throat. He squeezed his eyes shut to push the thought away from him. If he didn't think about it, it wouldn't happen.

When Kakashi opened his eyes again, Tenzo had moved back to give him some space. "Do you think you can get up?"

"You're not a prize fighter or anything. I'm fine," Kakashi grumbled, pushing his hands against the mat to try and stand. Even so, he knew that Tenzo's punches were powerful. The man could have gone on to make a career out of it if he'd wanted to. He usually pulled his punches in spars, though.

Kakashi pushed into a standing position, and the room wobbled with him. The ground pitched under his feet when he tried to move. Tenzo bumped against Kakashi's shoulder, supporting him until they reached a corner of the ring where he could cling to the rope for balance. Kakashi closed his eyes against the dizzy sickness in his stomach. "Mostly fine," he amended, sinking onto the stool that Tenzo produced from somewhere.

It took Kakashi a couple of startled seconds to realize that Tenzo had knelt in front of him and started to remove his gloves with familiar ease. "What are you doing," Kakashi asked in confusion.

"You're done for the day" Tenzo pulled the gloves off and laid them aside, starting to work on the hand wraps. The task was made difficult by the similar wraps on the man's hands.

Kakashi pulled away and started unwinding the fabric on his own. "I just need a minute, then we can get back to—"

"I'm ninety-five percent sure you have a concussion." Tenzo finished pulling off his second wrap without bothering to wind them the way that he normally did. Kakashi wondered if it was frustration or worry that sped his friend's fingers through the movement. "I think you should go get checked out."

Kakashi laughed and shook his head, immediately regretting it when the nausea returned. "No, I'm fine. I didn't even lose consciousness. It was just a lucky punch."

Tenzo leveled Kakashi with a flat stare, then rolled his eyes. "It was a left hook that I telegraphed, but you never noticed. And, you were out for at least a few seconds after it."

"Look at you, using knockout punches in a friendly spar," Kakashi teased, trying to organize the thoughts that were crowding in the back of his mind. He didn't feel great, but he didn't feel terrible either. Surely he would have felt something more than a vague pain in the back of his head after a concussion. "You're growing up."

"You didn't even try to block it," Tenzo complained, shaking his head in frustration as he gathered his equipment from the mat and slid through the ropes to the floor. "You were distracted. You know better than that."

Distracted? Kakashi tried to dredge up the moments before the punch, but they refused to come. Sighing, he followed Tenzo from the ring, bobbling only a little when the room pitched under his feet. "I'm sorry," Kakashi mumbled, rubbing his sore jaw.

Tenzo sighed, worry creasing his features. "You really should go see a doctor, just to make sure everything is squared away. If you won't go to the hospital, at least let me get Tsunade to have a look at you."

Kakashi tipped his head to the side, considering the words for a long moment. Tsunade-shishou would. The memory came slowly; the pieces fit back together in a picture that left Kakashi feeling oddly off balance, even more than the concussion. He ran his tongue across his lips, surprised to taste the coppery tang of blood. "I'm not going to the hospital. If it's a concussion, they'll tell me to rest."

"Which you'll undoubtedly ignore." Tenzo threw his equipment into his bag with an overly dramatic eye roll. "Do you think you have a concussion? Or, did it just rattle you?"

Raising one shoulder in a shrug, Kakashi packed up his wraps, gloves, and jump rope. "I mean, isn't that pretty much the same thing?"

Tenzo pulled a black hoodie over his head, then slung his bag across one shoulder. "You know that you got the finger count wrong, right?"

Kakashi blinked at the words, and the soft pain in the back of his mind ramped up to a slightly more noticeable stab. He sighed in defeat. "Okay, fine, I might have a concussion, but the point still stands. All the doctor is going to tell me to do is to get some rest."

"You lost consciousness, briefly, but it still happened. You had double vision, your balance is off, and you're in pain, sick to your stomach, or both." Tenzo ticked off the points on his fingers, and Kakashi studied them to make sure the number matched the reasons.

Kakashi frowned. "How do you know I'm—"

"The way you squeeze your eyes and tense your jaw every few seconds," Tenzo interrupted, with a rueful shake of his head. "You've got a pain tell, old man."

"Hey, woah," Kakashi chuckled, holding up his hands as if deflecting another blow. "Isn't it enough that you already knocked me out once today?"

A grin slid onto Tenzo's lips as he shook his head and threw an arm around Kakashi's shoulders. "Come on, let's get you checked out, then I'll leave you alone for the rest of the day, probably."

[lorelylantana]

Savageries of the Heart Chapter 6; Heritage

First -Previous -Next

Chapter rating: T Overall Rating: E

Noodle turned out to be quite the escape artist, if the flickering of a forked tongue against her chin was any indication. Zelda’s giggle swiftly turned into a yawn. Noodle wriggled into her hair until Zelda lifted her head so the serpent could take her usual space coiled around her neck.

“Good morning, Dove,” Link cooed softly, kissing her shoulder as she sat up. 

“Good morning,” she said with a stretch. She leaned on Link’s shoulder to look down at the slate in his hands. “What are you doing?”

“I’m just looking through some of the messages that piled up over our honeymoon,” he said, tapping out a reply to his latest missive. Zelda’s brow wrinkled.

“Don’t you do that in your office?”

“I could do it in our office,” he admitted, and Zelda felt him smile against her cheek, “but that would mean leaving you here to wake up alone, and that wouldn’t be very hospitable, would it?”

She grinned and shook her head.

“What’s on the agenda for today?” she asked, booping Noodle’s nose. Link clicked out of his messages and brought up a schedule. 

“I don’t have many appointments today, so I thought I’d give you a tour.”

Walking through her new home felt like walking through a dream. Her breath steamed in front of her, even though Zelda fel perfectly comfortable, if not warm. Her bare feet walked across frozen stone floors as Link led her through chambers carved into the mountain. It was a surreal feeling, walking next to walls of solid ice, light filtering through in tendrils onto the floor. On her other side was a line of doors. Curious, she opened one, and was surprised to find a bedroom.

“For guests?” she asked, though she couldn’t imagine that many would willingly stay in a frozen abode such as theirs. Link shook his head.

“Children,” he clarified, then caught himself, “Not that we need them! I mean-” he sighed, “I didn’t marry you to pump out heirs. That’s not how we do things.”

“It’s how my family does things,” Zelda said. She wouldn’t say that she was a natural born mother, but there was this vengeful feeling that had grown over the years that was determined to continue her line, even if it was just to prove she could. Zelda ran her eyes down her husband’s figure. At the very least she had a strong set of genes to work with.

“In any case, It’s the one thing I can do to honor my family, making sure the weakest link doesn’t break the chain.”

Link paused then, turning to look her in the eyes. There was a tragic look in his eyes that would make Zelda bristle were it not for the rage burning quietly behind the melancholy.

“Is that how you see yourself?”

Zelda looked down, unable to bear the intensity of his gaze.

“It’s how my people see me.”

“I wouldn’t count on that.”

She looked up at him, a question on her lips, before he cleared his throat. “I think breakfast should be ready by now. Let’s go eat.”

An moment later, Zelda was seated at the table for breakfast, which gave Link an opportunity to help her settle into her new home and give her a brief explanation of what would be expected of her as a Warden’s wife. As a Mother of the Zonai she would be expected to handle domestic affairs. This included holding audiences and coordinating joint efforts between regions among other housekeeping tasks, handling the finances and presiding over festivals and rituals and whatnot. The Dragonlands were the political center of the Zonai, and marrying its Warden meant that she had an additional responsibility of leading an organization based on the Temple Mesa.

“Wait a moment,” Zelda held up a hand, “You mean to tell me the Hands of Hylia is a Zonai organization?”

The Hands of Hylia was a renowned charity that gathered resources from across Hyrule to redistribute them when needed. Their quick response to epidemics, famines, and other such disasters quickly earned them the reputation of the kingdom’s greatest first responders. Her uncle had poured a generous amount of money to the administration, if only to claim a portion of the glory and saving the castle embarrassment for it’s slow response time. 

“I don’t understand. What’s the point in helping a nation that looks down on you so?”

Link leaned back, considering before putting his thoughts to words.

“You know the Sheikah once served the Hyrulean royal family,”

“I did,” Zelda nodded, “Because of Hylia’s blood.”

“Yes, but that’s not all. The Sheikah value knowledge, and so they served Hylia’s daughters, paragons of wisdom before they were usurped by their fathers.”

“What does this have to do with the Zonai?”

“Because the Zonai follow the Hero. At least, we follow his example.”

“I’m sorry, what ‘Hero’?”

Link gave her a quizzical look, “The Hero, the one in all of the stories.”

Zelda shook her head, drawing a blank.

“You really don’t know? No one told you? What about the history books?”

“My uncle had all the history books burned shortly after he took the throne,” Zelda said, in a trance, “Anything that referenced Hyrule’s matrilineal line was disposed of.”

Link cursed before getting up and taking her hand, pulling Zelda as he walked to the same alcove they materialized in the night before. He pressed a button, and they were gone in a flash of light,

Zelda expected her feet to form on top of the sandy beach, not the stone worn smooth by eons pressing against her skin like a well trodden path. Her gasp echoed over towering walls etched with a procession of men and women making their way towards the biggest statue of Hylia she had ever seen.

Zelda felt all at once so small yet nostalgic in a way that drove her forward, paying no thought to her bare feet and the casual slip hanging from her shoulders. 

She had a place here, and she felt secure in this undeniable, instinctive sense of unity that swelled in her chest and seeped into her bones.

“What is this place?” she whispered.

“They call the Temple of Time the birthplace of Hyrule, but this,” Link gestured to the massive statue “Is where your bloodline began, when the Goddess Hylia came down to earth and brought her light to the land.”

Zelda walked with him as he led her over the uneven stone, wrapping her arms around his right. After years of precious little physical touch, going to be with her husband had been the release of a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, and found herself gravitating towards Link, who seemed more than receptive to her advances, holding her hand tightly in his while they walked upon the stone. They walked in revered silence until they finally reached the statue. Link took her hand and pressed it against the smooth folds of the Goddess’ robe. 

A gasp fell from her lips, there was a hum that resonated in her chest, causing her heart to flutter. Link’s skin burned against hers, and she felt this surge of affection for him that felt much older than their marriage. 

“Hylia’s line has survived for thousands, if not millions of years, surviving famine, disease, and several wars. Do you really think it can be extinguished so easily?”

Zelda shook her head.

“No.”

“Then we agreed,” he said, hooking an arm around her and bringing his slate around, “Now let’s go home.

Zelda had been sitting at her new desk when her translator began to chime. She glanced at her slate to see who it was.

Owlan (Resting Father of the Dragonlands)

“Owlan?” she said when the call connected. Was there anyone in Hyrule that wasn’t a Zonai in disguise?

“Hello Mother Zelda. I thought I’d see how you were settling in, and I wanted to say that you can call me anytime if you need some pointers for your new position. I was in your shoes quite some time ago.”

“Thank you, that means a lot,” she said, before clearing her throat, “How are things in the castle?”

“As you likely expected, Prince Nohansen wasted no time in commanding your old room to be refurbished for his occupancy.”

“What was wrong with his old one?” she asked. Owlan chuckled.

“It wasn’t yours, of course,” was his snide reply, “You should know the Commissioner returned from his sabbatical, he kicked up quite a fuss when he heard of your nuptials.”

“Really?” there was no love lost between Zelda and the Commissioner. Her uncle’s right hand man was adamant that she spend her days in the castle’s shadow rather than lend her talents to worthier pursuits. “You’d think he’d be glad to get rid of me.”

Owlan hummed thoughtfully, “I’m concerned he may know more about the Zonai than he’s letting on.”

“I could say the same of you,” Zelda quipped, she got a chuckle for her efforts.

“Fair enough. How are you adjusting to your new position?”

“I’m still a bit overwhelmed, but well enough considering the Zonai’s true nature,” she admitted, dragging her finger over her desk’s surface. A list of ingredients she’d ordered scrolled at her touch. Zelda had made her order hours ago, but still fiddled with the giant screen. The novelty of it all hadn’t quite worn off yet. “I must admit, the bath was divine. I’ve never seen such a lovely room.”

“I wouldn’t know, so I’ll take your word for it.”

That gave Zelda pause.

“But weren’t you Father of the Dragonlands?”

“The requirement for being a Zonai Caretaker is a family tie with the region’s Warden, what kind doesn’t really matter. It could be a parent and child, cousins, even best friends, if they sign an oath to one another. I’ve never had much interest in romantic relationships myself, but I was more than willing to support my sister as she watched over the land. In fact, I think you’re actually the first Mother who married in for quite some time.”

“Is that right?” Zelda asked. It seemed the older her marriage grew, the stranger it became. And then, before her eyes, strings of light condensed in front of her. 

“What is it?” Owlan asked when he heard her gasp. Zelda shook her head.

“Just more Zonai wonders I have to get used to.”

Owlan blew out a laugh, “I can imagine. I’ll let you get back to the intricacies of Zonai culture. Don’t hesitate to call if you need anything. I’m at your service, Mother of the Dragonlands.”

The call disconnected. Zelda shook her head ruefully, looking at the piles of fruit and herbs within her reach. With a swipe of her hand, the recipe for the Zonai body paint was on screen. She reached for the nearest Armoranth. 

It was time she got to work.

[lavenderbexlatte]

office hours

nct 1.8k words gender-neutral reader insert Reader x Qian Kun SUGGESTIVE/NSFW

🖤 warnings: vaguely inappropriate work relationships, kissing n’ touching, a boner 🖤

connect with me! / masterlist

“Any final questions before I let you go?”

You glance out over your small class of undergraduate seniors, anticipating the usual last-minute queries about due dates for next week or term definitions from your lecture today. These students are pretty bright, all things considered, and extremely attentive even though your senior seminar class meets in the morning.

That’s why the question that one of your back-row girls asks bowls you over as much as it does.

“Doc, do you think Professor Qian is cute?”

“Professor Qian? In the music department?” you ask, trying to hide how flustered you are.

“Yeah. D’you think he’s hot?” the girl repeats, grinning as she shoves her notebook into her bag without breaking eye contact with you.

“I guess…I’ve never really thought about it,” you say honestly.

The girl hums. “Well, I think he’s pretty hot.”

You get the feeling that she’s got an agenda, a feeling that’s only solidified when you see a few of your other students struggling to hold back laughter and smiling into their books. This is not gonna fly. They can’t make things weird for you, these little punks.

“Any other final questions?” you ask, “About the material?”

Heads shake around the room.

“Okay. Go home, and you better have your summaries to me by Sunday night!”

The students pick up their bags and their books and their Hydroflasks, and they leave the room in their ones and twos. As the last one bids you goodbye, and you’re left alone with your notes again, you sincerely hope to yourself that this isn’t going to become…a thing. These kids (young adults, actual grown adults, though you always think of them as kids) are far too old to be pulling shit like this on you.

Truly, deeply, sincerely, you hope that your 22-year-old student is not planning on trying to bag the music professor. That would be way too much trouble to have on your radar.

You sling the last of your class materials into your bag, and head for your usual stop after your ten o’clock class: the nearest dining hall. The school gives you free lunches on the days that you teach, so you might as well take advantage.

One trip through the buffet-style lines later, you’re balancing your full plate as you scan the room for an open table. The only one you can spot, however, is right next to a group of students, and holding court is none other than your senior girl with the apparent penchant for older men.

“-like a fucking idiot!” you hear one of the other students laughing, “He’s faculty. He’ll get fired.”

“Only if I snitch,” your student is saying.

“Or if literally anyone finds out,” says another one.

“No one would find out. No one would care,” your student dismisses. “Unless they’re in the music department, no one even knows who Qian is.”

So she’s really trying to fuck Qian Kun, huh?

It’s none of your business, really. But if this actually happens, and it even gets out that you knew and said nothing, it’ll be your ass on the line, too. And you’re really not one to fight important shit like Title IX. But the girls at the next table aren’t letting up, the conversation turning more and more raunchy and giving you a growing desire to plug yours ears with the shitty cafeteria napkins for some sense of deniability.

You stab at your meal, annoyed at the position that you’re in now, the liability you hold. Fuck.

You’re gonna have to go see this other professor, and head off this mess before it begins.

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

It’s rare that you’re on campus in any place but your own department, but you find yourself in the music building later that evening. You’d done a quick snoop on the faculty page and found Professor Qian’s office hours, and decided that sooner is better. If you can get to him before your (admittedly pretty and fit and 22) student does, then maybe you can spare everyone the headache.

His office is tucked at the end of the hall, farthest from the doors into the building. Lucky him, you think. Your own tiny office is smack in the middle, with essentially no privacy as other faculty and students come and go all day long. The door is shut when you reach it, but the light inside is on, so you knock.

“Just a sec!”

You oblige, waiting and praying to anyone who’ll listen that you’re not about to see a very familiar coed behind this door.

But no. When finally, the door opens, all you see is Professor Qian.

He’s not someone you know well, or someone you see often, and maybe that’s why you spend such an awkward amount of time just looking at him. Your first extremely stupid thought is that your student is kind of right: he’s cute. Thick brown hair, neat eyebrows, a jawline that makes him look like a goddamn marble sculpture…

“Can I help you?” he asks.

You nod, mentally kicking yourself for being weird. “Yeah, hi. Can I come in?”

Qian Kun gives you a brilliant gentle smile that reveals deep dimples, and gestures you into his (blessedly empty) office. You introduce yourself, give him your name and your department, and after a cordial handshake and pleasantries, stood in the middle of the tiny space, you decide to just come right out and say it.

“I have a student who I think you know,” you say, “She’s a senior and a double-major.”

He asks for her name, and you give it.

“Yeah, she’s in my senior seminar,” Professor Qian tells you.

“Mine, too,” you say, “And she’s gotten a little…TOO comfortable in class, lately.”

His grin turns lopsided. “Are we talking eating without permission, or something less tasteful?”

“She has made it clear that she’s interested in some things involving you. And her. And sex,” you tell him, fighting to keep your voice level and not actually die of embarrassment.  

Now the grin disappears entirely. “Seriously?”

You nod, “The exact words I heard were ‘he’s super stacked and I want to-‘”

“Whoa, okay!” Professor Qian cuts you off, “Okay, yeah. No.”

“Professor, I’m sure you know this, but I can’t let anything like that happen. We’ll both get canned,” you say.

“Kun.”

“Pardon me?”

“Call me Kun,” he says, “We’re colleagues, don’t need to dance around titles.”

“Kun,” you repeat, “Alright. But you – you’re not going to-”

“Christ, no,” Kun says emphatically, looking scandalized.

“Good. This has been the most thoroughly uncomfortable conversation of my whole career, but good,” you say.

“I would rather you bring it up to me than let things get worse,” he assures you.

“I’m sure it’s flattering to know that students are interested,” you joke. “Sort of wish I was that kind of attractive.”

Kun laughs. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’ve always thought you were attractive.”

Your brain comes screeching to a halt so quickly, you’re sure Kun can hear as it slams on the breaks and leaves you confounded and blinking at him. He has the presence to look a bit sheepish, having just turned this around on you.

“I’m sorry, was that too much?” he says, running a hand through his hair nervously.

“Unexpected but appreciated,” you reply. “And what do you mean, ‘always?’”

Kun shrugs, leaning back against his desk. “We share a lot of students. They talk about you, that makes you stand out, I see you around. Frequency bias.”

You crack a smile. “So, I come here to save you from one of my horny students, only to find you’re my secret admirer, is that it?”

“You could say that.”

He looks amused but not smug, satisfied but not cocky. The way he’s leaning his weight back on the sturdy wooden desk makes it really difficult not to notice his strong thighs in their fitted slacks, or his chest against the thin fabric of his shirt.

Maybe you were a little harsh, before, judging your student’s attraction to him. You can see the appeal. Completely.

You take a step closer to him, which isn’t difficult given the extremely limited space in the office. “You spend a lot of time thinking about me?”

“A completely normal amount of time,” he replies.

“What kinds of things do you think about?”

Kun reaches toward you suddenly, and then hesitates, leaving his hand hovering in the general direction of your hip. Fascinated, you cover his hand with yours and bring it down to meet your side, as he intended.

“How you always look so put-together but act so cavalier,” he says, finally. “How the kids say you curse in lecture and sit cross-legged on your desk and watch TikToks on your phone, but also grade harder than anyone in your department.”

You hadn’t known that anyone noticed those things. Not your students, and least of all some random colleague.

“So what do you wanna do about it?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“Well,” says Kun, taking hold of your hip more firmly, “Since you’re right here, and the door is shut, and you’re not one of my students…”

You laugh, and his smile makes those dimples pop out again.

“Then,” he says, “Then I think I wanna do this.”

You can say with absolute certainty that you didn’t come here to kiss Qian Kun, but that’s exactly what’s happening. He kisses calm and steady, and you’re ready to about melt into his arms. It’s just a few gentle presses of your lips against his, until he suddenly grabs you around the waist and spins the both of you, so that you’re the one up against the desk.

He lifts you the little bit so that you can sit on the cold surface of it. You move your legs to either side of his hips, and he groans a bit as he draws even closer. As he settles his body against yours, you can feel the barest beginning of an erection pressing against your inner thigh.

“Excited already?” you ask, amused, as Kun traces a path of kisses across your jaw.

“Maybe,” he replies, “Are you complaining?”

“Not at all.”

He laughs at that, which makes you laugh, and you hook your arm around his neck to bring his mouth back to yours. You could get used to this, you think, as one of Kun’s hands sneaks down to jerk your button-up out from where it’s tucked into your nice jeans. As soon as he has access, that hand goes right up your shirt to find purchase-

KNOCK KNOCK.

You jump, and Kun glances over his shoulder at the door, panic evident on his face. Before he can call out to tell whomever it is to wait a second, the door swings open.

“Hey, Qian, I had a question about the performance review for-”

Of course, it’s her. Your student, the very same one with the hots for Kun, walking headlong into the office. When she finally looks up and sees you there, on the desk, legs spread and Kun between them, she freezes.

“I…” she sputters, “I – I guess I’ll come back later.”

“Close the door behind you,” Kun agrees.

She nods, looking mortified. “Yeah, yeah, of course. S-see you on Monday, Doc!”

[glenncoco4]

You Can Count On Me

A/N: Chapter 7

••••

As she waits for the car in front of her to pull ahead, Kensi basks in the warmth of the bean juice as it moves its way down her throat. She so focused on her morning joe that she doesn’t notice the lone figure standing on the curb. Her brow furrows in confusion as he steps up to the side of the car. “Oh, my god, babe, what are you doing?”

The dirty shaggy blonde flashes his partner the gross yellow caps that are surrounding his teeth, earning a cringe. “Had a little LAPD undercover field trip early this morning. Can I get a ride?”

She extends her head towards him, sniffing as the unknown smell assaults her nostrils. “Is that you?”

“I like to go method, you know that.”

“That’s really disgusting.”

“I have to be convincing and the smell is a big part of that.” He places his arm against the window sill, sending his girl a wink. “So how bout that ride?”

“I love you but I wouldn’t let you ride in my trunk smelling like that.”

“Are you serious?”

It takes everything in her not to dry heave as a new odor enters her bubble. “Serious as that smell coming from your clothes.” Shaking her head, the brunette smirks, sending him a playful wink before driving off.

“No, no. No, no. Come on, Kens!”

“Bye, cutie.”

Letting out an exasperated sigh, he watches the retreating taillights fill his vision, leaving him stranded on the side of the road. “This is love.”

 ••••

Later that day the junior agent listens to the older man’s theory as to which direction the missing marines may have headed, but her instincts tell her that what he’s saying isn’t necessarily true. “I’m not so sure, Major. I found SUV tracks heading in the other direction.”

The older man rolls his eyes, almost challenging the brunette. “I’m pretty sure they’re heading away from Mexico.” He dismisses the pair, focusing on his own agenda before walking over to the rest of his team. “If you’ll excuse me.”

“Did I just get blown off?” She turns to her boyfriend, honestly wondering why she’s at all surprised by the Major’s reaction. 

“Like Ronald McDonald at a PETA convention.” He shakes his head, knowing if anyone can track, its one Kensi Marie Blye. Without an ounce of doubt in his eyes, Deeks looks to her. “Hey, trust your gut.”

A barely there smile rises to her lips. She sees the absolute faith he has in her shining bright in his cerulean blues. It’s calming and gives her a moment to center herself. “Looks like somebody was being dragged, which seems to fit the scenario.” She follows the trail, but stops when its clear that it goes on for miles. 

Realization hits her and she tries to bite back a smile thinking about how her partner his gonna respond to what they have to do next. “You ready to go for a little ride?”

The words leave her lips and he can’t help the smile that spreads to his face. The image of her in nothing but satin lace saying those exact same words has him in a trance.

She sees his eyes glaze over as he licks his lips. Shaking her head, she can only imagine what’s going on in his head right now. “On the bikes, Marty, on the bikes.”

“So no hot desert sex then?” He playfully pouts. 

She ignores his question, walking off towards the dirt bikes in hopes that he didn’t notice the blush rise to her cheeks.

••••

Two hours later, Kensi suddenly stops, pulling of her helmet as her partner follows. “I’ll never understand why you do this for fun.”

The corner of her mouth curls into a smile when she watches him shake his hair. The dirty clothes mixed with his sun kissed skin does things to her, a lot of things. “You look rugged, babe. Wouldn’t make you for a four-star hotel camper.”

“Kens, the last time we went on vacation you and Kip went on an ATV adventure while me and the cupcake girls stayed at the pool all day and got pedicures.” He suddenly pauses, the first string of words suddenly washing over him. “Wait, you think I look rugged?”

“Yeah, like Malibu Ken, he wasn’t anatomically correct either.”

He eyes his girlfriend, challenging her. The squawk of laughter she lets out makes his heart flutter. He’s been working on her sense of humor for 20 years now, when she thinks she’s being funny somehow it makes the situation all the better. His little weirdo. But that also doesn’t mean he can’t ‘fight’ back. “In that case, I guess I’ll just have to keep what I have to myself.”

“You wouldn’t last 10 minutes.”

“Oh you think so?”

Her eyes follow him up and down as she examines his body, bitting her bottom lip. “I guess only time will tell. Oh, yeah, I forgot to ask, are you good with me walking around the house naked tonight? It’s just these clothes are so constricting today, I need a little bit of air.”

“Uh.” He’s left frozen in the hot desert sun, well all but one part of him. She’s gonna be the death of him, but what a way to go.

••••

Dread fills her being as she watches the guy who was chasing after her partner come back on the ATV. Her heart races, thinking about how his lifeless body could be laid out alone somewhere, but before she can get too deep into her thoughts the perpetrators surround the bulldozer spraying bullets right towards the brunette and marines.

They’re so focused on those they can’t see that they miss the lone assailant approach them on their side. Just has he lifts his gun, a series of bullets hit the man from out of nowhere. 

Kensi’s brow furrows, wondering if their back up has finally arrived when out jumps her rugged looking boyfriend covered in more dirt than she remembers. She’s so angry with him for losing contact that she doesn’t even have time to take a relieving breath that he’s alive.

The detective hops over the scrap of metal, coming up beside his partner. “Did you miss me?”

“Where have you been?”

“They killed my bike.”

They crouch down even further as the bullets continue to fly, their eyes lock, trying to come up with a plan. Any plan that will get them out of this alive. 

With not much time Deeks realizes the action he needs to take to ensure the best possible outcome for their safety. “Alright, you know what? I’ll draw their fire, you make a run for the SUV.”

“Are you sure about this?”

“Not really, no.”

Before she can respond he’s halfway across to the trailer spraying the men with bullets, once he’s found cover behind the old truck, Kensi makes her move as her partner covers her.

She quickly makes it to the SUV just as one of the guys loads the rocket launcher. As she’s messing with the wires, a whirling sound fills the air followed by a loud explosion. Looking up, her heart sinks once again, knowing that’s the exact same spot where her love was. “Marty.”

Giving up. That’s all she’s thinking about now as the perpetrators continue their assault. They’re outnumbered and Marty is more than likely dead. It’s hopeless. 

As she lays there in the seat of the vehicle a sudden twirling noise fills the air, to much of her relief she soon recognizes the sound. Help has arrived.

Staying down until backup has taken care of the men, Kensi takes a calming breath as a lone tear escapes her eye. God how is she going to go on with her life? How will she explain it to his mom? How will she explain it to their friends?

“Look, baby, I know you’re tired, but you can sleep when we get home.”

Her eyes go wide at the sound of the oh so familiar surfer drawl that belongs to her best friend. Before she can even process what’s going on in her head, her body is jumping out of the seat and lunging into his arms. “I thought you were dead.”

“I’m okay.” He places a kiss to the top of her head. To say the explosion knocked him on his ass is a bit of an understatement. He was this close to being engulfed in flames, so close in fact that the back of his jacket is charred. So close to losing all he had with her and leaving her by herself. That thought alone, sends his mind into overdrive. 

Realizing that their coworkers could be walking up at any minute, they quickly pull apart, the aching to be close to one another radiating through their beings. Sharing a look, they center themselves and get back to the art of deception. Rushing over to the marines, the partners help load them into the chopper and take a much deserved sigh of relief. All in a days work.

••••

They finally get back to the mission later that evening to grab their things, gladly leaving their paper work for tomorrow. The pair say their goodbyes to the rest of the team before heading out to their respective vehicles, but the shaggy blonde stops her from getting into her car. “How about I pick you up from your place and we go for a ride?”

“I like the sound of that.”

Observing the area around them, the detective makes sure the coast is clear before taking hold of her hand, his thumb moving back and forth across her soft skin, bringing both of them a sliver of comfort. 

His eyes find hers, there’s so much he needs to say to her, but now is not the time. “I love you.”

She’s caught a bit off guard, not by his words, but the turmoil and sadness written in his eyes. “I love you too, Marty.”

••••

She looks across the vastness that is the ocean. The golden and pink hues that envelope the world around them is one of the most magical things that she’ll never get tired of. But the view is the last thing on her mind because something’s been off with her boyfriend for the better part of the day and then their interaction in the parking garage, has her wondering. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“I-I need you to...”

“Need me to what?”

His chest rises and falls as he takes a calming breath. He’s not really sure of what he’s about to asks her...actually he is. Turning towards her, he’s met with her concerned loving mismatched eyes, and it gives him the courage to continue on. “Marry me.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Great, Marty. That’s just great. You have an entire rolodex of words and those are the ones you choose.”

“Marty. Baby. Stop.”

Taking another deep breath, he tries to gather his thoughts. 

They sit in silence for a few seconds before he finally gains his courage once again to confess what’s been at the forefront of his mind for the past couple of hours. “Kens, I love you. In some way I’ve always known that I was in love with you. You’re my best friend, the person I want to share everything with. I don’t know how you did it but that 8 year old little girl I met 20 years ago made me feel the safest I’ve ever felt in my life and she’s been doing so ever since.” He reaches for her hand, needing contact now more than ever. “I know this is sudden, but when you think about it, its really not. We know everything about each other, we’re a part each other, past, present and future. I want you to know that you can count on me for the rest of our lives. Baby, I’ll always be here loving you and being your biggest supporter. I so very much want you to be the same for me, so...Kensi Marie Blye, will you marry me?”

There are tears in her eyes, this is sudden and happening oh so fast. Her heart is racing and her thoughts are all over the place. Sliding across the old leather seat, she brings her lips to his. “I love you so much, and I want all of those things that you do, but I think I need a little time to process everything. Is that okay?”

He should’ve saw this coming. I mean they’ve only been dating for a week and this topic has never come up. His best friend is one of the most level headed people he’s ever known, so he recognizes that she needs time to process this commitment and all that comes with it. He places a reassuring kiss to her lips, a barely there smile across his face. “Of course it is. I didn’t mean to spring this all on you. It’s just what with today and the explosion, I knew I didn’t want to waste another minute.”

“And we’re not.” She assures him, if there’s one thing she knows its that life is short and there’s no promise of tomorrow, but she still needs to gather herself and her thoughts. If they’re going to do this, she needs to have a level head not be wrapped up in the near death experience of today. “We’re together. I just want you to know that no matter what, I do want everything with you. I just need some time to process everything.”

“I understand.”

She places a kiss to his lips once more before her head finds his shoulder. “I love you.”

His head finds hers as they stare out across the cliff side sunset. The tension in his body slowly releases as her fingers intertwine with his. As long as she’s still here, that’s all that matters. “I love you. I love you so much.” 

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 71 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Fun fact: this rewrite is now the second-longest fic in the Drace Race RPF section of AO3. (Second only to the original story, lol.) So if you’re looking for a lot of content…we’ve got you. ;) Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Previously: Violet revealed her estranged relationship with her family to Sutan, and Courtney struggled to live up to Miss Fame’s demands.

This Chapter: Some uncharacteristic vulnerability from Violet, Met Gala meetings and morning television.

***

“Do you want more marshmallows?”

“I always want more marshmallows.”

Katya grinned as she got up from the kitchen table, grabbing Trixie’s mug to top them both up. They were decorating gingerbread men, Katya pulling them from the oven last night. Trixie was doing clothes, drawing in the lines and putting details on them, one of his favorite jobs.

It was a tradition of theirs, spending the Sunday before Christmas in their pajamas, preparing cookies and watching Home Alone, the leftover icing always ending up in the bedroom for some sticky afternoon fun.

***

“Aaaand release...”

“Oh god,” Sutan groaned, rolling onto his back and spreading out like a starfish. “I’m dead.”

When he had jokingly asked if he could join Violet for her yoga session, he hadn’t figured she’d say yes, and he definitely hadn’t expected that it’d be this hard, those last few breaths of extended child’s pose essentially torture where he could feel his bones bend and creak.

“Stop being so dramatic,” Violet grinned, his girlfriend sitting back on her knee, the leg with her cast spread out to the side. “We only did 40 minutes.”

“You’re not even sweating.” Sutan looked at her, Violet’s hair in a high ponytail, the Sunday look of one of his shirts and a sports bra quickly becoming a fave.

“Some of us remember to do more than weights and cardio, Mr. Amrull.”

“I’m texting my trainer right now,” Sutan reached over his head, grabbing his phone that he had left on the floor next to their mats, Violet giggling as she laid down next to him, putting her head on his shoulder.

“There,” Sutan pressed send, his trainer probably falling off of his chair when he read the message, Sutan always attempting to get away with the bare minimum when it came to exercise, but he refused to be humiliated by being unable to reach his toes.

He was just about to put his phone down, when Violet reached up and tapped the screen, his front camera opening up, both of them in frame as they were lying on the floor.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking a picture?” Violet smiled, her sarcastic tone never wavering. “To document the moment.”

Sutan looked at the screen. It was so incredibly tempting to say yes, to keep this moment in the private password protected collection that had steadily grown since Thanksgiving, Violet really and truly trying to let him take pictures, but he couldn’t say yes, not when he knew why she was so confident.

“And can I post it?”

“Post it?” Violet raised an eyebrow, sitting up on her elbows. “Why? Isn’t your hair...?”

“A mess?” Sutan didn’t want to smile, but it was impossible not to, Violet knowing him way too well if she had already figured out that he was sometimes embarrassingly vain about his hairstyle, the mess on his head looking like he had been fucking for an hour. “Yes, but I still want to post it.”

“I-” Violet had pulled away completely now, not a single trace of the sweetness left. “No.”

“Violet,” Sutan sat up as well, putting his phone down, “I know you hate social media, but you’re my girlfriend, and I don’t think what I ask for is unreasonable-”

“Sutan. Please” Violet grabbed her mat and rolled it together in an attempt to avoid him. “I said no.”

“And I’m pushing because I don’t understand.” Sutan could feel the annoyance build, the hurt and the rejection. It stung every single time Violet denied him, hurt every time she neglected what they had.

“I’m not saying we have to announce it with a workout selfie,” Sutan hated that they were fighting, but he couldn’t help himself, “but I want to tell the world that we’re together.”

“And I don’t-” Violet looked at him, her brown eyes filled with hurt. “If the world knows, they know, and I don’t want them to know where I am or what I’m doing.”

There it was. The they, the them, the family from Atlanta that was haunting his girlfriend's life like a shadow that had slowly started to creep into his too.

“Violet, I hate to be the one to tell you,” Sutan didn’t touch her, simply putting his hand down on the floor next to hers, telling her that he was there. “But the internet exists. If they have your name, they can find you, no matter what you do to hide.”

“Have you taken a moment to consider that they might not have that?”

Sutan paused, Violet’s words like a bomb.

“... What?”

Did her family not have her name? It was true that Violet Chachki barely got any hits on google, that it was Parson’s assignments and internships that popped up, the Galactica employee directory right at the top, but Sutan had never considered that possibility, had never even toyed with it.

“This wasn’t how I planned on telling you. Actually, I probably wasn’t counting on telling you at all, but I’m not…” Violet was fiddling with the tiniest hole in her yoga mat, her fingers tugging on the foam. “I wasn’t born Violet. Wasn’t even born a Chachki. Hasn’t it ever seemed weird to you that my last name literally means trinket?”

“It does?”

“Mmh,” Violet smiled, the same heavy sadness he had seen in the hospital in her eyes. “I needed to not be… Blair anymore.”

“Blair?”

“Yes,” Violet nodded. “Blair Dardo. It was my birth name. I never liked it, and I changed it the moment I turned 18, left it behind the second I could. That’s why I can’t,” Violet gestured vaguely to Sutan’s phone. “Changing it meant that they can’t, that they can’t find me, and I-”

Sutan didn’t know what to say, but it felt like he had just been given another puzzle piece in the mystery that was his girlfriend.

“I’m sorry.”

Violet’s head snapped to attention, her eyes widening in confusion. “...What?”

“I’m sorry.” Sutan said it again, making sure he put his genuine emotion behind the words. “I should have realized that you weren’t saying no to be difficult, and yet I kept pushing.”

“Sutan-” Violet still looked confused and a little suspicious, like she didn’t really understand what he was doing. “You don’t have to-”

“No but I do.” Sutan smiled. “I get it now, and I’m sorry, but next time you have a deep dark secret, maybe you could just tell me instead of this charade-”

Sutan was cut off as Violet threw herself in his arms, knocking him down on the floor and kissing him like her life depended on it, gratitude rolling off of her in waves.

***

“Raja?”

Alyssa held out the plate of croissants, Raja waving it away since she didn’t want one. The entire senior management team was gathered in the  conference room, Fame for some ungodly reason always insisting on a full breakfast spread for their Monday meetings, even though only a fraction of them ever actually ate any of it.

“So,” Fame looked around, a gold fountain pen in her hand, a black moleskin notebook open in front of her. “Any updates?”

The theme of today's meeting was the 2015 Met Gala, Raja barely hiding a groan when Courtney had sent out the meeting agenda.

It wasn’t that she disliked the Met Gala, the first Monday in May a spectacular party, but it was such a hassle getting there, the gala the fashion world's version of the Oscars.

“Yes,” Pearl smiled, turning around in her chair. She was weirdly chipper, her blonde hair collected in a clip, her signature leather jacket exchanged with a cropped black fur. “We have the final confirmation from Jessica Chastain’s team. She’s in.”

“Good,” Fame nodded, making a note in her moleskin, the fact that Fame was actually writing herself more than enough to cement the severity of the situation. Courtney was standing against the wall, Ivy sitting at the table with her computer open, typing away, but when it came to the Met, Fame left nothing up to chance.

“She’s looking forward to working with us, and she says she’s honored-”

“Yada yada yada,” Fame made a hand puppet, and Raja had to hide a smile, Pearl leaning back in her chair with a roll of her eyes, mouthing at everyone else that she’d send a follow up email.

It was Fame who had requested Jessica, in her own roundabout way, her friend casually mentioning to Raja that she had a good smile, which was more than enough for Raja to make Pearl offer her up as Galactica’s celebrity face.

It wasn’t every house who did it, but the big ones always had a celebrity at the gala, wearing their clothes and repping the brand.

“Does anyone know if they’ve moved away from the terrible theme yet?”

“It doesn’t seem like it,” Alaska offered up, the promotional material the Met had sent out at the start of the fall in the middle of the table thanks to Ivy’s forthsight. “It’s December, and since we haven’t heard anything, they’re sticking with China's influence on western fashion.”

“Good god, I was really hoping they had come to their senses.” Fame breathed out through her nose, and Raja had to agree with her. Sure, ‘China: Through the Looking Glass’ made sense as an art exhibition, but there was really no way to convert it to fashion without being culturally insensitive at best and offensively appropriative at worst.

Besides, Galactica had never been a brand that sought inspiration from the east in their designs and aesthetics, which made the entire situation quite the predicament.

“I’m sure we can work with it,” Trixie gave a small smile, the stack of papers by his elbow indicating that he had probably already put his senior designers to work coming up with concepts.

“And how,” Fame turned, looking directly at Trixie. “Are we supposed to work with it? Raja’s the only one who could possibly get away with being theme appropriate.”

Usually, Fame and Raja were the ones who walked the carpet together with their celebrity, Fame a nervous wreck for weeks before the gala because of all the strangers, while Raja enjoyed it because of her modeling days, seeing old acquaintances without the stresses of fashion week, a delightful yearly treat.

“I’m Indonesian.” Raja knew Fame didn’t mean anything by it, and she wasn’t that concerned about being politically correct herself, but everyone knew what it could mean for a fashion house to misstep, Dolce and Gabbana somehow walking directly from one scandal and into another one. “Not Chinese.”

“See?” Fame sighed, leaning back in her chair. “It’s a controversial time bomb. Either, we stay on theme, which I refuse since I look terrible in Chinese red, ”

“So we’re going off theme?” Trixie had picked up his papers, sorting through them, and Raja felt a moment of gratitude for their head of design, Trixie of course coming prepared with off-theme suggestions as well.

“Unless they get a grip and change it? Yes. Yes we are.”

*

“There!” Everyone held their breath as Maxwell pointed at Violet’s screen, an email from Ivy just ticking in, the Met Gala meeting still in full swing.

“Open it, Chachki!” Blu was practically biting her nails, hopping from one foot to the other, her red hair in a braid over her shoulder.

“Alright, alright-“ Violet clicked on the email, Bob standing right behind her, his eyes flying over the screen before he called out.

“It’s Jessica!”

A collective sigh of relief went through the floor, a loud ‘yes’ coming from Kiara who was clapping her hands together, the group breaking up, chatter filling the air.

“Thank god,” Maxwell groaned, putting a hand on Violet’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze. “I knew having you here would be worth it Chachki.”

“Right.” Violet raised an eyebrow, looking up at him, clearly not understanding why no one had thought to simply ask Ivy for updates before, the suggestion just casually slipping from her during morning coffee, the entire department running with it instantly. “But I still don’t-“

“Get it?” They turned to look over at Jovan who was sitting at his own desk, the man one of the few who hadn’t gathered around Violet’s computer.

“Yes.” Violet nodded. “If you needed information all this time, you could have just asked-”

“Like we could have just asked you?” Bob said, cutting her off and Violet opened her mouth, only to close it again. “Exactly.” Bob grinned. “You would have told us to fuck off.”

“I see your point.” Violet tapped her fingers on her desk, a small smile on her lips since everyone knew she would have said those exact words directly to their faces when she had been in Fame’s front office. “But, why is it such a big deal if a celeb is confirmed or not? The gala isn’t until May, that’s 4 months away and it’s three outfits. A whole collection is usually done in that time.”

“A collection doesn’t have to be approved by the celebrity,” Maxwell counted on his fingers, “the celebrity’s stylist, Vogue and Anna Wintour personally on top of Trixie, Raja and Fame. Alexis usually starts producing concepts in October.”

“As soon as they reveal the theme girl!” Alexis yelled over her shoulder, already pulling her sketches from their shelf, the confirmation meaning that she’d be in a meeting with Trixie for the rest of the day, working out the details of the first round of negotiations with the celebrity.

“Huh…” Violet looked around, the puzzled expression still on her face. “And what about-“

“Fame and Raja?”

Violet nodded.

“You’d think Fame would be the difficult one-“ Maxwell smiled.

“But make something gorgeous and custom in ivory and she’s on board,” Jovan grinned, putting the pen he was using behind his ear as he turned around in his chair. “Every year, she pretends like she’ll follow the theme, and then never does.”

“Exactly.” Maxwell nodded. “Fame is demanding, but consistent. Trixie has an entire drawer of Fame-appropriate outfits that we all contribute to whenever we have an idea.”

“That makes a disturbing amount of sense,” Violet looked mildly impressed, and if any of the rumors Maxwell had heard about how she had managed Fame’s front office, that approach wasn’t too far off from how Violet herself had attempted to tame the beast.

“Rule one of surviving at Galactica: Never disappoint Miss Fame. For once, however, Fame isn’t the problem.” Maxwell sighed, taking a seat on the edge of Violet’s desk. “Raja is.”

“Raja?” Violet looked genuinely surprised. “Really?”

“Yes really.” Maxwell crossed his arms. “Every year, she tells us that she’s chill, that she’ll wear whatever goes with the spring collection or the theme-“

“And every single year, she changes her mind at least four times.” Bob chimed in, the drama loving smirks on his lip. “More if you’re lucky.”

“Which is why,” Maxwell nudged Bob’s side with his elbow. “We’ve unanimously decided that you have the honor of dressing Raja for this year's Met Gala.”

“Me?” Violet’s eyes widened. “What? Why?” Violet looked at them, confusion painted on her face. “I’m the most junior member of staff.”

“True, but you’re also sucking her brother's dick,” Maxwell grinned, “so we figured she can’t kill you during the process, unlike the rest of us mere mortals.”

***

It should have been one of the most exciting mornings since Courtney started at Galactica--Miss Fame and Raja were being interviewed on a talk show, and so she got to go to the famous 30 Rockefeller Plaza building, and be on the set of a real television show. Unfortunately, it was such a whirlwind of activity and Miss Fame was in such a demanding mood that she didn’t have a second to enjoy it.

She felt like a chicken with its head cut off, running around in a hectic scramble to meet every request. Today was the last day before their holiday break, and even though Courtney knew that spending her break with Bianca would be incredible, she also knew that she had about a billion things to do before that could even start. Today was supposed to be a half day, but with how packed the schedule was, she’d be lucky to leave by 5.

She entered Miss Fame’s green room, silently handing her the coffee she’d asked for and then leaning on the wall to catch her breath. Miss Fame took a sip and then immediately spit the coffee back out.

“What is this?” she asked, holding the cup out like it was a bag of dog shit.

“It’s your usual-”

“This is not my usual. This is weak, and not hot enough, and-did you just roll your eyes?”

“No, Miss!” Courtney insisted, praying that she was telling the truth. She was tired, having arrived at the office at 6 am to drop off her stuff for Bianca’s, and there was a teeny tiny chance that she may have (accidentally) rolled her eyes. “Would you like a new-”

“Let me tell you something, Courtney. This may be the last day before a vacation, but I expect you to be fully present and accounted for. We have too many important things going on and I will not accept anything less than your absolute very best. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Miss.”

“Now. Please go find me some decent coffee before I get a migraine.”

“Yes, Miss.”

“And after you come back, I need you to go to the dry cleaners. I’ve decided to wear my ivory Valentino suit to meet the investors later.”

“Yes, Miss, will do.”

“That’s all,” Miss Fame said, waving her hand, and Courtney took off back down the labyrinthine hallways of 30 Rock to hunt down a coffee that would meet her standards.

***

“Good morning! Welcome back to Coast to Coast. I’m Nina West, and today we are positively blessed to have with us the icons of fashion, Miss Fame and Raja Gemini of Galactica, here to talk to us about dressing to impress in the new year, and their exciting new business ventures. Thank you so much for being here, ladies!”

“Thank you, we’re thrilled to be here,” Fame smiled, the lie easily falling out of her red painted lips.

Raja could see the way her hands were clenched in her lap, her wedding ring turned inward and digging into her palm, and knew that she was at her tensest.

Raja had long ago gotten used to giving live interviews. She had a laid-back attitude and while she always wanted to represent the company in the most flattering light, she tended to relax and let the conversation flow naturally.

Fame, however, had never quite gotten the hang of it in the same way. She was just so brand-conscious, almost to a debilitating degree, written interviews so much more her speed.

She always looked impeccable, very much the ice goddess she was so often called, but Fame had never gotten the same confidence in her speaking skills as Raja, who had been dragged through developing them in her modeling career.

Even though Fame hated being on live TV, they occasionally got an offer they couldn’t turn down, and between the makeup line being released in January and the overhaul of their website and online store, they had a lot to plug.

The whole thing was so stressful Fame had asked Raja four times to check her pits for sweat stains, her papers with facts from the makeup department and pointers from Pearl not leaving her hand until they literally had to go on.

Raja leaned forward, giving Fame’s shoulder a reassuring pat, and added, “This is our favorite show, we never miss it!”

“Aww, thank you!” said Nina, grinning. “Now, I’ve heard through the grapevine that you have an exciting announcement.”

“Yes, and we’re so happy to be able to share the news with your viewers first-”

“An exclusive!” Nina exclaimed, eyes comically wide and mouth open as if this was news to her.

“Yes, exactly. Early this year, we released a limited makeup line, and it’s been doing just wonderfully. So in 2015, we’re going to be rolling out a full line of makeup and skincare, with special edition palettes and colors all throughout the spring.”

“All natural, vegan, cruelty free...I always want the very best for my own skin and I wouldn’t offer our customers anything less,” Fame cut in, and Raja felt a surge of pride at how natural she sounded. All their rehearsing had clearly paid off.

“If you use it, I’ll use it!” Nina said with a chuckle. “You both have the most gorgeous skin I’ve ever seen.”

“We expect the first batch to sell out quickly,” Raja said, “So go straight to our website, Galactica dot com, and sign up to be part of the mailing list to receive alerts on all new product launches and where they’ll show up in stores.”

“I’m doing that, the second we go to commercials,” Nina said. “But first, I heard that there’s more news about your spring line...”

***

Patrick reached for the remote, turning off the TV as Nina West rounded out the segment with Fame and Raja.

He was sitting in his office, wrapping up the last details before the firm could close down for the holiday break.

Fame had done a great job, the nerves he knew she had felt not showing on her beautiful face. Patrick picked up his phone, a smile on his lips as he started to type out a text.

Fame would probably not read it until she left work for the day, but he was proud of her, and he hoped that she was proud of herself too.

***

Fame collapsed onto her dressing room sofa, completely emotionally drained, the crystals she had stuffed in her bra digging against her skin.

Being on camera for live television always took up every drop of energy, and left her with nothing to spare. Unfortunately, she knew that she didn’t have much time to rest, since she was due at the Russian Tea Room to meet her potential investors in less than an hour. The makeup artist they’d hired was standing by for touch-ups, and her ivory Valentino suit hung in its dry cleaning bag on the clothing rack. But first, she knew that her blood sugar was dangerously low, so she needed…

She looked around. Where on earth was Courtney? Fame had never met someone with such a tendency to be underfoot at the worst times and completely MIA when her presence was required. She walked to the doorway, spotting Courtney having a casual chat with a girl in a headset, carefree as anything.

“Courtney!” she snapped, and Courtney looked up, surprised, even though she was literally here for the sole purpose of taking care of Fame’s needs. “Come!”

Fame turned and walked back into her dressing room, irritated, the rapid click of Courtney’s heels as she ran over grating on her nerves.

“Yes, Miss?”

“I need to eat.”

“Oh…” Courtney’s gaze shifted to the table, where a fruit basket sat amongst assorted pastries and other snack food.

“Not that sugary garbage,” Fame explained. “Violet always had- Don’t you have any protein bars?”

“Oh, of course!” Courtney exclaimed, rummaging through her purse.

Fame rolled her eyes, sighing. That girl truly was useless. What Bianca saw in her, Fame would never understand. She took one of the protein bars that Courtney had carefully lined up on the arm of the sofa beside her.

“I think you’d better head back to the office and prepare the conference room for the investor presentation.”

“Oh, but did you need anything el-”

“No, I’m much more concerned with the meeting,” Fame said. “Everything needs to be perfect. These people will be paying attention to every little detail.”

“Yes, Miss.”

“Oh, and take this back with you…” Fame handed over a large manila envelope. “It’s some sketches I’ve been working on.”

“Sure.” Courtney began to put the envelope into her bag, and Fame’s eyes widened with alarm.

“Don’t bend them! For god’s sake…”

“Sorry Miss,” Courtney said, biting her lip, holding the envelope at her side. “Is there anything else you need before I-”

“No. That’s all.”

***

Courtney sat in the back of a cab, eyes squeezed tightly shut, using the time in traffic to center herself and go over her massive to do list. She had to make sure that all the presentations for the meeting were set up, work with IT to test it, messenger out the holiday gifts that Miss Fame added at the last minute, make sure the schedule for January was in order, set up her out of office reply…

Plus, the meeting with the investors wouldn’t begin until they were back from the restaurant, so the “half day” was looking more and more like a full day. At this point, settling in at Bianca’s felt like it was a million years away--and traffic crawling at a standstill didn’t help anything.

She pulled out her phone. Maybe she could set up some of the gift deliveries now, while she was stuck in the cab.

When they were finally in sight of the Galactica building, her phone started buzzing. She looked at the screen. Miss Fame. That couldn’t be anything good.

Courtney took a deep breath and answered, stomach tightening.

“Hello?”

“Courtney!” Miss Fame’s voice was sharp, sharper than usual. “Do you ever use your head? Or do you just go through life without a shred of critical thinking?”

It was fairly obvious that it was a rhetorical question, so Courtney kept her mouth shut, wondering what had gone wrong, what mess she’d have to clean up now.

[caermis]

❝ The Wish to Return...❞ Pt. 2

(A) Todoroki Shouto X (A)Bakugou Katsuki X Black!Reader X (A)Midoriya Izuku 

✑Characters ⟹(Apex Alpha) Todoroki Shouto ⟹(Alpha)Bakugou Katsuki ⟹(Alpha)Midoriya Izuku

✑Warnings: ⟹Yandere ⟹NSFW ⟹Non-con ⟹Mental/Physiological abuse ⟹Sexism ⟹Gender Norms

✑Prompt/Summary: Three males are dropped off into the middle of nowhere, having no clue what's going on or how long they'll be away. Yet the sweet smell of a woman makes them want to stay.

✑Notes: ⟹No Quirk AU ⟹Y/C/S = Your certain scent ⟹Listen, don't @ me. I’m trying something new with the Omegaverse bear with me pls ⟹Aged up ⟹Some warnings don't apply to this part, but for future parts. The NSFW still applies to this part.

«Pt.1»   «Pt.2»

Part 2: Disapperance 

Gone. 

Like you weren't even there to begin with. 

But the sweet smell of Y/C/S still lingered in the air.

It was upsetting. 

Whoever you are was just begging to be claimed, releasing such a sweet smell in the night alone with no Alpha or scent upon you. It could make one drool at how defenseless you were. The two men stare at where you once stood, inhaling all that they could before your scent was gone forever. They wanted you… no, needed you.

Upon walking back inside, Todoroki immediately headed to his room. Izuku in deep thought as he walked back to his room, only for soft speaking of the Beta and Omega in the kitchen, cleaning up from tonight's dinner. “It smells like Y/C/S or like fresh something. It’s always so potent.” Uraraka giggled happily as she looked up at her friend, his hands deep in dishwater.

“Maybe they're in the town. We can travel down and see.”

“I've already been, but they weren't there. Maybe they're from Haibazia!”

“We can't travel there, especially, with the overrun of Alphas.”

“So then the Festival! Everyone goes.” The two girls chatted to each other excitedly, Izuku pushing away from the back wall and walking to his bedroom. Eavesdropping on people wasn't something he'd like to do, but something he did often.

Haibazia, a much larger and more profitable town, but overrun with Alphas. Muttering all the possibilities, he stopped outside his room. ‘Taking two Alphas there won't do us any good.’ Mentally cursing his friends for their bad attitudes, made traveling much harder. 

That night he couldn't sleep. 

The soft voice whispering into his ear. Random hands running up his body. Like another body was pressed up against and the smell of Y/C/S filling his nose.

Bakugou was the second awake, finding Todoroki sitting at the dinner table rubbing a liquid against his neck. It wasn't odd to see Todoroki awake this early. He ran on his own internal clock, which resulted in him getting up before the sun rose.  “I suggest you wear this too.” Bakugou snatched the bottle and read over it. 

‘Scent Cancellationn.’

He glared and crossed his arms. “I don't need it.” Todoroki glanced at Bakugou, sending a shiver down his spine. Removing his hand over his scent gland, Bakugou slightly flinched at the movement. “I wasn't asking Katsuki. You can’t control yourself, and the last thing I need is for you to ruin my agenda.” 

“Sorry.” Muttering an apology, he applied the scent cancellation, avoiding Todoroki’s stare. He hated himself for easily bending over to Todoroki’s will. If it came down to a physical fight, Bakugou was sure he could win… right? That’s what he was taught to believe. He was above the rest throughout all his school years and a few of his adult life until he met Todoroki Shouto for a modeling gig.

‘Japan’s Hottest Alpha.’ 

A rank 1 through 10. Bakugou had been sure he would easily gain number one place until Todoroki came along and took his spot. Bakugou was enraged and Todoroki wasn't one who flaunted his status as Apex Alpha, well not anymore. He held that above Bakugou’s head, like a sweet treat that Bakugou couldn't earn no matter how good he was in his career. 

One could say that Bakugou was the reason Todoroki flaunted his power.

“Such a tense atmosphere.”

Kirishima tried to lighten the mood as he sat down at the table. “I see Midoriya isn’t awake.” He chuckled, earning a glare from Bakugou. “He has a difficult time waking up.” Midoriya being the type of person he is rather stays up the entire night and sleeps the entire day, until exactly 8:30 AM. No matter how long he stayed up the previous night, let him go to sleep at 8:00 AM, expecting him to be up and active at 8:30 AM.

“Todoroki, so you're an Apex Alpha?”

Rare. Most Alpha’s can go through their entire life without meeting an Apex Alpha. Nodded, he leaned back in his chair, straightening his spine. “My father was also one.” Kirishima’s eyes widen, asking Alpha a bunch of questions. How was your life growing up? Do you have a mate? Todoroki answered each one calmly, the fresh smell of the rain on wood getting stronger. 

“Slow down would you. I'm sure an attractive guy like Todoroki has some pretty little Omega at home.” Denki walked in sitting behind his friend. He was an unclaimed Omega and not on the timid or shy side, due to being around Alphas all the time.

“I don’t. I don’t have any interest in finding one.” Bakugou sneered at his comment, knowing damn well that any Omega Todoroki found interest in, he would scare them away, looking damn well unapproachable. “What about you, Bakubro? Any special Omega at home?”

“Tch. I don't want one.” That was a lie. Due to how Bakugou acted, he attracted Omegas that were overly confident and overly rude. Not to say he didn't want a confident mate, but he didn't need one insulting him constantly as their form of flirting. One asshole in the relationship was enough, and that asshole was going to be him.

“What about Midoriya?”

“He’s far too involved in his work.” Todoroki and Bakugou spoke at the same time. Midoriya easily attracted partners, Omegas to Alphas. He had a soft personality and spoke fondly about the things he liked and grew more confident after their first years at UA. Which drew girls, boys, and in between towards him. Like moths to a flame.

“That’s not true. I have an Omega in mind.” 

Izuku appeared with a soft grin. His eyes flickering over to Todoroki, before taking a seat beside Bakugou and Denki. A possessive growl leaves Todoroki’s mouth, leaving Izuku slightly unfazed.  Another thing pissed off Bakugou.

Deku.

He was an Alpha, a regular Alpha, but could fake it. Appearing as Apex Alpha, when his scent wasn't involved. His acting was so convincing, it even at moments tricked Todoroki. “You can't act all possessive if you haven't even met Omega.”

“Did you both catch a whiff of Y/C/S? We smell them a lot during the week.”

“You know about Y/C/S.” Kirishima nodded. “No one knows their name, well... I think Momo might know.”  Denki nodded and crossed his arms. “They come around here a lot, before disappearing. During the night, the entire driveway has the strongest smell of Y/C/S, but it’s gone in a matter of seconds, but I’ve actually seen her.” 

Denki spoke smugly, earning a playful shove by Kirishima. “What do they look like?” Izuku asked next. “They look like no one from around here. H/C hair that was extremely curly and in an Afro I can't remember her face exactly, ‘cause we only spoke for a small amount of time, but they had warm brown skin. Their voice was soft, with a light accent when pronouncing a few words.”

“Most of the town knows about their existence. I guess only two people had an actual conversation with them. Speak of the devil.” An earthy smell flowed from outside, followed by a soft knock on the front door. “I got it!” Uraraka opened the front door with a smile. 

“Momo!” Greeting the Alpha and allowing her inside. “Any treats for us.” Momo held up a large bag, following Uraraka into the kitchen. “Hopefully we can squeeze information outta Momo today.” Denki snickered, earning a slap on his arm.

Watching the black-haired woman descend the driveway, back to a wagon. Shouto watched in pure silence. Mentally cursing himself for getting distracted. His goal was to find a way home, so why was the appearance of this Omega distracting, There were two things that were going to happen if Todoroki found this Omega, either make them his and his alone or

rip your throat out for wasting his time.

“You sitting there pretending to be the good guy is pissing me off.” Kirishima and Denki both leaving to clean up the garden, leaving Izuku and Bakugou alone. “I'm not doing anything Kacchan.” Izuku leaned back and took another sip of his coffee, staring at Bakugou.

“You plan to fight Todoroki for that Omega. You'll lose.”

“As a person who acts so above everyone, you sure do scare easily.” Over the years, Midoriya graduating as Valedictorian, and going to a prestigious school earning his Masters in Psychology, and becoming one of the world's top researchers. He had become cocky and easily stood up to Kacchan, always seeming to be the peacekeeper. 

“I’m not dumb. I know what I can and can’t beat. Todoroki is one of those things I can't beat. You'll lose.”

“I don't plan to fight.” He was smart, far too smart for his own good.

“Y/N.” A soft voice called out, drawing me in from my imagination. Looking over my shoulder, I straightened my back. “Yes, Sir.” Hearing the soft jingle of chains as I stood, walking towards the man. 

“Seems your midnight walks have drawn attention to the townsfolk. What do you have to say?” His hand tilted my chin, his thumb running over my lips. “Forgive me. I was selfish.” He chuckled and placed a light kiss on my cheek, whispering against my skin.

“Learn to control yourself, or no one will want you.”

«Pt.1»  «Pt.2»

[shadowywerewolfqueen]

Carry On

For Suptober Day 31

It was a bright and sunny day on a small bridge somewhere near Jericho, California. A large beast of a car, a 1967 Chevrolet Impala named Baby, is parked in the middle of the bridge, four men leaning against her hood. One of the men is younger than the rest, looking to be in his early twenties even though in reality he is only three years old. He’s dressed in a tan jacket, white t-shirt, and jeans. He’s got dark blonde hair that falls into his face and covers his right eye. Jack looks at the three men next to him and can’t help but smile as he takes a sip of Coke.

Standing next to Jack is Sam Winchester. He’s the tallest of the four men at six foot four. His long chocolate brown hair is all the way to the back of his neck and the first few strands of gray are starting to creep in. He’s dressed in a light tan jacket with a gray hood, a bright blue t-shirt, jeans, and an old pair of dark gray sneakers. For the first time in over a decade, his posture is relaxed, and his brown eyes are filled with happiness. He brings the beer bottle he’s holding to his lips and takes a long drag. He looks at Jack and wraps his arm around the kid, glad to have his son next to him.

On Sam’s left side is his elder brother Dean. He’s a couple inches shorter than Sam with dark blonde hair, the sides and front with obvious streaks of gray. He’s wearing three layers of clothes: a dark blue t-shirt, a red plaid overshirt, and a grayish-blue jacket along with jeans and a brown pair of boots. He’s wearing a bright smile, his bright green eyes are full of laughter, and for once he doesn’t bear the weight of the world on his shoulders. He’s holding a beer in his right hand while his left arm is wrapped around the person standing next to him. Dean leans over and presses a chaste kiss to Cas’ cheek.

Cas is an inch shorter than Dean and even though he only looks a few years older than Dean, is actually over four billion years old. Castiel was once an Angel of the Lord and was captain of his own garrison of Heaven’s warriors. Now, he is human and he wouldn’t have it any other way. He’s dressed much more differently than normal, wearing jeans and a red t-shirt although he’s still dressed in his calf length tan trench coat. Like Dean and Sam, his cerulean blue eyes are unusually joyful and a large gummy smile takes up most of his face. He’s holding a Coke in his hands, but it’s still almost full. He’s too busy staring at his family to take a drink. He had never imagined the four of them would be where they are and is still having a hard time believing this is the ending they’re going to get after a fifteen year long journey.

The past few months have been brutal for all of them. After finding out God was planning on destroying the world, they had been searching for ways to kill the man. Chuck had put them through trial after trial, doing his best to break the four men and prevent them from winning. He had nearly succeeded when Dean had become so desperate that he had almost shot Sam and sacrificed Jack just to kill Chuck. If not for Sam talking Dean down and reminding him of the love he had for his family, Chuck would have gotten the ending he wanted. But, he had never been able to control this version of Sam, Dean, and Cas.

They had been thrown for another loop when they realized that they weren’t facing one villain but two. Billie, the new Death, had her own agenda. She wanted Chuck dead but not just because he was destroying the universe. She wanted Chuck dead, so she could become the new God and could set the world back to its original settings. She wanted to send everyone back to their original resting places and make sure that what was dead stayed dead.

The fight with Billie had almost cost Dean everything. After Chuck absorbed Amara and made his little speech about being unable to control them, he popped out of the bunker to places unknown. Dean, Cas, and Sam had dragged Jack to his room and then went to the library, intent on finding a way to save their son. They had been desperate, searching for anything that could keep Jack from imploding on himself. They didn’t care how absurd or farfetched, as long as it would save the Nephilim.

As they were searching, Billie showed up and all of them went on high alert. She was dressed in her usual jacket and dress, all black of course, with her scythe in her hand. Her eyes were twin pools of fire. “You three have ruined my plans.”

“Oh, you mean keeping you from becoming God and from killing us all over again,” Dean barked.

Billie glared at Dean. “You three have broken the natural order of things over and over again. It’s time somebody set things straight, and that means putting you back where you should be. Dean in Hell, Sam in Heaven, and Castiel in the Empty. And every decision and every action that the three of you have caused will be reversed. Order will be restored.”

“So, you lock the demons and the angels up? Close Purgatory and the Empty down? When does it stop Billie? When do you say you’ve interfered enough?” Sam asked defiantly.

“My interference will stop when I’ve made sure to set everything right,” Billie stated, her anger barely contained. “Every demon locked in Hell, every angel caged in Heaven, and every creature that dies stays dead whether it be human, monster, or angel. There will be no more coming back from the dead. Angels and demons will stay in the Empty, monsters in Purgatory, and human souls in Heaven or Hell. That was the way it was always meant to be until Chuck started bending the rules. I will not be so flexible. Now, give me Jack so I can take him to kill God.”

Castiel let his angel blade fall into his hand before stepping in front of the brothers. “You will have to go through me, through all of us before you hurt him!”

Billie let out a short chuckle. “How do you intend to stop me?”

Dean stepped up next to the angel. He pulled his gun from his pocket and pointed it at the reaper. “Like we always do, make it up as we go.” He pressed the trigger and watched as the bullet hit Billie square in the chest.

The reaper looked at the bullet hole before looking back at Dean. The calm mask she had been wearing fell and her face contorted into rage. “Fine! You want to do this the hard way, then we’ll do this the hard way. The plan has changed, I’d like to see you dead!”

Castiel surged forward, brandishing his blade. There was a clang of metal as the angel blade met scythe. While they fought, Dean turned to Sam. “GO! Get Jack, and get the hell out of dodge! We’ll hold her off! Save the kid!”

“Dean, no, there has to be…”

“Dammit Sam! GO! We don’t have time to argue,” Dean cried before pulling the demon knife from inside his jacket and charging at Billie.  Sam hesitated, taking in his brother and Cas one last time before running from the room to get Jack. 

Dean and Cas were doing their best to distract Billie, but it was obvious they were outnumbered. Dean was just a human, and Billie easily slung him out of the way when he charged her. Cas, even with his angel powers, was nothing compared to the Reaper of Death. He had been thrown against the wall a few times and blood was trickling from multiple cuts. Still, he and Dean kept fighting until Dean cried out in agony.

Cas’ eyes locked on the hunter immediately. Dean was lying on the ground at Billie’s feet, blood pouring from a gash on his side. Billie was standing over him, bright red drops falling from her scythe. “DEAN,” Cas cried.

He grabbed his angel blade and threw it at the reaper. He watched with satisfaction as the blade landed deep in her stomach. He didn’t watch what happened afterwards, instead running over to Dean and pulling him to his feet before hobbling out the library. Dean was leaning heavily on the angel as he held his hand to the gash on his side, blood dribbling out between his fingers. 

“Where the hell are we going,” Dean gasped out as Cas practically dragged him down the hallway.

“I don’t know, away from the library,” Cas replied.

Dean grimaced as his side was jarred as Cas continued to drag him. They continued to stumble along the hallway when there was a sudden boom behind them. Dean looked over his shoulder to see Billie storming down the hallway after them, murder in her eyes.

“There is nowhere for you two to escape from me,” she called.

“Cas, we gotta get somewhere and ward the room,” Dean said through clenched teeth.

The very next door they came to, Cas ushered them through. He left Dean leaning against the wall as he used his grace to cut a gash in his arm. He used the blood to start drawing symbols on the door. After he drew half a dozen, he hooked an arm around Dean’s waist and started moving forward again. Cas pulled the two bookshelves from the wall and led them into the dungeon. He dropped Dean in the chair in the middle of the pentagram on the floor before turning back to the shelves. 

After closing the shelves, Cas once again used the blood still dripping down his arm to draw even more symbols. Once he was done, he faced Dean. “That will slow her down, but it won’t stop her.” He walked over to Dean and kneeled next to the hunter. He pulled the tattered clothing away and looked at the bleeding gash on Dean’s side. He pressed his hand to it, ignoring Dean’s pained gasp, and sent his grace into the wound.

Dean relaxed as his wound was healed. “Thanks, but you should have saved your grace. What the hell are we going to do Cas?”

Cas was silent for a moment before softly saying, “I’m going to kill her. With Billie gone, all you have to worry about is Chuck.” There was a loud hammering sound, causing both men to flinch.

“Wait, what do you mean you have to worry about Chuck? How are you going to kill her?” Dean asked, his face contorting into a frown.

Cas dropped his eyes. “Similar to what Jack was going to do. I’m going to use my grace as a bomb.”

Dean jumped to his feet. “NO! NO, we can’t lose you! Sam, Jack… me, we need you!” Dean was silent for a second before adding, “I need you! I won’t lose you, Cas, not again.”

Tears were already forming in the corners of the angel’s eyes. “Dean, let me do this. You’ve fought for this whole world. You’ve sacrificed your life and made impossible decisions. All my life, I’ve made the wrong decisions even if I thought I was doing the right thing. The leviathans got out because of me, the angels fell because of me, Lucifer got out the cage because of me. I’ve made so many wrong choices; I need to make one right one!”

During the entire speech, they could hear Billie banging on the door. From what they could hear, she had almost broken it down, meaning they only had minutes left. 

“No, please Cas! You haven’t always made the wrong decisions! You pulled me and Sam from Hell, you saved our asses countless times, you made sure Jack came into this world! You’ve done tons of good,” Dean argued.

Cas reached out and placed his bloody hand on the left shoulder of Dean’s jacket. “ I know how desperately you hate the idea of Chuck taking your free will from you, but you’ve always had it. Even Chuck admitted that he could never control us, never able to take our free will from us. You were the one to teach it to me. Let me make this choice. Let this be my free will.

I know how upset you were when you thought you didn’t have that. I know you were only lying to yourself so that you could allow Jack to sacrifice himself. I know you think of him as family and as your son. So do I. You’ve sacrificed for your loved ones so many times. Now it’s my turn. Let me protect the ones I love, Sam, Jack… you.”

Dean let out a shuddering breath. “I never meant what I said about Jack and I never should have held that gun on Sam! I was so angry, so furious and I just wanted Chuck dead. I love Jack and Sam and-and.”

“Hush Dean,” Cas said, cutting the hunter off. 

“Cas.”

“I’m a dead man anyway Dean. When Jack died, the Shadow showed up to take him to the Empty. I made a deal to save Jack. I offered to go in his place, but the Shadow won’t take me until I’m truly happy,” Cas explained.

Dean looked at Cas, heartbreak evident in his eyes. “You weren’t happy with us, with me?”

Cas reached his unbloodied hand out and cupped Dean’s cheek. “Of course I was. You’ve always made me happy even when we’re fighting. And Sam and Jack, they bring happiness to me too. But with Chuck looming on the horizon, none of us have been truly happy. Only once he’s dead, will I be truly happy. So you see, that’s what awaits me after this war. Let my death mean something Dean.”

There was the sound of shattering wood and they knew Billie had finally made it through the doorway. “These wardings won’t last very long now that I know how to break them.”

Dean looked over his shoulder, tears swimming in his eyes. He focused back on Cas. “I love you.”

Cas squeezed Dean’s cheek. “From the moment I touched you in Hell, I was lost to you. You have always been my free will.”

“And you’ve always been mine,” Dean whispered before leaning forward and capturing the angel’s lips in a soft kiss.

“I love you Dean. Save Jack. Kill Chuck and save the world. And most importantly, carry on and live for me.” Cas pressed one more tender kiss to Dean’s lips before turning to face the shelves. Dean watched as Cas shed his trench coat, jacket and shirt before once more cutting his arm. He started drawing sigils, this time on his own skin. Dean could feel the power starting to coil inside the angel and he wished they had more time, that there was another option.

They watched as the shelves shattered into hundreds of pieces and Billie walked through the dust. “Well well boys. Did you really think those wardings would stop me?”

Cas glanced at Dean one last time before saying, “No, just delay you.”

Billie snorted. “Delay me for what?”

“For this,” Cas replied. He pushed Dean backwards against the wall as he slammed his hand against his chest. 

Dean watched as Cas’ grace exploded from his chest and raced towards Billie. The reaper didn’t even have a chance to put her hands up before the bright blue flames were enveloping her. In the next instant, the scythe fell to the floor along with a pile of ash. Dean looked to where Cas had been, but there was nothing left, only the burned imprints of his wings on the floor and walls. Dean curled up against the wall, tears running down his face as he ran his hands through his hair. He finally dropped his head, letting it rest against his knees as sobs shook his shoulders.

Minutes later Sam and Jack found him, still in the same position. “Dean, what happened? Where’s Cas?” his brother asked.

Dean just shook his head and pointed to the walls. He heard two gasps and knew that Jack and Sam had seen the marks. 

“Where’s Billie?”

“Dead, thanks to Cas,” Dean replied to Jack’s question.

Before they could say anything else, they were suddenly standing in a grassy field. “How is it that the four of you manage to ruin my ending every single time?” Chuck shouted. “I didn’t get my brother killing brother ending, so I figured I would let Billie kill you, and then I would just end her. But of course, Dean and that damn broken angel managed to thwart my plans once again! How?”

Dean stood to his feet and wiped the tears from his eyes. “Because you underestimate how strong love is. You stand there and say you’ve never been able to control us, that we’ve always had our own free will. That’s because the bonds between us are unshakeable. I have always protected Sam from every evil that threatened him. Cas and I shared a bond that transcended time and universes and even Hell.” Dean looked at Jack. “And that kid, that kid is family, is our son. If there’s one thing that a Winchester knows, it’s that family doesn’t end in blood. Sam, Jack, Cas, and I, we’re family. Family protects family, and that’s one thing you’ve never understood, and because of that you can’t control it.”

Chuck scoffed. “Oh please! This isn’t some Disney fairytale where love conquers all. Power, power conquers all. How do you think I killed my sister finally?”

“You lied to her… just like I did. I tricked her and told her we needed her help when in reality we were gonna kill her. Amara, if you’re in there, I’m sorry. You offered us your help and instead we planned on killing you. We were wrong, I was wrong,” Dean said, his voice full of remorse.

“Please, she wasn’t exactly hard to lie to,” Chuck spat. “She wanted balance, so all I had to do was promise it to her, and she believed me. After all the times I tried to kill and imprison her, she believed me so quickly. Well, with her power, not even you will be able to stop me. I’ll finally get the ending I want.”

“You can try,” Sam spoke up. “We’ll fight because that’s what we do.”

Chuck laughed. “What are you going to fight with? I’m God boys, how do you expect to stop me?”

Sam and Dean pulled out guns and Jack held his hand out. “I’ve always said I’d go down swinging and that there was a gun at the end of this ugly ass tunnel.”

“Whatever. It’s time to end this story,” Chuck replied as he held his hand up. He threw the three men ten yards away from him. He watched as they all rolled over to look at him as he went to snap his fingers. 

“NO,” Dean cried, but it was too late. 

Chuck snapped his fingers… and nothing happened. He repeated the motion and still nothing. “What the hell?” Suddenly, Chuck doubled over, screaming in agony. “You’re dead! I absorbed you! How is this possible?”

Sam, Jack, and Dean watched as Chuck screamed and his body slowly started disintegrating. Black smoke trailed from his eyes, his mouth, and even his fingers. It swirled around him until he was completely enveloped in it. There was one last shuddering scream before all went silent. As the smoke settled, they were able to make out a woman standing there.

“Goodbye brother,” Amara said simply. “I tried to offer you a way out, but your own arrogance got in the way. We could have ruled together, but you refused my offer, too concerned with writing your own ending. Well, I decided it was time to write one of my own.” 

And so, in the end, God wasn’t defeated by a hunter or an angel or even a Nephilim. Instead, he was beaten by his own sister.

Amara walked over to the three men. She easily healed Sam and Dean of any wounds before going to Jack. She knelt next to him and placed both hands on each side of his head. His eyes glowed a bright gold and the cracks in his skin healed. “Thank you,” he said as Amara helped him to his feet.

“You’re welcome. You know, I think it’s time for a new God. A God who will work with me and rule this universe with balance. Would you be willing to do that?” Amara asked with a smile.

Jack looked to Sam and Dean. Sam nodded. “You’re the best choice.”

Dean walked up to the kid. “Sam’s right, you’re the best choice, but it’s your choice. You get to make that decision without Sam… or me telling you what to do. I’m sorry for what I said. I-I didn’t mean it Jack. I understand if you don’t-if you don’t forgive me.”

Before Dean could say anything else, Jack was throwing his arms around him and hugging the hunter. “I know Dean. I know.” Dean hugged the Nephilim tightly.

When Jack pulled away, he looked back at Amara. “I’ll do it. The world needs balance.”

“It does,” she said as she held her hand out and white clouds spread from her fingers and swirled around Jack. 

Sam and Dean watched as Jack absorbed the white clouds into his body. He looked directly at them, his eyes glowing an electric yellow before turning back to his normal blue. “You’ll make a pretty good God Jack,” Sam said.

Sam pulled Jack into a hug while Amara walked up to Dean. “Well, Dean.”

“Thank you. You didn’t owe us anything. You didn’t owe me anything, especially after I lied to you,” Dean said as he watched his family.

“No, I didn’t, but your apology went a long way. My brother lied to me Dean and felt no remorse about it. He refused to bring balance to this world, and so I took matters into my own hands. Together, Jack and I can do great things. Far greater than what my brother and I ever could.” She turned to face the hunter. “You know, I expected you to be happier. You all came out alive and my brother is gone. Your lives are yours now.”

Dean looked at the ground. “We didn’t all make out. Billie was just as much a villain. Cas killed her by sacrificing himself.”

“I see. That does explain a lot. I’m sorry Dean. This version of Castiel was certainly my favorite. He annoyed my brother to no end,” Amara remarked.

“A crack in his chassis. He was the only Cas with free will just as I was the only Dean with free will and Sam was the only Sam with free will. I guess Jack too.”

“Actually, this is the only universe with Jack. It seems the decisions that the three of you made are what lead to him being born. He was a character my brother never wrote.”

“Well, you never do write about your replacement,” Dean said with a huff.

Sam and Jack chose that moment to walk over to them. “So, how are we getting home?” Sam asked.

“I can take care of that. Jack, I will come for you in a few days and we can start your training. Sam, go call Eileen. I’m sure she would like to hear the good news.” In the next instant, the two were gone. She turned to Dean. “And Dean, you gave me what I needed most. I want to do the same for you.”

“What?” Dean asked.

Amara didn’t answer, just smiled at him and sent him back to the bunker. He landed in the kitchen to see Sam on the phone with Eileen. He smiled at his brother before walking out the kitchen and heading to his room. He couldn’t understand what Amara meant. They had defeated Chuck and Billie and they were alive. There was nothing else he needed.

He shook his head and opened his bedroom door. He flicked the light on and gasped. Sitting on his bed was someone he never thought he’d see again. He watched as the trench coat clad angel stood to his feet and faced him.

Dean stared at the man with disbelief. “Cas?”

“Hello Dean.”

Now, five days later, the four of them had decided to take a roadtrip to California to have some fun for the first time in a long time. Cas was now human, therefore nulling his deal with the Shadow. He and Dean had become inseparable, unwilling to be more than a few inches apart. Sam and Jack had teased them but were glad that the two of them got the ending they deserved.

Before they left for Cali, Dean had put the old KAZ 2Y5 license plate on Baby. He had unloaded her trunk of all the weapons and instead packed it full of everything needed to enjoy a weeklong beach vacation for four. Before they reached the beach, Dean had told them there was one stop he wanted to make. Sam had immediately recognized the small bridge in the middle of the forest on the outskirts of Jericho.

“Dude, are you serious? Why are we stopping here?”

Dean got out of the car, the three men following him. He opened Baby’s trunk and then the cooler inside. He grabbed a beer for Sam and himself and Cokes for Jack and Cas. “Well, it all started here fifteen years ago, I figured it could finish here too.”

Sam took the bottle. “I’m pretty sure it started when you broke into my apartment and told me dad had been on a hunting trip and hadn’t been home for a few days.”

The four of them leaned against Baby’s hood. Dean wrapped an arm around Cas’ waist and pressed a kiss to his cheek before looking at his brother. “Yeah, you’re right, but this was where we ended our first case, so close enough. I wanted this to be where we ended our last case. You, me, Cas, we’re officially retired now.” He looked at Jack. “Son, it’s your turn. You and Amara better keep this world straight. The three of us want to enjoy a long retirement.”

Jack nodded, a bright smile on his face. “We’ll do our best.”

“I know you will,” Dean said as he got up to turn the radio on. He grinned as a familiar song came on.

“Carry on my wayward son,” Jack sang.

“There will be peace when you are done,” Sam continued.

“Lay your weary head to rest,” Cas said as he leaned his head against Dean’s shoulders.

“Don’t you cry no more,” Dean finished softly.

A few minutes later, they decided to head out. Cas and Jack were the first to climb into the car while Dean and Sam stood at the side of the bridge. They stood shoulder to shoulder, looking into the distance. 

“Well Sammy, we did it.”

“It’s Sam and yeah we did. You were wrong, you know.”

“Oh yeah, about what?”

“There was a light at the end of that tunnel.”

Dean smiled. “I guess there was. C’mon, we’ve got a beach to go lounge on.”

Sam looked at his brother. He hadn’t seen Dean so happy or relaxed in a long time. Now, they would both be able to look like that for years to come. The gray that was starting to appear in their hair would become more pronounced and the aches in their bones would get worse but they would be alive. They would get old but they would be happy. They would get a life they never imagined they could have but always secretly wished for. 

“Can I pick the music?”

Dean laughed. “You know the house rules Sammy, driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole!”

“Jerk!”

“Bitch!”

The two brothers stood there laughing for a moment longer. They had lost friends and family over the years, but they had also gained some as well. They had fought and killed every monster the world had to offer them including God and Death their selves. Now, they were finally done and they could lay their weary heads to rest. After fifteen long years, their long journey had come to an end. Woop woop! I managed to do all the prompts for this years Suptober! Thank you @winchester-reload for the awesome prompt list and hosting this wonderful event! You are amazing!