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bl00dgutsgl0ry · 3 years ago

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Rivalry Put To Rest

Pairing - Zhongli x Fem!Reader

Warnings - Arranged marriages (non of that under age like child marriages though fuck that yuck, these are obviously of age adults i just really wanna make that clear jesus), praise kink, modern AU, just lovely soft sex with my favorite man :'^).

Word Count - 2.4k

Other Comments - Dude it’s been so long since ive actually written anything im so sorry. But i couldn't resist writing this. I know i promised xiao but he will come in time. This is a little bit of a slow burn, or at least the sex doesnt start right away lol i want this to be nice and soft. P.s. youre on birth control so dont worry about no condom lol.

You did not like this idea. Why your parents were still forcing you into this was beyond you seeing as how you were a fully grown ass adult. You just couldn’t stomach the disappointment you would be seen as in their eyes. You were the daughter to the CEO of one of the most well known Law Firms in Teyvat. Zhongli was the son of another CEO who controlled your Rival company. Yours's and his parents wanted to finally settle the bad blood between the firms by having the two of you get married. You knew damn well the benefits of doing this was, god forbid if your Fathers firm went underwater, you would still be secure with Zhongli as your husband.

It’s not that you didn’t like Zhongli, and he certainly was not ugly; you just couldn’t stand your freedom to choose who you really wanted to marry being ripped from you. It was non negotiable though, so you had to go through with it. Zhongli didn’t seem to mind at all, he thoroughly enjoyed his very brief moments he had with you before, and was frankly excited to get more of those moments. He just hoped you didn’t resent him or blame him for this.

You both of course had an extravagant wedding, why would you not when your family was one of the wealthiest in Teyvat. You were grateful to your parents for letting you invite a few of your friends, and it seemed Zhongli had done the same. There was almost like a crowd formed around you two at the after party, you talking to your friends, and him with his. Zhongli had offered you his arm to hold onto, but you politely declined, feeling that even just holding his arm was too intimate for you.

“Already trouble in paradise for the two lovebirds?” One of Zhongli’s friends had chuckled, a red head with a stupidly smug smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as you shot a look at him. Your friend Ningguang frowned, turning to look at your now husband.

“Control your dog, Mr. Zhongli.” You let out a chuckle, when you heard Zhongli’s friend scoff.

After a while, it was customary for the newlyweds to go on their honeymoon; so after a couple of hours you had to bid farewell to your friends and family. You approached the jet the two of you would be taking, with Zhongli carrying the luggage not far behind. You went ahead and boarded, while your new husband spoke with the pilot and the crew, sighing to yourself.

“Come on (y/n) suck it up, this honeymoon will be over sooner than you know it.” You mumbled to yourself, settling into the high class jet.

“Did you say something (y/n)?” You jumped, not expecting to hear Zhongli’s voice. “Ah.. My apologies, I did not mean to startle you.” You sighed and shook your head, waiving your hand to dismiss the apology.

“You’re fine Zhongli, I’m just… Nervous is all.” He hummed in response, nodding as he settled himself into the jet.

“I understand (y/n), I really do apologize about this being thrusted into your lap. I know this isn’t the ideal circumstances for a young woman to go through.” You nodded, glad that he understood your hesitance to the situation. Zhongli really wasn’t a bad guy.

“It’s really not your fault Zhongli, I understand you probably had no more say in it than I.” You gave him a reassuring smile, the first genuine smile to grace his line of sight. Without noticing he found himself smiling back, relieved that you didn’t see him with any contempt. A comfortable silence settled, as the jet took off towards your destination.

It wasn’t a long flight, and along the way you were able to make small talk, slowly learning more about Zhongli. After two short hours, you felt the jet jump slightly against the ground before steadying itself on the runway. After a few more moments, you both departed, Zhongli once again handling the luggage, leaving your side to retrieve it.

Before you knew it, you were at the house you would be staying at for your honeymoon. It sat on a beautiful beach side shore, with a large open patio looking out over the ocean. By the time you guys had arrived it was already around 10:00 o’clock at night, so the crescent moon was high in the sky as you both stepped out onto the patio. The moon and stars gleamed against the inky black water, with the rhythmic beating of the waves lulling you both into a comfortable silence. You stood next to your husband and finally for the first time that night, actually took in his face.

The light of the scenery exposed the beauty Zhongli held in his face, the pale light bouncing off his cheekbones and illuminating his golden irises as he looked out over the sea. He must’ve felt you staring because moments later those golden eyes were locked on yours.

“Do you like the scenery (y/n)?” You gave a quick nod before ducking away from his gaze, a red flush rising to your face. You heard him chuckle for a moment before shifting.

“I know what is customary to happen on our honeymoon, and I do not want you to feel pressured to fulfill that part of our relationship.” You flushed even more as you suddenly found the pattern of the wood to be very interesting. You had completely forgot that sex was usually something people did on honeymoons. It seemed normal, because generally the people who get married have had a relationship before this so nothing felt awkward about the topic. Obviously that wasn't the case in this situation, but there was something in you that kind of wanted to. Something in you that felt comfortable enough with him to do it, you already trusted him which shocked you. What if he wasn’t though? What if he was uncomfortable with the thought of having sex with you right now which is why he brought it up so suddenly?

“Thank you Zhongli, you’re too kind. You’ve truly been so understanding through this entire thing.” You looked back up to him finally, and found a gentle smile on his face. He nodded and hummed before turning back to the house.

“We should probably get to bed, it’s already fairly late.” You nodded, pulling out your phone to check the time. You both walked about into the house together. “There is another room down the hall from the master bedroom if you don’t want to sleep in the same bed. It’s smaller so I could always take it.” There he goes, being considerate and kind; handling your thoughts and feelings like glass that would break any second. You remained silent for a moment contemplating on what he had said, before gently shaking your head.

“No, no, it’s fine. I want to share the bed with you.” You smiled up at him, and he looked almost surprised with your willingness, but the shock didn’t last for long before he smiled back at you and nodded; offering you his arm to hold on to, which you shakily took. You both reached the bedroom, where he had placed all of your guy's luggage before letting you go to retrieve your sleeping clothes as he did the same. You went into the bathroom, to give yourself and him some privacy before slowly re-entering. Zhongli was in a pair of brown silk pants with golden accents and a black short sleeve shirt. Your eyes met each other, and Zhongli smiled when he saw you.

“I know that these were unideal circumstances to get married, but I’m happy it is you who is my spouse. I can only hope you think the same of me, and that at some point you can genuinely feel connected to me.” You blushed as he said this, genuinely taken aback by the sincerity in his voice. You feel bad for dreading and almost resenting Zhongli when you were first notified about the engagement, once finding out just how compassionate and caring the man before you was. Slowly, the two of you made your way into the large king sized bed. There was a large gap between the two of you, large enough to comfortably fit another person. Your mind raced a mile a minute trying to decide whether or not you should scoot in a little closer to the man next to you.

And so you did, without taking another moment to think about it you shifted closer to Zhongli until your side gently pressed against his. You felt Zhongli stiffen beside you for a brief moment, and for a split second you regretted scooting in; that was until you felt him roll over onto his side and wrap a strong arm around your torso. You could really take in Zhongli’s scent like this and you noticed that he smelled like amber rum, chestnuts, and a hint of vanilla. It wrapped you in a warmth that lulled you into a comforting silence as the two of you laid together like this.

You rolled onto your side, letting Zhongli’s arm now rest against your waist. Your noses were almost touching as the two of you stared into each other's eyes. You saw his eyes dart down to your lips for the briefest of seconds, letting yourself do the same.

“Zhongli…” Your voice was barely above a whisper. “Can I kiss you?” You saw Zhongli’s eyes widen as his gorgeous eyes met yours, not expecting you to ask him that.

“I would love nothing more… Darling.” You flushed at the mild pet name, before softly placing your lips onto his. It felt as time skidded to a halt, as the two of you moved against each other with the grace of a slow dance. Soon enough it became heated, as you changed positions and straddled his hips. You could feel his boner pressing against you through his pants, and it made warmth bloom in your chest.

“You really want to do this right? You don’t feel pressured my dear?” You smiled at Zhongli’s questions, nodding before he could get another one out. It felt good to be so concerned about, so doted over.

“Yes Zhongli, I really want to do this with you. I trust you.” This time it was Zhongli’s turn to flush, an elegant smile gracing his lips. Before long, the both of you were out of your sleeping clothes and back on top of one another. Your back was to the silken bed sheets, as Zhongli was on top of you lining his hard cock up with your eager pussy. Zhongli gave you one last look before slowly entering you inch by inch. To say he was huge would be an understatement, so he knew he had to take it slow with you so as to not hurt you in any way. Zhongli needed this to be a good experience with you, he would never forgive himself if he hurt you or made this unenjoyable in any way at all.

The noises you were making and the way your hands were clawing at his back reassured him that he was doing everything right so far, always stopping after pushing in a few inches to give you time to adjust. Without thinking, Zhongli's mouth just started moving as words spilled out.

“You’re doing so good for me my angel, you’re taking me so well. You’re too good for me.” With the praise spilling out of Zhongli’s mouth, you couldn’t help but unleash a flurry of loud moans, as he bottomed out. He stood still for a couple moments, making sure you were nice and comfortable, until he felt you trying to move against him; trying to get him to move in and out of you.

“If you were ready for me to move, all you needed to do was ask my gem.” You let out a whine like moan, that evolved into a guttural groan when he finally started to thrust in and out of you. Your nails raked across his skin, surely leaving marks for you to admire after this was all said and done. He wasn’t skipping out on the marks either, as he sucked and bit at your skin, still throwing out praise every time his mouth left your skin. His fingers dug into your hips, as he sped up. He just couldn’t help himself, your wet quivering pussy just felt way too good wrapped around him; sucking him in every time he pulled out.

“I can’t believe it took us getting into an arranged marriage to finally meet, my god where have you been all my life.” Zhongli had begun to groan, obviously getting close to tipping over the edge, with the way his thrusts continued to get sloppier every so often. You moaned in response, too blissed out of your mind to form actual words. Zhongli’s head fell against your shoulder, his ebony black hair hanging off his shoulders.

With a few more strokes, Zhongli had both of you tumbling over the edge and cumming in unison. All that could be heard in your room was the quiet crashing of waves and the combined panting of the both of you. After a few moments of Zhongli getting his breath back he tumbled down next to you, sweaty shoulders touching. A couple seconds of silence passed before you spoke up in a raspy broken voice.

“It took us so long because I’m technically your rival.” You were giggling slightly, when Zhongli let out a loud chuckle.

“I guess you are right my dear, but now we are joined together. And I cannot wait to see what comes of our joining.”

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin zhongli #genshin impact zhongli #zhongli #genshin imagine #genshin impact imagine #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #zhongli imagine #zhongli x reader #zhongli smut

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aliensunflower-fics · 4 years ago

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Marinette The Perfect Daughter In Law: A Prompt

[ I've seen a few ‘everyone loves Marinette AU’s’ and a couple Marvel DC ‘all the mentors want THEIR kid to end up with Marinette AU’s’ and well frankly! I felt inspired! So I present to you my new prompt / AU thing! In which all the most powerful / rich / popular people in Paris decide to play matchmaker… ]

It starts when Adrien and Kagami have a less than AMICABLE break up according to their parents and the media anyway in reality it was a really REALLY dull break up. The pair have been ‘dating’ (using each other as an excuse to go out and experience normal teenage stuff) since they were 15. Now at 17 soon to be 18 the pair decided to publicly break up in order to pursue other people and interests. The problem is they never told their parents the truth so both Gabriel and Kagami’s mother Tomeo feel protective and concerned about what must surely be an upsetting first heartbreak for their child. And okay maybe both parents take that out on each other and both get a bit defensive and protective. And MAYBE it ends with Tomeo vowing to get revenge for her daughter. Enter, Marinette. Up and coming fashion designer for the rich and famous! She’s single, talented, and as far as Tomeo knows Gabriel is interested in the girl for her talent. So what better revenge could exist but having Marinette take an interest in Kagami!

Kagami has no idea why her mother suddenly has an interest in Marinette but she wont complain about having more time with her very cute designer friend. And all the outfits Tomeo is paying Marinette to make for Kagami is giving the young fencer plenty of up-close and personal moments with Marinette. And okay Marinette is VERY cute and Kagami wont question why she suddenly has all this tine with Marinette, eating ice cream with the girl and having brunch. But she knows shes absolutely head over heels when Marinette shows up at her fencing tournament gives her a luck charm and cheers her on wearing HER colors. Obviously Kagami wiped the floor with all the competition she cant be seen hesitating in front of Marinette!

On Tomeo’s side of things she makes sure that the paparazzi still lurking around after Kagami and Adrien’s breakup catch photos of what could easily be interpreted as dates between the girls. After all this is a revenge ploy but also Marinette is fantastic so Tomeo is 300% down with Kagami ‘bringing her into the family’ something she tells Kagami after the first paparazzi ‘date photos’ leak into the news. Kagami still has no idea this was an orchestrated affair and just thinks her mothers caught on to her feelings and is overjoyed that Marinette is approved of because after the cheek kiss Marinette gave her for winning the fencing tournament Kagami was preparing to fight her mother for the right to pursue the young designer seriously. After all she never hesitates!

But Tomeo never realized Gabriel isnt the only one interested in Marinette. Audrey Bourgeouis has been keeping an eye on Marinette trying to find a way to get Marinette on to her side and away from Gabriel. So when she sees the photos of Kagami and Marinette she sees an opportunity. After all if Marinette isnt exclusively into men (and those photos of her flushed cheeks as Kagami cleans ice cream off her bottom lip are a clear indication shes not) then Audrey smells opportunity. After all Marinette was Chloe’s first crush! How cute would that be! The next day Marinette is being offered yet another opportunity to intern under Audrey this time with much looser restrictions. When Marinette accepts she suddenly finds herself working with Chloe… A LOT. The pair are modeling together, often paired together for shoots in perfect complementary clothes that screams ‘opposites attract’. Chloe is also helping manage Marinette’s brand and the two start to get along very well. The model photos and their business lunches are soon plastered alongside the Kagami and Marinette outings with parisian gossip blogs finding their interest picked by this potential love triangle.

Chloe for one, was confused at first. Sure she knew her mom was interested in Marinette but she never thought SHE would be working so closely with her first crush. And Chloe tries to ignore it, after all those are dead feelings! And Marinette woud never forgive her anyway so why even- Wait. Is that Marinette in a downright gorgeous golden dress? A-and she will be posing right next to Chloe for their shared shoot? Well… Chloe always thought herself deserving of royalty and damn if Marinette aint the princess of her dreams. Sorry Adriken’s you had your chance to get the girl, but now its winner keeps all and Marinette is the only prize shes interested in. For the record Alya is freaked out by Chloe being nice, but shes more weirded out by Chloe being protective and handsy and downright shamelessly flirty with Marinette. Audrey is pleased when she hears the news and is quick to give her daughter encouragement acting as if none of this was premeditated at ALL.

Oh but they have no idea that this is just the beginning. Because guess who's moved back into town. Adrien’s favorite cousin and aunty. And Felix’s mom is quite the busybody and dammit Felix needs friends! And maybe a cute girlfriend! And oh whos that pretty girl on the magazine cover? Marinette? The one her celebrity connections have nothing but praise for? Perfect! Shes invited to lunch with Felix and herself on friday to discuss movie costumes! And oh Audrey dear dont you think Marinette would look fabulous sandwiched between TWO blondes! Felix hasnt modeled in a while but come now. So suddenly Marinette is being spotted with Felix guiding him about paris and modeling with him AND Chloe under AUDREY’s brand NOT Gabriels.

Felix thought hed really hate Marinette; he tried to ignore her he really did. But shes funny, witty and sweet. Not to mention trustworthy, so a good candidate for a business partner. And thats it, but then he has to admit hes impressed when he rolls up to a photoshoot and Chloe! The definition of brat personified is acting… Bearable. Yes, somehow Marinette has done the impossible! She has tamed the beast known as Chloe. And yes fine he will admit shes drop dead gorgeous and how intelligent of her to learn all sides of the fashion industry and boost her rep with modelling! Soon hes spending more time with her, he tries to argue he needs a guide, that shes the most bearable person to be with! That she is just a friend- Oh god. No it cant be! He sounds like-! Like ADRIEN! And Chloe already told him about THAT mess! No! Absolutely not! He will not lead on Marinette like his idiot cousin! Marinette is a rare and beautiful woman! She could be his queen! And god he has to admit it much as he loathes too Marinette’s smile is enough to make him thank every non-existent god. He will win her heart, show her that she deserves better than his brain dead cousin! Felix is sure mother will approve of his decision to pursue the girl, now he just needs to do more shoots with Marinette...

And that's what finally gets Gabriel to snap. Because REALLY Felix!? Is there no loyalty to FAMILY. Not to mention he was totally drafting a potential contract for Marinette when Audrey snapped her up the witch! But its fine! Marinette has always been interested in Adrien! Surely she still is? Surely she's not been swayed by any of her new suitors! Right? Gabriel knows he can't mess with Audrey’s contract so he goes through Adrien, freeing up his sons schedule and telling him to spend time with Marinette to help her ‘adapt’ to the harsh world of fashion and modeling. He uses Adrien’s heroic nature to make it sound like hed be saving her from Chloe and Felix. And sure enough Adrien bites, using his friendship with Chloe to worm into fittings, meetings, and photo shoots. At first hes just there to make sure Chloe and Felix arent hurting sweet Marinette. But when he sees the blondes fighting for her attention, flirting with her, posing with her in some rather romantic settings. Suddenly hes less worried and more… Jealous? No! Not him! Hes concerned, confused, suspicious! Obviously he needs to spend more time with Mari- Wait! When did Kagami get here to take Marinette to lunch! And why are they all ignoring him!!!

Now Marinette is fully in the public's eye. Gossip blogs are being fed bits of info writing up each ‘candidates’ appeal as THE romantic partner to the Marinette Dupain-Cheng paris new darling, the girl with a heart of gold too oblivious to see the trail of hearts following her around! But there is still another contender yet to enter the game! Jaggeds been away on tour teaching Luka his up and coming protege all the tricks. And lets not lie Luka has his own fans now, enough to rival all the others. Jagged sees Luka as his own son, even calling him as much! Hell hes even adopted Luka and Juleka and when I say adopted I mean Jagged literally got shared custody of the kids when their real dad tried to start trouble once Luka started gaining fame. Luka and Juleka for one love their adopted father and his wonderful fiance Penny. But back to Jagged, being Jagged.

The moment Jagged is back in Paris he's checking up on his favorite designer and hopefully future daughter in law! When… WHAT'S THIS?! All the other ritchies in Paris are playing his game! Trying to get Marinette married into THEIR families! Not rock and roll at all! He was here first! And so being Jagged he decides to make Luka’s stake in the race for Marinette’s heart clear! By spamming social media with photos of Marinette being cute with Luka, taking his measurements, going out with him, the pair babying Fang, the two passed out against each other after a long concert. And he has photos going back at least a year or two! Soon Luka’s fans pick up the hype starting a trending hashtag finding the pair cute! Jagged feels confident that hes won! When Audrey retaliates, and from there its a complete train wreck. Before long each pair has a hashtag filled with cute moments and arguing over whos dating the model / fashion designer!

Meanwhile Adrien is drowning in denial as he goes through each hashtag seething about how many MORE photos everyone else has with Marinette, when HE is her very good friend and was here first! Felix, Chloe and Kagami on the other hand have declared open war after they tried to talk to each other about the hashtags reasonably only for it to devolve into “so you agree Marinette is best with me!” - “WHAT! No! Thats not what I said! Besides she clearly is best with me!” - “Ridiculous!” And so on. Poor Luka is having an entirely different reaction hiding in shame unsure how to face Marinette because he WAS going to ask her on a proper date now that she seems over Adrien, because even with everything she's the melody playing in his heart and he had a plan! But now his mom and sister are texting him and teasing him and apparently he has MORE competition! Who do these people think they are to deserve Marinette! No! Luka won't lose Jagged has been teaching him to be bold and confident! And Marinette is worth all of his efforts! Jagged REGRETS NOTHING even if Penny confiscated the tv remote!

Marinette meanwhile has no idea what's going on because the whole class made a dumb bet on when the designer would notice with one of the bet conditions being that no one could tip Marinette off and that they have to keep her away from Paparazzi so they dont spoil it either. And sense Alya is helping manage Marinette’s social media Marinette hasn't looked at it yet so she has NO idea what's happening. But her birthday is coming up next week and Chloe definitely didn't get dibs on planning a surprise party for her all so she could spoil the girl and RUB her GREAT relationship with Marinette into her competitions FACES! The competition however (and Adrien JustAfriend Agreste) have decided that they really aren't going down without a fight!

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#my fic #kagaminette #lukanette #adrienette #chlonette #chloenette #miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #everyone loves marinette #kagami tsurugi #adrien agreste #felinette #felix graham de vanily #chloe sugar #chloe bourgeois #ml prompt

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lubdubsworld · 4 years ago

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Madeira. ( Taehyung x OC) Part 1/2

Genre : Angst, Sexually Explicit Content.

Kim Taehyung x OC

Cop Au!

Married Taehyung x Oc! ( Estranged )

Cop Taehyung! Bartender Oc !

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A/N : This is my spin on the brother’s best friend trope. I wrote this for @ladyartemesia Who made the amazing banner for the fic..

Because of one of her posts :D :D But I hope all of you enjoy it.

Also listen , i was supposed to write a simple brother’s best friend fic , maybe playful fluff and mild angst and some smut but this thing snowballed into a plot monster and now here we are.

This is part 1.

Part 2 soon :)

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“So... that husband of yours is still missing, huh?" The man leaning against the bar smelled like sewage.

There really was no other word for it.

He smelled like he’d been drenched in the water that usually ran down the streets, whenever the heavens opened and poured a fucking deluge on us. Like he’d taken a soak in the disgusting broth of decaying produce, discarded animal entrails and everyday garbage. You know, the kind of stuff you find in the market street of a small town.

I ignored him, exhaling sharply and dragging the rag across the counter again, this time with a little more force behind it to make up for the urge to wrap my hands around the fucker’s neck.

Not the man leaning on the bar that is.

The man who had abandoned me.

Kim fucking Taehyung.

My breath shuddered out of me , a headache blooming inside my skull at the very thought of him. it was kind of unwarranted, I guess because it really wasn’t perfect Kim Taehyung’s fault that his wife of five years and seven months hadn’t seen him in ...well, five years and six months.

Fuck.

But see he wasn’t missing from my life by design.

He certainly hadn’t intended to leave me alone because , well for one, he loved me. and two, his best friend aka my big brother Park Jimin would skin him alive if he tried something like that.

They were best friends, bosom buddies since kinder garten and the only time they’d ever fought was when Jimin had walked in on me choking on Kim Taehyung’s dick in our coat closet at the age of seventeen ( 19 in Taehyung’s case) .

Taehyung had sported a black eye for two whole weeks.

So you see, Taehyung wouldn’t just leave me without reason, not unless he wanted to be castrated by my brother.

No.

The reason Kim Taehyung wasn’t around was because he had taken up an assignment, an undercover assignment a month after our wedding.

An assignment that was supposed to last two months. Except it hadn’t and now, it had been a whole five and a half years since I’d seen the man I loved.

Kim fucking Taehyung.

See, Taehyung was a detective.

A brilliant, A- class detective in Seoul PD’s Narcotics Division and he had a reputation.

A reputation as one of the most ruthless, merciless men on the force.

Taehyung had a mind that worked like no other, somehow able to predict exactly how drug dealers moved, how the shipments were going to be smuggled. He could tell where the deal was going to go down, what kind of security measures they would be up against and the most intriguing of all : just what drug a person had taken, simply from staring into their damn eyes .

It wasn’t uncommon for his cop buddies to comment how lucky the country was, that Kim Taehyung had chosen to be on this side of the law .

So Kim Taehyung’s reputation as a brilliant detective was well earned and that was why, when people heard his reputation and then met him, they were always stunned.

Because, for someone with such a terrifying aura , Taehyung looked deceptively.....well ethereal was the word. Beautiful was another. So fucking gorgeous he could make angels cry.

But Taehyung didn’t just look like a fucking angel. He acted like one. He acted like he had been sent on earth, simply to fight every bad guy in the city and while I had been proud and amazed and suitably enthralled with his prowess in the beginning, the fact that he had chosen to just leave me , really fucking hurt.

It hurt that the boy i had grown up with , the boy who had been my first everything hadn’t thought twice about leaving me behind. About leaving everything we had spent a whole decade building , behind just because he couldn’t control the urge to save the fucking world.

Every damn time.

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The water in my parents’ home was often murky and I had to let it run for a few minutes, before sticking the bucket underneath the tap. I watched the water turn clearer, cupping my palms underneath the flow watching it run clear. I nudged the bucket with my foot , under the tap and the sound of the water hitting the cheap plastic filled the cramped bathroom, loud and jarring.

I leaned against the chipped blue tiles, fingers shaking as I clenched them into fists. I had moved year about nine months after Taehyung had left, when it became clear that he wasn’t going to be coming back anytime soon and it became hard, paying the rent for our modest apartment in Itaewon.

Jimin had offered to help, offered to let me move in with him and his wife Irene, but he had been newly married as well, with a baby on the way. And i just couldn’t do that to him. I’d called my parents, explained that Taehyung and I were taking a break and could I move in for a while?

My parents had been stunned.

A break after ten months of marriage? what had happened?

I’d kept my mouth shut because everything was a security risk. I couldn’t say anything. Couldn’t cry or complain or seek comfort in my mother’s gentle words. Instead i’d spent the days, locked up in my childhood bedroom, pouring over my journals, my keepsakes and photos, reliving the years I’d spent, loving and learning and cherishing Taehyung.

First kiss in his garage at the age of fifteen , laughing over a failed skateboard trick. How he’d grinned at me, watching me whine over the scrape on my knee, how he’d stared up at me through the sweat damp bangs on his forehead as he’d knelt on the floor, sticking a bandaid over the scrape and then instead of moving away as usual, he mad moved in, brushed his lips against mine, stole the breath out of my lung , the soul out of my body .

And Those first two years of denial....when he would practically run out of the door if i so much as breathed in his direction.

“You’re Jimin’s sister.. I can’t...”

God often he’d said that...over and over again until the words lost all meaning for me. I had wanted him so blindly. Had fought any girl who so much as looked at him and every one of my girlfriends knew to stay clear off Kim Taehyung.

The whispers, anytime someone showed an interest on the most handsome boy in school.

Yes, he is gorgeous, yes he is smart and amazing but he belongs to her. She’ll kill you if you come near him.

I’d enjoyed it. I enjoyed knowing that everyone could see that he belonged with me, even if Taehyung himself didn’t .

And me at seventeen, watching him talk about leaving .... How he was going to join the police academy and become a cop and that had been the final straw. I’d all but barrelled into his home and kissed him.

Told him in no uncertain terms that he was not going anywhere without telling me he loved me. And if he didn’t , I wanted him to swear he would never regret it. That when , years from now, he saw me walking down the aisle with some other guy, he would stand in the wedding party, next to my actual brother and not regret that he let me go.

Taehyung had kissed me back with fervor that still made my lips tingle.

And that last week before he left, when we had spent all our waking hours, either having sex or thinking about having sex. How we’d christened every surface of our parents’ house , our rooms and finally the coat closet after one particularly tense game of truth and dare.

That was a memorable one because my brother had walked in, just as Taehyung had gripped my hair hard enough to bruise and shoved his ‘ big by any standards’ dick straight down my throat.

Talk about embarrassing.

And it had taken a whole lot of begging and cajoling and promises to not have sex till we were married, for my brother to come around.

But he had.

And for five glorious years, I had been Kim Taehyung’s girlfriend. Watched him climb the ranks at seoul PD with a speed that was amazing. Watching him become the youngest detective on the force... watched him carve a reputation for himself in the Narcotic department.

And one evening, having dinner in a posh restaurant with our family and friends, I had watched him get down on his knees , a small velvet box in his hand eyes practically sparkling with love as he stared at me.

“The only one you’re walking down the aisle with is me, sweetheart.” He had rasped, over the raucous cheering of all the most important people in our lives.

But the joy had been short lived.

Just a month after our wedding Taehyung had taken up the assignment. Just two months, he had promised. I’ll be back in two months baby. I love you so damn much, you know that....

I had said it was okay. it wasn’t but i had said. Had promised to wait for him. To keep myself safe.

Two months had turned to two years. Two years had turned to three. Three to four and four to five.

Lonely. I was so lonely.

Even living with my parents, the solitude had been unbearable. The ache from not being touched by him . The ache from not being able to touch him. From not having that boxy smile to greet me in the morning. Not running my fingers through his hair as he left hickeys all over me. Not having him over me, staring down at me, eyes heavy and hard as he fucked into me.

I missed him so fiercely it was a physical ache. An intense , hollow ache filled with anxiety and longing.

And terror.

Oh god I was so terrified.

The fear was all encompassing somedays and I had to bite down on my pillows just to stop myself from giving in to hysteria. To start sobbing, uncontrollably because the thought would come out of nowhere, bowling me over in it’s intensity.

The burning fear that perhaps he was hurt.

That perhaps he was no longer of this world and i would never even know. That perhaps right this moment he was lying in some abandoned warehouse, bleeding out , thinking of me, wishing he could see me and he was just going to die alone . And I would never know.

I spoke to Jimin on the phone to Jimin every weekend. But sometimes, once every three or four weeks, Jimin called in the day.

We would exchange small talk.

And then he would say,

“Had a glass of madeira last night.” “ spoke to Taehyung’s handler last night.

I would grip the phone hard, brace myself for the good , the bad or the ugly that was to come.

“Tasted great. Was thinking of you.” He’s fine. He misses you. He loves you.

“Okay. Thank you Jimin.”

And that was that.

The sound of the water spilling over drew me to the present and i blinked, staring down at the water flooding the bathroom, the drainhole struggling to get rid of the excess water.

The house was deserted.

My parents had died a year ago. And now it was just me.

I swallowed , shaking my head before grabbing the hem of my dress and stripping.

Shower.

And then bed.

Alone.

Always so fucking alone.

The phone rang then and i groaned.

God, I hated having to leave the shower to attend calls but the reception here was terrible and I could only get calls if I left the phone on the small table by the bed.

Grabbing a towel and wrapping it around my torso, I stumbled out into the dimply lit bedroom, reaching for my phone.

I couldn’t recognize the number and I frowned, before accepting the call.

“Hello?”

“Yerin?”

Every hair on my body stood on end and my body curned hot and then went icy cold really really fast.

“T-T-Tae??” I whispered, gripping the phone so hard my fingers went number.

Five years later and his voice was so different. Deep and raspy and exhausted and I couldn’t make sense of it. Was this real? Was i having a fever dream? Had i fell in the shower and hit my head?

“Hey baby.” He chuckled.

“Is this real? Is it you?” I whispered, confused and my head spinning and my vision fading a little.

“Yeah. “ He coughed a bit and i panicked. “ I’m back. “

I froze.

“Wh-What?”

“I’m back. I’m home. I’m .... I’m back.”

I stared at the wall, too stunned to process what I was hearing.

I could hear his voice through the phone but I couldn’t respond.

Staring at the screen , I hung up.

And then, I finally gave in to the hysterics.

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

#taehyung fics #taehyung smut #taehyung fanfics #bts smut #ts fanfic #bts fics

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jaskierswolf · 4 years ago

Text

Fuck Indeed - 1 of 4

Rating: E

Chapter WC: 2720

Summary: Jaskier scrolled through the terms and conditions of the website he was planning on selling his soul to. It seemed simple enough, and he really needed the money. His music career hadn’t exactly gotten off to a flying start and he was tired of sponging off his friends and they were, quite frankly, tired of him. He wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be allowed to sofa surf and he really needed his own space.

So, he was starting an OnlyFans account. - On AO3

CW (for whole story): 18+ only, anal sex, masturbation, exhibition kink, sex work, rimming, sex toys, talks of blow jobs, Geralt bottoms but it’s mentioned they switch, biting (but no blood), Jaskier wearing lingerie and makeup.

Jaskier scrolled through the terms and conditions of the website he was planning on selling his soul to. It seemed simple enough, and he really needed the money. His music career hadn’t exactly gotten off to a flying start and he was tired of sponging off his friends and they were, quite frankly, tired of him. He wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be allowed to sofa surf and he really needed his own space.

So, he was starting an OnlyFans account.

The only thing he was good at outside of his music and poetry was sex. So why not make some money off of it. He’d already done a shit ton of research on stats, marketing, and the types of audiences he was looking to attract… and yes that potentially meant that he’d spent more money than he could afford on subscriptions to porn but, well, it was an investment.

He was going to be good at this, nay, he was going to be fucking brilliant; pun intended.

He smirked as he clicked to register his account.

Phase one complete.

Phase two… commencing.

He quickly adjusted his photograph to the incredibly alluring photo he’d picked out. Essi had helped him stage a photoshoot after he’d promised to only film his videos when he was staying with Priscilla or Valdo. The photo showed him sitting backwards on a chair, stockings pulled up to his thighs and attached by turquoise lace garters. He was wearing a gorgeous matching lingerie set that was barely visible from behind the chair, a tease for the sort of content he would be putting out. He was also wearing a pair of killer heels.

Heels he absolutely couldn’t walk in yet, but they’d been so pretty and he’d always wanted to learn so he’d bought them on a whim, again more money that he didn’t have…. thank fuck for credit cards.

He wasn’t looking at the camera, his fringe covering his eyes, but he was clearly laughing at something, blood red lipstick staining his lips.

He was rather impressed with how it had turned out.

Now he just needed to get up some content. He glanced at the clock, he had probably missed the best time to post a video today, but he had a few photos from his shoot with Essi. He flicked through his camera roll until he found his second favourite, one where he was looking up just past the camera, eyes catching the light perfectly so they shone a sparkling bright blue.

Not to be narcissistic, but he looked fucking gorgeous.

He grinned and typed out a teasing caption to introduce himself, then hit post. Afterwards, he locked his phone and threw it across the room, not wanting to think about the comments and reactions.

He stared at it as it bounced on the mattress.

The only sounds were his breath and his heartbeat in his ears.

“Bollocks,” he muttered after what felt like a lifetime, and scrambled after his phone, unlocking it quickly with a few nimble taps of his finger.

If he spent the next two hours refreshing his page to see what people thought then… well, no one needed to know. It wasn’t an instant hit, but he was new and it was expected, and he was thrilled at the couple of messages he received and he already had a couple of subscribers.

He could do this, the fluttering anxiety in his stomach beginning to settle slightly as he repeated the words aloud a few times. He sighed heavily and decided to be productive. He still needed to set up his Twitter page and link it, perhaps an Instagram account as well, one that his parents didn’t have to know about, and fuck he needed to sleep.

His clock, glowing in the now dark of his room, was telling him more time had passed than he’d realised.

“Fuck,” he groaned.

He still needed to get to the studio early this morning. He’d practically begged the owner to let him record a demo, promising that it would be worth it, that he was good. Luckily for him, there had been a short break very early in the morning before any decent musician worth a damn was awake. He plugged his phone in to charge and made sure he put it down out of reach from the bed. He’d just wake up in the middle of the night and check it otherwise. He just needed to know he wasn’t terrible, was that really so bad?

“Come on, Jask,” he mumbled “you can check after you record your demo. It’s not that long.”

It felt like fucking forever.

Geralt was busy working at the garage when Yennefer messaged him. He huffed and pocketed his phone, giving his customer an apologetic hum before gesturing for them to continue. Yennefer hadn’t started the text with “Ciri!” so he could ignore it for now, that was their deal. He’d only check his texts from Yennefer at work if there was a problem with their daughter, but that never stopped her from trying. Yennefer got bored easily at work. Her mind was too brilliant and even working in a top law firm wasn’t enough to keep her mind from wondering, the monotony of paperwork getting the better of her.

It didn’t help that she had assistants to take care of the worst shit for her. Geralt wasn’t exactly sure what Yennefer did all day. He was pretty sure she just organised her minions and planned to take over the world, in between bothering him at work, of course.

He shook his head with a fond smile, as he watched the young blonde leave her precious Volkswagen Beetle behind. It was an old banged up thing, and she’d clearly bought it for the looks rather than practicality, and the engine had given out after only a month of her buying it.

“Kids,” he scoffed.

Business was business though, it brought in sorely needed cash.

Not as much as his other job… but that was a more lucrative role, one that only Yennefer knew about. He was careful to keep his face hidden, but so far he’d been lucky. No one else in his physical life knew about his OnlyFans account, probably because he was still just starting out. He’d only been at it a couple of months and he was, admittedly, not the best at having an online presence, which was why he’d begrudgingly asked Yennefer for her help.

- New kid on the block, he’s just your type.

Yennefer’s message read, blunt as ever. He rolled his eyes and clicked the link. Sure enough there was a photograph of a young brunet straddling a chair, wearing fucking lingerie. He swallowed, staring at the photograph just a little too long.

He growled and stuffed his phone back in his pocket. He should have known better than to open the link at work.

But that smile haunted him for the rest of the day, making every second drag, the world turning to a haze and every movement felt like he was wading through mud. He wanted to get home.

He wanted to know more about this Dandelion.

“Fuck,” he groaned, pressing his fingers to his forehead, hoping it would push the thoughts of the man from his mind.

It didn’t.

By the time he got back to his house he felt like he was on fire, his skin crawling, restless, burning. He showered as quickly as he could, just about managing to wash all the conditioner from his hair before stalking back to his room and firing up his laptop. He groaned as he finally had a chance to stalk Dandelion’s page.

The second photograph was even better than the first, bright blue eyes searing into his mind, and the smile of a fucking angel. He looked young, mid-twenties, only a few years younger than Geralt probably, and he was exactly the sort of man he would do well on this goddamn site. He looked charismatic, easy on the eye, definitely flirty judging by the cheeky grin on his face, and he was probably excellent at the marketing side of things.

Geralt glanced at his subscribers and cursed. Dandelion hadn’t even uploaded a video yet but his follower count was crawling up faster than Geralt’s ever had.

And that made him… angry?

Jealous perhaps, but there was a bitterness growing in his heart now.

He had to do better. He couldn’t allow this man to overtake him. He just couldn’t.

He growled and shut his laptop with a snap, pulling out his phone with more force than necessary. Yennefer would know what to do. She was good at this sort of thing. He just hoped that he didn’t need to explain himself. It was pathetic and irrational but… he wanted to win.

Jaskier stumbled upon the White Wolf’s page purely by accident. He’d been looking for inspiration before filming his first video. He knew what he wanted to film but he was tired and wasn’t really sure he was in the mood for it, so he began to scroll. He’d unsubscribed from a lot of accounts to save money but the silver-haired Adonis had caught his attention.

The leather strapped around his otherwise bare torso helped. Jaskier was weak for a man in leather.

Before he knew what he was doing, Jaskier was putting in his details to subscribe, sending off a silent apology to his bank account.

The White Wolf was the silent brooding type, never quite revealing his face, but that wasn’t uncommon. His long hair fell down past the man’s pecs, curling at the ends just above the black leather straps. Chest hairs trailed down the man’s torso, the photo cropped before revealing anything else. Jaskier let out a low whimper at the thought of what might be revealed.

He groaned and scrambled for his bottle of lube before letting out a curse.

He had a video to shoot.

He didn’t have time to jerk off to this god’s account. He grumbled and got changed into the turquoise lingerie from the photoshoot. He had decided to use the photos as a teaser for his first video, creating some continuity and helping to create a brand that he could build on. He hummed happily as he pulled up the stockings, they felt soft against his skin, bringing a fragility to his otherwise muscular frame.

Not quite as muscular as Wolf’s.

What wouldn’t he give to lick the lines of those abs?

Once he was dressed, he pulled out his makeup bag. He wasn’t quite as skilled with eyeliner as Essi yet so he settle for a smudged black look before adding the red to his lips. He gave himself a once over in the mirror, flashing a smile. It wasn’t perfect but it was only his first video. He’d get more practice as he worked. After one final check of the lighting in his room – well, his temporary room thanks to darling Priscilla – he made sure he had lube nearby. With shaking hands, he set up the camera and clicked record. He would edit both the start and the end of the video later.

He sighed and then let a seductive smile grace his lips as he winked at the camera, kneeling on the bed.

“Hello darling,” he purred in a low voice “I am so happy you could join me.”

He pictured the chiseled torso of his Wolf, mind filling in the blanks of his face, square jaw, soft warm brown eyes, perhaps stubble on his cheek. He felt the warmth of arousal pool in his core at that thought, his cock filling out in the lacy underwear. Definitely stubble then. He wanted to feel the scratch against his cheek, his neck… his arse.

His fingers had drifted down his chest and were toying with the hem of his panties without him even realising it. His eyes fluttered open as he remembered his audience.

“Oops,” he breathed “forgot where I was for a moment there, sweetheart. You don’t mind, do you?”

He paused.

It felt right.

God, he had no idea that he was doing, but the idea of people on the other end of that camera, watching him. Fuck, he hadn’t known he’d be into that. He palmed himself through the thin fabric, letting out a slightly exaggerated moan so the camera would pick it up.

He wondered if Wolf would see this, would he get hard watching Jaskier touching himself… would he touch his own cock?

Jaskier’s breath hitched and he bit his lip. He locked eyes with the camera as he let out a sigh. “I’ve just been feeling so lonely, it won’t take much tonight, just the thought of you.”

The words felt awkward, stunted but it was only his first video and blood was flowing away from his brain right now, making improv difficult. He’d need a script for next time.

“It’s my first video so I wanted to get dressed up, do you like it?” a pause “It feels so soft against my skin.”

His other hand reached up to stroke his nipples through the lace. He tilted his head back and rolled his hips forward to his cock brushed against his own hand, another moan escaping his lips, playing it up for the camera. “Shall I keep them on?” he asked the camera, voice huskier than he was expecting. Fuck this was affecting him more than he imagined.

He swallowed, and licked his lips, fingers pulling down his panties to reveal the tip of his cock already leaking onto the brightly coloured lace. “I might ruin them… but I think you’d like that…”

Would Wolf like that… watching Jaskier cum all over the pretty panties.

Jaskier whined, smearing the precum over his hand and then down the length of his cock under the lace. The touch sent waves of pleasure through his whole body, and he let out a low curse. His eyes fell shut as he slowly stroked himself, taking his time, teasing himself. He pictured his Wolf pulling the straps of his bra down off his shoulders, pressing kisses into his neck, biting on his shoulders as he touched him. God he really needed to watch his videos, if he could pull such vivid images of the man from just one photograph.

“Fuck, that feels so good…” he gasped, struggling to keep his movements slow. He forced his eyes open to look at the camera. He could only imagine how he looked right now, eyes dark, cheeks flushed, lips red from where he’d been biting them, one hand working on his cock, the other pinching at his nipples through sinfully see-through fabric.

“I want you to touch me so bad,” he gasped “would you fuck me, if I ask?”

He swallowed, imagining Wolf’s hands on his hips, pressing bruises into his skin… spreading his cheeks apart… fingers dripping with lube, ready to stretch him. He bit his lip again, almost hard enough to draw blood. He hadn’t noticed he was fucking into his own hand, thighs burning as he knelt on the fresh silk sheets. He was close, too close… not what he’d meant for this video but it was too late now… he couldn’t hold back.

He gripped his cock harder, stroking faster, the underwear pushed down by his efforts.

“I. I can’t…” he stammered through the haze “I need, please…”

He almost sobbed, begging his unseen audience. “Please.”

He pinched roughly on his nipple, the sharp pain tipping him over the edge, and he came all over his hand with a wordless cry.

He struggled not to collapse onto the bed, but he did rest back on his ankles as he gasped for breath. “Fuck,” he whispered hoarsely… surprised by the intensity of his orgasm. He glanced up at the camera with a smirk, flicking his tongue out to lick his lips. “Until next time, darling.”

He winked at the camera and then crawled forward so he could turn it off. Once that was done, he fell back on the bed with a contented sigh before remembering the state of his pants. He grimaced and reluctantly got up to go shower, the thought of the White Wolf still lingering in his mind.

________

Taglist (18+): @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @slythnerd @hailhailsatan @thecomfortofoldstorries @gelos @moonysourenza @frances-the-red @honeysuckletook @elliestormfound @sleepy-thief @artistsfuneral @kittynannygaming @stinastar @fontegagrilledcheese @baka-yu @anythinggoesfandoms @veritasrose @trickstermoose67 @nonegenderleftpain @kueble @justjess94 @kozkaboi @wherethewordsare Let me know if you want to be added for this story or in general!

#the witcher #geraskier #onlyfans au #enemies to lovers #geralt of rivia #Jaskier #geralt/jaskier #unrequited enemies #wolfie's witcher writing

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writersarchivex · 4 years ago

Text

New Job- One Shot

a/n: basically y/n just got a new job, and before her first day she goes out to celebrate with some friends. she meets harry at the bar. things happen. b o o m.

warnings: angst, adult language, drinking, mentions of sex.

!theres no smut in this guys . give me a break this is my first time posting on tumblr!

words: 1.6k

After months of looking and years of hard work at college, Y/N finally got the call. She had gotten her dream job at a law firm, which might not sound like much but it very much so is. All her life this had been just what her dad wanted for her, to grow up and become a powerful lawyer and strong young woman.

So that’s what she did. She worked her ass off, never attending parties and never straying far from the lines. Pretty much everything she did was to please the memory of her beloved father.

Tonight though, was a change of pace for Y/N. A group of her friends invited her to the local bar, after finding out about her new found job.

“Come on Y/N. One drink. Live a little before you jump into that great job of yours.” Mia said into the phone.

Y/N sighed and looked around at her apartment. She didn’t really have any plans for the night, and there wasn’t any harm in having one drink with her friends. I mean, how often do you get to celebrate things like this right?

“Fine, Mia. Just one drink. No funny business though, I really can’t go in tomorrow with a hang over.” Y/N smiled.

One drink very quickly became two, and two became four. Y/N was very drunk. The room was a bit blurry, but she was certainly sober to know she’d had enough.

Mia and the group were having a blast, and of course she was as well. This type of thing was never Y/N’s scene. She was more of the ‘stay inside with a blanket and a book’ kind of girl.

She kind of hated nights like this. The smell and taste of alcohol overpowering her senses, drunk sweaty people dancing around, and a black dress that was all too short and uncomfortable.

After looking at her friends a while more, she had decided she was done. It’s way past time to call it a night.

She gave a smile to know one in particular, and turned to get her wallet.

She did not expect though, to be met with very pretty eyes and the most gorgeous hair she has probably seen on a man, or any human being for that matter.

“Can I buy you a drink, love?” The man asked, eyeing her carefully up and down.

His voice was dripping with attractiveness, and a beautiful english accent.

“Uhm, I really should be going. Thank you though,” She did her best to be polite.

Although the man looked like a literal gift from God, she really needed to get home.

She missed her pajamas. And her cat.

“Come on, just one. If you really wanna go after that, I’ll call you an uber.” He smiled.

Okay, by now Y/N was very sure she was dreaming. No man that sexy can possibly be that kind. Nope.

She looked at him carefully, like he did to her just moments ago. He was quite tall compared to her, and he was wearing a very nice suit, that fit him perfectly. A businessman maybe?

The man continued to patiently wait, until she gave her answer.

“Okay fine one drink, can I at least have your name?” She smiled at the curly headed man.

He clapped his hands together softly, and let out a chuckle.

“I’m Harry.”

——————————————————————————

Y/N felt the warmth of the sun on her as she slowly sat up in her bed. The memories of last night still a mystery in her mind.

All she knew is that, somehow she was not late for work.

And there was someone in her bed.

A man was laying next to her, facing the opposite direction. From what she could see, he was hot. He certainly had a very nice back.

“I’m Harry.”

Memories from the night prior flooded her mind. She began to slightly panic. She’s never experienced anything like this before, and she didn’t quite know what to do with the man in the bed next to her.

He was fast asleep, and right now she wishes she were dead. Out of all the stupid things she's ever done, this seems to take the cake.

Trying her best not to wake the man, Y/N made her way quietly out of her room. I mean, she could just get ready for work? Let him wake up on his own?

With the few times that she had gotten drunk in the past, she's never really had a hang over. Call it good karma, or maybe just luck.

She examined her self in the mirror, noticing the hickeys that littered her pale chest.

"Jesus. Couldn't he have aimed a little lower there Harry." She grimaced, turning away from the mirror.

Although she felt a little stupid and embarrassed, she didn't really regret sleeping with the man in her bed.

He seemed mature, which is always nice in situations like this. Not to mention he was mind numbingly attractive.

—

Soon after her shower was finished and she had gotten ready for work, she stepped out of the bathroom trying her best to prepare to wake the man up.

It took every bone in her body not to just let him stay there until he deemed fit to leave, but she figured that wouldn't be the best of ideas. She walked down the small hallway and quickly noticed the smell of coffee surrounding the apartment.

Walking into the kitchen, the man was stood in just his boxers, patiently waiting for the coffee to brew.

Standing there she decided to indulge herself a bit. She never really gets the pleasure of housing someone like this in her apartment, so she figures it wouldn't hurt to admire a bit.

"The mugs are in the top cabinet." She was a bit surprised by how weak her voice was, considering how confident she was last night.

He turned quickly and gave her a quick smile. He seemed a bit wrecked, which was a given under the circumstances.

"Hangover?" She asked, slowly making her way to the medicine cabinet.

He nodded and sat with his cup of black coffee, placing his hands around his head.

"Yes. You seem perfectly fine though. Is it bad that i kind of wish you were hungover too?" He laughed a bit, but quickly grimaced at the sound of his own voice.

What he said made her giggle a bit, before she handed him a few ibuprofen.

He mumbled a quick thank you and finished his cup of coffee.

He stood, placing his hand on either side of the counter where Y/N sat.

Suddenly, she felt like she was in junior high all over again. Y/N felt her cheeks go hot and it felt like every sign of breath had vacated her lungs.

"Hangover or not. From what i can remember, last night was great." He said in a slight whisper.

He was close enough now, that Y/N could feel his breath on my neck. It sent shivers down her spine and she could've swarm she would die right on the spot.

He placed his lips on hers gently, and boy she could've sworn she felt sparks. Her whole face was on fire at this point. No man, or woman, has ever had quite this effect on her.

"I wish I could stay love, but I have to head in to work in about an hour." He said, tracing circles on the side of her arm.

She smiled and looked at the clock, she still had about thirty minutes before she had to get to the firm, and living pretty close surely helped her situation.

"It's okay you can go. It was nice- meeting you Harry."

He gave her one last kiss on the lips before returning to the room to get dressed.

—

Y/N was actually quite sad that he had left. She wishes he could've stayed longer, but she wasn't going to be that girl.

It was a one night stand, and nothing more.

She sighed and looked up at the polished building. Her cup of coffee had gone a bit cold, but she drank it nonetheless.

She checked her watch quickly, and decided it would be best just to go ahead in.

Y/N was very nervous. She worked hard and earned her position, but she was still a bit worried about how her arrival would be taken.

She was a nice girl, and she hoped that people would treat her the same.

She got a few looks as she walked in, but most everyone continued on with their business as if she was just another intern. That she was though.

"Y/N hey!" She stopped in her tracks as her close friend Liam flagged her down.

He stopped in front of her and began to give her the run down of the building.

"Here's everything you need, badge, ID card, and I wrote down the pin numbers to the break room doors. Oh and you have a quick meeting with the boss in about five minutes. He's running late, so you can just go wait in his office." Liam panted.

I was a bit overwhelmed with all the information he gave me, but I did my best not to show my nervousness.

"Okay. I'm going to head there now. Wish me luck okay?" She grinned at the man.

He gave her a quick hug, and then hurriedly made his way over to his office.

———

The bosses office was quite bare. She'd never seen or met this man. Y/N was hired by the head of the department she'd be working in. This man that she was meeting with was the head of the whole damn building.

Kind of intimidating, but it's nothing she can't handle.

After waiting for about fifteen minutes, the door opened and closed quickly.

"I apologize for my lateness, Miss Y/L/N. I was stuck in morning traffic." A familiar voice rang out.

She grimaced and turned around slowly to face the man.

Her boss.

"Harry?"

#harry styles #solo harry #harry styles fanfiction #fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff

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carlosxhook · 4 years ago

Text

The Law Of Total Madness ~ H.H

Pairing: Harry Hook x Reader (yes I wrote Got7 into this sue me) + (please don’t I’m broke 🤦‍♀️)

Y/N’s P.O.V

Being Chad Charming’s twin sister was an interesting occurrence, Ben being your best friend for your whole life and growing up around Chad expectation of the perfect sister was exhausting this was where you found your love for singing and dancing thanks to Ben. He also introduced you to your other best friend prince Yugyeom originally from Jypnation and 6 other his friends who made music together the 8 of you were always glued together, you stuck together and turns out it was good for you to get away from Chad he may of been your brother and yes you loved him but god was he unbearable! Even better the 8 of you talk in korean to confuse anyone trying to ease drop Princess love to be some nosey bitches, you were a hip hop dancing, princess role breaking rebellious free soul and Chad HATED that. Perhaps the icing on the cake was that you were secretly dating a Scottish pirate, the only son of Captain Hook, the love of your life Harry Hook. It happened when you and Ben were kidnapped with Ben after convincing him you should go with him for “protection” when really you just wanted to wag chemistry class they kept you and Ben seperate and you and Harry ended up in a long make out session about 15 minutes before the most epic battle you’d ever witnessed, Ben announced that after 6 months since Dizzy, The Twins and Celia came to auradon that 3 more vks would be coming over! Hoping it would be Harry, Uma and Gil you talked to Gil while ‘kidnapped’ you two were close it was nice he seemed genuinely like a good guy, it was nice that he’s loyal to his crew and today was the day they were to arrive. Ben, Chad, Mal, Carlos, Jay, Evie, Doug and I were all gathered around waiting for them to show them around and such, the limo pulls up and all three vks get out my chest gets tight thinking about seeing him again yeah we starting “being a thing” very quickly but I liked him a lot I knew that much “Welcome to Auradon” Ben smiles “Try not to break anything” Chad snarls and I smack him over the head earning a deep chuckle from Harry as he smirks at me “it’s very colourful here” Gil smiles he’s too pure omg “well I would love too stay and help but I promised NaNa I’d be at practice 10 minutes ago, it was lovely too see you all again.” I wave before running off towards the school dance hall and quickly issuing magic to get changed into a red crop top and some high waisted black shorts with black converse, damn I was too cute for my own good sometimes, poor Chad never got any magic my parents had me enchanted when I was little so I could protect myself.

Harry’s P.O.V

“I apologise for Princess Y/N’s departure she’s preparing for a very important event and competition as a representative for Auradon, if any of you need her she’s typically in the dance hall!” Ben hints looking towards me it’s not like her and I were seriously anyways, yeah I liked her, a lot but I’d barely say I thought about her. That’s a lie everyday that stupidly gorgeous girl plagued my mind and she just runs off before I can have her in my arms again, how selfish? Does she even still care about me, about us, we had a connection fuck I knew feelings and l..l...lov that l word made you weak, how pathetic I thought I had a happily ever after.

We go through the entire of auadorn and finally reach the Dance Hall we hear loud music coming from within and I peek in seeing Y/N practicing “let’s watch!” Ben opens the door and we stand at the back my eyes fixated on the gorgeous girl dancing her heart out, “she’s gonna win” Chad laughs at Gils proud statement “please who does she think she is this isn’t the isle she should be in a castle or locked in a tower” Chad snorts “I’m sorry say that again Princey” I growl “cool it” I hear Uma whisper “you wanna get found out huh” she follows. “He’s an ass” I mutter focusing back on the events in front of me Y/N walking towards us with a big smile “what did you think?” She asks as her sparkling eyes meet mine before Chad can even open his mouth I reply “Ye did very good indeed” winking at the now blushing princess “anyways” she chirps “we need 3 more female dancers to back up Yugyeom and I’s duo for the competition, because as much as I’d love too see Jackson, Mark and BamBam in skirts with wigs and heels... I don’t wanna frighten the audience” she giggles looking behind her at the 7 boys now making their way over once they reach us the throw Y/N a questioning look before speaking in what I can only assume in another fucking language.

Y/N’s P.O.V

I would be lying if I said I didn’t miss Harry I did and as much as I wanted to run into his arms and breathe in his scent and glory I know I can’t, I lean over to Uma to get closer to Harry “Hey Uma, I don’t know if ben told you but we are sharing a room, I’m barely ever in my dorm so don’t worry I won’t bother you!” I smile and she just scoffs she’s not the biggest fan of me I mean she did kidnap Ben and I after all, I couldn’t blame her though the Isle was shocking I would wanna get out too I am kinda thankful cause of it I found Harry. That was if he still even liked me, I heard from Mal he’s a player and no good that he flirted with anything that moved I mean one of the old exchange students Nana did that too, and he was harmless I was just hoping Harry’s flirting was too.

“Yugyeom, can we finish I wanna show em to the dorms?” I smile to the fluffy haired boy sweat dripping down his white shirt making it slightly see through “only this once ya, usually I’m the one to try cut practice shorty” he laughs “sweet, don’t forget we go all day tomorrow with the boys!” I point to our 6 other friends and wave shooting them a wink before turning around seeing everyone but the pirates had left “well I’ll shall show you to your rooms I guess” I lead the way to the dorms it’s a bit awkward and the silence burns.

“So Y/N” Gil cuts the air “what’s this competition?” He smiles coming and placing an arm around me I hear Harry growl but I just let Gil rest his arm on me “well it’s a multi-kingdom performance competition, we must sing and dance and the winner’s kingdom hosts a massive party and a heap of important musical performers come for all necks of the woods too play and come watch!” I smile getting excited just thinking about it “Yugyeom and I have a duo, I have a solo and so does he, then a boy group performance and then a girl group performance if we win 3/5 of the categories Auradon will host its first ever K fest, it’ll be amazing!” I stop abruptly “our duo performance is gonna be the best we’ve ever done, and we’ve done a lot” I chuckle “anyways this is the boys dorm 701 Gil and Harry are here and then just down the all at 690 is where Uma will be if y’all need her. Your belongings will be inside for you if you need anything please don’t hesitate to ask” I turn around and walk to my room Uma in tow “so Y/N, been a while huh?” She laughs “indeed it has, how’re you feeling about all this?” I ask pointing around “it’s where I’ve always wanted to get my crew, I got Gil and Harry here, now I need to work on the rest” I see a glint of sadness in her eyes “I’m only really here because I care about those boys and they don’t deserve to rot on an island, yeah they’re dicks and trouble but they’re loyal to me so I am loyal to them, they fight for me so I fight for them. Always!” I was shocked Uma was really caring I didn’t expect this side of her “I’m only telling you this because I know you and Harry are a thing” she pays my back “wait we still are?” I ask hopeful “yeah, the moment he gets you alone he’ll be all over you like a hungry wolf, watch ya back” she laughs I take a deep breath “thank you Uma I wasn’t sure he even still knew me” I lay on my bed and my stomach grubmles “girl you’re so busy dancing you don’t eat” Uma scolds “come on” she grads my hand “were getting you some food!” Running out the door she takes me too the kitchen and starts making food “I used to have make chips all the time at the shop, so hopefully Auradon sir makes them taste better than the grubby isle ones” she scoffs “Uma, can I ask something?” I nervously fiddle “sure princess what’s up?” She says cutting up potatos “Did Harry’s father ever abuse him?” She seems taken aback “it’s just I remember telling Harry I’d stay behind he just had to pretend he had me at sword point, and he said he’d never even pretend to do such a thing because he wasn’t his father.” I wipe a few tears I was confused was Harry harmful “Harry gets his father’s temper or therefore lack of, he had outbursts, I’m sure he’ll still have them, yes to put it shortly his father before he was in the crew would often abuse him. But it wasn’t uncommon, not in the isle love is a weakness.” “Then am I weak for loving him no matter what Uma” why was I even opening up to her “no because I think you could be good for him, just don’t turn him” she jokes “or I’ll use this” she holds her shell out “yes captain!” We laugh. “Maybe finally having a roommate won’t be so bad aye” I smile as she cooks Uma might actually be a really great friend and she knows more about Harry than anyone else maybe Hook and I could work.

*The Next Day*

“Those boys I swear are always late” I mutter to no one in particular “now what’s a gorgeous girl like you doing standing ‘ere all alone?” My heart jumps hearing his voice again “Hi Harry” I turn around smiling “ye know isle got boring without a princess to kiss” she smirks “is that so, awe Harry did you miss me” I joke about he moves closer “believe me or not love, I actually did. Let’s say you left a bit of a mark on me so to speak” I giggle “now come here babe” I pull him in for a long and heated kiss “Lovely doing business with ye princess” he smirks spinning around and walking out. What the actual fuck was that, what is he playing at I’m not just some toy, I turn on the music and start dancing to Bonnie & Clyde by Dean nothing can distract me not even Harry.

Harry’s P.O.V

I fucked it up I panicked and played fuck boy player again the confident fascade is what I’m know by I must keep it up, show no emotion, no weakness. Sorry princess. It’s just how I am.

I walk to uma’s room and knock on the door “yeah what” I hear her shout “it’s me” and like that the door flies open “Where’s Gil?” She questions “running round with Jay apparently they’re besties or whatever I’m just letting the dog loose” I plop myself down on the princess’ bed “geez Auradon beds are comfy” I sigh “I don’t think your little girlfriend would appreciate your smelly leather and metal scent over her sheets” Uma jokes “not me girlfriend” I point out “I’d watch it if I were you then, she gushed on about that Yugyeom boy for a very long time, of she ain’t yours surely she’ll be his I mean they’re never not together.” As if on cue in walks Y/N “Hey Uma did you see where I put my tablets, the ones with the orange jar, I’ve got a massive headache.” She rubs her head still unaware I’m laying on her bed “yeah left hand side of the bathroom counter top” she smiles did I miss something what are they all of a sudden so... friendly...

“Thank you so much oh and by the way I’ll be back late tonight so don’t wait up I’ll sneak in, Yugyeom and I have to rehearse til late cause Ben wants to come watch us and make sure it’s all good” I watch as she leaves then I close my eyes and drift off too sleep surprisingly.

“Harry wake up omg” I hear as I open my eyes too see Uma standing above me “what?” I ask rubbing me eyes then picking up me hook “get off of Y/N’s bed and wake up she’s gonna be here soon” she scoffs “surely she wouldn’t mind a handsome looking lad in her bed waiting for ‘er” I laugh.

Y/N’s P.O.V

“Ben I don’t really understand?” I question “you want us... to kiss?” I point between Yugyeom and I “yes the chemistry is there I’m telling you it’s the winning touch, the performance is so dynamic it just needs the big ending, it’ll leave everyone shocked, stunned and more importantly it shows how well you work together.” The king smiles “are you sure this is a good idea?” He’s gone crazy completely mad oh this is not going to end well “let’s call it a day you two need to eat and back again tomorrow for more practice” Ben smiles holding the door open for us both, “he’s not serious right Y/N” Yugyeom whispers “I hope he’s not, but something tells me he is, it’s fine gyu we are the best this is nothing!” I smile placing a hand on his shoulder “what about that boy?” He asks in a small voice “we aren’t dating he made that very clear, who cares this is our dream we are so close!” I smile side hugging him and briefly laying my head on his “fighting!!” I smile before grabbing his hand and walking to my dorm he always walks me to the door of my room when we practice late “Thanks Yugyeom!” I smile “let’s work hard tomorrow!” I hug him really tightly saying goodbye and open the door to find Uma working on something and Harry asleep on my bed “I don’t remember ordering a strange man in my bed, Uma I think this ones for you.” I point to the pirate passed out on my bed “he’s been like that for hours, I don’t think he’s sleeping at night” Uma shrugs “I’ll be back I have to go try round up Gil watch the scot” I laugh before going to change clothes in the bathroom I walk out no more than 10 minutes later and he’s still there snoring away. “Harry I told you if you were struggling to come find me” I play with his hair and carefully remove the hook placing it right next to my bed I grab the spare blanket from the cupboard and put it over him and when I go to walk away I hear “Please, just stay with me love” he says almost way too soft “I’ll explain later just please” I notice he’s shaking must be nightmares or ptsd “it’s okay Harry I’m right here, I’m always gonna be okay” I smile placing a soft kiss on his forehead and jumping into the free slither of bed he’s left much for my surprise he moves and pulls me close with his arm around my stomach before I know it I’m fast asleep.

Harry’s P.O.V

I woke up and there she was in my arms and it felt right, it felt like nothing could ruin this moment until once again I panicked I’m not used to feeling this I grab my hook and leave her all alone, pangs if guilt hit me but I ignore them I’m a pirate the best one I don’t need feelings they make you weak and I will never be weak. I will make my father proud he will call me his son and I’ll finally have a family, I don’t need some stupid princess to distract me.

Y/N’s P.O.V

I woke up alone in my bed with nothing left but the memory and slight scent of metal and the ocean, or was it leather? Doesn’t matter now he used me again and I let him, I need to watch myself no distractions that would discredit all of Yugyeom and I’d hard work I’m letting Harry ruin this for me. That being said another day another practice T-minus 1 week until we gotta rock this competition he’s obviously gotta work himself else I ain’t here for his amusement ugh, today there’s a big school meeting where we perform some songs as a taster for the school and our sister school (team) Ateez High are sending over their recruits to perform, I can’t wait we have had these prepared forever so we got this in the bag.

{Might do a series on this one, kinda proud my first imagine for Harry Hook x Y/N reader I had to add something kpop okay just bear with me! Got a few requests so I’ll be getting right into them⚡️🤍}

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nicco-needs-love · 3 years ago

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Oh boy. I did it. I wrote this damn thing. It's kinda long (5k) so I'm splitting it into three parts because that's how I wrote this fic. The full thing will be up on ao3 tomorrow because it's 6am :,) my ao3 is HoliGAY if you wanna see the whole thing because I'm gonna edit it and make it look pretty on there! :,,)))

TW//quick desc of gore, and romanticizing of marriage! The gore isn't in this chapter so no worries! I would say this chapter would be rated G!

This is only chapter one! I'm gonna post the other's tomorrow! Sorry for any errors! I didn't read it over!

(1/3) White Proposal

"Is it normal? Y'know… To fall in love with one of our Eves?"

"Do you really think that's a good question to ask me?! Hell, I've fallen in love with every damn one of them!"

Ildio shrugs, realizing that asking Hyde was not the smartest idea.

"Well? There's a reason you asked that. Catching feelings for your Eve?"

"Yeah, I wanna propose."

Hyde inhales his water, coughing everywhere; caught very off guard at Ildio's sentence.

"Huh?!"

"It isn't that strange. Mother married one of her old eves. Double Doubt and his eve are engaged. You and yours?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But it's normal for us to fall for our eves! You, however, haven't done that once!"

"Well… Nicco's different."

Ildio looks away, thinking about the long haired guy he'd hopelessly fallen for. Ildio isn't sure about even asking Niccolò to marry him. They're dating, been dating for a few years. It's just there has never been a good instance of Servamps marrying their Eves. It's just a sad thing to think about. Servamps are immortal, they'll never die. Their Eves aren't. Ildio was never close to any of his previous Eves, he was one of the very few Servamps who has never fallen in love. Of course, that was until he met Niccolò. It was a curse until Ildio eventually gave up fighting off those butterflies he'd get when Nicco would smile.

"Uh-huh… Okay. Do you actually wanna do it? Propose I mean. Think about it, would it work? Sometimes I wanna propose to Licht but there's so many reasons I can't. Our schedules, his job, he's popular with "everyone" so I can't imagine the problems he would get if people found out he was married. Hell,I'm not sure Licht would even say yes."

"I'm just thinking about it, if I was gonna do it, it wouldn't be extravagant, we wouldn't even have to wear rings."

"Then what's the point? Could be the romanticism in me but, that's such a beautiful thing about marriage. Wearing rings? It's so romantic, the glimmer of each other's face reflecting on their wedding rings! Being able to see your love in a metal band on someone's finger is just a beautiful thing! I've been married a few times and wedding days are some of the best days of my life."

Ildio sighs, definitely regretting his decision of talking to Hyde about this. He definitely should have talked to Kuro instead, none of the theatrics or excessive romantic details. Honestly any of his siblings would have been better to talk to about this; except for Hugh. Hugh has always been against Servamps falling in love. Especially ever since the incident with Hyde many centuries ago. Then Jeje's past with the Alicen family. There have been many, many times Servamps have fallen in love. Every time they had talked about those things to Hugh, there would be a very long conversation about the problems with a romance like that. That's one of the reasons that Ildio has always been weary of the idea of love. In fact, he thought he would never fall for anyone. All his previous Eves were asses who would break Ildio's rules almost immediately. Yet again, Niccolò changed his mind on that.

"I'm gonna go, Law. I'm gonna think more about it."

"Mkay! Invite me to the wedding! I wanna see it!"

Ildio laughs aloud once, closing the door behind him.

The thing is, Ildio already bought a ring for the proposal. It was an impulse buy, he was shopping for snacks and a bright ring caught his eye in a window. The ring is one of a kind, a gorgeous onyx black band, with a shining silver inlay. Apparently there was a second ring similar to that one, however it sold a while ago. Ildio knew immediately the ring would fit Nicco. Don't ask how he would know that, many hours watching Niccolò's hands move would certainly not be Ildio's answer. The ring, inside a white velvet box, feels heavy inside his pocket. He could propose, just give Nicco the ring and walk away. Although he knows there's no way he could do that. After all, the worst thing Niccolò could say is no, right?

"He's been gone for hours… Not so far that the distance effect would take in, but far enough that I can't find him."

Niccolò sighs, sinking down against the vinyl chair he's sitting in. A few hours ago, Ildio told him to meet him at this diner. Nicco didn't expect to be waiting for hours. It's not like he has anything to do today anyway. Besides the piles of phone calls he has to make with other bosses of families because there have been many issues in the workplace. Nicco puts his head down on the table, considering giving Ildio a call. Not because he's impatient, but starting to get worried.

"Hey, Nicco."

Niccolò opens his eyes and looks up, seeing Ildio. Nicco isn't sure when he took a nap, but he certainly did. Ildio looks nervous? Niccolò isn't sure why he would be, but he sits up, tapping the spot next to him on the seat for Ildio to sit down.

"Hey… Sorry I fell asleep, I meant to call but, I fell asleep…"

Ildio doesn't say anything, just nods. It isn't rare for Ildio to not say anything. However, it is rare for Ildio to look this nervous. Or nervous at all. Nicco notices Ildio has his hand inside his jacket pocket, it looks like he's fidgeting with something? Or, it could just be Niccolò projecting. You see, something has been weighing on his mind for months; marriage. Niccolò knows that's the very last thing he should be thinking about. First of all, he's a mafia boss with many people who rely and count on him, he still has to prove he can be just as good as his father one day. Secondly, he would be married to a vampire, a Servamp. If Niccolò proposed, would Ildio even have a choice to say no? If that's the case, Nicco would never want to propose. Still, he bought a ring, specifically for Ildio. He was just window shopping for rings when he saw it. The ring is a shining silver that shines beautifully in the sun. Inside the ring is a deep black inlay, the ring is gorgeous. He sighed a sigh of relief looking closely at the ring, he knew it would fit Ildio perfectly. Niccolò being the hopeless romantic he is, he got an engraving into the ring's inlay. 'Mio dio'. Translating to 'My God' in italian. It's a very cheesy thing that Niccolò thinks about a lot, he thinks of Ildio as his God.

Nicco can't help but idly roll the black velvet box between his fingers. He bought the ring about two weeks ago, he's been thinking about the moment over and over. The imaginary proposal in his head. Niccolò honestly is far too shy to do something so forward. It's completely different to hold hands or soft kisses, this is marriage.

"S-so uh...Why were you out for so long, Il? I was getting worried…"

"Just thinkin' about stuff."

Silence. Niccolò shifts in his seat uncomfortably, not too sure what to say. Ildio is thinking the exact same, he isn't sure which way to go about this.

"So uh-"

They both start talking at the same time. Meeting each other's eyes, Niccolò looks down first, a blush dusting his face. Ildio obviously takes notice of this, realizing that Nicco is more nervous than usual; which is hard to be.

Ildio stands up, grabbing Nicco's hand and taking him out of the diner. In the corner of his eye, he can see many of the Carpe Diem members giving him a look of suspicion.

Outside the diner, around seven feet away from the entrance, Ildio can't stop fiddling with the box in his pocket. Nicco isn't touching the box in his pocket, however, it feels like one-hundred tons weighing in on him.

Ildio inhales, getting a grip on the wedding ring. He's doing it; he's going to ask Niccolò to marry him.

Looking at Ildio, Nicco can see a look of determination? Seeing that makes Nicco want to propose. He reaches within his coat pocket, grabbing the white box.

"Niccolò."

Nicco stops in his tracks, the severe tone in Ildio's voice making him stop. Has he done something wrong? Does Ildio suddenly just want to turn their relationship into business only? Does he want to leave the business and have nothing to do with Nicco anymore? His hands turn clammy, swallowing down a lump of anxiety.

"Y-yes?"

"I uh… Listen, augh- dammit."

Ildio's stuttering just makes Niccolò feel much more nervous. Thousands of different things race through Nicco's head. Thousands of negative things. He tries to brace himself for whatever words Ildio is going to say. Unfortunately, Nicco knows that if Ildio says anything negative, it will most likely break him.

"...I wanna marry you."

Ildio pulls out the white velvet box, opening it up to show the ring to Nicco. Part of him doesn't want to see Niccolò's reaction. He doesn't want him to say yes because Ildio doesn't want to get any closer to this anomaly. He also doesn't want Nicco to say no, because honestly… Ildio wants to marry Nicco. If Ildio's being completely honest with himself, he's hopelessly in love with the man before him.

Nicco gasps, audibly gasps, a… a proposal? He can't believe his eyes. The ring is absolutely stunning, it looks uncannily similar to the ring that Nicco bought for Ildio. He looks up to meet Ildio's eyes from the ring; it feels like hundreds of butterflies fly from his heart. Ildio's eyes are warm, soft. The breath leaves Nicco in a rush. Niccolò is sure Ildio is a literal god, not a vampire.

"I- the funny thing is…uh…"

Niccolò pulls the open black velvet box from his coat, showing the ring to Ildio. Nicco turns his head away from Ildio, not wanting to see his expression.

Ildio blinks a few times, looking at the gorgeous ring in Nicco's hands. He can tell immediately that it's the opposite version of the ring he purchased a few nights ago. Looking closer, Ildio can see some italian engraved into the ring. Since Niccolò knows italian, Ildio was able to know it immediately when they made their contract. "Mio Dio". It's a term that Nicco would use very affectionately towards Ildio. A term that Ildio doesn't agree with, but hearing those words from Nicco is, ironically, heavenly.

"Jesus Nicco… This is beautiful. So, I'm guessing it's a yes?"

Niccolò laughs, nodding. He pulls the ring out of it's black box, gently sliding it onto Ildio's finger. Ildio mimics the action, both of them wearing the ring the other chose.

Ildio grabs Niccolò's tie, tugging him into a gentle, loving kiss.

#servamp #gluttony pair #servamp niccolo #niccolo carpediem #ilnico #servamp ildio #fanfiction #chapter 1 #wedding theme #fluff #ff fluff #in which i write #not me projecting again #that's a tag now #not beta read #shipping #i love this ship sm #it needs more love

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isolemnlyswearpevensie · 4 years ago

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Paper Cut Part 2 | Edmund Pevensie x Reader Soulmate AU

Warnings: Making out/kissing

Time/Era: Modern AU but the Pevensies have been to Narnia.

Word Count: 2.5k

Summary: Y/N confronts Edmund about the intense injuries she had received in the past.

A/N: Here’s the second part to paper cut :) If you haven’t read the first part, link below! Please send requests :D Enjoy!

Part 1 | Part 3 | masterlist | read on ao3

“Edmund, I think you have a lot of explaining to do.”

Edmund’s face was unreadable, almost as if it was made of stone. He stayed quiet; the only sounds that filled the air were the shuffling of the barista and the espresso machine. Y/N wished he would just say something. The silence was damning.

“Edmund?” His gaze didn’t falter at his name but stayed glued to Y/N’s hand. His eyes traveled up her arm, taking mental notes of every scar, bruise, bump, or cut. Edmund stood up without a word, the chair making a painful screeching noise in his path, and walked out of the coffee shop.

Meeting her soulmate had been completely different in her head; maybe they would fall into each other’s arms in the streets of London. He would sweep her off of her feet after noticing a small scar on her neck and say something disgustingly romantic. “I’ve been waiting for you, Y/N, you’re even more beautiful than I could have ever imagined.” Then, they would fall madly, deeply in love, and adopt a dog. Fall wedding perhaps? Maybe summer? But here Y/N sat, one hand on her stomach, the other gripping a foreign notebook. Before Y/N could process what was happening, Edmund was out of sight and she was left to her own thoughts.

“Y/N! Wake up!” Y/N was startled by Y/B/F/N shaking her awake. “Don’t you have a final in like an hour?”

That sentence felt like a bucket of ice water. Y/N sprung up from her warm bed and scrambled to get ready. The clock seemed to run dangerously fast and by the time she opened the door of her lecture hall, the test was being passed out.

“You have three hours and because I’m in such a good mood, you may use your study guide.” The professor continued to pass the packets around the room. They looked thick and time-consuming. Time management had never been Y/N’s strong suit.

When she was handed her paper, all she could do was take a deep breath. This professor was a harsh grader, so unless her answers were 100% correct, there was no way Y/N would pass. She took the unfamiliar notebook she received from Edmund out of her bag and opened it to his scribbled notes.

His handwriting was somewhere in between messy and neat; some of the words ran into one another and they were all slanted to the right slightly, yet the letters were beautifully constructed and entirely intelligible. Edmund also took it upon himself to highlight passages he deemed important with a note at the beginning that read: my sister had to take o chem. I asked her what’s important. That was sweet, Y/N thought.

It seemed as if Edmund knew what he was talking about, too. Each answer was answered completely with further background information to make it easy to understand. Why would you willingly take this? Seems like hell… was written in the margins next to one of the boxes of text. I could say the same about law, sweater boy.

By the time Y/N had finished her final, the three hours had turned into 10 minutes. She was one of three students left in the classroom and the other two were looking beyond panicked. Most of the class seemed to have either blazed through it like it was an 8-year-old’s math homework or given up halfway through and accepted their loss. Y/N, however, had to pass this class so she triple-checked her answers, took a daydream break, then checked it again. She would be lying if she said her daydreams didn’t consist of Edmund. She wondered if he would ever text her again.

The young girl hurriedly walked out of the classroom, happy to be done with the semester. She wrapped her jacket tightly around her and braced herself to brave the aggressive weather.

“Hey,” A voice from her right called out. It was Edmund; he was leaning against the wall lazily. His nose was a bright pink, as were his cheeks, and his hands were pushed into his pockets for warmth.

“Edmund? What are you doing here? You must be freezing!” Y/N walked over to him and looked him once over. A simple long sleeve shirt, vest, and jeans. Y/N slung her wool scarf around his neck.

“Oh, uh, thanks…” He pushed himself off of the wall with his shoulder. Damn, his shoulders were huge.

“I’m sorry about the coffee shop, I didn’t mean to jump you like that,” Y/N apologized bashfully. He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“No, I get it. I would have the same reaction. That’s, uh, why I’m here.” Edmund was awkward, looking anywhere but her eyes. Instead, he observed her freckles, eyebrows, and cheeks. “I was wondering if we could, uh, talk? Maybe somewhere private? Like my dorm?”

“Oh, so you want to take me, your newly discovered soulmate, back to your dorm?” Y/N had a hint of mischief in her eyes and a teasing smile on her lips. Edmund’s eyes grew wide and he started to sputter.

“That’s not what I meant! I would never! I mean unless you wanted to, but no! I just meant to talk,” His cheeks are red again, but this time it wasn’t from the cold.

“I’m just taking the piss, let’s go, vesty.”

Edmunds dorm was not what she was expecting. One side looked like it was hit by a tornado, but the other was very organized. Even on the floor, there was a distinct division between the two sides. The neat side, which appeared to be Edmund’s, was very plain. His bed was made with a red duvet and black pillows, his desk was blank besides a small pencil cup, and the cork board hanging above his desk had reminders and pictures.

“Those are my siblings,” Edmund noticed Y/N’s wandering eyes. “They’re practically dying to meet you, Y/N.”

“How did you know my name? I never told you,” She crossed her arms and strained her neck to look back at him.

“Ah, so I was right, you don’t remember me. We took a few classes together during first and second years. I always thought you were cute, so I guess it stuck.” Now it was Y/N’s turn to blush.

“You think I’m cute?” Her arms uncrossed and turned so she was facing him head-on.

“Well, yeah. You are my soulmate, after all, Y/N. Don’t be silly,” Edmund seemed to be growing more and more comfortable. He was enjoying watching her blush because of what he said; it made a sense of pride grow in his stomach. This was his person, and she was standing right in front of him.

“Speaking of soulmates…” Y/N trailed off and looked towards the floor. Her hands grasp the zipper of her jacket and unzip it, before rolling up the bottom of her shirt. The jagged scar was on full display, a stark contrast against the skin of her abdomen. Edmund eyed it guiltily; he knew the exact pain she had to go through to get that scar. She had to go through that pain because of him. His own hands found the bottom seam of his own clothes and pulled it up to reveal a matching mark.

“I can explain but you won’t believe me,” His honey-brown eyes met hers.

“Try me, Pevensie.”

He led her to sit on her bed and sat next to her. Y/N hastily kicked off her shoes so she could sit with her legs crossed on her bed. Her shoes tumbled to the ground with two thuds. Edmund, on the other hand, just bent one leg and let the other hang off the edge. He took her hands in his.

“You have to promise me to listen to it all before you ask questions,” Edmund fidgeted nervously with a ring on Y/N’s fingers as they spoke. Y/N didn’t know if this was on purpose or a subconscious action, but it comforted her all the same.

“Well, when I was young my parents sent my siblings and me to live away from home. When we were there, my little sister Lucy discovered a wardrobe in one of the spare rooms. Well, inside the wardrobe was this beautiful land called Narnia. It was gorgeous and huge! And when I say huge, I mean HUGE!” He caught himself rambling excitedly and reeled it back in. “Well, uh, anyway, there was this woman, we called her the White Witch and she manipulated me into basically selling my siblings out. The entire nation of Narnia got into a huge battle and the White Witch stabbed me.”

“Did she lock you up somewhere cold?” Y/N asked, disregarding her promise to stay quiet.

“Um, yeah. She locked me in this big ice cell. It wasn’t fun. I’m pretty sure I almost got frostbite but my body rejected it because I started warming up randomly.”

Y/N smiled. The paper towel.

“But that scar on your stomach,” He took his hand away from yours and gently touched your stomach. “Is because she stabbed me. But again, my sister Lucy had this special liquid that could heal any injury.”

Edmund seemed to smile at the memory. “Long story short, my siblings and I got crowned Kings and Queens of Narnia and ruled for a number of years. We then got sent back-”

“Wait, wait, wait, Kings, and Queens? Who are you? Alexander the Great?” Her tone was teasing and unbelieving.

“Edmund the Just, actually. And I told you to listen!” His smile reached his eyes this time. “Well we came back to earth through the wardrobe and we were kids again! About a year later, we returned to Narnia and met our good friend Caspian. We had to fight Caspian’s home country. In the end, Aslan helped us and Caspian became a king as well.”

“Who’s Aslan?” Y/N was doing her best to keep up and believe the information, but it was quite hard.

“He’s a big lion, he’s kind of like the ruler of Narnia. I guess you could say a God? I guess…”

“A big lion god? Edmund…”

“I know it sounds crazy, Y/N. I know but you have to believe me! I went one more time with Lucy and my cousin. We were on a big Naval ship with Caspian and we had to find a bunch of swords-”

“Edmund, love, just tell me the truth.” Y/N was sad that right off the bat her soulmate was lying to her. Edmund’s eyes seemed to lose their sparkle.

“I would never lie to you, Y/N. Here, look.” He took off Y/N’s scarf and gently placed it on the bed before pulling his vest and shirt over his head. On his rips was a beautifully drawn tattoo of a lion that appeared to be roaring. And on his collarbone was a sword. Y/N delicately reached her hand out and ran her fingertips against the drawing of the weapon. It had insane detail and the way it was drawn made it look sharp. Y/N retracted her hand and sat back.

“That’s one of the swords we found during my third trip. It was gifted to Caspian by the lord who owned it. And this is Aslan. His roar was the most powerful magic in all of Narnia.” Edmund searched Y/N’s face for any emotion she was feeling. Right now, she was staring at the sword with a pondering look on her face.

“Okay, say you were a king-”

“I am a king.”

“Fine, you’re a king. What exactly did you do, ya know, as a ruler?”

“Well, me and my brother Peter ran the army and trained them for battle. Along with other things like managing trade and creating political policies.”

“So, fighting? You fight?”

“Yeah, I fought in many battles, big and small. I got stabbed, remember.” His smile was cheeky and he pulled his long sleeve back on. “Once I got good, I didn’t even use a shield. I fought with two swords.”

“TWO? Aren’t those things heavy?”

“Well, yes, but when you went through all of the training I did, it gets easier.” Edmund could tell he was starting to believe him.

“Tell me more.”

The two spent the next few hours discussing the ins and outs of Narnia down to the floor plan of Cair Paravel. Y/N had decided that Edmund had way too much detail to be making it up, and even if he did, it was so magical that she wouldn’t even be mad.

“Okay, vesty, I believe you.” Y/N says after Edmund gave a lengthy explanation about all the gifts his siblings received and what they do. He stopped mid-word and stared at her.

“You believe me? Really?”

Y/N smiled and nodded. “Yes, Edmund. I’m going to be spending my life with you, your highness, so I may as well get familiar with it.”

“Please don’t call me that,” Edmund scooted closer to her. “I hated it even when people in Narnia called me that. I don’t need people outside of Narnia calling me it. Especially not you.”

She turned her head so she was staring right at him. “Why not me?” Y/N’s speech came out as a whisper. They were so close that she didn’t need to speak loudly.

“Because if I really was your highness, it would be kind of weird for me to do this.”

Edmund placed a hand on Y/N’s jaw and leaned in. His lips barely brushed her lips before pressing firmly against them. Y/N’s eyes closed shut and she happily kissed back.

When people described kissing their soulmate for the first time, they always explain it as an electric spark igniting throughout their entire body. They explain it as a firework show full of magnificent colors. Kissing Edmund didn’t feel like that. Kissing Edmund felt like home. She felt safe, secure, and loved as if kissing this boy was what she was meant to do for her entire life. The way he tasted, like peppermint and candy, was the best thing she had ever tasted. And they way he held her, one hand on her jaw and the other holding her close to him by her waist, felt like the warmth of a favorite blanket. The way he moved made her knees feel like jelly.

As their lip lock continued, his fingertips danced across her back until it landed on the other side of her jaw. He pulled away from their kiss, pressing a quick peck against her nose and jaw before leaning against his headboard.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for my entire life,” Y/N said, her voice gentle and soft.

“Me too. The thought of kissing you, Y/N L/N, was the only thing that got me through some tough times. I had to make it to be able to feel what it was like.”

Y/N was silent for a long moment.

“Edmund, love, do you think I will ever go to Narnia?”

Edmund looked at her for a long moment then smiled with half of his mouth.

“I don’t know, darling, but anything is possible. Especially when it comes to Narnia.”

#edmund pevensie #edmund pevensie x reader #edmund x reader #edmund pevensie fanfic #edmund pevensie fanfiction #the chronicles of narnia #the chronicles of narnia fanfic #the chronicles of narnia fanfiction #narnia

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ffakc · 4 years ago

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Isn’t She Lovely? - a Jeffrey Dean Morgan fanfiction

Let me preface this by saying I have ZERO desire to have kids IRL, but the thought of Jeff being a loving, doting birth partner makes me feel warm and fuzzy. He’s also such an amazing Daddy, I just had to... fluff galore! @negans-attagirl @happysgal @iluvneganandjamie

It was my final shift as a manager at the adorable Rhinebeck coffee shop that was my home for the past year. My regulars and coworkers teased me, asking why I still had a job despite being married to one of the top grossing actors on The Walking Dead, but working kept my mind busy during the times my Jeffrey was away. I was also three days overdue with our daughter. My midwife told me to rest, but it’s hard to rest when people call in sick!

“Baby!” I step out from behind the counter and greet my husband with a kiss. He places his large hand on my stomach.

“Look how cute my gal is with her apron and her big ol’ belly,” Jeff gushes.

“Why do you have to say it like that?” I laugh. Jeff scoffs and kisses me.

“Shut up, you’re gorgeous,” he smiles. “You about ready to go, doll?”

“If I don’t see you tomorrow, congratulations! You’re going to be a great mom!” my regular Josh tips his cup.

“Bye Josh!” I turn back to Jeffrey, “Yeah, I’m ready whenever you are. I just need to clock out for the last time.”

“We’ll miss you, Boss Lady!” my lead barista Kayla hugs me.

“I’ll miss you too!” I reply, “Bye, everyone!” I call back to the kitchen. Various voices yell back kind words. Kayla wipes a tear away.

“Aww, don’t cry!” I say, tears welling up, “You know I’ll come visit! I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“It’s been wonderful getting to know you, Kayla,” Jeff hugs her as well.

I take my husband by the hand and we make our way to his truck.

“Do you think tonight will be the night?” Jeff remarks.

“I sure hope so. I’m so achy and I feel like my stomach is going to split open,” I laugh.

“Poor thing,” Jeff pouts his lip and rubs my belly. “What do you want for dinner, sweet girl?”

“I’ve been craving sushi all damn day. Cooked, of course,” I reply. I make a quick call to Osaka, our favorite local Japanese place. I hang up the phone and sigh lovingly, “You’re going to be such a good Daddy.”

“And you’ll be the best Mama. I love you so much,” my husband plants a quick kiss on my lips.

***

I wipe the tears away as the music swells. We were watching Phantom of the Opera, one of my favorites. I let out and annoyed groan and Jeff cackles.

“Why are you crying now?!” my husband laughs, “It’s not even sad!” I shove a piece of sushi in my mouth.

“I don’t know!” I giggle, “Stupid pregnancy hormones.” Jeff places his hand on top of the bulge on my side.

“It’s like I’m holding her hand,” Jeff kisses around my navel, “I love my girls.” His kisses make their way up my chest, his hand makes its way through my hair and he sucks my neck.

“We love you too, Daddy,” I moan. Jeff climbs on top of me and I kiss him deeply, gripping onto the neck of his hoodie.

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this, might induce labor,” my husband smirks and rests his forehead against mine.

“I’ve heard that’s a myth. I want you so bad, Jeffrey,” I lick my lips and run my fingers through his gray hair. Jeff rasps my name, unbuttoning his jeans. I feel a surge of energy in my lower half as Jeff buries his face in my chest. My eyes widen as clear liquid begins pooling between my thighs. I realize immediately what’s happening.

“Jeff...”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“JEFFREY!” I exclaim and gesture downwards.

“Wha- OH! Oh my god! Baby... baby! We’re having a baby!” he stammers, climbing off of me and adjusts my shirt. “What do I do?!” I attempt to calm him, even though I’m quite panicked myself.

“Go get the bag and start the truck!” I breathe heavily. Jeff puts on his glasses and grabs my large black backpack, slinging it over his shoulder.

“I’m so excited! It’s real! It’s happening!” Jeff laughs. He helps me off the couch and we hustle to the truck. Jeff calls my mom as he lays a towel on the passenger seat.

“Hey Ma!”

“Hey Jeff, how are you? Any baby updates?”

“Well... You’re going to be a grandma probably within the next 24 hours!”

“Oh my god!” my mom sounded just like her mother when she said that. I squeeze Jeff’s hand as he speeds down the road.

“Let me see here,” Jeff pulls up flights on the touch screen on the dashboard.

“Eyes on the road, Daddy, please!” I exclaim, “Hi, Mom! Sorry!” I hear both my parents laugh at me, causing me to laugh too. I sounded like a nervous wreck.

“Hi! Are you feeling okay? Any contractions yet?”

“Not yet, from what I looked up... woah! I felt a little cramping there.”

“I see a five hour flight that leaves in three hours. Do you think y’all can manage that?” Jeff says, “I will pay, don’t you worry.”

“Anything for my first grandbaby,” my mom says. “I can’t guarantee we’ll be there for the birth, but we will be there! See you guys soon, okay?”

“Bye!” Jeff and I say in unison.

***

Four in the morning. I hadn’t slept a wink. Labor so far felt like the worst period cramps I’ve ever had. I was only two centimeters, a hell of a long way from ten.

“Jeffrey,” I whimper, my voice cracking, “It hurts.”

“I know, baby, I know. What can I do to help?” Jeff gets close to my face and kisses my forehead, rubbing my hand.

“Something cold would be wonderful. Ice chips, a popsicle. Anything.”

“How about a coffee?” a familiar voice comes from the door.

“You made it,” I smile weakly at my mom.

“No baby, huh? We DID make it!” my dad smiles and pumps his arm in a “YES!” hand gesture. He hugs his son in law and hands him a large Starbucks cup. He hugs me, kissing my forehead.

“Good, Mr. C. Real good,” my husband smiles, sipping the hot coffee.

“Don’t worry, I asked and she said it was fine,” I sit up in bed and hug my mom. She hands me a large iced beverage, “It’s a decaf americano with some Splenda, just something to sip on. I know you like a little bit of coffee with your cream, but you can’t have that right now.”

“Thank you so much,” I take a long drink. “That’s so good... God damn it!” I grit my teeth.

“Another one?” Jeff sits next to me on the bed. “I think they’re close to five minutes apart,” he says to my parents. I rest my head on his chest and groan loudly, “That’s it, pretty girl. Let it out. Scream if you have to. Break my fucking hand if you have to. You’re doing amazing so far.”

“This is the longest thirty sec- ah! Jeffrey!” I grip onto his thigh for dear life. He shushes me softly and rests his chin on my forehead, “I hate my mom and dad seeing me like this.” My mom reassures me that it’s nothing to be embarrassed about and her and my dad go to the waiting room. I try my best to remember the breathing techniques our midwife taught me, but failing miserably. This was going to be a long day.

***

Eight o’ clock. The rays of sun came flooding through the curtain. I close my eyes for a moment as another contraction squeezes me tight.

“Don’t say you’re tired. Come on, Jeff. She’s having your kid and you’re worried about being ti-“ Jeff mumbles to himself.

“You know you’re allowed to be tired too,” I laugh and look at him through slitted eyelids. Jeff smiles and kisses my cheek, rubbing my hand lovingly.

“Hello!” our midwife Lynn pokes her head in.

“Please tell me I’m ready to push,” I let out a deep breath.

“Well, let’s see, shall we?” Lynn checks me out. “Don’t hit me,” she chuckles. “You’re only at four centimeters.”

“Oh, Jesus. Just give me the damn drugs.” I glance over at my husband who is drifting off.

“I have to let you know that it will make your contractions stronger and more intense, and I know you’ve expressed being in a great deal of pain already.” Jeff opens his eyes.

“Fuck it, I’ll just sit on the ball for a bit. Daddy?” I turn to Jeff. He grabs the exercise ball.

“I’ll be back soon. Hopefully things will be progressing nicely!”

***

Six in the evening. There’s no possible way I had been in labor for twenty-four hours.

“You’re getting so close, doll,” Jeff whispers and pets my hair. “You’re so strong, Mama, you’re so damn strong. You’re a beautiful, incredible, powerful woman,” Lynn does a brief examination.

“That’s the kind of coaching we like to hear, Jeff! Good vibes only!” Lynn says, “Look at that. You are at a ten, my dear!” I fan my face and a single tear trickles down Jeff’s bearded cheek. I kiss him deeply. I place my feet in the stirrups. “Jeff, are you still okay with catching her? I know you said you wanted to, but sometimes dads back out at the last minute,” Lynn teases.

“Absolutely,” Jeff chuckles.

“All right, sweetheart. On your next contraction, I want you to push hard, okay?” she was so gentle with her words. I nod and exhale. Jeff grips my hand.

“You’ve got this, babe,” my husband kisses me.

The next forty-five minutes fly by and seem to go in slow motion all at the same time. I felt like I had run a thousand marathons.

“I can see her head!” Jeff says excitedly. “You’re almost there, darlin’, you’re so close!” I can’t find the words, the pain is getting to be unbearable.

“I’m going to pass out,” I moan.

“Come on, doll, you’ve got this. You’re doing incredible,” my husband glances between my thighs. “Oh my, she has your wavy hair,” tears stain his cheeks.

“I’m going to guess three more biiiig pushes and you’ll have a baby!” Lynn says.

“You’re so incredible, you’re a fucking warrior, you know that? These are the last few moments we have as just a couple, that’s so wild. After today, we are three. You’re never looked more beautiful, you are glowing. Kiss me, my gorgeous wife,” I feebly press my lips to his.

“Yeah...” I pant, “Oh my fucking god!” I cry out as my face reddens as I push with everything I have in me.

“That’s it! Jeff, quickly, the shoulders are coming!” My husband plants a kiss on my cheek and sits on a stool next to Lynn.

“One... two... three! Push! Come on, girlfriend! Every ounce of energy you have! Good job!” Lynn psyches me up. She mumbles instructions to Jeffrey.

Jeff begins to sob uncontrollably, “She’s so beautiful, you have no idea.” He gasps in awe. Suddenly, a rush of euphoria overtakes my whole body and a loud cry echoes through the room. I rest my head against the pillow and begin crying my eyes out. She’s here! Jeff holds our tiny daughter in his large hands.

“Just place her right there,” Lynn beams with pride. “You did it! Happy birthday, little girl!” She grabs some blankets as our little angel wails. I wrap my arms around her and Jeff bends down next to me.

“You’re so amazing, Mama. She’s so perfect. I love her, I love you. You are such a badass, I’m so proud of you,” Jeff whispers.

“I love you too, Jeffrey. Daddy, she’s all ours,” I kissed him over and over again, “I love you so, so, so much.” I had never felt more connected to my husband than this exact moment. After cleaning her off and doing all the routine checks, I finally get to hold our girl.

“Hi there, little bean,” I kiss the top of her head, my voice shot from crying and screaming, “I’m your Mommy,” I hold her tiny hand, “You look just like your Daddy. And you smell so good!”

“I’ve heard of new car smell, but new baby smell?” Jeff giggles.

“Do we have a name?” Lynn asks.

“Evelyn,” Jeff sniffs and kisses the crown of her head, “Evelyn Alice Morgan.”

#denny duquette #fanfic #fanfiction #greys anatomy #jeffrey dean morgan #negan #the walking dead #older man younger woman #john winchester #supernatural #fluff

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itstheendofthegoddamnworld · 5 years ago

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Male!Werewolf x Human! Reader (Modern AU)

So I’m back with another monster post. Werewolf boi is Rhys - tattooed bad boy with a bad boy and hubristic personality; there is more to him but is more of an enigma. ENJOY!

Warnings: mentions of blood and comfort. LONG CHAPTER AHEAD!

PART 2 - PART 3

A Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing

You had seen him many times in your small neighbourhood; a man you knew little of. You always saw him in the front of his garage of the front of his home, a heavily tattooed man wearing always some jeans and a white tank-top, always stained with oil with the rest of his muscular body.

You didn’t always like to stare, but the man literally stood out always when you caught him working on his bike or a rusty car. You noticed always his olive skin: greasy and sweaty from working under the hood, his dark hair messy as he finger-combed it out of his deep-caramel eyes.

There wasn’t much to know about him, and although you knew everyone in your small town, the man who lived not too far down from you was someone you knew nothing of.

People spoke whispers of him and his family: that he was the runt compared to his younger brothers, rebelling in many ways and always finding himself in the back of a cop’s car.

Other rumours went to him dealing with drugs, to being part of a mafia gang in the following town; some more absurd to outlandish than the next. The mysterious guy would be in your mind and remain the mysterious hunk with an unknown past and present.

You - on the other hand - were in the minds of some a goody-two-shoes, obeying rules and always tending to stick to them. You finished your education and got good grades, never stuck with the wrong crowds, and always seen as the angel in a world of negativity.

Sometimes that could be tiresome. Sometimes you thought, you would want to break the laws and reform from a life of the good side. Maybe once you could go and break free of the mould you had known all of your life.

Your day was usually the same; wake up, go jogging then head for work for 7 hours. It was the usual. Today seemed like all the others, heading out the door in your gym gear and with the dog leash in hand.

Toby was a large grey-charcoal great Dane, and indeed, a pain in your backside most days when it came to walking him. He was certainly a hassle when it came to walking and controlling him, and when it came to holding him, it seemed like he was the one always walking you and never the other way round.

“Come on boy.” You cooed, holding the leech tight in your grip as you began to jog down the narrow side of the road.

You lived just outside of your town, dense forests and few small houses lined up on the side of the road, where few cars came.

Walking down the long stretch of road, you were always anticipating for the lovely sight of the mysterious stranger working already in his open garage; always a sight that made your mouth water like you were picking a sweet treat in a bakery.

Holding Toby on a long lead, you jogged along the road, headphones in as you tried your best in controlling the large dog on your left.

His large house came into view to your left, and when you were waiting in joy for the lovely sight of the man, you were left in disappointment when you saw nothing but an empty and shut garage door, no sight of anything out of ordinary.

Toby yanked on the lead rougher than you had expected, and you nearly tripped in your gym shoes over the road, and you tried tugging the reigns in before you could fall.

It wouldn’t be the first time that I’d fallen on the side of the road. You reminisced, cringing at the event; the fall had left your knees bloody and palms of your hands scuffed and scratched up, leaving you shaken up.

“Toby, stop.” You grunted, something catching or gaining Toby’s attention, the sheer weight and strength of him was something that made you feel more pressured into trying to stop him.

“Toby.” You pulled him back, expecting for once the dog the size of a small pony, but when you saw that familiar sight of his large ears pinning up and standing straight up, you knew that you were not in any way able to stop him.

He had spotted a squirrel.

Gunning it in the bolt of lightning, quick as silver, Toby sprinted and you had underestimated whether you would be able to hold him back. You were pulled forward from the force as if someone from behind had shoved you to the floor.

The leash fell from your grip when you made contact with the hard concrete, knocking the wind from your lungs as you tried to get some air into you; a burning sensation kicks in through your entire body starting from your fingertips and spreading.

“Toby!” You spluttered, blinking in the realisation of where you were and what could’ve happened to your dog. There were cars on the road, and Toby was sprinting with no care in the world.

You stood shakily to your feet as you went about chasing after him, the adrenaline pumping in your veins, all thought running out your mind with the dread of too many questions?

What happened if he got hit? Or I did? You could barely afford vet bills and the thought of how much it could cost was something you couldn’t deal with, nor the fact you could lose Toby if someone was recklessly driving or needed to swerve.

Heck, I could get someone else injured because of this. Your day seemed to be getting worse the more and more you went with how badly it was going already. You didn’t believe it could get any better.

But then, your saviour, your hero appeared.

The short cut off of an engine caught your ears: a passing motorcyclist coming shortly to stop just before Toby could get past. Casually, almost magically, the anonymous motorcyclist coolly opened a palm out just before Toby sprang like a coil past.

And just like magic, Toby stopped dead in his tracks of running and trotted with no hesitation to be taken in and held by his attached lead.

Your mouth had dropped, as you sprinted down to catch up with the two, luckily, the roads hadn’t been too mad with other vehicles, and those were more interested in getting on with their days to stop and check if everything was fine. They had seen this countless times once over.

You were heavily out of breath, no matter how many times you went out jogging, this one had really knocked all your sense and air out from you, and you wanted to no more than to go and lie down in a darkened room.

“Toby, thank God-- hey, um, thank you.” You took back Toby by the lead that the stranger - now that you could tell was a male - and back into your own grip, making sure to be extra careful not to let him loose.

The male didn’t respond to you at all, and you knew that he had gone out of his way to help you, and it made you feel more embarrassed than you had taken time out of his day to help you; all thanks to you not having a good hold on Toby.

“Uh, I’m sorry about all that, Toby’s a big dog, I should’ve known that he was going to bolt-”

“You can barely even hang onto him, it’s no wonder he got out.” You were cut off from your ramblings, blinking owlishly and unexpectantly by the obscured male in front of you, casually leaning back on his motorcycle.

“I-I’m sorry?” You took more than a good insult before, but this guy was more than good at throwing them at someone like you, and you were certainly not prepared.

You looked over his clothes from what you could tell: all leather and onyx as ink, he wore a leather jacket and black jeans, a white t-shirt underneath. The man went to stand, and before you, you witnessed the helmet he wore come off.

The first thing you spotted that was familiar was the eyes: caramel, and bright and clear, and held so much irritation. You gawked at the neighbour you never knew anything about; the supposed bad boy who was linked to drugs and gangs.

The mysterious man before you was taller than you from what you could see, and from this close, you could see all detail in his face from when he was always working. You could see the freckles on his cheeks and nose, the nose piercing septum that glinted silver and how his eyes poured like the caramel that was poured on top of ice cream.

He was simply gorgeous.

He blinked, looking you up and down with scepticism, “You’re welcome?” His voice was deep, rich and honeyed, perfect and expectant from him. “You have no control of your dog.” He bluntly said to you.

You felt a prang in your chest from being merely and rudely spoken to by this man, and all secrets and rumours about him you had heard all seemed in your eyes to come true. He seemed like an asshole.

You gripped at Toby’s leash tighter in your fingers, looking away and anywhere to not meet his eye line. “Y-yeah, he’s not really my dog, my brother wanted a big dog, and he’s our family dog--”

“Cool, anyway, I’ll be off.” He announced with no warning, starting the engine once more as it roared to life beside you, making you almost leap out of your skin. He noticed, but said nothing, eyeing you silently.

“Thanks once again.” You softly spoke, looking to his body, his tousled dark brown hair and his eyes, already looking you over as he gave no expression nor smile. Those eyes were already looking you over once more, and he must’ve seen you look at him up and down.

“Sure.” He bluntly said, not giving a goodbye as he put his helmet down and hurtled down the road and away, his fleeing figure disappear off the road.

You watched him ride off, breathing out shakily as you heard Toby whine beside you, nudging your bruised and bloody knee. He gave you a look that any other human would’ve described as ‘shit-eating’.

“Yeah, whatever.” You mumbled, limping off to get back home.

“You’re telling me he just sped off with no care in the world? Damn, and you’re telling me he might be single too?” The roar of laughter beside you brought you to groan as you wiped down the surface area in the diner you worked at.

“Yeah, can we stop talking about it? He really embarrassed me, Max.” You grumbled, keeping your head down to hide the blush on your cheeks.

Maximus, the half-elf who looked more like something from Game of Thrones snorted beside you, clicking his tongue in humour. “Damn, if I had a neighbour like him, you would see me looking out my window every day. All I’ve got are orcs and faes doing yoga and smoking weed.”

“That sounds better than living in a wasteland.” You muttered, going back to work, thankful that it was getting closer to closing. There were two customers, a couple chatting quietly to each other in the corner and an old man by the counter with a cup of coffee.

“Honey, I’m just saying, you should’ve asked for his phone number, then if he had rejected you, you could’ve given his mine.”

“The cheek!” You faked dramatically, earning a wink from your coworker and a good friend. “I’m sure you would’ve had better luck with him than me.”

“You said he had tattoos too. Maybe I may have to get my car checked out by him.” Max chortled, earning a slap to his shoulder. “I don’t think he even does proper work for others. He’s always working on the same cars and his motorcycle-”

“Now, you didn’t tell me he was a mechanic too!” Maximus beamed. A harsh glare was given a customer in the back, Maximus ignoring it. “He’s mysterious, Max - like he’s an enigma.”

“Those types of guys are always doing coke on Wednesdays and seeing 10 different girls on the weekends.” Max hummed in thought, “You’re playing with your fantasies! The hot neighbour, the innocent angel living next door who comes to him to get his help to sort out her car-”

“I’m not innocent.” You blurted in a whisper, careful to not get anyone else hearing your conversation. “He helps you out, and not just the car.” Max winked cheekily your way, making you groan into your hands, hiding the blush.

Your chatter died down when you heard the door chime with the knowledge of another customer walking in. You removed your hands to look over to your right, seeing in the far corner the person walks in, and all blood draining from your face.

No fucking way.

Maximus noticed your pale face and wide eyes, nudging your shoulder and mouthing what was wrong before his lavender eyes darted back and forth between you and the muscular man coming over to the counter. The elderly man with his coffee cave the man in leather a glare, before he scoffed and continued with his own business.

You watched in horror as the same neighbour who had saved Toby and not your dignity came strolling to lean up casually against the counter.

“Hey,” he spoke, and for the first time since you encounter and a week of avoiding him, he gave you a grin. Your heart fluttered at the sight of sharp canines in his mouth, sharp for any human, “table for one?”

“You’re here... why?” You gaped silently, watching in your peripheral as Maximus slipped off to clean some tables, leaving you to it with the sexy stranger.

“Can I not come to get something to bite?” He spoke smoothly, the same grin never faltering from his olive skin face. “I have a sweet tooth, and nothing says anything like having something nice, right?”

“Right--” You blinked, trying to control your feelings and emotions as you tried to resume the usual employee’s bubbly and friendly exterior. “What can I get for you then, sir?”

He snorted softly at the title, rolling his eyes as he drummed his fingers on the counter. “Anything you got. Heard you do quite good milkshakes.”

I’m not going to get him embarrassing me once more. You thought, feeling both sweaty and light-headed. “Strawberry or vanilla?”

“Strawberry.” He mused, removing himself from the counter as he got himself a booth alone to your right and far away from the door and everyone else before you could ask him to grab a seat.

You watched from your spot, glancing back at Maximus as he mouthed back to you in an exaggerated way. “With a cherry on top.” He mouthed, giving you a thumbs-up as he resumed working.

You sighed, getting to work, silently and carefully making a strawberry milkshake with all the works - whipped cream, strawberry sauce and a cherry on top in a tall glass - and carefully made your way to get to his booth.

He was pressed in the corner, jacket removed as he looked out the window, silently looking out as if he was thinking to himself. He took notice of you as he saw you coming closer, and you slipped the glass on his table with somewhat ease.

“Cheers, sugar.” He thanked you quickly and charismatically, and when you had thought your job had been done, did he speak up to you again.

“Say, wanna sit and chat?”

You turned back to look at him as if he had ten heads. “I’m working?”

“I can see,” he raised an eyebrow, but he still looked to you as if you were mad. “but there’s no-one here.” You breathed out through your nose as you quietly agreed, slipping into the same booth and sitting opposite him, watching as he took a sip of his milkshake through the straw.

His caramel eyes lit up at the taste and he groaned to himself, his eyes rolling into the back of his head dramatically and deliberately, taking another large gulp. The sight alone, made you feel like you needed an exorcism, for allowing such lewd thoughts to come to your mind.

“This is good,” He grinned, eying you almost like a snack, “but not as good as you.”

“Really now, because I don’t think our first meeting went down very smoothly.” You retorted back, trying your best to not allow his sweet words to affect you.

He laughed at the remark, unexpectant but he seemed impressed. “Hey, I’m sorry about it, if it makes you feel any better, I am enjoying this milkshake you made me, and your company.”

“You don’t know me that well,” you began, resting your elbows on the table, “and I don’t know you.”

“True,” he chimed, “but it doesn’t mean we can’t start over, huh?”

You watched him but didn’t respond. He held out a large hand to you, taking the initiative. “Rhys Pearson.”

You told him yours, and finally, you could now put a face to his name. “How long you been working here for?” He asked, his eyes drifting from the tiles to the unkempt ceiling, “You could be working in a nicer place.”

“The pay is cheap but it gets me money, especially for my family.”

“Why?” Rhys questioned, swirling the straw between his fingers. A lump formed in your throat at the given words you wanted to speak. “I just do, nothing else.”

Rhys held his hands up defensively, “Hey if it makes your life feel any better, my home life is pretty shit.”

You raised an eyebrow quizzically, “How so?”

Rhys sighed almost sincerely, “The youngest of four brothers, I never got much attention. Ma and my old man were always pining for work and money, and I always made sure to get their attention in other ways.”

So, the rumours are true. You pondered. You didn’t want to believe them so so quickly, after all, it was wrong to judge a person’s character only from what you had heard, and from what you had seen already, Rhys was deemed different.

“You had four brothers? That does sound shit.” You rarely swore, and sometimes the realisation made you more surprised than your own closest friends.

Rhys leant back into the booth seat: he’s looking at me again, trying to read me once more. “Do you have a ride?”

You blinked. “A ride?”

“Yeah, to get home.” He slurped the rest of the drink down in little time. “I get the bus home, takes a while but I don’t mind the journey.” You shrugged.

Rhys threw some dollars onto the table whilst he scrambled some from his jacket pocket, before sliding out from the booth to stand. “Let’s go then.”

This guy is mad. “Rhys? Go where?” You wanted to laugh, to think this guy was playing with you and your feelings, but he was interesting, to say the least.

“I don’t want to say it again, do I? I’ll try you home. I’m not entirely the bad guy, ya know.” He grinned, giving you a wink as he headed to leave.

“I’ll be in my car.” He waved back on you, swinging his jacket over his bare shoulder as he walked out, and the mere sight of that made you nearly swoon and your knees buckle.

You headed back with the empty glass and change leftover, looking back on an observant yet intrigued Max. “What was that all about?”

“I’ll tell you when I get home.” You threw the change into the register, going to head to the back to get your things. “Apparently, he wants to take me home.”

You stepped out into the cold yet refreshing air, the coolness hitting your skin as you hurried to take a relaxing breath out through your mouth, taking in the smell of the nearby pine and fresh salt from the coastline.

It was good to get out of work, notably when you had had a rough day, and it was even better not having to get on a bus all the way home when you could get a free ride back from the hunky neighbour who you still knew nothing about.

That was still the thing, he was still some guy you had just met, and he could’ve been a serial killer or some creeper who liked taking snaps of girls when they weren’t looking.

A nearby honk brought your attention back to who was waiting for you: Rhys’ head hanging out the window as he waited for you. You smiled faintly, more out of nerved, gripping to your jacket you wore as you walked over to his beat-down truck, red as a rusty copper.

“Took you long enough.” He mused lightheartedly. it was better to see him in a good mood than he was irritated with you. “Sorry, got caught up with a coworker.”

Rhys didn’t reply, starting the engine as he drove off, and you told him your address, the two of you silently sitting in the car as he drove.

It was peaceful to look out the window, but not to be sat in silence with no conversation. Your mind was going 100 mph, doing cartwheels and trying to find anything to say to him.

“I’m sorry about our first meeting you know?” Rhys spoke up after some time of just driving and following the road. You looked to him confused, waiting for him to elaborate. “I don’t get on well with people, I tend to stick to myself. Usually, people owe me something and I don’t like getting involved and shit.”

“It’s fine.” You replied, “Thanks really for helping. I didn’t want you to think I was weird or weak for being able to hold me down.”

“I couldn’t just let a pretty thing like ya go on being dragged,” There it was again, his sweet-talking, “plus, it was quite hilarious watching it all.”

“How’d... how did you do it? Get my dog back without even having to chase him?” You pondered aloud. Rhys paused for a moment, “I used to look after my aunt’s dog when I was young. I always liked working with animals more than people; especially dogs.”

“Huh.” You were impressed, that he could that so easily, and you knew that it must’ve been some sort of talent to work with dogs and get them to behave.

“This is mine, uh, thanks again, Rhys. It was nice speaking with you and getting to know you more.” He pulled over just outside your house and outside your driveway.

You observed him and noted quickly his posture and how he sat, almost leant back and curled over the steering wheel. Something seemed up, something he wasn’ t telling you.

“There’s more to me that you should know.” He begun, more roughly spoken as he took your forearm in surprise, roughly grasped as you stared in mild nervousness and fear.

He sensed it, not letting go entirely, but loosening his hold on you. “Rhys, I need to get in-”

“I’m... I’m a...” He nearly confessed too quickly, opening his eyes wide as he saw the way you looked over to him; they want to know more but too fearful of what he had to say. He shut his mouth, shaking his head as he let you go. “Nothing, just go.”

You reluctantly left and didn’t say anything else again to him as you left to get into your home, hurrying to get your shoes off as you run up to your room. By the time you had gotten up there, Rhys had gone, and you were sure that same evening as you were getting ready for bed, you heard the distant sound of a howl; a wolf’s howl longing call through the night.

You didn’t hear or see from Rhys for another week, then another, until a month had gone past. It worried you how quickly someone like him could disappear under the radar and not even be seen again by anyone again.

And of course, it being a small town you lived in, people were quick to assume and speculate.

They guessed it was him running away from home, running to another town, or having to go get more drugs for himself or his gang. The guesses from others made you sick; you felt that they were all lies.

You didn’t want to believe you were smitten with the guy, but Rhys did seem to always appear in the back of your mind, even when you were getting on with your life and work. He always seemed to be there.

You were in your kitchen alone at night, sorting out the bins that needed to be taken out for the next morning, but you had left it all to the last minute, and now it was too late and dark to head out to put them out.

Sighing and begrudgingly doing it, you tied the last of the bags and unlocked your back door to throw them away, no much really light helping you see; only from the large full moon that was out.

People were always so quick to spread tales in your town, of myths and monsters, and it wasn’t the first time they mentioned wolves. Wolves bigger than horses, hungrier and more fierce, raiding people’s homes or destroying lands.

There were apparent disruptions and mentions of raids of bins but you only assumed it could’ve been from foxes or even coyotes.

You had just thrown the last bin in when you had heard it; the most guttural sound that sounded like a blend of a growl and snarl.

It thrummed in the air and shook the ground you stood on, the sound more fierce from what you had heard from Toby when he was protective or scared, and more so deeper than a dog.

You turned round to face the sable backyard, of utter blackness and nothing but leaves and bushes and endless abyss of the woods, your eyes finally adjusting to something that could’ve made you believe it had been just a cat.

But what cat had eyes so big?

The house rattled with the shaking of an earthquake, that shook through the ground like a rising wave waiting to crash, through your entire being. Whatever it was, it was big.

And these eyes, they were wide and bright as ambers and honey, the colour that contrasted greatly through the darkness. They were large and squinted and the sound of snarling brought you to know you were being threatened.

You gripped to the stairs back to get to your door, the first step always seems too high and too far for you to reach, and one mistake could send the creature hurtling towards you with more speed than when Toby sprinted.

The creature’s fur was contrasted with a slight difference in the darkness: its fur was large and shaggy, the colour of ink the more your eyes adjusted to its shape appearing in front of you.

A wolf, the size bigger than anything you had seen before, slinked into the small light of your back garden, paws bigger than your entire head. Its head was hunched forward, prowling muscular arms treading slowly and carefully towards you, black fur the texture of a garden brush.

You leant back as far as you could, aware that you were letting off a pheromone that brought out your fear: and you knew this wolf was aware it could smell it on you.

The wolf stared you down, not doing anything to warn you off now the closer it got, and those amber eyes were enough to make you almost buckle to the ground in fear.

Slow and steady. You needed to remind yourself. You were dealing with a wild animal, one that acted differently to other domestic pets, and you didn’t know nor want to imagine how it would act if you did something out of order.

It was practically towering over you, all muscle and height and it made you feel powerless underneath it, trapped under its hardened gaze and intensity of its possible strength.

You left a small whimper out, as its large head came to nudge at your shoulder, the sound you didn’t want to let out to let it know you were rather scared, as you watched with no knowledge of what it could do next.

It inched closer to you, its warm wet and pink tongue suddenly started lapping at your arm, then your neck and finally and rough lick from your jawline up towards the end of your brow.

You grimaced. Was it now tasting you for taste? You pushed at its brawny chest to get some space, as the soft sound coming from the wolf as you pressed your hand away in dread.

It was a warning, one to make sure you didn’t do it again, and when you looked down, you saw flesh, bare flesh to the bone, some that looked to be flaking underneath the sable fur to reveal itself to you; red and bloody.

You realised it was injured, from the lack of wanting to attack you and the growl from earlier was merely just from not knowing if you were a threat or not.

But what about its skin underneath? It looked... so human.

Before you, the onyx wolf collapsed in a giant heap without any warning, and you yelped back in warning. Its large head was resting just before your feet, its eyes drooping as they looked up to you in question.

Please. They were warm and full of emotion, and it gave a long whine when you went to gently touch at it again, hot and blotchy to the touch, you didn’t know what to do.

You stayed with it outside for as long as possible, getting water and blankets when it was needed, but it didn’t drink nor get cold.

You remained, resting into its chest as you waited, waited for any chance it would get better, but you didn’t know if it would be possible.

You were scared, but something was calming and proving to be sending of protective vibes to you as if they would never really hurt you now that you thought about it.

You felt the wolf stir behind you, as if ready to quickly lunge up to its feet, but you felt nothing of it. Again, it stirred and slowly shifted, but nothing more. That was when you heard it, softly and begging, the familiar call for your name.

“Help me.”

“Rhys?” You sat up and bolted like a hare in a field, looking back until you felt like your neck had snapped from the speed. The large beast was no longer laying there, instead, a very naked Rhys, bruised, dirtied and caked in mud, he was bloody and sore all over.

You gathered the blanket up and took him safely indoors, where you took him to your couch and got him as warm as possible, all whilst your mind was swirling and spinning with so many questions.

Rhys must’ve sensed your lack of words, speaking up for you. “I get you’re confused.”

“A bit, or more so I am a lot.” You slowly walked over to sit beside him, a few metres away. “You’re... you turn into a large wolf?”

He grinned softly, as if pained. “I’m what humans call a werewolf. My family and I are the only families that live here.”

You went silent, too silent, and Rhys was leaning closer to you, taking your hands into his cold and dirtied ones, he squeezed on them tightly. “Say something.”

“What is there to say, Rhys?” You blurted, “You’re a werewolf, why were you in my garden?”

“I... I had a fight with one of my brothers... got into a fight with him and he won. I was sent off for the night to go find shelter. thought your place would be the only option.”

You paused, mouth dry with lack of words. You suddenly felt aware of all little details and everything that was going around you, of what you wanted to so badly crawl into a hole and not come out. “You thought I would come and look after you?”

“I dunno. I just thought... you wouldn't judge me, for who or what I was.”

“I wouldn’t.” You squeezed his hands back for emphasis, aware of how small your hands were in his. “But why didn’t you tell me earlier? I was never one to judge anyone.

“I didn’t know how you’d react. Wolves are outcasted from society. I didn’t want you to think I was some... was some kind of monster.” Rhys grumbled softly.

“You’re not a monster, you’re far from one.” You breathed, leaning into him more. “"God, I can’t believe I’m saying this. I like you. I like everything about you, even though I don’t know you that well, but I want to know more about you.”

Rhys blinked, taking in your words, a smile gracing his tanned skin, one that wasn’t a smirk nor arrogant in any way, it looked genuine. “I like you too, and I want to get to know you more.”

He carefully took your face into his hands, cradling you as he lent in first, capturing your lips to his in a nervous kiss. You reciprocated, kissing him back in a sweet kiss, one that you didn’t expect from someone like him.

It was nice to kiss him, to feel wanted and loved, and you could imagine Rhys liked it too.

You pulled away first, much to his dismay, laughing softly as his reaction; the classic puppy dog eyes.

“Come on, I’ll run you a hot bath and get you cleaned off. Then pizza and cuddles, how does that sound?”

He took your hand as you led him out your living room, smiling broadly.

“I’d like that a lot, sugar.”

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#werewolf boyfriend #werewolf male #werewolf x reader #male werewolf x human reader #human reader x monster #male monster #monster modern au #exophilia #monster writing #monster oc #monster boyfriend #monster werewolf #exophilia werewolf

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grimoire-of-seven · 5 years ago

Note

I have a crush on you

PROMPT :: “I have a crush on you..”

Rating: SFW

Words: 350-450 per character

Characters: Demon brothers + MC/Gender-Neutral Reader

Note: Thank you for the request! Although you didn’t specify which character, I took it upon myself to write for all of the demon brothers! It’s a little long so please continue reading under the cut!

LUCIFER

You stood your ground before him, eyes determined to express all these pent up emotions into words. When you arrived at the student council office, Lucifer was busy with several of the student council papers but insisted that he is listening to you.

“Lucifer,” You called out to the black-haired demon infront of you, hands clutching your Devildom Law book for courage, “I have a crush on you.”

“Hmm, yes,” He nodded his head almost automatically, his focus towards the papers unwavering, “You can put your term paper draft on my desk. I shall attend to that shortly after I finish this–”

“I said, ‘I have a crush on you’, Lucifer.” You repeated with a louder and much more resolute voice.

With that, his hands stopped mid-way through putting down one of the stacks. He directed his attention towards you, there was no semblance of an expression in his visage aside from its usual stoicism.

After that one second of shock, Lucifer then smiled at you with… was that pity or sadness in his– “…take that away.”

You gasped his statement, appalled that he dares to tell you how to deal with your feelings. You finally gathered the courage to tell him and he’s telling you to ‘take it away’?!

Within an instant, you made your way to his table and slammed your hand at his desk, “Now, listen here, you little shi–”

Wha-?!

He pulled your necktie with enough force that had you reeling towards him, the tips of your noses barely missing a millimeter.

“I’m just teasing.” He chuckled in delight, those piercing dark eyes staring at yours with such intensity that made your knees weak like jelly. “Time and time again, you amaze me with your honesty.”

Goosebumps trailed your arms as Lucifer’s hand caressed your cheek delicately. If he comes any closer, you’re most certain that he’ll hear the embarrassingly fast beating of your heart. “I like that.”

MAMMON

“Plus four!” Mammon exclaimed in glee, slamming the card in the low coffee table. Before reaching to the deck for four more cards, the white-haired demon stopped you in your tracks and placed yet another identical card, “Another plus four! I change the cards to blue!”

“You can’t stack plus four cards! UNO tweeted that before–”

“We’re using local rules here, dummy, get with the program!” He smugly replied, smirking at you as you reach for eight cards. “Taste my reverse card!”

“Yikes,” You sighed at his beaming energy of mischief, placing a blue card down, “You sure play dirty…”

“I get to ask ya one truth or a dare if I win!” Mammon nodded eagerly at your words as if it’s a compliment to him. He removed another blue card from his deck and exclaimed, “UNO!”

“Greedy… you’re too greedy for victory.” You changed the colour of the cards to yellow in high hopes that his last card isn’t the same.

Please don’t be yellow–

“Got’cha!” Damn.

“Truth or dare?” He asked excitedly with the energy of a toddler on a sugar-high.

He would definitely ask something very private and embarrassing if you chose truth, given that he’s animatedly eager to get you to lose this round. With that in mind, you chose the lesser evil, “Dare.”

“I dare you to tell the truth!”

This stupid idiot… You sighed and nodded, “Fine. But give me the cards, I’ll shuffle it this time.”

“Who are you interested among the seven of us brothers?”

Ah, so that’s what this is. You chuckled, his earlier demeanor making much more sense with his ‘dare’. “No wonder you’re pumped up when I said we should higher the stakes.”

“Ya didn’t wanna bet money!”

“It’s an UNO game, man.”

“So, who is it?” He asked, leaning back to his sofa with crossed-arms as he waited for you to hand him his set of cards, “Maybe if you slide in some cash, I can help you get–”

“He’s quite cute.” You began, taking a card as a starter and waiting for Mammon to put down his first.

“Oh? So that counts out Asmo since he’d beautiful!”

“He makes me laugh a lot.” You smiled, “Reverse card, reverse card, plus four, change colour to yellow.”

“GAH! I don’t have any yellow!!!” Mammon twisted from his seat at the realization of his misfortune, seeing that you only have three cards remaining in your hand. “That can’t be Levi or Lucifer or Satan! Those guys would choke if they’re asked to share a joke. So, it’s either Beel or Belphie, huh!”

You shook your head at his words, placing down another card, “I have a crush on you, Mammon.”

“Wh–” He looked up at you with wide-eyes, “No! Q-Quit playin’ dirty! I ain’t fallin’ for that.”

“Reverse card, UNO,” You stared back at him, eyes never leaving his as you placed your last cards, “I win.”

LEVIATHAN

What does Ruri-chan have that you don’t?

Dejectedly wiping the said figurine with a damp towel, you asked that question to yourself.

You were summoned at Levi’s room earlier that day for some ‘important friend training’ to be facilitated by the purple-haired demon himself… only to find out that he’s cleaning his figures and needed a few more hands on deck.

Why does he like Ruri-chan so much? She’s a fictional character, for god’s sake!

“Hey, Levi,” You started, looking up from your task, “If I say I have a crush on you, what would you do?”

The man in question stared at you for a moment before erupting into a boisterous laughter. “LMFAO,” he spelled in glee, hands waving off your statement as if it’s a mere jest, “That’s the funniest joke I have ever heard from you in a long while lolol.”

“Take this seriously, Levi!” You wrung the damp towel in annoyance and weaponized it against your companion, hitting him by the leg with enough force to have him yelp in pain.

“OW, TF you doing? That hurts!” He rubbed his leg in attempt to stave off the stinging feeling, only to realize your reaction to his answer, “Wait, that wasn’t a joke?”

“Do I look like-?!”

“WTF!? That’s a horrible decision!” Levi exclaimed in disbelief, his eyes scanning your expression for some sort of… mischief in your eyes or a slightly wolfish grin.

But all he saw was that you were genuinely serious - about him and your feelings for him.

“Why?” He breathed out the question, his head thinking of the times when you must’ve raised his intimacy close enough for you to drop that confession bomb on him, “Compared to Lucifer and Asmo, I’m not even the most handsome or popular character in this–”

“We’re not in a game.”

Levi went silent at your words.

Have you done it? Is this finally friendship over?

Panic began rising up your chest as he sat still, unmoving from his position. Before you can speak, he looked at you with a hopeful spark in his expression, “Then… does that mean I can like the main character, too?”

SATAN

Satan had offered to walk home with you together after hearing that Solomon is graciously tutoring you for certain RAD subjects – those that doesn’t exist in the human world. The blonde demon insisted that he doesn’t mind waiting for you given that there are still some things he has to do for the student council.

‘It sounds like an after-school date’, Solomon grinned at you before leaving. You swear, he’s got some sort of voodoo magic radar for your emotions.

Removing the thought of Solomon’s jests before you blush too hard, you thought of confessing to Satan before a certain someone runs his mouth about it. Should you…?

Yeah, it’s better to hear it from you than someone else – namely Solomon.

“Hey, Satan, I have a crush on you.” You told him, as casually as you can without breaking voice.

He stopped in his tracks, looking at you with disbelief. Satan opened his mouth to speak but stopped, taking a moment to think about his words, then simply asked, “Why…?”

Eh? “W-What do you mean ‘why’?”

You couldn’t really answer that. You’ve asked yourself a hundred times why you fell for a demon, the actual personification of Wrath itself, yet you can’t seem to find an answer for yourself. At least, you had no answers aside from… “I just really like you, Satan.”

He continued walking, you can feel the gears of his head turning as he oversees the situation in its logical perspective, “I’m a demon and you’re a human, need I remind you?”

That felt a pang on your chest, hearing him say it even though you are well aware of the fact.

Taking a deep breath to muster up the courage, you asked him for his final verdict, “So, you’re saying you don’t like me back?”

“Yes–!” He answered automatically, but then almost immediately denied, “Well, no.”

Huh. That’s quite confusing.

“I like you, too,” Satan smiled at you for a moment, “But things will be complicated if we think about this logically.”

Scratching the back of your head at his words, you couldn’t help yourself in saying, “When did love become a logical thing, though?”

He blushed at your words, hastening his walking speed to stop you from further seeing his reddened face, “S-Stop being too c-cute! I’m not lending you any more romance novels if you keep being so adorable!”

ASMODEUS

Asmodeus held your hand as if it was the most fragile thing in the world. With great precision, he coated your nails with an even layer of nail polish to match his wonderfully manicured ones.

People adore Asmodeus’ natural charm. What can you say? He’s absolutely flawless and drop-dead gorgeous.

Just thinking about the way his eyes sparkle at the news of Jeffrey Star’s new palette collection. The way he speaks excitedly whenever Prada presents their new line of designer bags. Hell, even talking about hand cream is a treat in itself whenever Asmodeus does it.

Look at you, absolutely whipped for this man and his undeniable charm.

He insists that you’re immune to his beauty yet you’re still attracted to him. It’s unfair to be this handsomely beautiful.

“Asmo, I think I have a crush on you.” You spouted out randomly, feeling his soft warm hands against yours.

“Of course, you do~” He replies as a matter-of-factly, “Everyone lusts over my magnificent–”

“I’m serious, Asmo.” You cut him off from his usual sugar-sweet line, “I like you.”

“Alright, humour me, love,” He put aside the nail polish and intertwined his hands in yours, his face closing towards yours dangerously, “If I accept your confession and we become a couple, what would you like to do with me…?”

With heated cheeks, you opened your mouth to speak but he sensually placed an index finger by your lips, he whispered with that hedonistic tone of his, “In private, that is…”

In private?! Gosh, he’s asking for a lot!

Suddenly feeling parched, you gulp at the thought of what you wanted out of him if he ever accepts you as a partner. Eyes flitting anywhere except towards his, you tried your best to hold your trembling body before him - backing down now might show your lack of conviction towards him, after all.

You mumbled softly, hoping that he can hear you through your closeness, “…ds with you.”

“Tsk tsk,” The peach-haired demon grinned as he clicked his tongue, “I can’t hear you with such a silent voice. You can do better than that~”

“M-Maybe hold h-hands with you… or c-cuddle if y-you want.” You repeated a bit more audibly, your blush deepening by the second, “I-It’d be fun to go o-on a café w-with just the two of us, too.”

“KYAAA~! That’s so wholesome and adorable!!!” Asmodeus squealed in delight at your answer, throwing himself at you in a tight embrace, “Alright, I’ll be your boyfriend and we’ll do all those together~! This is so exciting!”

“No!!! Asmo, my nails!”

BEELZEBUB

From whatever ‘reliable’ and expensive source you’ve heard [definitely not Mammon], Beel apparently loves a certain sandwich menu from Hell’s Kitchen. Unfamiliar with Devildom’s cuisine and Hell’s Kitchen’s menu, you were faced with a dilemma.

The question would be… which one of the three sandwiches in the menu he likes most?

This frustrating situation made you want to curse Mammon for scamming your 100Grimm with this useless piece of information. Sighing at the thought of having to buy all three just for good measure, you saw the Avatar of Gluttony himself walking pass the restaurant.

“Beel!” You exclaimed to get his attention, waving at the tall ginger-haired demon as he looked towards your general direction, “I have a question for you!”

He greeted you with that heart-melting smile of his, eager to answer any inquiries from you. You whisked him away from the street and into the shop, asking, “Which of the sandwiches in the menu do you like most?”

“What for?”

“Just answer the question, please~”

“The one with the tartare and cheese…” He replied, eyes dreamy at the menu board, most possibly captivated by the memory of having such a treat. Beel snapped from his reverie, explaining to you why it’s his most favoured, “It’s like your human food ‘cheeseburger’!”

You nodded and ordered the exact sandwich for him, much to his surprise.

It’s like a date! You inwardly screamed, mentally giving yourself a high-five for taking advantage of this sweet opportunity.

“Let’s split up the sandwich, as thank you for buying me food…”

How sweet! The thought made you want to curl up in the floor and cry in happiness, but resisted, “Come on, let me treat you once in a while!”

You both took a seat on the less conspicuous booths of the store. As Beel ate with glee, you chatted him up, content at the moment both of you were sharing.

“Why’d you *munch* even buy me food?”

“I like you!” You answered without a sliver of a doubt, carried too much at the connection you were sharing at the time. Blinking once… twice, you realized what you’ve done.

Well, fu–

“This food sure is great,” Beel avoided looking at you and continued eating, his face noticeably red from his blushing cheeks.

Groaning in defeat, you buried your face in your hands. It’d be rude to suddenly take back what you’ve said. Stupid me, stupid, stupid–

“I thought I’m hearing things because I’m still hungry.” The ginger-haired demon explained, his hands taking yours and peeling them off from your heated face, “You’re like this sandwich, you know that?”

“W-What…?”

“It’s my favourite, just as you’re my favourite person to be with!”

BELPHEGOR

You stared at Belphegor’s sleeping face, so peaceful and at ease.

It’s hard to think of him as a demon when he’s especially languid like this.

He had invited you to watch a movie that Levi suggested, only to doze off within fifteen minutes of the production, his head perfectly placed by your lap. Deciding that the Avatar of Sloth would rather sleep than watch, you let him sleep to his heart’s content.

The moment the movie ended, you didn’t notice that your lap had fallen asleep with him. Great.

You poked his cheek, seeing if he’ll wake up. “Belphie~” You cooed, “Belphie, wake up… My thighs has fallen asleep with you~”

“Fiv.. m’nutes…” He stirred, making himself much more comfortable on your lap and on the sofa.

“What am I gonna do with you?” You sighed in affection, smiling at his sleeping visage. Similar to Belphegor, you also made yourself comfortable on the sofa despite the stinging feeling by your thighs, “Alright, five more minutes, but only because I like you.”

To your surprise, Belphie spoke again, “Say that again.”

“I said you can have five more minutes, Belphie.”

“No, the second part…”

He heard that?!

You gulped, eyes avoiding his as you slowly repeated, “B-B… Because I like you.”

The raven-haired demon closed his eyes once, turning away from you, “I must be dreaming.” And within seconds, he has fallen asleep again just like that.

“No, Belphie, don’t sleep!” You stood up at his reaction to such an important confession, only to remember that he was formerly sleeping on your lap.

WHOOPS.

“Ow,” He rubbed his head after being unceremoniously thrown out of the sofa, sitting up groggily from all of the commotion, “Okay, so it’s not a dream.”

You sat beside him on the floor and rubbed his head as well, apologizing for it, “Why would think that, though?”

He looked away with a blush, “Because it’s too good to be true…”

1K notes · View notes

let-it-raines · 4 years ago

Text

Walking the Baseline (Year 2012)

Chapter Summary: He’s seen her around. Of course he has. They walk in the same circles, play at all of the same combined tournaments, and they have mutual friends. It’s not until they both win the Australian Open and start talking over Instagram that Killian Jones gets to know Emma Swan. He doesn’t expect one message to turn into more, and he certainly doesn’t expect to find himself knowing who Emma is when she’s not got a racket in her hands.

Even more, he doesn't expect to let her know who he is off the court when that's a secret he holds close to the vest.

Rating: Teen-ish.

a/n: I told you guys I had more Walking the Baseline coming, and I meant it! I did not expect you guys to be so excited about this universe, but you’re always blowing me away! So, here’s their story for part of the year 2012, four years before the events of Walking the Baseline and the RIO Olympics.

You do not need to have read the original one-shot to understand. If you haven’t, well, that just means you’ll be surprised with the ending of this collection 😂

Found on AO3: 2012 | 2013 | 2014 | 2015 | 2016 (Part One) | 2016 (Part Two)

-/-

2012.

“You look nice, Swan.”

She’s standing in front of him in a pair of long white paints and a matching white shirt that bares her midriff. Her lips are painted red, her blonde hair long and curled. It’s different to how he usually sees her, but the same can be said for him as he adjusts his jacket sleeves. They spend their lives in athletic wear with sweat an almost constant companion. They do not spend their lives dressed up like this.

“Same to you. How are you not dripping in sweat?”

“Oh, I bloody well am. It’s hidden under the jacket.”

Emma laughs and flips her hair off her neck. “Damn Australian summers. Been trying to kill me since I was eighteen.”

“But now you’re the queen of the court. Congratulations, by the way. That was a damn good match.”

She smiles and adjusts her trophy as he does the same, the flashes of photographers surrounding them and the water behind them. They’ve both done their individual photographs but are now doing promotion for the tournament and Nike, their clothing sponsor. Killian has the beginnings of a long flight today, and Emma has an even longer one to America. He believes she lives in Florida, but it could also be New York. Maybe California. He’ll ask Ariel if she knows, because he already knows she will have the answer to every question he asks. His manager knows everything there is to know about everybody. Somewhere in that brain of hers, Ariel Fisher has a file on Emma Swan that Killian has never bothered to ask about.

It’s not that he’s never been intrigued. She’s a damn good tennis player and a successful one at that. He’s watched her rise to the top of their sport for years now, and while they’ve done a few photo shoots and charity matches together, they’re never talked much outside of a professional capacity. He knows her brother is her coach and she’s close to Ruby Lucas, another player, and he’s read a little about her upbringing. That’s something she keeps close to the vest, but he gets it. He does the same thing. That isn’t the easiest when you’re on the world’s stage like they are. Now, everyone has to know the details of personal lives of athletes, and it makes staying private difficult when you have to brand yourself to get sponsors. Killian would rather run for five hours over doing an interview, especially now that he’s given twenty interviews since the championship last night.

It’s media overload in every way.

“Congratulations to you. I may have slept through half your match, but what I saw was good.”

“Thanks,” Killian laughs, scratching his chin. “I’m terrified that if I sit down, I won’t be able to get back up.”

“Oh, that’s definitely a risk. David had to slide me out of the bed this morning. I’m only wearing this because I was too lazy to shave. I was pretty sure I’d have to have help.”

He bites his tongue to keep from making the comment he wants to make and turns back to the camera, smiling and nodding, following the rest of the instructions. He and Emma are quickly pulled in different directions to finish out their obligations, and before he knows it, he’s on a plane, flying away from Australia. It’s been a month since he’s been home, and Oxshott has never seemed so good even if there is no one at home waiting to greet him.

-/-

Killian grabs a sweater from the shelf, pulling it over his shoulders, and heads downstairs where he fixes himself a cup of tea and settles on his couch, his television playing in the background. It’s been a long day. His first day back training after a week break nearly killed his knees, but that’s over now. He’s put in his time on the court and at the gym, and no one is going to bother him for the rest of the day. He’s muted Ariel’s name in his phone, and if she really needs him, she’ll call him from Eric’s phone.

God does he hope she doesn’t need him tonight.

Nemo better not either because Killian does not want to see his coach’s face again until early tomorrow morning.

Despite his sweater, he’s still chilled. Going from an Australian summer to a British winter is quite the adjustment. It’s nearly as bad as the jetlag.

Killian’s phone dings in his hand, and he dreads what message he’s surely gotten. He expects it to be Ariel from Eric’s phone, but it’s an Instagram message.

@EmmaSwan: Whoever said @KillianJones was photogenic needs to take a serious look at these photos.

He looks at the photographs, and it’s a series of horribly awkward faces he’s made. He remembers this moment of the shoot. A bug kept trying to fly into his mouth, and at one point, it succeeded. Emma looks great in them, laughing with a bright smile, and she’s right: there’s no part of him that’s photogenic there.

@KillianJones: So you’re saying there are people out there who think I’m photogenic?

Her reply comes instantly.

@EmmaSwan: Well, there were! ;)

Killian laughs and then clicks on her profile, scrolling through. She has several pictures from her win, a few training videos, but mostly it’s pictures of her with some of the women she’s friends with on tour or her brother and sister-in-law. His page is so different in that it’s made up of a majority of tennis photos. He doesn’t share much about his personal life there because there isn’t much to share lately, and when there was, he didn’t want the world to know who he was dating. They did, of course. There were few ways to hide it all when he had photographers literally hiding in bushes, but he imagines if it was a relationship he truly held sacred, he would find a way to keep it hidden away.

Milah was the last person he would have wanted that with, but she was a fan of the attention. She still is if what he sees around is any indication. She married some older man who is worth millions, but other than that, Killian tries not to keep up with her. Some days it goes better than others, but being disconnected from the world does help.

Social media definitely doesn’t.

And after looking at Emma’s profile a little more carefully, he realizes her profile is more private than he thought. In some way, every photo that has a person in it relates back to tennis.

Killian exits out of the app and goes to the link Ariel sent him of all the photos from his shoot with Emma. He clicks on it and tries to find one where she looks bad. It takes awhile, damn gorgeous woman, but he eventually finds one where the wind blew her hair in front of her and she’s making an awful face. It’s perfect, and Killian quickly saves it and a nicer photo to his phone before uploading them to Instagram.

@KillianJones: @EmmaSwan, if only your serve was as big as your hair.

@EmmaSwan direct messaged you.

@EmmaSwan: My serve stats are better than your serve stats.

@KillianJones: Lies.

@EmmaSwan: Okay, well, my hair is also better than your hair.

@KillianJones: Eh, I wouldn’t say that either.

@EmmaSwan: My ass is better than your ass.

@KillianJones: Now, I will fully agree with that.

@EmmaSwan: Isn’t it, like, midnight in England? What are you doing up, old man?

@KillianJones: Watching TV and having a cuppa. Truly exciting times here.

@EmmaSwan has added a picture to this chat.

It’s a shot of her legs, her feet resting on the court. There’s a pool of sweat underneath her, and he is not jealous. It’s February, and while he knows she lives in south Florida – he did ask Ariel – it shouldn’t be warm enough for anyone to sweat that much unless they put in a massive amount of effort.

He must be getting old for this game if just thinking about that makes him want to retire, but there’s no way in hell that’s happening anytime soon. He told Liam he would play until he no longer had a passion for the game.

That hasn’t happened yet.

@EmmaSwan: I’m making my mark on this court. I cannot wait to be in my pajamas watching TV tonight. If I can get up from this chair.

@KillianJones: I’m sure you can slide home in that lovely pool of sweat.

@EmmaSwan: Honestly, I have thought about it.

@EmmaSwan: I’ve got to practice my shitty serve, but I’ll think of smacking your face every time I do it. I’m sure my numbers will be higher than ever.

@KillianJones: Anything I can do to help.

-/-

“How do you eat your strawberries?”

“With my fingers,” Killian says, arching his brow at such a ridiculous question.

“You’re supposed to say with cream.”

Killian spins around behind him, and he immediately sees Emma Swan walking toward him. He hasn’t seen her in months as the tours haven’t had a joint tournament since Australia, but they’ve been chatting pretty regularly over Instagram. He’s never liked the app, but it’s one of his most used ones now.

“Excuse me, lass?”

“You’re doing a promotion for Wimbledon, idiot. They want all of us to say we eat our strawberries with cream.”

“I actually don’t love the cream.”

Emma mock gasps, covering her chest with her hands, before stepping up to him and giving him a quick hug he’s sure is for the cameras surrounding them. “Well, they should kick you out of England for saying something like that.”

“Believe me, they’ve tried, but I chained myself to the ground to keep it from happening.”

“I’m sure we could find you a place here if we had to.”

“Your place?” Killian jokes.

“In your dreams, Jones.” Emma widens her smile before turning to the camera. “I’d eat my strawberries with cream, just in case you want to use me for the promotions instead of this shameful excuse for a Brit.”

“Actually,” the producer behind the camera says, “we have a game that we’d love for the two of you to play together if you want. We usually don’t have two of the bigger names up here at once.”

“What’s the game?” Emma asks.

“It’s basically beer pong.”

Emma tilts her head back with laughter and claps her hands together. “Oh, I’m good at this. You’re going down, Jones.”

“Nice to see your competitive spirit doesn’t die off the court.”

“It never does.”

Emma shrugs and walks over to where they have a ping pong table set up on the roof of this building. Killian gets to travel a lot of beautiful places for his job, and while he doesn’t get to explore a lot of them, he does get to take in the view. He’ll never get over the oasis that is Palm Springs with its mountains going as far as the eye can see with palm trees and lush vegetation filling in so many other gaps. There’s a hell of a lot of desert, but considering Killian only goes between the tournament and his hotel, he doesn’t see that. For him, it’s all about the oasis.

“You ready?” Emma asks as they settle at opposite ends of the table. “It’s going to be a challenge to beat me.”

He winks and leans forward, hovering over the cups of water. “I do so love a challenge.”

-/-

“I mean, I wouldn’t say that you had a bad reputation.”

Killian rolls his eyes and toes his trainers off, kicking them across his hotel room in Monte Carlo. He pulls his phone away from his ear and puts it on speaker so he can change clothes while Emma talks.

“Then what would you say, love?”

He imagines she shrugs, and if he wasn’t disgustingly sweaty despite his shower at the club, he’d video call her instead of this. “I would say you had a colorful reputation.”

“For fuck’s sake, that’s the same thing.”

“No, no, it’s not,” Emma sighs. “It’s…”

“Swan, I was on the verge of getting all my sponsorships taken away at the age of twenty-two. I’d barely gotten started, and I nearly fucked it all up by drinking too much and being enough of an idiot to do it in public.”

“And now you’re England’s poster boy for all sports, so at least from a publicity standpoint, it’s all okay.”

She’s right. He knows she’s right, and he appreciates being talked down after an awful contract negotiation with one of his sponsors and what will surely be an equally awful conversation with Ariel later. They decided that they suddenly had issues with some shit he pulled six years ago, and he’s tired of having to explain himself to people.

His fucking brother died, and Killian didn’t handle it well. How is anyone supposed to handle that, let alone a twenty-two-year-old whose only family was that brother? It was too much, and while he didn’t tank his career, he did derail it, drinking and sleeping around and making horrible choices for his body. There are times when he still wants to do that, but he knows better now. His grief is private, and the world will never see it again unless it’s on his terms.

“My brother’s life was taken because of a drunk driver, and, you know, I’d give up all the sponsorships to have him back. I’d give it all up. And I know I did a piss poor job at dealing with my grief by getting drunk just like the man who killed him, even if I never got behind the wheel, but what was I supposed to do? It hurt too much to not be dulled.”

The other end is silent, and he focuses on his own breathing. It’s heavy now, and he can feel his heart thumping. He hates this feeling. He hates talking about his past, and he damn well hates having to talk about Liam like this.

He’s got no fucking clue why he’s talking about it with Emma, but she called right after the meeting and he spilled his guts out of frustration.

“I never met your brother,” Emma says so quietly he can barely hear her, “but if he was anything like mine, I can guarantee that he’d be proud of you for getting through it and continuing to move forward. Life sucks, Jones, and we all deal with those sucky moments in different ways. I, for one, eat massive amounts of icing and candy. I have an entire stash in a drawer in my bathroom so David can’t find it and scold me for it.”

Killian huffs and reaches up to yank his shirt off before falling back on the bed. He tugs on his hair before blowing it off his cheek. He needs a haircut.

“You keep icing in your bathroom? That seems unsanitary.”

“I promise it’s very secure.”

Killian hums and more silence falls between them. He doesn’t feel the need to fill it, but he does anyway. “I live alone, so I think I may not need to hide my icing stash. I’d have to get one first.”

“Cream cheese is the way to go. It’s, like, two dollars and all the calories are so worth it.”

“Have you ever considered making it at home?”

“I would give myself food poisoning. I can’t really cook.”

“No?”

“Absolutely not. Never learned how to do anything past the basics, and I’m not home enough to try. When I do, Mary Margaret always takes over so I don’t get food poisoning.”

“Where are we together next? Rome?”

“Madrid,” Emma sighs, and he hears a dog bark in the background. He’s sure she doesn’t have a dog, but maybe someone she’s with has one. Or she’s walking around her neighborhood. He never did ask what she was doing. Instead, he immediately started bitching about his sponsor meeting, and then they ended up here. Most of their conversations veer off track, so it’s nothing he isn’t used to. “I get there Monday.”

“I think the same unless I lose early here.”

“You best not. I have money on you.”

“Well, that’s a good way to get yourself suspended.”

Emma laughs, and Killian stretches out on the bed, flexing his feet. “Well, if you don’t tell anyone, I think I’ll be okay.”

“I swear I shall not say a word. Also, Swan, I don’t think we’ll have access to a kitchen in Madrid, but when we get to Rome, I’ll cook you something.”

“If I’m in Rome, I’m not wasting a dinner on your cooking.”

“We can eat two dinners then,” Killian suggests.

“I like that idea.” The dog barks again in the background, louder this time. “I have to go. My neighbor’s dog is walking over this way, and I have to give him my full attention.”

“Bye, love.”

“Talk to you later, Jones!”

The phone goes silent, and Killian closes his eyes. It’s been a rough day for a myriad of reasons, and all he wants is to sleep. His call with Emma has calmed him, as they usually do, but that’s something he often doesn’t like admitting to himself.

Getting involved with Emma would be complicated, and Killian isn’t sure he can do complicated anymore.

His phone buzzes, and he opens one eye to look at the message.

Ariel Fisher: I’m coming to talk to you because you stormed off.

Ariel Fisher: I have the key to your room, so make sure you’re dressed.

Ariel Fisher: I’m bringing dinner, so I know you at least kind of want to see me.

Killian Jones: I’m in the nude, and I’m not changing for you.

Ariel Fisher: It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.

Killian Jones: That is your fault for walking into my bathroom without knocking.

-/-

Killian wins in Monte Carlo, and it feels good to have a trophy for the first time since late January. It’s only April now, and he’s only played three tournaments since Australia. Yet, he had higher expectations for himself for this year. It’s a great year by anyone’s standards, but Killian has really focused on his training this year. He wants another record year like two years ago, and if he keeps this momentum going, maybe he can do that.

That year, he’d worked off the motivation of heartbreak. This year, he’s trying to work off the motivation of doing something for himself.

Whatever keeps him in the game.

Whatever keeps him loving what he does like Liam asked him to do.

-/-

The thing about Killian’s job is that he’s constantly surrounded by bloody people. From when he’s playing a match to doing press to sitting in the living room of the houses and apartments he rents for some tournaments when he doesn’t want to stay in a hotel. Sometimes the only times he has to think are when he’s on court, which is ridiculous because that’s when he’s surrounded by the most people and is supposed to be focusing on his plan for the next point.

Tonight, Killian had planned on having Emma over for dinner, but Ariel, Eric, Will, and Rob have all shown up and are sitting on his couch watching the television and he’s desperately trying to get Emma to pick up her phone before she arrives. He’s sure Nemo and Al could show up any second by the way things are going.

“Hello?”

“Swan!”

“Hey, I was just about to get a car from the hotel to your place. Everything okay?”

Killian sighs and massages his fingers over his forehead. “It seems my team and my mates have decided they’re spending the night with me, so if you want to stay at the hotel, I would understand.”

“Oh?”

“Aye. Of course, you can still come if you want.”

“Is there still going to be food?”

“Absolutely, but I don’t think I’ll be cooking it.”

“Then I’m coming,” Emma laughs. “Would you mind if I brought some people over as well? I can pay for their dinners.”

“The more the merrier,” Killian says, even if that is not how he intended his night to go. “See you soon, love.”

Killian walks back to the living area and settles down in an armchair, bracing himself for the onslaught of questions he’s about to get. “Emma Swan is coming over for dinner. She’s bringing people with her. I don’t know who yet, but I know she is.”

Slowly, everyone turns and stares at him, and Killian is already dreading everything about tonight.

“Why the fuck is Emma Swan coming over?” Will asks as everyone else nods. “I didn’t even know you knew her.”

“How would I not know her?”

“Oi, you know what I meant! You know her, but you know her in a way that has you say hello in the hallways, not that you invite her and her mates over to take our food.”

“You were not invited here tonight, Scarlet.”

“I am always invited.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Ariel sighs, holding her hands up between them. “I need more of an explanation. How did this come about? Are you dating Em – ”

“No, A. Bloody hell, no.” Killian stands from the chair and straightens out his t-shirt. “We got to talking about food one day, and I casually invited her over. Believe it or not, I can have other mates besides you lot.”

“Your personality says otherwise,” Rob teases, and Killian rolls his eyes.

“Alright, alright. What should we get delivered for dinner? A little bit of everything?”

“I still have so many questions,” Ariel tells him.

“I have no more answers. I’m going to order food. You guys can keep watching the match.”

“Isn’t this who you play tomorrow?” Rob asks.

“Mhm, but Nemo will take enough notes and give them to me, so I don’t have to watch the match too closely.”

Killian walks away from the living room and goes through the contacts in his phone for the restaurants he likes, and once he settles on one, he orders several meals for delivery, chatting with the owner and promising her he’ll be in to see the entire team before he leaves Rome.

There’s a knock on the door, and Killian glances out the kitchen window. He can see Emma, Emma’s brother, and her sister-in-law. He was expecting Ruby Lucas and Anna Jergenson, but he shouldn’t be surprised. Her family is nearly always with her.

Ariel gets to the door before he does, hugging and greeting everyone. She knows David and Mary Margaret from constantly working with Mary Margaret over management collaborations, and while this is a large industry, there is always going to be overlap amongst certain people.

“David, nice to see you,” Killian says, walking into the room and taking David’s hand before kissing Mary Margaret’s cheeks. “Mary Margaret, beautiful as ever. Hey, Swan.”

“What? Am I not as beautiful as ever?” she jokes as she embraces him. “I got all dressed up for this. I’m wearing leggings that don’t have any holes in them.”

“I thank you for your effort.” He pulls back and winks. “I’m sorry for the slight change of plans, but I guess I’ll give you food poisoning another day.”

“Can’t wait.”

Killian guides them into the living room, where it’s a mess of greetings and jumbled conversation, and Killian settles himself back in the chair in the corner, watching everyone talk. They’re in the middle of one of the busiest stretches of the season, and it’s nice to have a night where he can relax. He has a match tomorrow and possibly even more depending on how tomorrow goes, but he tries to forget about those. That’s something Killian is still working on. Liam was the one who usually made him forget, and while his mates, many of them under the same pressures, do a damn good job, there are rarely times when his mind doesn’t race with the possibilities of how everything good in his life can slip away.

Killian rents this house in Rome every year because it was Liam’s favorite, so this week is always a particularly difficult one when everything reminds him of his brother.

When the food arrives, Killian spreads it around the kitchen and gets out a few bottles of wine. He won’t drink tonight, but others might want to. They fill their plates and settle back in the living room, the match that was at the forefront now in the background as Rob and Will take the piss out of each other for how badly the mangled the Italian language while asking for directions earlier today.

“I didn’t grow up speaking two languages! I’m still learning!” Will grumbles.

“You trained in Italy for most of your childhood.”

“I have no excuses for Italian, I know. I do speak French pretty well.”

“Oi, and none of us have to wonder why that is,” Rob laughs.

“You’re all wankers.”

“Why does Will know French?” Emma asks him from her seat next to him.

“His girlfriend is from France.”

“Ah,” Emma sighs, picking up a piece of ravioli and putting it in her mouth. “This is delicious. Much better than whatever it was you were planning on cooking.”

“I’m going to prove you wrong one day.”

She shrugs and puts her plate down on the coffee table next to her glass of wine. “If you say so. Where’s the restroom?”

Killian points to the hallway behind the kitchen. “Second door on the right.”

Emma nods and stands from her seat, walking away toward the bathroom. He gets a notification on his watch that he’s got a text from Nemo, and it looks like a long one. Sighing, Killian moves away from the conversation and down the hall to his bedroom so he can text Nemo back. It’s an analysis of his opponent for tomorrow, and Killian skims through it. He’ll read it more in the morning since his match isn’t until the afternoon, but if he doesn’t text Nemo back now, he’ll call until Killian does. The man is a damn good coach, but he can also be high-strung.

The bedroom door clicks behind Killian as he closes it, and at the same time, Emma leaves the bathroom. The two of them are nearly pressed together in the close quarters of the hallway, and Killian aligns himself against one wall while Emma does the same with the other. Still, he can feel her foot brush against his, and he is close enough to see the freckles on her face.

Those freckles are what have himself tilting closer, his breath intertwining with hers, and for every movement he makes, Emma makes an equal one, the voices in the background fading away as Killian focuses on the flutter of Emma’s lashes and the subtle twitch of her lips. He mirrors her, curling up one corner of his mouth and teasingly tapping his lips.

“Please,” she laughs, “you couldn’t handle it.”

“Perhaps you’re the one who couldn’t handle it.”

Emma studies him as heat swirls around them and tickles up his spine, pulling him closer to her. He watches her, waiting to see if she’ll do something, but he expects her to make a joke, to turn away like she sometimes does when things get a little too serious between them when they’re talking in person instead of over the phone. She doesn’t always do that, not when he’s the one sharing, but when it comes to her, she’s more guarded, holding everything deep within.

Emma Swan is constantly subverting expectations, however, so when she pulls on the collar of his shirt and tugs his mouth to hers, he takes a moment to reciprocate.

Bloody fucking hell.

Emma is kissing him.

And she’s damn good at it too. Killian reaches up to thread his fingers through her hair, pulling and tugging until he can take a little of the control back from her. She’s a demanding one, and while he can’t say he minds, he would like a little control too. Her lips are soft, and she tastes of wine and the spices of her ravioli. He could get lost in it all, especially when she moans in response to him backing her up against the wall. Her back arches, and Killian rolls his hips as Emma’s kiss teases him. The friction is fucking amazing, and it would be so easy to take a few steps to the right to his bedroom and…

Suddenly, Emma pulls back, lingering in his space, breath hot against his skin, and Killian can feel a smile tugging at his kiss swollen lips.

“That was – ” Killian mutters, leaning in to kiss her again.

“A one-time thing,” Emma quickly tells him, shoving at his chest until he backs away, a mountain of space between them. “I’m going to go back to the living room. Actually, I think I need to go home. I have an early training session tomorrow.”

“Swan – ”

“Thank you for dinner. It was great.”

Then she’s gone, blonde hair falling away, and Killian can’t move from his spot, standing there with his fingers against his lips. He listens to her tell David and Mary Margaret she’s ready to go, listens to her telling everyone goodbye, and then she’s gone, the front door shutting behind her.

What the hell just happened.

And when did he fall halfway in love with Emma Swan?

Fuck.

“What happened to your hair?” Ariel asks when Killian gets the strength in his legs to walk back to the living room.

“Nemo,” he lies. “His analysis for tomorrow had me tugging on it.”

Ariel studies him like she doesn’t believe him, but then she’s back to drinking her wine and talking to Eric, her life going on as normal even when his isn’t.

-/-

He gets blown out of the water in his match the next day.

He can’t compartmentalize his thoughts, putting the personal behind him and the professional in front of him. That’s been the key to all of his success. No matter what’s going on in his personal life, he can always lace up his trainers and take the court, leaving all of that behind him.

Today, it’s like everything that’s happened to him in the past decade has come flooding back, and Killian wants nothing more than the floodgates to stop.

-/-

Emma doesn’t respond to any of his texts.

He pretends it doesn’t bother him as his team leaves Rome and flies to Paris, immediately preparing for Roland Garros. Killian can fuck around at other tournaments on occasion, but he can’t do it at a major. There are only a handful of those to go around, the importance of them will never be lost on him.

Even if sliding across the clay is the last thing he wants to do right now.

“Smaller steps,” Nemo yells from his place on the sidelines. “You’re going to fuck up your ankle if you run like that.”

Killian adjusts his footwork and keeps moving, sweat slicking down his back as the crowds around the practice courts fill in while more players keep showing up. When he sees long blonde hair in her trademark braid three courts over, his step nearly falters.

It doesn’t.

He can’t.

If Emma is going to put distance between the two of them, he’ll let her. He had a life long before he began talking to Emma Swan, and he’ll have one if she never talks to him again.

He’s a liar if he says that his world would be anything other than miserable for awhile.

-/-

Killian crashes out in the quarterfinals of Roland Garros, and he immediately puts it behind him, bracing his shoulders for a month of grass court tournaments in his own country, where the pressure is always highest.

Sometimes it can be suffocating, but he has to do it.

-/-

“Okay, now that you’ve answered all of our questions, we want to show you a little video clip,” Chris McKendry tells him while Killian adjusts the mic resting on his ear.

“It’s never good when you tell me that, Chris.”

She laughs, as fake as always, but Killian goes along with it. “I promise you’ll enjoy this one.”

A producer for ESPN hits play on the video, and Killian keeps his eyes glued to the screen even as someone slides several bowls of strawberries and cream in front of him. The video of he and Emma from California plays on the screen, all of the promotional work the two of them did that day after she took the piss out of him for his answer to how he ate strawberries and cream. Killian forces a smile on his face, not allowing the cameras to see him slip, because this is what he does now. He’s a perfectly polished PR machine. If he’s going to show emotions other than happiness, they’re going to be either on the court or behind the scenes with no cameras rolling. They are certainly not going to be here.

“So, Killian,” Chris laughs as the video rolls, “we thought it would be fun to bring you some strawberries and cream with a spoon to eat them.”

Killian chuckles and takes the spoon, scooping up a large helping of the strawberries and cream and eating it. It’s not bad. He doesn’t like it, but it’s not the worst thing he’s ever had to eat because someone has asked him to. And the faster he plays along, the faster he can get out of here.

“I think I’ve got it right now,” he jokes, “though I know my last answer went viral because I failed all of Britain with it.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that, but we are giving you this chance to redeem yourself so you can have this crowd behind you for the fortnight. With your draw, I think you might need it.”

“Draws don’t always hold up, but nevertheless Chris, I’m ready for the challenge.”

“You always are.”

-/-

She’s fucking incredible to watch.

She moves with grace but with incredible power underneath her feet and determination set between her brows. Her play gets better with every match she plays, and Killian is mesmerized by it even if he’s been avoiding her matches over the past few weeks. But now she’s on Centre Court, and her match is playing on the screen above his bike where he’s cooling down from his match. There is no avoiding it, and he can’t say he wants to at the minute. He’s obviously a glutton for punishment.

He’s seen her draw, knows that it’s just as difficult as his, and while she might not win here, the Olympics are just around the corner on these same courts. He can’t imagine her not winning at least one of the two.

Then again, he is aware of his bias, but he is also aware of Emma’s skill.

Killian grabs his phone and takes a picture of her match, posting it on his Twitter, which Ariel has told him he has to use more since he “needs to interact with people online.”

@KillianJones: She’s graceful like a swan but also just as vicious. What a match to watch on my cool down. @Emmaswan is the type of player every kid should try to emulate when they pick up a racket

It’s an olive branch.

If she doesn’t take it, Killian will be fine. He may have fallen hard and fast, but that doesn’t mean Emma did. She is free to take things at her own pace, whatever that may mean for the two of them.

-/-

@emmaswan mentioned you in a tweet.

Killian swipes across his screen and opens Twitter, where he sees a picture of yesterday’s match. It’s from high above in what is obviously a private room, but it’s still clearly him on court, pumping his fist after a big point, the crowd standing all around.

@EmmaSwan: @KillianJones, I don’t think any of these people like you. You should try to get them on your side.

He laughs and falls back on his couch. He’s not well liked in a lot of places, but in his home country, he knows that as long as he’s winning, he has the country behind him.

No pressure.

@KillianJones: @EmmaSwan maybe you could help me out. How do I get the crowd to like me?

@EmmaSwan: @KillianJones cook them a home-cooked meal. It’s the way to everyone’s heart.

Killian nearly drops his phone. She’s joking. She has to be. This is the first time he’s so much as talked to Emma in weeks, and she either doesn’t realize the magnitude of her words or is sending him a clear message.

Emma has never cared much for subtly.

He closes out of Twitter and texts her, hoping he’s not fucking up the olive branch she took by snapping it in half.

Killian Jones: I’m making salmon tonight. It’s just me here tonight. I promise. Do you want to come over for dinner?

Emma Swan: How good is your salmon?

Killian Jones: It’s good.

Emma Swan: I’ll be there.

-/-

Emma Swan walks into his home like she belongs there. She steps inside his front door, removes her trainers, and easily walks to him in the kitchen, propping her hip against the counter while he prepares dinner. They talk, mostly about work, and Killian tries to act as unaffected by her presence as possible. The last time they were this close to each other, he had Emma pressed up against a wall. It’s been over a month since then with very little communication, and Killian constantly feels like a bucket of ice has been dropped over him.

He still doesn’t believe she’s here when he is clearly having a conversation with her.

They eat dinner on his couch, the television turned low in the background, and the conversation stays stilted. If Killian is honest, he wants to sink into the cushions and have this night be over with, but he knows better. Either this night firmly cuts the ties between them, or it ties the string back together.

He knows which one he wants, but he dare not speak for Emma.

“This is really good,” Emma says as she scoops up some of her remaining salad. “Thanks for cooking.”

“Thanks for coming over.”

“It’s a really nice place. I bet it must be nice to be able to stay home for a month while still working.”

“Yeah, it is.” Silence falls between them again, but it’s not comfortable, not like it used to be. “Look, Swan, I – ”

She holds up her hands and places the plate in front of her on his coffee table before twisting around and crossing her legs under her on the couch. “Don’t.”

“Pardon?”

“Don’t say it. Don’t apologize for doing something wrong when I’m the one who made out with you and then ran away. I fucked things up between us, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Do you want to fix it?” he suggests, knowing the line he walks is thin.

Emma shrugs, sheepish smile on her lips. “I don’t know. I don’t – I mean, I like…you’re…we’re…I don’t know, Killian. I am obviously not the most emotionally aware person, but I care. I care about my family, my friends…you. I care about you. Like, a lot, which was unexpected.” She leans forward and buries her face in her hands, all of her words coming out muffled. “I don’t know how I can do this without messing things up between us where we’ll be avoiding each other while having to walk the same circles.”

Killian arches his brow and stifles his laugh. He shouldn’t be laughing. This isn’t funny, but there is something comical about it.

“What I’m hearing is that you fancy me.”

Emma peeks out from behind her hands, and she glowers at him. “Seriously?”

Killian shrugs and leans forward, grabbing her hands and slowly intertwining their fingers. “I have no bloody idea what I’m doing either, and I don’t mean to upset you Emma. I really don’t. But we make quite the team. I think it would be foolish not to try, but I’ll do whatever you want.”

“That’s really fucking unfair to make me make the decision.”

“If I did, you would find a way to turn it around on me.”

She digs her nails into his palm, but he doesn’t flinch. “Asshole.”

“I would agree with that assessment most of the time.”

Emma rolls her eyes, but there’s also determination there, green, blue, and gold all mixed together to create the emotions hidden just below the surface. “We don’t tell anyone. Like, no one. I don’t like my private life to be public, and if we tell other people, it’ll become public. I’m already risking a hell of a lot possibly being with someone who I’ll have to see on tour if things get fucked up, so I want a safety net even if this doesn’t solve every issue.”

“You’re a romantic.” She parts her lips to protest, and he squeezes her hands, leaning forward and lingering in her space, closing half the gap. “But I agree with you, wholeheartedly. I was with this woman, and – ”

“We don’t have to talk about our pasts right now. I’ve got a match at one tomorrow, so we sure as hell don’t have time to get through everything. I’m also not entirely sure I trust you with everything yet.”

“You shouldn’t,” Killian half jokes as his lips ghost over hers, “but I hope to earn it.”

“Good,” Emma whispers, wrapping her arms around Killian’s neck and pulling him those final few inches toward her until her lips are softly gliding over his, pulling him under as pleasure trickles up his spine.

Good. This is all damn good.

They have no idea what they’re getting into, but Killian can’t wait to figure it all out.

-/-

tag list (you can be added/removed at any time: @qualitycoffeethings @mrtinski @klynn-stormz @scarletslippers @jonirobinson64 @snowbellewells @therealstartraveller776 @thejollyroger-writer @sherifemma @galaxyzxstark @galadriel26 @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @teamhook @spartanguard @searchingwardrobes @jamif @shireness-says @ultimiflos @nikkiemms @onepunintendid @bluewildcatfanatic @superchocovian @killianswannn @carpedzem @captainkillianswanjones @mayquita @mariakov81 @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @a-faekindagirl @scientificapricot @xellewoods @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @singersdd @tornadoamy @cluttermind @lfh1226-linda @itsfabianadocarmo @iam2307 @capthamm @ilovemesomekillianjones @kktabjones @jonesfandomfanatic @ouatxxxxx

#walking the baseline #walking the baseline series #cs fic #cs ff #cs fanfic #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #captain swan fanfic #Captain Swan

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the-hopeless-haze · 4 years ago

Text

Someone Who, Like it Or Not, Will Want You to Share a Little a Lot

BEING ALIVE Chapter 9

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

A/N: This is my submission for @thatesqcrush kink bingo square praise!kink. Also this chapter went a lot different than I originally planned but it just hit me like a ton of bricks so I hope it’s clear what I’m going for. IDK time to flip the script a little! Also if you saw this posted and disappear it’s because tumblr hates me ok sorry

Content Warning: Smut (ahah) and vague mentions of past abuse (if you’ve been reading the story you know)

Word Count: 5k (sorry lol)

(also how did I never see this gif before fuck me)

“I got you something,” Rafael says. You’re in his office for a lunch break, making sure he eats the salad you’d made for him. Sometimes he still hates you. When you try and shove lettuce down his throat, well, that’s one of those times. But he knows it’s for his own good, like most things you do with him in mind.

“Ooh, we’re doing birthday gifts already?“ you ask, kissing his cheek. "I figured I’d see you later… you’re coming to the restaurant, right? I really don’t think Sonny knows what ‘surprise’ means, but hey. It’s nice of him and the squad.”

“Yes. I know all about it. He hasn’t left me alone for the past two weeks.”

“Nice to know someone cares about me,” you tease, and Rafael rolls his eyes.

“Well, anyway, I figured I’d see you at lunch today, so I brought this one thing with me. I wanted you to wear it tonight. Don’t worry, cariño, you have plenty of other gifts waiting for you at my place.”

“I told you not to go all out. I’m only turning 26. 35 is the next big one.”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “35? I thought it was 30?”

"No. I think 30 will be just another one. Everyone makes it a big deal because it ends in a 0, but I don’t think it is. 35 is where the line is crossed. That’s when you’re officially middle-aged,” you say, grinning a little.

“Jesus, so what am I? Ancient?”

“No. You’re still middle-aged,” you giggle. “You’re getting there, though.”

“Mm. Right. Remind me why I spent money on you again?”

“Because…” you drawl, pulling him in by his tie to press your lips to his. And oh, it’s a mesmerizing kiss, like most of them are: one of your hands moves to the back of his head, pulling him in ever closer, and you’re slipping your tongue in his mouth, the acidic tinge of the vinaigrette you had been eating just the jolt he needed to get him to grasp for you. His hands slip under your shirt, earning a gasp from you, but Rafael remembers he’s in his office and the shades aren’t drawn and keeps his hands on your waist. You’re not close enough; you’re never close enough. “That’s why. Right?”

“Right. I forgot,” he snickers, pecking your lips. “Do you want your present or not?”

“Of course, honey.”

So he gets up and pulls out a jewelry box from his desk drawer, taking a deep breath, unsure of why he was so nervous. He smiles awkwardly, walking back over to the table and handing it to you.

“Open it, cariño.”

You do, your hands shaking a little as you unlatch the box, revealing a simple, delicate gold chain with an emerald pendant attached to it. You don’t say anything, your eyes watering as you look up at him.

“Do you not like it?” he asks, cursing himself. He should’ve asked you to pick something else out.

“Rafael, I can’t accept this. How much money was this? I can’t…”

“It doesn’t matter. I bought it for you, and I want you to have it. Do you like it, (y/n)?”

“I love it, Rafael, but it’s too much… I told you not to spend too much.”

Who was counting? He wasn’t above sharing his wealth that he’d worked to accrue. It was nice to be able to give, sometimes, and that was the expectation, wasn’t it? It was your birthday, he was your boyfriend, and he would be damned if he was outdone by anyone on the squad tonight.

"Just let me give this to you. Please,” he says. “And don’t cry.” God, you were always crying. Too much. You were an emotional person, and internalized everything, good or bad. He’d have to talk you out of ways you put yourself down frequently, but lately he’s been finding it hard to be bothered by it, because you’d smile after he smoothed out the knots in your mind, and kiss him like you meant it. “Stand up. Let me put it on.”

“Okay,” you whisper, nodding and getting up. “This is the nicest thing…anyone’s ever bought for me. Don’t think I don’t want it, Rafael, I do, but it’s… I was shocked at first. I don’t want to put you out.”

"Shh,” he says, taking the necklace out of the box and pushing your hair aside. He kisses the back of your neck, placing the necklace on your skin and clasping the hook.

“I like the pendant,” you say, fingering it between your pointer finger and thumb. “It reminds me of your eyes. Thank you so much.”

“I’m glad you like it. I’m not in the habit of buying jewelry, really. I never had anyone to buy anything for, so I didn’t know…”

“You have good taste,” you say, turning around and smiling, but then your face falls a little. “But… Rafael… how long?”

“How long what?”

“How long did you live like that? Alone? I mean, after Yelina, did you ever get that close again?”

He sighs, leaning against the table. He doesn’t want to divulge this, but at the same time he feels like he has to share. “There was a man. I was… 35,” he chuckles mirthlessly. “But we didn’t work out. Guess I didn’t get the memo that that’s when I was supposed to have my shit together. And I just… I just gave up after that. I had flings, but never got that close again.”

"Honey, you know I didn’t mean it like that. I was only joking about the middle-age thing—“

Rafael waves his hand dismissively. “It’s fine, (y/n).”

“You sure?”

“Mm,” he says, putting an arm around your shoulder.

“Eight years is a long time, though.”

"It is… and if I ever seem distant, I don’t mean to be. I’m just used to being alone.”

“I don’t want you to ever get used to that again, honey,” you say, leaning against the table next to him. “You get used to me being here. Soy tuyo y… eres mio.”

He kisses you then, urgently. God, you were going to start talking to him in Spanish now? Even if all you knew was elementary level, he was a goner.

He doesn’t have much time to dwell on that thought, because Carisi’s knocking on the door. “Sorry to interrupt, Counselor, but I need to borrow the birthday girl,” he says, smiling brightly in that annoying way he always did. “We need her more than you right now.”

"What happened? I told Olivia an hour,” you ask, taking Rafael’s hand in your own as he pulls away from your mouth.

“Yeah, well, you know you can ask for an hour… but that doesn’t mean you’re gonna get it. She told me to come pick you up. We got a lead, and if you wanna get out by dinner…”

You roll your eyes at Sonny, then glance at Rafael. "Looks like I have to cut this short. Bye, honey,” you say, kissing him. “Make sure you eat your salad.”

“Yeah, Barba. Gotta get those greens in,” Carisi chuckles as you both give him a look. “What? It’s cute that you worry about his health. My ma, she’s always on my father about taking his meds, and she cooks for him, makes sure he goes for walks.”

“Well, I can’t have Rafael dying on me,” you say, putting on your coat. “I’d miss him too much.” You flash Rafael a smile, heading out with Carisi’s arm around your shoulder.

Sometimes he still feels a pang in his chest when he sees you with Carisi. Things seemed so easy between the two of you, so simple, like you’d been friends for decades as opposed to the months Carisi had been on the SVU. And Carisi was still annoying, God, the man never shut up about anything, and his off-color comments were more than eyebrow-raising at times. In some ways, Carisi was your work-husband, and Rafael supposes that’s to be expected. Partners got close, maybe even closer than some legal marriages.

Another reason why it was a sham. Right? Just because you didn’t have a ring on your finger or his last name didn’t mean you weren’t close to him.

But you could always be closer. Too close for comfort. Wake up next to him every day, brush your teeth in the bathroom next to him while he shaves, argue with him about not taking the trash out on time or something equally mundane. Sounds like hell. Sounds like monotony. Sounds like settling, maybe more on your part than his.

Because who would be able to marry you and call that settling?

Aside from the fact that marriage was always a risk for settling - because what are the odds you pick the right stranger off the streets of New York to bind yourself to for the rest of your life? Another hundred people were always getting off trains, getting on buses, leaving crowded streets to catch planes into or out of this city.

Rafael, though, he was always staying in the same place.

And, even though it may be insignificant in the grand scheme of things, the fact remains that somewhere on some paper in that precinct, your name is next to Carisi’s, billing you as partners. There was no such record of you and Rafael anywhere, not even a Facebook status. And that? From a legal standpoint, if one wanted to be crude, you two were nothing more than friends who fucked. Even if you did live together (which you didn’t) common law marriage wasn’t legal in New York.

So. Legally, if you went down that convoluted path, maybe you were closer to Carisi.

Rafael isn’t sure what to think about that. He’s over the jealousy; it’s been long enough now that he trusts you not to do anything stupid, and as much as Rafael hates to admit it he believes Carisi’s too set in his morals to even look at you suggestively. But it’s still something to think about, isn’t it?

——

“You look gorgeous,” Rafael whispers in your ear, helping you zip up your dress. You did; clad in a crushed velvet emerald long-sleeve number - yet another thing Rafael shelled out money for - and there’s a sense of pride in seeing it match perfectly with the necklace he’d gifted you earlier. “But I already can’t wait to bring you back here.”

“Mm, is that yet another present, honey?” you ask, pressing back against him. “You’ve really been spoiling me.”

“You’ve been a good girl. You deserve it,” he says, chuckling as you shiver.

“We’re gonna be late. Not nice to tease me,” you pout.

“I’ll make it up to you tenfold. Put your shoes on.”

The restaurant is nicer than Rafael thought the squad would pick out when they mentioned this idea to him a few weeks ago, but he has half a mind that they thought Rafael would help cover most of the bill. Which he did, as expected. Give a little, get a lot. Something like that. Like it or not, he’s dating the birthday girl, and he’s expected to be more giving than usual. By you, too, of course, even if you would never voice that assumption. He couldn’t very well buy himself suits that cost two grand for no reason and justify not spending the same amount or more on you on special occasions.

“Hey, happy birthday! Surprise!” Carisi says as you get to the table.

You roll your eyes at him before hugging him. “You said happy birthday to me, like, what? Twenty times today? It’s not a surprise anymore. But thank you.”

“Hey. Dream team. Had to do something for the best pardna in the world,” he says.

“Well, damn, Barba, you got (y/n) dressing to the nines too, now,” Amanda says when she sees you, smiling and squeezing your shoulder gently. “I feel underdressed now.”

“Nah, you look beautiful, Amanda,” you tell her, grinning back. “Blue’s your color.”

“Green’s definitely yours.”

This is the first time the whole squad has gone out with Rafael present since they found out for certain that the two of you were dating, and Rafael isn’t quite sure what to make of the atmosphere. He still feels excluded as the only lawyer present at a table full of detectives, and he thought maybe a known tie to you would change that, but it doesn’t, not much. Everyone falls into telling stories, and tonight they mostly concern you - but Rafael has none he wants to share even if maybe you expect him to contribute to the conversation.

What could he say that they didn’t already know?

Besides, what the hell did they think about him? He can only imagine what went through their heads once it was confirmed that he was dating you.

Isn’t he a little bit, well… too much of a smartass? Tacky, in the sense that he’s still that same kid from the barrio trying to fit in with the upper-class of New York with expensive suits and a brass ego? Old? Short? Aggressive (maybe more so passively)? Neurotic? Peculiar? Depressing?

God, he’s practically old enough to be your father.

Everyone was always trying to set you up with someone before they knew you weren’t single, whether it be Sonny with his Fordham buddies or Amanda with her men from god-knows-where or even Olivia one time with a sergeant from a different department. Maybe it’s because you’re beautiful, and beautiful people don’t stay single for long (unless, perhaps, if they were surly and standoffish, which you weren’t in the slightest). You’re a charmer, even if you don’t necessarily mean to be. A flirt without quite realizing it, without being too much of a threat. Pleasant to be around. Easy to like. A little shy, a little rough around the edges, a little stoic at first, sure, but that was easily overlooked and if someone put in the time, you were an open book.

It was easy to pity you. Maybe that shouldn’t be how he sees you, but sometimes he just can’t help but feel so damn bad given everything that’s happened to you. And he knows that’s how the squad feels too. Sure, you could handle yourself on your own, but no one wanted to let you. It’s in Olivia’s eyes when she looks at you sympathetically, it’s in Amanda’s hand when she squeezes your shoulder, it’s in Carisi’s insistence on putting himself in harms’ way so you wouldn’t ever have to take the fall: Poor baby. We’re the only tenderness you’ve ever known.

And maybe that’s true, maybe this squad was the only kind of lasting kindness you’d ever been shown. You don’t talk much about your past, and that’s fair, because Rafael doesn’t think there’s much that would be pleasant to recount. After the rape, middle school was difficult for you, as was to be expected, and you didn’t have many friends that stuck around. He’s never heard you say a word about high school, and sure, college was probably a lot better than the hell you’d been through before, but you had no one you kept in contact with from there, not even the woman you mentioned sleeping with before. Maybe life hasn’t handed you all the wrong cards: you’re gorgeous, you’re intelligent, you’re great at your job.

But in the interpersonal sphere, you’re lacking, maybe as sorely as Rafael, and that’s something he never quite thought about until now. You didn’t wear it like he did though, and you still had hope, somehow, whereas Rafael’s supplies of optimism had been used up over the years. Maybe one day you’d run out, too.

Leave it to Rafael to bring the melancholy to a birthday party.

But you wouldn’t bring the squad home; you couldn’t. On the nights you didn’t spend at Rafael’s or the nights he didn’t spend at your apartment, you were as alone as he was. He wonders, did you sit there and stare at the walls, struggle to sleep without him by your side… or did you not care?

“Honey, I was talking about you,” you say, giggling a little, and he feels your hand on his shoulder bring him back to the present. “You’ve been out of it, tonight, huh? Anyway, I was going to ask if you’d tell them about your theatre productions—“

“Oh, Jesus, (y/n), why the hell are you going to bring that shit up?” he asks, feeling a slight blush creep up his neck. “I told you about that in confidence.”

“Oh, come on. It’s cute.”

“Yeah, come on, Barba. She’s the birthday girl. You gotta do what she says,” Carisi chimes in.

Rafael glares at him and sighs. "Fine.”

“Floor is yours, Counselor,” Amanda says, winking. “Maybe you can sing for us, too.”

“Fine. I was in theatre in middle and high school. Happy?” he snaps. He knows he shouldn’t be so mean, and this was trivial, but he could do without the little jabs from the squad and your puppy-dog eyes.

“Why do you have to be like that, Rafi?” you ask. “Come on. Tell them the production in eighth grade.”

“This really means that much to you?“

"Will you just tell the story?” you ask. “No one will make fun of you, honey. I won’t let them.”

“Mm. Right. Well, my school couldn’t get the licensing rights to anything actually good that year for the Christmas musical… so we did A Christmas Peter Pan. It was about as awful as you think it would be.”

“What part did you play?” Olivia asks. Of course she’s the only one at the table who’s not tittering with laughter.

“I didn’t try out soon enough, and they didn’t have any parts left… so I played the crocodile.”

Amanda damn near spits out her drink, and Rafael rolls his eyes as Carisi laughs heartedly and Fin and Nick try and fail to not crack teasing smiles.

“I just really can’t picture that, Barba. Damn,” Carisi says after he calms down. “How bad was the costume?”

“What do you think a middle school theatre department could put together?” Rafael asks, narrowing his eyes. “Anyway. I didn’t have any lines, at least.”

“No, but you had three scary entrances,” you tease, grinning brightly and squeezing his shoulder. “Hey. It was your debut. I can’t wait until I get your mother to show me pictures—“

“Send them to me,” Amanda says. “I’m begging you.”

“I’m going to get my mother to burn that scrapbook before you’re ever in its vicinity,” Rafael mutters, chuckling.

“Aw, come on, honey, don’t be like that. You know I’d never let Amanda see them. Sonny, maybe—“

“Hey!” Amanda interjects while Rafael shoots you a withering look.

“No, I wouldn’t let him see them either. Some things are actually meant to be shared in confidence,” you laugh. “But anyway, Rafael went on to bigger and better things. He played Kenickie in Grease sophomore year, right? And you got the lead senior year?”

“Mm. Nathan Detroit. Guys and Dolls.”

“I have no idea what that is,” Carisi says.

“Of course you don’t,” Rafael retorts.

“It was a big part. He says his mother has a tape of that somewhere—“

“Are you trying to kill me, (y/n)?” Amanda asks exasperatedly. “The knowledge that that’s on film and I’ll never see it?”

“Mm. Deal with it. That’s not the one you wanna make fun of though,” you say. “Rafael can sing. He never will in front of you guys now, but he can.”

Right. Little things he’d shared with you, maybe without even meaning to, and now you could list them off as nonchalantly as if you were talking about yourself. Did any of his ex-lovers ever bother to learn all his amateur theatre roles front to back?

Thankfully, the waitress brings the cake over after a few minutes, saving him from more humiliation, and everyone, even Rafael, obliges and sings ‘Happy Birthday’ to you before you blow out the candles.

“Well, our blessings, (y/n),” Olivia says, grinning.

“Don’t tell your wish or it won’t come true,” Fin chuckles.

“Actually… I didn’t wish for anything,” you say, shrugging.

“What do you mean, you didn’t wish for anything?” Carisi asks.

“Tell, but lie,” Nick says.

“Nah. I’ve got everything I want. Thank you for including me in your thoughts, your lives—“

“Aww. Stay exactly as you are, (y/n),” Carisi says, reaching over to squeeze your hand. “What a sweetheart, huh, Barba?”

“Everyone adores you, (y/n),” Amanda laughs. “What an awful thing.”

Yeah. Everyone did adore you - but you weren’t an unshakable tenant in anyone’s life.

And, come to think of it, neither was Rafael. Rafael was always confused as to why the hell you even approached him all those months ago, flirted with him, got him to buy you dinner… but fuck, it was clear now. You were alone, grasping at straws just like he was. A couple months in the city you dreamed of living in since you were a child provided you with nothing more than acquaintances you worked and occasionally got drunk with, and maybe it was human nature to want more than that.

Yet here you were insisting that you didn’t wish for anything. What the hell? Didn’t you want more than what Rafael was giving you? Shouldn’t you?

Fuck if he knows. He’s not even sure what he wants anymore, never mind what you want.

——

Rafael has never been above sharing his body for someone else’s pleasure. It felt good to give in this regard, and fuck it, if anyone deserved to have a good, healthy sex life it was you.

It had been a long road to get you comfortable - yes, the first time you had sex with him you were more than a willing participant - but he’d notice sometimes when he initiated things, you would space out and become unresponsive. That was absolutely not going to work for him. He’s been prosecuting sex crimes long enough for that to turn his stomach in the worst way. The last thing he’d want is to take advantage of someone who was lying underneath him just because they thought it would appease him, not because they genuinely wanted to be there.

You got mad at him the first time he brought it up; said he was reading too much into things - but eventually you came around and admitted what had made you uncomfortable, what had turned you off, what had made you freeze, and what it came down to was years of trauma that no one had bothered to work through, not even yourself. What started with the rape went on to college boys who wouldn’t keep their hands to themselves and tried to pressure you when you weren’t ready - and you’d never quite learned to say no. You said you didn’t want to share this, didn’t want him to think you were some perpetual victim or that you didn’t enjoy sex - because you had had positive sexual experiences aside from Rafael, obviously - but sometimes all it took was a touch in the wrong place and you shut down. You still had issues here and there, but at least you’d actually fucking talk to him now, which was progress. He would’ve thought for an SVU detective with a psychology degree this wouldn’t be an issue, but maybe it’s how it goes - you put all your energy out there for the victims and you never learn how to unlearn your own toxic thought cycles and behaviors.

Also, Rafael learned, through trial and error, that you liked to be praised. Maybe it was after years of being ashamed of your body and sex, after years of feeling like you were inexperienced because you never met anyone worth having experiences with… but it was almost like you got off on it and Rafael wouldn’t really mind if that was the case. You are a good girl - his good girl - especially now, as he’s sitting at his desk chair in his apartment and you’re riding his thigh, your dress ridden up to your waist. Your lips are kiss-bruised and you’re so wet he can feel you seep through your panties to his dress pants.

Fuck it if you ruined them. Fuck it if you ruined him.

“Yes, good girl, you gonna get off on my thigh, (y/n)?” he asks, his voice low in your ear.

“I don’t know if I can,” you laugh. “Might need some assistance.”

“No, I think you can. Want you to try it. You think you’re close, mi buena chica?”

“Mm, don’t know. I didn’t think I was gonna have to work this hard on my birthday,” you say, leaning down to kiss his mouth. “Don’t you think those hands could be of good use somewhere?”

“Maybe. Where do you want them?“

"Mm, fucking everywhere,” you drawl.

For Rafael, sex was always just fun. Usually, it was better if he knew the person at least a little, but after Yelina, he didn’t care as much and was a little more of a libertine. Sex with you, though; it’s different - it’s a conversation - maybe like it’s supposed to be, sharing what you can’t or what you won’t say with words.

Maybe he should feel more flattered, because you were sharing a lot, too.

Rafael gives you what you want, though, cupping your breasts as he kisses you, murmuring words of encouragement in your ear in between - “Yes, just like that, you can do it, come for me, such a good girl, come on, cariño” - and when you do finally fall apart, he peppers your face with kisses. “See? I told you.”

“Mm. Sometimes you’re right,” you giggle, kissing the side of his mouth. “But I’m not working that hard for the next orgasm.”

“Fair enough,” he chuckles.

And you don’t; Rafael brings you over the edge with his tongue and fingers, but you’ve barely come down from your high before he’s on his back, at your mercy instead.

“What are you doing? Didn’t think you wanted to work for it anymore,” he teases as you press kisses on his chest.

“Nah, you’re gonna fuck me, hombre, but I want to do something for you first,” you purr, trailing down lower, lower, lower…

“It’s your birthday–”

“Mm. Yeah. But now I just guaranteed that you have to go down on me on yours,” you giggle. “No. We’re not counting favors here, right? Just let me.”

And you’re so good. You always are, but every time just seems to get better as you learn more of what he likes, what gets him off. He wonders vaguely if he you feel that way too, but he doesn’t have much time to dwell on that as your lips wrap around his cock. “Fuck, so good, (y/n),” he hisses. If he wasn’t almost painfully hard before he definitely is now. “That’s it, oh fuck.”

One of your hands comes to cup his balls gently as your tongue and lips work his cock and it’s hard to remember that you were ever tentative giving him a blowjob before. Maybe that’s the thing about sex; everyone thinks they need experience to be a good lover, but maybe they don’t. Maybe they just need to listen to their partner. Rafael’s slept with people who have slept with countless numbers of people but no one’s ever learned his body like you, and your count was much lower. Granted, Rafael never quite allowed himself this type of vulnerability with anyone else in recent history, either, but it was only fair that if some of your walls came down some of his did as well.

Still, he has to make sure you know that by gasping out praise and encouragement, tangling his hands in your hair, being careful not to pull too harshly. “Fuck, so good at that, sucking my cock so good, se buena, mm, fuck.”

Eventually, though, Rafael can feel that he’s dangering the brink and has to stop you. Switching positions again - you’re on your back for him now - and he’s lining up his cock with your pussy, making sure you’re still good. With your consent, he enters you, groaning softly at finally feeling you wet and warm around his cock.

“God, you’re fucking gorgeous, you know that?” he grunts as he starts fucking in and out of you, slowly at first.

“I’d hope you think so,” you say.

“Think - no. You are. Fucking gorgeous.”

Your cheeks flush a little and he can’t believe you still get flustered when he tells you that. But you are a vision - hair splayed on his pillow, your breasts heaving in tandem with your breath, your skin shining with a slight sheen of perspiration. Yeah. Fucking gorgeous.

And, oh fuck, now you’re clawing at his back, scratching with your nails. A shiver runs down his spine as he fucks into you harder, “That good?”

“Fuck, yeah, Rafael, fuck me,” you whine and he leans down to press a searing kiss to your mouth.

“Mm, so pretty, taking my cock so well, cosita bonita, so good for me,” he rasps in your ear.

You’re meeting him thrust for thrust; the only sounds Rafael can hear is the slap of skin on skin and his heart pounding in his ears as he kisses up and down your neck. “Mm, Rafael, feels so good,” you purr, and yeah, now he can see why you get off on those simple words of encouragement.

It’s not long before the two of you reach your highs and come down, a panting, tangled mess twisted up in his bedsheets. “Mm. Feliz cumpleaños, cariño.”

“Yeah, happy birthday to me,” you laugh, leaning over to snuggle against his chest. “Fuck, I’m exhausted now.”

“Thought I was supposed to be the old one.”

“Like you could go for another round right now.”

“Try me, mujer,” he chuckles. “Shower?”

“In a minute,” you giggle. “Let my heart rate come down a little.”

The two of you lay there in silence, your breathing rates settling while Rafael’s mind sets off to the races again. You were right, earlier, eight years was a fucking long time and it didn’t get any easier to be alone.

It doesn’t get any easier to be with someone, either, though, like when you wake him up too early in the morning and ruin his precious sleep, or when you make snide remarks that ruin his day and bruise his ego or, worst of all, as always: when you see right through him, like the front he puts up just doesn’t exist.

Maybe, though, maybe he’s a masochist because god forbid you leave. Here he was, carving out hours of his precious time; time he used to tell his mother he never had to spare, and sharing it with you. And you wanted him to.

Rafael doesn’t know what the hell to make of that.

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