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paarthurnax59 · 5 months ago

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Little Sparrow: Chapter 6

WARNINGS: Some swearing, brief description of childhood trauma

Dark. Dark and cold, which is how Dracula, the lord of the undead, preferred it. The demonic prince looked out from the now abandoned Castle that once belonged to Doctor Viktor Frankenstein, who died centuries ago. Killed by a mob for robbing graves of the dead. Rumor has it among the locals, that the Doctor himself had conducted unholy experiments, making him unwelcomed in normal society.

The people of the Transylvanian were led to believe the Castle was now haunted by the ghosts of the past. Strange events occurred when people tried to enter the castle. People disappearing as soon as they enter the castle, never to come out again. Which was the reason no human has set foot in that castle in decades. Made it the perfect place for an outpost for Dracula and his brides for the outside world. The immortal vampire prince walked around his quarters, waiting patiently for the news from his informants about the spear. It had been over a week that he sent the letter to the Order and still no word from that old bastard about the ransom. The spear for his best hunter’s freedom. While Dracula looked out the widow, he heard the door pounding.

“Master! A letter has arrived for you!” said a raspy voice coming from the side of the thick wooden door. Dracula grinned has he looked to the door.

“Enter, Igor!” He demanded, causing the doors to burst open, revealing a short, ugly monster walked in. He sported on tattered old, tattered clothing and matted, light-blonde hair at shoulder length. On his hands he wore fingerless gloves with chipped fingernails. In his hands, was a parchment envelope with red seal in the back that held it together. The creature Igor raised his hand with the letter and handed it to his undead master. Dracula took it and opened the envelope. He scanned through the letter, reading every word as the grin on his face grew. “So, the old man had sent someone to bring the spear to me. It was about time they made the right decision. Who is it that we are expecting?” He asked looking at his hideous servant. Igor held out what looked like a photograph. Dracula took it and examined the picture. It was of a young woman with beautiful, (H/C) hair, (Skin color) and (E/c) eyes. She was gorgeous, which made the vampire smirk with glee. “So, Jinette sent this little bird to deliver the spear to me? The Order should have known that I have a weakness for fragile, little things like her. May I ask who this lovely little dove might be?”

“Her name is (Full name). She is the ward of Cardinal Jinette Moretti, and a huntress. Our associate says that she had been gone for some time and had been living in America.” He answered making his master laugh.

“Her? A hunter? bah!! Look at her! She is far too delicate looking to be hunting such monstrous creatures. Things like her would be eaten alive. The old man must have a death wish for her.” He licked his lips as he placed the picture aside onto a table next to him. he gazed at the picture of the girl. “I trust that our informant has given us her estimated arrival?” He inquired the short hideous little man.

“Yes, they wrote that she is to arrive from Rome in a day. The letter also told us of where she will be staying at the oldest inn in the village. The Morning Dove Inn.” He answered his master.

“Good…and how…is our guest behaving?” the lord of death asked the grotesque man who had snarl to his sneer.

“He had finally quieted down. Fought the dwergi for a bit, but we managed to put him to sleep after giving him a good shock.” He grinned maliciously when he saw the pleased smile on his master’s face. Igor had always been a sadistic individual. He was often rejected as a child due his fascination for experimenting on dead corpses of animals. He would even torment innocent animals, just to see what happens went they were at their most vulnerable. Birds were often his favorite to torture, manly he watched to see what happened when he would cut off their wings.

Over time, he started targeting other children and had been sent to an asylum. Everyone, even his own family felt he was too much of a danger to others. His father said to him that he no longer had a son. Years later, he escaped and hunted down his parents. He slaughtered them as they slept. He never returned to his childhood home again. More time passed and Igor found Dracula, or Dracula found him. He started to work for him and his brides, been working for him ever since. One of his main duties is to torture any prisoners that get unruly. If the payment from the vampire prince wasn’t enough, then the pleasure to torture people would be enough. Including hunters.

“Good. Make sure to keep him in line, Igor.” Dracula ordered his head henchmen. “Also, I don’t want him to get too damaged before we have a chance to put him too good use.”

“What of the girl?” He asked the dark Prince. “What shall we do when she arrives?” Igor looked at the vampire and see the smirk now reappear on his face.

“Don’t worry, Igor. Hunter or not, I believe she won’t be too much of a disturbance for our plans.” He picked up a glass from the table, which contained a dark red substance and drank it slowly. Once the glass left his lips, he sighed in satisfaction. “We will wait until she arrives. We know what she looks like and where she will be staying. Send to one of our allies to keep an eye on our little bird. I need to find out more about her. I have given the cardinal clear instructions for the tradeoff. She is to come alone and when she does…I will be sinking my teeth into that lovely neck of hers.” He said as he finished to contents of his glass and set it down on the table next to the picture. “Now go, we have plans to make. Our guest of honor will be arriving soon, and I want to give her a proper Transylvanian welcome.”

....

Yours and Carl’s plane landed within five hours after you both left Vatican City. Standing outside the small airport, the two of you finally were able to track down a cab willing to take you both to the bus station. There it will lead you to Transylvania, where you will be looking for Van Helsing. The two of you sat in the back of the car not making a sound for a while, before you decided to break the silence. You wanted some answers as to how Van Helsing could caught.

“Carl, there is something that I had been wanting to ask.” You got straight to the point as the redhead priest looked in your direction. “I need to know…Do you have any idea on how Van Helsing was able to be captured?”

“You’re asking this now? While we are on our way to Transylvania?!” He shrieked as he looked down at you with wide. “To think that Jinette had me come with you when you didn’t even get all the information.”

“Sorry! I got caught up with everything and I just never bothered to ask. I had been through a lot in the past week and a half. I don’t need you berating me because I didn’t get all the facts before leaving!” You yelled back to defend yourself, making Carl flinch a little from your sudden outburst.

“Hey, keep it down back there! Or I will kick you out of my cab!” shouted the middle-aged cab driver as he looked at the two in the rearview mirror with a deadly glint in his eye. Apparently, not a lot of people find that Romanians were very friendly.

“Sorry, sir.” You apologized to the man up front, and Carl said nothing as the man looked away with an annoyed huff as he looked at the road. With man now looking away from them, you lowered your voice to speak. “Anyway, you still didn’t answer my question…How did Van Helsing get captured?” You asked the man and he sighed.

“He was sent on a hunt here a few weeks ago, he decided that he wanted to go alone.”

“What? Was he suicidal or something?!” You demanded in a yell-whisper, shocked by your life-long friend had been so careless and irresponsible by breaking the one rule of the Order. Never go on a hunt alone. Ever. Had Van Helsing lost his mind since you had left? Carl then sighed heavily as he heard you get so upset over the news had broken to you. Why hadn’t Father Jinette told you about Van Helsing getting kidnapped he wondered.

“Over the past few years, Gabriel had not been himself. He had been losing sleep and claiming that he had been having nightmares. He wouldn’t tell me specifically what he had dreams about, but I could see he was extremely affected by them.” He looked out the window, looking away from you. Your worry grew more as he spoke so solemnly about Van Helsing. “He refused to tell me everything, but I heard him one night screaming someone’s name. Father Jinette, sister Rosa and Rabbi Goldstein ran into the room to check on him that night. He was flaying and shouting out the name repeatedly. he was trapped in his own nightmare and couldn’t escape. It was like he was having a seizure, even hit Jinette once. It was terrifying.” Carl then looked back to you after, with some water threatened to fall down his face.

Far as long as you known him, Carl was always the person that made you laugh. One time, as he was tutoring you in science, he had accidentally set Father Giovanni’s robe on fire. The bitter, old priest was claiming you were too much of a distraction and wasn’t paying attention when one of Carl’s Bunsen burners. Making him dance around and having Jude throw water on him. The two of you and along with the entire lab laugh their heart out that day. One way or another, Carl knew how to put a smile on your face. To see him in such a state with so much sadness was very rare. Whatever Van Helsing went through, it had rippled on to those around him.

“Did he tell you anything?” You asked him with furrowed eyebrows.

“No. He wouldn’t say anything about it. To anyone really.” Carl admitted sighed as his eyes slowly began to dry up. “But I did see that all of it affect him throughout his day-to-day life, in his work and on hunts. Nothing truly deadly or dangerous…well, until now at least.” Carl said sadly as he took a breath. You nodded, still not quite believing that he would be so carless, but it explains how he got here. One thing still nagged at you while Carl explained, thinking maybe you can understand more of what was going on with your lifelong friend.

“Can you tell me what name he was saying? Then name he kept on screaming in his sleep?” You pleaded quietly to the ginger haired man. He looked slowly back to your direction.

“Your name, (Name). He was saying your name.” He confessed remorsefully, causing your eyes to widen in disbelief. Did this mean Van Helsing still cared for you? Did he miss you as much as you missed him? More questions swirled in your mind as the Cab driver announced that you and Carl had arrived at the Morning Dove Inn that was out on the boarder of Wallachia and Transylvania. The inn was located 50 miles away from the village where Gabe had been seen last, called Peonari village. The two of you said nothing after the driver of the cab got all of your things to the Inn. You and Carl carried your bags and walked up to the Building. The Inn was old and seemed a little rundown. The building didn’t have a lot of windows and made the atmosphere dark and cheerless. Your guess is that they don’t get that much business around here due to it be nearly in the middle of nowhere as the high mountains surround the area. Walking up to the reception desk with following behind, you ring the bell.

“Yes! I am coming!” Shouted the voice of a male voice coming from the back. He sounded a little irritated by how he yelled from a distance. A few moments later, a middle-aged man with black hair and brown eyes with a tall build. “Can I help you too?” He asked you both.

“Yes, we have a reservation under (Last name)?” You told him and then the grumpy man asked for your passports. After he verified your identity, he gave you the room keys. Not before he gave you a look that put you on edge.

“You be careful around these parts, girly. Strange things have been happening in these parts lately.” He looked at you as dropped the keys into your hand. You closed your hand and gave him a leering look.

“Thanks. I will keep that in mind.” You told him and the man proceeded to tell you two where your rooms are. You brought your things up and opened the door with your room numbers. As soon as the two of you got up, you handed Carl his key. “Meet me in my room in an hour, Carl. We need to start planning before we enact our plan.” You said before Carl went into his room.

“Of course, by the way, how are we going to go about this? Where do we start looking?” Carl questioned you as he picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulders.

“We are going to meet someone in town, or rather some people. The ones that were the last to see Van Helsing. I’ll tell you more when you get to my room. We need to wash up and then we can begin making connects with them.” You answered formally. He nodded and went into his room, locking as he closed it. You went into your own and closed the door behind you. the bag fell to the floor along with the case the held the spear. You opened your bag and grabbed your hygiene products before heading to the shower.

After you walked out of the shower, you noticed that it was already getting dark due to the room growing darker. Your curiosity ate at you and caused your feet to walk to the window to watch the sun go down. Opening the widow, you scan the scenery of the mountain terrains and saw the beautiful nature scenery. The forest the surrounded the open field was lush and green, adding a deep richness to the earth. The mountains scaled high to the clouds, tops with pure white snow. The colors of the dying daylight that reflected onto the high peaks of the mountains truly took your breath away.

When you lived in Kansas, you often yearned for the high mountain tops and celestial beauty that you were used to when you lived in Europe. The American Midwest, though had beauty of its own, was lacking compared to you saw now. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath of the mountain fresh air. You sigh in content before you opened your eyes again. Carl was going to meet you in fifteen minutes, and you needed to get dressed. You closed your window and got out your clothes for the night. After the remaining fifteen minutes, you heard a knock on your door. You opened it and saw Carl in casual entire.

“Come on in, Carl.” You said and gave Carl chance to enter your room. You closed the door and Carl then faced you as he stands you in the middle of your room.

“So, we do we start? What’s the plan, (Name)?” Carl asked you as you closed the door.

“It’s getting dark, so we will have to wait until tomorrow. You know very well that these lands are infested with monsters, and we’ll be much more vulnerable if we go out now.” You explained and sat on your bed with your arms folded. “Make sure you get plenty of sleep because we are getting up early tomorrow. We don’t have a whole lot of time. We only have only a few weeks before Dracula’s deadline is up.”

“Who are we meeting tomorrow? You mentioned that we were meeting some people that will help us finding Van Helsing?” Carl asked after you finished explaining your plan.

“The Valrious family.”

“They Valerious family? The famous monster hunting family that have been defending this entire region for over five centuries?” Carl’s eyebrow rose in shock.

“Yes, they were partnering with Van Helsing when he went missing. They are the only ones that know all the places where Van Helsing had been. They were also that last people to see him. They are our only leads to finding him.” You answered him. “Go get some sleep and tomorrow we will go down to the village.”

“Right.” Carl said as he took a deep breath. You noticed as he got agitated with every word the two of you spoke. You got up to meet him at eye level.

“What’s wrong, Carl?” You asked him with your voice laced with his concerned.

“It’s just, I’m worried about Van Helsing. I don’t know if we will be able to find him again.” Carl shakingly said as he rubbed his hands. You have seen him do this time and again when he was worried about something. He had every right to be nervous. You were too over not being able to find Van Helsing. For all you know, this all could be in vain. Dracula was the lord of the dead and a vampire. You don’t expect a monster like him to keep his word. However, something inside you told you to try and find him.

“Carl.” You placed a hand on the priest with a sad smile. “We will find him. I know it seems like a slim chance at this point, but we have to try. Van Helsing is strong, and he will hold on until we get to him. I promise we will find him.” Your words seemed to ease him as he gave you a small smile. He nodded and started to leave the room after he bid you a good night. As he closed the door, now leaving you alone. You got your sleepwear together and got yourself ready for bed.

Watching from afar, Dracula’s head bride, Alera, eyed the girl’ window with intense curiosity. Her lord and husband was right, she was beautiful. It had almost made her snarl at the fact that Dracula had grown a little obsessed with the human female. Dracula had instructed her to keep a close eye on her when the sun was down, and give him any details about where she might be going. When the girl closed her window, she quickly made her way to the inn. Thanks to her acute hearing, she was able to hear everything about the plan to find Van Helsing. (Name) planned on seeing that wretched family, known as the Valerious family. She wanted to growl at the mere mention of the family of hunters that have killed so many of her kind for centuries. Still, Alera knew she had to stay quiet. She cannot have her cover blown over her hate filled emotions.

After she bid her companion good night, the woman was now left alone to sleep. When she knew (Name) were asleep, she quietly and swiftly crawled up to the window and opened it gently. Alera knew very well on how to remain as silent as the wind when entering a house. She had done it for centuries to pray on her unsuspecting victims. Suddenly, when she tried to reach the opening, her hand began to burn. She shirked in pain as she drew herself away and clutched onto her hand.

“Who’s there?!” The young woman shouted from her bed and the light in your room went back on. Alera knowing her cover had been blow, fled away from the seen before you could spot her in the night. Once she was far away from the Morning Dove Inn, Alera transformed into her demon form and fled away into the night sky.

...

(Name)’s POV.

As soon as you heard the ear-piercing scream, you jolted from your bed. Grabbing your gun and holy water.

“Who’s there?!” You demanded to whoever was invading your room. You looked around and noticed the window was opened. Your eyes widened as you quickly ran up to the window and locked the shutters. Not long after, Carl came bursting through the door panting like crazy.

“What happened?! Are you okay (Name)?!” Carl yelled in a panic.

“I’m fine, Carl. I believe that someone had tried to break in here.” You explained as you put your gun down on your nightstand.

“Break in?!” He cried as you told him what had just happened.

“Yeah, and by the looks of it, it wasn’t human.” You said as you pointed at the window. “I blessed the window frames with holy water and use ancient warding symbols that were specifically to keep vampires away. It one of the most efficient ways to keep vampires out.” You explained to the priest as looked at the now closed window. Carl then looked at the wards that surround the window in a foreign language that he had never seen before.

“Brilliant.” Carl looked at you with great astonishment at your careful preparation. “Where did you learn all this? I don’t remember the Cardinal teaching us these skills.” He asked you as he saw the

“A man named Sam did. He is one of my best friends in the States.” You answered honestly.

“Sam?”

“Yeah, he taught me a lot during my time there. He taught me some of the most effective ways to hunt monsters that I never heard of before. I have fought a lot of vampires and werewolves in the States and Sam taught me a lot.” With your words, you face fell as you thought about Sam. It hurt to talk about your time with the Winchesters. You shook that off for now, trying to focus on what was going on in the moment. “Carl, I believe Dracula knows we are here.”

“Already? How?”

“I don’t know, but I have a feeling we need to be more cautious. I was hoping that it would have taken time for his to catch on, but I laced these wards on my window just in case. Turns out, I was right to do so. We should do the same to yours, Carl. In case they come back.” You suggested. Soon, you grabbed all your tools and headed to Carl’s room. After drawing the sigils around his window, you bid him good night once more and headed back to your room to sleep. You had a long day ahead and you were running out of time. With Your eye lids growing heavy with sleep and let yourself succumb to the darkness.

Standing in the large crowd, you felt as if your ears were starting to bleed. The people were all together in a large square with hundreds of people. Young, old, men and women. All of them chanted angrily, throwing fists in the air with a violent rage.

“He’s a fraud!”

“Hieratic!”

“Liar!”

Shouted the angry masses as they all look up at the balcony. A man emerged, dressed in fine robes. He had a circlet crown upon his head. The mob like crowd cheered as the man appeared in front of them. You stood far back, but you were able to see enough of this man to see that he displayed a significant amount of authority. With a simply wave of his hand, the people were silent. With the wave of his other hand, another man had come forward next to him. You could barely make out his face, but you could see the silent strength that you had witnessed once before.

“Ye has brought this man unto me not guilty of any wrongdoing! I have examined him before ye and found no-fault with his man of which ye have accused him! Of Which I shall release him!” Said the finely clothed man and the crowd around you muttered in shock and were beginning to shout “No”. “Then what shall I do with this man, if ye will not let me release him?!” He said pointing to the man next to him.

“Crucify him! Release Barabbas!” Shouted one of them men in fine priest robes and jewelry standing in the front of the crowd along with other men that were dressed the same. Your eyes widen in the direction of the heartless priest.

“No.” you uttered to yourself, tears now streaming down your face as you look back up to the direction of the balcony once more.

“Would ye have me release Barabbas?! Over him?! An innocent guilty of no crime?!” He pointed back at the man in white standing by him.

“No, please.” You quietly cried again, not wanting to see this going they way you prayed it wouldn’t. Watching the man in fine garbs take a deep sigh and then turned away from the mob. He has a servant bring out a bowl and poured water in it. The man then washed his hands in it and turn back to the people once more.

“I wash my hands of this innocent man’s blood! See to it yourselves!” He shouted and then proceeded to walked away from the crowd. The people cheered violently as you cried out the man on the balcony.

“No! No, let him go!!” You ran to the front and try to fight your way through the crowd. As soon as you reached the front, the cheers faded away and it all went dark.

“NO!!!”

….

Holy crap! It's been over a year since I have updated! I really hope you guys like this chapter! sorry it's not as great as others but I really appreciate your guys feedback and follow me for more!

#angst #dean winchester supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #vanhelsing angst #vanhelsingxyou #van helsing x reader #@clairealeehelsing #@bruher #@deans spinster witch #@valkyrianwar

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still-a-morosexual-help · 2 years ago

Note

You wrote "A big part of pulling free from expectations put on women is by breaking genderstereotypes, which leads to men being able to wear dresses, makeup, heels without being mocked for it because everyone should be able to present themselves in a way that makes them comfortable & happy." OK. But that's not attractive. I'd never fuck or be in relationship with a man who's not masculine. And people like you are erasing masculinity by promoting this mindset. I need traditional, masculine men in life. Because I'm a feminine woman. Men should be happy to be men, and live in their masculine energy. Men are mocked for being men in today's messed up society. That's why we need people like Jordan Peterson and other positive influences to lead them to the right path.

If you're attracted to masculine men, I'm gonna tell something that's very important. Listen up:

GOOD FOR YOU

I genuinely do not care.

Your preference and tastes are your business and like cool man. I'm not trying to dictate your life. Your life is your life. (Obviously as long as it isn't hurting others;) You deserve the freedom to be who you like, act how you like and well do who you like ;)

...get it.... ?

Understand that everyone should be extended the deceny and humanity to be who they want to be ? (Adding this again, because I know you're just the type of person who'd jump through hoops to twist this into saying I'm excusing like mass murder or whatever: as long as it isn't hurting others)

So once again;

Understand that everyone should be extended the deceny and humanity to be who they want to be ? Even men?

If a man wants to be "traditional" then sure cool good for him. If he wants to wear a cute little dress then sure cool good for him. It's not up to anyone else to dictate that choice. Definitely not you and me.

Girl if you like 'em traditional then go find a traditional man. Surprise, Surprise they still exist. They're not some endangered species or whatever you think is happening. I'm not out here hunting them for sport. Coming and complaining to me won't help. If you can't find a traditional man then I think that speaks about some problem from your end not mine :/

Okay but I love how I said that everyone should be able to be "comfortable and happy" in their own skin and you immediately followed that by "OK. But that's not attractive." !?!?!?!??! DUDE!?😂😂😂😂😂😂

Men (and anyone really) aren't just inanimate objects whose sole purpose for existence is to be attractive to you. They deserve to be comfortable and happy even if you don't find them attractive.

That's like someone saying they have a preference for I dunno blond men or whatever? And then believing every man in the world should dye their hair blond just so they'd appeal to that person.

....do you see how unhinged that is?

...how much of a dick move that is?

Maybe that's why you seem to be having trouble finding a traditional man🤔

Sorry! Sorry! That was below the belt. But I dunno a person's chances of getting a date usually shoot up when they're not blatantly an asshole. When they're not putting their partner's sex appeal to specifically them above said partner's happiness & comfort....

Here's my question, I'm an Obey Me! blog right?

How the fuck did you get here? "Traditional" men really are an extinct species in that game😭 did you get lost? are people putting hits out on my name? sending you in here? like genuinely how did you end up here?

Also side note, because I find it really interesting; the characteristics of "traditional men" and "traditional masculinity" has a tendency to change between culture & time. It doesn't really change the flow of our conversation because that's not really the point of it, but it's something interesting to read about if you wanted

Okay well, good luck I guess ❤️✌️

#asks #lol

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knifedancer · 1 year ago

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Iris (songfic, part 1)

Argos has been following Marinette since the events of 'Emotion', falling in love with her from afar. One night, while she is walking home, Mari is attacked by two strange men and Argos has to step in to protect her.

Based on the lyrics for 'Iris' by the Goo Goo Dolls (1998) from the movie soundtrack for 'City of Angels'. Posted on AO3.

Part 2

~~~~~~~

And I’d give up forever to touch you

'Cause I know that you feel me somehow

You’re the closest to heaven that I’ll ever be

And I don’t want to go home right now

Argos watched as the ravenette walked home from the fabric store after 9:00pm, he kept to the shadows. He smiled; it seemed like she could sense him as she kept glancing over her shoulder. Ever since the Diamond Dance, he had been watching her – at first because he was curious about the baker girl that spent far too much time with his cousin. Perhaps she was simply using Adrien? Felix knew he would need to keep a close eye on her, remaining transformed so he could stealthily move across rooftops. He only left her vicinity during akuma attacks so that he could hunt down Ladybug during the battle. As time wore on, she seemed to let her affections for the other blond go and her attempts of friendship appeared genuine. With time he witnessed the young designer’s unyielding kindness to others, even those that did not deserve it – those that betrayed or bullied her. Marinette even fed that mangy Chat Noir on occasion! She was the living embodiment of ‘killing with kindness’ and he was so enraptured that he couldn’t look away. She was a literal pearl before the swine; an angel among the unwashed masses...

The peacock holder was drawn from his thoughts when he heard Marinette’s steps falter before an alleyway. Emerging from the darkness stood two men sporting toothy grins that seemed dangerously predatory. The young designer took a step back, her eyes darting around looking for an exit strategy.

“Hey there sweet thing, how about we have some fun?” The taller one asked, both advancing on her.

“No, I don’t think so. I’ll be on my way,” Marinette replied sternly, hugging her bag to her chest, and turning toward the street in an effort to run away.

However, the shorter one rushed in and grabbed her elbow before she could run. The girl attempted to break free or scream but a knife appeared at her throat. “Now now, let’s not make a fuss, hmm?” They began to drag her towards the alleyway while they chuckled.

Argos’ blood began to boil, clenching his teeth so hard he thought he heard them crack. He was no hero but like hell would he let someone hurt his—his—his…civilian. He stepped from the shadows and cautiously looked down into the alleyway to assess the situation but, watching one of the men slap Marinette so hard that she stumbled back against a wall, caused his blood to suddenly become ice.

All I can taste is this moment

And all I can breathe is your life

And sooner or later, it’s over

I just don’t want to miss you tonight

Within moments, Argos landed in front of the ravenette and brandished his fan with a cold glare at the two men. The taller one had begun to unfasten his belt and pants while the smaller one stood between them and the exit. ‘Likely to prevent her escape and keep an eye out for any passersby who might interrupt,’ the villain-turned-protector thought with disgust.

He heard her gasp behind him, the quiet ‘Argos…?’ in a breathy whisper alerted him that she was still conscious. Good.

“Eh, who the hell are you?!"

“No one of consequence,” he replied smoothly, making sure that his calculating magenta eyes were shadowed in his hood. If he was lucky, these two buffoons wouldn’t have a clue about him wielding a miraculous. Perhaps they’d assume he was just some random costumed prick that imagined themselves a hero.

And I don’t want the world to see me

‘Cause I don’t think that they’d understand

When everything’s made to be broken

I just want you to know who I am

The shorter man lunged with the knife and Argos blocked it with his fan, trapping the blade between the metal ribs and ripping it from the attacker’s hand before kicking him squarely in the groin. The attacker dropped like a stone and Argos wasted no time executing a spinning back kick – landing it squarely across the man’s skull, knocking him out cold and causing his body to splay out across the cement. Argos turned to face the taller man, who was charging towards him and swinging a larger blade recklessly. All the purple hooded teen could do was dodge the furious swipes, waiting for an opening.

The second attacker seemed to trip on something in the darkness and the peacock holder took this moment to slam a roundhouse kick into the man’s side, causing him to crash into a trashcan, appearing to knock himself out. Argos looked over his shoulder, magenta irises met the shocked bluebells he had come to admire from afar. Marinette’s typical pigtails were disheveled – one had obviously been pulled by one of the men – and her form was still huddled against the wall where she had landed. Her cheek was swollen and red, he knew the girl would likely be sporting a bruise or black eye by morning. Her left jacket sleeve was ripped at the shoulder seam from when they grabbed her. He could see tear tracks on her cheeks outlined by her running mascara – tears that had been born from unadulterated fear. Argos’ stomach churned at the idea of someone else having their hands on her, he hated that his ang—civilian had been hurt.

He stepped closer, his hand outstretched to help her to her feet. “Can you walk? We need to get you out of here.”

Fear flashed in her eyes and she yelled, “Look out!”

And you can’t fight the tears that ain’t coming

Or the moment of truth in your lies

When everything feels like the movies

Yeah, you bleed just to know you’re alive

He had managed to half turn back to his attacker only to feel the knife plunge into his side, he grunted as pain shot through his entire body. Argos could see the edges of his vision darken and he stumbled back a couple steps, his free hand cupping the wound as it began to seep blood until the purples of his suit turned maroon around the hilt. Adrenaline and endorphins kicked in, bringing with it a buzzing to his muscles and mind that screamed fight. He looked up at the grinning attacker with a smirk.

“Wrong move,” Argos sneered. He yanked the knife from his side with a painful gasp, taking a second to re-orientate himself as his vision swam. Then he pulled and imbued a feather with power, fusing it into the knife. It transformed into a giant, blood-red minotaur that billowed smoke from its nostrils; the horns, two gleaming knives upon its head. His attacker and his reawakened friend’s faltering steps took them back towards the alley’s entrance. “Minotorn, escort our friends here to their doom.” Screaming, the two attackers took off and the sentimonster snorted before giving chase, leaving the two teens alone once again.

And I don’t want the world to see me

‘Cause I don’t think that they’d understand

When everything’s made to be broken

I just want you to know who I am

With the immediate danger passed, his vision began to blur and the world began to spin. ‘Blood loss…,’ the vague thought drifted through his rapidly clouding consciousness. Argos staggered towards the one thing he could still clearly see: Marinette. Her brow was lowered in a way that made her nose crinkle – ‘cute’ his hazy mind supplied – but at least she was back on her feet. Although, he could tell by the way she favored her left foot that she must have injured the other ankle in the struggle earlier.

“Are you alright?” He asked quietly, finding that talking was becoming far more difficult.

“I’ll be fine, just a twisted ankle! But are you okay? You were stabbed!”

Argos chuckled painfully, leaning against the wall beside her as he pressed a gloved hand to his gaping wound. “Not my finest performance. I admit, I’ve felt better…” Feeling too weak to stand, he slid down the wall until he was half crouched on the ground.

Marinette pulled off her jacket and kneeled beside him with a wince. She began ripping the material into strips before bundling it into a makeshift compress that she then placed firmly against the laceration. Argos hissed with pain but allowed her to care for his wound with no further protest. He never expected to ever be on the receiving end of her kindness… As Argos, he was a villain. As Felix he was too broken, too arrogant, too numb to deserve it. As his miraculous began to beep, he focused in on studying Marinette up close. Beautiful blue eyes were framed by long black lashes, which fluttered down against her delicate pale cheek bones as she focused on her task. Between the smears of mascara and eyeliner he could make out a few tiny freckles that seemed to dance as she scrunched her face with worry. Her hair, which almost glowed blue in the sun, now appeared inky black in the darkened alley.

She turned those eyes back towards his face, barely able to see his eyes beneath his hood. “Why did you come to help me, Argos?” He stared at her for a moment, trying to formulate the right words but failing. He let his eyes drop to the ground without answering.

I just want you to know who I am…

As the last warning beep rang out, she reached up to cup his cheek and turned his face to meet her eyes. Her skin was soft and warm despite the chill in the air, the sensation made something in his chest tumble about like a preening bird in front of its desired mate. His transformation fell away and, with it, so did Felix’s emotional walls. His eyes laid himself bare before her, exposing himself as a broken mess that had fallen head over heels for the clumsy girl that had once crushed on his cousin. A girl he had mocked, tricked, and then made to disappear under his Red Moon…

“…I’m s-sorry, Angel…,” he finally managed to choke out, his voice betraying the increasingly weakened state he was in. The adrenaline had fully worn off and, without the protection of his miraculous suit, the pain he was in tripled. Felix struggled to keep his eyes open, not wanting to leave Marinette here alone. At least his sentibeing could protect her until Ladybug purifies it…

‘Marinette would be a beautiful peahen…,’ he thought blearily, the color of her eyes flashing through his mind. ‘…she’s already blue.’

“You…what did you call me? Felix? Hey, stay with me! Felix!” He could hear the panic rising in her voice but could no longer respond, his eyes closing as he succumbed to the blackness that seemed to be calling his name. Unable to sustain his balance any longer, his body fell forward and landed in her arms. He vaguely registered her warmth and scent before the numbness began to overtake his senses. With the last vestiges of his consciousness, he heard Marinette mumble something and then the familiar zip of a yo-yo.

…I just want you to know who I am.

#miraculous ladybug #felinette #marivanily #marinette dupain cheng #felix fathom #felix graham de vanily #felix x marinette #drabble #songfic #angst #hurt/comfort #Argonette #margos #protective felix #POV Felix #open ending

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sketchfanda · 1 year ago

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Chestnut Stud across the Multiverse:Amazon Crown

Krillin checked his watch as he waited under the shade of a large tree, waiting for his appointment. It was more or less a tradition he maintained ever since that period of time when he trained for the 23rd world martial arts tournament, particularly around the point he and yamcha,then and chiaotzu went their sewerage ways. Naturally he’d told 18 about this little annual routine of his,to which his ever hot wife understood and more than encouraged him. All she asked for in return as always for every explicit, juicy detail to which he gave a deadpan glance up at the capsule corp camera drone hovering uo around in stealth mode. His attention caught as he saw some bushes rustling and the sound of foot steps as a figure emerged from the nearby forest. Suffice to say if you were to see this person now you’d think only one thing. She was drop dead fucking gorgeous!! The definition of the term of amazonian beauty,as she had the fsce of a supermodel, the curves of a pornstar and the glorious physique of a muscle goddess. Her sculpted arms effortlessly hauling a massive twin-headed axe as her armoured plated leather boots moved with a graceful powerful stride. Her legs exquisite tree trunks of powerful meat with those wonderful hips and thick,juicy thighs sporting exotic tribal tattoos and a flowing mane of platinum blonde hair. Her exquisite physique highlighted and showed off by a scalemail pattern two piece bikini,overall she had the look and aura of someone out of s fantasy adventure novel. Krillin had never quite gotten a name from her, she omly ever seemed to prefer being called by her job title as the bombshell looked his way, noticing him and cracking a soft small smile on her serious yet pretty face. “On time as ever,aren’t we little man? Then again,who am I kidding,like you ever miss this…” The stunner quipped as the compact fighter and off duty cop clad in his turtle school gi as he tightened the blue belt around his waist.

The shortstack martial artist walked behind the woman, eyes glued to her backside as he couldn’t resist drinking in the view. Her powerful back and shoulder muscles flexing snd her bubbly,juicy meaty thing clad ass jiggling and shaking with every step as the blonde babe shot a glance over at him his way. A catlike hum and smile on her face as she blew him a kiss, making him blush. “W-well You know me Amazon, I like to be punctual…” he humbly replied in good humour and nature, blushing as Amazon,as she was known,giggled cute and melodically. Walking with a distinct sway and sashay to her hips. Her meaty thighs rubbing together as she flexed and clapped her booty cheeks. The pair walking deep into lush jungl like greenery around them. A labyrinth of trees, vines and bushes with the odd boulders and ruins here and there. Every year since thst time training for the 3 years until the next tournament Krillin would meet up with Amazon on this,the very date they first met. It was by chance during his wandering snd travelling the world when he had come upon this muscle mountain woman facing a hoard of wild vicious dinosaurs and helped her out of a messy jam. The warrior woman more than appreciated the help snd feeling indebted to Krillin, decided to help him out on his training journey by having him tag along with her in some quests rounding up bandits and hunting down beasts and monsters to slay for food and money. But for the thicc swole work of art who sensually licked her lips at the short ming, this day of the year was something she looked forward to for a different reason. Soon as they came to a nice shaded clearing, the sunlight shining through the mesh nest of leaves snd branches and making the nearby waterfall sparkle as she placed her axe against a nearby tree. Her smile soft,seductive snd sensual as she turned to face Krillin.

“That’s one of the things I just love about You, really. So modest, humble…but so strong..and so…” the muscle queen spoke, her tone becoming teasing, seductive as she reached behind her back and began to undo the clasp to her bra. Removing ti to expose snd flash her naked tits before him. Krillin blushing yet not poking away as this vision of sexy muscular art stripped before him, shedding her gloves and boots, watching on as she hooked the string of her thong,sliding it down her powerful tattooed legs as little web trail of arousal stretched from her slit. The warrior monk turned cop not wasting time as he she’d his gi, Amazon biting her lip sensually as she admired his atlas class muscular body. Those Herculean features of course nothing compared to his cock and balls as the former rose to erectness. The pair of warriors taking in the sight of one another in the nude, their arousal growing as Amazon closed the distance between them, leaning her statuwese frame to his 5 foot own,cupojng his fsce in her hands as she caressed it. “So damn good at making me feel like a woman…” With that said, the platinum blonde stunner pressed her lips to his as she began making out with Krillin, moaning as she felt his hands grab and squeeze her glorious ass. Their tongues dancing as they felt the memories of taste and sensation flow between them and into their bodies. The only sounds between them being the chirping birds and cicadas and the stealth drone watching and recording this union.

You see that day fateful day years ago,on their final week or so together, before Krillin was ready to move in and continue his training journey, as they sat at a campfire together, Amazon had learned he was a virgin. So she decided as a thank you for being such a great fighter and strong companion and the comfort and warmth his presence had brought, she would give him his first time. Her own bit of experience ensured she woild give him the experience to truly become a man and know how to please a woman, but her shock and delight at how surprisingly well endowed he was was quite the surprise and oh how she came to love their union. Long into the night, then the morning and into the very next evening. For a full day, sunset to sunrise to repeat, two or 3 days had it been? The shirt king the muscular bombshell made love, their bond of trust making for a sensual experience,tantric even as amazon’s sexual experience honed krillin’s own quite gifted intuition and instincts as they mated like animals. Amazon had been with her share of men and plenty of women too, often both at once. But that day with Krillin was a whole other matter as every orgasm they shared deepened their bond, as she felt her bidy develope the desire to have him outright breed her. To have him claim her like the alpha male he was and use her as he saw fit, until she was overflowing with his seed and her womb carried his young. Their parting had been a bittersweet sorrow but didn’t become goodbye forever,as they basked in the afterglow and Amazon swore to promise that every year on that day, the two would meet up and spend the day fucking like primal beasts. Suffice to say Krillin more than stuck to that promise to make time and keep to this appointment even long after having married. Hell of course he had to let 18 know about his little tradition snd surprisingly she not only understood but encouraged him to plow thst not piece of ass like he did to her on their honeymoon.

‘That wife of mine,honestly….’18 was one majorly kinky woman who was of the idea thst since he could satisfy her, a cybernetic bombshell with infinite stamina, then ore than one woman was needed to sate his own libido. She practically got off on the idea of him sowing wild oats,but he digressed as he returned to reality to resume making out with Amazon,moaning into each other’s mouths as their tongues danced and swapped spit. Smacking and clapping her ass like a set of bongo drums as she ran her own hands alon his back to his shoulder and torso. Purring as she massaged his muscles, wondering if he’d gotten buffer since their last time together. Before shamelessly purring sensually as she grasped his cock and balls, stroking and jerking thst rigid shaft in her hands. The grip she normally held her axe with applied to his length and girth as she felt her palms and fingers become soaked and slick with his flowing pre cum. Taking delight in his reactions before he in turn coaxed deepthroated moans forth from her as his own hands began to move and caress along gorgeous,muscular form. Shuddering as he cupped and squeezed her glorious tits, tweaking her nipples as he moved his head to nuzzle and kiss those twin orbs,suckling and licking away at them,as he and Amazon moved to kneel together on the soft lush grass. Making out sensually as they groped one another’s bodies. Heavy petting exchanged between them as soon Amazon laid backflat on the ground, purring as Krillin straddled her upper torso, hands grasping her tits as he sandwiched them between his cock. Thrusting and pumping between the valley of that firm,juicy cleavage as she kissed and licked the exposed tip whenever it came near her lips. Before she soon sat up,moving him to sit on her shoulders as her arm and back muscles flexed. Hands grabbing his ass as she shoved his cock into her mouth,deepthroating him right off the bat as her lips kissed the base and balls of his cock. Making Krillin shudder as rode the momentum to commence facefucking the muscular work of art of a warrior woman. Amazon’s moans muffled as she felt her pussy gush with sticky,warm nectar while Krillin pumped his length and girth like her mouth was an oral pussy. Her neck swelling and bulging as his balls smacked against his chin,the force of this fellation making her tits bounce and slap against his toned rear.

Once Amazon had achieved the goal of getting a nice mouth snd face full of his jizz, she was soon on her hands and knees, muscles flexed and tensed as her skin glistened with a luscious sheen of sweat. Moaning and rolling her head,tongue out like the bitch in heat she was as Krillin knelt behind her, his fsce pressed against her loins as his hands grasped and spread her juicy ass. Rimming her pucker and lapping away at her slit as he drank uo her juices. Practically making out with her cooch before deciding he’d coaxed enough orgasms out of her as he adjusted position. Grasping her waist as he lined uo his shaft, running the tip against her not,sloppy pussy and pumped his hips. Amazon throwing her head back to let out an orgasmic howl as she felt that familiar,wonderful sensation of his cock penetrating her, his size enabling him to not just hit her G spot but the entire alphabet as the tip kissed the entrance of her womb. But when he started moving his pelvis like a jackhammer, she truly knew what pleasure was as her ass shook and jiggled with every impact of their loins smacking together. His balls smacking her clit, juices splashing as she grasped the grass, her sensual muscles tensing as her spine arched and her toes curled. The exquisite familiar bliss of mating with Krillin flowing through her body as she the short king commenced the ancient primal dance of man and woman, their little spot in the woods filled with the sounds of their passion. No need to keep count of her own orgasms, only his as every instance of his cock erupting and flooding her womb woild they shift and change position. The warrior woman relishing every instance as he came so much inside her without ever pulling out. His stamina and staying power godly as they made use of their special day to go through their own personal kama sutra of lovemaking positions. The drone hovering unseen as it transmitted to its voyeuristic viewer.

How Amazon loved and cherished every instance of their lewd erotic bonding. Holding hands with her short king as she rode him cowgirl style, his gaze locked on her bouncing tits as she wore a facial expression of sexual ectasy as her juicy bubble butt milked that cock. To wrapping her arms and legs around him as she found him holding her up in the air,arms hooked around her powerful legs he pumped away vigorously into her gushing snatch, their tongues dancing together in a sloppy kiss before they soon rolled around and about in the grass battling for dominance in a mating or Amazon press,pun unintended. The warrior woman accepting her defeat with gusto as either way she won by never losing her union with her stud. Hearts glowing in her eyes as they laid together in missionary, her studly friend with benefits laying atop her as his hips sacked into that hot,overflowing pussy. The platinum blonde hottie wondering if this might yet be the day her little ma would bless her with a child. She woild yet have that army of strong sons and daughters yet but the fact their baby making involved such fun only helped motivate her desire to be knocked up by her short king. The sun at high noon as the lair showed no signs of stopping, as they aimed to go all day and all night to dawn itself. As back in Krillin’s home, 18 sat naked in her bedroom, shamelessly masturbating as she pumped her Warrior Monk dildo into her pussy. Grinning as she moaned without shame and plenty of pleasure as she indulged in her voyeurism. Nothing rocked ehr more tha seeing her little man sow his wild oats,as she glanced at the calendar to see what other regular fuck buddies he had an appointment due. Oh yes,the universe would see plenty of Krilln’s babies and they’d be glorious!, the future would be chestnuts!!

#sketchfan85 #sketchfan #sketchfanda #krillin #krillin smut #dragonball krillin #krillin dragonball #amazon #dragons crown #amazon dragons crown

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clarklovescarole · 2 years ago

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April 1938: Fishing & Station Wagon Riding

April 1, 1938 – Buffalo Evening News

Talking about ill health brings me to Carole Lombard and the cure suggested by her doctor – exercise, early-to-bed, and lots of sunshine. He forgot to add “Clark Gable,” who has just returned to Hollywood from a masculine hunting jaunt to Mexico…

April 5, 1938 – The Enid Morning News

Carole Lombard’s Food Taboo Is Tomatoes While Gable Abhors Clams

Helpful hints to Hollywood hostesses: If you’re entertaining Carole Lombard, never have tomatoes on the dinner menu. During the filming of “True Confession,” the blonde star had to consume no less than 42 lettuce and tomato sandwiches, and she’s not been able to bring herself to touch tomatoes since then.

Clark Gable’s pet aversion in the matter of edibles is clam juice, so remember that the next time he drops around for dinner.

April 5, 1938 – Lancaster New Era

Carole Lombard is knitting a sweater but she says this one is not for Clark Gable.

April 5, 1938 – Star Tribune

Carole Lombard’s pet name for Clark Gable is “Pa.” Cute, eh?

April 8, 1938 – Courier Post

Chatter in Hollywood: The mysterious station wagon moving rapidly along the road to San Diego yesterday at 2 a.m. was on its way to Coronado for a deep sea fishing expedition. Driving the car was Clark Gable and sitting next to him was Carole Lombard.

In the back seats sat the Buster Colliers and the Harry Fleishmans hanging on for dear life as the big car took the turns. The happy party took along sandwiches, thermos bottles of coffee and fried chicken and expected to return late after traveling more than 200 miles for one day’s fishing. We’ll let you know later whether they brought back any barracudas.

April 8, 1938 – The Ogden Standard

Good At Alibis

We’ve often wondered what Carole Lombard gave [Clark Gable] this past Christmas. They always exchange “gaggy gifts.” At the time Clark was playing the title role in “Test pilot,” so Lombard sent him two round-trip tickets for a flight in the tourist advertising blimp that floats aimlessly over Los Angles. Clark then sent her a scooter to go places in a hurry.

Of all the film stars – Clark’s the most boyish and best of company.

April 11, 1938 – The Courier

Snapshots of Hollywood

Clark Gable and Carole Lombard brought back 26 fish, one of them looked like a whale but tasted better.

April 12, 1938 – Star Tribune

Carole Lombard, who joyously welcomes weight gains in ounce dribbles, has put on four pounds since finishing her last picture, and her friends now can have just about anything they want – that is, anything but Gable.

April 13, 1938 – The Minneapolis Journal

The ‘Dignified’ Miss Lombard

Dignity and Carole Lombard simply aren’t allergic, numerous recent motion pictures have testified. Here is Miss Lombard in a carefree moment, out for a run or a stroll with Beau Brummel, her English sheepdog. Miss Lombard is now working on “Fools For Scandal.”

April 15, 1938 – Evening Star

Sports item: Fragile Carole Lombard makes a sucker out of strong Clark Gable at tennis…

April 16, 1938 – San Francisco Examiner

Clark Gable telephones Carole Lombard four times a day instead of twice a day…

April 16, 1938 – Nashville Banner

Walking down Hollywood Boulevard the other day, I couldn’t help wishing some of the fans could have been with me; for once, the stars seemed to be out in force. …

Clark Gable and Carole Lombard waved from Clarks’ station wagon…

April 18, 1938 – Pittsburgh Sun

Carole Lombard and Clark Gable will do a sketch, making love according to various directors, at the Tri-Guild ball this Thursday evening…

April 19, 1938 – The Evening Independent

The famous Valentine Ford which Carole Lombard gave to Clark Gable crops up in the news again. After turning down numerous offers for the machine, Gable finally presented it to the brother of an MGM publicity man. However, it is Harlan Fengler, the race driver, who now turns up with the car. He has rebuilt the motor, stripped the chassis and will write another chapter in the Ford’s unusual history by using it for a speed trial at Muroc Dry Lake.

April 22, 1938 – The Gazette

Jimmie Fidler in Hollywood

Just out of curiosity, I would like to know who is giving Carole Lombard bad advice. Until a few months ago she was the most down-to-earth young lady whose name ever blazed in lights. She talked to anyone and everyone, cooperate with every studio request, and, in short, displayed so much common sense that I classed her as a Hollywood miracle.

Seemingly her attitude has changed. Publicity men are beginning to complain that she is “hard to handle.” She has announced that she will grant no more interviews to the press, and she is being accused of “temperament.”

I think Carole ought to devote a quiet evening to a heart-to-heart talk with the happy-go-lucky, lovable girl she used to be. I believe she has too much fundamental honesty to antagonize the people who have helped her climb to the top.

April 24, 1938 – Pittsburgh Sun

Think nothing of it if you see Carole Lombard and Clark Gable stopping by the valley post office to pick up Carole’s latest bulletin from her correspondence course from the University of California. Two hours later you’ll probably find them at the local movie and at the leading ice cream parlor afterward.

April 25, 1938 – The Ogden Standard

Carole Lombard and Clark Gable drove in Clark’s station wagon to San Diego for deep-sea fishing…

April 26, 1938 - The Los Angeles Times

Carole Lombard Travels Incognito

Carole Lombard stepped out of her real-life character when she played the role of Kay Winters in “Fools for Scandal,” the Mervyn Leroy comedy that opens Thursday at Warner Brothers Hollywood and Downtown theaters.

Making her first appearance on the Warner lot, Miss Lombard portrays a leading movie star so popular that she has to wear a dark wig in order to get about unobserved.

In real life the actress has often resorted to ruses of a similar nature, generally in Hollywood.

Showing with “Fools for Scandal” will be the “headline” expose. “Accidents Will Happen” featuring Ronald Reagan, Gloria Blondell, Dick Purcell, and Sheila Bromley.

April 29, 1938 – The Morning Herald

Quite a gathering of celebrities at (the House of Murphy) the other night…. Fields and Mack Sennett at one table and, right next to them, Carole Lombard, Clark Gable and the Buster colliers. Carol, who used to be a Sennett girl, staged a reunion with her old boss.

#clark gable #carole lombard #1938 #old hollywood #pictured

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bisexualcage · 2 years ago

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Bliss | Sierra Six (requested)

pairing: sierra six/court gentry x male reader (trans male/masc)

summary: in which sierra six has a husband, simple as, very soft

warnings: no warnings, maybe like one nsfw joke

word count: 1.4k

a/n: be nice, this is my first fic on here

You loved how unconventional he was socially speaking, if you’d put him in a room full of extroverts he’d stick out like a sore thumb. Completely out of his element and that’s how you found your way in to his life; by him being the usual mystery that he is. Sparked up a conversation with him at a bar and bam, you were completely enthralled by his short yet intriguing answers. Above all, his distinct sense of humour. It made you smile. And despite being the polar opposite of him, you managed to win him over somehow. When he wasn't "hunting down evil guys," as he put it, he had a normal married life, two years to be exact of pure domestic bliss with you. He insisted on taking more breaks and stressed the importance of not missing out on you or any other more important aspects of his life. Every time he said it, you got butterflies in your stomach.

“Do I have to wear anything special?” you looked over at him with unease in your eyes, you wanted to make a good impression.

“It’s just a dinner, y/n.” The blond man timidly smiled at you from the bed he was sitting on. Observing how much of a wreck you were trying to pick something out from your closet.

“I know! But what if your boss doesn’t like me—“ You flung your hands in the air as your back faced him and you shuffled through the mountains of clothes.

You then heard a chuckle and a heavy set of boots approaching you, your neck immediately getting goosebumps as he lazily laid his chin on your shoulder and wrapped his muscular arms all around your chest— keeping you in a lock.

“I like you, ts’ all that matters.” he mumbled, closing his eyes and swaying back and forth with you.

You scoff, a blush pooling your cheeks. “I hope so, we’re legally bound. No take backsies.”

“You’re my husband. He’ll have to swallow it.” he mumbled.

“Does he know?” you questioned, “Also, don’t say that phrase.” you blushed.

“That i’m married? yes. Why? Did I say something wrong?” he teased, tightening his grip around your hips.

“Court…I swear to god…”

—

The restaurant was fancy alright, you felt like you just entered some rich people event. Chandeliers everywhere, long staircases, it didn’t even seem like a restaurant. You finally settled on a simple tux with a bow and Court well, he wore something completely eye candy. A red suit with a white dress shirt underneath, you were trying your best not to stare but it was beginning to be impossible.

As you approached to what appeared to be a circular table, you saw a man with white hair and beard, roughly maybe in his 60s. He was sitting next to a black woman— you assumed they were both his associates or bosses? Either way, your nerves started rising and you didn’t know yet how you were going to act around them.

When you approached the table with Court at your side, he instinctively pulled a chair out for you and you immediately went red in the face but sat regardless and mumbled a shy thank you.

“You know a hello would be nice, Six.” the white haired man gazed at Court about his usual dry behavior.

The two in front of you didn’t stop staring and sported the biggest of confused faces on this planet. Court scoffed and took a seat right next to you.

“Boss.” he nodded his direction, “Boss.” he looked over at the woman.

They both nodded back with a certain level of stiffness while trying to figure you out and not looking at Court. Court of course took notice of them staring at you like statues and cleared his throat so they would shift their gaze.

“Fitzroy…” he looked at the man, “this is Y/N. Cahill… this is Y/N.” he then looked at the woman with a slight smile.

“Yes- Hi.” You stumbled over your words, stretching your arm over the table and taking their hands in for a shake.

“Y/N…nice to meet you, although i’m a bit confused not going to lie.” Fitzroy chuckled a bit.

Court shifted in his seat, scooting himself more in to the table and at your side. Placing a warm hand on your nerve ridden thigh that was under the table as some sort of emotional support, he could see how nervous you were.

“…about what?” Court said nonchalantly, raising his eyebrow at him.

“I thought you said you were going to finally bring your spouse, let her have dinner with us.” he took a sip of his wine cup on the table.

“Fitzroy…” Cahill said lowly, looking over at the unaware man with a knowing look that only screamed ‘you’re a dumbass.’.

“What?” he nervously laughed, “Why did you bring a buddy over?”

At this point you didn’t know if you wanted to run out or scream.

Court laughed for the first time, but it wasn’t a joyous laugh it was a bitter sarcastic laugh.

“You’ve been on this field for decades and you can’t tell what’s right in front of you?” Court slid his hand from your thigh all the way to your hand and brought it up the table, clasping his fingers through yours, laying it on the table and showing the man the ring that lived on your ring finger for two years now. Still, as he laid it there he didn’t let go and held on to it proudly.

“Oh-“ Fitzroy gasped, “Ohhhhhh. I’m so sorry about that, you see i’m an old timer and I easily miss modern…traditions. That’s my fault.”

“Yeah this is my husband. Not my buddy, not my friend, my husband.” Court said with sternness in his voice and fiddled with the ring on your finger.

“Honest to god, I didn’t mean to assume.” He put his hands up laughing.

All the while you couldn’t help but have the biggest cheesy smile on your face, he really just went all out without any shame. Not that he ever had any when it came to you, but it always made you swoon. Court looked over at you momentarily and sent you a sly wink before opening the menu.

“Fitzroy has nothing but bolts in his head. Shake it hard enough and you’ll hear them clashing against his skull.” Cahill said in a sarcastic tone.

You couldn’t help but lightly snort, “I wouldn’t be too harsh, im sure it was a simple mistake.” you tried to be as understanding as possible.

“I need to know something though, how do you deal with the number (Court)? How did you tame such a nonchalant machine?” Cahill continued with curiosity.

“ha. Well, I don’t think it has anything to do with me mam-“

“Don’t be silly.” Court spoke up, “It has everything to do with you, I’m like a lovesick puppy— it’s bad.”

“I always knew you were a softy on the inside. Those blue icy eyes don’t fool me.” Cahill laid back on her chair.

“Tell me about it, had to hold him while watching Lion King.” You looked over at him, he was beat red, trying to hide his face behind the menu.

“Watch it. You’re ruining my carefully built reputation of a tough guy.” He said lowly, but could tell he was smiling.

“My niece would agree, she cried during Lion King— begged me to watch it with her about 300 times.” Fitzroy finally chirped in after his embarrassment earlier.

“You have a niece?” you said with a smile.

From then on everyone got pretty relaxed and everything went smoothly, all the worries you had melted away and Court made sure of that. By either massaging your back, your thigh, publicly grasping your hand on top of the table with no care in the world. It made you beyond happy.

As you were both about to leave, split checks to pay with the other two and finally said your goodbyes, Court instinctively held your hand in his and guided you out, with no worries, no rush. No matter who was staring. You both stood outside and shivered as a cold wind hit your figure, making your teeth tremble.

“Want my suit?” he asked with worry and didn’t even wait on a response, immediately laying his red suit over your shoulders.

“All this PDA…” you mumble, turning red.

“What?” he scoffed, “I can’t love my husband in public?”

“No, it just…even after two years, it makes me feel like i’m dreaming.” you look away from his soft gaze.

He walked in front of you, wrapping his suit more tighter around you. “That’s my plan, sweetheart.”, he leaned in and pressed his soft lips against yours.

#the gray man #sierra six x y/n #sierra six x you #sierra six #sierra six x male reader #there needs to be more x trans male fics #courtland gentry x reader #court gentry #sierra six x reader

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donutloverxo · 3 years ago

Text

A Royal Scandal 2

Modern royalty au

(Image from Pinterest)

Cowritten with @lizzygal

I'm so sorry! I made a mistake while posting this yesterday so I'm reposting it now. Hope y'all enjoy💖

Note - Since y'all liked it so much we've decided to post this fic on both ao3 and my tumblr! There will be no taglists for this however💖 You can subscribe to the ao3 story to receive updates!

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

Summary - Modern ruler, His Majesty King Steven G Rogers, is on a quest to make his long term secret relationship the real thing. He is a man in love and wants his lover and partner to be his queen.

Warnings - Smut (m/f), dub con/non con, sex tape, scandals, mentions of past domestic abuse, soft dark Steve, possessive Steve, spanking, power imbalance, Mentions of previous domestic abuse.

Pairing - King!Steve x reader

Word count - 8k

To be fair, Steven could understand why his mother was so upset after watching the entire footage from the royal steam rooms. He had a far better understanding after having seen the footage in question. The one that had led to his mother’s reaction that very morning.

Seated beside Carol on the ride back, he slipped in his wireless earbuds and pulled up the first video he found online on his phone.

A separate car had been sent for you for whenever your meeting completed. However, he had a whole series of his own back at the palace before his day could be considered over in the administrative offices. Days were never really over for him. Should anything happen somewhere in his nation, he would be informed. As was expected for a ruler.

Until then, he had fifteen or so minutes to kill till he arrived back at the royal palace, depending on city traffic.

Which was how he found himself watching what was obviously some sort of hidden camera. As the royal banya did not have CCTV cameras. Steve found himself making a mental note to himself to ask Carol about it.

After he watched the video.

He had the feeling that this would not be going away anytime soon. Therefore, he needed to know what was on there if he was going to have to defend his actions, or even speak about it.

It was somewhat surreal watching himself walk into view wearing nothing. Not even a towel. Talking with someone who was obviously you.

Based on where the camera was located, Steve could tell it was somewhere in the hallway that led from the steam rooms into either the showers or locker room. Thank all the saints above your back was to the camera. Half of it anyway. You were standing at a turn in the hallway, leaning against the wall. Half of you hidden. A towel wrapped around your body.

Thanking those saints above still that there was no sound, Steve watched on as a voice narrated the video, some celebrity blogger dissecting the footage as if it were a pivotal moment in some sporting event.

Steve watched himself turn to face you, facing the camera too and exposing his entire self to the world.

Not that he was ashamed. He had nothing to be ashamed about. Steve was built tall and powerful like his father and mother’s father. He kept himself in shape and as for the manhood that hung heavy between his thighs, he refused to be embarrassed by that either. The blogger however did have several opinions about what she referred to as, the royal sword.

She also seemed to be very opinionated when Steve watched himself kneel down in front of you. He’d never watched himself go down on you before and found himself transfixed, easily able to ignore the blogger’s excited rambling.

For once, Steve watched your hands sink into his hair as he sank between your legs. He watched your pleasure grow and grow, he watched you sag back into the wall and reach up, grabbing at it like a cat stretching out in the hot sun.

Seeing it happen like this? Steve felt like a voyeur. He felt like he was doing something wrong. And then, he watched you climax on his face. He watched your hands tighten up against the corner of the walls meeting. He watched himself stand and no longer noticed the commentary as he sheathed himself between your legs and proceeded to pound you into the wall without mercy.

His attention caught on one little inconsequential thing. Watching one of your legs that wound over his thigh bounce wildly each time.

Quickly he exited out of the video and blog. Unwilling to watch more. Pulling a bud from his ear, he glanced over at Carol who was watching the city fly by her window.

“Have you inquired as to if the palace guard has looked into how the video was taken in the royal banya?”

Blonde hair dusted her shoulders as she looked at her king. Carol answered without a second of hesitation. “Already done Your Majesty. The camera was found this morning. A webcam of some type. It’s been sent away for fingerprints and I have the best IT professional I know looking into it, to determine if we can track down who it belongs to. The royal guard has also launched an investigation into all palace employees.”

“Thank you,” he answered her with complete sincerity.

Captain Danvers had been at his side since he assumed the throne and had proven herself hundreds of times over. She was his confidant. She was his bodyguard. She was his closest thing to a friend, if Steve could say he had such a thing. He could tell Carol anything. He had told Carol about you. Carol had told him about her sick mother and in return, Steve have given her a cottage on palace grounds while providing a nurse. So that Carol would be able to spend as much time as possible with her mother in her final days. Carol still lived on the palace grounds in that cottage down by the gardens.

“I’ll let you know when I know something,” she assured him.

***

Your return to the palace felt like it took forever. Mostly because your panties were very obviously damp from leakage and you were greatly concerned about a wet stain. The modern equivalent of a scarlet letter. Letting everyone know what you’d done.

Twice you’d checked in a bathroom along with every mirrored surface you came across.

Alas, it seemed you were in luck.

No one would know that you’d had inappropriate contact on a workday, or think you’d had an accident. Granted if someone would have noticed you planned on blaming your monthlies.

By the grace of the many women who came before you, you managed to get back to the palace without being caught and were about to go change your panties when a familiar face popped into your office.

“Hey! You’re coming! I’m not taking no for an answer!”

Wanda.

Bright red hair and a brighter red dress that was far from office appropriate appeared in your office, leaping in like an acrobat leaping onto a stage. Making you look up from where you stood behind your desk, digging through your handbag.

A bunch of different thoughts buzzed through your head.

What was Wanda talking about? Where did she want you to go? Did Wanda wear that mini-dress to work? Cause it was about five inches too short and did downright sinful things to the girls. Wanda could always pull off anything. She looked amazing in clubwear, sweats and those tea-party dresses that Jackie O was always wearing.

“Coming?” Fell from your lips in a valiant attempt to stall till you could make sense of what was happening. “What are you not taking no for an answer for this time?”

In your roommate swept like a hurricane.

“It’s practically six!” She declared, as if that was supposed to mean something to you. It had you staring at her and waiting for more information. Hands paused in their hunt for clean panties and a pantyliner in your bag’o’stuff. “No more talk of this fake boyfriend. You and me are going to go have dinner. We’re going to hit the bars to pre-game and then to the clubs! Everyone is going so you are too!”

Such news had you freezing in your patent leather pumps.

Pre-gaming? Dinner? Clubs? Everyone?

How?

It was only Thursday and then you remembered.

It was a long weekend. The winning of some great victory over the Germans from the big war that you only kinda remembered hearing about. Mostly because you’d been busy with the border issue and the education overhaul. You’d known that it was coming up and the entire four-day weekend would be spent celebrating.

Wanda saw your face. She saw what you were thinking. She was practically a mind reader. Which led her to pointing at you scoldingly. “No! No no no! No checking emails or messages. No more work. No! We’re going out tonight and we are going to have fun! You remember what fun is? Right?”

But…you really did have emails and messages to check. You actually did have a ton of work to do. Granted you always had emails and messages to check, plus work piling up. It was the nature of your job. Helping in the running of a country was a 24/7 gig.

“Wanda…”

“Nope!” She declared, marching on into your office and behind your desk to chase you out. Shooing you. Literally making you hop away and grab your handbag because you just knew Wanda wasn’t letting you back near your desk. That much was for sure.

Like a sheepdog, she herded you around your messy desk as you attempted to protest, to get her to listen, to inform her that you really really did have a good bit of work to do.

“Wait…hold on…wait, Wanda…just one second…gah!”

“No more protests! I’m not going to hear it anymore! I refuse to let you hide behind work or the fake boyfriend.”

More protests came from you. You tried. You really really did. But Wanda was shoving and pushing and hip bumping you out into a hallway that did not look like an office building, instead, it was very obviously a palace.

Your heels clicked on polished white marble that shone. Walls were cream and had priceless art hung around, gold gilded borders ran up along where the ceiling met the walls. Light fixtures were old, bronze and cut glass. Furniture that belonged in Sotheby’s was sparsely decorated around the halls.

Door were old and creaky up and down the halls, wooden with locks that required big iron keys.

It was unlike any other place you’d ever worked.

You could feel and see and even smell the smokey history oozing from the walls.

A few people were hurrying out of their offices and locking the doors behind them, which Wanda didn’t even let you do as she went on indignantly. “No! Nope! Clint from Tinder will not wait forever! He digs foreigners and he has a job and he loves to dance!”

At mention of Tinder, your gut lurched.

Dear god not this again.

Why had you ever agreed to let Wanda make you a Tinder profile? At the time it seemed so reasonable. Let her make the profile and she’d get off your ass about your alleged imaginary boyfriend. Problem solved! How on earth were you to know she’d be on the damn app making matches for you?

“Why don’t you go out with Clint from Tinder,” you wanted to know, earning yourself a roll of Wanda’s eyes as you were dragged down along the hallway to the massive marble stairs. Looking as if they’d been carved from one piece, smoothly curling down a floor to the ground floor. Large chandeliers hung with cut glass that threw light everywhere. A massive painting hung up on the large wall of a long dead large royal family in the palace of past.

“He’s not my type. But he is absolutely your type.”

Somehow you doubted that.

Sighing deeply and focusing on not snapping your ankle on the stairs and in your heels, you followed Wanda down, mixing in with the few stragglers who were leaving work and making mental notes to text Steve and let him know you’d be late coming back to the palace that night. You were then planning when you could check your work emails and work-phone messages. That had to be done in a quiet place where no one could overhear. Maybe you could go out to the club and feign a tummy ache? Then sneak away from Clint? It’d probably be much easily to sneak away from Clint than Wanda.

Click. Click. Click.

With every step you maneuvered down your heels were noisy. You’d managed to fling your sizable bag over your shoulder and just knew Steve was going to be annoyed with you. But he was an adult. Being adults meant the two of you would have to do things that you didn’t want.

“So help me, if it kills the both of us, you and I will be going out tonight and having a fun time! This is a celebratory weekend! There are festivities going on all over the city!” Wanda went on, yanking you along behind her upon reaching the bottom step and heading in the general direction of the ground floor exits.

Hurrying along behind her, you followed but you weren’t happy about it.

God did you have so much work to do and you really really wanted to spend the night with Steve. And maybe if you gave in to Wanda, she’d get off your ass about your fake boyfriend? Wait, no, your secret boyfriend, because Steve was very real, you just didn’t want to be eviscerated all over the internet and tabloids for dating a king.

You’d seen what happened when a pretty actress had dated then married a prince who didn’t rule his country. The only thing you had going for you was Steve’s country was still looked at with some serious side-eye from the world, due to past events and rulers. Plus, he wasn’t a young prince that had grown up before the eyes of the world. He was a son of a tyrant, a citizen of a sizable nation the world still viewed suspiciously with a questionable human rights record.

“You’re going to love the club! It’s totally new and they open at ten. Meaning we can have plenty of time with the girls!”

Girls?

As in plural?

Because of course this would be a group event. Wanda never half-assed anything.

“Wanda…” you began.

Before Wanda could turn her attention on you, loud shrill lady screams came and you were greeted to the sight of Maria, Okoye and Pepper. All three threw up their arms and grabbed Wanda in a big hug, yanking her away from you and freeing you from her grip.

Loud girl screeches followed.

There was group hopping and hugs and laughter.

It should have made you realize that it’d been so long since you had a fun girls night. It should have reminded you that you were young and your life shouldn’t be all about work and sneaking off with your boyfriend whenever the two of you were able to.

Your heart should have been warmed by the sight of your palace coworkers who were clearly part of the aforementioned Girls.

How long had it been since you had fun?

How long had it been since you’d had a night out on the town?

What were you doing?

Were you jumping and screeching and hugging too?

No.

You were digging into your handbag so you could text Steve real quick. To let him know about your change in plans before he began to think you’d bailed because you were a coward and got cold feet.

Just as your fingers touched the smooth surface of your iPhone…

A noise caught your attention.

Movement.

Peering up to the side at the wall, or what you’d assumed was a hallway wall since you were in another hallway nearly identical to the one upstairs. All while the hugfest continued. You noticed that the wall was at a weird angle. As if it were opening up on a hinge and by the time you realized that the wall was actually an opening to a hidden passageway, a hand grabbed your elbow and yanked you in.

No more than a soft squeak came from you.

In you tumbled.

Into a dimly lit hallway that was actually a passageway you found yourself. With a metal sounding click the wall slid back into place and a big hand fell over your mouth. Making you immediately panic, immediately reach up to grab the hand that was silencing you. Making an arm band around your chest and pull you flush back against a broad muscular body.

“Did you honestly think for one moment that I would allow you to go get drunk with Wanda? Or go to a club with a man that she met for you on Tinder?”

Steve.

It was Steve.

His faint aftershave still burnt your nose but paired with the masculine scent that was him, you relaxed only a little bit, just a smidge.

How the hell did he know all of that? Had he bugged your office? Was he following you?

Deep in your chest your heart pounded wildly. Your skin was on fire. Even though it was dimly lit, you swore you could see each nail and groove in the wooden walls of the hidden passage.

Steve’s shoes were soft on the carpeted floor. Yours however never reached. Your legs dangled. Desperately you stretched out to try and reach your toes down, but alas, Steve was holding you up and was simply that much taller than you. Easily holding you up as he carried you.

His voice an angry snarl, a seething whisp against your ear. “That is so disappointing my love. A failure on both our parts,” came his angry voice. Walking with sure footing and a quick pace through the only barely lit halls.

Turning here and there, quickly and suddenly, until you were very much lost.

A protest came from behind his palm that was crushed against your mouth. Your blood heating with every passing second till it felt as if it were boiling. All that sudden fear was turning into anger at this treatment.

“I’ve clearly failed you if you’re unable to announce with nothing but the utmost certainty that you’re both in a relationship and have no desire to go out clubbing with whomever Clint from Tinder is.” The word clubbing was spat out, as if Steve found it vile on his tongue. “As for you? Yesterday we were discussing where to go for your birthday and today, you refused to answer one of my calls! You have work to do tonight to make up to me your behavior today!”

Further down the hidden passageway you were unceremoniously carried pulled to his front. Your brain racing at warp speed.

You had work to do? You had to make up for your behavior?

Had he lost his damn mind?

Had he not seen the video of his naked nether-regions all over the internet? Or the sex that made the footage a sex tape? The two of you were now amateur porn stars and he was mad that you? Because you were trying to be lowkey until the entire situation blew over? Steve was mad because you were being reasonable?

A most valiant attempt was made to free yourself.

You struggled. You kicked. You flailed and shrilled behind the hand over your mouth. No longer taken by surprise or frightened. Now you were growing angry.

On top of being terrified of being found out in that footage and ridiculed by the world, or worse, chased out of this country by a horde of angry people who didn’t agree with you being the kings choice as not only a foreigner, but one from pretty humble roots. You were upset that the world saw such an intimate moment between the two of you and even if Steve didn’t care that his junk was all over the internet, you cared. You cared a great deal. The royal junk was your junk. It was bad enough you had to know he’d dated women before you who’d seen him nude and were intimate with him, but now the world? It was simply too much for you to comprehend.

Steve slowed and turned, using his elbow he made something pop and a slight crack of light where there was obviously another hidden door in the wall appeared.

Using his broad shoulder, Steve pushed the door open and stepped out into a hallway that led down to the royal chambers and split off.

With his knee, he shoved the hidden panel shut and tightening his grip on you, Steve hurried down that hallway.

A completely different one from where the administrative offices were located.

Rich wooden paneling covered the walls. Making everything appear warmer, lusher. An amber haze hung in the air.

Thick carpet was underfoot. Furniture spoke to its age but had been made with a quality that endured. Like this palace. Built when his land was called something else but had stood through time in proof of his claim to the throne.

Generations before him had ruled, claimed spouses and lovers in these halls, grown old and made history and now it was his turn.

Merely that knowledge had him growing excited in his slacks for a second time that day. All of your thrashing and struggling didn’t help. If anything, it sparked a part of his brain that insisted he ravish and conquer you in his royal bed.

Mouth pressed to your ear, till he felt amber and diamonds press against his lips. “I swear, I will spend the rest of tonight inside of you until things are as they were yesterday. Until you remember that when I speak to you in any manner, you answer. Considering how thoroughly you’ve consumed every last part of me, it is only fair.”

And then, in his slowed pace down the hall ever closer to the door that would lead into Steve’s Royal Apartment, he saw a portrait up on the wall that made him pause.

It was him.

Or his portrait from when he’d turned thirty.

There he stood looking down at you both. Dressed ceremonially in his crown, holding the traditional ruling scepter and wearing the robes from kings of past. Fur, jeweled toned fabric that he’d easily filled out with gold adornments, amber buttons and pipping on his shoulders.

What was most striking about this portrait compared to all the others of Steven throughout the palace, was he was alone in it and unlike all the others, at the time, he’d not been single.

Further making that internal fire burn hotter.

Making him stop and force you to look up at it with him. Framed in a gilded bronze heirloom. Up where he had to look at it to be reminded of what could have been.

“Look! Look!”

You stopped struggling and looked, were well aware of his mouth against your hair.

“See? See it? You could have been there with me. At my side. Wearing my crown. Wearing the robes and jewels of my grandmothers. My queen.”

And indeed you saw.

When you’d seen the finished portrait, you had been blown away at how your body reacted to the sight of your lover in his traditional uniform he only pulled out for big special events. How powerful he looked. How sexy he was wearing a crown, holding a golden scepter with an eagle on the end clutching a piece of amber the size of an egg.

The arm around your chest fell so he could point at the empty space in the picture beside him. “Look. Right there. That is where you would have been. Right there. At my side.”

His hand over your mouth still held you flush against him. Pulled tight against him.

That thought, that entire notion of you painted on a portrait, up there with Steve at his side. It was so surreal to you.

When it was just you and Steve it was fire and gold and everything was amazing. When it was King Steve and his Chief of Staff it was stimulating and exciting. You still weren’t sure about being queen. A queen! That wasn’t like being a princess or a duchess. A queen was different. Even the word felt different.

It made your heart start to pound wildly in your chest again. It made you breathe hard against the back of his hand. It made you have a physiological reaction.

***

This was not how Carol intended to spend her night.

It was not how she wished to start her off-time. Having given Val the update on all things that had transpired for the day as she handed off command of the Royal Guard to her fellow captain.

No sooner had she told Val everything, did one of the messengers from communications come hurrying in. A slip of paper in her hand. A note that changed everything for that night, that week and even that month.

It had left Carol walking through the royal apartments towards the Queen Mother’s rooms.

As she knew exactly what King Steven was doing and quite frankly, she wanted no part in disturbing that unless she absolutely had to.

Besides. The message that had been sent to the palace via royal envoy was meant for Her Majesty. It was best Her Majesty the Queen Mother figured out how best to deal with this coming…situation.

Compared to His Majesty’s Private Rooms, Sarah’s were all light and brightness. White marble and ornate touches. Colorful priceless paintings and large bouquets of fresh flowers in crystal vases. Soft plush furniture held little personal touches. A white chenille throw draped over her couch by a fireplace. Pink slippers sat on the floor. Books both new and ancient with various markers holding her place were scattered about. Fresh flowers. She loved fresh flowers. They were everywhere.

As expected, the door to the Queen Mother’s apartments were open.

Carol still paused outside of it to knock gently.

“Your Majesty?” She called out, looking at her watch to see that it was nearing seven. Around seven was when the queen took her dinner meal privately. Of course she’d leave the door open for kitchen staff to bring up food as usual. It wasn’t one of the nights that was reserved for Steve and his mother to have their dinners together.

After the death of her husband the former king, Sarah had effectively thrown open all the doors that he had imprisoned her with.

Her soft voice drifted out.

Delicate and gentle.

The Queen Mother sat in a large chair by a big window overlooking the city. Her pale hair pulled back at the nape of her neck. A string of pearls tightened and loosened around her fingers as she lowered the book she’d been reading. A pleasant smile came over her soft features.

Upon seeing the stone of Carol’s face, the queen frowned. “What is it? What is wrong?”

Only confirming that something was wrong, Carol shut the door and locked it.

Dinner had been brought up. Smells emanated from the queens private dining room off to the left. It reminded Carol that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast that morning. It had been that kind of a day.

Clasping her hands before her, she rocked back on her heels. “A message was sent by Her Highness Janet Van Dyne. She and her daughter will be at the palace tomorrow…”

Janet and Hope Van Dyne?

Steven’s former fiancée and her mother?

Two golden eyebrows rose, making Carol press on. “Her Highness is under the impression that they’ll be staying here? In the palace?”

All of this was new to Sarah.

She had not heard from Janet since Steve’s coronation. When she and her husband had been in attendance. Earlier that particular year, Hope had broken her engagement with Steven to run away with a Maharaja.

It’d been all over the tabloids.

A young princess of the Netherlands had broken her engagement to the crown prince of an incredibly traditional nation to follow her heart. Hope had spent many years splashed across tabloids and blogs with a handsome charismatic Asian Prince. She’d lost her royal title and gave tell-all interviews about how her family had forbade her from running away and how she’d never marry a man from infamous Rogers Royal Line. And then, oddly, she was back home with her family this year.

Sarah had found it unusual. Alas, she was a busy woman with a life of her own to keep her busy.

“Was anything else in the message,” Sarah wanted to know.

Carol shook her head.

It had been a simple message that was very to the point.

Sighing in a most un-Sarah-like sort of way. She set her book down on the arm of her chair and rose. Tall. Willowy. Pursing her lips. Her dress fell around her in a gauzy cloud.

“Do you want me to tell His Majesty?”

Pausing, the older women considered the question. Dare she tell her son? He deserved to know. Nothing good would come from this visit.

If it were Janet alone? Sarah would not be so suspicious. But Janet and Hope? And that they would come so last minute? After the release of this video footage from the royal sauna?

“Is my son with her?”

Silence.

Carol was quiet.

A noise came from the Queen Mother. A clicking of her tongue. Stepping into her slippers, she pulled the hem of her dress up. “I suppose I should not be surprised that you would keep this from me.”

More quiet came.

“I won’t ask. I’ll find out my own way and leave him be for now. Janet and Hope won’t be here tonight. This can be a problem for tomorrow, today has been difficult enough for us all. Let tomorrow be tomorrow.”

Let tomorrow be tomorrow.

On her other hand was her wedding band. A treasure itself. Now on the widow’s finger. It was so symbolic of the cage she’d lived in for the duration of her marriage.

Absentmindedly, she twisted the rings. “Have you eaten yet?” Pulling them up and down her hand. “I had hoped you would come. I had the kitchen bring up extra.” Off slipped the rings that she had to wear in public. In her hand they jingled until she set them down on a smoothly polished table.

With two heavy clicks, they bounced on the wood by a vase full of peonies. Freeing her for the time being.

“I missed you while you were away.”

A blush bloomed over her porcelain complexion at Carol’s words.

As she watched Carol lock the door to her chambers, a warmth bloomed within her chest. Such words were so simple. So honest. They were words she had not heard before in her life. In this new chapter however, in this new time in her life, she had become accustomed to kind words and compassion.

“I missed you as well.” She confessed, stepping closer and still keeping space between them. As some habits died hard. “Stay with me? Tonight?”

“There is nothing I want more, Sarah.”

***

As it turned out, now you were ready to talk.

However.

Unfortunately.

Steve was now past that point and was on a whole other page.

You found yourself protesting when he carried you into his bedroom like some manner of caveman would carry a slab of meat. Shrilling out when he yanked and ripped and tore at your dress, forcing it over your head after ripping fabric and popping buttons, till it was an unsalvageable heap of material and threads.

Which was an absolute tragedy.

You loved that dress.

You even pointed out that fact to him somewhere between the threshold of his bedroom and his massive bed that really was fit for a king.

It was so big!

A headboard wider than Wanda’s itty-bitty car was long. An elaborate collection of regal flourishes and shapes. Dark sheets so soft they were slippery awaited you as you screeched and hollered, letting out an outraged sound when your bra was popped then yanked roughly from you.

“Steven!” You admonished your king, toes digging deep into the thick carpet as you’d lost your shoes back in the hallway leading to his quarters.

This whole evening was going off the rails for you. There was no other way to put it.

Dim sconces on the wall lit the way. Highly effective mood lighting if you ever saw it. Allowing you to see the set in Steve’s face, the firm line of his mouth.

His fingers wrapped around the back of your neck so he could hold you close, ground out for your benefit. “All day long I tried. Calls. Messages. Texts. Did you want to talk? No. You ignored me. Now I do not wish to talk either.”

Pushing you forward, you found yourself stumbling but knew if you didn’t walk on your own, Steve would merely toss you up on his bed. Up on the sea of pillows. Framed by gilded silver and dark curtains that came down from above to allow for privacy.

“All day long you denied me. I’ll remind you what is mine until you’re thinking clearly again. Until we’re back where we were yesterday!”

“I’m ready to talk now! I’m in a place where I can discuss this with you! I am thinking clearly!”

Words were not needed.

Oh no.

Not when the king grabbed your hand, pulled your arm back and pressed your palm against his straining erection. Hot to the touch. Shockingly hard. Painfully so even you were willing to bet.

Your knees hit the bed and you were pushed forward till you fell over, till you wound up on the expanse of bedding in a tangle of hands and knees and that silky smooth material.

A big explosion came from Steve. Feeling like and you were flailing on your stomach, trapped beneath his oppressive weight and the bed. Fighting. Wiggling. Trying to get free from beneath him but bigger stronger arms had your wrists.

Something was being wrapped around your wrists that you couldn’t see, as your vision was impeded by the broad chest in your face. Right there. Blocking your line of sight. Pinning you down to the sea of grey until finally, finally, he was up and you were once more struggling, wiggling, jerking and finding that you were tied to the headboard.

You were tied to the headboard. You were naked and bound to his bed.

Silky fabric that was Steve’s tie bound your wrists snugly together and wove into the headboard, securing you there most soundly.

It was outrageous! It was absurd!

You were tied to his headboard!

It was a first for you.

When your gaze returned to your boyfriend and even that was now a bit questionable, you were greeted to the sight of Steve shedding his suit. Yanking off each garment without pause or care. A few tears were heard and he was far rougher than need be. A button or two may have flown off.

“You cannot be serious! That’s your plan? You’re going to take what’s yours? Are you serious? This is not the dark ages!”

Ignoring you, Steve shoved his slacks down his long legs. Allowing his rigid cock to bob obscenely. Causing an eyeroll to immediately come from you. A hint of something dark on his hip caught your eye. But it was only a flash and as he was moving, yanking off his suit jacket and fiercely ripping open buttons on his shirt, you couldn’t get a good look.

Was it a bruise? A tattoo?

Somehow you doubted kings were even allowed to have tattoos. Or that Steve even had the time to get himself permanently inked. When the hell did he get that bruise?

Momentarily distracted by him climbing up on the bed, you looked up to give your bindings a good hard yank.

No luck.

Steve’s weight was pushing you down. Shoving you into the bed. Pinning you down as you protested, implored and began to plea. Which was exactly what he wanted. After everything you had put him through today? You would beg. You would plead. You would forget all about that video.

“Open your mouth.”

It was an order.

It could be nothing less.

An absolute command that had your lips slowly parting as your eyes widened in surprise at the sudden treatment, this roughness. Steve held his painful erection in hand and pushed his tip to your lips. Pushed the red end of his cock sticky with precum past your lips. Till you were forced to open your mouth wider and wider for him. To take him deeper and deeper into your mouth.

Steve held your gaze and pushed his member in further. Straddling your chest and gripping his headboard in one hand, till it dug into his fingers. While his other hand grabbed your face to hold it tight.

You’d never be able to take all of him. He knew this. You’d never been able to no matter how much you’d tried. But he wanted to see how much he could fit in your mouth tonight.

“Don’t swallow. Don’t let me down again.”

Your mouth was so warm closing around him. Wet. Sacred. It made him want to close his eyes to sink in deep but Steve would not. He would do that soon enough. He would lose himself in your cunt soon enough.

A few small movements from his hips sank his cock deeper into your mouth. Filling your cheeks as you struggled. Until you found a motion of moving up and down his length, running your tongue along his sides. Wetting up his shaft till sloppy noises started to fill his ears and a small little dribble began to moisten the corners of your mouth.

Those blue eyes remained set on your own. Never once showing you mercy.

“Tomorrow. In the future. If I call or text, you will answer.”

There was no follow-up. Nor was it a question.

Long fingers that belonged on an artist or musician sank into your hair tightly.

All you could do was nod as drool rolled down your chin and you suckled his cock like you would a popsicle, without swallowing, sucking on his sensitive flesh as he liked and without the aid of your own hands to steady his member.

It was glorious and Steve could only slightly appreciate it. As the words that fell from his mouth were more important, more vital.

Feeling how wet your mouth was getting was fantastic. Absolutely. Your nimble tongue was a gift. No one had ever sucked his cock like you.

However…he was still frustrated, still angry, still hurt even.

He’d not worked his way through those feelings as of yet.

Perhaps? In your body?

Those feelings teased and taunted him with his unworthiness. Of how you hadn’t been firmer with your roommate. How you had allowed her to drag you down the stairs for a night out with possibly another man? It infuriated him. It sent his hips rocking into your mouth. It had his cock rubbing up along the back of your throat and made your eyes water.

No.

Steve would not lose you. He loved you too much to even entertain such a notion. No. Infact, he would make sure that he ruined you. By the end of the night, he would make certain that you’d never even amused the notion of being set up. He would be completely sure that when you left his chambers come morning, you would never be doubted when you told Wanda or anyone that you had a partner.

“I want to start publicly courting you. I want to be engaged this year. I do not want to hide any longer. When people look at you, I want them to know that you belong to me.”

Noises came around his cock that Steve knew were words and he did not care.

“Look at yourself.” Steve stilled, his words harsh, bitter even. “You have my cock in your mouth and I am completely at your mercy. Tied to the bed of kings because I cannot go one night without dreaming of you, fantasizing about your tight cunt and smooth skin. I would give you the world and all you want is nothing. You are the worst type of infuriating.”

As if to prove his point, he steadily pumped his pelvis up into your mouth. Each slide in pushed saliva and pre-ejaculate out, making it ooze from the seal of your lips around his erection. Against your throat his wet balls bounced. His ass rested on your chest and he could not get enough. More. He wanted more. He needed more. Craved more.

The urge to go harder was strong.

Steve wanted so badly to fuck you. To make you feel how much you drove him mad. How you caused him physical pain from longing alone.

With drool smeared down your chin and neck, never looking more beautiful in his opinion, Steve pulled his dick out. Done with your mouth for now. Needing more. Needing to grab your tits and to be closer to your face, looking closer into your eyes.

In a familiar sort of way, your throat bobbed.

“Did you just swallow when I specifically told you not to?”

A moment of hesitation followed from you that had Steve gripping your face, easing his body down yours but holding your slippery chin tight in his grip. Your eyes were wide. Again, probably without even realizing, you swallowed in nervousness.

“I’m…I’m sorry…”

“I’m sorry what,” he demanded, leaning down closer, licking the wetness from your chin and earning from you a most satisfying shiver that wracked your body.

“S-s-sorry, Your Majesty.”

His tongue was hot and wet on your chin. His body was heavy and hot on your own. Skin on skin contact made your brain short circuit. It was a miracle you could string those syllables together. With your hands bound so snugly to the bed. All you could do was take it. Take what he gave you.

Feeling him push your thighs open and position himself between your hips made you gasp. Words failed you.

And then words didn’t even matter because he was pushing into you. Claiming you. Taking what was his because you did belong to him. You belonged to him in every possible way.

A scream exploded out of you when he dove right in. Sank in till his crown was pressed up against the wall of your cervix. Deeper than anyone had ever been before. Hands were grabbing your ankles and spreading you wide. Spearing you on his cock. Stretching your body taut.

“So wet. You were made to take me. Made to take your king.” He whispered more to himself even though you heard. You would have heard a pin drop. You could hear your heart pound and blood rush through your ears, each gasp your lungs took. You could feel every last inch of him deep inside your core. Painfully stretching you open like this. Burning. Tingling. Twisting.

Hands tightened on your ankles till you looked up at Steve. Hovering over you like a pillaging warlord about to ravish his prize.

“You have till Monday to decide how you wish us to become public. I will not wait a day longer.”

Seeing you like this before him. Splayed out. Your pussy curled around his member, plump from being filled with your breasts round puddles up on your chest. It set his hips into a frenzy. Powerful thrusts were sent into your tight walls that made Steve grunt every time from the power behind his motions, from the sight of his cock vanishing up into you. Watching your pussy take him so hungrily as you cried out beneath him each time. Breasts swaying. Skin slapping on skin with the contact. Your hips jiggled, his headboard creaked, his balls slapped soundly against you both.

“Say it. Say the words to me. Say them!” Steve commanded you. Pieces of his hair falling and sticking to his sweaty forehead as he sank in to the very depths of you then pulled out, revealing a glistening shaft before slamming his member right back in where it belonged.

“Yes…yes…yes…yes…” you chanted, over and over, again and again with every thrust in, every withdraw that was like heaven and hell, your body needing him to complete this circuit only the two of you could create. “…yes…yes…my king…yes my king…”

Those words. They were a song to his ears and had your ankles slapped together. Those words had the backs of your thighs slapped wetly against his chest, your feet touching his shoulder as Steve continued to pound into you.

Pumping into your now closed thighs, into your tighter walls at this angle.

“Look!”

Dimly your eyes fluttered, you looked into his burning blue eyes.

“Look. Here.”

You followed his gaze to where he pointed, looking down at his pelvis, where his hip met his abdomen in that hard cut of muscle that was visible above his beltline. The one you loved to lick.

He did have a tattoo.

It took you a second to realize what you were looking at and focus, as his thrusts continued without mercy, pounding away, slamming into you without mercy. Shaking and pushing you into his bed.

Your writing was inked into his skin. Your very own signature.

Your name was forever scrawled into Steve’s skin and then, it hit you. Your climax took you by complete surprise. Your entire body went stiff. A pained noise came from you and you shattered all around his cock. Fingernails dug into your palm and you stared at your name in cruel ecstasy.

Steve fell too. You could tell from his thrusts getting wild, falling out of sync. You could tell because he swore out, clenched his face and held your thighs tight to his chest.

Pumping deeply into you while your body milked him for everything he had to give.

Making him merely a man in that moment with you.

Up on his headboard, you were tightly secured and would soon have bruises from arching up against the silk tie restraining you. Unable to do anything but feel and accept what your king was giving you. On your back. In a bed that past kings had slept in.

None of which was lost on you.

Not as your body felt leaden, filled with molten hot lava. Limp. Your secret garden continued to suck him in, clench around him and spasm, making your eyes roll up in your head, your body dig into his bed and words fall from your mouth.

In a most dignified sort of manner, your king humped into your body like a jack rabbit, chasing the last vestiges of his climax with coral wet lips and dark honey hair now damp with sweat.

A sight for your satiated eyes.

“Let me call my mother in the morning.” You breathed out slowly, as if figuring out how your lungs worked once more after a marathon. Your words making Steve still above you. Though your cunt did not. It twitched around his royal girth and you met his gaze from on his pillows. “Tomorrow you can have Maria release a statement saying whatever you want. Just let me tell my parents myself. They should hear from me that I’m not coming home.”

Whatever wind that may have held up his sails had clearly been withdrawn.

Almost tenderly now, Steve leaned forward to quickly loosen the silk around your wrists and free your hands from his headboard. Stretching out his long powerful body above you. Flushed red now. Glistening. Though he left his tie there. He remained inside of you too. Filling you and stretching you full.

Gently, he pushed your legs down until they wrapped around him and he was able to rest his weight most carefully on top of you. Pressing wet kisses to your nose, your cheeks and chin. Worshipping your face with delicate touches and caresses.

“I’ll fly them out here whenever you want. When we get back from Switzerland, I’ll have them waiting for you.”

Softly you answered, reveling in his softness now that your body had been given her reward, her treat, her pleasure from his roughness. Smelling the musk of his sweat and feeling the wet glide between your bodies.

Leisurely, your hands found their way up his muscular arms to his shoulders. “You know what I mean. I won’t ever be their daughter again. I won’t ever be Wanda’s roommate. I’ll have to quit my job. Nothing will ever be the same.”

Those words, well, they settled uncomfortably in him.

All of them were true.

You would be giving up so much. He would have to make sure to take care of you even more so, keep a closer eye on you. He would need to have a talk with his mother come morning.

“That’s true,” Steve softly conceded, rubbing his nose along your own. Barely grazing his lips over yours. A hint of a tongue touched you before his breath danced over your mouth. “We would be together though. Finally together. You. Me. Not hiding anymore.”

Speaking of hiding.

That word alone had you pulling away from his mouth to lean to the side, to get a look down at his Adonis belt. At the alluring groove that led down to his pubes where your name was now in black.

Nay, your signature.

As if sensing what you were after, your boyfriend tilted up a smidge. Enough for you to see but not enough for him to leave your body. Pray tell that couldn’t happen.

“When did you do this?”

“Do you like it,” Steve asked, as if your opinion mattered. Which was laughable considering how permanent it was.

He’d literally took your signature and had it tattooed on his body.

“Of course I love it. Now you have a part of me on you all the time.” An incredibly modern take on Steve’s royal jewel gift thing, but in reverse you thought. Then grinned as it sank in. “I can’t believe you did it though.”

Why wouldn’t he have done it?

Steve hadn’t thought twice when Maria had gone on about getting her late mother’s writing tattooed on her side, in a lasting forever tribute. Having your writing on him at all times had been an idea that hadn’t left him. Not until he’d had a tattoo artist praised for their work brought to the palace late the other night.

He wasn’t even going to lie, king or not, there was something downright satisfying about having something like this hidden on his body from all. Known only by you and him. A secret only for you two.

Bringing him right back to the thought that the biggest secret the two of you shared would soon be out.

Soon it would be public knowledge and that had Steve brushing his fingertips over your cheeks, kissing the swell of your cheekbone and moving ever just so to make a small moan come from you. “You’ll never regret this. I’ll love you for the rest of my life. I’ll devote myself to making you happy. You’ll never regret becoming my queen.”

#steve rogers x reader #chris evans x reader #steve x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers x you #marvel x reader #avengers x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #king!steve x reader #king!steve rogers x reader #king!steve rogers

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hitandrunduorp · 2 years ago

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An Angel Returns

Matt groaned as his head throbbed, the muffled sound of talking echoing around him. God, what happened? He hasn’t had a hangover like this in years-

Wait a moment, he hadn’t gotten drunk in a long while. Not since he settled down... Red-violet eyes fluttered open, the stinging florescent light burning and making the world washed out and blurred. God he felt cold... Wait, was he just in his boxers? That’s right, he and Sophia had just laid down for bed, so then what happened?

“Ma...Matt?” Eyes snapped open as he looked around frantically. There he was, tied down to a chair, and opposite to him, his dear fiancé in nothing but an oversized shirt, wrists and ankles tired to the chair she was in as well.

“Sophia?!”

“Matt, what’s going on?!”

“Well, well!” The blond’s gaze turned to the greasy looking worm that stared the two down, a wicked grin on his lips. “The main characters finally awaken~”

“You son of a bitch!” Matt growled, glaring at the pathetic excuse for a man. Of course he recognized the slimy bastard; a loose end he couldn’t track down after he toppled the group who killed his fathers. He knew he should have hunted him down more... The man scoffed as he turned, and Matt noticed the video camera.

“Ladies and gentlemen! For years we sat with baited breath as a devil rampaged our world, only for him to suddenly disappear a little over a year ago. We were lead to believe he died, but here he is, in the flesh! A little roach that just won’t die... at least, until today~” Matt’s eyes widened as he struggled against his bindings. Oh god, this wasn’t a trophy video... this was a public execution.

“M-Matt?!”

“Sophia, I’m sorry- Let her go! She’s got nothing to do with this!!”

“Oh, but doesn’t she~?” He sneered as he walked behind her, his hands on her shoulders causing her to flinch. “Quite the pretty ring she’s got, and you as well~ Engaged, are we~?”

“Get your hands off her!” He growled, feeling his blood boil.

“Sophia, is it?” The bastard hummed, before moving in front of her and kneeling down, a hand gripping her face. “Poor, clueless little girl; had he never told you? How he’s one of the most dangerous men of the underworld?” She struggled to pull her chin from the man’s grasp before her eyes widened.

“...he’s what?”

“Wanted by many, be it by governments or others from the shadows who’ve got personal vendettas against him.” He smirked as the woman’s face filled with a mix of disbelief and confusion. Getting up he motioned to the blond. “Go on; ask him yourself~”

“...Matt?” Her broken hearted words shattered Matt, and he bit his tongue for a moment.

“...It’s not like that-”

“Matt-” He flinched. The two of them rarely fought or had major arguments, always managing to talk through their issues... but they didn’t have that luxury this time as he tried to figure out a way out.

“It isn’t. Yes, I did a lot and got a reputation, but that fucker’s old boss destroyed my life as a kid. They killed the only family I had, and I made bad choices back then fueled by revenge. I was going to tell you the truth before we got married, but I didn’t know when or how to tell you...”

“Awe, you’re welcome for giving you the courage then~” Their kidnapper mocked as his gave, going from guilty to infuriated as he spat obscenities'. “What a poetic tale this is, isn’t it?” He asked the camera as Matt struggled more. Dammit, they didn’t spare on the ropes this time-

“...did you lie to me?” Matt looked at the brunette who stared at him. Those hazel eyes that always made him lose his breath whenever they stare at him, as if seeing into his soul.

“Never. I... hid details, but I’ve never lied to you.” Which was true. His wealth was inherited, he had a rough childhood and had future plans that went awry. “Hold on love, we’ll get out of here.”

“Matt...” Her voice sounded almost... apologetic? But he ignored it for now as the idiot continued talking to the camera as he looked around. Including the three of them, there were seven people in the room, the guards sporting guns and armor, though keeping a distance from the infamous blond. Dammit...

“Matt... it’s alright.” Eyes snapped back at the woman, a apologetic and sorrowful smile on her lips as he felt his blood freeze.

“No, it’s not- I’m sorry, I’m sorry” For the first time in so long, he felt tears stinging his eyes. He finally had the life he had dreamed of, with the most kind and loving woman. He can’t lose it, not like this. Not like this!

“Well, well! Who’d have thought we’d ever see the infamous ‘Angel of Death’ cry?!” The bastard cackled as he fought and struggled. His heard pounding in his ears as he watched in horror as the man walked to his love, this time noticing the gun in his hand. He wasn’t going to-?!

“LEAVE HER OUT OF THIS!” He screamed and begged. “She’s not a part of this, it’s me you want and you’ve got! Let her go! Please, LET HER GO!” He didn’t care about the tears that streamed down his face. Sophia swallowed her nerves, knowing it was time. She managed to offer him an apologetic smile- why?! This was all his fault!

“...I love you, Matthew.” She said softly, just barely heard by him as the gun was raised and his eyes widened.

“No, no no no-! Please no, not her! anyone but you! Sophia I’m sorry-!” He screamed before his voice was caught in his throat as the gunshot echoed in the warehouse. His breath his shaky as he watched her body do limp, blood already mixing and matting with her soft earthy locks, and drip down her temples. Everything seemed to be a thousand miles away as he felt his bindings cut off, and he stumbled out of the chair to the other, hands gently taking her head as he tried to wake her. This wasn’t happening... this couldn’t be happening...

“-even he can be broken! He’s no myth, no legend or reaper, he’s simply human. And for all to witness... he will die like the dog he is.” He felt the barrel against the back of his head, shattered red-violet eyes instead replaced with fury- no, even that paled in comparison to the rage he felt.

Before the trigger was pulled Matt stood and turned, a hand grabbing the gun as the other broke the bastard’s arm. The next five minutes were chaos; four armed guards unable to shoot without hitting their boss, only to all be put down by the blond with terrifying ease. The man attempted to escape, but another gunshot rang out accompanied by a scream and the sound of something hitting the ground.

Grabbing the knife from one of the bodies, he carefully cut the bindings off of his beloved and picked her up, moving her out of the camera’s view before the sound of dragging was heard, and Matt appeared on the feed again with the bastard now sobbing and begging for mercy.

“Really? You ignore mine, and expect me to consider mercy?” He sneered at the disgusting waste of space below him, before he turned to grab something. Dragging the chair he was originally seated in he lifted it with ease, letting it hover in the air for a moment that felt to last a lifetime, before slamming it down on the man. Before doing it again. And again. Over and over, repeatedly beating the bastard, not caring as the chair would break piece by piece, before all that was left was a groaning, sobbing mass of flesh, and Matt panting as his arms and torso were covered in splattered blood.

Panting heavily he finally tossed the last bits of wood away as he left the thing to it’s fate, grumbling as he searched the other bodies for something.

“Fuckin quit for a damn year even...” He could be heard growling before a small ‘aha!’ escaped him and he walked back to the camera, pulling the chair his beloved was in over and sitting on it backwards, letting his arms rest on the back of it as he lit a smoke and took a few long drags.

“...you know, I was perfectly fine ignoring you all.” He said matter-of-factly as he looked the cigarette over. “As I said; I wanted to avenge my fathers, and I did. Was going to let you fucks do whatever you wanted, and not have to worry about me being a threat to you. I think that was a good arrangement, eh?” He questioned the camera before taking another long drag. It’s sad, he loathed the taste, and yet a part of him missed it... stupid addiction.

“But no. Some little slimy bastard felt it was necessary to make a fuckin ordeal, didn’t he? Wanted to look like a god amongst men, isn’t that what he said?” He rolled his eyes as he looked over at Sophia’s body. His heart was ripped from it’s chest as he stared at it; his chance at happiness stolen from him. “So, here’s what’s going to go down. That little piece of shit? Has no fucked everything for all you motherfuckers. Anyone who was associated with him, or the old gang I destroyed? May as well take a bullet to your brain now, cause if I get to you first? I’ll make you wish I had any mercy left.” His gaze was empty, save for the twisted anger that would make the world tremble.

“Congratulations world; you’ve pulled my out of retirement. Matt LeBlanc’s back... and I’m making it all your problem now.” He smirked as he lifted the gin he still had, shooting the camera straight through the lens. Dramatic overkill? Maybe, but he always was one for theatrics. His smirk faded as the camera fell to the ground and he stood and walked over to Sophia, carefully picking her up. She didn’t deserve this. The children she looked after didn’t deserve this...

And angel returned to Heaven... and an angel returned to Hell.

#||incognito|| ooc||#||gathered intel; leblanc|| about matt leblanc ||#the story of Matt and Sophia #At least the final chapter of it #and the beginning of Matt's rise to true infamy and power #this act alone scared the underworld because he should have died there #there was no way anyone else could have survived #/and yet he did/

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cazzyf1 · 3 years ago

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My favourite quotes/quotes I find interesting from 'Niki Lauda and the grand prix gladiators'

"What is it that impels men like Niki Lauda? Or that makes him and his fellow drivers, James Hunt, Jody Scheckter, Patrick Depailler, Emerson Fittipaldi and a host of others, put their lives on the line in the world's most dangerous sport? Niki Lauda's dedication to racing almost ended at the Nürburgring circuit in August 1976, but he has fought his way back against incredible odds to maintain his position at the peak of his career. Thus book tells his story, and opens up the glamorous world of Formula 1 racing. A world which, for champions like Niki Lauda, is an all-embracing way of life" - page 1

"One of the large Ferrari team spoke to Niki 'They are taking your photograph' Something which for reasons outside Niki's own feelings, the team man wanted stopped. Bad public relations to expose the face? Not an up-market image for Ferrari? Niki looked evenly at him. "So they are taking photographs. Let them." - page 9

"Marlene was fantastic. I mean she could have come in and gone completely hysterical. But she was strong and gave me strength. And now our love is even stronger." - page 13

"One day when the nurse went out and left the door unlocked a photographer came in and took my photograph, I could do nothing. I just lay there. But this is not right, to make money out of other people's misery." - page 14

"Niki Lauda, physically small, and to look at not a man of great physical strength, let's the car do the work for him. 'I am not strong, but I am strong enough.'" - page 32

"An interesting indication of different racing styles can be seen in the hands of Lauda and Hunt. Lauda's are small, light boned, precise and smooth. Hunt's are large, muscular and with the hard callouses of an old-time blacksmith." - page 32

"On a visibly dangerous circuit Niki went out and put in the fastest practise lap. His girlfriend at the time, Mariella, was furious: 'you risked your life foolishly,' she berated him publicly. A sheepish Niki agreed, but now after one world championship and Nürburgring, his priorities have altered." - page 38

"Hunt murmured 'to hell with safety, all I want to do is race' Niki: 'We have been friends but he broke the rules. If you break the rules you are out. No argument. After Brands James shouts at me. This is not right. He should respect me as a driver. We have a job to do, bad feelings only makes it more difficult. You see James is on the safety committee, I asked him to come to a meeting and he refused, this makes driving more difficult for everyone." - page 56-57

"This conversation took place in a restaurant which over-looked James Hunt's room. As I was about to ask him another question he interrupted me. 'Someone is trying to break into my room.' We both looked down at his room. A good-looking, long-legged blonde was trying to climb through the window. 'Ah well,' he said philosophically. The racer's life is just one dammed thing on top of another." - page 71

"Niki gets his will power and determination from his grandmother, she was the strong one." - page 72

"The women in my life have softened my character, made me less obstinate." - 73

"He is, unlike many sports people in the public eye, understandably reluctant to turn all of his life over to public domain. 'I do my job racing and then I want my private life.'" - page 74

"'Mr Lauda, could I ask you about your wife?'

'Yes'

'Mr Lauda, is it true that when she first met you she thought you were a champion tennis player?'

'No'

'But I know when she first met you she thought you were a tennis champion.'

'No'

'Tennis player then.'

'No'

'But I read this article which clearly stated that when your wife first met you she thought you were a tennis champion and came up to you and said...'

'It is not true'

'But this article was printed...'

'That does not make it true.'

He looked directly at the reporter and waited for the next question.

'Perhaps she thought you were a champion tennis player?'

'Then you will have to ask her'" - page 74

"He told me he was a racing driver and I did not know what it was all about. You see I saw him at a party and I thought he was nice so we spoke." - (Marlene on meeting Niki) page 75

"I had a girlfriend before I met Marlene. And I loved Marlene more than her, so everything was simple then' There is a lack of guilt here which is either lamentable or praiseworthy'" - page 75

"I have a more sensitive arse than other people." - page 80

"Niki is more likely to become a village dustman than talk about his sex life." - page 81

"We human beings have many resources of the spirit which we do not use. I try to use them." - page 86

"The pressure on Niki to win now must be quite extraordinary, which may be what led him to say, 'One day I may suddenly decide that it is all crazy, then I quit.'" - page 92

"Niki has an extremely good memory for every track he races on...his memory is percise, mathematical in its precision, and seems to unroll like the replay of some film in his mind." - page 95

"I treated him as a normal sensible person and he fucked me up. Niki treated him as a half-wit and the man respects him for it." - page 97

"So Niki waits and harasses his opponent." - page 100

"Comes the chequered flag, the obligatory champagne (which, it can be revealed now, Niki never drinks: he pretends)" - page 102

"At the same motel I tried to telephone Niki; the switch-board operator would not put me through.

'Mr Lauda is sleeping, he cannot be disturbed.'

He really does take his sleeping seriously." - page 110

"'One Hamburger, please.'

'You can't order hamburgers after five.'

James blinked in disbelief." - 116

"Niki travels and then gets into a mental routine some time before a race and, as mentioned, when the race comes nearer is not all that approchable. Marlene at this point melts into the background." - page 123

"I can't go out anywhere without people asking for an autograph. If I go our for coffee it is autographs. So I stay at home." - page 123

"Marlene views living with the iron-willed Niki as very easy. Because of her own strong will? I asked. 'Oh no I am not strong-willed.' Yet a little while later there was a brief argument in which not more than ten words were exchanged. It was perfectly obvious this was a clash of temperaments on an epic scale. Marlene walked out slightly red and controlling her anger. Niki continued talking about the car." - page 123

"Before I was married I had girls, yes. I always chose them. But now I am a good married man." - page 125

"Niki Lauda somewhat sourly: "Yes, someone looks after my house when I am not there. They use it more than I do." - page 125

"Niki: 'I do not know what a friend is. In motor racing you have a lot of friends when you win. You have no friends when you lose. The friends you have when you lose are only there because they think you will win again. What is a friend? A friend is someone who loves for you day and night and vise versa. I would not be able to do this so I have no friends, I am handicapped by my Job.'

And Marlene?

'That is different, she is my wife. I married her because I loved her and she loves me. She is strong like me. But this is love not friendship.'" - page 126

#niki lauda #classic f1 #retro f1 #vintage f1 #f1 #niki quotes

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cierrabiscuits · 4 years ago

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Koutaro Bokuto x Fem Reader: Eligible Bachelor

Summary: Some of the MSBY team are scheduled at a charity event and are auctioned off for dates, you being the manager go with them. The team is well aware of your crush on Bokuto and put a plan in motion. What’s the worst that can happen.

Words: 5.1K

Warnings: Angst if squint, happy ending, MSBY 4 being sold as dates for Charity.

Authors Note: Hello! This is my first time posting a fic so go easy on me, I hope you all enjoy it and get a good laugh out of it like I did! This is part of a collab with @ambershaydeoffical! Please support all the talented writes who participated.

Update: I made a route for Sakusa! Find that here

Update: I made a route for Atsumu! Finda that here

Story

“Alrighty boys are you ready to go on in?” You said staring at the four well dressed men behind you.

“No, and I want to go home.” Sakusa adjusted his black facemask. He wasn’t keen on coming to this event whatsoever.

“Sakusa I know, but I really need you! Besides what would you be doing anyway? It's Valentine's day and you're as single as single gets. Live a little. Maybe you will find your Mrs.Clean tonight! Ya never know!” You said as he rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“Omi-Omi don't be that way. Our lovely manager here worked hard to get us this opportunity, and it's benefiting a charity you scrooge.” Atsumu smacked Sakusa’s back.”I think your just upset because you know all the ladies are going to bid on me.” The blond setter smirked at the very pissed Sakusa who just glared at him.

“NOoO It's going to be me who gets all the bids. I still have my tan from Brazil and I’m alot cooler than all of you.” Hinata piped up, proudly adjusting his tie that had little volleyballs on it.

“Well if we don’t get our asses in that building, aint none of y’all getting any bids, besides I’m freezing to death,” You said rubbing your arms. The dress you wore done little to protect you from the cold night.

“Take this please, I don’t want to freeze to death. I like you warm and alive.” Bokuto, who's been oddly quiet, spoke up wrapping his grey tux jacket around your shoulders leaving him in his blue button up. You could smell his cologne on the jacket, you could drown in this and wouldn't complain. Your cheeks ran hot and you managed to let out a “thank you” through chattering teeth.

“Okay let’s get going.” You said wrapping the jacket tighter around you as the boys followed you like baby ducks. Bokuto walked up beside you while the two boys bickered over who would have the most bids in the back, Sakusa wanted no part in it and stayed to himself. You look at Bokuto who seemed nervous. You decided to hype him up a bit before he went into emo mode. “Bokuto you are going to have some gorgeous high profile women coming after you tonight, I’m jealous of them.” You didn't lie, you had the biggest crush on Bo, ever since you took the job as the MSBY manager. You never have a frown on your face next to him- until now. You knew he’d have a woman, that's not you, by his side tonight. You’d bid on him until your bank went in the negative but you don’t get paid like the women at this event do.

“You wait and see, I’ll have the most beautiful one by time the night is out.” Bokuto said, smiling at you. You felt a pang of sadness creep on you, if he only knew.

The warm air of the ballroom felt nice against your cool body. You gave Bokuto his jacket back, you secretly wished you could keep it forever. You took in your surroundings, the ball room was filled with women in designer dresses and you could see the small stage in the middle of the room.

“Guys I have to find the event coordinator and see what time you guys need to get on stage. Please be on your best behavior, there are cameras everywhere. Atsumu keep the drinking to a minimum, Shoyo for the love of God go to the bathroom now, Omi keep these fools in line and you better be nice to people and last but never the least Bokuto, If you dance please be careful, I don’t want to take you to the ER again because you hit the Cha cha slide too hard. And with that I’m out. I’m counting on you guys.” You said giving them a thumbs up as you got lost into the sea of people to hunt the event coordinator.

“Thank you so much Y/N! Everyone is looking forward to the auction. We have some models and a couple pop stars who will be in the line up as well as a few volunteers . I want your boys to go at the end, as they say ‘always save the best for last’.” The coordinator spoke over the bustling crowd. She went over the rules and where they needed to go and what time to line up. You soaked in all the information the bubbly coordinator was giving you. “I have to go let the rest of the people know the game plan. Please have your guys here and lined up in half an hour. Thank you again!” And with that she disappeared into the crowd. Now here came the hard part.

You scanned the large ballroom to find your heathens. Sakusa would be the easiest to find because he is most likely on one of the four corners in the building. Hinata was most likely with Bokuto, and Atsumu was a wild card, he could be at the bar, maybe even on the dance floor trying to impress girls with his dance moves(That suck by the way). You recall the time you found him passed out in a bush drunk off ass at a gala last year. You make up a game plan, you would get Bo and Hinata first, then find a hopefully sober Tsumu and lastly get Sakusa (you figured it best not to drag him around the ballroom) You spot Bokuto’s tall figure next to a snack bar, and as you figured Hinata was with him. They were both stuffing their mouths with meat kebabs and other foods like wild animals, they sure love to eat you thought.

“Bokuto,Hinata, they are getting ready to line everyone up, wait for me over there.” You said pointing towards an area that was not too terribly crowded.

“HEY HEY HEY Y/N try one of these things, they are so freakin good.” He shoved a cake pop in front of your face. You took it from the gray haired boy.

“Thank you Bo, but we really need to go.” You took a bite from the cake pop. “Wow that is really good.” You said finishing it in one bite. You heard some snickers from a group of girls, they made a smug comment about you eating it all at once. You normally would throw hands but you had an image to uphold. You shouldn't let it bother you but it did.

“Hey don’t let that bother you, besides I like a girl that can eat.” Bokuto said, patting your head. He is literally the human version of sunshine.

“Thanks Bo. But really we need to get the move on, I still have to hunt Tsumu down. Can you and Hinata wait for me over there.” You said pointing to the area again.

“Roger that.” They said unison.

“I’ll be right back.” You said going back into the crowd. You checked the dancefloor first and he wasn't there(You were relieved he was not.). You made your way to the bar and found him surrounded by women who were mesmerized by his thick accent. You waved him down and he nodded and turned his attention back to the group he had attracted.

“It looks like It's time fer’ me to go, make sure you all bid for me. I’ll be a waitin’” He said getting up and following you. The women he had been entertaining giggled as he walked away.

“Look at you being a player. I didn’t expect that from a man who yells at girls when they cheer for him.” You leaned into him so he could hear you over the crowd.

“I’m just tryin’ to raise some money, it's strictly business. My heart belongs to volleyball for the most part.”He said winking at you. He truly is just a fool in love with the sport.

You led Atsumu to the group and went to retrieve poor Sakusa. You looked around for a few minutes and felt a tug at the back of your shirt. You turn around and see Sakusa towering over you.

“This is new, I’m used to finding you sulking in a corner.” You said staring into his black eyes.

“I watched you gather everyone up, I figured I would come on over to make it easier for you.” He began to walk towards the rest of the group.

“I guess being 6’4 has its perks huh Omi? You're like a watchtower.” You said looking up at the tall spiker.

“Yeah, guess so.”He said playing with one of his dark curls.

“Okay we have everyone, so you guys are going last, I’ll leave who goes first to you guys. Now let's go get lined up.” You lead them to the stage and let them line up. Atsumu insisted on going first, Hinata would go after him, then Sakusa and lastly Bokuto.

“You owe me some umeboshi after this.” Sakusa said, taking his mask off and putting it in the pocket of his tux.

“Sure thing. I'll even throw in a thing of nice smelling hand sanitizer for the trouble.” You crossed your arms and smirked at him.

“I’ll hold you to that.” He said, filing behind Hinata.

You looked at Bokuto who appeared to be a nervous wreck. He had a small layer of sweat on his forehead and his hands were shaking slightly. “Hey it's going to be okay, I’ll be right here.” You said pulling out your handkerchief and dabbing the sweat off his forehead. “You're amazing and dare I say you're the best looking one.” You said making him blush.

“Ummm HEY.” Atsumu said glaring at you, obviously butt hurt from your comment. Sakusa was unamused and took it upon himself to kick Atsumu. That gave you the opportunity to turn your attention back to the nervous male beside you. Before you could comfort him the loud speaker cut you off.

“Ladies and gentleman, would you please give your attention to the center stage, the date auction will begin momentarily.” The coordinator announced causing everyone to tense up a bit.

“Come on guys loosen up a bit, I’m going to be in the front taking pictures for our instagram page. So show off a little! Show them you are proud to be a part of such an awesome volleyball team!” You hyped them up one last team. “With that being said I want a group picture so bring it in guys.” You said pulling the camera and ushering the athletes into the frame. “Say cheese.” Atsumu wrapped his arm around Sakusa who didn’t have the chance to push him off, Bokuto gave Hinata bunny ears. It was a chaotic photo, but It caught their true essence.

“I want a picture with you before you go Y/N. Pleaseee.” Bokuto gave you puppy dogs eyes and you couldn't deny him.

“Sure Bo. Atsumu here.” You handed him the camera and got beside Bokuto. He wrapped an arm around your waist and held you close to him. You could feel his muscles through the tux that fit just a little too good.

“Aww you look like a cute couple.” Atsumu teased as he brought the camera up to snap a picture. You couldn't make a comeback as embarrassment washed over you. You looked up at Bokuto who had a blush adorning his handsome face.

“Y/N I’m going to do something, don’t get mad.” Bokuto said, picking you up bridal style before you could even protest.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Atsumu said, snapping more pictures.

“Bokuto put me down, I'm heavy!” You shriked gripping onto his tux.

“No you're not. I could carry you around all night like this if you wanted me to!” He smiled down at you! You felt your face light up like a Christmas tree. No matter how big or small you were, Bokuto always made you feel like a princess.

“As much as I’d love you to, we gotta get this ball rolling.” You said as he gently placed you back on your feet. “I’ll be taking that.” You said snatching the camera from Atsumu who was smirking. He seemed to be hiding something from the way he was acting. He is definitely sus you thought. You waved the boys goodbye and made you way to the front of the crowd. You got the camera ready as the spotlight of the stage flickered on.

“Thank you all for coming out tonight! We hope you are ready to see the heartthrobs we have lined up for you!!” The announcer said setting the tone. “Valentine's day is all about love and being with one another. So if your single, ladies, pull those yen out and let’s get to business!” The crowd cheered and applauded as the auction began.

You didn’t pay much attention to the men coming on stage, your only worry was the last 4. You scrolled through the camera to see the pictures Atsumu took of you and Bokuto. Bokuto had such a wide smile on his face in the pictures, your smile was just as big, even though your face was full of panic in the one where he effortlessly picked you up. You’re pulled from your day dream when you heard the announcer’s voice.

“We have some special guests tonight from the MSBY volleyball team! We’ll start first with Miya Atsumu!” The announcer said as Atsumu walked on the stage like he owned it. He flipped his hair and looked at the group of women he serenaded earlier and blew them a kiss. You got lucky and snapped a picture of it, he may be annoying as hell but he knows how to get women. He had about ten women fighting over him, his bids kept going up and up. After a cutthroat battle he was sold for roughly 200,000 yen. He smirked and walked off the stage. You couldn’t help but chuckled to yourself, he’d be one of a kind if he didn’t have a twin.

“Up next we have Hinata Shoyo!” She said as the tangerine headed boy shly walked on stage. He looked confident for the most part and he thankfully went to the bathroom before this. He had on one of his classic charming but cute smiles. You could hear girls behind you talk about how cute he was. His skin was glowing under the spotlight thanks to the Brazilian sun. His bids went up high, he ended up being sold for 120,000 yen. He waved at the audience and bounced off the stage.

“Let’s welcome our next bachelor who just so happens to be the tallest one tonight, Sakusa Kiyoomi!” You watched on edge as Sakusa walked out, he didn’t seem nervous but he wasn’t all that interested either, he stood in the middle of the stage like a statue. To make matters worse he wasn’t smiling. You grabbed his attention for a moment and smiled as wide as you could and pointed at your face, you felt like one of the psychotic moms from toddlers and tiaras but you had to do something or he wasn't going to get any bids. You mouthed the words “Smile please” at him and he finally took the hint. He had an awkward but cute smile on his face finally. You relaxed a little and resumed taking pictures. His bids began to go up and quick. Sakusa looked at the exit of the stage and smirked at someone and turned his attention back to the crowd. You could only guess he was looking at Atsumu who was probably pissed at how high Sakusa’s bids were. Sakusa was sold for a whopping 500,000 yen. You know Tsumu’s ego was damaged beyond repair right now. Sakusa bowed and left the stage.

“Now let’s end this night right! We have one more contest so let’s welcome Bokuto Koutarou to the stage!” You felt your heart drop and the announcer said his name. You had to watch someone you loved dearly be bid off to some rich girl who would probably steal him away. You tried to knock away negative thoughts but you couldn’t help it. He looked sinfully good when he walked on stage. What nervousness he felt was gone and now it’s nothing but his overwhelming confidence. He carefully watched one specific area of the crowd. You snapped pictures of him (a lot of them being for your personal collection) as he walked around the stage flexing and showing off. His eyes met yours a lot and he seemed to be smirking at you. But his attention always went back to the one area of the crowd. You heard his bids go up, one particular girl was bidding for him like her life depended on having him. Her voice came from the direction he kept starting at. He looked nervous when anyone but her called out a bid. You began to get ate up with pure jealousy, you wish you could take him off the stage and run away with him right then and there. The bids kept going up and up and the girl that kept bidding on him got him for 150,000 yen. He looked ecstatic. He looked at you and smiled before he went off stage. Your heart dropped and you wanted to leave, but you still have work to do.

“That concludes the auction tonight! If you won you can meet up with your bachelor over here on the left.” The announcer pointed towards the group of men. You made your way to find the guys so you can take more pictures and let them know where you’ll be when they get done.

“You guys did awesome!” You said running up to them. They gave you a soft smile. You notice Bokuto was MIA. “Umm guys, where is Bo?” They hesitated for a second but your conversation was cut short as the boys dates for the evening came up.

“Sakusa was it?” A well dressed man walked up to the tall volleyball player. You noticed a small girl clutching his dress shirt. She couldn’t be any older than 8. “This is my daughter, she wanted someone to dance with her but in all honesty I’m trying to make some business deals while I’m here, keep her company for me.” The man patted his shoulder and slipped some extra money in Sakusa’s shirt pocket, leaving him slacked jawed.

“All the umeboshi your heart desires, a big box of the nice face masks you like, and whatever else you want, just please be nice to this poor girl. She looks sad.” You whispered into Omi’s ear trying to persuade him a little more.

“I didn’t come here to babysit, but I guess I can.” He said low enough that the girl couldn’t hear. Omi peered down at the small girl, she actually had moles on her face kinda like he does but on the opposite side.

“Umm hi.” She said looking up at the tall man. She seemed nervous. You nugged Omi in the side to get him to say anything.

“When was the last time you washed your hands?” He asked the girl and you could have choked him. The girl giggled at his statement.

“I wash my hands all the time! Look my mom even bought me this!” She pulled out a small key chain with a rabbit on it, attached was a small bottle of hand sanitizer. “Would you like some?” She said opening the cap. Sakusa held his hand as the small girl poured some into his hands and she gave herself some as well.

“Good.” Sakusa said, pulling his mask from his pocket to put it back on. The little girl grabbed his hand and dragged him to the dance floor. You knew this was way out of his comfort zone, but he was still doing it.

“Omg your hair is so cute! Can I touch it?” You whipped your head around to see a young bubbly girl talking to Hinata.

“Umm s—s sure.” He said nervously as the girl ran and hand through his hair. You couldn’t help but laugh a little. The poor baby seemed so embarrassed. The dance floor was filled with couples and the girl dragged Hinata to the dance floor before he could even get her name. You turned to Atsumu who looked like he had seen a ghost.

“Young man I’m getting my money's worth tonight so let's go dance.” An old lady who you thought resemble Baba Yaga from spirited away stood in front of poor Atsumu.

“Yes ma’am.” He said, forcing a smile. He looked at you pleasing eyes that screamed “please save me Y/N”. You shook your head at him.

“Pay attention to me boy, I paid good money for you.” The old lady said whacking Atsumu with the cane she carried.

“Yes ma’am, sorry ma’am.” He said walking with the old woman to the dance floor. You had to turn your head and laugh, between Sakusa getting stuck babysitting a kid and Atsumu being stuck with a senior citizen after talking all that smack, it was priceless. You guess them ladies Atsumu talked to must not have liked him that much.

You searched around for Bokuto to make sure he got his date for the night, you were also curious who she was and how pretty she was. You felt that jealousy creep back on you. This was going to be a long night. You finally spot Bokuto talking to a drop dead beautiful girl, she looked familiar but you couldn’t quite place her. She and Bokuto seemed to be having a good time, she was laughing at something he had said. Your heart shattered. You look back up to see Bo making eye contact with you. All you could do was smile and get lost in the crowd before he could see the stray tear falling down your cheek. You needed to get outside for a bit, you felt like you were suffocating. You fought the crowd and finally made your way to the exit. You pushed the metal door open. The cold night felt good against your hot skin. You walked down a path in front of the building and tried to collect yourself.

“Another year alone and single.” You blurted out to yourself. You find a small bench and decide to sit down for a bit. The night sky brought a sort of comfort to you. The stars twinkled and the moon casted a peaceful light. The cold was getting to you but you were afraid to go back in. You mentally couldn’t handle it.

“PARKOUR.” You felt your soul leave your body as you saw a shadow jump over the bench you were sitting on. You flinched back ready to fight off the attacker only to be met with Bokuto standing in front.

“BO you scared me to death!” You said inhaling a deep breath and clutching your chest.

“I’m sorry my parkour was so awesome it scared you.” He said, taking his jacket off and draping it yet again around your cold body. Your nose flooded again with the scent of his cologne. It’s calmed you down in a bittersweet way. “But angel what are you doing out here, you’ll get sick if you're not careful.” He kneeled down a bit and pulled the jacket around your cold body more.

“I could ask you the same things Mr. Parkour, you have a beautiful woman in there waiting on you, so stop wasting your time on me.” You said trying to hold it together.

“Well I’m more concerned with the real beautiful one sitting right in front of me.” He said grabbing your shaking hands. Your eyes went wide with what he said.

“Bo I’m confused?” You said looking into his golden eyes.

“Well that woman you saw me with is not really my date, yes she did bid on me, but she was never my real date. She is actually the guy who owns our gym's daughter! She agreed to bid on me, but in return she wanted a date with Atsumu’s brother and he agreed to do it! The team helped me do this so I could be with you tonight, but I guess it didn’t go as smoothly as I planned. I’m sorry I made you sad.” Bokuto sat beside you on the bench,

“Bokuto are you low key confessing to me?” You looked over at him and he smiled and shook his head.

“Yes and let me do this properly.” He cleared his throat and held his hand out for you to grab, which you gladly accepted. “Y/N please let me be your date tonight and from here on out please!”

“So like boyfriend and girlfriend Bo?” You said wanting to make sure you got the message right.

“Yes Y/N, please be my girlfriend. All that flexin on the stage was for you baby!” He stood up and flexed again making you laugh. “But in all seriousness, I freakin love you. So what do you say Y/N?”

“Yes. I would love nothing mo-“ Bokuto cut you off by lifting your body into his strong arms. You giggled as he swung you both in circles. He slowed down and seen you finally smile again

“Now that’s a pretty sight, you're not going to be sad on my watch anymore. Now we better get back inside before we freeze to death!” Bokuto wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you two began to walk back. “Wait I have something for you!” He dug through his pockets and pulled out a small jewelry box and handed it to you. You opened it and there was a necklace with a small owl charm and a “B” charm next to it.

“Bo this is so cute! Can you help me put it on!” You said handing him the necklace. He struggled to get it on but finally got it. The silver was cold on your skin, but you didn’t mind at all.

“Omi actually helped me pick it out, believe it or not. He said if I would have went alone I would have got something stupid.” Bokuto said, sliding the jewelry box back into his coat pocket. You hate to admit it but Sakusa going was probably a good thing.

“Bo I really love it, thank you.” You said leaving up and kissing his cheek. “Now let’s go back, I’ve got to check in on everyone.” You walked into the ballroom with your arm hooked around Bokuto’s bicep.

You scanned the room to see if you could find any of the guys and the only one you could see was Hinata laughing with his date. They seemed to be hitting it off pretty good. “Bokuto let’s go get something to drink.” You both walked towards the bar, you see that girl who bid on Bokuto sitting next to Osamu. They both seemed to be having a good time.

“Thank you again! The planned worked Y/N is my girlfriend now!” Bokuto walked up to them and showed you off.

“I’m so glad!” The girl said, clasping her hands together. “You are a cute couple.”

“Speaking of a cute couple.” Osamu chimed in and pointed towards his brother Atsumu who was being dragged around by that old lady. “I may have given her some free Onigiri vouchers and a few hundred yen to bid on him.” The twin laughed at his brother's despair.

“Your evil, but I like it.” The girl said as they clinked their drinks together.

“You guys enjoy it, we still have to hunt for Omi.” You bowed and clung back on to Bokuto.

After circulating the ballroom a few times you finally find Sakusa and the little girl sitting at a table. Sakusa looked dead tired and the little girl was stuffing her face with cake

“Omi you look like a tired dad.” Bokuto said bursting out laughing at his teammate.

“I see your plan worked.” Sakusa said, looking at the necklace through tired eyes.

“Yes it did now this cutie is all mine.” Bokuto said peppering your cheek with kisses.

“How disgusting, when you grow up don’t date idiots like him.” Sakusa looked at the child who just nodded her head. It was hilarious to see Omi so out of his element. “That was directed at you Bokuto not Y/N.”

“Omi, he is a idiot but he is my idiot.” You patted Bokuto's back.

“Omi-Omi let’s go dance some more. I like this song.” The little girl tugged on his jacket.

“Fine.” Omi sighed and followed her dance floor.

“Now that we know everyone (for the most part) is okay let’s dance!” You said leading Bokuto to the dance floor.

You danced to every single song and Bo didn’t break anything when the cha cha slide came on. He swung you around all night without a care in the world.

“Let’s end the night with something nice and slow.” The Dj said putting on (Insert your favorite slow song)

“May I have this dance pretty girl?” Bokuto asked, holding his hand out to pull you closer to him.

“The Macarena may have wore me out, but I guess I have enough wind in me for one last song.” You teased wrapping your arms around his neck. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and began to slowly dance you around the room.

You see that little girl struggling to keep up with Omi’s big steps as he attempted to dance with her, he was at least trying you thought. Hinata was slow dancing with his date of the night, they both seemed comfortable and content with each other. Atsumu was still with that granny but he seemed to have accepted defeat as he danced around with her. Osamu danced with the gym owner's daughter and made it a mission to kick his brother when they got close enough, he even messed him up enough to cause the old to hit him with the cane again. You felt Bokuto's grip tighten and he dipped you down enough to finally kiss you on the lips. He pulled away and brought you back up to continue dancing.

“ I love you Y/N.” Bokuto spoke softly in your ear.

“I love you too.” You said as the song faded out.

“And one more thing Y/N” Bokuto said, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “I told you I would have the most beautiful girl here.”

Fin

#Bokuto X Reader #MSBY X Reader #Haikyuu Fluff #Bokuto Fluff #Bokuto Angst #Haikyuu Angst #kotaro bokuto x reader #Koutarou X Reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x female reader #bokuto x y/n

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lazypeachsoul · 4 years ago

Text

hvitserk ragnarsson's character alphabet.

Thanks for the request! The character alphabet was created by @imnotusedtobeingloved and you can find it HERE if you want to request more. Gif by @imdancingintherain07

Masterlist

You can be added to my taglist through THIS LINK or you can ask me through my inbox.

anon requested: "hey! may I request (a, f, l, r and v) for Hvitserk from the character alphabet??"

A - affection (how affectionate are they? what do they enjoy?)

Out of the sons of Ragnar, Hvitserk is the most affectionate of them. He does not shy away from showing his affections towards his lover. In fact, sometimes he needs to be stopped and reminded that they are in public.

But also, Hvitserk is not very good at differentiating kinds of affection. This boy cannot stop himself from flirting with every girl he crosses. Actually, he flirts with almost everybody, but it's not because he's thinking of cheating or he's not happy. It's because he just can't stop himself.

He's also the cheesy kind of affectionate person. He would gift his lover silly things like flowers.

Spring was in full bloom and it could be felt all around Kattegat, making everybody happier. Women enjoying the warmth of the sun, kids running around finally able to play outside and the prospect of raiding exciting the most adventurous.

Walking around town a small group of young girls tried to finish the chores their mothers had asked them to complete. But spring also brought around new beginnings...and the prospect of new love.

A commotion in the market brought them out of their conversation. Making its way between the groups of people and shouting apologies was a blond man. Of course the ruckus was his doing.

As soon as he spotted the group of girls his smile grew and his step became faster. The group turned to look at one of them, who was busying herself with a loose thread in her clothes to avoid being seen.

Hvitserk stopped promptly when he reached the girls and with a soft nod he acknowledged them, but his gaze was on the only one who wasn't looking at him. Clearing his throat he pushed a white and purplish flower in her direction.

"Good morning, my dearest." The girls around him tried to hold their laughter but failed. "I saw this flower and thought of you."

A chuckle was hard from one of the friends but was quickly disguised as a cough when several harsh glares were thrown her way.

"Thank you Hvitserk, it's a beautiful lady of the snows."

"It is...but now that it's in your hands it's lost all it's beauty compared to yours."

F - family (do they want to start a family?)

Hvitserk definitely would like a family, a big one too. The idea of his legacy passing down through generations fills him with excitement. He would get worried sometimes because his family wasn't the best. But the he remembers how much he cares for his brothers, even when they are at eachother's throats, and the worries would go away.

The idea of a family wasn't always in his mind though. When he was a child he dreamed of being a great warrior and conquering new lands. When he became a your man and started falling for girls, he never envisioned more than a fun time in the woods.

It wasn't until his thirst for battle dwindled a bit and he found a girl he actually wanted for more than just fun that the idea of a family started creeping up.

But even when it's decided to start a family he wouldn't care much about how long it took for pregnancy to happen. The gods know how much he enjoys the process.

L - love language (what's their love language?)

Physical touch is how Hvitserk expresses love. He sometimes might find it difficult to talk about his feelings and he finds that a touch can convey more than a thousand words.

Nobody is surprised by the touches that are shared by Hvitserk and his lover during feasts or even walking through Kattegat. He has a reputation of being a lover. But nobody knows how much those touches convey between the lovers.

Gift giving is also a big way for him to express his love. Especially when it comes to gifts from raiding. He uses them to tell his lover that they are always in his mind. It doesn't even have to be gold or jewels. It's usually something more personal.

He experiences the most love through words of affirmation. Either big praises when nobody cares about his part in a big fight or raid; or small affirmations about how good his hunt was or how he looked.

R - rivals (how do they handle jealousy?)

At first he would just laugh, because he had expected everybody to know who his lover is and not to mess with them. Who would want one of the Ragnarsson's against them?

When the other man ddoesn't relent in his flirting, and he can't see you trying to resist, his blood starts to boil. Probably because he feels threatened and Ivar's remarks about the situation are not helping.

He would either get too angry because he doesn't see any fight on his lover's part and try to get them jealous too by flirting with other girls. Which would just degenerate in a big fight that could be heard from every house in Kattegat.

Or he would get angry at the man and all hell would break loose. He would punch before asking, starting a fight that ended with Hvitserk sporting a black eye and busted knuckles. Ivar scoffing about how he didn't fight properly and his lover angry at him for the scene.

But he could easy convince her to stop being angry, that's why they call him charming.

V - vulnerable (how vulnerable do they allow themselves to get?)

Very vulnerable. At first he would be guarded because he's not used to let his feelings known, always shadowed by Ivar's big and uncontrollable emotions.

But when he feels comfortable he will let his guard down, just wanting to let everything he has been holding inside for so long go. And maybe start healing his emotional wounds.

#hvitserk x reader #hvitserk imagine #hvitserk ragnarsson #hvitserk ragnarsson x reader #hvitserk ragnarsson imagine #vikings x reader #vikings imagine #character alphabet #myfic

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anachronisticcrab · 4 years ago

Text

This has been on my mind for a while, but I’ve never actually addressed it, so here’s my honest opinion on the ‘feminism’ in PJO/HOO/TOA (I haven’t read Kane Chronicles in years, and I’ve never actually read MCGA, so I’m not addressing either of those)

The Hunters of Artemis

Fucking misandrists. It’s not feminism

Kicking people out for being wlw? Not feminist

Kicking girls out if they enjoy sex, or if they have sexual encounters? Not feminist, that’s slut shaming and it’s not okay

Preying on 8 to 16 year old girls, whose brains have not finished developing? Not fucking feminist

Treating men like they’re the scum of the Earth? Not feminist

I’m not saying that men are great. Personally, I’ve got a long and complicated history with men. But I don’t treat them like I’m better than them because I’m not a man—that’s misandry not gender equality, and not feminism

Lying and tricking young girls into hunting down mythical creatures for their entire lives (during which they will be children forever), without letting them in on the knowledge that they will be in constant danger and will never be able to see their families and friends again? Not feminist

They are the epitome of ‘not like other girl’ feminism, which is a recurring theme in Rick’s books

Plus they’re inherently ableist. The second you become a hunter, all physical imperfections disappear because they ‘make you weaker’? Plus, no way in hell would someone in a wheelchair, or someone with depression, or someone with sensory issues, or someone whose blind or deaf be allowed to join the hunters. It’s not feminist

The fact that I’m willing to bet that femme nonbinary and/or trans women won’t be allowed to join. After all, if wlw are kicked out for being wlw, why the fuck would Artemis let trans women or nonbinary ppl in? That’s not fucking feminist

Also, half the Hunters don’t think that satyrs are real guys cause they’re half goat? Like shut the fuck up, they ID as a man, they’re a man.

Artemis finds underage girls who are unhappy, tells them that they’ll have no responsibility, that they’ll be immortal, and that they’ll have fun all the time... and doesn’t tell them any of the bad parts until after they’ve pledged their eternal allegiance to her and her Hunt

The fact that she stops they’re education?? How is convincing young girls not to educate themselves feminism??

It also annoys the shit out of me that Artemis and her Hunters claim to support women, but send untrained, clueless, unsure girls who have only been a part of the hunt for two days on deadly quests where 2 ppl have been prophecized to die. Wouldn’t you want to send someone with more experience? Wouldn’t you want to actually support each other and send in someone with a higher chance of survival? And YEA, I’m talking about Bianca (not her biggest fan, but it was still fucking shitty)

In short, I freaking hate the Hunters, if you couldn’t tell. They aren’t feminist. They’re TERFs and misandrists. And Artemis is fucking creepy

The Amazon’s

Worse than the Hunters

In this case, I don’t know if they kick out wlw, trans women, or nb ppl (I don’t think so, but I’m not sure on that) so I’m gonna put that to the side for now

What I do know however is that they have actual slaves. Like motherfucking human slaves

They rape men, and force them into slavery. How the fuck is that okay? It’s not fucking feminism!

It’s not feminist to put someone in slavery; it’s fucking inhumane and terrifying! It’s a violation of about a hundred basic human rights!

It’s not fucking feminist to rape guys; it’s inhumane and in violation of basic human rights (again!)

They are not feminist; they’re misandrist slave owners

‘Not Like Other Girls’

Both Annabeth and Piper were portrayed as feminist icons during the series. Right? Right??

Fucking wrong. They both repeatedly put down other girls for exemplifying feminine qualities, basically saying that being feminine is weakness and it’s disgusting

How is that feminism?

Piper constantly shit talks her siblings because they’re super girly (for the most part)

She and Annabeth treat Drew like shit because she’s feminine and she goes after guys (and ok, Drew is a bit of an asshole, but there are better reasons to dislike her than she’s girly and likes guys!)

That’s not okay— feminism is about uplifting women, and supporting one another. Not about slut shaming and denoting ppl for exuding feminine qualities

Femininity does not equate to weakness. femininity does not mean you are less than. femininity does not mean you deserve less respect. femininity is not inferior to masculinity. Femininity does not mean you’re dumb, weak, silent, or cowardly. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. You are always worthy of respect (unless you’re a fascist or anything along those lines)

Thalia Grace

She gets her own category cause oh my gods I hate her so much

Not only does she support the Hunters and Artemis, she’s a dedicated defender of it

On top of that, there’s her Death to Barbie pin. What the fuck? Cause Barbie isn’t feminist?

Barbie is a doll that comes in all different shapes, sizes and colours, a doll that has hundreds of different careers, a doll that shows little girls that no matter what they look like, or where they come from, they can do or be anything (I know that it used to only be a skinny white blond girl, and maybe one other white girl, but that’s changed). How is Barbie not fucking feminist?

How is sporting a pin that threatens to destroy a doll that uplifts and promotes self love and positivity to little girls all over the world feminist? How is she feminist? She’s not-like-other-girls

She simultaneously supports an ableist, transphobic, homophobic goddess who preys on young girls, is actively against anything remotely feminine, and claims to be feminist, liberal, and punk, of all things! She’s not fucking feminist, she’s not fucking punk (I’m gonna make a whole other post trashing her, cause oh my fucking God she drives me crazy)

Basically what I’m trying to say in this is that the ‘feminism’ in the Camp Half-Blood Chronicles is fucking disgusting. It’s not feminism

If you don’t agree with any of this, or if you don’t like this, dni.

#pjo #hoo #og post #the hunters of artemis #anti hunters of Artemis #anti Thalia Grace #piper mclean #annabeth chase #anti Amazon’s #amazons pjo #feminism #toa #rr crit #rr criticism

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akampana · 3 years ago

Note

Maybe 10 with Bedivere? And it's your choice if you'd like to use Saber Artoria or Lancer Artoria! Or if you want to take this ask. Have fun!!!!

10. “I want to wake up next to you. Every morning.”

Bedivere X Arturia

THANK YOU FOR THE ASK! also hi :>

AU where the Battle of Camlann still happens, but even after Excalibur is returned to the lake, Arturia survives. Enjoy!

_________________

Arturia twirled her fingers through fine strands of champagne-colored hair, wondering how on earth she could be so lucky.

The rough quilt slipped from her bare shoulders as she rose from her knight's chest to stare at his peacefully sleeping face. Bedivere looked so serene, so innocent. If not for the large scars that littered both their bodies, she could believe they were nothing more than the people they presented themselves as, living out their lives without the burden of king and crown.

The shorter blonde leaned over her most loyal friend, brushing his long locks from his face with a touch as light as a feather. He was overdue for a trim, she believed, but between the final battle and the months he spent building their new life here in Wales, she supposed dressing their hair had slipped their minds.

Bedivere was her only company in the old manor, in which they were lord and lady. None of the commoners did suspect that the returning knight's "wife" was in fact, the reputable king who for a year, they mourned. For she was small and young with considerable beauty, and Arthur was a warrior who'd long gone to Avalon.

The people thought her Bedivere's reward for his long and truehearted service, and no more. It was a good disguise, and one that neither of them even had to lie for, so in return for their freedom, they let the people maintain that illusion.

"...My king?"

Arturia instinctively wrapped her arms around her chest though she knew her knight would avert his eyes. Red spread through their faces as their hearts beat like those of a hare, and soon the "couple" found themselves facing opposite walls of the bedroom.

"Forgive my rudeness for not sensing you wake...ahh...is...is it no good after all, my liege?" the man asked, ever concerned for her wellbeing.

Arturia shook her head, trying to suppress the shivers now that she was no longer attached to him. The night was especially cold and still yet too warm for the pelts, and the structure in which they lived did little to make autumn more comfortable.

So, the two knights found themselves sharing one fire, sharing one room, and sharing one bed. And Bedivere, whose blood ran warmer than hers, shared too, his body heat.

"'Tisn't that, Bedivere, quell your fears," she said shakily, already craving his warmth. If she were honest, it had long become a comfort. An awkward one, certainly, especially when Bedi was still getting used to her being female, but a comfort nonetheless.

"I just...I merely..."

A small part of her knew there was some wrong in the fact that they shared the same bed. They were not actually married, yet they lay with each other backs bare. Though Bedivere had never touched her without consent, there were times she'd wake wrapped in his solitary arm and find that she loved being hugged to his chest.

Or perhaps, that she loved the man that made her feel so safe.

It had been months since her dream. While she longed for that ginger boy still, the new life she was given courtesy of the Lady of the Lake quickly cemented that was all he could be for now.

The man that shyly invited her back on the covers, however, was real.

...

That Bedivere loved his lord was no secret. He would journey to the ends of the Earth if his king so wished it.

When the Lady of the Lake saw the magnitude of his loyalty, witnessed him on his knees, begging for one Arthur Pendragon's salvation, she took pity. In the end, it was not for Arthur's sake that she returned the Once and Future King to health, but for the sake of her very last knight. Avalon could wait, for she was its charge, and the Lady would still be there to ferry Arthur when the king's time came again.

Vivian's price for her deed was that he give her the life her kingship prevented her from having.

The one-armed man watched his king's shoulders rise and fall till her breaths evened out. He didn't dare move too much; else she wake once more.

Arturia turned in her sleep, curling up against his chest. Bedivere tried not to think about the warm breath tickling his sternum, or about any of the places where his skin met hers, but every night, it proved more difficult.

Everyone knew Bedivere loved his lord, but that he was in love with her? That was something new, and yet, something he'd suspected for quite some time.

The realization settled in gradually, like the changing of the seasons. Their newfound proximity made him realize that his admiration ran deeper than he initially believed. Everything just started to make sense; like why he'd always been so attached to her, why her trust mattered so much, why he couldn't even fathom a life without his king. He'd had all the puzzle pieces during his time as her knight, but only now was he able to put it together.

As he swept her bangs behind her ear, Bedivere wondered if what he was doing was enough. Was she satisfied with their day-to-day, their simple loaves of bread and meat? Did she miss the sweet puddings the palace cook used to make? Was it enough, the simpler garbs for the lords and ladies, or did she long for the finer silks from her time as king?

But most of all...was she happy?

This simpler life was the best he could offer. Periodic hunts for sport, riding through the land on the horses he owned, occasional visits to the town with the farmers that tilled his property. She may have been free from the weight of her crown, but her life was no less burdened. Bedivere would understand if she chose to spend her time with a richer man instead, but if he could have just one, selfish wish...

“I...I...want to wake up next to you. Every morning. I wish to be the home that you return to at nightfall,” the knight declared in whisper. " Forgive me for asking the impossible, my king. I know I cannot offer you a life of plenty, but..."

The knight shook his head, banishing the thought before it could go too far. Arturia remained his king, even when her kingdom was no more. He remained her knight though the Round Table was long broken. That he could even hold her so closely like this was a privilege. He needn't want for more.

Suddenly, he froze, feeling a small, gentle hand cup his cheek. Arturia shushed his apologies, pulling him close so that their foreheads touched. She needed him to hear the words she spoke next.

"You have given me a happy one."

#akampana asks #love confession prompts #bedituria #beditoria #bedivere #arturia pendragon #artoria #artoria pendragon #arturia #saber #lancer #fate #fgo #fate grand order #fate/stay night

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yeojaa · 4 years ago

Text

finders keep hers, ii.

read parts one and three! continued because i have zero self-control and i love/hate these idiots and like ... i just wanna give people what they want. ty to @hobi-gif for always beta reading and you (yes, you!) for normal reading. i lob you! xo

ps. picture these versions of jimin, tae, yoongi, and jungkook.

pairing. jjk x (named) f!reader. rating. still explicit, lolz. tags. smut! a lil bit of pining! jealousy! also, cameos from the other boys, dirty talk, fingering, unprotected sex (be safe luvs!), and a bunch of other semi-vanilla things. wc. 4.3k.

“Who’s that?” Jimin means the pretty blonde that’s attached to your best friend, snug against his hip like some kind of conjoined monster - a distant relative to the thing that’s rearing its own ugly green head from its slumber in your chest.

“I don’t know.” Lie.

Because Jungkook’s been talking your ear off about her for the past three weeks, regaling you with details you’d rather not know. Like how she does yoga at the crack of dawn and he picks her up from every class. She, apparently, looks incredible in spandex and loves her green smoothies. Or how she went to private school in Belgium and she’s got - in his words - the cutest accent. He’s mimicked it once or twice, demonstrating how her vowels don’t round like a local’s would.

You’ve heard too much about her and it’s driving you crazy.

The angel at your side - because that’s what Jimin is, with his feather grey hair and rounded Cupid’s bow - takes a sip of his drink, studying you curiously over the Baccarat rim. You can see the curiosity swimming in his eyes, painted across his features in broad strokes.

You return his stare without blinking, silently daring him to say something. He knows better - considering he’s been your shoulder to cry on more than one weak-kneed, booze-laden occasion.

“Do you want to go upstairs?” Meaning the rooftop, away from the crowd that dominates the 44th floor penthouse.

You shake your head - a little motion that wiggles your bangs free from behind your ears - and take a generous sip of the Veuve that bubbles about in your champagne flute. You’re not celebrating anything - this is just how Jungkook parties. With bottles and strangers and deep bass thrumming so loudly you can feel it chatter your teeth.

Another sip and your glass is empty. “No.” You seize another from the bar you’re both leaning against, wondering idly whether it’s your third or fourth or maybe even seventh glass. You’d lost count about thirty minutes ago when Jungkook had strolled in with her on his arm, clothes dishevelled and that stupid grin on his face.

Of course he’d been late to his own party and of course he was sporting a lipstick stain on the collar of his otherwise pristine white Oxford.

“You sure?” You know Jimin means well but you can’t stand the heat of his stare or how it feels like pity digging itself beneath your bones. You don’t need - nor want - his sympathy. Not now.

“Yes,” you snap more harshly than you mean to. A wounded animal lashing out, biting the hand that feeds it.

Luckily, Jimin knows you - has, for nearly the last decade - and he takes it in stride. Chin bounces, the smallest of smiles offered in penance for his pushiness. He doesn’t need to apologize and really, he shouldn’t, but he’s Park Jimin and he’s far too kind so he does it anyway.

“I’m going to hunt down some snacks. If you need me, just come find me.”

It feels infinitely worse when he presses a kiss to your temple and disappears into the throng of people, leaving you alone with the thoughts that buzz around in your head (or maybe that’s just from the liquor).

“Replaced, huh?” You’d recognize that voice anywhere. It rings in your ears when you’re trying to work, forcing its way into your skull when you’re twenty sheets deep in Excel fixing some junior’s mistake. You hear it more often than you like, both in the office and when you least expect it.

You barely turn to acknowledge the broodingly handsome brunet who has seemingly materialized out of thin air. You don’t need to turn to him to see how good he looks, all carefully tousled hair and that self-assured smile.

“What’re you talking about?” It’s easier to play dumb than to play directly into his hand. You’d learnt that ages ago. Kim Taehyung was a force to be reckoned with.

“Look.” A hand lands on your jaw, none-too-subtly guiding your stare in the direction you’d been so adamantly turned away from. Jungkook and his flavour of the week are locked in a fight to see who can eat each other’s face more thoroughly, tongues so far down the other’s throat that you feel your own gag reflex kick up. “Shouldn’t you be over there?”

Concern flares, streaking heat across your cheeks. How did he know? “What?”

There’s a twinkle in his eyes, mischief dancing in his irises as he studies you, fingers burning impossibly warmer over your skin. “You’re best friends, aren’t you? Why’re you standing here by yourself?”

You almost laugh, relief crashing over you with enough force to knock a breath from your lungs.

“Tae, leave her alone.” It’s your knight in shining armour - or finely woven Saint Laurent cashmere, in this case - a Manhattan in hand and a scowl on his face. You thank your lucky stars, not bothering to conceal the smirk you shoot at the reprimanded playboy.

“Yeah, Tae. Leave me alone.”

He doesn’t need to be told a third time, though he levels both you and your saviour with a narrowed stare. It stirs something uncomfortable in the pit of your stomach, like a snake uncoiling and preparing to strike. You think he might say something - you can see him playing through the scenarios in his head - but he thinks better of it at the last second, draining his beer and turning away without another word.

You watch Taehyung’s crown of inky hair disappear among the crowd. It’s only once his loudly patterned Burberry shirt is out of sight that you swivel your gaze to the man at your side. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” That distinct gummy smile fills his expression. It looks good on him - but then again, most things do. With his perfectly mused strands - currently a flattering shade of teddy bear brown and honey blonde - and observant feline features, Min Yoongi is handsome in a way that sneaks up on you, dressing himself in shadows and presenting it at the strangest times.

Like now, for instance, when you’re growing tired of watching your best friend act like a high school freshman.

“You okay, though?”

“Why - do I not look like it?”

You don’t miss the way his attention drags lazily over your features and then, almost pointedly, down the lissome column of your frame. How he pauses appreciatively where wine spills over cream, the mulberry silk of your wrap dress standing in stark contrast to the porcelain of your skin. It ties neatly at the smallest point of your waist - a gift begging to be torn apart.

Something crackles between you. You’re not sure where it is or where it starts but it fizzles, bright white and dangerous. A livewire you’re suddenly very eager to inspect.

“I’d say you look more than okay,” he returns dryly, in that low timbre of his.

You feign surprise, lashes fluttering like a schoolgirl. “Are you flirting with me, Yoongi?”

It’s a testament to his confidence - that lazy swagger that fits itself into the slope of his jaw, the soft shape of his mouth, the inescapable focus of his stare - when he advances a step. There’s already hardly any space between you but he eats it up like a starved predator, crowding you with ease.

“Do you want me to be?” The bitterness of whiskey fans across your face, creeping heat over your cheek and up the delicate shell of your ear. The scent of his cologne follows - distinctly masculine and reminiscent of the sea.

“Are you answering a question with a question?” You know it isn’t what he’s looking for but you offer it anyway, paired with a taunting smile and a coquettish turn of your head.

His jaw pulls almost imperceptibly; it’s only your close proximity that gives away the thrumming muscle. Something entices you to reach out - frustration or, more likely, the bottomless champagne - and you do, the pad of your thumb soothing over the tension. You don’t expect him to lean into your touch and you nearly retreat when he does.

The flat of his own hand rises, piano-honed fingers threading easily between yours. There’s a different kind of smile presenting itself now, reckless at the edges and dressed in an unspoken challenge. He presses it wordlessly into your palm, edge of enamel catching on the baby soft underside of your hand.

You feel the livewire now. It’s a flash of lightning, searing a billion volts through every limb.

It’s a surprise that you find your voice so easily, though it comes reedy and vaguely out of breath. “That’s a yes.” You’re mimicking the motion of his mouth, dragging your own lip through the cage of your teeth. He watches, unblinking.

Crystal rim replaces the warmth of your hand as he drains the amber liquid in a single motion, nearly slamming the glass down beside you. You’d turn to make sure it’s not in a million little pieces - but you’re far too distracted by the softness of his lips, how he tastes strongly herbaceous and smokey.

The first thought to your mind is that Min Yoongi kisses nothing like Jeon Jungkook.

The second, well - that’s stolen away, disappearing into a haze of desire when he sweeps the wet muscle of his tongue across your bottom lip. He does it once then repeats the motion with an addendum of enamel, turning his polite request into a gentle demand you’re all too willing to meet.

Broad, soft palms find the shape of you beneath your dress, one gliding easily over silk to rest comfortably across the swell of your hip while the other ascends in tandem, finding a home over the column of your throat. There’s no aggression in the way he moves and claims you. He trades force for grace, threading passion where his tongue swipes and his teeth mark.

It’s a slow burn rather than a raging inferno - scorched earth following a thunderstorm.

Yoongi’s touch is deliberate, each stroke of skin over skin meant to entice you. He does it well, with practiced ease - a sweep of his thumb over the hidden lace of your bra, the press of his fingers into the sensitive softness of your neck.

Even how he devours you whole is measured, calculated. He isn’t an overeager teenager looking for a quick fuck; he wants to indulge like a king at his last feast.

“You taste good,” he hums against your lips, bitten cherry red and glossy with his spit. “Look so pretty, too.”

Praise from Yoongi doesn’t come often so you bask in it, delirium and liquor painting your smile unabashed. It pulls low and slow, spilling like stars into the darkness of your eyes, the black of your pupils that devour the iris whole.

“You haven’t even tasted the sweetest part.”

It comes crashing out of your mouth like a freight train, dressed in champagne-fueled salaciousness and paired with fluttering lashes. A part of you wonders whether you’re being too forward but at this point, you can’t bring yourself to care. Between the alcohol and his touch, you’re drunk in more ways than one.

He doesn’t seem to mind, though. Not if his grin says anything, framed in danger and delight. It’s a heady mixture - an aphrodisiac in the form of a person’s smile. “Have to fix that then, don’t we?”

You’re ready to take him up on it - ready to do a lot of things, frankly - when a voice presents itself just beyond Yoongi’s shoulder.

“Fix what?”

Of course it’d be Jungkook.

You turn your attention to him first - you can feel Yoongi’s heavy-lidded stare trained on you when you pull away, when the warmth of your body retreats just enough that you can focus on something other than the overwhelming desire that sparks between the two of you.

Your best friend is standing not three feet away, arms folded over his chest in a way that reads like a surly nightclub bouncer or a begrudging boss. It’s nothing like the sunny radiance he normally wears - a byproduct of being rich and handsome and far too charming for his own good. You’re curious whether it’s the alcohol - you can see it still, swimming in his eyes and turning them hazy - or the fact that blondie isn’t at his side. Had she left him to fend for himself and now he was taking it out on you?

He repeats himself when neither you nor Yoongi answer, an edge to his voice you don’t expect.

“Nothing.” You, again, speak first. You don’t miss the way your answer sounds more like coddling, sweeping reassurance off your tongue.

Yoongi retreats a step, turning on his heel enough to position himself partially facing both you and Jungkook. At this angle, you study his profile, trying to find the ways emotion fits among his features. It’s a lost cause, though - he’s always had an incredible poker face.

“I was just saying her belt was a bit—” You catch the mischief that pulls the corner of his mouth high, revealing pink gums. “—loose.”

A sharp inhale follows immediately after. You don’t even realize it’s you until Jungkook is speaking, expression set and muscle pumping in his jaw. You’d think it was hot if it weren’t so goddamn uncomfortable. “Yeah?”

Sweet Yoongi is utterly unbothered, nonplussed as he adjusts the timepiece on his wrist. “Yeah.”

Watching the two interact is akin to sitting front-row at Wimbledon, your gaze bouncing between the two men like they’re whipping a fluorescent yellow ball between them. It’s so unbearable you have to remind yourself that they’ve been friends for years.

“I’m heading out,” Yoongi says, rather abruptly. He sounds almost bored, training his focus back on you for these last few moments. “Call me.”

You nod dumbly, watching his retreating back with an equally dumb look on your face.

“What the hell was that?” Jungkook’s taken up his hyung’s place, dangerously close and with a sour expression on his face. You almost want to make fun of him for it - how he looks like he’s just sucked on an underripe lemon. When he levels you with that look, though, you think better of it. Time and place and all that.

You don’t meet his eyes. “Was what?”

“That.”

The same edge presents itself again. It mixes with something you can’t place, colouring his words an alarming shade of red that has your brow furrowing and mouth following suit. You don’t appreciate the tone and you say as much, finally meeting his stare with defiance burning away the residual liquor in your system. “None of your business.”

Whatever he’d been expecting, this isn’t it. Brows shoot high, tongue rounding the interior of his cheek. You’d recognize that look anywhere. It’s the look that always gets him what he wants.

Which is why, once he’s abruptly kicked all of his guests out - to a chorus of boos and what the hells! - you’re on your back in the middle of his living room. Your dress - the poor, beautiful thing - lies in a heap somewhere in the kitchen, possibly caught across the back of one of his bar stools, and his clothes act like a trail of breadcrumbs leading from the front door. Shirt, pants, socks.

All he’s left in is black Calvin Klein boxer briefs. It complements your own La Perla bra well - all delicate lace and macrame.

“Say it again,” he demands from between your legs, knees hooked over his shoulders as he coaxes you to another orgasm. One shapely forearm rests across your hip, pressure heavy on your abdomen as you clench pathetically around his fingers. He’s tapping a near brutal rhythm against your g-spot, curling two fingers within you until you’re seeing stars and too fucked-out to remember what you’re supposed to be saying.

Jungkook has no sympathy, though.

He repeats himself with gravel in his throat, pad of his thumb ghosting over the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs. You tremble with each pass, seeking more friction; your back is arching with delirious need, hips rolling of their own accord. It’s almost inconsequential against the weight of him.

“Say it,” he barks - a petulant child demanding a toy.

“You’re better!” It’s more a broken shriek, a sob that wrenches forth and fits lamely with the words he so desires. It almost isn’t good enough but he thinks he’s dragged this on long enough. He hasn’t even had his fun yet and you’re already shaking with oversensitivity.

“Better than who?” The question comes in a warm breath that has you bucking toward the source - or trying to, at least. You’re so needy he can’t help but laugh - a far cry from your usual too-good-for-cuddling self - the sound muffled by the slick that coats your thighs and drips down your slit, making the sweetest mess.

“Than anyone.”

He tuts, withdraws his fingers from your obscenely wet walls, and studies the strands that connect them. Pink tongue glides over his index before he’s slotting both digits against his cheek, indulging in the taste of you. If he weren’t so focused on the conversation at hand, he’d be drinking directly from the source. “Not just anyone, baby.”

You look almost shy - or at least as shy as you can look with your throat and shoulders painted with bruises and bites, chest heaving.

“Than Yoongi.”

“Don’t you forget it, sweetheart,” he coos, so kindly you almost forget about the merciless edging he’s just done, bringing you to the precipice of bliss before ripping it away.

You seek him out - the kiss-swollen shape of his mouth, the unyielding contours of his back - like you need him, like your trembling touch might coerce him into giving you what you want. You kiss him as if you’re hoping to distract him, granting him a sexpot moan when you lose the hard fought war of tongue and teeth. He thinks you think he won’t notice when you begin rutting against him, desperately seeking relief against the hard curve of his cock.

The devilish side of him wants to call you out on it but it feels a little too good, your cunt soaking through the thin cotton of his briefs.

“Someone’s needy.” He bows above you, shoulders rounded to crowd you deeper into the couch cushions, and purrs the words directly into your ear, punctuating them with sharp, unrelenting glides of his teeth.

You snap with far less malice than you intend and far more desperation than you want. “Shut up.”

“Watch it.” This time, it’s punctuated by a sharp slap against your clit. You jolt beneath him, a long drawn out whine his reward. “Don’t you want me to let you come, baby?”

“Not if you’re going to be an asshole about it.” He’d probably believe you more if you weren’t breathless and still, perhaps subconsciously, grinding yourself up against him.

“I’m the asshole?” The way Jungkook says it makes you bristle. “You were the one making out with one of my friends.”

“I’m not your girlfriend!”

“So what? Doesn’t mean you’re allowed to do that.”

And that’s when it hits you like a ton of bricks. It crashes into your feeble rib cage, a fast ball meeting its mark with perfect precision. Your heart thumps pathetically before folding in on itself - a catcher’s mitt for his cruel words.

You don’t know what you’d expected. You know your relationship and all the things it isn’t.

(You still hadn’t asked where his latest playmate had disappeared off too - you’d been too busy with his head buried between your legs.)

So you try to ignore the tears that block your vision, how suddenly all you can taste is saltwater. The most you can do is squeeze your eyes shut, grinding your molars into a fine powder with the tension in your jaw. Now is not the time.

“Fuck you.”

He laughs, dismissive and amused. The Calvin Klein band now sits halfway down his thighs, his swollen head tapping experimentally on your equally swollen clit. He’s not even looking at you - far too interested in the way your essence coats his length.

“That’s what we’re doing, baby.”

Even when he speaks, he’s still staring down at the apex of your thighs, pressing the tip of his aching cock between your lips. You take him so well, your walls burning around the unrelenting, slow press of his hips. He’d fuck you every day if you’d let him. You’d actually tried it once, for a week, when your office had a round of layoffs and your stress was at an all-time high.

“God, you’re so fucking wet.” It’s praise he offers often, always far too pleased with the way you ruin your underwear. “Is this all for me?”

It’s hard to stay mad at him when he’s filling you up like this. Still, you try, holding hostage the sounds you know he likes to hear. You swallow them, biting down so hard on your bottom lip that it throbs.

He doesn’t like that very much - burying himself to the hilt in a single thrust to elicit some sort of response. “I asked you a question.”

You can’t deny him.

A moan bounces around in your mouth, forced out when he pulls out nearly all the way and snaps back in, balls smacking lewdly against your ass. He’s got your legs propped up over his shoulders, thighs spread wide as he watches your pussy stretch around his cock. You’re folded nearly in half and his palms span your hips - perfect for him to hold you in place and fuck into you at a relentless pace.

At this angle, his cock brushes the sensitive spot against your pelvic wall. It’d be too much on its own, but he knows this position well and grinds down against you every time he pistons in. The stimulation against your clit is otherworldly, bringing you right back to the edge like flipping a switch.

“What was that?”

“I-i-it’s all for you.” You’re stuttering either because he’s bouncing you on his dick so well or because you’re about to come. Maybe both. He likes that.

“That’s right.” He maintains a firm grip on your side with a single hand, the other reaching to palm roughly at your breast. You’re already straining against the delicate fabric of your bra - he hardly has to do anything but tweak and pinch your bud and you’re clawing at his own chest, manicured nails seeking to do the same to him.

You miss your mark once or twice - you’re having troubles keeping your attention focused on anything but the tension in your core - but when you do, you’re rewarded with a stutter of Jungkook’s hips.

“Do that again,” he pants, resuming his unrelenting pace.

You tweak his nipple sharply, soothing one then the other with a pass of your thumb. The sensation starts in his belly, an electroshock in his groin that has him growling, the sound reverberating out of his chest with great need. He shifts, reclining back on his muscular calves as he peers down at your blissed out face and pretty, messy cunt.

He’s desperate for release, your fluttering walls far too wet and warm around him. “You wanna come, sweetheart?” While he asks, he doesn’t need an answer - he’ll get you there anyway.

Subtly adjusting his position, he drags one of your legs to join the other, both now propped against his left shoulder. He keeps a commanding grip on your hip with that same hand; his right snakes between your legs, seeking out the pearl of pleasure that’s all of a sudden assaulted with far too much pressure (from his hand and your own clenching thighs and what feels like a million other things).

He can feel the tremors before they present themselves in your legs, the tightening in your pussy mimicking the way your hand fists over his heart. There’ll be angry red lines for days to come - a literal x marks the spot on his otherwise unblemished honey skin.

“Come on, baby,” he croons, encouraging as always as he thumbs your clit in gentle, repetitive motions and fucks into you so hard and deep you can hardly breathe.

Your face screws into an expression of euphoria, mouth rounding as the coil snaps and ecstasy surges through your veins. It’s like an explosion of colour - fireworks igniting you from the inside out - and you’re crying, the fourth orgasm of the night swallowing you whole. You’re squeezing him so tight it almost hurts.

It’s so utterly hot that he finds his own high effortlessly, your walls milking him for all he’s worth. He spills inside you - thank fucking god for IUDs - and fucks his cum deeper, riding out his release until he feels himself softening. He gently removes your legs from his shoulders, pressing a surprisingly chaste kiss to your ankle as he pulls out and settles beside you.

Even your little mewl of displeasure can’t deter him when he pushes two fingers past your swollen lips, gathering up the cum that’s spilling out and pushing it back in. At least he’s gentle, offering another kiss - this time to your hip bone.

“Stay the night?” He seldom asks. You always say no.

This time you don’t and he carries you to his bedroom, your face hidden against his neck. You’re left on his neatly made bed as he draws a bath - something he’s done a handful of times throughout the decade and a half friendship you’ve shared, knees pressed together and exhausted.

When he comes back and picks you up, you nearly miss what he says. It’s almost lost to the soothing scent of lavender and the sound of running water.

“Don’t do it again.”

You’re not sure what he means when he says that. You’re too afraid to ask so you say nothing. He doesn’t repeat himself either, instead leaving you on the edge of his tub with a fluffy white bathrobe and a kiss to your forehead.

Somehow, that’s even worse.

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