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inkyquince · 2 years ago

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Being friends with scummy Remy and scummy Wren would have been perfect opposites, especially when the town's true face was slowly revealed. Main thought right now (and definitely not because I'm busy with Shared By Three AU and lost in nasty) is how terrible this duo would have been for any reader, but specifically a male reader.

content warning. Pretty dubcon in general. Virgin male reader who no experience and Wremussy with a lot of experience. Forced bisexuality, verbal feminization, coercion. Cum play, slight scent kink, threesome. Nefarious intentions in general. Kissing practice, nipple play, lots of blowjobs, rimming and fingering. Flagrant Wremussy, cock hungry Remy and Smarmy Wren. previous generation.

Girl crazy (think Denji from Chainsaw Man) reader and that doesn't sit well with Remy or his little sidekick. Girls excite you but also make you nervous, so you never got past maybe holding a hand. You're more or less Remy and Wren's pet, and everyone sees it but you. You're blind to the power dynamics that took a hold of your trio, that Wren might be lower that Remy, but a loyal hand is better than being a glorified puppy. Little do you know that they would happily drag you around on a leash if they could.

Sure, they've experimented with each other, but you're what's missing. Their boy, who they managed to catch glimpses of in the changing rooms, when coming in from the rain and borrowing clothes from them at the estate.

First step is taken by Wren.

The two of you are drinking, bottles stolen from the main house, Remy's trapped in some insufferable upper class soiree and the blond has you to himself. The subject is steered onto kissing. You are so cute, dizzy and clinging to the bottle neck as you pout down at the liquid sloshing inside, matching your runny brain as you got drunker.

"'m gonna get made fun of." You complain, running the rim against your bottom lip, blind to Wren's heated gaze. "When it happens it gonna be so bad, I just know it."

"Practice with a friend, idiot." Wren grinned, bright and without malice. "It's how I got so good."

You blink at him, half betrayed that he already got his first kiss in, half interested.

"Don't have any girls to practice with." You gave a pathetic hiccup that went straight to Wren's cock, wondering if you'd make the same noise when cum drunk and needing another hot load in your ass.

"Who cares. I practiced with Remy." He shrugs, as if it was no big deal. As if it didn't go from stiff lips, to spitting in each other's mouths and wrestling trousers off of each other. It was almost instinct, Remy on his stomach, hips raised and Wren hungrily fingering his virgin hole.

You stare a bit, eyebrows raised before coughing softly.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"And it... Changed nothing between you two?"

It changed many things pup, Wren thought. But you don't need to know that, not until you're humping my thigh like he was when I finally got to suck on that pretty pink tongue.

"Fuck no." He lied.

There was a beat of silence and Wren took another swig of his drink, as if excitement wasn't knotting in his gut. Even if you said no, he could jerk off to the fantasy later.

"Okay." You finally breathed out and Wren immediately leaned down and yanked your chair leg closer, so your knees were touching.

You spilled your drink, the dark liquid soaking your thigh but your friend barely gave the garment a second glance, leaning into your space instead. One slender hand cupped your jaw, thumb dragging over your Adam's Apple. The way his soft brown eyes were trained on your bottom lip made you feel more dizzy than the beer had.

"Open your mouth a bit." Wren murmured, setting his bottle down and not caring enough when it tipped over.

You parted your lips and your friend sighed lowly before dragging his eyes over your face again. He leaned in.

His lips were softer than you expected. Everything that you had been told about kissing girls, meant that you thought of soft lips and curious tongues. It did mean that you somewhat believed that kissing guys would be... Hard mouths and distance.

Wren kisses like a girl, you thought hazily as his gentle lips slowly move against yours, leading the kiss expertly. It was... Nice. So nice. He would tilt your head for you to get a good angle, his hand warm against your skin, as his tongue slowly trailed over your bottom lip. You didn't realize you let out a low sigh as the closed kiss turned open mouthed, his tongue gently pressing against yours. A fuzzy thought trailed over your brain, sluggish and oozing, that you should be the one practicing to take charge, but there was something about Wren being the one to press into you, hungry and tasting with his hand on your thigh... That made everything else fade away. Even as thumbs dug into your hipbones, tugging you off your chair on onto his thigh, pressing you closer, you couldn't break properly from the spell he had put you under.

Even his chuckles that vibrated in his broad chest didn't wake you, his hungry hands dragging over the back of your thighs. It wasn't until you felt his own excitement, something thick and hot and digging into your skin, could you break out out of it. You slowly tried to pull away, the alarm bells in your head not even properly ringing, his hands making you grind your own dick against his thigh promising pleasure if you just stayed in this bubble with him.

The door flung open and Remy walked in, sighing something about stupid dress codes before freezing, eyes fixed to Wren's wandering hand, gripping your ass and his tongue pressed into your mouth. Seeing you friend made the illusion shatter and you quickly pulled away, stumbling upright and stammering something about needing to get home. Neither boy looked away from your cock pressing against the front of your trousers and you fled the cottage.

"... He any good at kissing?" Remy finally asked, his own gaze turned dark and hungry.

"I can train him good. Want a taste?" Wren snickered and let his tongue slip past his lips and Remy shrugged, taking your place on his lap.

Just the thought of your saliva lingering on his secret boyfriend's tongue had him harder than he could believe and unlike you, he encouraged Wren's hungry hands seeking out his bare skin.

You had stayed away in hopes the event would quickly be forgotten.

But as per, you couldn't stay away too long. Puppies trot back to their masters eagerly enough.

This time you hung out with Remy in his room and the conversation turned to sensitivity... Of nipples.

"No way." You said flatly.

"Yes, they are." Remy sighed, rolling his eyes. "Just as sensitive as girl nipples, I promise."

"... I don't think mine are."

"What played with your own tits too much?"

"Shut up." You threw a pillow at him and he caught it easily, snorting. "I just... I don't really touch them. I didn't think guy nipples would be as sensitive."

"Guys are just as tender as girls. In every way, really."

You lay back in Remy's stupidly big bed, mulling over the information. His eyes flicked to the loose shirt you were wearing, arm holes cut pretty large, large enough to tease a sneak peek of the entire reason he started this conversation. He smiled to himself, his plan going perfectly already.

"Next thing that comes out of your mouth is going to be that you're also not as ticklish as a girl."

You perked up, almost indignant. Gotcha.

"I'm not!"

... Yeah, you should have thought this through. Trapped underneath Remy who wanted to prove his point, knees hooked over your shoulders so you couldn't squirm away, weakly trashing as tears rolled down your cheeks. Your stomach hurt, with your friend's quick fingers tickling your sides, chuckling softly himself.

"Sensitive, aren't you?" He mused and you wheezed out a faint fuck off.

Slowly drawing his patterns over your skin led his fingertips to drag over your chest, pausing by your nipples. With a hum, he tugged up your shirt, despite your weak objections that you got it, you were sensitive, until the fabric rested on your collar bone. Still trapped, you take a breath in the sudden break, but froze up when he brushed the pads of his thumb over your nipples.

You wriggled in objection but Remy tightened his legs around you.

"I'm making my point." He murmured, slowly teasing the tender skin. "... You've got such pretty tits. Almost like a girl's.

"S-Shut up!" You stammered out, despite the fact you... You wouldn't know exactly what he meant by that.

"I'm not lying. I know guys who'd suck on these instead. So perky." Remy's voice was low, as he teased your nipples into stiff peaks. "You sure you wanna fumble with some girl's bra? You should just grope your own. Really wasting such a pretty pair of tits by not showing them off."

You felt your cock stir as he whispered to you, not letting up on his cruel ministrations. It was as if he was milking one of his cows, the way he cupped and squeezed your nipples. Remy even leaned forward, hot breath rushing over your skin. You froze up but stopped squirming as his lips were barely inches from touching you. He exhaled again and promptly spat on one of them, rubbing his saliva into you.

"You thought I was gonna suck on them, didn't you?"

"Shut... It." Your voice came out in a whimper, instead of a demand.

"Tell you what. I can get you a date with that girl from your English class you like mooning over..."

You, foolish puppy, perked up at the mention.

"But only," Remy continued, his cock growing hard against your back. "You come with me to the park after it gets dark."

Your stomach sunk like a stone.

"... For what?" You nearly cut yourself off with a sigh as he gave a particularly hard pinch.

"I want to watch you let those gross older guys fondle your nips, of course. Twenty of those guys, and you get your date. Or let ten guys use your tits to get off and you'll be knee deep in pussy, I promise."

"... Get off?"

"Guys can give tit jobs, idiot." Remy sighed, slowly grinding his aching erection against you and you stiffened up. "Let them rut their dicks against your chest, run their cockheads over your nips, cum all over you, and you get your fucking date."

You didn't agree and the girl in your English class barely gave you a glance. Doesn't mean that Wren and Remy's actions didn't escalate real fast.

Wren finally got his fist around your cock, when teasing you that bros get off together all the time. You were bullied into it, his grip on your wrist not ceasing as he pressed it to his own erection, but his... His own slow massage of your crotch was so tantalizing that you whispered out a shaky okay to his whispers. Wren picked the porn and let your laptop play it at full volume despite your increased embarrassment. You couldn't look at him, just stared at the screen as you both massaged each other's cocks, sitting side by side on the couch as the scene progressed.

He chose a surprise threesome fuck. The porn star's husband would come home, and make her affair partner eat her out as he fucked his perky ass, before getting him so cock drunk that he started moaning like a whore for cock, more cock, please, please. Somehow you tensed up more when it happened.

"Want me to finger you like that, pretty boy?" Wren murmured against your ear, his own cock leaking heavily in your hand. "Looks good, doesn't it?"

Your first hand job went to your friend, his grip tight around your erection and his other hand down your trousers, past your balls, circling his middle finger around your virgin rim. Never got to push them in, too distracted by licking up the cum on his palm. You tasted semen for the first time as he tucked your own fingers into your mouth.

Blowjob nearly went to Remy's farmhands, who led you to the barn, teasing glint in her eye. Until the man in question flagged you down, shoved you against the wall, and sunk to his knees as she retreated, worried about being fired. You weakly tried to push him off, but... Even as his tongue just licked up your balls, along your shaft before popping the head in his hungry mouth, it felt too good to deny. It felt as if his lips were fucking you, more than you were fucking him. Gloved hands pressing against your hips, forcing himself deeper on your dick, throat bobbing hungrily with every swallow. You were lost in the reverie, right up until you felt a tight grip on your balls, making you squeak and your eyes shoot open.

Remy glared up at you, tongue still dragging helplessly against your shaft. As if he physically couldn't stop himself.

"Let anyone taste your cock and I'll ruin you." He hissed out, grip on your balls tightening momentarily.

"Remy!" You struggled not to squeak.

"Say it." The farmer refused to let up. "Say it. I'll fuck you up, and I don't just mean your life. I'll ruin your body, make you regret even thinking you belonged anywhere else than under my fucking boot."

"N-No one will t-taste my cock! Please!" You whispered, somewhat delirious and not knowing if it was from his tight grip or from the lack of attention to your cock, having been so warm and snug in Remy's throat a few seconds before.

He conceded and half your cum escaped down his throat, with the other half being purposely being smeared across his face. Remy did suck on your balls as a strange apology and your next load was licked by the same tongue, off your tummy.

You know that you weren't going to loose your virginity to a girl. Not when Wren and Remy refused to back down. Your first blowjob went to the up and coming smuggler. Rim jobs was something you didn't think about often, but your first time experiencing one went to the farmer, who was preparing you for his partner, on the bed he first pinned you down to play with your nipples.

Cum coated your tongue but you weren't allowed to pull off the rapidly hardening cock, not with the fingers cupping the back of your head.

"You've got the mouth of a gloryhole whore." Wren sighed happily.

You could just whine, as Remy's tongue pressed further into you, the hand that wasn't tucking more desperate fingers into his own hole, busy with milking your cock. You knew your virginity will go to him. You already knew he was going to sink down on you and ride you until your balls were empty and aching and sore.

That wasn't what you were worried out.

Because the one virginity you never really wanted to lose, was going to Wren. Wren, your friend you've had since forever, and his throbbing cock, already perked up against your lips.

You sighed, drunk off the thick cum warming your stomach, and fought back a loud whine as Remy's tongue slipped out of your puffy, swollen rim, hungry to taste your cock again.

"Don't worry. You'll be fucked stupid in a bit." He murmured, distracted by dragging his lips over your shaft, tasting you with his tongue.

Lost in the sensation of wet heat against your erection, you didn't even realize you began to press kisses to Wren's own cock, slowly dragging your own tongue against his shaft, tasting the hot, musky skin. You even closed your eyes, savoring it slowly, lazily dragging your lips over him.

As your mouth reached his leaking head, you didn't even need the weight of his hand against your head, you took it into your mouth immediately. Flicking your tongue over the slit, almost mimicking Remy's own actions with your cock. Your legs relaxed and his fingers slid back in easily, aiding by the mixture of lube and saliva that loosened you up. You didn't know when giving head became easier, especially when Wren first huskily whispered that you'd love the taste, that helping him out wasn't really gay. It was rough against the back of your throat but now it was almost... Seamless. As if you were so hungry for it, you refused to give in to your gag reflex.

"Y'know, it stops being straight when you start savoring the taste." Wren snickered above you, running his fingers along your throat as you bobbed on his cock.

You froze up slightly, but the sensations against your cock and swollen hole eased you back to relaxation, though not compliance. You could feel Remy's own tongue slowly drag over your slit, opening your eyes to glance down and see him massaging his cock as he indulged in your own taste. His other hand bobbed underneath him, pressing more fingers into his own hole. Pulling off Wren's cock slowly, the mixture of cum and saliva bridged your bottom lip to the tip of his oozing slit. Flushed, you parted your lips.

"I... I don't..."

"Yeah, yeah baby. You don't like boys. Now focus on my balls, I love how you lick them, puppy"

#inspired by the amount of denji and yoshida ship art ive been getting on me feed #wremussy #wren the smuggler #remy the farmer #quincewrites #dol #degrees of lewdity #nsft #woo #we wrote something lads #woo!!!

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spriingday · 2 years ago

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open to: m/nb plot: “you used to be dorky and lame in high school but now you’re hot and i kinda wanna rip your clothes off but oops i used to make your life a living hell??” au

“ come on, this is a joke, right? i mean, look at you. you are definitely not that guy, that nerdy lose— ” uncharacteristically flustered by the other male’s admission, the lawyer finds himself struggling to bounce back from his painful mistake. vesper still remembers him well, that one kid his friends and him used to bully mercilessly back in high school. never expected to run into him again at an elite soiree, certainly not looking like he just stepped out of a magazine. great, so much for his plans of getting railed by the hottest guy at the party. “ but hey, i mean, if it really is you,” he still tries, forcing a little smirk on his lips. “ i guess an apology would be in order, right? honestly, i’d love to make it up to you.”

#open starter #indie rp #indie smut rp #indie gay rp #꒰ ♡ ꒱ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 ╱ vesper chae ◞

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chuckaf · 4 years ago

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Chuck Fic Rec List: Updated

So my fic rec post was in my notifs again the other day, and I noticed a while back that the formatting on the post has gotten all messed up and it’s also had like three reblog additions to it anyway meaning there are three versions out there lol. so, I wanted to do another list of chuck fic recs! I’ll keep the other one up still, so I’m not gonna repeat every fic here, just some I really recommend. I’m also adding the fic summaries, which I didn’t on the old post, and some more of my own opinions so, buckle up for a long post!

Chuck Versus the Steampunk Chronicles | Steampunk.Chuckster

1896. A world powered by steam, where humans and machines coexist, and airships are the fashionable mode of transport. The US Empire's deepest and darkest secrets arrive at Chuck Bartowski's doorstep. Have they fallen into the wrong hands? Or will the inventor prove his mettle, even while he's forced to hide from the very people he's protecting? AU, ongoing chronicle, Charah.

A genuinely incredible AU story, with an entire crafted world and universe, so detailed it frequently blows my mind. There is heart and family and infuriatingly brilliant slow-burn, plus a buttload of danger and super fun historical/steampunk action. Oh how I LOVE it.

Chuck vs the Charade | somedeepmystery

When computer nerd Chuck Bartowski returns home to an empty apartment and a dead girlfriend he finds himself embroiled in a deadly game of espionage and deceit. Everyone around him is playing a part to get what they want and when he starts falling for the new woman in his life, he can't help but wonder if he can trust her or if she's the one he should fear the most.

An action and twist-filled AU based on the movie Charade, which is just such a brilliant fic concept I absolutely adored it from the start.

Two Sides of the Same Coin | dettiot

When you're a spy, there's all kinds of occupational hazards when you work with another spy. For Sarah Walker, though, one mission becomes a life-changing experience. Because working with Charles Carmichael leads to protecting Chuck Bartowski.

The first time I read this fic my mind was just blown to its genius. Such a brilliant interpretation of what the Intersect and its concepts set up in the show could be, and ooooof the Chuck/Sarah interactions, my HEART. Related to it, its companion piece:

A Flip of the Coin | dettiot

What made Charles Carmichael agree to become Chuck Bartowski? Well, to start, it wasn't as much of a change as you'd think. A companion to the early chapters of Two Sides of the Same Coin from Carmichael's perspective.

Chuck vs The Butterfly Effect | n7agentbartowski

Chuck Bartowski is a normal guy who just hit rock bottom. No girlfriend, no career and no super computer stuck inside his head. It isn't until Chuck meets a gorgeous stranger on the beach that he begins to think his life is about to change for the better. An AU Chuck fic without the Intersect. "Change one thing and it changes everything."

I said it on the OG post, but this story has one of my top 5 Chuck/Sarah fic meetings. So funny, so... very Chuck. The story is a little angsty overall, but a great read.

Chuck vs the Rogue Spy | Crumby

When a rogue spy from Chuck Bartowski's past shows up to help him during his first solo mission, Chuck hopes that he'll finally find out what happened to Sarah Walker. Post-S2 AU.

There’s a lot of Season 3 fix-it fics out there, which I don’t usually read bc I actually love season 3 lol, but this one’s a good one! A twisty deviation from canon, but still feels really true to character.

Chuck Versus the Nerds Rewrite | Steampunk.Chuckster and David Carner

What happens when two nerds talk endless hours about their favorite TV show? A new take on the show you know, but with the flair, twists, and turns you've come to expect from Steampunk . Chuckster and david . carner. Somewhat canon. Charah.

As the summary says, a different take on the show, which honestly makes a couple changes I would too, but also adds a bunch of fun twists and plots that make it totally new and fresh. Seeing Chuck and Sarah’s thoughts in the more canon sections is just delicious, too.

The Trapped Assassin | SarahsSupplyCloset

After a mission goes awry, the CIA's most lethal assassin is ordered to take vacation while her superiors figure out what to do with her. But when she meets a disarming tourist, their immediate connection only adds to her disillusionment with the agency and her career. Will he be enough for her to finally take the plunge and leave the only life she's ever known? Charah AU

A warning for the very justified M rating if you don’t like that sort of thing, but this is definitely a plot-heavy fic, too. A really neat Sarah-heavy AU, with a whole lotta Chuck/Sarah fancy French vacationy goodness.

Chuck vs the Second Chance | malamoo

AU from mid-season 2 and onwards. Chuck and Sarah part ways only to be reunited years later. COMPLETE.

Literal, crying-at-my-screen angst. Not even a super happy ending. But a brilliantly written, part-reflective/flashback fic, exploring what would’ve happened if Chuck and Sarah’s relationship really was an assignment all along-- and the aftermath. It’s heartbreaking. But if you want a little heartbreak, this is your fic.

Ready at Your Hand | dettiot

In the reign of Queen Elizabeth I, a Catholic plot against the queen comes to the attention of spymaster Sir Francis Walsingham. To protect Elizabeth, he develops an unusual plan: hide the passing of intelligence between two agents by a false romance. When Lady Sarah Walker and Chuck Carmichael meet, though, their pretend flirtation becomes much more.

I love Chuck fic for the very reason that it’s inspired such adventurous and totally unique AUs. Here’s some Elizabethan fake-dating Chuck and Sarah! They have to be so Proper, it’s like that hand moment from Pride and Prejudice but Elizabethan and times a billion. The pining!!

Sarah Versus Getting Married | Steampunk.Chuckster

Sarah Walker is getting married. Canon. Charah.

I’d recommend all of SC’s fics if I had the room, and I’m already recommending a ton sksks but most of my fic recs are AUs, and this one isn’t! It’s canon, and covers some of in the gap in 4x24, with Sarah just before the wedding itself. Super sweet, heart-tugging, brilliant.

A Chuckmas Carol | Mikki13

A new twist to Dickens' beloved "A Christmas Carol". When Sarah begins to shut out the world around her, three spirits come to show her the error of her ways. Season 3 AU.

Another Season 3 AU, this one written pre-series so it definitely doesn’t fit to canon, but it’s still wonderfully rich in character depth and angst and it also made me cry. Plus, festive!

Chuck Versus Thin Ice | Steampunk.Chuckster

On the doorstep of the Olympics, top American curler Sarah Walker has lost her mixed doubles partner and her boyfriend in one fell swoop. Her coaches throw newbie Team U.S.A. curler Chuck Bartowski onto her team and thrust them into the Olympics, hanging America's curling hopes on two people who only have a short amount of time to learn to trust one another. Charah AU.

Do you like curling? Or the Winter Olympics? It doesn’t really matter because somehow this fic made me extremely invested in both of those things, as well as Chuck and Sarah and them being INSUFFERABLE. Catch me now knowing a ton about curling thanks to this fic.

Walker’s Eleven | Moonlight Pilot

Not the same plot as the movie. Sarah Walker never got out of the con game or became a spy, and now she's on her final con. What happens when true love and betrayal get added to the mix? Twists, turns, and Jeffster!

Con!Sarah always interests me, and this fic is full of her. Lotta con plot, lotta Chuck and Sarah.

The Detective and the Tech Guy | thecharleses

Sarah Walker is a Pinkerton detective. Chuck Bartowski is an electronics genius. They wouldn't have met except for a case of mistaken identity and murder. Will the detective and the tech guy solve the mystery, distracted by the riddle in their own hearts? An homage to The Thin Man film series. Formerly co-written by Steampunk . Chuckster and dettiot, now ONLY Steampunk . Chuckster.

Everyone in this fic is so damn cool. There are so many martinis. But also great heart and family and like, standing up for who you love, and later also Chuck with Baby Clara content which frankly the show robbed us of. Also, PI!Sarah!!!

Gravity | Poetic4U

AU. Sarah makes a decision that altered her life forever.

This is just a one-shot, which many of these stories are not, so a good one if you don’t fancy a big read! Just because it’s short, though, doesn’t mean it’s lacking; a really awesome what-if AU, and heavy on the Chuck and Sarah.

A Yuletie Tale | Steampunk.Chuckster

Sarah Walker was dumped the day before Christmas Eve, and her Plus One at her work’s annual Christmas Eve Soiree is now officially a Plus Zero. Her best friend Ellie Bartowski has a solution to her problem, and Sarah finds she isn’t quite as sure about it as Ellie is. AU Christmas Charah.

I’m particularly in love with this fic because, instead of beginning with a meet-cute, it involves Chuck and Sarah already two years into a friendship-- Sarah is Ellie’s best friend. And she’s been crushing harrrd on Ellie’s brother. Also Chuck is in a tux. It’s pretty.

Set, Spike, Dive! | Frea O’Scanlin

Chuck never expected to even make it to the Olympics. Everything is working against him: he's too tall for a diver, too inexperienced for a medal, too much of a wildcard to really make his mark. But an unexpected meeting at the airport, some intriguing new friends, and a whirlwind romance on the sand just might set up London 2012 as the time of Chuck Bartowski's life.

A London 2012 AU, because why not. This is just a fun Olympic-y ride!

OTP (One True Pairing) Prompts | David Carner

A series of Prompts I found online about different times and places in Chuck and Sarah's life. Mostly AU, mostly one-shots. I assume mostly fluff, but I might get deep. I doubt it, it's me. Charah...ALWAYS (It says complete, but if an idea strikes me...)

If you’re not so into long stories, this fic is perfect. Individual set-ups and stories, all Chuck and Sarah, and all super cute. You could dip in and out and just pick a scenario you enjoy.

Chuck vs The Frontier | ninjaVanish

AU: Chuck was enjoying a simple life as a 19th century watchmaker until an encounter with a beautiful Secret Service agent thrust him into a world of intrigue and adventure he never wanted. But then, with Agent Walker around, it can't be all bad, can it?

This fic gets props for being historically-set but still including the Intersect. Again, a historical AU, so the pining!! the need to be Proper!!! But besides all that, there’s a lot of action fun as well.

Chuck Versus The Crosswalk: Remastered | WvonB

Will a last minute mission help our two favorite characters finally get together? This is the remastered version of my first story.

The original version of this fic is on my first list; this is the updated version! It’s not a complete AU, instead a story that diverges from canon, so if you’re more into canon characters and setting than a new AU scenario, this is a great fic for that.

Little Girls, Paper Wreaths, and Choc Chip Cookies | DanaPAH

Very AU: Sarah Walker is a single mother whose Christmas spirit needs a boost after a tough divorce. She isn't quite ready to go looking for romance, but her little daughter's affection for their new neighbor may lure it right to her doorstep, anyway.

An incredibly sweet AU one-shot where Chuck and Sarah are new neighbours, and Sarah has a super cute little girl. So much sweetness and love and hope. I love this fic so much it literally led me to write my own neighbour-kid-AU, so, not to toot my own horn but I’ll link it here anyway.

May Your Walls Know Joy | halfachance

Looking for a fresh start after some tough times, Sarah and her three-year-old daughter move to LA. When they meet a sweet curly-haired nerd who lives next door, though, Sarah realizes they might just find more happiness than they'd ever imagined, if only her past doesn't catch up to her first. AU.

It’s what the summary says; if you wanna read, feel free!

Chuck vs the Sound of Music | quistie64

AU. Chuck, nerd extraordinaire, is a man with seven children and Sarah must protect them all from Fulcrum's evil designs. Warning: there will be singing.

I mean. Not much mystery as to the concept with that title and summary lol, but this is a super fun, soft ride with a lotta sweetness, and yes, singing.

Just Two People | David Carner

Meet Sarah Walker PhD, Psychologist, specializing in personality traits. Meet Chuck Bartowski, man who has left THE electronic company of 2020. When Burton Consultants tries to figure out what is wrong with the morale of Orion Industries, what happens when a guy named Chuck meets a woman named Sarah. I'll give you a hint, it's me writing.

David’s done something pretty special with this fic. It’s Chuck and Sarah centric, but very much an ensemble piece, too, with a lot of Team Bartowski and other familiar faces throughout.

Chuck Versus the Con Game | Steampunk.Chuckster

AU. Chuck and Sarah are partners in the con game. It's an existence wrought with danger and violence. Every day could be their last. Every mission could be the end of the line.

This is where I freak out SC and declare this fic the reason I ever got hooked on Chuck fic and then wrote Chuck fic, and the reason I still love it today but. that is true lol. Just so. so good. It’s also written with the chapters out of chronological order, which is super fun from a reading perspective. But con!Sarah AND con!Chuck?? Best. The kind of fic you will be thinking about for days (if not, y’know, years).

As you can tell by the repeats, I highly recommend just about anything by Steampunk.Chuckster, dettiot, or David Carner, but there are a TON of amazing Chuck fics and authors out there. I’ve never known a writing community so wildly creative-- there are so many unique AUs and canon explorations and story concepts that this show has manifested, and it’s all so much fun.

Most of the Chuck fic community is still over on FFN rather than AO3, so if any of these whet your appetite, feel free to have a browse there for more stories. I’m sure you’ll find something great. Personally, all the incredible writing there has also led me to write a buttload; I’m at halfachance on FFN, so if you see any of my stuff or wanna chat fic, feel free to message me there or here.

Happy reading, folks!

#chuck #fic rec #chuck fic #nbcchuck #praying if i edit this to add to it or i reblog it to add to it all the links stay and the line breaks don't disappear sksks #the old one still looks okay on desktop but it's messed up on the app and on mobile and it's just all generally messy #so i've been wanting to make this for aaages lol yay to finally doing something! woo!

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hxlyhead-harpies · 4 years ago

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Cowboy Like Me

evermore

Pairing: Sirius Black x Remus Lupin

Summary: Muggle! AU. Remus Lupin is a con man who is determined to get what he wants. That is, until he meets Sirius Black. Inspired by Cowboy Like Me by Taylor Swift

You're a bandit like me Eyes full of stars Hustling for the good life Never thought I'd meet you here It could be love

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol

Remus stood at the edge of the ballroom, watching the rich men and women dance around the room as he sipped from his glass of wine. He was at some high society ball that he hadn’t been invited to, searching for his next meal ticket. Remus crashed these events often, knowing that with a pretty enough smile he could get in anywhere. He’d meet the gaze of various important men from across the room, enticing them with his golden eyes. Each long, fixed stare conveyed a message, as if a secret code was embedded in Remus’s honey irises. They would find their way to him sometime later that night, in a secluded hallway or closet. There were many elites with secrets in unhappy marriages, a fact that Remus could easily use to his advantage. He learned early on that men who came from old money loved nothing more than to spend it, showering him in gifts he could sell and cash he could spend.

So there he sat at the end of the bar, eyes scanning the room for someone donning that specific air of loneliness. He tugged at his tie and observed.

The ballroom was grand edging on gaudy, high vaulted ceilings seemingly coated in gold. The party was held in the ballroom of a rich benefactor who had nothing better to do than to throw money at shallow causes and to throw gauche parties. The air was thick with fake niceties and the lofty laughter of old rich women who had downed too much champagne. Remus hated these parties, but he had to make a living somehow. Hustling for the good life was exhausting but the end always rewarded the means. He could forget how miserable these parties were when he finally had what he wanted.

His eyes eventually landed on a familiar man with sleek black hair pulled into a bun. He recognized him, from these very parties in fact, but he hadn’t seen him for years. He remembered the man’s piercing gray eyes, his overconfident posture, and his clunky black boots. Remus used to stare at him during these events, reveling in the shape of the man’s shoulders and the way he’d shed his jacket and roll up his sleeves.

The last time Remus had seen him was when he was nineteen, just starting to learn the life of a con man. Back then he had been on the cusp of adulthood, masquerading as a man when he was only just a boy. The man appeared to be close to Remus’ age and mysterious. He had always seemed carefree and out of place. Though his appearance screamed aristocrat, his smile held the mischief of a vagabond.

The man had disappeared abruptly, never showing his face at another event again. That was, until tonight.

He looked just as beautiful as Remus remembered, but still painfully out of reach. He seemed like a wild and free spirit, someone who wouldn’t be scandalized to be seen with him. He wasn’t the type of man that Remus could scam and milk for money. Remus didn’t have time to waste on anything else. But momentarily, sliver met gold, the stranger’s eyes strong and unwavering. Remus nearly shivered under his gaze but looked away quickly.

That night Remus spoke to a man in politics, whispering in hushed voices in a back hall, promises of riches if Remus promised not to tell. It was just as he planned. The gentleman left to return to the party and dote on his unsuspecting wife, leaving Remus to lean against the wall with a satisfied smirk. He felt a presence next to him and he turned, meeting the iron eyes he hadn’t been able to get out of his mind all night. The man smirked at him and crossed his arms. His bun had become slightly messy, pieces of hair falling to frame his face. The way he was looking at Remus was dangerous.

“Care to dance?” he asked, making Remus’s cheeks go pink. Remus leaned his head back against the wall, letting his eyes roam over the stranger’s body before turning away.

“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” he said after a moment. The man grunted in response, his eyes never leaving Remus’s side profile.

“I’ve seen you before haven’t I?” he asked Remus with a furrowed brow.

“I come to these events quite often,” Remus replied. The man narrowed his eyes.

“But the thing is,” he said, “I know everyone who’s invited to these little soirees and I don’t know you.” Remus smiled to himself and took a lazy look back towards the man.

“Whoever said I was invited,” he answered with a chuckle. A grin broke out across the other man’s face and Remus felt something in his stomach twist. Remus couldn’t risk taking a liking to this gorgeous stranger no matter how sharp his cheekbones, as love could never fit into his lifestyle. It was a realization he had come to a long time ago, a sad one, but it was the truth.

“So what is your name then?” he asked with a smirk. Remus thought for a moment, trying to decide whether he should give his given name or an alias.

“Remus Lupin,” he said finally. The man raised his hand for Remus to shake. Remus grabbed his palm, the stranger’s grasp warm and firm.

“Sirius Black,” he said, his eyes glinting. Remus faltered for a moment.

“As in…” he began.

“Walburga and Orian Black? Yes, I’m their son,” he said, interrupting Remus. Remus swallowed thickly and looked away, a pit forming in his stomach. For some reason, some part of him had wanted Sirius to be like him: a wandering man with no destination and a knack for fooling the rich. But it seemed that he had been mistaken, Sirius was one of them, among the ranks of the men he had swindled, and Remus had just told him his name.

“Not that they’d ever call me that,” Sirius said quickly as if sensing Remus’s internal panic. “Left home when I was eighteen. I’ve been disowned and disinherited,” he said, bitterness ebbing into his voice. Relief flooded through his veins for a moment, a feeling he felt guilty for seconds later.

“That must have been hard,” Remus said after a beat. Sirius just shrugged and loosened his tie.

“In all honesty, I’m happy to be away from them,” he said, “And it’s fine. I get by.” Remus nodded.

“So what do you do now?” he questioned, “You know, to get by?” Sirius smirked at him and gestured to the ballroom.

“I do this,” he answered, “There are plenty lonely women on the other side of the marriages you ruin, Lupin.” Remus let out a surprised laugh, not quite expecting Sirius’s bluntness. Sirius only smiled wider at the sound f his laughter, giving Remus a look that could only end in disaster.

Remus’s night ended in the coat closet with Sirius’s lips pressed against his own, ignoring the party and the potential scheming for the feeling of his hands running through Sirius’s dark hair.

Remus wasn’t sure what he expected to come out of that night. No contact information had been exchanged. After pressing several searing kisses to Remus’s lips, Sirius had straightened his coat and exited the closet, leaving Remus behind.

It was a month until Remus attended another party wearing a fancy new suit that a mayoral candidate had purchased for him, secretly of course. This party was in the garden behind some manor, a white tent pitched among the flowers and lanterns hanging from trees. As soon as Remus pulled back the tarp and headed into the heart of the banquet. He convinced himself that his eyes were searching for his next conquest, not for Sirius. But he froze when he caught sight of the man across the crowd with his hand resting on the forearm of an expensive-looking woman.

Remus sighed before heading into the throng of the crowd, reminding himself that the fleeting moment he had shared with Sirius had been nothing and they were both here now with a purpose. He couldn’t get sidetracked or too attached. So as the night wore on he met with various men, planting the seeds for his various affairs and subsequent funds.

As the party dwindled he felt a hand on the small of his back and he looked up to catch Sirius’s burning gaze. Sirius pushed past him, using his carefully placed hand to maneuver around Remus, his eye contact lingering as he headed towards the exit. Remus counted to a hundred in his head before downing his drink and excusing himself from the conversation and heading outside.

Remus left the tent, walking around the side in an attempt to find Sirius. After a short walk, he was met with Sirius’s back, the other man looking up at the sky. A twig broke under Remus’s foot, alerting Sirius to his presence. He spun around with a wide smile.

“Took you long enough,” Sirius said before stepping towards him, “I almost thought you didn’t read my signals correctly.” Remus chuckled before Sirius grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him in for a blazing kiss. When Sirius pulled back he had a self-satisfied smile on his face, his grey eyes reflecting the stars.

After that night, every party that Remus attended became less about profit and more about the chance he could catch a glimpse of Sirius. He felt himself falling down a rabbit hole, feelings he had always scorned now bubbling to the surface. He didn’t know what Sirius wanted from him, but frankly, he didn’t care. Remus couldn’t offer him money or anything material, all Remus could offer was himself. He had been in this business long enough to know that he wasn’t enough for men like Sirius. But he was too caught up in the excitement of clandestine meetings and secret rendezvouses to dwell on it. The way that he’d catch Sirius stealing glances at him from across the room while simultaneously attempting to swindle one of his mother’s friends sent electricity down Remus’s spine every single time.

After their fourth encounter, Remus had the courage to slip his number into Sirius’s pocket, praying that his confidence was good and not a misstep. He sat by the phone anxiously for hours, waiting for the man he felt himself quickly falling for to call. And to Remus’s delight, he did.

After a particularly slow Christmas party, Remus found himself once again in Sirius’ arms. After months of parties, the arrangement had become less about their surface-level attraction. Gone were the nights of senseless kissing and grappling for honest human touch. Now, nights were spent learning of their pasts, tracing fingers across shoulders, and memorizing the shape of each other’s smile.

Here, Remus laid with his head resting in the crook of Sirius’ neck, breathing in his expensive scent and listening to the sound of his breathing. He thought the other man was asleep, his eyelids fluttering against his cheeks and his muscles relaxed. If Remus had suspected that Sirius was conscious, he never would have been so bold. He swiped a strand of dark hair from Sirius’s cheek and pressed a kiss to his jaw before murmuring the words that he had never thought he would say.

“I love you,” Remus whispered, the honesty of it all hitting him square in the chest. In the past, the words had only ever been used as a weapon, as a tool of manipulation. But as they left his lips, his eyes trained on Sirius, he knew that he had never once meant something so much in his life. The words were completely unselfish and authentic. Remus, for once, didn’t want or expect anything in return.

The air around him stilled as Sirius whispered that he loved him too.

Months later Remus stood in the lounge of a country club, tying up some loose ends. He sat at the end of the bar when a conversation to his left caught his interest. A few ladies that he knew Sirius had conned were lunching together, discussing Remus’s lover.

“I haven’t seen the boy in ages,” one of them said, scandalized.

“Not since the Malfoy’s Christmas party,” another one added with raised eyebrows.

“Quite a handsome young man, it’s a shame he’s run off again,” a third woman said. They all nodded in agreement and sipped their tea. Remus smiled to himself as he listened, knowing exactly where Sirius had disappeared to.

When Remus arrived home he walked towards his bedroom, kicking a familiar pair of black boots out of the way. He climbed back into bed and was immediately met with Sirius pressing languid kisses to his jaw.

“I missed you,” he murmured into Remus’s neck. Remus smiled, pushing Sirius’s hair out of the way and leaning in for a real kiss. Once they parted Sirius curled up into Remus’s side, his head on his chest.

“I love you,” Remus whispered, pressing a sweet kiss to Sirius’s temple. He had said the words to countless, people many times. But the words were only spoken when he needed something from them. It wasn’t until Sirius that the words meant anything. And Remus knew that never in his life would he want to say the words to anyone else.

#wolfstar #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #marauders era #marauders fic #young marauders #marauders fanfiction #hp marauders #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fluff #wolfstar fic #sirius black x remus lupin #sirius black/remus lupin #remus lupin x sirius black

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zigsnose · 4 years ago

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Edits Masterlist

*I've hit the limit for the amount of links you can have in a post, so check the "zn edit" tag for any missing links

📖 Blades of Light & Shadow

Genderbend: Aerin, Mal, & Nia

Modern AU: Imtura, Mal, Nia, & Tyril

Imtura:

M! Imtura

Mal:

Character swap: Raleigh Carrera

Nia:

D&D Dresses

Tyril:

As a rogue

📖 Bloodbound

Male MCs

MC from the Hot Couture cover in the "Spread Your Wings" outfit

Kamilah:

Professor at Belvoire

Lily:

In natural hairstyles

On the cover of Book 2

📖 The Crown & The Flame

Character swap: Luisa & Val

Main cast in present-day Cordonia

📖 The Elementalists

Pend Pals in D&D attire

Pend Pals as kids

Tim with a hat

Atlas:

Black M! Atlas in different hairstyles

📖 Endless Summer

Realistic: Estela, Jake, Sean, & Quinn

Realistic Jake v2

Realistic: Grace, Aleister, Raj, & Michelle

Realistic: Diego, Varyyn, Craig & Zahra

Realistic Diego v2

Realistic: Rourke, Lundgren, Mike, & Fiddler

Realistic: F! MCs

Realistic: M! MCs

Ember of Hope looks

📖 Foreign Affairs

Fancier "Soiree of Nations" outfit on masculine MCs

More casual "Soiree of Nations" outfit on feminine MCs

Blaine:

F! Blaine but she's edgier and buff

F! Blaine in suits

Tatum:

In casual outfits

In barongs

📖 The Freshman

Masc MCs

TF x Bloodbound icons

📖 The Haunting of Braidwood Manor

Modern! Eleanor

📖 Hero

Realistic: Eva, Grayson, Kenji, & Caleb

Realistic: Poppy, Dax, Silas, & Shrapnel

Realistic: F! MCs

📖 Hot Couture

Luz:

Luz & MC in matching fits

College! Luz

📖 Laws of Attraction

Custom Female Ricci (+ Latino Gabe)

📖 Mother of the Year

Levi:

MOTY appreciation week

F! Levi

📖 My Two First Loves

Principal Jennings every day to his son

Noah x Mason ala TNA

Ava:

Better winter outfit

📖 Nightbound

Alternate Niks on the cover

📖 Open Heart

Elijah with a beard

Open Heart but it's all women (+ M! Jackie)

Aurora:

Date Idea | Rock-climbing

Rock-climbing outfits

Casual outfits

Bryce:

Shazam-style poster

Date Idea | Cooking class

Teen! - (1)(2)

Hair AU

As a circus performer (Distant Shores) w/ Jackie

Ethan:

Date Idea | Hiking

Custom Male Dr. Ramsey

Custom Female Dr. Ramsey

Jackie:

Date Idea | Axe-throwing

As a circus performer (Distant Shores) w/ Bryce

Rafael:

Date Idea | Samba lesson

📖 Platinum

Male MCs

Raleigh:

M! Raleigh singing Pink Sweat$ songs

Character swap: Mal Volari

📖 Queen B

Zoey, Poppy, Chloe & Veronica in winter outfits

Genderbend: Zoey, Poppy, Chloe & Veronica

Genderbend: Carter, Luis, Ford, & Michael

Masc MCs

📖 Red Carpet Diaries

Masc MCs

📖 Ride or Die / With Every Heartbeat

Updated RoD/WEH Black MC

Masc MCs

F!Logan

📖 The Royal Masquerade

Hunter icons

Kayden icons

📖 The Royal Romance

TRR but it’s all women

F! Liam: Face 2 & 3

More F! Drake

M! Hana

— Miscellaneous

Custom app icons

Curvy F!MCs | Extras 1 - 2 - 3

Lovelink matches in Choices style:

Emerson w/ animated facial expressions | Other outfits

Taylor

Sheng's casual outfit

Character recreations from other games:

Cove Holden from Our Life: Beginnings & Always

Lucas Charming from Lovestruck's Ever After Academy

MC & Zoe Banks from Lovestruck's Queen of Thieves

Leon Kwan & Nikolai Stirling from Lovestruck's Queen of Thieves | Extras

Unit Bravo from The Wayhaven Chronicles | Part 2

Julian Devorak from The Arcana

Asra Alnazar from The Arcana

Muriel from The Arcana

#zn edit

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illneverrecover · 5 years ago

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is that so? (M) | jwy

➛pairing: Jung Wooyoung x Reader ➛genre: non idol!AU, established relationship, fluff, smut ➛word count: 5,094 ➛rating: M ➛warnings: oral sex (female receiving), food play if you squint?, marking, biting, slight roughness, praise, anal play (female receiving), butt plugs, unprotected sex, wooyoung being a loud sweet man. ➛summary: You’ve had a rough few days - hell, weeks - at work, and your new boyfriend Wooyoung knows just how to show you how much you’re appreciated. ➛notes: EEEE, My first Ateez fic! I’ve been following Ateez since debut and fell completely in love with them, so I was excited when one of my fave clowns ladies, @thiccasswonhoruinedmylife commissioned me to write a Wooyoung piece. She requested something with Wooyoung cooking for an anniversary present with smut and fluff, which fits him perfectly tbh. Love you Bri, I hope you enjoy! 🖤 ➛song: Try/Effortless - DVSN & Say My Name - Ateez

Fuck, you’re tired.

You’re always tired.

You can’t remember the last time you didn’t feel exhausted, where you felt well rested by the time your alarm went off at the crack of 5 am. Work was draining you to the dregs, long hours with even longer meetings (that could have been EASILY summed up in an email) and copious hours spent hand holding grown men on how to do their jobs (but getting paid infinitely less than them.) They take their toll, and now you dread going - hell, even looking at the building could kill your mood.

The only saving grace was your amazing boyfriend.

You hadn’t been dating too long, about two months, but it was one of those things where you had an instant connection, the click of two puzzle pieces fitting just right. It had been at one of your friends house parties (the ones you normally skip due to wanting to catch up on sleep) but this time she had insisted you come, adamant that you met her boyfriend’s friend who had recently moved back into town. You had brushed her off; knowing her for as long as you had, there was a solid chance that whomever her and her long time beau, Seonghwa, were trying to set you up with was either not your type, a fuckboy, or a combination of both.

However, she had badgered you enough that you agreed to go, if only to get her off your back for the next few soirees (and to get her to lay off the dramatic gifs she had been spamming you with). Running late from work, you showed up in your business casual a few hours after it had started, the place eerily quiet as you could see silhouettes of guests mingling on the back porch. Taking advantage of not being noticed quite yet, you had decided to make yourself a strong glass of liquid courage before facing her and whatever fuckery was afoot for the evening.

You had just reached into the back of the fridge for the bottle of strawberry soju you knew was waiting for you when a voice had you jumping.

“Anything good in there?”

Whirring around, you had found a blonde man eyeing you, hair swept off his forehead to show off his glistening skin. Your eyes dropped to his mouth, his plush coral lips curved up into a sly smirk as he leaned his forearms down against the counter.

“Yes, as a matter of fact,” you swallowed, raising a brow at the stranger. “I know Red always keeps a bottle of strawberry soju in her fridge for little old me, hidden in the back so Seonghwa doesn’t steal it.” You had popped open the lid, choosing to chug straight from the bottle instead of fussing with a glass. “I promise I’m not just rummaging through there.”

He had laughed then, his voice pitching higher than you had expected, and it had made you smile.

. He held his hands up in a surrender, palms out, a toothy grin on his face. “Hey, no judgment. I was about to do the same - but for food. Seongie is out there trying to grill but he’s such a perfectionist it’s taking forever, even Red is threatening to call for take out.”

Chuckling, you shook your head. “Sounds about right. I’m Y/N, by the way,”

Holding out a hand, you had waited until he placed his palm in your own, giving it a firm nod.

“I’m Wooyoung, Seongie’s friend. I just moved back into town.”

Ah, so he was the mysterious unofficial blind date.

You had eyed him then, fully taking him in from head to toe, assessing him as if you’d be able to tell his character from undressing him in your mind. He had been wearing some kind of dark button down, the top buttons open to bare some of his tanned chest, a jean jacket thrown over top to keep it casual. A few black chokers circled his neck, emphasizing the muscles there, matching the wash of his inky skinny jeans that were so tight you weren’t totally convinced that they hadn’t been painted on.

His eyes had widened at your appraisal, but he hadn’t spoken a word, instead giving you another smirk while waiting for you to comment.

“It’s nice to meet you, Wooyoung.”

And it really was. From that point on, you two had been inseparable, even once rejoining the official party. Staying hip to hip, you talked about anything and everything, from the most mundane to the downright unexpected (you don’t think you have ever seen a grown man discuss Harry Potter with such wonder in his eyes), and you found yourself not wanting to go home, even as everyone else cleared out. It was only natural to accept his invitation to continue your evening, to be squeezed into a 24 hour diner booth discussing movies until the bleary hours of early morning over a plate of french fries. You just didn’t want the moment to be over, for the night to end, for the spell to dissipate.

Luckily, you had both been on the same page.

Fate had taken its course from there, and there wasn’t a day that passed that you and Wooyoung didn’t see each other, even if it was just over FaceTime as you warmed up leftovers after work. He was so attentive, so sweet, so funny, bringing back a spark into your life that you hadn’t even been aware of that was missing.

Maybe you had moved a little fast in the perception of others, but to you, it had just felt instinctive to exchange love declarations after the third week, to swap apartment keys sometime during the fifth.

Unfortunately, your work schedule has been relentless, your days still painfully long and showing no signs of stopping. Wooyoung is understanding, always offering to run your errands for you and asking how he can help make your life easier. Even when he can’t help, when the load gets too heavy to bear - he holds you, lets you rage cry out your frustration, rubs soothing circles into your back until you feel a weight lifted once more. “I’d do anything to see your smile, Jagiya,” he’d tell you with a wide grin, light in his eyes.

And he went out of his way to make that promise come true as often as possible, from little notes left on your door when you come home at night, to silly dance moves in your kitchen as a Britney Spears song blares from your Bluetooth speaker. He even made sure to make your one month anniversary special by having your favorite flowers waiting for you when you got home, your bedroom turned into the vision of comfort with blankets and pillows and a large bowl of popcorn, perfect for a movie marathon.

He was truly the perfect man, the reason you got out of bed in the morning, the inspiration to fight through the longest of shifts - and you were so thankful to have him, always hoping he could feel how much his love meant to you.

So it wasn’t a surprise when you came home to him cooking inside your apartment one Friday night after work.

You had actually gotten off work at a decent time for once, feet crossing the threshold just as the clock showed it was a quarter after 5, and you had sighed heavily with relief when the smell of sauteed garlic hit your nose. Kicking off your heels, you wandered towards the kitchen, your heart skipping a beat when you saw your boyfriend standing at the stove.

He has a bright red apron tied around his neck, a flash of words on the front though you couldn’t quite read them. Instead, you were too focused on the ingredients piled onto the counter, the slight flush in his cheeks from working over a hot stove. Candles were placed everywhere, setting the room into a soft glow, and there was a bottle of wine aerating next to twin glasses on the table, plates waiting to be filled.

He spins when he hears you, grinning at the soft look on your face. “Hey, Jagi. How was work?”

You click your tongue. “Don’t ‘how was work’ me, what’s all this for? Are you trying to spoil me?”

He moves towards you then, giving you an eyeful of his “May I suggest the sausage?” apron, complete with an arrow pointing down to his crotch, making you snort.

“First of all, how dare you. I’m always trying to spoil you.” Sliding his arms around your waist, you rest your face on his shoulder, melting into his touch. “Second of all,” he murmurs, lips pressed to your crown, “it’s our two month anniversary, so I thought I’d surprise you.”

“You are too good to me, Woo.”

Humming, Wooyoung sways, keeping you trapped in his arms for a beat longer before moving to plant a peck on your cheek. “No such thing as too good for you. Now, go sit down, rest, let me finish up. I’m just about finished.”

You do as ordered - moving to sit at the table, deciding to wait until after dinner to change, not wanting to take your eyes off of him. Instead you poured yourself a glass of wine, sipping it slowly as you watched him cook. It was endearing; seeing him work around the kitchen, brow furrowed in concentration when he would double check the recipe on his phone screen, tongue poking out the side of his mouth when he measured out a spice. He seemed to be taking it so seriously, making sure each step was perfect before moving to the next, which in comparison to the mess he was leaving in his wake, is amusing.

For what he lacked in skill, he makes up in confidence, wielding the knife with ease as he made the final slices to the meat, tossing them in a pan to saute. With a final stir, he adds them to the pot, gathering the sides with oven mit clad hands before sitting it down on the table.

A quick glance told you it was some kind of ramen, noodles and vegetables simmering in an aromatic liquid, steak lined on the top with some hard boiled eggs nestled next to it. Moving to the fridge, he grabs a few more bowls and side plates wrapped in plastic, bringing them to join the other dishes.

“I thought we could have my world famous ramen for dinner tonight,” he explains, tearing the plastic off to reveal the side entrees. “It’s a bit of a mashup of Korean kimchi ramen, but I also wanted you to have options on what to add to yours.”

He seems nervous, vibrating with untapped energy. Smiling, you reach out and squeeze his hand. “It’s perfect, seriously. Thank you, Wooyoung.”

Like a true gentleman, he fixes your initial bowl, walking you through all the side entree options and flavors, giving suggestions based on your preferences. Only once you are settled does he prepare his, grinning like a madman when he finally takes a seat.

Instead of tearing into the food like you expected, he stares at you, eyes dancing with mischief. Your hand hovers over the bowl, spoon suspended half way between your food and your mouth, and you raise a brow at him. “What?”

“Nothing! It’s nothing.” he leans back, placing both hands behind his head. “I just want to see the look on your face when you taste it, is all.”

“And why is that? Is there secretly an entire ball of wasabi in here or something?”

He giggles, head shaking. “No!” he protests, voice echoing off the walls. “No, I would never! How dare you!” you join his laughter, despite your spoon still being frozen, waiting for him to continue. “I just want to see your face when you taste the excellence and decadence that is Jung Wooyoung’s cooking.”

“Is that so?” you purr, cheeks starting to hurt from all the smiling you were doing. You couldn’t help it, he was just so cute.

Nodding, he slides his hands under his chin, propping his face up to look at you. “Yes, it is. Some would even liken it to a religious experience. Please,” he gestures a hand out, waving it. “Humor me.”

Without dropping his eyeline, you bring the spoon to your mouth, pursing your lips to blow a puff of air onto it before it reaches your tongue. It was the perfect blend of flavor and kick, the kimchi adding a satisfying crunch.

“So?” he prompts, practically bouncing in his seat. “What do you think?”

“I think this might be the best thing I’ve ever put into my mouth,” you sigh, already scooping your next bite.

He shouts victoriously, throwing his arms in the air. “Yes! I knew you would love it! You aren’t just saying that, are you?”

Swallowing the warm liquid, you lean forward then, grabbing his arm to leverage yourself as you plant a wet kiss to his cheek. “I’m not just saying it, Woo. It’s delicious, thank you so much for making it for me.”

His eyes crease as a wide grin takes over his face, adoration shining and mirrored within your own gaze. “Of course, Y/N. I’m glad you like it.”

The rest of the meal is shared over tales of your days, you filling him in on all the craziness of the office, while he tells you about the appointments he had and how his dance class went. It was always relieving, to come home at the end of the day and have someone to lament to, to share your life with, especially when they were so willing to do the same, and there isn’t a moment of silence as you and your boyfriend finish your dinner together.

You move to stand and clear the table, reaching for his bowl when he smacks your hand. “Absolutely not, Jagi. I am here to spoil you, and that includes cooking AND the cleaning. Sit back down.”

Giving him your best glare, you try to protest, but he isn’t having it, swift hands pushing you back into your seat as he grabs your bowl and heads to the sink. “Plus, who said the meal was over yet?” he calls over his shoulder, placing the bowls down.

“Oh yeah?” you chuckle, crossing your arms. “What else do you got for me?”

His expression changes then; previous playfulness melting away and leaving an edge to his smirk, a darkness to eyes. “Well, dessert, of course.”

You continue to eye him as he moves to the fridge, pulling out a domed container before walking it back to the table. Placing it in front of you, he removes the top with a flourish, kneeling down to your seated height. “I made your favorite,” he husks, voice low. “Peanut Butter Chocolate cheesecake.”

The cheesecake itself was beautiful; he had attempted to decorate it with some chocolate syrup and crushed Reeses, and the evident effort softens you once more. “It looks amazing!” you gush, looking to meet his gaze. “You really have gone all out, haven’t you?”

Instead of answering, he serves you a piece on a small plate, handing you a fresh fork. Grinning, you immediately cut into it, shoving a bite into your mouth inelegantly. Closing your eyes, you let out a groan at the richness of the flavor, chewing slowly to savor it. It really was delectable - the cheesecake a perfect dense yet fluffy texture, peanut butter swirling with the chocolate in harmony.

You were so lost in thought you didn’t pay attention to where Wooyoung had gone; why the room had fallen so silent as you revered your treat. You move to cut another slice off your serving, placing the fork between your teeth when you feel a palm slide up your thigh.

“W-Woo?” snapping your eyes open, you look to the side, expecting your boyfriend to still be kneeling there, but coming up empty.

Peering down, you instead see him crouched between your legs, wicked devilry glittering in his gaze. He slides both hands up your bare thighs, fingers tracing patterns right above the seam of your skirt.

Before you can say a word, he grips your legs and bows them out, making more room for his body, his mouth dipping to press a wet kiss to the flesh above your knee.

“You had such a long day. You work so hard, you’re always working so hard, Y/N. I thought it would be a nice little treat if while you enjoyed your dessert, I could also enjoy mine?” his voice was honeyed with molten lust, but it was still a question - still seeking your comfort.

Groaning, you lick your lips, breath hitching at his touch. “Of course you can,” you rasp, eyes closing once more when you feel his fingers caressing closer and closer to your core.

Dropping your fork, the cheesecake is all but forgotten when Wooyoung continues to trail his lips up your inner thighs, digits reaching for the now dewy panties at the apex, sliding them off your legs. Hand fumbling, you move to work at the side zipper of your skirt, wanting to give him more access, when thick fingers circle your wrist.

“No, Jagi. I want you to leave it on,” he murmurs, hands now moving to bunch your skirt up around your waist. “Like this, you’re so perfect like this.”

Whining, you rake your fingers through his blonde hair, tugging gently at the roots in a silent plea to have him move closer. Chuckling, he acquiesces, pupils wide as he takes in the sight of your dripping cunt.

He hovers for a moment, hot breath fanning over your sensitive flesh, and just before you could beg he drops his mouth to your center. Tongue flicking out, he swirls it around your already engorged clit, tracing the lines of your labia down and back at an unhurried pace, tasting you. Repeating the movements, he groans against you, lips sliding to suckle at your bundle of nerves until your thighs were shaking against him.

He coos praise at you in between long licks against your core, his finger dipping into your wetness briefly before being pressed inside of you. “You taste so sweet, feel so good, Jagi,”

Crying out at the sensation, your hand pulls at his hair once more, wanting the friction, wanting him deeper. He gives in for a moment, tongue rolling against your clit, pulling it between his lips and suckling harshly. You feel your high building rapidly, tension rolling from your bones to deep in your gut, threatening to snap at any moment.

Instead of hurtling you over the edge, he pulls back with a moan, resting his head against the cushion of your thigh. He watches his finger disappear inside you one last time before pulling it out, immediately popping it into his mouth.

Wooyoung looks up at you then, lips shiny with your arousal and eyes blackened with need. “I thought I’d have the patience to finish you off like this, but I don’t. I want to be inside you, now.”

Before you can even finish nodding your head in agreement, you're pulling him to you, cupping his face and pressing your mouth onto his. The kiss is hungry, desperate, dripping in passion, his tongue sliding against yours so deliciously that you feel like you’re drowning in him.

He pulls away enough to trail small kisses down your jaw line, your pulse, until he laves the tender skin at the base of your throat, making you whine. As he sucks and bites his claim onto your neck, you feel his arms grab your legs, guiding you to lock them around his waist before he’s shifting you up into his hold.

The low growls he makes while working over your throat have you distracted, arms coming to brace yourself around his neck as he carries you towards the bedroom. You’re gasping into his mouth when he spins to push you against the wall, pinning you in place under the lithe lines of his body. Throwing your head back, your fingers come to tangle in the hair at the base of his skull, hips grinding against him.

“Fuck, Wooyoung,” you pant as he alters his attack to the other side of your clavicle, insistent on leaving twin marks to claim you. His anguished desire excites you, has you clenching around nothing when he returns to peck at your lips.

He ruts up against you, and for a moment you think he’ll take you right here against your bedroom wall - not that you would mind - but then he slows his hips, releasing his tight grip on your legs as he pulls you towards the bed.

It's there that he undresses you completely, kissing each inch of bare skin as it’s revealed to him, murmuring words of love until you are naked and flushing before him. Sitting up on his knees, he quickly joins you - pulling his shirt off and throwing it haphazardly, kicking off his jeans and boxer briefs.

He stares at you reverently, eyes and hands always roaming the lines of your form. “I have another surprise for you tonight, if you’re up to it,” he husks, lips quirking into a grin.

“Is that so?” you repeat your words from earlier, unable to stop yourself. He chuckles lowly, leaning over you to open the drawer on the bedside table where typically you house your small collection of sex toys. You follow the movement, curious to see what would grab, but your eyes widen when you see him holding something you weren’t familiar with.

It was stainless steel, bulbed at one end before tapering out and flaring into a large circle at the base. The base had a beautiful violet jewel in it that twinkled when the light hit; a small bottle of lubricant nestled beside it in his large palm.

He had bought you a butt plug.

Seeing your expression, Wooyoung chuckles nervously, dropping the items onto the bed in order to hover over you. “I know we’ve discussed trying this in the past, and just thought that after the time we used my fingers, that this might be a good next step…” he trails off, eyes imploring yours. “However, if you don’t want to or don’t feel comfortable, that’s perfectly fine, Jagi. I don’t want to pressure you at all.”

Excitement tore through your nerves, your body lighting up at the idea of doing this with him. He was so thoughtful, so sweet, and you knew in that moment that you trusted him explicitly.

“I want to,” you purr, leaning up to bite at his collarbone. “I want to try this, with you…”

His face illuminates with a smile as he moves to sit up on his knees once more, grabbing the plug. “I want to try this with you too.”

Ignoring the lube for now, he closes the plug in his fist as he moves to lay down between your legs. For a while, he just kisses you everywhere, lets his fingers drag through the slick of your slit, gently rubbing at your nub until you are panting and relaxing against his touch. When your eyes start to close, he grabs for the bottle of lubricant, squeezing a generous amount onto the plug before doing the same against your tight ring of muscles.

Jumping at the sensation of cool gel against heated skin, you take a deep breath, letting yourself get lost in the sensations he was providing you. A thumb was still rolling your clit, while another finger was gently massaging the puckered skin of your ass. Your body felt like wildfire, molten and burning too hot, and yet all you wanted was more.

“I-I think I’m ready, Woo, please,” you whine, hands fisting in the sheets. “Please put it in.”

He groans, fingers stuttering at the wanton sound of your cries. He wanted to drag this out, to tease you until you were blubbering and begging, but between his throbbing cock and your sinful noises, he didn’t think he could wait any more.

Slowly, he starts to push the bulbous end of the plug against you, thumb of his free hand still working against your bundle of nerves. You tense when you feel some pressure, but Wooyoung is there to talk you through it, guiding you to breathe and relax as he takes care of you, edging the plug in.

You sense when it’s pushed in to the hilt, the jeweled edge nestled against your rim, and you sigh in relief at the pleasant buzz of the stretch.

Wooyoung slides to sit up on his knees, a hand coming to smooth circles on the flesh of your inner thigh, while the other palms at his hardened length.

“How does it feel, Jagi? You feel okay?” he breathes, slotting himself between your legs and closer to your center.

You nod, reaching out to grasp at his hips. “I feel so good, baby,” you praise, guiding him until his cock was dragging against your dripping cunt. “Now I just need you inside of me too, please,”

He hisses at your words, pressing the thick head of his length until it was slipping inside the welcoming heat of your walls, slowly moving to bury himself deep inside of you.

The fullness was overwhelming, delicious, his pelvis resting flush against your own. His brow was furrowed, mouth agape in a silent moan as he started to swivel his hips.

“F-Fuck,” you groan, nails dragging down the skin at his sides as he began to pump in and out of you, slowly at first, as if he wanted to make sure you were feeling every inch of him against your engorged walls. The plug was the perfect size to enhance each movement, the dual sensations making you mewl.

“Does it feel good?” he husks, voice impossibly deep as his thrusts increase. “Does Jagi like being so full of me? Likes having that little plug in her ass?”

Whining at his words, you chew at your lip, hands reaching out to tug him closer to your mouth. “Yes, I do, Wooyoung. Just for you, all for you.”

He growls then, hips moving at a punishing pace, basking in your sweet cries of his name, wanting to make sure you were fully wrecked and falling apart for him. He could feel you squeezing against him, so impossibly tight, and knew you were close to unraveling.

Dropping his lips to yours, he licked into your mouth, swallowing your moans as he slid a hand between your bodies to rub at your apex once more.

You broke the kiss to sob, head thrown back against the mattress. “Fuck, I’m gonna come, baby,” your orgasm so close you felt your cunt pulsating, your vision going white. After a few more pumps of his cock and probing circles of your clit, you finally come undone, walls constricting as electricity shoots through your veins, gasps tearing from your throat.

Wooyoung doesn’t last much longer, burying his face in your neck as he finally releases deep inside you with staccato thrusts, only stopping when he was sure every drop was nestled into your tender core.

Catching your breath, you lay for a few soundless moments, fingers tracing patterns on his back while he steadily came down from his high. When he finally moves to get cleaned up, he insists you stay put - instead bringing a wet washcloth and removing the plug for you, wiping you clean.

“Happy Anniversary,” he quips, slapping playfully at your ass, and you can’t help but laugh along, rolling your eyes at him.

After a quick trip to the bathroom you’re back in bed - and his arms - snuggled against his chest, eyes closed in contentment. Wooyoung is so tender, asking every few moments how you felt, if you needed anything. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were luckier than you ever thought was possible, and you told him so.

“What do you mean, Y/N? I’m the lucky one here. You are so beautiful and smart and successful, and you let me be in your life, let me support you. It’s all I could ever want.” he murmurs, eyes intense as he presses a kiss to your nose. “Plus, you laugh at all my jokes, eat my cooking, and are willing to try new things in the bedroom. You’re basically my dream girl.”

You laugh then, slapping at his arm. “Well, that’s good to know, and right back atcha.”

“What? I’m your dream girl?”

Giggling, you snuggle closer to his chest once more. “Yes. You’re my dream girl and I’m so glad I get to be in your life.” Leaning up, you meet his eyes. “I love you, Wooyoung.”

The responding smile is so bright you think it may blind you, but his joy was infectious as he whoops loudly. “I love you too, Y/N. So much.”

For a moment, there was nothing but peaceful calm, twin hearts beating rapidly as you let him lead you in a chaste kiss, pulling away to rest your forehead against his own.

“Even if your dirty talk could use some work, I love you and I’m still glad to be here-”

“HEY!” he yells, pushing back to look at you, face incredulous. “What do you mean my dirty talk could use some work?! My dirty talk is perfect!”

You shrug, a sly smirk on your face. “Is that so?”

Scoffing, he tries to slide out of your grasp, pout heavy on his lips. “Yes, that is so! What, was I supposed to call you ‘my greedy little ass slut’ right out of the gate? I mean, I knew you were a freak, Jagi, but I was trying to be a gentleman.”

Choking back your laughter, you lock your arms around him, bringing him back against you until you are spooning him tightly, cooing apologies in his ear. It took several minutes of cuddles and reassurance before he would turn to look at you again, his gaze still hard.

Grinning, you cup his face, your finger resting against the plush fullness of his lower lip. “Oh yeah? And what if I don’t want you to be a gentleman?”

“Then I guess we’ll have to go for round two.” he growls, before claiming your lips once more.

#wooyoung x reader #jung wooyoung x reader #wooyoung smut #ateez smut #ksmutclub #wooyoung scenario #ateez scenario #domestic AU #ateez fanfic #wooyoung fanfic #jung wooyoung #ateez #thiccaswonhoruinedmylife #commission #my writing #fic: is that so?#fic: its?

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laur-rants · 4 years ago

Note

M, X or Y depending on your pleasure :D

I might just do them all, lmao. M: Got any premises on the back burner that you’d care to share?

I had a Dream Daddy/Modern AU type thing with Corvo and Daud where Jess was still alive and Emily was the product of them having a soiree and hooking up. They meet because he’s a professional parkourist who also works as a stunt double and she’s like, a foreign ambassador for Canada or something, and they were both in Italy at the time. ANYWAY they aren’t married or anything (their jobs like, REALLY clash) but they share joint custody between Emily so she floats between them. Fast forward and it’s Corvo’s turn to take Emily, and he’s settling down in an LA neighborhood so that he can film for a movie (stunt double, aye). And Daud is the social worker (single dad with like, three adopted kids) who has to deal with their case and meets them that way. Also, Emily goes to the same school as Daud’s kids, and Corvo finds this out when Emily asks to stay over at their house, and who brings her home but Daud. :3c Also Corvo ends up having an accident at work, and is bed ridden for a while and Daud helps out with handling the kids and also sometimes makes Corvo dinner yadda yadda. It lives happily in my head, and one day, maybe, I’ll write it out.

X: A character you enjoy making suffer.

Corvo. Daud. Take your pick, it changes with my mood.

Y: A character you want to protect.

Alexi Mayhew. She lived, thank you very much.

#asks #fanfic ask game #joasakura #i almost didnt recognize you with your new icon!#looks great by the way #corvodaud #alexi mayhew lived and you can't tell me otherwise

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trashystarker · 4 years ago

Text

worth it - a starker two part story

Title: worth it - pt 1: ‘the party’ Fandom: MCU Pairing: Starker (Tony Stark x Peter Parker) Rating: Teen (College AU - Meet-Cute - Tooth-rotting fluff - Flirting - Kissing) Word Count: ~5260 Prompt: Party Make Out

Summary: Tony throws a party on campus, and has a strict rule about no freshmen attending his parties. Except tonight he makes an exception when he meets one that he knows is going to be trouble for him.

A/N: Here’s my next bingo fill for @starkerfestivals. This one is a two-parter, with the second part jumping the rating to M. :) Please enjoy!

***

Tony arrives at his own party late. He always arrives to his own parties late because what sort of god would actually be present for their own soiree? Certainly not him, and certainly not on time. Always fashionably late, so people can start to circulate rumors about him. It’s what he loves the most when he walks in, and then sees the look of surprise on everyone’s faces. Tonight is no different - as soon as he walks into his house that’s situated one block over from fraternity row - the music stops playing and everyone pauses, then cheers for the man of the hour.

“Please, it’s nothing.” He holds his hands up, signaling that the music can come back on, which the DJ takes the cue and makes the beat drop again. People start to come up to him, all wanting a moment of his time. Which he gives to them, in small snippets. Really - he throws these parties more of less so that when he leaves campus, he’ll forever be immortalized by the wild stories that get told about his reign over the school.

Someone taps him on the shoulder. Turning to look to his left, he sees a beautiful woman that he would be able to pick out in a crowd. His hetero life mate gives him a look, which immediately puts him on the defensive. “Oh my God, what the hell have I done now? I just got here, Pepper.”

“You said you would only be a half hour late. You’re forty-five minutes late.” She nags him, as the two make their way over to one of the many open bar stations situated throughout his house. “You live here. Where the hell do you go?”

“Why does it matter?” He approaches the bar. “I’ll take a vodka martini, extra dray, extra olives. And then a double shot of bourbon - neat, please.”

“People have been wondering if you were going to show up at all. Or, if you were already here, dressed as someone else.” The martini is handed to Pepper, while he takes his own bourbon and the two head towards the living room.

“Pepper, please drink that fast.” Tony encourages her, as he takes a sip of his own bourbon. He looks out towards the backyard, and notices a group of people he’s never seen at his parties before. “Um, question - who invited the freshmen?” He points to the group, as they are clearly new to campus, new to parties, and definitely were not old enough to drink. “I thought I strictly said that only juniors and seniors were allowed to come to this. And masters students.” Tony frowns, annoyed by these strangers.

He hears Pepper sigh. “You can’t be serious. There’s no reason for them not to be here. And please - you were attending parties like this when you were a freshman, and were specifically told you couldn’t show up.”

“I’m different.”

“No, you’re not. You’re an arrogant asshole who doesn’t see anything past his own nose.”

“You’re lucky I like you.” He points a finger at his best friend, who rolls her eyes at him. “Really, though. Who invited them? And why do they look so uncomfortable?”

“Probably because they know they’re not supposed to be here?” Pepper shrugs her shoulders. “Go and talk to them. Maybe that will help loosen them up.”

“The bartenders are carding, aren’t they?”

“So?”

“Maybe that’s the problem. They can’t drink because they don’t have fake ids, so they’re suffering while the rest of us are getting loaded.” He hands her his drink. “Here. Hold this. I’m going to kidnap one of them, and we’ll bring booze out to them.”

“Tony.”

“You know it’s a genius idea.”

He hears her sigh over the loud music, feeling it in his soul. Ignoring her, he makes his way through his living room and heads to the back porch, then down the steps to where the group of very uncomfortable youngins are hanging out. He clears his throat, and sees the pack of four turn to look at him with fear in their eyes. Oh, Lord.

“Um….hello.” He waves, then looks at the group. He notices that one individual is way more attractive than should be allowed. Wavy hair, beautiful brown eyes, a chiseled jaw that would make any gay man melt. A gay man such as himself. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“We’re sorry!” The attractive male immediately answers, his voice higher than Tony expects. Oh no. “W-W-We were just leaving! We-”

“Ah, ah.” Tony holds his hand up, happy to see the cutie close his mouth. “I wasn’t finished. What I was going to say was that you’re not supposed to be here, but who the fuck cares, am I right?” He looks back towards the house, more students piling in from who knows where. “I don’t care. I just say that no one that’s a freshman or sophomore can come to these parties so that the house doesn’t burst at the seams. You all are freshmen, right?” He asks, wondering if any of them were going to fess us.

“W-W-We are.”

“What Peter is trying to say is yes, we are.” The girl standing next to him looks completely put out and bored. “We’re in band, and heard that there was going to be a fun party tonight. We’ll leave.” She hooks her arm through the cutie’s, and he sees his face go scarlet. Super cute.

Tony shakes his head. “Nonsense. You guys are sticking around. Here. Let go of him.” He offers his arm to him, and sees how his hand trembles as he takes it. Oh boy. “What do you guys like to drink? Beer? Wine? Hard liquor? Jello shots?”

“I’ll take a beer and jello shot!” The much larger man in their group requests, Tony hearing the beauty on his arm groan. “What?”

“Perfect. Beer and jello shot.” He looks at the girl that had spoken to him before. “What about you? You seem like you’re a woman that knows what she wants.”

“I’ll take a beer. No jello.”

“I’ll have the same.” The girl on her left says. “Please.”

“Ah, a please.” Tony grins, and nods. “You guys stay here. So we know where to find you.” He turns to the cutie looking anywhere but at him. They start walking back towards the house, away from his friends. “What about you? What do you like to drink?”

“I don’t.”

The answer should surprise him, but it doesn’t. “Then, a soda it is.” Tony leads him back over to the bar that he’d gotten his drinks with Pepper from. “I’ve got a tall order, Marco.”

“What’ll it be, Tony?”

He rattles off the drinks, then looks at the gentleman who he still has his arm looped through. Once he’s done, he turns to look at him. “What’s your name?”

“Peter.”

“Do you know who I am, Peter?” He asks as he grabs the jello shots - thankful they were in plastic ramekins for this party. Last time he’d done actual ramekins. Those had been a bitch to clean - or so his staff had told him.

“O-Of course. You’re Tony Stark.” Peter comments, grabbing the clear plastic cup that had soda put into it. Clear cups were meant for those choosing the sober route, and red cups were for those that were drinking everything else. “We really can go. We’ll leave after they finish their drinks.”

He hands Peter the jello shots, and carries four beers in his hands. “I said you could stay. Why are you trying to fight me on this? You sure you’re a freshman?” Tony asks, as he retakes Peter’s arm, and leads him back out to the backyard. “Drinks, my new friends!”

The small group cheers as Peter hands them the jello shots, and Tony hands them the beer, keeping the last glass for himself. “Thank you, Tony.” The girl that had been giving him grief before holds her beer up. “I’m MJ.”

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, MJ.” He reaches for her hand, and kisses the back of it, all the while keeping his arm looped through Peter’s. He could feel him trying to pull it away, but he is having none of that right now. “And you are?” He asks, keeping his head bent, looking at the pretty blond girl.

“Betty.” She holds her hand out and he takes it, giving her the same courtesy as he’d just shown MJ.

“It’s a pleasure, Betty.” He turns to the last person in the group. “And who might you be?”

“Ned.” He holds his hand out, and Tony figures why the hell not, and kisses the back of his hand too. He hears the girls laugh hysterically, and sees there’s a blush on Ned’s face. “Holy shit.”

He grins, and releases his hand. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but I’m afraid that Peter is not going to be able to hang out with you this evening.”

“W-W-What?? W-Why not?” Tony turns to look at Peter, who is staring up at him with a shocked look on his face. “Am I being kicked out because I’m not drinking??”

“No, dear. You’re going to be spending time with me.” He tugs on Peter’s arm. “He’ll come find you later. Or maybe not. You three have fun. If they ask you for your ID, tell them I said it doesn’t matter.” He starts to pull Peter back towards the house. “I hope you don’t mind me stealing you away from your friends.”

“I….” Peter is clearly confused by what’s happening. “I’m still not sure what’s going on.”

“You’re hanging out with the guest of honor. That’s what’s going on.” He’s about to take him upstairs when he sees Pepper across the room, holding up his drink. “Ah, yes!” He slams the rest of his beer, tosses it into one of the many trash cans he’s stashed around his house, and drags Peter over to where she is. “Pepper!”

“Oh God.” She looks at Peter, and shakes her head. “Has he done anything to you? Are you okay? What’s your name?”

“P-Peter. I’m fine. I honestly don’t know what’s going on.”

Tony laughs, and grabs his drink from his best friend. “He’s cute, isn’t he?”

“Tony.”

“What?” He looks down at Peter, and sees he’s somewhat uncomfortable. Not wanting that, he pulls his arm away. “There. Is that better?”

“Yes.” Peter nods his head, not looking at him.

“Peter - feel free to punch him whenever you’d like.” Pepper gives him another look. “I’m leaving soon.”

“You just got here!” Tony sighs.

“No, you just got here. I’ve been here for an hour plus now.” Pepper looks at Peter. “Have fun tonight, Peter.”

“Thank you.”

She leaves them, Tony now realizing that maybe he’s been a little too forward with this really cute freshman. “Look, I’m sorry I dragged you away from your friends. You can go back to them if you want.”

“No, it’s okay.” Peter looks around, Tony watching where his head goes towards. “Do you normally pick up on someone at your parties, and keep them by your side for the night?”

He blinks a few times, then starts to laugh. “No. I’ve never done something like this before.” They make their way through the living room, and Tony pulls him into the entertainment room, where quite a few people have congregated around the large television and are playing MarioKart. “Why? Have you heard rumors about me?”

“I hear you’re pretty good in bed.”

Now it’s Tony’s turn to have red on his face. Taking a quick sip of bourbon, he tries to act all macho but it’s difficult when he sees Peter staring up at him with a smirk on his lips. “Well, don’t believe everything you hear. I’m not that good in bed. And what the hell - who is talking about me like that?”

“Everyone??”

“Right.” He snorts, knowing that there are quite a few spicy rumors about him floating around campus. “If there’s a rumor that I sleep around - well, yes, it’s true but it’s a mutual understanding.”

“Guess we won’t be sleeping together tonight.” Peter sips his soda, and looks at him over the edge of the cup.

Tony’s mouth drops. “Um, excuse me? Why not?”

“Because I don’t sleep around.” He shrugs his shoulders. “I prefer my sexual partners to be someone I’m in a relationship with.”

“You’re telling me that if I pulled you upstairs with me to my bedroom - which, by the way, is the only room off limits in this entire house - you wouldn’t?”

Peter shakes his head. “Nope.”

“You do realize who I am, right?”

“Yep.” The confidence that the freshman carries is unbelievable. Tony can’t help but admire him. “We can go up there, but we won’t be having sex.”

“That sounds like a challenge, Peter.”

Brown eyes seem to gleam under the limited light in the entertainment room. “Guess there’s only one way to find out.”

“Jesus, let me get us some more booze.” Tony looks over at the wet bar, and sees there’s no one standing there.

“I’m not drinking!”

“I know! I’m drinking for the both of us!” He shouts, then heads over to the bar, leaving Peter standing by the couch. He can hear him laughing as he approaches the bar, his head already feeling heavy thanks to the liquor. “I’ll take a Coke.” He tells the bartender, who stares back at him with a blank look in his eyes. “Just a Coke. No rum, Jack, or anything else.”

“You feeling okay, Tony?”

“Not really.” He groans, then takes the clear plastic cup and makes his way back over to where Peter is standing. “Alright. Are you going to follow me? Or what?”

“Lead the way.”

For someone he had figured would be all for a fun little fling with someone like him, Tony is surprised by Peter telling him no. Which makes him want him even more now because no one ever tells him no. Okay, that’s not true - Pepper told him no, tells him no quite often, but in regards to sex that had been a definite no. And really - he had been glad because as a bisexual man, he likes her but they work so much better as friends. No need to cloud that with unnecessary sex.

Going up the stairs to his bedroom, they bypass a lot of people mingling together on the stairs, making out, touching, groping. You name it, they’re doing it. Tony stands at his door, and punches in the code to go into his bedroom. Holding the door open, he waits for Peter to walk by him and into the room, then follows him in. The door shuts with a soft click, the sound of his raging party sounding far away.

Peter looks at the pictures hanging up on his wall, Tony suddenly feeling very self-conscious in his own bedroom. Who the hell is this guy? “You’re pretty smart.” Peter nods to one of the awards he’d picked up his sophomore year from the dean. “Why do you always act like a jackass?”

“Got a reputation to uphold.” He shrugs his shoulders, then takes a seat on the armchair in the corner of his room. “What about you? What’s your story? Where are you from? Why’d you pick this school? What do you play in band?”

“Trumpet.” Peter walks over to the bed, and sits on the edge, the two of them facing each other. “I came here because it was the only school to give me a full ride. It’s a nice college - but it wasn’t my first choice.”

“What was?”

“MIT.”

“No shit.”

“Yep.”

Tony takes a sip of his soda, grimacing when he realizes how much sweeter it tastes without any alcohol in it. “I thought about going there. Probably still will for my masters. But my father went there - and honestly, I wanted to go someplace where I wasn’t in his shadow.”

“Your dad is the famous Howard Stark.”

He nods his head. “Yep. Which is why I rent this house. Because Daddy wants me to have the best college experience possible. Tells me to throw these parties.”

“So you listen.”

“Like the good son I am.” The sarcasm drips off his tongue as naturally as breathing air does. “But who cares, right? I’m just some asshole that sleeps around, has a reputation for throwing awesome parties, and that’s it.”

“You also wrote a thesis on how chemicals bond with each other that is very fascinating.” Peter comments.

The more this kid talks, the more Tony can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Who the hell are you?” Tony asks. It’s becoming painfully clear that this kid definitely has done his research on him.

“No one.”

“What’s your name?”

“I told you, Peter.”

“Peter what?”

“Parker.”

And there it is. He knows that name. He remembers reading about a Peter Parker discovering a new adhesive that was more powerful than tape was, and could be used for a variety of items. “You got in here because of your work on that adhesive, huh?”

Finally he sees a shocked look appear on Peter’s face. “Y-You know about that?”

“You’re not the only person that’s full of surprises.” Tony gloats, happy to have one upped him somehow. “And here I thought you were on a band scholarship.”

“I am. It’s a dual scholarship for both band and chemistry.”

“That’s pretty cool, Mr. Parker.” He has no problem giving him the compliment, and seeing the blush appear on his face? Definitely worth it.

“Thanks, Tony.” Peter stands up and walks over to him, and again leaves him speechless as he drops down to sit on his lap. “Now that you know who I am, and I know who you are, why don’t you tell me why you brought me up to your bedroom?”

Tony swallows, suddenly feeling very nervous. Which is preposterous because who the hell did this freshman think he was, being all nervous around him down in the backyard, and now was all calm and collected? Frankly it’s turning him on like no one’s business, as he’s never met someone that he could honestly say is on the same level as him. Especially not someone that’s three years younger than him.

“It’s quiet up here.” Tony tries, but then sees Peter give him the same look that Pepper had thrown at him earlier in the evening. So not fair. He leans back against the armchair and sighs. “Okay, I did have hopes that we might get up to something, but you told me that that isn’t your style.”

“No, I didn’t say that.” Peter is quick to point out. “I said that I prefer to be doing that sort of thing with someone I’m in a relationship with.”

A lightbulb appears over his head. “Ah. I see.”

“So.” The weight of Peter’s arms resting on his shoulders causes Tony’s arms to break out in goosebumps, not at all expecting him to be so forward. “Want to ask me a question, Tony?”

How can you be like this when this is how I’m supposed to be? The question stays on the tip of his tongue as he sizes him up. He can see that Peter’s cheeks are flushed, his own are too. There’s an unmistakable connection between the two of them, and one that Tony is curious to see what could be there. It might end terribly, or it could be the best thing to ever happen to him. Too many variables, and not enough solid facts at the moment. But really - does it matter?

“Go out with me.” He doesn’t bother to phrase it as a question. He won’t accept no for an answer. “Go out with me, and let me take you to bed tonight.”

“No.”

He wants to scream. “No to which statement.”

“The latter.”

“But the former?”

Peter leans forward, Tony acutely aware of how he can feel his breath now touching his lips. It takes what feels like a minute for Peter to close the distance, and then the touch of his soft lips against his own has Tony digging his fingers into the armchair as he moans softly. Peter’s arms wind themselves around his neck, Tony releasing the grip he has on his chair in favor of putting them around the toned body that’s now sitting higher on his lap. He groans as their mouths pull apart for one another, Peter’s tongue pushing its way into his mouth. Tony moans as the wet muscle touches his, his arms pulling Peter tighter against his body. He hears him moan, his hands sliding up the back of his shirt to touch his heated skin, lithe fingers tangling in his hair as Peter keeps pushing his tongue against his own.

Breaking off the kiss with a sharp gasp, Tony moans low as he brings his lips to Peter’s neck. “No sex? You sure?”

“Sort of.” Peter sounds like he’s about to say something more, but then their groins come in contact with each other, and both release a deep moan at the intimate touch. “D-Don’t know.”

“I just asked you out.” Tony murmured into his ear, as he let his nails slide down Peter’s back with a gentle scratch. “Or, are you a person that has sex on the second date?”

“Dunno.”

“Why not??”

“Never had sex before.”

He groans, and then returns his lips to Peter’s, kissing him with the same passion that had been shared with him only moments ago. His cock is itching to be touched, but really - for this kid, he’s willing to take it slow. It might kill him, and honestly - he’s fine with that. “Fair enough.” He nods his head, then starts to kiss him again.

Peter ends their kiss with a soft grunt. “That’s not a deal breaker for someone like you?”

“Someone like me??” Tony blinks, trying to figure out where this is going. “What do you mean by that?”

“You sleep around.”

“I’m willing to change for you.” He tries to keep calm, not wanting to sound angry. “How is this not making any sense?”

“I don’t know.” Peter drops his head to his shoulder, Tony exhaling a long breath as they take a few moments to chill. “Sorry I ruined the mood.”

“You didn’t.” Another look. “Okay, it’s okay. Not a big deal.”

“You say that, but I’ve heard-”

“Rumors.” Tony looks up at him. “They’re rumors, Pete. You don’t know me. I want you to get to know me, though. And I’m telling you - if you don’t want to have sex right now? Cool. Thanks for telling me.”

“You’re not going to ruin my reputation, are you??”

He stares at him, shocked by his comment. “Why would I? I don’t even know you that well. I’ve only heard your name mentioned. I’m not that much of a dick.”

“I’ve heard-”

“Peter.”

“Rumors.” Peter repeats, looking down. “You’re right. I shouldn’t believe them.”

Reaching up, he touches his face, amazed by how soft his skin feels. “You came up here for a reason. What’s that reason?”

“I want to get to know you.” Lips touch his fingers, as Peter leaves a few kisses there. “You’re really cool, Tony. And not because of how popular you are.”

“Because you like my mind.” If he wasn’t already immensely attracted to him, Tony would fall head over heels in love with Peter just on the sheer fact that he knows who he is scientifically. “God, that’s so hot.”

Peter laughs, and then brings his forehead to rest against his own. “If I sleep with you tonight - I’m going against my better judgement.”

“Then let’s sleep. No sex.” Tony’s willing to make that happen. “But, I’ve gotta go make my rounds downstairs. This party is going to be going on for another fewish hours.”

“I should probably tell my friends what’s going on.”

“Go hang out with them. When you’re ready to come back upstairs, you can.” Tony grabs a pen and paper, and writes the code down for getting into his bedroom. “Here.”

“Are you serious?” Peter looks at the paper, then back up at Tony. “I’ve got the same combination on my luggage.”

They share a look, and then both start to laugh. “Sue me. I love that movie.” Tony shrugs his shoulders, then gets up and goes over to the door, Peter close behind him. He turns around, and quickly lays a long kiss on his lips, slipping his tongue into his mouth for a quick little poke around, then pulls back. “I like that you know ‘Spaceballs’.”

“I love Mel Brooks. He’s a genius.”

“He is.” Tony opens the door, and can hear the party still raging on downstairs. He looks back at Peter, and sees him close the door. They share a look, and then Tony is off to go make his rounds again as the proper host of this party.

It takes him a good four hours to spend time with the people that have come to hang out. At a quarter to four in the morning, he’s finally heading up the stairs, bypassing a few passed out people - they’re going to hate life tomorrow - and stands at his bedroom door. He hasn’t seen Peter since they were in his room together, and hopes that when he opens it he’s going to see his happy face. But, he prepares himself for that not happening, as maybe Peter has thought better of it. What does Tony have to offer to him, except heartache and annoyance? It’s been a long time since someone like Peter has taken a hold of his interest in such a short amount of time, but he’s got a feeling that Peter is someone special.

Tapping the code in, he starts to quietly push open the door and then creeps in. He sees Peter sitting on his bed, cross-legged, with a book on his lap. “I thought you were going to be up here hours ago.” Peter remarks, as Tony shuts the door behind him. “I’ve been reading one of your textbooks.”

“A little light reading?” He grins, and undoes the tie at his neck. “Sorry for taking so long. But, the good news is I’m here now.”

“And I should probably go soon, as I’ve got class in three hours.”

That comment crushes his spirits. “Right. Class.” He sighs, and goes to sit on the edge of the bed, not moving closer to where Peter is sitting. “I don’t have any tomorrow. Have to go do shit in the lab, though.”

“I said soon, not now.”

That perks him up, as he turns and sees Peter reaching for him, He willingly follows him, and soon their lips are back together, Tony slipping his knee between Peter’s thighs as their tongues touch again in the same desperate manner they had a few hours ago. He moans into his mouth, blown away by how good a kisser he is, and feels himself growing more and more aroused the longer their kisses continue. He breaks off the kiss with a soft groan, laying soft kisses near the corner of his mouth as he tries to figure out what he wants to do.

“Let me take you out on a proper date this weekend.” Tony whispers into his ear, as they get settled next to each other on the bed. “And I’m not saying this because I want to have sex with you right now.”

“You don’t?”

“I do, but I’m being good. I’m trying to show you I’m interested in you, Peter.” Tony opens his eyes, and looks into Peter’s chocolate colored eyes. “You’re making me work a lot harder for this than I’m used to.”

“I’m worth it.”

“I have no doubt in my mind that that’s a true statement.” He nods his head, smiling. “What do you say?”

“I can’t.”

He groans, and drops his forehead against his shoulder. “You have to work with me on this, Pete. What am I doing wrong?”

“We’re going with the football team to their next game. So, I can’t this weekend, but I can do the following weekend.”

That’s good enough for him. “You’ll give me your number before you go, right?” Tony hates how desperate he sounds right now. “We can text? Talk?”

“Yes to both of those.” Peter nods his head, then surprises him with another spit-swapping kiss. “Do you date underclassmen?”

“Never.” Tony shakes his head.

“Tony.”

Laughing quietly, Tony nods his head. “Okay, I sleep around with younger classmen. Date? No. But you?? I’m willing to take that chance.”

“I told you - I’m worth it.” Peter’s hand touches his chest, then touches his face. “I’ll make sure you know that.”

He moans low, and nods his head. “I’m sure you will have no problem reminding me.” Tony can feel his heart beating hard as he stares into his eyes. “When are you leaving?”

“Half hour.”

“Let’s make out until then?”

“Perfect.”

Tony hasn’t made out with someone like this in years. He’s always been more of a direct man - have a little foreplay and then get on to the main event. But this - Peter’s showing him how nice it is to just….kiss. And a little touching, but not much. He casually slips his hand back under Peter’s shirt, and feels him do the same, the light touches only adding to the sensuality of their kisses. He hears an alarm start to go off, and then groans softly when Peter sweetly ends their kiss with a quick flick of his tongue against his, then pulls away.

“You’re leaving.” Tony tries not to sound disappointed, but he can’t help it. “I’m sorry - I should have come up here sooner.”

“It’s okay.” Peter smiles, standing up from the bed. Tony watches him walk around it, then turns towards him as he stands next to his side of the bed. He closes his eyes as Peter brings his head back down to his, and lays another kiss on his lips. “I’ll text you soon, okay? I’m looking forward to our future, Tony.”

“M-Me too.” He stares up at him, then pulls him down for another kiss. “Go, before I try and convince you to stay with me longer.”

Peter’s soft laugh has his heart thudding hard in his chest. “Sweet dreams, Tony.” Peter blows him a kiss, then leaves him alone in his bedroom.

He flops back on his pillow, and stares up at the ceiling. Out of all the times he’s thrown a party like this, he can honestly say that this has never happened to him. Is love at first sight real? Because it sure feels like it is right now. He physically hurts, now that Peter is gone from his presence. He hears his phone buzz, and he’s quick to grab it. He sees a text message from Peter. “I had fun tonight. I’ll spend the night when we go on our date. We’ll have all night to have fun. Miss me this weekend, ok?”

“This weekend?? I already miss you, baby. I’ll be thinking about you a lot. Talk to you soon. <3.” Peter replies immediately with a smiley face, which makes him smile. Tony drops his phone, and shakes his head. Just like that, and he’s a goner. Peter Parker is going to be the death of him, he’s almost certain. It’s going to be the sweetest death, and one he can’t wait to experience with him.

XxX

Cross-posted to AO3

#starker #my writing #fanfic #starkerfestivalsevents #summer bingo 2020

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ao3feed-ladynoir · 4 years ago

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Agrestes

Agrestes by QuantumChickpea

Now that Adrien was twenty-four, he had accomplished many things. Nothing that his father would have approved of. Nothing that an Agreste would be proud of. He was aware of this, but he had no reason to not wreck the very name that he had left behind, even if Nathalie was breathing down his neck that he was the next Duke in line like that should sway him in any way.

Marinette sighed and brushed her hair, while peering into her vanity mirror. She wasn't excited for the soiree that her mother was putting on. It was all a ploy to get her married off. Her mother wanted her to find love, true love, but Marinette had given up on that ages ago. She had read enough books to know that one could not fall in love so easily.

Words: 4529, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Miraculous Ladybug

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/M

Characters: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Sabine Cheng, Nathalie Sancoeur, Nino Lahiffe

Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug

Additional Tags: Victorian era, victorian au, Ball, dance, Angst, Past Abuse, Consumption, Romance, Fluff, False Romance, no powers au, adrienette - Freeform, Adrinette, false romance to real one, Drabble, One Shot, Gift Fic, late Christmas present, inspired by Bridgerton, Bridgerton AU

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28508085

#AO3 Feed #FanFiction #AO3 Adrienette #💖#💚#Adrienette #Miraculous Ladybug #♥#R:T #A:QuantumChickpea #No Powers AU #Dance AU #Abuse

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hollyethecurious · 5 years ago

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CS AU: Dreaming You Into Reality (1/?)

Summary: Emma had heard of lucid dreams, but had never experienced one for herself. Disappointment over realizing the truth weighed her heart down into her stomach. If she was dreaming then that meant the man she’d been dancing with before wasn’t real. He was nothing more than a figment of her imagination… Who knew she had such a vivid imagination?

A/N: This is all @therealstartraveller776‘s fault. She shared this post in the cssns Discord, and the last lines haunted me until I had to write something. Naturally, @kmomof4 and @darkcolinodonorgasm shame some of the blame, as well. They are the worst enablers ever, and I positively love them for that! Also, shout out to Krystal for looking this over for me, especially since she shouted at me first ;o)

Rated M / ~1500 words / Available on ao3 and ff.net

~/~

The thundering beats of the bass concussed through Emma’s body as she writhed against the stranger who’d joined her on the dance floor. She’d never been to this particular club before, couldn’t quite remember how she’d gotten there, but the music was fantastic and the clientele was extremely appealing. Her current dance partner was setting the curve in that regard.

His large hands gripped her waist, pulling her in closer to his firm body. Emma toyed with the thatch of chest hair peeking out from where his shirt was unbuttoned rather scandalously before threading her fingers through the wisps of dark hair at the back of his neck. A shudder passed over her while she perused his features, wondering what the burn of his auburn beard would feel like between her thighs. As if he could read her mind, one brow arched up devilishly, joined by the tandem raise of the corner of his mouth before his tongue provocatively swept over his lips with the scrape of his teeth pulling at the tender flesh in its wake.

The blue of his eyes made her breathless, not only from their color, but the mysteries she could see swirling within their hue. Dark and stormy with a cold fire that threatened to ignite, burning away the thin veil of intrigue they were enjoying as strangers, two ships just passing in the night.

The beat changed, and so did their surroundings. Gone was the dark nightclub teeming with overt lusts that might satiate themselves in dark corners and back alleys. Now, Emma found herself in a glittering ballroom where the lusts were no less present, but were simply hidden behind propriety and social graces.

Spinning around, she found herself alone and garbed in the most exquisite ball gown of silvery blues and delicate feathers. A mask was secured over her face, her vision obscured by the tunneling effect of the slits at her eyes, and yet she could make out the other masked dancers twirling about the dance floor.

A masquerade ball? she thought in a moment of perplexity before the truth settled over her. “I’m dreaming!”

She’d heard of lucid dreams, but had never experienced one for herself. Disappointment weighed her heart down into her stomach. If she was dreaming then that meant the man she’d been dancing with before wasn’t real, nothing more than a figment of her imagination.

Who knew she had such a vivid imagination?

On cue, her musings summoned her dream man. Parting the swell of attendees, he swaggered across the dance floor until he was before her clad in head to toe leather with a bright embroidered red vest and a black mask affixed to his features.

With a bow he requested the pleasure of a dance, the quiet murmur of his deeply accented tone resonating within her chest like the thumping beats of the nightclub had. Although, the throbbing she was experiencing from the return of his presence was settling a bit further south, if she were being honest.

Before she could answer, he took her hand in his and began to lead them to the center of the soiree. “I know what you’re thinking, love,” he stated with a twinkling in those forget-me-not eyes.

“Oh?” Emma replied coyly, though her nerves were spiking as she watched the complicated steps of those surrounding them.

“Aye. You’re something of an open book.”

Well of course I am, she scoffed internally. He was from her subconscious. It made sense that he’d know what she was thinking.

That logic didn’t keep his next words from unnerving her with their accuracy.

“You’re wondering how you’ll ever be able to dance with me when you don’t even know what this dance is,” he surmised, placing one of her hands on his shoulder and grasping the other before snaking a hand around her waist. “It’s called a waltz, and there is only one rule.” The icy flame within his gaze sent a frigid heat over her skin, lifting the fine hairs of her body as he murmured, “Pick a partner who knows what he’s doing.”

Effortlessly, he led her around the dance floor, securing her tightly in his embrace, his eyes never leaving hers until the ballroom melted away and the scene changed again. This time, Emma found herself back in her bedroom, but while she stood at the foot of her bed in pajama pants and threadbare t-shirt she’d gone to sleep in, her dashing fantasy was still regaled in leather, his mask dangling from his fingers.

Without any words shared between them, Emma slipped the leather mask from his loose grip and hung it from the end of her head board. His heavy duster fell to the floor with a muted thud and his fingers began their quick and talented work over the buttons of his waist coat and billowy shirt beneath. After peeling off her top, Emma stripped him of his suspenders, her own fingers fumbling with the laces of his pants before he caught her wrists in his hands, drawing her eyes up to his.

“Your name, love,” he whispered, his voice thick with the want she saw clouding his vision.

Emma’s brows pinched together and her head cocked to one side. Shouldn’t he already know her name? Seeing as how he was all in her mind? Maybe this was part of the dreamscape? Part of the story her imagination was creating?

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she replied with a coquettish smirk, applying herself to the task of his laces once more.

“Indeed, I would,” he grunted, his eyes fluttering shut when she wrapped her hand around his hardening length, his girth expanding in her grip as she pumped him a few times.

“Maybe I’ll tell you if we meet again in another dream,” she said playfully. “If this isn’t just a one time thing.”

The fervent desire that this not be a one time thing washed over her, causing a shiver to travel down her spine as she lay soft kisses up the column of his neck.

“You don’t understand,” he strained as a shudder rippled through him. Stopping her ministrations again, he pulled away slightly to meet her gaze, his hand reaching up to caress her face with backs of his knuckles. “I need to know your name if we ever hope to make this real.”

“Make this real?” she parroted with a note of frustration. “This is some sort of elaborate wet dream. Believe me, if you take off those pants and start fucking me, the outcome will be real enough.” The edges of her fantasy began to glow with a warm hue of dawn. She groaned at the approaching consciousness she could feel pulling her back into wakefulness, but the signs of morning only made the man’s pleas more frantic.

“Please. Not yet,” he begged, wrapping his arms around her with his mouth hovering above hers. “I want to be real. You can make me real.”

“How?” she asked breathlessly. “What makes you so sure I can make you real?”

“Because,” he breathed, the feel of him becoming less tangible, forcing her to tighten her hold on him. “You’re the only one that truly sees me. The only one to bring me out of the hellscape of the fiery room I’ve been trapped in where nothing is constant. You are my constant. My way out. Please!”

The weight of her body increased as his form continued to evaporate. The man’s cries were still ringing in her ears after the room had gone dark, her eyes closed beneath the arm draped over her face, a single tear caught in her lashes from the echo of his voice.

Make me real!

Blinking away the moisture gathering in the corners of her eyes, Emma sat up and took in the room around her. Everything was exactly as she’d left it when she’d turned in the night before. Before the makings of a straight forward erotic dream had taken on the qualities of a star-crossed romance, leaving Emma with a void in her chest and unmet desire between her legs.

Well, she couldn’t really do anything about the hollow cavern behind her heart, but the other problem was no longer an issue when she finally pulled back her blankets and exited her bed. Thanks to a few items tucked away in the drawer of her nightstand and the memories of her dream man hot and heavy in her hand, Emma was able to shake (and tremble, and moan, and gasp while she got) off the melancholy her dream had left her with.

Now that is how a good wet dream should leave you, Emma thought as she began the task of making her bed, the blankets slipping from her grasp when she caught sight of something impossible.

If he’d been a dream… then how was his mask still hanging from her headboard?

Part Two

#cs ff #csff #cs fic #cs au #cs smut #smut adjacent #captain swan #cs prompt #killian jones #Emma swan #dreaming you into reality #words by hollye #CS ficlet #CS drabblet

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sabraeal · 4 years ago

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The Lone Wolf Survives, Part 1

Obiyuki AU Bingo A/B/O AU

When Eisetsu first mentioned the Alpha’s Masque, Shirayuki has pictured a grand ballroom, swirling skirts and lithe bodies packed onto the dance floor, deals made over the punch bowl or breathlessly conveyed over a set--

Certainly not...this.

Shirayuki can admit that she has not gone to many soirees-- as few as she could gracefully bow out of while she was at Lilias-- but she’s attended enough to form an expectation. A formal dinner to start, with a seating plan so complex it verges on arcane; dancing to follow, betas patiently waiting by the refreshments for the alphas to claim them for a set.

But this, this-- their coats are swept away the moment they enter the foyer with hardly more than a word. The scent of alpha is thick in the air, deep and musky, and Shirayuki smothers the impulse to cover her nose. A barrage blooms with every breath; barely ten minutes in this manor and already her sense of smell is dulled.

No wonder Zen is so eager to seek her out after state functions; another beta would be a relief right about now.

There is no food save what is passed on trays, and if there is a ballroom she certainly hasn’t found it. Instead, the guests decorate the honeycomb of rooms in groups of two or three, or litter the dim halls, heads bent together, voices rarely raised above a murmur.

A sharp, sweet scent cuts through the fog of alpha musk, and a tray swings into her vision. “Canape, alpha?”

Her hackles raise, every hair on end. Alpha. It’s been ages since she’s heard that, since it’s been more than a joke Obi uses to annoy Zen.

The footman stands still, gaze fixed to the floor, neck bared in submission. Citrus floods her senses, sweet and tempting, and-- and it comes from him. He’s an omega.

“Alpha?”

She blinks, taking in the pile of grayish matter molded atop a pale cracker-- goose liver, probably. They seem to love their organs in the north.

“Ah--” she waves her hands-- “no, thank you.”

His eyes dart to her, brow furrowed, before dropping again. “As you wish, alpha.”

Her teeth grit at the word, but she nods. Another footman passes, just at the mouth of the corridor, and she smell berries, thick and ripe on the vine. Another omega, eyes fixed to the floor and neck curved in submission.

Her heart flutters in her chest as she marches forward, hands wrapping tight around the glossy wood of the gallery’s rail. Below, footmen and maids turn around the room, the tang of fruit and sweetness of pastry heavy in her mouth. Omegas, all of them, submissive and vacant as they pass through a swarm of alphas.

Oh, no, no. She hadn’t thought--

Shirayuki shakes her head. She needs to find Obi. Now.

“Must we keep the windows open?” Rugilia wraps himself tightly in his furs, frowning at the glass. “It may be summer, Shirayuki, but it’s still cold.”

Even with the windows cracked, his scent is thick on the air; a decadent, cloying floral that overpowers Miss’s deeper, earthier tones. Obi’s nose tickles, on tenterhooks for the sneeze to come.

“Obi doesn’t like carriages,” she explains, sending him a faint smile over her stole. “He’s more comfortable if there’s some fresh air.”

“Ah.” Rugilia casts a measuring look over at him. “Motion sick, then?”

A single breath nearly chokes him, as if he swallowed a bag of potpourri. “Something like that.”

His lordship blows a hard breath through his teeth. “Well, you are welcome to ride alongside.”

Obi’s lips spread, teeth bared in a grin. “What sort of guard would I be if I left my mistress alone?”

Rugilia shrinks beneath his furs. “I’m here.”

His mouth twitches at a corner. “You are.”

That earns him a frown. “Sir Obi, do you think I would really--?”

“That perfume.” Miss stares intently out her window, gaze fixed into the distance. “What did Yozumi say about it?”

Obi shares a look with his lordship, one both confused, exasperated, and fond. “What do you mean, Miss?”

“I just want to make sure we’re prepared.” Her lips juts out in a thoughtful pout, right above where her fingers rest. “If our theory is correct, any one of us could be exposed to that drug at the party.”

“But that doesn’t matter, does it?” Rugilia settles back against the bench with an inquisitive tilt to his head. “It only works on alphas.”

Miss nods, absent. “That’s right. But I was thinking...”

His lordship tosses him another glance; a worried one this time. “Yes?”

She bites her lip. “I know that Yozumi said his lover was an alpha, but...”

Obi hums. Trust Miss to be thinking three steps ahead. “Ah, I see.”

Rugilia frowns. “Well, I don’t.”

Miss lets out a distracted sigh. “If we can make a simple perfume to cover our scent, what’s to stop someone else from doing the same?”

He huffs out a laugh. “Well, I wouldn’t say it was simple. It took you and Little Ryuu all day to cook that up.”

“Only a day,” she reminds him, “and if Touka Bergatt is behind all this, surely he has the means to get people just as smart as us.”

“Ah.” He winks. “Impossible.”

The shadow of a smile haunts her lips, but it spooks the moment Rugilia says, “But what would the purpose of that be?”

Obi lifts a brow. “Why did a beta like yourself go to an alpha’s ball for so many years?”

The lord clucks his tongue, scolding. “Why, to find an alpha to--” the words catch in his throat, eyes pulsing wide-- “oh no.”

Miss nods, mouth grim. “Right. Some alphas are born, but others...”

“So you think Yozumi...” His lordship grimaces. “His lover was just...?”

“He’s an alpha,” Miss confirms, jaw tense. “If he chose her as his m--” she hesitates-- “partner, then she would be an alpha as well.”

“To what purpose?” Rugilia asks. “He’s only a knight, not even of the royal circle.”

Miss lets out a long, tense breath. “Maybe just to see that they could.”

That leaves his lordship speechless, staring at her with wide, pale eyes. “Ah,” he huffs, collecting himself. “I still can’t believe that man is an alpha.”

She blinks, head at an inquisitive tilt. “What do you mean?”

“It’s only...” He struggles for the word, then shrugs. “What sort alpha would consent to be beneath another?”

Obi lets out a bitter laugh. “Ah, yes. What alpha indeed?”

“It is impossible to explain to you, Sir Obi.” Rugilia explains with a lofty sigh. “An omega couldn’t understand.”

It hardly takes three turns before Shirayuki is lost. The din of the gallery is long behind her, a murmur just at the edge of her senses. Back here, smoke curls thickly through the air, vying with with alpha for dominance. Truly, she hadn’t known there were so many of them in Clarines, let alone just the North.

She turns a corner and nearly runs headlong into the man idling in it. As it is she stumbles over him, catching herself on the gauntlet on a suit of armor even Mitsuhide would be pressed to fill.

“Ah!” she gasps, righting herself, full skirt caught up in her hands. “I’m so s--”

The remnants of her words fall away as her jaw drops. The man was not lingering alone; oh no, sandwiched between his chest and the wall was a lady, both of them too-- ah-- preoccupied to notice her untimely intrusion.

“Sorry!” she yelps, scampering down the hall as fast as her gown will allow. Which is not very, considering how there are three layers of petticoats at least, not considering the heft of the skirt alone, and--

And so she isn’t quite paying attention when she runs into her next corner-lurking denizen.

“Oh, no!” she sighs, blushing as she bounces off a chest. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking--”

“No need to apologize.” The man’s nostrils flare beneath his mask, and his mouth slants in a smirk. “Alpha.”

Ah, that-- that is not the submissive whimper of the footman, but instead a bold greeting between equals, a proclamation of positions, a--

--the man saunters closer, enough that she can smell the ash and musk of his scent--

A declaration of interest. She skirts back, breath bursting from her as her shoulder brush the wallpaper behind her. “I, ah...”

There’s no way to admit he’s wrong, not when the perfume that wafts from her is woody and deep, the quintessential alpha scent. His fingers pluck the fabric of her skirt between them, mouth widening as he rubs at the silk.

“Not unless you’ve been claimed for the evening,” he rumbles, hedging into her space. “Then I would be most put-out.”

“Ha--aah?” she squeaks, willing herself into the woodwork, wishing that she had some ready excuse to give. “I...I...”

“I’m afraid, my lord...” A gloved hand tugs the skirt from the man’s hand, and with a single, swift pull, she’s buried in brocade and roses. “...That the lady is already spoken for.”

“Eh?” Rugilia blinks owlishly, swinging his head toward Miss. “Shirayuki, I know you are here to help with the perfume problem, but surely you don’t mean to come to the masque yourself.”

Miss squares her shoulders, hands clasped tight beneath the table. “As Obi said, there’s no telling who will be needed when we’re inside. If any of you are drugged, I’d be useless back at the inn.”

Tsuruba clears his throat. “But were you not just saying, Mistress Shirayuki, that this perfume only affects alphas?” He takes in a deep, pointed breath, casting a measured glance over the three of them. “I don’t believe any of us are at risk.”

Obi stitches a grin onto his face. “Ah, but are you so sure, Sir Tsuruba? There are some of us who are mysterious by nature--”

“You especially, Sir Obi,” he deadpans, eyes hooded with annoyance. Still, his mouth twitches, right at the corner. “Out of all of us, an omega is the least likely to rut.”

His mouth slants into a smile, lips parting--

“That’s not the only drug to worry about.” Miss’s teeth sink into her lip, and his nose twitches at the sharp coppery scent of her anxiety. “Lord Eisetsu, you said some of the servants had trouble remembering past masques.”

“Ah!” His lordship blinks. “Yes. I hadn’t-- you don’t think that we could possibly...?”

Obi stretches his legs out long in front of him, grunting as his knees crack. “Touka Bergatt put all the knights of Sereg to sleep with a few candles, do you really think he’d bat an eyelash at drugging a bunch of servants?”

“Haah.” Rugilia’s eyes widen, mouth bowing with dismay. “But I never-- I mean, I could always remember that night.”

He twitches his shoulders, the barest shrug, hardly noticeable when it’s Miss that holds the attention of every man in this room--

But Tsuruba’s eyes shift, slanting to the corners of his eyes, observing Obi with the same sort of graceful calculation that His Majesty is known for.

“I see why you might be worried,” he murmurs, soft voice breaking the stilted silence. His gaze mercifully pulls away, intent on his mistress. “If you won’t stay behind, Mistress Shirayuki, then what do you propose we do?”

“Teams.” There’s a confidence in her that he could have only imagined before, back when she was a beta escaped from Tanbarun’s prince, trying to hold her own amongst the alphas of Wistal, and now--

Now it is second nature to her, speaking in a way that makes these lords-- betas though they were-- lean in, hanging on her words, nodding as she speaks. “We’ll go two by two. Obi and I will be one group, and you and Lord Eisetsu will be the other.”

His lordship stiffens, shoulders raised nearly to his ears, only good breeding keeping the whine from rising up out of his throat. “Shirayuki...”

She blinks, head tilting. “Is there a problem?”

“Can we really...?” His gaze darts to where Tsuruba sits, lips pressed into a thin, white scar across his face. “Ah, never mind.”

“I understand your hesitance, Lord Eisetsu,” Tsuruba begins, stilted, hands crimped in the velvet of his cloak. “I was once my brother’s beta, bound to do his will. I may not be an alpha yet, but...” Air whistles through his teeth. “...but I have already submitted to His Highness, Prince Zen. My brother holds no sway over me. Not anymore.”

“I see.” Obi does not miss the dubious glance Rugilia darts at Miss. “Well, I supposed it’s far too late to be questioning my mate in the nest I’ve made for myself...”

Her savior pulls her away, the kid of his gloves soft against her wrist. She stumbles after him, losing track of the dizzying turns he takes to lead her into an empty hall.

“Lord Eisetsu!” she breathes when they stop, not missing how his eyes dart over her shoulder, even the uncovered portion of his face a mask. “Thank you for--”

“You should be more careful,” he warns her, gaze dropping down to her own. “Not everyone is here for...plotting intrigue.”

“What do you--?” Her mouth clicks shut, remembering the couple embracing in the hall, how Izana had taken so long to pick the perfect alpha bride-- “Ah. Yes. Of...of course.”

A beta would be no prize for a lord, but a born alpha-- well, Eisetsu had attended these parties for a reason, despite his natural inclination.

Her mind churns as she looks at him, his face so foreign beneath his mask while his scent is so familiar. It’s an impossible task to marshal her thoughts, to try to put together what she’s only just begun to know-- the omegas, the candles, the lack of memory but not his-- and she opens her mouth if only to have the ideas out in the air between them, easier to sift through, but--

“Where is Tsuruba?” comes out instead. Eisetsu flinches, eyes darting to the empty space just over her shoulder.

“I...I don’t know,” he admits. “I’m afraid I lost him soon after we left the foyer.” He stares at the empty space beside her. “Isn’t Obi supposed to be with you”

“We were separated.” At least, she assumes so; one minute a footman was taking her cloak, the next she was alone in a sea of alphas, with only her perfume to help her. “I don’t know where he is.”

Eisetsu’s mouth slants into a self-deprecating smile. “I see both of us have been poor partners. Maybe we should--”

“I need to find him.” She grips his arms, holding him fast. “I-- it’s too dangerous for him.”

He laughs; not the rakish one he showed her that first night, but a deeper, smoother sound that’s real. “Shirayuki, I know you must be worried, but of any of us, Obi is the last one who would need rescue.”

“No, you don’t understand.” Her fingers curl into the wool of his coat, so much smoother than Obi’s dress blacks. “The servants, they’re all omegas.”

Eisetsu blinks. “I’m sorry?”“

“You said the servants would hardly remember what happened at the masques, but you, you were fine.” Her breath rasps harshly in her lung. “All the footmen, the maids-- they’re all omegas.”

“W-what? You can’t mean--” he scans the room, wide-eyed, nostrils flared-- “oh. Oh no.”

Shirayuki hopes he cannot feel how her hands tremble where they grip him. “Have you seen him?”

It is strange how with only half a mask, his face had become so foreign, so unreadable. But still, still-- there are ways.

His hands spasm where they cradle her elbows, fingers curling, nails digging into her flesh. His gloves mute her discomfort, but her heart still beats wild in her chest.

“Lord Eisetsu,” she pleads, stepping closer. His saw stiffens; what skin still left exposed turning paler. “Have you seen him?”

“Mistress Shirayuki.”

A hand catches her as she takes her first step down into the gallery, clasping the crook of her elbow. When she turns, it is into pale violet eyes she looks, as serious as he was at the in.

“Lord Tsuruba,” she murmurs, leaning toward him. “Is something--?”

“Take care of him,” he says, short and terse, so unlike his brother. “Keep him safe.”

She blinks. “I’m sorry?”

“Sir Obi.” His gaze is intense this close, his worry far beyond his years. “He thinks he can handle himself, but he’s in more danger than any of us.”

“I--”

His eyes dart over her shoulder, mouth pulling thin. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a companion to keep in my sight.”

“I have. I mean, I just did,” Eisetsu admits, grip loosening. His shoulders round, just the slightest bit, and once again, he’s the hapless lord she knows him as. “Just before I met you, in fact.”

“Where?” she breathes, searching over his shoulder, shifting weight between her feet. “Was he all right?”

His lips press together, white and thin. “I think so? He didn’t say hello, but...nothing out of the ordinary.”

The lords points past her. “Back that way, the second hall to the right.”

“Oh!” She gives his arms one last squeeze before hopping away. “Second...second hall to the right! T-thank you!”

“Ah...” He coughs, a delicate thing into his fist. “No, don’t thank me. Not yet.” The smile he gives her is faint. “Not until you find him.”

She nods. “Right. I will!”

Some of the tension leaves his face, and his smile becomes almost...fond. “Of course you will. Good hunting, Shirayuki.”

#obiyukibingo2020 #obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #my fic #A/B/O au #but like....not a real A/B/O because wolf packs don't work like that #and i refuse to participate is BAD SCIENCE #in here it is an 'inclination'#you have a natural preference....but there are mostly no permanent physiological differences #there are true born alphas #whose mates BECOME alphas since alpha pairs are how non-related wolf packs are actually run #but made-alphas can't make other alphas #and man of the older families like to 'breed true'#hence these sorts of parties

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