#the man is a gentleman and a tease. the worst combination | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

auspicioustidings · 8 months ago

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Ae Fond Kiss - Part 1

Winsome Wee Thing

Summary: This is the start of a story from this concept. You fall in love and you learn loss more ways than one. Words: 3.9k TWs: major character death (temporary), miscarriage

Parts: 1 2 3

You and your boyfriend's Lieutenant disliked one another immensely and immediately.

For you it wasn’t so much that the hulking idiot was in a balaclava, although you found the skull pattern so teenage boy edgy that it caused a cringe deep enough to feel right through your molars, it was the obvious dismissal he had for you. For Simon it wasn’t so much that Johnny’s newest pretty little bit was a smart arse, although he could practically feel the ‘not like other girls’ radiating off of you in waves, it was the obvious disdain you had for him. The first impression set the tone for what became a horrid relationship.

–

“This is my Lieutenant, they call him Ghost but I believe he prefers to be called-”

“That’ll do.”

There was something about the way he cut the puppy dog that was your boyfriend off that riled you a little.

“Nice to meet you, Ghost. Is that your gamer tag or something?”

“Never been one for games. You a gamer girl?”

“Not enough to have such a cool nickname.”

“Oh I’m sure we could come up with a nickname that would suit you princess.”

Gaz, who you did like, spent the rest of the night meditating while Johnny remained clueless to the simmering hostility between the two of you. Price didn’t really seem to know what to make of it all, but you found you had a natural respect for the Captain and as time went on, he was the one that could always tell you and Ghost to knock it off if he could see a fight brewing.

–

Johnny had been so excited to introduce you to his team and his team to you and the only thing you and bonehead could seem to agree on was that you would pretend to be civil when Johnny was around. So the jokes were underhanded but could be brushed off as humour, the vitriol was kept for when his back was turned, the eventual birthday presents were tactfully meant to appear innocent but actually be biting insults and the all out war that was had around a pool table was played off as healthy competition.

If it has been anyone but John MacTavish you’d have dumped him purely so you would never have to see Simon Riley again, but fuck you fell hard and fast for Johnny. You didn’t even fully remember your first meeting. It had been a blind date and you thought you had been stood up so got well past merrily drunk at the bar of a nice restaurant. You had not been stood up, your date had broken down in the snow and in the hours you had been drinking the flurries had become a full blizzard. But that wasn’t going to stop Johnny. In the middle of a backroad with a blizzard beating down and no signal to call he had hiked his ass all the way to you, getting there just in time to catch you wobbling out the door.

He had been a gentleman, hadn’t taken advantage. You woke up the next day with a handsome man bringing you breakfast in bed and apologising profusely for the whole thing. He had slept on your couch and admitted sheepishly that he had walked you home. From what little you did remember, you had made it difficult by starting a snowball fight and wanting to make snow angels every 5 minutes. You remembered the scent of pine and a roaring fire that enveloped you when he had bundled you in his jacket, breathing in and being transported to a log cabin in the Scottish highlands in winter, safe and drinking something warm with a hint of whiskey.

If you hadn’t already been falling for him after his bashful teasing that morning, you were flung head first into it when you spent the next week looking after him when his gallantry earned him the worst cold known to man. He was a big baby when he was sick and that combined with the terrible sense of humour that he had made you desperate to learn more about him.

–

“Ye cannae be mean tae me, I’m naw long for this world!”

For such a large man, he really was like a little kid bundled up in blankets and whining.

“Uh huh, that’s very valid and very sad but you still need to take your medicine.”

“I was never any good at swallowing, maybe ye can give it tae me as a suppository.”

Ridiculous man.

“Aww come on, swallow like a good boy and maybe we can talk about that suppository when you’re better.”

“Fuck, where have ye been all my life?”

His loopy grin nearly made you plant a kiss on his lips regardless of how ill he was, but instead you just ruffled his hair when he knocked back the pills and wondered how you were ever going to keep from loving this man.

–

The second date he had left you with a fond kiss at the doorstep after a wild night of earning enough tickets at the arcade to win him a little plush skull toy. He had been obsessed with it when he had first seen it, had told you he needed to win it for his Lieutenant. You thought that was adorable and had put your frankly suspiciously good reflexes to work absolutely rinsing the whack a mole for every ticket you could get from it. Of course had you known then that Simon Riley was the biggest ass on the planet you’d have hoarded your tickets and gotten 300 packets of Haribo instead (or so you’d like to think, but you knew deep down you could never have denied Johnny knowing how bright he smiled when he had traded the tickets for that stupid plush).

By the third date you wanted him so badly that you felt like a bitch in heat. You started to think that maybe you were making a fool of yourself with how calm he seemed whenever you sneaked a touch or whispered a filthy promise. God you liked him so much, it was killing you that maybe he didn’t feel the same. You needn’t have worried as it turned out, date number 3 was when John MacTavish had completely ruined you in a way you had not expected.

–

“This was really nice” you said, a bit embarrassed if you were honest and avoiding his eyes after he walked you to your front door.

You had been a menace the whole evening. You had never been some sex kitten but fuck he just brought it out in you without even trying. He probably thought you were ridiculous now with how you had tried to be all sultry the whole way through dinner. Fuck, your hands had wandered something awful during the movie as well and you felt the humiliation from it burn from your ears to your toes. He didn’t want you the way you wanted him and you had pathetically thrown yourself at him. He probably couldn’t wait to lose your number.

“Open the door.”

Shit. He sounded almost angry. The first guy you had really liked in a long time, maybe ever, and you had totally blown it by being over eager. You shakily unlocked your door and blew out a breath, prepared to go inside and cry over a glass of wine. Instead you were grabbed by the waist and slammed against the door to close it behind you so fast it made your head spin.

John MacTavish’s tongue was down your throat and he had your wrists pinned above your head in a bruising vice grip. You had only just found the sense to kiss back when his lips were gone and instead his teeth were sinking into the delicate skin of your throat. The whine you made at that was all animal, as was his answering growl.

“Next time ye misbehave like that I’m going tae bend ye over the dinner table and fuck ye hard and proper in front of all those nice, fancy people.”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. You had never gotten so wet so fast in your life. The nice lace panties you had on under this dress were soaked right through. He bit off a curse and your legs nearly gave out when he suddenly let you go and backed right off, dragging a hand roughly through his hair.

“Fuck, sorry. Dinnae hate me, I wanted tae… our first time I mean, I had it all planned oot. Which makes me sound like a creepy, presumptuous bawbag. And now I’m being a fucking reprobate and pinning you tae the door without even asking first.”

Oh my God. You could not just fall in love with a man after 3 dates. And yet looking at his blown out eyes, how his body thrummed with barely contained lust for you and how he nearly vibrated with the effort of holding himself back because he wanted to treat you right… you had fallen in love with a man after 3 dates.

“I thought…” you said, your hand coming to rest on your flushed chest as you tried to find the words. “I mean at dinner and then at the movie, I um… well I wanted you to, you know. I thought maybe you didn’t want to? Which is fine obviously. I mean if you didn’t want to.”

The whiplash from going from lust to humiliation to lust and back to embarrassment was not something you were enjoying. You looked at him, he looked at you and after a few long moment the two of you burst into laughter. What a bloody pair you made. He came over and wrapped you in his arms, that wonderful scent that just gave you a feeling of contentment deep in your bones sinking into you.

“I want to. Was hard for the whole film, couldnae move that popcorn bucket or someone was getting an eye oot. Wanted tae spank ye red raw for all that teasing” he confessed into your hair, so sincere and blunt about it that you weren’t sure your pussy was likely to forgive you if you didn’t go out of your way to tease him next time.

“Wanted?”

He laughed, probably because you sounded somewhat like a petulant child, and leaned back, hands going to gently cup your face. Looking into his eyes felt like a gentle falling. Falling into a warm bed on a cold morning after a hot coffee, falling into the first fresh powdery snow of the year, falling in love with a man you hardly knew but felt so much like coming home.

“Was planning on asking ye tae come with me up North. Got a nice cabin in the Highlands that I usually rent oot since my Captain is always going on about having a backup plan. Want it tae be perfect.”

“You don’t have to go to all that trouble.”

Nobody ever had before. In your somewhat limited experience men wanted to get to fucking as soon as they could and while a few had made sure you came first, none had ever put much thought into getting you into bed in the first place. It just sort of happened. You would never have said you were insecure, but at that moment you felt the crushing weight of feeling that you didn’t deserve this man making such a grand gesture just to get inside you. You already wanted him. And there was no way he wasn’t experienced, how would you ever be good enough to warrant all the effort he was going to?

“Hey, look at me beautiful” he said quietly, thumbs rubbing soothingly across your cheekbones and coaxing your eyes back to his. “I really like you.”

Those four words ruined you entirely. John MacTavish put his heart out there with such simplicity that it stunned you. He could have thrown you on the bed and fucked you rough and savage and you’d have enjoyed it, but instead here he was butting his forehead lightly on yours in affection despite his evident arousal because he wanted more than that.

“I really like you too.”

Instead of fucking, he held you while you cried like a baby, overwhelmed by the care he took with you. He only made it worse when he whispered to you how you deserved to be treated with adoration. He called you beautiful, bonnie thing, mo leannan, winsome wee thing (that one made you laugh). He refused gently when you wanted to take care of him that night, instead laying you down softly on the pillows and lapping between your legs to bring you to slow orgasm after slow orgasm until you were boneless and sated, slurring your speech as he bundled you in his arms and you spoke about everything from your childhood pets to your great hopes and dreams until you drifted off into the best sleep of your life.

–

Your first time with him inside you was in that cabin like he had wanted and it had been the most perfect few days of your life. He had made sure you felt safe and comfortable, insisting you gave the location to your friends and going over maps of the area with you, pointing out where you’d need to go to get signal to check in with them. He bought ingredients for all of your favourite meals and stopped for a snack run on the way to boot. He showed you his test results but stressed that he was putting no pressure on you either way and if you did want to have sex he would have condoms if you preferred. And after all that he made it clear that you did not have to have sex with him if you didn’t feel like it. Johnny would be happy to just hold you for a weekend. As soon as you arrived he taught you how to use the sat phone if there was an emergency. The voice on the other end was gruff but soothing somehow, safe sounding (that at least was something that never changed about Simon, despite not liking the man, you always felt safe with him).

You were ready to explode by the time he finally laid you in bed. He stroked deep and slow inside of you, steady and solid and torturous. You understood then the difference between fucking and making love. It was the first time anyone had ever shown you the latter.

He then proceeded to show you the former in great detail on every surface inside the cabin and on quite a few outside. Your pussy was battered and your clit bruised in the most delicious ways. Your throat was raw from screaming and from being fucked. After a lifetime of swearing up and down it was never something you were interested in, you wound up practically begging for his cock in your ass because there was not one part of you that you did not want dripping with him. And of course he was only too happy to make sure you understood everything he would do to prep you by letting you do it to him first. You couldn’t fucking sit down for a full day after he had indeed spanked you red raw for the teasing you had done on that 3rd date.

A week later you met his family, the week after that his brothers in arms. And then he was gone and you were so worried about him that you constantly felt nauseous. It took years for you to be able to settle when he was deployed, to not spend the whole time imagining him not coming home to you. Because by that time that was what you had built together, a home.

You and Kyle became friends throughout the years. You really did like him, he was easy going and would laugh and let you bitch about Simon whenever you wanted. Captain Price came to feel like an older brother. He was there whenever you needed him, whether it be a car breakdown or because you were in a panic about a handsy coworker (poor guy had broken both hands in an accident the next weekend). And Simon? Well not too much changed there, you dealt with each other when you had to and were it not for your shared love of Johnny you suspected you’d have killed one another.

At least until Las Almas.

–

You didn’t know how you were going to tell Johnny. In fact, you probably wouldn’t. What good would it do? It had sorted itself out. That was how you tried to think about it. Food poisoning had made the pill ineffective for a day, you had gotten pregnant unplanned and unwanted and had lost the baby before you’d even started showing. It didn’t matter that while Johnny was somewhere being a hero you had heard a tiny heartbeat at the doctors. You told yourself over and over again that you didn’t want it anyway. You tried to think about how awful everything felt all the time. The morning sickness, the fatigue, the mood swings.

It was probably just the shock of it, waking up wet from the blood and thinking you were dying. If your first thought had been that you’d rather you die and the baby lived then you tried not to dwell on that. She would have had Johnny’s eyes. He would have wanted a mohawk so he could match his daddy. You forced an image of you telling Johnny and him being upset and not wanting a baby. It was useless. You knew that man. You loved that man. And that man would have gently made sure you wanted to keep it before bursting into happy tears and kissing you senseless.

You couldn’t tell him. You couldn’t break his heart the way the last few months had broken yours. Maybe it was selfish, to want to keep this pain for yourself when you knew beyond a doubt that he’d be desperate to share it, to take as much as he could from you and turn it to gentle comfort the way he always did when you were hurting. But you wanted to be selfish over this.

It was a whole new pain when you answered the door and Ghost was standing there. Your knees went from under you and you collapsed with the weight of why he would be at your door. Why would he be here without your Johnny? It was the first time Simon Riley caught you.

You never spoke about the way he held you gently and told you that Johnny was ok, he was alive but injured. He made you laugh through your tears and snot by telling you what a bad patient Johnny was being, how he was about ready to beat up every medic on base to get back to you because “I dinnae need fucking morphine I need tae eat my bird’s pussy”. His Scottish accent on that impersonation was truly dreadful.

Simon never thought he would find himself comforting you. He didn’t like you, he never had. Johnny had never been so serious about anyone and it drove him nuts that you made him so happy. Happiness like that was an easy thing to ruin and you could ruin it if you wanted, that scared the shit out of him. It was even scarier when Johnny had shown him the ring he was planning to offer you.

He never told Johnny how you had broke in his arms that night. How you had told him about the miscarriage in the dark, bled your pain all over him and let it sink into his skin. He had taken it gladly. In the light of the morning you went back to your dislike of one another, but something had changed in the dark.

–

You never did tell Johnny. You and Simon settled then on some sort of begrudging respect for one another. You still argued and bit at each other, but with the knowledge that now you would be part of one another's lives forever through Johnny given that only a few days after he came home he had slid a ring onto your finger.

Frankly you were fucking terrified when you came off of the pill. The only thing that got you through it was, unbelievably, Simon mumbling to you in the pub over a game of pool that you were going to be good parents. Of course Johnny had told him you were trying, but you found you didn’t really mind as you grumbled back an awkward thank you.

You could have strangled Johnny for having such strong fucking swimmers. You hadn't expected to get pregnant almost as soon as you were off birth control and it meant your wedding dress had to be altered to account for the small bump there. The bump he could not keep his hands off. Honestly the man was already insatiable, but fuck he loved you pregnant. He was already talking about more kids and you hadn’t even had the first one, he fucked you and groaned about wanting you pregnant all the time.

Your husband, something you thought you’d never get sick of saying, drove you mad once again in the late stages. You were hornier than ever and he was determined to treat you like you were made of glass all of a sudden. He certainly still gave you as many orgasms as you demanded, but gone was any rough and feral fucking. You loved making love with Johnny, but fuck if you didn’t miss the fucking.

You’d never tell Simon it had been your suggestion, not under pain of death. Neither of you had been attached to any name in particular, but you knew how much Johnny loved his Lieutenant. He was his best friend and they owed one another their lives several times over. There was a good chance that you owed him your life. Your husband had kissed you with so much love when you had asked if he’d like to call your son Joseph and after talking about it late into the night you had agreed that the little human inside you was your wee Joey.

A wee fucking bruiser is what he was, coming into the world kicking and screaming. Ten perfect fingers and ten perfect toes. You joked that he must have screamed so loud he had damaged his own ears when he was referred to the audiology clinic after a second newborn hearing test. They stressed that you shouldn’t worry over it, but you hadn’t been anyway. Joseph was the strongest most wonderful thing you had ever seen, whatever came of it he had two parents who were going to make sure it never made his life anything less than a grand happy adventure.

Johnny had hated leaving him. Price had hated to ask it, had sent you enough flowers to start your own florist in apology. You understood though, your husband was off saving the world after all. Your heart was in your throat when he kissed Joey’s head and then kissed you soundly. Something felt off with him. The kiss felt different somehow, mournful. Maybe it was just a trick of your memory, hindsight tainting what you hadn’t known was the last time you would see your husband.

–

Simon Riley caught you a second time. John MacTavish was dead.

#mhairiwrites #cod #fanfic #soap x reader #ghost x reader #john mactavish x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x john mactavish #eventual happy ending #my guys I wrote this in one go this evening so have mercy on my soul #enjoy all the sprinklings of trauma in here that are surprise tools that will help us with angst later

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bluebeary-jay · 1 year ago

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Playing pretend

Jack "Whiskey" Daniels x f!Reader

Summary: a simple mission turns out to be quite a challenge when you find out that you're partnered with Jack Daniels. oh, and that you have to pretend to be in love with each other. easy? not at all.

Tags: fake dating lets gooo!! idiots in love, fluff, some steamier scenes later on, reader is a tease and Jack is a disaster. equals mutual dumbassery

Warnings: jealousy, not smut but some steam for sure, a few ridiculous southern sayings i had way too much fun coming up with

Word count: 5.5K

A/N: i don't really know why i chose jack for this prompt but i think it fits nicely. @pedrostories i know i'm late but i wanted to do this for you ❤️ congrats again!! and for all the other lovely people who stick around, i hope you like this and happy reading!! 💕 comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated and i love you all so much for the constant support 💗

This was supposed to be a delicate type of operation, which is why you were the first choice for the mission. It wasn’t a dig of any kind – everyone just knew you were good at handling tense situations and skilled at staying out of sight, not to mention your gift for making people trust you easily. Everything that was needed for this particular task.

Who wasn’t good at blending in, however, was Agent Whiskey. Which is why you were more than a little surprised when it turned out he’ll be your partner for the mission.

“I know he’s not exactly a subtle sort,” said Champ when you brought it up. “But we do need to get the target’s attention and… well, we can count on him when it comes to that. Besides, who knows,” he sent you a half-smile, though he seemed unsure of his own words, somehow, “maybe you two will balance yourself out. Maybe it’ll be good for you.”

So that’s how it happened. That’s how you got stuck with Jack Daniels.

It wasn’t that you disliked Jack. He was a handful, yes, an arrogant asshole and a show-off, but he also could make you laugh. He was very skilled at fighting and you knew you could count on him if things went south. And, though you would never admit it, he wasn’t the worst to look at.

The main problem was the combination of his stupid cockiness on this particular mission.

Because you had to pretend to be in love.

“C’mon, sunshine, it won’t be that bad.”

“Maybe for your dumb ass,” you murmured in response while walking to the table, squeezing Jack’s arm tightly and subtly looking around the hall. “I swear, Whiskey, if you try something…”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” The man you were supposed to pretend to be dating leaned in, and your whole body tensed. “I’ll be a perfect gentleman, sweet pea.”

“I doubt it.”

“...For the remainder of the mission.”

“There you go.”

In his usual ‘Jack Daniels’ fashion, he started pushing your buttons to the extreme even before your jet plane landed, and you had to close your eyes and count from ten to zero several times already, ordering yourself to calm down. Sometimes, you had to admit, his confidence and cheekiness were quite endearing, making you think about that frustratingly beautiful face of his late at night, but this time he was treading on very thin ice and you didn’t feel like being understanding.

You used to pride yourself in knowing exactly how to handle him. Jack was the biggest tease and a diva, and as long as you balanced the thin line between not encouraging his antics and giving him just enough attention, he became as gentle as a lamb in your presence. But this… this stupid, stupid mission…

“Would you like a cupcake, my lovely tater tot?” Whiskey’s voice jolted you out of your thoughts, and you had to stop the grimace on your face at the over-the-top nickname and his smug smirk. Instead, you just smiled sweetly.

“Only if you have some, my little meatball,” you answered through gritted teeth, but his infuriating smile only grew. Great.

The problem wasn’t even Jack. It was you, and that was what was driving you crazy.

You used to have a small, tiny crush on the older agent, but you liked to think it was long gone, water under the bridge and all that crap. He was Jack Daniels, for heaven’s sake – he’d never be interested in someone as guarded and shy as you, and though it took you a few months to realize that his ‘flirting’ was actually how he talked with every woman, you made your peace with it.

But being here with him, watching him acting as if he loves you, as if you hung the moon and stars in the sky… Touching you as if you’re the most precious thing in the entire world, trying to be as close to you as possible (though still respecting your boundaries, just like he promised)... It was tearing you apart.

And you hated feeling so out of control of your own emotions.

“You okay?” Jack murmured after a couple more minutes of silence, doffing his hat to someone walking by. “You’re unusually quiet.”

You were sitting on his lap all stiff, trying to remember how to breathe, but it wasn’t easy with his hand on your thigh. His touch was soothing, as if he suspected how uncomfortable all of it was for you and wanted to help you relax, but for all you knew, he could be just looking for an excuse to feel you up.

“M’fine,” you answered, trying to ignore your closeness. “I can just sit next to you, y’know.”

“Never hurts to act a bit over-the-top,” he said, and then eyed you warily. “You’d better not be sayin’ that ‘cause of these women’s talks about ‘bein’ too heavy’. I’ll have you know, cutie pie, that these thighs are meant for a wilder rodeo than holdin’ a pretty little thing like you perched on ‘em.”

You ignored his frivolous remark. Jack waited a couple of seconds before he sighed and slowly leaned in, probably wanting it to seem like he was kissing your neck. But instead of his lips, you felt his hot breath on your skin, making you shiver.

“You look like a gazelle in a lion den, sugar,” he whispered worriedly, taking his eyes off of you to look around inconspicuously. “If anyone’s to believe that we’re a couple of lovebirds, you gotta stop acting like I’m holdin’ you hostage.”

“Easy for you to say.” You had to stop yourself from smacking his hand away from your leg. “You’re probably upset the mission doesn’t let you flirt with any of those women,” you said to draw the attention from your own emotions, but Whiskey just laughed quietly.

“Who said I’d want to? I have the most beautiful gal right here on my lap.” He sent you a wink. “Though she could be more handsy for ol’ Jack’s standards.”

You shook your head disapprovingly, but that didn’t discourage him, especially when he noticed a small smile on your face.

“I’m serious. Or as serious as you’re comfortable with me to be.” He smirked, the bastard, and glanced at you with his eyes half-lidded. “So what will it be, sugar? You have to do your part, too, no?”

As much as you hated to admit it, he was right. Ever since you got here, you were wary, avoiding his touch and teasing more often than not, while he didn’t have any problem with acting as if he was interested in you. You presumed it was nothing for him – he’d do a good job with any woman on his arm, but for you it was almost too painful to attempt.

But if you didn’t want to blow your cover, you had to get over yourself and your stupid heart.

“My part?” you repeated in a whisper, steeling yourself and lifting your hand to his face. Jack froze in place, his eyes wide when you hummed and stroked his cheek with your thumb. “How’s this for acting all lovesick, cowboy?”

“Uhm…” he cleared his throat. There was a hint of surprise and enjoyment in his eyes, but though he tried to hide it behind his usual mask of arrogance, you could also see that he was almost… nervous. “S’better, sunshine. You’d have m– anyone fooled.” You squinted, and then, as if the spell was broken, all the awkwardness disappeared from Jack’s face, and he took your chin in-between his thumb and forefinger, bringing you an inch closer. “Though you could still learn a thin’ or two from your dashin’ lover.”

“Watch what you’re doing, Jack.”

“Oh, c’mon, I don’t mean anythin’ bad.” His hand squeezed your thigh just a little, making you tense. “Just a bit of harmless fun. Our target isn’t even here yet.”

“Talk quieter,” you hissed, but he just chuckled.

“Wanna shut me up, sugar?”

His smile was positively shit-eating, and you wanted nothing more than to wipe it off his face. Jack always knew how much to push and prod at your usually composed self, all to rile you up just the right amount. Ginger told you several times that he hopes for your reaction and that’s why he’s doing it, but it didn’t change the fact that sometimes he was pissing you off so much that letting him win would be considered a dishonor.

You squared your shoulders and just as you predicted, Whiskey’s eyes strayed to your collarbone before snapping right back. You raised an eyebrow and leaned in closer, closer, closer… until you heard him inhale sharply.

Your chests were brushing against each other with every deep breath you took, but you didn’t pull back.

Harmless fun, he said?

Your fingers traveled up to the collar of his shirt, fixing it a little, and then slid down his chest. His heart was pounding under your palm, and finding this out brought you a lot of satisfaction, so you took it to the next level and whispered sweetly:

“Please shut up, or I’ll act out a messy breakup and you will have to explain yourself to Champ.”

Before you fully grasped what you were doing, your teeth grazed his earlobe gently, eliciting a low groan out of the agent. His arm around your waist tightened, and that’s what finally brought you back to reality.

In an instant you pulled away from each other. Your neck was hot with embarrassment at your sudden boldness, but at least you achieved your goal – Jack looked completely stunned and, for once, speechless.

Both of you stared at each other for a few moments before Jack mustered a tight smile and nodded.

“Gotta say, uh…” Your eyes met briefly again, and he swallowed heavily, all his bravado leaving him. “Actually, ‘scuse me for a sec.”

Not paying attention to your bewildered expression, he stood up, almost causing you to fall to the floor. His name died on your lips when he fixed his tie and turned around, heading to the restrooms.

It was so unlike him to act this way, that you started to worry you crossed some boundary even someone like agent Whiskey didn’t dare to approach.

You behaved unexpectedly, yes, but was it a reason enough for him to leave like that?

“Looks like my date isn’t the only one who bailed.”

With the strange voice came a man you didn’t recognize, but who sat down right next to you with way too much confidence for your liking. It took you a second to realize he was talking about Jack, and you summoned a small smile.

“Oh, no, no. He just went to the restroom.” You waved your hand in the general direction. “He didn’t leave leave.”

“Then perhaps you won’t mind me keeping you company?” The man – tall, blonde and in a damn expensive suit – offered his hand for you to shake. “My name’s Jacob.”

Jacob? Was it the same Jacob that supposedly planned to seal some dark deal during the reception tomorrow?

You opened your mouth, but before you could ask about his last name – or offer him yours, for that matter – he continued. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before, sweetheart. Are you a friend of someone here?”

“Lillian’s old friend, actually.” That was the name of the maid of honor, the same one who had some connections with Champ and notified him about this whole business. “But I came a day before to see the city with my boyfriend.”

“Your boyfriend…” He nodded to the side with his eyebrows raised. “The Southern Sam?”

“That’s funny, cause his name actually is Sam,” you attempted to make a joke for Jacob to lower his guard, which seemed to have worked.

“And how long have you been together?”

Was that an interview? “Almost two years, why?”

“I’m asking ‘cause I saw the cowboy chatting with some ladies at the bar before.” He gave you a fake sympathetic look. “And you were nowhere to be seen.”

You knew about it, of course – Jack tried to get some information out of the singles gossiping at the minibar, but other than an offer for a ‘time of his life’, he couldn’t drag anything useful out of them. But still, Jacob was clearly looking for a reason to make you doubt your boyfriend’s intentions, so you went with it.

“What?” You changed your voice to be softer, and looked over your shoulder. “Oh… well, I’m sure it was nothing.”

“Sorry to say, babydoll, but it didn’t seem like it.”

Jacob shifted closer, now making you really uncomfortable, but you were careful not to let it show. He placed his hand on your thigh and draped the other arm over the back of your chair, sending you a flirtatious smile.

“But just to let you know, if, let’s say… things don’t work out with your cowboy, I have a beautiful mansion not far from here that I’d love to show you. There’s some things I have to take care of tomorrow, but after that…”

He trailed off, and his eyes suddenly strayed above your shoulder. You felt another, stronger arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer, and when you lifted your gaze, you were met with Jack’s brown eyes, full of well-hidden anger.

“Hi there, buttercup. Who’s your new friend?”

Though his tone sounded friendly, you knew it was anything but. You smiled tightly and turned to him.

“Sam, this is Jacob,” you said, giving the former a pointed look to let him know you’re in the middle of handling the latter. But the older agent seemingly didn’t take the hint and narrowed his eyes at their target. “We were just getting to know each other.”

“Well, hate to interrupt your chat, but I’ve got somethin’ I wanted to show ya, darlin’.”

Your eyes popped when you heard him, not believing that Jack was really sabotaging your work like that. But he didn’t back down, keeping his stare cold and hard.

“I think I’ll stay here,” you answered dryly. “We can talk later.”

“We’re talkin’ now,” he doubled down, tightening his hold on your waist. You glared at him angrily but before you could say something you’d regret, Jacob butted in.

“Maybe I should take my leave for now,” he said with a charming smile and winked in your direction. “I’ll see you later, doll.”

You watched in frustration as he walked away, and then faced Jack with barely concealed anger, but he didn’t even look your way.

“Found the conference hall,”he just murmured before standing up. “Follow me.”

An irritated huff was the only answer he received. You did as he asked, however, deciding to give him a piece of your mind in a more secluded location.

“So I think this is the place,” Jack said, stepping slowly around the table. He guided you through a closed off section of the building where you definitely shouldn’t be, stopping in a big, though quite narrow, room. “Had to break down the lock at the door, a pretty sturdy one. I reckon we plant the bug under one of the chairs and maybe somewhere on the other side, but I wanted to get a second opinion–”

“Aren’t we gonna talk about what happened there?” you interrupted him, crossing your arms over your chest. Whiskey paused and looked at you with his brow raised.

“What happened where?”

“With Jacob. What the fuck was that about, Jack?”

“You really wanna talk about this now?” he asked in response, but your unwavering stare spoke for itself, and he threw his arms in the air. ”Fine. Damn me for lookin’ out for ya.”

“He was eating out of my hand, and you blew it!” you accused him, which made him clench his jaw.

“If you didn’t notice, he was gettin’ way too close an’ personal–”

“He’s our target, Jack! The mission is to get close to him.”

Whiskey huffed and turned around, shaking his head. He adjusted his hat, angling it in a way so you couldn’t see his eyes anymore. “Look, sugar, I know the mission’s important and all that jackal’s shit, but we– you don’t need to let the bastard feel ya up to get the information outta him.”

“Is that what’s bothering you?” you cocked your eyebrow, not believing him. “It’s my job, Whiskey.”

“Still–”

“And besides, it’s none of your business! What if I don’t mind it?”

He did look at you in that moment, with a gaze so cool and dark that it caused your confidence and resolve to waver. His face, so harsh in its beauty, looked like it was carved out of a block of marble as he slowly strode forward, walking around the long table. Not for one second he took his brown eyes off of you, and you had to resist the urge to hold your breath.

Jack was rarely someone who could be considered ‘intimidating’. Goofy, arrogant, smartmouth – sure. But not intimidating.

But agent Whiskey… Agent Whiskey was a different story altogether.

“S’that so?” he murmured lowly, making your insides tighten at the timbre of his voice. “I didn’t realize my girlfriend is the sort to throw herself into the arms of the first man she meets.”

“Don’t forget yourself,” you scoffed, done with his theatrics. “We’re not together.”

“Jacob thinks so,” he shot back, stepping into your personal space and – to your irritation – forcing you to take a step back. “And now he’ll think I’m neglectin’ a gem like you.”

“So that’s what it’s about!” A short, dry laugh fell from your lips, and you rolled your eyes. “It’s all about Jack Daniels’ precious, fragile pride that some stranger will think you’re not the sex god and womanizer you think you are.”

“I’ve no clue what you’re blabberin’ ‘bout, pumpkin.” That bastard dared to smirk, his chest colliding with yours when you refused to move away from him again. “Sam Brooks is a very faithful and attentive boyfriend.”

“Oh, screw you.”

“And…” he continued, ignoring you. “He doesn’t wanna see any chowderhead’s hands on his girl. Mission or no mission.”

“You’re forgetting yourself,” you shot back with a pang of both irritation and electricity from the way he said ‘his girl’. “This is an act and… and besides, who do you think you are to be telling me that?!” His expression didn’t change and it made the flames of your rage burst higher. “It’s you who has a reputation of jumping at every chance to fuck any female target–!”

The man in front of you moved abruptly, quickly as a whip he was so proficient with, and though your training prepared you for such situations, you still didn’t manage to block his palm from covering your mouth. His head was turned to the side, but returned to its previous position when you smacked his hand away with an angry huff and pushed him strongly.

“What is wrong with you?!”

“Shh!”

“Don’t shush me, asshole! You started it, so now–”

“For cryin’ out loud, shut it!” he hissed, lifting his hand to signal you to be quiet. He tilted his head again and held his breath, waiting. And then you heard it.

Someone was in the corridor, from the sound of it opening and closing the doors to every room one at the time.

You and Jack looked at each other.

“We need to get outta here, sunshine.”

You had to save your argument for later, but the quick search soon showed that the door you came through was the only exit route. There were no windows in the room – a sought-after thing when you don’t want anyone to spy on your shady deals, you supposed – or even any nooks and crannies one could hide in. You were screwed.

“Fuck!” Jack hissed, quietly going back to you from searching around the conference room. “We’re trapped like a pair of mice under the cat’s tail!”

The echo of footsteps was getting louder, more frantic, and you raked your brain about what to do to appear the least suspicious if someone were to nail you in the area you absolutely should not be.

Beside you, Jack sighed heavily, closing his eyes for a moment, before quickly shrugging his jacket off. Then he unbuttoned two of his shirt’s buttons and walked up to you, forcing you to draw back until your back hit the wall behind you.

“What the hell are you–”

“You’re gonna hate me even more, and m’really sorry,” he cut you off hurriedly and apologetically. You shot him a furious, questioning look, which turned to total confusion when he took off his hat and placed it on your head, ruffling his own hair. “Just go with it, sugar.”

The door on the other side of the room creaked, but you didn’t have a chance to turn your head because right in that moment Jack crashed his lips to yours, kissing you with such passion that it stole the breath away from your lungs. It took you a few seconds to get over your surprise, but you quickly understood what his plan was.

It was wrong and you could still come up with another way to distract whoever was at the door, but if you were honest… you didn't want to.

With the first fiery caress of Jack Daniel’s lips, it became clear to you that his touch was extremely addicting, and as improper as it was, you were already starving for more. It briefly crossed your mind to push him away, because that is not how you imagined this evening to go, but… you had to admit, this was a good idea for a distraction.

And probably your only chance to kiss this handsome, maddening cowboy.

So you reciprocated, your hands grabbing him by his clothes roughly, and poured into the kiss all the longing and feelings you had for your fellow agent, and which you tried to contain all evening. You let it all out.

Jack didn’t waste any time, and the second you returned the kiss, he grabbed the back of your thighs and lifted you up, pressing you harder against the wall and forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist. The moan you let out was swallowed by his mouth, and he continued to kiss and caress you like a man starved, like he planned to devour you whole.

And maybe it was the alcohol you consumed, or maybe just that infatuation you never fully suppressed, but you didn’t fight your own desire to be as close to him as possible. You used to fantasize about wiping that stupid smirk off Jack’s face by stealing the breath out of him, but you never imagined how wonderful it’d feel.

God, the noises he was making when you tugged on his hair… the feeling of his hands on your bare thighs… and his mouth. On your lips, on your neck and collarbone, kissing every inch of your skin like there’s no tomorrow… Nothing could ever prepare you for how much you wanted him to keep going, to–

You pretty much forgot the reason this make-out session even started, and your heart almost jumped out of your chest when you heard someone clearing their throat pointedly.

Jack’s lips left yours in an instant and you had to stop yourself from pulling him back by the material of his shirt, your head still dizzy from what just happened. Instead you turned to the door, your nerves dying down when you saw a young and clearly uncomfortable man.

“Uhm, apologies,” he spoke up with a nervous smile. “Have any of you seen two little girls running around?”

He sounded sincere, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t calm down your pounding heart. Jack was still holding you up and for a second you worried that he’s going to drop you, but he supported your weight without breaking a sweat.

“No, buddy. Sorry,” your partner answered, and the man nodded.

“Alright… It’s just, they’re wrapping up the party for today, but my daughters ran off somewhere.” His eyes shifted to you and your bare thighs, the material of your dress rolled up where Jack had his hands on you. Before you could become embarrassed, the lost dad coughed again. “Uhm, the staff asked everyone to leave in the next half an hour, so… just so you know. Bye.”

The door quickly shut behind him, slamming a little too loudly in the sudden silence. The shame at being caught – and at your own eagerness to what Jack did – only now came crashing down on you. You didn’t want to face him, but knew it was inevitable.

Jack’s eyes were already on you, with his pupils blown wide. His expression showed the same desire as the one scorching your insides, the same unwillingness to pull away from you, but the special moment you shared was long gone. After ten seconds of silence, he cleared his throat and gently set you down. Your arms and chest felt cold without his body pressed against yours.

Whiskey sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes. You slowly took his hat off your head, holding it in front of you awkwardly, and waited for him to speak.

And finally, Jack hung his head low and cursed under his breath. You watched in confusion as he turned to you, stuck his cheek forward and closed his eyes.

“Smack me.”

That was not what you expected him to say. “...what?”

“Smack me,” he repeated with confident readiness, not moving an inch. “I deserve it.”

“No,” you said, totally confused. “I’m not gonna hit you. You did it… only so we wouldn’t get caught…” Jack’s shoulders slumped, making you hesitate. “...right?”

“It’s not just that,” he spoke up quietly, opening his eyes but not looking at you. “If you knew, sugar… the things I did to–”

He let out a dry laugh, shaking his head at the words coming out of his mouth, but the sound wasn’t joyous at all. He ran his hand down his face, and you couldn’t help but be drawn to the motion of his thumb wiping the edge of his bottom lip.

“You were s’pposed to be paired with Tequila.”

This one sentence, which seemingly came out of nowhere, just made you even more confused. “Jack, I don’t underst–”

“I asked to go on this mission with you,” he repeated louder, looking almost irritated that he had to explain it to you. “Practically begged, like a damn fool. Tequila was s’pposed to be your partner, but I couldn’t… That is, didn’t want to…”

Whiskey let out another breathless chuckle, running his fingers through his dark hair. “I’m gonna sound like the most selfish asshole, though that’s probably not far from whatcha actually think of me…”

“I don’t understand a word you’re saying.” You went around him to look him solemnly in the eyes, but he avoided your gaze. “Just tell me, what do you mean by all that?”

“Look, darlin’, I’ve no clue what I wanted to achieve,” he spat with annoyance, as if it was your fault he wasn’t making any sense. “I just fuckin’ knew I didn’t want to see Tequila or any other agent act all lovey-dovey with ya, hold your hand and maybe…” he choked up suddenly, his gaze softening, “...maybe kiss you.”

Your eyes were wide and your mind struggled to comprehend what all of it meant, but Jack didn’t even give you a second to gather your thoughts.

“To be clear, I didn’t plan on that.” He gestured towards the wall against which you were pressed just a few minutes ago, and you understood he’s talking about the unexpected kiss. “I might be a dickhead, but it wasn’t all some grand scheme to suck faces with ya. I wasn’t thinkin’ in that moment.”

Oh.

Why did his last words hurt you more than anything else he said? Your thoughts kept circling back to the passionate kiss you two shared, and it didn’t seem to you like Jack was acting at that moment. Or just achieving a goal he pursued. It felt like he lost control. Just like you did.

But you knew now that you didn’t hate it. What about him, though?

“It wasn’t?” you asked after a few seconds of silence. Jack furrowed his brows, to which you clarified: “A grand scheme to get into my pants. It… wasn’t?”

“Fuck. No, f’course not.” The sigh that escaped him was so heavy with guilt and suffering, you could almost feel it in the air between you both. “It must be obvious t’ya that I find you attractive, sugar, and… I love talkin’ with ya. You’re sharp, funny, pretty as a peach, and I really… really wanted to do it right this time. Show myself from a better side, but…” He took a deep breath, then exhaled unevenly. “I blew it.”

He locked eyes with you, and smiled lopsidedly, but there were no emotions in the gesture.

“So I reckon y’know now why I deserve this smack. Probably not just one, but…” He closed his eyes and spread his arms wide. “C’mon, sweetheart. Bet it’ll feel better for both of us.”

You realized that, yes, Jack was really ready for you to slap him – because that, according to himself, was what he deserved. And maybe on another day, you’d even considered it. But after what you’ve been through tonight and after accepting that the feelings you harbored for the older agent never truly disappeared, you didn’t want to do that. You just needed to kiss him again.

So that’s what you did.

It wasn’t a confident display of affection. More like a shy, light brush of your lips against his, which almost immediately came to a halt when Jack pulled away, looking at you with wide, shocked eyes.

It must’ve been evident on your face, though, that you were equally – if not even more – terrified than him. You gulped and took a step back, but he caught your wrist before that could happen. His eyes were still unsure, but so bright and hopeful, it gave you a boost of confidence you desperately needed.

Jack liked you, you reminded yourself as you went in for a second kiss, which this time he eagerly reciprocated and melted into. He was jealous, you thought as your tongues naturally met and entwined.

He wanted you.

When you parted, breathless from adrenaline, and your lips swollen from the intensity of his kisses, his eyes stayed closed. You waited for any sign of regret on his face, but saw none, only raw wonder.

“I think you smacked me too hard,” he murmured, his eyes darting behind his closed eyelids in a weirdly adorable way. “M’pretty sure I’m hallucinatin’.”

“You’re such a dumbass,” you chuckled while shaking your head, and Jack snorted. “Now open your eyes and look at me.”

He obeyed, and a big grin spread on his face the second he laid his eyes on you. He drank in your bright smile and happy expression, and you let him – that is, for only a moment before you jabbed him in the ribs with your finger, causing him to grunt in pain.

“I like you, too, cowboy. Against all common sense.”

“Thank god for the bats in your belfry, then.” You scowled and scrunched your nose in a fake offense, but he just laughed. Then, very tenderly, he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, his eyes warm and soft like never before. “You’re cute as a speckled pup, you know that?”

“I think you’re the lovesick puppy here.”

“Technicalities,” Jack murmured before leaning down to claim your mouth in a gentle kiss. You’ve never thought he could be so tender, and immediately longed for more of this side of him – but too soon, he pulled away, gracing you with that smirk of his you always found so irresistible. “I was thinkin’...”

“That would be the first.” Jack shot you a warning glance at that, and you yelped when he smacked your butt lightly. “You’re so fucking lucky I like you.”

“And I can’t fuckin’ wait to shut you up,” he whispered, making you giggle at the clear fondness in his tone. “As I was sayin’, I think we have a king-size bed waiting for us in our shared room.” Your face split into a wide smile, and Jack shrugged nonchalantly. “All to keep up appearances, of course.”

You tugged forcefully on his shirt and claimed his lips again, but in a deeper, more heated kiss this time. A sound similar to a growl escaped Jack’s chest, and one of his hands found its place in your hair while the other one squeezed your butt lightly. You couldn’t help but giggle into his mouth, which caused a similar smile to spread across his face.

“We wouldn’t want anyone to suspect we’re just playing pretend, right?”

His response was immediate.

“Of course not, sugar.”

#pedrostories1k #jack daniels #agent whiskey #agent whiskey x reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #jack daniels x reader #kingsmen golden circle #pedro pascal fic

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yan-twst · 4 years ago

Note

Hello. I hope you're having a good day. Would it be alright if you do the alphabet thing with Jade Leech please? It's fine if you don't want to though.

once again, long post so it goes under the cut! warnings for mentions of drowning in this one

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Jade plays his gentleman act quite carefully and meticulously. In public (before isolating his darling), he'd limit himself to kisses to the back of their hand or putting his arm around their shoulder. He likes to still tease with his "gentelmanly" act behind closed door, but the way he speaks doesn't match the voracity which he has when he kisses his darling.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

He won't eliminate people unless it's strictly needed- if his darling's friends and family don't come poking their noses into his relationship, he won't feel the need to track them down. However, nosey people will mysteriously dissapear- it's not like people search underwater caves for bodies, you know?

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

He would highly preffer his darling to give in to his advances and love already, but he does reckon half the fun of love is getting there. He'd only tease and be mean if his darling was snarky- it's probably infuriating for them to be chained down and unable to escape while Jade talks down on them with his usual calm smile.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

No way, he's a gentleman! ... well, he is one as long as people are looking, anyways. While he certainly wouldn't have his way with an unwilling darling, he doesn't see any problem with coersion or threats to make his darling more willing to accept his advances. Likewise, he won't ask for permission for things he considers "minor", like hugging, kisses to the neck, and such.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

He won't entirely drop all his pretenses and suddenly lay bare for his darling- that's just not who he is. He will speak his mind from time to time, and if his darling is keen they might pick up on certain insecurities of his. He's absolutely not expecting his darling to care about his emotions- seeing as he's abducted them and has given them no choice but to love him- but if they did, it would certainly make him open up more often.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

He'd think his darling is just being plain foolish. He's not Floyd, sure, but he does have his strenght, you know? Besides, his darling should know that he has Azul and his twin on his side: a single human couldn't do much against the trio. He'd scold them like if they were a child, and get irked whenever they continue trying. His darling should certainly stop stretching his parience!

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

It is and it isn't at the same time. He does find some enjoyment from watching his darling struggle helplessly, and it is particularly delicious to see them exhaust themselves to the point they just simply give in to his affections- but at the same time, he does want to build a future one day. He'd very much love it if his darling mellowed down enough so he could go hiking with them without having to be looking out for escape attempts.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

The most patient people snap in the ugliest ways, and he's no exception. If his darling tried to squash all his dreams for the future, or constantly talked about other people to try and purposely make him jealous, he'd drop all pretenses of being a civilized gentleman. He'd have no qualms holding his darling underwater until they're in the brink of drowning, then letting them back up- only to push them down again. It's torture, but he'll keep going until they either pass out, or he's satisfied with his work.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

He can't decide if he wants to turn his darling into a mermaid and return to the coral sea, or find a little cottage in the mountains. Ideally, he'd like both- perhaps living the winters in land (since his darling wouldnt be used to the frigid underwater temperatures) and the summers in the ocean. He knows he and his darling cannot have biological children- after all, his body is just not built to mate with humans, regardless of if his darling can even bear children or not- but he would perhaps think of taking one in, just to complete his little family.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

He does get jealous quite often, but he mostly just deals with it in silence. He knows it's inevitable people will talk about his darling or mention missing them, and that killing or maiming everyone who does this would be insane. Again, he'll only hurt people who stick their nose into his business- and people who express too much interest in his darling.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Most of what he knows of human courtships comes from books and legends, so he'll try very hard to be his darling's very own fairtytale lover. He doesn't see why his obsessive tendencies and the gentle love describes in most folk tales can't be combined- isn't it the greatest expression of love to keep his darling just for himself? He'll be very warm and caring as long as his darling behaves properly.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Again, all his knowledge on human courting comes from books and myths, so he begins his aproaches in a very fairytale like fashion. In the beginning, he's a picture perfect gentleman: bringing flowers, walking his darling home, candlelit dinners in the lounge- the works. It's not until his obsession starts growing that he becomes more and more possesive.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Some people definitely suspect his gentleman act is just a fake mask, but he does want to behave nicely from time to time. He definitely still acts like a gentleman some of the times with his darling- specifically when they're not being troublesome. He does however, have a bit of a darker side; he'll take some sick pleasure in watching his darling squirm and cry for help- but he does try to not show that too much.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

He isn't big on hitting or casting painful spells- once the adrenaline wears down and he sees what he did, he always feels sick to his stomach. He preffers more classic, less direct methods: complete and utter isolation until his darling is begging for him, taking away all the entertainment his darling has, and more extreme methods like waterboarding.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

First of all, he doesn't want them going out. If it's absolutely necessary, he'll make sure they're dressed in baggy, inconspicuous clothing so nobody takes notice of them: and or course, he's there by their side the entire time. Second of all, he wants them to cut all communication with the outside world. It's better for them to forget their friends, after all- once they're taken to the Coral Sea, the chances of seeing them again are null.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

His darling is lucky he's such a patient man. He can take more tantrums, escape attempts, screams and tears than most- it's almost infuriating how calm he can remain most of the time.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

It's an easy question- he wouldn't recover. His darling is one of the few people he considered himself to be truly close with, and losing them would deal a huge blow to him. It'd get bad enough that even trying to act like his usual self would be impossible- but he'd also vehemently refuse to speak of his sadness with anyone.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

No, and no. He thinks his darling should be flattered by how intense his love is; they just need to adapt. Logically he knows humans don't like being caged up, but he's willing to make his darling lose that liberty so he can properly take care of them and love them.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

He has no clue why he's fallen in love so deeply and in such a dark way, it just happened. This isn't the first time he's taken a romantic interest in someone, but never before had he felt such an obsession with the object of his desires, nor had he felt so many twisted impulses towards them. He has no idea what brought on this change: perhaps this is how true love feels like?

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

It's tiring and he claims he doesn't like it, but... Truthfully he does get some twisted pleasure from watching his darling go through these dark periods. Just knowing their struggle is so hopeless, and that no matter what he's the only one they have- especially since he knows once his darling is exhausted of crying, they won't even complain if he takes them into his arms.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Classic yanderes are known to act "unhinged" or show a dark and violent side to their darling- Jade tries not to. He wants to be a good lover and have his darling run to him for safety and care (even if those emotions are... Fake, to an extent), so he'll work hard to make his darling feel dependant on him.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

If his darling managed to fool him into thinking they'd settled down, accepted their fate and loved him, he would start letting down his guard just a bit. Not enough for them to escape right away; they'd need for Jade to decide they're calm and docile enough to take out on a hike or a date- and once out, there'll be a small chance his darling will be able to dash away and seek help. They better find someone strong or an authority as fast as they can once they run- otherwise the second Jade catches up, he'll tear apart whoever tried to help his darling.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

He desperately tries not to unless it's absolutely needed. He wants his darling to see him as a loving figure- but punishments are a necessity sometimes...

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

To him, his darling is the most beautiful person alive. He wants his darling to see themselves as he sees them; a beautiful, fragile and captivating person. He'll always make sure to remember them of all of these facts. If he gets his hands on a spell to turn his darling into a mermaid, he'd be quick to try and make them feel comfortable in their new form. He just loves his darling and wants to make sure they know!

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

He lasts about a couple of months in love before confessing, then a good period of "normal" dating. He wanted to make sure everything was perfect- he didn't want to give in to his ugly impulses right away, but he knew he'd have to, eventually.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

No, and he'd be careful not to. He loves his darling as they are- he just wants them to be more obedient to him and love him, not break them entirely. He would take great care to not end up crushing his darling's soul, trying his best to slowly acclimate them to their new life as his lover.

#twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst #jade leech

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simkaswriting · 5 years ago

Text

Yoga-(Steve Rogers)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: a lot of thirst(not NSFW), swearing, a shirtless and sweaty Steve :)))

Summary: Natasha helps you with yoga whilst a shirtless Steve boxes a few feet away from you. That puts an idea into her head.

A/N: This was just a fun little thing that popped into my head and I just needed to write it. Hope you guys enjoy, and remember to leave some feedback, I’d love to hear what you thought!

Agreeing to let Natasha, Black Widow herself, help me with yoga was a mistake from the beginning. First, she is the most flexible woman I have ever laid eyes on. Second, I’m really not all that flexible. And third, I didn’t expect for us to have any company. Especially not the shirtless God that is Steve Rogers boxing in the corner of the gym.

“Okay, now try and copy me. Don’t push yourself, but go as far as you dare.” Natasha places her forearms and head onto her mat, and slowly kicks off the ground. She quickly straightens out both her legs and back, so she’s just balancing on her forearms and head. It looks near enough impossible, yet she makes it seem effortless.

I copy her stance, and manage to hold the same pose as her for about five seconds before I topple over with a groan. It’s been weeks since we’ve started doing yoga together. And sure, I’ve made a lot of progress, but my balance is still way off.

“That was pretty good, let’s take a break. We’ve been at this for quite some time.” She chuckles and sits down on her mat. Her phone buzzes so she goes to check it out.

Speaking of checking things out, my eyes naturally travel to Steve.

It’s beyond me how I’ve managed to do any yoga at all with him in the room, looking as good as he currently looks. Shirtless and covered in sweat, occasionally grunting when he hits a bag particularly hard. It’s the best distraction in the world, and also the reason why I’ve not been able to concentrate at all today.

“Careful, you’ve got a little bit of drool going on there.” Natasha teases, her eyes playful, having noticed my not-so-subtle ogling.

I reluctantly look away from the Captain to glare at her.

“Very funny. Honestly, so hilarious. I’ll have you know I was checking out the lights, just making sure all are in good and working order.” My hand absentmindedly wipes at the corners of my mouth.

She laughs and shakes her head as she stands back up.

“Sure, the lights. Whatever helps you sleep at night. But really, I don’t blame you. He is a sight for sore eyes. Just not mine.”

I also stand up, ready to continue our session. If I ignore her teasing, it should ease up.

“Take a deep breath, and then we’re slowly going into the downward dog.”

I do as she says, place my feet slightly apart, and bend over. She comes to stand behind me and places her hand on my back to keep it straight, and holds it there. Believe it or not, it’s very difficult to keep a straight back in this position. Her other hand rests on my hip.

“Hey Steve!” She shouts over to him, and he stops his boxing, looking over to us. Immediately, I feel heat rush to my cheeks. What is she doing? Her hand presses against my lower back harder, so I can’t get up.

“Yeah?”

“Can you come hold her down for a few minutes? Clint said he needs my help with something.” She calls to him, but I can hear the mischief in her voice. She definitely planned this.

He walks over, the lights catching beads of sweat all over his body and I have to bite my lip to physically stop myself from groaning. This man should really not be allowed to be shirtless in the company of women.

“You okay with this (Y/N)?” He asks, frowning as he sees that one of Nats hands is on my waist while the other is pressing my back down a little.

Oh, the clever little bitch.

“Yup.” I pop the ‘p’. I’m almost certain that my brain wouldn’t be capable of producing a full coherent sentence with him standing this close.

Natasha takes his hands in hers and places them where hers were. She shows him how to properly apply the pressure. The, she walks out of the gym, but not before throwing a quick wink in my direction.

For a few seconds it’s quiet. Neither of us know what to say. Sure, we’ve been friends for a long time, just never this physical outside of training or actual missions. So this is new for the both of us.

Steve clears his throat. “ Are you sure this is okay? I don’t want to-”

“Steve, it’s fine. Don’t worry. It’s a, uh, different position I suppose. But we train together all the time.” I try my best at reassuring him, but even I can’t deny that the position we’re currently in is making my thoughts run wild. My ass near his crotch? His hand gripping my hip? Just Steve shirtless? It’s like a scene from the dream I had on Thursday.

Granted, he’s probably only asking because he’s a gentleman.

I hear a soft ‘hmm’ from him, and then we’re quiet again. For a few minutes we just stay in the position, my muscles burning and my imagination loving the view. He just looks so good without a shirt. To be fair, he also looks good even with layers upon layers of clothing. He’s truly the most attractive man I’ve ever laid my eyes on. And that’s no understatement.

I would pay good money to know what’s going through his mind right now.

We’re both snapped out of our thoughts when the door to the gym opens and Bucky and Sam walk in, both with a towel around their necks and boxing gloves on. They stop dead in their tracks to take us both in, me bent over and Steve standing behind me and holding my hip.

Bucky breaks out into a grin, and Sam narrows his eyes. He clears his throat. “Did we interrupt something?”

Steve looks down at me, and I nod. He lets go of me and I slowly stand back up, fighting a groan at how much my muscles ache. I do everything in my power to not make eye contact with any of the men, so I just grab my phone and start texting Nat. Steve can deal with this one.

“Uh, yes, I-I mean n-no. No, you didn’t.” He stutters much to the guys amusement. His face is now as red as mines must have been a few minutes ago. I quickly fire texts to Nat.

‘You’re evil. Pure evil.’

I immediately get a reply.

‘Oh, don’t pretend like you weren’t daydreaming about it anyways ;)’

I feel my face getting hot again.

“Sure. Well, sorry to bust up your little... whatever that was, but we’re here to actually train.” Sam motions to us two with a smirk, before the two walk to the other side of the gym. I don’t miss Bucky giving Steve a thumbs-up.

I choose to ignore it, and instead bend down to roll up my mat, but a sharp pain shoots through my shoulder down to my shoulder blade. I hiss and go to roll my arm to asses the damage, but that just worsens it. I’d successfully managed to pull a muscle.

Steve furrows his brows. “What’s wrong?”

I bite my lip, another groan fighting it’s way up my throat. Beads of sweat begin to appear over my forehead as the pain gets worse. I shake my head no.

“I pulled a muscle. Fuck, it hurts.”

He rolls up the mat for me while I just stand there. The pain isn’t the worst I’ve felt before, after all the entire team’s been shot at least once, including me. But handling pain has never been my strongest suit.

“Do you, well... I mean... I could give you a massage?” Steve asks hesitantly. His ears are a bit red, and it brings a tired smile to my face. My heart is in my throat, and the pain is making me borderline careless.

“A massage from Captain America himself? How could I ever say no?”

Steve chuckles. It’s now or never, right?

“However, I could think of something else that could help with the pain.” I bite my lip, looking directly into his eyes for the first time since Natasha pulled this little stunt.

He smiles a little. “Of course, what is it (Y/N)?”

I take a step closer to him. And before I can chicken out I throw on a confident smile. “Kiss me.”

I watch his face for a few seconds. It goes from shock, to a look of realisation, and then to a bashful smile that makes my heart hammer so hard it might just leap out of my chest.

“Anything to help a dame like yourself.” He says softly, before gently placing his lips on mine.

His lips are warm and soft unlike mine, they taste of menthol and vaguely salty of sweat, a weird yet intoxicating combination. His hands slowly take mines in his and intertwines our fingers. A spark ignites inside of me, one full of desire and life, so intense it makes me go weak at the knees. It’s like the last few months have been leading up to this moment.

He pulls away first. His eyes, laced with uncertainty and hesitation, begin to scan my face. Almost as if he’s waiting for me to slap him or throw insults in his face. Instead, I smile at him.

“I still want that massage though.”

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babes-and-baddies · 5 years ago

Note

Best to worse lov member to lose your virginity to lmao

how exactly do you define ‘best’, my dude? is it superior skill, emotional intimacy and mutual trust, a secure relationship going forward, a lack of commitments and hangups? because depending on your needs, there are reasons any one of the LOV could be the best to give up your v-card to,,, and i, a humble thirsty hoe, shall explain all of those reasons by explaining just what it’d be like to have your first time with them

that said, here’s my Hot Take (under cut because i went overboard lmao…, NSFW, obvi):

Kurogiri: He’s an absolute gentleman, and an experienced one at that. Kurogiri can take you apart with ease, touch you just so, and still make you relax against him as he takes the lead and shows just how good sex can get. He’s the type to take his time, noticing your tics and turn-ons and paying mind to your newly-discovered limits before you even know what it is you like. Kurogiri would make sure you feel secure, satiated; even after you cum, he’ll take care to check in with a glass of warped-over water to ensure you’re feeling alright. Plus, if you make it a thing, well. Once he knows your weaknesses, what you need, he’d be more than happy to push some boundaries and experiment with some of your more…. questionable of fantasies. He may be a gentleman, but he’s still a rather alternative-minded one; such is the fate for those who become villains. Lucky you ;)

Twice: While he may not seem the type to be so high on the list at first, you’ve got to admit that Jin’s got a lot going for him here. Loyal, caring, humorous, and extremely considerate, Twice is a perfect choice for those who want something fun, tender, safe and passionate for their first time. If he sees you as a friend or teammate, Jin is more than willing to go the extra mile to take things over-the-top and give you a night you’ll never want to forget, even if it it’s far from the high-finesse perfection you could get elsewhere. Jin also has another talent invaluable for your first time: he knows how to make you laugh and let go. Carefree humour meets unashamed affection, and whenever something awkward or embarrassing happens it can be brushed off without concern. Do you make a weird and unattractive noise, or end up falling off the bed in a tangle of limbs? Jin would only respond with a light heart, taking in all your ‘flaws’ as something natural and fun, showing that it’s okay to not hang up on the ‘imperfections’ that simply make your time together real. You have nothing to worry about, since sex is weird, right? Especially your first time. And guess what, Jin’s a bit weird too! Why should that make them any less good?To be with Jin is intimate but stress-free, passionate but light-hearted, and you can let go knowing that your comfort and feelings come first. The only downside is that he might think your trust is so precious, your time together so special, that he might just fall in love with you. But with a sweetheart like Jin, that’s more an extra benefit than anything. How could you make love to him and not feel the same in return?

Magne: As someone who calls upon self-respect and a deep loyalty to her teammates, if you find yourself by Magne’s side you can trust her to treat you with all the care you deserve. She would do anything for her friends, for her loved ones, and if you give your virginity to her it’s sure to be given the weight it deserves. After all, she knows full well the impact of self-autonomy and choosing how to use and inhabit your own body. With you supporting and trusting her own self, Magne knows the importance of returning the favour.And if there’s romance in the equation? All the better! But either way, Magne looks out for her own. While she may be more vanilla, she’s someone who puts your needs and boundaries first without expecting anything extra of you. And if what you need is a safe, comfortable first time with someone you can trust, she’s got you covered.

Compress: Sako is who you go to when you want skill, with a side of respectful detachment. There’s less intimacy, less care, but when you want to fuck the first time just to see what it’s like and get it over with already, or to finally get into it without having to worry about all the messy details, Sako can take care of it. So there’s less intimacy, sure, but fuck does he make up for it by knowing how to use what he’s got. He’s the type to take his time, to tease, to make a show of it for both your and his viewing pleasure, and he’s got the swift hands and cunning tongue to make taking you apart only the first act. He can ease you into things, but soon enough you might find yourself wanting even more of what he has to offer.

Spinner: While Spinner may not seem like someone to have your first time with, consider: shy + disciplined + beefy = very enthusiastic and eager-to-please good time. I’ll be the first to admit he may not have much in the way of experience, but Shuichi more than makes up for it in dedication. If you’re willing to not only fuck him, but share something so special as your first time, then he’s going to make extra sure to take care of you in every way possible. He’s here to prove a point - a point both to you and to himself- and show that you made the right choice in spending your first time with him. He’s strong enough to try things out, eager enough to listen to direction; one setback, though, may come in the form of his cluelessness and own desire to make it good for himself. But don’t worry, if you make it clear how special this moment is, he’s back on track in a second.Just make sure to give him ample time to prepare himself, okay? A day’s warning could make all the difference- because if he’s not expecting anything, his inexperience combined with his excitement could lead to a few problems in the ‘actually making you feel good’ department.

Giran: This old man’s a total sleeze, but he’s a loyal one; Giran stays true to his own and gives as good as he gets, so with something special like your first time, he’ll take care of you real good. After all, your virginity is pretty ‘special’, no? This here is someone who knows how to properly appreciate it.With lots of experience up his sleeve, Giran knows just how to make you feel real good, how to show you the ropes and get the most out of both your and his pleasure. Just remember it’s nothing personal. He’s still going to respect you after it all, but don’t expect any touchy-feely. You both had fun, both got something valuable out of it, and isn’t that what matters?Bonus: if you fuck him reaaal good, there might just be some future opportunities regarding… business negotiations. You wouldn’t happen to be looking for a sugar daddy by any chance, would you? Because there might be one on the market.

Tomura: On the chance he has no sexual or romantic interest in you, he’d not bother to accept your offer in the first place and instead recommend you find someone else to take care of you. If he is somehow interested, then, well.The best reason to give your virginity to Tomura is also the worst reason to do so: he thinks stealing your first time is hot as fuck. Virginity kinks are a thing, and Tomura is a sure example. There’s something alluring about taking something so precious, tainting something so innocent; naively offer yourself to him and Tomura wants to ruin you, have you all to himself and hold on to everything he can. Sure, doing this may lead to some issues of possessiveness and eventual unhealthy relationship dynamics on his part, but it can lead to a damn good fuck if you play your cards right and call on his desire to be the only one to please you. And if you like him, offering your virginity is a great way to make- and keep- him interested. On the downside, your comfort and security are more conditional on how he feels and expect things to play out. When he truly cares- sees you as a friend, a love interest- then everything is great as long as you continue to give him the love and trust shown in offering such a precious part of yourself; he’d be sure to repay that trust in taking care of you. But if you try to distance yourself afterwards, try to say your time together was casual or without intimacy, he wouldn’t take too kindly to it. Tomura chose to accept you like this, and that means you’re his. And he took care of you, right? It’s only fair you take care of him in return, with your love and loyalty. It’s really in your best interest from that point on to accept that and trust him to keep you.

Dabi: Dabi’s who you’d want to go to if you don’t care much about this whole ‘virginity’ thing, if you want something rough, something good, but something without any serious commitment coming out of it. An awkward but kinky virgin who wants to get fucked up? Curious about sex but uncaring about boundaries and uninterested in romance? Dabi’s your guy. He can blow your mind with beautiful degradation and thoughtful apathy, and continue to act as if nothing has changed the next morning aside from the occasional innuendo at your expense. He doesn’t care much about the ‘first time’ thing unless he somehow caught the feelings; if that’s the case than you better hope you got your relationship figured out before sex entered the equation, otherwise it could be the difference between a tender fuck and the blatant disregard of any connection as he ignores his feelings. Sure, if you’re friends or comrades he might be more gentle out of respect, and of course giving him your virginity when you’re together would be sweet, but otherwise? Well, you didn’t come to him for sweet or gentle. Dabi’s ready to show just how good it can feel to act bad, the pleasure found in pain, and you better hope you’re prepared for it.

Toga: Maybe,,,, maybe Toga isn’t the best idea here. For starters, maybe wait a few years, yeah? Or pick someone a little closer to your own age? Unless you’re a kid, but even then,,, there are still probably some better options out there. Toga’s idea of ’love’ isn’t something that would turn out well for you, and her version of ‘friendship’ isn’t much better if Uraraka is any example. The only people who seem safe are her teammates, her found family. If you’re in the LOV, someone precious enough to her to not want dead, you can probably have sex with her and make it out alive; the whole romance aspect of ‘sharing your first time with her’ wont make it easy, but at least you’d have a chance. Basically: please love yourself. Find someone who wouldn’t want to kill you. And please, maybe stick to fellow adults, yeah?

BONUS:

10. Moonfish: Best choice for fans of vore, and fans of vore ONLY

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #league of villains #kurogiri #bnha twice #magne #mr compress #bnha spinner #tomura #dabi #giran #toga #moonfish #mine #did i go overboard with this? yes. do i care? no #this is why im better at scenarios that hcs dstfgyuhijok #at this point 'hc' is shorthand for 'vague thirstposting with context'

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profitinaecho · 5 years ago

Text

Pre1900s

August, 1845

Elizabeth Ortecho drew her shoulders back, drawing herself into perfect posture while looking at her reflection in the mirror. Her new yellow dress was the color of jonquils and set off her tan skin and black hair perfectly. The cut did almost scandalous things to her figure. If she were an actual lady, she would regret that more than she did. Women are supposed to be chaste and submissive. Elizabeth naturally was none of those things but all of her training up until this point prepared her to fake it. She scowled at her reflection and pinched her cheeks for some color.

The carriage had arrived to take her to the house party at the Duchess Ann Evans’ home. Before her family had lost their fortune to her father’s illness, Elizabeth had been close with the Duchess’ children. But that was then and she needed to find a viable husband to save her family from ruin now. Her childhood friend, Maxwell Evans, would be there all grown up. It would be nice to see him but she couldn’t allow him to distract her from her mission. She remembered the reason she was dressed like this and it wasn’t to mingle with Maxwell. Her only goal was to seduce Doctor Valenti.

————————————-

Maxwell Evans took a last look in the mirror. He didn’t care much about his appearance normally but the type of people downstairs definitely cared. He wore a Savile Row evening suit, neatly combed hair, and a fresh shave. He would be sure to use the cultured accent that had been drummed into him at an early age. He would need it to impress future business contacts and hopefully find a viable candidate to marry. His parents had made him promise to cozy up to Maria, the daughter of an Earl, in hopes of combining their companies with marriage.

Coming down the stairs, Maxwell saw Lord DeLuca and his daughter waiting in the drawing room for dinner. Maria was in a powder blue dress made of the finest materials by her family’s tailor. A few other gentlemen were also loitering, waiting on the rest of the ladies to appear. Many of them were discussing business in the House of Lords and things that had happened at Oxford. It drove Maxwell nearly insane with boredom. Bowing slightly as he approached the Deluca’s, Maxwell put on his most charming grin. “Lord DeLuca, I trust the rum industry is treating you well? I have been following your growth for some time.”

“Oh? My uh, business agent sees to the company details.” Lord DeLuca shifted uncomfortably.

“I see.” It was exactly as Maxwell had feared. Lord DeLuca knew nothing about his own company. Maxwell had learned the alcohol industry from the ground up and built his company based on the findings. Any business interactions would not go forward, but Maria was beautiful and his key to combining their companies so he looked forward to getting to know her better. She was the key to this deal going forward. Maria smiled shyly at him through her lashes. He smiled back at her and felt relieved. This would be easier than he expected. Behind her, a lady in a yellow dress and black curls entered and he realized it was his childhood friend, Elizabeth. Bowing slightly to announce his departure, Max said “My old neighbor has entered and I must go say hello.”

“But I will have a chance to speak with you after dinner, won’t I?” Maria pouted.

“Of course.” Maxwell promised. This was going much better than he expected if she was already interested. Maxwell strode across the room to Elizabeth. “Look at you, all cleaned up. You look lovely.” He teased her.

Elizabeth forced herself not to stick her tongue out at him. “I could say the same about you.”

“I’m so glad you came. These people are a terrible bore.” He admitted quietly.

His mother announced that dinner was ready and the old friends parted- Maxwell to sit next to the Delucas and Elizabeth to sit next to Dr. Kyle Valenti.

————————————-

Elizabeth had zoned out by the soup course and was willing herself not to doze off when she heard the men talking about going on a shooting party after dinner. Before she could stop herself, she found herself asking “May I shoot too?”

Every head at the table pivoted towards her and she realized her mistake. Dr. Valenti’s eyes shot up towards his dark hairline. “You hunt?”

Placing her hands delicately on her lap, Elizabeth nonchalantly replied, “Oh, I try.” Further down the table, Maxwell smirked. He knew better. After all, he had been the one to teach her to shoot.

“I’m sure you’re quite good.” Dr. Valenti complimented her.

“I’m a dreadful shot but it sounds fun.” Elizabeth forced herself to smile at him more intimately and flirtatious than she actually felt. “Perhaps you could show me how?”

“It would be my pleasure.” Kyle answered her. His eyes held a flicker of interest. If she could manage to mind her manners and act like a lady, her family might be saved after all. She found Kyle attractive and boring, but he was kind and there were worse things he could be. Feeling cheered at the progress she was making, she looked down the table at Maxwell. She could tell he was judging her for the exchange and she felt the urge to send him a vulgar gesture. Despite once being her very best friend, Maxwell only brought out her worst traits now. With the doctor, she did her best to behave and be everything society expected her to be. Not that it was a comparison or competition, because Maxwell was her past and she was going to do everything to ensure Kyle was her future.

————————————-

The conversation with the other ladies in the parlor was tedious at best while she waited for the men to join them. She found herself desperately talking about the weather with Lady Isobel. When the gentleman joined them, she exhaled with relief until she saw that Lord Wyatt Long was approaching her.

“My dear Lady Elizabeth, I was so saddened to be sitting so far away from you at dinner.” Lord Long leaned in too close to her and she willed herself not to retreat. She couldn't control the look of disgust on her face though.

“Oh?” Elizabeth told herself not to roll her eyes and went to move around him but he caught her wrist.

“We should remedy that by having a conversation now.” Lord Long wasn’t letting go of her wrist and was starting to scare her.

Maxwell left a protesting Maria across the room to rescue Elizabeth. “Actually, she promised to have a conversation with me.” Maxwell had found it amusing watching Elizabeth try to escape Lord Long until he could tell she was distressed. Maxwell had probably ruined his chances with Maria based upon the disgust on her face but Elizabeth had needed help. Taking her hand from Lord Long’s Maxwell placed it in the crook of his elbow, pivoted and sat with her across the room. “You have picked up a determined admirer.” He teased her.

“I keep discouraging him but he won’t go away.” Elizabeth huffed. In the haze of the gaslights, he could think of a million reasons a man would be infatuated with Elizabeth. He’d barely been able to keep his eyes off her smooth tan skin and sparkling dark eyes all though dinner. “Thank you for the rescue. Now if you’ll excuse…” Elizabeth stood up, her yellow skirts rustling.

“Where are you going?” Maxwell had the strangest flutter in his stomach. He didn’t know what to make of it.

“To speak to Dr. Valenti.” She craned her neck looking for Kyle. That feeling in Max’s gut intensified and he belatedly realized it was jealousy.

Max found himself chuckling. “Why?”

“Look, I know he isn’t the most exciting man in the room but he’s not bad to look at. And he could take care of me and my family. My father is sick. He’s an honorable, skilled man.”

Max had to admit she was making sense in a detached logical way. But the Elizabeth he knew was passionate and bold. It made him sad to think of her spending her life that way. “It seems like a decent match on paper but why do you think he would want to marry you?”

Elizabeth gasped in outrage and leaned forward. It did amazing things to her breasts in that dress and distracted Max. “I could ask the same thing about Lady Maria. Why would the daughter of an Earl want to be with you?” They were staring each other down when it was announced that it was time to form the hunting party.

Before his eyes, Elizabeth took a deep breath and transformed into a perfect lady. She smiled a sweet innocent smile and her dark eyes lost their spark of mischief. She batted her long black eyelashes and every inch of her posture softened. “I bet I can make Dr. Valenti mine before you manage with Lady Maria.” Elizabeth’s voice had become quiet and husky. It had the type of suggestive rumble that made a man want things. Her expression was pleasant and blank and it startled Maxwell to see her acting so unlike herself. Before Maxwell could tell her that he wasn’t sure he wanted Lady Maria after all, she lifted her skirts and flounced over to Dr. Valenti, glaring at Maxwell over his shoulder. Elizabeth was put on a flawless performance and anyone that hadn’t known her since childhood would be under her spell.

————————————-

Elizabeth found herself alone in a sea of tweed with no one but Maxwell for company. Assuming she ever spoke to him again. Elizabeth closed her gun with a snap and plastered on her brightest smile. “Good afternoon, Dr. Valenti.”

It bothered Maxwell that the doctor received her sunniest greeting while so far, all he had gotten was a scowl from her.

“Are you ready for the hunt today?” Kyle asked Elizabeth.

“I’m actually a bit nervous. This gun is just so big.” Max snorted and Elizabeth lifted her skirt to move closer to Dr. Valenti, deliberately stomping Max’s foot on her way under her skirt so no one else would know.

“Hand me your weapon and I’ll make sure it is properly loaded.” Kyle held out his hand and she demurely handed him the rifle.

A while later, a flock of partridge took flight from the shrubbery and Elizabeth tracked it with her gun. She followed its arc with her eyes then with a curse, yanked the gun up and shot wide. Maxwell raised an eyebrow at her but said nothing.

“Cheer up, Miss Ortecho! Just a little practice and I’m sure you’ll bag something.” Called Kyle from her other side. “You have a good steady hand.”

“They fly so fast, don’t they?” She blinked up at him innocently.

“They do. Just have some patience and you’ll hit one.”

“I’m sure you’re right.” She sighed sweetly and reloaded her weapon.

“You’re such a liar.” Maxwell teased her when Dr. Valenti had walked a ways away from them. “You had those birds in your sight. You missed on purpose.”

“You must be seeing things.”

“To be honest, I’m quite positive you could outshoot every man on this property.”

“No man wants to be outshot by a woman.” Elizabeth argued.

“You were better than me at everything when we were children. I don’t know why you pretend to be something you aren’t.”

“You were much smaller then. You could take me in a heartbeat now.” His eyes darkened and Elizabeth flushed when she realized what she said. Clearing her throat, she explained, “Most men get cranky when something threatens their masculinity.”

“What will you do if you marry him? You can’t hide your skills from him forever.”

“I suppose I will have to be a dutiful wife and not embarrass my husband by outshooting him.” Before Max could reply that he disagreed, she lifted her yellow skirts and headed towards Dr. Valenti. “Dr. Valent! I thought you could give me a few pointers on my aim.”

“Of course, Miss. Ortecho. Now raise your gun” Kyle was all smiles as he settled her gun against her shoulder. He adjusted her hands on the weapon and smiled warmly. “Try it like that.”

“Thank you so much. It feels better already.” Elizabeth smiled warmly at him over her shoulder and Max saw it then- the moment Dr. Valenti started to fall and it tore him up inside.

Whispering quietly to Elizabeth as they followed the hunting party, Maxwell asked, “Are you going to stop pretending you can’t hit the broadside of a barn? It’s very tedious watching you pretend to be someone else.”

Up ahead, the hounds barked as they flushed out a flock of pheasants from the brush. Glancing away from Max, Elizabeth raised her gun, aimed and fired two shots in quick succession. Two birds fell from the sky with a squawk. The rest of the men turned to stare at her in astonishment. She shrugged daintily, “Would you look at that! Wasn’t that lucky?”

Max rolled his eyes. “Come find me when you get tired of this farce. I much prefer the real you.”

#alteraroswell2020 #rnmevents #rnm echo #roswell nm #ficlets? ficlets?#rnm fic

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hyperionswrath--archived · 4 years ago

Text

@onepartbrave

Residue impatience rocked Squall’s frame as he waited for the seemingly bewildered blond to follow his demands. Then again, perhaps urging his former rival into motion wasn’t the best take. Seifer was as stubborn as they came, more so than him at times, so pushing rarely worked. Although, combined with confusion, at least he stood more of a chance. The fact alcohol raged through both their systems assisted, too. Boldly conveying impetuosity, he half-turned on his heel to face the man while he seemingly stumbled over words and what action to perform next. Strange a sight as it was, seeing Seifer flustering was enjoyable. Amusing, even.

Although, his disorientation sounded genuine, like he hadn’t the foggiest one where Squall directed he be lead. That made sense… the guy hadn’t checked his phone after taking it back and he hadn’t expressed where. Faltering momentarily on how to elaborate on such without revealing his snooping, Seifer beat him to it by gaining clarity and pinning him with an accusatory stare. …That’s fair. I shouldn’t’ve snooped. Having the modesty to blush and funnel a smidgen of remorse to his countenance, the presumption faded from his body language and he felt mildly rebuked. Not that Seifer was annoyed; if the light laughter was any implication, he was mirthful.

…Odd ball.

A disapproving scowl was his response to Seifer’s jesting. “No.” Stubborn defiance laced the single word, indicating exactly how poorly he felt about that idea. “Not my type.”

Finally, they were on their way. Mindlessly mumbling a “thanks” when the door was held open, the instant he stepped out into the night air, a vicious chill swept through him. Holy fuck, it’s cold! Shivering inherently, he hugged his upper body tightly and tried staving off the worst of the breezy air by becoming a smaller target. Hell, it’d work wonders if Seifer took the proper lead and Squall could crouch behind him as they walked, effectively becoming one big buffer. A perk of being bult like a goddamn building, the shelter that came from cowing behind it.

Contemplating how offended the man would be if he asked for him to become a personal wind-guard, he got snapped from his head when a coat was thrust his way. Blinking in surprise, yet not taking a step back like he normally would, clueless grey-blues frowned at the attire held aloft for him to obviously take to the one holding it. But it’s yours, stuck fast in his throat and for once, he was happy he hadn’t spoke. The gesture was entirely sweet and unlike Seifer, so Squall was rendered slightly dumbstruck. Fortunately, he didn’t forget his manners and grabbed the offering a moment later, gaze dropping and head inclining in bashful (ugh) gratitude. “Thank you.”

Attention honing in on the jacket, he manoeuvred it around properly so he could pull one arm in, and then the other without requiring aid. It was big—too big for him—but warm. Cosy, and… it smelled nice. Earthy, almost, but riddled with something that made his fingertips tingle as they struggled to poke out the end of the sleeves. …Why’s he gotta be so big? Sighing to himself, he grabbed each side of the open jacket and wrapped them tight around his slimmer frame, knowing any zipper would be useless for him. Nodding once when satisfied, he gazed back up at Seifer and tilted his head curiously.

“So? Let’s go. You’ll freeze otherwise.”

Inexplicably restless, he started off in a direction he hoped was correct. The longer they lingered, the colder it would be. The last he needed was the Glaive getting frostbite or pneumonia.

One of these days he'd hopefully get used to the endearing blush on those high cheeks that made him unreasonably smitten, but today was definitely not the day. And the mere thought of how much that flush would deepen once Squall would register what he had gotten himself into was enough to make him smirk with a devilish grin.

It had been his first idea after all to take the guy to one of these types of clubs, he just really hadn't thought he'd be able to actually do it. "Then what is?", he asked before he could stop himself, teasing tone betraying his amusement. Would he get an answer to that? He was curious about what Squall considered his type after all. Little ravenhaired princesses for one, that much he knew.

Shoulders sliding up as he felt a freezing gust of wind, it took him but a moment to adjust to the drop of temperatures before his body heat seemed to be enough to warm him. At least he wasn't shivering like the small twig of a man next to him. Watching how Squall slipped into the coat, the tall blond had to muffle a burst of laughter behind his hand, pretending to cough. Shit, this night really was surreal. After everything that had happened the brunet had the audacity to look adorable, of all things?! He couldn't help it. With a slight shake of his head, he chuckled, brushing the back of the other to get him to move and also holding his arm out for support, should it still be needed to prevent stumbling. "Who knew the famed Lion could look so adorable?", he muttered, eyes staring ahead to avoid the surely following death glare of the other man. "And don't mention it, princess," he retorted to the offering of gratitude. Which reminded him.

While walking, he once more fingered his phone out of his pocket, unlocking it and tapping onto the screen for a while before storing it back where it belonged. "I don't freeze easily. Had my share of practice around icicles." A smirk playing his lips, jade-greens glanced down to the other before the very one tries taking the lead. Seifer let him, for the time being, as they have to follow the alley back the way they came, onto the livelier streets. From there, he stepped up to walk ahead, steering his footfalls across a street and along another one, before they turned the corner to what could be called an amusement district.

Countless bars, brothels, gambling joints, and other establishments lined up with bright lights and colorful posters, wanting to lure potential customers in. Observing Squall from the corner of his eyes, the tall blond wondered if the man already questioned his decision and if he might have an idea where they were going. They steered clear of all the lower class clubs, and if one was to take in their surroundings, they would see that at the end of the amusement mile there stood a tall, pristine building made entirely of glass it seemed. Presenting itself like the ice crystal summoned by Shiva's breath herself, the 'Diamond Dust' towered over all other buildings like a monument to innocence in all it's crystalline and white glory.

A set of steps led up to the entrance, most guests that approached were clothed in fine garments, fur coats and the like, covering them against the cold. Seifer stopped when they reached the entrance, one hand touching Squall's shoulder to make him wait up so he could reach into one of his coat's inner pockets and retrieve a silver card which he showed to the bouncer (who looked more like a muscular gentleman than anything you would usually see in such an area of expertise). A nod from the man followed and he held the door open for the two of them to enter. Inside, white marble covered the floor and crimson velvet drapes adorned the walls, exuding nothing short of luxury. In the far corner, there was a coat check and if Squall didn't know what this building was, he'd soon come to grips with it. For the ladies and gentleman leaving their outside attire with the personnel there were usually dressed in very telling outfits. As fun as it might be to watch the reactions unfold on Squall's face - and he would take all the time in the world so he could enjoy it - he also placed a protective hand on the small of the other one's back, signaling that he was with the tall blond.

#onepartbrave #rp #long post #.seifer feels so smug #.he has so much fun with this scenario

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wolfpawn · 5 years ago

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I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 32

Chapter Summary - Tom and Danielle have more fun when they go to her hotel room.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long. This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

Note - Smut in this chapter.

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @jessibelle-nerdy-mum@nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

“We really should eat,” Tom commented, his lips barely leaving Danielle’s.

“Mmhmm, yes.” She agreed, but her actions conflicted with her words as she attacked his mouth again. “In a sec.”

“You are your own worst enemy,” Tom chuckled as he pulled her closer to him.

“Tom.” Her voice was a pleading gasp.

Tom did not take a moment to understand what it was she was begging for, lifting her up so that her legs were around his waist. “Elle.” He moaned into her mouth as her body rubbed against his. “We…food.”

“Soon.” She groaned, grinding herself into him.

That was all Tom could bear, after craving her for so long and finally having been able to have her, Tom turned and placed her on the bed, crawling over her as his hands gently but purposely making their way to her ass. “Elle.”

“Please.” She begged, grinding herself into him, trying to show him what she craved so desperately, her hand making its way to his pants, trying to unbutton the offending item.

It took mere moments before both had attacked the clothing that were in their way, her top pulled up, her bra pulled down slightly, her breasts exposed, her pants thrown across the room, its current location unknown to either of them due to their lust. Tom’s shirt was open and his pants and boxers pulled down only enough to be out of the way. “How are you so eager again already?” He smiled, he was by no means complaining, but he was curious as to the cause of her eagerness.

“I…too long.”

Not waiting for her to go further into an explanation, Tom caressed the skin of her hip before slowly allowing his hand to gently slide in between her legs. “Elle.”

“Yes.” Her consent, though he knew she gave it without speaking, was all the better when she uttered it. Her hands making their way to his ass, loving that she finally got to touch it, having almost punctured her lip on more than one occasion with her teeth while watching Crimson Peak and The Night Manager and seeing his delectable derriere on-screen, dreaming of being able to feel it in her hands, finally getting to do so; since she could not do so from above him the night before.

“My turn in charge,” He grinned sinfully, gently pulling himself down her body until his face was just over the apex of her thighs, his warm breath causing her to moan as it brushed against her exposed body. He glanced up at her for a moment, and seeing the eager nod she gave, began to use his tongue to moisten her enough to use his fingers on her, before using his thin lips to suck her clit from its hiding place and putting two slender fingers into her, stroking her wet body, knowing at any moment he would find that spot within her that had turned her so wanton mere hours before. “Where are you?” He teased before nipping gently at her now exposed clit. The manner in which she swore as she bucked off the bed to his mouth told him his search was successful. “Good?”

“Fuck, Tom.”

“You sound good like this.” He grinned, noting how much wetter she was getting.

“Stop fucking teasing me.” She growled, her hand going to his head, trying to get him to continue what he was doing.

“Tsk, tsk, so eager.” He teased, but wanting her to come to orgasm quickly, he attacked her clit again with his lips, pursing them tightly around it as his tongue gently flicked against it, his fingers stroking over the small nerves within her with purpose, not wanting to prolong his actions much longer.

“Tom.” Elle yelped as her legs began to shake and it began to feel too good. “I…”

Tom said nothing in response, instead, he hastened his actions, his reward was her blunt nails scratching his scalp as her ass left the bed and her body bowed up to him, wanting as much friction as was possible. He moaned as he felt her release around his fingers and against his chin, his lightly whiskered facial hair only adding to her pleasure. Finally, she slumped onto the bed, her breaths fast and shallow. “I take it that as you enjoying yourself.” He grinned.

“Eh, yeah.” She gasped between breaths, “Did I…did I hurt you?”

“Not at all, I actually enjoyed that.” he grinned, pulling himself up next to her, bringing the duvet over them.

“What about you?” she asked, looking at him.

“What about me?”

“Don’t you want to…?”

Tom frowned for a second, noting the hurt tone of her voice, trying to figure out what had caused her mood to slump so suddenly after she had clearly been pleasured. “Don’t I want to what?”

“You…you didn’t…” Danielle bit her lips together, her upset confusing him.

“Wait, you think I don’t want to…” he realised, she nodded, to her shock, he chuckled. “Oh, my beautiful Elle.” He pulled her into him, kissing her before taking her hand and guiding it down his body until it was met by a very hard appendage. “Does this look like disinterest to you?” he asked playfully.

“But then, why not…”

“If you want to, then yes, but I am not the sort of man to expect that getting you off means I can just mount you like a broodmare and chase my own pleasure immediately after.” He scoffed.

“God, you are so blunt sometimes.” Danielle laughed, but she pulled him in for another kiss, pulling him over her as she did so. “I want to make you feel good too. So, here is your choice Mister Hiddleston.” She stated confidently.

“Ooh, I like the way you say that, Darling.” He grinned as he raised a brow.

“Duly noted. So, you can have your way here,” she grabbed his ass and pulled herself up so her drenched core rubbed against the underneath of his cock, the appendage seemingly realising what it was so close to and twitched eagerly as he moaned at the sensation she sent shooting through it. “Or, you can have it here.” She leant her face toward him, her lips pressing against his before her tongue snaked into his mouth.

“Fuck, you are a little tease.” He groaned, “I… fuck.” His mind clouded, not knowing which to have. Tired from the days of jetlag and travel, he slumped down on her for a moment and found himself rubbing against her leg, her smaller height meaning her core was closer his abdomen. Thinking he meant to imply he wanted to be in her, Danielle shirked down slightly until her heat was at the head of his leaking cock. “Yes.” He hissed, pushing himself up, his previous preparations meaning she was able to take him as he buried himself within her. Instantly, she wrapped her legs around and clenched herself around him. “Shit, you can do that on command?” he asked, looking down at her. Danielle gave a wicked grin in return. “Do it again.” She did, and he made a strangled noise as her body clenched around him. Wanting to feel even more pleasure, he started to move his hips, just slightly at first before his tempo and force increased slightly. “Whoever would have thought that the perfectly behaved Elle could be so fucking good at teasing?” he grinned, before kissing her again.

“Am I a tease?” she grinned, loving how his dimensions seemed to almost perfectly fit her, he was big and long, but it did not overstretch her.

“You fucking know it, don’t be so coy.” He snarled, the sound of his body hitting against hers was beginning to become cruder as her wetness flooded her thighs. “Fuck…Elle, you feel so fucking good.” He moaned. “I…Fuck.”

“Yes.” She clenched around him again, her nails digging into his toned ass.

For a moment, she was unsure as to whether she had hurt him with the noise he made as she clenched, but the frantic way he pounded into her, making pleading noises for more caused her to do it again. “Fuck!” he groaned, taking a few strong thrusts to fill her. His breathing heavy as he leant his forehead against hers. “I am so sorry.”

“For what?” she asked, confused.

Tom slid his hand between them, not surprised when he felt her exposed clit out, begging to be touched. Eagerly, he began to toy with it, moving his hips slightly as he was still not after softening, hoping to add more pleasure. “A gentleman should never leave a lady wanting.” He grinned, moving slightly, loving the way Elle was trying to force herself to remain quiet. “Don’t, Love, don’t hold it in, let me know how good it is.” He begged.

“I…”

“Yes.”

“Tom.”

“Danielle, my beautiful Elle, let me hear you, let go my love.”

The kind words he used causing her legs to shake more as her climax built, the feeling of him in her, the wet sound of their juices combined spurring her on. “Tom.”

“Please Elle, give me another one.” He begged, hastening his fingers as his cock began to soften slightly. “I want to give you another one.”

“Yes.” Her hips began to rise to him, she began to rub herself against him. “Tom.”

“That’s my beautiful Elle, come on darling.”

Wantonly, Danielle ground herself against him, moving herself in a way that his cock rubbed her just right before she flooded around him again, her cries mere soundless gasps.

“That’s it, Love, that’s it.” He encouraged loving the feel of her clenching around him. “That’s it.”

Danielle slumped onto the bed under him, covered in their sweat. “I…Fuck me.” She exclaimed.

“Give me a few, I need to recover from that first.” He joked, falling to his side beside her, before pulling her over to him. “Who could have guessed you were so passionate.” He smiled, playing with her hair.

“Do I seem boring?” she asked.

“Not boring, no, just, I think I thought that id I was to get to see you like this, I would have to fight through a lot of walls first to do so.”

“I am not going to lie, Tom, it sounds like you are implying I am an easy lay.” She looked at him to show her hurt.

“No Elle, Jesus, I would never say that. You said you didn’t do it since you came to England, so that tells me you’re not. I just…I am making a total balls of this. You are better than I ever could have hoped, you…you just are amazing in every way.” He tried to explain.

“I…What on Earth have you been doing in relationships?” She asked, looking at him worriedly. He looked at her questioningly. “I thought, well, by today’s standard, that I am very normal in bed, and you think that is amazing?”

“You can be normal and amazing, I am not exactly ‘Fifty Shades of Grey’ either.”

“Really, that Interview photoshoot says different?”

“You liked that?” Tom asked with a raised brow.

Danielle curled in against him. “Well, it was different.”

“What did you really think?” he asked, pulling her back a little.

“I think we should order food.” She tried to turn to get out of bed. “Are you trying to get in a certain shape for a role, because there is a carbonara here that will…TOM!” he pulled her back to him, pinning her under him, a wolfish smile on his face.

“Answer me, Elle.”

“No.” she squeaked.

“You liked it, didn’t you? Are you into that sort of thing?” his eyes flickered side to side as he studied her.

“No, but…”

“But? But is interesting, but what, darling?”

Danielle pulled a pillow over her face. “You looked good.” Her voice muffled slightly.

“How good?” Tom smiled.

“Very. Enough for me to buy the magazine, and not throw it into the recycling after.”

“Can I let you in on a little secret my dear.” Danielle pulled the pillow off, her face was red from her admission. “I was uncomfortable as hell doing it, but I enjoyed it.”

“You didn’t look it.”

“I am glad you think so.” He smiled, leaning down to kiss her again. “Now, what is this about a carbonara?”

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fic #I Hate You I Love You #Chapter 32 #smut

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bluboothalassophile · 6 years ago

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Hey blu!! Your stories are amazing especially the HFab series. What gave you the idea or inspiration to pair up Raven and Jason romantically?

Hello,

First, I’m so glad to hear you are enjoying Hopes for a Bastard, it is my favorite story to write for fanfiction!

As to shipping JayRae romantically, I’ve shipped JayRae a long time, stumbling over @xaphrin & @bwbeedubs amazing works helped me actually get the courage to write them. Before then I didn’t write crack ships.

The inspiration for them is actually found in their base backgrounds and their contrasting personalities.

You have Jason Todd, the unwanted, outcast, baby brother of Dick Grayson, who is a complete Nerd, in love with school, being Robin, and kicking ass, and then you have Raven, who is a reclusive, lonely girl who is often outcasted because of what she is, and who is also a nerd. I saw them both hitting it off, the outcasts that they were.After Jason’s resurrection, and the Teen Titans show joked about Red X being Jason Todd. Carefully thinking it through, comparing resurrected Jason’s personality and interests with Raven’s personality and interests I could see it working.They both have that outcast feel still, regardless of the continuity, and I think they’d click and go if they ever got together. Granted they are a bit like fire and water, but I really think these two would work, in the long term, or as a team, or as friends, or even romantic partners.Raven’s got this stable personality, a love of doing quiet things, staying in her comfort zones. She doesn’t stray into dangerous territory, and she tends to stay out of trouble; while showing a great deal of responsibility and empathy to enemies and friends. But there is a ruthlessness to her character, one that the writers brush over on her, but Raven’s got a ‘take no prisoners’ attitude when it comes to her friends and family being in real trouble. She fights herself, and understand confronting demons, inner and outer, she understands hiding fear, being brave, and being alone when surrounded by people.Jason’s got the wild card personality, he’s quick to anger but shown to have brutally cold logic on his side, with a combination of infinite patience and a great deal of impatience. He lives for the thrill of the mad minute, but more than that, he likes helping people and making a real difference for those who look to him for help. Jason’s ruthlessness is always shown, it’s in his fighting style, his personality, his life style, but he’s also shown to be gentle and understanding towards his friends and family and other survivors. He also has his own inner battles, confronting his demons, and fighting them out, while they tear him up too. He is often times shown alone, even when he should have friends or allies, always as the odd man out.I think that the JayRae ship would have an interesting dynamic because of their fundamental personalities. Both are exceedingly loyal, unafraid of making the truly hard calls, both don’t tolerate bullshit and are more than willing to call others out on it, and they are such huge nerds! If they were in a relationship, issues of being freaked out about said relationship aside, they would be a solid pair. Jason’s enough to push Raven out of her comfort zones, and to keep her on her toes to live a little, he’d also be supportive and keep an interest in her and what she’s doing. Raven’s enough to reign Jason in, to sooth him to have quiet nights, she’s also understanding and able to support him, listen to him, or just be with him when he needs someone. I think that together they’d bring out the best in each other but also confront the worst the other has to offer without fear.Also, Raven’s a True Power House Character, with Power Overload in DC’s universe. It’s also been shown that she’s scared of herself and what her powers can do. Jason’s a Real Bad Ass, with Skills Overload. He’s been shown besting not just his brothers, but Slade and Ra’s al Ghul, so he’s a very dangerous non-metahuman, human.I don’t see Jason being intimidated by Raven’s powers, or what she is. In return I doubt Jason would scare Raven with what he’s capable of, or who he is. There’d be an acceptance between them.And for anyone who thinks different, Jason is the biggest feminist of the Bats, and in my opinion, of the DC characters, so he’d have zero intimidation of Raven. He’d probably think it’s cool that she’s a demon and a bad ass. He wouldn’t raise a hand to her, belittle, nitpick, or berate her, he wouldn’t ever hurt her intentionally, and he would beat the crap out of anyone who did harm her. Doesn’t matter she can look after herself, he’s totally the guy who’s going to pick her up from work, wait until he’s sure she’s safe in her home, he’d walk her to and from home, get the doors and chairs for her, not because she’s incapable of doing this herself, but because he’s going to do the little things for her. Raven in turn would think he’s a gentleman rather than a monster or outlaw. She wouldn’t cling to him, try to change him, try to berate, belittle, or nitpick what he does or who he is, and she would defend him before everyone. It doesn’t really matter to her that he’s a grown man and a complete bad ass, she’s going to straighten his jacket, tease him, support him, accept his actions as those of a gentleman, even if he is driving her nuts.All in all, the pairing, though a truly offbeat pairing, would work.

Inspiration for Hopes for a Bastard was actually inspired by something very simple, under the premise of if Jason was Red X:

What Would Happen If Red X Stole Something From Raven?

And since then, all ensuing shenanigans in the series is based off altering canon material for our benefit and fun! Also to smooth out the DC canonverse with magic, space, science, aliens, and the civilian world. So I hope that answers your question! =)

#bluboothalassophile #hello reader #ask me anything #ask me questions #feel free to ask questions #jayrae #in a nutshell

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noctispostmortem-blog · 6 years ago

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It had been a fun long evening together on the town. Alice had suggested they try going to a few museums and bar hop along the way. Summer was ending and the midnight breeze was crisp. Liam, like a gentleman, escorted Alice to her door. Sigh, the worst part of the evening… having to say good night and watch as he walked away. Would it be too much to ask him to come in and stay a little while? Even if they just chat… but Alice wouldn’t object if things got a little friskier than that. Speaking of which… perhaps the man had earned himself a little treat?

As they ascend the steps of her stoop, Alice turned to face Liam. Standing a few steps behind the short statured women, the two now stood face to face… almost. Let’s not give Alice that much credit.

“Now I’m as tall as you.”

Almost.

“You know…,” Alice begins to speak, gripping onto his waist and gently nudging the man closer, “There’s a little something that I think is overdue.” And why it took so long to get to this point? Alice didn’t know.

She takes a step forward, closing the gap between them, chest to chest. She could feel each cold breath he made, which seemed to only quicken.

Their blue eyes lock as Alice stands on her toes. One hand slowly slides up the back of his head, gently gripping him by his hair and pulling him down closer.

And she slips a kiss between his lips.

“I made it myself,” she whispers, “None if that fake wax chocolate.”

Hit me with your best kiss || @alicehart

Green eyes raise to gaze over at Alice when she turned to face him, a soft chuckle falling from his lips. He didn’t put up any sort of fight when she moved him closer, in fact, his hands may have found their way to her waist in return. He didn’t comment on the way it felt to have the warmth of her frame so close to his or the perfection that was her waist against the palm of his hands. A red brow rose at her words, a gleam within those deep eyes.

It shouldn’t have been as surprising at it was when their lips finally met, her warmth combined with the cold of his own was a rather alluring mix and nothing more than a tease of the many things this woman had to offer. The hands on her waist tighten just the slightest as he returned her kiss, one sliding around to wrap his strong arm around her and to pull her ever closer.

When she pulls away, his lips part to release a soft breath as he stared into those vivid blue eyes. He doesn’t let go, not just yet, instead he keeps his arm around her, admiring the woman he had slowly gotten to know of these past few months. There was just something about her that had drawn him in and he couldn’t seem to get enough. “Hm, I must say, those are the very best kind.”

He was tempted to lean in and steal another kiss from her, they were still so close and her soft lips were oh so kissable and ripe for the taking. However, Liam restrained himself, his arm slipping from around her back now to take residence upon her waist once more. “I must say, if this is how I can expect a night out with you to end, I might just have to do it more often.”

#{Alice and Liam}#{Letters of Inquiry || Addressed to Liam}#submission

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curliesallovertheplace · 7 years ago

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The New Princess - chapter 13

Pairing: Dean x reader, modern prince!Dean AU

Summary: You look exactly like the princess of Genieve who is promised to marry the prince of your country, Prince Dean. But what happens if the princess doesn’t want to marry him and meets you, her look-a-like?

Words: 3200ish

Warnings: nada, maybe a few swear words

A/N: Hiya friends! The next chapter is finally here! A little late, like always, but who would I be if I posted this series regularly :P (I know, I’m the worst). I hope you enjoy this one and make sure to leave a like and a comment if you liked this chapter! Love y’all!

Previous chapter | The New Princess Masterlist

A deep breath in and out made you calm down. With a fake smile plastered on your face you approached them. “Hi Dean, I’m back from mission Charlie. It went a-okay.” You placed your hands possessively on his arm, making clear the woman should keep her hands off of him without saying a word.

“Good to hear,” the Prince grinned before turning his attention back to the mysterious lady. “Ellie, let me introduce you to Lisa Braeden, Countess of Havenland. Lisa, this is Ellie.” It was his attempt to start an easy going conversation, breaking the awkward atmosphere.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, Ellie. Dean has told me a lot of things about you.” You bit your lip in order to not blurt out a snarky comment about how it was Elizabeth to her, not Ellie or about the fact that she casually called the Prince ‘Dean’.

You smiled up at the man next to you. “Is that so? Only good things I hope,” you joked lightly. Lisa laughed along, reassuring you of Dean’s good words. As the conversation went on, you felt like they were holding back something, the tension in the air tangible. “You seem very friendly with Dean. How do you know each other?” you pried casually. Well, you tried to make it sound casual, but really you were just nosy. Dean and Lisa locked gazes, their smiles faltering ever so slightly.

“Dean and I, we used to date,” the woman said without hesitation. She failed to hold back a smirk as she gauged your reaction. “Before he started dating you, of course,” she added quickly.

You looked up at the Prince curiously. “Yeah, that happened,” he cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck.

“The past is the past, right?” you shrugged lighthearted. You didn’t grant her the satisfaction of seeing you hurt or annoyed by this new revelation.

Dean nodded, snaking his arm around your waist. He soon wrapped up the conversation, clearly uncomfortable himself, and guided you towards the other side of the room. “You jealous?” he smirked. “Because I love when women fight over me.” You lightly smacked his chest.

“I’m not jealous.” Dean looked down at you, his eyebrows raised in disbelief. “Maybe a little okay?” you huffed. When he chuckled, you pushed against his side. “Stop teasing me. It’s a sign I care,” you shrugged.

“That’s why I like it so much,” he murmured, a gentle smile on his lips. A blush tinted your cheeks as you locked eyes with him. You didn’t reply to his comment, the colour of your face told him enough.

You cleared your throat before you changed to subject. “When are we going to dance?” It was a simple question, yet you got nervous at the mere thought of having to dance. You were a shitty dancer, your limbs not good at coordinating movements. You would probably look like a young foal standing on his legs for the first time. The Prince just frowned. “You know, big poofy ball gowns, cool folk dances that everyone seems to know, the whole shebang,” you smiled innocently.

Dean did a full body laugh, his shoulders shaking, his laugh booming through the room. He caught the attention of several other guests, but quickly regained his composure. “No such thing, sweetheart. Just plain old boring people standing stiff and still with a stick up their asses.”

“I know that, but still. It would be a lot more fun if they did,” you simply stated as you covered up your blunder.

Dean shook his head. “You watch way too many princess movies, princess,” he grinned. “But if you want to dance, I’m sure we can figure something out.”

With those words he pulled you closer to him, a charming smile adorning his face. He placed your left hand on his shoulder and held the other in his hand. His boldness seemed to disappear now you were standing this close to each other. He carefully laid his hand on the small of your back, right where the fabric of your dress ended, his thumb caressing your exposed skin. “I should probably warn you I’m a horrible dancer,” he uttered dead serious.

“Well, I’m not any better so I’m fine with swaying side to side,” you smiled up at him. It was a surprise to you that you were still able to form cohesive sentences. The proximity of the Prince made your head spin and your knees buckle. Your body was on fire where it was pressed up against him. His smell invaded your senses and he was all you could think about. You were completely consumed by him and you didn’t mind it one bit.

You attempted to take back control over your body, willing your entire being to compose itself. The flush in your cheeks finally died down, until you made the mistake of looking up into his green emerald eyes. Those would be the death of you. They shone with the light of the chandeliers, bright eyes staring back at you shamelessly. You couldn’t take your gaze off of him, not even if you wanted too. He brought your right hand closer to his mouth and kissed the back of it. The coos and awws didn’t faze you, the reactions of people surrounding you all blocked out.

“We are so adorable,” Dean chuckled after a quick glance around. “Follow my lead,” he whispered. He let go of you, your left hand falling from his shoulder as he took a step back, your right hand lying loosely in his. He lifted your joined hands and made you twirl elegantly before he pulled you closer again.

“Not a good dancer, my ass,” you huffed. “That was fucking impressive.”

Dean smirked victoriously. “And I love myself a woman that can swear like a sailor,” he joked, earning a pinkish blush from your side. With the little alcohol rushing through your veins, you had lost your filter.

Your moment ended abruptly when king John’s spokesman called for attention. With a nod the king took over the microphone and addressed his guests. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for coming to the celebration of princess Jessica her birthday. Dinner is to be served soon. Please follow the servants towards the dining hall and take a seat at the tables.” The doors to what you assumed was the dining hall opened just when the king’s speech ended. The guests slowly strolled through the doors, entering the immense room, tables lined up next to each other. People looked for their name and sat down in their respective chairs. As expected you were sat next to Dean along with your and his family. It didn’t take long before the courses started coming out and the clattering of cutlery against the porcelain plates echoed through the dining hall.

After the meal some guests started to leave while others moved back to the ball room or stayed put in the dining hall. “Wanna go for a dance?” a slightly tipsy Dean asked. You nodded, already feeling the alcohol go straight to your brain, your head spinning slightly as you stood up. You tried to stifle your giggles and maintain your composure while you sauntered into the adjacent space. Yeah, you were beyond tipsy, on the borderline of being drunk. “Those cocktails were full with heavy liquor, weren’t they?” you mumbled, your words dragging on a tad longer than usual. The Prince just laughed as he held you close to him. Just like before you swayed side to side. Dean occasionally attempted to twirl you around, but the combination of your clumsiness and the alcohol running through both of your veins made it a lot more complicated. If it hadn’t been for his strong arms, you would have definitely experienced the laws of gravity, perhaps having an intimate moment with the floor.

The buzz in the ballroom and dining hall slowly died down until there were only a handful of guests left. You covered your mouth with your hand as you yawned, your eyes droopy with exhaustion.

“We should probably go to bed,” the Prince suggested. You nodded sleepily in response. A quick goodbye to Sam and his fiancée later and you and Dean were strolling through the castle towards your chambers. Like the gentleman he is, he dropped you off right in front of your room.

“This is me,” you chuckled, pointing at the wooden doors behind you.

Dean dropped his head, smiling at the ground. “You know, sweetheart, you’re really not that bad.” He tucked a loose strand behind your ear and let his palm rest against your cheek. “We used to never get along, but I might even start liking you. A lot.” The last words were barely audible. If you hadn’t seen his lips move, you might think it was just your alcohol induced state making it up. “Goodnight, Ellie,” he smiled as he placed a kiss on your flaming red cheek. You barely got out a goodnight before he turned around and disappeared through the maze of corridors, his path lit by numerous chandeliers.

It wasn’t until he was out of sight that his words sunk in. Your heart was racing, your stomach tight, your mind in a haze of happiness. He liked you. A lot. The pure excitement came crashing down when you replayed his next phrase, joy replaced by disappointment. ‘Goodnight, Ellie.’ Not goodnight, Y/N, but Ellie. He didn’t like you. He liked the idea of you pretending to be Ellie. You scolded yourself for letting this get to you, reminding yourself all of this wasn’t real. With mixed feelings you pushed open the door towards your room and quickly got ready for bed. Thanks to the alcohol you were knocked out the moment your head touched the pillow, not having to mull over Dean’s words.

A distant noise made your head throb, pain flashing through and alternating with a dull ache. The sound became louder until you felt like your skull was going to explode if the ringing didn’t stop. You rubbed a hand across your face and felt a sticky liquid next to your mouth. You made a disgusted face once you figured out what it was. Yup, you had drooled all over the place. And the throbbing off your head? Good morning hangover! The annoying jingle didn’t falter and you soon realized it was your phone. As fast as your hungover self could tolerate, you climbed out of bed and fished the phone from your backpack. The bag was lying in a corner of the room. You didn’t remember leaving it there but shrugged your shoulders. Your memory was shit when you had a hangover.

You squinted your eyes, trying to focus on the letters dancing on your screen. The moment you puzzled the signs together to form a name, you slid your finger across the screen and answered the phone call. “Hey, Ellie,” you mumbled.

“Hi, Y/N,” she cheered. You pulled the phone from your ear as her excited greeting made your headache ten times worse. With one touch you put her on speakerphone and laid your mobile on the nightstand before you crawled back under the covers.

“Ellie, calm down. I have a hangover,” you shushed her. An ‘oh’ was all you got in response. “Why are you calling?” It was way too early in the morning for you to have a decent conversation while your stomach was turning and your head was throbbing. A glance at your alarm clock told you it was nearly eleven am, but still. Too early to sleep through a hangover.

“I’m calling because Cas and I are finally getting married.” You quickly sat up and stared at the lit up screen. At that statement you were feeling all kinds of things. First of all happiness for the pair. Your mission had succeeded. Well nearly succeeded, but the plan had worked. True love would win, you smiled to yourself. And let’s not forget, you could go home.

But going home also meant leaving all of this behind. No more Charlie and Jo, no more Julian and most important of all, no more Dean. You pushed away your sadness and disappointment at that thought. You wanted to get this over with from the beginning, now when you could finally leave, it was not the time to get emotional. So you sucked it up.

“That’s amazing. When?” you tried to reply in the most happy tone you could muster.

“Tomorrow. 2 pm. We have finally arranged everything from a little church to a priest who wants to marry us officially. Your mom is even cooking us a nice meal. Not exactly a banquet though,” she chuckled. “And the dress, Y/N, the dress! It’s beautiful,” she sighed in pure bliss.

“Please tell me that Charlie, Jo and me can watch the wedding? Make my mom facetime it or something,” you suggested, not wanting to miss a single thing. You were putting up this facade and basically committing treason for this wedding so you better be a guest, even though it would be through a screen.

“Of course!” Ellie exclaimed. “Maybe you can get some flowers to throw it at the screen, make it feel like you are all here with us.” It was quiet on her end of the line. “Y/N, I want to thank you again for doing this. These past few days have been the best of my life. Not having to worry about people finding out, being able to hold Cas… I have never been happier.”

You smiled at her confession, proud that all of this had been possible because of you. “It’s totally fine, Ellie. Everyone deserves a chance at love, no matter how impossible it may seem at first.” The last sentence wasn’t only directed at the princess. It was a pep talk for yourself as well. You hoped the words had a truth in them and that your friendship or whatever you had with Dean wouldn’t be thrown away the moment you stepped through the gates of the palace.

You and Ellie said your goodbyes before you locked your phone and threw it haphazardly on the nightstand. Stumbles right outside of your room vaguely caught your attention, but you shrugged it off. You wrapped yourself in your blankets, ignoring the noise and going back to sleep.

Around one in the afternoon Charlie and Jo dragged you out of bed. You were haggard. The extra few hours of sleep hadn’t helped one bit. The redhead thankfully offered you some aspirin to relieve the headache that accompanied your hangover. Once the painkiller kicked in, your friends helped you get ready for the day. A quick breakfast later and you were strolling through the corridors of the palace with Charlie and Jo by your side.

“Ellie,” a man called out the princess’s name. “Ellie, wait up.” You turned around on your heels to face the man, being met by the tall frame of prince Sam.

You smiled up at the royal. “Hi, Sam,” you greeted him.

“Uh-Can we talk, maybe?” he said in a low voice, his eyes scanning the hallway. The corridor was empty except for a few guards, the two of you and your friends.

You frowned at his words. “Talk about what?”

Sam chuckled as he scratched the back of his neck. That seemed to be a family trait, a tell that the Winchester princes were uncomfortable or nervous. “Well you are going to marry my brother and we never really got the time to get to know each other.”

“Sure,” you nodded. Charlie and Jo waved you goodbye before walking away. Sam guided the way towards the gardens in search of more privacy, making some small talk on the way there.

The moment you stepped outside the walls of the palace Sam’s demeanor seemed to shift, but you ignored it, greeting the guards at the doors. It wasn’t until you were out of sight from the guards’ eyes that Sam halted you and turned you to face him. His expression was harsh and cold as he looked down at you. The gentle giant’s eyes pierced into yours, using his full height to tower over you.

“You okay?” you carefully asked while looking around for anyone else. The feeling of doom was settling in your stomach and you wanted to run away from the prince even though you didn't know what was going to happen next. You knew it wouldn't be good.

Sam huffed, rolling his eyes at you. “I could ask you the same thing, Ellie,” he said and he stressed the princess’s name. You still weren’t following him and his mood changes, but your mind was slowly catching up, realisation dawning on you. Sam noticed how your eyes widened ever so slightly and how your breath quickened. Your body blew whatever was left of your cover. “You’re not Ellie, are you? A little bird told me your name is Y/N. Is that true?” he asked, his voice monotone, no emotion showing through.

Your eyes nearly popped out of your skull in surprise even though you had felt it coming. It wasn’t until the words left his mouth that it became real. Your body didn't move an inch as panic rushed through your veins, your mouth suddenly dry, your throat blocked. “I-I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you stuttered, voice shaking as you felt petrified, trying desperately to save your cover. No no no, this can’t be happening right now, you screamed on the inside. The alarms were going off in your head and you didn’t register anything the prince had to say. Your ears were ringing, your vision blurry, your breathing labored as you felt a panic attack building up. It was like your life came crumbling down in front of you while you tried to mend the pieces back together. “How do you know?” you whispered over and over again. You didn’t answer Sam’s questions, tears rolling down your face involuntarily.

You barely registered his answer. “One of my servants found an old backpack lying around as he cleaned your room and he is kind of nosy. He found a locket with a picture of you and two other people in it, home engraved on the back. I thought nothing of it at first. Maybe it were good friends at the castle. Then Crowley showed a particular interest in you last night and I started to wonder why. He’s not a fan of the monarchy, I know, but he’s usually more subtle with spewing around his hatred. It wasn’t until one of my most loyal servants, assigned to you while you’re staying here, heard the conversation you had with Ellie on the phone this morning that it all clicked together. Your weird behavior, the locket, Crowley being insufferably nice, yet blunt when it comes to you.”

You didn’t say a word, too baffled by the imposing figure in front of you and his accusations. “Sam, please,” you muttered.

“Prince Sam,” he threw back.

“I'm so sorry, your highness. I never wanted any of this,” you cried.

“How did you do it?” was all he asked. “You better start explaining, because if anyone else finds out, you’ll be accused of treason.” You sobbed and wiped away your tears. You were glad you were sat on the bench, your whole body weak. A glance up told you the prince was serious, demanding an answer right now. Where were you going to start?

Next chapter coming soon

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lillianfromaccounting · 7 years ago

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Happy birthday Katie!

To one of my partners in crime @katiekeysburg, even though you’re moving across the country, I’m happy for you and I hope it’ll bring all the fun and growth that you want.

Note: I wrote most of this over the last year and a half or so. I’ve had snippets in draft forever. I knocked out the last part tonight and I promise I’ll actually write out some of the events that I glossed over in this. I really hope you like it. I really love this universe. (To everyone else, sorry, there’s a ton of inside jokes that no one else will get. This is a fic for Katie. I don’t even know why I’m posting it publicly).

Malted - First Anniversary and Charlie’s Proposal

Billy walked into Malted and was greeted by Niall, the young Simon Pegg lookalike.

“Ms. Billy, where would you like to sit tonight?” he asked.

“The usual, Niall,” she replied.

“Of course,” he said, leading her to her seat at the bar.

“The lovely Ms. Billy,” Victor, the bartender who looked like Enver greeted, “I have just the drink for you!” He muddled up some herbs and fruit in a glass and poured a concoction out of a chilled shaker. “I call it Billy’s Sunrise.” The muddled fruit on the bottom of the glass gave it a cloudy look, while the liquid above seemed to weave between shades of sepia, red, and orange.

“That’s beautiful, Victor! I don’t know if I could drink that...oh, who am I kidding? Of course, I could drink that. Thank you!” She took a sip of the drink and closed her eyes, savoring all the flavors. She opened her eyes to find a tall, blonde gentleman standing to her right.

“May I have this seat?” he asked.

“Of course. It’s a free country,” she replied.

“I’ll have what she’s having,” he said to Victor. “You come here often?”

“Not as often as I would like, but often enough,” she responded.

“How about you and I blow this popsicle stand and run off into the sunset?”

“Oh, I don’t think my boyfriend would appreciate that too much.”

“Yeah? I can probably take him. I’d give a good fight.”

“I might pay to see that...so what are we talking, Steve Rogers vs. Johnny Storm? I’m not sure who’d win that one, actually.”

“Cap always wins,” Chris said.

“But the fire…”

“Cap always wins.”

“What about...Lucas Lee vs. Curtis?”

“Well...Lucas Lee got beat by Michael Cera, so really, I’m going to have to go with Curtis on that one.”

“But Curtis is dead.”

“Presumed dead.”

“I could start a bracket with this…”

“Doesn’t matter. Cap always wins. This drink is amazing by the way. Fantastic job, Victor!”

“I’m glad you like it,” Victor replied.

Chris clinked Billy’s glass, “Happy anniversary.”

“Happy anniversary,” she replied, sipping her drink.

Chris laced his fingers with hers and squeezed firmly before letting go. He wanted nothing more at that moment than to kiss her, to show her how much she meant to him, but they had an understanding. Public displays of affection just don’t come with this territory and he was grateful that she was extremely understanding about it. Still, there were times when he couldn’t help himself, so he would squeeze her hand and look into her eyes. She would return his gaze with her usual whimsy and knowing. Somehow, the quick exchange would be enough to reassure him of her affection, but more so, it reminded him of her constant patience since they had gotten back together that night in Hoboken.

It has been a surreal year since the bizarre night of Katie’s birthday.

While Chris and Billy only reunited in February, Charlie and Katie might as well had been picking out china patterns, even though neither were the type to pick out china patterns. The summer had brought lots of family parties. Chris and Billy celebrated their birthday with a whiskey pool party, where Chris and Charlie met half the Klutz family and close friends. They all spent Fourth of July up in Boston, where Billy and the kids met Chris’ family and Charlie got an earful from the rest of the Klutzes. The boys each supported Katie at a highland game into the fall, with Scotty and Ben attending most of them. In fact, earlier that day, Katie ran a demonstration out in Long Island.

Chris watched as Katie lifted the caber, moved a few steps to regain her balance, and then threw it forward in a way that flipped the log straight in front of her before it landed on the grass.

“Wow, she's a beast,” he said.

“She can probably squat the both of us combined. She puts me to shame at the gym,” Charlie said, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

There was a large crowd for this demonstration, and the boys hoped their sunglasses, ball caps, and beards would be enough to keep them incognito. They were also dressed in plain white t-shirts and black shorts, as if they had just come from a workout themselves.

“Look at that form. That's amazing,” Chris praised.

“You're ogling my girlfriend.” Charlie cleared his throat.

“I'm admiring,” Chris corrected.

“Billy's form isn't too bad either. Have you ever done yoga with her? She can really stretch those hip flexors,” Charlie teased.

Chris turned and glared at Charlie. “Why are you checking out my girlfriend's hip flexors?”

“It's purely for scientific reasons, I assure you. Scott was there too.”

“Man, you guys hang out with my girl more than I do.”

“Your schedule is pretty daunting. I don't get to see Katie during filming season and press tours, but most of the time, she's only a few hours away, sometimes less if I work the flights out right. We facetime a lot.”

“Yeah, we use Google hangouts almost every night. Thank god for technology,” Chris said, taking a sip of his beer.

“Have you considered settling down?”

Chris sighed as he considered his answer. “We've talked about it. It's complicated.”

“Because of the kids?”

“No. Yes. Sort of. I love them. They’re incredible. She won't leave the New York area. I get it; it’s not fair to uproot the kids, but I’m not ready to leave Massachusetts. It's neither here nor there.”

“You could maintain two homes. How much time do you really spend up in Boston anyway?”

“This is working out and neither of us is ready for the next thing yet.”

“Well, if it's working out for you folks. Speaking of the next thing, can you keep a secret? I'm going to propose.”

“What?! That's awesome. Congrats, man!!!” Chris pulled Charlie in for a tight hug.

“Don't congratulate me yet. I don’t know if she will say ‘yes’.”

“Oh she will! I see how you guys look at each other. Hell, I called it that first night. Ask Billy. I told her that I want an invite to your wedding.”

“Well, if all goes well, you'll be a groomsman. I mean, if you think about it, you were a major driving force the night we got together.”

Chris gave Charlie a big hug as Billy walked up to them.

“So this is what you two when Katie and I aren’t around, huh?” she said.

Chris pulled Billy into the group hug.

“I told Chris that I'm going to propose,” Charlie said.

“Oh good. Did you figure out when?” Billy’s voice was muffled by Chris’ chest.

“Wait, you knew about this and didn't tell me?” Chris said.

“He told me this morning. I was going to tell you when I saw you, which is now, but he beat me to it.”

“It's going to be in London, when we go over for Christmas holiday,” Charlie replied.

“I have to keep this secret for two more months?!” Chris said.

“You can do it, hon. If you can keep Marvel secrets for over a year, you can keep this secret for two months,” Billy took a step back and exaggerated her breathing.

“I had the fear of unemployment and death with the Marvel stuff,” Chris said.

“You’ll have worse to fear from me if you tell anyone about this,” Billy glared.

“This is going to be so exciting!! I love weddings!” Chris said, bouncing up and down.

New Year’s Eve. Tower of London.

“Are we going to be able to make it to your sister’s before midnight? The Ceremony of Keys ends at 10:05,” Katie said, hooking her arm into Charlie’s.

“Oh yes, we’ll have plenty of time. We’ll hire a cab, it’s a short ride,” Charlie reassured her.

“Won’t the roads be closed for the festivities?” she pressed.

“The drivers will know all that. Don’t worry, we’ll be fine. And if we end up ringing in the year in a cab, will that be the worst thing?” he asked, pressing his lips to her knuckles.

“No,” she cooed. “I don’t care where we ring in the new year as long as I’m with you.”

He smiled and tilted his head, gesturing towards where a crowd has gathered for the Ceremony of Keys.

“So what did you think of the Crown Jewels?” he asked.

“Not as impressive as I expected? Some of it was kinda gawdy. It’s just a flashy, my jewels are bigger than yours, display,” she replied.

“So you wouldn’t wear anything of that sort?” he asked.

“No.” She shook her head. “You’ve seen the type of stuff I wear. I like colors and nerdy pieces. Oh look, I think it’s about to start.”

Silence fell upon the crowd as a steady march echoed over them.

One sentry cried out, “Halt, who comes there?”

The Yeoman Warder replied, “The keys.”

Charlie gave Katie’s hand a squeeze.

“Whose keys?” the sentry asked.

“Queen Elizabeth’s keys,” the Yeoman Warder replied.

“Pass then, all’s well,” the sentry said.

The echo of the footsteps receded quietly away.

“That was cool,” Katie said, turning to find Charlie on a knee. “Did you drop something?”

“Katie,” Charlie said in an even voice. “Katherine. It’s been a whirlwind of a year since we met at Malted. Not a day goes by where I don’t think about what might have happened if I hadn’t joined you guys, if I had just left through the back door as I normally do when someone recognizes me at the bar. I am so grateful that I didn’t. I��m so grateful that Billy sat down and convinced me to join your party, because this past year has been incredible.

“I thought I knew what love was, but you have opened my eyes to commitment and so much more. I find myself wanting to learn something new about you every day. I like who I am when I’m with you. I strive to be that person every day now and I guess what I’m trying to say is that--that I want to be that person--I want to be with you for the rest of our lives. What do you say, Katherine, will you marry me?”

He held out a black velvet box with an ornate ring. The center stone was a small sapphire with round diamonds surrounding it on a gold band.

Katie’s hand had been over her mouth during the entire speech, trying not to let her emotions get the best of her.

Charlie crinkled his eyes and tilted his head slightly, trying to read her expression.

The lump in her throat prevented her from speaking, so she just nodded. “Yes,” she managed to whisper.

The crowd around them erupted in a roar of applause. Katie startled, having forgotten that they were even there, but smiled politely at the passersby who congratulated the couple and wished them well.

After putting the ring on Katie’s finger, Charlie got up on his feet. He looked into those beautiful eyes of hers and then pulled her in close to him. He pressed his lips against hers. Katie’s arms wrapped around his neck, her hands running through his hair, preventing him from doing that thing where he breaks the kiss to make her kiss him back. They stood there, as one, until a guard coughed loudly.

“I’m sorry to have to cut your celebration here, but we are closing,” the old man said.

Charlie finally broke the kiss. Not taking his eyes off of Katie, he responded to the guard, “Thank you. We’re leaving now.”

As they walked out one of the exits of the Tower of London, Katie stopped Charlie.

“So are we still going to your sister’s now?” Katie asked.

“Yes, so we can tell the family!” Charlie said.

“Did they know about your plans to propose?”

“No. Yes. They knew I was going to ask during this trip, just not when,” he said.

“What if I had said no?” she asked.

“Well, then it would have been an awkward new year’s party!” he laughed. He leaned in and kissed her ever so softly. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Katie replied.

#fanfic #katiekeysburg #happy birthday katie #newtricks36 #malted #i write tropes and cliches #mine #i should really write this in order #this would probably be like chapter six or thereabouts #i hope you like it #have some beer and poutine for me!#she's responsible for me joining this hell site #so you can thank her for that

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dramyhsturgis · 7 years ago

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On Lestrade, Conan Doyle, and Sherlock

It’s time to revisit this, I think.

In recent trips back through Arthur Conan Doyle's works featuring Sherlock Holmes, I've been thinking of the character trajectories across the stories, especially regarding Holmes's relationship to Lestrade (less celebrated that the brilliant Holmes-Watson partnership, but nonetheless fascinating).

"We All Three Shook Hands" by Sidney Paget, 1902 (L to R: Lestrade, Holmes, and Watson)

My thoughts are based on looking at the novels and short stories in internal chronological order (wherever it can be determined), not publication order.

Holmes

Point the First: Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes is quite capable of being obnoxious in the BBC's Sherlock Cumberbatchian sense. Perhaps one of the worst affronts appears in "The Boscombe Valley Mystery" (set in 1889), in which Holmes plays his "Lestrade's So Stupid That He Wouldn't Understand X" game. The example he chooses, however, 1) is one that Watson doesn't comprehend either and, more to the point, 2) is one predicated on Holmes's own knowledge of Watson's daily grooming habits gained only by the fact he's lived with Watson for years. Of course Lestrade wouldn't reach Holmes's conclusion: he's never lived with Watson, and thus he has no access to that data! The entire exercise is just an excuse for Holmes to show off, not an honest assessment of Lestrade's abilities. Holmes is none too gentle with delivering the insulting conclusion of his reasoning, for that matter, and thus he humiliates Watson. If Lestrade (or Watson) appears to get short-tempered with Holmes now and again, it's not unwarranted.

Point the Second and the More Important: Holmes shows rather compelling character development over the years (and here I'm reminded of the great man/good man point articulated by Lestrade in Sherlock), and it's instructive to watch this unfold through his relationship with Lestrade. [1]

In "The Five Orange Pips" (set in 1887), when Watson asks if their unknown visitor might be a friend of Holmes, Holmes replies: "Except yourself I have none," he answered. "I do not encourage visitors." [2]

Yet in that same year, Holmes's professional familiarity with Lestrade leads him to treat the Inspector not as a guest who requires formal hospitality, but rather as a regular visitor free to consider himself welcome and make himself at home (in "The Adventure of the Noble Bachelor"):

"Good-afternoon, Lestrade! You will find an extra tumbler upon the sideboard, and there are cigars in the box."

In Holmes's letter to Watson in "The Final Problem" (set in 1891), Holmes admits that he has "friends" (plural) who will feel "pain" at his loss.

In "The Adventure of the Empty House" (set in 1894), Holmes identifies Lestrade -- in front of both Holmes's would-be murderer Colonel Sebastian Moran and, for the very first time, Lestrade himself -- as "my friend Lestrade." (He refers to Lestrade as "friend Lestrade" multiple times thereafter.)[3]

By "The Adventure of the Six Napoleons" (set in 1900), Holmes regularly welcomes Lestrade's social visits (above and beyond professional meetings about their joint work on a case) with a drop-by-unannounced intimacy usually reserved for one's closest friends and family.

It was no very unusual thing for Mr. Lestrade, of Scotland Yard, to look in upon us of an evening, and his visits were welcome to Sherlock Holmes, for they enabled him to keep in touch with all that was going on at the police headquarters. In return for the news which Lestrade would bring, Holmes was always ready to listen with attention to the details of any case upon which the detective was engaged, and was able occasionally, without any active interference, to give some hint or suggestion drawn from his own vast knowledge and experience.

On this particular evening, Lestrade had spoken of the weather and the newspapers. Then he had fallen silent, puffing thoughtfully at his cigar. Holmes looked keenly at him.

“Anything remarkable on hand?” he asked. “Oh, no, Mr. Holmes–nothing very particular.” “Then tell me about it.” Lestrade laughed.

In the same story, Holmes even takes pains to consider Lestrade's personal comfort, after he's asked the Inspector to lengthen an already long day by accompanying him on a late-night expedition. Without prompting, Holmes offers food and a nap with easy familiarity:

“You'll dine with us, Lestrade, and then you are welcome to the sofa until it is time for us to start.”

Lestrade

Lestrade is practical throughout -- he bristles at insults and scorns the thought of trusting theorizing over legwork, and yet he proves willing to admit his own mistakes from the very first ("I freely confess that I was of the opinion that Stangerson was concerned in the death of Drebber. This fresh development has shown me that I was completely mistaken..." in A Study in Scarlet, set in 1881) -- but it's clear that the no-nonsense pragmatism of his relations with Holmes grows into genuine warmth and affection over time. Beyond the above examples, there are others.

By the time of The Hound of the Baskervilles (probably set in 1888 or 1889, though possibly as late as 1899 or 1900), Holmes is requesting Lestrade's presence ("He is the best of the professionals, I think, and we may need his assistance," Holmes tells Watson), and Watson can see just how their chemistry has matured:

The London express came roaring into the station, and a small, wiry bulldog of a man had sprung from a first-class carriage. We all three shook hands, and I saw at once from the reverential way in which Lestrade gazed at my companion that he had learned a good deal since the days when they had first worked together. I could well remember the scorn which the theories of the reasoner used then to excite in the practical man.

"The Adventure of the Norwood Builder" (set in 1894 or 1895) shows a friendly competition between Holmes and Lestrade in which each teases and mocks the other when the facts seem to fit his theory. (At one point, Holmes confesses to Watson, "...upon my soul, I believe for once the fellow is on the right track and we are on the wrong.") But Lestrade is "a practical man," as he admits, and when Holmes ultimately reveals the definitive truth with much added (and arguably unnecessary) drama, Lestrade reacts not with hurt pride or wounded ego, but genuine appreciation. (He also immediately gives credit where credit is due, telling the culprit, "You have done your best to get an innocent man hanged. If it wasn't for this gentleman here, I am not sure that you would not have succeeded.") The physical response from the normally reserved Holmes when Lestrade offers his gratitude speaks volumes:

"... I don't mind saying, in the presence of Dr. Watson, that this is the brightest thing that you have done yet, though it is a mystery to me how you did it. You have saved an innocent man's life, and you have prevented a very grave scandal, which would have ruined my reputation in the Force."

Holmes smiled, and clapped Lestrade upon the shoulder.

And then of course there's the justifiably famous exchange in "The Adventure of the Six Napoleons" (set in 1900):

“Well,” said Lestrade, “I’ve seen you handle a good many cases, Mr. Holmes, but I don’t know that I ever knew a more workmanlike one than that. We’re not jealous of you at Scotland Yard. No, sir, we are very proud of you, and if you come down to-morrow, there’s not a man, from the oldest inspector to the youngest constable, who wouldn’t be glad to shake you by the hand.”

“Thank you!” said Holmes. “Thank you!” and as he turned away, it seemed to me that he was more nearly moved by the softer human emotions than I had ever seen him.

Note: It's no wonder why Holmes might rely on the tenacious Inspector (in addition to his always-worthy Watson) in a situation that has the potential for real danger, such as in The Hound of the Baskervilles. After all, Lestrade proves time and again willing to confront the villains by himself without backup, including Joseph Stangerson in A Study in Scarlet and James Browner in "The Adventure of the Cardboard Box." For that matter, although he's the slightest man physically in a room of five, Lestrade is the one to bring down the "so powerful and so fierce" Jefferson Hope by "half-strangling" him in A Study in Scarlet. Holmes underscores his trust in the Inspector by calling upon Lestrade once again in "The Adventure of the Empty House," in this case to assist in the capture of the vengeful Colonel Sebastian Moran.

Random Musings Related to ACD Canon and the BBC's Sherlock

According to my calculations (which I'm happy to explain and be corrected upon), there was approximately a fifteen-year spread between ACD's Sherlock Holmes and Inspector Lestrade, with John Watson and Mycroft Holmes in the middle. If you take the ages of the four male leads in Sherlock, there is a fourteen-year spread between the youngest (Benedict Cumberbatch) and the eldest (Rupert Graves), with Martin Freeman and Mark Gatiss in the middle.

Also according to my calculations, at the time of ACD's "The Adventure of the Empty House," Sherlock Holmes was 40, John Watson was 41 and nearing 42, Mycroft Holmes was 47, and Inspector Lestrade was approximately 55. As for BBC's Sherlock, at the time of the filming of the third-series episode "The Empty Hearse," this puts Martin Freeman and Mark Gatiss at the perfect ages, and Benedict Cumberbatch and Rupert Graves equally four-five years younger than their respective characters.

I wonder if the naming of Sherlock's Molly Hooper is a nod to Molly Robertson-Kirk, a.k.a. "Lady Molly of Scotland Yard" (who was, after all, a contemporary of Sherlock Holmes).

I suspect that Sherlock's "Greg Lestrade" wasn't originally intended to be short for "Gregory Lestrade," but rather for "Gregson Lestrade." In this way, Moffat and Gatiss could seamlessly combine Inspectors Lestrade and Gregson, who are identified by ACD's Holmes as, among the Scotland Yard professionals, "the pick of a bad lot. They are both quick and energetic, but conventional — shockingly so." (A Study in Scarlet) This theory may have been Jossed by the Steve Thompson-penned third episode of the second series (in which Lestrade is cut off as he's trying to explain that other D.I.s have consulted Sherlock besides him, and names Gregson as he's interrupted). The full implications of this throwaway mention of Gregson is as yet unclear.

[1] There are other interesting character changes Holmes exhibits, including his evolving thoughts on justice vs. law and means vs. ends, but I'm particularly thinking of his personal, non-Watsonian relationships at present.

[2] It's perhaps worth pointing out that Holmes describes Watson as "not a man with intimate friends" (save, Holmes implies, himself) in The Hound of the Baskervilles.

[3] Interestingly enough, Watson begins referring to Lestrade as "our old friend Lestrade" in works set in 1894 and 1895, including "The Adventure of the Norwood Builder" and "The Adventure of the Bruce-Partington Plans."

#lestrade #sherlock holmes #john watson #g lestrade #greg lestrade #di lestrade #arthur conan doyle #sherlock

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my-fanfic-soul · 7 years ago

Text

No Need to Regret: Ch. 19

From the Beginning

The car ride home was a slow blur. I felt like there was a roaring in my ears and I couldn’t focus on anything else. I wasn't raised religious, but I can't count how many times since he walked into our lives that I'd prayed he'd leave. That god, I can handle my mother but please take this monster away from me. I'd get hopeful when he was late coming home from work, hoping he'd decided to just leave without a warning. Over the years I had given up the very thought but now here we were. If there is a god, he's taken his sweet time getting around to answering prayers.

Abi told me over the chaos happening in my head that from what she had gathered, apparently things had been getting worse and worse at my mom’s house for the past two months. The frustration of not having access to money from my relationship with a rich man was a constant source of anger for Mike and the lack of information to sell to magazines made him even angrier.

They had tried to weasel information from my younger siblings, but nothing had worked. They hadn’t known enough for it to be juicy. They contacted one of my exes, the one that works for the university newspaper, but he only knew what was already public information. They had even tried to call my work and get Samantha to fire me or garnish my wages to send to them, but she had refused (and apparently neglected to tell me as well).

With any access to my nonexistent money, Mike had even sunk to the level of telling my mom that he refused to pay for anything regarding “her brats,” that she should be trying harder to get money from me. Naturally, this caused even more fights between the two of them because I wasn’t playing along with their demands and one of the things Mom loved the most about him was his paycheck.

On top of their growing arguments about money, there was growing tension from the lack of a break from the kids. They weren’t getting their every other weekend free because they were refusing to send the kids to my dad on the off chance I’d get to see them. They didn’t get their two-week break over Christmas and they were home all day since school was out. They didn’t even get a reprieve when they went to sports because Mike was refusing to pay for anything not offered through the school.

It was easier when I was still at home, but Noe spends so much time at school he’s rarely around to “parent” the younger kids and Bethany can’t stop Ethan and Olivia from bickering. She can’t even completely stop herself from bickering with them, which draws Mike’s attention, which leads to more yelling, and it continues to cycle that way.

It all came to a head when Mike saw the shots of me and Niall celebrating New Year’s together in New York. He had never bargained for raising seven children and the fact I had gone to New York City by myself with Niall must have made it look like they had lost all control over me. Him and Mom fought over her inability to get me back into line and he told her he was gone. He was out of the house by the next day and Mom had been in a downward spiral ever since.

If I had thought that would mean better things for me and my siblings, I was quickly proven wrong. When my phone had finally caught up from being turned off for so long, my voicemail was full of my mom screaming at me. Abi was right, she did blame me for Mike leaving and had no intent of changing her stance on me getting to see them. If I had just gotten in line, he’d still be there. If I had just sent them money or given them information or items Niall had touched to sell, her husband wouldn’t have filed for divorce. If I had just been less selfish, my siblings would still have a ‘father figure.’

“We both know he wasn’t a father in any way, shape, or form. I would be a better dad, and I’m twenty-somethin’ and spend my life never being in the same place for longer than a week,” Niall commented over Skype after I let him listen to the latest of my mom’s voicemails. He had insisted on wanting to hear them, too. He said it was because he wanted to be in the loop on what was going wrong, but I knew it was because he was making it his mission to make sure I knew how wrong she was about everything she said to me.

Flipping back to my voicemail page, I said, “Just wait. That’s not even the worst of them from yesterday.”

Niall was shaking his head. “I still can’t believe that they’re blaming all of this on you. In what world would they be able to get what want out of you?”

“A word of advice? Never try to find the logic in what my parents say or do. It’s a lost cause. There’s no logic to be found.” Before I hit play on the next crazy message from my mother, I said, “It was never a strong relationship, anyway. They always fought, he was always suspicious, and she was always just a little too clingy. That doesn’t matter to them, though. They’ve never claimed responsibility for anything in their life. Something would have been the catalyst eventually, and they always would have found someone to blame. It doesn’t matter if their logic is convoluted and has no basis in truth.”

A week later, I found out just how little logic my mother was working with.

The morning had dawned cold and rainy, the perfect combination to make me want to stay cuddled up in bed and never move again. It hadn’t been aided by Niall’s text talking about how much he missed me and how he was dreaming of being holed up in our New York hotel together, again. The only thing that got me out of bed and into the shower was that work meant money and money meant getting to live, so I crawled out from between my warm sheets, made breakfast, and trudged my way to work.

Normally, I would have stopped for a coffee first, but my extended stay in bed meant that I strolled into the museum just as it was time for me to clock in. “Cutting it a little close today, are we?” Samantha asked as she looked up at me from the table in the staff room with a coy look on her face. “That Irish gentleman of yours keeping you up too late?”

I felt my face go red as I shook my head. This was the first time she had been in since I had come back from New York. “No, he’s not even here. I was just too cold to function this morning.”

“It wasn’t too cold in New York?”

I probably could have functioned as a stop sign with how red my face was turning. I was putting fire trucks to shame. I had only told Brad and Abi where I was going, and I assumed the worst about Samantha finding out where I had been. It would mean she had seen the pictures, and if she had seen the pictures that most likely meant she knew my boyfriend wasn’t a low level which meant I could kiss my peaceful days at work goodbye. “How did you…?”

Samantha smirked as she got up to put her coffee mug in the sink. “Apparently even bottom of the chain actors deserve a little bit of paparazzi fame somewhere besides in the Austin area. I saw the pictures of you two locking lips on New Year’s Eve.”

“Of course, you did…” I mutter as I reach for the coffee maker myself. I knew that pictures had made it online and into magazines, for some reason I had just figured that people wouldn’t notice them unless they were specifically searching for it, like my parents and One Direction fans.

From there we talked about what I had seen in NYC and how her winter holidays had gone. She had been in Washington visiting her daughter since a few days before Christmas and was full of humorous stories of her adventures in the Northwest. It was a slow morning, which was to be expected, and things were going well. I thought that was the end of the conversations about my love life and that the rest of the day would be smooth sailing.

Around 11, Joe came in with a concerned look on his face. This wasn’t unusual, Joe was a worrier on the best of days. The unusual bit was that he seemed shocked when he saw me smiling at him. “Who pissed in your cheerios?” I asked him once he had dropped his stuff in the staff room and come back out to where we were looking through the catalog for an exhibit that was supposed to be shipping to us soon.

“The question is why you aren’t acting like anyone pissed in yours. I can’t believe you’re this relaxed,” he retorted as he slid onto a stool next to Samantha.

“Why wouldn’t she be relaxed? I run this place with the specific purpose of making it a relaxed atmosphere. I expect for the two of you to be so relaxed you fall asleep standing up while leading a group of third graders around this place,” Samantha teased.

Joe shook his head but kept his attention focused on me. “You really don’t know?” he asked.

My stomach started tying itself in knots as an ice-cold feeling filled my bones. “Don’t know what?” I asked and my voice sounded hollow, like it belonged to someone else. Whatever it was, I could feel that it was bad already.

He was shaking his head. “If you don’t know maybe I should tell you…”

“What’s wrong, Joe?”

He swallowed hard, but pulled his phone out of his pocket, opened it, and slid it across the counter to me. It was a news article. I couldn’t tell you which news source it was, because the only thing I could see was the bold printed title: Blinded by Love or Digging for Gold? Kendra Freeman’s mom spills about her daughter’s relationship with pop star Niall Horan.

I felt like I had stepped into a vacuum. All of the air in the room was gone and my chest felt like it was going to cave in on itself. “There’s nothing for her to spill,” I snapped. “She doesn’t know anything! I made sure I didn’t tell her…”

Joe shrugged apologetically. “She kinda used that to her advantage,” he said timidly, like he was worried I’d bite his head off or Hulk smash his phone.

I finally forced myself down to the article itself. She did a beautiful job of spinning her web to make nothing look like something while throwing me under the biggest bus she could imagine. She talked about how she, my poor innocent mother, knew nothing about our relationship because I had cut everyone off. That I refused to let him meet any of them and that I had become cold towards them since the relationship had started.

She talked about how I was self-centered as a person, and that as a mother it pained her to admit that she had gone wrong somewhere with me. That I was refusing to see my siblings and that they were suffering from my spoiled attitude. She went on to say that she didn’t blame Niall for my theatrics, that he was just a pawn in my scheme to become better than I am. She went as far as saying that Niall was the newest victim of my emotional abuse, that I was using him, and that she hoped he’d “see the light and realize that Kendra isn’t the angel he thinks she is.”

The writer added in that maybe I was just blinded by my new relationship and that I might come down from my self-centered ways after the new wore off, but it was such a small part of the article I knew it wouldn’t be the part anyone clung onto. 98% of it was catering to my mother’s image of me as a horrible person that took advantage of anyone that I could, from my doting parents, to my innocent siblings who were guilty of nothing but adoring me, and my new boyfriend who didn’t know me well enough to know about my parasitic ways.

The roaring in my ears was back and I barely made sense of Joe’s sympathetic expression and Samantha taking his phone from me before telling me to take an extended lunch. I felt like a zombie as I grabbed my bag and walked across campus. I felt like everyone was staring at me and talking about me, and yet I felt nothing at all.

I knew I should check my phone. I knew that Niall was probably blowing up my texts and voicemail by now. That it was possible that Harry and maybe even Abi were trying to get a hold of me, too, but I didn’t check. I couldn’t check. I knew they’d be beseeching me to ignore it. To not read the comments. To avoid social media until things had blown over. But I couldn’t do that. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t do that.

Just like the morning I met Niall, instinct more than thought brought me to the coffee shop. I stood outside the door, confused by the strong smell of coffee beans and how I had ended up here. I hadn’t had a goal at all other than to get away from the museum. But if I was here, I might as well take advantage of it.

When I walked into the coffee shop, I felt a mixture of warmth at the memories of being in the place where I had met Niall and frigidness because this was where my life had changed forever. Where my life had started down a path that I was not prepared for, but I could see no reasonable way out of. I wouldn’t trade Niall for all the peacefulness in the world because life is never peaceful forever and he was a good rock in a storm. Even if I did walk out now, the press attention would quickly fade away, but gears were already in motion to destroy my family structure. There’s no going back, now.

My face must have looked haunted, because Michaela immediately knew what I was there for. “Kendra…” she started as she pulled a cinnamon roll out of the display case.

“How bad is it?” I asked, my voice hardly recognizable.

“Kendra, sweetie, no… you don’t need to…”

“What are they saying about me, Michaela?” Because that’s why I was here. I knew that Michaela would look through this with me. I knew that Michaela would be the only one to help soften the blow while actually being real with me about what the blowback from this article would be. Because that’s what this was. My mother knew that Niall would recognize all the lies in her story. If it planted a seed of doubt in him, that was just lucky chance to her.

This was because she knew the insanity that was the One Direction fandom. I didn’t have to look at her search history to know that she had spent the last few months looking for every detail that she could use against me as she could. She’d know by now that most of the fandom doesn’t trust me because I’m an outsider and not active on Twitter or Instagram. That even if they don’t actively dislike me, they’re still on the fence about my intentions with Niall. That a large chunk of them were willing to be as nasty as possible at the faint prospect their fav was seeing a girl, and even more so if they were openly dating.

She knew perfectly well that tarnishing my name with his fans would make my life miserable. She earned a buck while also punishing me, making it clear that if I wouldn’t feed her information she’d fight back in the only way she could. Through lies and attempting to ruin my relationship. Through confirming to the ones that already had a problem with me, from the woman who birthed me herself, that I was a bitch set out to use Niall for his money and fame.

Michaela sighed. “Let me go clock out.”

I was correct in assuming that the article had exploded across every social media platform. Comments like, “Damn, even her mama don’t like her” were light in comparison to some of the others. There were people defending me, saying that it was fishy for my own mother to do an interview like that and maybe there was a reason I wasn’t giving her details but for the most part people seemed determined that this was the confirmation they’d been looking for. That I was a monster only using Niall for his money, that they had known it all along, and it was time for me to go. People talking about how wonderful my mother was for calling me out and wanting to protect Niall from a potentially abusive relationship.

There was even a petition on Twitter that they kept tagging Niall in to get him to leave me before I ruined his life forever.

“It’s all bullshit, you know,” I told her quietly as she got me a third cup of coffee, assuring me that it was on the house. “I mean, it’s true that my parents haven’t met him and that I hid my relationship from them, but that’s because I knew they’d try to exploit it in some way. I never expected them to jump from 0 to 60 the way they did, but I did everything I could to protect Niall from their craziness.”

“Girl, you don’t have a mean bone in your body,” Michaela assured me. “Everyone who knows you already knows this. Even when that jackass cheated on you last year, you didn’t have a bad word to say about him. You even told me that he probably just didn’t know what else to do. That this witch can find anything wrong in you is beyond me.”

It was a nice gesture, and I knew she meant to be comforting, but I just couldn’t find it in me to be comforted. Somehow, I found the strength to make it back to the museum where I dealt with Samantha and Joe trying to be comforting and assuring, but it was hard when Samantha couldn’t get over the fact that Niall was “that Irish guy from One Direction, why didn’t you tell me?” It was like that last layer of anonymity had been ripped away from me. Everyone in my life knew I was dating Niall Horan from One Direction and my family life, not even a truthful representation of it, was flapping in the wind for everyone to see and comment on. I was even more grateful than usual for a slow day, especially when Samantha sent me home twenty minutes early.

I was sitting in the middle of my bed before I pulled my phone out to look at it. As I expected there were ten texts from Abi telling me “don’t pay attention to that bitch, she’ll only get what she wants” and five texts from Brad telling me that everyone who matters knows that’s not true. Briefly, I wondered if this was what MSN Messenger had been like back in middle school after someone had trash talked them on MySpace. I hadn’t had either, but I remember them being discussed in class at school.

There were a few texts from Harry checking up on me and letting me know that Niall was freaking out. Honestly, I could have figured that one out on my own.

Kendra whatever you do, don’t go online.

Kendra?

Don’t listen to her I know it’s not true.

Please answer your phone.

I’m trying to fix this I promise.

Please talk to me, Ken.

Keni?

Don’t talk to her, ok?

Please let me know you’re ok.

The first of ten voicemails he had left said pretty much the same thing and I closed out of it before I could hear any more. Instead, I dialed his number and prayed that he wasn’t busy and could answer.

“Keni,” his voice was like a breath of fresh air in what had otherwise been a toxic fume filled day. He put so much relief and emotion into that one word that for the first time today, I broke down sobbing.

Niall isn’t the type of guy that handles tears very well, but I was grateful for the effort he gave me in those five minutes that I couldn’t stop sobbing. I heard him move into a quieter room, the door shutting and muffling the noise of wherever he was. He made quiet, comforting words, letting me know that he knew she was crazy, that he knew she was being cruel, and that he’d handle it as I continued crying.

I’m not a crier. Growing up, crying was a useless habit that most of us gave up by the time we were five. I tear up sometimes, but I don’t think I’ve sobbed like this since I was a little kid. I’ve never wanted or needed to cry more, though. I always knew my mother was heartless, but this was something I had never expected. Maybe it’s because we always expect the best from our parents, even when they’ve continually lowered the bar for their actions. Maybe it’s that we always hope that they’ll be better this time, but in my experience, they never are.

Sniffling, I managed to get out, “I never imagined that she’d twist the truth around like this. I never thought she’d tell outright lies just to earn a buck. I’m so sorry, Niall.”

“You’re sorry?” he asked, his voice gentle. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Keni. Nothing to be sorry for at all. We don’t get to choose our family, we just get to clean up the messes they leave behind.”

“They’re still going to harass you about things that aren’t even true. The fans and the interviewers and the gossip magazines. They’re going to take this and run with it.”

Niall grunted out, “Not any more than they already do about lies the internet perpetuates. It’s part of my job, unfortunately. Sometimes these stories come from the people that can hurt us the most and not complete strangers. Have you talked to her?”

“No,” I mumble, fiddling with a hole in my quilt. “I didn’t even check my texts until I got home from work. I didn’t want people throwing me off any more than I already was.”

“That’s good,” Niall replied, sounding relieved. “I’m checking with legal, seeing if there’s something we can do about it.”

“What?!”

Niall sounded tired as he said, “Sue for libel or something. It was definitely a defamation of character if I’ve ever seen it, and I’ve seen quite a bit over the last few years.”

I shook my head numbly, touched by his knee jerk reaction to protect me but knowing that it wasn’t a practical approach. “That’s weirdly sweet, but I don’t think we’d have a case.”

“Why not?”

“Because she’s my mother and even if we could, it would make it worse for my siblings. She’d really never let me see them again. Besides, she’s twisted it in just the right way that it’s not completely lies. I did hide it from my parents, just not for the reasons she stated. My siblings are suffering, but it’s because of what she’s doing. And I could see them whenever I wanted, if I just gave her what she wants. I’m not, so in a way I guess I am refusing to see them…”

“Ok, so maybe there isn’t a case and you may not want to sue her anyway, but don’t let her gaslight you into thinking this is alright or that any of that is true. It’s not, Keni. You’re one of the best people I know and nothing she says will ever change that.”

We were quiet for a few minutes, the muffled sound of what was happening on Niall’s end the only thing breaking the silence. “I wish that for once in her life she would think about somebody besides herself,” I say, looking at the paintings on my wall that Noah did for me, wondering if he’d ever do artwork for me again. It was dramatic, but I wasn’t in the mood for rational thinking. “This was more than just money for her, she knew that it would hurt me and was probably hoping it would end up ruining our relationship.”

Niall heaved a long sigh. “You looked at the comments online, didn’t you?”

“Yeah.” My voice was quiet. “I had to. I’d rather know the damage now than be confronted with it for the first time when someone is yelling at me on the streets. I know Eleanor get’s yelled at about stuff between her and Louis, I don’t want to be blindsided.”

He was annoyed, but I could tell he was trying to keep it under control. “Plenty of ‘em will be ugly as sin online but wouldn’t dream of saying a word against you to one of our faces. Eleanor will be the first to tell you that she’s taken fan pictures with people that were nice to her face but said nothing but shite about her online. Just because they’re being mean online doesn’t mean they will be in person. It’s better to just ignore them, not let them get under your skin.”

He meant well, I knew he did, and in a perfect world that would work, but it wasn’t practical for me and I told him as much. “The younger ones are in public school, Ni. While they can’t use social media and don’t have access to the internet, their friends do. I need to know the information they’re getting so I can talk to them. I know I can’t actually talk to them right now, but I need to be able to answer their questions if we ever do get access back to each other.”

“Come on Keni, you know they won’t believe that nonsense.”

“They’re kids and it’s been a pretty long time. Their friends at school will have seen all the drama and with mom feeding them lies, they may just start believing it. Right now, they know it’s not true but what happens in two weeks or four or six? They’re going to think I abandoned them.”

“Kendra.” Niall’s voice was stern. “They’re growing up in the same house you did. They know their mother is a snake. They know you’ve bent over backwards for years to be with them. They know you wish you could be with them now. They know.”

I knew he was right somewhere deep inside me, but on the surface I was hurting too much to acknowledge it. For all the ways my life had been changing for the better, it felt like my world had been ripped out from under my feet and I didn’t know how to put everything back to rights. In some ways, I would never be able to get everything back to normal. I had been gripping at sand for months, and weird balance I had with my parents in the past was now slipping through my fingers. I had always wanted to be free of them, but not at the expense of my younger brothers and sisters.

Chapter 20

Master List

#Niall Horan fan fiction #Niall Horan fan fic #One Direction fan fiction #One Direction fan fic #Niall Horan fanfiction #Niall Horan fanfic #One Direction fanfiction #One Direction fanfic #No Need to Regret #No Need to Regret Ch 19 #NNTR #NNTR Ch 19

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justanotherwannabeclassic · 8 years ago

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CSJJ Day 19: The Next Ten Minutes

A/N: Basically, this is the fic where I combined my love of snowstorms, DC’s inability to handle snowstorms, musical theatre, and Thanks Obama jokes into one joyful and slightly angsty fanfic. Thanks to @csjanuaryjoy for putting it all together!

Summary: A snowstorm leads to a passionate night for Emma and Killian. What does that mean for their friendship? Rating: T

[AO3]

--- Emma awoke in a bed that was not her own, naked, and with a pounding headache serving as a reminder to the terrible – and not so terrible – decisions she made the night before.

Blindly, she groped to the opposite side of the bed, feeling a strange combination of relief and disappointment to find it empty. She briefly wondered where had bedmate had gotten to, until she finally registered the sound of the shower. Intermingled with the noise of the shower’s stream was a man’s voice, singing aloud some mindless pop song. She noted she would have to tease him for it later. Assuming their friendship wasn’t completely fucked up, that is.

Emma moaned, burying herself further into the blankets. She should have never agreed to crash at Killian’s place during the snowstorm. She should have stayed home in her tiny studio, alone and going stir-crazy for the next few days as she waited for the snow to melt, the plows to mow the street, or the metro to be running again.

But Killian just had to offer that she come crash with him for what they knew would be an extended weekend. “It’s better we be snowed in together, rather than alone,” he had suggested to her. And Emma had stupidly agreed, because he was one of her best friends, and his condo was incredibly nice, and his liquor selection was stellar. So, she had packed up a few days worth of clothes, some snow boots, and grabbed some pizza and gone. She hadn’t meant to sleep with him. Not really.

Emma peeked up from her burrow in the blankets to the framed photograph on the nightstand. Four smiling faces stared back at her. The picture had been taken at Liam and Elsa’s wedding. It had been through Elsa that Emma had met Killian. Elsa had been Emma’s roommate at the time, and had invited Emma along to a party at her boyfriend Liam’s place. There she had met Liam’s younger brother, and they hit it off debating their favorite rums and whiskeys.

They hadn’t gotten together then. Emma had been dating Walsh at the time – what a terrible mistake that had been – and Killian had still been grieving the loss of his fiancé, Milah. So a friendship had developed. And it had been an excellent friendship. So excellent, if fact, that Emma had occasionally wondered what would happen if things became more. Of course, up until last night, she had been too afraid to pursue that line of thought. Everything good in her life always seemed to disappear – a fact that she and Killian bonded over – and she wasn’t about to lose him.

Except, now she might.

She closed her eyes, replaying the events of the night before. They had eaten pizza, drank wine, and watched some television. At some point, she had become enchanted by the snow falling outside – she was incredibly envious of his place’s floor to ceiling windows – and suggested a nighttime stroll in the snow.

“How often do we experience a snowpocalypse, anyway?”

“I believe they’re calling it Snowzilla, love.”

So they bundled up and took toward the streets. It had been strange walking along the DC streets at night, not a car, taxi, or uber ride to really be found. For all intents and purposes, the Capital had shut down. Even OPM had closed down the government, with only essential employees expected to work, and even then, telecommute if possible. (“Thanks, Sn’Obama!” “Swan, that’s terrible.”)

At some point during their walk, Killian had wrapped his arm around her, keeping her warm from the cold. “I’m a gentleman, love,” is what he always claimed. And it felt nice being in his arms, and it reminded Emma of all the feelings she was trying to tamp down. Because he was a gentlemen. He was kind and caring, and he made her laugh. With the wine coursing through her veins, and the magic of a snowstorm surrounding them, Emma made what might be the best or worst decision of her life – she kissed him. And then he kissed her back. And then one thing led to another, and Emma ended up naked in his bed.

She heard the shower shut off, and her heart felt as if it was about to pound out of her chest. In an attempt to delay the inevitable, she feigned sleep, hoping he wouldn’t notice. She still needed more time to sort out her warring emotions, and pretend this wasn’t the beginning of the end. She couldn’t see how it could go any other way. Either he also completely regretted it, and their friendship would end right there and then, or they would try to dance around the fact that they had seen one another naked, and their friendship would end at a later date.

The door to the bedroom opened, and Killian shuffled in, his footsteps light. Emma listened as her approached the bed, praying he would find her cowardly act believable. She heard him stop, and she could feel his presence near the edge of his bed. She wondered if he was studying her, if he was looking down at her with regret. Instead, she felt him lean down and press a kiss to her head, and then retreat. He shut the bedroom door as he left.

The intimacy of the gesture almost made her cry. It was a very Killian thing to do, all soft and caring. It was also new. As friends, they didn’t kiss. She had crashed at his place a few times over the past three years that she had known him – after parties where she was too drunk and tired to metro or uber home, in the final days leading up to Liam and Elsa’s wedding as they drowned in wedding details, during movie nights that went on too late. Of course, after those nights, she’d often stayed on the couch, or in the spare bedroom that had once been Liam’s. There had been no opportunity for kisses. But he had kissed her just then, even if he hadn’t known she’d been awake.

What did it even mean?

Emma rolled over with sigh, huffing at she stared up into the ceiling. She didn’t like being this woman, the woman who over-analyzed everything relating to her relationship with a man. But she reminded herself that this was different, this had to do with not just a romantic relationship, but a friendship, with a person who she very, truly cherished.

And that was the problem. She cherished him – and had sex with him.

It wasn’t the sort of thing friendships normally overcame. Emma had been around the block enough times to know that the whole “friends-with-benefits” thing usually ended poorly. Besides, she didn’t even want that with Killian. She wanted the status quo, for him to remain the person she could count on to weather through snowstorms and to tease her over her choices in pizza toppings.

Sex changesd those things. Romantic relationships change those things. Romantic relationships inevitably end – especially for her. Friendships were the only type of relationships Emma had been able to successfully sustain over the years. Elsa, Mary Margaret, David, even Regina. She’d manage to create a hodgepodge of friends that stayed. And she couldn’t bear to watch Killian leave.

And to make matters worse, she was trapped, because being the brilliant woman that she was, she decided to make a terrible – wonderful? – move in the middle of a snowstorm. There was a small part of her that wished the Capital Weather Gang had been mistaken, and that the city wasn’t going to get two feet of snow. Maybe there would be an errant uber driver out, and she could hitch a ride back to her apartment in NoMa. Trying to be as quiet as possible, she crept from the bed, wrapping the sheet around her for warmth. She wanted to curse when she peeked through the blinds to see a blanket of white. Cars were half buried, and she could barely see the Anacostia River from all the snow.

In short, Emma was trapped. She debated about what to do next. As appealing as it was, she couldn’t stay hidden in his bedroom forever. There was also the matter of her clothing. She had dropped off her duffle bag of clothes in Liam’s old room, and there was no way she could sneak and change without alerting Killian. She hated that she was afraid to confront him, because before she had never been afraid to be around him. He had always been easy. He had been safe. And now she was afraid of hearing him agree that they had made a mistake. She didn’t want him to think it was a mistake, and that was a problem in and of itself. But Emma knew that she had to face the music at some point. Her heart heavy, she pilfered a pair of his boxers and a sweatshirt from the floor. She wasn’t about to leave his room naked, and there was something comforting about being wrapped in his smell. She tried not to dwell on that fact. Killian was leaning against the kitchen island, scrolling through his phone and drinking a mug of coffee when she exited the bedroom. He noticed her immediately, and a smile bloomed across his face when he saw her. “Swan,” he greeted.

She admired the way crinkles formed in the corner of his eyes when he smiled. She had always liked that about him. She liked that this smile was for her. She took a deep breath. “Hi.”

Emma never really did the morning after thing. With her one-night stands, she was more of a “wham, bam, thank you ma’am” kind of woman, preferring to leave after the deed was done and needs met. Even when she had dated Walsh, she hadn’t stayed over often. But, she had to admit it was nice to see Killian early in the morning. It almost made her forget that their friendship was potentially doomed. Killian eyed her carefully, and then sat down his mug. As if sensing her fears, he told her, “I don’t regret last night, just so you know.”

She was struck by his forwardness, the fact that he didn’t dance around the subject or distract her. She appreciated it, but it also terrified her. “I’m glad.” Her voice trailed off, a fact that he picked up immediately.

“I’m sensing a ‘but’ there.”

“You are my best friend.” Emma realized the moment she said it that she had never told him that before. She’d always said he was her friend, but never attached a qualifier. If it surprised him, it didn’t show.

Instead, Killian followed her statement with one of his own. “And you are mine.”

“Good,” she said. It pleased her to hear him say it. Maybe all hope wouldn’t be lost. “So you know how important our friendship is, and I don’t want us having sex to ruin it.”

“There’s also the chance that it could make it better,” he countered, his eyebrows waggling provocatively. She had to stifle a laugh, which she knew was his intended effect. “Swan, there’s nothing to be afraid of.” “Losing our friendship sounds kind of scary.”

He studied her carefully, then crossed his arms. “I saw a play last week.”

“Excuse me?” She was struck by the change in conversation. It was abrupt, and she bristled at how he completely side-stepped her confession.

“It told the story of a couple, showed them falling in love and breaking up,” he explained.* Emma wasn’t sure where Killian was going with this. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know. “There’s one scene in which the man proposes to the woman, and in doing so, he asks for just ten minutes of her time, and then another ten.” “Killian—“

“Just give me ten minutes, love,” he asked, steeping his hands and making a move toward her. “Just ten minutes to pretend that our friendship can be something more. Can you handle that?”

She wanted to argue, to call his suggestion silly, but Emma found herself nodding along. He flashed her that brilliant smile of his, and placed his hands on her shoulders. “So, how about I make you some coffee and breakfast, aye?”

And so he did. As he heated the bacon, Emma made her way into the guest bedroom, and changed out of Killian’s stolen clothes and into some of her own. It felt strange ending their conversation like that, but Emma was thankful there wasn’t a fight. In fact, it all felt strangely domestic, mostly because she didn’t want to fight him on it.

They had just sat down to eat when he turned to her and asked, “Was that so bad?”

“I haven’t even tried anything,” she replied with a roll of her eyes. He mirrored her movements with a spectacular eye roll of his own. “I meant the past ten minutes.”

“Nothing happened.”

“Exactly,” he insisted. “Ten minutes passed, and we’re still okay. I made you breakfast—“

“Which I haven’t eaten, because you keep interrupting me.”

“And we’re just fine.” Killian cast her an intense stare. “So, love, how about it? Can I have another ten minutes?”

Emma looked down mournfully at her bacon, knowing she wouldn’t be getting to it anytime soon. “Is this your master plan, convince me in ten minute increments that us being a thing will be okay?”

“Is it working?” He quirked an eyebrow at her playfully, and reached out to take her hands in his own. “Emma, I want this, have for awhile. Last night was like a dream come true for me, and I have a feeling you didn’t hate it either. Did you?”

“No.”

“And I know you’re afraid, but I want to prove to you that we can still be us, with the added benefit of a courtship. If it takes ten minute increments, then so be it,” he explained to her. He eyed her hopefully.

Emma wanted to tell him that they wanted the same thing, that last night had been a dream come true. She wanted to say that she wanted their friendship with an added benefit of a courtship. Instead, she said, “Can it be longer than ten minutes? Because we’re stuck here for the next day or so, and it’s going to be annoying for you to ask me every ten minutes if we’re good.”

She hoped he caught everything she was trying to say. He seemed to, because that wonderful smile was back. “Alright, Swan. A day at a time it is.” She kissed him to confirm it, finding herself suddenly thankful for freak snowstorms.

Thanks Sn’Obama.

Fin *The play referenced is The Last Five Years aka my favorite musical.

#captain swan #cs ff #captain swan fic #cs au #cs january joy #s writes fic

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