#the way my whole body is betraying me and causing me to nearly go into panic attacks every day lately.

[queen-of-bel]

.

[longlivedelusion]

Hiker's Delight

Summary: Bucky takes you on a hike. That's it. That's the fic. Boyfriend! Bucky x Reader. Established Relationship.

Warnings: Just fluff and some mentions of post- Hydra trauma, but nothing too crazy. Will proper edit later!

A/N: Quick lil fic I wrote cause I've been just wanting more boyfriend! bucky, domestic life vibes. I need fluffy and comforting energy rn and this is that. Enjoy!!

Masterlist

I make my way up the hill, huffing as I grab onto a nearby rock to pull myself up.

Bucky's behind me, not out of breath at all, the damn super soldier and his stamina and-

"Hey, you doin' ok?" I hear from behind me, Bucky leaning against a nearby rock.

I nod, looking back ahead as I haul myself up. "This is just a bit more intense than I thought, I'll be okay though." I let out another grunt and I push another step. He's stayed behind me the whole time even though I'm going at a snail's pace, according to him I'd probably drop off and get lost if he lead the way.

"You sure you don't want-"

"No. You are not gonna carry me. I'm gonna finish *grunt* this *huff* damn hike with my own two feet." 

We pull forward, the slopes getting a bit more steep than I expected, which had me nearly sweating by the time we reached the edge. I looked up at the towering cliff knowing my arms were like jello, but I had to, needed to-

Bucky knelt down and held his hands out, a makeshift lift as he looked up at me. He quirked his brow.

"I can-" I start.

"Stop being stubborn and take the help doll. This cliff is a bit of a bitch, if you can't tell." He said waved his arm at the cliff to make a point.

I don't say anything and just sigh, knowing he was right. No use being overly stubborn about this. I prop my foot in his hands, griping where I could on the rock in front of me before Bucky said "Ready? 1... 2..."

And then I was up, the top of the rock pressed against my stomach as I hoisted myself over the rest of the way. I crawled forward, legs starting to feel a bit like jello now that I was on the ground. 

I watched as Bucky followed right after, easily pulling himself over like it was the easiest thing in the world. He stood up with ease, clearly not dealing with same jello legs as I just kind of collapsed on my back and took some deep breaths. 

"Ugh, this damn body. Why must it betray me so." My dramatic ass said.

"Because you just went on a pretty intensive hike with barely any training even though I offered to have you train with me for like 2 months."

My noodle arm managed to raise up and wave him off, "Semantics."

He chuckled, taking a seat beside me and brushing the sweaty strands of hair off my face. "Want some water?"

I nod, eyes closed as my breathing stedied, my body starting to relax and calm down from the overexertion. I heard a bottle cap untwist, making me open my eyes to see Bucky with some water in hand. 

"Come on, you can prop up against me if you want." He said, hand gently helping me upwards. I push myself up and shift over, my back now facing the soldier's chest as he hands me the bottle.

"Oh fuck that's good," I sigh, taking a long swig before passing it back over to Bucky. It takes me a moment, but after I blink a few times I finally realize the view before me.

Directly in front of us is the most beautiful mountain range I'd ever seen-- massive trees lining the edges of the mountainS, an eagle soaring overhead, and a huge, crystal blue lake smack dab in the center. So cut off from civilization, this untouched land surrounded my mountains and only Mother Nature as its mistress.

"Wow, this is-" I start, eyes wide as they tried to take in every detail. The lighting, the shades of green, the textures--all of it... "breathtaking."

"I'm glad you like it." Bucky said softly, his voice a soft tickle behind my ear. His arms wrapped around my waist, tucking me in a bit closer to him as I sat in awe.

"Even though I'm not the biggest hiking fan-"

"Huh, couldn't tell." Bucky joked.

"-oh hush. I was saying, even though I'm not the biggest hiker, I'm really glad you asked me to do this." I reached for his hands on my waist and gave them a small squeeze.

"Thanks for coming. I'd only ever been here alone before, and it was for a mission. So I'm glad I get to actually enjoy it, and with some pretty decent company while we're at it." He kissed the side of my head, a smirk pressed against my hair.

"Oh decent huh? Just decent?" I looked over into his blue eyes and saw they were already looking down at me. That shit-eating smirk plastered on his stupidly gorgeous face. "Says the man who practically begged to take me here."

He shrugged, "I don't remember begging."

"Oh? So all that whining and bribing with takeout was just a lapse in memory then?"

"Probably." He said, the nonchalance to his voice making me wanna shove and kiss his sarcastic ass all at once..

So I settle with a boop his nose and a scrunched smile. "Cheeky." I turn back to the view before me, settling back into Bucky. As I reached into my bag and pulled out the small lunch I'd packed prior, I heard a grumble behind me. "Hungry?" I ask.

"Just a bit." He chuckled lightly.

I pulled some of the sandwiches and some fruits out, grabbing one for myself and handing the other to Bucky. "I can't think of a prettier place I've ever eaten," I said, mouth half full as I took a bite of my sandwich.

He reached for some blueberries, arms brushing past mine as he hummed and popped them in his mouth. "I need to take you out more then. Can't let this be the peak of our relationship now can I?"

"I mean, as long as I can actually physically get to these places ok I'm down. My stubbornness can't handle another hike like this, or I'll try to climb Everest of something next time."

"Eh, Everest is overrated anyways." He said, taking another bite of food.

I turned around in shock, "Seriously? You climbed Everest?"

He had a cocky smile on his face as he nodded. "Yup. Was kidding about the overrated thing though. Impressed?"

"Um, yeah I'm impressed! But when, how, what was it like?" I rambled on. I couldn't believe this man I'd come to know and love still had stuff like this just to learn about. A whole lifetime to know. 

He put the bottle down, thinking for a bit. "About ten years ago, when I was still in..." He hesitated. Hydra. Something we both knew, understood in... Different ways. It didn't need to be said. "I remember bits and pieces, but it was cold as hell and windy. For a second there though, at the top of the mountain, I looked out and was me. Bucky. I didn't remember the last time I had been myself like that, and I just didnt know what to do but take a deep breath in, look out at the mountains. I sat there for... Fuck knows how long."

I set down my food and reached for his hand, my thumb tracing over the back as he spoke. "Is that why you like hiking and climbing so much?" 

He nodded, hand turning and holding mine. He looked at the metal hand below him intertwined with mine before he spoke. "It can always pull me out of whatever headspace I'm in, I don't know. When shit doesn't work and the day feels like hell, being out here just... Helps. It reminds me of who I was or could be. I don't know." He shrugged, looking away at the view.

I squeeze his hand, eyes tracing back to his face. "I think I can sort of understand. Not the hiking or climbing but... Being by the sea does the same for me. Helps me remember that I'm alive and here."

He nods, his gaze still in the horizon. "It's like, no matter how fucked up the world gets or I get, nature doesn't judge. She justs gets it and doesn't care. Doesn't care about who I am or what I've done."

"Because she just sees chaos and order and gets that both are important." I add, fingers still tracing along the side of his face slowly. "The rest of it doesn't really matter."

"Exactly."

We sit in silence for a moment before I shift Bucky's face towards me. His eyes lock onto mine in silent question. 

"Thank you for bringing me here. And sharing this with me."

He smiles as he leans down, a small kiss pressed against my lips before he let his forehead drop to mine. "Happy to."

"So where to next?" I ask, pulling back enough to look at him. "Another mountain? The desert? A tundra?"

"Actually, " he said, that cocky smile gracing his features again. "I got the perfect spot already in mind."

[mymisfitsbabe]

8 for the writing prompt- whatever pairing you wanna write for. 🥰

Yayyyy, have some more Caligator cause the brain rot refuses to leave me alone. This can be read to go with my fic, or a one shot.

Number 8 Kiss me, I can't wait any longer.

Being closeted in a tiny Midwestern town sucked, what sucked worse was Gator fucking Tillman’s insane obsession with him. Billy just wanted to go home after his shift at the mechanic shop. Just wanted to ice his tender shoulder and crawl into bed.

But there were the flashing lights in his rear view mirror, and Gator with a shit eating grin in the SUV Billy and Benny had just finished fixing. Billy groaned and pulled his Camaro over into the gravel shoulder. Billy could see his trailer from his spot on the dead end road.

“What the fuck does he want?” Billy muttered to himself as he put both hands on the wheel.

There wasn't another house or trailer on the dead end street, the closest one being back up the road about two miles. Shifting in the seat Billy started to wonder why the fuck the hotter than sin Deputy was even there… unless Gator was waiting for him.

Heart hammering in his chest Billy tried to think. Did he do something? Billy couldn't think, couldn't remember. All his bills were paid for the month, no tickets, he wasn't speeding, there was no possible reason for Gator Tillman to be walking over to his car with all the lights off on the SUV.

“Get outta the car, Billy.” Gator said as he closed the distance between the cars. “And kill the engine.”

Taking a steadying breath Billy turned the car off, opened the door and stepped out. Billy whirled when he heard Gator's footsteps right behind him. A gasp escaped his lips as Gator pressed into his space, trapping Billy between the open door and the Gator's body. Going ramrod straight Billy held his breath as they stood there for a long moment, nearly chest to chest. 

Swallowing hard Billy watched the way Gator's eyes tracked the bob of his throat. Tillman inched his head forward a little closer to Billy's and his skin heated, a flush spreading across his whole body. Gator’s eyes dipped down, stopping less than an inch from Billy lips. The anticipation was making Billy light headed, his chest rising and falling too quickly as something deep in his body ached.

The deputy put one hand on the top of the door and leaned into the Camaro. Flicking the headlights off Gator grabbed the keys from the ignition and pocketed them as he straightened. The only light came from the Camaro overhead, as signal that the door was still open. Suddenly Billy's stomach bottomed out, panic starting to rise as Gator smirked right in Billy's face. 

“Ya know why I pulled ya over?” Gator asked with his thick accent. 

“Becau-” Billy licked his lips and swallowed hard. “Because you're a dick?” Billy asked, voice shaking.

The dim light highlighted Gator's darkening eyes perfectly, it showed his smirk drop and his tongue lick across his teeth. Billy really should learn how to shut the fuck up.

“Funny. Yer a real funny guy aren't ya, Bills.” Gator asked, no humor in his voice. 

“I-” Billy started but Gator grabbed Billy's shirt and hauled him out of the place logged between the door and the cab of the Camaro. 

Billy stumbled forward then fell straight into the ground, gravel digging into his palms as he tried to keep his face from hitting the pavement. Billy scrambled forward, his feet sliding as he tried and failed to get up. Gator's hands were on Billy's arms hauling him up and making Billy cry out as pain shot up his shoulder. 

Once Billy was on his feet again Gator had him slammed up against the trunk of the Camaro. Billy's back was against his car, his body bending at an odd angle his flush with Gator's as he loomed over him. 

Gator grabbed Billy's jaw, and pulled him in close, so close Billy could feel Gator's breath in his lips. Up on his elbows Billy willed his body to calm, willed himself not to pant, not to watch Gator’s lips, not to let arousal betray his desperation. 

It had been so fucking long since Billy had been touched, and even longer since he'd manhandled. Clenching his jaw, Billy fought to keep his groan locked away, but Gator's smug face told Billy that Tillman already clocked it. 

“Well, well, well,” Gator tisked as he pressed his hips even harder into Billy's less than subtle erection. “Ya like getting tossed ‘round do ya?”

Billy spread his thighs and Gator growled. 

“Kiss me already, I can't fucking wait any more you piece of shit hick.” Billy hissed.

Gator did as he was told, his mouth crashing into Billy's so hard their teeth clacked together. Wrapping his legs around Gator’s waist Billy ground himself against Gator's cock getting a delicious moan in return. The deputy lifted Billy and carried him over to the SUV, he slammed Billy against the frame long enough to open the back door and shove Billy down into the seats. 

Billy fumbled to kick his boots off, he pulled off his shirt and unbuttoned his pants, Gator had backed away just enough to give them room while he unbuckled his pants and worked on getting his cock free. Billy had gotten his jeans halfway off his hips when Gator flipped him over and grabbed a bottle of lube from somewhere. 

Billy was bent over the back seats, knees on the floor of the back seat, Gator's cock pressing against his tight unprepared hole. Grinding his teeth at the burn and ache of the intrusion Billy groaned. 

“Fuck, ya so fuckin tight Bills.” Gator moaned as he rubbed little circles into Billy's hips. 

Billy actively worked on relaxing his body, he licked his lips as Gator pushed in deep and kissed Billy's shoulders. The feel easing some of the tension and Gator must have felt it because he kissed him again and again, till Billy's body was trembling. Those feather light kisses such a beautiful contrast to the pain making Billy moan and slacken against the seats. 

Gator reached around to Billy's cock and started stroking in time to his thrusts. Quickly Billy was reduced to a writhing, whimpering puddle ready to cum across the leather. Gator shifted angling Billy's hips into a position that had Gator’s cock hitting that sweet spot inside him. 

Suddenly it was a completely different type of pleasure and Gator had to stuff something into Billy's mouth to keep him quiet. Billy could feel the rising orgasm, knew Gator was reaching his peak too when the deputy's movement became more frantic. They came together, Gator slowing his pace so they could ride the orgasm. 

“Kiss me you fucking redneck,” Billy muttered and Gator chuckled before grabbing Billy by the throat and yanking him up so Gator could kiss him again.

[alj4890]

Can't Take My Eyes Off of You

(Maxwell Beaumont x Olivia Nevrakis) in a Choices The Royal Romance Crackship AU

Masterlist

A/N I know it's been a while, but I think I can say I'm back 🤞Covid and flu went through my whole family these last couple of weeks and I'm behind on everything, including having fun on Tumblr. I'm starting to catch up on writing, reading, and answering asks. For the time being though, here's something I'd finished right before all the sickness struck. I was finally able to edit it this morning, so here we go with some more angsty romance with Max and Liv.

Chapter 4

Cordonia's Royal Port...

Olivia was seething.

There were a great many things in this world that could make her angry. One that was high on her list was what she deemed: traitor. It just so happened that she was debating on whether or not to assign that particular moniker to one of the men she'd known for most of her life.

Is he betraying me by being all buddy/buddy with Riley? He's pushing so hard for her to win Liam's attention. Shouldn't he be rooting instead for me, his so-called friend?

Her narrowed eyes were riveted upon the joyful trio. It was ridiculous how happy Drake, Riley, and Maxwell were for having won the annual regatta. Olivia felt her temper spike to see her competition engulfing both men in tight hugs before jumping down to the dock to greet Liam and Constantine.

The fact that the three most incompetent people she'd ever known had beaten her soon to be fired crew was absolutely insane.

"Your grace?" One of her crewmen cleared his throat. "Please accept our apologies for--"

"Get everything ready for the party." She snapped. "Guests will be arriving soon. I expect no further failures."

"Yes m'lady." He bowed then scurried away.

Olivia refocused on the various nobles coming towards her yacht. There was only one person she wanted to see from her peer group. She wasn't certain why she wanted to see Maxwell as badly as she did. She chalked it up to her need to set him straight on a number of matters.

Then again, curiosity over their kiss could be another big reason.

She greeted her guests on her way down to the dock, making certain on timing it to where she could run into Maxwell without it appearing planned.

Luckily, he wasn't looking where he was going. His attention was directed upon his phone while a slight frown formed on lips she knew a little too well.

Maxwell bumped into her, nearly sending them both into the water.

"Whoa!" He grasped her waist to help keep her upright. "Sorry."

Olivia's frown deepened over the flush creeping up her neck from their bodies being pressed up against one another for such a brief moment.

Stepping back, she straightened her sweater and waited on him to say something more.

His eyes lingered upon her cold, dispassionate face. Maxwell felt his heart sink at not seeing anything like he'd hoped to after sharing a kiss that had been beyond anything his imagination could conjure.

"Excuse me." He mumbled, stepping around her.

Olivia blinked at that being all he was going to say to her. After that kiss from a few nights earlier, she expected him to say something about why he'd done it.

"Where are you going?" She snapped.

Her waspish tone caused him to freeze.

"Bertrand needs to talk to me." He told her.

"Now?" She asked.

"Yeah." Maxwell sighed. "His, um, his patience is really wearing thin."

He glanced towards her yacht and the nobles already mingling on it. Of all the times his brother demanded his presence for another lecture, it had to be when the woman he was head over heels for threw a party.

Not that she would want me there.

"Aren't you coming to my little get together?" She asked.

His eyes searched hers. Hope flared within him.

Maybe I didn't screw up my chances with her, he thought. If she wants me at her party then my kiss didn't completely gross her out.

"I wish I could." Maxwell ran a hand down his face. "Bertrand is demanding I come find him."

"Are you going to the beach later?" Olivia wanted to slap herself for sounding like she couldn't wait to see him again.

"Yeah," Maxwell replied, "I think so."

His phone buzzed with another irritated text from his brother.

"I'll see you later." He mumbled.

"Hey." Riley greeted, stopping beside Olivia. "Liam said you're hosting the Ladies of the Court."

Olivia watched him walk away. Her brow furrowed in thought over his behavior and her own holding back in telling him off. She wasn't quite certain what game Maxwell was playing with her, but she knew she needed to stop it before it went any further.

Is it a game he's playing with me? Is that why he kissed me? Or am I giving Maxwell too much credit?

"I am." Olivia turned back towards the gangplank, motioning for Riley to follow. "Welcome aboard."

"Thanks." Riley relaxed some once she saw Olivia wasn't her usual temperamental self.

"Of course." Olivia's overly bright smile made Riley pause. "Please, make yourself at home and do not hesitate to ask for whatever you need."

Riley's eyes widened when Olivia called out for a servant to bring her a bright orange life jacket.

"Here." Olivia's smug smile formed. "We can't take a chance on possibly losing you during our excursion."

"Is everyone getting one?" Riley asked.

"No. They aren't as fragile as our newest member of the Court." Olivia replied.

Riley's own smile held a hint of evil. She took the life jacket in her hands and managed to sound like she was overcome with emotion.

Olivia struggled in her embrace.

"Olivia! Aren't you the most precious person to be so concerned about me?" Riley pulled her into a tight hug. "It is so sweet how much you want to keep me around."

Her delighted out urst drew the nobles' attention. Many were chuckling and whispering while watching the two ladies before turning back to the brunch that was being set out.

"There's no need for this." Riley whispered. "This competition doesn't mean we have to keep being mean to each other."

Olivia pushed out of her arms. "You're a bigger fool than I thought. This is a competition. None of us can be anything other than opponents as we fight to win Liam."

"There is no fight." Riley tossed the life preserver into a nearby lounge chair. "Liam is a man who will choose the woman he wants to ultimately spend the rest of his life with. I don't care what Madeleine says about it being to find the perfect queen. In the end, he has to live with whomever he picks."

She gestured around at the crowd. "Those of us who aren't picked will need to continue on in life. Wouldn't it be better to do so as friends?"

Olivia scoffed at that notion.

Riley really is naive.

"Believe that if you want," Olivia muttered, "but in the end, you'll hate the one Liam picks over you."

"Why?" Riley folded her arms. "If I truly care about Liam, then shouldn't I want to see him get the person he wants most?"

Olivia hesitated. Of course, she knew that's how one should feel. Yet, could she take Liam picking one of the other ladies over herself?

"Anyway," Riley continued, "I think we'll all end up with the person we're meant for."

Olivia rolled her eyes. "That sounds stupidly optimistic."

Riley shrugged. "I'm a hopeless romantic. It's why I agreed to Maxwell's invitation to be House Beaumont's suitor."

She then nudged Olivia.

"You know, there are a lot of handsome guys here."

"Excuse me?" Olivia sputtered.

"I'm just saying, the ladies Liam doesn't pick have a pretty decent selection to nurse their broken hearts." Riley smiled at her. "I bet there's at least one who's not the prince who has caught your eye."

Olivia paled at the thought of Maxwell telling Riley about the kiss.

"He has not caught my eye." Olivia hissed.

"Who?" Riley asked.

"I don't care what he said to you!" Olivia whispered harshly. "Nothing will ever come from that kiss!"

"Who?!" Riley's eyes widened. "Who did you kiss?"

Olivia realized she'd made a huge mistake. The longer she studied Riley's curious face the more she knew Maxwell hadn't told her about what happened that last night in Lythikos.

Furious over her own stupidity, Olivia spun on her heel and left Riley gaping in confusion.

****************

The private beach...

Maxwell did his best not to look around and see where Olivia was. He'd already caught her staring at him twice. He knew he should probably talk about the kiss with her.

But...

He didn't want to hear her say that she felt nothing for him.

He softly groaned as he collapsed back on the towel he was sitting on. Once he saw Liam sneak off with Riley, he knew he could finally relax somewhat. He wished he could get out of his clothes and go swimming with his friends. He knew Bertrand would have a stroke if he found out that he did so and that the entire court saw his tattoo.

Still...it was tempting to rip his black shirt off. Hearing the gasps and whispers over the baby hippo residing upon his chest would bring a smile to his face. It would also temporarily take his mind off one particular subject.

He'd give anything to escape his thoughts. Between the heat of the afternoon sun and the inner heat from the memories of how Olivia's lips felt on his, he needed a cool dip in the ocean.

"We need to talk."

His eyes shot open to see the very person he could not stop thinking about standing over him.

Olivia glanced around. Everyone was preoccupied with either swimming or mingling. No one was paying any attention to them. It was the perfect moment to finally get some answers.

"What, um, what do you want to talk about?" Maxwell asked a touch hesitantly.

"You know what I want to discuss." She hissed. "Now get up and follow me."

He scrambled after her when she darted towards a shaded area filled with palm trees and thick brush.

Once she knew they were well out of earshot of everyone, she rounded on him.

"I know what you're doing." Her tone sent a chill down his spine.

"You do?" Maxwell thought he'd been so careful.

"I'd almost be impressed if you were normally this manipulative." Olivia swallowed, fighting against the frustrated tears that she felt. "But coming from someone like you, all I see is how cruel you really are."

She refused to cry in front of people. It was a form of weakness that a Nevrakis could never show to anyone. The last person she'd ever thought would make her feel this close to tears was Maxwell Beaumont.

Heat rose up her body as she blinked back the telltale signs that he'd upset her to this point.

"Cruel?" His eyes narrowed in concern as he stepped closer to her. "What are you talking about?"

"Your kiss!" She snapped. "You used it to distract me from pursuing Liam all so you're precious Riley could steal him away!"

Maxwell's jaw dropped. He couldn't believe she'd jumped to that conclusion. Didn't she know he was hopelessly in love with her, that he'd never use that as a weapon against her? How much more obvious could he be in showing Olivia how badly he wanted to be with her?

"Listen closely." She poked his chest with each word. "I will win Liam. You and I will never, ever speak of that kiss again after today. I know your tricks now and will never falter again."

"Tricks?!" He finally found his voice. "Liv, it wasn't a trick! I didn't do anything to make sure Riley wins Liam's attention."

"Bullshit!" Olivia hissed. "You knew what you were doing when you came to my room that night! I let my sentimentality over our childhood friendship keep me from seeing just how far you'll go to make Riley be Liam's choice."

"I swear I had no plans to do anything that night!" He cried out. "I honestly wanted to check on you! Don't you know..."

He trailed off, lowering his eyes. He knew deep, deep down he had kissed her in the hopes she would be distracted from pursuing Liam. It just had nothing at all to do with Riley or winning this asinine competition.

He only wanted Olivia to fall in love with him.

Swallowing, he reached for her hand.

For some reason Olivia allowed him to do so.

His thumb brushed over her skin setting off tingles for them both.

"Don't I know what?" She bit out, refusing to relax her fingers.

He lifted his eyes to hers. Olivia took a step back from the undeniable emotion swimming in those ocean blue depths of his.

Maxwell wanted to tell her everything that was in his heart. He knew he couldn't and even if he did give in to his weakness for her, she'd never believe him now. He could only hint at what he felt for her.

"Don't you know me well enough to see that I would never do something like that to anyone, especially to you? "

His voice cracked towards the end of his question. He didn't bother to try and hide how hurt he was. What was the point?

Olivia felt her suspicion begin to dwindle the more she studied Maxwell. He'd always been nice, especially to her. Could he truly have kissed her without any ulterior motive?

She knew he'd had a crush on her since forever. Did he actually kiss her because he wanted to? Or was it to help her know if Liam was what she wanted?

"All I want," he squeezed her hand before letting go, "all I ever wanted was to see my friends happy."

He stepped away from her.

"And since you've always been important to me, that's all I want for you. Whether it is with Liam or..." he grimaced, "or some other lucky guy, I want you to be with someone who appreciates the kind of woman you are."

Olivia folded her arms.

"That's all you want?" She snorted. "Nothing for yourself?"

"I didn't say that." He snapped.

Maxwell could feel the irritation well within him that she was completely blind when it concerned him.

"I want something that I know is becoming more and more impossible with each day this damn competition continues." He explained in a bitter tone. "And I hate that since it is the only thing I've ever wanted that I'm stuck watching from the sidelines as all my hopes get destroyed one by one."

Olivia's lips parted. She had a feeling she knew exactly what he wanted. If he truly wasn't trying to distract her, knowing she was one of the top picks for Liam, then it really could only be one thing.

He wants me.

Maxwell waited a couple of heartbeats for her response.

When she parted her lips, he'd hoped she would say something. Though he wanted it to be what his desperate heart needed, he almost wished she'd tell him to give up. This torturous longing for her was getting worse now that he knew how her lips felt pressed against his. The way her body fitted his like a puzzle piece and the taste of her skin had kept him awake the last few nights. He didn't know if he could continue to be a passive observer for the rest of the season now knowing that what he'd once imagined paled in comparison to the real thing.

Her hesitation in responding caused him to stumble back.

"I need to go." He mumbled, averting his gaze from hers once more. "I'll see you around."

Olivia let him go without a word. She watched him scoop up the beach towel he'd been sitting on and leave the area without saying goodbye to anyone. The lack of both his warm smile and the typical spring in his step let her know that their conversation had hurt him.

Her eyes narrowed once more. She could see that she was nowhere near getting Maxwell Beaumont off of her mind. If anything, this conversation alone would have kept him there. Add the kiss and the unusual feelings that were creeping up each time they touched, and she knew that it was only getting worse.

She returned to her lounge chair to think on what to do about this unexpected complication in her life.

As the sun set, a gasp slipped past her lips. Her fists clinched as a more pointed realization struck. It was unbelievable what she'd done.

She'd spent the entire day thinking of and interacting with only one man.

And it wasn't Liam.

[greenteaandtattoos]

Hold. The. Phone.

Someone just mentioned to me a theory that Fearne is a hag-in-training, taking after Morri, and my thoughts are racing with the possibilities this opens up. 

I could see Fearne turning on the Hell’s, I do. She’s loyal by nature, true, but she chooses who she puts her full loyalty in, and that’s Orym. Would she betray and leave Orym, who would go through hell and back for each other? Unlikely but consider... 

She’s also chaotic by nature, too, and that chaos may very well overtake that loyalty if given just the right nudge. And what would that be? Well... remember how many of us believe that the coin landed on Laudna, but Fearne chose to revive Orym instead?

If this is the case, and Orym learns of this... he’s going to be pissed. The other Hell’s, especially Imogen, are going to be pissed. But does Fearne actually care about the others? Sure, but not nearly as much as she cares about Orym, and his opinion. 

He confronts her, they fight, words are exchanged, emotions explode, and Fearne is hurt, because why can’t Orym understand why she did it? She had already been left by her parents, why should she lose another of her loved ones? 

She doesn��t take into consideration that Orym, too, has lost loved ones. And the difference between their rage is that Orym’s is fueled by survivor’s guilt, he’s lost his family already, he’d rather die and be with them than see another suffer as he did, while Fearne is fueled by selfishness, loneliness and a feeling of abandonment. She has been lied to her whole life, her purpose as merely a piece in an exchange of business.

It pushes Fearne over the edge. She can’t stand not to be supported by the one person she has given her heart and soul to. She runs. If Orym doesn’t want her, then she doesn’t want him. 

She lets it all loose, her rage, her grief, all concentrated into pure chaotic havoc. It takes the Bell’s some times to get her back to her senses, or at the very least, calm her down enough to talk again.

Because, hey, look! Fresh Cut Grass, Imogen, and Chetney have all had their “sudden violent outburst”, but they still love them. They love her, too, even if they’re upset. Imogen and Fearne are sisters through the light of Ruidus, after all! She of all people understands Fearne’s heartache, just as Orym understands Imogen’s. 

They just need time, but Fearne is wary of time. Time messed up her life. She doesn’t even know if she’s 20 or 200. In that regard, Ashton knows better than anyone what it’s like to have time stolen from you. 

Still, she’s calmer now, after destroying some buildings. She decides she needs some alone time, but promises she’ll come back. She just needs to think. Reflect. The Bell’s agree, promising that they’ll figure out a way to move forward.

Fearne comes back after a while, she seems her normal self. Orym is the first to be suspicious. If Fearne does anything (beyond stealing), it’s cling. Cling to feelings, cling to habits, cling to memories, cling to ambition, cling to people. 

He keeps watch on her through the corner of his eyes. Something’s not right, but he doesn’t want to mention anything yet. He’s still upset, but he doesn’t want to cause more strife between the Hell’s, him, and Fearne. 

And in the dead of night, when everyone is sleeping, Fearne’s face flickers, her furry hindquarters shifting from soft spotted brown to opalescent skin, her ears shrinking and become round, her sea-foam green hair draining of color until it is the color of snow, her wide eyes filling with an ocean of ink. The flowers adorning her body wither and drop to the floor.

A grin crosses her face, but not the mischievous grin the Bell’s are used to. This one is sly. Ashley gets up silently, leaves the room without a word, and in walks a familiar face, just as an equally-familiar face stands where Fearne once did.

[funeralprocessor]

Replaying AC6 has me thinking about one of the weirder things from my worldbuilding project that was initially inspired by, among other things, the handler/pilot relationship. I don't have the terminology nailed down but I'm tentatively calling them Scions/War Princes, who're the mech/pilot equivalent in this analogy. The tldr is that they're kind of like purebred demigods, with everything that entails.

I got to thinking about the whole magical chosen bloodlines and descended from great heroes thing, which led me to thinking about sort of lamarkian evolution, and the end result of all of that is the Varya Supremacy, a horrible glorious empire of self made living deities forming elaborate dynasties and treating their children as somewhere between WMDs and pedigree animals.

The handler equivalent, called the Athame, were originally subordinates who were their (brainwashed and conditioned) right hands and stewards but primarily existed to carry their namesakes, a specialized weapon tuned to an individual Prince and capable of instantly killing them should they go rogue, betray their lineage, or simply need disposing of. Athame were hypercompetent by mortal standards and managed basically all the affairs of the Prince, who in turn were often remarkably reliant on their Blade. This is entirely by design. The dependency and devotion are cultivated by nearly every element of their roles to ensure that such valuable property can't easily run amok. A Prince is trained to find harming their Blade unthinkable, and Athame is conditioned to kill their Scion without thought, should the call come.

The Varya would fall in a great cataclysm, and with them would die the need for Princes and Blades, but not all who held such titles. The surviving Athame found their masters dead, their conditioning broken, and a wrathful demigod loyal only to them by their side in a world suddenly thrown into calamity. Their responses to the situation varied but needless to say the era had many many Athame warlords. Some ruled with their princes as equals (or something like it), some treated them as little more than weapons (which not all scions objected to), but all would be scourges against peace for many generations. As is so often the case, they would come to repeat the mistakes of their ancestors, but in trying to avoid their mistakes they commit far worse ones.

Lacking the surgical precision of Varya social controls to keep their tools in line, they opted for the hammer instead: modify them in ways that both enhance and hobble them, treat them comfortably but as subhuman, and minimize contact they have with anyone other than their Athame. Most would not need to endure this treatment long. Despite being treated as weapons of mass destruction and living for war, the leading cause of death for these princes was natural causes. Most were severely inbred in pursuit of greater power or to maintain a particular lineage's abilities, and the supernatural nature of their bloodline only exacerbates the deleterious effects. Most could expect to live only a few decades before the power seething in them destroys their bodies and minds beyond survival. Later dynasties would take this to the extreme: mass produced pseudo-clones with lifespans measured in months, force aged and kept in stasis when not deployed. Their whole waking lives were spent killing, and carefully micromanaged to keep it that way.

That more or less brings us to the modern day. All of what's been discussed is fairly ancient history but as ever, the sins of the past haunt the present. Those mass produced princes were *mass* produced, and while a lot of the stasis chrysalises were damaged or destroyed not all of them were. Caches of them are discovered every so often, and modern medicine can treat their genetic and pneumatic instability, leading to a slow trickle of them into wider society. That brings us to the modern day Athame. Their dynasties fell, the titular blades are mostly lost treasures, but the name endured. The scions were not the only group of powerful people who like the power but aren't so good at the people, and the legends of the Princes of the Varya and their Blades are deep seated in the minds of many cultures, so emulation of the (romanticized, usually far more equal) relationship was nearly inevitable. These Athame have extremely varied but inevitably very close relationships with their (don't have a term for the ones who aren't Princes), which conveniently is exactly what many of the revived war princes need.

Anyway sorry for the wall of text. Also fun fact Prince & Blade is one of the character types for the ttrpg I'm working on (slowly)

[bits-of-bedlam-writing]

Safely in Bondage- part 2

This finally has a title. It also has explicit sex and blood drinking, moderate bdsm, arguable fear play.

Direct continuation of the last part I posted.

He hauled her up roughly against his chest, his arms locked around her like a vice. The world seemed to freeze in anticipation as his mouth pressed against her neck. He inhaled her, the familiar scent mixture of floral and musk from the wild-dwelling elf caused him to salivate. He closed his eyes, relishing in her still obedience. His cold breath on her neck drew a quiet moan from her.

He finally peirced her tender flesh, carefully positioned just far enough from her old healing bruises. The crimson life's blood flowed from the wound, quickening with her gasp. The icy pain lasted but a moment before warm arousal smothered it, he sucked gently against the wound, savoring his first mouthful.

As their fluids blended, both stones began to glow softly. The metal in the ring and collar warmed gently and Astarion felt an instinctive call from the artifacts.

-Consecrate-

A whispered suggestion.

The idea filled him with a lustful need rivaling blood and he initially obeyed without thought or question.

His firm grasp began to wander, one hand wrapped itself tightly in her hair and his ringed hand found her throat. He continued to feed but let himself be sloppy. A single precious rivlet ran down her throat.

-Consecrate-

A demand. The Right Thing to do.

Keya was too lost already to realize anything was amiss, but thankfully he caught himself. Though his whole body thrummed with pleasure and need, this was something different. Something permanent. The sudden shock of fear, of becoming like Him, was enough to steady himself.

He pulled away, breathless. "Are you sure you want this, my love?" He fixed her eyes to his, shaking with his restraint. He needed to be sure. "There's no going back."

-Consecrate!-

A bellowed command, nearly buckling his knees.

The blood running down her neck was maddening; the need to possess and consume her was like a drowning man's hunger for air.

She smiled up at him languidly at first, but she could feel his desperation. With effort, she forced herself back to her body and wits. Her face set with determination and her eyes lit with passion. "I'm sure."

The artifacts, already halfway attuned to their wearers, felt the conflict in Astarion and responded by sparking the same awareness and drive into Keya.

-Consecrate-

A simple instruction. Telling her how to do what she already wanted.

She took his ringed hand firmly by the wrist and moved it up her throat, to the blood that called him. "I desire no way back from you." She whispered solemnly as her blood flowed through the channels in the rings inscription, to her master where it belonged.

In an instant, he felt the sweet fluid siphoned by the ring wet his lips. He leaned forward to kiss her deeply, to share the taste of her, as a wave of relief washed over them both. They moan together as they worked in tandem, like one mind, disrobing eachother peice by peice.

Without notice, Keya's new wound closed quickly, but her life still flowed to him slowly. Blood coated the inside of his mouth, soothing his hunger. His pushed her forward roughly, down onto her hands and knees.

She offered no resistance, looking over her shoulder at him. He was a marvel in the moonlight, and her face obviously betrayed her admiration.

"Always so eager for me." He teased, watching her squirm. He savored the feeling, the power. The ownership of something- someone entirely his own and, even as he drew her very life-force away to himself, he realized that he could allow no harm to come to her. Even by His hand.

Vulnerable and prostrate before him, a shiver ran down her spine. With a mind and desires of their own, her hips rocked, urging him into her. She felt her wet need dripping down her thigh.

"Please..." She begged with a moan.

He aligned his length to her entrance easily, halting just at the short of plunging into her. "As you wish, my precious pet." And with a wicked grin he bore down into her, hand tight in her tangled hair.

Her eyes rolled back as he stroked slowly into her cunt, advancing just barely with each thrust. An intentional gradual build up to drive her wild, both of them knowing she was so slick that she could've taken him to the hilt immediately. The slow, methodical pace robbing her of any remaining trace of reason or control.

He leaned over her, his hand snaking back to her sweet delicate throat, and pulled her to his chest. Blood dripped from his lips, landing on the pale skin of her shoulder. It is only then, rutting into her like a fuck toy, that he realized he never stopped drawing from her.

She was too lost in their passion to notice that the pendant still glowed softly against her clavicle, willing her heart to race and produce more blood, an apparently endless buffet for her dark lover. But he finally noticed and dissipated the effect, wiping his mouth with his ringed hand.

He felt so empowered. She was safe from him, safe from his urges. His head spun with the possibilities. He bit down into her shoulder, watching his ring through heavy, half lidded eyes. It glowed against her neck. Assured, he all but tore her open, ravishing her. Trails of red adorned her brests and back and the contentment he felt settle in his chest was as close as he'd known to warmth in many years.

She cried out at the sudden pain, her heart and mind trusting, but her body finally unable to suppress the fear of the blatant predator that ensnared her. She strained away, but he wrapped his arm around her and tightened his grasp on the sides of her throat. Something in this true, helpless fear plucked at her like a harp string and she finally came undone in a climax so severe that her legs could no longer hold her.

Her mind struggled to clear, their linked pleasure making it hard to even hold onto her panic. She panted and quivered in his grasp, already building toward another orgasm as his hands explored her roughly, possessively. Her moans and whimpers, her tight cunt, her quivering body, all tantalized his senses.

But what finally pushed him over the edge was the soothing feeling of fullness he finally found after gorging himself on her. He'd drank twice what he could find in a large beast, and unfathomably more delicious and satisfying. He released her brutalized flesh from his maw and gave a guttural moan as he spent himself inside of her. As though to accentuate it, she shook with pleasure and came again with him.

They fell heavily together onto the bedding below them, disregarding the various fluids they landed in. Keya turned over in slow, shakey movements, utterly spent. Astarion glanced at the gem at her throat, ensuring the faint light indicating that it was still restoring her.

She drew close to him, tucking herself neatly against his blood smeared chest. His arms curled around her and he drew a blanket up around her shoulders. They rested calmly, but the silence hung thick with questions she would have once she was well enough to ask them.

"It was the pendant." He began simply, softly. "It let your body produce blood at an astonishing rate." He kissed the top of her head absently, keeping his giddy excitement quelled. She needed calm and quiet in this state, one tearful incident was all the lesson he needed for that one.

"My treasure," he muttered, stroking her hair. "My marvelous treasure, trusting me so and giving me such an amazing gift."

She gave a contented sigh that he felt against his chest more than he heard it.

He gently traced his fingers over her shoulder, inspecting. The skin was angry and red but not as bad as he would expect. "I don't think I can hurt you." He continued. Again, he felt rather than saw her look up at him with that pursed lipped "oh really?" He knew so well.

He chuckled. "Well, not permanently." He soothed. "And I would never let anyone hurt you." He continued. He was so earnest, it surprised them both. But while she imagined harpies and bandits, he saw only one face when he made the vow.

He waited some time for her to perk up, rouse and move to be escorted to her bed roll. But she didn't. Her breath slowed to a medative rest again, and he heard her heartbeat slow but keep steady.

He finally drifted off with her, unmoving. As they both relived their evening peacefully, unseen blue eyes scried down on them from among the stars, malicious.

[welcometothewhitelotus]

“I healed you,” I say quietly, blinking back tears, “when you were trapped in that suit. You… left me, to be a Sith. Nine months pregnant, with our toddler. I don’t care what Palpatine said to you- you made a decision. You didn’t warn me, didn’t call me, I had the same comm number for years because I kept- I kept hoping you’d turn up. But even as Vader, you never called me.”

“Anyone else would have killed you, so weak in body and spirit. I watched this child, a child that looks like you, sounds like you, that you named our chosen names for our children, bully my son. And you just stood there. Didn’t even say anything. Just watched. You betrayed our marriage- I do not care that you needed someone. I understand needing someone. It’s been fact that you picked her of all people. Might’ve been you self-sabotaging yourself, but it still hurts. If I had been dead, it’s a terrible thing to do to my memory.”

I move in and untie Luca, setting him onto his bed, “and yet, this little son wanted nothing more than to spend time with you. Do you know why? Because Ben and I spent fifteen years talking about how wonderful his father was. I named him for you, Luca Anakin, and all he wanted to do was live up to your name. I don’t know if I would have told those stories, had I known.”

“I’m very hurt,” I look over at him, “you hurt me.”

Anakin closes his eyes, tears streaming down his cheeks as he gives you a small nod. "'m sorry," he whispers, "I'm- it'll never make a difference, I know, but I can't tell you how sorry I am. It's not... because I was caught, or just because I know I'll have to work for what I had before all of this mess. I truly am just so... so angry with myself," he hangs his head, "And I don't- if it makes you feel better I know I don't deserve to be here. And I'll- I'll leave if that's what you want. Please just... please know I never stopped loving you. I never stopped dreaming about you, even after we were together and especially not after we were separated for all that time."

"I didn't reach out, you're right. Because I figured you would hate me. And I didn't- selfishly I didn't want to look at you, the one person I have cared about so deeply for nearly my whole life, and see hatred in your eyes. I decided that- that was just- the one thing I couldn't handle. Instead I've given myself something worse. Instead I now get to look at you and see all the pain I've caused you and know that we will never be sixteen again and you will never be in my arms in my bed again and I may never get to kiss you the way I've wanted to so badly," he breathes, taking a moment to hold in a sob. "I've done this to myself. And to everyone else. So maybe I don't deserve my sons. Maybe I don't deserve that second chance. They don't deserve to be associated with the person that ruined their chance to live a peaceful life here with all of you."

"But I'm not... going to stop trying," he says quietly. "I'm never going to stop trying to show all of you, in my actions or with my words, how sorry I am and how much I regret what I did. Because I love you so much that even if I get torn apart and rejected every time I make a step forward with progress, it is still worth trying to get you back."

[jungwonenthusiast]

hi ! enhypen smut prompt request ! can i have the reader whos a female say #4 with jake or sunghoon whos a hard dom ?? if u can , can u add how the reader and the partner are enemies who got lots of sexual tension so they kinda trease e/o a lot with words and actions ? u dont have to use that plot but thank u♡

A/N: This is one of my favorite works now lol i hope u like it :) <3

Warnings: unprotected sex, rly brief oral (f recieving), degredation

Word Count: 2.9 k

“But it’s a Tuesday,” you tell Jay while zipping up your backpack.

“So?” he says. “Don’t be lame.”

“I’m not lame, just responsible.” you sing your bag over your shoulder.

“Yeah, that’s lame.” he walks with you to the lunch tables. Jungwon and Heeseung are already there chatting it up.

“You guys are coming right?” Jay asks them and they nod. “See? You gotta come.”

“It’ll be fun noona,” Jungwon says. “And you have to come because Heeseung hyung and Jay hyung are probably gonna leave me for girls.” he rests his head on your shoulder for a moment.

“Why don’t you get yourself some girls too.” you suggest and he shakes his head.

“I’m too shy.” he says quietly and you giggle.

“Alright fine, I’ll go.” you finally say and they all celebrate. “Jake’s not gonna be there right?”

“Uhm,” Heeseung looks over to Jake’s lunch table nervously. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so?” you cock an eyebrow.

“He won’t be there,” Jay says. “It’ll be fine.”

You feel someone bump into your shoulder as you walk to history.

“What the hell?” you say and turn around to see who the culprit is. Of course it’s Jake. He shrugs with a half smile. That fucking ass.

After a few more classes you head home and start preparing for the bonfire party. It’s at a beach so you decide to wear your favorite bikini under your shirt and shorts. Your phone begins to buzz and it's a facetime call from Jungwon.

“Hola~” you greet him.

“Hi~” he says. “Can you take me there? My parents are at work.”

“Sure.” you say while putting all of your essentials into a purse.

“Also,” he hesitates. “I think Jake hyung is gonna be there.”

“What? How do you know?”

“I heard him talking about it during p.e.” he says quietly and you groan.

“Fuck, I don’t wanna go anymore.” you say.

“No you have to go, I will die without you.” Jungwon pleads. “It’ll be fun, we'll just stay away from him.”

“It’s gonna be hard to stay away from that giant ego taking up the whole place.” you roll your eyes.

“He’s not that bad noona, he’s actually pretty nice.” Jungwon shrugs.

“Don’t betray me like that,” you scold him. “You’re on my team alright?”

“Okay okay.” he surrenders, giggling.

You pick Jungwon up and give him the aux for the 30 minute drive to the beach.

You guys groove to SZA together.

Jungwon rolls down the window while you're on the highway and sticks his head out like a dog. He kind of is like a dog (in a good way). He’d be a shiba inu.

“Whoooo!!” he screams as the wind whips through his hair, you smile.

When you get there you park your car and get the beach towels from the backseat.

“Did you put sunscreen on?” you as Jungwon and he shakes his head. “Why do you never listen to me?”

You get a bottle of sunscreen out of your purse and rub a dollop on his face. He scrunches his nose.

“It feels like you're rubbing cake batter on me.” he complains.

“You’ll thank me when you’re fifty and you aren’t a wrinkly wreck.” you tell him while spreading it over his cheeks.

“Can we be done now?” he whines and you sigh.

“Fine.”

You two approach the crowd of people suntanning, drinking, playing volleyball, and playing in the ocean.

You drop your stuff next to Heeseung’s and Jay’s before looking around for them. They’re playing volleyball with who on the opposing team? Jake Sim.

Jungwon must’ve noticed you shooting lasers through your eyes because he grabs your arm. “Come on, let’s go swim.” he tugs his t-shirt over his head and jogs over to the water.

You follow suit, only feeling a little self conscious about stripping with Jake Sim only so far away. But it’s only because you don’t want to be vulnerable in front of your worst enemy, right?

Jungwon’s already relaxing among the waves when you get to the shore. “Why’d you go so deep?” you call out to him.

“It’s not that deep,” he says back.

You swim around with him for a bit before forcing him to look for pretty shells with you.

He gasps. “Baby crab!” he rushes to pick it up. “Look.” he holds it up to you.

You try to pet it without freaking it out. “What if it bites you?”

“It won’t, we’re friends.”

The sun is nearly gone by the time you’re done shell searching and swimming so you head over to the bonfire. You wrap a towel around yourself and snuggle up to Jay. He scrunches his nose.

“It’s cold,” you defend yourself.

Heeseung hands you a white claw and you crack it open.

“What are we doing now?” you ask but you can’t hear Heeseung’s answer over the sight of Jake, Sunghoon, Sunoo, and Niki sitting right across from you. You notice how the bonfire highlights the muscles in Jake’s chest and arms. The warm orange light washing over him makes it look like he’s glowing. Is this what Apollo would’ve looked like? “Huh?” you ask Hee.

“We’re probably just gonna play dumb highschool games.” he says.

You inhale and take a big swig of your seltzer.

“Truth or dare time~” Bree sing songs. “Sunoo truth or dare?”

“Truth,” Sunoo answers.

“Do you have a crush on anyone and if so, who?” she asks and he rolls his eyes.

“I have a crush on myself.” he says confidently.

“Fair enough, you go now.” she says to him.

“Heeseung hyung, truth or dare?” Sunoo asks.

“Dare,” he replies and Sunoo giggles.

“Give your phone to Jay and let him text anyone anything he wants.”

Heeseung groans and throws his head back. “Oh God.”

Jay cackles an evil laugh. “Gimme.”

Heeseung reluctantly hands Jay his phone. “You’re gonna text Sophie aren’t you.”

Sophie Morales, Heeseung ex. They broke up only a month ago after half a year of dating. This was about to be brutal.

“You know me so well.” Jay smiles.

“Please don’t say anything too horrible.” Heeseung pleads.

“Sophie,” Jay narrates his text message. “I miss you and your huge tits. Also I’m sorry for not telling you while we were dating but your feet are really fucking ugly.”

Heeseung buries his head into his hands, laughing. “Fucking Christ.”

“And your breath stinks,” Jay continues. “At least your boobs are nice.”

This is what I get for befriending males. You think to yourself.

“Alright that’s enough.” Heeseung snatches his phone away while everyone giggles. “My turn since I was the victim. y/n, truth or dare?” “Truth,”

“What’s your biggest regret?”

“Becoming friends with Jay, because he’s insane.”

Jay guffaws. “I’ve been nothing but good to you.”

You roll your eyes.

The game goes on for a bit until it lands on Jungwon.

“Noona, truth or dare?”

You’d usually go for truth, but you didn’t want people to think you were boring. “Dare.”

“I dare you and Jake hyung to talk to each other in private for at least five minutes.” he says, crossing his arms.

Your eyes widen and you look over at Jake, he looks like he wants to drown himself.

“What? Why?” you ask urgently.

“Because I’m tired of you guys hating each other for no reason. Now go.” Jungwon shoos you away.

“Yeah go talk.” Niki says to Jake.

Both of you don’t budge. Jay tugs at your arm. “Come on, Jake and y/n becoming friends!”

The whole group starts chanting. “JAKE AND Y/N BECOMING FRIENDS!”

You had to admit that their enthusiasm was kind of endearing, so you swallow your pride and walk over to the lifeguard tower. You hear him not far behind you.

You climb up the stairs and let your feet hang over the ledge of the patio.

He sits down next to you.

You let a few moments of silence pass before speaking up. “I don’t want to be here as much as you do, so let’s just wait for the five minutes to pass and then go.”

“Damn,” he says. “Do you really hate me that much?”

You roll your eyes. “What do you think?”

“What did I ever do to you?” he scoffs.

“I don’t need to justify my feelings.” you cross your arms.

“Why are you so dense?” he grumbles.

You whip your body over to him. “I’m the dense one?”

“Yeah,” he says proudly. You want to slap the smug look off of his pretty face. Normal face. Slightly, almost, barely good looking face.

“Such a prick,” you mumble, turning away.

“What’d you call me?” he scrunches his eyebrows.

You look him right in the eyes. You never noticed how dark and piercing they were. “A fucking prick. Cause you are one.”

His black hair is still damp and poking into his eyes. His lips are parted and they look so soft that you almost want to kiss him. But he beats you to it.

I should push him away. Push him away you dumbass. You kept telling yourself but you couldn’t do it. His lips felt too good against yours.

Your arms snake around his waist as he lays you onto your back.

You wish you had a hundred hands so you could touch all of him. Two weren’t enough. He feels like silk and he tastes like red velvet.

He pushes your jaw up so he can get to your neck. You exhale as his tongue dances on your skin. He grinds his hips into yours and you let out a small moan. Why are you letting him affect you like this? Idiot.

“I thought you hated me?” he smirks while kissing your chest.

“I do.” you breathe out.

“You sure?” he asks, his fingers traveling down your stomach and into your bikini bottoms.

“Mhm.” you say.

He kisses your collarbone. “People you hate don’t make you wet like this.”

That just makes you throb even more.

“Fuck off,” you say and he backs up.

“Really?” he says. “Because I will.”

You roll your eyes and pull him in by the back of the neck.

“Touch me,” you say and he happily obliges. You knew were in public but it was dark and honestly, you didn’t care.

“Such a slut,” he says while running a finger up and down your slit. “If you wanted me this badly you should’ve said so sooner.”

“I don’t want you asshole.” you breathe out as he circles your clit.

“You just asked me to touch you princess,” he kisses your neck. “I think that’s good evidence.”

You rub your fingers through the back of his hair and tug it back, exposing his neck. He lets out a small moan. You kiss his neck, sucking and nibbling every now and then. When you pull away there’s at least three red blotches that go from his throat to his chest.

“People are gonna see those you know?” he says.

“Whatever.” you roll your eyes.

“Are you marking me or something? Telling everyone that I’m yours?” he boasts.

It’s confusing how your anger is feeding into your lust for him.

“Shut up and fuck me.” you say and he cocks a brow.

“Maybe if you ask nicely,” he kisses your cheek sweetly. You want to wipe it off and slap him in the face.

“Who do you think you are?” you scoff at him.

“Come on dont play with me,” he pushes one finger into you and you moan. “I can tell that you want it.”

It was true. You were practically gushing.

“More,” you say, wanting another finger.

“Where are your manners?” he smirks.

You swallow your pride. “Please?”

“Good girl,” he says and it sends tingles down your spine.

He pulls your bikini bottoms to the side and rubs his thumb up your slit. “Such a pretty cunt.”

Your thighs are already trembling.

“I really thought you’d still be hating me right now.” he says lowly. “Do I make you that weak?”

You snap to your senses for a moment. “Fuck you.”

“I am.” he snickers and you roll your eyes.

“Don’t give me attitude princess.” he warns you with a dangerous smile.

“Or what?” you test him.

“Do you really wanna find out?”

“What do you think you’re intimidating or something?” you ask and he scoffs.

He sits up and grabs your arm. “Get up.”

“What?”

“Get up.” he says sternly and you do.

He grabs your hand, leading you somewhere.

“Where are we going?” you ask, agitated. If you really didn’t want to go you wouldn’t, but you secretly wanted to continue what was going on.

“My car.”

“What? Why?”

“You’ll see.”

“Hey! Where are you going?” Jungwon calls out. “Don’t leave me!” “I’ll be just a second!” you reply with an unsure smile.

“Backseat.” Jake says as you approach his Mercedes.

So bossy, you think.

You sit in the back seat and before you know it he’s pulling you into his lap.

“Let’s continue shall we?” he says and you don’t waste any time getting your lips on his.

He pushes your hips down onto his and you whimper. You were already so wet and this was just making it worse.

“Please, I can’t wait any longer.” you say, not being able to hold it in.

“For what?” he nips at your neck.

“I need to feel you inside of me.” you plead. 

“That’s better.” he tugs his shorts down and pulls your swimsuit to the side.

You grab the base of him before slowly sinking down. “Fuck yes.” you moan in relief.

He fills you up perfectly and his tip brushes your g-spot every time you bounce.

“So fucking tight.” he growls, holding onto your hips tight.

Your legs begin to tremble from the pleasure so he grabs you by the waist and lays you on your back.

He snaps his hips into yours and you whine.

He smirks. “Look at you all spread out for me,” he kisses your neck. “Taking this cock deep inside you.”

Your fingers trail down to rub at your clit. “Please don’t stop.”

He flips you over into doggy and tugs your hair, bringing your ear up to his mouth.

“Tell me how bad you want it.”

“Really bad,” you whimper.

He smacks your ass and you let out a small squeal.

“Touch with yourself while I fuck you.” he lets you go and you rest on the door. Your fingers move to play with your pussy.

His hands are tight on your waist as he pounds into you.

You feel your knees start to give out and your cunt start to pulse around him.

He chuckles. “Are you close sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” you exhale. “Please make me cum, please I need it so bad.”

“Why should I think you deserve it?”

“Please, I can’t hold it any longer.” you say and he stops his movements completely.

He gets close to your ear. “You get to cum when I say so okay?”

You accept defeat. “Okay.”

You start to get more and more flustered as he continues to fuck you just right.

“Fuck Jake I can’t,” you whimper and hold onto the car door for dear life.

He pulls out suddenly and you complain before feeling his tongue on you. Your body tenses up from the pleasure.

“You taste so fucking good,” he says and you arch your back, pushing your pussy into his mouth. He moans against you.

After only a couple circles on your clit with his tongue, you’re ready to come undone. You grab onto his hand.

“Wait wait I’m close,”

And before you can utter another word he slams his cock into you and brings his hand around you to rub your clit.

“Cum on this cock sweetheart, I know you can do it.” he encourages you.

He smiles as your moans get louder and more high pitched.

Your legs start to shake and he grabs you tight. He comes up to your ear. “Be a good girl for me won’t you.”

Your eyes roll back as bliss runs through your entire body. He was probably the best lay you’ve ever had.

Your body goes slack as he cums inside of you.

“Fuck,” he growls and slowly pulls out. He picks you up and holds you in his arms as you try to ride out the trembling.

“How am I supposed to clean up?” you ask.

“Maybe you can swim again?” he jokes and you punch him in the arm. “Do you still hate me?”

“One hundred percent.” you say confidently.

“Are you kidding?” he scoffs. “My kids are in you right now.”

You fake gag and he laughs.

[raggaraddy]

hello if you want you can ignore this of course but I was wondering what would vampire Hoseok do if he found out someone turned oc? Your fics are amazing by the way!

Bitten to death

A/N: Thank you for your request :) It was fun to write. However I took it less as a reaction, and more of a story prompt. So it's not exactly a conclusive answer to your question. I hope you still like it, though ^-^ 💜💜💜

Summary: You thought you knew everything about Vampires but when you wake up one you learn there are some important things you did not know. And it's only going to let worse once you learn why you were turned.

Trigger Warnings: Blood, death, maiming, choking, violence, mind control, abduction, yandere themes.

Vampire! Hoseok

It was like a horror story within your already horrific story. Some man you've never met before broke into Hoseok's house when only you were there. While you screamed and fought and instinctively called for Hoseok, he covered you in bites unlike any other you had felt before. Ones that made you suffer as if fire was coursing through your veins. You wish that you could say you were strong enough that your fight had some kind of impact. But in truth, it was over after only a few seconds. And it was in those few seconds that you felt your chest burning and your breath fill your lungs for the last time.

Waking you're met by the stranger hovering above you. Your head aching and your body throbbing in ways you had never experienced before. With a quick glance, you can see everything around you, and that does mean everything. Every single little detail. And the information is overwhelming.

Your mind feels as if it's breaking from everything you're taking in. For as far as you can see there are pallets and long isles of shelves lined up, the contents on every rack crystal clear. You can hear the sound of his shoes on the concrete and the dirt gritting underneath, and how each peak of sound travels and bounces off the farthest point in the warehouse. Even the smells, there are hundreds of them all hitting you at once. A few you know like the fragrance of the treated wood or the oils stain, but others you couldn't guess at. It's as if all of your senses are on high and you have no way to focus them.

Despite your panic, no matter how much you want to run, you can't. Laying on your back with your arms spread out to either side of you and your legs held together, you're being bound by the thinnest most delicate length of silver chain. Though, it's not tied. It's only draped over you, but still holding you as if it were stronger than any steel. Burning you as if it were touched by the sun.

You may have only seen a few newly made vampires before, but you have still been around them enough and know enough about their existence to recognize how and why your body feels wrong. And absurdly you can't help but feel betrayed. This was not supposed to happen to you. It was the only safety you got from belonging to someone who was called The Immortal King, and The Origin of Cruelty. No one was supposed to be foolish enough to steal from him, and most importantly, no one was supposed to be able to hurt you. But now because Hobi didn't keep you safe, he's now lost his blood supply and you've lost your humanity.

The stranger snaps his fingers, the sound bursting in your eardrums making you groan and wince as he repeats it. "Focus your attention on just this one sound. On just the sight of my hand. Feel the air around it." He coaxes you, snapping again. The noise echos dozens of times, ricocheting off every wall. The dull thud of his fingertips hitting his palm only sounding the once though.

Opening your eyes your concentration goes to the hand held above your face as he said, the space around it blurring. On the back of his pointer finger on an otherwise porcelain complexion, you notice a small patch of dry skin just below his knuckle. Clear blue-black defined veins wrapping the back of his palm. He clicks his fingers again and you catch the sound of friction from the way his finger rubs down his thumb, feeling the most minuscule shift in the air created by his motion.

The pinpointed attention helps for a moment, but then you shift your eyes to his face and the explosion of information overpowers you again. His hold comes around your neck keeping your head from turning. The tight pressure on your throat while stifling your movement, nearly makes you smile. There's no airflow to restrict. Your chest isn't heating, your body isn't convulsing trying to breathe. Even in this tense moment, you can't help but find it humorous, thinking how many times over the years had you wished for this exact thing when Hobi had squeezed the air from you.

"Watch my eyes," on his words your vision becomes immersed in them. They're piercing blue. Made up of streaks of white interlacing with a clear sapphire shade, like thousands of threads made out of the purest tropical ocean. A transparent irregular line encircling his pupil, and beyond that every distinct strand blurs together with the others until it reaches the shadowed grey edge that holds the circular shape. Slowly his jet black pupils dilate, stretching and filling his entire iris till every trace of colour is removed. As if transfixed, you're unable to close your own eyes, a flooding of bright light filling your field of view. The strength of it is so intense that the tendons in your sockets ache and your eyes begin to water. Tears rolling down the sides of your face, cresting in your ears.

"Apologies, you are only my second." He confuses you with a vague explanation you did not ask for. The black finally receding into its natural size. Your own eyes scrunching as you try to blink away the soreness. The bizarre occurrence leaving you feeling drained of strength, filling you with anxiety caused by the uncertainty, which is only worsened by the glimmer of triumph in his gaze.

Searching past him to the ceiling your brain is again processing the whole image instead of the sum of its parts. The strain in your head slowly fading, your tight held muscles releasing as everything begins to normalize. You don't know what he did, but it seemed to help.

He doesn't back away, continuing to invade your personal space. Although, the way his fingers are trailing along your skin while you're restrained on the floor is still not the worst thing he has done to you. Seeing as he killed you.

"I had almost given up hope that Jung Hoseok would love." His hand daintily caresses along your neck and up your jaw. Your eyes shutting as his fingertips run over your lips. "I began to fear it might not be something possible for him." He divulges, his touch still aimlessly wandering.

The way he speaks you can feel his vailed anger. Despite his soft words, this is not someone who cares about Hoseok's wellbeing, this is someone who hates him deeply.

"However, you restored my lost faith. And for that, I would like to thank you, Inamorata."

He thinks Hoseok loves you? Is he crazy?. He's possessive of you, that is all. Even in moments of deception or weakness when you had told him that you loved him, he's never said it back with any sincerity. And he has never said it of his own accord.

"Sir," your eyes reopen. "I think you've misunderstood. These," you weakly gesture to the silver, each slight movement searing the links deeper into your flesh. "aren't necessary. We are on the same side. I hate Hobi, more than anyone."

"Truly?" He asks tilting his head to the side. His white hair messily hanging across his forehead.

"Yes," you nod trying to insist your point. "He's kept me locked up for years." you chuckle dryly. Finding it nearly risible that all of this is because this man believes in a fantasy.

"Well then, you are free to rise," he nods resolutely. Plucking the chains out of your melted skin as you grit your teeth. The sound of the sizzle on his own skin baffling you as to how he can even lift them.

Sitting up you gently pull your limbs in, inspecting the blistered and bloody marks. The skin on your wrists already starting to intricately knit itself back together.

"Come here." The stranger calls from a rested place on one of the pallets to your right.

Standing, it is a bit hard to walk with your ankles still cut up but you make it to him decently. Looking around you, you can see the sun streaming in from the high windows that line the whole length of the warehouse. It's enough to light up the otherwise dark space, but with the sheer size of this place, the beams of sunlight do not get close to the two of you in the centre. Still in the middle of the day, it means Hobi can't get to you. Not easily at least. So you're on your own for now.

"Kneel." He instructs plainly. And you follow, lowering onto your knees in front of him. Your only thoughts are of escape. You may be in your first minutes as a vampire, but it should be simple to move quickly. It always seemed like something that came easily to them. "Inamorata, you will call me Master." he declares abruptly.

"Yes, Master." You smile confusedly. Inamorata? Why does he keep calling you that? You're unsure if it's a name or a title, but it's weirding you out.

Your face drops, your heart thumping, realizing what you said. The words you just spoke replaying in your head. You hadn't meant to say that.

Why did you say that?

In fact, why had you knelt? Why were you doing what he said at all?

With a gaped mouth you climb back to your feet. "Look, I think-um." You start not knowing what you want to say.

"Kneel." He orders again more forcefully yet with a knowing, jovial smirk. You shake your head hard, staying upright. You're not going to let him order you around. He has to be kidding.

Your brows furrow, your mouth drops open, and your forehead tightens as your knees bend against your wishes. You drop back into your knelt position. Grunting as your jaw clenches, your fingers digging into your legs, doing your best to resist without success.

Your eyes go wide in shock.

"Good. Now stay there," his voice makes your stomach drop. But your muscles relax, your shoulders dropping and your bottom lowering on your calves. Your body resting in this position.

This is nothing you have ever seen before. It's nothing that you knew was possible. It shouldn't be possible. On top of all the horrible advantages they already have, you're sure you would have known if mind control was one of them!

"How?" You gape, shaking your head in disbelief. "Why?"

"Why?" a smile fills his face, "What you have told me is far different than what I had heard." He stands and turns, tapping his foot against the top pallet sending it and its boxed contents flying. He grabs at the bottom slats of wood underneath and drags them closer to you with a horrid screeching on the concrete. Sitting back down he is now much lower and much nearer to you. So much so that his legs spread straight out on either side of you. "See, I had heard stories of the self-proclaimed King of Vampires, who had fallen in love with his human pet. That he kept her close, kept her safe, and drank from her exclusively."

"That's not love." you interrupt with a scoff, "That's imprisonment."

"Well, let us see what the truth is. Tell me honestly, Jung Hoseok's little Inamorata, do you love him?"

"Yes." You're mouth answers before your mind has time to think. "No!" you instantly correct.

The smile grows larger on his face "And what do you feel about him?"

"I'm scared of him. But I care for him." The words are pouring out of you uncontrollably, your face placifying as you speak. "and I miss him when he isn't home."

"And does he love you?"

"I think so, yes." You wish you could make yourself shut up! Your calm tone drops and you bite your jaw trying to take back your own body, growling as you do. "No! He doesn't." you snarl in a rapid shift.

"You think so? Then my last question; Do you want him to love you?" He asks satirically.

"Yes," The word slips out. Being accepted joyously from him. "You can't just make me say anything you want!" you shout. Your body is rigid and stiff as you think to stand with nothing happening.

"I did not," he chuckles, "I made you say what you believe is true."

"No, you didn't! Tha-" his finger raises to his lips shushing you, cutting you off like your voice had disappeared.

That is not how you feel! Hobi may have gotten better as time has gone on, but he is still cruel and malicious and heartless. The only thing this man is doing is speaking to your primal brain. The part of you that gave into its survival instinct and it's the part that you fight every day to repress so that you stay in control. You can't love him, it's not possible.

"Ha, you are far more amenable than my last. I can hardly feel any resistance." He mocks, tapping his temple. "And I recall Jung Hoseok trying to move heaven and earth to break free. Even Mansueto struggled to contain him. But you," he reaches down holding out his hand and you follow his gesture, your body moving independently to accept it. "You are a broken little thing."

You don't understand his ridicule. You're not moving consciously. Your own mind isn't connected to your actions. So you can't fathom how your body is even reacting, let alone how you should be able to fight it.

"Stop." You complain, your voice coming out with far less strength than you had intended. "Look, Hoseok doesn't have my blood anymore, okay. So just leave me out of whatever fucked up feud you have you have going with him."

"No, that is not enough." his tone becomes suddenly harsh. He lifts his hand and you stand as he raises it. "He stole someone precious to me and he must feel the same agony of loss."

"You're wrong." you swallow, working to overcome your nerves, "I'm sorry, but you just are. He doesn't love me. I'm not precious." You try to reason, seeing your pleas falling on an unreceptive man.

"We will see."

The sun has barely set before you hear commotion beyond the metal walls.

You had tried over and over to pry information from this man, to convince him to let you leave. But you were unable to gather so much as a name from him, and clearly, you failed to be let go. After a certain point of ignoring you, he stopped you from speaking altogether. Not allowing you to say a word until he permits it. More than that though, he filled your head with many instructions. Telling you how to behave in anticipation of Hoseok's arrival.

100 meters in front of you the locked doors are ripped off their hinges, a dozen men and women pouring into the warehouse with inhuman speed. But as if time slows down your eyes adjust and you can see them, see their movements with full clarity. Hoseok comes in last and straight down the middle into the open square that you all occupy. And you must admit, you are genuinely happy to see him. Now you just want him to hurry up and get you out of here.

The man steps forward to meet them while you are sat on the stack of pallets behind him. Your only instruction at this time is to sit quietly and wait for him to call you. Hating the feeling of being restrained by your own body.

Watching them all lineup versus a single man, you find it comical how outmatched he is.

Hobi always said that when he got tired of playing with your human body, he was going to turn you. And he was furious if anyone robbed him of even your smallest reactions, so clearly, he was going to be beyond pissed that someone sped up his plan, and took your death away from him.

"That's mine," Hoseok puffs up his chest, looking past the man's shoulder to you. 

The only thing that's confusing you, though, is if this man knows who The Vampire King is, why he didn't expect to be met with hell on earth, and why he didn't prepare better.

"Jung Hoseok, always so impolite. Do you not think you should greet an old friend after so many years?"

"We can talk all you like, Kol," Hoseok snarls, finally giving a name to your killer. "Once I get my property back."

"I think you'll find this is my belonging now." he chuckles in a brief pause. Hoseok's expression darkens, his eyes becoming murderous. The fury around him actually making you shiver. "Do you like the modifications I made? She is much more durable now."

Supposedly, Hobi's already noticed your change, because he doesn't look at you again. Instead, the two men have an intense staredown. All of the vampires on his side looking ready to kill on a word.

"And far more obedient. Come here," Kol calls you, holding his hand out at shoulder height for you to take. Moving automatically, you jump down from the stack of wooden pallets placing your fingers on his palm.

Unable to stand the rage on Hoseok's face you look down, just missing the exact moment he charges. But you see an instant later as he is thrown back like a paper doll into four stories of shelves, his weight bringing the metal, the shelves, and the products down on top of him as the whole structure collapses. His men looking as startled as you to see Hoseok so easily discarded.

Before the toppling construction settles, Kol breaks from your side and an incredible, horrible scene breaks out. His speed is something you can't follow, even now. You only see the trail of destruction when he stops. One after the other, he made his way through half of the vampires, ripping them apart. Literally tearing some in two halves. Decorating the square with blood and innards.

The others are as belated and overwhelmed as you, only just having the sense to react as his blurred image stops. When he advances again, this time he doesn't use his quickness for an advantage and simply ploughs through them. They attack all at once, and still as they grab and strike at him, their forces barely move him. And his response is terrifying.

You can only bear to watch the first one. Kol's fist driving through a woman's chest, the horrid cracking of her ribs as he tears it back out making you want to scream. But his orders have you completely silent. Instead, you close your eyes, sealing your hands over your ears. Trying to block out the violent sickening sounds of his destructive rampage.

There's a last thud before it falls quiet again. Your eyes springing open to see as horrific of a sight as you had imagined. He's dripping in blood. Drenched in it. And Hoseok's people are strewn in every which way. Not a single one having survived.

Sauntering through the sea of dead bodies, he makes his way to the side where Hoseok is unmoved, tossing away the beams and panels as if they were nothing. Grabbing him by the ankle, he drags him from the rubble into the clear space in front of you. The man you once thought of as the most powerful in existence, and his troupe of vampires, was completely demolished in mere seconds of work. And you can only watch on with your body shaking. Your hopes of rescue decimated. Your chest aching with worry, even for Hobi's sake.

"Now that it's a more intimate number of us, should we talk?" Kol releases him, brushing past you as he sits where you had before. His action triggering an instruction he provided earlier, forcing you to follow him and kneel at his feet.

Sitting up, Hoseok rubs the back of his hand against a large gash under his eye. The ferocity not having left his mannerisms. "You disappear for 90 years, and you show up to what, gimmie a blood bath." His laugh falls into a grimace as he stands himself back up.

"I was created in the 13th century and you brought infants to a fight with me. What did you think would happen?" Kol asks scornfully.

"I was hoping they would do a little better," He smirks, shrugging off their deaths. "Okay, that's my bad. But still, that doesn't tell me what you want. Or did you just want to remind me that you're still alive?" He taunts, his sardonic nature returning, "Remind me that you're still pissed and you can kick my ass. Good job. You put on quite a show." he smiles, his tongue running over his fangs as he gestures around at the gruesome display. "But she," he points to you with two fingers, bitterness lacing his next words, "is worth nothing to you."

"Oh, she is worth everything to me," Kol slides forward, his hand brushing down the back of your neck, "because she is worth everything to you."

On those words, you get the most heart-wrenching sight. A pang of insecurity shows up in Hoseok's eyes. Uncertainty and something so close to fear. The smile fading as he looks him up and down.

"I am curious, though, Vampire King, do you think she will detest the Sire bond as greatly as you did?" he punctuates the question, tugging your head back by your hair. "If I treat her as Mansueto treated you, how long do think until she breaks?"

With immense speed, Hoseok splinters one of the wooden crates near him, lunging at Kol, aiming to drive the shard into his heart with a roar. But he's caught before his hand ever plunges forward. Instead, Kol takes the sharp wood and spikes it into Hoseok's stomach. Continuing to dominate him with a solid blow, knocking him off his feet, smacking him into the concrete in front of you. Stepping down, he swings his foot punting Hoseok in the chest hurling him back among the remains of his fallen creations.

You had thought if you ever saw Hobi being handled as roughly as he treated you, that you would enjoy the Karma of it. But seeing him so easily immobilized is making you sick with fear and mostly sadness.

With Kol having stood, you're no longer bound on your knees and you scramble to your feet. You want to run to Hoseok's side but before you have the chance Kol drags you into him, his hand wrapped around your waist, his other crudely brushing the hair from off the side of your face.

"Call out to him. Tell him your every feeling." He hushes the order in your ear.

"Hobi!" you yell, not sure you would have even needed to be compelled to want to shout for him. "Get up, please. I'm scared. I wanna go home!"

"Go to him," Kol releases you and you sprint to his side, hardly able to slow your sudden frantic speed.

Doubled over Hoseok is bleeding profusely. He needs your blood- but you can't do that anymore. And you have no idea what to do. You don't know how to help him or how to get out of here. He's the one that is supposed to keep you safe.

Coming from behind you, Kol bends down shoving you out of the way to lift Hoseok by the throat. "Stop!" you follow their movement, hanging on Kol's arm. "Stop! Please." But you have no effect. Instead, he jerks the wood dagger out making Hobi yell in pain.

"Do you recall what you said as you killed our Sire?" Kol whispers maliciously. "You told me that 'I will get over it'." Releasing him, he lets Hoseok plummet to the floor and you drop with him trying to catch his weight. "In 100 years from now, I'll let you see her again and you can tell me if you were able to take your own advice." he smiles spitefully.

"Hobi," you whine lowly. Brushing his hair from his sweat and blood wet forehead. "I don't want to go with him. Rather the devil you know, right," you softly chuckle, trying to pull his energy back.

Even though you know the both of you have no chance at the moment, you guess you're just looking for an affirmation that he isn't going to let you go and let this other man keep you for the next century.

"Please," you whisper, your waterline filling with tears.

Reaching towards you, Hoseok's hand constricts around your throat, pulling you into him like he has countless times before.

"You're mine," he growls through pained grunts. His anger lessened, distress replacing it. But he gives you the answer he could see you searching for.

"Yes," you nod subtly. Closing your eyes as you lean further into his hold.

"Get up," Kol orders, interrupting you.

Despite his tightening grip, you pull away from Hobi, standing as you were told. The elder vampire taking your arm leads you away through the bodies to the open doorway.

"Say goodbye Jung Hoseok," Kol calls back, leaving him injured and alone, making you wish more than ever that you could pull back. "And do not worry, I'll take very good care of her for you."

[sugurizz]

The house is yours

Pairing : Zeke yeager x reader

Rating : explicit

Word count : 2,5k words

Summary : as a broke student, finding an apartment is not easy. But the cute owner decides to help you with it, in a way that you both get to benefit.

Warnings : soft dom! Zeke x sub!fem! reader, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, nipple play, slight spit play, vaginal sex, slight breeding kink, daddy kink

(Credits to the owner. I don't own the fanart)

After months of looking through ads, websites and even newspapers. finding a decent, comfortable and cosy appartment near the university was a dream coming true. After calling the owner and fixing a date to meet toghether and check the place, your roommate wasn't able to make it to the appointment so you had to go there on my own.

Being already anxious for the meeting, you put a pair of black jeans, a grey t-shirt, a hoodie and your white sneakers before taking your backbag and going there.

After ten minutes or so, you were at the spot you agreed to meet at. You couldn't see anyone particular so you got your phone out of your pocket, ready to call the owner again in order to spot him.

It was then when you saw a tall, broad and handsome man- probably in his late twenties- picking his ringing phone from the pocket of his elegant beige trench coat.

A black turtleneck hugging his visibly muscular chest and arms left your mouth nearly open. That's definitely him - you thought to yourself - feeling your face already heating up, you swallowed hardly, prayed that you weren't really blushing,  took your courage and crossed the road walking towards the little coffee shop he was standing next to.

Standing directly in front of him didn't help at all. You were so overwehlmed by him. and to be frank, you didn't really know where to look. His whole presence was doing things to you, is it His charming glance? his icy grey eyes, ornamented with a set of thick blonde lashes shinig softly in the feeble sunlight? Or is it those silky soft blonde locks, joined in a nice haircut making his enchanting appearence even more perfect and complete?

"Hello, I assume you're the new renter. Very nice to meet you. I'm zeke yeager ."

"Likewise, pleased to meet you mr yeager. I'm y/n ".

You tried your best to keep calm and professional by greeting him. But the trembling handshake you gave him was showing the complete opposite.

"Shall we go see the appartment ? This way please."

Were you too infatuated by such grace? Or is he really such a sweet, soft and courteous gentleman? You couldn't really tell.

You took a quick glance at his gorgeous profile side. And you completely wished you could take a screenshot with your eyes. His prominent cheekbones added to his manly features. And his fine silver glasses gave him that elegant intellectual aura.

The silence was broken by a deep, gentle :" so.. you're both students.. right?"

" yes. good thing the house is around 10 minutes from the university. That should save us plenty of time ."

" glad to hear that, I actually studied there for more than 6 years, that was before I finally graduated and decided to move to (city name) ."

" I see. May I ask.. why did you move? " you demanded.

" haha don't worry. It hasn't to do with the apartment. It's just that.. You can say I'm an adventurous man." He answered with a bright smile.

" right. I guess it's always tempting to move and see something new..."

You never thought a conversation with a total stranger could be this smooth, warm and relaxing. It unexpectedly didn't feel like a forced out, awkward smalltalk at all. But more like a nice and slow getting to know each other.

"We're finally here." He opened the building's door, Letting you inside and pressed the elevator button.

" I see you like the place already.." He affirmed, a soft smile graced his features, leaving you bewitched.

"Y-yes .. it's pretty welcoming." You added.

Getting out of the elevator, the cute owner took the apartement keys out, opening the door and letting you in.

After checking all the house's functionalities and facilities and discussing the period of your rent. You were ready to pay the first month of the stay until you got surprised by the deposit price. You were so shocked that you had to pay around two thousand five hundrend dollars along with the actual rent.

" I'm not sure we can actually afford that.. " I said, feeling somehow disappointed and lost.

" I know, a lot of people complain about the deposit price. I wish I could make an exeption but the price is fixed by the building's owner. He has the majority of control over that."

" and.. I guess it can't be payed in installments. can it ?"

" i'm afraid not." He retorted, quite concerned by your defeated aura.

" that's really infortunate. I was looking forward to settle here. But anyway, it was good getting to know you mr Yeager."

Hiding your frustration, you were ready to leave when his calm, reassuring voice stopped you . " maybe , we can help each other out after all..."

You turned back, looking for a further explanation when he carried on :" I can get to pay the deposit for you. And you'll have to give me a service in return.."

"okay.. and the service is ...? " you asked, being both curious and excited.

The blonde walked to the door and locked it, his silver eyes never leaving yours.

"Mr yeager..."

" Oh can we stop with the formalities now little one. If we finally agree to make a deal we should get more familiar to each other. Shouldn't we ?" He let out in a deep virile voice, causing your heart to throb numerous times.

Walking closer towards you, he stood and leaned over, whispering in your ear : " If I said I'm feeling sad and lonely today, Would you agree to entertain me ?"

He was so close you could barely register his request. Close enough to notice his irises fixed on yours, staring at your soul and then travelling a little downwards, presumably staring at your lips. You were ready to explode when his big hand landed on your chin, long slender fingers carressing it and driving you so crazy you started babbling some nearly inaudible nonsense.

" i mean.. I.I could ... I don't know.. I-"

" shh, no need to get confused, I'm here with you". a calloused thumb landed on your lips, caressing them with a gentle yet insisting motion.

Your mind shut down, leaving you comptelely blank. God, you got lost in his eyes again. You kept staring like an idiot, letting his thumb make its way through your lips and next thing you knew you were feeling his finger on your sensitive tongue. You never did this before. But why did it feel so natural with him ? Why didn't you resist at all ? How did you agree to this ?  Questions kept bringing on other questions inside your crushed mind. The betraying heat kept rising to your cheeks by the minute, and you couldn't control your intense breathing anymore.

You felt like a fragile leaf caught in a storm. Your consciousness stopped reacting when his face started closing up to yours.

" I believe we got ourselves a deal then? "

" i.. I mean-"

The blonde's delicious lips crushed on yours in a swift motion, his huge hands left to pull you closer pushing you against his large warm chest and making you feel so small and helpless.

It didn't take long for you to feel his soft warm tongue playing with yours. His refreshing minty breath was mixed with a faint hint of cigarette. You couldn't help but enlace your arms around his neck, trying to regain some balance. The sloppy wet kiss  you shared ended with your mouths parting in a wet noise, a glistening string of saliva connecting his dark red tongue to yours, Leaving you breathless.

"You're rather shy and blushy princess... I like it." Zeke leaned close to your sensitive neck, started peppering kisses from your cheeks down your neck and all around your clavicle . His warm breath on your exposed chest made you shiver, feeling your wetness already pooling between your legs. You started rubbing your thighs toghether in a search for some relief. The sudden thought of the rent crossed your mind again.

" Zeke .."

" yes sweetheart, say my name "

" what about the rent ... what should I do now ?"

"little pumpkin is still afraid." You trembled when he leaned over to lick your earlobe before carrying " consider this house yours, princess " .

You couldn't hide your relief after hearing his words. You looked back at him, the perfect pale skin of his cheeks turned into a lovely shade of pink. His cute ears were so red you thought they were about to blow off. His glasses were threatening to fall off the cute tip of his sharp nose. And you felt so proud seeing the mess you left at his golden strands. Some of them falling sexily on his eyes.

" I need this off" he tugged at your shirt , raising your arms gently and sliding it up your shivering body. It was so embarrassing you instantly hid your face. Letting out some insatisfied whines.

"gorgeous" he lets out, eyes contemplating your breasts, still hidden behind your bra. Still closing your eyes, you felt yourself being lifted in a bridal style. Zeke's strong arms placed you on the comfy couch of the living room. He stood up and took of his coat, throwing it away. His black pullover was next, revealing his toned chest, shredded abs and prominent V line . You wished you could keep this addictive view in yout mind forever. His godly body hovered around you like a shield. You leaned back , staring at the enchanting male before you, unbuckling his belt.

You were probabely too distracted by his beauty to notice the huge tent that was forming in his pants. His hand reached beneath his boxers, freeing his massive cock from it's confinements.

" like what you see ?" He winked at you, leaving you speaking gibberish again.

" zeke...it- it's not gonna .."

He cut you out, taking off your jeans in a quick move, leaving you in your black laced panties. " already soaked aren't we? What kind of a slut gets her pussy that wet just from a damn kiss?"

He rubbed his fingers against your clothed cunt before swiping your panties to the side. your clit was swollen and flushed, desperate for attention. The handsome male leaned until he faced your pussy. He spread your legs even wider, adding to your growing embarassment.

" goshh, look at how much slick is between your pussy lips,..filthy.." he slid his fingers between them.

Never leaving your innocent eyes, he puckered his lips, opened his mouth and spat on your naked pussy. You nearly passed out when he started french kissing it. Looking at it with such hunger and lust, he slid his longue tongue in your fluttering hole, driving his index and middle fingers in the process. His thick and now wet beard felt so good stinging your plush thighs.

" zeke ahhh, wait... omg zeke it feels.. Ahhhh " your moans started getting louder and louder. 

"Whine for me baby.."

His experienced fingers massaged your spongey insides, hitting spots you never knew your pussy had. You were drooling like a dumb baby, eyes rolling to the back of your head and breath hitching in your breast.

"Zeeeeke.. uh- i'm ahh i'm gonna cum, it feels so good... so good i'm cumming .."

"Yes baby, cream on my fucking tongue."

It wasn't long until you released all over his hand, his tongue was painted with cum. He shamelessly swallowed it, licking his fingers passionately as if he was tasting an elixir. He leaned to kiss you again, cum and drool still running down his messy beard. Its cute hairs tickling your cheeks and chin made you chuckle.

He took your dripping panties away, threw them somewhere across the room and slid his hands below your back, unclasping your bra.

" I need to take it off, but I really do like the cute ribbons though..." he complimented your cute bra.

" t-thank youu.." the shyness creeped inside you again. But it was replaced with surprise when he buried his head deep between your breasts like a starving baby. growling and grunting, the vibrations sent shivers down your spine. He kept lapping at them, looking at you with burning lust, taking a nipple between his teeth and flicking the other under his fingerpads.

"Are you ready, sweet pie? Wanna take my cock for me ?"

"Y-yes"

"Yes who ?"

"Yes daddy ."

"It's daddy from now on, little one"

Feeling yourself , yu bent over for him, giving him a perfect view of your bare cunt.

" hurry daddy, I can't wait anymore..."

"As you wish, princess"

Within seconds, you felt his hands settling on your hips, his firm cock sliding slowly past your hungry hole.

" it hurtss, daddy .. it hurts..."

" shh, it's ok princess, you're too tense.. relax for daddy.."

The pain suddenly turned into a pure bliss as he bottomed down, making you moan his name like a lullaby.

"I'm going to move baby.." he said, cupping your cheek in his soft palms. 

His cock was ramming inside you so deliciously you felt your drool dribbling again, his strong silhouette leaning on you, hugging you with one arm and caressing your stomach with the other. Seeing his bulge through your tummy, you felt so full and loved by him.

" look baby, look how deep i'm inside you"

" please cum inside me daddy, I want it pumping in my stomach ."

your words sent him to the edge; hitched breath, loud growls and harsh slaps landing on your ass. It felt so good your tears started gushing along your face.

" hnnghhh wanna take ... fuck ahhh .. take daddy's seed inside you ? Tell me slut " he squeezed your face between his large fingers, earning a whine from you.

" mmhmmm ... ahhhh"

" use your words when you talk to me"

" I want your cum deep inside me, daddy"

His thrusts became hysteric, making you shake. both of you moaning loudly, not caring about anybody hearing.

"Ahhhnghhh shiiiit , fuck yeaaah" the golden daddy came in thick white strings inside you. Shoving it all up your womb. You give up, letting your orgasm wash over you in a shameless moan. All your juices mixed with his sticky huge load, starting to spill from your greedy cunt.

Unable to move anymore, you collapsed on the couch. Trembling and breathing heavily. Zeke doing the same, he went to catch his neglected coat and wrapped it around your naked body, along with his strong arms around you, nuzzling his head in your neck.

" I guess having an expensive rent has its perks after all". He teased, laying a soft gentle kiss on your forehead.

" yup, you get to have a daddy for free". You whispered.

Note : I would really appreciate the feedback on my work so feel free to comment down.

[moonlitceleste]

marinette dupain-cheng’s guide to picking up cute guys

A/N: Chez Vous is real in the DC universe; it’s described as a restaurant but I decided to use it as the name of the café because I didn’t want to come up with one myself. It translates to “at your house,” which basically implies “make yourself at home.”

thanks to @ramos123 for being my beta reader! <3

ao3

“Bet.”

Marinette slapped a crisp 20-dollar bill onto the wooden table with enough force to slosh around the brown liquid in the cup sitting before Alya’s smirking face.

Chez Vous was the name of the café they had been sitting in for the past fifteen minutes. The place had a nice ambience, the quiet chatter of customers and aromatic smells combining to make what was an unusually cozy atmosphere considering the location.

Gotham wasn’t exactly known for being hospitable, but she supposed the fact that it was clearly fashioned after Parisian cafés contributed to the homey feel. It vaguely reminded her of her parents’ bakery as well, so it certainly lived up to its name.

Perhaps it was this sense of familiarity that had her and Alya reminiscing on how far they’d come. It hadn’t been that long since lycée or université—the two were only 22 and 23, respectively—but recalling the good times they’d shared was always fun to do.

Of course, their friendship had momentary blips (ahem, Lila), but the two had managed to sort out their problems eventually. Now that Alya had become more attuned to Marinette’s boundaries and there were no pressing superhero secrets to keep, they knew how to both ground and challenge each other in positive ways. Which was exactly what had caused Marinette to get herself into this situation.

While chattering about their lycée days, Alya poked fun at her once again for what had transpired on the day of the Animan akuma. How could she ever forget that while secretly masquerading as a superhero and locking her best friends in an empty gorilla habitat together, she had somehow helped them end up in a relationship? And now the two were engaged.

This topic somehow lead to Adrien and the stupid puns he spewed both in superhero and civilian form. Alya was insistent that Marinette was charmed by them at some point, to which she replied, No way! They were horrible. Even I could do better.

It was with twinkling eyes that her best friend asked “Bet?” and well, Marinette was never one to back down from a challenge. So after pulling out some spare cash from her purse and setting it down in front of Alya, she raised a brow.

A wicked smirk grew on her best friend’s face, and any lesser person would have faltered, but Marinette was prepared for anything that could possibly be thrown at her.

“Fine. If you’re so confident, I dare you to use a pick-up line on… him.”

As if on cue, the bell at the top of the glass-paneled wooden door jingled, and Marinette followed Alya’s pointed finger right on time to see a very attractive man walk through.

He had a confident stride, but not an arrogant one—his aura was one of someone who was assured and knew exactly what they were capable of.

Despite his seemingly laid-back disposition, she didn’t fail to notice how his eyes darted around the room cautiously, the same habit she had gotten used to doing after she had been given the Ladybug Miraculous. Then again, this was Gotham, so being on constant guard was only natural.

One thumb was hooked in the pocket of his jeans while the other moved up to ruffle his hair, and wow did he have nice hair.

It was perfectly coiffed, and if she didn’t have experience with hairstyling due to her career she would’ve thought it was as effortless as it looked. Most models would kill for the natural luster his locks seemed to have, and even from a distance she could tell that anyone who decided to run their fingers through his hair would be met with softness.

And she didn’t even want to get started on his face. From his glowing skin to his strong jaw and pretty eyes, she refused to believe someone so attractive could be real. It was unfair, really.

“...inette? Marinette? You good there, girl?”

A snap in front of her face broke Marinette out of her stupor, and she offered an instinctual yelp in response.

“What?”

Alya’s eyes twinkled knowingly, and Marinette shifted anxiously in her seat.

“You sure you weren’t checking him out?”

“Alya!”

Said girl let out a mischievous cackle at her hissed response.

“Now get over there!” she said, waving her hands around in a shooing motion.

Marinette glanced over to the line, where the man was no doubt giving the barista his order.

From what she could tell he was just about done, and she watched as he shuffled through his wallet to hand the barista a bill. But rather than proceed normally as most client-worker interactions would, his payment was met with wide eyes and flailing hands.

Marinette was much too far to discern what was being said, but from context clues she could deduct that he had just handed the barista quite a sizable amount. She had already guessed he was well-off from simply observing the quality of his clothes, but this was near confirmation.

It wasn’t as if status or wealth mattered much to her, but she did have a tendency to be wary of higher-class people due to past experiences with them. Being around them really wasn’t as pleasant as it seemed.

Her musing was interrupted when the man suddenly moved, relocating to the waiting line. There was her chance.

Marinette pushed herself out of her seat, steeling herself and lifting her chin high. This was no biggie. All she had to do was somehow convince this gorgeous man to give her his number by making a crappy pick-up line and a pun on the spot. It wasn’t anything she hadn’t done before, but this felt different, probably because it was a total stranger she was about to attempt it on.

She felt Alya’s gaze trailing after her with each step, and Marinette reminded herself that she absolutely had to succeed or she would never hear the end of it.

The closer she got, however, the more her confidence died. Apparently she had made a major miscalculation while gauging her probability of success, because she hadn’t accounted for the brain spasm she was currently having. Why, oh why did he have to be so cute?

Marinette had the sinking feeling that she was about to majorly embarrass herself, but she was determined to win. Screw embarrassment—she was Marinette Dupain-Cheng. All the trouble she had gotten into with Alix and Kim as kids had prepared her for this very moment. Nothing mattered besides victory.

So she sauntered up confidently, stopping right in front of her target.

“Hey, you must be Batman’s sidekick.”

“What?”

The man’s head snapped towards her, and Marinette didn’t fail to notice the subtle defensive stance he took. Years of hero experience had made her more perceptive towards these things—it was part of the job, after all. She filed the information away in the back of her mind, making a mental note to dissect all that later. Her priority was winning the bet—and oh, right, she still had to finish that pick-up line.

“...because you’re Robin my heart.”

The quip was accompanied by an uncharacteristically roguish smile, à la Chat Noir. She’d give herself a solid 10/10 points on delivery.

Her target seemed to agree with the verdict, because after a split second of shocked silence, he burst into full-bodied laughter.

The instantaneous shift in demeanor nearly caught her off-guard, but she was too occupied by the bright smile on his face and his melodic chuckle to notice. It was light and carefree, and she couldn’t help but crack a small smile as a result.

The only problem was that the laughter didn’t end, though, and she felt her face heat up more as the seconds ticked by.

Oh, Kwami.

Marinette buried her face into her hands with a soft groan, wishing the ground could just open up and swallow her whole.

She knew it wasn’t the greatest pick-up line ever, but she didn’t think her attempt warranted that much amusement.

The laugher ceased abruptly, and she peeked through her fingers in time to see the man quickly sober up.

“Sorry, I wasn’t laughing at you!”

A pause.

“Okay, not exactly. I just—wow, that was a great pick-up line.”

She slowly lowered her hands, though she kept her head down to peer at him through her lashes.

“Did it work?”

He chuckled and offered her a bright smile that made her blush like a high schooler with a massive crush.

“Yeah, you can tell your friend over there that you won your bet.”

If it was even possible, she turned redder.

“What? How…”

At the mention of Alya, Marinette sent a quick glance to their café table only to find that she was doing absolutely nothing to hide her rapt attention. She quickly caught on to the fact that they were looking her way and sent a very obvious thumbs-up and wink.

Oh, I am so going to kill her later!

But Marinette’s momentary vexation made way for embarrassment as the gravity of the situation hit her.

“I guess I wasn’t exactly subtle, huh?”

“Yeah,” the handsome stranger shrugged. “You probably could have been more discreet. But I liked it.”

“Okay, that’s the second time you’ve said that, but I have a hard time believing you. You can’t possibly tell me that you actually enjoy puns.”

“So I’m guessing I shouldn’t tell you that meeting you was a fortuitous aster?”

“Aster? As in the opposite of disaster?” she wrinkled her nose.

“You got it!”

Marinette rolled her eyes in exasperation, though the upwards tug at the corner of her lips betrayed her true feelings.

“Careful there, or you’ll be the one Robin my heart.”

She’d never admit to it, but she flushed a tiny bit before straightening up in realization. Hey, she was supposed to be the one doing the wooing here!

But before she could open her mouth to respond, her companion beat her to it.

“Since you’re stealing something so dear to me, I think it’s only fair that I get my thief’s name in exchange.”

He was clever, she had to admit.

“Marinette,” she proffered.

“Dick.”

She blinked in surprise at the seemingly random obscenity before it clicked.

“Oh, that’s your name!”

The words tumbled forward, and once she realized what she had said, Marinette tried to frantically backpedal. Her spilled apologies didn’t seem to be necessary, though, because that mesmerizing laugh came back.

“No, it’s fine, I get that a lot,” he breathed between chuckles.

She brightened immediately, glad she hadn’t offended him or embarrassed herself too much.

“Well, since I’m already taking something from you, may I steal your number as well?”

“Only if I can do the same.”

Her inquiry was met with a grin, and the two exchanged phones to type in their respective numbers. Marinette’s found its way back into her hand shortly after, and moments after she pocketed it the call of “medium espresso and beignets!” broke the quiet ambience.

“Well, that’s my order,” Dick said, words weighted by a silent apology. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I have a few things I need to take care of. Maybe we can meet up later this week?”

The end of his sentence lilted up in hope, and Marinette found her chest warming with affection.

“I’d like that.”

She bid him goodbye with a smile and a wave and quickly tacked on an “I’ll text you later!” in afterthought.

She’d forever deny squealing giddily as she unceremoniously dragged Alya out from her seat and through the café doors, but the sound didn’t escape Dick’s attention—or his enhanced hearing, courtesy of Bat-Tech.

As he watched her leave with Alya, a smile slowly spread across his face at the thought of seeing her again.

Yeah, he sighed to himself. She’s definitely Robin my heart.

-

PERMANENT TAGLIST *@astoriaandromeda @avengerthewarrior *@bluesimani @enternalempires @flower-girll @freesportspalacesalad @glastwime859 @h1sss @heart-charming @iloontjeboontje @jayjayspixiepop @jalaluvsu @kitsunebell @maskedpainter @moongoddesskiana @nathleigh @no-username2544 @too0bsessedformyowngood @ultimatetornshipper

[jujutsubabe]

Sleepover w Itadori

Itadori invited you to sleepover, but it’s awkward and you two just. Cannot cuddle cause it’s so awkward.

Word count: 1.3k

A/n: I couldn’t go to bed until I wrote this, so it’s not proof read🙄 I’m having Itadori brain rot. I will see you all in the afternoon, gooday.

“Are you comfortable?”

“Yeah,” there was a shuffle, you wiggling around until the blanket covered just over your feet and wrapped around your arms. “It’s warm.”

“Do you want me to turn on the air?” He sat up, one leg out the bed and with every intention to hop out at your word.

He looked so worried, he was fidgeting under the covers and wouldn’t wrap an arm around you. It was like laying next to a shaking chiwawa.

You pushed him back into his pillow, kissing his shoulder. “I’m fine, relax.” You smoothed his hair out his face, trying to erase the crease between his brows.

He glanced over at you, still not giving into your touch, almost restraining himself from relaxing all the way. He turned his head back to the ceiling with a shaky sigh.

“Okay.” He tried to loosen his body with a breath, but it seemed as though he was only getting stiffer with each one.

His hands, arms, and legs were nowhere on you. He barely glanced at you the whole time you got into the bed. Respectable? Yes. You appreciated the gesture.

But was this how you wanted to spend your first night with your boyfriend...? Not really.

You were surprised he didn’t hop on you and slobber you down with kisses, or pull you into a deep suffocating hug the second you laid down.

Your expectations sat in the back of the room, awkwardly seeing its way out. It didn’t look like he would be cuddling, much less looking at you anytime soon.

A quiet silence passed by, but it felt so awkward. The both of you on the verge to say something.

“Are you comfortable?” You asked this time.

“Y-yeah.” He gulped down, and if you didn’t know any better you were sure sweat was pouring off of him.

He was a horrible liar. You quirked a brow, giving him a once over that he noticed at the corner of his eye.

“Are you sure? You look...” you gestured to his demeanor, “A little stiff.”

He coughed out a laugh, “No no I’m fine! This is fine.”

He turned his body away from you, his back now facing you, “Goodnight!”

He practically curled away from you, and you didn’t feel such a large yearning towards your boyfriend until now. He was right there, but he only flinched away from your touch, giving you a nervous smile every time, how could someone be so close and so far at the same time?

You knew he was nervous about messing up your first sleepover together, but this felt excessive. He didn’t need to hold himself back from you this hard, it looked like it pained him to not surrender to his wants.

It hurt you too, it made you feel weird having him reject everything you initiated. Was it something more than this first sleepover? Did he feel uncomfortable around you or something?

You shook your head before you could ponder on any longer, if you continued to think you would definitely start getting insecure.

You tapped his shoulder and he nearly jumped out of his spot to turn to you, his eyes wide open, making you think he wasn’t even trying on sleeping.

“Is everything okay?” He sounded breathless, like he ran a marathon, “Did you need some water?”

You smiled down at him, extra careful with the tone of your voice. “Yuuji, I’m fine. I just wanted you to face me.” Your hand grazed under his chin until his face was next to yours.

“I’ve been wanting to see you all night my love.” You kissed his nose and his face lit up.

If his heart were to burst into a million pieces at any moment it would be now. Sirens played and his mind played images of exploding fireworks over and over, he internally screamed at Sukuna to keep quiet as he laughed at the poor boy.

Itadori’s heart was in your hands, you were always so careful with him, always so patient, even when he freaked out over the smallest things you would be there for him.

This whole night you didn’t get mad at him once for being so nervous. He had a hundred apologies welled up in his chest for even thinking about facing the other direction, he didn’t mean to make you feel awkward with him, this was literally so embarrassing, Sukuna was going to make fun of him forever.

Who does that, when someone you love is laying next to you in the bed, who turns around to face the wall?

The longer he stared into your worried eyes, felt your hands graze over his cheek, the more guilty he felt. He didn’t mean to move away whenever you touched him, he just couldn’t handle the way it made him feel.

His heart was all bouncy and his throat just about closed up whenever you touched him. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable at all, he wanted to restrain himself from doing something dumb, but he didn’t know you were waiting to see his face all night.

“Sorry.” He mumbled, relaxing his hand on top of yours. His thumb running along the back of your hand as you squished his cheek.“I lied. I mean, I am kind of nervous.”

“I could tell.” You scooted closer and he could feel sweat raining down his hands. How were you so calm about this? “What has you so nervous?”

Maybe the fact that you were in his bed.

Or maybe the fact that you were in his bed and holding his face.

Or maybe the fact that you were in his bed, holding his face, mixing his scent onto your clothes, while looking really comfortable in his blanket, while also keeping calm with the very close proximity of your faces to each other.

“You. Or um, making you uncomfortable? I want you to feel safe around me. I don’t want you to feel like you need to hold me or kiss me or something.”

He blushed by the end of that sentence, his skin hot and nearly about to melt off as he looked at your eyes for some kind of reaction. Being open was such an awkward feeling.

“Oh, well I feel safe around you.” You pulled yourself into his chest, arms wrapped around him “I just want to be close to you.”

He nearly fainted. His mouth propped open as you snuggled yourself into his chest, his heart beat so loudly he just knew you could hear it. It felt like his body was out to betray him, his mouth decided to go dry and his hands wanted to be clammy.

You were giving him so many butterflies, he couldn’t help the excitement that ran through his arms. He never loved someone so much, not until he felt the way you melded perfectly into his arms.

You grinned, tightening your arms around him, and he finally relaxed under your touch. Fixing himself into your form, and squeezing onto you like a kid who just got their first stuffed animal.

He kissed the top of your head, multiple times as this feeling coursed through his whole body, with his heart pumping so fast, he couldn’t tell what the pattern even was anymore.

You felt right on him. Your arms and legs wrapped around him felt loose and secure, his hold on you only tightening whenever you did so as well.

Your legs all tangled underneath the covers, Itadori’s warm body surrounding you, and the firm grip he had on your body was just how you wanted to end the night.

You propped your head up once more to kiss his neck. “Goodnight.”

He smiled down, pulling your face up to kiss you on the lips, now giving you a proper and well timed “Goodnight” back.

[spaceskam]

woke me up from the longest dream

Summary: Alex and Michael follow up on a lead and find something powerful.

Tags: canon compliant (for the most part), visions, road trips, my deep sky still sucks agenda

ao3

"Why is it so fucking cold?" 

"Welcome to Montana," Alex said dryly.

Michael made a face and shoved his hands in his pockets. He was doing his best to be mature about Alex inviting him on this trip. It was another loose lead he found and he was irritated that he didn't find it until after he came back home. Michael had offered to help after a grueling time in self-induced misery and Alex had agreed and he had planned to use this time to show Alex how much he'd grown.

However, there was something about being alone with Alex that made him feel a little like he hadn’t. 

"Are you not cold?"

"Didn't we deduce that your species is from a really cold planet due to your body temperature and the clothing Tripp described they were wearing?" Alex asked back.

Michael was used to a vaguely snarky Alex, it was in his genetic makeup. This was a different level though. Alex was in one of the worst moods Michael had ever seen him in that didn't result in a fight, instead it was all icy silence and irritated answers. Michael wasn't sure if it was because of his breakup with Forrest or if it was something else entirely. Maybe it was the fact that Michael was here at all.

He decided to keep quiet.

"You got me," Michael said, taking slightly bigger strides to keep up with Alex.

They were in a small town that served as a hub for a few even smaller towns that surrounded it. It had one small stretch of road with all the local businesses in it, a shabby hotel, a diner, and a farmer's market being the three biggest options. There were a couple others buildings, but Michael couldn't say what they were by just looking at them from the outside.

Alex seemed to know where he was headed though and he waltzed up to a building that was only identifiable by a sign that was meant to say CORRIE'S but was missing a few letters and said CORE instead. He pushed the door open and Michael followed. The inside had the heater blasting in a way that immediately smothered him, but he managed to keep his face even. It looked like a convenience store with only three rows of shelves in the middle. A sign at the back door read GAS PUMP IN BACK. Michael thought that was bad advertising.

"Hello," an older woman at the counter greeted. She seemed to be the only one here.

"Hey," Alex said, approaching her and turning on an easy smile. Logically Michael just knew he was being charming to get what he came here for. Illogically, it felt like Alex could be nice to everyone but him.

How many times could he tell himself to grow up? 

"What can I help you two with?" she asked. 

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but this place is owned by someone who used to live in Fort Belknap?" Alex said, not even beating around the bush to charm her more. That was the only thing to convince him it wasn't just him. 

The woman stared at him, face unchanging. 

"Who's asking?" 

"Holt," Alex said, smiling and tilting his head a little bit, "Carla Holt, to be more specific."

She breathed in and closed her eyes for a moment before opening them a few moments later. 

"Their timing has always been impeccable," she said, gesturing towards a door behind her, "Come."

"Who's Carla Holt?" Michael whispered to him as they followed. Alex grabbed his arm and squeezed, nearly causing Michael to fully trip over air. 

"Just follow my lead. Stay quiet," Alex explained quietly, "I'll tell you later."

And Michael did as he said. 

"You must be the littlest Manes boy," the woman said as she led them into a little office. It was cluttered and didn't really seem like the top secret place Michael was imagining. 

"Yes, ma'am." 

"Corrie," she corrected, "I never did like the sound of ma'am."

"Alright," Alex said, laughing lightly even though didn't reach his eyes, "My mother told me the same thing." 

"I bet so," Corrie said, digging through messy drawers of a desk. She sat down heavily into the beat up chair and started digging through a file cabinet. "I kept telling myself it'll eventually come and bite me in the ass, carrying secrets for someone I only hear from once every few years, but you never know what you're getting yourself into until after you're stuck."

"Yeah, I know how that feels," Alex sighed. Michael's eyes drifted to him. He avoided eye contact completely.

"I'll be honest, I wasn't expecting you. Your brother, maybe. Part of me expected your father to bust down my door more than anyone," she went on. Corrie pulled out a small box and opened it, looking in and making a face before closing it and tossing it over her shoulder. 

"Guess I'm the sucker who agreed to clean up duty."

Corrie laughed.

Truly, Michael expected more danger and more difficulty. He expected a fight or at least tension. Instead, Alex and Corrie made small talk about their shitty affiliations while Corrie dug through decades worth of clutter. Eventually, she pulled out a box and opened it and took a deep breath. She closed it again before giving it to Alex and Alex didn't reopen it so Michael had no idea what was in it. All he knew was that it went into Alex's bag.

"Thank you "

"Keep it safe," Corrie said, "Keep yourself safe." Then for the first time her eyes drifted to Michael. "You too. There aren't many of you left."

It was hot in the building, but somehow Michael felt like he'd jumped in ice water.

"Thank you."

"Mhm. Now get the hell out of my store before somebody follows you."

"Of course. Thank you again," Alex said politely and then he did as she said, turning on his heel and walking away. Michael wanted to stay and ask more–if she knew what he was, maybe she knew things he didn't and they could get rid of Mr. Jones–but Michael simply followed Alex's lead.

"Alex," Michael said, nearly having to jog to keep up. Alex opened the door of the store and a blast of cold hit Michael in the face, colder than before due to the extreme warmth inside. It took him a moment to reboot his mind enough to finish what he was saying. "Alex, what's in the box?"

Alex managed to close his eyes and shake his head in disapproval without slowing his pace. 

"Can you wait until we get to the hotel?" Alex asked, cold again. Michael nodded despite the fact Alex couldn't see him, deciding that a verbal answer probably would be annoying in itself. 

The problem with silence was that it was a sure way to get Michael to spiral. He had discovered very recently that being alone when he wanted to be alone the most was the worst idea. Now, he didn't want to be alone as much as he wanted answers. Walking in silence down a street while wondering what was in Alex's bag, who Carla Holt was, why Alex was angry, etc, etc, etc, was only making his mind race.

By the time they stepped into the lobby of the hotel, Michael was sure that Alex had just borrowed a bomb from an old lady and he was going to explode himself and whoever Carla Holt was was going to hunt Michael down in revenge. He of course didn't say that. Instead, he tapped his foot as Alex requested a room with two queens and didn't realized that the worker snorted because he was assuming they were two queens until after they were already heading to the room. 

"Should I go spit in his drink?" Michael asked when he realized. 

"No," Alex said, "You'd probably make it taste too sweet."

Michael again found himself stumbling over nothing and he looked at Alex, wondering what the hell was he talking about. But it was the nicest thing he'd said to him the whole trip and Michael decided to take it very personally. 

"You sayin' I'm sweet?" Michael asked, grinning. A smile pulled at Alex's mouth that he very quickly schooled, slowing as he came to their room. 

"I'm saying your saliva, and probably your other bodily fluids, have a higher concentration of a glucose-like chemical," Alex said, "As proved by Kyle and Liz when we got drunk."

"You guys drunkenly tested our saliva's glucose levels?" Michael asked, laughing a little. Alex finally speaking to him made his brain stop wandering as much. Not completely–he was still wondering about that box–but enough.

"We were talking," Alex said, unlocking the door with the keycard, "And noticed we all thought you three tasted sweeter than other people we'd kissed and, well, you know. So we did some tests."

"That's... Interesting," Michael said, letting the door close behind them.

Alex walked over to the bed closest to the door and carefully sat his bag down. Michael watched him, staying near the door. He was still unsure about where they stood. He knew Alex cared about him and he knew Alex didn't hate him, but he was also still holding him at arm's length. And then there was that box. He didn't want to push.

But Michael wasn't known for his patience. 

"Alex," Michael said, "What's in that box?"

Alex swallowed and looked up at him for a moment before patting the bed beside him. An invitation. One that made Michael's stomach drop and twist in 11 knots. But he walked closer, sitting beside Alex. Alex stared at him, his features slowly loosening up to betray his feelings. His eyebrows pulled together in that kind of worry that meant he felt like he was drowning, scrambling to pull himself to the surface and never able to get a good grip. Which would explain the coldness, he supposed.

"You know you can trust me, right? I'm... I'm working on not being so self-destructive, and, like, knowing I'm helping you out kinda helps when I feel shitty," Michael said. Alex huffed a small laugh and shook his head, dropping his chin to his chest for a moment. When he looked Michael in the eye again, he was back to being serious. 

"I did something stupid," Alex said, softly like it was a secret, "I agreed to something without knowing what I was getting myself into. And I'm kind of stuck right now."

"Stuck? What do you mean stuck?" Michael said, following his lead and whispering.

"I'm figuring it out, alright? Don't worry. I'll tell you later," Alex said, reaching out to squeeze his arm before dropping it back to the bed, "And I checked before we even left that I wasn't bugged and I've kept my eye out to know that we aren't being followed. And my computer definitely isn't. We're good. They're tracking me, but only to the extent I'm letting them. It's okay." 

"That doesn't sound okay," Michael said.

"Trust me like I trust you, alright?" He said. Michael reluctantly nodded. "I need you to hold something for me."

Michael blinked. "The box."

"Yeah."

"Who's Carla Holt?" Michael asked. Alex smiled softly

"It's not a who, it's a what. It's a code from my mom's side of things. She knows more about the alien shit than she let on," Alex sighed, "I didn't stand a fucking chance not being involved with this shit. My dad, my mom, you. So, you know, if you ever feel bad about that, it's my fucking destiny." 

Michael swallowed and nodded, feeling more eager by the second to know what was in that box. Needed to keep hearing Alex say how fated they were to know each other. Needed Alex to touch his arm again and smile.

"Okay," Michael said, trying to stay in his own space, "So we're fated. Cosmic connection. Called it."

Alex broke into a wide smile, genuine and welcoming as he shoved Michael's shoulder gently. "Shut up."

"Show me," Michael said instead. Alex's smile faded just a little.

"Do me a favor and double check our surroundings," Alex said. Michael nodded and tilted his head, sending a chair to lodge itself under the doorknob and pressed the curtains tightly to the wall. His eyes slid closed as he did a mental sweep of the building, not noticing anything out of order. When he opened his eyes again, Alex seemed to be closer. "Thanks." 

"Show me." 

Alex sighed and nodded, hesitantly reaching into his bag and pulling out the box. It was clear now that it was made of really nice wood, intricate carvings covering it. Alex handled it with an extreme care that Corrie didn't have with it. His eyes flickered between the box and Michael a few dozen times before he hesitantly opened it and Michael leaned closer to see.

"It's just a ring," Michael said, almost disappointed. It looked like a normal, silver band that was old and unpolished after years of being tucked away. 

"Not just a ring," Alex said, he kept his fingers very precise as he picked it up. Michael didn't miss the way it seemed to ripple at his touch.

"Something alien," Michael acknowledged.

"Something alien," Alex confirmed, "Most of the glass and even the rocks that you've had so far all seem to be crafted and at least heavily altered by your people to be as useful as they are. This... This was passed down as a pure substance that was mined and cut into a wedding band to mimic human customs." Alex looked at him. "It pre-dates your mother landing here, Michael."

Michael let out a shaky breath, eager and hungry for knowledge for the first time in a long time. He'd poured over Tripp's journal over and over, poured over Caulfield and Project Shepard records, all of it painful and sickening with an unhappy ending. And now there was something new– old –that might actually give him something more. Proof that aliens were here before his mother, proof that there was a reason they came to Earth of all places. More secrets he craved to uncover. He missed the feeling. 

"It's powerful and, as far as I can tell, the last of it left. The rest was probably destroyed with your planet. But it's old and... and sentimental. One of the older women on the reservation told me the sentimentality powered it more. Because it's not just a ring that symbolizes love or a bond between two people, but it's a new start. Blending the past they chose to leave behind together with something new and different. Safer and secure. Together," Alex said. Michael swallowed, eyes unable to break away from Alex's. Alex cleared his throat and looked back down at it. "That's what she said anyway. There was probably two at one point, but I'm sure the other is lost to time."

"Yeah, okay. Okay," Michael said, agreeing without hesitation, "I'll take care of it and keep it safe."

He went to grab it, but Alex pulled it out of his reach.

"Michael," he said, "When I say it's powerful, I mean the moment you put it on, something's going to… happen."

Michael hadn't really intended to put it on, but it seemed Alex knew him well enough to know that eventually he would. 

"What kind of something?" 

"I don't know, Michael. I just know legend says it has unspeakable levels of power. So, please, be careful with it. I'd prefer you do it with someone around in case it overloads you or something," Alex said. Michael didn't point out what Isobel had before–he was the only one who didn't have a limit.

"Why not just put it on right now?" Michael said, "We're in the clear and you're here. Why not?" 

Alex breathed in and out, staring at him with that same worried, downing look. Michael selfishly enjoyed it for a few moments–enjoying that he cared that much. So he smirked and held out his left hand, feeling confident.

"Go ahead, Alex. Put a ring on it," he said. A smile pulled at Alex's lips that he fought, but he relaxed his shoulders and grabbed Michael's hand with his empty one.

Alex's hand was warm. Michael was sort of obsessed with the feeling of it. Why hadn't they been holding hands this entire time? 

"I'm right here, okay? So if you need me to take it off or if you feel like you're going to lose control, let me know. Try not to throw me," Alex said. Michael rolled his eyes.

"I don't give a shit how much power I have injected into me, I'm not going to hurt you," Michael said. Alex raised an eyebrow. "Physically. Come on now, cut me some slack."

"Maybe," Alex said, putting the ring closer. Michael could feel it now that it was millimeters away from his skin, the power of it overwhelming. And Michael was intrigued. "Ready?"

"Always."

Alex slid the ring onto his ring finger.

The wave of power hit him instantly and, before he could adjust, sent him into a mindscape. Or–he thought it was. The room was damp and dark, unwelcoming. Michael looked around for something, someone, but he was alone. It was crowded with things, though, inventions and technological structures. It looked like his own lair but significantly less familiar, less comforting. 

“Michael?”

Michael turned towards the voice and saw Alex at the top of a ladder, staring down at him with a face that said he was doing everything to stay calm. He had red stains on his clothes. Michael stared at him, unsure what to do. Alex was down the ladder and centimeters away from him so quickly that it could only be achieved by him seeing something that wasn’t happening just yet.

“Are you okay?” Alex asked, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Michael said, instinctually, “Where are we? What is this place?”

Alex looked around the room, his face betraying his pain before he met Michael’s eyes again. Then his hand was on Michael’s cheek with a warm and grounding presence. Michael’s heart was about to burst out of his chest.

“My research,” he sighed, “Half of it’s destroyed anyway. Let’s go.” Michael didn’t really think that sounded right. This didn’t feel like Alex’s space. He’d been in enough of Alex’s spaces before to know what they felt like. This wasn’t it.

“Your research?” he said. Alex gave him a look and stroked his thumb over his cheekbone.

“I’ll tell you later.”

“Stop that,” Michael said, his voice sounding more irritated than he meant. He could feel the anger in his body, but he didn’t know the source. “Stop not telling me things. You keep doing that. You need to tell me.”

“You’re right,” Alex agreed, swallowing, “But we need to get out of here. I swear I’ll tell you once we get in the car. But we need to get out of here.”

“You promise you’ll tell me in the car?” Michael said. Alex nodded.

“I promise.”

They were upstairs just as fast as Alex had been downstairs. Michael saw blood. He turned his head to find the source, but Alex’s hand was back on his neck to stop him.

“Don’t look. Let’s just go to the car.”

“What, you tryna baby me?” Michael asked, “You know I’ve seen some shit.”

“Yeah, I know,” Alex said, still leading him towards the door as his thumb dug slightly into the muscle on his neck, “Doesn’t mean I have to show you more.”

Michael sucked in a breath and he was thrown back into his body, the power from the ring still thrumming through him and teasing a possible second surge. It was old and unused and desperate to stretch out some of it's pent up energy.

Alex was there, staring at him and holding onto him. He was so close, so real, and so was that memory that was just in the opposite direction. Michael stared at him, taking him in.

"What happened?" Alex asked, hands squeezing his biceps. His hand started to slide up, but stopped at his shoulder. "Hey, you with me?" 

"Yeah," Michael said, "I'm okay."

"What happened?"

"I think, uh," Michael breathed, swallowing. His throat felt dry again. The heat of the hotel seemed to work with the heat inside him; he was on fire in the best way. "I got, like, That's So Raven'd."

Alex blinked a couple times, his thumb moving in slow circles against his collarbone not too far from where it’d been moments ago in his vision. Michael wanted to let his eyes roll back into his head and just sink into the bed with Alex beside him and let this undeniable strength course through him.

"You saw the future?" he said, "Like one of Maria's visions?" 

"I think so," Michael confirmed, "Only… mine wasn't of something bad. I mean, not really, anyway."

"What was it?" Alex asked. 

Michael licked his lips, studying Alex for a moment. The ring on his finger fit perfectly as if it was made for him. The power it gave settled nicely in him, pulsing and eager to be used just a little bit more, but in a childish, playful way. It wanted to stretch after too many years being cooped up.

"Hey, I'm going to try to see something else," Michael said. Alex's eyes went wide as saucers.

"What? Tell me what you saw the first time," Alex pressed, his hand shifting just enough to cup the side of his neck. Michael layered his hand over his, feeling bold and unperturbed. At some point, they were going to get there. He was sure of that more now than ever. 

And he wanted to see more.

" Michael ," Alex said, but Michael closed his eyes and breathed in, letting the power in the ring take him somewhere else.

And he was somewhere else. 

He was standing at the end of a driveway. He looked around and tried to grab some sort of identifier, but all he saw was a house behind him and then a school bus headed towards him. It stopped in front of him, a kid stepping off and running towards him with a backpack almost as big as she was. 

"Daddy!" the kid yelled and Michael tried his damnedest to act like he was meant to be here as the little body slammed against his legs for a welcoming hug. "Is Dad home yet? Can you tell him to get ice cream? I think we need ice cream."

"Oh, you think we need it?" Michael asked, walking with the kid towards the house. It felt natural, oddly enough. 

"Yes," the kid said simply, running towards the door. She threw it open and Michael laughed and jogged the rest of the way. He could hear her already telling a story about school and he was trying to stay close enough to follow.

He walked into a foyer, pictures lining the wall. Family portraits.

Him and Alex. The three of them.

When Michael came back to his senses, Alex was right there again and staring at him without faltering. The ring was still alive, but it was at a sated hum now that it had been used a few times. He wondered how it would feel doing something he understood. He couldn’t wait to try.

“Hey,” Alex said, soft and comforting as he welcomed his weight. The vision he had was definitely not what he was looking for, he wanted to know more about Alex’s research and why it all felt so wrong and where the hell they were, but the second one… 

“Hi,” Michael said, breathing and his eyes drifting down to his lips. Michael had experienced a lot of urges to kiss Alex before. Somehow this felt more dire.

“Please don’t do that again,” Alex said, “Maybe we should take it off.”

Michael shook his head carefully, eyes scanning him, “No, it feels fine now. It just needed to be used after being in a little box for decades. It’s good. Feels good.”

“Okay,” Alex said, still clearly hesitant. His fingers played with the hair at the back of Michael’s neck. There were two beds, but Michael was trying to figure out how to convince him to share one. They could fit. They’d shared smaller. “What’d you see?”

Michael breathed deep, wanting to get closer. He kept his hands to himself no matter how much he wanted to touch. He was being good. To get to where those visions said he was headed, he had to be good. Good for himself and Alex.

“Tell me what’s going on,” Michael said softly, “What are you researching? Who are you working with?”

Alex blinked once, twice before dropping his hand off of Michael. Which definitely hurt, but the fact that Alex didn’t move away definitely helped. 

“What did you see?” Alex asked again, more pressing, “I know you saw that I’m researching something.”

Michael shrugged. He technically did, but he didn’t see anything identifiable. He didn’t know what it was. He would like to. Then again, he’d always wanted to know everything about Alex Manes.

“I didn’t see what,” Michael said, “I just saw that someone’s going to fuck with it. I think. I don’t know, we were in this basement looking thing and it felt really off and, and not like you, but you said your stuff was in it. And you had blood on you and when we went upstairs, there was more blood. But you said not to look. I don’t know what you did or what happened, but, like, if you told me, maybe we can prevent it getting that extreme.”

Alex stared at him for a long moment. 

“You saw that both times?” Alex asked softly. Michael hesitated before shaking his head. “What else did you see, then?”

“Um,” Michael breathed, trying to think of the right words to say, “Uh. I don’t think, um…”

“ Michael.”

“Family portraits,” he said carefully, figuring that was easier to start with than a whole person who called them dad, “Like, ours. Um. I know we don’t belong in suburbia, but I guess we fucking get it anyway.”

He laughed. It wasn’t funny, but it was easier to say it like it was a joke. Alex looked at him, face confused.

“Suburbia? Like. White picket fence kinda thing?” Alex asked. Michael took a slow breath.

“I, uh, I didn’t see a fence, I was too focused on the‒” he stopped, licking his lips. Michael rubbed his thumb over the ring. It seemed to purr at the attention. Michael couldn’t wait to get back home and see what he could really do.

“On the what?” Alex prodded, reaching out to rest his hand on his leg and reigniting the contact. It felt so good. Michael really liked when he was touchy, it was his favorite thing about Alex.

“Um,” Michael breathed, feeling drunk off the attention and the ring all at once. He thought about lying, maybe that they were babysitting because that was close enough, but he was so tired of lies and half-truths and I’ll-tell-you-laters. “On the kid.”

Alex froze for a moment, “The kid?”

“Yeah,” Michael said, shrugging softly, “I, uh, I guess she was ours. She was calling us dad. Do we have any water? My throat is super dry.”

“I… I don’t think you’re seeing the future then, I’m never having kids. Do you realize how awful of a parent I would be? Awful. Neglectful. That’s not… And after I clearly fucking hurt people?”

“Maybe not,” Michael said, not about to argue right now. He was too busy feeling good. Alex kept his hand on his knee. “But whatever it was, it was good.”

Alex stared at him, quiet and clearly thinking things through. Michael let him. It was easier to give him space and time now. He’d gotten better at it before his visions, but they solidified to him that they were on a good path. It felt like they were making good choices and taking good steps. This was just a part of it.

Alex eventually took a deep breath, looked him in the eye.

“I’m gonna tell you what I’m doing, but you have to promise you’re going to stay out of it and trust me,” Alex said, “You promise?”

“I promise.”

“And you’re gonna promise to be honest with me?” Alex said, “And stay safe. Like, seriously. Don’t be reckless just because. I know you.”

I know you.

“Yeah. I’m doing better now,” Michael said, stretching his hand out, “I am. But I’m… I’m tired of not doing shit together. Doing stuff separately always gets us in shitty situations, Alex, I wanna be a team. Can I be on your team?”

Alex swallowed and moved his hand up, tucking Michael’s hair behind his ear.

“Yeah. Be on my team. Let’s be a team,” Alex said. He shifted and Michael waited patiently, watching him. “Okay, so. Deep Sky. It’s… it’s got some good people, I think, but it’s overall fucked. I don’t trust anyone in there, but it’s where I’m doing my research. Sort of. So I’ll tell you.”

It almost felt too good to be true to hear, but he didn’t need the ring to know that Alex was being honest. It showed him anyway. Truthfulness radiated off of him in vibrant blues and whites. He didn’t even need to get in his mindscape to be sure of it. It was strange to feel like that was unnecessary, like his body didn’t need confirmation because it already knew.  It didn’t feel like he was stepping off a ledge. He hoped Alex had the same confidence, wondered what would happen if he put the ring on him.

If Alex still felt like he was stepping off the ledge, he was going to be sure to catch every inch of him this time. No piece would hit the ground like all the times before.

He was going to make this work.

“Everything?” 

“Everything.”

[whelvenwings]

who will fall beside you, if you fall

Dean Winchester's been loved in a lot of different ways throughout his life. He was shaped by that love, changed by the expectations and hopes and hurts of the people he cared about. He learned fear and silence and caution. But Castiel's confession, free of expectation, might undo those lessons.

Tags: Fix-It Fic, Endgame Castiel/Dean, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Minor Lisa/Dean Snippet and Minor Cassie/Dean Snippet, John Winchester’s A+ Parenting, Fallen Angel Castiel Word Count: ~4k

“If you’re angry, you could just tell me,” Dean said. “God knows I’d get it.”

He glanced to his left and right before crossing a road, his eyes lingering on the faces nearest him, as though he were looking for someone.

“Cas, just talk to me.” The words were so quiet that no human but Dean himself heard them. He was still watching around him, waiting, but nothing happened.

He put his hands into his pockets again. Walked with his shoulders set a little lower.

“It’s not…” Dean muttered, a broken-off answer to a thought inside his head. “Just – I don’t know what you want me to do. Can you hear me thinking about you? ‘Cause it’s all the time, man. I don’t know what to do. Last time I saw you, you told me… but now you aren’t even…”

He rounded a corner and began to cross a small parking lot.

“If you’d just come here. You could tell me what I’m supposed to do. All I want is…” Dean’s eyes searched the backs of the cars he passed as if their number plates were esoteric texts with all the answers, all the things he needed to say. He breathed out. “I don’t know how, man, I don’t know what to do.”

Read the whole thing below the cut!

Dean was three years old and not quite steady on his feet, still, when his father took him outside to help shovel the snow. In his coat and hat he was a little duffled-up sweetheart, to whom nothing particularly bad had ever happened.

Red-cheeked and grinning, he left small bootprints in the snow.

“Come over here, Dean.” John stood behind Dean and lowered the shovel down to Dean’s height, so that they could hold it and move the snow together. Dean pressed his lips together and frowned as he followed his father’s movements. John’s coat smelled like smoke and the outdoors. They moved one, two, three, four, five big shovel-fulls.

“That’s enough for one day,” said a voice from the porch – Mary, smiling down at the two of them. John carefully lifted the shovel out of Dean’s reach, standing up to his full height. They’d managed to clear just a short stretch of the path that led up to the house.

“But Mom, there’s loads more!” Dean said, pointing to the rest of the pathway.

“Your dad can clear that. You need to come in and have some lunch,” Mary said. “Come on.”

Dean looked up to his father with wide eyes, but John put his hand on the top of Dean’s head and ruffled it so that his hat almost came off.

“Listen to your mom, Dean. In you go.”

Dean’s eyes travelled from his father’s face to his mother’s.

“There’s your favourite for dessert,” Mary said, coaxing him with a little smile.

“Yes!”

Dean made a sudden break for it towards her, running down the path he’d just helped to clear. After the crunch-crunch-crunch of the snow, the cleared pathway was hard under Dean's feet. Hard, and unexpectedly slippery.

“Whoa, there,” said John, as Dean felt his balance go, his feet skidding out from under him – and suddenly he was being lifted, one hand on either side of him. John pulled him up out of the fall, and set him back down in thick snow.

Dean blinked. It had all happened very fast.

“Next time,” John said, giving Dean a little push indoors, “I won’t catch you. You’ve got to learn, Dean.”

–––––

And now Dean was eleven years old and trailing after his father down a quiet midnight street, with a sleepy little brother in tow.

“Dad… are we nearly at the motel?”

“Nearly.”

He’d pay for that question later somehow, and Dean knew it, but because he’d asked there was a new purpose in John’s step. They didn’t stop at the liquor store that Dean knew John had been weighing going into. Walking past it, Dean felt a little break of relief in his chest. They’d get out of the cold sooner, and Sam could get to bed.

“Dean?”

Dean turned his head to look at his brother, keeping walking. Sam was wearing Dean’s coat, swimming in it, the hood pulled up and the elastic tight so only the round circle of his face was visible. It was nearly funny, but they hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and the humour was shaved off everything.

“Come on,” Dean said.

“I’m cold.”

“I know.” Dean cast a glance forwards at his father’s back. He lowered his voice. “It’s okay. Just a little bit longer.”

Sam made a miserable face. Their breaths were puffs of air between them. Underfoot was the hiss and crunch of melting, slushy snow.

“Can I have soup when we get there?”

“It’s late, Sammy. We’ll have something in the morning.”

“But I can’t sleep when I’m hungry…”

“Okay.” Dean cast another worried look towards his father, and then made a meaningful face at Sam when he looked back around. “I’ll find something. I think we have some of that apple juice left over.”

“That’s cold,” Sam said, but he’d quietened his voice, too. “And a drink.”

“You didn’t know?” Dean said, making sure his face was completely straight.

“Know what?”

“That’s the best part,” Dean said. “Cold drinks make you warm up faster.”

Sam narrowed his eyes, and Dean cursed internally. Every day Sam got a little smarter and a little harder to keep happy.

“That’s not true,” Sam said.

“It is,” Dean promised. “You’ll see.” He thought for a few seconds, and then said, "Maybe we can heat up the apple juice."

“Keep up, boys,” said John’s voice, from too far away. Dean realised he must have slowed down as he’d talked to Sam, even though he’d been trying to hold a steady pace. He reached for Sam’s hand, turning his head at the same time to call back to his father – and as he did so, he felt his balance betray him. His feet slipped in the slush, and in a rush he was a jumble of elbows and knees hitting the ground in all the wrong places.

For a second he sat still, assessing the damage. Nothing broken.

“Are you okay?” Sam said, the dish of his face looking pale and worried above Dean.

“I’m fine… ugh.”

“Get up,” John called, and when Dean turned his head to look, he saw that his father was turning away to keep walking. Dean scrambled to his feet, hands out for balance. His hip ached – he’d landed on it.

“I’m alright,” Dean said to Sam, pulling on a smile. “Let’s go.”

He hurried after John, making sure Sam was beside him, going as fast as he dared until they were right behind their father. His knee was starting to throb, too, and he kept it off his face carefully, because Sam was still glancing up at him.

“Saw you reach for your brother when you were falling,” John grunted. “Don’t do that. If you two’re on your own and both of you go down, you’re both dead. If Sam’s still up, he can go for help.”

“I wasn’t –” Dean tried to say.

“Don’t do it,” John repeated, more forcefully.

They walked on in silence.

––––-

And now Dean was twenty-one years old and stepping out into the brisk air of a winter evening, with his head a little light from the drinks he’d had in the bar at his back.

“Come on,” Cassie said from beside him, her eyes bright with laughter. “You can tell me.”

“Hey, we’ve been through this,” Dean said, as they began to make their way down the street, “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

“As if you could,” Cassie said.

Dean glanced over at her smile, and thought about the way the shifter he’d taken out earlier that day had looked at him, right before he’d swung the blade through her neck. He swallowed hard.

“I might,” he said, and held his arms a little out from his body. “How long can I contain this much raw aggression, you know?”

“Stop," Cassie said, nudging him with her shoulder. “Seriously, okay, just tell me what your job is.”

“Is it really worth your life?” Dean asked, putting on his most serious face.

“You’re really trying to tell me you’re, what – a spy? A fed?” Cassie asked. “C’mon, you can’t expect me to believe that. With that face?”

“Hey,” Dean said, mock-offended, as they passed closed-up stores and parking bays. “What’s wrong with my face?”

“Nothing,” Cassie said, “that’s literally the problem. The FBI don’t hire people who look like you, do they? This is real life, not HBO.”

“Okay,” Dean said, his face working not to look too pleased. Underfoot, the pavement was shiny with ice. Dean started to walk a little slower. “So, if this isn’t the face of a fed, what is it the face of?”

“Mmm. Radio show host?” Cassie laughed when Dean threw her a look. “Well, c’mon, how am I supposed to know? Third date and you still won’t tell me?”

“Just trying to keep the mystery alive,” Dean said, faking an absent kind of tone in the hope that Cassie would drop the subject. The sidewalk was getting more and more treacherous, each of his steps sliding just a little.

“The mystery is too alive,” Cassie said. “It could die a bit. I’d be okay with that.”

“Whoa… careful.” Dean’s foot slipped out from under him, and he only managed to keep his balance by grabbing onto a parking meter that happened to be close by.

“Easy, big shot.” Cassie watched him start to move again, even more tentatively. “Wouldn’t wanna lose the deal with HBO if you fall on that perfect face.”

There was an edge of hurt to her tone of voice, and Dean jaw tightened. Was he ever going to tell her, he wondered. Surely not. She’d hate it. Spending time with Cassie was like visiting a parallel universe. That world didn’t have room for monsters under the bed.

And so Dean kicked them back underneath as hard as he could, and smiled at Cassie, and held out his hand.

Cassie looked down at it, and then back up at him.

“Really?” she said, a smile waiting at the corners of her mouth.

“It’s slippery,” Dean said, and wiggled his fingers temptingly.

“Yeah,” Cassie said with a laugh, pushing his hand away, “it is, asshole. That’s why I’m not letting you take me down with you.”

––––-

And now Dean was thirty-one years old and watching a soccer game, gloves on, hat on, clapping along with the dark-haired woman next to him.

“Come on, Ben!” called Lisa.

“Like we practised, okay, kid?” Dean added, and watched Ben’s face relax into concentration as he placed the ball for his free kick, just a yard outside the penalty box.

“You practised free kicks with him?” Lisa said to Dean, sounding like she was holding back a laugh. Dean glanced down at her; she had her eyes on her son, but there was a little smile on her face.

“A couple times,” Dean said. “He asked.”

“That’s sweet. And I thought you two just watched TV and ate too much pizza together.”

“We do that too,” Dean said. “When I have a say in it.” He rubbed his hands together, trying to warm them up. On either side of Lisa and Dean, also at the edge of the soccer pitch, were other parents all waiting on Ben to take his kick. They were standing on wet grass, a few of them stamping their feet to keep them from going numb.

Ben took a short run up, swung his leg, made contact. The ball sailed high, dipped – and the goalie caught it neatly.

“Next time,” Dean called out when Ben’s face fell, and gave him a clap. The game played on.

“God, it’s cold,” Lisa said.

“You want my coat?”

Lisa looked up at him, her big brown eyes soft.

“You’re cute, you know that?”

“... Right.” Dean smiled awkwardly. Lisa’s would-be compliment hung in the air, sounding more incongruous the longer Dean stood tense and unmoving.

Lisa reached out, and put her hand on his folded arms.

“You wanna order in, tonight?” she said lightly. “Or I could make fajitas.”

“I can cook,” Dean said. “I’ll make burgers.”

“Mmm. Twist my arm.”

Some small burst of relief, there. Dean’s expression eased. He put his hands in his pockets, lifted his chin, as though remembering the role he was playing. Who he was, now.

He shifted his feet – and felt his right foot slide, almost right out from under him. He steadied himself, hands out to the sides, looking down at the grass.

“Careful,” Lisa said.

“Jesus,” Dean said at the same time.

“Come here,” Lisa said, holding out her hand.

Dean smiled.

“It’s all good,” he said, reaching out and giving the hand a squeeze, and then letting go quickly.

“Can’t have the head chef breaking his arm,” Lisa said, her hand still out.

“It’s fine, really.”

“Dean, would you hold my hand?”

“We’ll both go over,” Dean said.

“Mm-mm. I’ll hold you up.”

Her expression allowed no argument. Unwillingly, Dean allowed her to loop their arms together, Lisa pinning Dean to her side and turning back to the game, calling out to support Ben as he went for a tackle. Dean stood quietly. He was having to lean down ever so slightly so that Lisa could keep his arm tucked under hers.

He tried very hard not to move. Just the smallest slide of his feet and he’d be over and he’d take her with him. Every muscle in his legs was clenched, forcing himself not to slip.

After just a minute or so of stiff silence, Lisa sighed.

“Okay,” she said, “you win.”

She let go.

––––-

And now Dean was forty-one years old and walking down a street in Lebanon, Kansas, on legs that still felt a little new. The cold air was harsh; he took in a deep breath.

He went to cross the road, and a car gave a screech as it swerved suddenly to avoid him. The driver made a few different gestures at him through the window, and Dean held up a hand in apology.

It was easy to forget that things didn’t part and make way on Earth like they had done in Heaven.

“Couldn’t fix that for me, could you?” Dean said aloud. “Not that I’m not grateful for the ticket home, Cas, but Heaven had its perks.”

Silence. Dean kept walking, with only the slightest slump to his shoulders and crease on his brow. Lebanon was wearing snow like a big white coat. Dean’s boots crunched in it when he stepped off the gritted path to let a mother with a stroller go by.

“I should probably stop expecting to see you round every corner, huh,” he said. “Been a week now. And I keep wandering around thinking you might show up just ‘cause I’m looking.” Someone passing gave him a slightly frightened look and a wide berth as he walked by, talking to himself. Just another thing no one had much noticed in Heaven: the prayers. Dean frowned, and ducked his head. Tucked his hands in his pockets.

He walked quietly for some time.

Long enough for his hands to come back out of his pockets, and his shoulders to lose their self-conscious hunch. Long enough for the hurt in his eyes to seem nearer the surface.

“Might not even have been you that got me out of Heaven,” Dean said, his tone quiet, as though picking up the thread of a half-finished conversation.

A pause, in which he walked. Passed by other people, made no eye contact. Dean meandered a little as he went, as though his mind were elsewhere.

“If you’re angry, you could just tell me,” he said. “God knows I’d get it.”

He glanced to his left and right before crossing a road, his eyes lingering on the faces nearest him, as though he were looking for someone.

“Cas, just talk to me,” he said. The words were so quiet that no human but Dean himself heard them. He was still watching around him, waiting, but nothing happened.

He put his hands into his pockets again. Walked with his shoulders set a little lower.

“It’s not…” Dean muttered, a broken-off answer to a thought inside his head. “Just – I don’t know what you want me to do. Can you hear me thinking about you? ‘Cause it’s all the time, man. I don’t know what to do. Last time I saw you, you told me… but now you aren’t even…”

He rounded a corner and began to cross a small parking lot.

“If you’d just come here. You could tell me what I’m supposed to do. All I want is…” Dean’s eyes searched the backs of the cars he passed as if their number plates were esoteric texts with all the answers, all the things he needed to say. He breathed out. “I don’t know how, man, I don’t know what to do.”

He swallowed.

“It feels like I have to do something, though.”

He kept walking.

“Or, I don’t know. Maybe I just want to.”

He breathed out.

Emotions were crossing his face, too fast to catch one alone, too swift to parse. He looked down at his feet, watching where he stepped.

“If I had what I wanted,” he said, “you’d be here.” After a pause, he rolled his eyes. “I’m sure that’s news to you. Like, wow, right? Not as though I’ve ever asked, after all.” Another silence, and then he said, “But you know, I – it’s not that I just want to… fix it, or… finish things off. It’s not… I’m not…” He pressed his lips together, smiled wryly. “Jesus. I hope you can’t hear this. I’m not making any sense. I’m just trying to say, I want you here, man. I want you here to stay.”

A little flicker of light seemed to touch Dean’s eyes.

“You could stay now,” he said, “right? You could actually stay. If you wanted to. And we could…” He stopped. “Yeah,” he said quietly.

A car drove by, and the child in the backseat stared out the window at him. Dean blinked back to reality.

“We didn’t have time to think about what we wanted,” he said into the quiet of the parking lot, when the car had passed and he was walking again. “All this time. Or maybe you did. But I didn’t.” He looked upwards, towards the iron sky. “And now there’s time, Cas, and all I’m thinking about is you.” He looked down. “I said that already.”

He moved on, stepping out the other side of the parking lot and onto the sidewalk.

“I remember you said that the… the thing you want, you can’t have.” Dean took in a breath and let it go. “I don’t know why you thought you couldn’t. Whatever it is, man, you deserve it.”

His feet carried him onward.

“You gotta be sick of hearing me talk at this point. But I just…” Dean’s eyes glanced over the snowy Lebanon street in front of him, and he crossed the road. “I just want you here. Maybe I should take a damn hint.” His voice strained, hurt betraying the attempt at levity in his tone. “But you said… I keep thinking back on what you said. About how you feel. And I, uh. You know. If you’d just let me…”

Dean lifted his hands, a little helplessly, into the air as he walked, as though wanting to give something invisible to someone who wasn’t there. He dropped them awkwardly, his expression creasing.

He was circling back around towards the mall, his footsteps pointing him towards home. He looked heavy, weary. The lines on his face were deep, and his eyes were unfocused, lost in thought.

The people around him paid him no attention. He was just part of the crowd. They swirled across his path and around him, irrelevant to him, not seeing him. Except –

Dean came to a sudden stop. His gaze sharpened.

Twenty feet away from him, standing completely still, was a figure. Not struggling with carrier bags or strollers or wallets and keys like the other shoppers going into and out of the mall. Utterly stone still.

Tall, almost as tall as Dean. Wearing a long coat. Brown-haired. Impassive.

Watching Dean as though waiting for him.

And Dean visibly blossomed. His mouth fell slightly open, his shoulders loosened, one hand reached out unconsciously.

“Cas?” he said, disbelieving – and Dean saw a slight smile appear on Castiel’s face, and the angel slightly raised one hand in greeting.

Warmth touched Dean’s eyes, rising up as though from a great depth. He began to move, at first taking care on the slippery sidewalk. But his feet hurried him, and he was walking fast and then he was almost running, caution forgotten, eyes on Castiel’s.

It was when he was only a few steps away that his foot hit a patch of black ice. His arms went out, struggling to balance him – Castiel moved forward, one hand out – Dean reached for him on instinct, grasping his arm, his body relaxing in obvious expectation of Castiel being able to pull him upright –

But Castiel’s weight tilted along with Dean’s, and the ground gave them both a hard and cold welcome. There were some muttered ooohs from people passing by, and a few of them came to awkward stops nearby.

Dean landed hard on his back, head hitting the cement. He stared for a moment up at the sky. It had all happened very fast.

He sat up, and saw Castiel kneeling beside him, inspecting his own hands.

“Fuck,” Dean said. He put a hand to the back of his head. No blood.

“Are you okay?” said someone behind Dean, and he waved them off.

“All good,” he said, seeing in his peripheral vision that the people who’d stopped to look were moving on. He looked at Castiel. “Are you… you’re…”

Castiel stopped staring down at his hands, and looked at Dean instead. His blue eyes searched Dean’s face. Under his gaze, Dean smiled – a smile that grew on his face from a tiny brightness in his eyes until his whole face was alight with it.

“It’s you,” he said. "Damn, Cas, it's really you."

“It’s me,” Castiel confirmed. His voice held a recognition of Dean’s smile, a reciprocal warmth.

“You’re here.”

“I heard you,” Castiel said.

“You heard me? Just now?”

“Yes.”

Dean nodded. He was breathing a little fast. His gaze searched Castiel’s face, partly seeming to be looking for something, partly seeming already to have found it. People were stepping around them to get inside the mall.

“It’s good to see you,” Dean said.

Castiel smiled too, at last.

“But you know,” Dean added, “you could’ve just appeared right next to me instead of a whole freaking mile away on a slippery sidewalk. That’s all I’m gonna say.”

“Ah.” Castiel, still on his knees beside where Dean was sitting, dropped his gaze. “That was, in fact, not under my control. Jack sent me down here. After I asked him to do something for me.”

Castiel looked down at his hands again, and this time Dean looked too. His expression broke into slight surprise when he saw red on Castiel’s palms, at the sight of the blood – and then the surprise came in a second, deeper wave, as realisation hit.

“Cas,” he said.

“Just a graze,” Castiel said calmly.

“But you – you’re – that’s not supposed to happen,” Dean said. He reached out, and took Castiel’s hands in his own, inspecting the little scrapes on the skin. “You can’t get hurt like this.”

“Well,” Castiel said, “I can, now.”

“But you’re…” Dean stared at Castiel, seeming suddenly caught in consternation.

“Staying,” Castiel finished for him.

Wide-eyed, still sitting on the sidewalk, Dean took this in. Something light crossed his face, then anger, then confusion.

“I heard you,” Castiel reminded him. Dean stared at him.

“What I said?”

“Yes.”

“About staying?”

“Yes.”

“And you… you want that?”

Despite the hustle of people around them, the crunch-crunch of their boots in the snow and the harshness of their voices, Dean and Castiel might have been the only two people in the world when Castiel said,

“Yes, Dean.”

“So, but – before, in the bunker, with the Empty, when you said – the thing – the thing you said you wanted –”

Castiel looked down at their hands. Dean’s holding Castiel’s.

Dean tightened his grip.

“Just that?” he said, his voice sounding thick.

Castiel said nothing, words seeming to fail him.

They stared at each other. Hands in hands, touching, Castiel bleeding. Dean didn’t let go.

“It’s yours,” Dean said roughly.

“You mean…” Castiel’s eyes were suddenly wide. “You mean that you…”

“Since pretty much day one. I just never thought you’d want that from me.”

The world moved past and around them. They didn’t notice. Castiel was radiating happiness in every body line, though he was unmoving. Dean was watching him as though afraid he might disappear in the space of a blink.

"Is this real?" he said. "My head hurts enough for it to be real."

Castiel nodded.

“You’re really staying,” Dean said.

“As long as you’ll let me.”

After enough time under the steadiness of Castiel’s gaze, it seemed finally to sink in for Dean – the truth of it, the reality of it. Dean breathed out.

He swallowed. He looked down.

He smiled.

“We should get home, then,” he said.

Castiel didn’t say anything, but he gave a nod made small by emotion.

“Oh. I’m sorry, though,” Dean said, his eyes catching on Castiel’s small injuries now that he was looking down again. His thumb lightly touched the place where blood was drying on Castiel’s palm. “If I’d known I wouldn’t have run at you.”

“It’s fine,” Castiel said, getting to his feet and pulling Dean up with him, their hands not letting go.

“I’ll be more careful next time.”

“Don’t be,” Castiel said, his blood on Dean’s hands, and still holding them. “Don’t be.”

[kakashiswilloffire]

Congratulations on a 100! Can I request a female reader and a scenario where Kakashi discovers in a very shocking way that his s/o is pregnant? Please don't mind not writing if it bothers you. Stay hydrated and have a nice day regardless!🌸

thank you for the request!! hope you enjoy!!

***

A Kunoichi's Suprise

ao3

words: 1.9k

kakashi x fem!reader, fluff, reader is pregnant

***

“I do hate to do this to you, but you’re the best choice. There’s not an Inuzuka available who has the security clearance necessary, which makes you the only ninken-user I can assign this to.”

Kakashi nodded and shrugged, brushing off the unspoken apology. “I understand, it’s no issue.”

Tsunade pursed her lips into a thin line, nodding solemnly. “If it wasn’t so time-sensitive, I’d put someone else on it, I swear.” She tucked a loose strand of her silvery blond hair behind her ear and shuffled the papers on her desk, bringing a personnel file to the top. “And to accompany you… Again, I’m really sorry, but she’s the only one who makes sense. She was in the area most recently out of all available jonin and her weapons expertise makes her the best candidate to accompany you.”

His eyebrows dipped together in mild confusion. He would have requested this partner if she hadn’t been assigned—he agreed fully that they would make the best team for this recovery mission. Shaking it off, he nodded again. “Sounds great, Lady Fifth. Anything else?”

Tsunade let out a breath she had been half holding and leaned back in her chair. Tonton gave a relieved squeak and Shizune pulled her closer to her chest. The Hokage dragged her hands across her eyes, then leaned forward on her elbows.

“Glad you’re taking this so well. I thought you’d at least argue about your fiancé going with you, if not objecting to being sent on a mission right now at all.”

Kakashi jerked his head backwards and to the side, scanning over the Sannin with his single vibrant, gray eye. “I’m sorry if I gave you the impression I like to argue with superiors, Tsunade-sama. That’s really more Naruto’s thing.” She snorted, and he took it as a good sign. “When would you like us to head out? Thirty minutes?”

Immediately, Tsunade shot him down. “She needs a medic to look her over before she can go into the field. I’m happy to do it myself. Her training with her team ends at noon, right?” She glanced at the clock, then gestured to Shizune. “Send Kotetsu or Izumo to pull her, we can’t wait that long.” With a quick nod, she ducked out of the room. “Meanwhile, you can go pack bags for you both. Be sure to grab her med pack, I’ll probably need to give her a bonus prescription or two for the journey.”

At this point, Kakahi’s confusion could no longer be dismissed. Why would his fiancé need extra medication for a mission? He had just seen you when you left to meet your team of genin, and you hadn’t mentioned anything. Maybe the stomach bug you had had a few weeks ago had been worse than you let on?

“Sorry, prescriptions? Are we facing potential poisoning?” He tried, looking for an explanation.

Tsunade shook her head firmly. “Anything is possible, but I’m not concerned about it.” She ran her hand backward through her hair, shaking it gently toward the ends and letting it fall out of the way. “More concerned with making sure she’s getting the correct nutrients. I’ve been working on the nutritional value of shinobi rations, but it’s hard to find something that’s shelf stable, lightweight, and compact without just being food pills.”

Kakashi agreed, a debate he had heard on nearly every long term mission. “So you’ll give us both supplements, fair. Should we do my physical now while we wait on my fiancé to arrive?” He relished the words in his mouth, the phrase “my fiancé” almost a dream to him, even still.

She gave a bemused chuckle, glancing the scarecrow of a man up and down. “Why, you have some kind of boo-boo you need me to kiss?” Tsunade returned to the paperwork on her desk, shuffling it again and pulling the shinobi copy of the mission details file out, holding it out to him. “I trust you to get whatever nutrients you need after all these years of life, Bakashi,” she teased.

He didn’t move to take the file. “What’s going on?” he demanded, as respectfully as absolutely necessary. “What’s going on that she needs a medical check and extra medication to travel on a mission? Why did you think I would object to being paired with her? It’s not our first mission together, not even since we got engaged. What am I forgetting?”

Tsunade didn’t react to his interrogation, continuing to organize paperwork and leaning down to pull open a drawer in her desk, sliding his and your personnel files inside. “The fetus, maybe?” She offered, waving a hand like it was obvious.

The what?

For a moment, Tsunade could almost hear the cogs grinding in the shinobi’s head. You passing him every drink that had been pushed on you in the last few weeks, the stomach bug that he had never caught, and the uptick in morning meetings you had.

Then the cogs were brought to a halt, and the whole world froze. The blood running through his body was ice cold, and he felt his fingertips and forehead tingling. Were you really pregnant?

Was he, Kami forbid, going to be a father?

Tsunade swore, knowing she shouldn’t have said anything violating medical confidentiality, but with the pregnancy already being in the second trimester, she had no idea that you hadn’t told Kakashi yet. “Listen, Kakashi… just sit down, okay?” She looked around, swearing again at the reminder that this damn office had no chairs outside of the one she occupied.

She jumped up, crossing over to Kakashi and pushing him forward into the chair behind the desk. “Breathe, Kakashi, come on.” She shook him gently, then lightly slapped his cheek. “Come on, soldier. You’re Kakashi of the Sharingan, master of a thousand jutsu, pull it together.”

He flatly refused.

The door to the Hokage’s office opened, Shizune and Tonton leading you in. You took a moment to take in the scene of your fiancé hyperventilating behind the desk, the Hokage herself swearing and trying to get him to make eye contact and pull air into his lungs. Then he saw you, and he paused, fear in his eyes.

“Is it true—I mean, are you—love, are you pregnant?” He choked out.

Your hand flew to your mouth as if to put the secret back inside. You knew you’d have to tell him eventually, but you had wanted the moment to be right and he had been so busy with his missions lately. He didn’t know it yet, but you had rented a room at a nearby onsen for next weekend, making sure to get a room with a private bath and windows high enough that no onlookers could see inside so that he could comfortably remove his mask. That would’ve been the way you preferred he find out, when rather than dessert, you slid the sonogram across the table after dinner. Instead, you nodded.

“Yes, my love,” you whispered. “I’m pregnant.” Instinctively, your hand rested over the part of your stomach that had begun showing this last week.

He seemed to melt into chair. “Kami… we’re going to be parents?”

You nodded, a small laugh breaking from your chest. “Yes, Kakashi, that’s the plan.”

Slowly, he gathered himself, standing up and delicately walking around the desk to the doorway where you remained. “I… You want this?” He sniffed hard, blinking twice and taking your hands. “You want to raise a child with me? This child?”

You tilted your head to the side, feeling hot tears sting your eyes. You knew he had issues with his self worth, and that would be something you would focus on for the next few months so he’d be ready for your child.

“Of course, ‘Kashi. There’s no one I trust more, no one I think would make a better father. I can’t imagine doing this with anyone else, and I’m thrilled that I get to do it with you.”

His wiry frame jolted as though he’d been shocked, and the threw himself into your arms, allowing his fears and shock to leave him through tears. Tsunade and Shizune averted their eyes, doing what they could to preserve your privacy. Tonton oinked in solidarity. After a couple of moments, he stood again, wiping dry the parts of his face not covered by salty, wet fabric. He then hooked a finger into the mask at the side of his nose, yanked it down, and brought you into a deep kiss, warm hands wrapping around you and pulling you close.

After the surprise, you let yourself dissolve into him, allowing yourself to be swept into his emotional display. He pulled his face back after a few beats and beamed, smiling as widely as you could remember seeing him grin. Then his mouth was back on yours, this time for just a second, then a firm kiss to your forehead before he secured the mask again. Turning to face the Hokage, he wrapped his arm around your back and held you close.

“Tsunade-sama, all due respect, can Pakkun handle this? I’ll send him with anyone you’d like. Naruto, even, I don’t think he’s doing anything tonight. I can send the whole pack. I can brief Gai, or Tenzo, anyone? And if you need a weapons expert, I’m sure Tenten is more than qualified.” You giggled, watching your fiancé ramble to the leader of the village. “It’s just, I’m going to be a father, and she’s pregnant with our child, and I’ve gotta say, I don’t think we’re going on any missions for the next, say, 18 years? Well, maybe some D ranks. We’ll see.”

As Tsunade opened her mouth, he cut her off with a pointed, “How’s the progress on the Konoha Orphanage coming along? They prepared for one more? Cause I’m not letting anything happen to either of us, for this child’s sake.”

Tsunade glared, but was startled out of the shouting match she was gearing up for by Shizune chuckling. Betrayed, she turned to her companion.

“I mean, this is the reaction you anticipated him having, Lady Fifth,” she giggled.

She slammed a fist on the desk, although with an intense amount of restraint given that the surface was not even dented. Finally, she looked up with a glint in her eye.

“I think Hana Inuzuka gets back this evening. I can give her twelve hours to rest and then she and Tenten, along with Gai, can probably handle it. This time.”

Kakashi was already on his way out the door, pulling you behind him in a firmly clasped hand, before she had finished. He called out a thanks over your shoulder as you left. Together, you giggled as you entered the streets of Konoha.

Your fiancé spun in circles, laughing freely and spreading his arms out. “We’re starting a family!” he shouted to the sky. You knew you would both continue to take missions with this child, and that was a conversation for another time. For now, though, you were content to spend eternity watching the love of your life giddily relish in this moment.