#A) I dunno if she's sticking with the hotel just yet | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

slutforsnow · 3 months

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Chapter 9

FIRST DAY FESTIVAL TIME :3

TW/CW: Possessive/obsessive Coryo murderous thoughts

When the train that weaved its way through the districts arrived at D2, Sunni practically leaped off the train and hugged her friends who were waiting at the station for her. The friend group was quite large, comprising of maybe 6 people.

"Cori, Sej, come here, you guys gotta meet my friends!!" She called, waving to the boys as they gathered their own + Sunni's luggage off the train.

Getting a closer look at Sunni's friend group, Coriolanus realized that she had a very mixed group of friends; black, white, desi, indian, boys, girls, androgynous, plus sized, and skinny friends. He didn't think negatively of that fact, though; he thought it was nice to see her have a large and very close group of friends. Most girls back at the Academy just just stick 1 to 3 people, and there'd be one poc at the most.

"Guys, this is Coriolanus Snow and Sejanus!" She introduced stepping to the side, allowing everyone to shake hands. "Cori, Sej, these are my friends Nero Amadeus; he/him, Maxima Benedictus; he/she/they, Nataila Catullus; any and neos, Viktor Dellis; he/it, Vivian Diamandis; she/her, and the twins Dele, & Demitri Chaconas!"

A chorus of hellos and heys and followed Sunnis friends as the boys shook hands and introduced themselves to Sunni's friends.

"So, Sunshine, how's the Capitol?" Maxima asked as the residents of District 2 led the Plinths + Coryo to the hotel where the Academy students would be staying.

"Uh, shiny," Sunni answered. "And there's more douchebags."

"Ha, fuckin' told you Vik!" Demitri interrupted, reaching over to smack Viktor in the back of the head. He simply ducked, snickering as they instead hit Sunni.

"Hey-!!"

"Sorry, Sun, Vik ducked!"

Nataila laughed to herself as Vivian and Dele shared a look that read "they're so childish".

As the group chatted excitedly about plans for the week and caught up, learning about the Capitol as well, Coryo was glaring daggers at one of the males; Nero Amadeus.

Nero had his hands in the pockets of his jacket as he listened to the chatter, smiling as Sunni. He was happy to see her so excited and to be reunited with her friends but Coryo didn't know why and I was determined to get a straight answer out of the brunette or beat it out of him.

Cracking his knuckles and tossed his suitcase, which was actually Sejanus' that he was borrowing (read as stole), onto his bed once the group reached the hotel; all the Academy children were were on the top two floors and Sunni's group had the highest one.

"I don't trust that Amaedus guy," He huffed out to Sejanus.

"What? Nero? Why?" Sej asked, setting his backup suitcase on his bed.

"I dunno- I just get a bad feeling from him," He replied, tearing his hoodie off as he spoke.

"He seems pretty chill—besides, we just met the guy. It might just be your paranoia since this is your first time in 2," Sejanus offered, taking off his sweater and setting it on his bed.

"No, I don't think it's the paranoia. I'd know if it's the paranoia."

"Jealousy?" Coryo almost laughed. Him? Jealous? Over what? A girl that's not his yet?

"Jealousy, Sej? Really? Im not dating her, so why would i be jealous?" He asked, crossing his arms.

"Friends can be jealous. Hell, I thought Sunni would've replaced me after me, dad, and ma moved to the Capitol, buy she still cares just as much after a decade," Sejanus answered, opening the curtains to check our the view.

"That's different, you're family," the blonde snapped, falling back onto his bed. The was comfy; it felt like it was made entirely out of feathers, and it felt way better than his bed at home.

"Yeah, I suppose, but we should trust them. After all, they've been around Sunni longer than either of us, and for the past 10 years, I've only seen her on visits."

Coryo scoffed and rolled his eyes, mumbling whatever. He was going to find out if Nero had a thing for Sunni and if he needed to dispose of him to make sure he didn't get a chance.

But he'd also have to make sure that no one else would find out about how Nero "went missing". He needed Sunni to completely trust him, no matter the cost.

An awkward silence filled the room, only to be disrupted by loud music entering the room. Coryo sat up, glaring at where the music was supposedly coming from; he didn't need a headache before the festival.

"The hell is that?" Sej inquired, coming out of the bathroom, zipping up his fly. Coryo shrugged, and the two left their room, to see what the noise was. Seeing a door was cracked open, they gently pushed the door open and Coryo feel his blood boil.

Nero and Sunni were dancing to some upbeat and chaotic aong, singing along with it as the others were laughing and talking about an itinerary that Sunni made at some point. When did she make an itinerary, Coryo had no idea, but he didn't care right now. All he cared about was separating his girl from some loser nobody.

"So do you guys plan on making everyone else deaf?" Sejanus shouted over the music, grabbing the others' attention.

"Sorry, Sej, this is what we do all the time!" Sunni shouted back, letting go of Nero so he could turn up his hearing aids once the music was off.

"Why?" He yelled back, walking into the room, followed by Coryo, who was glaring daggers at Nero.

"Why not? It's an homage to how we met; loud music," Sunni replied, laughing as Dele turned the music down.

"Yep: we were all at a skate park, testing our skates and boards and we started bonding over some loud music people were playing," Demitri added as Viktor kicked their ass in another round of COD.

"Dude, how do you get so good at Call of Duty?"

"Eh, having divorced parents who always argue make it easy to find time to game," He replied with a shrug.

"So divorced parents equals being a god at Call of Duty?" Nataila teased, grinning.

"I mean, in my case, yeah."

"So then what does having a dead parent equal?" Maxima inquired.

"Art skills," Sunni answered, hopping her happy little butt onto the counter.

Coryo made his way to her as the others gasped and told Sunni she was quote unquote "wrong for that" while trying not to laugh despite Sunni giving them permission to, when Sunni was laughing and laid his head on her shoulder.

She beamed at this sudden "affection," and gently scratched the top of his head.

"Hi, Cori," She whispered to him as the others, including Sejanus, started talking about things they could do for the first day of the festival.

"Hey, Sunshine," He murmured, his breath hot against her neck.

"You okay?" She asked, gently lifting his head to meet his semi-relaxed gaze.

"Just feel better around you," He lied to her. Well, he wasn't really lying, but he couldn't say he was claiming what's his. He couldn't scare her off. He wouldn't scare her off.

"Okay," She replied, smiling and letting him go back to nuzzling her. Fortunately for Coriolanus, Sunni didn't notice the hateful and murderous glare he was sending towards Nero, who was chatting absent-mindly with Maxima.

Late into the afternoon, once all the Academy students were settled, the group had set off to explore District 2 and everything that had been set up.

Games, of course, for the little kids who had rich families or the Academy kids who had younger siblings or students who wanted to relax and feel like a child again, but also dancing, music, and all sorts of different delicacies. It was so wonderful, filling, and fun that they all felt calm. Even with the occasional dead dad or divorced parents jokes, which Coryo learned were coping methods that Sunni and Viktor used to cope with the loss, everyone felt happy.

But Coryo wasn't happy. People were calling to Sunni, getting hugs and having her full attention. Sejanus, at one point, had to restrain Coryo from committing any more crimes again because a guy hugged Sunni for 2 minutes too long.

Sure, Sunni reassured him and said he was "just a friend," but Coryo had countered with "friend's don't have their hands way too low where they shouldn't be." Which eventually led to Sunni nodding but telling him he didn't need to jealous because they guy was 15 and just really tall. At that point, Coryo let it go and gave in but has held her close to him, not wanting anyone to pull her away from him. As the group walked to another restaurant to check out the place, Sejanus shot Coryo a text wearing a shit eating grin.

Sejanus: Not jealous, hm? You haven't let go of Sunni since we found out about the loud music lmfao

Seen

Coryo rolled his eyes, seeing the text. Of course, he wasn't going to let go of Sunni. People could've turned against her after she was transferred to the Capitol, for God's sake! He had to protect his girl, even from her own friends if he had to.

Then Sejanus sent Coryo another text, but it was a photo of Coryo with his arms around Sunni's waist and holding her small hands in his and he had his head on top of hers.

He smiled a little at the picture and saved it to his phone before putting his phone in his pocket.

He'd make that his lockscreen later.

Tags: @etfrin @hearts4court @snows-wife @delusionalbunni @kiraflowersworld @victory-scream0462 @curled-hair-red-lips @morallygrayboys @phoward89 @xoxo-eyeballs @thereeallink @graciouslyc @acidaciruela @wanda-maximoff-enthusiast @firstworldproblemthings @nowitsmissing @poppyflower-22 @kuromismom7 @xjinnix @flw3rrr @plathsotherib @beaphobia @valeskafics @aoi-targaryen @elayasversion

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daughterofcain-67 · 6 months

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𝕽𝖆𝖎𝖘𝖊𝖉 𝖎𝖓 𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉 (𝔭𝔱.9)

(Dean Winchester x Female Reader)

(masterlist)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After an argument causes you and Dean to split up, Dean finds himself in trouble with Sam. Sam inevitably get’s Dean back to the bunker where he will begin the process of transforming back into a human.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: Needles, injections, Demon Dean being a jerk, I think that’s it?

Then..

“I think it wouldn’t be smart to try and double cross Crowley and screw up the deal. After all he is a businessman.”

“He’s just another demon. As long as he gets a soul, what’s the big deal?”

“You know, I really don’t appreciate the sudden appearances.” You rolled your eyes. Then you noticed the heavily displeased look on Crowley’s face, causing you to groan.

“What did he do?”

“Are you kidding me!? What didn’t that bastard do!? He killed my client so now I won’t be able to get the soul! He had the audacity to push me around like nothing in front of my servants! And he had the Gaul to tell me he would do whatever he wanted to do!”

“If he was really a demon, he would have done what he was told. He would have killed the designated victim without a second thought. He wouldn’t have had a preference if he were a full demon. I mean, even if Catrina was more of a bitch for her end of the whole ordeal, she was still a client who’s soul I lost because Dean can’t listen to an order! I even threatened the idea that he may have felt sorry for Bethany. If he had felt bad, then maybe he’s more human after all except he’s got those pretty black eyes of his and he’s working alongside you and me.”

“It was nice talking to you too, Y/N. But seriously. If you want to save your skin, either call Sam and tell him where Dean is, or walk away.” After that, Crowley walked out of your hotel room door.

“What are we going to do now, Dean?” You asked yourself but something deep within your conscience knew what you should do.

Now…

You had already typed out a message to Sam to let him know where Dean was. You hadn’t sent it yet since it was still in your draft box.

You didn’t want to betray Dean’s trust. Now that you’ve been exposed to different human emotions, you were beginning to figure out why it made you feel uneasy to think about betraying the person you’d been traveling with.

That vision was sticking with you though. What if Dean’s vessel was really fighting? What if there really was hope for Dean to be cured? Sam would be able to finally have his brother back and things could go back to the way that they were before.

On the other side of the coin, if he was human again, how much damage would his soul have taken after fighting the demon threatening to take over? And what if the mark starts to effect him again and he dies if he can’t kill.

If Dean were to die because he couldn’t kill, then the demon would just come back and you knew it would be yet another endless Winchester cycle. It would be torture for both of them if they went back and forth constantly like that.

Crowley was sure to sell Dean out if you weren’t going to send this message to Sam. So you knew Dean would be in trouble either way no matter what you did. You went ahead and saved the draft instead of sending the message to Sam and you put the phone in your pocket just as you heard the door open again.

You watched Dean come in holding a six pack of beer and you lifted a brow.

“Weren’t you just at the bar?”

“I take it Crowley came in and ranted to you.”

“I don’t know why I’m suddenly the marriage counselor for you two, but yeah. And he said things were over.”

“Well they are. So hopefully he won’t be expecting you to be some kind of shrink anymore.” You laughed slightly.

“I dunno, seemed kind of fun hearing about the things you do just to get under his skin.” You admitted as he sat down next to you. He offered you a beer and you took it.

“Although, I heard you did end up killing that client. I told you there would be problems after that.” You reminded as you opened the bottle and held it up to your lips as you drank from it.

“I didn’t ask for the ‘I told you so’ speech.” He said with a little grunt and you gave him a light nudge with your arm.

“I’m not saying that to be a bitch, I’m saying that now that you’ve done what you did, you need to keep an eye out for Sam. You know Crowley’s likely going to tell him where you are.”

“Why do you keep saying that?”

“Saying what?”

“‘You.’ As if you and I haven’t been doing this together? You’re in this muck just as much as I am. So why do you keep saying that?”

The question took you by surprise. Maybe that was just a moment of humanity on Dean’s part but you knew at this rate it would come to an end once he becomes a full demon.

“I say ‘you’ because your brother isn’t concerned about getting me back into the bunker, and I’m fairly certain he doesn’t want to turn me human. You know he’ll likely use human blood to cure you like you almost cured Crowley.”

Dean rolled his eyes at the thought of what his brother might try to do.

“Crowley said that you’re having trouble picking a side… You seem lost these days, Dean, and it’s a little-“

“I swear if you say it’s concerning or worrisome I’d rather you stop right there. I’m just fine and I don’t need you to act like you care about what Sam soes or what the condition of my soul is. It gets tiring.”

“Okay fine, I won’t say that. But I will say that it would be wise of you to at least think about what Crowley says about picking a side. At least killing humans for Crowley gave you a fix and it would have kept you out of trouble!”

“I don’t need you to tell me what to think about. I sure as hell don’t need you to tell me what to do! Especially from someone who doesn’t know what they want themselves.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh nothing. Just that you don’t know what you want just as much as I don’t. You’re nothing but a hypocrite.”

You clenched your jaw for a moment, “You know, snarky ass comments like that make me understand Crowley’s impatience with you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You put your bottle of beer down and you looked down at Dean, “I mean that you think you can say whatever you want, push whoever you want around without any regards as to what the people around you think or feel. I told you back when you and your brother first got me that you needed to think about who you would lose. You’ve lost a friend in Crowley, you’re dead set on losing your brother for some crazy ass reason, and if you aren’t careful you might lose me too.”

“Oh sweetheart, you aren’t really thinking of going anywhere are you? What are you gonna do, run off to Sam and rat me out before Crowley does?” He asked with a cocky smirk you were tempted to smack off his face. But you watched him stand up too, looking down on you with such a condescending look.

Perhaps this was his turning point? Was he going to kill you here in the hotel room like he did in your vision? If he did, you knew you may have deserved it for so many people you’ve killed. But you’d be damned if it was by Dean’s hands like this.

“If I left then you wouldn’t have anyone looking out for you. Wouldn’t have anyone advising you so you could mistake them for nagging you. You won’t have anyone to make sure you stay out of trouble but hey - maybe you like it that way. Maybe it’s some sort of leftover self sacrificial Winchester bullshit your human self left behind.”

“Oh yeah and where would you go? You closed down your shop in Ohio. Sam’s not gonna take you. Crowley’s not gonna give a damn what you do. You won’t have anywhere to go.”

So he wasn’t going to stop you, just comment on how he didn’t think you knew how to go into hiding. You scoffed as you brushed past him and started grabbing your things.

“Sweetie, I’ve only had that shop for a few years of my lifetime. No one knew where I was before that and I can guarantee no one will know where I go next. I’ll fade from your memory and you’ll never have to see me again.” You said as you slung your back over your shoulder.

When you looked back at him, you saw something flash in his eyes. You didn’t know what it was but for a split second you could tell that was the human side of Dean and you wondered if deep down, he wanted you to stay. But it was too late.

“By the way, since you’re a demon now… I’ll take that back.” You said and you held out your hand. Then the First Blade slipped from behind Dean’s back and right into your hands.

“Y/N.. You know that we can find you if you take that thing with you. So fine! Go ahead and go!”

“You see the thing is, I seldom return to the same place I was before. Not that you’ll decide to look but if you did, I’ll keep you on your toes and you’ll never know where I’ll be.” You said before you walked out of the door.

Dean was sitting at a bar in front of a piano. That conversation with Crowley was beginning to bug him.

He didn’t pitty that girl he was assigned to kill. He just didn’t like the hypocracy so that’s why he killed the client. So what? Now Crowley was at least out of his hair so he could continue killing and doing whatever he wanted.

What more did he need?

This was his life and he was living it the way that he wanted to. He was happy, he was free. He didn’t have to answer to anyone if he didn’t want to. He could drink as much beer, sleep with whatever girl he wanted to, and he didn’t need to worry about the consequences. Why couldn’t everyone just accept that?

He pressed down on a couple of keys on the piano while his mind was swimming in all of these thoughts. Then he looked up at his hand. He tilted his head as he pulled out a different knife since he always had some kind of weapon on him. Dean pressed the blade into the palm of his hand and watched as a red line appeared and blood began to seep out.

Those words came into his mind from Crowley again… Was he a human? Was he a demon?

“Pick a bloody side!”

Dean’s jaw clenched as that last phrase rang through his head perhaps louder than the rest of the conversation he had with Crowley. His eyes changed to black and slowly, the wound in Dean’s hand began to close up as if nothing had ever happened.

Watching you leave was getting to him too. Deep down he had to admit he was having fun with you around. He’s killed with you, shared beers with you, laughed with you after he got you back from Cincinnati. He knew that if he did have the slightest bit of humanity left within him, he’d maybe even start to have feelings for you.

“I’ll fade from your memory…” Your voice echoed and his hand turned into a fist. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he wouldn’t just forget about you.

None of that mattered, though, now that you left. Maybe that was just the kick in the ass that he needed to embrace being a full demon. He needed that blade back that you took. He knew there were ways to find it so that was only a temporary issue of his. Then he could kill you with it and not have to worry about anybody taking it ever again.

The next thing Dean knew, he could hear footsteps. Judging by the weight of each step and how heavy they sounded, Dean could tell without even looking that it was his little brother again.

“Sammy. I see that guy that was supposed to put a bullet in your brain must’ve missed.”

He slowly looked up at Sam who had those same pathetically empathetic puppy dog look in his eyes. He looked like he had gotten into a fight with someone, but Dean wondered how desperate he was for another fight if he came around here.

“So. Who winged ya?” Dean asked as he took his glass of whisky and started to drink from it.

“Does it matter?” He heard his brother ask, making Dean shrug.

“Not really.” He replied, setting the drink down along with the knife he had.

“Where’s the First Blade?” Sam asked and Dean’s gaze darkened or a second.

“Nowhere you can find it and try to take it, that’s for damn sure.” He said. “I told you to let me go.”

“You know I can’t do that,” Sam said, but surely he had to see that Dean didn’t care why he couldn’t just let him go. “By the way, Crowley was the one that sold you out. I got a message from Y/N shortly after.”

Dean tried not to wince at the idea that you ratted him out to his brother. Crowley, he knew, would do something like that. With you he shouldn’t have been surprised.

“Really now. Sounds like something they’d do.”

“Crowley? Yeah. Did you have a falling out with Y/N or something?” Sam asked and Dean chuckled.

“Right now is when you want to talk about chick problems? Please, there’s nothing to talk about there. Next topic.” Dean said as he stood up and held the knife.

It wasn’t the first blade, much to his dismay, but he knew Sam would die with a knife just the same. And Dean knew he would have just as much fun killing his brother no matter what weapon he used.

“Woah, now hold on a second. We don’t have to do this. We know how to cure demons remember? And Y/N even confirmed it can be done with this mark.”

“Sam, didn’t it ever occur to you that maybe I didn’t want to be cured? Didn’t you ever stop and think that if I wanted to be cured I wouldn’t have bailed?”

“That had to be Crowley.”

“No, It really wasn’t. And it wasn’t Y/N either in case you were wondering.”

“Okay well that doesn’t matter. Either way, you and I will be able to fix this. It’s always been us against the world and why would this situation be any different?” Sam asked as he cautiously walked towards Dean.

Dean smirked a little, amused that Sam was so adamant about this. “Will we fix this though? Because right now, I’m doing all I can not to take this knife and gut you like some kind of fish.”

The look on Sam’s face was so worth it, the terror and shock of it all that he would kill his own brother after all they’ve been through. “Sam, I’m giving you a chance. Walk out that door, and for the sake of your own hyde, don’t come back.”

“Sorry, I’m gonna have to pass.”

Dean hummed a little as he poured himself another glass of whisky, “So what’s your plan? Because I’m not walking out that door with you. It’s just not happening, so are you gonna kill me instead?”

Sam watched as Dean took the sip of the alcohol and shook his head a little, “No,” he finally replied.

“Why? You don’t know what I’ve done. Hell, I might even have it coming.”

“I’m not gonna kill you, Dean, because you’re my brother.”

“Oh this whole speech again? Please, you can’t expect the brother speech to work every time. Where were you the time I was in Purgatory, huh? Where were you when I was being tortured in Hell? You didn’t worry about saving me then, and whenever I try to bring it up - you’ve even said that the fact that we’re brothers is not a cure-all.” Dean seethed.

“Well either way, you are my brother and whether you like it or not, I’m here to take you home.” Dean bursted into a fit of laughter at this line.

“W-What? Are you kidding? ‘I’m your brother and I’m here to take you home.’ Oh I didn’t realize I was in some kind of Hallmark movie.” Dean laughed.

Sam’s jaw tightened but then he reached into his pocket, pulling out the demon cuffs before Dean spoke again, “You really think that’s gonna work on me?”

“No, but this might.” Dean heard a different voice say.

When he turned to you, he saw you only to get burned with Holy water and he groaned with the pain of it all. He got up and he started to pull his knife on you and saw that you were holding the First Blade in your hand.

“You bitch!”

“Oh, Honey, I’ve been called worse by people more threatening than you.” You seethed and when Dean tried to lunge at you, Sam managed to cuff Dean with the demon cuffs.

Naturally Dean tried to fight Sam off when he was cuffed and he felt useless. The most humiliating feeling in existence as he was shoved into the back seat of his own, messy car.

When the door slammed shut, Dean looked out of the window and saw you, Crowley and Sam all there. A little trio of traitors.

You three were talking about something that he couldn’t quite make out but when he looked at you and the both of you made eye contact, Dean wondered if even once you may have felt something for him before you stabbed him in the back like this.

The eye contact with Dean was giving you an ache in your stomach. He looked at you with nothing but hatred in his eyes. After that fling you had, you wondered if you may have stood an actual chance since you were both demons at the time.

But you were honestly growing tired of all of this. You were glad that this could be over.

“Now now, Y/N. You know you don’t actually have a use for it if you really want to be in the underground. Dean could easily find you if you have the blade.” Crowley said

You bit your lip and you looked down at the weapon. It was true that you loved killing with it again, but it was also true that you never really needed it. Not in the way that Dean did.

You cautiously handed Crowley the blade and you heard Sam speak, “So where are you going to hide it?”

“I dunno. Crater on the moon, some volcano, I’ll get creative, don’t worry. With the type of grudge Dean can hold since we all betrayed him, I don’t want to get boned you know.” Crowley said then he looked at you.

“Good girl for making the right choice and saving your skin.” The demon said and you scowled.

“Get bent. He still wouldn’t have been in this mess if you never went after Cain you know.” You replied.

“Ahh well. Learn from your mistakes I suppose.” He shrugged.

“Ciao.”

When Crowley disappeared, you could hear Sam turning around to go to the car but you reached out and put a hand on his arm, “Wait a second.”

Sam turned to you and lifted a brow, “I thought we were done here.”

“Well, yeah with the whole maintaining Dean’s mark thing, yeah that was pretty much shot the moment he died. And.. And I’m sorry that I wasn’t much help with that.” You began and you could see from the look on his face that Sam was surprised and wasn’t exactly expecting this kind of conversation.

“Uh… okay?”

“I want to ask you a favor though.”

“Um.. yeah, okay, I guess… shoot.”

“Let me be there in case you need help during the process. Crowley is right, you know how Dean can hold a grudge. And who knows what Castiel’s condition is.”

“I don’t see how that’s really a favor to you, but I guess I can work with that. I’ll need whatever help I can get. But I’m gonna need a few days that way I can get Dean to the bunker and get him secured so he doesn’t escape while I get sanctified blood.” You nodded a little and you and Sam shook hands as a parting.

Sam gave you a grin, “Dean was right. You aren’t like any other demon we’ve come across before.”

You wondered when he said that to Sam during the midst of the whole Metatron ordeal, but you didn’t comment on it.

“Keep in touch and let me know when you need me at the bunker.” You said and Sam nodded.

You looked over at Dean one last time. His gaze was still on you but this time when you looked, he scowled and looked out of the window. Then you snapped your fingers and left.

Several days went by and Sam was able to get Dean bound to a chair in a devils trap in their dungeon. He gave you a call to let you know that he had the sanctified blood and you could stop by to check in or whatever but obviously he was more focused on saving his brother.

He opened the door and saw his big brother raise his head only to glare with that arrogant smirk he seemed to like to wear now more than ever.

“So you’re really gonna do this? Please, I know you wanna try and fix your big brother. But news flash, Sammy. Maybe I don’t wanna be fixed.”

Sam looked at his brother, knowing that the trash talk was bound to happen sooner or later. But it was still annoying when demons talked like that.

“Just let me go and live my life and I won’t bother you.”

“Yeah, no can do, Dean.” Sam said as he opened up the container of human blood and started breaking out the needles.

“Oh what do you care?”

Then there was a moment or two of silence while Sam started splashing holy water onto the concrete floor. He began muttering some Latin while his brother ranted about how he wasn’t going to be all ‘weepy’ or whatever like Crowley was.

“You don’t even know if this is going to work, do you?”

“I know this will work.”

“I’ve got a hell of a lot more in me than just this demon juice.”

“Yeah, the Mark of Cain, blah blah blah… I know. We’ll deal with that later.” Sam said, unphased by whatever threats his brother was trying to pull. Instead, Sam grabbed a needle of human blood that happened to be the same type as Dean’s.

“Awe, Sammy.. You know how much I hate needles.”

“Yeah well… you know how much I hate demons.” Dean changed his eyes and tried to intimidate Sam, just for Sam to splash the demon with the Holy water and he stabbed the needle into Dean’s arm, injecting him with the first dose.

Sam stepped back to observe how Dean would take it. After a few seconds, Dean began to cry out and groan. His muscles tensed, the veins in his neck popped up and he was pulling against his restraints. Sam could hear the way Dean’s voice changed to something deeper and assumed that was the demon part of him beginning to fight for his life.

“We have more where that came from.” Sam said.

Then he stabbed Dean with another needle with human blood into his arm, causing Dean to wince again.

“For all you know… you could be killing me right now.” Dean managed to speak between heavy breaths.

“Yeah, or you could just be messing with me to get me to stop this.” Sam replied, placing the needle down so he could grab another. “Either way, the lore doesn’t mention any exceptions. This should work whether a demon has the mark or not.”

“Oh this is just a load of crap! Lore, hunters, monsters. All of it.”

“Oh what do you know? This isn’t even the real Dean I’m talking to.”

“Oh yes it is, Sammy. This is the real me. The new real me. The me that sees things for what they really are. And I know the things you’ve done while you were out looking for me. The stunts you’ve pulled with those poor unfortunate souls. Unfortunately for you, one of those humans got themselves killed by yours truly.”

Sam’s eyes widened when he heard this. He didn’t know anyone had gotten hurt. Yeah he had told one or two humans about making deals with demons. Sure he may have tortured those demons to try and get any kind of information. But none of the humans were supposed to get killed!

“There’s no difference between you and me. You’re just as bad if not worse than I am. Hell, Cain himself may have thought you could be a candidate for this mark if he saw the shit you’ve done over the past few months.” Dean said.

“We Winchesters… gosh, I just thought it was you and me that defied the natural order. Defied death one too many times. Turned out guys like me, are the natural order. This is how things are supposed to be Sam. So just leave it be.”

“Yeah well… guys like me… we still have to do what we can. Whether guys like you like it or not. No matter how blurred the grey line between black and white has become.” Sam said.

“Yeah, you’re tellin’ me. You just tortured whatever demon you could come across just because Crowley was a no show and no one knew where we were. We did pretty good stayin off the radar before Crowley sold me out.” Dean smirked.

Sam clenched his jaw yet again before he jabbed Dean in the back of the neck, injecting him with even more blood. After that, Sam walked back to the table and set the needle down. He couldn’t believe that human lost both her life and her soul because Dean killed her. He killed Catrina.

“You know what Crowley also told me, Dean? He told me you were too wish washy.” Sam said, beginning to taunt Dean back and he looked at his brother. He needed some kind of payback and sometimes it was fun to taunt demons.

“He said it was like you were torn in the middle of being human and being a demon. So you may think you’re a big bad demon now even with that mark, but you aren’t as intimidating as you think you are. I know my brother is in there somewhere, and I know that maybe the human part feels like shit after letting Y/N walk right out your front door.” Sam said and he watched as Dean slowly lifted his head to glare broodingly again.

“What does that wench have to do with any of this, huh? She’s nothing.” Dean growled.

“Oh you say that, but deep down you know you were wrong. She was the one that wanted to make sure I never found you, remember? She was the one that told me that you didn’t want that kind of accountability anymore. Admit it, you needed her more than you think you did.”

“Shut up, Sam.”

“In fact, with as much time as you’ve spent with her, and the fact that Crowley told me you two even had a fling, not to mention that while you were alive she seemed to affect you pretty well… whatever is left of my brother may have even fell in love with her without knowing it.”

“I said SHUT UP”

The demonic voice boomed from Dean and Sam injected the demon with yet another needle of blood. The demon shut his eyes tight and barred his teeth, hands turning into fists as Sam walked away from him.

“You know… if this doesn’t work, you may have to kill me, Sam. Do you really have the stomach for that?” Dean asked, and Sam stopped for a moment. But then he walked out of the room to give Dean a little break. He had a phone call to make to Castiel since he had been giving the angel updates.

You made it to the bunker and you were surprised that Sam never made new spells. You had been in this bunker before and they made a way for you to have immunity to the wardings. Not that you were overly concerned about that.

You started walking downstairs and you figured since this place was so big, Sam wouldn’t be able to hear you. You figured he’d be at the dungeon with Dean. Sure enough, as you walked down the stairs to the dungeon you saw Sam hanging up the phone with someone.

“Y/N, there you are.”

“Hey… catching up with your little angel friend?” You asked as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“Yeah… just gave some less than hopeful news is all.” You heard him admit and you knew whatever Castiel said, it couldn’t have been good.

“Castiel says I have to be ready to kill Dean if this goes sideways….”

You frowned a little, knowing Sam didn’t want to think about watching Dean die yet again after having him back in the bunker for the first time in months.

“Hold on to that hope, Sam. Yeah, be prepared. But we may not even have to think about that just yet.”

“He’s not doing well, Y/N… this wasn’t like when we tried to cure Crowley. This is different and he’s in pain. A lot of it.”

Sam walked away from you and what started out as his average step turned into a rush as you heard Sam call Dean’s name. You walked behind him and saw that Dean had his head hung low and Sam was trying to wake him up.

“Dean? Dean, come on, man you’ve gotta wake up. We aren’t done with this.” Sam said and Dean slowly opened his eyes again.

“I’m up.” He grumbled incoherently.

You could hear Sam let out a breath of relief as he stood up but you hid behind a corner, not wanting Dean to see you.

“Dean.. you’re okay…”

“Yeah… if you say that drowning in sweat while your blood boils is okay….” You could hear just from the sound of Dean’s voice that he wasn’t doing so good.

“Well, we have to keep going. We can’t stop.”

“Sure you can. All you have to do is just stop.” Dean said and looked up at his brother. But that was when Dean sensed it. He sensed you.

You were there. He knew you where there. That made the pain of this whole thing fell so much worse now that you were there able to see it. But he had to maintain that facade.

He wouldn’t give you the satisfaction of being affected by you, not after what you did.

“There’s no point in trying to bring your brother back, Sammy and I keep trying to tell you that.” He said as he watched Sam walk back to that table with those damned needles he was hating more and more by the second.

“Your guilt ridden, weight of the world wearing brother has been M.I.A. for quite some time now. But I’m loving this new me whether you like it or not.” He said.

“You wanna know why I wanted to get away from you? As far away as possible? It was to get away from your whining and complaining over this mark. Your nagging. I even chose the king of Hell over you. But damn, I got stuck with a bitch that was a worry wart just like you are! How crazy is that.” He laughed, knowing you were there to hear it.

“But you know what the kicker is? Maybe I’m just tired of luggin’ your ass around and constantly trying to save you just because you were all I had left. The truth is, my mom would be alive if it wasn’t for you. Hell, so would my dad. Your very existence ruined all of what i could have had, did you ever think about that?” Dean continued.

At this point, rambling and taunting was enough to distract himself from the physical pain these treatments were causing him.

“This isn’t my brother talking.” Sam said and Dean scoffed.

“You never had a brother! I was just some excuse for you to never man up. I was the one watching out for you and you could just sit back, relax, and you didn’t ever have a need to see half the shit I saw growing up. I was a bodyguard, not your brother.”

“Besides… Do you ever get tired of telling yourself that, kid? Because deep down, you know it’s true.” Dean smirked.

“No because I know you aren’t my real brother right now and I can’t quit on this. This family doesn’t get to quit.”

“Yeah well we’ve got nothin, don’t we?” Dean tilted his head.

“Is that something you had the balls to tell Dad?”

Then so many memories of John Winchester came up and he laughed as best as he could, ignoring the pain the laughter caused him.

“Dad… now there’s a prize. A man who brainwashed his kids, trained them to be soldiers to win his losing battle. He didn’t even get to kill the demon he wanted to, by the way. He couldn’t just accept the death and move on and try to make a normal life for his two sons. What a good role model.”

Dean watched Sam go to the table and pick up another needle, “What, is this a sorry attempt for you to grow a pair?”

“No… This is an attempt for me to pull your sorry ass out of the fire.” Sam said and yet again, pierced Dean’s skin with the needle.

Dean tensed up again and he could feel himself losing his strength. His vision was beginning to go blurry but as he lifted his head, he caught a glimpse of you before the door was shut.

This wasn’t over. And Dean would make sure of that.

Hey guys! Thank you for reading! This series unfortunately is almost over but I want to thank all of you for the support you’ve shown through your feedback, reblogging, and liking. I wish you all the best!

Tag List:

@roseblue373 @deans-spinster-witch @chriszgirl92 @johannelis2302nely @justtrying2getby-blog @alternativeprincess94 @doctorlexilouwhosblog @deangirl96

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bluezey · 7 days

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I'm just sharing this on my Tumblr because, while it's Alastor and Hazbin Hotel related, it's not related enough to spam all over the HH fan groups I follow on Facebook. And, I'm not part of any Hazbin Hotel discords at the moment, which also sucks. So for those reading this, you're welcome to spam it at those places if you think it's on topic enough. Just remember to credit me

As for everyone on Tumblr, let's go all over the place on this topic!

So, I found out much of Vivziepop's characters were made years ago, especially Alastor, she made him way back in middle school. And it made me think way back to college when I made a few of my characters.

I have a lot of them, but three stand out as the ones most used. One is named Bluesy, is an adult human female, admittedly, myself in a role playing world 😅 Another is named Tao, and while technically human, she was created in a lab to devolve humans to their nearest common ancestor, so she has special abilities up to and including a long grasping tail.

And then there's this character I want to talk about. I had to draw her to introduce her to you people, please excuse the crappy colored pencils.

Her name is Lirious, and the more I think of her, the more I realize that I may have made my own version of Alastor

Now granted there are differences, thank God, I don't want to accidentally make a carbon copy. She's a demigoddess, she's thousands of years old, she dresses like that, and she is more than happy to openly flirt into any hot male's pants. But, she is a demigoddess of chaos, she does have a prominent red and black color scheme in her outfit, she has a cane, and, no joke, did not plan this... she also loves making deals.

Now, my DeviantArt page may be gone by now, thank God. But, I made her around sophomore year in college, so that's be about... 2003, 2004. Predating Alastor by five years!

Now, let me clarify, I'm not rooting my own horn or saying I beat Vivzie to the punch. It's fun to have two chaotic beings causing chaos. My point is... how common is it for people to make their official characters, and one is an unofficial Alastor? I mean, we joke about it when we watch other media and think "oh hey, it's Alastor." But no, without even being aware, I made a character, that I find twenty years later, has some uncanny similarities. And, when I brought this up to some friends, they also said that, before they knew of Alastor's existence, they accidentally made their own unofficial Alastors too!

Maybe this is a trope to have some chaotic overpowered being just there to cause chaos with a side of move the plot, I dunno!

So, the point of the post:

One, yes, Lirious and my characters can be available for rps, but it's been a very long time, and I'd rather RP with someone who's above eighteen, because Lirious is more of a mature rated character with how horny she is 😅 The rest of the characters I can make PG, but I'd still recommend more grown up players

Two, and more importantly, have you ever made any characters and realized zed that you accidentally made an unofficial clone of another character? Especially if you didn't plan it that way, and especially if the character didn't even exist yet

Oh, and here's some Alastor for you sticking it out through my entire rambling 😅

#alastor hazbin hotel #original character

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scarlettriot · 2 years

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Breaking Point - Just Platonic

Pairing: Hockey Player Eijiro Kirishima x F!Reader

Warnings: Minors DNI, Swearing

Contains: As the pairing suggests, Kiri is a hockey player, reader is also plus size.

Summary: Mina suggests staying overnight when an away game is too far to drive back home on the same day.

Word Count: 3,040

A/N: This is part four in the Breaking Point series. Thanks for sticking with me! Still kinda sick but I really wanted to write this out! Friendly reminder this is a quirkless AU.

Other Parts:

Breaking Point - Part One - Locked Out

Breaking Point - Part Two - Intimacy

Breaking Point - Part Three - On Ice

Breaking Point - Part Four - Stitches

Tags: sleepynaya, @kenmakai, @ace-of-books, @swirrley, @mistyfoxsong - Thank you <3

Away games that were more than a three-hour drive from the university called for overnight getaways, Mina had explained to you, “It’s just with the game not starting usually until 8 or 9, we usually just prefer to stay the night and drive back in the morning.” It made sense, three plus hours there, then playing a game only to turn around and drive right back, that did seem exhausting. Hell, even the hour and a half drive last weekend was a pain in the ass.

“Usually I can find some deals on hotels though if I book five or more rooms. Sooo,” She drug out the question, swinging her feet off the edge of your bed, “Can I count you in?”

She really didn’t need to ask to know the answer.

Two days later, late Saturday afternoon, you were in the back of Eijiro’s jeep along with Denki and Izuku. Hanta followed in the car behind with Mina, Mezo, and Kyoka, Tamaki and Mirio were following behind them, and leading the pack were Tetsu and Itsuka.

Autumn had officially taken hold but Eijiro had yet to put the roof on his jeep, allowing for cool air to whip around your face and gave you a wonderful view of the orange and yellow trees that paralleled the highway.

“Is he gonna make it?” You overheard Izuku ask Denki who was smooshed between the two of you.

Denki was still frowning at his phone when he answered, “Doesn’t look like it. The shop is still busy and he doesn’t think he’ll be cut in enough time to get there by game time. Said he’d drive up anyway though…”

“You’ve got a good one, Denks.” Eijiro smirked and knocked his fist against his friend’s knee pulling a small smile from him.

“Yeah, yeah I do.”

You rested your chin atop folded arms, leaning against the lip of the car and getting lost in the calming prattle of your friends. Most of which being Katsuki going over plays from the last game and how they could be improved upon, easy enough for you to tune out and get lost in the thoughts of your own mind. Of course, a single thought didn’t stick around for more than a couple seconds, too busy bouncing from one thing to the next.

Papers that were coming due, exams, and, even though you still had two months, the winter holidays. You had no intentions of going home for them. Perfectly content spending them inside your apartment on campus even if everyone else decided to go to their respective homes. Being alone was fine, you could handle that far better than you could dealing with the judgment and whispers that followed you around your hometown.

The car swayed when Katsuki whacked Eijiro’s arm. “Are you listening?”

“Oh!” Denki’s excited chirp made you look over your shoulder, “There’s a rest station comin’ up! Can we stop? I want coffee!”

“Like you, of all fuckin’ people, need caffeine!”

“I dunno man, I could stretch my legs.” Eijiro sighed, “And I am the one driving. Sorry man, but you don't have much of a say.”

“Fine! No more than fifteen minutes though! Still wanna get checked into the hotel before the game.”

Denki already had his phone back out, texting Mina, Amajiki, and Itsuka to let them all know while Izuku patted his boyfriend's arm, reassuring him they were still far ahead of the schedule he had planned.

The rest stop was a sizeable one to Denki’s excitement. He was going to settle for vending machine coffee but here he had options. Meanwhile, you grabbed something to munch on and refilled your water bottle while talking with Mina who was still sad she couldn’t convince you to be with her in Hanta’s car, “I’m gonna make Kit Kat drive next time,” She grumbled, “That way you and Kiri can drive with us.”

“What does Kiri have to do with it?”

“You go in whatever car Kiri is in.”

“That’s because he always drives.”

Mina folded her arms over her chest, “Babe, you realize you could just tell me you like him, right?”

“Mina!” You hissed and she just rolled her eyes.

“Fine. Don’t admit it. Keep pretending everything between you two is just totally platonic… ya know, like the man hasn’t been watching you standing here the entire time we’ve been talking.”

“You just said we,“ You screwed the lid on your water bottle, ”He could be looking at you too.“

She shook her head of poofy pink hair. “Nope. He hasn’t looked at me like that since we were kids.”

That was news to you, “You and Eijiro…”

“For a couple months back in middle school.” She waved it off, “We were like thirteen and learned we are way better friends than anything more! My point is, I know what that guy looks like when he’s caught feelings, and he has, for you, in case I’m not being clear enough.”

You pushed open the door with your hip. “Mina… I think you’re reading into things a little much. There’s nothing there.”

“Doesn’t mean there shouldn’t be!” She called and then jogged off back to Hanta’s car while you walked back over to Eijiro’s jeep.

You were the first one back of the group, dropping in your small bag of goodies and bottle before hoisting yourself onto the tire and then swinging inside. It was after you tore into the snack you bought when you looked up to see Eijiro walking back, hands in the pockets of his jacket.

He didn’t climb back inside though, instead, he leaned against the jeep, right beside your seat. “Would you like to talk about what’s going on with you?”

You nearly choked, “What? What do you mean?” Really hoping he hadn't somehow heard what Mina was going on about.

Eijiro spun around long arms resting against the lip of the car, his chin on top of them, and you realized he was mimicking you when he let out a wistful sigh just before you shoved his face and told him to shut up with a laugh.

“I was just enjoying the drive, Eiji. It’s been a while since I’ve taken a road trip, and, it’s just a really pretty time of year,” You gestured to your surroundings, “And it sure as hell isn’t gonna last long. I just wanted to enjoy it.”

He looked away from you and you were starting to realize he was getting better at telling when you weren’t giving him the full truth. “Fall has always been my favorite time of year,” those ruby eyes met yours again, “But, you’re sure there’s nothing else happening?”

“’M positive. You don’t have to worry about me so much,” You poked at the crinkle between his brows, “You’re gonna wrinkle this pretty face if you keep it up.”

The corner of his mouth propped up in a smile. He still didn’t look like he believed you but he wasn’t going to keep pressing the issue when he could hear Katsuki coming back to the car.

>>><<<

Everyone was back in their cars and on the road by Katsuki’s time limit meaning that roughly an hour and a half later you arrived at the little hotel Mina had found.

Though it looked more like an old home renovated into a hotel or an inn rather. It had white paneling with cherry red shutters over the many windows and a beautiful wrap-around porch with rocking chairs and bench swings. The inn itself and surrounding grounds were all decked out for the festive fall season with pumpkins and hay bails, tall stalks of corn, and some silly scarecrows. “Oh, it’s even cuter than the pictures online.” She gushed.

“You picked this place because it looked cute?”

She bumped shoulders with Katsuki. “I picked it because it’s ten minutes from where your game is, they serve breakfast and dinner, and they gave me a deal since we’re a group that kept us well within our budget.”

He sighed reluctantly but then walked with her inside to make sure everything was in order with the reservations.

By the time you had gathered your backpack and finished looking around the outside of the house, you'd come to the conclusion it was something out of a Hallmark movie, you walked inside the inn, following the sound of Katsuki’s disgruntled voice to the reception counter.

“I’m sorry, sir, the quickest we can get someone out here to fix the issue is going to be Monday so that room simply isn’t available.”

Katsuki had two fingers pinching the bridge of his nose while Mina gnawed on her thumbnail, clearly trying to think. “What’s wrong?” You asked Kyoka who was lingering towards the back of the group.

“The heater went out in one of the rooms and it caused a small electrical issue too. All the other rooms are occupied right now so two of us are kinda screwed.”

“Doesn’t need to be two… Eijiro, Denki, and myself, we all had singles since everyone else is paired off. One of us could just give up our room and can find a different hotel for the night. I don't mind being that person as long as I can get a ride.” You offered even though it really wasn’t her you should be telling that to.

“That’s nonsense,” Itsuka cut in, “If anything you and I can bunk together and so can Tetsu and Eijiro.” You gave her a look knowing damn well she didn’t actually want to be split up from her boyfriend for the night but Itsuka would always do the kind thing to help someone in need.

“Do any of the rooms have two beds?” You heard Denki ask.

“Well, yes…”

“Great, problem solved. Kiri and I will take one of those rooms and Y/N can have the other. No one else in this group needs two beds. That alright with you?” He asked Eijiro who’d been standing behind him who was quick to agree it seemed like the most logical option. “Perfect.”

Room keys were passed out along with a dinner and breakfast for the following morning, “We serve dinner at eight in the dining room but the kitchens remain open until 10:30, no orders will be accepted later than that.” She explained and soon enough, everyone was climbing up the stairs, hauling bulky bags behind them while the poor receptionist winced.

Your room, one with two beds instead of just one, was down at the far end of the long hallway lit by brass wall sconces, beautiful with their intricate designs. The heavy key slid into the lock with no resistance, the door swinging open to a spacious room.

It held two queen-sized beds with matching patchwork quilts draped over the foot of each of them. Small well-loved wooden nightstands, four of them, each with their own lamp and white doily underneath. Two doors were right beside each other, one leading to a small closet and the other a decent bathroom with a clawfoot tub that you were hoping you’d get time to take advantage of.

At the end of the room though was a bay window, climbing onto the cushion seat, you saw it overlooked the back of the property. A vast yard with little white tents, people casually mingling below, sipping cups of something while children darted around the maze in the dimming light of the day. Definitely something out of a Hallmark movie.

You’d gotten the text from Mina just after you plugged in your laptop. It was a reminder that the game started at 8 and everyone needed to be ready to go in about an hour to head for the campus. And that meant you had some time to go exploring.

It was easy enough to find your way to the back of the inn, through the dining room and a gorgeous library that nearly had you drooling, but you kept on track. It would seem you weren’t the only one eager to know what those tents were. Tetsu, Itsuka, Mina, Hanta, and Izuku were all huddled around.

“It’s fresh cider.” Itsuka hummed handing you a warm cup. “Absolutely delicious!” Tetsu was pulling her off to another tent where Mirio and Tamaki had taken up carving tools and were discussing different patterns they could pick from.

“This was a great find, Mina.” Izuku smiled, “Maybe Katsuki will actually want to stay for a couple hours tomorrow and not leave right at the crack of dawn.” Hanta snorted a laugh, “Yeah, yeah, wishful thinking.”

“Maybe I’ll just mention to him that his boyfriend wants to stick around… you know he’d do just about anything for you, babe.”

He blushed, bringing the cup back to his mouth, “Yeah, I know.”

“Do you guys play this team again in the season or is this the only time?” You asked and Hanta brought up the schedule on his phone.

“Actually we do play them again, just after the new year.”

You looked around and tried to imagine the place covered in holiday lights. Izuku seemed to have a similar idea. “I’ll run it by Kacchan and see if he’d want to use this place again, and if they aren’t already booked up around then.”

Breaking off from the group, you’d wandered into the maze, following twists and turns where they may lead you, finishing off your drink as you went. Admiring all the decorations that were thrown in.

“There you are!” You spun around to see Eijiro brushing off his coat.

“You did not just cut through the maze.”

“Ha, me?” His palm went to the back of his neck, “No, that’s childish! It wasn’t like I’ve been looking for you for twenty minutes and then saw your hoodie and couldn’t find the path so I just… made my own?”

All you could do was shake your head. “Why ya lookin’ for me?”

“I was wondering if you could braid my hair back again like you did for the last game? It held up really well.”

“Oh, sure! But, I need some bobby pins for your bangs and those are back in my room,” You checked your phone, “And we’re gonna have to be quick if we’re gonna make Katsuki’s leave time.” You took his hand and led him back out of the maze the proper way.

He sat on the floor in front of your bed, pins in hand and at the ready. Of course, the last time you’d done this it had been on a whim when you had two hours to kill before his game and now you had thirty minutes.

A French braid was the best option you’d learned last time after working on a Dutch braid only to find out it made his helmet fit funny. You ran your fingers through his thick hair, collecting it all back before sectioning it off into pieces.

Eijiro's shoulders weren’t ridged anymore when your hands were up in his hair and he no longer tensed when your nails scratched his scalp and a small moan escaped him.

A couple weeks ago, after their first loss of the season, Eijiro had plopped his head down in your lap at the end of the very long day and you felt him relax as your fingers played with his hair, his eyes drifting shut. He'd even fallen asleep until Katsuki's yelling startled him awake.

You messed up only once on the braid, “Pin please.” He passed one back. “And another.” You tilted his head to the other side and slid the other in place. “And we’re done, with seven minutes to spare. Go check it out.”

You pointed out where the bathroom was. “Looks awesome! I gotta grab my bag and then I’ll meet you at the car.” He hurried to pull his shoes back on, “Thanks, babe!”

Eijiro was halfway down the hall when he realized what he said and he turned back around to you, “Uh, sorry, been hanging around Mina too much I guess.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you at the car… babe.”

“You’re not gonna let me live this down are you?”

“Not a chance!”

>>><<<

Everyone managed to get to the campus ice complex at roughly the same time. There was about forty-five minutes until game time and Katsuki already knew where to find the locker rooms.

You walked in beside Eijiro. “Damn,” You mumbled and burrowed your hands further into your hoodie. “I think it’s colder here than at our rink back home.”

He tugged your sleeve, pulling you off to the side before following the rest of the guys. “Yeah, sometimes that’ll happen but,” He unzipped his bag and pulled out his home sweater, “Here, this should keep you nice and warm.”

“Eijiro…”

“��S fine!" We’re in away sweaters anyways!" That wasn't why you were hesitant though, "Plus, that thing's gonna be a hell of a lot warmer than any hoodie you have.” He waited until you pulled it over your hoodie. “Better?”

You nodded, “Yeah, yeah it is. Thanks, I’ll give it back to you after.”

He zipped the bag back up, “I’ll get it tonight, don’t worry about it.” Eijiro waved over his shoulder, running to catch up with the rest of the team.

You looked down at yourself in his sweater. It fell to your thighs and you were going to have to keep pulling the sleeves up all night but it was so warm and cozy. The logo stood out more on their home sweaters, the big UA, Eijiro’s little ‘A’ stitched on the left side, and you knew his name was embroidered across the back along with the number eight.

It even smelled like him. Woodsey, like cedar, filling your nostrils.

Other people started entering the complex, a few wearing your school's colors too and you took that as your cue to go and find the rest of your friends.

Mina spotted you and waved with a shit-eating grin on her face. “Everything’s still just platonic, right?”

“I was cold.” You reasoned but she wasn’t hearing it. If she had any lingering doubt that her childhood friend had a crush on you, they were all gone now.

#mha #bnha #mha reader #bnha reader #mha y/n #bnha y/n #kirishima #kirishima fluff #kirishima x reader #kirishima x y/n #hockeykiri #he has my heart #and that's okay

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selinakidreams · 3 years

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here’s a lil something for baku (and you) to enjoy on his birthday <3 all apart of the bakugo birthday bash hosted by the lovely @jodrawssmut @phasmwrites @katsukikitten @bakugotrashpanda @lady-bakuhoe @ramen-rambles ! !! thank you guys so much for letting me be apart of this <3

pairing: (established relationship) QUIRKLESS AU kiribaku x fem! reader

word count: 3k+

warnings: alcohol consumption but sober sex, oral (f receiving), mentions of throat fucking, mentions of spit roasting, lots of mentions of spit <3 (and exactly one spit into a mouth), very light degradation, praise

a/n: this is my first time writing with three characters kdjdkdk it’s way out of my comfort zone and I only had 6 days to write it,, but I did it!! trust me I wanted to write more but I actually wanted to make it to baku’s birthday so !! don’t be mad at the endiiiiiiinnnngggg <3

The jazz wafted throughout the empty bar; your silk dress falling from the edge of your seat. It has been a slow night for the bar. You leaned your head into your hand, elbow keeping you sturdy as you swirled the drink around it’s glass cup.

Your friend's party became a bit too feral for your taste, but you kept your word and stayed as long as you could for the sole purpose of seeing her smile, but then they showed up and you saw yourself out.

The dim lighting made your eyes droopy with no action to keep your brain going, so you take another swig of your drink before swiveling in your chair to face the other side of the bar.

Floor to ceiling windows greeted you, giving you the perfect overlook to the twinkling city lights below. It was incredible how your friend could afford a room in this hotel for her party.

You noticed a movement in the corner of your eye; someone had entered the bar.

You turn back to face all the expensive drinks displayed on the shelf, the perfect excuse to catch a quick glimpse at him. The contrast of his hair against everything else in the room almost made your eyes pop out of their sockets.

Platinum blonde hair tufted out like an explosion, a satin red shirt that danced with the warm light of the room, black slacks and from what you could tell, some expensive ass shoes. Too dressy just to be here for some drinks.

Wanting to see more but not willing to fully stare at the man, you signed and waited until it seemed like he got settled on the bar stool before saying, “Is it your party that’s on this floor? It seems like quite the... experience.”

Your voice came out smooth and velvety to bakugo’s ears, not that he would ever admit it. He scoffed before taking a second to look at the stranger who was daring to talk to him. His first thought settled in his mind and accepted it, almost prompting for silence- waiting to see if you would push to talk to him again.

From what you could tell, he was scanning you up and down. He opened his mouth to say something; his pink plush lips looking extremely inviting as they began to mouth something.

No sound came out for the next few seconds, showing he decided to keep his thoughts to himself. He closed his mouth and took out a phone from his pocket, the screen illuminated his face as he began typing something out.

With this newfound light, his features became even more alluring- which couldn't be said for most people. Perfect porcelain skin, his profile pointed and devilishly handsome.

He’s well aware that he still held your attention, so when he slid his phone back in his pocket, he responded to your previous question, “yea, that’s the one. I’d rather stick it out instead of hearing them complain about me not going to my own party for the rest of the week.”

By the end of his sentence, he had a glass of something amber in his hand that seemed to look a lot like whiskey. He didn’t spare you another glance but you could tell he expected to hear a response.

You hummed, slightly nodding your head, “The party I had to go to is upstairs and it’s… a lot. They're all just talking about expensive this and designer that and I couldn't listen to another word so I had to get out of there…” you trailed off at his silence. Noting that the conversation wasn’t going anywhere, you introduced yourself in hopes to continue interacting with him. You knew his type, and you knew in some way, he was going to surprise you.

“Bakugo Katsuki.” He said in turn.

You slowly nodded before posing another question.

“So Bakugo, not really a party goer?” You attempt to ask, only to get a huff in return.

“not one for small talk either, i see?” You add at the end.

Another few quiet moments go by before he responds

“If I was a party goer, I’d be at my own party wouldn’t I?” He quipped back and your eyebrows shot up as you raised your hands in defense.

“Well hey, I dunno ! For all I know you could have had a really rough night and this specific bar could be your saving grace. Could possibly use this night to drown your sorrows away behind a whole bottle of what… whiskey?” You say, ushering to his drink before turning to face your own, knowing he probably didn’t like being pegged as such.

“but you wouldn’t do that. You’re a strong man who knows what to do when things get bad, huh?” you continue, sprinkling praise to his dignity. He seemed like the type to prioritize that.

He didn’t do or say much in terms of a response but a small smile grew on your lips seeing how his body suddenly released a bit of the physical tension that was winding up.

You moved a few seats closer to him. If he didn’t like it, he hadn’t said anything.

“So-'' Interrupted before you could continue the line of questions, Bakugo surprised you by asking, “you think you’re better than your friends? Leaving them and comin’ here to drink alone?” his voice coming out gruff and low.

“No, not one bit. I was the one who planned the whole thing for my friend, it’s just unfortunate that she had to invite all those people who aren’t all that nice to her. I can’t stand them. I’ve told them off more than I can count, but they just brush me off. A group of bullies is one thing, but a group of people who pretends to be friends with you then talks behind your back is another.``

Bakugo was quiet, not by astonishment or anger; he seemed to be expressionless as he piped up, “fake people are some of the uglies nobodies out there.”

You turn to look at him before sipping your drink and moving a seat closer. This time Bakugo glanced your way but continued to stay silent.

“You ever beat someone up?” you ask, resting your chin on your palm, tilting your head towards him.

Your second surprise that night, he chuckled. It was soft, the complete opposite to the demeanor he'd been holding.

“Why? You want me to go in there and beat a few of those assholes up?” his eyes were relaxed by this point, no longer sharp and heavily guarded.

“Only because they don't believe I'm intimidating enough.”

“Maybe because you're not.”

You fake gasped, bringing your other hand up to your heart. “Excuse me sir but I'll have you know that I can be quite the fighter.”

“We’ll see about that.”

You hadn’t realized you got so close to Bakugo until you heard the footsteps nearing you both. When a handsome voice called out bakugo’s name, you slightly jumped. Putting as much space between the two of you as possible, you looked to the source of the voice.

Handsome would be an understatement.

With red bangs that framed his sharp toothy smile perfectly and the rest of his hair tied back in a messy ponytail, this man looked a bit taller than Bakugo with a much warmer aura... but radiated the same type of... manliness.

“Bakugo, I just got your text- Mina has been dragging me everywhere to make sure your party’s going well. Is this her?” the handsome man asked, a slight indistinguishable gleam flashes in his eye when he looks over to you.

“Yeah, ‘nd i wanna leave now.” he almost pouted before looking over to you.

“You comin’?”

Your gaze snapped between the two men, only slightly putting two and two together.

Red hair spoke up, “He probably didn't explain it well but I'm his boyfriend, Kirishima Eijiro!” he held out his hand cheerfully, listening to your introduction.

“Not to sound too forward or to make you uncomfortable... but do you wanna come home with us? He texted me earlier saying that there was this hottie in a silk dress and… well…” he trailed off licking his bottom lip as his wandering gaze slowly shifted hungrier, “he wasn't kidding.”

There was a lot happening at once but all that you were thinking was that these two hot men wanted you, and the happy buzz that was coursing through your system couldnt object the offer, so with a quick nod of your head, you were handed a water bottle, guided off of the stool, and into the back of the next taxi they could hail.

The ride was filled with wandering hands and mischievous looks. Kirishima was whispering naughty promises in Bakugo’s ear that you couldn't quite hear, while your attention focused on the big palm that was making its way to the most heated part of your body. The quick inhales that the blonde took went straight to your core, making you incredibly excited for what the night had to offer.

As soon as the door swung open, lips were on lips and clothes were coming off. The rush to get to the bedroom was heated and messy but once you all entered the room, there was an intense shift that even you couldn't predict.

Kirishima spoke first, “So what does my birthday boy want? Does he want to fuck or be fucked?”

With a suck at his teeth, Bakugo knew if he didn’t give an answer soon he’d be met with-

“Better hurry up handsome, or I might just choose for you…” Kirishima hummed, bright crimson eyes hopping on over to meet your gaze, “better yet…”

He was by your side in mere seconds. His huge figure towering over yours, you almost flinched when his bulky fingers grazed up your arm.

“What if you chose for him?” He purred in your ear loud enough so Bakugo’s ruby eyes found yours. Your name rolled off the red-haired man’s tongue like sweet honey, “go ahead, what do you think he would want more?”

Your gaze flickered between them, you couldn’t tell one or the other’s preferences but if they wanted to use you, they could.

“How about… Eijiro… you could fuck my throat and Katsuki… could fuck whatever hole he wants?” You ask, the question raising an octave out of uncertainty.

Kirishima raises an eyebrow towards the man of the hour, slightly amused and completely aroused.

Bakugo is already smirking,“Atta girl, knows exactly what to say.”

Kirishima starts to kiss your neck as Bakugo stands in front of you, occupying your lips for the first time that night.

With one arm wrapped around your waist, he seemed to have rubbed on his boyfriend's bulge before reaching for the zipper of your dress. In turn, the feeling of the Eijiro’s bulge humped your back.

Whether it was your dress hitting the floor or Katsuki’s tongue slipping in your mouth didn't matter, a sharp gasp escaped your lips, causing Kirishima to chuckle and whisper, “get on the bed, princess.” while Bakugo pulls away from you, a string of spit keeps you connected.

With your gaze lustly hazy, you dreamily make your way to the bed, but not without a little show. Before splaying yourself out on the mattress, you stretch out- almost in the child's pose of yoga except you add a deep arch in your back for the sole purpose of showing off your pretty seamless thong.

As you reposition yourself, you glance over to the side to find that both men are now only in restricting briefs, eyes glued to your figure, both palming themselves over their boxers.

Eyes half massed and back flat on the bed, you begin to pout, feeling almost bare without anyone’s hands on you.

As if on cue, they began to make their way over to you, looking oh so hungry.

You immediately sat up and swiped your tongue over your bottom lip, pulsating at the prospect of having two seemingly thick dicks at once… but they were still in their boxers. Why?

“Ya have to ask nicely in order to get a treat, you ungrateful slut.” Bakugo growled before taking your jaw in his hand, squishing your cheeks with his fingers.

“Better yet, beg.” he said with a coldness that heated your core and had your eyes going wide.

Whimpering when he let go, you kept your innocent doe eyes as two sets of starved eyes stared down at you.

“W-wanna get fucked, please. Wanna feel both of you everywhere…” you say as you reach both hands out to palm the silhouette of their bulges. “Please…?”

There was a “christ” that was muttered out before you were pushed back on the bed by Bakugo, then kirishima manhandled you so that your neck was supported by the edge of the bed, your head mostly hanging off.

Even in the midst of the binding tension, Kirishima didn't hesitate to instruct Bakugo to put a pillow under your hips, the blonde eagerly following through with the demand.

“How’dyou want Katsuki to prep you, baby? He’s skillful in every sense but he really enjoys using his mouth.”

The bed shifted and before you could string a thought together, you looked down and lost all ability to think. The sight in front of you was downright sinful. A smirk was pulling at the left corner of his lips as he sunk closer to your clothed pussy, his red gaze now a deep wicked crimson as he watched for your reaction.

You didn't have much time to analyze before a thick hand laced through your hair and ushered your view back to the red head’s now exposed cock. You gulped.

Not incredibly long, a moderate size but with a juicy girth, Kirishima’s cock had a thick vein trailing up his underside.

If you could make heart eyes, you're sure that you'd be doing them by now.

Focused on paying attention to his pretty pink weeping tip, you felt your panties being pushed to the side. As tempting as it was to look down, you kept your sights set on the task at hand. Licking and kissing his cock, mixing your saliva with his precum, you earned a guttural groan from the big man above you, encouraging you to do more, please him more- until a warm muscle was met with your sopping core, causing a high gasp of a vibration to hit Kirishima’s head.

Your mind stopped reeling for a second- it stopped doing anything to be frank. Your hips mindlessly thrust up in attempts to get more of Bakugo’s mouth. He chuckled against you in response.

Moans bounced off the walls the deeper you guys got with each arousing movement; slurps coming from your’s and Bakugo’s mouth were the loudest noises in the room- that was until you moved down to pay the much needed attention to Kirishima’s balls. He couldn't seem to take it when you began sucking and fondling, moaning about how full he looked. He let out an obscene whine that you couldn’t believe came from him but when Bakugo pulled his lips from around your clit, you followed the noise with a similar one.

Unlike Kirishima who had stayed still, you tried to push Bakugo’s face back down out of lack of patience. Somewhere along the lines, the dominating rolls have switched, but you couldn't really find it in yourself to trace back to when that happened.

“You really are a fighter, huh?” he chuckled out before adding, “quit whining shitty hair, you’ll get to fuck her throat once I’m done eating.”

And with that, he dove right back in, causing you to clench around nothing yet and arch your back to get impossibly closer. In turn, your gaze caught the big desperate pleading eyes looking down at you, nearly begging you to do something...

You were so dizzy with pleasure that you murmured a mindless, “I didn't forget about you Eijiro.”, before using your hands to guide his cockhead back into your mouth to coat it in your saliva then pulling off and spreading it down the rest of his length. He bit his lip and let out a cute “mmph!”, which went straight to your abused core. Wanting to hear more, you began to pump his shaft with your messy fist.

With everything going on, you didn’t realize how built up you were. At an astounding rate, your climax crashed over you, making you shriek against Kirishima's dick as you attempted to cage Bakugo’s head in with your thighs. What pushed you even further was the death grip Katsuki had on your thighs and the sinful sounds he was making while lapping away at your juices.

Your hands shot from Kirishima’s cock down to grip Bakugo’s hair, freeing your mouth to pant out breathy praises and a whiney “Katsuki!”.

“Fuck,” Bakugo groaned as he came up from your pelvis once you’ve relaxed, whipping your juices from off of his chin with the back of his hand.

“Kiri, c’mere, you gotta try this,” he said before pulling his boyfriend in for a kiss over your slumped body. Watching their lips meet and seeing Kirishima’s tongue slip into his lover’s mouth sent a dull throb to your core, even moreso when Kirishima sighed into the kiss while his cock twitched upwards, close to your face.

When they pulled away, Bakugo gave one more little peck to Kirishima before looking down at you with a mischievous grin. You mentally gather yourself and sit up, already ready to be told what to do next.

“Open up, sweet cheeks.”

You did as you were told with your tongue out on display, unintentionally closing your eyes as a sweet little “aaah” came out on instinct.

The spit hit your tongue dead on and you had to refrain from automatically swallowing.

A low whisper about how good you were to Katsuki pulled him out of his daze, his eyes darting away from the new wetness on your tongue.

“Swallow, slut.” and so you did.

“You're right Kiri, she is such a good girl… Are you ready to get fucked stupid as your prize?” was the last thing you remember before both of them did exactly that.

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ink-and-flame · 3 years

Text

Kinktober Day 1: Intensity Shattered

Kinktober Day 1 Prompts: Throat Fucking ~ Pain (mild) ~ Suspension (horizontal)

Fandom: Original

Tags: exophilia, angst & porn, throat fucking, pain, bondage, suspension, scissoring (f/f), hurt/no comfort, hurt/comfort (kind of a mixed bag here between scenes)

Pairing: Orc(m)/Human(f), ?M/HumanF, HumanM/HumanF, HumanF/HumanF | Darnok/Lia, Lucien/Ember, Zane/Lia, Ember/Lia

[Author’s Note: It has been a long time since I have written anything and I felt the need to finish out this portion of the story. While this was intended to be part of kinktober 2020, I never got to it in time. This is where things start to go a bit pearshapped, though not nearly as dark as I had originally intended, things will get worse before they get better. I revamped the whole last few parts of this because the original prompts from 2020 were too dark and so this is not the way I had originally outlined the last few parts of this story to go.]

It had been some time before Lia could go back to the club. The last scene, though intensely hot, had almost landed her in the hospital. The medics had to be called when she didn’t regain consciousness after a few moments and her throat was in a sorry state. It was recommended, strongly, that she take some time off to heal. The owners did not want to be held responsible if further injury occurred and of course she understood.

Darnok had felt terrible, both he and Gorvaal were nothing but apologetic about the situation. It was something unexpected, and Lia couldn’t be mad. She had plenty of experience and practice and she wasn’t sure what made this time different, but it was and she needed time to heal. She reassured both orcs that she was fine and not angry, as best she could without a fully functioning voice, and she could see the guilt in Dar’s eyes when they were finally alone.

As much as Lia had done her best to reassure him, something inside of her twisted and pinched a bit. She kept thinking that she had forgotten something important and for some reason Gorvaal had made that feeling stronger. It nagged at her and kept popping up in the back of her head any moment she had down time.

With forced time off from the club, Lia couldn’t see Dar. They only ever met at the club, and only used the hotel afterwards. If he was going to the club without her, she had no way of really knowing unless she asked Ember, something that felt a little too close to spying if she thought about that hard enough. That didn’t make it hurt any less, and had Lia in a bit of a funk while she healed.

The more time that passed the more that nagging feeling got stronger until she was on her computer and going through her history. She had found some shoes and a nice bag she wanted to get but for the life of her could not remember where she saw them. As she dug around in her history, Lia found the searches for Taledras. Against her better judgement, Lia reopened them and did a little more searching. The more information she found the more her heart sank. The woman from before was Ariana Taledras, the youngest daughter of a wealthy and powerful fae family. There was a full page article about her engagement party, how it was the event of the year, not to be missed.

Darnok was engaged.

Tears streaked paths down Lia’s cheeks. She had always know, inside, that something was off. She just didn’t know what it was. Now she did. There was no way to know how long Dar had been with this woman, but their engagement was going to be formalized in less than a year. Lia felt gutted and was thankful for the time away from both the club and work. She was in no condition to do much more than cry and desperately try to comfort herself.

Crawling into bed Lia sobbed into her pillow, deep heaving sobs, as her heart fully broke. There was a sharpness to the pain she felt as her sobs shook her body. She screamed into the pillow until her voice completely gave out. All the healing, undone in a moment. The edges of her vision had pinpricks of light, spots of dark, as she cried hard enough to give herself a pounding headache. At some point she simply exhausted herself to the point of sleep.

Lia was wrapped in a blanket on her couch when there was a knock on the door. She ignored it, as she had been ignoring everything for days. However, this knock was insistent and not going away. With a groan Lia got up and went to her door, opening it and seeing Ember standing there looking quite worried.

“Man you look like shit!”

“Thank you, I try” Lia quipped as she gestured for Ember to come in. She knew her friend well enough to know that the other woman was not going to leave.

“So, what happened. I heard you got hurt, but that was a while ago, and you haven’t been answering your phone, or texts, or DMs, or even email. Like, nothing.” Ember sat on the couch next to Lia looking at her friend with concern.

“He’s engaged.”

Ember just looked confused. “What? Who again?”

“Darnok. He is engaged. I saw the article about the party they are throwing next year to make it official, or I don’t know, it's some next step thing. I couldn’t finish the article.” Lia was crying again. This time silently.

“Shit, fuck, well damn thats. Fuck that is really shitty. Was this recent and he just hasn’t had a chance to tell you?” Ember already knew the answer but hoped she was wrong.

“I suspected, for a while that he was in a relationship. There were things that made it not seem like it on occasion, and other times, I dunno, it just always was right there on the edge of my mind. Then at that event he ran, Gorvaal mentioned something about a Taledras. I looked it up, it isn’t a what like I originally thought, but a who. She is a rich, powerful, beautiful fae.” Lia hiccuped. “Honestly everything makes sense now. Why he never wanted to collar me, why he sometimes kept me at arms length. I mean she is beyond gorgeous, everything I could never be, I just can’t understand what he wanted with me. That is the only confusing part.”

Ember sighed and ran her hand through her hair as she tried to think logically and not immediately go to the club and make one hell of a scene. “Honestly, this isn’t uncommon among rich couples, from what I hear anyway. Often they will have side pieces and there are rules, but I always thought that was just in movies and books. I didn’t think it was something that actually happened.” Ember scooted closer putting an arm around Lia. “Did you talk to him yet?”

“No. What is the point? What would I even say?” Lia leaned into Ember and cried while her friend just held her in silence. What could any of them say really?

It had been almost two months since Lia was last in the club. She had been healed enough for a while, but emotionally she was still in shambles. Moping around wasn’t helping and Ember had practically moved in just so she could make sure that Lia was taking care of herself and not doing anything dumb.

It was nice to know that Ember was a true friend and she had done a lot to help Lia begin to feel normal again. Normal enough to start talking about the club and how to handle seeing Darnok again. Lia still wasn’t sure that she could do it, but Ember promised that Lucien and Zane would be there to help as well. She even suggested doing scenes with one or both of the men, to try and distance herself from Darnok. There was a concern that this experience would turn her away from the lifestyle for good and Ember didn’t want that, neither did Lia. Kink had become an integral part of her life and she wasn’t ready to give it up. Even if it took her time to find her place of comfort again.

The plan was to go to the club this weekend, Ember sticking with her, and seeing if Lucien or Zane would be willing to do a scene. If nothing else, Ember, being a switch, offered to do a scene with Lia just to help her ease back into things. Something that made Lia blush heavily and they had to have a bit of a conversation on if that sort of thing could interfere with their friendship. Something neither woman wanted, so it would be approached with caution should that be the situation they landed on.

Luckily both Lucian and Zane were available for a scene so neither of the women had to worry about compromising their friendship just yet. Zane was curious why Lia had come to them first, but didn’t question it. While Lucien just watched Lia with the strangest expression. He was the one that suggested they all four use one of the rooms and do a group scene. Something exciting, but they would let Lia choose the intensity, since she had been gone for a while.

“You know, I remember that party where I was art and in a cage. There was something so relaxing about it, I went deep into sub space, is there anything like that we can do?” Lia looked between her friends hopefully.

“There are a few options. If you are comfortable with bondage we could do some rope suspension. How have you healed by the way?” Lucien asked as he looked Lia up and down his eyes flashing between a range of colors.

“Fully, I just stayed gone a little longer to be safe. That and work.” Lia knew that was a half truth at best, but she wanted to enjoy the night.

“Suspension sounds fun” Ember said with a smile. “And we don’t have to go overboard with the bondage part so we can do some light suspension, or even use swings instead of rope.”

With the activity decided Lucian and Zane gathered up the equipment they would need. The room had ceiling braces with loops hanging down. Something they could easily tie rope to. Though Lucien suggested using a few swing pieces to help hold the girls up, so all their weight wasn’t on the ropes. He had an idea for how he wanted them both bound and it would take a bit of work to get them into that position and bound together.

Using silk rope, Lucien began binding Lia, while Zane bound Ember. Both girls were bound together, in a scissoring position. It took a bit of conversation to make sure everyone was comfortable with it, but as this was a group scene and not one on one, Lia was more comfortable with the idea of sharing pleasure with Ember. Plus, she was really curious how it might feel and she was more than a little excited to find out.

With their crotches pushed together, their thighs bound to each other, and their arms bound behind their backs. Lia realized she was almost completely immobile, but she wasn’t afraid. The men used the swing equipment to help get them both suspended in the air, something that didn’t seem easy, but Lucien was deceptively, inhumanly, even otherworldly strong.

Once in position Lia wiggled a bit to test her range of motion and found that it felt really good to wiggle like that, and the quiet sound that Ember made was a clue that she also felt good. Giggling a bit, Lia looked between Zane and Lucien.

“Ok, we are all tied up, now what?”

“With your permission of course, I think I know what both Zane and I would like, but I will let you choose who you are with Lia. There will be no hard feelings no matter the choice.” Lucien smiled and began stripping off his clothing.

Zane followed suit and both men were bare before Lia and Ember. Lia had seen Lucien before and liked his body. He was strong, but a bit more Lithe and tall, like a dancer or gymnast, though he still had a good bit of muscle and definition. Zane on the other hand was more bulky, muscular, a bit soft around the middle, but not much. He was also incredibly hairy. Lia had never seen that much body hair on a man before and she kind of liked it.

“I think I will choose Zane this time, since we have already had some time together with Lucien.” Lia winked at him with a smile.

“Wow really? I didn’t know you two hooked up. Man, I am always the last to the party huh?” Zane walked over to Lia pushing his long hair back from his face and looking down at her.

Lia realized, rather suddenly, that they were suspended at nearly the perfect height for their mouths to be used easily. She smirked a bit and looked up at Zane. He was handsome. Almost inhumanly tall, but quite handsome. He had such rugged features, and despite all their playful flirting it had never gone anywhere in the past. Though her attraction to him was quite real, she had always just been too caught up in Darnok to really look that intensely at Zane.

She found herself blushing when he gently stroked her face with his large hands, she could feel the callouses and honestly didn’t mind them. She wished her hands were not bound, the hair on his body was so inviting, she wanted to touch him, to run her fingers through it. The hair on his head was a few shades darker than the hair on his body, the contrast interesting to her. Lia looked up, noticing he was hard as he had been watching her study him. When her eyes met his, for a moment she swore they were yellow, but it must have been a trick of the light.

“If you are sure, I heard what injured you before, and I am not really all that big into hurting my partners like that.” Zane was focused on Lia taking in her scent, reading her body, looking for any hint that she wasn’t sure or was hesitant about any of it.

“I promise I am ok.” She tried to look down at Lucien but was struggling. “Lucien, tell him I am ok.”

Lucien laughed, it was a dark smokey laugh with a strange echo to it. “I assure you Zane, I would have sent her right home if she wasn’t fully healed. I can see how eager she is. You need to relax and let yourself enjoy it.” Lucien paused, blinked in a way that from a certain angle it looked like he had two sets of eyelids, and then spoke again. “Since when are you the uptight one?”

At that Zane started laughing, which caused Ember to have the giggles, which gave Lia the giggles as well as Lucien just looked at them all.

“Really now, this is supposed to be a serious scene. How am I supposed to exude the energy of a stoic dominant if you are all having giggle fits!”

That statement only made them laugh harder, something that had Lucien smiling slyly. He knew the heartbreak that Lia was feeling. He knew this was a distraction, and one she desperately needed. He also knew that Zane would be more gentle with her than anyone else could be. Despite never wanting to harm her, Lia was an enigma and Lucien could see himself going a little too far with her.

“Are you all quite finished?”

The giggling died down and Zane nodded, followed by Lia and Ember, the latter of which opened her mouth for Lucien, trying to at least feign some semblance of obedience. The offer of which was taken with a slow teasing stroke of Lucien's cock against Ember's lips before he slid into her mouth with a groan. His focus now on the woman bound and trusting him.

Zane paused, watching them for a moment before looking down at Lia and stroking her face. “You have my permission to bite me if I get too rough or go too far. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Lia nodded and leaned her head up a bit to kiss the tip of Zane’s cock, giving it a little flick with her tongue, smiling as he visibly shuddered and made a small sound that she wanted to hear more of. No more words were needed as he stepped closer and pushed his cock slowly into her waiting open mouth. He was more gentle than Lia had expected, more gentle than she had really experienced in the past, she was curious how he had so much control.

The scene started out slow, both men being careful with their partners, making sure not to thrust too hard or push too deep. Though control was beginning to slip for both men as the scene became more intense. With each thrust Ember and Lia were pushed together, their slick folds and clits rubbing against each other, increasing their pleasure.

Lia had no idea that rubbing against another woman could feel this good and she had to think about that later when she could actually rub her brain cells together since she was enjoying this far more than she thought she would. Zane’s cock was thick, but not as thick as Darnoks. It was a good size, and despite his height, he still wasn’t orc big. Something Lia was thankful for. The size of him, the feel of him, the curve, she had to admit it, Zane had a really nice cock and she was somewhat eager to feel it elsewhere. Something that sent a sting of guilt through her, and she pushed it away as quickly as it showed up.

It was easy to tell once Zane was starting to get closer to the edge. His thrusts became rougher, his control clearly slipping. She could feel his hands gripping her breasts, teasing her nipples, though his nails felt weirdly longer, but that was probably her imagination. She was enjoying it too much. The harder he thrust the more it pushed her into Ember and the more friction she was able to feel. It was clear both men were trying to time their thrusts to push the girls together harder. Lia could hear Ember moaning around Lucien’s cock, and it was all just turning her on more.

Somehow it felt like Zane’s cock was getting bigger and her throat hurt a bit, but she wasn’t going to stop now. Lia was close herself and she wanted this. Zane was grunting, making little growling noises as he thrust deeper and harder into her throat. She could feel him swelling, getting closer and closer to release, something she was also getting closer to.

Soon Lia felt that euphoria as her core clenched a bit. She was going to cum soon, and the burning pain in her throat was ignored as she felt Zane push harder into her throat, his grip on her painfully tight, tight enough to leave bruises. All of that was forgotten as she arched and came against Ember, feeling an intense throbbing release as she was pushed against the other woman. She wasn’t sure but she thought she felt Ember cumming too. That thought was pushed aside as Zane came with a loud sound, that was somewhat like a howl, but Lia was pretty sure that was her imagination as her throat and mouth were filled with a hot flood of cum.

When Zane pulled out Lia coughed a bit to clear her airways, but otherwise felt mostly fine. She had cum all over her face so her eyes were closed, but soon she could feel a wet cloth cleaning her up.

“Sorry, I am so sorry Lia, I lost control at the end there. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Why didn’t you bite me?”

It took Lia a bit to answer, she smiled up at Zane, her voice a little hoarse. “Because I like it, and it didn’t hurt that much, I promise.”

Both men took their time to carefully get the women down. Moving them over to the bed, rubbing their limbs to help them get feeling back. The four of them cuddled for a bit, enjoying the afterglow and each other's company. Aftercare was important, even as a group, and the women were doted on and given anything they wanted or needed.

Lia found she liked how it felt to be snuggled against Zane, he was really warm and the hair on his body felt nice against her skin. Though that strange guilty feeling was back and she did her best to push it away, this moment was not going to be ruined because she was an emotional and mental mess.

Soon it was time to get dressed and vacate the room. They headed back to the VIP area and talked for a while, sharing drinks and laughing. Soon it was late and Lia needed to go. Ember hugged her indicating to call her when Lia got there so she could be sure she got home safe. Kissing Zane on the cheek Lia headed to the exit.

What she hadn’t expected, and least wanted, was exactly what happened. She ran into Darnok who seemed surprised to see her. He looked at her curiously.

“I thought I saw you before, coming out from the back rooms, but I wasn’t sure.”

“That was me, I was with Lucien, Zane, and Ember, we did a group scene. It was intense but a lot of fun.” Lia was trying to smile, trying to be normal, trying to hold it together.

Darnok just looked at her, a bit confused. “I wasn’t sure when you would come back. I know you had been injured, but you hadn’t been responding. I didn’t know you were coming back to the club.”

Lia took a breath and looked Darnok in the eyes. “Well.” She paused, praying for strength. “I didn’t know you were engaged. I guess there is a lot we both just don’t know. Goodbye Darnok.” With that Lia pushed past him and headed for the door. She could already feel the tears, and by the time she made it outside she was running to her car fighting back sobs.

Lia didn’t want him to stop her. She didn’t want to hear his excuses. Pulling out of the parking lot she sped off, hoping that she drove fast enough that he could not follow her. Trying to see through the tears, Lia’s heart broke all over again.

#Darnok/Lia #Auchendale Archives #orc boyfriend

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amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines · 4 years

Text

Sweet Pea//i wish it wasn't so damn hard to leave

Request: Hi! Big fan of your work! Would you be able to write a Serpent fic based off of the Senorita video? I’m obsessed with it

hey! I hope you like this!!! and i’m sorry its so late. but hey, its hopefully a nice surprise! have a great day!!

The hot summer air hits you as soon as you walk through the out the front doors of Pop’s. You sigh and rearrange the bag on your shoulder, silently dreading the long walk home.

You moved to Riverdale three weeks ago, and they’ve been the weirdest three weeks of your life. They’ve also been the hardest three weeks of you life. Moving to a small town is like trying to infiltrate Area 51, and not in the fun way.

Everybody knows each other, everybody talks and everybody gossips. Plus to make matters worse, you’re still not entirely sure where everything is.

Street names change, certain houses end up being some place other than you thought they were, and old buildings make weird noises in the night...old buildings that you have to walk past after your shift. Based on the stories you’ve heard though, you wouldn’t be surprised if they did.

A few good things have come out of moving here though. You’re finally able to live alone, the rent here is surprisingly cheap (being the murder town and all), although the more you think of it the more you think it might not be a good idea to live by yourself. You’ve made a ton of new friends, one of which gave you a job in her diner (go veronica!). And lastly and most recently, you met him.

Sweet Pea

Even the thought of him makes you smile.

You’d met him last night at Veronica’s club (it’s crazy how many business’ under 20 year olds can own here) last night. She had invited you to come out and celebrate making it to three weeks, and you’d very happily accepted, needing an excuse to get dressed up and get out. It felt like you’d done nothing but live in either your waitressing uniform or your pajama’s for three weeks straight and so it was nice to feel normal.

Once you’d got there, Veronica introduced you to a few people you had yet to meet, before you all started drinking. Betty had gone to the bar to get drinks for everyone, when you felt a tap on your shoulder. You’d turned around, expecting her to be stood with a tray full of drinks balanced in her hands, but instead you were met with a chest, taking you very much by surprise.

Your eyes travelled upwards, fighting against the darkness of the club until you met his gaze. He was already look at you, his lips parted and eyes hooded and a small gasp left your lips.

All night, the two of you had been stealing small glances at each other. He was sat with who you assumed were his friends, a couple of them playing guitar despite the loud music playing through the speakers while the rest talked.

As soon as you saw him you felt your pulse quicken and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

And so when he was stood in front of you, you felt all of those things and more. A small shiver ran up your spine as he held his hand out towards you. No words were exchanged, he just stood and waited. You quickly glanced at your friends, all of which were smiling knowingly at you, before you carefully placed your hand in his.

He pulled you into him, your back against his chest and the motion made you breathless. Your faces inches apart, the faintest hint of alcohol on his breath that made you feel dizzy. You swayed together, completely caught up in the moment before he twirled you back out. The bass from the song playing and the heavy beating of your heart swirled together until you could feel both of them pounding in your chest.

Pulling you back towards him, your hands lay flat against his chest while he held you close, the two of you getting lost in your own world. The rest of the club fell away behind you, it was just you and him and the slow beat of the music.

But then you started to panic.

Not because of who he was.

You knew he was a serpent, heard the stories from your friends about the war between the Northside and Southside. But maybe it should have been. The leather jacket with the gang sign proudly stitched onto the back, the fading bruise framing his eye and the spilt lip should have all been warning signs.

But the thing that made you panic was yourself. You don’t even know why you felt it.

You’d been waiting all night for him to talk to you, but now that it what happening you felt the anxiety rise in your chest, and before you knew it you were running out of the front doors of Pop’s and into the warm summer night.

You’d been quietly hating yourself ever since that night.

You didn’t even know his name until Veronica had teased you about the interaction the next day at work. However when she saw how upset you were about it, she’d told you not to worry and that she was sure he’d come back and you’d get another chance.

You didn’t believe her, not at all. Nobody in their right mind would come back for a girl who ran away from them.

But the universe is full of surprises.

And so is he apparently.

“Are you stalking me?” You stop in the middle of the parking lot, your eyebrows raised as you wait for a response.

Your question hangs in the air for a few seconds, and you worry that you were just seeing things. That the person you thought you saw stood outside was just in your imagination, that you were just seeing what you wanted to.

But then you hear the crunch of gravel followed by quick footsteps and you thank the universe for the second chance.

“Wha-no. Why would you think that?” He stutters, shoving his hands in his pockets. You turn around to face him and a shy smile takes over your features as you make eye contact with him.

“Because you’re loitering outside the place I work.” You shrug. “And Veronica told me that she say you hanging around inside for a few hours.”

“Okay, that I am doing. But I’m not stalking you.” He says, a bashful smile twitching at the corners of his lips.

“So what are you doing then?”

“I just wanted to know why you ran away yesterday.” He replies and your face falls. You gaze drops to the dusty ground beneath you and you kick a few stones around to try and distract yourself. “Sorry.” He mumbles. “I was just worried if it was something I did.”

“What, no.” You reply and look at him quickly.

He looks sad and a frown takes over your face at the sight.

“Are you sure. Because I’m sorry if I did do something. The last thing I wanted you to do was run away.”

“I didn’t run.” You mumble and he raises an eyebrow at you. “It was more of a quick walk.”

“Okay.” He chuckles. “Why did you quickly walk away from me then?”

“I needed to pee.” You shrug, not even trying to make your lie believable.

“You pee outside?”

“...yes.” You say, deciding to stick by what you said.

“Okayyy.” He replies, not really sure of what to say and you mentally curse yourself. “You’re cute you know, even if you do go to the bathroom in weird places.”

“Thanks.” You giggle, and brush a piece of hair out of your face.

“Would you like to go for a ride?”

“Excuse me?” You blink and his eyes widen.

“Not like that, I meant, I-er. I have a bike.” He says, pointing to the black bike parked right in the corner of the parking lot. “Would you like to go for a ride.”

“Should I really be going off with a stranger thats been stalking me?” You ask.

“I wasn’t stalking you.” He rolls his eyes. “Plus, everybody knows it’s almost impossible to kidnap someone with a motorbike. There’s no boot and it’s very easy to jump off a moving bike. I wouldn’t recommend it though.” He rambles making you laugh.

He looks away embarrassed once he’s finished talking, but it makes your chest feel fuzzy and warm and you desperately want him to continue talking, even if it is about kidnapping.

“Okay.” You agree and he looks at you surprised. “Where are we going?”

“I dunno.” He shrugs, the two of you falling into step with each other as you make the short walk to his bike. “Where do you want to do?”

“I honestly don’t know. Where are the best places in Riverdale?”

“Greendale.” He replies making you snort.

The sound makes your cheeks heat up and you quickly look away, but you feel him smiling at you making you relax a little.

“You’re new here right?” He asks and you nod. “Why don’t I give you a tour of the town. Hopefully I can make it seem exciting.”

“I’m sure you will.” You reply and put the helmet he’s given you on. He reaches over and helps you fasten it, tapping your head a few times once he’s finished and the two of you look away awkwardly.

“...sorry.” He mumbles. “Can we forget I did that?”

“Of course.”

“Can we forget that I ran away?”

“I thought you quickly walked.” He replies making you huff.

“Shut up.” You mumble. “Can we?”

“Yeah.” He nods. “Now get on. The sun’s gonna come up soon if you keep standing there.”

What started as bike ride around the town, ended in the two of you getting a hotel room together and not leaving until early afternoon.

You lean against the wardrobe doors, memories of the previous nights and the moments leading up to it flicker in your mind.

The wind in your hair as you drove around the sleepy streets, the feeling of your arms around his chest when he sped up. Dancing in small bit of sand by Sweetwater River and promising yourself never to run away from him ever again. To be honest, you don’t even think you could.

He’s staring at you through hooded eyes, his lips swollen and red and you feel your knees buckle. Slowly you make your towards him and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you tight to him. He flips you around as you fall, your back landing on the soft bedding and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him towards you and kissing him deeply.

You can feel yourself falling for him with each kiss. The feeling of his hands running through your hair, how his fingers graze your skin lightly and the softness of his kisses.

You’re hooked and there’s no turning back.

You didn’t even know Riverdale had motels. But they do, and they’re the definition of Riverdale. They look inviting from the outside but once you step through the doors, they’re dim and dingy. The only plus point are the people inside, and you’re very happy to be locked in with Sweet Pea.

You spend practically the whole day tangled up in bed sheets, and before you know it, it’s time for your late shift at Pop’s.

So with a heavy heart and a promise of spending another night together, you part ways.

“Thanks for dropping me off.” You smile and smooth your hair down.

You didn’t have time to go back home to change, and so suddenly you feel self conscious, your uniform has the same grease stain on it from your last shift and you know for a fact Veronica is going to notice and not let it go.

“No worries.” He laughs. “You look great.” He catches your hands, stopping you from messing with your hair again and presses light kisses to them.

“You’re a terrible liar.” You roll your eyes, letting him tug you forward. “Will you be stalking me again?” You wonder, a soft smile tugging at your lips and he rolls his eyes at you playfully.

“Maybe.” He shrugs and leans down, capturing your lips in a kiss that makes your heart race.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“I really hope you do.” He whispers, his lips grazing your ear and a shiver travels down your spine.

----

“Maybe, my ass!” You huff, throwing your hands up in frustration.

It’s been a week since you saw him, and he’s definitely been avoiding you.

“It’s only been a week.” Veronica asks.

The two of you are on the late shift tonight, along with a few other servers and Veronica made sure your break was together so you could hang out, although now, you’re pretty sure she’s regretting that because it’s been ten minutes and the only thing you’ve talked about is him.

“But nobodies seen him. Not you, not his friends, not anybody. And the other day I heard Toni and Fangs talking about his skipping town. They were trying to figure out why he’d done it.”

“Oh.”

“You know, there’s a reason we didn’t go back to his place. It’s so I didn’t find out his address so I couldn’t hunt him down. That bastard.” You curse, and flop back in the seat.

“You never know.” She says, placing a comforting hand on your leg. “He might surprise you.”

“I very much doubt it.” You sigh. “Why are all men the same. They get they want and then as soon as they do they go.”

“I dunno.”

“Or maybe he isn’t avoiding me.”

“What?”

“Maybe he’s hurt somewhere. He does go really fast on that bike. Oh, god. I’ve called a dead man a bastard. I’m the worst. Why did you let me do that?”

“Wha- You know what, never mind.” She shakes her head. “He’s not dead Y/n. And I’m sure he’s got a good reason for doing whatever he’s doing.”

“Like?” You sigh and look at her.

“I dunno.” She shrugs. “Why don’t you ask him yourself.” She says and nods behind you.

You frown and follow her gaze, before your eyes meet his.

“I’ll leave you guys to it.” She says and stands up, quickly making her way back into the diner.

“Hi.” He’s the first to talk as he cautiously sits beside you.

“Hey.” You reply, not bothering to look at him.

It’s silent for a while.

There’s quiet chatter from the diner that travels through the air, but apart from that its just an awkward silence.

“Sorry I ran away.” He breaks it, daring a glance at you. “I guess it’s something we’re both quite good at.” He adds, and you send him a look.

“I don’t run. I quickly walk.” You remind him and he lets out a shaky laugh. “I am glad you’re back though.” You add.

“Do you wanna go for a ride? And I’ll explain everything at the hotel.”

“I’m at work.” You laugh and he frowns. “And I’m definitely not that easy.”

“You were the other night.” He mumbles and you let out an offended gasp, slapping his arm lightly.

“Ass.” You huff and cross your arms over your chest.

“Y/n? I hate to be this person, but I kinda need you in here.” Veronica interrupts, sending you an apologetic smile.

“Sorry.” You shrug, smiling sadly at Sweet Pea.

“Don’t worry.” He smiles, shifting against on the wooden seat. “I’ll wait for you.”

#sweet pea #sweet pea imagine #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea x you #sweet pea x y/n #riverdale #riverdale imagine

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bangtae-sohotddaeng · 3 years

Text

we’ll be counting stars | k.th. | 2

(^ gif cred: ON THE VOYAGE | pinterest)

pairing: idol!Taehyung x publisher!Reader

rating: nc-17 (for language and themes)

summary: You’d sworn off love and relationships forever. You were here to do your job - work with the biggest boyband of the world. Not forge friendships and...and whatever it was that you and Taehyung were building up with these sneaky glances. It was, to be very fair, your Chief Editor’s fault that you’d landed in this mess. Maybe you should quit your job? Maybe you should quit life -

Oh, he was staring again, and did he freaking lick his lips?

warnings: swearing (reader’s got a potty mouth) + this is set like 5 years in the future + reader has emotional issues, she's a relationship phobe + mentions of weed

genre: so much ANGST ugh + fluff + comedy + some crack

words: 3.3 k

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gimme feedback, much much appreciated!

“We’re all clear on the schedule, but I’ll repeat it for your sake,” you announced.

Your team was huddled around you, right outside the airport, with their luggage in their hands. You’d landed in Seoul less than an hour ago.

“So, right now, we’re going to take a cab to the hotel our company has booked us. We’ll rest, let our bodies recharge and adjust—because we left on Friday morning and reached Saturday morning in thirteen hours.” You grimaced. “Dunno about you, but my mind needs to adjust.”

You received collective groans of agreement in response.

“Great, you feel me. So we all do that first. And then we’ll collect in the lobby after lunch, at around 4 pm? I’ll have a word with BTS’ manager, and he’ll arrange for our commute. I’ll update you of the exact time, then. For now, let’s just go grab naps.”

You all hailed three taxis to the hotel, with Sana grabbing you by the elbow to make you sit with her. You did so, with a frown. She looked nervous.

“Y/N!” she almost wailed as soon as you’d shut the door.

The driver looked at her in alarm. You winced in embarrassment, and apologized in Korean. He started the car without a word.

“Sana, compose yourself. What is the matter with you?” you scolded the girl.

“Y/N, how am I gonna face him? I might freeze up at sight! And—and what if my brain starts to think up scenarios from… oh God, you won’t believe the kind of fanfiction-stuff I’ve read about him!”

Your ears started to warm up. You had some idea. It had been a while, sure, but you could still vividly remember the kind of fanfictions you yourself had indulged in—

Wait a second. This girl was gonna make you nervous, too!

“Okay, Sana, enough. It doesn’t matter how cute you find Yoongi, he’s our client. We’re gonna have to be formal with him. At all costs. We mess it up, we lose our jobs. You get that? So, think about your husband, try to be the professional woman he married, and for God's sake, stop making me overthink shit!”

Sana shut up, then, but her eyes still looked worried. "How do you do it, Y/N?"

You frowned. "How do I do what? I don't have a fucking crush on Yoongi!"

She gave a small laugh, looking slightly more at ease. "Exactly! How?"

You blinked, confused.

"I mean," she elaborated, "not just him. In general. How do you manage to not get dragged down by feelings and stuff?"

"I kinda had to." You snorted. "People are like leeches, Sana. You only stand a chance for a good, peaceful life if you avoid getting too close to them. Get caught up in feelings, get your soul sucked out of you. Get crushed under expectations, live the rest of your life trying to fulfil them. Die on the inside before your body perishes.” You shrugged. “A pretty horrid way to die, if you ask me.”

Sana gave a huff of laughter. “Who hurt you, Y/N?”

You froze. Sana probably said that rhetorically, but it still hit you hard enough.

It wasn’t the question of who hurt you, but actually, who you had hurt.

You shut your eyes for a few extended seconds, willing yourself to not think of the past. You succeeded for the most parts, too. But then Sana nudged your shoulder.

“Hey, I didn’t—I didn’t mean to upset…you…” She trailed off with a worried look on her face when you shot her a glare. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not upset,” you grumbled, turning to look out of the window. “I’m just done with my quota of personal-unnecessary-unneeded-interactions with people, for the day.”

You heard Sana sigh. Mentally, you sighed, too.

You all found the two vans a bit excessive. There were eight seats in one—there were seven of you. But Manager Woo insisted that the boys actually used three of these to commute, so even this was a bit miserly of the management.

Rich people problems.

You shook your head with a small smile. “It’s all okay,” you said to the Manager in Korean, following his lead into the BigHit offices where you were to meet your clients for the first time, ever.

You chanced a discreet glance at Sana. Maybe your frustrated, shitty pep-talk in the taxi had actually worked, because she looked a lot more held together than she had ever since you dragged her onboards with this project.

“This way,” Manager Woo instructed you, gesturing towards a lift. “The security personnel will lead you to the second floor, and into the meeting room. I will join you in a while.”

You bowed and your team followed, and then you all stepped into the elevator that looked big enough to hold the meeting within itself. Two security guards, all suited up with a tie and fitted with earpieces in a stereotypical bodyguard look, followed you in.

You exhaled, rubbing your hands together. “Guys,” you addressed your team in English. “You all have the detailed itinerary on your tabs, right?” At their nods, you pulled your own iPad out. “Good. Keep it on you when I talk about it with them.”

“Y/N,” Simon called out to you.

You looked at the fidgety guy with raised eyebrows.

“Are we gonna stick with the choices…” He trailed off when your eyes narrowed.

“We’ve spent more than seventy-two hours researching, Simon. Please stop with this.”

Simon gulped, but shut up.

The elevators opened up, just then. One of the guards stepped out, and gestured towards the glass doors on the right. “That is the meeting room,” he said in Korean.

You all stepped out, elegantly, and you turned to bow to the two guards. “Thank you,” you said in Korean

They bowed in return, looking slightly flustered, and stepped back into the lift. You turned to face the meeting room, inhaled deeply, and then exhaled.

“Come on, guys. Showtime.”

You led your team as they walked behind you in pairs. Once you got to the doors, a guard stepped up from inside the room, and opened the doors for you.

A long meeting table sat in the centre of the room, with seven occupants on one of its sides. BigHit’s Founder and CEO sat at the head of the table, and the foot lay vacant—reserved for, you assumed, the Manager. Seven chairs also lay vacant for your team, opposite the BTS members.

As the door gave way, the CEO met your eyes. You gulped your nerves, and plastered a smile on your face. As you all crossed the threshold, the eight people seated on the table stood.

Dragging in a deep breath, you placed your tablet on the table before you faced them all. “Hello everyone,” you enunciated in Korean, and then bowed.

Your team followed your lead, and the people in the room bowed back. You kept your professional smile in place, discreetly wiping your sweating hand on the thigh of your cotton pants. Then you nodded at the CEO and he asked everyone to settle down.

“Welcome to Korea,” the CEO started. “Did you get here okay?”

“Besides the jet-lag, we’re actually very good,” you told the CEO to receive chuckles in response.

“Manager Woo will join us in a few seconds,” he then continued, looking between your team and the boys—that you were yet to properly look at—and gestured towards them. “Meanwhile, let’s introduce ourselves. I’m Bang Si-Hyuk, BigHit’s founder and CEO. Nice to meet you.”

You bowed, telling him your own name, and then shook hands with CEO Bang. Standing from your place, you finally willed your gaze to focus on the faces of the members instead of nervously looking into space.

Oh, wow. Cameras didn’t do these guys any justice, apparently. Not even the 8K ones, because they were really freaking beautiful human beings.

Dressed in lounge wear consisting mainly of extremely baggy hoodies as far as you could gauge, they still managed to look jaw-droppingly gorgeous. And their skin was glowing so bright, it looked unreal. But it was very much real because you were sitting across a three foot wide table from them, you could tell. It looked so soft.

You’d tightly held your lips up in a smile to save your mouth from dropping open.

While you were trying to get a grip on yourself, your eyes landed on a pair of brown ones framed by gorgeous lashes, right opposite to you. They were looking down. But then, they were looking up, as if sensing your gaze on them. Your professional grin involuntarily melted into a genuine one as Taehyung gave you a bashful nod of acknowledgement. You nodded back.

“Hello,” you mumbled, watching as his eyes grew wider. You blinked, releasing how private that sounded. You cleared your throat and ducked your head before looking at all of the seven guys in turn and nodding at each one of them. “Hello to you all,” you addressed them in Korean this time and told them your name. “And this is my team.” You gestured with both hands to your sides. “We’ll be your interviewers and companions for the next six months.”

A flurry of bows, nods and hellos passed over the table, followed by your teammates announcing their names. You doubted any of these would be retained, including your own. Which is why you handed over the seven identical copies of all your resumes to the CEO. “Here, Mister CEO. My boss had mailed them over to you, but these are to help the boys get acquainted with us better,” you told the man, and he gave you an appreciative seeming smile.

“That’s thoughtful of you,” Namjoon suddenly said, smiling with dimples up at you from his place on Taehyung’s right. His black hair was ruffled and a circular framed pair of glasses rested on his eyes. “I’m RM,” he said in English, “but please call me Namjoon. It’s a pleasure meeting you and your team.”

You smiled wide, shaking his hand when he forwarded it. His skin felt super soft, just as you’d expected it to be by looking at it.

The rest of the boys followed suit, minus the handshaking. They all insisted you all call them by their real names, which felt almost funny to you, because you were gonna be unwinding their whole life. This felt so unnecessary.

Just then, the door opened and Manager Woo reappeared. He bowed his head in the CEO’s direction before taking a seat to your extreme left, at the foot of the table. “Hello, everyone,” he said, “did I miss anything?”

“Just the introductions,” Namjoon filled him in with a smile.

Manager Woo nodded and then looked at you. “The next thing to talk about is the schedule your team has planned for us, so that we can sort out any doubts or disagreements that might be there.”

Nodding, you pulled up the itinerary on your iPad, and cleared your throat. “I have planned out a strategy of working on interviews, and then sitting back to compile everything in an orderly fashion,” you announced. “We’ll divide each one of the six months we have on our hands into two groups—three weeks of discussions, and one week of compilation. All seven of us would be working with one member each, one on one, continuously for a time span of three weeks. After that my team will sit together, compare notes and move forth with the actual writing part. Then we’ll check if something has been missed by someone and arrange for its cover up, before we move forward into the next set of three weeks.”

You turned to look at your team to see if any of them wished to add anything, but they nodded at you with discrete thumbs ups. You exhaled in relief.

CEO Bang nodded at Manager Woo, who hummed in response. “Sounds workable to me. Boys?” He gestured towards the band members.

You looked up to find seven pairs of round eyes and gawking mouths.

Murmurs ran across the seven angels seated opposite you. While they were distracted, you took your sweet time looking at each one of their faces. They really did look unreal.

Next to CEO Bang, Jin and Yoongi were engrossed in some discussion. With their heads bent, their hair shined blindingly bright—Yoongi’s like liquid silver, and Jin’s like molten lead. Next to Jin, Namjoon was adjusting his glasses over his shut eyes as he listened to Taehyung whisper something in his ear, and kept shaking his head in response every few seconds. Taehyung was almost drowning in his oversized hoodie with the hood up, as he used his hands with those elegant ass fingers of his to cover his mouth while speaking into Namjoon’s ear. Next to him, Jimin was nodding along to Hoseok as the latter spoke in whispers, gesticulating widely.

Your eyes fell onto the far end of the table, then. Jungkook, who was already looking at you, shot his hand up when your gazes met. His eyes were literally sparkling with curiosity.

“Yes?” you asked with a big smile.

Jungkook flashed his teeth at you, looking not a day over five years of age. “Is one week enough time to write?”

You frowned. “In theory, yes. But if things go south and we need more time, we can always extend the contract. Mr. CEO?”

“According to the clauses in the contracts, definitely.” CEO Bang nodded with a small smile. “The book has to be good. We can compromise with everything, except for the quality.”

You nodded in understanding. There was an extendable clause in your contract, but you had every intention to not have to employ it. Not only did your boss have huge expectations from you, but you yourself were determined to give this project your best. Better than your best. You’d wanted to manage a complete project by yourself for so long, this was your chance of a lifetime to shine.

Taehyung’s hand shot up, breaking you out of your thoughts. He looked beyond adorable with his eyes rounded and lips nervously folded in.

“Ye—yes?” you stuttered very unprofessionally and then covered up with a cough.

“Who works with who?” he said in a breath, confusing you for a moment. “Will you take chits out? Or ask us to choose?”

“Oh, no no.” You chuckled when you caught his drift. “We’ve already decided among ourselves and also done some homework. You’ll find your personal interviewers in your contract copies.”

“Did you decide by picking out chits?” Namjoon grinned at you, and you laughed.

It had been chits, but you weren't about to tell them that. “Something like that.” You shrugged, playfully, and giggles rolled over the table.

Manager Woo, then, launched into a set of instructions for the band members. CEO Bang kept adding details in the middle, and the band members just kept nodding along in a bored fashion. Maybe they’d been over this multiple times.

You sat back to relax, observing everyone as you listened to the set of rules and procedures you were already familiar with. You looked from the corner of your eye as Jimin elbowed Taehyung.

“Did you want to work with someone in particular?” Jimin’s whisper into Taehyung’s ear floated over to you.

Taehyung’s eyes briefly met yours, nearly burning a hole through your head by the deep curiosity emanating from them. And then he ducked his head again, shrugging Jimin off of him.

You swallowed, roughly. Oh, God.

Manager Woo wound up his instructions with a repetition of be as honest as you can be, and then called out to you. “Do you wish to add something, Miss?”

You looked at your team. They shrugged. You shrugged, too. “You’ve covered it really well, Mister Manager. I’d actually like to emphasize one of your points—this is not an interview.” You looked across the table, at each of their faces, turn-wise. “There would be no cameras, no recorders, and no one monitoring your actions. Relax and be at ease. You should, in fact, think of the sessions as making new friends. You tell them about yourself, and they tell you about themselves. Only difference being, what you tell them will get compiled in a book so there must be a bit more of that.”

Your eyes met Taehyung’s and he nodded with a small laugh. The others gave you similar reactions, with Hoseok giving a two-fingered salute.

“That’s good. Also, Miss, we would like to request your team to work around the boys’ bodyguards.” Manager Woo looked at you earnestly.

“We’re really very grateful that you’ve agreed to our request for privacy and not enforced the sessions to be with the boys’ managers.” You shrugged a shoulder, and exchanged glances with Sana and Nathan. “And so, we would be okay working in the presence of the bodyguards, no issues.”

Your team hummed and nodded their own agreements. Manager Woo nodded back with a huge smile, looking relieved.

“We have the first interview scheduled for the day after tomorrow,” he then said as he distributed the individual contract copies among the BTS members and then your team. “Have a look at the details, one last time.”

You could, by this point, recite the clauses of the contract in your sleep. Yet, to be respectful, you accepted the file and placed it before yourself. You looked to your right and then left at your team. “Any questions, guys?”

Meryl raised her hand. Your eyebrows rose in intrigue. You gestured for her to speak up. “Yeah, um. About the secrecy clause—can we get a rough estimate as to when the news of the biography will be released?”

You nodded along. That was kind of a good question.

Manager Woo looked at CEO Bang, and all seven boys’ eyes adorably followed. CEO Bang readjusted his glasses. “We are planning a press conference at the end of six months.” Whoa. “I believe you’re going to have to keep this secret for the entirety of the project.”

You exhaled. It was gonna be kinda hard, but you’d manage.

“I got you!”

Your head snapped up at Jungkook’s shout of joy. He held the file in one hand and the other was raised up, mid-cheer. When all eyes fell on him, he froze for a moment before folding onto himself, bashfully. The boys all broke out laughing. You too had to stifle yours, by looking down in your lap, to maintain your professionality.

When you looked up after a moment, your eyes met Taheyung’s again. He seemed to be slightly confused and kept looking between the file in his hand, you and Jungkook.

“Si… Simon?” he whispered with a heavy accent, but it was all you could hear despite the chaotic discussions happening all around you.

You pointed at the guy sitting next to you. “Him,” you responded in English.

Taehyung’s eyes reverted back to you. “You?” he asked in English, very quietly.

You paused. “Jungkook,” you responded, gesturing to the still blushing boy with your eyes. And then, realizing how intimate your exchange was, you flashed him a professional smile. “Simon is great at conversation! You’ll have a good time with him,” you old him loudly, in Korean, earning smiles from the Manager and CEO.

Taehyung had still looked a bit lost when you tore your gaze away from him and picked up your tablet, but you willed yourself to unlock the gadget and not let your eyes stray.

This was just your first meeting, and Taehyung’s person’s intensity was already too much to handle. You thanked God you weren't gonna work with him one on one, or you won’t survive.

But, little did you know.

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gimme feedback, much much appreciated!

Tags: @tangledsparkles @hoefortaeshands @getmemyfries

#taehyung angst #bts angst #taehyung fluff #bts fluff #taehyung imagine #bts imagine #bts v #v angst #v fluff #v imagine #wbcs #*mine

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chickensarentcheap · 3 years

Text

Never Gonna Be Alone- Chapter 54

Title: Unexpected

Warnings: profanity

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @miss-smutty, @tragiclyhip, @ocfairygodmother, @ocappreciation

Link on Ao3

: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28860450/chapters/80096629

He hears her as she comes in; the soft click of the front door opening, the tap of her heels against the hardwood floor, the jingle of the dogs’ tags as they hurry to greet her. That almost childlike voice speaking in a hushed whisper; praising them for being ‘good boys’ and for not barking and ‘waking the demons up’. The soft rustle as she slips out of her jacket, followed by a yawn and the shuffling of tiny feet approaching him.

Before he has the chance to turn away from the dishwasher and greet her, she’s wrapping her arms around him from behind; briefly squeezing him before her palms settle on his stomach and her forehead rests against his back. For several minutes neither of them speak; her eyes closed as his calloused fingertips repeatedly drift along her forearms and over the tops of her hands. Enjoying the simplicity of the moment; a quiet and innocent display of intimacy in the security of their still and silent home. She relaxes in the warmth that radiates from his body and the smell that clings to both clothes and skin; fresh and crisp and so utterly masculine. For years she’s enjoyed that scent; reminding her of the comforts of home and the beautiful things that exist in their lives and within their relationship. Using it as a comfort whenever they’re separated; sleeping with his pillow, wearing his tees or his dress shirts, wrapping her body up in one of his hoodies. It keeps him close when he’s so far away; easily managing to chase away even the worst of the loneliness, calm her when her patience has been tested, and bring her back from the edge when feels herself slipping into the dark, hopeless place.

His fingers push through hers; lightly squeezing her hands before raising one to his lips and pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist. “What’s this all about? This kind of greeting?”

“What? I’m not allowed to hug my husband? Maybe I’m happy to see you. Maybe I appreciate you; taking care of the house, watching the hooligans, letting my sister borrow me for a night. And maybe...just maybe…” she playfully pinches his stomach. “...I find it sexy when you’re doing domestic shit.”

“You do, do ya?” He grins. “Just HOW sexy do you find it?”

“Incredibly sexy. Coming home to a spotless kitchen and all the kids fast asleep and every stitch of laundry folded AND packed? That makes me so hot for you.”

“Maybe that was my plan.” Placing a kiss on the top of her hand, he releases his hold and returns to putting the last of the clean dishes away. “Get all this shit done, make you all hot and bothered, have you at the point you can’t say no.”

“Like I would say no. I seem to be incapable of using that word when it comes to you for some reason. It’s why I’m in the predicament I am now; married to this insanely hot, muscly, tattooed Aussie who I let impregnate me with SEVEN spawn.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Definitely NOT a bad thing. A few more than I ever expected to have, but…” her hands glide along across his stomach and onto his sides. Running up and down his ribs before settling on his hips; playfully pinching the miniscule amount of fat that resides there. “...we do good work.”

“We do,” he agrees, and turns to face her; leaning back against the bottom cupboards with his palms flat against the countertop. “We do fucking amazing work, actually.”

Her hands slide to the small of his back and she leans her body against his; the bottom of her chin against his chest as she peers up at him. Cheeks slightly flushed; the lingering remnants of the powerful drink she’d finished just mere minutes before jumping in a cab and heading for home. “How did things go?”

“I was just going to ask you the same thing. You didn’t stick around long; after you called me.”

“I just wasn’t feeling it. That kind of place. Not really my scene anymore. Maybe when I was in my early twenties and looking for an easy pick up; a bar where the guys are so needy it’s like shooting fish in a barrel. It was like I was in this whole new, strange world that I didn’t even understand. Am I really getting that old?”

“You’re not getting old. You just make better choices now. You’re just wise. More mature.”

She groans.

“What?” he chuckles, and gently combs a hand through her hair; fingertips moving wayward strands from the side of her face and looping them behind her ear. “What did I say?”

“You said mature. Which is just a polite way of calling me old.”

“That is definitely NOT why I called you mature. You are NOT old. Far from it.”

“You’re saying that out loud, but inwardly you’re counting my gray hairs, aren’t you.”

“Maybe…”

Frowning, she slaps both palms against his ass and then pinches aggressively. “Jerk!”

“You really want to know what I was thinking?”

“I don’t know, do I? Are you actually brave enough to admit it? You may be Mister Big, Bad Mercenary, but you can’t deny you’re scared of little old me.”

“That’s because you hold all the power. Other people? They can’t hurt me the way you can.”

“I guess in your eyes, this is nothing scarier than the reality of sleeping on the couch for the rest of your naturally born life,” she chides, as her hands slip under his t-shirt. Her palms repeatedly skimming over his bare back; fingers able to find the smattering of scars by sheer memory. “Tell me,” she encourages. “What WERE you thinking?”

“You sure you can handle it?”

“I’m a big girl; I can take it.”

“Of there’s no doubt about that. And you take it very well.”

She gives a dramatic roll of her eyes, then lightly scraps her fingernails along his skin. “Considering what I’ve gone through in the past twelve and a half years, I think it’s safe to say that I can pretty much handle anything you throw at me.”

“I dunno…”

“Tyler, my husband is a mercenary. I have four sons. I have seen and heard it all. Nothing shocks me anymore.”

“All I was thinking was how you looked really beautiful tonight. I mean, you’re beautiful ALL the time, but tonight? Extra beautiful.”

A slow smile creeps across her face; dark eyes sparkling up at him in a mix of content and slight embarrassment. Still not entirely comfortable with compliments and praise; her childhood and eventual first marriage spent being constantly torn down and degraded. “That was an extremely good save.”

A grin tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Wasn’t bad, huh? You impressed by me?”

“Very. That was extremely quick thinking on your part. You may have just saved yourself a very long time of camping out in the living room.”

“Well, I actually would just go and stay in the pool house. Try not to cross your path until you’ve calmed down a bit. And honestly…” Both hands push through her hair now; fingers slowly combing through the loosening curls. “...it’s the truth. It WAS what I was thinking.”

“Husband, I don’t care what you say, you’re a big softie.”

“Shut up,” he grumbles, fingertips grazing over the smooth lines of her jaw; thumbs repeatedly brushing across the tops of her cheeks before leaning down to kiss her.

Long and soft and sweet; the slow and familiar movements of closed mouth upon closed mouth. A sigh escaping as she climbs onto the top of his feet; standing on the tips of her toes as she curls her arms around his neck. It’s a simple and innocent form of intimacy. Nothing hurried or rushed; bodies not driven by profound want and need. Just a gentle and languid mix of mouths and the tips of tongues. Calloused palms tenderly cradling her face

He gathers her in his embrace when the moment finally ends. Tucking her tightly into his chest. An arm wrapped securely around her waist and hand resting against the back of her head; fingers pushing through her hair and then gently kneading her scalp. She relishes in that physical connection; eyes closed and her arms wrapped around his torso. Enjoying the press of his cotton t-shirt against her cheek and the hard wall of muscle that lays behind it, the familiar scent that clings to skin and clothes, the warmth that radiates from his body, the sound of his heart beating deep within his chest.

The latter plays on her emotions; the realization of how close she’d come to never hearing that sound again. Remembering those first nights in Dhaka; when sleep managed to find him and she’d laid against the strong, beautiful body with her head on his chest or pressed against his back. This big, seemingly fearless man that was haunted by so many ghosts and plagued by so many demons; a troubled mind and a weary body somehow finding reprieve and comfort in HER presence. All the things he’d confessed to her; his guilt and his shame and his regret and how he’d been harbouring a death wish for years. She had lay there in that dirty hotel room marvelling at him; having gone through so much yet somehow managing to keep putting one foot in front of the other. The sound of his heart was the sound of potential and promise; he hadn’t given up and he’d admitted to finally finding something -someone- that could perhaps make him happy again and give him a sense of purpose.

It had come so close to being snatched away; both on the Sultana Kamal Bridge and during his return to Dhaka.

She tightly squeezes her eyes in an attempt to hold back a flood of tears; hands increasing their grip on the back of his shirt. He doesn’t question it; the trembling of her body or the hitch in her breathing or the desperate way in which she clings to him. Instead he drops a kiss on the top of her head and his palm slides to the middle of her back; rubbing in smooth, comforting circles.

It’s several minutes before he speaks. Both hands briefly settling on her shoulders, gently pushing her away before one hand rests on her hip and the knuckles of the other graze along her jaw. “You alright? You good?”

Nodding, she opens her eyes and looks up at him, managing a reassuring smile and a small nod.

“You sure? ‘Cause you don’t look alright. You want to tell me what’s going on? What’s got you looking like the waterworks are going to start any second?”

“It’s just been a hell of a couple weeks. And finding out about Mark and realizing that was actually him that got that close to me? It’s just unsettled me a bit. That’s all.”

“I am sorry that I kept it from you. If I’d had any other choice…”

Her hands slide down his back and onto his ribs. “You didn’t though. You did the right thing. You don’t need to be sorry. I don’t WANT you to be sorry. You have nothing to be sorry for. You made the right decision.”

He nods slowly as he considers her words. “Did you at least try and have a good time tonight? Was any of it decent at least?”

“Dinner was great. Conversation was awesome. I could have done without going to a bar mainly inhabited by frat boys whose balls haven’t probably even dropped yet. Do you want to know how many times I was propositioned tonight? How many times my ass was grabbed?”

“Not really, no.”

“A lot. A staggering amount, actually. Probably more times than you've grabbed my ass in the entire twelve years I’ve been married to you. But I enjoy when YOU grab it. Them? I feel like I need to bathe in a tub full of bleach.”

“You know, you could have called me. I would have come down there to bust some heads.”

“Which is exactly WHY I didn’t call you. Because you’re much more useful to me and the children than you are in jail. Let’s NOT catch any assault charges, okay?”

“I don’t know,” he chides. “Guys start sexually harassing my wife…”

“I handled them. Nothing good old fashioned public humiliation to set them straight. What about your night? Did it go okay? Have YOU been okay?”

“I’ve been good. Just been keeping to myself. Hung out with Desi and Shaena, kept the kids fed and entertained. No one broke any bones or blackened any eyes or shed any blood. That’s considered a successful night in our house.”

“That's considered a miracle,” she laughs. “You know, considering your children are feral and all.”

“You’re going to blame that on me, aren’t you?”

“Honey, you once lived in a shack in the outback with a chicken as a roommate. That’s pretty feral.”

“You fell in love with me. While I was living in that shack with that chicken. Knowing I was feral. What does that say about you?”

“It says that I have exceptional taste. That despite being feral, I thought you were insanely sexy. I saw that sparkle of a diamond under the rough. Didn’t take much for me to bring it right out in the open.”

“Comparing me to a diamond? I don’t know whether to be offended or flattered.”

“It’s a compliment, you jackass.”

“You have this uncanny ability of loving me up one second and shit talking me the next.”

“You act like that’s something new. I’ve only been like this for more than a decade. I notice you stick around. Put up with it. You haven’t told me to fuck off or packed your bags and hauled ass.”

“Well despite your downfalls, you have way more good qualities going for you.”

“Yeah? And what good qualities are those?”

“I’m not entirely sure. I mean, you can’t reach things on the high shelves, you can’t get clothes out of the bottom of the washing machine, you can’t cook for shit.”

“Go on,” she encourages, and pinches the sensitive areas below his ribs. “Get it all off your chest. I promise I won’t kill you in your sleep.”

“But, in spite of all of your many faults, I love you. And I can’t live without you.”

Smiling, she stands on her tip toes and presses a kiss to the underside of his chin. “We are so codependent.”

“A little. But I think it’s kinda of understandable, don’t you? I mean, both of us spent a lot of years not having anyone. Always had to fend for ourselves, didn’t trust anyone, didn’t let anyone in ‘cause we didn’t want to get hurt. And then we met and that all changed. I think it’s easy to see why we are the way we are; we’ve been through a lot of shit together. A lot of horrible, horrible shit.”

“Yeah,” she sighs, then squeezes his sides and smiles up at him. “But we’ve also been through a lot of really good times too.”

“We have,” he agrees. “Even in the midst of some of the really shitty stuff.”

“And we always get through things. No matter how bad they are. How many couples can say that? How many would just break and fold and not even fight for things? Probably a lot. I like to think we’re a different breed. That what we have is totally different from what they have.”

“I think it is. I mean, let’s face it; we’re both phenomenally resilient. And horrifyingly stubborn. I think you’re even worse than I am.”

“Please,” she laughs. “You are the king of stubborn people. No one comes close to you.”

“I don’t know, Me. Some of the things I’ve seen you do when you shouldn’t…”

“Tyler, you are way more stubborn than I am. Admit it.”

“You’re arguing like a stubborn person would,” he teases, and then laughs when she lands a playful, light punch to his stomach and tries to back away; a palm on the small of her back holding her in place. “How about we just call it a tie?”

“How about we say you have fifteen percent more stubbornness than I do?”

“Fifteen? I’ll go as high as five.”

“Five?” she scoffs. “You have to be shitting me. It is way more than five.”

“Seven?”

She stares pointedly up at him.

“Ten?”

“I’ll settle for ten. Even though it’s more like twelve, thirteen, but…” she squeals when he brings the palms of hands down on her ass in a ringing slap; fingers digging through the fabric of her dress and into the soft flesh. “...I’ll give it to you.”

“Good girl.”

“Where’s the littles? I expected to find you fast asleep with a couple of them on you.”

“Put them to bed.”

“You got all three of them upstairs? A couple trips?”

“I’m no two trip bitch, Esme. I got it done in one shot. Boom.” He flexes his right bicep. “Guns of fucking steel, baby.”

“So sexy,” she praises, and then tilts her face up towards him for another kiss. “I am going to and get out of this dress and take a shower. Want to come with?”

“I do, actually. You go do your thing and I’ll finish things down here and lock everything up.”

“Sounds good,” she chirps, and he presses a chaste peck to her lips. “Don’t be forever okay? I’ve kind of missed you. Even in the carnal way.”

“Isn’t that the best way?”

“Sometimes. The most fun way, that’s for sure.”

“Best way to spend any night of the week if you ask me.” His palm slides down her spine as she steps away; briefly lingering at the small of her back and then passing over her over ass.

“Don’t take too long,” she says, and reaches for his hand as she turns on her heel ; fingertips sliding over long, calloused digits and across the rough, work weary palm. And she shoots him a smile over her shoulder as she heads from the room; those big, dark eyes betraying the sadness, fear and confusion that plague her.

****

“You know what I want to do when we get home?” she asks, as he massages shampoo into her short, dark locks. “One of the first things I want?”

“Other than watching the sunset? And a long sleep in our bed?”

“I want a pink lemonade cupcake from Bitten. And maybe a key lime one too. I miss their cupcakes. If there’s anything in this world that even comes close to being better than sex, it’s their cupcakes.”

“Comes close to being better than sex? Excuse me?”

“Well maybe not sex with YOU. But sex with average lovers. Or just above average. You’re off the chart. In fact you’re so far off the chart, you’ve made an entire chart all of your own. Nothing comes even remotely close to your chart.”

“How many average or above average lovers have you had?”

“We have talked about this...many times...in the past twelve and a bit years. You’re only the fourth guy I’ve ever been with. Actually, you could be considered only the third because number two came before he got inside of me and then cried about it and instead of getting off, I had to console him and his fragile masculinity.”

“Jesus Christ,” he chuckles. “What kind of guys were you used to?”

“Mediocre ones. At best. And then you came along and I totally stepped up my game.”

“I don’t know, Me. I’m not exactly the best catch. I’m kinda...messy.”

“I will not tolerate any of this nonsense. You shit talking yourself. So you’ve got some issues…

“Some?”

“A few. But you’re not messy. Okay, maybe you were a TAD messy when we FIRST met, but you got your shit together quick. Cleaned yourself up.”

“Almost dying and being in a coma for a week and the hospital for three months will do that to you. Wean you off your vices.”

She tilts her head back and frowns up at him. “Here I was thinking you were going to say ‘it’s because I finally had a reason to clean myself up. Someone to get my shit together for.”

“I didn’t think that needed to be said. Isn’t that obvious?”

“Maybe I just like to hear it.”

“Baby…” He leans down and presses a kiss to the tip of her nose. “...you were the only reason I was even alive. Of course I got my shit together for you. I wouldn’t have; had you not been around.”

A smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. “You know, you always come up with the most immaculate of saves at the most perfect time.”

“Only took me twelve and a half years. I guess I’m a slow learner, huh?”

“I don’t know. You seem to be pretty quick at learning all the right things. And by right things I mean all the sexiest ones.”

“If there’s one thing I DO excel at…”

“Despite what you think of yourself, you excel at MANY things. But you just happen to be a God at things that involve being naked.”

“Well technically, we’re not always COMPLETELY naked. When I get my best ideas.”

“Without pants,” she clarifies. “I mean, they have to come off no matter what.”

“How about we not talk about being without pants?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, husband, we’re not wearing any pants right now.”

“Oh I’ve noticed. I’m just trying not to think of the naughty things that can happen when we’re naked from the waist down. Because this shower…?”

“Not exactly the easiest place to have fun in,” she finishes. “Last time you almost dropped me.”

“In my defence, I slipped. The tiles were slippery. You used too much of that gel shit. The one that smells like watermelon.”

“It’s cucumber and cantaloupe, thank you very much.”

“Whatever it is, you’re not supposed to use the whole bottle at once. Now…” he pecks her lips. “...rinse.”

His hands move through her hair when she bows her head under the full stream of the shower; gently scrubbing at her scalp before his fingers slip through the wet, soapy tresses. Clearing them of any and all evidence of shampoo; enjoying that familiar honey and coconut scent that he first encountered and fallen in love with many years before.

“You know…” she says, as he reaches for the matching conditioner and squeezes some into his palm. “...we didn’t think the whole shower thing through. When we did the renos on this place.”

“I asked you if you wanted me to blow out that one wall. Totally get rid of the sewing room and make the bathroom bigger. Why the hell do we even need a sewing room anyway? I have never...EVER...seen you sew a single damn thing in twelve in a half years.”

“I sewed your arm back up,” she reminds him. “In Dhaka.”

“Honey, I’m not talking about doing patchwork on a human with a needle and dental floss. Have you ever fixed a hole in a pair of jeans? Hemmed a pair of pants? Put a button back on?”

“No,” she admits. “But it doesn’t mean I never will. I could pick up the hobby. And be very good at it.”

“Me, I love you, but you’re not THAT kind of wife. The whole making Halloween costumes and kids clothes? That’s not your thing.”

“I don’t cook well, I can’t reach things on the top shelves or the bottom of the washer, I don’t sew. Just what DO I bring to this whole gig as a wife?”

“Your body has carried SEVEN of my kids. You grew them and you brought them into this world safe and sound. You raise them. Keep them alive. Nurture them.”

“WE do those things. As a team. I’m not a single parent.”

“You’re an amazing mum. You have been right from the beginning. And you’re an awesome wife. You put up with my shit; the job, all my mental crap, my shitty past. I mean, you married a mercenary. A killer for hire. That says a lot right there.”

“Yeah,it says I’m a few bricks short of a load,” she teases, and tips her head back to grin up at him.

“You’ve loved me no matter what. When I had nothing to offer you. When I was fucking mess. You still stuck around. And you stuck around no matter how hard I’ve made things on you.”

“Of course I have. I love you.”

“And that…” he presses a kiss to the bridge of her nose. “...is exactly what you bring to the whole wife thing. It’s more than enough.”

“You’re a sap,” she declares, and winks at him. “I love this side of you. The sweet and sappy side. Even I do have to keep it a secret from the world.”

“One day, Me. One day I promise you that I will let you reveal all my secrets to the world. When I no longer have a rep to maintain.”

“All of them?”

“Every single one.”

“Even about all your sketch books at home? And the blankie you have to have covering your feet at night? Millie’s old receiving blanket?”

“Even those,” he promises.

“Maybe I will do it during your eulogy. That seems like as good a time as any.”

Grinning, he motions for her to step under the stream of water. “Planning my funeral already, are you?”

“Oh,I’ve had it planned for years,” she chides, and then gives a squeal when he lands a backhand on one of the cheeks of her ass. “For your information…” she dips her head under the water; eyes closing as his fingers once more massage at her scalp and clear her hair of the conditioner. “...I planned it for when you’re 99.”

“You couldn’t give me that extra year? That’s harsh.”

“You’re the one who said you didn’t want to make it to triple digits,” she points out, and turns to face him. “I thought I was just living up to your wishes.”

“That’s very kind of you. Very thoughtful.” His fingers move wet strands of hair away from the sides of her face, then clears the remaining suds of shampoo from around her eyes and off her cheeks and nose.

“I always have your best interests at heart,” she chides, standing on her tiptoes as he leans down to kiss her and then reaching for the shampoo. “My turn?” she asks hopefully, and shakes the bottle in front of his face.

“Didn’t we agree on this? I wash my own hair? Unless there’s a reason I can’t.”

“Don’t be so difficult. There’s nothing wrong with me doing these things for you. I WANT to do it. You take care of me, I take care of you. This marriage isn’t a one way street.”

“Esme…”

She drops her chin to chest and stares up at him. “Tyler…”

He’s unable to resist that long; those dark, seemingly innocent eyes surrounded by long, even darker lashes. “Fine,” he relents, and retreats to the lone built-in bench at the back of the shower. “You get your way. As usual.”

“Because you love me.” She uses a set of controls on the side wall to switch the water flow from the rain shower head at her end, to the one on his. “Because you can’t live without me. Admit it.”

“I’ve already admitted that MANY times.”

“We really ARE codependent as fuck.” She squeezes a helping of shampoo into her palm, then begins scrubbing it into his hair.

“We already talked about this. We have perfectly legitimate reasons to be the way we are. We could be worse things, you know. Than co-dependent. We could be serial cheaters.”

“Or serial killers.”

He chuckles. “That just popped into your head? You thought of that because…?”

“Because I have enough rage inside this little body to do some serious damage to a lot of people.”

“Should I sleep with one eye open, or…?”

“You’re not on my list. Why would you be?”

He shrugs in response; eyes closing and his body relaxing as her fingers press into his scalp; deeply and aggressively kneading.

“I can feel the scars,” she remarks. “I bet if you shaved your head right down, you’d have a pretty good road map up there.”

“Want me to do it? Shave it?”

“Nope. I like it this way.” Her nails lightly scratch against his scalp. “Longer version of my favourite haircut on you. Feel good?”

“Feels really good.” His head falls forward; brow resting against her and his hands finding her hips. “Might put me to sleep.”

“Now that I would be a waste of perfectly good nakedness. Rinse.”

Tilting his back, he lets the steady flow of water rid his hair of suds and uses his palms to scrub and clean his beard. When he opens his eyes, her back is towards him and she’s reaching out to place the bottle back on the metal shelves in the corner. And she gives a shriek -followed by giggle- when he curls an arm around her waist and yanks her into his lap. And she presses a kiss to his cheek and adjusts her position; turning sideways and perching herself on his left thigh while her legs dangle over the right.

Her eyes close as she nestles her face into her favourite spot; that warm, safe place between neck and shoulder. And for several minutes, neither of them speak. Both her arms wrapped around his neck; his head resting back against the tiles and a palm repeatedly smoothing up and down her thigh. And she gives a long, breathy sigh when his lips find her shoulder; light and feathery kisses peppered across her collarbone.

“Speaking of being naked…”

Grinning, she pulls back to look at him. “Promise you won’t drop me this time?”

“We can do it differently. You can ride me.”

Her eyes widen and she gives a dramatic gasp. “Twice in one night? Is this second Christmas? I usually don’t get to do that twice a month, never mind twice in one day!”

With a smirk, he tangles his fingers in her hair. His voice rumbling deep in his chest as he growls, “Come here,” and pulls her into a ravenous, aggressive kiss.

*****

He’s the first out of the bathroom. Peeling the towel from around his waist, he uses it to vigorously scrub at his hair and then tosses it in the nearby hamper. He snags a clean pair of sweats from the open suitcase lying in the corner of the room; every piece of clothing that has to return with them to Australia now packed away and ready for departure in four days. He’s anxious to get home; each minute leading him closer to the moment he can sleep in a more familiar bed and feel the sand beneath his feet and between his toes. To the sound of the waves rolling onto the shore and the smell of salt hanging in the hair; the slight rustle of the surrounding trees as a breeze blows through them and the calls and the ‘chatter’ of the wildlife that takes up residence in the woods and upon their stretch of land.

“You going to check on the kids?” Esme calls from the bathroom; her voice drowned out by the hairdryer. “Make sure no one has fallen out of bed. Or sneaking Ipad time when it’s supposed to be night-night time.”

“In a sec.” He rakes both hands through his hair, then reaches for a tube of pain relief cream that sits on the dresser; eyes falling on the plastic bag bearing the name of the bodega that Esme had sat down before stepping into the shower. His curiosity gets the better of him; eyes narrowing and confusion immediately setting in at what greets him when he peers into the bag.

“What did you say?” Esme asks, as she pads into the room; combing her fingers through her now dry hair, clad in an oversized bubblegum pink bathrobe. “I didn’t hear you. Did you check on them or…?”

“I said in a sec. Babe…” he turns to face her, bag in hand. “...what’s this?”

Eyes widening, she briefly -and nervously- chews on her bottom lip. “It’s a pregnancy test.”

"Yeah, I see that. But whose? Why’s it here? Why you’d bring it home? It can’t be yours.”

Her teeth dig even harder into her lip; hands anxiously fidget with the belt on her robe.

“It CAN’T be yours. There’s no way. It’s not possible. How could that even happen? Scientifically, it can’t.”

“Actually it can. Riley said one in two hundred women will get pregnant despite having their tubes tied.”

“Okay, but we doubled up on things. I got fixed too. I mean, there’s no way you got pregnant with both of us getting things done.”

“There’s something called recanalization. It’s where the vas deferens grows back and creates a new connection and causes the vasectomy to reverse itself.”

“Wait…” he gives an awkward, uncomfortable chuckle. “...that’s a thing?”

Esme nods. “And you usually don’t find out it happened until your partner gets pregnant. Years later.”

“THIS many later? We haven’t been using anything for almost five years. Why would it wait until now to happen? Why not before?”

“It’s probably just how long it took. For things to reverse. I mean, I googled it and there were stories of pregnancies happening a decade after a vasectomy, so…”

“Jesus…” He issues a long, heavy exhale of breath and leans back against the dresser; eyes fixated on the bag still in his hands.

Tears well in her eyes. “You’re angry.”

“I’m not angry.”

“That pulsing vein in your neck says you are.”

“I am NOT angry,” he stresses. “Shocked as hell? Confused as fuck? Yeah. But I am not angry. Why would I be angry? I’ve got nothing to be angry about. You really think you are?”

“I think it’s a strong possibility.” She cautiously moves closer to him, then sinks down on the edge of the bed in front of him. “I mean, there’s signs. Things that I’ve felt before. Five times.”

“Like?”

“I’ve been moody, more emotional than usual, hungry constantly. I haven’t been sleeping well.”

“Yeah, but there’s some good reasons...other reasons than a baby...for those things. I mean, stress will do it. You’ve been stressed. About me, about the holidays in general, your mother, the neighbour, now all this crap with Mark.”

“I was feeling them before all that. Before we even left Australia.”

“How long before?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugs. “A few weeks.”

“A few weeks? You’ve felt like this for a few weeks? What the hell, Esme? Why wouldn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t connect it to maybe being pregnant. I didn’t think it was possible either. I thought maybe it was just peri-menopause. Or I was just feeling rundown and overwhelmed; things have been crazy busy with both businesses and the kids’ after school schedules. I chalked it up to that. And then when you said you were going to do a job, I figured the worry of that just added to everything.”

“You still should have said something. If you weren’t feeling well...for whatever reason…”

“You were caught up in things for the business. It’s been insane lately. There’s been a huge influx of new clients, new hires, big high profile jobs…”

“Yeah, there has been. But you know what? None of that matters. YOU matter. I would have found a way; to deal with that and take care of you.”

“I didn’t need you taking care of me.”

“That seems to be a real theme with you lately. Not needing me.”

“Tyler, don’t even go there. We already fought about that. About me calling Riley that night and not you. And I have apologized a million times. What more do you want from me?”

“Nothing. I don’t want anything from you, Esme. And apparently you don’t want or need anything from me.”

“That is so unfair. And so far from the truth. Don’t do that. Don’t take everything as a slight to you. I didn’t keep it from you to hurt you. I just didn’t think it was anything but stress and being busy and feeling rundown. That’s it. It had nothing to do with not wanting you or needing you. Because I need you in so many ways. And not just as my husband. You know that I want you. And that I need you. In every way.”

Sighing heavily, he tosses the box onto the top of the dresser, then crosses his arms over his chest.

“This has nothing to do with how I feel about you,” she insists. “And I know you taking everything as a personal slight is just part of your trauma and your response to it and…”

“Can we NOT do this?” he interjects. “Can we not go totally off the rails? That doesn’t need to be talked about. That…” he nods down at the box. “...THAT needs to be talked about.”

“You ARE angry.”

“I’m going to GET angry if you keep saying that. I am not angry. I am confused and I’m shocked and I’m wondering how the fuck this kind of thing can happen and…” he sighs, running his palms over his hand. “...do you really think you are?”

“It’s a strong possibility. I mean, I have skipped two periods.”

“Holy fuck…” he shakes his head incredulously. “...this just gets better.”

“You know things have never been normal when it comes to that. How many times have I skipped periods and not been pregnant?”

“How many times have you skipped them and BEEN pregnant?” he counters. “More times than not, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she sheepishly admits. “Look, I get you’re frazzled and you’re confused and you know what? So am I. But getting upset with me…”

“I am not…” he snaps, then briefly closes his eyes and gathers his composure. “...I am not upset with you. It’s just...wow.”

“Just two weeks ago you brought up wanting another one. You talked about how we should both get things reversed and…”

“And we talked about it and we came to the conclusion that I didn’t really want a baby, I was looking for a way to fill the fucking crater that my son left behind when he died. Did we not agree to that?”

She nods, then briefly looks away as she struggles to hold back a flood of tears. “You wouldn’t want it then? If I am?”

“I didn’t say that. I would NEVER say that.”

“I mean, if I am, there’s options. If we’re not in a good place, we don’t…”

“There’s no options. That’s our kid. A life we made together. Just ‘cause the timing sucks and it’s totally unexpected doesn’t mean I wouldn’t want it. Do you think that little of me?”

“No!" she exclaims. " Of course don’t! I love you. You’re the love of my life. You have no idea how I look at you. How I see you. I just assumed the way you’re reacting and the way you’re talking, that maybe you think it's a bad idea.”

“Do I think it’s a great idea? No. Would I want to get rid of a kid I helped make? No. Would I love the kid with everything I have? Yes. Why? You don’t want it?”

“It’s not that I don’t want it. It’s…” she struggles to find the words; hands increasing the intensity and speed at which they fidget with the belt on the bathrobe.

He drops to his knees in front of her; prying her hands away from the terry cloth sash and gripping them tightly. “Tell me. Please.”

She looks up at him. “I love you. More than I ever thought I could love someone. And I love our life together. I never want it to end. I love our family and what we’ve built. And I love being a mom. You know all that, right?”

“I do. I do know all of that.”

“I’m going to be forty two years old; there’s a greater risk of things going wrong as a mother ages. And we’ve had complications with every single one but Millie. Look at TJ and Tanner…”

“That was just a freaky thing that went wrong. It didn’t happen again; with Brookie and Takota. They were fine.”

“I’ve had problems with each pregnancy except for the first. Bleeding and cramping and scare after scare. How many times did we think we’d lose our babies? More times than you can count.”

“But we didn’t lose them.”

“We lost one. And I lost one with Mark.”

“And you had seven perfectly healthy babies. I mean, Tanner had his issues, but got better and now he’s great. He’s the healthiest out of them. Not to mention once you got past the first trimester, things went fine. For all of them. I mean the last two didn’t even want to come out; they liked it so much in there.”

She manages a laugh. “We almost had to forcibly evict them.”

“And look how well you did bringing them into the world. Totally natural. In the water. That was fucking incredible.”

“I guess I’m just worried about losing another one. Because I couldn’t take that, Tyler. And I know you couldn’t either.”

“So based on a totally small percentage of something going wrong, you wouldn’t want a baby? OUR baby?”

“I want it. I’m just scared. Of having one. Especially now. With so much shit going on. All this craziness. It’s not exactly the best time.”

“Have any of them been at the best time? Either when they were conceived or when they were born? They’ve all been tied to bad shit in some way. That seems to be our thing; making babies or having them when shit’s tough.”

“And I’m terrified something will go wrong. Remember with Declan? When they thought maybe he had Down Syndrome?”

“I do. And you know what else I remember? I remember that you and I talked about it...extensively...many times. And that we agreed that if there was something going on with him, it didn’t matter. Because it was our kid and we could handle anything thrown at us. I mean, we even researched the first steps into getting whatever he’d need to thrive and learn. Are you saying now you wouldn’t be able to handle it?”

“I know I’d be able to. And believe me, it doesn’t matter if there are problems. Because that’s my baby. No matter what.”

“But…”

“I just...I don’t know...I just…” she sighs heavily, then clamps her mouth shut.

“Esme, if there is ever a time you need to be one hundred percent completely honest with me, this is it. You need to tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours. I can’t read your mind, babe. Tell me. Please.”

“Even if it might upset you?”

“Even then. You need to tell me. What’s going on? What’s got you so worried and so scared?”

“It’s a lot of work. ANY baby. Even the perfectly healthy ones.”

“I know. I’ve been through this seven times. Eight times if we count Austin. I know what it takes. And you know that I put everything I have into it; being a dad.”

“You do. And you’re awesome at it. The whole daddy thing.”

“So then what are you concerned about? What…?”

“Children with special needs bring a lot to the table. A lot of extra stuff.”

“I know that too. I’m prepared for that.”

“Are you? Prepared for all of that kind of stuff? The amount of time that will be devoted? The possible health issues? The therapies that we'll have to submit them to? The way the other kids will feel animosity towards their sibling? The stress it'll put on our marriage? Are you prepared for ALL that?" ”

“Are you? Are you saying you couldn’t handle it?”

She shakes her head.

“Esme, please. Just tell me.”

“I’m worried that if something is wrong, it’ll get to be too much.” The tears finally fall. “It will be too much to handle and you’ll leave.”

“Baby...hey…come here…”

Dropping her hands, he gathers her into his arms; a hand on the back of her head as she sobs into his shoulders. He knows it’s a mix of things; her battle with her own mental health, her worries surrounding his, the fact her relationship with her mother finally met its drastic and painful end. And now the emergence of her supposedly dead ex husband; a man who’d caused her so much pain and torment and she’d finally gotten rid of.

“It’s okay.” The fingers of one hand gently massage her scalp; the other palm moving in slow, smooth and comforting circles in the middle of her back. “You’re alright.”

“Promise me you won’t leave. If things get really hard. If something IS wrong. Promise me.”

“I’m not taking off. No matter how tough things get. You can’t get rid of me that easily. It’s going to take either you leaving, or death.”

“Well I know I’m not going anywhere and I hope that last one isn't for a very long time.”

Pulling away, he smooths her hair away from her face and then cradles her cheeks in his palms; thumbs brushing away the river of tears. “Esme, I’m not that guy anymore. The one that runs. I haven’t been him in a long time. Because of you. You changed that. You changed ME.”

“I need you. Not just because of this. Or because of Mark. Because of so many things. I can’t do this without you. This life. I just can’t.”

“You don’t have to. I am right here.” Pressing a kiss to her forehead, his lips linger against the soft, warm skin. “I’m not going anywhere, babe. I’m with you until the end. And I hope that’s a hell of a long time away, too.”

“I didn’t mean to accuse you of still being that way. The guy that runs. I didn’t mean…”

“You have every right to worry about that. I’d worry about it too. I totally get it.”

“I’m scared. Of so many things.”

“Well, me taking off shouldn’t be one of those. That’s not going to happen. Everything else? We’ll handle it. Our track record for getting through hard shit is pretty good. I don’t plan on ruining that. Do you?”

She shakes her head.

“You know what I think we should do? Before we have any more of these conversations? I think we should find out for sure. If there IS a baby. I think that’s where we need to start, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” she sniffles, as gentle, calloused fingertips clean up the last of her tears. “I do. Will you stay with me? While I take it? And while I wait.”

“Like I said,” he places a soft, tender kiss on her lips. “I’m not going anywhere.”

#Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Extraction fan fiction #Chris Hemsworth #Tyler Rake x OF #Chris Hemsworth Extraction #Tyler and Esme series #Extraction fan fic #Tyler Rake fan fic

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chilling-seavey · 3 years

Text

Heartbreak Hotel (d.s.) - Chapter Twenty-Eight

A/N Buckle up for our final chapter of Heartbreak Hotel! This chapter is a long one but it didn’t make sense to split it in half so you get it all in one go! This chapter’s song is Loving You by Elvis (of course).

The manager of the diner was not impressed that Jack and Zach just left mid-shift but they put on their best act that it was a family emergency and soon they were piling into Jack’s car, Loretta taking shotgun and Zach stuck in the back. No one spoke at first as Jack pulled out of the parking lot and headed towards the freeway.

Loretta was leaning her arm on the door, her first pressed to her mouth like she was in deep thought. And she was; having just ended her relationship with her long-term boyfriend within only a few short minutes and now made the reckless decision to travel up the entire state of California to chase after someone she so obviously hurt. It was something so crazy…she had never been so reckless.

“Do either of you know how to get there?” Jack finally asked the other two passengers.

Loretta and Zach both looked at him blankly. That was an answer enough.

He sighed, “Of course you don’t.”

Jack pulled off the road into a gas station to fill up and buy a California road map. The boys looked a little ridiculous in their pink bowties and matching work uniforms and earned a few stares from other shoppers in the gas station, so Loretta purchased the map and a few snacks herself before returning to the car. Once the three of them were settled again with the car filled up and snacks cracked open, Jack finally headed onto the highway.

Loretta skimmed the map in har hand, the large paper spread out across her entire lap and half up the dashboard as she traced it with her finger to find their destination. University of California Berkley. She tapped it a few times when she found it on the map, her stomach twisting with anxiety.

“It’s going to be at least five hours.” Jack said, glancing at the clock on the dash. “We should get there around 8:00.”

Loretta just stared at the map blankly.

“Are you alright?” Jack asked her, flicking his eyes between her and the long spanning highway ahead of them.

Loretta took a deep breath and looked between the two friends, “What if he doesn’t want to see me.”

“No way. This is going to be the best surprise of his life.” Zach assured her.

“I just broke up with Corbyn for him.” Loretta breathed like she didn’t even believe it herself. She leaned her elbow back on the door and ran her hand over her face tiredly.

“And we just ditched our shift for you.” Zach added from the backseat. He stuck out a handful of gummies between the two front seats, “Snacks?”

Loretta turned to him and cracked a small smile, “Thanks.”

She took a few from his hand and tossed them into her mouth before settling back into her seat and looked out the window as the city of Los Angeles faded into farmland. Jack turned on the radio and turned up the volume, filling the car with the most recent hits and Zach sang loudly in the backseat between mouthfuls of candy, draped horizontally across the leather seats. Loretta directed Jack using the map, flipping the paper over to focus on San Francisco as they got closer and the sun started to set behind the horizon.

There was no doubt that all three of their families would be worried sick as they picked up and drove off without telling anyone but Loretta could only hope Corbyn was smart and kind enough to tell her parents where she had gone. Jack and Zach would just have to suffer the repercussions by their parents when they returned home well past midnight. They would have to call from a payphone when they got to the city to at least not have their mothers worry enough to call the police.

Zach had fallen asleep in the backseat by the time they reached San Francisco and darkeness had fallen over the state until the only light was from the lamps on the side of the highway and Jack’s headlights. It was quiet, the radio playing softly in the background and Jack really had to force his eyes to stay open, eventually giving in enough to open the glove box and pull out a pair of glasses. He slid them on with a frustrated sigh and Loretta just stared at him for a moment.

“They suit you.” she stated at his obvious embarrassment.

Jack pulled a small smile in her direction in thanks before turning back to the road.

“What are you going to say to him when you see him?” Jack asked.

“I dunno.” Loretta tucked her feet up on the seat with her, draping her skirt over her legs to keep her decent, “Whatever feels right, I suppose.”

There was a moment of silence, just the radio at low volume and the wind breezing quickly past the car.

“I can’t believe I did that.” Loretta whispered, resting her chin on her arms around her knees as she stared out the window. “I don’t even feel…sad. I dated him for a year and I loved him and I was going to marry him and…I don’t feel sad.”

“Well…he’s not your soulmate.”

“I know. I just thought it would hurt more.”

“Isn’t it good that it doesn’t hurt?”

“Yeah.” Loretta took a deep breath, “I just want to see Daniel.”

Jack glanced at her and then to Zach asleep behind them and then looked back to the road. He adjusted his grip on the steering wheel and pressed his foot a bit harder on the gas pedal, speeding them up into the outskirts of San Francisco.

“I said left, Jack!”

“That was a one-way street! I couldn’t go left!”

“It was not!”

“Golly, you guys are so loud.” Zach grumbled tiredly, sitting up in the backseat, rubbing his eyes as he awoke. “I’m trying to get some shut-eye back here.”

“It’s 8pm, Zach. Is it already past your bedtime?” Loretta teased.

“Damn…feisty.” Zach mumbled defensively.

She smiled lightly and turned back to the map in her hand, “The campus is left. So just turn left somewhere.”

Jack turned at the next intersection, the steep streets of San Francisco hard to navigate at night to the foreigners but they managed to find the stone framed welcome sign, lit up by two spotlights.

University of California Berkeley

Jack slowly stopped the car on the side of the road for a moment. Loretta sighed deeply, biting at her bottom lip as the three of them stared up at the stone sign. Her heart was hammering in her chest as if she had walked all the way from LA or something.

“How are we supposed to find him on this massive campus?” Zach broke their silence first.

“We’ll park and ask around.” Loretta directed, nudging Jack’s shoulder to urge him to keep driving.

They found the main parking lot and all got out, groaning as they finally stretched their legs after such a long journey. Loretta smoothed down her dress as she looked around the campus at the many nearly identical stone buildings draped with ivy and shadowed through the night by large trees. The streetlamp above their car flickered. Jack locked the car and the three of them headed towards the first building they saw: the student centre.

The lights were on inside but there wasn’t a single person around; the welcome desk having been closed for a few hours and everyone already gone home since it was past 8pm. Loretta sighed in frustration for a moment, walking around the foyer as if looking for someone to ask for directions.

“I’m gonna call home before we get started on this quest.” Zach said, pulling a bit of change from his pocket and approached the payphones on the wall across from the desk.

“Me too.” Jack grabbed a quarter from him and they each picked up a phone, ready to be chewed out by their mothers after driving across the entire state at night and alone.

Loretta just took a shaking inhale as she looked around, skimming the empty and dark bookstore and vacant hallways of the unknown campus, Jack and Zach’s voices being the only sound in nearly the entire campus. She felt nervous, a little crazy, and a little hopeless. That was, until the flavour of banana bread rolled its way across her tongue. She fell to a stop, her arms crossed over her chest in concentration, and licked her lips slowly. It tasted good…and fresh. Loretta walked over to the railing that looked down to the lower level and spotted the café at the bottom of the old staircase, lights on and housing a few students by the interior windows.

Daniel passed over his coins to the cashier and thanked him softly, taking his tea and banana bread in return. It was Friday and Daniel was going stir crazy mad alone in his dorm room so he had made his way across campus to the café and a breath of fresh air. Christian was busy, leaving Daniel all alone yet again.

For the near week Daniel had been away at college, he felt so completely drained and he hadn’t even done much. He only had five classes that term and he barely finished a day before just wanting to crash every time he returned to his dorm. He felt miserable and the daily physical reminder of Loretta certainly didn’t help him feel better.

But it was soon Friday and Daniel had no plans for the weekend except sit alone in his room and mope around until he maybe miraculously felt better. Banana bread was the first step. He took a bite as he set his tea on the condiment station and dumped in a pack of sugar. It wasn’t his mother’s banana bread but it was close enough and he groaned pleasantly through his mouthful, stirring his tea with a popsicle stick in his free hand. He tossed the garbage out and grabbed a lid for his tea, struggling a moment to put it on properly with only one hand.

He was so physically and emotionally exhausted that he just huffed in annoyance and tossed the lid out too. It wasn’t worth his effort. Nothing seemed to be anymore. He lifted his banana bread up to take another bite but he was interrupted by a soft call of his name.

The voice felt like a weight was pressed and lifted from his chest all in the same time and he froze for a moment. His head had to be playing tricks on him.

Daniel slowly looked up across the café to see Loretta in the doorway, the glow of the warm light from inside falling across her face and lighting up her soft freckles and beautiful eyes and Daniel swore his heart stopped for a full five seconds.

The café was silent as he tried to fathom if she was really there – all the way in San Francisco. He set his banana bread on the counter beside his drink and turned slowly towards her, the few other students sitting around the café studying not paying either of them a second glance. Daniel and Loretta both took a hesitant step towards each other.

Daniel couldn’t take his eyes off her like she was a figment of his cruelest imagination, and he breathed her name ever so gently, “Loretta.”

With those three soft syllables she was rushing towards him across the café to throw her arms around his shoulders as he stumbled with the impact of her embrace and her lips found his almost magnetically. Instant electricity tore through his whole body, the warmest most blissful indescribable tingles right down to the tips of his toes and the top of his head. His arms wrapped right around her back, kissing her strongly in return with this desperation he didn’t know he had in him. He didn’t want to stop even if it felt like his heart was going to beat right out of his chest.

Loretta’s hands clung onto the back of his collared shirt and one to the back of his neck to keep his lips on hers for as long as she possibly could. Nothing but the warmest fire engulphed them, keeping them pressed chest to chest in the middle of the campus café, lips locked, and deep passionate kisses shared like they had been deprived of each other’s touch for their whole lives.

In a sense, they had.

Daniel pulled back first to breathe, gasping lightly for air as his hands slid over her hips and their eyes met behind pink cheeks. Her fingers massaged lightly through the back of his hair and she leaned up to close the space between them once more, intoxicatingly addicted to the taste of his lips on hers.

“Loretta.” Daniel breathed into her mouth, gently setting a hand on her shoulder to separate them again. “What are you doing here? Why…”

Her hands slid down his chest as his words abandoned him in his shock and her fingers gripped gently to the light blue material of his shirt, “I was so ridiculous to ever think that I could stay away from you. You’re my other half. My other half of my heart and the other half of my soul.”

Daniel’s hands raised to her cheeks and pulled her lips on his again. His whole body felt like it was floating, riding on the pure innocent bliss that came with the universe finally being at peace and they both exhaled deeply out of it, arms wrapping around each other in a tight embrace. Loretta tucked her face in his neck and Daniel could have sworn his stomach filled with butterflies, tightening his arm around her waist and his other pet over her dark hair, not wanting to let go ever again. His eyes looked past her to the entranceway to the café and Jack and Zach stood smiling in the open door in their matching light pink diner uniforms. They sent their best friend a knowing nod to say that no ‘thank you’s needed to be said and Daniel just bit back his cheesy grin and nuzzled into Loretta’s neck.

She smelt like strawberries.

The End

#🍓#and yes daniel finished his banana bread dw #he shared it with her ofc #why dont we #soulmate au #daniel seavey #1950s #soulmate!wdw #daniel seavey fanfic #why dont we fanfic #wdw #au

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ohblackdiamond · 3 years

Text

curved air (ace/peter, nc-17)

They didn’t do it every single night on tour. Just a lot of nights. Peter wasn’t even sure when it had started—it had to have been early on, when they were still sharing rooms. But at some point, years ago, he and Ace and Paul had started showering together after the show.

Notes: For @planet-neun. Merry Christmas, and I’m sorry I’m a day late, as usual!

It had been a brilliant show.

Even now, a month into the reunion tour, Peter couldn’t quite believe how brilliant. How invigorating. How many people. The kids—kids younger than Jennilee, out there on their dads’ shoulders, wearing their makeup. The college girls, their hair and clothes so different from all those years prior, but their wants the same as ever—he wasn’t as interested in them as he used to be, but it was still a thrill just to see them there. Five or six of them had tossed bras up at the stage, and Gene and Paul had collected them like trophies, gleefully hooking them to their mic stands during the show. Like they’d never seen them before, when Peter knew they had. Gene had even brought the bra with the biggest cups backstage, half-jokingly telling a roadie to find the owner, like a demented version of Cinderella’s glass slipper.

The want was more exciting than the money. Seeing so many peoples’ faces lighting up. No one had wanted to see him in so long. He remembered the clubs and bars he’d been reduced to. Even when he’d been on tour with Ace last year, the crowds were nothing, less than nothing, in comparison. Almost no one had asked for his autograph in years, outside of the convention circuit, and now—

It was surreal. A second shot. He wouldn’t waste it. He couldn’t.

The one thing he’d been scared would hold him back wasn’t yet. The pain in his arms hadn’t been bad enough to affect his performances. He was trying, desperately, to prevent it however he could. He’d started dipping his arms in big bowls of ice immediately after getting off the stage. He had all sorts of wraps, too. None of the cortisone injections like he’d had in the seventies. The idea was, these days, to try to treat the pain and stiffness as naturally as possible, and he hoped to limit himself to over-the-counter anti-inflammatories, if he had to take anything. He’d be really careful.

His arms were still a bit pink from the ice. He rubbed at them absently, rolling up the sleeves of his bathrobe. He hadn’t stripped out of the costume and paint yet, the sweat making both stick to him like a second skin. He was waiting. Next to him, leaning against the wall and nursing a can of what Peter hoped was actually Pepsi, Ace was, too.

“Where’s Paul?” Ace asked. Peter had only seen him backstage briefly after the show. Gene was gone, too, but that was expected; he’d always head straight back to the hotel to bang groupies. He’d never been part of their post-concert routine. “Isn’t he hanging around?”

“I thought I saw him talking to Pam earlier.”

“That’s been at least fifteen minutes.” Ace hesitated, rubbing at his mouth with the back of his hand. Peter watched him blink at the black lipstick smear left on his skin, then laugh quietly, almost to himself. “She didn’t look too thrilled.”

That was an understatement. Paul’s wife had looked mildly humiliated after every concert so far.

“He’s probably cheating on her.”

“Fuck, he’s been cheating on her. But now he’s got lots better pickings than he used to.” Ace put his finger to his lips again, smudging away the lipstick at the cener. “’S different.”

“Cheating’s cheating.”

“Nah, man, I mean… he’s different, we’re different.” Ace took a swallow of his drink. Peter stepped up closer, trying to get a whiff of what was in the can without being obvious about it. Ace needed to knock it off. For Monique’s sake if not for his own. Keep his addictions more than an arm’s length away. Pete had done it more than ten years ago now. But Ace just seemed to keep on and keep on. It felt worse now than it used to, now that he saw him every day. It was like watching a man drown in an inch of water. “It’s not just the crowds. The show makes us different.”

“What do you mean?”

“You think Paulie’d be smacking his own ass onstage if he didn’t have the paint on?” Ace didn’t give him a chance to respond. “Nah. Pam’s not, y’know, used to that side of him.”

“The only side I see of him onstage is his ass. He’s not turning around like he used to.”

“Aw, Petey. Lemme make it up to you.”

Ace set the drink down on the table. Peter grabbed it, taking a sip, relieved when the only thing he tasted was Pepsi. Ace’s expression was unreadable at first, before the right side of his mouth raised up just slightly in a smile.

“I ain’t doing so bad. I promise. You wanna wait on him?”

It took a second before Peter realized what Ace meant. He hesitated, uncertain. If Paul and Pam were really having a row, Paul wouldn’t be back, ritual be damned. Part of him wanted to wait despite that. The rest of him wanted to step out of his sweaty spandex as soon as possible.

“Let’s just go. Any longer and this shit’ll be glued to my skin.”

“Wouldn’t be that bad a look,” Ace said, and clapped an arm around his shoulder. “C’mon.”

It would get pretty stupid. They’d done all sorts of comparisons on each others’ dicks, hard and flaccid. Soap-dropping. Smacking each other with washcloths. And they’d fooled around—sure, they’d all fooled around. It was if the shower was just another barrier to the real world. Like the inverse of Superman’s phone booth. Painted monsters coming in, regular guys coming out, with no one aware of the process in-between.

Peter had been surprised when the band showers resumed. Thought Paul would demure out of ego, not wanting the other two to see him stripped bare sixteen years on. But he’d been all for it. They hadn’t screwed around, just teased each other about the gut that those workout regimens hadn’t gotten rid of, but that was all right. It was fun. Reassuring. It felt good to know there was still a piece of the old times that really was just for them, a piece that had nothing to do with summoning up someone else’s nostalgia. It felt really good.

They’d usually use the showers by the dressing room, rather than the hotel. Ace would step in first, tinkering with the temperature, and then Peter, with Paul following behind. Twenty minutes easy of soaping up and shooting the shit. Which reminded Peter—

“You bring a pack of razors?”

“Said they’re in the shower.” Ace crooked another small grin. “They got everything ready for us right here whether we used ’em or not. Even the cold cream. Rider’s a mile long.”

“I can’t remember the last time I had a rider worth anything.”

“I can.” The velcro made an almost itchy sound as Ace, as blase about nudity as ever, peeled away the vest of his costume, tossing it on a chair for wardrobe to gather up later before starting on his boots, socks, and the leotard beneath. Wardrobe. They actually had wardrobe. A month in and it was still unbelievable. Peter inhaled sharply, then tugged off his shoes and socks, his bullet-belt of a vest. Stepped out of the leotard. The relief was almost instant, the cool air a balm on his sticky skin as they padded barefoot to the shower. “Last time I was with you.”

They really did have the cold cream there in a huge, personalized caddy in each shower stall. Had regular makeup removal wipes, too, and a fat stack of white towels of various sizes. Six different shampoos. Body wash. Acne cleanser. Bar soap. Loofahs. Razors. Condoms. Lube. God, and this wasn’t even the hotel. They didn’t even know whether KISS would even use the showers on-premises. He would’ve expected all this excess sixteen years ago. Now, it never failed to impress him. Never failed at all.

He picked up a washcloth and the cold cream out of habit and preference, unscrewing the jar and taking it with him back to the sink. One illusion he could take care of pretty quickly. He could hear Ace turning on the shower, and he waited, half-expecting Ace to call him in, but he didn’t. Instead, Ace headed over to the sink just as Peter dipped his fingers into the thick cream.

“Hold on, man.”

“What for?”

“Lemme give you a hand.” Ace scooped up some of the cream and started to spread it across Peter’s face. Messy dollops on his forehead, cheeks, and chin, before Ace rubbed it in properly with his fingers, the cream smearing away the paint, gradually exposing his skin. Ace smiled a little bit as he traced the tips of his fingers against Peter’s cheeks, turning the whiskers into smudged, blotchy ovals, and then nothing at all.

“Paint doesn’t hide as much as I thought it did,” Peter said dryly, after a glance in the mirror. Ace was still working on getting rid of the makeup, casually, slowly.

“You still look pretty good under there, y’know.”

“I’m fifty.”

“We can round down.” Ace took the washcloth, wet it, and wiped away the excess on his cheeks. “Close your eyes for me.”

Peter did. A second and Ace’s cream-coated fingers were carefully rubbing at the paint on his eyelids, spreading it out and up, towards his eyebrows and forehead.

“I never thought I’d be back to doing this at fifty. It’s… it’s far out, isn’t it? I still can’t believe it.” If the outdated turn of phrase bothered Ace any, he didn’t say anything, and Peter could feel the cloth against his eyelids next, just as gentle. “I can’t talk about it with Gene and Paul. They don’t get it.”

“They get it a lot better than you think.”

“Nah, nah. They…” Peter trailed, trying to come up with the right words as Ace kept wiping away his makeup. He wasn’t even mad at the other two for not getting it. He just wanted to explain. “They’ve been in that world so long. They dunno what it’s like to be down to nothing.”

“They’ve got a good idea. Maybe it was worse for them.”

“Worse? Are you serious? Come off it, Ace, they’re neck-deep in Hollywood bullshit and yes-men, they never—”

“This wasn’t just our last chance, Petey. It was theirs, too.” Ace didn’t elaborate any further. Peter opened his eyes, and saw Ace rinsing off the washcloth in the tap. The remnants of cream mixed with black greasepaint left a gray streak in the sink.

“I’ll get your makeup for you, Ace.”

“S’okay, I’ll get it.”

“No, I--”

“Don’t want you holding your arms up anymore than you gotta.”

A slight warmth started up somewhere in Peter’s stomach as he shook his head.

“It’s not so bad. Nothing like it used to be. C’mon, let me.”

Ace bit his lip, then nodded.

“Okay. But in the shower, yeah? There’s something else I wanna get up to.”

He tried to be careful, taking Ace’s makeup off. Ace was still mixing up some kind of powder for the silver starbursts, one that bothered his eyes. The cold cream almost melted between his fingers from the steam of the shower before he could even get it on Ace’s face, sliding off easily. He didn’t look so bad under the greasepaint. Not so bad at all, but there was a tiredness along with that old eerie awareness now. It was too early in the tour for Ace to be tired. Too early for Ace to be worried.

Peter kissed him as soon as the last remnants of makeup were washed away, on down to the lipstick. Ace returned the kiss almost immediately, looping an arm around him, pulling him close. They lingered like that awhile, under the spray of the shower, quiet and warm and wet. Then Ace, less lethargic and lackadaisical than usual, mouthed along his throat while his hand reached for Peter’s dick.

“Takes longer than it used to,” Peter warned, as if it’d really been that long since they’d last messed around. Maybe it’d been years since the last shower ritual had ended in handjobs and blowjobs, but it hadn’t been more than three days since the last time Ace’s body had ended up against his. Ace just winked.

“I got the time if you got the money, Cat.”

His hand was familiar. It felt the same as ever wrapped around his cock, pumping absently. Only the backdrop was different. Peter grunted, let Ace slowly ease him backwards until he felt the cool wall tile against his skin. His breath hitched as Ace worked him up to full attention. No hurry. Never any hurry. Not even in those shitty motels from ’74, the ones that ran out of hot water less than five minutes in. He and Paul would hop out, cursing and shivering, but Ace would just cackle once it turned cold. He acted like they always had all the time in the world to come.

The onslaught of water wasn’t direct now, just stray droplets amid the steam. Ace’s grip slacked off almost as abruptly as it had begun, as he sunk down to his knees in front of him, hands tracing his thighs.

He’d watched Ace take him in hundreds of times before. More times than he’d watched Ace’s knees buckle to the floor during the show. Down-down-down. It didn’t mean anything there. It meant something here, here in this in-between space, where all the magic of spandex and greasepaint faded and left them as they were, flawed and ordinary. It always would.

Peter’s hands found Ace’s soaked hair, pushing the wet strands back from his face. He closed his eyes again, and smiled.

#kiss the band #kiss fanfiction #ace frehley x peter criss #ace frehley #peter criss

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