#the way he glared with utmost rage??? the way she smiled in relief when she saw he was ok because TO HELL that she would ever let him get

[sunflowersseemhappy]

If you're up for it, Imagine the main 6 having a premonition of sorts about the apprentice dying and they do the utmost best to ensure it never happens but when the time comes they realize all their preparations to stop the death actually causes the death of the apprentice. Bonus is if they have to deal with the apprentice dying in front of them and they can’t do anything about it and the apprentice doesn’t look at them with any malic or rage. Just a sad, resignation, but their expression makes it clear that they don’t blame the cast for what happened.

This is probably a bit different from what you’re expecting anon but I hope you like it and crying. I definitely have to be in the mood for angst but I think I needed these to have an essence of hope at the end (especially in these times). Wishing you all well!

There’s mentions of blood but not any detail!

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED but here is my Masterlist!

Asra

Asra’s heart in in his throat, he’s screaming at the nightmare so terrifying it feels like it will never end.

No relief comes to Asra when he wakes up.

Only dread, something telling him not to ignore it, maybe he should though. After all it was only a nightmare...

It's the first nightmare he doesn’t tell you about and that is the first of many mistakes he makes.

Asra wants to believe he can fix this, he’s become stuck in the past again, stuck living in a time that doesn’t exist.

If only he had looked forward.

Now he’s living his nightmare, and worst of all he wasn’t there. Just like the Lazaret he’s too late, but he’s not screaming.

He’s begging and crying, telling you this was his fault, telling you to stay, don’t leave him again, he can’t handle it.

As he cradles you in his lap you give him a resigned smile and trace his cheek, and you beg of him back.

“Don’t keep looking back Asra, it’ll only hurt. Move forward and have a life for me, you can tell me about it when we see each other once more.”

Asra’s glad of those final words, he didn’t get them before.

The shop stays empty, but once a year a white haired magician returns to Vesuvia and to the shop laying flowers at the door and the whole of the city knows Asra is living a life but will never forget who he’s living it for.

Nadia

It’s the first vision Nadia has that remains unclear, her intuition warning her yet keeping the knowledge just out of sight.

She knows it has something to do with you and she worries so.

Because she could hear the wailing, see the blood, feel her heart beating chaotically in her chest.

Against all reason she does nothing, not beacuse she doesn’t care but because she does not understand what lies ahead.

She falls into the trap of her own self-doubt, past ghosts coming to haunt her, telling her nothing has happened and not to worry.

And the day comes when that vision comes to pass and it is so much worse than she expected because she understands.

All of it, it was her voice wailing, your blood, her heart beating against her chest in fear and anxiety as she calls for help and wipes the blood from your lips with the sleeve of her dress.

She’s failed you again, ignoring the signs and standing by, she wonders why she ever believed she could be a good ruler, a good partner.

You grip Nadia’s hands and give her a determined look, you still believe in her, your eyes say as much.

“I know this hurts Nadia, but like everything it’s a lesson worth learning. You’re going to be the wisest ruler Vesuvia has ever had...I’m so proud of you, you’re going to be great.”

Nadia would trade all her wisdom to have you back.

The palace is a melancholy place, ruled by a wise Countess who ensures personally that everyone of her subjects is happy and they in turn share their happiness with her but she will never forget her true happiness with a magician's apprentice who gave her the greatest wisdom of all.

Julian

Julian puts all his belief into thinking that was just a nightmare, or his mind running just a little too wild during the boring hours of the night.

But those images, blurred at the sides of his hands covered in blood, hair falling in his face, gritted teeth and harsh breathing enclose him with an icy chill.

No matter how much he drinks that won’t leave him and Julian begins to believe that at some point this will be his fault. He’ll do or say something that causes those images and that pain.

Julian pretends everything is alright, but he’s distancing himself for the time being, maybe that will help.

Julian wishes he had been with you when this happened, there's a startling clarity with that nightmare.

His vision blurred by tears, his hands pressing against the bloody wound, his hair falling maddingly in his face, gritting his teeth and breathing harshly because he can’t fix this...

He’s always been so calm in the face of death but it's different because it's you and he’s not ready and he’s so sorry he pushed you away.

You give him an understanding nod.

“Julian... it’s okay, you’re going to be okay. Just don’t push anyone away anymore please, keep everyone close. You never know when you’ll lose those close to you, it’s important for them to know how much you love them just as I know how much you love me.”

Julian wonders if he loved you enough.

The good doctor does as he’s told, he keeps his friends and family close to his heart and loves them endlessly. Julian never pushes anyone away again, their love lies in his heart next to the memory of a magician who never once gave up on him.

Muriel

Muriel is no stranger to nightmares, especially ones of him losing you but this one definitely feels too real.

Bodies pressed together, something damp on his cheeks, probably tears, and he’s shaking with rage, terror, pain?

Muriel wonders if there's anything he can do but maybe that’s the point, his subconscious telling him he’s worrying too much.

Or not worrying enough.

Muriel feels himself falling down that rabbit hole, trusting only himself to do things properly to make things okay to keep you from harm.

Keeping you from doing the things you say you need to do and it becomes too much one day and then it happens and...

It’s his fault, Muriel has tried so hard to keep you safe that his actions have caused this.

His body hunched over yours as if he could still protect you, and that’s blood damp on his cheek not just tears and he’s shaking in remorse as he whimpers against you.

He doesn’t want to be without this, you. Muriel can see the regret in your eyes that you’re leaving him but also a dear smile.

“You are so strong Muriel, I’m so glad I got to see that. Keep being strong, protect others and know you can protect and love yourself. Our friends need that, the world needs that.”

Muriel’s so sure the last of his strength would be buried with you.

But if anything it grows stronger, the hermit becoming a hermit no longer, being strong and loving and honest. The meadow outside the hut is filled with laughter and people who enjoy his company, never alone. Even when they all leave for the evening Muriel is never alone, carrying the strength of a magician who taught him what true strength really is.

Portia

Portia is already crying when she escapes the vision, shaken to her core recalling the hopelessness, the loss of her own thought.

Her head was pressed against something at one point, she could see the eyes but the world was grey, silent all around her, fabric bunched in her hands as tears streamed down her face.

She’s never known such terror.

For a moment the world felt devoid of joy.

She tells you as much as you hold her, and as you hush her and bring joy to Portia’s face once again Portia realizes...

There would be no joy in the world if you were not here.

Portia becomes worrisome, she thinks less of adventure and fun and more about knowing you’re safe.

She’s frantic and sleepless, placing herself in harm's way before even thinking just to keep you safe.

And when that day comes, the one that had felt unavoidable the world truly does feel joyless.

Her head is pressed up against yours looking into those eyes, they were grey in her vision she didn’t want to believe they belonged to you and the world is deadly silent in her ears as she sniffles into your clothes.

The last few weeks she’s lost so much joy and here goes the last piece, you smooth out her curls with a wide smile.

“Oh Portia, I really loved our adventures I wish we could have gone on more. I know... how about you go and have more without me? You’d be a great pirate queen. I’m sure you’ll make lots of people very happy, you always made me so happy. Always.”

And for a little while Portia forgets what joy feels like.

But one day a spark finds her and Portia’s been chasing it ever since, traveling the world and bringing joy to all and there are lots of adventures. There are many whisperings in Vesuvia of what became of Portia Devorak, only a few know the truth, she’s living every adventure before her and tells the greatest stories about the magician at her side.

Lucio

Lucio’s been though and seen a lot of terrifying things but that vision is by far the worst, he very suddenly feels dread build in his chest.

And he doesn’t know what seemed worse the feeling of a limp body in his arms, the fluttering heartbeat against his chest or the vision of himself reflected in a pool of crimson.

His defences are up, Lucio spends nights staying awake watching over you with hesitation in his muscles.

No one gets near you under his protective glare.

Lucio begins to think it was just his mind wandering, it's not going to happen he decides one day he’s sure of it.

He’s protected you and shielded you and that night he decides to celebrate with you (although you’re sure to be curious what you’re celebrating.

But celebration never comes.

Only Lucio carrying you unsteady in his arms, your body limp and heartbeat fluttering against his chest, Lucio’s own heart feels dead in his chest as he stares down at his reflection in the pool of blood.

He was so adamant he could shoulder this burden himself, but that was yet another mistake he’s made.

You should be angry, you have every right to look at him that way but instead your eyes hold admiration and hope.

“You’re so different now, I almost don’t recognize you. You’ve changed for the better Lucio, don’t let that go okay? Don’t be afraid to make your mistakes, but please learn from them, accept them. You’ll be a better person for it, a hero, my hero.”

Lucio never wanted to be anyone's hero but yours.

Each of his day’s the former count of Vesuvia travels across the land, he can be brash and roguish but tales are told about his heroics of slaying monsters and tilling fields to help the farmers. He lives each day learning from mistakes and wondering if his cute magician is proud of him and they are.

#the arcana #julian #asra #nadia #muriel #portia #lucio #apprentice #headcanon #angst

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

Chapter 14 (Witcher of the Night)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.

UPDATES FOR WITCHER OF THE NIGHT WILL BE PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY NOW IN MY TIME (GMT +8)

CHAPTER 13.1 (PREVIOUS CHAPTER)

WITCHER OF THE NIGHT MASTERLIST

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: NSFW. 18+ Geralt tried his best to resist. With Destiny sitting on her throne, utterly anticipating for how the witcher would react to your rut. She won the game this time because Geralt of Rivia was a lone man who couldn't say no to a woman who was thirsty for what the Djinn has held her in, especially when this woman was you.

Warnings: Size kink? Cockwarming? Insecure reader. Unprotected sex but no worries because it's Geralt? The long awaited smut. Smol tittie reader? (Respect to the big tittie committee, please do donate some to us!) Frustrated Geralt and reader. Wet Geralt? He's in the tub okay! 😂💕 Loss of virginity. NSFW. 18+. Explicit words. They’re both in a rut on this one. This is basically just smut before the plot shifts.

Words: 7.8k

A/N: STARTED FROM THE BOTTOM NOW WE HERE 😎 GET WRECKED, MIDGET! Also, SCREAM FOR ME, BB'S! I know y'all are waiting for this moment to shine! xD I've realized that the next smut after this is more explicit than Chapter 14. So, get ready for that as well. Most GIF’s are from (demivampirew) 💕

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE! Sorry for the grammatical errors and such because English isn’t my mother tongue!

Disclaimer: PNG’s used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. However, the edits and oneshots are definitely from moi 

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

Geralt's touches nearly pacified the scathing heat surging through your body. Your head that was nuzzling in between his neck helps soothe the pain. Howbeit, with Geralt; he was feeling rather tormented especially when the simple intimacy was winding the witcher up in a very hellish way.

The tip of your nose brushing against that part of his neck that had him turning rigid was driving him insane. Just your nose perched in the curvatures of his neck made the tent even more bigger, thoroughly agrestal and waiting to be unshackled from its pound.

Your satisfied sighs, breath that brushed and tickled his skin had received a deep timbre of warning from the man whom you were precariously desiring for. The way your breath touched his skin made his jaw clench so tight as he brought you up stairs, surrounding you in his rugged arms that you also wanted to kiss, wondering how strong it looks like once he was disrobed.

You never had seen Geralt in the raw. The way his clothes strains on top of his Herculean body was enough vision that he was utterly jacked; shredded and a man whom made your reticence plummet down the sewers like it has never been there before, the sexual longing and curiosity filling the void of lechery that has been furtively hidden and was now growing in absolute masses because of how one man can ruin that sobriety you have been holding dear.

When you were gently dropped down to your feet, torrid kisses and passionate touches were expected; but the way he'd stepped away to tell you that you needed a bath to take the heat away had your head turning hotter from how he wasn't dealing with your ache just like the way you wanted him to.

It was better if he joined, you asked him that but his silence was enough of an answer that he wouldn't despite of how you've noticed the wolf that rested in between his leather pants, waiting to be released from its cage and find relief in between that hollow cave you've been dying to be visited at.

"Midget..." the white haired witcher was belligerent as he seethed, giving you a frown because of how uncooperative you were becoming; turning hostile as much as you can get.

Geralt took a step closer, his actions appearing to be quite the contrary of his words when he'd tried to grab onto the hem of your sweater before you immediately jerked away; maddened for your wishes to be dismissed like he wasn't feeling the same way. You were desperate now. You understood and knew what relief that the pain needed to take.

"Stop touching me! I'm not going to undress myself in front of you, Geralt! I want you! Not a bath!" you loudly snapped, voice definitely ear-piercing by how you wanted to be followed; shaking the tranquil night away from your antagonism.

The way you've jerked away from him had dropped down more frustration to himself and to you as well. You've wanted nothing but to be in his arms, kissing him, touching anywhere you haven't touched, exploring the deepest depths of him that you haven't discovered. Geralt lowly groaned, his mouth in a tight lour that simply tells you he was utmost pissed-off from your resistance.

"Cease the mulish act even just for tonight!" he barked rather furiously, teeth gritted together with his eyebrows tightly curved in a way that alarmed you that he seemed to also be in pain; struggling with the appetite he seemed to be famished with, the cravings he desired standing before him whom also had the same wishes in her mind.

"Oh! now, I'm the one stubborn?! Why don't you do it for yourself too, Mr. stubborn-pants!? Why don’t you cease the mulish act even just for tonight, huh?!" you sent a snark, glaring back at the infuriated witcher. His eyes were burning in aggravation and midnight, dilated in a process of telling you he was in mania. Carnal manias. Geralt emitted a feral growl; in distress for himself, what was happening to him and also to your inflexible decisions.

"---and also cease the fucking crabbiness!" he snarled out loud.

The heat stirring below your belly wasn't helping his exasperation towards the situation at hand. His enraged demeanor stirring a strong prurient desire that sat between your legs, making you cross them together as you've continued your narks; trying to get under his skin. Literally or figuratively.

Your nose was flaring and so was his, emotions riling up your mind as you truthfully snapped the grudging feelings out in the open; freely for Geralt to hear and react upon.

"Stop caring like you're actually fond of me when you're not!"

"You're in pain!" the white haired witcher was quick to bark, hands on his sides and tightening them into tight fists as he mindlessly raked your ungraceful form; dilated pupils and your legs crossed like the heat was starting to pool down your pants. You were aroused alright.

Hence, Geralt knew that, sensed that. He could smell you from afar and the scent that naturally dripped from you was far more better than the Lemon and Peony he'd been thoroughly accustomed with.

It was heating him up; a lot more than he ever felt, if that was even possible.

You've given him a black look, teeth clenched together as you were hopping mad. The words that came out of your mouth seeming to be a sudden slip of your tongue.

"It's all your genie's fault and I'm blaming the Djinn again for even letting me fall for you hard because apparently, in your oh-so-silent witcher perspective; all that I’m feeling had magical or supernatural explanations! Thank you for letting me realize that, sir! I really needed that subtle rejection!"

The witcher blinked, his stance thoroughly livid. Back tense and piping warm as his heated gaze was solely on your enraged, elfin self. Your candor stirring and kindling with the fire that was sipping through his veins, wanting nothing but to strafe your lips with passionate kisses he'd fantasized about, exploring fascinating chasms and cavities that has never been traversed yet.

You were hot under the collar, completely seething as you've given him the most nasty lour you could. Still, being pigheaded from what you wanted, trying to furiously explain to him that you needed a different kind of relief that involved intercourse and not a lame bath. He couldn't help but try to soothe his displeasure by fluttering his amber eyes shut, controlled breathing slipping through his flaring nose as he lowly seethed.

"You need to calm down!---Stop shouting."

Your indignant self was awakening something barbarous within him, violently rousing the thirst that has been there from the start and he was certain that if you push harder, he may never be able to control.

Not anymore.

Severe profanities tripped out of your tongue, the profound sensations and feelings consuming you too much; more so difficult to handle as the clock ticks by with Geralt who stood maddened and raging with such desire that he appeared to be in denial about. His glowing amber eyes piercing through the piety of your soul, begging nothing but to corrupt you in any way despite of his refusal to accept.

"Don't go all alpha-shit on me, Geralt! I'm shouting because I'm in pain! I'm fucking frustrated, sad, weirdly thrilled, very infuriated because of your foolishness and I don't even know the fuck why!"

Your sudden impiety had the witcher cocking his head to the side, feeling his leather pants grow tighter by how you've spat those words with such a harsh tone when he shouldn't be feeling things by being cursed back by a midget who he'd seen to be vindicated and a little bit demented for his sanity.

"I know you're in pain!" Geralt fumed, heavily swallowing the discomfort from his thrilled, angered excitement for what was about to come.

You've growled, sounding rather a bit dinky for the latter like a kitten who was livid and trying to scratch a big dog. If you were trying to be intimidating, then it was totally a failure because it only got him more charmed than he ever was before.

"You don't know that, Geralt! Because, it's not happening to you!"

He angrily shook his head, heavily marching to where you stood till he was looming before you like a lion to its prey, utterly intimidating as his gaze was smoldering your core. The dampness of your panties making you wary of Geralt's effect on you when he isn't even doing anything but be mad. It was nutty to even feel aroused from his lambasting; getting thrilled and excited by his livid state? You were probably going bonkers.

"It is!" the enraged, white haired witcher roared, peering down at you as your feet ceaselessly stepped backwards till your spine hit a wooden; storage cabinet that was a lot higher than you, he trapped you in between his presence and the cabinet. Nonetheless, still galvanized for his fit of pique.

You were spitting false assumptions to his face because you never know what forbidding and rapturous sensations you were giving him. Hence, it was like you both were sharing each other's anger and frustrations. Your breath hitched when his abrasive, thick fingers caught your hips as he thoroughly hunched down to your level. The haze in his Aurum eyes making you catch a breath as a spark of flame utterly triggered the enthusiasm.

"I can feel what you feel and it's driving me fucking insane!"

Before you even know it, his rough padded fingers brushed onto your heated skin; oblivious of his ardent fingers that has slipped under your sweater, swiftly hauling you on top of the cabinet with ease as it felt a loud thud from his abrupt, hurried gestures.

"Geralt!" you loudly shrieked when he carried you; eyes bulging out of its eye sockets, not due to fear but utmost jubilant that you were ceasing yourself from grinning back at the glaring witcher because your carnal self was loving where the crossness was heading. Yet, you still chose to kindle with the raging fire that he had in him, stirring the witcher up more than you could ever do; bringing it out of him for you to succeed.

"That's bullshit! What are we? soulmates? a freakin' soulmate AU? Feeling what I feel like our hearts are connected? Some fantasy fanfic where you magically become my destiny when I somehow teleported in your world?!"

You were now in-level with him; close enough, but he still had the leverage to look down on your face. The gaze in his eyes intensified, to the point that it was telling you how much he wanted to ravish you in so many ways.

With the way how you were smart mouthing him and the desperation in your sentences was working him up more than how those women in the brothels do. Just one word from you could wind him up in sinful ways.

Geralt tightly kept his pretty mouth shut, his gaze too penetrating as you could feel your heat twitching and moist to the point that you were soaking in ways you've never known it would despite of how you've not used your fingers in this one. Which explains how Geralt's presence was too overwhelming for a midget's heart and vagina.

Your words were obviously a conflict to how you've uncorked the lock of your legs, slightly unfastening them open till Geralt took a brooding step close to fill in the gap. The proximity rather fatal for your palpitating heart and raging fire that surrounded you both.

His fingers teased and witlessly glided along your imperfectly pouched belly, making you softly gasp from his touches as you've both shared heaving breaths. Your eyes connected with his in a way that got you wanting to hyperventilate from the choking tension you both have given to each other. You couldn't help yourself but shiver from Geralt's languid thumbs that brushed along the tubby curvatures of your waist; along the parts that has given you self-doubt because it was a body flaw that was quite difficult to erase.

Your mind wasn't thinking straight. It was in a whirlwind that no any other man could give with only his eyes staring straight into your soul. Tantalizing, wild and unchaste. The small stumble of words was enough to give Geralt the upper hand, knowing that only one touch was enough to make you feel like jello as he stood in between those unlatched legs of yours, waiting to be taken in any way that won't make you form any coherent words nor make you remember your own name.

"Stop...stop staring at me like that. You don't even like me that deep; for you to know what I'm feeling right now,"

You've avoided looking at him in the eye, your abashed state still passing through every now and then because it was what makes you, yourself. The timorous tone of your voice sounded titillating in the witcher's perspective as it stirred him up even more, wanting and urgently waiting to be free from the leather constrains that his pants locked him in.

His tender, teasing touches heightened your senses as it was the only thing you focus on as it brushed against your skin like a pencil to its paper, light and delicate. You were heedless of his other hand that moved under your sweater, his rough thumb and index finger giving you a spark of tingles when he'd lightly held your chin, ushering you to stare into his glowing amber eyes that captured your heart since the night he saved you.

The dimples of his nose caressed your plump cheeks, nuzzling the side of your face that gave such delectation of shivers through your spine; his breath was warm and impending as it fanned your ear, turning your body stiff as he gravelly whispered so closely to your ear.

"You don't get to decide nor tell me that you know what I'm feeling when you're uncertain of the verity," he apprised, taking a brief pause as you could feel the tickling tip of Geralt's nose nestling between the back of your ear, ponderously breathing in your scent that makes him feel like he was in paradise.

You could feel your heart thumping out of your chest, the hurried heartbeat of your heart ringing in your ears as it felt like molten lava pouring down on you both when Geralt seem to finally give in to your wishes.

He was a man, an amorous one, indeed. Hence, a tiny woman whom he was smitten with? Begging for a nooky? Well, why would he even be too obstinate to reject such bliss?

Your eyes immediately fluttered closed, teeth biting the insides of your cheeks as you were utterly thrilled. The voices who had been whispering inside your head has died down from the moment you both have shared the peeve out of the boiling kettle. Breathing turned erratic, thoughts quickly moving down south as Geralt heavily breathed against your ear.

You knew you were done for when he'd fondled with the hem of your sweater; those thick, sleek fingers of his, slithering higher and higher till you could never think straight; towards a place no one has ever did just yet and you were gladly letting him explore you in places you have never been touched.

His name clouded inside your head like a bell ringing from a church. Geralt's comforting warmth seething through your senses as you've felt him plant one soft kiss on the back of your ear, igniting a sensual whimper out of you that got him heavily breathing. The witcher's mind pooling with debauched thoughts for you.

And so, he let the palpable sensations control him for once; maybe not once, if he was given the chance again, letting his emotions get the best of him as he finally let go and like a warning, he rasped; "---you are asking a lot from me that not any other person could seek for a witcher,"

"---Yet, here I am; standing before you, succumbing to your wishes and trying to think of ways to help you overcome your struggles despite of knowing the repercussions, midget."

Based on how he'd let his gorgeous head fall in between the crevice of your neck, tempestuously giving your skin starved, open mouth kisses; those adorable fangs you've adored having its way as it was giving your neck a delicate bite every once in a while, you knew you were in for a delightful night.

The Djinny-Djinn-Djinn would surely be worth it.

Warm water pooled just below the lower parts of your bodies. Bare bodies submerged beneath till it stopped before your chests. Awning whatever it is that was needed to be sheltered. The abrupt reserved demeanor dawning on you every now and then when you were reminded why you've acted the way you were before, like a desperate animal that was needed breeding. But, the pain that stung in your chest was enough reminder that it was a needed reason for Geralt to just do it.

You have covertly imagined how Geralt would be crafted. Heedful to be expecting a brobdingnagian man molded like one of Michael Angelo's fine pieces or a painting made by Vincent Vann Gogh; utterly a prepossessing sight which needed to be reminded for yourself that you still needed to breathe.

Geralt of Rivia's birthday suit could wholly take a woman or man's breath away; you were gawking and he'd caught your sly peepers, gaping at the lofty man who was undressing while you sat in the end of the tub has got him humming in interest.

The vision of himself who was stripping his clothes off brought you in hell and also in heaven. He had his back turned away as he peeled his black tunic off him in one go; the gesture sucking all of your breath in your lungs, giving you a harsh whiplash when you've seen his wide shoulders and his sinewy upper body in the flesh, your heat pulsing with just the image of the witcher who was shedding his clothes off in idle; the zeal growing much more impatient as minutes pass by.

You were going to get wrecked tonight.

Your faint clearing of your throat resonated in the room when you've seen his fingers move through the front of his pantaloons, never wanting to snap your head away because seeing him strip fascinates you in so many ways; marveling at the sight of his chiseled, stark naked form. Your alter ego asking God how he was perfectly imperfect with those disfigurements that has wallowed up his fiborous back.

It was a wide-reaching scar; like a Megalodon shark has sunk its teeth along his shoulders and ribs. The mark made you give him another once over before he pulled his pants down straight off, making you snap your head away due to the blush that wanted to burn your face. Your fingers itched, in a way that it was pleading for you to brush your soft fingers against the scars that obviously appeared to be painful. You couldn't help but gnaw on your lower lip because of the despairing feeling that suddenly crept up your chest from how he was thoroughly scarred, imagining what happened to the witcher when he had it.

You were weak-kneed. The batter of bath water slightly swaying you when he'd finally walked in the tub. But, your shyness was simply manhandled by the witcher himself when you've heard him hum in amusement, a small grin curving his luscious lips when you seemed to be stilled from hearing him sitting beside you. Those buff arms on either side as you could feel his ardent gaze on you, forbearing your abrupt timidness that you were slowly trying to process the idea that he was bathing together with you, thoroughly stark naked as you were also the same way. 

Geralt was silently hoping you weren't thinking about leaving him alone after all of that, bearing with his raging boner has been quite a torture.

It took minutes after before he literally hauled you over his thick, slightly unlatched, brawny legs. You were tormenting him in ways he could never imagine as his hardened girth twitched under the warm water. There was a bashful squeal that erupted out of you when you were manhandled by the strong witcher, sitting you in front of him as you were greeted with his hirsute chest that gave your cunt a thump. He was also welcomed by your perky, right-sized breasts and a glowing cicatrix with the image of his medallion that rested in between the valley of your chest; while his, shone beneath the moonlight seeping through the opened windows.

Your diffident self was immediately forgotten with just one touch of Geralt's fingers brushing over your mark. The scorching heat now seemed to be blistering with one thing in both of your minds.

Coition.

"Thought you had other ways to help me?" you skittishly questioned in between torrid, passionate kisses you were sharing with him. Those calloused fingers of his rested and raked behind your nape, eager fingers slipping through your locks as yours fell on his thatch of hair on his prominent, wide chest; tenderly caressing over the medallion he wore.

Only a low, hoarse and short grunt was said. The way his mouth moved and brushed along the soft pillows of your lips was utterly enticing, perfectly molding against yours in a fervid way. His warm, febrile tongue slipping inside your mouth of its own volition; making you catch your breath as he'd lapped your stilled tongue. His vigor seeming to be over the top as you tried leveling with his fervor as well.

His torrid kisses was enough to make you forget your own name. What more if he was finally pummeling inside of you?

"I do." Geralt gruffly murmured, his succulent lips trailing from your side of your lips before you've took his face in between your palms, urging his vermillion to give you more passionate kisses that you were greedy for.

He'd willingly gave you another, his lips falling in between yours as you've given him another scalding smooch that unconsciously made you mewl when you've felt the tip of his tongue brushing against your lips and teeth. An unconscious nibble of his lower lip got the witcher growling beneath his chest, his other hand tightening around your hip while the one raking behind your hair, pushing your face further to his. Those simple touches making you struggle for breath; momentarily breaking away to look into those diluted, darkened amber eyes.

"Doesn't seem like it, Rivia. You're falling for the bard's suggestion," you grinned like a Cheshire cat, heaving breaths as you sat on his lap. Your forehead delicately falling on his temple when you've licked your swollen vermillion from all the bites it took.

His hot breath fanned your lips, nails tenderly scratching along the skin of your nape as he ceased his ministrations to admire the small, naked woman in his arms. He never imagined for this to happen so quick; like it was even meant to be because of how right it felt. Geralt was sure you'd be all faint-hearted once the effects of your scar dies down; if it ever would. Then, you were back with your abashed self; entirely blushing to even realize that he had finally bed you all night.

As long as you could remember everything. He was alright.

Your heart was palpitating; feeling overwrought for the words that wants to be frankly said. You beseeched, "I also thought---you...you didn't want me?---"

You've fidgeted with the medallion that rested upon his chest, his hand on your hips leaving to take your chin to cease you from saying anything further as he slightly moved his face away from yours. His features soft and understanding, "I didn't say that. Never. " pause. "---you are certainly unaware of how much I want you, midget. Too much that it's frightening and utmost perilous,"

Those lips of his that you've been kissing simply lifted into a small beam, making your heart flutter and feel ways that you could never fathom. You carry a torch for those scars that laid upon his face. Some were miniscule, difficult to notice unless you were staring up close and some were deep that probably held some menacing experiences.

Your delicate fingers glided down the pockmark he had that rested on the side of his ribs. The wonders in your head being filled by the experience your hand can get. Geralt let you, his scars never fazing him nor you as well. Just a touch for your curiosity to be quenched.

You've heard him inhale a deep breath, the simple action making his chest vibrate beneath your fingers as another hum slipped past through. Both hands grabbed onto your hip, ushering you closer to him in a proximity that weakened your legs. His hardened cock; feeling it veiny, protruding and thick, resting in between your damp folds that made your breath hitch as you've finally felt how he was gifted within his pantaloons.

Hence, it made you bite the insides of your cheeks. A question inside your mind as to how it would fit inside your damn vagina.

Geralt noticed you stuck in a daydream that he ought to withdraw yourself from, you've felt his breath glazing along your collarbone, languidly puckering his pillowy lips along your skin with every pass of his breath. The honeyed sound that leaves his lips whenever he pecked, sending jolts of heat up your spine as he took his wondrous time to worship the body you somehow have been insecure about.

He knew your low self-esteem; probably even have his own issues as well so that was why he could understand. If he would focus on how you've tried covering yourself up when he firstly sat in the tub, those eyes of yours demanding for him to not be ashamed of what sat in front of him. Geralt instantly knew and the white haired witcher planned to glorify all night, if you'd let him.

"That scent. Hmm. Your tangy scent makes me forget of what and who I really am," the latter roughly whispered, his lips on your skin; savoring your salty, sugary and rich taste against his tongue as he brushed his lips through the depths of your chest, ending in that glowing Cicatrix that made you audibly gasp before his sweet lips.

"Geralt---" you salaciously and softly whimpered, his name sounding raunchy when you did so. Irritable pain punctured through the symbol, like a spear being stabbed through your chest for a hundred times with no explanations why it was making you suffer like this, "The pain---It's not helping---It's just turning worse---I can't take it anymore,"

As the pain tripled, Geralt halted his smooth kisses that he'd wanted to give on the mount of your perky breasts. Your eyes demanding for him to satiate each other's cravings, aggressively, passionately or whatever could quench the lust. You were begging.

"Take me," you've raised your hands and grabbed onto the side of his pretty, white head. Peepers dazed and overflowing with obscurity, "---Claim me. Over and over, I don't care. Just take the heat and pain away,"

Geralt of Rivia was no angel nor any knight that honored the dignity of one deprived woman. He was a hunger-stricken man who yearned for all of what you could offer and if he had the chance to honor your chastity to be corrupted by the witcher himself; he wholeheartedly would.

That was what he would just do. Corrupt you in so many ways till his hunger would be sated. But, he doubted it would be slaked.

From the moment you were in pain and also pleading to be ravished, it didn't take him two darn seconds to continue his onslaught on peppering your breasts with searing kisses that gave you a shiver, his wet tongue hiking down a trail around your areolas before taking your nub in his god-forsaken mouth, suckling on your nipples like a starving man.

"U-Ugh, shit." you've quietly moaned in the back of your throat as you’ve taken a sharp intake of breath, utterly lewd for anyone to hear as you held onto Geralt's wide, muscular shoulders; giving them a gentle squeeze while your eyes fluttered in exstacy. The image of him who suckled your teat was utmost impure for your once chastised thoughts.

A moaning mess was what you've become, the slight hitches of your mouth whenever he'd licked your nub after his rough suckling made his stone hard girth twitch beneath you. One shift of your hips was enough for the witcher to be grumbling a grunt from the action that has made his cock feel your moistened heat which started to grind onto him mindlessly.

"Geralt," you've whined in the back of your throat as your hips moved in its own accord, his thick girth that rested in between your cunt being rubbed by its own and you were stroking in a way that could get the little nub finding the release it wanted.

He was sucking through your neck, making you whimper as his thick, calloused fingers went straight to knead at your teat that needed attention, his hands seeming to be larger than your breasts but he certainly didn't mind as he was loving the feeling of them that rested beneath his palms. Geralt lowly grunted beneath your ear, sucking on a spot that got you sighing as another lewd plaint slipped between your lips, mouth slightly opening. The coil starting to build up in between your heat.

His fingers ceased you from continuing so, making you whine in complaint as you were already feeling an orgasm approaching. Though, he may want you gushing around his girth and not through bathwater or humping him in the middle of the tub.

The hunk of a witcher passionately kissed you one more time, fervently devouring your lips like he would chump them for his sate. You weakly moaned in between his assaulting lips, tightly shutting your eyes closed as you feel euphoria surround yourselves by whatever natural deed that was happening from the both of you. 

He grabbed onto the base of his reddened, swollen cock; lining the bulbous head on your seeping entrance. The water from the bath and your position would probably help you for your first time. Geralt went on in kissing you, never breaking apart as he'd dragged his leaking tip to your wet mound and throbbing clit, flicking his tongue inside of your mouth as he'd lowly hummed out of his chest, vibrating your breasts as it was closely rested together with his, sending ripples through your soul.

His girth pressed along the insides of your heated cunt before ceasing on your entrance, it took only one tight grope of Geralt's hair for him to deeply groan, letting him take control and delve inside, his size ginormous filling every depth and fissure that ignited a kittenish moan which certainly made him whimper once he was abnormally tightly snuggled inside.

Geralt felt like he was over the moon; your grip bringing himself into a delirium that made his mind shake, choking in his own breath when all he could ever think of was you, alone. Y/N. His midget. The way your mouth tasted. Your warmth. A solace that only you could give. More, he wanted and more of you he would take.

You hold him like a vice; your mound choking his girth from how delightful you felt around him. The idea of being sexually connected with Geralt in this way was totally a different feeling, bringing you in rhapsodies of pleasure that you didn't know existed in your life.

He was fully sheathed inside before you even know it. Too distracted by his kisses that you don't feel any ache from being filled to the brim; expecting the unexpected from that experience. His hardened cock that has slithered inside you felt uncomfortable at first, though it seemed to have no problem with slipping in because you were too aroused and wet. Good. Geralt didn't want you feeling anymore pain and only hoped for your pleasure.

You've took your time to adjust, wiggling your hips every now and then; making you slightly wince because it had a pinch of ache when you tried to move. So much for feeling no pain. Your squirming got the witcher humming in displeasure; speechless and observant of what you were feeling. Geralt patiently waited despite of the howling feeling inside his chest; wanting nothing but to begin his corrupting, yet he respected your adjustments. Both of you were throbbing in each other's hold, before you've shakily got on your position, firmly on your knees, hands on either side of his shoulders as he was intensely staring into your eyes; all darkened, piercing and libidinous like a hawk while he waited for your next move.

Your hips got the best of you, wantonly stroking in a way that made the both of you whimper in sheer gratification for trying to get comfortable with the way he fits inside of you. The way you'd slowly lift yourself up before tormentingly coming back down, his jutting veins that rubbed you in the right way as your mouth went ajar when his length and size stretched you in pure exaltation.

Geralt's focal point was on you and your mound that choked and clasped around him, intently eyeing how your face contorted in such rapture that got him adoring the coltish mewl that emitted out of you, the way you've concentrated at the blurry image of his meaty girth that has been swallowed by your pulsing heat, he knew he would beg for another round.

Your wanton pace was torturing him; more so than hunting a beast in the continent that was difficult to find. He hoarsely groaned in the back of his throat, doing his very best to not turn you around and have his way with you. You bit your lip out of loving how he filled you to the rim, uttering out another weak, sensual moan that got the witcher feeling the pining rather agonizing while he silently watched you take your time.

But, he couldn't take it anymore. He was close to sputtering out profanities from how it was growing more intolerable as minutes go by.

"Fuck." he suddenly spat, sounding like a throaty whimper as you languidly sunk back into his twitching girth for a couple more times, his amber eyes blazing with the need to brutally ravish.

"---You are planning to give me an early death,"

Which got the witcher abruptly grabbing onto your waist, pulling himself out of you as you were suddenly turned around in the bath, your back hitting the edge of the tub as you loudly shrieked, whining for the lack of being filled thereof and also for the slight pain that his prompt actions got you.

"Well, that...that hurt." you honestly whined at the witcher, curious peepers gazing up at him as he moved in front of you, his fingers taking in your knees as he spread them widely apart. The water splurging around you as he'd move, seemingly fascinating to see how largely built his body was, before feeling his robust fingers on your waist, pulling you closer to his body; your back slightly slanted before gasping when he'd fervently entered, starting to consume you again and again.

"N-Nevermind. The pain--Ugh, probably's---Ugh, fuck! Geralt!---worth it," have been coyly moaned out loud, your face scrunched out in utter ecstacy as Geralt began to avidly pummel inside you, his girth violently ravishing your soaking mound with sharp thrusts of his hips.

His body was making you feel tiny compare to his gargantuan built. The way he situated himself above you, a hand tightly clasped onto your pinguid hip while the other rested on your side, his sweaty and earthy scent choking you as he drove you instantly to heaven.

The rousing sounds of his low grunts and hushed whimpers was enough to take you on edge. You've never...ever can tell how it was music to your ears as it also does the same to Geralt, your moans and mewls were bringing him to utopia, his heavy weight thoroughly crushing your bones apart no matter how he was helping himself up.

You didn't know you had a kink where you've wanted his body crushing you down; apparently, it was a new fact that you knew would instigate the fire and excitement. A size kink, then.

He went on with his ceaseless, wild, hammering of his girth. Your arms closely embracing him tight in a way that tells him you didn't want to let go; only wanting him to surround you in his warmth forever. Your palms gliding down his wide back till you've brushed your fingers along his own scar that you've handled oh-so-delicately, urging Geralt to utter a lewd audible grunt. He was congenial to your mushy touches; new to the gentleness he was receiving rather than ruthless force.

Thusly, it was entirely spiffing as it came with the freedom of impaling you till you were thrashing against his arms.

Your orgasm was quickly building up as you clenched around him, feeling his lips giving your neck wet, open mouthed kisses as he deeply whimpered. All-consuming changing his strokes as he pummeled yet again, holding onto your legs to surround himself better as he thrust brutishly, hitting a spot that loudly made you gasp, curving your spine as your breasts brushed against his fleecy chest, his medallion seeming to be in contrast to the heat that your mark has been giving.

This was what the voices inside your head wanted. The question is, why? For what reason?

"Geralt!" Your mouth was scrunched in pleasure, eyebrows furrowed together in a frenzy as you gripped onto Geralt's hair a little more tighter than you intended to, earning a low murmur of your nickname as he deathlessly shove and shove his hips, reaching you both in a place that'll give you what you needed and wanted.

A mind-wrecking orgasm.

One last drive of his hips, hitting the spot that uncoiled the havoc burning down below. You've seen the stars, maybe even the whole universe as you've obscenely moaned out with your mouth ajar, your orgasm making your eyes roll at the back of your head as you shuddered against his hold. Though, Geralt didn't stop there when you've continued to milk him whole. The swashing of bath water resonating the whole room and your amatory whimpers of delight came with his as he tries to reach his peak.

His thrusts turned sloppy and you knew he was close to coming. Your body was writhing against his, your cunt utterly sensitive as he nailed you over and over with his mouth-watering girth. Your body squirmed below him, moaning his name like a chant as it was the only word you could ever form.

You could feel another burst of bliss that spread through you as Geralt took one last sloppy thrust to your mound, lately realizing that he had slipped a hand between you both, urging you into another orgasm as he flicked and rubbed your clit; your second orgasm letting you emit a rather loud, noisy moan that would get any porn star shunning away because of how sensuous it sounded.

That last moan really got the witcher spewing out his load inside of you, also sending a witless guttural grunt when he came after you, ceasing once he rode out the orgasm with several sloppy thrusts before you've feebly and shakily reach out to grab onto the side of his sweaty and wet face as he slowly came to a stop, ushering him to look at you.

You've felt his come spread through you, summery and utterly pleasurable for the glow of your Cicatrix to be twinkling against the candle light. You were trying to catch your breath as Geralt also does to do so.

Your half-lidded eyes met his still diluted ones, the glow inside of it thoroughly comforting to your debauched form. The afterglow of sex making you feel spent but slightly quelled from your carnal gluttony.

You could feel his breathing turn even in less than a minute; the vulgar act washing away from how quick he seemed to got a hold of himself as your fingers brush against his temples, delicately wiping away the drop of sweat with your finger as the simple gesture was enough to make Geralt lean onto your touch.

He'd slightly turned his head, his nose nuzzling against your cheeks as this newfangled closeness was making him feel relaxed than he can ever get; having such a type of blessed peace that he may never imagine it to be, "Don’t worry," he huskily reassured, his thick fingers unclasping the hold he had on your waist, leaving a slight bruise that you obviously didn't mind.

You've heard the water splurge, his fingers lightly grasping your chin, turning you to look into his earnest eyes that was filled with sudden pique within it, "I'm---" his whole explanation was quickly cut off with a coaxing, soft tone of yours; doleful of what he wanted say. 

"Shhh. I-I know,"

A breathless, depleted midget laid beneath the witcher. His soft cock still inside your sensitive mound but paid no heed as you warmed him up. His face etched of bliss, though it appeared emotionless. Well, what man would be glum when he had a lay?

Geralt contemplated whether or not to pull out of you as he'd raked your naked body that stowed beneath him, those divine looking bites that rested upon your neck and even on your chest when he'd worship your body that no one ever had. Even so, he wasn't satisfied. Well, when did the witcher even been?

"Hmm." he fascinatingly hummed, eyes burning your skin as you watched him admire your midget of a body that he somehow find utterly exquisite. 

His enthralling amber landed on yours, his eyes darkening as it was keen for more. More he wanted to take and have because of the ravenous hunger utterly palpable. The Cicatrix that was engraved on the valley of your breast still gleaming beneath the candle light; his impassioned self seeming to be shared with you as the cravings were still there, strong and unwavering.

"I may need you one more time, midget." he roughly admitted, the tine of his nose brushing against yours in a sweet caress.

The latter has his eyes fluttered closed as he sighed, his salmon colored lips dangerously close to your swollen ones as he continued to rasp, "---or maybe all night," he leaned in close to leave a soft peck to your lips that he couldn't get enough with. 

"---and the weeks after,"

He consumed your lips once again, zealously keeping the sweltering heat going as he breathlessly snogged with you. Those needy fingers of his snaking to grip along the side of your neck; his kisses growing impatient and demanding as the sound of your lips smacking together was the only thing running in your mind, the urgency quickly building up again like it never even left.

The way he began to torridly kiss you felt like you were struggling to breath. His desire in having you again feverishly lighting you up as you've instantaneously break the kiss, panting before him as he chased for your lips before you had a finger laid between them, your face in flames while you got flustered, those rough fingers ceasing from kneading your taut breast on his other hand, "Maybe---maybe, a bed is nice to be ravished on? you know, with a mattress or something soft?"

You were completely flushed. Nose scrunched as you felt your heart pounding; waiting for his answer to your suggestion. Your mind was scolding you all through out as he held his silence, aware of his semi hard on that seemed to never want to leave your cunt as he tried and hinted for another nightly ravishing between you both.

Never in your life; even back in earth that you would actually get to experience sex in the making. The idea of you and another man going at it disturbing you before because you were worried they would despise your body and how you actually looked like, entirely bare. Yet, here you were, having your virginity taken by an attractive, hot mutant who slaughters beasts for a living in their dimension.

Fortunately, you were lucky in this department because of how magically you've met him and how gloriously you've been dicked down.

You wouldn't get to forget this once the effects of the Cicatrix finally comes to its halt or probably the morning after you've slept with Geralt. Your ribald suggestions for moving in a much more comfortable place while being rode off to Neverland will probably horrify you if the idea was taken into deliberation.

"I think I may have to agree, midget." Geralt gave a soft nod of understanding, intensely staring into your eyes as he has seen the same salacious look he has been giving; simmering down his worry about the thought that you weren't in the same page as he also was.

Perhaps, beasts aren't the only thing he butchers at night and in daylight.

Geralt only wanting this to be a one time opportunity? Oh, heck no. IT’S A PRANK! He never gets satisfied! LMAO JK 😂💖 FEEDBACKS ARE SO MUCH APPRECIATED! Please do! Heehee! (Strikethrough means I couldn’t tag you, bb’s!)

Taglist for WOTN: @alyxkbrl​​ @himarisolace​​ @barkingbullfrog​​ @ayamenimthiriel​​ @hellodevilslittlesister​​ @vania-marie​​ @spookypeachx​​ @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us​​ @nympeth​​ @amirahiddleston​​ @gabethelobster​​ @dreaming-about-starfleet​​ @uncoolcloudyhead​​ @melaninstylezz​​ @psychosupernatural​​ @missjenniferblog​ @dance-dreamer​​ @marvelousell​​ @kingniazx​​ @angelias134​​ @tapismyforte​​ @chook007​​ @covid-donotenter​​ @winter-moons​ @cheesecakeisapie​ @silverkitten547​​ @angelofthor​ @carrieannewaywardson, @plantingmum​, @stuckupstucky​, @shesthelastjedi​, @a--1--1--3​​

Overall witcher taglist: @pizza-eater-i-ate-the-pizza​

#geralt of rivia #geralt #geralt x you #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x you #geralt of rivia x y/n #geralt x reader #geralt x y/n #geralt x female reader #geralt x you smut #the witcher geralt smut #geralt smut #geralt of rivia smut #geralt of rivia fic #geralt of rivia series #henry cavill #henrycavill #white wolf #butcher of blaviken #geralt of rivia x female reader #geralt of rivia x reader smut #geralt imagine #geralt of rivia/you #witcher #witcher geralt #the witcher #witcher au #Witcher of the night #WOTN #seb-owns-these-tatas

[voidstilesplease]

love and war

a demigod au [companion] ficlet

~•~

Theo's eyes snap open when he hears the loud honk from outside the motel they're staying. He sits upright in his makeshift bed on the cold floor. It's still dark, and when he checks the clock in the room, only an hour has passed since they went to bed.

He transfers his gaze at the sleeping lump on the single bed, wrapped tightly in the comforter like a human burrito. Stiles is dead to the world, open-mouth with a bit of drool on one side. He looks so young and innocent and can't hurt a fly like this. But under his pillow, Theo can see the handhold of his dagger. They're almost to the entrance of the Underworld now. More monsters are after them. Caution and vigilance are of utmost importance if they want to come back from this quest alive.

Soft snoring takes his attention from Stiles to the shape on the couch. Involuntarily, Theo scowls at the sight of him. Derek Hale, son of Poseidon. He still can't believe he's on a quest with him, or even that all three of them are together in some mad twist of fate and managed not to kill one another yet. Barely, but still. Their godly parents are the worst rivals and are the three Olympians on the verge of a war if Theo, Stiles, and Derek fail. The last thing they should become is allies.

Derek shifts and Theo notes that he looks uncomfortable in his position. It makes him oddly satisfied.

He hears the loud honk again, but it's apparent now that only he does among them. Otherwise, his two companions would have sprung up, wide-eyed and ready to pounce, no matter how exhausted they had been from a full day of running and fighting monsters.

Theo gets up to his feet, clutching the hilt of his sword, and approaches the window guardedly. With sure fingers, he pulls down the blinds enough to peek. The image that greets him gives him a moment's pause, lips parting in surprise. 

Outside, a spotless, white limousine casually parks on the deserted road. A muscular man in black jeans, combat boots, and a red muscle shirt underneath a black vest leans against it. There's a familiar sneer in his mouth noticeable even from afar, and though he's donning sunglasses, Theo knows his eyes are on him. 

He's imagined this happening since his claim at Camp Half-Blood. If he appears to him right now while Theo's in the middle of a make-or-break mission, things must be getting worse in Olympus. He usually communicates to Theo in vague dreams, in a voice in his head, in some other weird manifestation since this started, but never coming to him in the flesh.

He lets go of the blind, delays for a second of contemplative silence, and then opens the door to meet his father, the God of War, Ares.

~•~

He slows his steps as he nears the broad figure. Up close, Theo notices the fire reflecting from inside his glasses. He has heard from his siblings that their dad had fireballs in his sockets instead of eyeballs. And that any children of Ares are compelled by unexplainable force to meet those flares, cowering.

Theo stops and raises his chin to meet his father's gaze, and no matter how he tries and how tough he is, he still dips his head in submission to the god. He swallows, "Father,"

His reply was a terse and detached, "Son,"

Theo lifts his head again, not quite meeting Ares's eyes this time, and hesitates for a second, but asks, "What are you doing here, father?"

The god's face twists like he has swallowed a lemon. His head fastens in the direction of the room Theo is renting for the night. "You have such unpromising companions," he spats, glaring at the window as if he sees through it. Ares probably does. "The son of Poseidon I can scarcely forgive," his attention slips back to Theo, and even without the proper organs, Theo can feel the disgust that would be reflected in them if he had eyeballs. The disapproval is rolling like waves in his aura, and it makes dread crawl up Theo's spine. He hates that his father can evoke such emotions just with his presence. He's also starting to feel his blood boil. "but Athena's spawn?"

Theo bites his lip and balls his fists to avoid saying something that will make his father smite him to smithereens. That is not at all the way he had imagined his first meeting with his father to end.

"She dares call me a thief," Ares's voice does not rise, but it doesn't have to. Theo's hyper-aware of his father's rage, and it makes his knees quiver to kneel and supplicate. 

Theo forces to say the words, "Stiles is helping to find an end to this conflict,"

Ares scoffs, unimpressed. "And by an end," he crosses his burly arms. "You mean victory against our enemies in the war."

Theo shakes his head, breathing through his nose. "I was thinking about not starting a war at all."

The look Ares gives him makes his stomach coil, and he hates it. The god regards him similarly to an insect: small, insignificant, and revolting. "No child of War runs from war."

Theo breathes in deep, his blunt and dirty nails digging in the skin of his palms. "There isn't one yet, that is necessary."

Ares's face thunders and the fire in his eyes glow brighter. It seems the god expresses no aversion to smiting his son right then and there. "She slandered my name-"

"Ares, dear, do be nice now." A silky, feminine voice interrupts his father from inside the limo. And amazingly, the god's anger deflates, albeit grudgingly. He's still enraged, but he's holding himself back from committing a crime. Theo inwardly sighs in relief.

The god purses his lips, nose flaring slightly, "My Lady wishes to give you a weapon,"

Theo draws his eyebrows together, "Your Lady?" Just as he says the question, the answer comes to Theo. He remembers the afternoon Stiles discussed with him in their session about his father's amorous relationship with a fellow Olympian.

"Aphrodite is the goddess of love and beauty and is married to Hera's son, Hephaestus, the god of the forge. The union forced upon Aphrodite as it was a condition made by Hephaestus so he would free his mother, Hera, from being bound into a magical throne he built and tricked the queen of the gods into sitting. Zeus granted it, and so they were married. Aphrodite resented his husband because Lord Hephaestus was, in the standard of the divinities, ugly and lame, and therefore, not befitting the goddess of beauty.

The god tried to gain her affection by designing beautiful jewelry for her in his workshop. But she wasn't interested. Instead, she used the opportunity of his husband's work arrest in his workshop to be unfaithful and be with other gods or goddesses, and even mortals.

Then she met Ares, and they fell in love. They kept on having affairs with other immortals and mortals, but they always came back to each other -even though that's against the rule of formal infidelity of the Greeks."

"Bring him in, dear,"

The soft voice breaks Theo's reverie, and with a huff, his father motions him to the door as requested by the goddess Aphrodite.

He doesn't know what to expect the goddess of beauty would look like, but when the door opens, Theo catches a glimpse of the car's occupant, and he thinks he hallucinated Stiles for a brief moment. When he blinks, he now sees the flowing hair and feminine features instead of gelled up hair and slender muscles.

He takes a seat, and the door shuts. Theo finds himself captivated by the different aura that she emanates in comparison to what he had felt with his father. His skin feels warm instead of burning, and his heart steadies instead of races. He stares at the face of the goddess, and if he isn't so gone, he would have remembered his manners -whatever little he has. At least, the goddess doesn't seem offended by the rapt attention -she's probably used to it- but amused.

Theo had never mentally built a picture of the goddess, but he didn't expect for her to have moles sprinkled in her pale face or have amber, almost molten liquid, eyes. But she has an elegant upturned nose and pink cupid's bow lips, which are as expected. Her features remind Theo so closely of Stiles. That must be why he thought he saw him for a second there.

When she smiles, it even feels familiar to Theo.

"What do you see?" She asks.

"Um," Theo swallows and licks his dried lips. "Your beauty, goddess."

She emits a soft, coy chuckle. "It is not universal. Do I resemble someone specific that you know?"

The question throws him for a little, and he blinks. "Yes," He says honestly, figuring there is no point in lying.

The smile on her face broadens, "My beauty is an individual's perception of it, son of Ares. It is one or the other, depending on who's looking."

He frowns, confused. Before he can ask what the goddess is trying to say or process it himself, Aphrodite procures an object in her hands that she passes to Theo. When he looks down at the item, it's a palm-sized rose looking-glass. He sees his reflection as he studies it. It's a simple circular mirror with roses encrusted around it; each petal is elaborately carved.

"It is a present from my husband," the goddess says.

Theo nods, thinking it makes perfect sense. Something as well-crafted as the item he holds must only be from a god. 

"When you absolutely need it," she continues, "look upon the mirror, and help will come. It grants only one call."

He gives the goddess a quizzical look, "Why are you giving it to me, though, Lady Aphrodite? I am grateful and honored to receive such a gift," he hastily adds, remembering Stiles's warning of always showing gratitude to the gods. It avoids spontaneously combusting. "But I don't know why me?"

Thankfully, she seems to be in good spirits because she only inclines her head. "Do you think it appropriate if I gifted that to the children of my beloved's rivals?"

Theo made a humming noise.

"I must say," she adds, "I assumed if it was the son of Poseidon I invited, I know what image he would see in my face. But, I wonder," she gives Theo a look, her brown eyes twinkling in the same fashion as Stiles's when he formulates a clever, and devious idea. "If it was the son of Athena, whose face would he have seen between two?"

Theo pauses, caught off guard.

Then, the goddess straightens. "Remember. Only once. Choose the moment wisely."

Theo opens his mouth to thank her once more and asks what is in exchange for the goddess' generosity. Stiles had also taught him that gods don't just hand out presents to the mortals they favor without a deed or a sacrifice. But, the next time he breathes, he's back inside the room, sitting in his comforter on the floor.

He blinks rapidly and scrambles to his feet toward the window. He pulls the blinds aside and sees nothing but a deserted road outside where the limo has been.

He almost thinks he dreamt it, but when he looks at his hand, Aphrodite's mirror is in there.

"Remember. Only once. Choose the moment wisely."

~•~

[1][2][3][4][comp 1]

#teen wolf #steo #steo ficlet #steo au #teen wolf au #teen wolf crossover #camp half blood #teen wolf characters #as demigods #demigod au #tw demigod au ficlet #teen wolf demigod au series #word count: 1935 #fics tag #i just remembered this scene #in pjo 3 #the titan's curse #and i had to make a steo version lol #demigodseries

[sombreboy]

Bleeding love | yandere!kth

▎ pairing: kth x female reader ▎ xtremity; 3 ▎ genre: angst, breakup, yandere ▎ warnings: toxic relationship, kidnapping, blood, self harm(Tae cuts himself a little) ▎ word count: 2.1k 

Request by anon: Yandere Tae and you are in a happy relationship and you decide to introduce him to your parents and siblings and they disapprove of him. You decide to break up with him. How would he keep you?

''We have to break up.''

Taehyung choked on the drink he was sipping on, hitting his chest as he coughed. His eyes went from wide with shock to squinting with annoyance,

''What do you mean, break up? Why?''

You fiddled with your fork, mindlessly stirring the food on your plate, avoiding eyecontact with him.

''Remember when I introduced you to my family last weekend?''

He nodded, arms crossed over his chest,

''What about it?''

You grit your teeth, a common habit of yours when you were feeling nervous.

''They gave me a lot to think about when it comes to us, and... I don't think it's gonna work. My family is very important to me, and I value their opinion.''

Taehyung slams his hand on the table, making the strangers by the tables around you in the restaurant startled, quietly whispering and moving their attention elsewhere when he glances over. He stares back at you,

''Fucking look at me, Y/N.''

Your eyes move up to meet his, they were furious, his eyebrows furrowed as he clenched his jaw before snarling out quietly,

''Why the fuck do you care what they say? We are perfectly happy, aren't we? You said so yourself, that you love me, and always will. Was it all lies? Huh?!''

You shrink into the chair, because he was right. You did tell him Those things, because you believed it. But your family had made you realize that he also was toxic, his anger issues and obsessive behavior over you wasn't healthy. And he refused to acknowledge it, so it was easier to just break up.

Or so you thought.

''Are you just not gonna leave me that easily? I was that important to you, huh?''

He leans back into his chair, his fist clenched on the table. He shook his head, speaking loudly to himself rather than towards you,

''I won't allow it. No way, we're not breaking up.''

You raise your eyebrows at him, ''It's not a matter of choice on your end, Tae. I'm telling you, we're done.''

You stood up from your chair, throwing your purse over your shoulder to walk away, but before you're able to, Taehyung leans over the table to grab your wrist, staring up at you with a piercing glare,

''We're not done, Y/N.''

''I am done. Goodbye, Taehyung.'' He flinches at your words, his grip loosening as you withdraw your arm and turn on your heels to stride out of the restaurant.

He groans in frustration, throwing money on the table before getting up so quickly that the chair squeaks to follow behind you.

You rush down the street in the late evening night, the only light coming from cars and streetlights. It was rather beautiful. You finally reached your apartment, standing outside the door as you fumble to fish out your keys.

While putting the keys into the lock, you suddenly feel the presence of somebody behind you, so you turn around slowly only to see the stature of your now ex-boyfriend.

It had started to rain, and his wet hair was clinging onto his face, framing him beautifully. He looked almost unreal, as if from a movie.

But he was definitely real, and the expression on his face made your heart ache. It was the polar opposite of the man from earlier, the one with anger and rage was completely washed away as the man in front of you wore a sad expression, lips trembling as he opens his mouth to speak with a shaky breath,

''Please don't tell me you meant what you said.''

This made it so incredibly hard. He was able to change expressions and play with your emotions like nobody else, going from a controlling rage to a sad, wet puppy within minutes.

''I'm sorry...I can't be with you.'' You felt your own tears well up in your eyes.

He dropped to his knees in front of you, hands reaching out to wrap around your legs as he pushes his face into the fabric of your clothes on your stomach, shoulders starting to shake as he sobs out,

''Please, please, please.... I can't live without you.''

Your own tears started to flow at this point, clutching your chest as you leaned back against your door.

''Stop it, Taehyung...''

He stops sobbing as if on command, slowly getting back up on his legs as he towers over you. His blood-shot eyes are piercing, but he keeps the same sombre expression playing on his face as his hand travels to smooth over the skin of your cheek to wipe away your tears,

''If you didn't love me, you wouldn't be crying right now.''

You shook your head, turning the keys on the door behind you to open the door slowly. You just wanted to sleep.

''Go home, Taehyung.''

He clenched his jaw, ''If you promise to stay with me.''

You shook your head, stepping backwards into your apartment. He doesn't move, so you walk inside until you can keep the wall of the door between you as you stand in the doorway,

''You know I can't promise that. Please go.''

Taehyung's expression slowly changed, from pleading to annoyance. He clacked his shoe in the ground as he looked at his feet.

''Fine. I'll leave.''

You felt slightly surprised at the way he gave in, but you felt a huge relief.

''Goodnight, Tae.'' You close the door and lock it, taking a deep breath before peeking through the hole of the door to look at him.

He stood still for a few minutes, just staring at the sky. He looked beautiful in the moonlight, and it still mesmerized you. But he wasn't good for you. This was for the best.

You noticed that he suddenly smiled, chuckling as he shook his head before turning around to walk away. You kept your eyes on him until he was out of sight, and you decided you were finally able to head to bed.

Taehyung had spent that whole night in his bed, staring at the spot you used to lay next to him. He glanced at his phone, checking your social media to see that you haven't been active since your dinner together.

''She wasn't serious... She will call me today.'' He mused to himself.

But you didn't, and it made him anxious and annoyed, so he decided to take the matter into his own hands. You weren't broken up, you just weren't. You love him, and he loves you. Oh, how he loves you. Why else would he be in his car right now, on his way to your place? It was all because he cares about you.

''We can fix this. I can fix this.'' He spoke out loud to himself in the silence of his car, one eye twitching at the swirling feeling in his chest of joy. He was gonna get you back, because he truly didn't lose you.

He knocked on your door, but no one opened. No response? Weird.

He checked his phone, dialing your number with no luck there as well.

Radio silence.

Taehyung bit his lower lip in frustration, striding over to your window. He was lucky you lived on the first floor, so he peeked inside between the curtains to see that all lights were turned off. Were you not home? Where would you possibly go?

He sighed, ''It's fine. She will be back soon. I'll just make myself comfortable meanwhile.''

Luckily, he'd prepared for this, Walking back to his car to bring a crowbar with him, forcing the window open carefully. He stepped inside, closed the window and turned on the lights after closing the curtains.

The security alarm went off, but Taehyung quickly moved over to the alarm-pad and pressed the combination to make it stop. He's used it so many times before, this was a piece of cake.

Taehyung walked around your apartment, Everything looked the same. Even his toothbrush was still in your bathroom, and he smiled before moving to your livingroom, sitting down on the couch to await your arrival.

You unlocked your door and stepped inside, kicking off your shoes and throwing your jacket on the floor, too tired to bother with it right now.

''Weird, did I forget to turn on the alarm..'' You mused as you sauntered over to the kitchen to grab something quick to eat.

Taehyung heard you, quickly getting up off of the couch to sneak over to the kitchen, watching you just stand by the counter and drifting away in thought.

You were truly a Beauty, he was always in awe when you were zoning into your own mind. But, now wasn't the time. Now there were more important matters.

He really wished he didn't have to do this, but it was for your own good. Your family were brainwashing you into thinking he's some kind of... Crazy person.

You heard his breathing behind you, a shaky breath being the last thing you heard before everything went dark.

You woke up slowly, feeling groggy and your eyes struggling to adapt to the light right away. Groaning sleepily, you squint as you see the stature of a man sitting in front of you in a chair, looking down at your figure that is seated on the floor against the wall.

''W-what....where am I?''

''Sweetheart, ssh... You're safe.''

You open your eyes wide when you can clearly see that Taehyung's sitting in front of you, looking like he's had a type of day with the way his hair was in a mess, his white dress shirt slightly dirty and disheveled.

''Safe? What are you– What the fuck is this?!'' You Yell out when you tried to move your hands, but they were restrained behind your back, unable to move properly as you wiggle.

''Don't, don't.'' He pleads as he drops down from the chair on his knees on the floor in front of you, hands reaching out for you. You flinch,

''Don't touch me!''

Taehyung stops his hands in the air before withdrawing them, his shoulders sinking and his lips pressed in a straight line.

''Y/N.''

You frown, spitting out your words like venom,

''Don't 'Y/N' me, Taehyung! Why am I tied up in your place? Oh my good, I was just in my kitchen, did you fucking kidnap me?! I'll scream, let me go right now!''

Taehyung's eye twitched as his lips curled up in a smile, he leaned forward over you with the utmost of affection on his face,

''Do you really think anybody would hear you? Go on, scream. But if you're done being a brat, I have important matters to discuss with you, babe.''

You spit on the floor, anger rushing through your veins like never before,

''Fuck you, you're crazy! Let me out, I swear I will have you fucking arrested. This isn't okay!''

Taehyung groaned in Disappointment, pulling out a knife from his backpocket. You instantly freeze, pressing yourself against the wall to shrink.

''Don't worry, my love. I wouldn't hurt you,'' He crooks an eyebrow at you before looking at his knife, ''Do you remember what I said about not being able to live without you?''

You felt anxiety swirl in your gut, but you nod, ''What are you implying?''

He smiled sadly, ''You love me, don't you?''

''Tae...''

''Just tell me you love me. We can be together forever, you were happy. Your family doesn't need to know, they're brainwashing you to believe that I'm bad... I'm not bad, Y/N. I love you.''

You sigh, looking at his sad expression and dead eyes staring at you. He brings the knife to his wrist, and slowly lets the blade slice his skin to draw blood. It wasn't deep, not fatal, just enough to make a point.

''I'm bleeding for you. This blood, running through my veins.. It's all for you. Don't you see, I can't live without you.''

''You can, Taehyung. Please..''

''No. I won't let you go again. You're mine, Y/N, why won't you..'' He stops to slam the knife into the wall next to you, ''Why won't you fucking realize that we're supposed to be together?!''

He Breathes heavily, eyes blood shot. His hand grabs your face, guiding it to his own as he places a kiss on your lips. The blood from his palm leaves red marks on your cheek, feeling the wet warmth from it makes you shiver. He withdraws his mouth from yours, the kisses you usually felt so dearly now felt foreign with the desperation behind it.

''Youre mine, you're mine, you're mine.''

He was not gonna let you go, ever. 

© sombreboy 2020. Do not repost, edit or translate.

#yandere bts #yandere taehyung #taehyung angst #taehyung scenario #taehyung imagine #taehyung breakup au #taehyung x reader #taehyung x yn #taehyung x y/n #taehyung x you

[fandom-collective-writers]

What He’d Never Lose (Nobunaga Oda x Reader)

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku

Pairing: Nobunaga Oda x Reader

Prompt: Jealous Ikesen Nobunaga, fluff and smut, making up after a fight

Warning: Smut and Fluff

Intended Audience: Female Audience

Word Count: 4,132

Requested by: Anonymous @ikemen-discord-writers

Written by: @lordsister

Disclaimer: I do not own Ikemen Sengoku or any of its characters. I do however, own the plot of this fanfic. Please do not reblog or repost this on any other website.

He had balls, Nobunaga would give him that, even if he was a fool for thinking he ever had a chance of wooing the Devil King’s queen.

Taking another swig from the sake in his hand, Nobunaga glared as the river of honeyed words continued, drawing polite chuckles from the girl seated at his right. It was a wonder Lord Kunieda hadn’t noticed the warlord’s red gaze yet, intense and burning as it was and for so long.

“My lord,” Hideyoshi murmured next to him, a question in his low, angry tone. It was clear he wanted to tear the visiting lord’s head from his neck just as much as Nobunaga did.

Holding up a hand in answer, Nobunaga didn’t bother looking at his vassal, keeping his gaze set firmly on this idiot who had the audacity to romance a woman while she sat at her lover’s side. There was going to be hell to pay for this, he would make sure of that.

From the moment the Lord Kunieda had arrived, his unworthy eyes hadn’t left (y/n), every few minutes bearing witness to a new attempt to butter her up with sweet words and compliments, the man even going so far as to lay a pile of luxurious gifts from his province at her feet in a very obvious attempt to win her affections. 

He hadn’t gone any farther than words and his gaze had remained respectfully on your face, but Nobunaga still didn’t like it, especially since you didn’t seem to express even the slightest discomfort in response to the lord’s advances. If anything, Lord Kunieda’s friendly disposition made matters worse. It would have been easy to cast him out in shame if he had been lecherous or untoward in any way, but he was neither of those things, blinding you to the desire Nobunaga could see lurking just beneath the surface. 

When his gaze lingered on you just a moment too long or he moved just a little too close to you to be considered simply friendly, Nobunaga saw it, the same interest he felt towards you reflected in the other man’s eyes, the impulse to take you away and intimately learn all there was to know about your strange, wonderful self, so different than any other woman of the Sengoku. 

But your were his treasure, your love his and his alone, and Nobunaga would be damned if he ever let another man take you away from him.

He continued to watch, calculating his next course of action, as you continued to talk with the visiting lord, enthralling him without even knowing it. It seemed as if you and he hadn’t stopped talking for a moment since he arrived, your conversation continuing well into the evening as the Oda warlords and Lord Kunieda’s traveling party feasted on an elaborate banquet.

He watched with narrowed eyes as Lord Kunieda poured your sake for you, a sign of utmost respect, and you thanked him, bringing the red cup to the lips he’d kissed so many times. It was a simple gesture, curious as Kunieda had yet to pour for his host and superior, but nothing to be as overly upset about as Nobunaga was now, the flames of his anger effectively fanned.

This lord wasn’t here to make an alliance if the minimal amount of words he had spoken to the Oda warlord was anything to go by. If anything he was here to make a marriage alliance. To say that Nobunaga was jealous would be an understatement. His blood was boiling with rage and the desire to take you away to his rooms and mark you again and again and again as his own.

Nobunaga had never been the kind to hide his displeasure and now was no exception. Enough was enough. 

“Lord Kunieda,” he began, wrapping an arm around your waist as he did and drawing you so close you were practically sitting in his lap. In his peripheral vision he saw you look up at him questioningly, but ignored it in favor of holding Lord Kunieda’s gaze which had snapped up to meet his for the first time since he arrived. Nobunaga took an odd pleasure in the way the man froze under his gaze, mouth pressed into a firm line as he struggled to school his features. 

“Y-Yes, my lord?” Kunieda replied, shuffling in place uncomfortably.

‘Yes, squirm, fool.’ Smirking savagely, he continued, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were here to steal my princess away from me.” A hush fell over the banquet hall and he felt you freeze against him, shooting him a warning look, but he ignored it. “You must have an abundance of confidence in yourself and your province to make such advances in the very presence of your host.”

Lord Kunieda’s jaw dropped, his mouth opening and closing ridiculously before he choked out, “M-My most sincere apologies, my lord! It-It was never my intention to come off as rude!”

“Oh?” Lifting a brow, he watched pitilessly as the man sunk into a bow, his shoulders shaking slightly. “Then what were your intentions?” All pretense of humor was gone from his voice, replaced with cold hostility. 

The hall was silent, the room holding its breath. Lord Kunieda finally spoke, his voice shaking as he answered, “I only wished to learn more about the Oda Princess of Azuchi everyone’s speaking of. I’m terribly sorry for letting my own curiosity get the best of me. It was never my intention to make advances or insult my host. Please, don’t let my thoughtless actions reflect on the success of our alliance.”

All eyes turned from Kunieda to Nobunaga who lounged against his armrest, you still tucked safely against his side. “I’m afraid I’m not in the most gracious mood tonight. I’m sure you can understand why.”

Kunieda said nothing, but Nobunaga saw his throat bob.

“I-” he began, but stopped. He would have gladly sent the prostrating lord back to his province empty-handed with his tail between his legs that very second, but his eyes suddenly shifted down to yours and what he saw there gaze him pause, the smug expression on his face falling. Your gaze was pleading, desperately asking him not to do what you knew he was about to do, and while a part of him grew angrier over the fact that you would defend someone who was obviously interested in taking you away, the larger, better part of him knew you were right. He couldn’t blame a man for feeling as he did for someone as amazing as you, but oh how he wanted to tear him apart anyway. “The night grows old,” he finally said, looking back to his audience. “I’ll make my decision to continue as planned or not in the morning.”

A collective sigh or relief went through the visiting party, Lord Kunieda thanking him even as he remained in his bent position, forehead pressed to the tatami mats. A few grumbles went through the Oda forces, but they complied with their lord’s decision anyway, rising to their feet to retire to their individual manors for the night.

Bringing you up with him as he stood, Nobunaga said, “I need to speak with you in the tenshu. Now.” He didn’t wait for your answer before taking your wrist in a gentle albeit firm hold and leading you out of the room, ignoring your questions and complaints as he pulled you up the stairs and through the sliding doors.

“Nobunaga, what was all that about? What were you talking about when you said he was trying to steal me away?” you demanded when he released you, your tone angry and confused as he turned his back on you to close the doors.

He didn’t answer your questions, instead stating, “I’m going to send Lord Kunieda away empty-handed tomorrow morning.”

“What?! Why?!”

His glare met yours, his form towering over you as he took a step closer. “I have no interest in making alliances with men who don’t know not to touch what’s not theirs.”

“He wasn’t trying to make advances on me, Nobunaga!”

“Yes, he was. And you weren’t doing anything to deny him.”

“He wasn’t doing anything wrong!”

Nobunaga scoffed, taking another step closer so that he had you cornered between himself and the wall. “He’s supposedly here to make an alliance, but he hasn’t spoken more than ten words to me. He seems to have plenty to say to you, however. He’s kept your attention from me all evening and you seemed to be enjoying it well enough.”

“I was not!”

“Don’t lie. I saw you smiling at him.”

You pushed hard against his chest, trying to put some space between the two of you, but he didn’t budge. “I was being polite, Nobunaga! If you have this lord’s support, that’s one less province you have to take by force! Why are you being so jealous?”

Taking your chin a little more harshly than he intended, Nobunaga forced you to look up at him, to meet the fire in his red eyes. “He thought he could get close to what’s mine, (y/n). I could see it in the way he spoke to you, the way he looked at you. Are you really so naive and foolish that you cannot tell when another man wants to spread your legs?”

That was too far, and he knew it the second after it passed his lips. The next thing he knew there was a slight stinging sensation in his hand as you smacked him away, your expression hurt and angry as he watched tears bead in the corners of your eyes. 

“I can’t believe you,” you choked, stepping away from him before he could reach out to catch you. “I can’t-” Turning on your heel, you bounded out of the room, the sliding door smacking against the doorframe as you pushed it aside in your rush to get away from him. 

Nobunaga shouted your name, taking a few steps after you, but you were already long gone, your pounding footsteps growing faint as you disappeared down the corridor. His outstretched hand fell to his side as the warlord bit his lip, head hanging in shame. 

His own cruelty astounded him. How could he have said something like that to you, the person he loved so, so much; the only woman he would ever love? 

As much as he wanted to chase you down right that instant and hold you close, erasing all the bad as he begged for your forgiveness, he knew that would only hurt you more. You needed time to yourself until you were ready to accept him crawling back into your good graces. 

For now, the Oda warlord gently closed the door to his room and sat down on the futon, preparing to wait through the long, sleepless night ahead while the pain he had inflicted on you burned bright in his mind and tears pricked at his eyes. 

He was the real fool in all of this. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It took a week for him to crack, his patience wearing thin as desperation began to set in.

Nobunaga hadn’t slept since his fight with you and what rest he did get was fitful and shallow. The morning after his blunder, with Lord Kunieda and his party anxiously awaiting their fate, he had decided to allow the alliance to proceed anyway, lest he risk incurring any more of your wrath. It surprised everyone in attendance but no one was willing to question it. Even Hideyoshi didn’t dare come near him, sensing the dark cloud hovering over his lord. Kunieda left soon after, saying something about needing to get back to his province, and while you were sure to have heard news of his decision, you still didn’t come to see him.

Nobunaga strained to catch little glimpses of you throughout the days, watching you from the balcony of his tenshu when you went into town, assigning you work via Hideyoshi that brought you closer to him, even peaking through the doors of your room to watch you sew whenever he passed by, keeping as quiet as possible.

As the days went by without a word from you, he grew more and more exhausted. It was lonely without you. His nights were either spent working or staring at the ceiling of the tenshu. He couldn’t sleep without you beside him.

Finally, exactly a week after the fight, he couldn’t take it anymore. He had to make things right with you. He was willing to get on his knees and beg if that’s what you wanted. He just had to have you back in his arms. Anything to stop this agony of being parted.

Rising from his futon, Nobunaga quietly opened the doors and slipped down the stairs, shuffling to your room. A light emanated from beneath the door, but when he knocked softly there was no answer. Calling your name as he opened the door, he found your room empty, a lamp burning low in the corner and half-finished sewing pieces scattered across your desk. The cover of your futon was turned out on one side, signifying that you had gotten up some time during the night just like he had. 

Leaving your room, he continued his search for you. He wasn’t going to wait any longer to settle this. He couldn’t.

Nobunaga caught sight of you in the courtyard, sitting on a stone bench and looking up at the moon and stars. His heart thumped in his chest as he stood in the shadows, watching the way the milky light bathed your features, making you ethereal. You were his angel. The only thing that would have made you more beautiful to him in that moment was if there had been a smile on your face. Instead, there was a heaviness to the set of your shoulders, an unspoken sadness that he knew he was to blame for.

Stepping into the courtyard, his wooden sandals crunching on the stones revealed his presence to you. Your eyes snapped to him, clear and surprised in the starlight, and he held your gaze, unable to look away even if he wanted to. This was the first time your eyes had met his in a week. Nobunaga’s hope grew when you didn’t make a move to run away from him, but he stopped before he reached you, leaving a few feet’s space between you and him.

Neither you nor he dared say anything, lest the moment break and the pain and heartache come rushing back in. Lifting his hand in a silent offer, he held his breath as time stretched between the two of you, hoping with all his heart and soul that you would take it, that you wouldn’t turn away from him.

With a shuddering breath, you closed the distance and threw yourself into his arms, fully accepting him. Nobunaga could’ve cried it felt so good to have you close again, warm, safe, and loved. His lips pressed to your head, lingering as he took in your scent and held you tighter.

“Can you forgive me, my love?” he spoke, his voice a low murmur in the night air as you nuzzled into his chest. “Can you forgive me for being a fool?”

You nodded against him, biting your lip as you whimpered and clung tighter to him, your tears wetting his kimono. “Yes,” you choked, taking in a shuddering breath. “I forgive you, Nobunaga.”

“I’m sorry, (y/n). I’m so sorry I hurt you.” The warlord could feel tears of his own pricking his eyes, a burn forming in his throat as he tried and failed to keep his voice steady. 

“I forgive you, I forgive you,” you repeated, tilting your head up to look at him. To his surprise, there was a smile on your face, so happy and joyful even as tears continued to stream down your cheeks. “I’ll always forgive you.”

The relief was almost enough to send him to his knees at your feet. His lips captured yours, desperate to feel you after so long without you. Your arms moved from his torso to his neck, drawing him even further down to you as your lips moved with equal passion. Nobunaga didn’t let you go until both of you were thoroughly breathless, even then only pulling back just enough to draw in air, his forehead pressed to your own. “Thank you. Thank you, (y/n).” Giving you another quick kiss, he murmured, “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you, too,” you responded, cupping his cheek in your hand lovingly and brushing away the few stray tears that fell with your thumb. 

Catching your hand to press his lips to your palm, he looked at you questioningly, wondering if he had the right to ask you this yet or if the hurt was still too fresh. “Will you come back to bed with me?” 

You blinked, processing, before a bright smile appeared on your lips, and he couldn’t help but smile back. “Nothing would make me happier right now, my love.”

He didn’t need more confirmation than that. Taking your hand, the two of you practically raced back up to the tenshu, trying to stay as quiet as possible (not that it would matter later on). Several times, Nobunaga traded joyful smiles with you, and you had to stifle your giggles more than once as he leaned down to give your ear a playful bite.

A weight had been lifted from both of your shoulders, the exhaustion of sleepless nights falling away in response to what the rest of the night promised. There was happiness now where there had been hurt an hour before.

His lips were on yours again before the sliding door was fully closed, eagerly swallowing your moan as his tongue met and tangled with yours. Laying you back against the futon, he continued to kiss you as his hands smoothed up your legs to your obi, parting your kimono and baring your lower half in the process. Kissing down your jaw to your neck, he bit and sucked at the tender skin, leaving marks that would bloom into beautiful hickeys later on. 

“Nobunaga,” you mewled, hands fisting in his kimono as his fingers probed at your dampening heat, stroking up until he found the bundle of nerves and pressed on it. He smirked against your neck as you arched beautifully, pushing your breasts towards him and crying out his name. His name would be the only thing you could say by the time he was done.

You whimpered as his hands left you to tug his kimono off and he chuckled, smiling at you as he moved farther down your body and hoisted a leg over his shoulder. “Patience, my love. I have a lot to make up for and I plan to do it...thoroughly.”

Your hands fisted in the futon a moment before his mouth met your core, his tongue licking a strip across your slit as his thumbs stroked at the insides of your thighs, feeling them tremble against his head. He moaned at your sweetly familiar taste and his grip tightened as his tongue slipped inside of you, satisfying his starvation for you. Your moans grew louder and your hips bucked against his face as his hand stroked up your thigh to pinch your clit, drawing circles around the bud with calloused fingertips and drawing you ever closer to your release.

“Ngh-! N-Nobunaga, I’m-!” He hadn’t realized he’d closed his eyes in rapture until they flew open, his mouth detaching from your core with a wet pop and a cry of protest from you. Not yet. He wasn’t going to let you have that pleasure you so wanted just yet. Not until he was buried deep inside of you, falling off over that edge with you.

Leaning back on his haunches to look at you and lick away the traces of your essence dripping from his chin, Nobunaga felt his breathing quicken as he took in the beautiful way your breasts heaved, skin flushed with pleasure, hair spread out around you like a halo, and legs splayed in desire and trust for him. A low growl tore from his throat at the sight, his cock becoming painfully hard as his instincts screamed at him to shove himself into the woman he loved and prove to her there was no one better for her than him, that he was the only one for her. He swore he’d never seen anything more beautiful. You shivered under his hungry, primal gaze, an answering whine rising from you as your lust and love filled eyes beckoned him to take what he wanted, to become as close as possible.

Still, there was one thing he had to do before he could take you the way he wanted.

Reigning himself in for a moment, he leaned down to press a kiss to your breast, feeling your heart flutter beneath his lingering lips. “I never want to hurt you again,” he promised softly, leaning into your touch as your fingers carded through his hair. The expression you were giving him when he looked up had shifted to something so tender and loving, he almost thought this was a dream, that he was actually slumped over his desk in reality and that you were still hurt, nursing your broken heart.  But when he lunged up to kiss you again, desperate and passionate, he knew this was real, your warmth and the feel of your small hands on his back pulling him closer too vivid and familiar to be a dream.

Your lips abruptly broke away from his, your head thrown back against the mussed covers with a moan, when he suddenly rutted between your legs, coating his considerable length in your wetness and prodding against your entrance teasingly. With a moan of his own, Nobunaga’s lips attached to your exposed neck, his breath fanning across your skin as he breathed hard with need.

“Nobunaga!” you begged, wrapping your legs around his waist as you tried and failed to pull him into you.

“Who do you belong to?” he husked into your ear, a deep part of himself needing to hear your response, to soothe the wounded beast that wanted nothing more than to destroy any other man that looked at you.

“You, Nobunaga,” you answered breathlessly, turning your head to look him in the eye. “You and only you, forever.”

“That’s right.” In one smooth thrust he plunged himself into you all the way to the hilt, his roar joining your scream of pleasure. It felt unbelievably good, feeling your walls squeezing and fluttering around his cock as he drove himself into you again and again, imprinting his name into the deepest parts of you. “You’re mine, (y/n). I’m never letting you go,” he snarled, one large hand holding yours above your head while the other gripped your hip, holding you in place. 

Each thrust was punctuated with the word “mine” as his fingers tangled with yours, squeezing as he kissed you again, sloppy and breathless. It wasn’t long until he felt his peak approaching, the tightening of your walls signaling your own impending climax. Releasing your hands, he moved back to your clit, pinching and pressing enough to send you over the edge just as he did, roaring your name into the night as his release filled you to the brim and your own dripped down his length. Your satisfied cry of his name rang in his ears as he slumped over you, panting into your ear as your chest rose and fell against his with your own harsh breathing. A few moments passed, but he didn’t pull out, his hips continuing to move against you once more. Nobunaga wasn’t done making love to you tonight. Not by a long shot.

His thrusts were slow, deep, and forceful now, making you feel every inch of him as his body joined with yours. “I love you,” he said softly, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he did and wrapping his arms around you, holding you safe and loved.

You embraced him back, body moving in gentle waves to meet his thrusts. “I love you, too.” He could hear the smile he loved so much in your voice, the smile he’d wished to see for so long. “Always.” 

For the rest of the night, he held that smile close as he continued to make love to you. Nobunaga had what he wanted most - your love - and looking into your eyes and seeing the way you looked at him was enough to know he knew he would never lose it.

#ikemen sengoku #ikemen #ikemen series #ikesen #nobunaga oda #ikesen nobunaga #ikesen smut #fluff #ikemen sengoku nobunaga #nobunaga oda x reader #nobunaga x reader #jealousy #smut #cybird #otome

[xhanisai]

Can I be that one annoying fan that spams you every day with basically the same question? That being Kiss AU frightningale. If you would be so kind.

Well, since you kindly gave me that Ko-Fi UwUwUwU, I can spare an ounce of kindness~~~ 

This will be a long one~ Enjoy! (P.S. I have made a lot of changes here to make this, hopefully much more interesting…) 

The episode starts off with Gabriel dragging his son away to the venue for the Chat Noir costume fitting. Adrien’s trying everything to escape, ranging from faking he’s sick to clinging to the railings on the stairs. Gabriel and Nathalie struggled to get him to let go but Gorilla comes to their rescue, managing to pluck him off with ease. 

“You’ll never take me alive!” Adrien hollered out childishly, kicking his legs and banging his fists against Gorilla’s back as he was held like a sack of potatoes, the group making way out of the house and to the limo. 

“Never make us do that again, Son.” Gabriel grumbled out, running his fingers through his unruly hair before quickly straightening the locks back. A frazzled Nathalie handed him a comb with a huff.

“How about, don’t force me into doing things I don’t want to? Hmm?” Adrien sassed, looking as intimidating as a caught kitten. He could feel Plagg cackling in his jacket, the cursed being doing nothing to help. 

“It’s just a fitting Adrien- plus it’s a very good opportunity for you! You get to meet an international popstar and perform in her music video, dressed up as one of those superheroes you adore.” 

“B-B-But…I’m just a stick! I won’t do any justice to Chat Noir’s muscles and abs!” For effect, Adrien poked his shoulders. “See? Skin and bones.”

“Nonsense~ my stylists have commented about your developing muscles during your shoots. All those fencing and basketball lessons have been paying off,” Mr. Agreste chirped with a cheesy grin, pushing his glasses back against the nose. Adrien was immediately reminded of those dopey glasses characters in the hundreds of anime he’s watched. 

“Besides, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng will be picked up by Vincent and his crew in five minutes to meet up at the venue and dress as your counterpart.” Nathalie added, scrolling through her tablet. She then flickered her eyes towards the boy’s curious face, glasses glinting under the light for a split second. “You wouldn’t want her to be paired with any other random Parisian, right?” 

You see, Adrien is usually a very bright boy, evidenced by his top grades, ability to adapt and so on.

This is not the case right now.

Completely dismissing the disastrous problem awaiting him, Adrien’s mind was clouded with utmost jealousy. Images of his talented Princess being oogled by some…some random KID in HIS costume…making her SMILE and even…HOLDING HER HAND??? 

‘Oh my God…what if they try to make the boy kiss my Marinette?’ Adrien screams internally, dismissing another important factor before jumping out of Gorilla’s grasps (who coincidentally loosens his grip) and darted inside the vehicle. 

“TO THE VENUE! ONLY I CAN BE THE CHAT NOIR TO MARINETTE’S LADYBUG!” The boy beeped the horn for good measures. 

“Why didn’t you use my daughter-in-law’s name to coax him in the first place, Nathalie?” Gabriel’s eyebrow twitched with irritation. His assistant simply mirrored the look. 

“It was one way I was able to get you to do some workout, sir.” Her eyes narrowed further but inside, she was fighting a grin when Gabriel spluttered. “After all, someone has been gaining a few extra pounds ever since we got friendly with your future in-laws.” 

“I-I have no idea what you mean!” Her boss harrumphed, entering the limo with a grumble. Nathalie didn’t miss the way he clutched his stomach with a pout. “It’s not my fault that they don’t let me leave till they’ve fed me three helpings of dumplings…”

Meanwhile, Marinette is kidnapped hauled away by Vincent, Alya and the rest of the girls from her class, much to her protests. Sabine and Tom watches the scene unfold with a cup of tea in hand and some sweets. Their smiles only broadening. 

“Alya-aaaa! Lemme go! Lemme go-ooooo!” What good was being Ladybug when she can’t seem to escape her best friend’s shoulder, getting carried away like a THING? Marinette let out another huff as the girls finally made way outside, a car waiting for them. 

“You can keep wriggling and fighting but you���re no match with Mama Bear Alya’s muscles~!” Her best friend hooted, flexing her free arm with exaggeration as the rest of the group giggled. “And gurl! You’re light as hell! What the heck? No wonder you can’t make me budge.”

“I am big and strong! I can take you all in one go! I’ll prove it right now!” Marinette retaliated. No one took her seriously. “I just wanted to be a backup dancer and so did Adrien!!!” The girl resorted back to whining again, flopping in defeat.

“Really? He was actually pretty adamant in taking the Chat Noir role.” Mylene nodded as did the others. 

“What? Since when? We both agreed to be backup with you girls yesterday night during a call.” 

“Someone call Barbie Doll right now,” Alya suggested whilst shoving Marinette inside the car unceremoniously, ignoring her groans. Alix rolled her eyes, whipping her phone out and got inside the vehicle, purposely squishing Marinette against the car’s door on the other side so that she had no means of escape. 

The model finally picked up when the girls were on the road, his annoyance clear through the speaker.

“Don’t tell me you girls are already at the venue and some loser stole my role- the traffic here is mental!” Rose and Juleka hid their snickering at this. 

“What role? Adrien! We agreed to be backup dancers- what’s with you wanting to be Chat Noir now?” Marinette butted in, glaring at the phone despite the recipient not being able to see her face. 

“O-OH!? Morning Princess~”

“Don’t ‘Princess’ me you big, annoying, dummy-”

“Okay, Sweetcheeks it is then,”

“NO.”

“Sugarberry?”

“STOP.”

“But Darling~”

“ADRIEN!”

“Hey, now listen here. I didn’t do this on purpose ya know? I was all decked up and ready to be a backup dancer but Pere and Nathalie had other plans!”

“And you went along with it?” 

“They had to get the Gorilla to literally get me out of the house! Give me some credit here, Marinette!” Adrien groaned, slumping against his seat, knowing very well that his trio of guardians were all wearing matching grins under that poker face of theirs. 

“A-Ah, okay, so basically the same thing as me then, right?” Marinette almost felt bad for going off on him.

“Mmhm, besides,” 

“Oh?”

“I refuse to let any dumb boy take away MY woman.” Marinette could literally feel the cat radiating from him, annoyance pumping through her veins. Of COURSE he relents into his father’s whims due to jealousy! A tiny part of her brain was rather flattered, making her heart flutter but the raven haired girl immediately brushed those thoughts away. 

“You never really put up much of a fight after you found out I was gonna be forced to play Ladybug, right?” The baker girl’s tone was dry as hell. 

“Your point?” She couldn’t believe Adrien had the nerves to answer like that.

“YOU BETTER WATCH YOUR ASS AGRESTE! COS WHEN I’M THROUGH WITH YOU-”

“Oh please do be gentle~”

“ADRIEN!?”

“Love ya~~~mwah!” With a triumphant grin, Adrien hung up the phone. He knew very well of how much trouble he’s in but he’ll focus on that hurdle when it comes to it. Gabriel and Nathalie only eyed the teen incredulously, the former pinching the bridge of his nose. Why oh why is his son like this…?

Both cars simultaneously arrive at the venue, making Adrien realise how much danger he’s in. He could literally feel Marinette’s rage seeping out of the car. Nathalie pretty much kicked him out so that he can face his responsibilities. Both he and Mari have a stare off- the latter itching to throttle him whilst the boy whistles innocently. 

Marinette doesn’t get a chance to drag Adrien away as they’re both led into the venue by their peers, finally seeing people trying out the superhero roles. It was then that Adrien recalled why he and Mari settled to be backup dancers in the first place.

“Oh shit…” Adrien finally uttered when a boy slipped on the Chat Noir mask. His eyes then drifted to Marinette, wincing at her pointed glare before averting his gaze again. He fucked up. Their identities are screwed! 

The duo were too preoccupied with their thoughts to process Clara’s enthusiasm and squeals, babbling about how they’ve been going through hundreds of candidates for hours. 

“Wait- how come those two get the role immediately? We don’t even know if they’re good enough!” One of the teens exclaimed, hands on hips and glowered. Clara sweatdropped at this. “We’ve been waiting here for ages! Is this all for nought?”

A light bulb appeared on both the secret heroes’ heads, both wearing a matching grin as they turned towards each other.

‘You thinking what I’m thinking?’

‘You bet so, Princess~’

‘Don’t call me Princess. I’m still mad at you.’

‘Oh boo…’

Marinette and Adrien were quick to agree with the teen, claiming how they should wait like everyone else so that there’s a fair chance without paying mind to Gabriel’s glares. The rest of the girls lined up for the backup roles, wishing the duo good luck whilst the adults were pulled away elsewhere. 

“Thank God…” Marinette sighed in relief. She vowed to give the teen an autograph the next time she’s transformed. The girl looped her arm through Adrien’s, both of them sticking with the Chat Noir line (the staff knew they were going to perform as a packaged deal so they didn’t necessarily have to wait separately). 

“You got a plan Bugaboo?” Adrien was met with a snort but all he did was roll his eyes fondly. “Aight, still mad, no nicknames. Got it,” With a smirk, he tried kissing her cheek to soften her up but his lips met her hand clasping his mouth instead, blocking him.

“Adrien…” The boy deflated at her disappointed tone. This is what he was worried about, disappointment. “Ugh- I can’t even be mad at you for long. We were both forced into this.” He almost perked up. “But you didn’t even attempt to sneak away when your father was distracted. You’re usually really good at that, dummy.” She playfully punched his shoulder.

“Forgive me?” Adrien’s eyes twinkled like a kitten. The aspiring designer found herself melting. 

The model considered her blush as a win, engulfing her in an ecstatic hug despite Mari trying her best not to care. 

‘They really do make a perfect Ladybug and Chat Noir…’ Clara mused at the front. She’ll endure another hour of the other candidates trying out the roles happily if it meant that she could get THOSE two in. 

Marinette’s plan involved not only losing the masks in the changing rooms but also messing up their try out as much as possible. The duo were also quite shocked to see Chloe audition and actually do a good job! As much as she’s a pain, that’s one less hurdle to jump over for them. However, Chloe’s attitude and rudeness really put Clara off so she didn’t make it through the auditions.

By the time it’s our superheroes’ turn, they put the plan to action. The masks were conveniently hidden away and the duo botched up everything they were meant to do for the auditions.

They clasped their hands like a handshake when asked to hold hands, they flopped on their faces after every acrobatic move, Adrien even fell off stage at one point, only bruising his knees and a blow to his pride. Clara and Gabriel didn’t give up on them; they found the masks and beckoned the duo to put them on.

We have the tense moment where time goes still as Marinette and Adrien eyes the masks in their hands. Silent apologies are given to each other as they slowly brought the masks closer to their faces. 

As per canon, Chloe barges in with the Mayor in tow, piles of paper in hand, claiming that Clara has no permission in shooting in France. The poor singer gets her mike thrown on the floor, much to Marinette and Adrien’s protests. Alya and co try to help Clara up but the singer runs off crying. Gabriel quietly shuffles inside one of the bathrooms, locking it and transforms into Le Papillon to akumatise the woman. 

Soon, Frightningale makes her debut, whipping everyone with her wand and turning them to statues if they didn’t sing in rhymes and dance. Marinette lures herself and Adrien into one of the changing caravans so that they can transform.

“Once again, Butterfly Breath and Little Miss Brat saved us. I thought they’re the villains as well,” Marinette hummed. 

“Hey.” Adrien flicked her nose softly. “Don’t be mean to Chlo’,” His shit eating grin only grew at Marinette’s gaping face.

“E-Excuse me!? Don’t be mean to the girl who made Clara Nightingale CRY-” She stopped mid rant and scoffed, refusing to play into anymore of the boy’s teasing. Tikki and Plagg floated out from Marinette’s twin ponytails, admiring their costumes once more. 

“You should really do something about your childhood friend, Adrien.” Tikki scolded.

“Hey! My kitten isn’t obliged to parent that bossy brat into a decent human being. He tried to anyways and it’s like she’s deaf to anything that’s humane!” Plagg countered back. The kwamis fell into an argument in a language that neither teens could understand. 

“I’ve reprimanded Chloe about her behaviour so many times, I’m starting to feel like a broken record. The more I tell her to stop, the worse she gets,” Adrien fiddled with the mask as a gloom settled in the vicinity. “Maybe she’s a lost cause…” The idea of losing hope in a friend he’s known since he was born was enough to have his chest tighten in pain. 

“Or maybe we’ll have to give her a wake up call.” Marinette suggested with a smile, laying a hand on his forearm. “This isn’t your fault. It’s her parents’ responsibility to discipline her- not you. From what I’ve seen, you’ve told her off more in a week than her father probably has in her entire lifetime. That’s better than nothing.”

“What’s the point if it doesn’t do shit?” 

“The point is that you’re trying, you’re doing your best. You’re doing what you can to help her rather than being a doormat or letting her walk over people in front of you. I don’t think you’ve realised that the torment she used to spread has lessened in school ever since you’ve arrived.”

“…” Adrien bit his lip before glancing back at Marinette, swiftly turning her around so that he could embrace her from behind. He rested his forehead on her shoulder and pressed her back into his torso. “If it weren’t for you in my life, I wouldn’t even be half the person I am now…thank you Marinette…”

All the words disappeared in her throat, face redder than a tomato. Marinette mustered the will to put her hand on his head and let her fingers comb through the tresses. 

“Where’s all this coming from?” The girl finally asked. 

“Nothing…just super grateful that you exist, Bug.” He slowly picked his head up and puckered his lips against her cheek with a pure, innocent, softness that could be rivalled by silk. Both of their hearts sped up in sync as they tried to decipher each others feelings. Is this just a grateful kiss?

Or…

Is it something more?

Feeling like her heart was about to burst out of her chest, Marinette promptly spun around to face Adrien and crashed her lips against his, pushing the boy against the wall. She was deaf to the kwamis’ sudden protests as they were pulled into the miraculouses, transforming the teens into their original suits.

Ladybug tugged and tugged on Chat Noir’s bottom lip, eyes squeezed shut as both her slender hands cradled his face. The sweetness of their lips was a huge contrast of the ferocity and passion of their feelings, evidenced by the gasps they let out. 

She didn’t pull away, no. She kept going after his lips over and over again. His touch was like fire on her body and she was burning. 

“Mm- Bug…Mari…Hm- Marinette-” She cut him off with a kiss everytime he uttered a word. Chat Noir knew that if he were to die now, he’d die happily. Ravished and thoroughly kissed by the one he loves. When his Lady’s swollen lips trailed down his jaw, teeth barely grazing his skin, Noir gripped her shoulders and gently pushed her back. 

His entire face was flushed and his eyes were glazed, as if he was in a dream like state. He let out an exhale, leaning his forehead against hers when she wrapped an arm around his middle. From all their past experiences, Ladybug knew that his silence was due to embarrassment, especially when she took the reigns. She decided to put the nail in the coffin.

“I’d be nothing without you,” Ladybug whispered into Chat’s human ears, lips brushing the shell before skipping out of the van. A sly smirk escaped her when the sound of a body tumbling on the floor and a soft groan was emitted by the boy. 

“Hnnnn that girl is gonna be the death of me, godammit!” 

Just like canon, they attempted to fight Frightningale but ended up getting zapped by the whip. They sing and dance their way through, using the lucky charm to their advantage and even waltzing at some point (whether that was to deter the akuma or just an excuse to hold each other close, neither of them admitted). 

Once purified, Clara is quick to coo and thank the heroes, even flustering them when she mentioned how much of a cute married pair they are. The Heroine whispers an alternate plan for the video so that not only would Clara not get in trouble for shooting, there’d be a way to incorporate many people. Ladybug and Chat Noir are quick to leave when she asks how many kids they have and if their children had the same costumes as them.

The episode ends with the whole class watching the video at the library, commenting and cheering whenever one of them showed up. The video ends with Marinette wearing a Chat Noir mask and Adrien wearing a Ladybug pair. This gave Alya and the girls the opportunity to tease the lovebirds about their terrible auditions before the shooting. 

“You’re right! I’d make a terrible Ladybug. Besides, I think black is more of my colour, don’t you agree, Buggaboy?” Marinette teased, eating up the way Adrien’s cheeks reddened for a split second. He knew she was never going to let up the fact that he almost combusted on the spot when she wore his mask.

“Always knew you were a furry, Marichat,” He delivered with a wink, his ego boosted with the way everyone else burst into laughter despite Marinette’s incredulous disagreements. 

“I didn’t sign up for this! Hmmph! Not even the real Chat Noir would be this mean,” She blew a raspberry and crossed her arms, slouching on her seat. 

“You’re right, he’d treat you like the princess you are,” Adrien quickly swooped in, kissing her brow. The crease between her brows softened as a result and a light blush decorated her cheeks. They darkened when everyone else quipped with how ‘smooth’ or ‘cheesy’ Adrien was being. 

“Just get married already!” Kim sighed in mock disgust. “Your flirting has put all of ours combined to shame, Agreste,” 

“Wasn’t aware that you guys knew how to flirt,” The cheeky boy clicked his tongue, quickly darting off whilst his boy group gave chase (along with Alix). A few mock threats were heard before the noise faded away, out of the door.

“Think they’ll keep him alive, Mariboo~?” Alya nudged her best friend’s shoulder, stealing Adrien’s seat. 

“I think they’d do me a favour if they killed him.” Marinette huffed.

“You don’t mean tha-aaaaat,” 

“You’re right, I don’t,” Marinette dropped the hard to get act and squealed, the rest of the girls joining, huddling her into a group hug. 

THE END.

I HOPE THIS WAS AIGHT! 

#my asks #my aus #kiss au #ml #mlb #miraculous Ladybug #miraculous Ladybug and chat noir #frightningale #season 2 #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #chat noir #gabriel agreste #nathalie sancoeur #gorilla #alya cesaire #mylene haprele #rose lavillant #juleka couffaine #kim le chien #nino lahiffe #clara nightingale #alix kubdel #adrinette #adrienette #marichat #ladynoir #ladrien #plagg

[lilyvandersteen]

Out of the Blue: Chapter 7

Cover art: @redheadgleek​

Beta extraordinaire: @hkvoyage​

Links: AO3, FF.net

Author’s Note:

Yep, exactly what it says on the tin. Someone's got it out for Kurt and Blaine...

Chapter 7: Sabotage

“When I consider,” she added, in a yet more agitated voice, ‘that I might have prevented it! – I who knew what he was.”

(An excerpt from Pride and Prejudice, by Jane Austen)

The morning of the shoot, Blaine was up even earlier than usual, and arrived at the location even before his brother. A good thing, too, seeing as it was pure chaos, and he needed to solve quite a few problems and tell everyone where to set up their stuff and how the décor was supposed to look.

By the time Cooper arrived, the set looked as it should, and Coop nodded approvingly.

“Are Kurt and the others here yet?”

Blaine shook his head. “Still early.”

“Then go make yourself pretty now. Reena’s just arrived. She can do your hair and make-up first.”

When Reena had worked her magic, Blaine wriggled into the tight jeans he’d be wearing for the commercial and then walked around the warehouse helping out where needed while he was waiting for Kurt.

Kurt was supposed to be there at eight, but stepped into the warehouse at a quarter to, gaping at the hustle and bustle and seeming very much out of his depth.

Blaine hastened towards him, and tugged him along to Kyle and Reena, feeling in the best of spirits, especially when he saw Kurt give him a thorough once-over, with a glint in his eye that proved he liked what he saw.

His mood plummeted when Kurt, once again, made it all about Cooper. Ugh.

Kurt seemed to realise he’d said something wrong, but his bumbling apology made matters worse rather than better, and Blaine gritted his teeth and told himself not to lose his temper.

Cooper came to smooth things over, at usual, but Blaine wasn’t in the mood to humour him, and left Kurt in Kyle’s capable hands as soon as he’d told him what Kurt’s look was supposed to be.

He turned back, though, when Kurt hesitantly asked if there were changing rooms, and there was a loud scoff.

Chandler! Oh, I might have known the little weasel would make trouble… He had better not mess with Kurt!

Chandler was a new hire, fresh from Parsons. He helped Kyle, mostly, but also assisted Reena if she had too much on her plate.

When he’d first started working for the Anderson firm, in June, he’d followed Cooper around like a yapping dog, forever gushing. Two days later, he’d asked Cooper out, and had seemed miffed when he was let down gently.

After that, Chandler had zeroed in on Blaine as the next best thing, and had started his spiel with him. Blaine wasn’t any more interested than Cooper had been, so he tried as hard as he could to avoid Chandler, and if he couldn’t, he pretended not to hear or not to understand his innuendoes and invitations.

Chandler proved persistent, though, and never gave up, so in the end, Blaine had to tell him plainly that he was wasting his time.

Ever since, Chandler had walked around the sets with a face like thunder, doing as little as he could get away with and slyly instigating fights between models or giving them wrong clothes on purpose. Blaine had started documenting every misstep Chandler made. He wanted the guy out, but Coop refused to fire him without solid proof of misbehavior. “We can’t afford to lose an employee! We’re run off our feet as it is! Also, he’s the kind of guy who’d sue us for firing him, you just know it.”

So Blaine bided his time and built his case bit by bit, without Chandler being the wiser.

Now, the guy seemed to have zeroed in on Kurt. Maybe because Blaine had greeted him with so much enthusiasm?

Whatever the reason, Blaine would watch him like a hawk. No-one would harm Kurt. Not while Blaine was around.

Absently, he stopped Kurt from falling when he tripped over the pants he was putting on, and then sent him to Reena while he helped Kyle unbox the hats. Chandler was supposed to do that, but had disappeared.

It wasn’t until Blaine was introducing Kurt to Mandy and the other handlers that he saw Chandler again, skulking around the horses with a smirk on his face.

Blaine sent him back to Kyle at once, and hoped that the misgivings he felt would prove to be an overreaction.

When he saw the saddle slide off Kurt’s horse when he tried to mount it, he knew that his hunch had been correct. Chandler was targeting him. Sabotaging him.

Blaine maneuvered his own horse closer to Kurt’s, and sighed in relief when the next half hour, nothing out of the ordinary happened.

Just as he was lulled into complacency, though, he saw Chandler pop up again in his line of vision, and he was holding… Was that a sparkler? The guy was mad!!

Blaine rode in Chandler’s direction, hoping to wrestle the sparkler from him before it went off.

Too late! Chandler threw it in front of Kurt, and it exploded with a flash and a bang, spooking the horses, especially Kurt’s.

Thankfully, Kurt was a good enough rider to keep the animal under control and to stop it from trampling anything or anyone.

Blaine was livid, though. He signaled to Jason from Security to follow him, and chased Chandler, who was now running away.

Blaine blocked Chandler from leaving the warehouse and had Jason take him into custody until Cooper would deal with him.

Then he had to go back and smile and sing and pretend to have a nice evening out with friends. With the rage that simmered inside of him, it was hard pretending everything was fine, and Blaine found himself slipping towards the end, glaring at Puck when he belittled Kurt.

As soon as Kurt and his friends were gone, Blaine confronted his brother, showing them the footage of Chandler throwing the sparkler. It had all been caught on camera, and was all the proof they needed to get rid of this psychopath.

“Don’t you dare put your head in the sand again! This guy is dangerous, and we need to get rid of him!”

Cooper nodded, his mouth a thin line. “You’re right. Kurt could have been hurt or killed. My future brother-in-law!”

Blaine quirked an eyebrow at his brother, but he seemed completely serious.

“Consider him gone, squirt. I’ll fire him and sue him for damage.”

“What damage? Nothing was destroyed. Kurt is an excellent horseman.”

“We know that. But Chandler doesn’t, and neither will his counsel. We’ll give the money to Kurt, as grievance compensation.”

K&B

It took nine months until they heard from Kurt again.

Blaine had done his utmost to get rid of the crush that would never go anywhere, seeing as Kurt preferred Cooper.

Still, when Coop waved a wedding invitation at him and sing-songed, “Look what your Kurt sent us!”, Blaine felt his heart skip a beat, and he snatched the card out of Cooper’s hands.

“My, my, someone’s eager!”

Blaine paid no attention to his brother’s teasing and focused on the wedding information.

The people getting married this time were Mercedes and Sam. That last name rang a bell. That was the blond cowboy from the jeans commercial, and probably also the Jaws guy that proposed at the Halloween party.

The venue was a church in Ohio.

“Ohio?”

Cooper grinned. “Yep, they’re originally from Ohio, like us. Lima. That’s about two hours from Westerville.”

“You’re going all the way to Ohio to attend a wedding? Of two people you don’t know?”

Coop looked offended. “Hey! I do know them! Just because you’re unsociable and taciturn doesn’t mean I am! They were at Brittany and Santana’s wedding, and then at the Halloween party too. I danced with Mercedes and talked about modelling with Sam. Booked him for several ads, and talked to him at the shoot each time. So there.”

Blaine shrugged. “Okay. Yeah, I’ve talked to Sam too. We’ve done quite a few ad campaigns together by now. He’s into Star Wars, like me. Gave me some great recs for FinnPoe fanfic. He’s nice, I guess. A very laid-back guy. Never makes a fuss about anything.”

“So put it in your Outlook calendar. We’re going to Ohio next month!”

“Yay.”

“You could sound a little more enthusiastic, you know.”

Blaine rolled his eyes, and then jumped up with his arms in the air. “Yaaay!!”

Cooper beamed. “That’s more like it. Any suggestions as to what I should buy them? It’s a pretty boring wedding registry list this time around.”

K&B

Blaine suppressed a sigh and pretended to sip his wine. As soon as the Anderson brothers had arrived home for the weekend, their mother had arranged for the whole family to go out to dinner, and surprise, surprise, when they entered the restaurant, a business partner of their father just happened to be there with his wife and daughters, and invited the Andersons to come sit with them.

Clearly, Pam Anderson hadn’t given up on matchmaking. Not that it would ever work. Cooper was charming, but slithered out of any attempt the girl made to score his phone number or a date. And Blaine, well, he was gay, no matter how deep in denial his parents seemed to be about that. So the girl sitting across from him was out of luck. He did try to be friendly and sociable, though. After all, his mother’s scheming wasn’t the girl’s fault.

His father became more boisterous and talkative after a few glasses of wine. The endless stream of words that came out of his mouth made Blaine despair of ever getting out of there. He’d been working long hours all week, and was exhausted and cranky. All he wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep.

Cooper had bags under his eyes too, but he smiled and talked as if he was having the time of his life. Sometimes, Blaine envied Cooper’s easy manners.

The more exuberant their father got, the more he gesticulated, until at one point, he knocked Blaine’s glass over. It was still full, and the wine soaked and stained Blaine’s shirt and pants.

Blaine grimaced and excused himself from the table. When he turned around the corner, he bumped into someone, and started apologizing until he noticed exactly who it was. Chandler!

“What are you doing here?” he hissed.

“Is anything the matter?” a cool voice said.

Blaine looked at the newcomer, and froze when he saw it was Kurt. Chandler smiled at Kurt and slid his arm through the crook of his elbow. What? Were they dating?

“Nothing’s the matter, sweetie,” Chandler purred, patting Kurt’s arm and smirking at Blaine.

Kurt quirked an eyebrow, and then took in the stains on Blaine’s clothes. “Oh dear, you need to get those stains out stat before they dry in and become even harder to get out. Pour some really hot water on the stains and they should disappear. I hope the restrooms here have hot water on tap.”

Blaine hated that Kurt had to see him like this, and hurried away with a quick “Bye!” thrown over his shoulder.

The restroom, of course, only had cold water, so he had to go back to his table with the stains still there, shivering because his shirt and crotch were so cold and wet.

Cooper took one look at him, got up and announced that he would drive Blaine home, waving off their parents’ protests and glibly excusing himself to their father’s business partner and family.

“Thanks for giving me an out!” Coop said when they were in his rental car. “I was getting bored.”

“Same. Hey, you know who I ran into while going to the bathroom?”

“Kurt, right? I saw him a few tables over, with Sam and Mercedes and their family. Probably the rehearsal dinner.”

Blaine scowled. “Not just him. He was with Chandler, of all people.”

“Chandler? As in the guy I fired and sued?”

“Yep. They seemed pretty cosy.”

“Wait. What? You think they’re dating?”

“Looks like it. Do you think Chandler’s plotting something else? To get back at the lot of us? Should I warn Kurt?”

Cooper whistled long and slow. “It’s possible. But I don’t think Kurt will believe you. It’s your word against Chandler’s, and you’ve been too rash with your accusations before.”

Blaine clenched his jaw. Yes, that was true. But he was scared for Kurt, and anyone else Chandler might target. “Do we still have that private investigator following Chandler around and documenting his every move?”

“Yep. You said to keep tabs on him for at least a year. Because you thought he’d try and retaliate.”

Blaine raked a hand through his curls, and winced when his fingers were instantly coated in hair gel. “I have a really bad feeling about this. I’m going to get in touch with the P.I. to see what Chandler’s been up to lately.”

Coop shrugged. “Go ahead, squirt.”

The phone call to the PI, and the pictures and videos the man e-mailed to him, made Blaine even more uneasy. 

Chandler had moved to Ohio after he’d been fired, and was now living with his parents again. He’d found a job in a wedding dress store, and had done nothing interesting until the day Kurt and his friend had turned up at the store. The PI told Blaine that they’d come out of the store without the woman trying on any dresses, and the video he’d taken showed Kurt looking displeased, and telling his friend that Chandler didn’t have a clue what would look good on her. The rest of the conversation was even more enlightening. Apparently, Kurt had briefly dated Chandler in high school. Was that why Chandler bore him a grudge? Because things hadn’t worked out then? If so, why were they dating again now?

After Kurt and his friend had left the store, Chandler had quit his job, just like that, and had started stalking Kurt, following him around whenever Kurt was in Ohio to help his friends prepare their wedding. Chandler had also orchestrated “chance meetings” with Kurt at all the important places: the bakery for the wedding cake, the flower shop for the church decoration, the venue for the reception and dinner. Not at the church, but the PI had spotted him there, too.

“He’s forever snooping around without making it seem so,” said the PI. “If he weren’t such a fucker, I’d employ him. He’d be good at this job.”

Blaine shuddered at the thought of Chandler as a PI. That would lead to blackmail, for sure.

“He’s been back at the bakery, the flower shop and the restaurant several times. Under several pretexts, and dressed up differently, so as not to be recognized.”

So far, Chandler hadn’t done anything harmful, though. That was the PI’s conclusion.

“I’m sure he’s planning something,” Blaine told him. “And it won’t be pretty. The wedding is tomorrow, so I need you to hang on to Chandler like a barnacle. Maybe contact a colleague so that you can shadow him around the clock. I wouldn’t put it past him to try something tonight.”

“Around the clock? That’ll cost you!”

“I can afford it, trust me.”

“All right, I’ll see what I can do.”

“Call me the minute he steps out of line, understood?”

“Will do.”

#bbb2020 #blaine big bang 2020 #klaine fanfiction #my fic #out of the blue

[cab-the-maned-wolf]

New Chapter 20: Team, Assemble for my Zootopia Fanfiction Hidden is up now!

You can read a sneak preview and find the links to the full chapter after the break!

12 years ago

"I hope I am not interrupting anything important?"

Glinting predatory eyes were regarding Jack dangerously as the black furred panther stood in the doorway in a rather laxed manner, paws in his pocket and head slightly tilted as he waited for the stunned bunny's answer. Jack on the other paw had lost his composure completely. The bunny was trembling, his eyes wide and mouth agape in disbelief, his stomach churning as fear and unease began to settle into his small body. Jack's mind was running wild as he gripped the doorknob tightly until his knuckles turned white.

He had no idea how this mammal knew of his whereabouts, how this panther knew exactly where he lived. Judging my his relaxed stance and nonchalant greeting, Jack knew that the panther had found exactly what he was looking for, and he seemingly knew exactly where he would find it. It had been more than two years now, and Jack had thought he had left his past behind, he thought he was free from the sins he had witnessed. But it was well known that karma was a bitch. There had been always a tiny part inside of Jack's mind that knew that he would have to pay for what he had done sooner or later. And now it was time to pay off.

Glancing over his shoulder, Jack could see that Skye was seemingly way too focussed on the movie to notice his situation. The vixen's eyes and ears were solely directed at the TV, seemingly oblivious to Jack's dilemma. Proceeding to rather do outside of his home and away from his wife, Jack swiftly stepped out into the hallway before he silently closed the door behind him, his eyes not leaving the smirking panther for even a single second. As soon as Jack was sure Skye couldn't hear them, he glared at the panther before he turned and started to walk down the hallway, the panther following him closely. It was a tense silence, at least for Jack, as the two mammals silently descended the stairs until they exited the building, the two of them stepping out onto the cold night air.

Making sure they were alone as Jack glanced around the empty street, he spun around to glare at the panther as he hissed in a dangerously low tone, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Isn't it obvious?" the panther regarded the bunny calmly, "I'm here so we can get you back to the Magnolia. We still have a lot to do, so you better hurry up before we waste any more time than we already have. You running away actually caused a lot of work to pile up."

"What makes you think I'm gonna go with you?" Jack asked, gritting his teeth as he took a step towards the panther, "You are monsters, you are murderers and criminals, and there's no way in hell I'm going back to that shithole, no matter what you're gonna say! Now leave me alone and don't you dare setting another foot into this building ever again."

The panther regarded the angry bunny for a few silent moments before his smirk broadened, his voice steady and calm, seemingly unmoved by the bunny's rage,

"I can see you have sealed the covenant of marriage," he commented, his glinting eyes falling upon Jack's wedding band. The bunny immediately tensed up as the panther continued, his voice disgustingly sweet as he talked, "What a wonderful tradition. Two mammals, sealed through the bond of love and everlasting trust. What was it again? In prosperity and adversity? Until death... do you apart?"

Jack continued to glare at the feline as he bowed slightly down to his eye level, a mischievous glint in the panther's eyes as he continued,

"You have to understand me, I have the utmost respect for the principle of marriage. There is no greater shame in breaking such a bond. Now, you would do both of us a real favor in coming with me. You finish the work you have started, and I'm not forced to kill her. So what will it be? Either you come with us and she will live, or you can dismiss my offer and I am forced to take her instead. All I want from you is a little cooperation, no?"

Jack's blood froze as he listened to the feline's malicious words, his knees trembling and body paralyzed as he could do nothing but stare at him with wide eyes. Ears hanging limply behind his head, the words echoed again and again through his head like a broken record, playing a never ending song of agony and nightmares.

His life was over. The life he had yearned for, the life he had been looking for so passionately. All of it seemed to be crumbling down into a pile of rubble and debris as he regarded the still smirking panther. He had given him an ultimatum, a dilemma he could impossibly choose from. He was forced to live a life full of crime and atrocities, or otherwise his wife, his Skye would have to pay for something she had nothing to do with. This was his fault. This was his problem, and Jack would be damned if Skye would have to deal with the repercussions he had caused.

Shaking off the initial shock, the bunny clenched his fists as he glared at the feline. He was beyond furious and tempted to just beat down this damn panther for invading and ruining his life. But he knew he had to be careful about this, he couldn't be reckless. He needed time to think..

"This is quite a lot you demand from me," Jack spoke up after a moment, "Can I at least sleep over this?"

Fortunately, the feline just flashed his signature toothy smile, causing Jack to visibly relax as the panther answered, "Of course. I absolutely understand how grave this decision might be for you, so I'm willing to give you all the time necessary to make up your mind. Here's my number, call me when you're ready."

He gave him a familiar business card which Jack hesitantly accepted.

With that the panther bid his adieu as he rounded Jack and started to walk down the empty streets. Jack followed him with his eyes until the dark figure of the feline eventually disappeared around the corner, causing the bunny to let out a weary sigh of relief.

Despite what Jack had said, he had already made his decision...

Read the full chapter here X and here X !

Until next time!

~Bye!

#zootopia #fanfiction #zootopia fanfiction #my works #hidden #nick wilde #Judy hopps #zootopia nick wilde #zootopia Judy hopps #writing #zootopia writing #jack savage #zootopia jack savage #skye #zootopia skye #zootropolis #zoomania #disney #movies

[aphnetherlandsblog-blog]

A Commuter's Pain

Imagine a wheel to wheel line of flashing frames painted colors whirling by. Some squeaking by, others clicking, but all moving in a single close knit group at 8:00 navigating to work. Everyday the same scenario played out when he went into the shop, and even though he himself was use to it, Abel wasn't always prepared for the tourists trying their luck on the road. When coming back from staying in a less frequented city, often it took a few days to realize the danger they could pose to a unprepared cyclist. Not bell nor yell could save one from a crash course straight to remembering people generally suck at riding. As such this is how Abel got reminded about the unsaid rules about trusting and assuming others know what they are doing.

Short Story Start -----------------------------------------------------------------------

    During the train ride back from Haarlem to Amsterdam, Abel couldn’t help but feel relief in the proposal of getting off and checking up on a few things at home.  Even though the trip was only half an hour, he was ready to be done with the business venture of politics for a time, which had consumed most of his days these past months, and get back to his own life. The shop waited for him to return, and he was longing to sit down among the local familiarities of the city away from unnecessary drama that came with election season.  As much as he loved Haarlem, it would be nice to return to a consistent home for a time.  The thought made him smile as memories returned to him about work it took to make the city, Amsterdam, a home.  It wasn’t a word he put meaning to lightly, and even historically he hadn’t considered much to be a home.  A home came with upkeep though, the shop needed to have a look over, he had a meeting, the house plants needed watering, and he should pick up some food - the list seemed to keep growing until he felt a slight lurch pull him indicating the stop.  

The lurch and sudden release of air came made his hair blow back slightly once the doors opened.  As typical the wind was playing, though today it was playing in his favor as it was blowing the direction he needed to go.  As fast as the crowd would let him go, he pushed forward to get to the cycle lane.  Eagerly, and with a push, he joined the flock of riders and let the familiar sound of other cyclists engulf him. Really though, he didn’t mind the bustle, it was better than how it used to be in this city. Strangely, he felt more at ease racing along with fifty other people than he did if they had all been standing.  Perhaps it was the feeling of progress and established freedom that made him feel that way, though he didn’t put much effort into maintaining the thought.  He let himself stay routinely focused on keeping his own space and not invading that of the other commuters.  The men, woman, and others, he was giving his utmost trust in right now without even a moments hesitation.  After all helmets messed up his hair and made it look less formal, and he didn’t have much a desire to look like an eleven-year-old paper boy.

Speaking of boy’s, by chance, he found himself seeing the eyes of a young child staring at him.  The mother of the child obviously dressed for work taking the child to wherever the little one would reside – either with his mom or elsewhere. A small upward twitch reverberated on his face at the kid’s curiosity towards him.  The tyke’s face contorted into a smile before an alarm was sounded.  The familiar noise of a bell came from the front along with yell, then another.  Maybe it was the years of life experience he had racked up or just random chance, but a simple glance at the walk of the family on his right raised his level of alertness and he slowed.  Possibly someone had crashed or was walking in the street?  It was the right time of day for tourists to be out and causing calamity.  As there was too much going on around him to be overly distracted, he tried to scan past the other bikers; however, right as that thought hit him a flash caught his attention to his side as another bike aggressively swirled away.  

Before he could even turn his head to look to his front again, forces beyond his control launched him from his bike over the handle bars and onto the man whom had stopped his bike.  “Kak!” A hard landing left him stunned for a moment wondering what had just happened when he felt another body land on his hips, pinning him.  A few more bells were heard not five seconds after he had tried to fly, when a third bike collided onto the heap delivering a harsh thud to his leg from the handle bar.  “Fuck,” he said as he instinctively went to grab his leg but couldn’t move to get to it.  The resulting motion ended up more like a triangular movement with his arm than the original purpose.  The longer he waiting to get out of this mess, the more rage filled him.  The pain had already left him, and he knew he wouldn’t get any physical injury, the injury to his pride had already been gauged however.  The feeling seemed to be shared by the woman laying on top of him who looked like she was about to slit someone’s throat with only a single blue painted nail.

As he tried to push off the bike pinning him, the woman already up and scanning the battle field, a loud assortment of swearing erupted from their entanglement from all parties involved.  “Are you ok,” a man questioned from his right and another from questioned similarly to his left as people slowed and cautiously scooted in to survey the scene.  How annoying! Abel gave an aggravated wave with his hand as he eyed the other man getting up.  The shirt, the sport shoes, the man was wearing shorts in today’s chilling wind – all of this pointed to him being a tourist.  It didn’t take much to figure that out and obviously the woman had already beaten him on that front.  The fury in her face just kept building as the man just kept swearing like a whining puppy when she erupted. “What are you doing stopping like that? Huh? Are you stupid? Are you broken?”  The anger lashed out as swift bolts of vocal lashes that helped to calm Abel.  Every word she said he wanted to say but was to slow to throw it out.

  Even as the man back away and placed crossed his arms, she kept coming and followed his right out of the lane.  Abel pulled his bike out of the street and went to pull hers as well, not sure if he wanted to get involved in the fight.  His lack of excitement not for wanting to save face, but more for his lack of time.  There were too few minutes today to waste on this moment, and as he pulled his bike out of the street, he checked his watch impatiently.  “I need to go,” he said forcefully to the two though glaring at the man.  He did take a moment to start to move the other two bikes out of the road as well, but during the one sided exchange was ignored by the others.  Urgently he stuck his hand between them to get their attention; By now the man and woman seemed to be in a heated argument but still he had to interject, “stop” he said channeling his inner calm until he heard the backlip. “Stop!” he said loudly and in a commanding voice that brought back memories of his sailing days to the woman and man. “Check your bike and exchange numbers, if there is any damage then we will work it out then,” after all he had places to be, both bikes seemed to be fine, and so did the people.  Plus, even though the man stopped like a idiot in the middle of the lane, by law it was his fault for not avoid him.  The thought annoyed him, thinking of having to pay for anything this guy had caused.

The woman ripped open her bag, holding back a newly crafted beast and threw out two business cards, without a word.  Abel brought out a pen and some scratch paper and jolted his number down along with his first name.  The man looked ready for another go and glared at Abel trying to intimidate him from saying anything and asked, “can I use that?” The sudden urge to punch this man in the face grew more appetizing, despite the consequence.  With a slight finger twitch, the pen dipped sideways in a motion for the man to grab.  The quick snatch and sloppy penmanship irked Abel even more, but he took the paper as cordially as he could.  The woman grabbed it like the man was about to take it back and went to fetch her bike before flipping off the man and riding away. As she passed them, the woman continued on her way with a few parting words that made a frown appear on both the of their faces.

Abel didn’t bother holding in the annoyance in his voice and just held up his hand as he waiting for a gap to jump back into the road.  “Don’t run stop in the middle of traffic like a scared child,” he said as he rejoined the other cyclists.  Some kind of response was given though he didn’t hear it. Not but ten minutes later, did he arrive at his shop.  The windows were tidy, that was a good sign but he would want to take a look at the backroom.  Right away when he walked in and by a series of mirrors to catch a thick black tire line going from his knee to the other. He clenched his jaw and made a note to change immediately once he got home, but for now he had work to do.  

#aph netherlands #aph holland #aph roleplay #aph short story #tw swearing #I think this is a pretty common occurrence for Abel #He can normally avoid this type of thing though

[heomomka]

Oh Sailor Mine

A/N: So I have been working on this since April 2015 off and on, I love reading all the amazing fanfics you creative individuals put out for people like me to get lost in.  But I had this idea for a fic, and with school I knew I would never be able to post it without finishing it completely (because as a reader I hate when I am in reading something and it stops) and so here’s just a little one-shot. Hope you all enjoy and I know it’s probably not the best but it’s been in my docs for almost 2 years now and I reread it today and felt like posting.  Hope you enjoy! 

OH SAILOR MINE

She had this desire toward the captain that was inappropriate for a princess to feel but alas no matter how many times she scrubbed her eyes and pinched herself for her impure thoughts she could not shake him from her mind.  Every time Captain Killian Jones would come into port and gives her parents updates on his most recent voyage, her dreams would always become a little more vivid.  Despite her upcoming age to become eligible for marriage to one of the many suitors her mother restlessly had come visit the palace, her and Killian had established a friendly relationship towards one another.  Though he was the perfect gentleman in front of her parents at dinners and royal functions, anytime they were alone she felt like his blue eyes would change to a slightly darker shade and he would stand more closely to her than what was deemed appropriate from all of the etiquette books her tutors had given her as a girl.  Her days seemed less dull in his company and their discussions held her interest more than any of her potential suitors.

As he escorted her through the garden one hot summer afternoon, she felt like she was going to die of heat in her dress, she kept trying to fan herself but it seemed like the relentless sun gleamed even brighter despite her attempts at relief.  

“Sometimes I wish I could just be rid of all these stuffy layers” she muttered as she sat down on a bench and patted the spot next to her for him to join her.

He got this gleam in his eye and a smug smirk appeared upon his face, “Well, milady, if you ever need assistance, that is a cross I am willing to bear.”  Her mouth dropped open in a state of shock but with his words her lust only made her feel more hot than she was before.  Before she could change the subject and retreat from his close proximity, he took out a pristine handkerchief from his naval jacket and handed it to her so she could dab the perspiration from her heaving chest.  She determined at this point her mouth or her legs just were not able to function anymore as she kept his stare locked with her green flashing eyes.  He gave her one smug half smile and lifted her up off the bench and latched her arm around his and continued escorting her through the path of the garden.  They were silent the rest of the afternoon.

She had only known Killian for six months, he had come to her kingdom one late fall day requesting an audience with her father and mother and had landed a position in the kingdoms navy.  She got to know him as he spent the winter in the palace with the navy as the sailors worked on the ships in port and occasionally took short voyages to close neighboring kingdoms.  The winter months for the kingdom’s army were mainly time of rest and training. Killian rose in ranks faster than anyone in her kingdom had before and was made Captain of the Ivory Swan just three and half months after he arrived on their doorstep. Her father mentioned at dinner one evening that apparently Killian had a past with another kingdom’s navy but had relocated to in hopes to discover a different side of the realm.  One day she asked him about it, and she got the strangest feeling that his story wasn’t entirely truthful but she decided that it wasn’t any of her business to snoop into his past if he wasn’t willing to share it freely.  That had been one of her biggest mistakes she realizes.  

After a week out at sea, Killian brought back one of her potential suitors, per her mother’s request, Lord Gaston.  Lord Gaston drove her absolutely mad during his brief visit to her home.  He constantly followed her around like a puppy and Emma thought she was going to suffocate if he didn’t give her any room to breathe.  The second morning of Lord Gaston’s visit, her mother highly encouraged her to be a respectful hostess and show their guest around.  After a long tour of him babbling on about which light fixture she compared to and how marvelous she would look sitting on one of the settees watching him practice sword fighting with their eldest of seven sons, all she wanted to do was to retire into her chambers and not return until Gaston and his overly absorbed ego was back to wherever he had come from. When she brought Gaston into their grand library she noticed that Killian was lounged on one of the chairs with his nose in a book.

Just as she was about to drag Gaston into another part of the castle, her emerald eyes met his sapphire ones from across the room and a dazzling smile lit up his face.  She could feel her own cheeks turn a faint shade of pink.  Once Killian noticed her other companion he stood up and made his way over to them with a cocky grin and a confident walk of a pirate captain.  “Princess,” he tipped his head in her direction giving her another one of his smirks, “how is the grand tour going?”  

The moment Gaston noticed the naval captain, he became like an alpha dog attempting to mark his territory, he puffed out his chest and slid his arm down Emma’s back to grab ahold of her waist and pull her closer to him.  Emma was about to try to squirm out of his possessive and improper grip but she noticed the way Killian’s jaw slightly twitched and his eyes narrow and darken in on Gaston’s hand around her waist.   She decided she could withstand the brute’s clammy hand just to see her naval captain envious for a moment.  She was only a human after all.

“Well the tour should be over shortly, I am quite certain I have shown Lord Gaston about every inch of the palace.  I believe this will be our last stop, I will need to rest in my chambers after all the exploring” Emma chuckled thankful to use Killian’s question to drop a blunt hint to her lovely companion.

“Ah well I will let you two finish…”

Gaston pompously interjected, “Princess, you have yet to show me your chambers and if you and I are going to get to know each other better, I feel it the utmost I be familiar with your room” his face lite up with a leer as his eyes trailed down her form.

“Excuse me?” her voice carried a mixture of disgust and shock that a court learned gentlemen would ever insinuate such a thing with a lady, especially a crown princess.

She looked quickly to Killian who first had a look of utter shock on his face but as he processed the information Gaston so crudely supplied and his face turned to utter rage.  “You will apologize to the lady mate!” he gritted out his words to Lord Gaston.

“Now, who is this lowly swashbuckling scum that he thinks he can boss around someone of a higher caliber,” Gaston hissed out. She could instantly tell that Gaston’s words hit a nerve with Killian as he grabbed him by the collar, to bring him up close to his face as he repeated his earlier demand.

Emma knew she had to do something before one of these men did something stupid.  She quickly stepped toward the two men and placed her arm on Killian’s, “Killian, it’s okay he’s not worth it,” she spoke directly into his raging eyes.

His grasp on Gaston’s collar loosened and without a second glance at Gaston he confidently turned towards her and gave a formal bow, “Apologizes princess that was bad form.  I hope you enjoy the rest of your afternoon and if you need anything do not hesitate to ask,” and with that he gently grabbed her hand and placed a light kiss upon it and strode out of the room.

As the door to the library clicked shut she finally met Lord Gaston’s eyes and gave him a regal glare, “I trust you will be able to find your way to your own quarters, I think our time today is over.  Excuse me.”

She briskly turned over her shoulder and stopped out of the room leaving her royal guest with no chance to respond.

After a nice long relaxing bubble bath to wash away all the tension from earlier in the library she combed her hair and dressed in a fine gown for dinner.  She left her chambers a little earlier from dinner and somehow found herself in front of Captain Jones’ door.  After a brief moment of hesitation she sharply knocked twice upon his door.  Her heart was beating in anticipation as she heard rustling from behind the door.  As the door swung open she was first met with the sight of a half-naked Killian Jones; after a few moments of staring at his bare chest her eyes finally made the journey to meet his smirking face.

“How may I be of service to you, princess?”

“Um, I, well” she stammered, for the first time in her life no words could come to mind.  Sure she had seen men without shirts on before but she couldn’t help but admire the hard planes of his stomach and his chiseled hair covered chest. Shaking her head and rolling her shoulders back with poise, she regained her voice, “I would just like to thank you Captain, for defending me today.”

“It was the right thing to do,” he humbly stated. “No lady should ever be addressed in such a manner, it is bad form.”

She softly smiled at his words but boldly continued, “I would also like to let you know that I am beyond capable of taking care of myself.”  His only answer was a sharp smile and nod, “and once you finish dressing yourself, I wondered if you would so kindly escort me to dinner tonight, Killian?” her voice was silky sweet as she stole a last glance at his form.

“I would be honored, just give me one moment,” he quickly retreated back into his room and after a bit he appeared dressed in his full captain regalia, “shall we?”

“We shall,” she smiled and interlocked her arm with his.  As they made into the dining room she could feel Gaston’s eyes staring daggers at them. Unfortunately, she was placed to be right next to their guest and Killian was at the other end of the table. Gaston gave a wide grin to her and turned towards her parents to start buttering them up with talk of court. She let out a sigh as she realized this was going to be a long evening.

Later that evening, she found herself on one of the many benches in the garden enjoying the feeling of the crisp night air on her skin.  As she was quietly basking in the moonlight she caught out of the corner of her eye Captain Jones coming out of a palace exit into the garden, he was not in his usual navy uniform and instead was in some loose fitting linen pants and a black loose shirt that was exposing more of his chest than what was appropriate for any naval officer, reminding her of their earlier encounter.  He looked more like a pirate than a strict Captain of the Navy in her opinion.  As she secretly watched him from her place in the garden he looked more carefree and relaxed than she had ever seen him.  As he stared into the night sky, she realized she had more than a young girl’s crush on Captain Killian Jones but she actually desired to get to know him better.

“You like what you see, milady,” he wore a smirk as he continued to stare into the night’s sky. Knowing she had been caught she decided to muster up enough courage to make her way over to his portion of the garden.  They stood side by side, neither daring to look the other face to face yet.

“What captures your attention in the night sky, Captain Jones?”

“Killian, you can call me Killian your highness, if you so desire,” he turned to face her as he spoke.

“Well, then you may call me Emma…Killian,” a soft half smile bloomed across her face as she turned to meet his eyes.

“To answer your question, Emma,” he uttered her name in breathy whisper, “sometimes late at night when my seafarer soul feels restless on dry land, I like to look to the stars. It calms me to know that whether I look to the night sky upon land or sea I can still rely on constellations to guide the way.  Now if I may be so bold to ask, what is a princess like you doing out here all by her lonesome at this hour?”

“I can fully do as I please, captain!” she exclaimed.

“Of that I have no doubt,” he muttered.

She continued, “sometimes I just needed to be outside those restricting castle walls and if it means that walking out in the garden in the night hour is the closest thing to freedom as I can get, I will take it,” she continued.  Their eyes met briefly before her wandered down to his lips for a second and then traveled back up his face to meet his crystal blue eyes once again. Lost in the moment of obligation or propriety they met in a searing kiss that was full of built up tension yet also full of a sense of longing to uncover the other’s scars and desires.  

As there passionate kiss ended with their heads gently resting together. “That was…” he breathlessly spoke breaking the blissful silence.

“I know,” she whispered back into the starry night.  As they both gazed at one another there was a sense of understanding and contentment in those cherished moments under the moonlight.

The next few months they got closer from their morning horseback rides through the woods to their late night garden talks.   Every couple of weeks Killian would be off on a mission from her father and Emma would spend a lot of time in her room.  This had absolutely nothing to do with a blue-eyed sailor being away.  

Despite the heated gazes, or the flirtatious comments they never shared another kiss since the night in the garden.  Not that they hadn’t had some close encounters.

The first day of fall brought crisper temperatures that made it more bearable for afternoon sword fighting in the courtyard.  Her father had insisted on teaching her how to wield a sword from an early age. Her mother had also attempted to teach her the art of the bow, but she had little patience and preferred the fast pace of dueling.

After she finished her princess duties for the day she dressed in a blue vest with a white blouse under and black breeches paired with tall boots and gloves.  She was making her way through the halls on her way to the courtyard when she literally ran into the captain.  After a brief exchange of apologizes he questioned her whereabouts and then proceeded to ask with a sly smirk if she would like an opponent. Her green eyes sparkled at the challenge of knocking a straight-laced naval captain to his knees in mercy.

The sparring lasted for quite some time and they both were fully drenched in their own perspiration during their battle to outwit the other.  She could feel herself being taken over by exhaustion but was determined to win even if she had to fight a little dirty. She went to kick up her leg to send him off guard but he caught her foot and shoved her back lying onto the ground. As their swords locked together he gave her an award winning smirk, “Normally, I prefer to do other more enjoyable activities with a women on her back, bit of advice when I jab you with my sword you’ll feel it.  You might want to quit.”

“Why would I do that when I’m winning?” she asked as she slyly changed their positions so she was hovering above him.

“Aye, you’ve bested me princess, I can count the number of people that have done that on one hand,” he smirked as she stood up straight and reached for his hand to help him up.  Sparks flew through her hand where they were joined and they stood at a loss for words.

The captain glanced down to her lips, to ask for permission, and as she went to meet him half way, they heard someone approaching.  They quickly broke apart, just in time as her father came into view with a few of his most trusted knights behind him.

“Emma, I have been looking everywhere for you?” her father’s voice boomed through the outdoors.  The king then peered between the two guilty looking parties and tensely spoke, “I have seen you have started without me.”

Despite the blush that was starting to bloom across her cheeks, the Princess was quick to dissolve her father of any rash thoughts, “I saw Captain Jones on my way down here and requested him to teach me a few moves. Like you always say father, to be a good fighter is to learn many skills from many different individuals.  I figured with Jones being from another kingdom, he might have some value skills I could learn from,” she smiled sweetly at her father.

Killian interrupted, “Apologies, your highness if I have stepped out of line.”

The King looked between the two and it was clear that he was not quite sold but gave them both a half smile to switch to more comfortable topics for a father. “Nonsense, you might as well join us for our training this morning, Captain.”

After another hour sparring in the courtyard, they headed back indoors.  Emma stole a last glance at Killian before she was carted off for her scheduled fitting for her birthday dress.  Her mother insisted that she have the perfect gown for her ball, and of course that meant the dressmakers would need ample amount of time to make the masterpiece.  As she was forced to stand and be endlessly poked with millions of tiny pins, her mind wandered to her alone time with Killian that morning and she softly smiled.

After a tireless day that was spent attending strict princess duties with her mother, she was looking forward to a nice relaxing bath.  As she made her way back to her chambers she found a note slid under her door:

Dearest Princess,

I apologize for not telling you in person, but my crew and I were given quick orders to leave on an emergency mission and had to leave this afternoon.  I tried to search for you but your maid told me that your mother had you under strict orders.  I don’t know exactly how long we will be gone I am afraid but for once in my life I am looking forward to the time when we again reach the shores of your kingdom.  I hope I am not being too forward, but I will miss visiting with you princess and there won’t be a day that I won’t think of you.

Thinking of You,

Killian

Unwillingly a single tear drop stained the paper as the princess finished reading the letter.  She curled up onto her bed and reread the letter until she fell asleep.

Tonight had been a month since the night she had received Killian’s letter, and as she made her way down the grand stair case to join her birthday ball, she wished that he was there.  She spent the evening dancing the night away with many suitors.  She excused herself from dancing to grab a quick drink and rest her tired feet when she felt someone approach her closely from behind and whisper right into her ear, “May I have a dance, milady?”  As she slowly turned around to meet his gaze she gave him a coy smile and placed her hand into his outstretched hand.  

They spun around the floor and she felt as though her feet were never touching the ground.  “For a captain of the navy, you sure do know how to dance” she chuckled.  His eyes sparkled in response and he pulled her closer to him as they continued to spin around the floor.  Once the music had finally ended, he dipped down to his knee placing a tender kiss upon her hands that left her breathless and vanished back into the crowd.  Though she looked for him, she never saw Killian at the ball again that night. She had hoped to spend more time with him tonight, after their month apart she realized how much she missed her kindred spirit and was determined to take a leap of faith.

At the end of the night, Emma sighed out of relief as she finally took off her shoes to rub her aching feet that were terribly sore from her busy night of dancing.  She thought back to the dance she shared with her dashing naval officer and a faint blush formed over her cheeks, as she wondered why he had left her so quickly.  She kissed her mother and father goodnight and informed her maids that she would be just fine with preparing herself for bed, insisting that she could easily slip off her gown without trouble.  She did not want to be fussed to tonight with taking a bath, or brushing her hair, all she wanted to do when she got in her room was to take off her gown and sleep until midday tomorrow.  As she traveled up the stairs she decided that she would seek out Killian the next day to make her feelings clear and hope he felt the same still.  When she arrived in her room, she headed straight for her changing screen and slipped straight out of her heavy dress and into her nightgown.  As she was making her way to her bed she noticed a figure sitting on her window seal. She started backing away and was about to scream when she recognized the blue piercing eyes of Captain Jones.  She softly laughed to herself for almost alerting the entire castle of her intruder.  “Why, Captain Jones, I think that coming into the princess’ bedchambers at this hour of night is entirely bad form, don’t you?” she teased.  As she made her way over to him she noticed his change in attire.  His figure was dressed in a billowing black shirt that was hardly buttoned and his tight fitting leather pants.  Her confusion must have been easy to read on her face, as he stood up and walked over to her.

“Though I wish I were here for more enjoyable activities, Princess, I am afraid we will be taking a little trip, lass.  Now I suggest you pack up some things you wish to take and be quick about, I don’t want to have to dispose of my fellow members of your father’s royal army my dear” he smirked.  Emma was still trying to piece all of this together.

“Killian, I don’t understand what you are trying to say,” Emma cautiously spoke backing herself away from the dark dressed man and toward her door.  

“Oh, Emma I hate to have to do this to you,” he spoke in a low but sincere and despite his vast change in appearance Emma couldn’t help but gaze into his blue eyes and still feel a sense of trust to the man. “But alas you have left me with no choice, Smee if you will so do the honors” he ordered his eyes traveling past her left shoulder.  She was suddenly hit in the head and started to fall forward but the Killian caught her in his muscular arms before she could hit the ground.  The last thing she saw before the darkness overtook her was his blue eyes that almost looked apologetic.

She buried herself further into the silk sheets when she first awoke, hoping her maids would wait a little longer before yanking the curtains from her windows open. That’s when she noticed the constant but steady rocking of her bed and her memories of the previous evening in her bedchamber came rushing back.  She suddenly sat up and became overwhelmed with a feeling of dizziness. “Well, the princess finally awakens from her slumber” he smirked.  The gall the man had after everything that had happened to her infuriated her even more. She had trusted him and had shared things with him she had never told anyone else.  She tried to ignore her heart breaking as she tried to push away any romantic feeling toward him she could and focus only on her rage.

“So, Captain Jones, or should I even call you as such since you’re a lying scoundrel,” she huffed, “if you would so kindly take me back to my home, possibly my father will overlook your transgressions for kidnapping his only daughter.”

“Sorry my dear Princess Emma, it is my royal duty as a part of your father’s navy to protect the royal family and despite what you may assume, rest assured your kidnapping is only in the finest interest of protecting his only daughter” he smugly finished swaggering towards the bed.

“Do you honestly expect me to believe my father has hired a pirate to steal me away from my bedchambers in nothing but a nightgown, how daft do you believe me to be?”

“Oh, no I certainly did not ask permission from his royal highness, but desperate times call for desperate measures,” he replied sarcastically, “ though now that you mention it  I do have to admit his daughter’s attire is a pleasant site” he winked. “But I am positively sure your mother and father will think less about whether their daughter was appropriately dressed in my company when they read my letter and are informed of your whereabouts.”

“Letter?” Emma questioned then realization sparked in her eyes, “So how much do you think I am worth Captain? How much gold do you wager a princess’ life is worth to a pirate, hmmmm….” She couldn’t believe the man that she had started to fall for was in reality no better than any of ] her suitors.

He let out a low throaty chuckle as she shot a glare at him.  “You misunderstand me, your highness,” he mocked.  “I was sent to work undercover as a humble sailor in your kingdom by the Evil Queen in exchange for my own revenge, ”once he spoke of his ties to the evil queen her face went white with fear and her heart sunk at the betrayal of the man whom she had come to admire. “The original scheme was to get close to your kingdom and to eventually kidnap and take you to Regina.  But there has been a slight change in plans.  We are currently out running a curse your dear step-grandmother is about to cast on the realm,” he replied calmly.  His voice didn’t waver and it held a sense of honesty and care in it that had her believing him.

“And why the sudden change of heart?” she questioned her eyes never leaving the piercing blue ones staring back at her.

“Well though Regina’s offer was tempting, I have decided that I have found something worth living for instead of my revenge,” she could feel her heart piecing back together as he spoke.  “And a change of scenery that doesn’t end with me being cursed for seven years is well worth the exchange, milady,” he replied with a cocky smirk but looking at his eyes she could read the hesitation.

“Seven years????” she questioned after a long pause.

“Well, the curse can only be broken by the savior in her twenty-eighth year so it looks like we are going to spend quite a bit of time together,” he winked.

“Savior? And just who are we waiting on?”

“Why you of course, Swan”

“Me?”

Seven Years Later…

As the time switched to 8:15 the alarm clock in the apartment looking over the hustling city was annoyingly shrieked as a hand reached over the nightstand to turn it off.  The women of twenty-eight years snuggled deeper into the thick comforter and the warm body next to her as she grumbled trying to fall back into blissful slumber.

“Rise and shine, birthday girl” the husky low voice whispered into her ear. Her green eyes finally opened and peered up at him.

“Hmmm…I think this birthday girl needs her first present of the day?” she coyly questioned, batting her feminine lashes at him.

She was suddenly flipped, as his body hovered over hers.  His hair was rumpled from sleep, but his smirk was still plastered onto his face as he held her hands above her head and started kissing down an arm.  “I think that can be arranged, princess,” he winked.

Just before they were getting comfortable, a loud persistent knock echoed throughout the apartment.  The dark headed man sighed into the women’s neck.

“They’ll go away,” she muttered as she urged him to keep going.

Unfortunately, there was a second set of sharp knocks, “Who would be this bloody daft to go knocking on someone’s door at this hour?” he questioned. The women giggled, but at the third set of knocks, a loud cry rang through the house and they knew that their chance for early morning alone time was ruined.  

“I’ll go get the door, you go check on Elizabeth?” the women sighed.

“Aye, sounds like a plan, Mrs. Jones,” he gave her a quick kiss and headed off down the hall.  The women grabbed her robe and headed to the front door.  As she opened the door she was met with a boy of about seven years, with dark hair and dark eyes.  

“Are you Emma Swan?” the boy who couldn’t be older than seven asked.

“Well it’s Jones now, but yeah, who are you?”

“My name is Henry, and I am your brother.”

“Brother? I don’t have a brother, kid?”

“Seven years ago, did you escape a curse and end up in this world without magic?”

The women just stared puzzledly at him.

“I need you to come home with me?”

“And where is that?”

“Storybrooke, Maine” Henry smiled.

Killian came into view with a little girl with dark curly hair and intense green eyes.  He glanced at the boy and then at his wife.  He let out a slight chuckle as he had a feeling that the next chapter of their story was just beginning.

Thanks for reading hope you all enjoyed!

#cs ff #captain swan fanfiction #Captain Duckling #Captain Swan