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sushiwriterhere · 1 year

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coming home to you

summary: "It hit him like this sometimes, all tsunami and three-hundred-mile-an-hour winds and lightning strikes, just how much he wanted you." rating: explicit (18+ mdni - so nsfw it's not funny) pairing: bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x f!reader word count: 3.5k warnings: ass play, somnophilia (slight if you squint-ish), dry humping, thigh fucking, PiV (unprotected, pls wrap before u tap irl), rimming, cum play, squirting, no use of y/n. notes: this is 1000% the most nsfw thing i have ever written so pls dni if ur a minor (srsly im not fucking around) and otherwise pls give feedback!! doing my best with characterization, hope y'all enjoy! my other works are here tagging: @sebsxphia @roosterbruiser @waklman - tagging ppl either by request or whom i feel like are horny for bradley soooo pls let me know if you'd like to be added/removed

He didn’t know when he had become like this, all desperate and needy for your touch.

When you’d started dating, Bradley did his best to be the gentleman his mother raised him to be: opening your car door, always paying on dates, bringing flowers, and walking on the outside of the sidewalk. He did his best not to gawk at you when your dresses cut low on your chest or when you bent over in front of him to pick up the bobby pin you’d dropped in his doorway.

But it really was getting difficult.

You’d started staying nights. Bradley wasn’t a prude or anything like that, he was human and he had needs and he wasn’t going to let some complex about sex prevent him from being with you. But there were things that he wanted that he wasn’t sure you wanted.

It all started when he got home from a long day, far too long, of training. Mav had ‘shot him down’ more times than he could count, and it was a small blessing that each of the penalties had been fifty pushups and not two hundred. Nevertheless, his arms ached and he was developing this nasty knot at the base of his neck that made him want to never put a helmet on again.

When he pushed open his front door, he could hear you bustling in the kitchen, clearly having come over to make dinner. Your jacket was thrown over the back of the couch, your keys in the bowl by the door–god it almost seemed too good to be true to his exhaustion-addled brain. He moved on autopilot as he dropped his bag in the laundry room and made his way to you.

Standing in front of the stove, you were stirring something that smelled like tomatoes and basil and everything heavenly, all the while softly singing along to whatever your phone was playing.

“Bradley! You startled me.” You jumped as his arms wrapped around your midsection and his forehead came to rest on your shoulder, “Missed you while you were at work.”

All he felt like he could do was to just stand there, borderline useless, as you threaded one perfectly manicured hand into his hair and continued stirring with the other. Your nails felt like heaven scratching at his scalp, sending tingles down his spine. God he wanted you so badly.

It hit him like this sometimes, all tsunami and three-hundred-mile-an-hour winds and lightning strikes, just how much he wanted you. It was in the mundane moments mostly–watching you cook, your focused face when you were reading a work email. He didn’t think it would ever stop stealing his breath.

“Bad day.” He mumbled, leaning his weight into you as you leaned yours into him.

He let himself follow your gentle, but stunted, shuffle around the kitchen as you salted the pasta water and threw more spices into the sauce.

“Can I help make it better?”

The complete pureness and kindness in your voice made Bradley feel a little nuts–because that’s just who you were. So giving and open, always there to support him, always there to listen to him rant about his latest spat with Mav or worry about another deployment.

Now it wasn’t like Bradley was just leaving you hanging, but the near-perfect ebb and flow of your relationship made his chest ache. It also made that terrible possessive thing in his chest bare its teeth and whisper dark thoughts. It was the part of him that wanted to hide you away from prying eyes, that bared its teeth when men let their heads follow you across a room.

He’d met you at the Hard Deck. You were new in town and looking for somewhere not too fancy, not too dive-y. You wore this sundress that Bradley knew he’d remember for the rest of his life, and you’d been all teeth and crinkled eyes when you smiled at how he played the piano. He didn’t play the piano for female attention, but when you looked at him like that, well, maybe it didn’t hurt.

You were a bit of a social butterfly, introducing yourself as someone who was looking for friends and did anyone know of the best taco place in town and would the pilots maybe have any beer recommendations? He couldn’t help but be drawn to you. And when you’d given him just a bit of shit about the mustache and Hawaiian shirt combo, it was over for him.

Your relationship progressed at just the pace Bradley preferred–first date he had dropped you off with a chaste kiss on the cheek. On the second date you’d surprised him just a bit by pulling him in by the collar of his shirt to kiss him stupid on your doorstep. You had straight up asked if he was planning on having you stay over before your third date; you wanted to bring your overnight supplies and really you liked being prepared.

Now here he was, with his nose tucked into your neck, back slightly aching from the angle, inhaling what was uniquely you. He didn’t want to come home to anything else on a bad day, or a good day for that matter.

“This is making it better, even though my back is kinda aching.” He admitted quietly, and he was almost offended by how hard your body shook with laughter.

“Okay well, if you let me go, we can eat and watch trash TV then I’ll massage out that knot at the base of your neck.”

Bradley would be a fucking fool not to marry you.

About one Bachelor episode later, Bradley could feel himself starting to nod off despite his best efforts. He had given up a long time ago trying to pretend like he didn’t care, and instead embraced that he loved the drama and the cat fights. He was sitting on the floor leaning up against the couch in between your knees, with your fingers digging into just the right spot. He could die a happy man right here.

The sensation of your fingers pressing into his skin, your nails scratching at his hairline, made something curl pleasantly low in his stomach. There wasn’t anything technically embarrassing about sporting a semi when your girlfriend was giving you a massage, but he still felt the flush in his neck. You had clearly noticed because you let one of your hands curl around his jaw and turn his head to the side so you could press your lips into his.

When your hair tickled his face, he shuddered.

“Let’s go to bed, yeah Bradley?” You cooed, letting your hands fall to his shoulders so you could push yourself to standing.

The two of you stumbled slowly to the bedroom, the move slightly awkward with the way Bradley kept leaning on you but also kept trying to press his lips into yours. Stripping of everything but underwear, Bradley let himself fall onto the bed without getting under the covers. He watched you brush your teeth with one eye open, the bathroom lighting giving your figure a fluorescent backlit halo.

When you made it to bed, you shoved at him, “Go brush your teeth, Bradley, I’m not kissing you if you taste like tomatoes while I’m minty.”

With only a light amount of grumbling and complaining, he forced himself to brush his teeth and complete at least one part of the skincare routine you had set up for him. He didn’t want anything in the way of fucking you tonight–as soon as dinner was over, it had been occupying almost all of his thoughts.

You squealed when he used the remaining amount of his energy to launch himself into bed, bouncing the both of you. For a moment, he just let himself go heavy on top of you.

“Babe.” He grunted in response to the pet name, “You’re heavy.”

Lifting his head, Bradley pecked your lips and pulled back to look at you without rolling off, “Didn’t you want a weighted blanket?”

Your pout made his head spin, “Weighted blankets don’t usually have bony–oof!–elbows.”

Ever the drama queen, Bradley rolled off you with a huff. You giggled at his antics, and the sound of it made him feel like someone had lit his heart on fire.

The two of you settled under the covers eventually, legs tangled together with your face pressed into his chest. Your fingers occasionally stroked down his pecs, the sensation was slightly odd against his fine chest hair but it made him shiver more than anything else. You seemed so comfortable petting him and snuggling into him, so who was he to disturb that.

He felt himself starting to drift off when your lips pressed to his, plush and warm. Your hand stroked his cheek, as if urging him to just drift (don’t think, just do) and let muscle memory guide the way his lips met yours. And boy was he ever content to do just that.

Half asleep, he rutted against you, just giving himself permission to feel and feel good. One of your hands clutched at his hip while the other tugged him into a kiss at the back of his neck, your lips moving gently against his in a wonderful contrast to the way his cock felt grinding on you, despite the two layers of clothing.

“Can I—” He couldn’t think straight at that moment.

He was overwhelmed all of a sudden by all the exhaustion and frustration of the day, by the need to feel you and have you close. He grabbed at his briefs before yanking them down just enough for his dick to be free and he almost groaned at the relief.

You were hardly deterred by how desperate he seemed, and instead took it in stride. But when you went to take your panties off, he stopped you.

“Bradley? What’s wrong, what do you need, baby?” You asked as his hands wrapped around your wrists to center himself.

He cleared his throat, momentarily embarrassed, but overall too desperate and wanting for it to really affect him.

“Can I fuck your thighs?” He whispered. “I want to make you cum first, but after that?”

It wasn’t necessarily the wildest thing in the world; rationally, he knew that. But he never wanted to encroach, never make you feel uncomfortable, didn’t want to make you feel used. It’s just that sometimes when you wore skirts and bent over, or when you were reaching for a glass or plate on the mornings you stayed over and his shirt rode up over the curve of your ass, he could see that spot at the top of your legs where your thighs touched—and all he could think about was what it might feel like to hold you by your hips and slide his cock there.

You shivered and murmured that of course he could. He dragged you over him so that your legs were framing his hips and pulled your still-clothed cunt over his cock. Clearly you were almost as affected as he was with your panties sporting what felt like a decent sized wet spot at the crotch.

But he wanted more. He wanted them soaked so that your thighs were slick with it, so that he could pull them to the side and let the bite of the waistband center you while he pressed his head into your clit. He wanted to lose himself in you.

Your gasps and whines were mind altering, the stuff that Bradley stored away for moments alone while deployed. He tried to let you control the rhythm, just letting himself massage at the fat of your ass and the muscle of your thighs. The broken moan you let out when he dragged his fingertips up your back made him grit his teeth.

He knew you were close when the steady rhythm of your hips began to stutter, as if the mechanics of the motion was all autopilot, whatever it took to get you there. When you came you licked into his mouth and tried to kiss him, but mostly just ended up sloppily pressing your lips together with tongue. Bradley didn’t care though, because the feeling of your soaked panties dragging over his dick was making him feel crazy.

Eventually, he eased you off of him and onto your side so that his chest was plastered to your back. He made easy work of his boxers, sliding them off and losing them immediately in the mess of bed covers. The thin layer of sweat between the two of you was just more evidence of what had happened, and the way you jerked from oversensitivity when he played with your nipples was another reminder. And god, just like he had wanted, the insides of your thighs were slick with the mix of your cum and his precum.

Framing his hips right against yours, he gave an experimental thrust right into that spot he always stared at. He absolutely was not going to last long. Everything was just so much—from the way you kept twitching from the onslaught of sensations to the slight roughness of your panties against him to the way you twisted your head back to kiss him messily. All of it was so much against the smooth glide of your thighs.

Bradley let one of his hands move away from your nipples to pull the fabric to the side, and he groaned at the sensation of his sliding cock sliding up and down the length of your pussy. You wailed at how the head of his dick rubbed right up against your clit again and again and he could feel just how much arousal was pouring out of you. Your hand shot out to grip his hair and he mouthed at your neck, tasting salt and something so distinctly you.

“F-Feels so good, Bradley, always feels s-so good,” You gasped.

When you started thrusting back against him, he was done for. He scrambled to pull your panties further to the side just enough so he could slip the head of his cock into you, and the sensation sent him over the edge. Despite your orgasm, you clenched around him, tight, hot, and everything he had ever wanted and more. A few more thrusts and he felt his orgasm spreading to his fingertips, making his brain go fuzzy. He was sure he was babbling some nonsense as his cock caught on the edge of your hole and the slight resistance made his teeth hurt.

You groaned at the sensation of him finishing in you, content to let him ride out the aftershocks with little stutters of his hips. Eventually, he came back to earth and that bone-deep satisfaction washed away the stress from the day. You two lay there for a moment, catching your breaths.

“Fuck, you’re incredible.” He whispered, easing himself out of you and helping you shimmy out of your underwear.

“Thank you, babe,” His chest felt tight at your tone and the soft look in your eyes as you stroked his cheek when he leaned over you to climb out of bed.

“Anything,” his throat welled up a bit and he cleared it, “Anything for you.”

Honestly, cleaning you up after fucking your thighs was the least he could do. After stripping completely and padding to the bathroom to clean himself off, Bradley wet a washcloth and pulled on another pair of briefs just to be comfortable.

When he got back, you had settled with one of your feet flat on the bed, the knee of the leg closer to him slightly raised with one arm thrown over your eyes to block the gentle light from the bathroom. You looked so beautiful. The rise and fall of your breath accentuated your chest and you looked so at peace.

The moment was broken when his eyes reached the place where he could see his cum dripping down the crease of your ass.

Suddenly Bradley felt very awake. Dropping to his knees on the carpet, he tugged you to the edge of the bed, and tilted your hips upwards.

You were a sight to behold. Your thighs were still wet from where he had been fucking them and your pussy was glistening from your orgasm. But it was the way his cum steadily pulsed out of you, over your puckered hole, and onto the mattress that made him feel like he’d died and gone to heaven. He felt his cock twitch with interest.

“Bradley?” You said softly, slightly confused at the way he seemed to be frozen between your legs when he was usually so determined to get you cleaned up.

His tongue felt like it was made of lead—he couldn’t respond. All he could do was stare as his thumbs gently pulled your cheeks apart so he could get a better view.

The ah sound you made when he stroked his thumb over your asshole felt like a punch in the gut. The stuttered, gasping moan you let out when he finally, finally licked it could have made him finish right then and there.

“Oh god, oh fuck, babe—” For a split second Bradley thought you might pull him away, reject him in that gentle way of yours you always used when redirecting him.

Instead, your hands shot out to his hair and yanked. Hard. Your hips bucked up and you pulled his face into you as he dived in eagerly.

Maybe he’d confess it to you after this was over, but this was the stuff that haunted his imagination when he thought about you late at night. Some primal part of him wanted to be the one to have you every which way you’d let him, and now that he knew that it was on the table, he didn’t think he’d ever be able to get enough. He’d come shockingly quickly into his own fist more times than he could count since he’d started seeing you to the thought of fucking you in your ass, to the thought of rimming you til you couldn’t take it anymore.

The noises you were making were heavenly–moans and whimpers for more. He held your hips down so you couldn’t escape his tongue, his thumbs holding you open for him. It was all you could do–beg for more. The slick pouring from your pussy was overwhelming and the grip on his hair was borderline painful, but it kept him grounded.

“Bradley!” You wailed when he inserted a finger into your spasming cunt and curled it upwards in a petting motion.

He didn’t think he’d ever seen you quite like this. When he opened his eyes, your chest was heaving, your face barely visible from how you’d thrown your head back in ecstasy, a thin sheen of sweat covering your torso. It was potentially the hottest thing he’d ever seen in his life.

When he added a second finger, your hips bucked up so hard he almost lost his grip on you. But he could feel the way you were close around his tongue as it circled and gently pushed past the initial ring of muscles. It took all his focus to not cum in his boxers from the thought of imaging how you might feel, clenched around his cock as he pushed into your ass.

“Babe, I think I’m going to–!” Was all you managed to get out before your orgasm hit you.

Bradley would never forget where he was when he made you squirt for the first time–there, on his knees in front of you, exhausted from a long day of work. The noise you made seemed to be torn from your chest as you rode out your orgasm on his fingers and tongue. For a moment, your body moved on its own accord, chasing and trying to prolong your pleasure.

And in that moment, when he couldn’t resist any longer and reached down to palm himself for a bit of relief, his own orgasm stole all the air from his lungs. Leave it to Bradley to come in his boxers like a high schooler from rimming you for the first time.

Slowly, gently, he pulled his fingers out of you, not missing the way your fingers flexed in his hair and you clenched around him. You tasted incredible as always, slightly salty with something else that was just so you. He’d never get tired of it.

There was a moment of silence before you pushed yourself to your elbows, an absolutely wild look in your eyes, “Bradley Bradshaw you are a menace.” And then you collapsed in a fit of giggles.

He sat there, fingers half way out of his mouth, chest and face soaking wet with you, and watched as you laughed to yourself about how horny he was for you not even moments after he made you squirt.

“Are you making fun of me?” Now he was laughing a bit too.

Then you were crawling over to him as he stood slowly, pulling him down and over you. Your lips pressed together over and over as you stroked his hair, over his shoulders and down his back.

“You silly, horny, man. I love you so much. Let’s shower and go the hell to sleep.”

read the next part of this series here

#bradley 'rooster' bradshaw #top gun: maverick #top gun: maverick fic #bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #top gun: maverick fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #no use of y/n #coming home to you universe

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drawnecromancy · 2 months

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Find the word !

Tagged by @ceph-the-ghost-writer ! Thank you :D

Tagging : @isabellebissonrouthier, @tales-from-nocturnaliss, @queerlilchinchin, @jezifster and open tag ! If you feel like doing this game, do it !

Words I was given : Borrow, Beg, Steal, Manage.

Words I'm giving you : Spiral, Sheer, Cold, Fur.

As usual, I'll be picking around in all of my files, because I'm Like That, and I'll be adding at the end of each passage where they're from.

BORROW

"The wizard turned again to his own work, trying not to stare at the other too much.

This continued for a few days, generally for some hours in the morning, and a few in the afternoons. With permission, he borrowed some books, stating that he’d rather be able to work elsewhere as well. What the prince was doing when not in the wizard’s tower was a mystery, and Velial certainly didn’t want to know. It was almost a week after he started reading, when he was done with the books, that Maran started asking questions." – How the wizard got a lizard

BEG

"He trembled when the sword moved, held by hands he could not see, and begged when it brushed over his chest. The bloody, deformed wolven face drew closer to his, spit and icy water and blood dripping down, the blurry, blue eyes unable to give him a single clue about whether this creature could feel anything.

– Beg again, General, said a voice he had not thought he would ever hear again. Beg and maybe I will consider freeing you.

His own words, thrown back at him a thousand years later. His words that he knew had been lies back then, that he knew were lies now, but he begged anyway. The wolf’s half open mouth twitched, grinned, a nightmare of teeth and cold, and let out a laugh, garbled parody of warmth and humanity. His ears hurt, icy pressure building up, until the sword plunged into his chest, narrowly missing his heart, filling his lungs with blood." – Winter's Rage

STEAL

...surprisingly, none, in any of the WIP files I have. I'll just give you two different ones for "manage" because I have like. A LOT of instances. lmfao

MANAGE

"Anne struggled a little, coughing up some dirt to try to reply something. It tasted bad.

– Aw, you want to defend yourself ?

– What the fuck, she managed to spit out.

Her speech was completely garbled by the dust, but it seemed like Atropa understood anyway." – Meet Cute :3 (Anne/Atropa) [yes that's literally the file's name.]

"How long had it been there, waiting ? How many hours had she devoted to actually doing something useful for both of them while he was useless in his tower, failing over and over at making spells of his own that did not even manage to dampen the effects of the Emperor’s powers ? How easy was it, after replicating the strings, to figure out how the rest of the puppeteering worked, to stop possession from happening ?" – A Realization

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chocolatecakecas · 3 years

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Yeah, Should Have Seen That Coming: Saileen Bachelor Party Ficlet

Congrats to the soon to be Mrs. and Mr. Leahy💚💍!!!

Sam had the brilliant idea to have their bachelorette/bachelor parties on the same night. Two separate parties, at least a week before the wedding to avoid any last minute mishaps (learning from the mistakes of Dean and Cas' party last month). They had thought of everything, Sam even remembered to invite Adam this time. They were each going to have a perfect party with no unforseen issues, because they both deserved a night of fun.

Dean was granted the privilege of being Eileen's best man maid of honor, so he shut down his bar that night, and threw her an absolute rager. He even dragged the stripper pole back out at Eileen's request (though Dean thinks it was a shame Cas wasn't going to be there to use it) and set up a mechanical bull. So of course Cas was chosen to be Sam's best man, and for his party, Sam just wanted a normal, quiet night. Just board games, beer and burgers at the bunker (Crowley was pissed he got stuck at Sam's instead of Eileen's, but Garth was thrilled about the prospect of playing Monopoly). So that's exactly what Cas planned to give him. He makes sure he's got Sam's favorite beer, burgers from the place that makes his favorite vegan burgers, he's taken care of everything. And all Sam has to do is grab the board games from one of the storage rooms.

What could possibly go wrong?

Well, considering Sam and Cas are involved?

Everything.

(read the rest under the cut)

They ended up on a hunt before the party even began. Sam had accidentally bumped into a shelf in the storage room, knocking over a cursed object, and then picked it up without thinking("Sam why did y- "It just looked like a piece of wood!" "It's not, its cursed it's called t-" "Well that doesn't help me now, Cas!"). And so it turned out, they unleashed an ancient curse that if they didn't break by midnight, the world would be "shroud in 5 billion years of darkness". But Sam won't let anyone call Eileen or Dean ("I just don't want to ruin her party!" "Sam the world could en-" "Yeah, but that happens all the time. How often do you get to have a bachelorette party?")

So it was up to Sam, Cas, Jack, Crowley, Garth, and Adam (Kevin was already halfway up the steps and on his way to Dean's bar before Sam even finished explaining what happened).

And a lot can go wrong over a few hours, especially if the threat of the end of world is looming over you.

In the past three hours, they managed to successfully tear apart the entire archives looking for lore, had Jack fly them to three different states to wake up three experts on the subject, fought and killed one of Crowley's old nemesis who had an ingredient they needed for a spell, were briefly transported to a different dimension, twice (Jack was able to get them home, but they had to go back because Garth forgot his phone). Then of course they summoned the wrong ancient god, then had to figure out how to kill them, before they eventually summoned the right one needed to break the curse.

At that point, after some encouragement (yelling) from everyone, Sam finally gave in and tried to facetime and text Eileen, finally allowing Cas to call Dean too.

But neither of them answered because Eileen was currently in the middle of an intense drinking contest between Rowena, Mary and Kevin (who arrived 2 hours ago and mentioned nothing about the curse), while Dean (totally sober mind you) learned he was amazing on the stripper pole, as Charlie, Kaia and Claire cheered him on, and Jo along with some of Eileen's hunter friends were trying out the mechanical bull.

So they were on their own, and quickly running out of time.

But unfortunately for them, the three hours of chaos was a complete waste, since they discovered a bit too late that lore was wrong. Because the weapon that was supposed to kill the God was clearly not working since it seemed to be chasing them around just fine, with a giant stake in it's neck. So they hurriedly decided splitting up would be the best course of action, and they scattered in all directions as they ran into the woods(where they had landed when Jack zapped them back) trying to confuse the God.

Which had been a complete mistake ("It can clone itself!" "Yes, thank you Sam, I hadn't noticed").

And currently, Crowley and Garth were both knocked out by some of the God's clones, and Jack was nowhere to be seen, leaving just Sam and Cas to fight with what they had (2 guns, an angel blade, and half a flask of holy water, so nothing)

Now there was only five minutes until midnight and the God had them surrounded, as it threw their useless guns and blades halfway across the forrest.

And only one thought rang through Sam's mind.

"Eileen is gonna kill me if the world ends before the wedding"

"Well if you hadn't touched th-"Cas started

"Thanks Cas, you really know how to make a guy feel better" Sam yelled back, swiflty cutting him off.

He glanced back up to see the God (who's name Sam had already forgotten) inching closer, holding them in place as they were readying themselves to smite them.

Sam took one last look at Cas and the reality of the situation finally set in. This was it.

All Sam wanted was one normal night, but now the world's ending again and he doesn't even know the name of the God ending it.

They were screwed. Now he'll never see Eileen again and they'll nev-

Suddenly a wooden stake was shoved through the back of the God's neck with a crunch, sending them crumbling to the ground. It burst into black flames, disappearing.

And standing above them in a, 6 inch heels, covered in glow stick bracelets, and a bride sash, was a very tipsy Eileen.

She and Dean helped pull them to their feet, and Sam could cry at the sight of her (and he did).

As soon as he was standing, Sam frantically began rambling and signing trying to explain and apologize all in one breath. But Eileen simply took hold of his hands, stopping him in his tracks.

"You were supposed to use sheep's blood, idiot" Eileen signed with a smirk.

Then she grabbed by the shoulders, yanking him down into a deep kiss.

"Wait how did-where did yo-"Sam started as he broke away. He quickly takes in his surroundings spotting Claire and Kaia helping Garth to his feet, Rowena trying to wake Crowley, and Charlie and Jo who are probably trying to convince Adam not to leave. He finds Dean, Cas and Jack off to the side huddled close together, while Dean probably tells his husband how much of a dumbass he is.

"Jack flew to the bar, and we read through your's and Cas' texts. We were able to piece it together from there, and apparently you guys can't read. Maybe leave the hunting to the pros?" Eileen teased, swaying slightly (okay maybe she was a little more than tipsy). Sam tightly wrapped his arms around her, keeping her steady, as a smile grew on his face.

"I don't deserve you" Sam sighs, cupping her cheek.

"Yeah, you don't" Eileen shrugged with a smirk growing on her lips.

"She's right, you really don't" Dean's voice cuts through as he, Cas and Jack make their way over. Cas punches him in the arm with a fond smile.

"Well, that certainly didn't go as I had planned" Cas huffed.

"Yeah, understatement of the year buddy. But when does it ever?" Sam laughs, feeling a bit of relief.

Then Sam has another brilliant idea, smiling as he turns back to Eileen.

"So my party....was ruined by an ancient God. Mind if we crash your's?"

And an hour later, Cas (much to Dean's delight) is now spinning around on the pole while Dean, Charlie and Jo cheers him on. Crowley, Rowena, Garth and Jack (with a shirley temple of course) are seated at the bar, talking about god knows what. Claire, Kaia, Kevin and surprisingly Adam have just returned from the parking lot, giggling a bit too much. And Sam is now seven shots in, messily making out with Eileen in one of the booths. Eventually they pull away, just sitting in a drunken daze as they stare at each other.

God he can't believe she's gonna marry him. He really is the luckiest man in the world.

And before Sam can relay this sentiment, Eileen downs her glass, signs "watch this", and runs to take a turn on the stripper pole to the thrumming bass.

With a laugh he surveys the bar, watching his family drink and laugh without a care in the world. He spots Eileen and Dean by the pole in the center of the room, heads thrown back in laughter, as Cas and Jack cheers them on. So Sam quickly slides out of the booth and makes his way over, plopping down inbetween Jack and Cas, watching his fiancé and brother dance to the beat like idiots. Heart swelling at the sight of his family.

And yeah maybe this isn't the night they had planned, but it was certainly a night they'd never forget.

(Especially since Cas had shirts made that said, "I survived Sam Winchester's bachelor party")

Tag list:

(Please let me know if you would like to be added or removed!!!💛)

@wormstacheangel @smiledean @shelikestv @chaoticdean @midnightwings-deancas @jellydeans @sunshine-jack @archervale @wikiangela @organicpurplepants @writtendevastation @tkdwolf2012 @doemons-blog

@rolling-stoned-girl @skylerkernaghan @shadowywerewolfqueen @the-cookie-navy @thelahatiel @thefantasyfiend @castielle-deanna @aestheticflyer26 @multi-fandom-imagine @x-mypeopleskillsarerusty-x @wellofwoes @becky-srs

@multi-fandom-dark-lord @perfectkoaladream @castiel-for-lunch @it--hurts--to--become @bowtiesandneckerchiefs @dakiaty @feraldean @teamfreebees @keshetcas @hrh-princess-bea @martymar1963 @midnight-sparks-studio @slipper007 @rainbowsam @winchester-novak

#this is just crack literally its crack i had this little idea and it ran away from me #literally its just crack theres not much substance and its not funny but here you go anyway!!!#i have never written saileen before and like ive said in the past dialogue is NOT my forte so im sorry in advance if this bad #ITS TIME FOR A FUCKING WEDDING #THEYRE SO CUTE AND THEYRE GETTING MARRIED #cas IS sam's best man you literally cannot convince me otherwise #dean would literally go ALL out for eileen's party like literally anything she wanted because THEY are best friends #i just needed a sam and cas chaotic adventure bachelor party so here #the world almost ended because they were idiots and they dont even care asfhjadjagsg #saileen wedding #certified safe sam content #eileen leahy #sammy #saileen #destiel #dean winchester #castiel #jack kline #saileen ficlet #bec writes #ficlet

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fullmetalscullyy · 3 years

Note

For the sharing a bed ask bc I can't remember for the life of me if I've sent one to you yet 🙈 'they took turns sharing it while the other was on watch' or however exactly that one was worded ❤️❤️

aaa tysm for the prompt! i loved it and i hope you enjoy! continuing with the no plot just vibes agenda~

send me a prompt

rated: g | words: 3679 | tags: royai, there was only one bed, shelter from the storm, snowstorm, tending to wounds, comfort, fluff

read on ao3

Exhaustion followed both occupants of the crumbling bothy like a shadow. It clung to them, slowing their movements, as if it was physically attached to their ankles like two weights. Booted feet were dragged across the polished, undulating stones underfoot, worn down after years of use, and finally came to stop in the centre of the main room.

Years of use didn’t warrant years of upkeep apparently, Riza thought, as she did a sweep of the building. It was not in the best condition however it was still standing, and it was shelter from the storm outside. That was all Riza was currently concerned with.

There were only two rooms, plus a bathroom with a functioning sink and toilet – surprisingly enough. The pipes grunted and groaned, screaming in protest at being used, but it worked and was clean. A worn plaque above the sink indicated the water was drinkable as well, which was the best news she’d heard all day. A small blessing in this wretched situation they’d found themselves in.

To counteract that thought, at that exact moment, a howling gust of wind rattled the door thoroughly and whistled through the cracked class of the windows to its left and right. The Colonel whipped around to stare, partly in fright and partly because he was on edge. They both were. The sudden scream that sounded as the wind tried to force its way inside through the glass made Riza jump as well.

They shared a look and the Colonel’s lips pressed into a thin line.

“So much for the famed northern hospitality,” he muttered. His words held a bite to them, however Riza was unsure whether it was directed at the situation itself or at anyone in particular.

It wasn’t anyone’s fault they’d found themselves in this situation, however it was not ideal, nor was it pleasant. The first point on their ‘bad things that have happened today’ list (at this point, they were up to around number six) was a snowstorm had rendered their transport from the station in North City to the town they were supposed to be visiting useless. The truck owner boasted it was an all-terrain, all-weather vehicle, that he was handpicked by the military for transport because of his “beauty’s” prowess. He quickly stopped bragging though and started muttering angrily at his prized possession, kicking the tyre in fury as it sat pitifully in a snowy ditch, unable to escape the confines of it. It was safe to say his “beauty” fell short of the mark for the two soldiers. No amount of pushing from the three of them would shift it. However, they had deadlines to meet, so were forced to say their goodbyes and go ahead on foot.

There was no way they’d make it in time but at least they could honestly say they had tried when questioned.

It was by a stroke of luck they’d stumbled upon a walker’s bothy. Night was creeping in quickly, especially with the ongoing snowstorm. The world was turning greyer by the second and when Riza spotted it, she made a beeline straight for the shelter. The wind was too loud to talk over, but the Colonel saw her beckoning gesture and nodded, following behind her without question, already trusting her judgement and thought process.

The main room housed a single wooden bedframe with no mattress. There was another spot where another bed frame should be, but only half it remained. It had been broken in half. Whether that had been from an accident, an act of vandalism, or due to the passage of time, Riza wasn’t sure. Not that it would be of any use to them split in half, but simple curiosity had the Colonel searching the rest of the small building for the other half. There was a large stone fireplace that was bereft of any wood, they noticed with dismay, however after venturing through to the second room on the left, there was a massive pile of it within. It was a supply for the winter months for anyone who needed it, so the piece of paper tacked to an old corkboard on the wall said. There were two chairs placed around the fire and some cast iron cooking utensils stacked in a neat pile upon the hearth, lifting their spirits slightly. They had rations from the truck driver that would not require their use, but the sight of them was still a positive.

“I think we’ll be safe enough to sleep here tonight,” she announced, ignoring the Colonel’s petulant comment.

“Lieutenant,” he called quietly to her, catching her attention. When she turned her head, he gestured to one of the chairs. “You should rest.” He glanced down at her feet, and Riza knew exactly what he was thinking.

She’d stumbled and twisted her ankle while they walked. The pain had eased completely the more she’d walked, so Riza assumed it would be fine. Now they’d stopped, it was throbbing in time with her pulse. It appeared to be worse than she’d thought.

Just what they needed.

She sighed and mentally added that as number seven to their list.

Sitting on one of the chairs, Riza sighed quietly in relief as it lessened the pressure on her injured joint. The Colonel followed suit and he too sounded extremely relieved to finally sit down.

“What a day,” he muttered, tilting his head back and closing his eyes.

Riza hummed in agreement, causing him to reopen his eyes and glance tiredly over at her. She shifted in place, feeling a shiver travel down her spine.

Without a word, the Colonel stood and ventured into the other room. He came back with arms full of firewood and started the process of arranging them within the fireplace. After a single snap the fire roared to life, filling the room with a soft orange glow and warmth. A few minutes later the invading bite of the winter chill was beginning to alleviate and Riza could feel her muscles relaxing.

“Do you think there will be anything outside waiting for us?”

His question was so sudden as he stared into the fire that it took Riza a moment to process it.

“Pardon?”

The Colonel blinked and tore his eyes away from the dancing flames. He repeated his question as he turned to look at her, expression serious.

“Like what?”

“What about bears?” He looked genuinely concerned.

Riza blinked at him. “Probably. I think so, yes.” She faintly recalled hearing stories about the size and might of the bears in the north but elected not to bring it up. She didn’t think that would have been beneficial or productive in that moment, especially not after recognising a faint glint of fear that was discernible in the Colonel’s eyes.

“Do you think we should be concerned?”

Riza glanced over her shoulder at the door as it rattled on its hinges. “I don’t think so. We’ll be safe in here.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Do you know any bears that can open doors?” Both her brows lifted as she regarded him.

“I know a bear could open that door,” he scoffed, jerking his head towards it. “It’s hardly a strong line of defence.”

That was true. One more gust of wind might snap it off one of the hinges. The top one rattled playfully to emphasise his point.

“I think we’ll be okay, sir,” Riza replied smoothly, trying to keep her amusement out of her tone.

The Colonel scowled at her anyway. Apparently she hadn’t been entirely successful.

Riza chuckled upon seeing his expression. “City boy,” she muttered to herself, her tone light and playful.

“I would say it was a legitimate concern,” he replied haughtily.

“You also thought there were bears in the woods outside my father’s house.”

“I think my point still stands.”

“Bears do not exist in every wooded area and forest, Roy.” She rolled her eyes at him in amused exasperation, momentarily forgetting herself.

It was so easy talking to him like this. The two of them were alone together and stuck in a predicament that neither could have ever predicted or conjured up, yet here they were. It was surreal, but it was nice. Despite everything that had happened today she was still relatively happy. She was grateful to be with him. Ideally, she’d have neither of them stranded in a snowstorm, however she was glad he was here. If there was anyone she’d want to be stranded with, it would be him.

After she’d realised her minor slip up, Riza paused and glanced over at him, noting his soft expression and smile. It was so genuine and happy that she didn’t cringe or apologise. She didn’t feel the need to.

“We sound like we did when we were children,” he replied.

Riza felt her own nostalgic smile spread across her face. “We do.”

“I’ll take first watch,” he offered.

Riza opened her mouth to protest but he’d already shoved a threadbare blanket he’d found towards her. Riza didn’t particularly want to use it – she had no way of knowing how clean it was – however the building was not heated in the slightest, aside from the fire. It was built for hikers who were well prepared with sleeping bags, which they were not. For survival, Riza had to accept any kind of warmth she could get.

“You need to rest that ankle,” he added.

She nodded and took the blanket from him. Riza settled herself on the hard, wooden bedframe so she was facing into the room. It was warmer than facing the cold stone of the wall beside the bed.

“Colonel?”

He glanced over at her expectantly.

“Watch out for those bears.”

* * * * * * * *

The wind had died down throughout the night at least. Roy had been partly joking when he brought up the bears that may be lurking outside for them, however now that he’d put the idea inside his own head, he couldn’t help but take an extra glance every now and then out the window.

Just in case.

It was worth bringing it up to hear the Lieutenant’s laugh. To hear her accidentally call him by his first name. It had been so worth it.

To whittle away the time his mind tried its best to summon a plan of attack against any bear that did appear, going over how he would react and how he would fend one off, but Roy had come to only one conclusion after about half an hour of plotting. It was folly. There was absolutely no way he’d be able to take on a bear. His eyes narrowed at the rickety old door and took solace in the fact the doorway looked too small for a bear to fit through. They were safe from them so long as they stayed inside, and that was good enough for him.

Now the bear appearance dilemma, likely or not, had been put to bed, Roy’s thoughts turned towards the Lieutenant. He glanced down at her ankle as she lay sound asleep, remembering how she’d stumbled and fallen in a snowdrift. Insisting she was fine, they’d pressed on. They didn’t have much choice in the matter anyway, but he was still concerned. He had a strong inkling she was suffering for it as they travelled. A sprained ankle under normal conditions would ease with rest, but that was not a luxury they’d been afforded as they traversed the snowy landscape to safety. Snowdrifts up to their knees were common and Roy had felt dead on his feet when they finally came to a stop inside this shelter.

That was one blessing of the day, at least. He’d simply laughed at their luck, shaking his head, now they were safe beneath shelter, dry, and out of the storm.

But if he’d felt tired down to his bones, then he couldn’t imagine how the Lieutenant must have felt upon their arrival.

Steadying his resolve, Roy determined there was no imminent danger. No bears coming through the night to get them. Now the storm had eased, looking through the shards of the window, Roy could see the gorgeous landscape splayed before him, illuminated by the moonlight, and enhanced by the heavy snow. It looked a lot more inviting than it had a few hours ago.

He wouldn’t, but he was tempted to wake up the Lieutenant to show her how beautiful it looked.

Roy smiled to himself, the thought dredging up an old memory from their past. He faintly recalled doing something similar when he’d experienced his first winter at the Hawkeye house. He’d ran to her room without a thought, excited and eager to show her how the dark forest outside had transformed into a silvery white and green wonderland.

It had been something he’d been desperate to share with her.

“Colonel?”

A tired voice called to him, and Roy immediately lost his interest in the world outside. He turned, seeing the Lieutenant blink tiredly at him.

“Lieutenant,” he greeted, an air of concern about him. He hadn’t expected her to wake so soon, and if she did, he knew she’d want to take over watch duties.

She shot him a small smile, placating his nerves somewhat. Pushing herself up into a seated position, the Lieutenant stretched her arms over her head.

“How’s the ankle?”

She grimaced, but only slightly. “Better now that I’ve taken my weight off it.”

That didn’t answer his question entirely. “Is there any pain?”

She was silent as she looked down at her legs. “It does throb every now and again. That’s what woke me up.”

Roy nodded, dismayed to hear she was in pain. If he could take it away, he would, but they didn’t have painkillers in their first aid kits. The only thing that would help was a support, which the Lieutenant had already put on after gently easing her boot off. She didn’t react to the angry red hue of her skin, but Roy felt his stomach tense. It hadn’t looked good. The compression support had been slipped on slowly, but Roy saw the way her eye twitched twice and how her jaw clenched while obviously trying to conceal any kind of pain.

“Why don’t you try and get a few hours sleep,” the Lieutenant offered. “I think I’ll be up for a while now.” She swung her legs around and to the floor, visibly wincing when her sore ankle contacted the floor. Another appeared when she tried to stand, but Roy quickly scrambled towards her.

“Please, stay seated,” he insisted. “You shouldn’t be walking on that ankle.”

The Lieutenant shot him a strained smile. “That doesn’t bode well for us for tomorrow,” she quipped.

Roy opened his mouth to reply, but she was right. Still, hewas right. She shouldn’t be walking on that ankle.

“Regardless,” he admonished, placing his hands on her shoulders as a gentle restraint to keep her in place. “All the more reason to remain seated and keep resting it then, right?” Triumph flashed through him, and he smirked when the Lieutenant’s lips pursed, because she knew he was right.

“You can’t sleep on the floor, though,” she warned.

His shoulders fell in defeat, glancing down at the bed. His mind rejoiced with the idea that sprung into it, however it was so far out the realm of what was appropriate that it was completely out of the question.

Roy retracted his hands as the Lieutenant placed both hands by her sides and effortlessly slid herself backwards, so her back came to rest upon the stone wall behind her. She made herself comfortable and looked at him expectantly, patting the space beside her to indicate he should join her and sit.

Even if it wasn’t appropriate to share a bed with his Lieutenant, Roy only needed to take one look around them both and remember where they were. This day was already bizarre enough. What was one more occurrence to add to that list?

He wouldn’t particularly class it as sharing a bed with her either. They would both be sitting upright, looking out at the room, with considerable distance in place between them.

“We can take turns with the blanket,” she smirked as she handed it over.

Roy snorted lightly and gratefully received her offering. The room was warm enough with the fire but the stone behind his back still stubbornly clung to the icy temperatures from outside, refusing to accept the warmth they’d provided the room. Wrapping it around his shoulders, Roy settled back in place and made himself comfortable.

He woke with a start a few hours later. His head jerked upright and swung left and right, unseeing as he still tried to shake the vision from his dreams.

“Colonel? Colonel!”

He paused for a second, recognising the voice. It was from someone he thought he’d lost in his dream.

“Roy,” the Lieutenant called to him.

It was enough to surprise him, that it brought him back to the present. Glancing to his right, he saw his Lieutenant still seated next to him, eyes wide and concerned.

“Are you okay?” Her eyes were searching his, moving back and forth frantically as she scanned his face with worry.

“Yes,” he breathed, trying to get a hold of his racing heart to slow it down. He was all right. She was all right. They were safe. He gulped down air, trying to get enough into his lungs and take away the fear that had both restricted them and wrapped tightly around his heart. “Just… A bad dream.”

The Lieutenant nodded in understanding and patted his forearm. That was when Roy realised she didn’t remove it, and that it had been there the entire time.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Roy shook his head. “It’s okay,” he breathed. “Thank you, though,” he quickly added. “It was just… the usual,” he offered. The usual nowadays was him losing someone dear to him. The Promised Day had not been kind on his mind. To this day he still suffered, and he didn’t particularly want to relive it after it was so fresh. His reply was code enough that the Lieutenant knew exactly what he was referring to. They’d already been open about what their ‘usual’ nightmares consisted of nowadays.

As suspected, realisation dawned upon her features, and she nodded in sympathy.

“I… I need some time before I can sleep again,” he admitted. There was no shame in his voice though, not with her. Never with her. They were both very well acquainted with the reasons the other struggled to sleep. “You should try for a while.”

“Okay,” she acquiesced. She gave his forearm a squeeze and again, she didn’t remove it. “Wake me if you need anything, all right?” She waited for him to verbally agree with her. Only once he did, did the Lieutenant’s eyes close.

Watching her do so caused Roy’s brow to furrow slightly in confusion.

She must have moved closer to him as he slept, because where there had been about two feet of distance between them before, there was now mere centimetres. Just enough distance for the Lieutenant’s head to loll and fall against his shoulder comfortably as she slept.

He’d been startled awake, so Roy hadn’t realised he’d initiated it. In sleep, his head had bowed and rolled to the side, seeking out her presence. After shifting closer, the Lieutenant had eased him from his uncomfortable position and lifted his head to lie upon her shoulder.

Now recovered from the turmoil of his dream, Roy smiled down at her and relished in the comfort her presence brought him. The weight of her head against him eased his mind and slowed his racing pulse. He could breathe easier with her lying against him. A peace washed over his body, relaxing his taught muscles, and soothing his very soul.

Despite their predicament, he was glad she was here with him.

The grip she had on his forearm loosened, so Roy snaked his hand over to it, hooking their fingers together and holding on tightly. The Lieutenant stirred next to him, disturbed from sleep.

“Sorry,” he whispered, “it’s okay. It’s just me.” He gave her hand a quick squeeze.

There was a brief pause with no reply, then the Lieutenant’s grip on him tightened and remained.

“Okay,” she exhaled peacefully. She moved next to him, shuffling closer, which Roy was more than happy to indulge in.

As she was lulled back to sleep, her grip on his hand slackened but Roy never let her go. He anchored himself to her.

They’d get through this and get home. Not that she’d allow it of course, but Roy would carry her through the snow with that ankle if need be to ensure their safety. It had been the day from hell professionally, however ending it with the two of them curled together on that uncomfortable bed, gripping onto one another, was not bad in the slightest. Roy thought that was the closest to heaven he was ever going to get.

* * * * * * * *

Their luck must have finally been turning for the better, as that morning a group of hikers entered the bothy loudly, laughing and joking with one another, while Roy helped the Lieutenant strap up her ankle. They were offered food and directions to the nearest town, which was only two miles away. The group set off with them, insistent on offering their help and support, and even assisted the Lieutenant with some painkillers as well.

After the day of travel they’d had before, it brightened up both soldier’s moods somewhat as they set off again through the snowy northern landscape with their new company.

Thankfully, they didn’t come across any bears.

They made it to the town in one peace and called North City Headquarters for assistance. And also requested back up for that assistance.

Just in case.

#royai #royai fic #royai fanfic #royai oneshot #emma writes #oh hey the manifesting worked lol #no plot just viiiiiibes baybeeeee #this was more taxing that it should have been asdfsg but it felt good to write again 😌#ask #roseofbattles #fic request #miles adrift inches away #there was only one bed

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pleathewrites · 3 years

Text

boys, boys, boys

chapter 2: revelations

Summary: Does Iwaizumi have a thing for setters or do setters have a thing for Iwaizumi?

“Maybe Iwa-kun does have a thing for grey hair,” Sugawara muses, the tip of his index finger circling the rim of his drink. He’s got that signature sly smirk across the very lips that locked with Hajime's a decade ago.

“Oh my God.”

Hajime is seriously considering begging Oikawa to jump-serve a volleyball to his head and knock him clean out just so they can all stop having this conversation - ‘Hell, Tooru’s strong as hell now. Might knock the entire memory of this night right out of my brain, for good.’

“Hey, I just made out with him - and possibly gave him his gay awakening. But I wasn’t the one who convinced him to change his career.”

“Oh my God.”

“Wait, what are you - ”

“Daichi, baby, seriously, you need to go see that doctor. I am actively concerned about you developing early-onset Alzheimer's," Sugawara says, tucking a strand of Sawamura's hair behind his ear, his impish smirk melting into a fond smile, "Does Shiratorizawa ring any bells?”

“Hey, I have my own life to worry about! I’m not gonna keep track of someone else’s love life - no offense, Iwaizumi-san.”

“Hey, non-taken. Please, never think about my love life.”

Much to Hajime’s horror, Daichi’s expression turns contemplative, “Wait, actually, though -”

“Fuck -”

“… Grey hair, Shiratorizawa...” Daichi snaps his fingers and points his index at Iwaizumi with a much-too-proud smile on his face, completely unaware of the man’s rising irritation. “Yes, right! Iwaizumi, didn’t you..?”

“Ugh, God, that one,” injects Oikawa.

Hajime feels the vein on his forehead throb at Oikawa’s tone, “Kawa... why are you so shitty.”

“Well, sorry, if I don’t like the edge-lord that busted my entire future!”

“Oikawa… You are literally at the Olympics… for the second time...”

“Yeah, with you on the opposing side,” Oikawa says with a closed throat, sliding out of the booth, and heading off to the direction of the entrance doors.

Hajime sighs.

Their loss to Shiratorizawa is soul-crushing - it always is.

‘Always’ - that’s the most crushing thing, Hajime despairs, ‘We always lose to that school.’ And Hajime feels the blow, of course, he's devastated, but it’s not personal, hell, it’s not even for his team - ‘God, I’m such a shitty Vice-Captain.’

No, the absolute heartbreak he feels is for Tooru.

Hajime loves his team, he believes every single member has outrageous talent, but he knows that all their abilities combined, including his own, wouldn’t even hold a candle to Oikawa’s blinding torch.

Shiratorizawa is a school for rising champions, Abo Johsai is a school for kids with talent.

Oikawa Tooru is on a completely different level, it's a fact - he outranks his own team. It keeps Hajime up at night because he knows that if Oikawa had a team that matched his talent and ability, he would never have to experience such consistent defeat.

In times like these, Hajime feels shameful and useless, ‘How long will I hold Oikawa back?’

Hajime knows Oikawa. He knows he’s the real reason Oikawa chose Abo Josai, that because Hajime wasn’t good enough to get into Shiratorizawa, Oikawa shackled himself to a team that weighs more than he can carry. It reminds Hajime of those free-body-diagrams from physics class that Oikawa had to explain to him ten times over; Oikawa is the upward force, striving for victory at the speed of light, Hajime is the opposing frictional force, and Abo Johsai is plain gravity times mass times sine (or was it cosine?). Hajime only managed to scrape a B- in that class, so the only answer he can give this problem is that Oikawa isn't going anywhere, any time soon.

A harsh slap to his back snaps Hajime out of his thoughts. He jumps with the force of it and doesn’t even have to turn his head to know who’s hand is laying firmly between his shoulder blades. He keeps his eyes downcast, but Oikawa - a true Captain - doesn’t force Hajime to look at him when he firmly whispers, “Next time, Iwa-chan. We’ll get ‘em.”

Their coach takes the team for ramen, gives them a speech about being proud and working hard, all while Oikawa is making faces at Hajime from across the table and, slowly, Hajime begins to let himself smile.

Halfway through dinner, Hajime feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. Thinking it’s his mother asking when he’ll be home, Hajime turns on the lockscreen and sees it’s an Instagram notification. He unlocks his phone and swipes down his Notifications - Hajime had to reset his phone notifications to conceal messages ever since becoming friends with Sugawara Koushi because the boy has zero filter and he doesn’t need his mom accidentally seeing messages with eggplant and squirting emojis, encouraging Hajime to make ‘his move’, whatever that means.

EITA (@notsemisemi) has requested to follow you.

Now, Hajime is confused. He doesn’t even remember the last time he posted a picture on Instagram - he only really made the account because Oikawa started crying about, “Iwa-chan, I want to tag you in this picture, people should know that you’re capable of smiling! Everyone else has an Instagram, let me make you one, you won’t even have to do anything!” - so he’s not really sure how or why a random person requested to follow him.

'Maybe it's a spam account?'

He looks closely at the username and tries to think if he knows anyone with that name. When nothing comes to mind, he clicks on the person’s account and is met with very aesthetically angsty selfies of a grey-haired boy with sharp eyebrows and deep collarbones. ‘

He’s kind of…’ Hajime tries to think of the right words. He wants to say ‘pretty’, but that doesn’t feel right - Sugawara is pretty, Oikawa is pretty. Pretty people are soft and round and peppy. This guy is…

‘Hot.’

And weirdly familiar.

He elbows Matsukawa, who’s sitting on his right, and turns his phone screen towards the boy, “Do you know this guy?”

“Hmph?” Matsukawa’s lazy eyes roam over his screen and he swallows his food before speaking, “Yeah, isn’t that the reserve setter? He came in as a sub when Oikawa hit Shiratorizawa’s main setter.”

Like a self-conscious self-absorbed bat, whenever Oikawa’s name is merely uttered, the boy in question will hear it, no matter what he's doing, “Eh? Oikawa hit who? I swear, it couldn't have been me, I’m a pacifist!” And he proceeds to put his hands up in surrender.

The lightbulb goes off in Hajime's head, “Oh! When Oikawa jump-served the ball at that small guy’s face? With the uneven bangs?” He makes a downward sloping motion across his forehead.

“Yeah, that one,” Matsukawa points to the phone screen, “Pretty sure that’s the guy who subbed for the rest of the set.”

“Yeah…” Hajime trails, before adding softly, “He was good… Wonder why their coach didn't give him more playtime.”

Oikawa’s quick-clapping hands bring Hajime out of his thoughts, “Oh! I know what we’re talking about now! First off, I didn’t hit Shorty, he wasn’t fast enough, that’s the consequence of the game! Also, why are we talking about this?”

“Iwaizumi is on the sub’s Instagram page.”

Oikawa squeaks, “Is this about your grey-hair-slash-old-man fetish?!”

Hajime groans and facepalms, “No, oh my God, stop telling people I have a fetish, Shittykawa! He followed me.”

“Block him!”

Hajime sighs, locks his phone, and puts it away, “Just forget it.”

“Hmph. That guy’s not even first string. What does he want with our ace?”

Hanamaki joins in, “I wonder why he’s not first string, though. I’m pretty sure he’s a third year, he’s been there every time we played against them. 'M pretty sure that Shorty is definitely a second year.”

Oikawa’s face turns from snooty to serious and he crosses his arms, “He’s good, but he lacks instinct. His technique is fine, but he doesn’t have what Shorty does. Maybe if he worked harder, but from the looks of it tonight, he doesn’t want it bad enough. He’s not on Shiratorizawa’s level - maybe he was once, but not anymore.”

'Not on Shiratorizawa’s level… Sounds like we might have something in common, after all.’

That night, before Hajime goes to sleep, he accepts EITA’s follow request and follows him back.

continue to read chapter

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fandomcelery · 3 years

Text

Feelings are complicated, aren't they?

Pairing: Santana Lopez/Brittany S. Pierce

Word Count: 2107

Rating: Teens and Up

Tags: Sexuality Crisis, Internalized Homophobia, Pining

Beta: @useless-fanfictions helped me out a lot on this fic, especially since I'm just starting out writing, so a big thanks to them!

Summary: Walking next to Brittany felt normal and right, but at that moment it felt slightly wrong. A bunch of questions were running through her mind. Was she acting differently? Was it obvious that something was off? Oh god, does everyone think that she’s gay?

Or, the one where Santana realizes she might have feelings for Brittany and panics over it.

Read it on Ao3

For the Glee Character "This-or-That" Challenge: @gleethisorthatchallenge

Prompt: Sharing a bed or Sexuality Crisis

The way Santana feels around Brittany is normal, right? Sure, she’s never felt it for any other person—not even any of her previous boyfriends—but it’s a completely normal feeling. And yeah, okay, she also defends Brittany all the time when people insult or make fun of her, and when Brittany sticks up for her and is always by her side, she can never stop smiling. She always feels warm whenever she compliments her about literally anything that she’s wearing, or how her hair looks that day, or really anything that makes Santana feel pretty.

There’s also the fact that they have sex regularly even though they’re in relationships with guys who would willingly have sex with them as well, but that’s different. It must be different, because if it’s not—

No, it’s not an option for it to not be anything but platonic. It’s got to be, it just has to be.

Even though Santana hates when people flirt with Brittany and will usually try to scare them off when others aren’t looking. Or when they get into fights or arguments, big or small, she feels like shit when she can’t talk to Brittany, and then that means they can’t have their sweet lady kisses that make Santana feel like they are the only two people left on the entire planet.

Feelings are complicated, aren’t they?

As long as she always stands her ground, keeping their relationship just friends, and convincing Brittany—and a little bit of herself—that even though they’re in relationships they can have sex and it’s not cheating because they’re both girls, she will be fine. She just has to keep telling herself that their relationship isn’t anything, that they’re strictly friends and that she doesn’t have feelings for her best friend, because if she did then she wouldn’t know what she would do with herself.

She’s not homophobic, and just because Kurt freaking Hummel struts around with his gay flag waving in the air doesn’t mean that everyone can or has to. And even if they do, they’ll get bullied and harassed, just like him. It’s the way that everything goes, the straight popular kids are on top, and the gays are at the bottom, even though that’s ridiculous, it’s the way it goes.

She’ll just keep it to herself—even though there’s nothing there, obviously—and everything will be fine. She hopes that if she keeps telling herself that then maybe it will be.

***

Of course, that’s not what happens. The following Monday, after the weekend Santana had realized that something is different, it seemed like everyone has been staring at the two of them differently, but it might just be her paranoia talking.

Walking next to Brittany felt normal and right, but at that moment it felt slightly wrong. A bunch of questions were running through her mind. Was she acting differently? Was it obvious that something was off? Oh god, does everyone think that she’s gay? She is suddenly on the defensive side, glaring at the people who she thought were looking at her and Brittany weirdly. Maybe people always looked at them this way and neither of them ever noticed or cared; except now she did.

She knows the route they take to get to their next classes by heart because they always walk together, even though their schedules don’t really line up. Most people think that all the Cheerios just walk to class together in groups because the outfits look good together—which they do, she thinks conceitedly—and because of the cheerleading cliques. For a while that’s why Quinn, Brittany, and Santana would walk together, but then they actually got kind of close because of Glee Club, and now Quinn walks with Finn to her classes and Santana walks with Brittany.

During her fourth period that she has alone she can’t stop thinking about Brittany. How when she walks to class she hugs her binder to her chest, or how during class she always fidgets with her pencil when she’s in between writing, or how even if she doesn’t care about what people are talking about, she’ll listen to them anyway (like this one time a few days ago when they had arrived early to glee club and Rachel had come up to Brittany and her to ask for dance lessons, going on and on about something that had to do with her being a star and needing to know how to dance better, and Santana had only been paying attention to Brittany and ignored Rachel’s harping), Santana admires the way Brittany exists, and how it seems like nothing really bothers her. She doesn’t know why all of the sudden it’s hitting her, especially since she’s been friends with her for so long, and no, she doesn’t have feelings for her, they’re just friends.

***

They walk to their usual seats during lunch together, every now and again bumping shoulders with how close they are while they’re talking. Santana sits down across from Brittany, as she doesn’t miss a beat from what she’s saying to sit down.

“And I swear that Lord Tubbington has a gambling addiction, but he won’t stop—” she takes a bite of her food, “—and I don’t know what to do.”

“Why don’t you just take away his laptop privileges?” Santana suggests, also taking a bite of her own food. It’s not bad, however, it’s not good. Then again, it’s the school’s food. When she looks up at Brittany, she looks quizzical, like she hasn’t thought of doing that.

“That probably would work,” Brittany responds, and continues eating.

Santana’s focused on something else. That something else is Brittany’s physical appearance, everything about her: to her flashing smile, to her thin and perfect eyebrows. her slim waist, long legs, and her torso—which she shouldn’t be staring at in the middle of school, and yet she is. She is stunning to Santana, with her lean appearance and bright golden colored hair pulled perfectly back into a ponytail. Her blue eyes seem to twinkle all the time.

“Santana?” Brittany asks after she’s been staring for a moment or two.

“Huh, what? Sorry, I was just, thinking,” she responds quickly and looks away to other tables where other kids are sitting, she lets go of her lip that she must have been biting on.

“About what?” Brittany takes another bite of her food, almost finished, whereas Santana has barely touched hers.

“Nothing important,” she mumbles, taking a drink from her water bottle. The answer seems to satisfy Brittany and they go back to normal and easy conversation like Santana hadn’t been just staring at her best friend’s boobs.

***

Glee Club isn’t that different. Rachel and Mercedes are fighting for a solo that Mr. Schue handed out, he doesn’t know how to handle it, and so they’re trying to argue over one another. Finn, Puck, Matt, and Mike are making bets about something in football. Kurt, Tina, and Artie are talking about something—she can’t hear their conversation, and honestly doesn’t care—and so it’s Quinn, Brittany and her talking about the Cheerios like they always are.

“Sue’s been on our asses about winning at Nationals,” Quinn comments as she sits down next to Brittany.

“She’s just concerned about staying on top,” Santana remarks, looking around the choir room. She looks up at the two who are arguing over one another and laughs a little bit. Everyone knows that Rachel’s going to get the solo, she usually does. Mercedes probably knows that, too, and yet she’s still going to fight for it.

“And her paycheck,” Quinn adds.

Eventually Mr. Schue stood in front of the class, apparently they had sorted it out where Rachel got this solo and Mercedes would get the next one.

This Glee practice they were going to focus on their choreography added with singing, and it wasn’t that big of an issue for the three cheerleaders (and it was mostly for the jocks to practice anyway, since they were the ones having problems, other than Mike, surprisingly).

Afterwards everyone was tired and sore, they had to start over a bunch of times because someone kept messing up (Finn). Slowly the choir room emptied, and Brittany and Santana walked to their next class together. They were going to walk with Quinn, but she had muttered something about a “troll trying to steal her boyfriend” and went off to walk with Finn. They separated at their different classrooms, and the three of them were going to meet up for Cheerios practice that was after school, which was their usual plan.

***

After practice Santana was even more exhausted than when she left Glee rehearsal. She grabs her water bottle that she had placed in her locker when she first got there. She gulps down a quarter of the bottle before putting it back.

There are many girls around her, yet the only one she’s focused on is Brittany.

Ever since they walked into the locker room, Brittany, and another cheerleader—Hailey was her name—were talking nonstop to one another. It’s not like Santana was eavesdropping, but it’s not her fault they were standing so close and speaking so God damn loudly.

“One time she made a girl cry just because she talked back,” Hailey continues while she brushes her hair in the mirror.

“I know, I was there,” Brittany responds, leaning up against the lockers next to Hailey’s that no one’s using. “Sue can be a bitch sometimes.”

Hailey wraps her hair in a ponytail and starts to put the hair tie around it. “Don’t let her hear you say that she might move you down the pyramid,” she jokes, which gets a laugh out of Brittany. “However, she is the best cheerleading coach McKinley can offer, so I guess we’ll have to put up with it,” Hailey states.

They all know that that’s true, no other teacher will coach the Cheerios, and she’s the only one that’s gotten them to Nationals and gets a pretty big paycheck put towards the cheerleading team.

And listen, Santana doesn’t do jealous, okay? And she’s not. She just doesn’t like Brittany hanging out with another person so closely. And it’s because no one understands her like Santana does is all. And sure, Brittany has other friends, but usually they go through Santana to talk to her, so she knows them, or they’re all in the conversation. This is an entire new person, and they’re jokingtogether, which Brittany can do on her own, of course, but-

“Stop pining and either go talk with them or leave already,” Quinn mutters behind her.

Santana whips around and glares at her, and Quinn smirks.

“Oh, come on, don’t think I didn’t notice.” She walks past Santana to get to her locker, and Santana decides to do what Quinn suggested.

She grabs her water bottle from her locker and makes sure all of her things are put away before she leaves to head home.

***

She can’t be in love with her best friend, right? Sure, she and Brittany are close, and they do practically everything together, and Santana loves everything about Brittany, but that doesn’t mean she’s in love with Brittany.

Those thoughts are how Santana finds herself pacing in her room, not for the first time in the last few days, lost in thought. She looks over at the photos that she has on her walls of all of the Cheerios, but there are a few of either her, Brittany, and Quinn, or just the two of them.

She walks over and picks one up to look at it. She gets the same feeling that she’s been getting every time she thinks about Brittany, yet she’s been ignoring it for a while now. Except this time, she doesn’t. She feels butterflies in her stomach and doesn’t even realize she is smiling at Brittany’s picture. She sets down the photo when she does catch herself, and goes to lay down on her bed.

Even if she was gay, how would she know? Would having feelings that aren’t actually feelings enough to be considered gay? And what would everyone else think? Maybe she should turn to the internet, she thinks. She sits up and grabs her laptop that she keeps on her bedside table and loads it up.

A few searches later she realizes that maybe terms like bisexual or even lesbian fit her. Some more questions pop up in her head after that realization, but at least one thing’s certain.

Santana is in love with her best friend, and she has no idea what she’s going to do about it.

#gleecharactertot2021 #gleetotchallenge2021 #glee #santana lopez #brittany pierce #brittana #sexuality crisis #elliry writes #uefnajnfvedhbfhrsyuhebgveahj

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a-edgar-allan-hoe · 3 years

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The Red Witch

Jasper Hale x Reader Part 5

A/N: Part 5 is here my lovelies! Bon apetit! Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list. 💕

Summary: Imagine being an immortal witch from the Middle Ages and being the previous love of Jasper before he was turned. You two were separated under certain circumstances and cross each other’s path once again, years later in the present era.

Warnings: Language

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4

It was the year 1862. You were sitting in the private carriage of the train that early morning, on the route to Houston. This was your first time in America and you couldn’t help the excitement in you as stared out the window at the vast lands before you. Unbeknownst to Charlotte and some others, you were a countess at the time, in courtesy of your father, Count Balthazar, who was long dead. But you tried to keep your family history as confidential as possible, considering your father was a sorcerer and your mother a witch. When you grew into a young woman, you left your family castle and went your own way, leaving behind everything that reminded you of your cruel father and donated all his wealth to charity. As for your mother, she was a beautiful sea witch. After the death of your father, she was able to gain her freedom and now lives happily in a humble cottage on the coast of Scotland, close to her beloved sea, and married to the local clocksmith who loves her more than your father ever could.

The reason you were traveling to Houston was because you were recently invited out here to preform at the local theatre for charity, to which which all the funds would go towards the families affected by the war. You were a known opera singer at the time and people fell in love with your clear and soft voice that held all the emotion and sadness behind it which was beautiful to their ears. You were also quite an exceptional pianist. It originally started out as a hobby, something you decided to test the waters with, but you didn’t know it would grow into something serious, eventually venturing you out into having a strong passion for the arts like singing, acting, and even painting. When your father was around, you were never able to pursue such things. He believed they were nonsense, a complete and utter waste of time. While these activities were useless to him, they were your whole heart and soul for you. You breathed for the arts. You guess you had your mother to thank for that, she used to sing you a lullaby every night when you were a child to calm your nerves because of the visions you would have. Thankfully, those visions ceased to happen as you got older.

The gentle rocking and sound of the train had lulled you to sleep as you currently had your head leaned against the window and your feet thrown up on the seat of the train. Your hair was tied up in a bun with a peridot green ribbon while a few loose pesky strands fell about your face. A leather bound Wuthering Heights book was tucked neatly in your hands on your lap. You were wearing a simple grey long sleeved gingham linen dress with delicate black lace trim at the sleeves and your collar. A peridot green velvet ribbon was tied around your waist, your neckline sat at the bottom of your neck and covered your collarbone, and a few black buttons ran down the front of your bodice.

Your dear friend at the time was sitting across from you with her fiancé. Her name was Charlotte Griffiths, the daughter of a governor. And though she was mortal, you absolutely adored her, for she took you in when you nearly did not have a home and cared for you as if you were her own sister. Then again, you always adored mortals. This was before you had known Melanie whom you had only met in the 60s. Charlotte’s fiancé was Lord Ernest Thompson, the owner of a estate and a businessman. He was a kind, charitable, and respectable young man, and you thought he was the perfect match for Charlotte. They both were kind and gentle souls.

“Isn’t this exciting (Y/N)?” Charlotte squealed, waking you from your nap.

“Hm?” You opened your sleepy eyes to look at a blur of what most likely was your friend. “Oh of course.” You yawned, giving yourself a minute to adjust your eyes and mind to reality. “Technically you’re the one who begged me to accept the invitation for performing here and practically dragged me along.” You smirked.

“Oh admit it. I saw your face light up when you received that invitation. Anyways, isn’t this a wonderful little adventure for us? You’ve told me how much you liked to travel.”

“Well I wouldn’t quite call a civil war a wonderful little adventure.” You snarked lightheartedly, letting out a scoff before starting to dwell upon what sort of mess you’ve just gotten into.

“My god woman.” Ernest chuckled playfully, lifting his eyes from the newspaper he was reading, his glasses sitting at the bridge of his nose as he glanced at Charlotte. “Can’t you see (Y/N) was asleep?”

“Well I....I’m merely excited my love.”

“Merely?” He raised a brow.

“Oh you’re being harsh on her Ernest.” You joked along, smiling to yourself as the lovers started to lightly quarrel.

You stared out the window again, watching the scenery blur past. You have seen many lands in your time, how they have changed over the course of years, how some have come and vanished to dust. You have seen kings rise and fall. But you haven’t been here, to America. This was all foreign to you.

The train finally came to a stop at the train station and you quickly grabbed your things, desperate to get out and stretch your legs. You hastily threw on your matching bonnet, not caring that it sat crooked on your head. You rushed towards the door and hitched up your skirt, struggling with the petticoat and making sure not to go past the ankles of your boots and expose your stockings or else Charlotte would have a heart attack. You grabbed the handle and stepped down from the train and onto the wooden platform as Charlotte and Ernest followed suit.

Right when you stepped out you could feel the hot and thick damp air surround you, and you couldn’t help but bring out your fan and fan yourself vicariously.

“My goodness it’s muggy. It’s like the devil’s bollocks out here.” You breathed out.

“(Y/N)!” Charlotte exclaimed, smacking you gently with her fan. “Mind your manners!”

“Sorry.”

“You forgot your parasol by the way.”

“Oh. Right.” You took your parasol from her hands and opened it up, putting your fan away. “Wouldn’t want to forget my complexion guardian.”

You were so used to London weather, now you had to get used to this, and your corset was not helping either.

“Would you look at that Charlotte. The sun.” You made a point to her, only making her shake her head.

Once you were all settled and had your things you all headed to the nearest bed and breakfast and checked into your rooms. You and Charlotte shared one while Ernest had his own. You had just set your belongings inside before Charlotte decided now would be a good time to go to the local tea house, despite your slight dismay as you would much rather be taking a nap. You were sitting out on the tables in front of the local tea house, your head propped up by your hand and a cup of tea in your other, while chatting with Charlotte as you watched the local people pass by.

“My goodness. This heat, it’s nearly disgusting.” Charlotte fanned herself as she wiped her forehead.

“I’m sweating in places I didn’t know I had. I might as well be stripping myself bare to the bone.” You added, fanning yourself with your hand.

“I told you to wear a crinoline.”

“What? Those ghastly looking cages for your legs? Never.”

You stared off into the distance in a sort of dazed state, thinking about your comfortable bed back home, and your collection of books you left behind. You were also starting to miss your mother, wishing you were in Scotland watching the waves with her, before noticing that Charlotte had gone awfully quiet.

“What’s gotten into you?” You asked her, seeing her stare at something behind you. “Charlotte?”

“My my, I think you have an admirer.” She giggled, her youthful face lit up with giddiness as she tried to contain her laughter.

“What on earth are you babbling about?” You turned to follow her gaze and saw a tall stranger wearing a military uniform staring in your direction. You straightened up in your chair, your face firm as you started to feel yourself get anxious. You were silently hoping he wouldn’t come over to your table to strike up a conversation.

“Oh! He’s a rather fine looking gentleman I must say. Annnd he’s an officer.” Charlotte was now leaning in to whisper noticeably in your ear. You can practically hear her next you, trying so hard to contain her giggles.

“You’ve gone daft Charlotte. He’s obviously fancying you. You’re the pretty one.” You turned back around, completely disinterested.

“I think not! You know I’m engaged!”

“And how would he know that detail? Hm? A man who sees a pretty woman without any knowledge as to who she is, is most likely to approach her, without any assumption as to whether she is engaged or not. To which he’ll find out sooner or later I must add.” You ran on before taking a sip of your tea.

“Oh come now (Y/N). You know I wouldn’t.”

“I don’t know, you seem to be a little too excited upon seeing other men. I don’t hear you speak of Ernest as such, as I might recall, a rather fine looking gentleman.”

“You know I love my dear Ernest more than anything. I’m just trying to find you a suitor.”

“I honestly wish you wouldn’t.” You sighed inaudibly. “What I’m trying to say is, that gentleman over there does not know that. So just.....oh bloody hell. I don’t know. Just be prepared to decline his advances towards you.”

“You lack faith my dear.” She gave you a pitiful look before looking behind you once more. “Oh look! He’s coming this way!”

“He’s what?! Charlotte!” You hiss as you lightly slap your hands down on the table as to not draw attention. “Don’t just invite him over.”

“Ladies.” You heard the man now standing beside you as he took off his hat and lowered his head in a polite greeting.

You had gotten so nervous in the mere matter of a minute that you couldn’t stop yourself from letting out the next word that slipped your tongue. “Fuck.”

There was a brief silence as Charlotte and the stranger stared at you in utter disbelief at what a proper lady like you had just uttered. A few others who sat at the other tables near you in earshot stared at you in displeasure before looking away.

Oh just wonderful. You wanted the world to eat you alive right there so you could escape their peers.

You locked eyes with the officer for a brief moment before turning away and fixing your gaze on something else, doing your best to seem preoccupied. You wished you brought your book with you so you could bury your face in it.

Charlotte let out an uneasy laugh befor turning to the man. “Well hello officer! I’m Charlotte Griffiths.” You caught your friend extending her gloved hand out to him, to which he kissed lightly.

“Pleasure to meet you.” You heard him say in this thick southern accent you were definitely not accustomed to.

“This young lady here is my dear friend (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“Charlotte. Stop this instance.” You leaned closer to her only for her to hear.

You were starting to feel embarrassed more than anything.

“Ma’am.” He now turned to you, to which you gave a short reply without making any eye contact.

“Good day.”

“You know (Y/N) here has come to preform for the opera tomorrow night. You should come!”

Charlotte you did not just.

You sat there with your arms folded and glared at her. She loved getting you into these predicaments, innocently enough. If only she knew how much it bothered you.

“Really?” He turned to you now, smiling. “I thought I heard that name somewhere.”

“Oh, well she’s only one of the best sopranos in England.”

“Ehem. Charlotte that’s quite enough. Thank you.”

You almost felt ridiculed at the moment as you felt the stares of everyone around you weighing in on you. And then that sensation started to creep on you. The same one you felt when you were a child. You glanced around, seeing and hearing the blood flowing through everyone’s veins and their hearts beating in their chests, glowing like a red ruby. You squeezed your eyes shut and pinched the bridge of your nose, silently muttering to yourself and remembering the meditation your mother taught you. Earth, fire, water, air, and spirit. You glanced up from underneath your bonnet as the sensation died down and you could finally hear Charlotte calling out your name.

“(Y/N). Are you alright?” Charlotte was reaching out a hand to clasp your gloved one, gently shaking them.

“I’m fine.” You breathed out while rubbing your temple. “It’s just a migraine.”

“Do you need anything for it?” Charlotte questioned you.

“No. God no. I don’t need any of that poison.” You got up from your seat and dusted yourself off before grabbing your parasol. “I’m going to head back to the inn if you don’t mind Charlotte.”

“Do you want me to walk you back?” The officer asked you, his voice laced with concern as he took a step towards you.

You took a step back away from him in response, still avoiding his eyes. “No. I’m quite alright. I’m pretty sure I can walk back to the inn without any assistance thank you.”

“Good day.” You nodded your head at him before turning away and heading back to the inn.

The officer was the most surprised at this situation if anything. He never received this sort of reaction before. Growing up, he always appeared to have a way with words and an influence over people, they always seemed to like him. His father called it charisma. And yet here you were, this woman he had barely just met, and you didn’t have the slightest sway from him. He was a bit perplexed at this, since he was now the one that was drawn to you.

You on the other hand, you found him to be rather bold. This had happened plenty of times before. Charlotte would bring over someone to introduce to you and it always ended up with you turning them down since everyone of them had been a cocky arrogant arshehole. But the one thing you didn’t want to admit to yourself was you were scared of falling in love. The last time you did, it didn’t end well. Ever since then, you tried to keep your distance and your emotions locked up. After all those years of isolation, you eventually led yourself to believe your curse made you incapable of love.

Tag List: @smileygirl08 @peachyevergreen @Lustdere @moonlights27 @krazykatkay456 @buckysjuicyplums @oi-itsemily @ahahanofanks @iberandom @bittergomez @holyhumorliteraturelight @bells3333 @ashdab2611 @toomanybandstocare @twilight-kpop @cricketlicket @5sosfanforever2001 @justine-en @bitchy-witchy-post-mortem @shakespeareanbooty @pancake-pages @elisemurphy06 @ineffabledears @bella-stenbakken @seraphpheonix @trickylittlewitch @twilightrox @hobodolly @big-galaxy-chaos @mega-ultra-so-awesome-it-hurts @mikariell95 @decaffeinated--fangirl @lovestomanyfandoms @fairyunhappy @chaoticsimptown @leelee-ishman @hanster1998 @coricosplays @secretpickleprofessordean @itsbqueenthings @theweasleythatgotintoslytherin @corpseism

#jasper hale #jasper hale imagine #jasper hale x reader #jasper hale x y/n #jasper hale x you #jasper whitlock #jasper whitlock imagine #twilight imagine #twilight imagines #jasper whitlock x reader

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jonathananubian · 3 years

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Aliit Ori'shya eyn Eyayah be Ruyot [Star Wars/Mandalorian Fanfic]

Aliit Ori'shya eyn Eyayah be Ruyot: Family is more than an echo of the past.

Summary: When a Jedi artifact sends Din somewhere else the poor man is disoriented and confused. He has no idea what’s going on or why the lights were suddenly so bright. He plans on keeping a low profile and scouting out this new place until he hears the sound of a young voice crying out in pain. Harsh words that should never be spoken to a child follow the sound of another blow and Din can’t help but to intervene.

Characters: Din Djarin, CC-2224 | Cody, CT-7567, Dred Priest, Jango Fett, Mij Gilamar, Kal Skirata.

Tags: Force Shenanigans, Protective Din, BAMF Din, Clone Cadets, Cuy’val Dar Dred Priest, Time travel, Not beta-read. (Now a chapter fic.)

Warnings: Child abuse, violence, cursing.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32481793

Spots danced across his vision as Din let out a low groan. His entire body felt as if it had fallen asleep, the pins and needles making him twitch and wince behind his helmet. Lifting his head he quickly glanced around for any signs of life before letting out a relieved sigh too low for the helmet speaker to pick up. Slowly sitting up he stared at the unfamiliar white walls around him and frowned in confusion.

This was not the damp old cave he’d found himself in earlier that cycle.

The last thing he remembered was stumbling and falling through a wall that should have been solid, but wasn’t. The walls changed from a damp old cave tunnel to a stagnant aired cavern with carved pillars. It looked exactly like the kind of thing Luke had asked him to look out for on his jobs so he’d cautiously made his way up the steps to the small altar at the top.

As he strode forward lights burst into life around him, startling him into reaching for his weapons. When nothing happened he relaxed his death grip on his spear and let out a small sigh of relief.

Resting in an indent in the elaborately carved stone was an orb that was smaller than his palm. It seemed opaque at first but the longer he stared at it, wondering if he should touch it or not, the clearer it became. Inside were dancing flecks of color that swirled together like an infinitesimal galaxy, almost hypnotic in the way they reflected the light.

Warily he reached for the orb, knowing that there was an inherent danger in anything touched or made by Jedi magic. Picking it up he tensed for something strange to happen, though Luke had told him most artifacts didn’t react to someone who was both force null and encased in beskar. When nothing happened he gripped the orb more firmly and carefully made his way back the way he’d come.

Of course it was just his luck that nothing ever went quite the way he expected.

There was a loud rumble as everything began to shake around him. He could hear the cracking of stone and looked up as sharp stalactites fell from the ceiling toward him. Diving out of the way he hissed in alarm as his grip on the orb proved weak.

The orb clattered to the ground and he sucked in a sharp breath as it rolled a few feet away from his outstretched hand. Scrambling to his feet he darted forward to grab it- but was too late.

Another chunk of rock detached from the ceiling and he watched it fall as if in slow motion.

The sound of the orb shattering was loud in the sudden silence that followed.

Then Din saw white.

Now here he was, stalking the white halls of the strange facility as he tried to figure out what in the Ka’ra had happened. Oh, he knew it was force osik. Din just didn’t know what kind of force osik. Luke had never been the best at explaining it in terms he understood and after the many long lectures he’d kind of started to tune it all out.

Checking around another bland corner into another junction that looked exactly like every other one he’d passed Din was about to dash across the open space when a sound was picked up by his helmet.

It froze him in his tracks, entire body stiff and ears straining just in case he’d misheard.

“Pathetic! Absolutely useless! Quit that bitching or I will twist off your head and shit down your neck!” The voice was rough, masculine, and yelling at a volume that was near impossible to miss.

But that wasn’t what Din was focused on.

The sound of a child trying and failing to muffle their cries of pain made his heart race in his chest and his blood boil in his veins.

Without a single thought to the consequences he pushed himself away from the wall and stalked down the hall the noise had come from, hands clenched at his sides.

“Did I say you could step out of line CC-2224? Get back in line before I put my boot so far up your ass you can spit shine it!” The more Din heard the faster he walked until he was practically belting down the long hallway.

“And you! You have the coordination of a one winged mynock tripping on spice! A defect like you wouldn’t know how to-" Slamming his hand down on the pad the door slid open to a large training room.

Din’s chest heaved as he took in the small forms standing around a circle in matching uniforms, not one of them taller than his waist. Near the center of the group was an armored man with one large hand around the neck of a blonde child, pinning them against the mats as they scrabbled to escape. There were recent bruises on the child’s face and blood running from their nose.

Din saw red.

“Demagolka!” He snarled, spear already in his hands as he stalked forward like the deadly hunter he was.

“Who the fu-” The man never got a chance to finish his sentence before Din was on him.

The guy put up a fight, Din would give him that, but he clearly hadn’t kept up with whatever training he’d been raised with.

Din on the other hand? He’d been training since his buir saved him during the Clone Wars. Had fought on the front lines during the Purge, and killed a Greater Krayt Dragon.

In the end the demagolka was dead with Din’s spear shoved up into his ribcage through a gap in his armor.

The children stared at him, looking too scared to move, as Din stood over their former tormentor. Pulling his spear out of the quickly cooling corpse he set it onto the ground and turned to regard the small blonde child.

Some time during the fight one of the older children had rushed forward and pulled the injured child away, cradling the blonde to their chest. As Din came closer the two of them flinched, holding fast to one another and trying desperately not to cry. Din stopped a few feet away and crouched so he wasn’t towering over them.

“Hey there. I’m not here to hurt you, I swear.” The children stiffened, their faces scrunching up slightly in confusion.

Din looked between them and frowned. The ade were very similar in appearance and he was fairly certain they were brothers. Not twins, one of them was at least a year or two younger, but definitely related.

But where had he seen a face like that before…

Din pushed the thought away. It was irrelevant to the situation at hand. Reaching into the pouches on his belt he slowly pulled out a small medical pack and showed it to the children. “It’s just some alcohol wipes and bacta spray. I want to make sure they’re okay. Will you let me?” He motioned toward the blonde who in turn looked up at their potentially elder sibling.

The child watched him for a moment, amber eyes intelligent and sharp, before they flicked over to the body of the fake Mandalorian. After a moment or two of silence the child turned back to him and nodded curtly.

Din’s shoulders relaxed and he smiled. “Thank you.” Getting closer he knelt in front of the children and opened the package in front of them. Taking out the alcohol wipe he gently ran it over the boy’s face, making a low noise of reassurance when the child flinched and let out a hiss of pain. “Hey, you’re doing good kid.” He soothed quietly as he checked the rest of their bruises. He had to hold back another flash of anger at the sight of a handprint that almost completely encircled the slender neck.

He should have inflicted a lot more pain on the demagolka.

“There you go, kid, feeling a bit better?” The child blinked dark brown eyes up at him and hesitantly nodded. Din reached over and ruffled their short cropped hair. “Mandokarla.” He said warmly.

The child let out a surprised squeak and ducked further into the arms of their ori’vod, who frowned up at him in confusion. Din got to his feet and looked around at the other children, looking for any further injuries, and paused as the strangeness of their appearance finally registered.

Every single one of them shared the same features.

It wasn’t exact, he was observant enough to notice small differences, but they were all so similar it was unsettling.

Then it clicked.

Clones.

Just like Boba.

The very thought made Din’s mind race. Had the last remnants of the Empire somehow gotten hold of Boba’s dna and re-started their clone army? Din thought they’d moved on to the damned droid troopers and attempting to use Grogu’s blood to give them access to Jedi magic. Did they bring back the clones because Moff Gideon had failed?

As the children continued to watch him warily one of them finally stepped forward. “Sir?” They said, voice shaking slightly.

Din snapped out of his thoughts and turned toward the child. “Yes?” He said softly. Clones or not they were just children. Injured, scared, children.

“What are your Orders, Sir? A-are you our new Sergeant now?” The child stood stiffly, arms at his sides even as his bottom lip trembled with nerves.

Din melted at the sight.

“No orders.” He said quietly, still worried he might spook the lot of them. “And I’m no one’s sergeant. I’m a Beroya.” He wasn’t sure if the kids knew what that was but he didn’t feel like explaining further. “But I don’t think we should stay here.” He glanced back at the corpse and swallowed the curses that tried to force themselves out of his mouth. “If they have friends then they’ll probably realize they’re dead soon.”

The kids stared up at him in confusion, looking so lost it hurt his soul. “Hey, I’m not going to let someone like that hurt you again. Okay?” He could feel their eyes on him and straightened further. “I swear. I will protect each and every one of you with my last breath.”

“Why?” The child holding onto the blonde asked, tone heated. “We’re just clones.”

Din thought carefully about what to say for a moment before he decided it was best to just tell the truth. “One of my ori’vode, my… elder brothers, is a clone. He’s known as one of the best bounty hunters in the galaxy.” Din stared right at the child as he spoke. “He is a person, just like you, and all of you have worth.”

There was a sense of something holding its breath, of tense anticipation, before the child’s eyes began to shine and he gave Din a watery smile. He opened his mouth to speak when the sound of a door opening behind them alerted Din to uninvited guests.

“What the fuck is going on in here!” An enraged voice that sounded oddly familiar barked behind him.

In an instant Din turned, dove for his spear, and sprang to his feet; placing his body between the unknown voice and the children.

“Stay behind me!” He ordered the children calmly through the speaker of his helmet.

Standing just inside the doorway were three sentients dressed in beskar’gam. Din growled, watching their every move.

Wearing beskar’gam used to mean that someone was an ally. But with all he’d seen in the last few months there was no guarantee that these three were not also demagolkase.

“Who the hell are you? What are you- is that fucking Priest?” The one in the sandy-yellow of vengeance asked in Mando’a, sounding shocked and incredulous.

“Cadets, get away from them! They’re an intruder!” The second one in gold beskar’gam barked at the children, although his voice was filled more with concern than anything else.

Behind him the children shifted anxiously on their feet but didn’t move.

“Leave the ade alone. Your quarrel is with me.” Din growled, gripping the spear tighter.

“Why are you protecting them?” The one in blue and unpainted beskar asked.

“Children are the future.” He stated firmly. “This is the Way.”

There was a long moment of silence before the one in silver and blue reached up to take off his helmet. “Then we are not your enemy.” Without the interference of the speaker Din stiffened as he finally placed the voice. “My name is Jango Fett, House Mereel.”

Dank ferrik, was that Boba’s buir? What the kark kind of Jedi magic was this?

"I think we need to sit down and have a little talk." Boba's buir said, intelligent eyes straying to the nearby corpse of the demagolka. "At the very least I have to thank you for taking out that trash."

Oh. Well... there really wasn't much else he could do, was there?

"Fine." He said lowering his spear. "But I want a medic to check on the ade. Some of them are injured."

Jango Fett's face split into a grin that set off all of Din's danger senses.

"That can be arranged."

#din djarin #the mandalorian #star wars clone wars #time travel #force shenanigans #somebody dies and it is entirely deserved #star wars fanfiction #cc-2224 #ct-7567 #jango fett

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seokjinsdisciple · 4 years

Text

It’s a Deal - six

supernatural! johnny x reader x jaehyun, mate!au

Word Count: 1.9k

sorry its been forever oops

tags: @thatonekpopsweater, @queen-of-himbos , @yourchasingsunsetslove, @a-brooding-bird

send me a dm or an ask to be on the taglist

warnings: language, supernatural stuff

series masterlist

The next two weeks passed quickly and with relatively few problems. Well as little problems as you can have when two fae men move into your one bedroom apartment. You had started sleeping on the couch, due to the fact that both Johnny and JAehyun refused to sleep anywhere but the bed (you thought it was for comfort but you were beginning to think it was because they wanted to sleep with you), but every morning you found yourself wrapped in one of their arms, the others legs draped over your own.

Jaehyun had signed up for classes, meaning that you saw the both of them pretty much everyday all day long. You had expected to be completely and utterly annoyed by the both of them, but you were actually starting to enjoy their presence. You were loving the fact that Jaehyun could get on Johnny’s nerves, the two of you often teaming up to annoy him. And Johnny had become much more relaxed than you had ever known him to be.

Today was different, though. Jaehyun and Johnny were talking in hushed whispers from the kitchen when you woke up. Their voices weren’t quite loud enough to hear, but enough to make your heart beat faster. The idea of them having a conversation that you couldn’t be apart of twisting your stomach into knots.

You were forced to remember the fact that they were faeries, and they had both tricked you in one way or the other. The past two weeks had helped you forget what you needed to remember. They couldn’t be trusted.

With quiet footsteps and open ears you got as close to your bedroom door as you could.

“I just don’t think it's a good time for her to go back there,” Johnny’s voice whispered harshly.

“I don’t think so either, but father is insisting, and I can’t say no.”

“This is all because you had to go and make her your betrothed. Which I’m still pissed about by the way.”

“Oh please brother, we can share,” Jaehyun’s whisper teased, “Such a pretty little plaything like her is too hard to resist.”

Johnny let out a loud grumble at that, his anger clearly causing him to forget that you were asleep. You decided to step into the room when a loud thump sounded against the wall.

“What the hell is going on?” You asked, eyes widening at the sight of Jaehyun’s body being pressed against the wall and Johnny’s hand around his throat. At the sound of your voice Johnny dropped his hand, stepping away from his brother.

“Don’t worry about it,” he spoke hastily.

“I’m all right, doll,” Jaehyun smiled at you, “Nothing but a little brotherly spat.”

“Well next time argue in the afternoon,” you sighed, “I’m tired.”

Jaehyun just let out a giggle at that, the heavenly noise something you hadn’t gotten used to in the past two weeks. It was a really beautiful sound, like a hundred little bells ringing softly. It was hard to describe really, and you had decided to attribute it to the fact that he was fae royalty.

The rest of the morning was spent slowly getting ready, you wanting to go to the cafe to study, and Johnny and Jaehyun refusing to let you go alone. So you let them come, thanking every higher being out there that they actually stayed relatively quiet while you were doing your work. You had fully expected them to be bothering you and talking about useless things, but they were actually quite helpful.

You had forgotten about their conversation earlier, so when they asked you to come with them back to the palace realized exactly why they had been so helpful. They knew you would never agree if you had work left to do, and if they had been annoying you all day long.

“So that’s why you were being nice to me,” you laughed (mostly at yourself).

“Hey! We are always nice!” Jaehyun had protested, following quickly behind you and Johnny, who was currently dragging you towards the portal.

“You both tricked me into deals and debts or whatever,” you glanced back at him, “You got me involved in confusing fae magic and also have been living in my tiny ass apartment without my permission.”

“Well if you moved into the palace that wouldn’t be a problem!” Jaehyun exclaimed, quickly pouting when Johnny shot him a look and you slapped him in the arm.

“Before we go through, there’s one thing you have to know,” Johnny started, “You are being presented as a prince’s betrothed at a ball attended by lords and ladies from all of my father’s lands. There is considerable danger to you attending tonight, and I don’t want you to wander around without me or Jaehyun being with you.”

“Trust me,” you sighed, “I wasn’t planning on going anywhere by myself.”

Satisfied with your answer, Johnny motioned to both you and Jaehyun, the three of you stepped through the portal and into the faerie world.

The palace was just how you remembered it, beautiful and so otherworldly that you were left breathless. Once again taking in the appearance of the fae around you and comparing it to your own appearance. You were worried about taking clothes for this party, you didn’t want to become indebted once again.

“Don’t worry about that,” Johnny whispered, “I’ve taken care of your gowns, and I promise you I expect nothing in return.”

You couldn’t help but let out a breath of relief, not completely trusting Johnny's words, but still grateful he recognized your worries.

“Stop reading my mind,” You added, a small grin forming on your face as Johnny sent a playful glare your way.

You found yourself back in the room you had been in before, both boys leaving you with the same smiling fae to get ready. You carded through the dresses in your closet, swearing that there was at least two dresses for every color that had ever existed. You picked out a pretty emerald green dress, recalling just how good Jaehyun had looked in the color. The fae who were helping you quickly swarming you with jewelry and hair products and makeup. Fussing over every detail of your appearance.

You smiled at yourself when they were done, you looked good. The dress hugging your curves, the jewelry they had picked out to match your dress shining brightly. You looked royal, and it was weird. But it felt good.

You saw Johnny in the mirror, blush rising to your cheeks as his eyes raked over your body. He pressed his body close to yours, smiling at you in the mirror.

“This isn’t fair,” he pouted, pressing a kiss behind your ear, “I’m taking you on a date after this.”

Goosebumps rose on your skin as his breath fanned close you the sensitive parts of your neck, his lips kissing down your neck until they reached your bare shoulder.

“And what if I say no?” you barely choked out, trying your hardest to hide just how much this was affecting you.

“You won’t,” he smiled, biting your shoulder so lightly that you could barely feel it, “You’re mine, not his.”

“I’m not yours,” you whispered, grinning as a noncommittal noise left his mouth, shrugging his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder, “Stop being so horny and take me to this stupid party. I wanna get it over with.”

Johnny just laughed at that, pressing one last kiss on your shoulder as you swatted him away.

“Hopefully this party goes better than the last,” he smiled at you, “I think I’ll lose my mind if another fae tricks you.”

“Shut up,” you groaned, “It was twice!”

“Once too many, now c’mon. Jaehyun’s gonna lose his shit if we don’t get into the ballroom soon.”

You were the center of attention all night. Dancing, twirling, getting drunk and eating all while talking to hundreds of fae. All of them wanted to meet the pretty human girl who had captured Jaehyun’s heart. You tried not to be offended when they asked you directly.

You kept your promise of staying near the boys for the whole night, the thought of another fae tricking you enough to listen to them. They pulled you out of the dances when it seemed like you couldn’t stop. Telling you what to eat and drink and even giving you your own special bottle of liquor. Johnny explaining to you that fae alcohol would make you extremely happy and unbearably out of control.

But now here you were, drunk, tired and needing to pee. You excused yourself from the boring fae you had been sitting with, stumbling out of the ballroom in order to find the bathroom.

You bumped into a rather lanky man, attractive (as most faes were), but lanky nonetheless. He caught you as you stumbled, shooting you a dazzling smile as you stared at his face.

You must be YN,” he let out a light laugh, “It’s so good to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“You have?” you asked, your mind completely fuzzy as you smiled dumbly up at him.

“Of course,” he grinned, “Now that I’m seeing you I understand why you are so hard for all these boys to resist. I’d quite like to take a bite out of you myself.”

His grin had turned almost wolfish, his grip tightening on your shoulders. You had started to panic, his earlier friendliness disappearing as he pulled you tight against him.

“Taeyong,” Johnny’s voice rang out behind the man’s form, “I thought I made it clear to Doyoung that no one from his territory was allowed to be in attendance.”

“Oh don’t be such a bore,” Taeyong snapped, releasing you from his grip and spinning to look at Johnny, “We were just talking.”

“I’m sure you were,” Johnny spoke, his words sharp as he tried to keep his cool, “Get out of the palace Taeyong. And tell Doyoung that the next time he sends a puppet to do his bidding, their heads will be sent in a box to his estate.”

Taeyong was grinning now, bowing lowly before turning back to you, “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again, Yn. Can’t wait,” he shot you a wink before walking towards the entrance of the palace.

“Are you okay?” Johnny asked, rushing over to you and pulling you into his arms.

“I’m fine,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around Johnny’s body.

“I told you to stay with us,” Johnny lightly scolded, pulling you away so that he could take in your appearance.

“I know,” you whispered, tears burning at your eyes, “Would he have hurt me?”

Johnny didn’t answer you, he just pulled you close and held you tight. His calming scent filling your nose and slowing the pounding of your heart.

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incorrect-julie-and-the-phantoms · 3 years

Note

Fanfic trope! Alex/reggie, alex kiss reggie after he says something kinda dumb but very very sweet? Thks!

Thank you for the prompt! I know this isn’t exactly what you were thinking but this little idea popped up into mind and nagged me until it was written. I hope you enjoy!

Hot Dog Engine, Alex/Reggie

Tags: Fluff, College AU, blink and you miss it angst, some pining

Alex’s problem was all Luke’s fault.

Not that he had done it intentionally. But ever since Luke and Jullie started dating he had been absent from their hangouts, leaving Alex and Reggie to hang out. Alone.

At first it had been awkward, both of them not sure how to act with each other outside the usual dynamic of their group, but that soon passed. Overall, it wasn’t that different than when it was the three of them.

Without Luke there to distract both of them, Alex was paying complete attention to Reggie and noticing things that he would have otherwise missed. Like how Reggie had a habit of eating his skittles in color order, and that he had a habit of bouncing a little when he was really excited about something. How his eyes scrunched and his voice got a little higher pitched when he was being defensive.

At some point Alex realized that he noticed these because he was staring. Staring at Reggie’s fingers, at his mouth while he ate. Staring over at Reggie whenever they were practicing or looking to him first whenever anybody had good news. Staring as he started another argument with him just so he could see his eyes scrunch that way again.

Didn’t take a genius to figure out what that meant.

He wasn’t sure when it had happened, but one second he was just a guy hanging out with one of his best friends and the next he was a guy who was hopelessly crushing on a sweet, oblivious idiot. Alex tried to ignore the part of him that was completely unsurprised.

It wouldn’t have been a problem, but Reggie was everywhere. At some point, Reggie had decided that bothering Alex was his favorite pastime and since then had started seeking out Alex whenever he was bored, always having something he was excited to talk to somebody about. So Alex had to just sit there with his best friend and pretend that he didn’t want to kiss him all the time. It got really hard That Reggie flirting with every single girl who looked at him didn’t bother him. That it didn’t especially bother him when Reggie flirted with Flynn right in front of him at a party one Friday night.

That it was definitely not the reason he was sulking in the studio, trying to finish the reading assignment that was due Monday.

“Hey Alex,” a voice called out from the other side of the room. Alex glanced up to see Reggie lounging in the doorway. His signature leather jacket must have been too hot for the weather because he was just wearing a pair of slightly baggy jeans and a slightly too small t-shirt with his usual flannel around his waist.

Alex looked back down at his book without replying, ignoring the way his heart skipped a beat at Reggie’s lazy smile.

“Aleeeeex,” Reggie whined when he realized Alex wasn’t gonna answer him. “Entertain me I’m bored.”

Alex chose not to acknowledge him again, turning the page instead. He heard Reggie huff in annoyance at being ignored and Alex repressed a grin of amusement. He was sulking for a reason dammit! He was so distracted with not paying attention to Reggie that he didn’t notice the sound of him walking over until it was too late.

“Oof!” Alex let out a quiet noise of surprise at the sudden weight in his lap. He looked down to see Reggie smiling up at him with an impish grin.

“Hey,” Reggie winked.

“Can I help you?” Alex asked in mock annoyance.

“Yeah, hang out with me. I’m bored.”

Alex rolled his eyes and looked back down at his book. “Go bother Luke.”

“Luke’s with Julie for their six months,” Reggie waved his hand dismissively.

“How disappointing for you,” Alex said dryly.

“I wanna hang out with you more anyways,” Reggie’s impish smile turned bashful at that. How he managed to look bashful while draped across Alex like a cat was beyond him.

Even though Reggie had said it many times before, a warm feeling blossomed in Alex’s chest and he couldn’t help the small smile he felt stretch across his face. He hid his face in his book as he felt the warmth spread to his cheeks. Reggie shifted so only his head was in Alex’s lap instead of his whole body. They sat in silence for a moment, Alex pretending to read and that he didn’t notice Reggie’s expectant gaze.

Alex finally broke the silence. “Even if I wanted to hang out, I gotta finish this book by tonight so I have time for practice later.” He hoped that would be enough of an excuse to get Reggie to go away. “I have an exam tomorrow, and I’m not about to give Professor Covington a reason to fail me.”

“His obsession with failing you is kinda weird, huh?” Reggie mused. “Maybe he’s trying to fail cause he wants you to stay with him another year.” Reggie nudged Alex to look at him, eyebrows waggling. “Maybe Professor Covington has a crush on you.”

Alex shuddered and the other boy started shaking with laughter at his own joke. “Please no.”

“If you don’t want to do it you could always drop out and start a company with me.”

“Don’t you think that would be impractical?” Alex replied in a teasing tone.

Reggie scoffed. “Course not. I got the whole thing planned out”

“Okay,” Alex laughed, lowering his book, “then what does our company do?”

“Uh…” Reggie reached a hand up to scratch his nose pensively.

“Let me get this straight,” Alex said. He restrained himself from adding ‘which I am not.’ “You want me, a broke college student, to drop out of college with you, another broke college student, to start a company which you have no plan for?”

“Hold on,” Reggie said defensively, sitting up so he and Alex were face to face. “I totally have a plan.”

Alex’s mouth went dry as Reggie put his face so close to his own, his field of vision narrowing to dark green eyes and lips stretched into a crooked grin. All he would have to do to close the gap would be to lean forward just a couple inches—

“Prove it,” Alex teased, mentally chasing the thoughts from his head as he gently pushed Reggie further away. He had gotten good at ignoring those kinds of thoughts the past couple months.

Reggie stood with exaggerated showmanship. “Well, I am so glad that you asked.” He grabbed the flannel from his waist, tied it around his neck like a really crappy cape, and struck a dramatic pose. “Are you ready for this awesome?” He asked with mock seriousness.

Dork, Alex thought to himself. “By all means Reginald. Blow me away.” Reggie opened his mouth and Alex just knew he was going to hear the biggest load of bullshit ever.

“Well, my slightly taller friend, have you ever been walking down the street and realized that if you didn’t get a hotdog in the next ten minutes you would die?’”

“No.”

“Have you been looking for an easy way to get meals while on a long car trip that doesn't involve stopping at a restaurant?”

“Still no.”

“Have you ever wondered if you were getting the most out of your vehicle?”

“I don’t have a car Reg,” Alex reminded him. Where was he going with this?

“Well,” Reggie drove forward undeterred, “have I got news for you. Now introducing…” Reggie paused his theatrics to look over at Alex expectantly, “little help?” Alex rolled his eyes and began to give a drumroll with his feet. “Now introducing… the hot dog engine!”

Alex snorted. “The what?”

“The hot dog engine!” Reggie said excitedly. “On the outside, a regular car. But when you pop open the hood, BAM!” Reggie loudly clapped his hands together, “a hot dog cooker right next to your engine, powered by the same battery!”

Alex started laughing at that. “Reggie, that is so dangerous. You could get oil or battery acid on the hot dogs which would kill you.”

Reggie gasped in offense, “where is your sense of adventure?”

“Must have lost it when I lived past the ripe old age of 18,” Alex said back dryly.

Reggie huffed before readapting his dramatic businessman persona. “Well not to worry, I have plenty more where that came from.”

“Oh goodness please no,” Alex said in mock horror.

“Leashes for fish,” Reggie shot out.

“Useless”

“Crocs that smell like pumpkin spice.”

“Who’s purposely gonna smell them?”

“Pet rocks.”

“Already done.”

“Umbrellas for your shoes,”

“What’s with you and feet?”

Reggie choked on a laugh and stared at him for a moment. Alex was definitely amused by this whole conversation, but if Reggie kept staring at him and saying stupid things that made him laugh they were gonna have a problem. He needed to shut Reggie up somehow.

His friend opened his mouth to suggest his next ridiculous idea, “what about an air cannon that blows out candles for you—hmph!”

The tiny ‘hmph’ of surprise was because Alex had figured how to shut him up, by launching himself across the room and pressing their lips together.

Oh god, Alex thought to himself the moment he realized he was kissing him. He pulled away, stepping back to look at Reggie who was staring at him wide-eyed, frozen in shock. Oh crap, oh god. What did I do? He’s gonna freak out he's gonna hate me he’s gonna—

“Well that just gave me a great idea,” Reggie cut through Alex’s train of thoughts.

“R-Reggie I’m so sorry,” Alex quickly stammered out his apology.

“Alex—” Reggie tried to speak.

“I shouldn’t have just kissed you like that. I know you and Flynn just started having a thing and that you don’t like me that way—”

“ALEX,” Reggie said more forcefully. Alex stopped his rambling and stared up at his friend anxiously. Reggie took a deep breath, “my idea was that you could just bring your boyfriend to lecture to show Professor Covington you aren’t interested in him.”

That didn’t make sense, “who’s my boyfriend?”

“Well me, if you stop freaking out long enough to kiss me again.” Reggie’s face turned bright red as he processed what he said. “I-I mean if you want to. You don’t gotta um…”

Alex felt the wide smile on his own face as he processed what Reggie was saying. He reached out and interlocked their fingers together. “Can I kiss you again Reggie?”

“Yeah, that’d be nice.”

The second kiss was so much better than the first. The soft press of Reggie’s lips against his own made the butterflies he had been trying to digest for months fly around his chest for free. The hand that wasn’t holding Reggie’s moved up to cup the back of his head.

Eventually, Reggie pulled away, his breath was a little quicker than before and his cheeks were flushed. Alex felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest with anxiety and excitement.

“I should probably tell you that I’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” Reggie laughed.

“Oh,” Alex felt the tips of his ears burn. “Yeah. Uh, yeah. I mean, me too.”

The answering smile from the boy in front of him was blinding. “Oh nice, does that mean I can be your boyfriend and make Professor Covington jealous?”

“You do know professor Covington just hates me cause he hates everyone right?”

“Alex,” Reggie huffed in annoyance, “you’re ruining the moment.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “Yes, you can be my boyfriend.”

Leaning in for their third kiss was Reggie’s response to that statement, and it was even better than the second.

Then the fourth which was better than the third. Then the fifth that was better than the sixth and so on until they both eventually lost count.

#alex x reggie #jatp #julie and the phantoms #how do i use the line cut thingy?#prompt #fanfiction

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7wanderingpaws · 4 years

Text

Simply, yours (10)

Pairing: Baekhyun x reader

Genre: family AU, hapkido teacher AU, PhD AU

Word count: 6.5K

Warnings: cursing

A/N: Hello, hi! Welcome back! This chapter has a LOT of stuff happening... But at the end of the day, we all want to have a pleasant read, right? I hope you will like this one, I enjoyed writing it a whole lot... 😊💖 Pls let me know what you thought, it helps me so much! Have a good day/night! ^^ Btw what did you think of BBHs cover of BoA? I LOVE IT! Original was already so good and he just made it more speacial by adding his sweet flavor... 💕

tags: @milky-baek @itsbaekhyunsbutt @luvhtears @shesdreaminginoverdose @cynthbee @jummyjammy @junmyeonnoona (if you want to be tagged/untagged please let me know!)

MASTERLIST

1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7 . 8 . 9 . 10

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

That was what you've been muttering to yourself for the past two hours on your way back home and basically ever since you turned your back on him. Literally. Because you are that bad at controlling your emotions for some reason.

So as a way to punish yourself, you ended up popping into the nearest convenience store to your apartment and getting chocolates and sweet bakery because you… needed it. You had been dying to put something sweet into your mouth, so it could be hardly taken as a punishment, but you did find it as unnecessary expense, plus you were already halfway through looking like an elephant. But wow, what a sucky day, yucks.

It was one thing to be a little jealous about that girl, and a completely different thing to become cold towards Baekhyun and not even tell him what was bothering you. He didn't deserve that and you felt extremely guilty, to the point that you just entered your quiet, loving home and felt like crying like a baby.

Changing into comfy clothes, you didn't even bother with folding them, instead throwing them into the laundry basket, too preoccupied with your own guilt. Plus, your sweat pants felt tighter and uncomfortable around your thighs. How annoying. You needed to spend even more money now for the stupid XXXXXL size that you were slowly becoming.

You could bet that Jiyoung girl had the smallest size waist-

“Ah, stop it!” you shouted into nothing, tired of yourself and the whirlwind of emotions that you became. How was it possible to switch between emotions this fast? Your period wasn't the kindest but thankfully it was rarely painful and you only had terrible cravings instead of mood swings but this pregnancy was too much.

And in that moment, everything was getting on your nerves. You losing your job. You wanting to surprise your boyfriend. Him smiling like that at another woman. Him smiling. Seriously, why was he even smiling?! You weren't even there, so how dared he smile? Oh, and yeah that woman next to your man! You declining his request to stay until he was done. You should have stayed. You should have stayed and support him, enjoy the way he was doing his passion and maybe you would have understood what that Jiyoung girl was doing. Was she even a student?

You sighed. You wouldn't know. If she would have been a student, you didn't think she would dare to come collect him from his girlfriend like that.

You threw yourself into the softness of your pillows, chocolate bar in your mouth as you took a small bite and let your angry tears fall. This was so not you. This wasn't the strong, independent woman and if you would keep up this game, Baekhyun would notice too. He would see the faults in you.

“Stop thinking, you brat,” you warned yourself. “Stop it! Don't think! Just don't!”

And the worst?! You couldn't even touch your bump in that moment, you were that disgusted. It was all fault of the babies; they were making you like this, creating problems where there weren't any!

Before you could wallow even more, your phone rang. Scrambling quickly to get it in hopes to see Baekhyun's photo as your caller ID, you were surprised to see your mother's name dancing on the screen. That could only mean some bad news as you rarely talked. The last time you talked was nearly a month ago when she was checking up on you and your pregnancy and making sure Baekhyun was there for you.

Ignoring the way your hands were shaking, you answered the phone, feeling a bit of adrenaline rush in your blood causing slight dizziness. It'd been a while you felt lightheaded like this.

“Mum?”

“Hi, daughter,” she gasped, her voice gentle as always. “How are you? It's been a month almost, thought I'd check up on you.”

And there it all went. You started to wail at that question right away, unable to bear your mother's gentle voice. You didn't even realize how much you missed having a mother figure in this period of life, when she could give you advice, guidance and especially deep understanding.

“Are you crying?” she quipped, surprised at the sniffles that would soon follow with stifled sobs. “Oh, my, why are you crying? Is it the hormones?”

Well, was it the hormones? you asked yourself, but you were so incredibly clueless and so incredibly frustrated because of everything that you couldn't get a proper reply. “Ye-yes,” you hiccuped as hot tears streamed down your face. It was that type of crying where you just couldn't stop, the hysterical sobs needing to be let out, tears seeming to have an infinite storage somewhere inside of you.

Your mother sighed, but you imagined her affectionate gaze. “I understand. Although I don't know to what extent is having three babies burdening, any pregnancy is extremely difficult on your body, honey. Just let it all out and don't dwell too much on what is the reason. You don't need it now, so just let it out.”

At that you had to hide your face in the pillow and let out a little wail, because her words were warming you up so much, yet she was far away from you. Oh, dear, she had no clue what a rollercoaster of a ride you had put yourself and your boyfriend through, so you basically had every reason to have these feelings. She didn't even know you had been sacked. That was the reason you were crying, right?

“Is Baekhyun there?” your mother kept on going when she knew you wouldn't give her a coherent answer.

You hiccuped again, trying to make your mouth move. “N-no. Wo-worki-ing.”

“It's almost late evening, though,” she muttered to herself.

It was just 6pm, but the elders always had the specialty of saying “it's late in the night” when it was barely 8pm. You tried to smile at her antics, but it was painful. Because your boyfriend wasn't home. He was at that stupid training of his with stupid women that had to take the stupid hapkido class.

“What did you have for lunch-”

“I got sacked today,” you blurted suddenly and sniffed back big time, not even listening to her words.

“What do you mean you got sacked today?”

“Just exactly what I said. I am jobless.”

“How did you get sacked? You were promoted not long ago.”

You let out a loud breath, your lungs aching from all the crying. It just made more tears well up in your eyes again. “I had an idiot of a boss.” You should have definitely said it was all your fault, but currently you were feeling like the biggest loser in the world. “So it was better like this anyway. I can't even do much, soon I will be huge and… useless.”

Your mother tsked disapprovingly as you heard some shuffling in the background. “What is this silly talk, daughter. What did Baekhyun say?”

You gritted your teeth. “Why do you always ask about him?! He was happy I got sacked, okay?”

“Alright, alright, no need to shout at your mother.”

“But I don't want to talk about Baekhyun right now, so stop asking me!”

“Oh, I understand now,” she replied back nonchalantly, and some creaking noise provided just the perfect background. “As long as you think you can manage…”

“Yes, I can manage.”

“You and Baekh-”

“Don't.”

She sighed and you heard fire. She was probably warming up dinner in the kitchen. “Did he do something?”

You opened your mouth to retort but were stopped, because YES was your personal answer but NO was the fact. You wiped your tears quickly. “No. I mean... “ you trailed off and rolled yourself on your back, staring at the ceiling. “No.”

“Well then why are you so sensitive? I am trying to see what is wrong and you clearly have an issue with him. You can tell me honestly. Or don't.”

Just then you heard the code being typed in the entrance door, sign of Baekhyun arriving. You groaned loudly and stood up quickly to close the bedroom door before he could get in and have an easy access to bedroom but it was a wrong idea. Seeing black spots everywhere, you felt like your entire body just gained another 40 kilograms as an invisible weight pulled down on your shoulders making you stumble back into the mattress, the world spinning with along with you rather fast.

“I'll call you back,” you murmured softly into the phone and threw it away into the blanket somewhere, trying to make your head calm down.

Baekhyun called out your name, announcing his arrival but you felt like throwing up. You groaned as quietly as possible, scrunching up your face in hopes of stopping this terrible attack. Cold sweat made its way down your neck and you shivered as you felt a huge bulge in your stomach. But you were so extremely disoriented you could barely open your eyes let alone make it to the bathroom in time.

“Baekhyun,” you called out, “please bring me the bucket from the-” gulp, gulp, gulp.

Baekhyun walked into the bedroom but when he saw you his eyes went wide. “What is wrong? Hey, hey, what's- shit,” he cursed when he heard the familiar noise, and ran to the bathroom to get the little pink bucket as you gagged, trying to get on your fours, looking extremely shaken up. Tears were streaming down your face, your knees and arms trembling violently before you saw two feet clad in white socks and then bucket pushed into your face as Baekhyun reached for you with his other hand to keep your balance up. “Shh, c'mon, let it out. Don't keep it back,” he murmured urgently and sweeped the hair that was plastered to your forehead and cheeks away, noticing the snot and flushed cheeks. Just then, finally, you let it all out. Your throat was on fire but your head kept pulling you in one direction into which you would have easily fell if it weren't for the safety of Baekhyun's arms. “Shh, you're doing well.”

Although not seeing his face, you knew he was tense and probably wondering what made you this terribly sick when food and spit kept constantly coming out until it became just violent gagging, nothing able to come out anymore, only caused by your head spinning so much it triggered your stomach. Wasn't it just today that you were thankful for not having to go through this again?

You calmed down after another couple of minutes, completely spent. “Baekhyun,” you murmured, afraid to open your eyes. He hummed as he took the bucket to the side, and looked at you closely as he brought his other hand to your pale face, wiping the tears away. “I'm very dizzy.”

“Look at me, baby,” he murmured, frowning a little and wanting to check the focus in your eyes.

You shook your head ever so gently before your lower lip trembled. “I can't… please,” you said just as you were about to crash on him again, the invisible pull still there.

“Okay. Lay down for me, can you do that?” he asked gently. “I will help you move now, don't get startled.” And he did so, pushing on your shoulders a bit, helping you lie down. He took all the pillows on the bed and put your head under them, by then knowing very well what to do when you got into this kind of situation. “Keep your head up for me, and your knees too,” he whispered and patted your straightened-out legs. You did as he said and heard him move around the room before he came back with the little machine, pushing your arm through the hole to measure your blood pressure.

“Don't cry, sweetheart,” you heard him whisper as he tried to catch every single teardrop while the machine was working. He looked around for a glass of water which, of course, you didn't have.

“I feel like hell,” you said, your voice raw.

Baekhyun was thankful your eyes were closed, for he didn't want you to witness how worried and scared he was. Yes, you did get dizzy and many times sick, but to this extent? Never. He was already thinking three steps ahead, fishing his phone out of his pocket.

Beeping sound brought you back to the reality and Baekhyun checked, murmuring the results out loud, his frown now deep. “We are going to the hospital,” he decided.

“No!” you shouted, opening your eyes to look at him but you almost saw three Baekhyuns. Usually, you wouldn't mind but it made you want to throw up again. You were fast to close them, scrunching your face. “Please,” you sobbed, scared. “Make it stop! But don't call anyone!”

Baekhyun was already calling ambulance, leaving the room in case you would have a tantrum. He knew your blood pressure was skyrocketing and it made him worried sick; he didn't know what to do. Plus, he was told by your doctor that if your blood pressure reaches a certain level, you were eligible to call for ambulance.

As much as he hated you crying and going through this, he was there with you, every single step at a time.

“She will be alright,” said the doctor that was in the emergency room, checking your vitals on his clipboard. “She needs to rest for now, but,” he shook his head gently and looked up at Baekhyun whose eyes were bulging in fear of what was to come. “Her blood pressure was too high. It isn't good for the patient, neither it is good for the pregnancy.”

“What does that mean?”

He shrugged. “Well, it is very likely that she will have to endure this until she gives birth. Triplet pregnancy is a bit different than the usual ones. Since premature birth is highly possible to happen, which also may affect the health of the children, her not monitoring stress levels or taking good care of her body may also influence the health of the kids.” He sighed. “She is bearing a lot right now, so there are high risks of her fainting if this continues. As you told me, she had been struggling with high blood pressure this whole time, correct?”

Baekhyun nodded quickly.

“Well, she is in the fifteenth week which means almost half-way through till due date… It should have subsided by now but we can't do anything to change it; only give medication, unfortunately. Multiples' pregnancy is full of surprises.”

Baekhyun felt so helpless in that moment. Why did he get the feeling the doctor was clueless in a way too?

“Will she survive?” he asked seriously.

The doctor smiled gently. “She is completely healthy, so there is no risk of her losing her life, but this was definitely a dangerous situation. She shouldn't be left alone for too long as this occurs unexpectedly. It is rare anyway to have such strong reaction to high blood pressure, but this is what it takes to live for three more lives, I suppose.”

Oh, how Baekhyun wished he could take at least half of the burden you were bearing.

The doctor patted him twice on the shoulder before leaving. He looked at you, your sleeping figure so peaceful compared to couple of hours ago when you looked white as death and just about to pass out.

Sighing, he reached for your hand, gently squeezing it before murmuring a soft I love you. You were going through all of this because of him. He made you pregnant and now here you were, fighting for four lives: the unborn babies and your own.

His phone vibrating was what interrupted his train of thoughts. Quickly searching for it in his winter jacket, he saw your mother's name flashing on the screen, bad feeling already eating him away. Should he tell her where you were now? He would only make her worried.

“Hello, mother,” he answered, trying to make his voice as normal and even as possible while stroking your knuckles with is thumb.

“Oh, thank God you picked up, Baekhyun! I've been contacting my daughter for the past hour and she wouldn't answer. Are you with her now?”

Gulping, he said: “Yes. She is, uh, sleeping now.”

“Silly girl. I called her earlier today to check up on her and caught her in a bad state of mind,” she explained, her voice sounding exasperated. “She kept crying but wouldn't tell me why. This is none of my business, my dear, but did you two have a fight?”

Surprised was an understatement to Baekhyun. First of all, you didn't necessarily fight, it was your weird mood that created negative tension between you two but it was certainly not a fight; second of all he had no clue you were having such a mood prior to his arrival although he did see your swollen face and eyes. “No, we didn't have a fight. She has been acting strangely today, that is true. She lost her job and maybe the hormones and all…” he trailed off, trying to justify your actions though he himself wasn't sure.

“Yes, she told me she lost her job, but to me it didn't seem like that was her main issue. Let me be honest with you, Baekhyun,” she said and Baekhyun didn't have a good feeling about what was to come. “She didn't even want to hear your name. I don't know what exactly happened between you two, but it would be healthy if you both talk. You know she cannot get this upset while being pregnant. She was choking on her own sobs.”

Baekhyun closed his eyes and left your hand so he could pinch the bridge of his nose. Just what the hell was up with you? “She came to visit me at the university today, but she had such a change of mood, mother. I was shocked myself and I try to understand, I really do but it has been difficult recently.” Let alone she was lying to me, he thought but kept quiet.

Your mother sighed again; she trusted Baekhyun and wasn't doubtful about him at all. She also knew what pregnancy mood swings meant, so she was not blaming entirely you just as she knew Baekhyun could have been falsely accused. She knew him ever since he was a baby after all. “I understand, sweetie, and I am not blaming you at all. I will let you rest. I know you also don't have it easy, dear,” she added, affection lacing her voice, “so please I just ask you to have some patience with her for now. She can be a handful.”

“I do, mother, you know I do,” replied Baekhyun right away, looking at your sleeping face. “I can't get mad at her even if I want to.”

At that she laughed. “My sweet boy. I hope I can call you my son-in-law very soon.”

“Actually yes. Sooner than later.”

You found yourself seated on the wooden bench, a book about multiples' pregnancy perched on your thighs while you tried hard not to stare at your boyfriend clad in his hapkido uniform.

He was currently leading his class with Jiyoung, the girl because of whom it all went downwards. Bitterly, you stopped yourself from blaming it on someone like her. It wasn't her fault. Why, you ask? Because…

Few days ago

“Can you explain to me what happened on Monday?” murmured Baekhyun as you were both lying in bed, the dimmed light on his side still on, as he just finished going through his notes from the previous lectures. It made you resent yourself even more knowing how much he had on his plate, yet you couldn't even control your emotions as soon as he stood next to a pretty lady or he looked at you weirdly.

You sighed, rubbing your temple as you were lying on your back. Baekhyun turned his head to look at you, pausing, contemplating. Then, he slowly changed positions, lying on his right side, his hand slowly dragging on the surface of the mattress, reaching your hip and sliding it up over your belly that was sticking out, giving it gentle rubs as he waited patiently for you to talk.

“I won't get mad,” he had the need to add which made you scoff, and him chuckle.

“It's so fucking stupid, Baekhyun, and don't say I can't swear while being pregnant.”

He frowned gently. “Well, it obviously made you upset,” he argued, “so it cannot be fucking stupid.”

He saw you gritting your teeth, and he slid his gaze over your profile, how the light was illuminating the part of your face to which he was turned to. He honestly thought you looked breathtaking and would have kissed you whole night if it weren't for the confusion he was currently feeling. In that moment, he wanted answers more than anything.

“What is Jiyoung-” you trailed off and Baekhyun raised an eyebrow, “to you? To your class? To… hapkido?” Asking, instead of answering him. Great. Although, you weren't expecting silence that followed. You imagined him chuckling at your ridiculousness but he didn't. He didn't and it almost made you lose yourself once again, but he spoke: “She is a master like me,” he spoke softly, and you focused on his warm hand sliding over your belly. You turned your head a little to catch his gaze that was already burning holes on your face. “I didn't tell you until I was sure, which I became on Monday, but then things happened…”

“Sure about what?”

“I am leading the hapkido universiade team with her, but I am the main master,” he revealed, his face still in a gentle frown. “She was assigned to do it together with me, so that is why she was there during practice, too. And she will be from now on until July.”

“But is she like a teacher at Sungkyunkwan or something?”

He shook his head. “She is from Kyunghee university where she is the head of department. There was a joint alliance with them for the hapkido team and also, if we win this, I might have a chance to work with the National team later on,” he explained patiently, not tearing his gaze away from yours.

So many things you were founding out, so many good news. That meant Jiyoung was older than Baekhyun! That was definitely good news! And you ruined it all on Monday and you completely misunderstood the entire situation.

“Baekhyun,” you whispered, closing your eyes. Humming in response, he now caressed your cheek, his thumb making slow circles. “I'm so sorry. For being the way I was. What you just said,” you stuttered, opening your eyes, urgency in them, “is all amazing news and I couldn't be any more proud of you.”

“Shh, it's okay, princess,” he whispered, scooting closer to your side.

“No,” you shook your head, “I thought… I was… jealous, so jealous. I shouldn't have let the emotions control me like that. I shouldn't have just left you like that. I apologise,” you said sincerely, staring into his eyes that were now casted in shadow as he was with his back towards the light. Yet, the burning behind his eyes could hardly go unnoticed by you.

“You are so mean when you are jealous,” he blurted, intending to make you chuckle which he succeeded in, but then it disappeared just as quickly and you nudged his cheek with your nose to get more out from him. He sighed, eventually. “You know you can trust me, right? You know I would never want to lose your trust despite you lying to me.”

At that, you whimpered, pouting and widening your eyes at him, still terribly ashamed for what you had done.

“It's okay, I am not holding grudges,” he insisted, “but you know I can't stand you not trusting me, hm? I already know I want to spend the rest of my life with you and with our kids,” he murmured and at that he caressed the belly yet again as he buried his face in your neck, sending goosebumps down your spine. “So why do I have a feeling you keep doubting me?”

You stiffened, but his caresses didn't cease, which meant he wasn't upset. You raised your hand, playing with his hair as you mumbled: “No, I don't doubt you at all. It's the hormones. It's the babies. You know that before getting pregnant we were just fine.”

“I know,” he whispered, his hot breath fanning the skin on your pulse point, “it is always the babies fault, right?”

“Please.”

“Please, what?” he asked, curious as he pulled back to look at your face.

“Just… I apologise, Baekhyun.”

His eyes searched your gaze. “And I forgive you. But you need to promise me you won't get so worked up over nothing in the future.”

“I won't.”

“By nothing I mean anything. If it isn't a life or death situation, I don't want you to pay it too much attention.”

You watched his mouth move as he spoke, going on about what the doctor said, what the books said about triplet pregnancy, what he thought would be the best for you. And you tried to listen, you really did, but you were head over heels for him; he was mesmerizing and he understood your crazy whirlwind of emotions, and you loved him. So much.

“Are you listening?” he asked, snapping his fingers two times in front of your face. “Young lady, you keep zoning out on me.”

You smiled at his playful manner and he reciprocated the gorgeous grin as he leaned in closer. “I am listening, I am. I just realised once again how much I love you, Baekhyun.”

His grin turned into an affectionate, lopsided smile and he eyed your lips before flicking his orbs back to yours, murmuring your name. “And I love you. Do you understand? I love you. Only you. Can you actually understand?”

“No,” you whispered, dreamy look on your face as you were bewitched by him. He shook his head, and reached for your face, brushing the baby hair out of your forehead. “It's difficult to get it through my thick head that someone like you loves someone like me.”

“How would I make you understand then?”

“Show me. I want you to kiss me, it's been too long.”

He leaned in more, his eyes constantly flicking between your lips and your eyes as he muttered with narrowed eyes: “You're horny again, aren't you?”

You let out a breathy laugh as you sneaked your hands around his neck, bringing him closer. “For you? Always.”

He chuckled just as he kissed you, smiling widely into your mouth before playing with your lower lip, going straight for a gentle bite that he knew would ignite the fire in you.

“Are we doing another make-up sex?” he murmured between kisses, slowly climbing over you and you gladly widened your legs for him.

“Uh-uh, you're making love to me because you need to show me you love me.”

He kissed your neck, laughing quietly. “You're shameless.”

“So are you. Now, do your magic, honey.”

And now here you were, as per his order, watching him. As you would be every week whenever he wasn't home. If he could have, he would have dragged you to all his lectures as well, but you managed to talk him out of it. Honestly, you didn't mind this at all, as you really enjoyed observing him teaching hapkido and doing all the cool moves he was so smooth at doing. It was true you would get tired and wooden bench was only so comfortable for you to sit through couple of hours.

During the break, Baekhyun jogged to you with an energetic smile and leaned in to give you a quick peck. “You good over here?” he asked as his team erupted in big laughters, everyone enjoying their break time.

You beamed up at your boyfriend. “Yes, all fine.”

He smiled even wider at that, ruffling your hair as he looked down on the book in your lap. “Is it any good?”

“Well, for sure although I'm learning some disturbing stuff,” you muttered, worry flashing through your eyes that made Baekhyun raise his eyebrows.

“We will finish in 50 minutes and then you can tell me all about it, how is that?” he asked gently, and grabbed your cheeks to observe you closer.

You giggled and he seemed satisfied. “Alright, let's do that.”

He was just leaning in for another kiss when someone cleared their throat muttering a little excuse me, making Baekhyun move away from you. “Jiyoung.”

“Sorry to disturb, but I think it would be better if we stay longer today. For practice, I mean,” she said, her eyes wandering over to you and a bit lower, obviously looking at the baby bump. She snapped her eyes back at Baekhyun's questioning face. “It's better if we start going through basic kicks now, just so the kids can remember each technique correctly and from then build on it.”

You watched Baekhyun's back, but he was relaxed. “The kids are black belts, 4-5 dans in at least, though,” he replied diplomatically, “I don't see the point in going through basic kicks. Techniques should come to them as second nature by now.”

“I still think we should start having longer practices,” she insisted. “So your girlfriend might be a bit uncomfortable sitting here for such a long time.”

Wow, you thought, she was actually dragging you into this somehow. Interesting.

“I don't mind,” you heard yourself say before you could think twice. “So do whatever you deem correct.”

“Not today, no,” Baekhyun decided. “After December we will be good with longer practices if necessary,” he emphasized. “If we don't slack off, we can manage just fine.”

She gave a confident smile. “Alright then. I suppose you won't mind if we start the class now.”

What a bitch, you thought again.

“I won't mind. You may start,” was Baekhyun's curt nod and he turned around to face you, his actions heating your cheeks up as he crouched in front of you and took your hands in his before bringing them up to his lips.

“Alright, master.” And she was gone.

“What are you doing?” you whisper-shouted, but the excited glint in your eyes told Baekhyun you loved what he just pulled.

“Prioritizing you.”

You smiled graciously, and leaned in, pecking his lips.

Couple of weeks went by, you following Baekhyun to his practice, while you were found your way back to knitting that you so diligently used to do when you were younger, your mum teaching you as a little girl. Trying hard not to sound annoyed or desperate for any activity, you made sure you were always smiling and at peace in your mind. You promised your boyfriend you would look after yourself and that was what you had been trying to do. You even managed to sell some of the scarfs and gloves you knitted, given it was now nearing the end of December.

You smiled up at Baekhyun who dismissed the class, not waiting until Jiyoung and the students leave. “Ready to go?”

“Yes,” he replied, some perspiration on his forehead glistening in the practice room. “Can't wait to have a rest.”

You stood up to your feet slowly, minding your blood pressure, and reached for a handkerchief before grabbing his hand so he wouldn't move away. “Let me,” you murmured as you reached up and tapped the textile gently along his hairline.

His eyes focused down on you, affection and love melting his features into the softest smile. “Thank you.”

“We don't want daddy to catch a cold, right?” you chirped enthusiastically.

Baekhyun quirked an eyebrow at you, never hearing the nickname leave your mouth before. You would always get extremely embarrassed when he called you mummy, so this was a new discovery. “Yeah, otherwise how would daddy protect mummy, hm?”

Just as expected, you grew red in your face and quickly looked around, making sure no one was too near to overhear.

“What? You started,” he laughed quietly before leaning in to kiss your cheek, leaving it with a loud smooch and moisture on your skin. “Mummy.”

Your eyes widened and you laughed along with him before he moved to pack up his stuff. All the students who were now leaving farewelled cheerfully, always enjoying how flustered you would get from the attention, because master Baekhyun's girlfriend is so cute! and of course, he would encourage them, showing you off, which always warmed your heart.

“Not tired?”

You turned to the right to see Jiyoung approaching, a glass bottle in her hand as her high ponytail swung with each step she made. “I'm okay, thank you. Aren't you tired?”

“Nope,” she said, the p sound bopping like a bubble. “Master Baekhyun has been a bit slacking off with the workouts, eh?” she chuckled, nudging Baekhyun who was putting on his jacket with her elbow.

“Well, I can always make it especially hard for you, Jiyoung,” was his confident reply.

Oh my god, he was so hot you actually had to cross your legs while standing.

She smirked. “I would love to finally find out what does this especially hard mean, master.”

Well, you definitely didn't find her confidence hot. If anything, you wanted to warn her not to challenge Baekhyun too much.

“Alright, especially hard it is then,” he concluded just as he zipped up his jacket and took his gym bag, slugging it over his shoulder.

Jiyoung's eyes sparked with excitement, you could see that. It was always there, actually. Coming to the practices with him for two weeks, you kind of learnt to read her. She was a professional, you knew that much. She wasn't openly hitting on your boyfriend, no. It was in these subtle talks that irked you because you couldn't do anything about them, just tolerate and trust Baekhyun. Which, he really not once made you doubt - his trust. He would always prove you his love to you, and you to him. It was so obvious. He only had eyes for you.

Even now, as he stood in front of you, touching your hip gently and sliding his hand to your lower back to lead you out and saying his bye to the disappointed face of his hapkido partner, you knew it.

“Baekhyun,” you said once outside on the half-dead campus as you were making your way to the bus stop, the dark sky not showing any clouds which only meant another freezing night.

“Yes, angel.” He intertwined your fingers and pushed the connected hands into his pocket.

“I was thinking… What if I just went home?”

He stopped walking, looking at you a bit taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“I feel a bit useless, you know. But also quite tired from all of this,” you said showing your belly that was sticking out. “So I thought I would visit home.”

“But we have regular check ups at the clinic,” he replied, his eyes wandering over your features. His nose was growing a bit red which you found adorable, which is why you stood on your tippy toes and gave him a little peck on it.

“I know… but if I would miss one appoint-”

“No.”

“Baek-”

“You are not missing an appointment, baby,” he said, this time more sternly as he looked down at you, his hair that was trapped under a red beanie made his soft hair fall into his eyes.

You pressed your lips together, understanding his choice. “So, I would go only for two weeks.”

Something flashed across his eyes, something that you couldn't decipher. “What about me?”

Yes, what about Baekhyun? “You have lots on your plate right now,” you reasoned, squeezing his hand that was trapped in his pocket. “You could study better, and focus more on the practices. And, you could totally go and have a good time with your friends, or even invite them over, hm?”

“You actually think I would let you travel alone? With your blood pressure?”

“C'mon, by KTX it takes an hour and a half and then taxi just twenty minutes out of town.”

You felt like you were contradicting yourself. You, the one who was always trying to save up money was willing to pay a lot just to travel. KTX tickets were already very expensive. Taxis as well. But there was very little public transportation going to your village and you didn't feel like taking it with your big belly.

Baekhyun didn't say anything for a while, just staring at you. “Why this sudden- need?” is what he asked eventually.

“You know I miss mum,” you mumbled, averting your gaze.

“I know it's difficult,” he sighed, the action condensing his breath. “But I can't let you go by yourself, no way. Besides,” he added eagerly, “it's Korean new year soon. Can't you wait just a little longer? We both will be going home for that, you know that.”

He was right. It was literally around the corner.

“It's just in two weeks time, hm?” he asked, quirking his eyebrows at you, pleading to say yes. When he saw you contemplating, he mumbled: “I am not letting you go alone, anyway, so you better agree.”

You huffed in disbelief and dragged him towards the bus stop. “Let's go home. I will think about it.”

“Tomorrow we have a double-date with Chen's, did you forget that too?” he said as he let you drag him after you.

“No, I didn't. I would have gone the day after.”

“Well, you wouldn't leave me alone for such a long time, right?”

That made you stop and turn to him just to witness the puppy eyes and a prominent pout that made you smile softly at him as you walked even closer, resting your forehead on his jacket-clad chest. “I hate even the idea of not being with you for two weeks, Baekhyun.”

“Exactly. So just wait until we can go together, hm? Please? I don't want you to go. I can't even sleep without you anymore.”

You chuckled and leaned back, catching his small smile. “Alright. I think.”

He whined your name before he grabbed you by your waist with his free hand and brought your hips closer as he hovered a bit over you. “Alright, I won't go is what you wanted to say,” he muttered before kissing you hungrily. It was such a contrast; outside, the air was freezing, but your hot mouths pressed together, his body glued to yours as he breathed in loudly before tilting his head, asking for access with his eager tongue was hot, burning up. You moaned quietly, just for him to hear and he growled in response, a satisfactory hum leaving his throat while he circled your tongue, sucking on it, making you gasp because you were in public. He kissed you, and kissed you until you were completely breathless, until you were fully convinced that he didn't want you anywhere far from him. Even if it meant he could focus more on his practice, studies and whatever else you just listed. Even if it meant a short time.

He didn't want you away. And that was final.

#baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun angst #baekhyun smut #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun oneshot #baekhyun scenario #exo fanfiction #exo fluff #exo au #baekhyun au #exo angst #exo smut #kpop fanfiction #kpop au #kpop scenario #mywritings

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writefasttalkevenfaster · 4 years

Text

Arranged Chapter I (Poe Dameron x Reader)

Pairing: Poe Dameron x F!Reader (no Y/N)

Rating: None for this chapter (series: E)

Word Count: 4,004

Summary: Prince and Princess of your respective planets you both agree to wed, not for love, but for advantage and the public cannot know. But there’s only one problem -- the two have never met, not until your wedding day.

A/N: so this has been several months in progress. I’ll be tagging folks who liked my original post (if you don’t want to be tagged, just shoot me a message!). there’s a lot of set up in this chapter, but i promise it will pay off. I hope you give this series a read b/c its really something special to me. Special shoutouts to @laneygthememequeen, @bucky-of-the-opera, and @mrsrafaelbarba for all the support!!!

"Come on Poe, you cannot have seriously agreed to this," Poe Dameron did not bother to look from the mirror, eyes concentrated on delicately tucking the wide end into the knot before pulling it down into a nearly perfect loop. But why then, why did it feel like he was tying the noose around his neck before his long walk to the gallows? The dread his stomach certainly sat like it - twisting his guts into a kriffing useless knot, much like the one around his neck.

"I already agreed to it, Finn," the knot hung a little crooked - well perfect enough - just as his life was, "long time ago."

Was it that long? It was an instant. An instant that he went from sitting in his mother’s lap in her x-wing, listening to her hum, as she flipped switches and steered the ship across the sky over the Queen’s palace. The quiet buzz of the engine lulled him sleep, until she would rouse him as they swooped in for a soft landing after the daily patrol of the perimeter. The oranges of the sky now inky black, nothing but a glittering scattering of stars and distant planets he knew nothing of.

And now, he was stuffed in a stranger’s all too stuffy suit, tying a tie, and his feet cramping in tight shoes - and as he stared at himself in the mirror - he barely recognized himself. Probably because he definitely didn’t choose these clothes. A tradition - the bride’s family chooses the groom’s clothes. As he resisted the urge to squirm in his aching feet in his shoes, he wondered if they were hoping he couldn’t run with blue and purple feet.

“Two weeks isn’t that long ago,” But two weeks wasn’t when he decided. Two weeks ago was when he confirmed it - confirmed that he would do anything to please his Queen, the person who took him in when he had no one - when he had lost everyone. And this - this wasn’t a loss - it was a gain. A gain, of another at his side.

Finn shook his head, heaving a sigh, “Just tell me, tell me you’re not just doing this for the agreement.”

Was it the agreement why he was doing this? Yes, the troops the neighboring planet of Shar could give could end the war, the relief from supplies could stop millions from starving, and the bloodshed, the one that had stained his hands for all too long, could stop. He could finally stop — stop waking up in cold sweats from the images of broken children haunting him, the ghosts of families poking and prodding at his subconscious, until he begged for mercy. It could stop.

An offer like this didn't come around twice. Except that it did — and she had said no.

His Queen.

Queen Leia Organa, his mother by all intents and circumstances, received an offer for an alliance a long time ago, and all that was needed was a hand in marriage - and since Ben's hand was already promised - it only left him. It was considered and mulled over and examined time and time again. The Queen couldn't deny the offer was favorable — especially with forces stirring, plotting, scheming in the background. But in the foreground was her son. Barely old enough to read, much less decide on an offer of marriage. She said no, because at that time, she had the choice.

But this time, she didn’t. And neither did he.

“I’m not just doing it for the agreement,” he intoned, mustering up a small smile, “Even if I am, as my advisor, shouldn’t you be trying to make sure I go through it?”

He saw Finn frown at him in the mirror, “As your advisor, I’m trying to assure you aren’t making a rash decision,” he paused, before adding, “and as your friend, I’m trying to make sure you’re not being a kriffing idiot.”

“According to you and Rey, aren’t I always?” he laughs, but it echoes hollowly in his chest, and for a moment he allows himself to feel the weight of his decision - he would spend his life with a stranger. Would they grow used to each other? Would they hate each other? Or worst of all, would they mean nothing to each other? And then the counterbalance weighed in - the war, the shortages, and his mother. He turns to face Finn, “I know it’s the right decision.”

“How do you know?”

He only smiles, “Because Queen Organa wouldn’t have agreed to it otherwise.” And he hopes that’s true, hopes it’s enough.

“We should get going,” Finn says, but his words don’t register. Not really. Instead, Poe stares out the window, and nearly just out of sight, the very tip of the pavement of the landing strip peeked through, the end of an x-wing barely visible. It would be so easy. Too easy to sneak out of here, feet pounding down the pavement, slipping past every guard, until it was too late to stop him. His head against the rest of the pilot’s seat, thrum of the engine buzzing in his ears, and he would be gone. He would fly somewhere, anywhere he did not have to be responsible for the lives of so many people, somewhere he did not have to follow his duty — somewhere he just could take care of himself. Instead of everyone else.

Finn claps him on his shoulder, and he's ejected from his fantasy, “Hey, you okay?" And a small voice nags at the back of his head, after the war, after the war, after the war. Maybe things could be different - maybe he could be free. Things change. People too. As do commitments to treaties. Alliances fall and rise with only the flick of a royal’s finger, and why couldn’t his life too? “We can’t be late, it’s your wedding after all.”

Then why, he thought as he steeled himself, pushing himself to take one step after the other, why did it feel like my funeral?

~~~~

The march from his quarters to the hall was a lengthy one. One in which every doubt rears its unwelcome ugly head again, whatever seemingly committed front he had put up to Finn shattered in its wake. Now his eyes just looked for exits. Whatever instilled duty and steadiness he had long abandoned him as he left his room, now leaving only with traitorous thoughts and antsiness in his fingers. But eyes — eyes were watching him. Even now as he walked towards where the procession was waiting for his arrival, he felt the gazes of every guard he passed, every servant, every nobleman fall upon him with smiles and well wishes. And imagine what those smiles would be if they could hear his actual thoughts? How quickly those smiles would turn to scorn at his own selfishness? How fast those well wishes would turn to hissed sneers? The math was simple. A single hand to save many. A choice with only one right option. But why did he want the wrong one?

But why was it wrong? Why was it wrong to want to want to have a choice? Why was it so wrong to want to choose who to love?

It wasn’t wrong, he swallowed the lump in his throat as he spotted the procession standing at attention, the colors of the Resistance in full thrust, he just didn’t have a choice.

Or rather he did. His family and his planet or a chance at an unknowable future.

He gave Finn a nod, before facing the procession, striding forward to take his place. And he would choose his people - every time.

~~~

“Add more color to her lips,” The Empress of Shar ordered sharply, smoothing her tone over with a saccharine smile that only assured you that this servant would be fired by the end of day, “We want her husband to be completely enraptured by her — anything less will not be tolerated.” Or perhaps, it would be something worse than a simple dismissal.

Instead, your eyes remained concentrated on the delicate designs that had been drawn on the backs of your hand, patterns of vines and leaves intertwined around each other, bound in the same fate. These same hands that saw battle, bruised and battered and bloodied, were now dressed up in rings and bracelets, drawing eyes to the designs that adorned your skin. And while these tattoos were ephemeral, the passage of time scrubbing them from your hands, the ceremony they represented were not.

That knowledge weighed on you, heavier than the weight of your wedding clothes against your body. Your mother had you dressed before dawn had broken, and even your muscles nearly buckled under the weight, the clothes embroidered to the point of absurdity. And now in the sunlight, you could see it clearly, ornate designs painstakingly stitched into shimmering waves and complicated lattices upon the ivory fabric. You resisted the urge to finger the designs, knowing your mother would lose her mind if even a single bead was out of place.

The fingers of the servants tugged and pulled on the strands of your hair into an intricate braid, weaving ribbons, golden thread, and flowers into the complicated knots. You bit your tongue as they yanked particularly hard. Complaining would only incite the Empress’s wrath - and you didn’t wish that upon even your worst enemies.

The Empress of Shar left no enemies behind. And those she did, she left with their heads on a pike. It was in the name of duty. That's what she told you, anyway.

"Duty first, mercy second," and you learned quite quickly that mercy often didn't come. If ever. Mercy was reserved for only those situations where the Empress had something to gain — and was assured she had nothing to lose. And your wedding was one of them. It would have been all too simple to storm the planet of D’qar, beaten into submission after attack upon attack by their enemies. All it would have taken was one unit — the im’petis — the force users and their army would have been razed to the ground. But war is messy. War never ends. Even when all said and done, the seeds of revenge fester in the crevices and cracks of a broken kingdom, until blooming into swathes of rebellion. Too many warm bodies lost. Too much wasted time.

No, it was better - better to forge an alliance, quell any hint of impropriety, instead two planets become one kingdom. And D’qar and the Resistance gain the support of Shar’s vast resources, while Shar’s gains the aid of their technology. The only cost? Your freedom.

Or your hand in marriage. All the same to you.

You couldn’t run. You couldn’t escape. It was a choice of your family or your life.

And you choose your family. Always.

“Now, it is time for you to meet your husband,” The Empress waves the servants away, and as quickly as they came, they disappear through the double doors, “We will bring you out. The ceremony will be performed separately at first, and then you will be brought before each other as husband and wife,” her lips curl into a smile, “and darling, this must go well, for both our sakes.”

“Yes, I understand,” she raises a brow, “my Empress.”

She nods, “Your ladies in waiting will escort you to the procession, and then you and Poe will live on this planet for a time, before returning to Shar. I expect to hear from you, at the end of every month. Especially before your return to Shar."

You would spend a few months on D'qar, here, as the kingdom prepares for the transfer of power from Queen Organa to Prince Ben."

“Yes,” your throat tight, you give another nod, “I understand.”

“I imagine you will have little trouble. The prince is flighty - weak minded and eager, in both romantic and unromantic pursuits,” she stops in front of you, staring, and you wonder if she can see the weakness in your heart, every thought in your mind telling you to run now, to refuse. But she says nothing, only winding a curl framing your face around her finger, tugging on it harshly, a thread of pain running through your head, “but may I remind of the stakes of this. All of Shar is relying on you, as is your mother. Do not forget your place.”

She lets go and the curl bounces back into place, as she turns to leave, her hand pausing on the door handle, “And don’t forget,” she smiles at you warmly, which only makes your blood run colder, “you two fell in love on a diplomatic mission, and now are being wed,” a ploy - to garner support from the public - it was far better in the eyes of the simple folk to marry for love rather than power. Love sells after all, “So don’t forget to smile at your betrothed - you are in love with him after all.”

The door closes with a click. Yes. Love. Of course.

No tears well in your eyes nor do you scream. You sit there, staring at your luggage. You had been flown to D’qar night before last. The air was lighter here — less humid, somehow sweeter than the aridity on Shar. But now, it felt strangling. You rose, bracelets clanging against your wrists, lifting your skirt as you strided forward. You unzipped one of the bags, stuffed with gowns and dress shirts alike, the material heavy as your arm waded through the sea of silk, until your fingers found the false bottom to the bag. Your fingers snaked through the opening, until they closed around what you sought. You pulled the lightsaber from the bag, staring at the intricate design of the hilt, its weight a comfort in your hands. Only days ago you had spent cutting down Shar’s enemies, and now - you would do it again.

Only this time — there was a knock at the door, and you buried the saber as quickly as you could in the luggage — the deaths would not be on the battlefield, they would be in a palace.

~~~~

Poe’s stomach twisted. He did not like this.

A thousand eyes watched him atop the platform set up by both the people of D’qar and Shar alike. All of whom were watching him now as he sat - trying not to fidget in his throne. Drapes of colors of both kingdoms hung - some separately and others in unison, representing the merging of the two planets and of this union. And they hung all around the stage as well, a barrier from the public’s eyes - but only barely - as he could spot their eager eyes between the parting of the banners.

He did not like this at all.

A lone soul, his stomach lurching as he waited for the ceremony to begin. A million eyes on him, and not a soul he knew beside him. He wished Finn or Rey - someone could have joined him. He resisted the urge to squeeze his eyes shut - at least the Queen. But they were following Shar's traditions, down to the dotted line - part of the agreement.

A neutral expression would suffice instead of a smile, hoping he appeared to be an anxious groom rather than a miserable prince. The officiant would be joining him soon enough, but it did not make him feel any less lonely by himself. Usually, the men of the bride and groom would join the soon to be husband, but - his stomach twisted again - neither of them were around were they? The one thing he knew that he shared with you - the lack of a father, or perhaps the fleeting memory of one. More a ghost than anything now.

The corners of his eyes stinged, nails digging into his palms, the nagging thought in the back of his head wrenched to the forefront: what would he think of his son? Marrying a stranger he had never met. Would he be proud of his dedication to the kingdom he had lost his life for? Or would he want something more for him? Something like he and his mom had.

The chatter outside grew, and he readied himself for the officiant. But did it even matter? He was alone in the end - in life and in marriage.

“You look quite sad for a man on his wedding day,” his head snapped to attention, as he moved to get up, but his Queen waved him off, “It is your wedding day, you need not rise for me.”

“But don’t I always anyway, Your Majesty?” he gave a weak smile, rising to his feet as she sat, wrinkling her nose at his formality, but holding her tongue (knowing he would use her title anyway), “How many Sharians heads’ did you have to bite off to allow you to be here?”

The corner of her mouth twitched, “Only one. And I did not bite anyone’s head off - I only had to ask, and made it clear to the Empress I was only going to ask once to be at my son’s side during his wedding.”

Son, his throat tightened, swallowing the feelings that rose with that word - the word that wasn’t a word, but so much more - it was the very reason he had agreed to this. More than the scorn, the hatred he would engender, maybe even the crushing guilt of the lives lost - or maybe he couldn’t — but he knew only for certain: that he couldn’t bear the thought of his mother being disappointed in him.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” he says quietly, and she looks over, lips curled in a smile now.

She raises a brow, “No remarks to be made?”

Poe looked to the audience as all rose for the approaching officiant, and he knew he wouldn’t run - not because he couldn’t - but because he could live with marrying someone he didn’t know, but he couldn’t live without his home.

~~~

You didn’t want to have this ceremony. You liked the beauty of it all, the elegance, but only from an outsider’s perspective. Not when you were the one sitting like a shyyyo bird in a cage. You hated all the eyes on you — dressed in bright plumage to draw their gazes, as they watched you take part in this forced mating ritual.

Maker, it was your wedding day and all you want to do is take a nap. Especially as the officiant's droning voice led you through the vows, you felt your mind wane, though you kept the outer mask of a bride carefully stitched into your features. Even so, you doubted they could see your face through the thick veil of flowers tied around your head, the string digging into your skull. Even through the thick perfume of flowers, sweet and heady, you could smell the distant aroma of dinner - savory and ambrosial - stewing in pots and warming until this ceremony was over. You almost didn’t care if your stomach growled - after fourteen hours in this outfit and being poked and prodded and watched - you were ready to eat.

And it would be soon enough - as the vows came to an end, with only a word of affirmation needed from the groom and from you. A comlink hooked up to project sound throughout the building - as one was offered to you and most assuredly to him, as so everyone could hear you affirm your love for one another. And it occurred to you, this would be the first time you heard his voice. Curiosity edged in at the corners of your mind - what would his voice be like? Would it be gruff and low? Would it be smooth and dulcet? Would it be pompous and orotund?

It was one Sharian phrase, but you repeated the word over and over in your head - knowing that a second of hesitation (or Maker forbid a mispronunciation) would look suspicious.

You hear the officiant ask, “Hal’e turbi hayatak bihah?” Do you bind your life to hers?

“Nam 'uqad hayati,” Yes, I bind my life to hers. The Shar words rolled off his tongue with clumsy vowels and exaggerated consonants. You had no expectations, and yet his voice was different than you expected. It was neither gruff nor pompous, you supposed it could be smooth or dulcet, but it was still something more than that - and you realized, it was the conviction in his tone.

For Sharians, arranged marriages were second nature - a tried and true practice that made for marriages that would last a lifetime, most by choice, but others by obligation. You thought nothing of it - it was the same risk anyone took when marrying for love, and the same traps that anyone could fall into in a bad marriage. But for D’qar? Their people have married for love almost as long as they have existed. Even Prince Ben, whose hand had been promised to another, it was because he had fallen for another. So for the precious prince, it couldn’t have been easy to agree to this. And yet, he seemed sure - that it gave you pause - when was the last time you had been so sure of anything?

You weren’t even sure when you had agreed to this - though it wasn’t like you were given much of a choice. You were perfect after all - the perfect stand in for the princess, one that didn’t exist. There was never a choice that was yours after you agreed to join the Sharian Guard - and even that was a choice between certain death and indentured servitude.

“Hal’e turbi hayatak biha?”

You swallow the lump in your throat, all hope of running dissipating, as you feel the Empress’s gaze on you, “Nam 'uqad hayati.”

The crowd cheers in time with the band, the low notes a quiet boom in the background, as you and your groom rise from your chairs and are led down the steps of your individual stages — you by the Empress and him by his mother. Other instruments join in with each delicate step you take, building to an inevitable crescendo when the two of you finally see each other for the first time.

The first time.

Your throat is dry, and swallowing does nothing to soothe the very much throbbing heart tangled in your vocal cords. You realize that he’s before you when the Empress’s guiding hand stops, drifting away from your shoulder. Thousands of eyes pierce you from every side, your knees threatening to knock together, but you will them to be still. Princesses of Shar did not shake — but of course, you thought mournfully, you were not one.

“Please lift the veil and allow your eyes to meet your betrothed,” the officiant orders.

Gentle fingers part your flowered veil, lifting it over your head. You blink.

Brown. That’s the first thing you notice when you see them. They were a softer brown than expected. You had heard the rumors about the prince — about his thrill seeking as a pilot and his disregard for the rules (authorizing an attack the Queen had explicitly objected to). You expected more fire, more darkness, and it was there — but there was something more you couldn't place. His eyes blinked as he saw you too, his lips parting, a gentle gaze caressing your face, instead of raking down its sides. His brow only ruffled for a moment, before he smiled Lips pulled wide into a smile and that's when you remembered — oh yes. You were supposed to be in love.

You match him in time, chiseling your expression into a shy gaze, a smile tugging at your lips. And his hand found yours easily, his fingers intertwining with his to face the crowd. Even as your stomach stuck to the soles of your feet, why was it that, even with a thousand eyes piercing you, you couldn't help but stare at him?

~~~

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#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron imagines #star wars imagines #star wars fanfiction #poe dameron fanfiction

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another-aspiring-writer · 3 years

Text

A Little Kidnapping and Forced Dinner Date Never Hurt Anyone

Here’s my first piece. There’s not really any whump in it, it’s just here to introduce the characters and set things up.

Tag list: @ashintheairlikesnow

I don’t think i need to add any warnings for this. Please let me know though!

Enara sat with her back pressed against the rigid wood of her chair. She glared at the boy seated across from her. Theo stared at the table between them, making a point to not look at her.

That was fine. Enara didn’t really want to look at his annoyingly blue eyes right then. She glanced around the room, looking for anything she could use to get out. They seemed to be in a private room of a restaurant. At least, that was the only reason she could think of as to why they were stuck in chairs across a table from one another, their wrists and ankles cuffed to their chairs. She’d been awake for ten minutes, and she already hated that stupid table with it’s stupid white tablecloth and candles and a single rose in a vase at the center.

Enara knew it was Theo’s fault they were there. She had no evidence, but she knew. It was just like him to do something stupid that got them both caught. When they got out, Enara was going straight to Eli and telling him she would never go on a mission with Theo ever again.

First, she just had to figure out how they’d ended up here to begin with. She remembered driving into town for groceries and then stopping at McDonalds. It got a little fuzzy after that, but Enara thought she remembered someone grabbing her from behind. If only she’d had her knife on her, but of course this was the one time she left it under her seat in the truck. Things wasn’t supposed to get confrontational. Not yet. No one was supposed to know her team was in the area. If they did, it would defeat the purpose of the term ‘under cover.’

“Are you finished looking at me like I’m the devil incarnate?” Theo looked up at her, and how were eyes that blue even possible?

“No.”

“Is there a reason for this glare of yours? Or have you just decided to try out a new resting face. Because I don’t think that’s a very good look on you. Maybe smile more. You can think of all the ways you’re going to kill me if you want.”

“Shut up!” she snapped, desperately trying to cover the smile forming on her lips. She was supposed to be mad at him! “If it hadn’t been for you, we would have finished our supply run without getting caught!”

“Oh, so I’m the one who got us caught? Because I clearly remember that you were the one who insisted we stop to get you french fries.”

“I did not! That was you who wanted them!”

“I did want them, but only because you wouldn’t shut up about how good McDonald’s fries are,” he frowned, “They’re not, by the way.”

“And they’re at it again,” a tired voice said. Enara twisted as much as she could in her chair to see the speaker.

“Eli!” She shouted upon seeing his familiar face. “Thank god you found me! Can you come uncuff me? My wrists hurt.”

Zoe stepped into the doorway behind Eli. She brushed a strand of her hair out of her face with a sigh, “Can we knock them out again? They were so quiet when they were unconscious.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Theo pulled against the cuffs around his wrists. “You’re—? Knock us out again? What the fucking hell?”

Zoe leaned against the doorframe with a smirk. “You heard me right. You two were being so annoying with this little dance you’re doing. So, Eli and I decided to speed up the process. You’re welcome.”

“We’re not . . . what are you . . .” Enara couldn’t seem to form words as fire spread across her cheeks. She was probably scarlet, she thought bitterly. “There’s no dance going on between us,” She finally said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I couldn’t care less if I never saw him again.”

“What she said,” Theo added, his face the same shade of red as hers.

“Well, Eli and I disagree. The tension between you two is palpable.”

Eli smiled, “I’ll get dinner then.”

“Where the fuck does he think he’s going?” Enara shouted as he left the room. When she got her wrists out of those cuffs, she was going to murder all three of her teammates.

Zoe crossed to the table with a laugh. She pulled a lighter from her pocket, flicked it, and a flame appeared at the top. “He just said he’s getting dinner,” Zoe reached for the candles, lighting one, then the other. After they were lit, apparently to ‘set the mood,’ she put the lighter back into her pocket.

Maybe if she knocked the candles over, Enara thought, she could start a fire and make their death look like an accident. That could work. She glanced at Theo, trying to read his face. He looked like he was contemplating their deaths also. Maybe she would let him live, if he helped her kill the other two.

Eli swept back into the room, a tray stacked with food balanced in his hands. It smelled amazing, and when it was set before her, Enara considered letting them live.

It looked so delicious — pasta and chicken in a pesto sauce with two breadsticks on the side of the plate. Maybe she would let them live. She was probably just hungry, and things would be better once she had eaten. And gotten out of those cuffs.

“We’ll be back to let you out in about,” Eli glanced at his watch, “Oh, let’s make it three hours. That should give you plenty of time to sort everything out.”

He turned from the room, Zoe on his heels.

“Wait,” Enara cried, “Aren’t you going to uncuff us?”

“Oh, right!” Zoe turned back to them, quickly uncuffing Enara’s left hand and Theo’s right hand. “It’s probably going to be awkward eating with your nondominant hand, but this way you’ll hopefully have a harder time using your silverware as weapons against us.” Zoe left the room, barely paused at the door, “Enjoy your evening, lovebirds!”

Never mind, Enara thought, they were going to die.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, staring at their plates. Enara had to do a weird shuffle forward to get her chair to move so she could reach the table, where she promptly picked up her fork.

The food was amazing, and she almost laughed at the situation she was in. She was tied up by her teammates in who-knows-where because she needed to ‘confess her feelings for Theo’ (which was not happening), but hey, at least the food was good.

“This was not how I imagined I would be spending my Friday night,” Theo said, finally breaking the silence.

Enara laughed, “No, I suppose it’s not how anyone would imagine their Friday night going.”

Theo poked at his noodles with his fork, pushing one around his plate. He glanced up at her, opened his mouth to say something, then closed his mouth. What could he say to her?

“I’m sorry—” they both started at the same time.

“You go first,” Enara offered.

“You sure?” He waited for her to nod before starting. “I, um, well. I guess I don’t know what I want to say. You’re just so . . . infuriating. And I hate how annoying you can be, which is why I try to annoy you. And it’s so easy to get under your skin. And then you make this face hat I just—there, you’re making it now when I’m not even trying to do anything.”

“Why do you always have to be right about everything?” Enara asked. She could feel her face heating again. How could he do that to her without doing anything? “I can’t stand how you’re always proving how right you are about every single little thing. People can be wrong once in a while, but you never are, and it’s just so infuriating.”

“I do that because I’m trying to impress you. You’re so creative and talented and smart. You’re good a tactics and fighting and all the undercover work you do. And I always manage to mess up something and Eli or Zoe have to come in and save me. Sometimes I just want to show you I can do things. That I’m not completely useless.”

“Oh.” Enara hadn’t thought about that. She’d never considered the possibility he was trying to impress her. How could she be somebody anyone wanted to impress?

They both stared down at their plates, the silence stretched on and on. Enara chewed on her lip. Was she really about to tell him this?

“I think I’ve been trying to impress you too.” She whispered.

“What?”

She looked up at him, brown eyes meeting blue ones. For once, the hostility one of them always seemed to have in their gaze was not there. “I— I think I’ve been trying to impress you. You never seem affected by anything and I have never once seen you mess up on a job. I do all the time. I have more mess ups than fingers to count them.”

Theo laughed, “So we both know we mess up all the time and neither of us notices when the other one does. Good to know.”

“I will definitely be keeping a closer eye on you now,” Enara smiled. For once, it looked like a genuine smile to Theo, and he couldn’t help but smile back.

“So, can we agree to try to be more open to one another from now on?”

She shrugged, “Sure. And since we’re being open, I’m going to tell you that as soon as we get out of these cuffs, I will be murdering Eli and Zoe.”

“Don’t you worry, I will be helping with the murdering and disposal of all evidence.”

“Glad to know we’re on the same page.”

He nodded. “Agreed. And McDonald’s fries are actually pretty good,” he added, remembering their argument from earlier. How could that have that happened so recently? It felt like hours away. “I just wanted to annoy you earlier.”

“No they’re not. And you know it. There are so many better places to get fries.”

“Truce?” He asked.

“Fine, truce. But this does not mean that I’ve confessed my feelings for you,” she smirked, “I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

“Oh, definitely. No one can know Enara secretly has emotions. That would ruin everything.”

“Shut up,” she laughed.

“Okay, fine. But we still need to plan our payback.”

They leaned closer over the table as their plan took shape. They never expected their night to go this way, but neither were complaining now.

In the corner of the room, a security camera secretly feed their conversation to the room down the hall. Zoe leaned against a table, twirling a knife between her fingers as Eli leaned over the laptop on the table.

“Told ya they just needed a little alone time together,” Zoe said. She nudged Eli’s leg with her foot, “Look at them, thick as thieves and its only been forty five minutes.”

“Yeah, but now we have to deal with them working together to get back at us.”

Zoe waved her hand, “It’s fine, nothing we can’t handle. If we couldn’t get these two to work things out, then I don’t think we’d deserve to call ourselves spies.”

Eli looked up at her, annoyance written all over his face. He couldn’t argue with her, but he still didn’t like what Enara and Theo were planning. “When this backfires, it’s all your fault.”

“Whatever you say, boss. But for the next two hours and ten minutes we have nothing to worry about. Relax, everything’s going to be fine.”

Far across town, a woman laughed. She watched as the hazy image on her laptop flickered between the young couple cuffed at the table and the pair in the room down the hall. All four of them were sitting there under the assumption they had everything under control.

In reality, she was the one pulling the strings. And they didn’t know it yet, but she had them all right where she wanted them.

#Enara and Theo just won’t admit anything #Eli and Zoe got too annoyed and took matters into their own hands #Mari’s spy story #waking up restrained #kidnapping #kind of

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jawritter · 4 years

Text

Finally Yours

**Warnings!!** SMUTT!! LOL. ABO dynamics, Rutting Alpha, Near Farel Alpha, Heat-induced smut, rut induced smut. The implication of male masturbation (brief), Late bloomer reader, language, angst, I think that’s everything!!

A/N: This story was cross-posted from Wattpad! All mistakes are mine! Please don’t copy my stuff!! If you would like to be added to my tag list let me know!! Hope you all enjoy this little ABO Oneshot!

Pairing: Dean x Reader, Sam X Read (Platonic friendship)

Word Count: 3087

********Check out my masterlist!!!*******

MASTERLIST!!!

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Dean’s POV:

Dean pulled himself up from his lying position, sweat dripping from his body. Throwing the toy he’d been trying to use to find some relief across the room, aggravated at the damn thing for not work for him anymore. No matter what he did, he couldn’t find any relief. He’d been in a full rut now for more than a week and a half. He’d hired Omega’s to help him through ruts in the past, but no one really wanted to help an Alpha like him. One that was past his prime.

He was 41 years old and unmated, so he was surprised he’d lasted this long alone without going feral before. Now though, it seemed this rut would be the one to do him.

Running his hand down his face harshly before pulling down the rest of the scotch in the bottle he’d been drinking he picked up the phone with shaking hands and dialed Sam’s number. He needed to be locked down before he went completely feral. While he still could make the choice not to hurt anyone around him.

He thought when he met Y/N that she might be his mate, but she turned out to be beta. He’d heard all the stories of true mates, and soulmates, but he supposed it just wasn’t in the cards for him. Maybe his fate got thrown off when he was brought back from hell all those years ago, his omega given to someone else while he was gone.

He was hoping against all hope that Y/N would have been an omega, he’d loved her for a long time now, even if he was too afraid to say it. They just weren’t biologically compatible, and there was no changing that.

She was Bobby’s niece. He’d promised Bobby that he’d look after her after he was gone, and so far he’d kept to his word.

Now, who would watch over her? He was going to die down here, he knew it, this was it for him, he was going to go completely feral, and his brother was going to have to put him down. There would be no going back for him.

He always thought that he’d go down in a hunt, some vengeful spirit, Djinn, hell a vamp or a demon. He never thought he’d go down like this. Here it was though, no way out. He’d been trying to find a release for days now and nothing. His vision flashes red before him in increments as he dialed Sam’s number. He knew he didn’t’ have long. Growls falling from his chest involuntarily.

“Dean, Is it over, are you ready to go on a hunt?” Sam answered the phone hopefully, Dean suppressed the whine that wanted to escape him.

“Sammy, I need you to come to lock me down…”

Silence fell on the other end of the phone. Sams’ heart was racing. This couldn’t be. No there had to be another way. His brother couldn’t go feral and leave him.

“Dean, just hang in there, I’ll find you an Omega to help you.”

“It’s too late Sam, I don’t have much time before I lose me completely, If you bring an Omega in here I may hurt her.”

Silence fell on the other end of the phone again.

“I’m on my way to you Dean, just hang in there, we will figure this out.”

With that Sam hung up the phone, and Dean dropped it to his side, looking at the toy that lay on the floor across the room from him. His crotch throbbing painfully from his prostate to his knees, causing him to whimper loudly as he fisted himself harshly, getting up to and retrieve the useless toy to try again. He couldn’t give up, even though he was exhausted. Sam depended on him, he always had. He had to fight this.

Your POV:

You watched the desperation run across Sam’s face as he hung up the phone with Dean. Pressing the accelerator harder into the floorboard of Dean’s beloved Impala, flying toward the bunker toward his brother.

You had been with the Winchester brothers ever since your uncle Bobby passed away. He had been taking care of you after your parents were murdered by a demon all those years ago. You were only 8 at the time.

You, like Sam, were a beta. Dean was an Alpha, much like his father before him. Dean had become your most trusted friend and protector over the years that you’d spent with the brothers. You had just turned 25 years old and had been with the brothers since you were 17.

Even though you loved Sam like a brother, over the years you had developed quite a large bit of feelings for the elder Winchester. When you were 15 though, and all the other had already presented by that age, you were still a beta, which meant even after you turned 18 there would be no future for you and Dean. It just didn’t work out that way in this universe. He needed an Omega, there was very little you could do for him.

Still, the heart wants what the heart wants, and you just couldn’t shake the feels you always had for Dean, even after all these years. Even though yourself and Sam where beta Dean still made you leave the bunker, hotel, or whatever and wherever you were at when his ruts would start. He always said he didn’t want you to see him like that, but really you knew he just didn’t want you to watch the parade of Omega’s that he would hire or find at a local watering hole to help him through his ruts.

You and Sam had taken this opportunity to go and see Jody and the girls for this rut. When you didn’t hear from him you both assumed that everything was fine, and going like it usually did. You were about fifteen miles from the bunker when Sam’s phone rang, and you knew something must have been horribly wrong judging by Sam’s reaction. It made your heart seize up in your chest. You just couldn’t stand the thought of anything happening to Dean.

“Sam, what’s wrong?” you asked, watching him closely.

Sam swallowed heavily, looking at you briefly, then back at the road. It was no secret to Sam the way you felt about his older brother, even though he knew you tried to hide it and never would admit it to him.

You knew he knew as well, but you just couldn’t say it out loud. Saying how you feel out loud made it real, and then his rejection was real. You didn’t know if you could handle that.

“It’s Dean, he’s still in rut, he can’t come out of it. He wants me to tie him up, so I’m going to tie him up, and then try and find an Omega to help him. Y/N, he says he doesn’t have much time, he thinks he’s going feral…” Sam cut off his sentence unable to say anymore.

Your stomach twisted in you tightly before letting go. You felt like you wanted to curl up and vomit all at the same time. You couldn’t lose Dean. If he went feral, and you couldn’t help him, and Sam couldn’t find someone who could, you couldn’t think about the consequences.

In what felt like no time Sam landed at the bunker. Your stomach had been doing flips and cramping ever since Sam told you the situation. You didn’t know if it was nerves or the greasy dinner food you had eaten on your way here, but you didn’t have time to deal with being sick right now. So you pushed it down and ran after Sam down the stairs, and toward the hallway to Dean’s room.

Just as you rounded the corner with Sam outside of Dean’s door a smell hit you, something heady, and strong. Stronger than you’d ever smelt before. It was the smell of leather, and pine and gun powered; mixed with something that was unique and appealing. As soon as you smelt it your stomach knotted up on you like someone had twisted a white-hot poker in your gut, then twisted it. Sweat broke out over your skin in an instant.

Sam stopped in his tracks, skidding to a halt, and looking at you doubled over in pain. You couldn’t stop the scream that fell from your lips. Sam dropped to his knees next to you.

“Y/N, what’s wrong!”

Sam was starting to panic.

Tears were running down your face now. You were scared, you had never experienced anything like this. The overpowering scent was making it hard to concentrate. It filled your senses, making it all you could focus on. Filling every fiber of your being. “I don’t know Sam..”

Through the door of Dean’s room, a low growl eliminated. The sound made your whole body tremble. Sam watched you, realization showing in his eyes.

“Y/N, I know what’s wrong.. You are presenting. Your and Omega, my brother’s Omega. His rut has triggered your first heat.”

“That’s impossible Sam, I’m 25 years old!!”

“Late bloomer,” Sam shrugged.

Suddenly the door to Dean's room opened behind Sam. You heard the growling sound before you saw him. His eyes were almost black, sweat dripping from his body, it trembled as he leaned against the doorway, his muscles jerking under his skin at random. His eye were hooded as he stared at you, grows mixed with whimpers leaving his solid bear chest.

“Omega,” he whispered, and your body responded to his command immediately, slick coating your underwear in a gush. His scent hit you harder than you’d ever smelt anything in your life. Your body trembled on the floor before him, and your head bowing automatically without your control.

“Alpha..”

At his title, he purred low in his chest, more slick coating your underwear now, responding to Dean’s obvious approval. Your thought process was falling out of the window. The only thing you could focus on was the overwhelming need to have him.

Opening the door wider for you to come into his room, Dean stood and waited for you, as you stood to your feet and staggered your way toward the tall alpha.

Your alpha.

There was no doubt in your mind, Dean Winchester was your alpha, and you need each other now more than ever before.

Sam jumped up and grabbed your arm, causing Dean to snarl and step toward his brother. Sam threw his hands in the air in surrender.

“Wait, wait, Dean, you said on the phone that you were afraid you were going to hurt an Omega if I brought one here for you.”

“Not going to hurt my Omega Sam, now get out of the way and let her come to me.”

Reluctantly, Sam moved to the side and allowed you to move closer to him. As soon as you were in grabbing distance, Dean’s hot hands were on your body, pulling you close this chest before slamming the door.

“Y/N, are you sure you want this with me? Because I’m too far gone, I’m not going to be able to stop.”

His scent was surrounding you. You were panting as his hands roamed your body, Dean backing you towards his bed. His smell was all over the room, clouding your judgment, and making your head spin. All you could see what him, all you ever wanted was him, all you’d ever want again was him, nothing else would ever matter again.

“I need you, Dean. Please Alpha..”

The words weren’t even good and out of your mouth before his mouth was on yours in a bruising kiss. Tongue diving into your lips.

His tongue quickly dominated yours. His body pressed against yours. His rough calloused hands roaming your body. Picking you up harshly he carried you across the room, quickly laying you down on the bed. For the first time, you noticed that he was completely naked. His thick chest and shoulders heaving with heavy breaths. His muscular arms caged around you as he buried his face in your neck, breathing in deeply and whimpering. Trying to hold onto his own control that was slipping from him quickly.

Grabbing your shirt he ripped it from your body roughly. Buttons flying across the room, clinging as it hit random objects in his room. In one swift movement he had your pants undone, and your bra and panties down in one pull. All along with your boots and socks that went in what felt like a flash.

Sweat was prickling all over your skin. With every growl or whimper that left his lips your body produced more slick, that was now running down your legs.

Once he was satisfied that you were completely naked he looked at you, a deep growl escaping his lips. His own body trembling as he took you in. His thick length standing at attention, bobbing against the strain to reach its goal. A small bead of pre-come gathered at the tip. He was massive. You had heard about the size of alpha’s being impressive before, you had never been with an alpha though, and the sheer size of him was downright terrifying.

A shudder and a whimper ripped through you as another wave of cramps assaulted your body. Getting worse every time there was a fresh wave.

Dean laid his body back over you, Pressing his weight down on top of you. Your body soothed some by his touch and his closeness.

“Going to take care of you ‘mega.”

Letting him Nussle into your neck, he slipped two fingers into your aching core, curling them inside of you, sending shock waves of pleasure through your whole body.

“So beautiful Omega, so responsive.” Dean purred above you, licking the same spot on the junction of your neck and shoulder. You could feel the familiar coil begin to burn and tighten in your abdomen, just as you thought you couldn’t get any close to the edge your overheated body trembling and twitching, Dean added a third, thick finger into you and fell to pieces.

White spot speckled your vision and you moaned deeply something you had never done before. Dean worked you a little more gently until your body came down from it’s high.

When you opened your eyes again Dean was hovering over you, watching you. Light growls emanating from his chest.

“Alpha, I need you.”

The words barely above a whisper, but it was the permission he seemed to be waiting for. His eyes darkened even further if that were even possible. Fisting is thick harshly several times before lining himself up with your dripping entrance, he brought his lips to you in a bruising kiss as he sank himself deep inside of you until the tip of his throbbing length hit your cervix.

A deep breath pushed from your lungs involuntarily as your body adjusted to him. His thick arms caged around you. His scent everywhere, making you feel drunk. Your walls already fluttering around him. His body twitching above you, shivering with restraint as he tried to keep himself from pounding into you until your body had adjusted to his.

Reaching up he brushed your hair out of your face and brushed his lips across yours. Kissing you softly before the last of his humanity faded away, and he began to start moving slowly.

He moved slowly at first, purring above you. Then something seemed to snap in him, and a growl rumbled deep in him. He started pounding into you at a brutal pace. Your body responds to him immediately, taking every brutal thrust with ease. Which surprised even you.

Moans and purrs escaping both of your lips, as both of you quickly made your way toward the edge again. Without warning, he pulled himself out of you and flipped you over to stomach, pulling you up to your knees before ramming himself back into you. Picking up his pace even further.

His knot starting to swell and catching your entrance with every push and pull of his body against yours. You tried your best to meet his pace as he pounded into you. His knot swelled even further as his fingers wound their way around, finding your little bundle of nerves and circling harshly with his fingers. Plummeting you over the edge as his knot locked deep inside of you.

A deep growl fell from his throat as his teeth sank deep inside the skin of the junction of your neck and shoulder. The pain quickly erased into pleasure as the strongest orgasm you had ever experience washed over you. Momentarily your vision went black and your body jerked without your control.

Dean slowly withdrew his teeth from your neck, laying you down slowly. His knot still connecting your bodies, and his cum spilled deeply inside of you. He pulled you tight to his chest, purring and licking your fresh claiming mark. Healing it, and soothing it like only your Alpha could.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Dean finally asked after a long while with the two of you just laying there holding onto each other. Adjusting to your new reality, and the warm fuzzy feeling that seemed to be flowing from your Alpha to you.

“I’m okay, but what about you?” you say, remembering why you and Sam had rushed here in the first place. Turning your head so that you could look at him some.

His face looked calmer than you’d seen him in a long time. Tired even. His rut was finally gone. Peacefully purring as he leaned down to nuzzle your claiming mark. Licking it lightly before answering you.

“I’m fine sweetheart, I’m going to be just fine.”

For the first time in a long time, Dean believed what he was saying. It wasn’t forced, it wasn’t a lie, he really felt like now that he’d found his Omega, the woman he’d been in love with even when biology said there was no way was finally his. Everything else would work itself out. Right now his Omega, his love, laying here in his arms was all that mattered to him.

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Tag List:

@deanwanddamons @imabitch4jensen @rvgrsbrns

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