#I just came across a lot of fic summaries that followed similar rules | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ashes-writing · 2 years

Text

born to be my baby | stranger things ; s.harrington

tag list babes || req rules / fandoms+characters ; open asks|| send reqs || masterlist

CHAPTERS ;

For now, this one is it. The Stranger Things masterlist is here.

AUTHORS NOTES;

Le sigh. It's only fitting I name this after a Bon Jovi song, right? Anyway... This is the result of me, envisioning a reader who is like this outrageous hybrid of madonna vibes / jersey girl vibes / 80's glam rock groupie vibes + a v. feisty persona -aka the storm to Steve's ever-present calm. So yeah. I am lowkey tempted to follow the season with the events that happen but Idk just yet..

SUMMARY;

--You were born to be my baby And baby, I was made to be your man ... and sooner or later, it'll get there.

PAIRING;

Steve Harrington x Fem!reader (beyond outfits, huge 80's teased hair and huge personality / loudness as well as female organs, reader is kept vague as I can manage. reader inserts are kind of a learning curve.)

WARNINGS;

swearing, pining -lots of, huuuge bouts of internalization from both parties, reader is a smartass and a flirt, eventual filth maybe, maybe some angst in the future, who knows. I'm uh... kind of winging it as of right now. If this one is a hit, I'll sit down and plan more.

TAGLIST;

@allelitesmut

@aurumbelis

@aries-arcade

@cole22ann

@ebonybloom

@hcloangcls

@heyaitsklaudia

@hoeshii

@hotgirlsshareaccounts

@icequeen1371

@krys-orion

@letsbedragonstogether

@louderfortheback

@musichealsscars

@oflavenderandevie

@suits-and-smirks

@secretsicanthideanymore

@scoobiessnacks

@thechoiceslookgrimm

@untitledarea are the only ones present on my taglist. if you'd like to be added, please click the link above.

OTHER STUFF;

set in S3 and may or may not follow canon events with changes (no deaths because fuck writing deaths unless absolutely necessary) , idk yet. If you guys want me to throw her into the glorious shit show that is the Upside Down, i can uh.. I'll try? Otherwise, this one might end up being a mere slice of life thing like the rest, just like if you're interested in throwing reader into the insanity please lmk, Ig? Side note, reader is 18 and has cut ties with her family, so this is also a kind of 'found family' fic of sorts. She has her own place / spends her own money, etc. Similar to Steve, in a way?

You’re roaming Starcourt Mall with two hours until you have to clock in to work your makeup counter for the afternoon. You’ve just stepped out of a lingerie store when you happen to glance across, into Scoops Ahoy.

Carol Perkins is laughing nearby, nodding to the parlor. “The mighty have really fallen, huh?” she muses with a smug grin. Nicole nudges her and whispers something into her ear and the next thing you know, they’re both looking at you.

“I love those earrings.” Carol’s staring at your favorite pair of earrings. They’re these obnoxiously big leopard print hoops. And while you love them more than life itself, you’re almost ninety five percent certain that true to form, Carol’s compliment is an underhanded one, because she’s always been a bitch towards you.

“Oh my god, how’d you get your hair to do that?” Nicole nods to the way you have your hair teased and curled. You want to laugh, you want to speak up and say the name they called you until you were crying all through school until you finally moved away, but you don’t.

“Earrings came from a jewelry store in Atlantic City.” you answer, popping a bubble with your gum and then you shrug, “My hair is an entity all it’s own.”

“It’s pretty.” Nicole gives you one of her typical plastic fake grins and you almost want to laugh, but you don’t. It’s tempting but you’re not the girl you used to be and now, looking at the two of them only a few months after high school, you’re pretty sure you’ve done more with your life in just a few months than they’ll ever manage in the entirety of their lives. And it’s not bragging, it’s not egotistical, it’s fact. They have that narrow-minded and extremely stunted mentality about them still. And it’s just low hanging fruit for you, so why bother?

“She looks like one of those models. I mean, a less expensive version, but pretty.” Carol and her underhanded compliments. You laugh, gazing at her intently. “You’re okay for a frumpy midwestern housewife.” you say it with a shrug, hints of an apologetic smile. Nevermind the fact you know damn well she's 18 or 19, you just couldn't resist. All her taunts about your nose or your teeth or your body back in high school. You feel just a little bad about doing it, but you justify the comment as you being on the defensive, after all. She did just give you an underhanded compliment.

“I’m 19.” Carol looks panicked in this moment.

“You look 35. Sorry.” you cringe a little and you’re the one with the smug look when your jab settles over her. “Look, I’ve gotta get going. It was a nice chat though?” you smile, walking across the corridor of the mall backwards so that you’re facing them, your best honeyed smile playing at dark red lips. You turn with your back to them and roll your eyes, raising a hand to your throat and Robin Buckley, one of your old best friends sees you and laughs.

“Your friends are annoying you?” Robin asks as her laughter dies away.

“They’re not my friends, actually.” you give her a hurt look. “Do you not remember me, Robbie?”

She’s gaping and then laughing and then the two of you are hugging in the middle of the ice cream parlor. “Oh my god, ___? Wow.” Robin pulls away from the hug to look at you. You shake your head and laugh, “No, nope.. You, Robbie… Whew?” you fan yourself a little.

“Not even.” Robin shakes her head.

Steve Harrington steps out of the back with a vat of ice cream to go into the freezer and he locks eyes with you.

“Steve.”

“Yeah?”

“Are you gonna put the ice cream in the freezer or stand there all day?” Robin asks the question and rolls her eyes, nodding to him as she whispers quietly, “His father got him the job. I’m waiting on the day he quits.”

You’re distracted though, watching the way strands of hair fall down onto his forehead as he leans over the open back of the freezer to place in the new vat. Robin looks from him to you and she palms her forehead. “Some things never change.” she’s giving you that gentle and teasing laugh when she says it. You shrug. “Please. I grew out of the crush.” and yet, as the words leave your mouth, you’re at least fifty percent sure they’re a lie.

Robin knows it too and true to form, she calls you out on it. “Bullcrap. Total bullcrap. You’ve got that dopey look on your face right now. Lie to somebody who didn’t grow up two trailers down from you, ___.”

You pout. “I’m not lying!” you insist, laughing. “I’m not, okay?”

“When did you get back?” she asks after a few seconds.

You were staring at him again so you’re quick to tear your eyes off. Laughing softly as you twirl a strand of hair around your finger. “Around the end of May. I’ve just been busy settling in. I got my own place!” you’re grinning and clapping your hands.

“Wait..”

“I moved back by myself.” you smile, shrugging. “Graduated a year early. I mean, it didn’t matter, my parents weren’t around either way. I just wanted to hurry up and finally be on my own.” you laugh softly and Robin seems to relax just a little. “How is it, having your own place?”

You laugh. “It’s awesome.”

But it’s lonely too. To be fair, you’re not exactly a stranger to loneliness. Once you were old enough to do basic things for yourself, your parents were always in and out, never around. They didn’t care before but once you were able to fend for yourself, they cared even less.

“You’ve gotta come over sometime! It’ll be fun. I mean I’m in the midst of painting and stuff, but yeah.” you’re all smiles. Robin laughs and nods, raising a hand to tug at her hair. “Where is it?”

“Oh, you know that bar downtown? The owner is making the top two stories of the building into studio apartments.”

“The bar the cops are always at?” Robin looks concerned and you nod. “Yeah, I never go in through the bar. I go up the stairs in the back entrance.” you laugh again. “It’s not that bad, don’t freak out. I’m a big girl now. I carry that switchblade I always used to carry and I know how to fight, I mean.. C’mon.”

“I’ll have to come by.” Robin smiles, laughing at your excitement. She doesn’t blame you, honestly, and she’s really happy for you. More than anything, she’s happy you came back to Hawkins because you were one of her few friends.

“Ugh, we can have so many sleepovers!” you’re laughing, smiling bright at the thought.

Steve clears his throat, motioning Robin over.

“Who is she?” Steve nods to you. Staring hard. “She looks familiar.”

“Because she went to Hawkins High until 83. Then her family moved her to New Jersey.”

Steve’s still staring. Robin grumbles and shakes her head, laughing to herself. “She’s not your type. Trust me, Steve. Stick to your type.”

“You barely know me, Robin. How do you know who my type is?” Steve questions, gazing at her intently for a second or two before his eyes flit back to you and settle again. Robin’s not wrong, you’re not his type, but.. His type only hurts him. If they’re not hurting him, they’re only interested in whatever he has to offer them. And if it’s neither of those things, they’re only interested in sex without any attachments. And he’s slowly come to realize that he wants love. He wants something serious, he wants to feel stability just once in his life.

And the second he realized what he wanted, he stopped settling. He hasn’t been on a date in months at this point. And he tries to maintain that whole King Steve thing he had going for him but it just doesn’t seem to work anymore. Robin’s even got a scoreboard up behind the counter that she diligently marks whenever he makes an ass of himself, as if he needs or wants a reminder.

He’s just gotten so used to being the guy everyone wants him to be that it’s hard to find his footing lately.

So maybe Robin’s little statement about you not being his type does sting just a little. He’s staring at you again and Robin clears her throat. And maybe it’s because she’s finding empathy for him lately because they have to spend so much time together at work and work is easier when they at least get along just a little, maybe this is why she drags him over to you before he even has a chance to pull himself together.

“___. You remember Steve Harrington, right?” she asks as soon as you turn around.

Up close, holy shit. You’re even prettier somehow. He was not prepared for it, not at all. You’re giggling and you’ve got a strand of hair wound around your finger as you glance from Robin to Steve as you smile up at him after locking eyes with him. “Mhm. King Steve.” you almost want to kick yourself when you say it, but you’re quick to follow up with a soft little laugh and a shrug, “Or so I’ve heard.” and it’s almost as if you’re teasing just a little.

Steve’s cheeks are flushed and it’s the first time the shoe has ever been on the other foot for him. You giggle and it’s this cute little sound. Soft and dreamy almost. Then you turn your attention to Robin. “You and me, shitty chick flicks and house paint. Tonight around 9. You’re in, right? I’ll come pick you up.”

Robin’s grinning as she nods and laughs. “I’d love that. Hey, think you can make some of those brownies?” she’s fidgeting a little, giving you her best pleading look and you laugh. “Yeah. If my stove doesn’t try to burst into flames.”

“Yay!”

You and Robin hug and you air kiss her on both cheeks before pulling away. You turn and find yourself standing thisclose to Steve. You swallow hard and you try to ignore the way your breath is caught in your throat for just a second or two. Then you raise up, fluff his hair a little and wink. “I’ll see you around, king Steve.” you’re teasing again when you say it and Steve shuffles his feet as you pull away from him and slink out of the ice cream parlor, disappearing into the crowd outside.

Steve tugs at the red tie of the stupid uniform. “You’re friends with her?”

“Mhm. She lived close to me. We kind of grew up together. Everybody used to tell us we were like night and day though.”

Steve is still staring out the doors of Scoops, a hand raised and resting against the back of his head.

“She’s changed a lot.” Robin muses, shrugging.

“How?”

“Well, when she lived her back then, she had big glasses. What I used to call grandma sweaters.” Robin laughs. “Stop staring at the door, Steve. It’s not going to summon her back.”

“I wasn’t!”

“You were, dingus.”

“I was not, Robin.”

“You totally were. Do I need to add a tally to the board?”

Steve rolls his eyes at the comment.

But he wants to run into you just one more time. So when he goes out for his break around 6, he wanders around just a little. And he happens to catch sight of you behind one of the branded makeup counters in JcPenneys.

He wanders in before he can stop himself.

“Hey.”

You jump a little, turning to look at him as you’re restocking a row of foundations. “Hey! You scared me.”

“You work here?”

You nod. “For now. I uh.. One day, I want to open my own salon.” you laugh. “Anything you need? If you need a gift for your girlfriend of the week,” you gesture to the perfumes sitting on a 3 tier display on the back side of your circular counter, “I can help you find something?”

“I uh.. Don’t have a girlfriend.”

You pretend to be shocked, but admittedly, his confession does have you curious because back in high school, he had girls flocking to him.

“Sorry, I just thought...” you’re not even sure why you’re apologizing and you laugh softly about doing it. He chuckles, shrugging it off. “It’s by choice.”

“Oh. yeah, I get it. Me too.” you say it in a rush, words tumbling out on top of each other.

“Do you get breaks around here?” he asks, a hand dragging through his hair as soon as he’s taken the stupid hat off. You laugh and nod. “Just give me a second. I’m dying for a cigarette anyway.”

After stopping the manager on the floor to tell her you’re stepping out for a smoke while it’s slow, you wander back over to Steve. He smiles and the two of you wander out into the parking lot, lighting up your cigarettes as soon as you’re outside and sitting on the curb of the sidewalk. The breeze picks up a little and you glance up. “That storm is supposed to set in tonight. Just fucking great.” you grimace when you say it and Steve is staring at you while you’re staring ahead, eyes fixed on a row in the parking lot, lost in thought.

“You hate bad weather?” Steve asks, exhaling a shaky ring of smoke into the air as he tips his head back just a little. Enough that you’re focusing on the strong yet delicate line formed by the column of his neck.

“So much, oh my god. At least Robin will be there tonight.” you smile, laugh softly. You tear your eyes off and remind yourself that you’re not a kid anymore and this crush is one you absolutely cannot delve back into. You’re not his type and you never have been. It would never work.

“Yeah, that’s good.” Steve mutters. And he thinks about how he’ll be going back to that big and empty house all by himself. Where the quiet is too much and the walls are always just a second away from closing in. Where he feels the loneliest.

But he can’t tell anyone because who would even care?

You can sense just the slightest shift in his demeanor and you glance over. Studying him for a second or two, the way hair falls into his eye and the streetlamp overhead illuminates an outline of his strong facial features and you’re doing it again, you’re staring.

“It is. It won’t be so scary.” you admit, taking the last drag of your cigarette. You pull yourself to your feet and slip back on the heels you brought before your shift that you’ve been trying to break in. They’re killing your feet. But they were pretty and you could finally afford them.

You hold out a hand to him and he snickers, gazing at your hand first and then up at you. He grabs hold and lets you think you pulled him up and the two of you make your way back into the building just as the storm settles in over Hawkins.

“Great.” you mumble, flinching as thunder rolls noisily, only slightly quieted by the structure of the mall as you both roam through. After talking to Robin about where to meet up after your shifts end, you make your way back down to the department store and you get back to work.

And Robin grills Steve relentlessly about your little smoke break together. Steve has a few questions of his own and when he starts to ask them, Robin gapes at him. Then she’s quick to repeat what she told him earlier in their shift together.

“Oh no. Uh uh, no you don’t. Trust me, Steve… She’s not your type.”

It’s code for “You’re not going to break my best friend’s heart.” and on some level, Steve knows this. But the phrasing and the way she feels she has to be so protective over you just stings a little. But he knows it has everything to do with the guy he used to be.

Rather, the guy he used to pretend to be.

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #// lmk whether you want this to be slice of life or 'oh shit monsters are real'. i have ideas for both ways tbh.

62 notes · View notes

nomtterwhere · 3 years

Text

come back to me || marco peña x reader

a/n: now that we have an official announcement for kissing booth 3, i figured i’d finish this little fic that has been sitting in my drafts. i combined two requests because they were kind of similar and i had an idea that would work the both of them in. hope you guys like it!

request: @dystopianchic13 requested: “Going on a date and finding someone better after Elle!” and @mansaaay requested: “marco befriended a girl before the elle thirsting over marco incident, and the kissing booth, marco and the girl sorta start talking again?”

summary: when marco starts at your school, the two of you quickly become friends. but when elle gets involved, your relationship takes a turn for the worse...

word count: 4.4k

marco valentin peña.

newest school heartthrob, with good reason, and very quickly set to possibly be the most popular guy in school. and yet, here he was sitting and eating lunch with you and your friends.

it’s not that you weren’t well liked or anything, but you and your friend group were nowhere near the status of the omgs. and considering the way everyone talked about him from the moment he stepped into the building, you had assumed that would be the direction he would flock.

but alas, on his first day at this school, he ended up standing at your table, tray of food in hand. your friend nudged you until you looked up from your lunch and saw him standing there. up until this point you had only heard of marco. you hadn’t shared any classes with him earlier in the day but throughout all of them you could hear bits and pieces of conversation about how attractive this guy was. and now that he was standing in front of you, those comments didn’t do him enough justice.

he was wearing the same uniform everyone else was, but he had rolled his sleeves up so they just passed his elbows, drawing your attention almost immediately to his forearms. trailing your eyes up his body, your eyes followed along his broad shoulders and up the length of his neck, glancing at his strong jawline.

you made eye contact with him, your breath quite literally leaving your body. his brown eyes were kind and inviting, friendly even, as if you hadn’t just been shamelessly checking him out.

“um, hi.” you say.

he smiles at you, nods to the empty seat across from you. “hey, i was wondering if that seat was taken.”

oh god, his voice.

you try and ignore the pinch that quinn delivers to your thigh underneath the table and shake your head. “no. um, it’s all yours.”

he gives you a full smile now, his perfect teeth on full display and you can’t help but smile back. he takes a seat, setting his bag down beside him.

your friend grant sits at his right side and places a hand on his shoulder. “you’re marco, right?”

marco nods.

grant squints his eyes at him and shakes his head, looking across the table at you and quinn. “unbelievable.”

he turns back to marco. “do me a favor and stay away from my girlfriend.”

“grant!” the girlfriend in question, jen, exclaims and gives him a look before turning to marco. “excuse him, he’s an idiot.”

grant releases marco with a laugh and takes a bite of his sandwich. “i was kidding! mostly.” he mumbles the last word through a full mouth.

marco laughs, waving it off. “it’s okay. trust me, i’m not here to steal anyone’s girlfriend.”

you take a drink from your water bottle, laughing at your friends. “yeah, this may have not been the prime table for you to choose to sit at.”

marco shrugs, giving you a half smile. “i like it. you guys seem very...”

“loud?” quinn finishes as one of the boys down the table shrieks as someone else pours water down his shirt. “disruptive? unfiltered?” she aims that last word at grant, who’s too infatuated with his sandwich to notice.

marco laughs again and you smile. he seems very open, you note. willing to go with anything.

“i was gonna say entertaining.” he shrugs. “but those work too.”

you and your friends quickly introduce yourselves and the rest of the lunch period resumes like it always would have.

marco quickly slips into the natural system of you and your friends, not even a little bit fazed when the entire cafeteria turned to see the commotion that you had caused when someone flipped their entire lunch tray off the table. he simply laughed along with you guys, giving himself into the moment. too soon, lunch is over and you and your friends are cleaning up your table and throwing out the trash. faintly, you hear quinn arguing with the boys, telling them you were the ones to make the mess so of course you have to clean it up! as you came back to your table from returning your tray.

marco looks at you when you return and stands. “hey, could you tell me where mr. peterson’s room is? i would have asked one of them but...” the both of you turn your heads to where quinn is supervising the boys picking up after themselves and the girls sneak off as best as they can before quinn gets to them as well. “...they seem a bit busy.”

you laugh, picking up your backpack. “just another day with this bunch, trust me. but lucky for you, i also have ap physics next.”

the bell rings and you turn to quinn, but she hasn’t let up on the boys so you just let her be. being late on the first day isn’t that big of a deal anyway.

you lead marco to the physics room, all eyes on the two of you as soon as you step into the room. you almost forgot that you had spent the entirety of lunch with the school’s newest crush up until this very moment. you could feel the glares directed at you radiating throughout the room and watched as heads of those who hadn’t seen him yet perk up as he entered.

“is it just me, or is everyone looking at us?” marco had bent down and was whispering in your ear.

you decide not to inflate his ego anymore and shake your head. “it’s just you.”

you take a seat at one of the lab tables, marco sitting beside you. you zone out as the teacher speaks, it was the first day so it was mainly rules and the expectations for the year.

so you don’t pay much attention until one sentence catches your ear:

“the person you’re sitting with will be your lab partner for the rest of the year.”

you and marco turn to look at each other and he grins.

“hi, partner.” he says, quietly since mr. peterson is still speaking.

“you should know, i have been yelled at in every lab class i’ve ever taken because i always forget the directions.” you warn him.

“well this should be fun. so have i.” he winks and you both laugh quietly.

the period passes slowly as most do on the first day. the bell rings but everyone stays in their seats since lab was next anyway.

you go over lab rules and discuss the first lab you will be doing next time and you raise your brows as he hands out the instruction sheet.

“yikes, this looks like a lot of steps.” you say to marco and he shakes his head.

“mm, yeah. next lab class should be fun, don’t you think?” he gives you a knowing look.

you can’t help but laugh at the thought of you in a lab class together, but the laughter is also for the fact that you found marco.

never in your life had you met someone who was so ready to quickly adapt and go with the flow. you had had no doubt that your lunch table would be enough to scare him off but he had already decided he would be coming back tomorrow. and so, that became the beginning of your friendship and many screwed up labs. marco inserted himself nicely into your friend group and the two of you especially started becoming really close. that was, until one fateful day.

“...hot.” is the only thing you hear over the loudspeaker in the middle of your english class and everyone around you looks up in confusion. “he’s just a guy...woah!”

you quickly recognize the voice as elle evans and also realize that she probably doesn’t know she’s being broadcast to the entire school right now.

“the omgs were right, this guy is a snack!” you hear her say and everyone in your classroom laughs, the teacher’s eyebrows raised.

you wince on her behalf. you’re not friends, but still. that’s embarrassing for anyone. everyone gathers pretty quickly that’s she’s talking about marco and you internally roll your eyes. obviously you know marco’s hot, you have eyes. but to have another girl describe just how hot he is over the loudspeaker during class makes you bubble over with annoyance.

and besides, doesn’t she have a boyfriend?

eventually, her tirade stops and your teacher tries to calm the class down so you can get back to work. but even as you leave your class, everyone is still taking about it and elle has been given the new nickname get it girl.

“ah, there he is, our very own full course meal. or was he the dessert?” grant asks as marco sits at the table.

“no, grant. he’s a snack, remember?” quinn joins in.

“how about all of the above?” you say and the table erupts into laughter.

marco shakes his head. “alright, alright. enough jokes.”

you get a deadpanned look on your face. “oh, no. we’re dead serious marco. you’re just that hot.”

grant wraps an arm over his shoulders and starts making kissy faces at marco which he laughs at and shrugs off.

“seriously, though. where does elle get off saying that kind of shit? doesn’t she have a boyfriend?” jen asks.

“she does, indeed.” you point a fry in her direction before popping it into your mouth.

“huh,” marco says as he takes a sip of his water.

“what’s that’s supposed to mean?” you ask him.

“nothing.” he sets down his bottle. “i just didn’t know she had a boyfriend is all.”

you give him a wary look but decide to drop it for now, hoping that elle evans was behind you. and she was, until...

“you what?”

marco sighs, sinking his pool shot before standing up straight.

the two of you were at the arcade, making the most of your last day of the weekend. the arcade was mainly empty except for a mother and her two kids who turned to look at you when you shouted. you gave her an apologetic look before turning your attention back to marco.

“i felt bad. lee can’t do the competition and she really wants to enter. what was i supposed to say, no?” marco says in response.

apparently elle and lee were supposed to enter a dance dance mania competition together, but since lee sprained his ankle, elle needed a replacement partner.

you don’t say anything, simply watching as he misses his next shot.

he looks up at you when he realizes you aren’t going to respond. “why do you even care if i help her?”

you feel your face get warm but you ignore it as best as you could, setting up for your own shot. it was your first shot of the game considering you hadn’t realized he was apparently a pro at pool.

“i don’t! its just that we have a take home lab due in two weeks and i don’t want to be stuck doing it myself cause you’re off dancing with get it girl.”

you call her by her nickname solely to spite him. why did you care so much? who knows, but you enjoyed seeing marco roll his eyes at the mention of the name.

“you won’t. and hey, relax.” he says.

you shoot him a glare. “don’t tell me to relax when you’re abandoning me.”

he chuckles. “no, relax.” he nods to the pool cue in your hand which you have in a death grip.

“oh.” you didn’t realize you had been taking out your anger on the poor stick. you take a deep breath, relaxing your grip and line up your shot.

“here.” marco walks over to you, disappearing from your vision as he stands behind you.

you quietly take a sharp intake of breath as you feel his body behind yours, his hands coming around you to lightly rest on the cue, shifting it slightly.

“what are you doing?” you ask, quietly but make no move to exit his embrace.

“considering i’m three shots away from winning and you haven’t made a single one yet, i figured i could help you out a little.” he says and you can hear the smile in his voice.

“oh, shut up.” you mumble, but you don’t put any power behind your words.

marco adjusts your grip on the pool cue, lightly setting his hands over yours. his chest presses against your back and you can feel the heat radiating from his body to yours. your stomach clenches as his hand grazes yours ever so gently as he settles in. he leans forward a bit as he helps you line up your shot and you try your hardest to focus on the task at hand. but his lips are right by your ear so you feel his breath as he whispers:

“and shoot.”

you tap the ball with your pool cue, watching as your striped 10 ball rolls into the left corner pocket.

marco lifts his arms in victory and you found yourself saddened by the sudden loss of his body against yours.

“there it is!” he exclaims. “alright, next shot is all you.”

you groan playfully, trying to ignore the butterflies that have arisen in your stomach. you spend the rest of your day in the arcade before calling it quits and heading home to finish homework.

when you get home, you mull over what marco dancing with elle in the ddm competition means. you try to remind yourself that marco said things weren’t going to change now that he was helping out elle, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t going to turn out like he hoped.

and you were right.

ever since they started rehearsals, you have seen less and less of marco. he even eats lunch with her, leaving his spot across from you vacant. you saw him during ap physics but that was the only time you talked.

and as for your lab, guess who had spent the past two weeks working on it herself? everytime you called him to get him to work with you, it was always “sorry, elle and i have a practice” or “elle needs me right now.” it was as if your friendship meant nothing to him.

“alright guys, labs are due friday. i want them on my desk by the beginning of the lab period.” mr. peterson says at the end of lab on tuesday.

“oh shit, i totally forgot about that.” marco says, turning to you. “how’s—”

“it’s fine. i’m almost finished.” you cut him off, packing away your stuff without making eye contact.

“okay...” he says this with a twinge of confusion in his voice and you can feel the anger inside of you. “there’s nothing i can do?”

“i don’t know marco, why don’t you ask my dozens of phone calls and text messages i’ve sent you regarding the lab?” you lock eyes with him, angry now. “does i won’t let you do this lab alone ring a bell? or have you forgotten about that too?”

he sighs. “y/n, you know i’ve been busy. and i’m sorry. i really didn’t mean for you to do all of the work.”

your teacher clears his throat. “mr. peña, ms. y/l/n. don’t you have a class to get to?”

you look up with a smile. “yes, mr. peterson, sorry. have a good day.”

you leave the classroom without another look at marco.

and so the continuing weeks followed as such, marco spending all of his time with elle and the two of you only speaking when you had class together. there were times you tried to reach out, to be a peacemaker, but he always responded to your requests to hang out with sorry, i’m busy. next time?

to no one’s surprise, there was never a next time.

and as much as you were mad at marco for essentially ignoring your presence ever since he started dancing with elle, you couldn’t help but tune in to the competition since it was being streamed live.

“give me a second!” you call to your mom as you sit in front of your laptop and watch as elle and marco are called to the stage.

you sit through the performance, unable to help the proud feeling spreading through your body. you and marco may not have been as good of friends anymore, but you were still happy to see him thrive. even if it was a result of ignoring you for so long. your proud smile quickly drops from your face though, as you watch elle kiss marco. your eyebrows raise and you inhale a sharp intake of breath when she wraps and arm around him and pulls him closer.

you shut your laptop quickly, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. you press your hands against your eyes, refusing to let the tears fall. what would they be falling for? some guy that hadn’t shown interest in you and then abandoned you when you needed help? you were better than that.

so you left it alone. you didn’t know what was going on with elle and marco and it wasn’t any of your business. you had put it past you. you and marco were still friendly, but after the kiss with elle, he seemed even more distant than usual. and you couldn’t figure out why until the night of the fundraiser.

you were walking through the carnival, looking at different booths with jen when elle ran past us, accidentally bumping into you. she turned when she noticed it was you who she had run into and you notice her red rimmed eyes.

“oh my gosh, are you okay?” you may not have been her biggest fan, but you also weren’t a bitch. it was obvious she had been crying.

“i’m really sorry. just talk to him, okay? please.” was all she said before leaving the carnival.

“what was that about?” jen asks me.

“i’m not sure...” you say, looking after her retreating figure.

but it didn’t take long to figure out because as we walked further into the booths, we saw marco walking away from the kissing booth. with his head slightly bowed and his hands in his pockets, it was obvious he was upset about something.

you and liz exchanged a look and she raised her eyebrow at you, nodding over in his direction.

“well? go talk to him!” she shoved you forward a little bit.

you sighed, knowing that you should. you assumed that’s what elle had been talking about. so you approached him slowly, just as he reached the outside of the kissing booth crow.

“hey.”

he looked up when he heard your voice, an almost grateful look on his face, and gave you a small smile. “hey.”

“can we talk?” you asked him and he broke into a relieved smile.

“yeah, i’d like that.”

you followed him to the outskirts of the carnival where the two of you sat on a bench right outside the exit. you sat first, crossing your legs as you faced the opposite side of the bench and patted the space beside you.

marco chucked and sat down, turning to face you as well. he drummed his fingers on the back of the bench, and you noticed his knee was bouncing. he was nervous. because of this you thought you would have to guide him into conversation, but to your surprise he began with no hesitation.

“i know i owe you an apology. ditching you like that because of my stupid crush on elle was not cool, especially after promising i wouldn’t let you do all the work yourself.” you winced at that, hoping it wasn’t too visible. you had known that marco liked elle, obviously, but to hear him say it aloud still hurt. “i’m so sorry. and not only about the lab but about our friendship. you were the first people that was actually real to me when i came here and you were my best friend. i let elle get in the way of that and i feel terrible.”

he fidgeted a bit in his seat. “i know i haven’t acted like it but...i miss you. a lot. i miss our terrible labs and arcade days and having lunch with you. i miss all of it. and i know it’s my fault that none of that has been happening. i really just...want to be friends again.” he looked up at you with sad eyes and you could tell he meant it.

and as much as you appreciated his apology and his honesty, you couldn’t just let him off the hook. “you really hurt me, marco. i get it, okay? crushes can make you do crazy things, but i told you that she had a boyfriend. you knew that and you still decided that she was worth risking our friendship over. while you were off dancing with elle, i was losing my best friend.”

“i know. and i’m so sorry. you’re right, i should’ve backed off the minute you told me that. but i really thought...” his voice trailed off and he shook his head. “but it’s not. and that’s done okay? she’s made it pretty clear i’m not the one she wants. and i hate that it took this for us to finally talk again, but i really just want to get back to the way we were.”

you smiled. “i want that too. and of course i’m upset but i can’t say i wouldn’t have jumped at an opportunity to hang out with someone i liked as well.”

“so?” he looked hopeful.

you laughed and stood. “so...marco valentin peña, you are officially forgiven.”

he smiled and stood up as well, pulling you into a hug. wrapping your arms around his waist, you squeezed him tightly as he did the same to you. you stayed like that for a moment before heading back into the fair. and just like that, the two of you were good again.

over the next few weeks, you and marco started hanging out again, he returned to your lunch table, and of course the two of you screwed up more labs than you could count. and over those few weeks, marco was getting over elle and he couldn’t help but think about you. the way you said his name, how you grabbed onto him whenever you were excited about something, your kind heart, and he especially couldn’t stop thinking about when you hugged him.

due to his height, his whole body ended to engulf you hen the two of you hugged, but you loved it. and you were an affectionate hugger. he wished he was the only one who received your hugs became they always made him feel so comfortable and at home. and when you let go, there have been more than a few times when he would pull you back in saying just a little longer. and you would laugh and snuggle yourself further into his chest. and there was nothing better than that feeling.

he really liked you. and he couldn’t believe he had wasted all that time on someone already in a relationship when you were right in front of him. so one day when you were at his house studying for your upcoming physics test, he decided to short his shot. sitting beside you at the dining table, he put his notebook down and turned his attention to you.

“hey, so y/n.” he said, his voice shaking a bit.

“mm?” you said, not looking up from the flash cards you were making.

“i, uh–” he cleared his throat. “i had a question.”

“shoot.” you said, highlighting the important information in your notes that you would copy onto your flash cards.

“um, do you–i mean, would want to go out with me? like, on a date?”

you paused your highlighting and slowly turned to face him. “i thought your question was going to be about physics...”

marco let out a short laugh. “yeah, well.” he just shrugged. when you didn’t say anything else, he got nervous. “is that a no? did i just make this weird? i definitely did, didn’t i?”

now it was your turn to laugh. “no, no, it’s fine. um, i would like to go on a date with you, really.” his face lights up but then dims again at your next words. “i just–i just don’t want to be your rebound from elle.”

“i can promise you right now, that is far from what you are. elle is in the past, i promise. i really like you, and i’ve just been too much of an idiot to see it. but you are not a rebound, y/n.”

“really?” he nodded. “because i really like you, marco. like, a lot.” you laugh and so does he.

he reached across the table and took your hand in his. “well that’s good to know.”

you watched as your hands intertwined, his hand squeezing yours lightly and you smiled. you looked back up at him.

“so yes, i would love to go out with you.” you said with a grin.

“perfect.” he whispered, leaning in.

you smiled and turned your head at the last moment, so that his lips touched your cheek. you felt his lips curve into a smile against your skin and he kissed your cheek again.

“physics first.” you said when he pulled away. “we do still have a test you know.”

you slid your finished flash cards over to him and he bit his lip, shaking his head. he took them, glancing over at you again.

“since when are you all about the work?” he asked.

“since we’ve almost failed every single one of our labs and need a good grade on this test.” you said teasingly.

“touché.” marco said, tuning back to his work.

but as soon as that last definition was memorized, marco took you by the hand, leading you to the doorway from the kitchen to the living room where a mistletoe hung. the peñas had decorated the house for christmas together but you could guarantee that this one had been marco’s idea.

you could only smile as he cupped your face in his hands, leaning down to meet your lips. you stop on your tiptoes to meet him in the middle and when your lips touched you felt the butterflies burst in your stomach. this boy you’ve had a crush on liked you back and now you were kissing him under the mistletoe. the thought made you smile and marco noticed.

“what’s got you so smiley?” he murmurs against your lips.

“marco peña is kissing me.” you said in response and pressed another kiss to his lips. “what’s not to smile about?”

a/n: idk about y’all but the best friendships for me came out of science labs, they are so funny for some reason.

taglist: @devilishdior @write-from-the-heart @minnyvees @lover1307 @sonnyalice @caro1115 @psg-for-life @mansaaay @thebookwormlife

#marco peña #the kissing booth 2 #marco peña x reader #marco peña imagine #marco peña x y/n #taylor zakhar perez #marco x reader #marco pena #marco pena x reader #marco pena imagine #the kissing booth

418 notes · View notes

possiamo-andare · 3 years

Text

Just You (1)

JJ x Reader x Rafe (love triangle)

MASTERLIST

word count: 3.1k

summary: A new girl moves to OBX and a love triangle ensues. Your usual yearning, fluff writing :)

a/n: gosh, it has been too long. university has me swamped but since it’s the holiday break, i will try and update as much as i can. as of rn my other fic, sweeter, is on hold, while i try to write more and get back into the groove of things :) love y’all <3

Many people do not care to know the difference between new and old money. To the working class, new and old money were relatively the same. To some extent, that was true. People that had either new or old money were rich nonetheless but when you grew up rich like Rafe Cameron did, the difference was all that mattered.

The main difference was how the money was procured. Old money was passed down. No one from old money had to work since they were born rich. Their manners were taught at a young age. New money meant that they had worked for what they had. At some point, they were not rich and now they were. They were not as defined and they had to be taught, at an older age, how to act. Rafe’s mother used to say you could see who was from old and new money from their ties. If it was a man, their ties would be neutral colours, nothing flashy. People from new money usually had something to prove and so they would buy extravagant things. For women, it was their heels. Women from old money had small heels that were polished as well. Women from new money had tall heels and they had never learned that they should polish the heel along with the shoe.

Growing up as someone from old money, Rafe had normalized that there was a divide between the rich people in Figure 8. Of course, there was a divide between the Pogues and the Kooks but that divide was course and palpable. This divide was subdued and rarely ever spoken about. Kooks that came from old money lived on the west side of Figure 8 while the Kooks from new money resided on the east. This unspoken rule proved to be useful since the two groups of rich snobs never liked to speak to each other anyways. This rule had been in place years before Rafe was even born and he had thought it would still be there even after he died. That is, until Y/N moved in down the street.

It was at the beginning of June when she moved in. The first sign that things would end terribly was when her family pulled into the parking lot. Her mother drove a beat up blue Camaro while her father trailed behind in a black motorcycle. Most people that lived on the west side of the island didn’t have flashy cars but they were well maintained and not so loud. Everyone knew they were from new money before they even exited their cars. And when they did, it was confirmed these people had just become wealthy.

Rafe’s family, like most on the street, watched from their windows as a tall, burly man with a long black beard and sunglasses opened the truck of his wife’s car and carried two large bags in the door. His two sons, both similar in size and features, followed after him. They carried two pink suitcases inside as the man’s daughter and wife stayed outside to open their garage.

Rafe’s eyes glanced over their house. It was one of the bigger houses on the block but it looked more like a huge cottage than anything else. His mind went to the thought of hippies invading their neighbourhood. He gulped. If they were some type of laid back, motorcycling hippies, he’d go crazy for sure. He knew Sarah would love them though; she always complained about how boring their neighbourhood was. But boring meant normal and that’s what Rafe wanted.

As his mother gossiped on the phone, Rafe watched the mother and the daughter laugh together. The mother looked like a hippie. Her hair was tied up on the top of her head and it had clearly not been brushed. She wore a light green skirt that reached to her ankles which then led to the flip flops that she wore. A white t-shirt was tucked into her skirt and she had big bracelets of all different colours dangling off her wrists. The daughter’s style was similar to her mother’s. She wore pink bootcut jeans and a white crop top, black chunky platform boots pulling the look together. Her hair was different from her mothers and was let down to blow in the breeze. They all looked like polar opposites from everyone else living in Figure 8.

At first, Rafe could care less about the girl or her family across the street. Granted, he would religiously watch through the window for when she would come outside to ride her bike around the neighbourhood with her brothers, and yes, he would sometimes wait until she was outside for him to take out the trash but he didn’t like her. If anything, it was the opposite. Rafe was too good for her. At least, that’s what he led himself to believe.

The first time he spoke to her was two weeks after she moved in. His mother had told him to stay away from Y/N’s family and Rafe had done an amazing job at doing so. Unfortunately, that all stopped when he had to pick Sarah up from school. She had thrown up in the middle of one of her classes and since both his mother and father were at work, the responsibility was on Rafe to pick Sarah up and make sure she was okay. Although reluctant to go back to his old highschool, Rafe knew he’d be in trouble if he was late in picking up his sister. When he entered the school's administration office, he finally came face to face with the girl he had been watching for two weeks now. Except, her back was turned to him as she argued with the secretary.

“That’s what you call a vegetarian dish?” Y/N raised her voice, not particularly enjoying being ignored by the school administration. When she first had come to this school, she had checked off on her form that she needed vegetarian dishes for lunch. Now, everyday since she had come, they had served her horribly chopped up lettuce with vinegar.

“Miss -” Ms. Buzden said, placing her phone on hold. It was the student’s lunch break so she usually called her sister during this time but Y/N was keeping her from doing so.

“Y/N.” Y/N smiled, finally happy she had caught the woman’s attention.

Ms. Buzden rolled her eyes, sighing deeply. “Y/N, dear, if you have a problem with lunch, please take it up with the lunch ladies.”

Y/N sighed, leaning against the secretary’s desk. “I tried to, Beth, but she told me to come here. I will not be ignored.”

Rafe was almost as surprised as Ms. Buzden was when Y/N used her first name. As he stood behind Y/N, waiting for his turn to ask where Sarah was so he could sign her out, he watched in slight amusement at the fact she was nonchalantly complaining to the secretary.

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you dear.” Ms. Buzden forced a smile, finally looking over Y/N’s shoulder to Rafe. “Rafe, sweetie, you’re here to sign out Sarah?”

Rafe hesitated for a moment, knowing Y/N’s eyes were on his. He felt as if an imaginary spotlight had shown on him for a solo and he had forgotten the words. His eyes glanced toward Y/N for a moment but it did not help his stage fright. Her beautiful eyes were squinting in his direction and for a moment he thought he would faint underneath her stare. His eyes quickly returned to the secretary’s and nodded quickly. In an embarrassing turn of events, Y/N spoke before Rafe did.

“Hey, I know you.” Y/N’s bracelets clang together as she lifts her hand up and points at Rafe. “You’re my neighbour. You’re always watching me through your window.”

As the secretary busies herself with printing the paperwork, Rafe busies himself by stuttering and gasping for breath at the accusation she had just posed. In an attempt to save himself from anymore embarrassment, Rafe tries and fails at coming up with a good excuse. Instead, he denies the accusation entirely.

“I do not watch you.” Rafe stubbornly blubbers out. He’s trying not to seem so embarrassed but she’s caught him so off guard that there’s nothing else he can do.

Y/N snickers, watching the poor boy stumble on every word. For someone older than her, he was not very mature. “No, you’re right. Watching would imply a causal aspect to the activity. More like you stalk me.”

This time, Rafe boiled over with anger. How dare this girl accuse him of stalking her? Rafe did not chase after any girl, no matter how attractive she was. “That’s a bit arrogant, isn’t it? To think everyone’s eyes are on you?”

Y/N continued to smile, unbothered by Rafe’s obvious rudeness. She shrugs, looking back to the secretary for a moment and grabbing her terrible vegetarian lunch before looking back to Rafe. “Not everyone’s. Just yours.”

And with that, she leaves the office. And Rafe knows he is screwed, because he just met the love of his life.

JJ Maybank shared almost everything with his friends. Emphasis on almost. They had always relied on him to be the funny one. To always goof around and take nothing seriously. So, when his dad first started beating after his mother left, he said nothing. He felt it was an unnecessary burden to put on the people that truly loved him. Eventually, the bruises and scars were too overwhelming to keep a secret anymore and he began to confess all his issues to his friends. But even then, as JJ tried to open up to the people he cared the most about, there was one thing he could never share.

He was scared of love.

Not just any love, but specifically romantic love. Every time he felt himself begin to develop deep feelings for anyone, he soon backpedaled and left them hanging. It was too scary to give himself to anyone. It would be a lie if he said it had nothing to do with his mother leaving. He had always believed that there was no love greater than his parents when he was growing up and when his mother left, it shattered him. Of course, he never blamed her for leaving considering how abusive his dad was but it killed JJ to know she did not want him to come with her. He had begun to believe that she didn’t think he was important to bring along. He believed that if she truly loved him, she wouldn’t leave without him. That’s what scared him the most; the fact that someone can change their mind about love so quickly.

So, JJ ran at the first sign of love. And he never shared this with anyone. Until that day.

In early June, when Y/N had first moved to OBX, there was a Start of Summer Fair. Right after classes ended on the last day of school, people in the community organized a fair for everyone who was excited for the summer to start. It was exactly two weeks after Y/N had moved in. Exactly two hours after she spoke to Rafe. Funny how the world works.

Behind the fair, there was a small lake where rarely anyone ventured. It was usually muddy and no one in their right mind would go swimming there. With that being said, JJ wanted to go swimming there. He had spent a solid hour with his friends at the fair before becoming exhausted. It wasn’t so much that his friends were exhausting him but a girl named Anna was. He had gone out with her once and had never called her back (as per usual) but she had not picked up on the hidden messages JJ had given her. Instead, she followed him around during his entire time at the fair like a little lost puppy dog. Just as she announced she was going to the bathroom, JJ had almost died from boredom. Thankfully, her going to the bathroom let JJ slip away from his friends and sneak away from Anna.

“What do you want us to tell her?” Kie asked, watching as her best friend was breaking off from the group.

JJ shrugged, not possibly being able to care less. “I don’t care. For all I care, tell her I died.” A bit harsh, yes, but that’s how JJ operated. Abandon them before they abandon you.

The idea to hide near the lake hit him as soon as he left his friends. No one went back there, not if they wanted an infection. Although slightly disgusting, if that was what he had to do to get away and have a moment of peace, he would make that sacrifice. Unfortunately, he found no peace because the second the lake came into view between two thick trees, JJ saw a girl in the water. At first, he was going to leave, maybe even shout a quick joke her way for getting in the dirty water. But when he saw what she was doing, he became curious and couldn’t help but venture forward and investigate.

Y/N, too invested in what she was currently doing, did not see JJ approaching at first. Daisies had begun to grow around the lake, which was already odd on it’s own, but some of them floated on the surface level of the lake. Y/N thought a bunch of Daisies would be a good surprise for her mother so, in an effort to be thoughtful, she emerged herself, from the waist down, into the water. She was not afraid of the muddy water staining her white dress (she had worse stains on her clothes), even excited to show her mother the lengths she went to to get the Daisies. So, with one hand, she held onto a wicker basket full of Daisies and with the other hand, she grabbed a hold of the daisies in the water.

JJ watched in complete and utter fascination as this girl who he did not recognize, fearlessly went into the lake and plucked some Daisies to put in her basket. She almost didn’t even look real. He blinked quickly to make sure she was even actually there. When he opened his eyes and she was still there, he was glad he hadn’t imagined her.

Finally, Y/N sensed a presence that was not her own. Quickly turning to her right, she made eye contact with JJ and her face softened. He was the least threatening person she’d ever seen and something about him made her heartbeat pick up.

She brushed this feeling off and instead, with a small smile on her lips, spoke confidently. “Hello stalker.”

JJ blushed, shoving his hands into his pockets and taking a few steps closer to the lake. “I’m sorry. Was just wondering what you’re doing here. No one comes here.”

“You’re here, aren’t you?” Y/N quips backs, a playfulness in her voice.

JJ thinks he might faint. “Um, well, I’m hiding.”

Y/N giggled. “Me too actually.” She grabs more daisies and puts them in her basket. She looks back up at JJ and speaks to him again. “Who are you hiding from?”

JJ gulps. He doesn’t want to scare away this girl by telling her why he’s come back here. He knows anyone else would judge him but, as he looks at her, he can see she would never judge him. “I’m hiding from a girl.”

Y/N nods, not expressing any disgust and JJ’s heart jumps for joy. “I see. Ex-lover, I presume?”

JJ shrugs. “We only went on one date.”

“Must’ve been a terrible date.” She jokes, and JJ realizes that she’s completely stopped what she’s been doing to listen to him.

JJ shakes his head, focused on her cute round cheeks. “Not really. She was nice.”

Y/N pouts. “Then why are you hiding from her?”

JJ feels as though it is too complicated to explain. And besides, how would he start? He’s never told anyone why he truly has never had a girlfriend. But something about this girl makes him trust her completely. He knows it’s the arrogance in her eyes. “I’m scared.”

Y/N nods, as if she understands him completely and he feels as though she does. “I see. You know, when I get irrationally anxious over something like this, I play the What If game.”

JJ’s brows pull together in confusion. “What?”

Y/N moves through the water and closer to the edge where JJ stands. When she arrives at the water’s edge, she reaches her hand out for JJ to grasp. He hesitates first and knows it’s because he likes her so much already and this will be the first time they will touch. The first time he’ll feel her skin against his is beside this muddy lake. Eventually, he grabs her hand and helps her out of the water and he knows, the second his hand touches hers, she’s his dream girl. His hands are on fire and he feels a pit in his stomach grow as her hand grips tighter onto him. There’s a spark and he’s sure there has never been anyone else that made him feel this way.

“The What If game,” Y/N starts, placing her basket on the ground. She starts to ring out the water from her dress but continues to keep eye contact with JJ. “is really easy. Here; tell me a fear you have about falling in love but make sure it starts with ‘what if.’”

JJ thinks for a moment. There are so many and he doesn’t know where to start. Finally, he chooses his biggest fear. “What if she leaves?”

Y/N smiles. “What if she doesn’t though? But, what if she does and then you find who you’re actually supposed to be with? The game is to just rationalize every irrational fear.”

JJ nods, a small smirk growing at the corner of his lips. “You’re not one of those girls who believes every breakup brings you closer to your soulmate?”

Y/N laughs. “Yeah, I wish. I’m not your manic pixie dream girl - wait, what's your name?”

JJ extends his hand, ready to feel her skin again. “JJ Maybank. Yours?”

Y/N smiles and shakes JJ’s hand. This should be interesting, she thinks. “It’s Y/N.”

“So, Y/N,” JJ starts, her name feeling good coming from his mouth. “If you’re not my manic pixie dream girl, then what are you?”

Y/N smiles. She was right. This is definitely going to be interesting. “I’m just yours.”

tagging; @tovvaa

268 notes · View notes

kvj-novels · 3 years

Text

Senku x fem named!reader

Rating: this chapter is E for everyone though there is some mild language

Warnings: this fic has elements of smut and a mention of eating disorders THIS CHAPTER DOES NOT CONTAIN THE CONTENT WITH THESE WARNINGS.

Summary: Imogen has been awakened from petrification but she suffers from amnesia upon waking up. Senku and Taiju - her lover and childhood friend (respectively) before the petrification - must do their best to help her recall her past life.

Smut summary: soft sex, first time, no warnings but very NSFW.

Chapter Five

The man in the purple cloak type shirt offered his hand when I reached the bottom of the ladder. “My name is Gen.” he said. “Imogen.” I took his hand. “Do you know why I should meet Senku at the village?” I asked. Gen put an arm around me, and I placed my arm over his shoulders. I limped forward with his steady stride next to me. “When quarrels break out he settles it with full on matches. No one dies, but they are allowed to fight each other to settle the matter. Usually he’s found that sometimes people just need to have a real match to get things off their chest and then they’re good.” He explained. “Oh, that’s an interesting way to go about it.” I said, following him down the path and into the village. We came to the bridge and he stopped. “This bridge is narrow, it would be better if I carried you or you walked in front.” “I can walk.” I smiled, feeling a bit awkward around this stranger who interrupted...a moment. “Thank you for the help.” I quickly went across the bridge and followed Gen to the crowd of people. Benches were occupied and the ground was covered with people. They all surrounded an empty area where only two people stood. Senku saw me approaching and waved me over. Taiju was next to him. I made my way through the crowd as a tall, blond and angry looking man stated the rules and signaled for them to started. Taiju only just noticed me when I came up to them. He stood straight up, eyes wide. “Imogen.” He said surprised. I smiled. I saw him in my memory too and his face was full of familiarity. “Hi Taiju.” “You remember me?” “I have a memory. That’s it.” He grinned. “That’s good enough for me.” He said and without hesitation he wrapped me up in a big bear hug. I laughed and hugged him back. “Alright you big oaf,” Senku said. “Let the woman sit.” “Oh, right, you hurt yourself.” He said as he let go. “Here, sit between Senku and me.” He led me to the bench and I down next Senku. He winked at me. “Did Gen explain this?” He asked. “Yes. You make your subjects fight for your amusement.” I teased. He laughed. The crowd bellowed and we all faced the ring. One of them was on the ground, the other on top. The one on the ground fought until he was back on his feet again. Everyone cheered. Senku casually draped his arm over my shoulders as he picked up a flask and threw back some beer. “May I have some?” I asked. “Sure.” He handed me his mug. I took it and gave it a sniff which made him laugh. “It’s a lot stronger than what you’re used to.” He said. I threw back a swig and gulped it down. He was impressed with me for the 3.5 seconds in which I didn’t notice the kick. Then he belly laughed when I doubled over and coughed. Taiju couldn’t help but laugh too. A memory came flashing through my mind as I coughed. It was a moment similar to this. One of the only occasions where the three of us spent time together that summer. I smiled and look up at Taiju. He smiled back at me. “I have two memories now.” I said. He offered a fist and I looked at it perplexed for a moment before bumping my fist to his. “You’ll get more.” He said. The mood of the night for the crowd changed in a moment. Everyone gasped and both Taiju and Senku snapped their attention to the men fighting. Without even uttering a word, they both stood and ran to break up the fight. Taiju held one down while Senku pushed the other far away. Senku’s voice bellowed in the night as he spoke to the two men. “Alright, now since we can’t fight nicely to settle this then you’ll tell everyone right here and now why you’re fighting.” Both men were silent. “Speak!” Senku shouted. The one standing by him cleared his throat. “I don’t want to live here.” He said. “No one is being forced to stay.” Senku replied. “I made a comment that I and my friend would likely leave tomorrow. He” he pointed to theman held down by Taiju, “walked by and started a fight over it.” Senku turned to the man that Taiju was holding down. “Stand up.” He said. Taiju got off him and let him stand. “This village is simply a home. No one is forced to live here if they don’t want to. We have several outlying families who wanted to be on their own - they have every right and privilege as everyone here. But they have their privacy too.” “He’s not telling you the full truth.” The man said. Senku turned to the first, awaiting an explanation. “I want to leave Japan. I’m not from here.” He said. “Japan was never my home.” “Where do you wish to go?” Senku asked. “I’m from Hawaii.” “Are your friends from there as well?” “No...we haven’t yet found those I was traveling with.” Senku put his hands on the man’s shoulder. “Again I say, you are not forced to live here. If you wish to cross the ocean then we’ll all work together to build you a boat–“ “We can’t do that!” The other man shouted. “We can’t waste our resources to build a boat for a man who doesn’t know how to sail. He’ll be dead in a week.” Senku was silent but his face turned dark. “Anyone who wishes to take some time and help this man travel home, then please, come forward and volunteer your service. If you wish to make him food, clothes, and shelter then come forward.” Several people stepped forward in support of the man, including, I think, his friends that wished to go with him. “It will take a while, but you’ll have all the supplies you need. Figure out how to provide your services and continue your work for the village. However you do that is up to you.” Senku turned back to the man. “When you are ready to leave, come to me. I’ll have something for you.” He extended his arm in what looked like would be a handshake but instead the two men gripped each other’s elbow. “Thank you, Senku.” The man said. Senku turned to everyone else. “Let’s continue our night in peace.” He said. “I don’t want to hear this matter brought up again.” He looked at the man still standing in the ring. The man offered a polite bow and turned to go. Senku came and sat back down with a sigh. “Sorry about that. Usually they fight and make up. Sometimes I have to step in but it’s very rare.” “That’s okay. It looks like it took a lot out of you.” “It’s exhausting being a chief.” He said with a chuckle. “You do it well.” I smiled. A shadow stepped in front of me. “Imogen.” Taiju was standing there. I looked up at him. “I don’t want to interrupt any plans you may have, but if I may, can we talk soon?” His eyes started to water. “Taiju...what’s wrong?” “He probably misses you, the big cry baby.” Senku teased. My heart broke a bit because I couldn’t fully remember the bond we had. Taiju was crying softly. What a gentle soul in such a strong body. I stood and pulled his head down into a hug. “Taiju...I can’t remember what you were to me...but yes, of course we can talk soon. I wouldn’t mind getting some sleep tonight and meeting some time tomorrow?” He let out a sob into my shoulder. “I’ve missed you so much.” He said, holding himself back from hugging me. “Alright you big cry baby.” Senku said, coming up to us and putting a hand on his shoulder. He straightened and dried his face. “Go home and get some sleep with your girl.” Senku said. “We’ll see you tomorrow.” Senku took my hand and quickly made his escape through the village, hiding in the shadows when people came near. “You tired?” He asked once on the bridge. I shook my head. “It’s been a long couple days since I woke up and I couldn’t sleep before because it felt too similar to the petrification.” “Here,” he got in front of me and squatted down. I smiled and climbed onto his back. He carried me to the lookout and up the ladder to his room. I crawled off him and over to his bed. I heard him chuckle and he followed after me. His arms snaked around me and pulled me into chest. “Imogen?” His voice went deep, the sleep setting into his vocal chords. “Hmm?” “I’m glad you’re here...I didn’t realize, with all the crazy things that have kept me busy, how much I missed your companionship.” He pressed a kiss to my head. I smiled. “Go to sleep, Senku.”

He hummed and closed his eyes. I fell asleep listening to the sound of his heartbeat.

********

Tag list: @viskafrer @bee-cakes @potatochic2003 @gxldenhunny @cheesey-fox @guijh103 Please DM me if you would like to be added to the tag list!

#senku x fem #senku x reader #dr stone #fanfic #ishigami senku #taiju oki #dr stone fanfic #one shots

30 notes · View notes

yelenasdog · 3 years

Text

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝟏

♰ 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔲𝔫𝔰𝔢𝔱

genre: fluff

summary: new school, new faces. or maybe not? part one to a series explaining the pictures of my college au moodboard “new faces”.

words: 2k

warnings: pining, cursing, kissing, lots of inaccuracies to the show, that’s all i can think of.

a/n: i haven’t done anything for cm in quite some time but i got this random poof of inspo so here take it LMAO roger fic coming really soon.

♀♀♀

It was their first kiss. First date, actually.

Emily was a senior at Georgetown, having just transferred from University of Pittsburgh for her last year. Both schools were an odd choice for the young woman, the former proving to be the wrong fit, as it turned out. It angered her mother that she had been transferring so close to graduation, and frankly Emily could care less, but for some reason, she felt her skin itch at any thought of staying at that horrid place just a semester longer.

She wasn’t quite sure as to why. Her questions might have been answered, though, her first day on the new campus.

The fall air was chilly and crisp, her nose running ever so slightly as she would pull her burgundy jacket tighter around herself in a desperate grab at warmth, it all to no avail. She kept trying, though, pulling the tie around her waist so tight that it felt as if she was in a corset.

(Not that she would know, she’d refused to ever get near one. The whole idea of them scared her.)

She watched the colorful leaves crunch under her boots, enjoying the sound and feeling a great deal, the texture reminding her fondly of moments from her youth, the few fond ones she had, anyway. She smiled softly, looking up to see the leaves swirl around a familiar looking blonde head of hair.

A few of the leaves got stuck in the hay colored (now) mess, and she only smiled at it, reaching up a gentle hand to pick them out. She grinned down at them and bit her pink lips, watching as they dropped to the cobblestone from her hand. She continued on with a pep in her step, and to put it lightly, Emily was infatuated.

She thought about the blue eyed beauty for the rest of the day, her elegance, her lips that somehow weren’t chapped in the horribly cold weather (which not that Emily knew yet, but was because of the cinnamon peppermint chapstick that the mystery girl kept in her right pocket), and her aura, so to say, as a whole. The voice in her head told her to simmer down, that it was unrealistic that someone as seemingly bright and sunny would even think about spending a flicker of precious time with someone like her. Emily should have been more confident, as she would learn, as mystery girl had been thinking of her, too.

Yes, Jennifer Jareau was thinking of the unknown girl with the wonderfully long eyelashes, and the shiny dark hair that was similar to the shade of black that graced the feather of the crows she would see down by the pond she passed on her morning runs. Her mind was otherwise occupied from all normal affairs, consumed by thoughts of her ripped and pale lips that the enticing other woman darted her tongue across mere seconds after the last time she had, every single time.

Jennifer had wished to tell the girl that licking her lips only dried them out more, only wanting to help relieve her of any possible pain, as that’s what Jennifer always did. That’s why she told herself she was thinking of the drop dead gorgeous girl who she had sworn she’d seen before, and she promised to herself she would find her and let her know.

And apparently, she would.

It wouldn’t be for a few hours, though, not until they both ended up at the top floor of the library, the quietest one where there was a silent rule that speaking was forebode. Emily internally cursed herself for that, feeling damned that fate would put her in a position of such pining, yearning. It was an ironic situation, though, as Emily would like to believe that she would have the confidence in herself enough to actually go up to the blonde and make conversation, maybe ask her for a study date? But, she wouldn’t. Not today.

Jennifer would, though. Jennifer would catch notice of the brunette lurking behind the single bookshelf in the upper level, as it was only really there for storage and the shelves were sparse. So with her heart beating and her palms sweaty, she went down the flights of stairs, her feet silent against the carpet. They would sound out again when she reached the tile flooring of the second level, and she screwed her eyes shut, hoping that somehow the girl followed her and that JJ would hear her footprints.

She didn’t care how ridiculous she looked, all bundled up and standing in the middle of a group of tables with her eyes closed, almost like she was trying to turn invisible, hiding in plain sight. Honestly, she very well may have been.

A few beats passed, and Jennifer gave up on her non existent spidey senses, deciding to try to actually rid her mind of raven girl, as she had decided to call her until she knew her real name, and study for her upcoming exam that she her until she knew her real name, and study for her upcoming exam that she somehow had, despite it only being the sophomores first day.

So she sat quietly as she read through her criminology textbook, humming some tune that her friend had introduced her to, something by a new indie group. Her humming came to a cease, though, when she heard a thud. She looked up, a small gasp falling from her glossed lips at who was sitting across from her.

She looked right back down to the tanned wood of the table, as soon as she saw warm brown eyes boring into her. Then, it was quiet, just the bustle of those around her. Pages flipping, pencils scratching, and small groans escaping from tired students as they went.

“Why’d you stop?”

Jennifer’s breath caught in her throat, her perfectly manicured hand freezing on the paragraph she was reading. Raven girl's voice had caught her off guard, deep and smooth, like honey.

“I’m sorry, what do you mean?” The blonde stuttered out, still having a hard time meeting her eyes.

“Your humming, I liked it, it was nice. Don’t tell me you stopped because of me!” She leaned forward on her arm, quirking a perfect eyebrow. They both laughed, and Emily felt she hadn’t ever in her life heard such a golden and melodic sound before.

“Sorry, sorry, you just caught me by surprise, that’s all.”

“I don’t believe we’ve met, I’m Emily. I just transferred here from-”

“University of Pittsburgh?”

A look of bewilderment came across Emily's stark features, along with a sly smile. “How’d you know,”

“Jennifer. My name’s Jennifer. I came here for my grad studies a while back.”

Emily chuckled again, falling back to her chair. “God, I swore you looked so familiar.” She said, watching as Jennifer laughed and shook her head. Jennifer closed her book, observing that Emily never had even opened hers. She placed it in her bag slinging it over her shoulder. She stood, Emily following suite.

“Small world, right, Emily?”

She nodded immediately, tightening her own grip on her satchel. The leather was cool on her calloused fingers,

“Care to chat with me about it over a coffee?”

And that’s how they ended up sitting in the quaint cafe just down the road, watching as the sun started to sink, beverages in hand. Jennifer had found out that Emily preferred her coffee black, while Emily had found out that Jennifer liked hers with 2 hazelnut creams and 4 sugars. The thought made both girls smile, finding that both drinks fit their personalities perfectly.

Growing impatient, Emily ran her tongue over her lips again, feeling the peeling skin, the taste bitter and the sores burning. She leaned closer to Jennifer, like she had earlier in the library. Jennifer could feel her breath fanning over her neck, and it gave her butterflies, just like the ones she can remember being so obsessed with in her youth.

“What do you say we get outta here, find somewhere to watch the sunset?”

Jennifer only nodded bashfully, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and standing, taking Emily's hand as it had been offered to her, following her wherever she may go.

Now, they were sitting on the concrete of the rooftop to the freshman dorms, Emily somehow managing to get through, claiming she had some friends who would be happy to let her up. Apparently, she wasn’t bluffing.

“Sunset’s gorgeous, huh?” Jennifer spoke, her hands feeling the rough material beneath her, the wind blowing against her face. Her hair floated around her like a halo, and though Emily had lost much faith, if she had to spot an angel, her money was on them looking just like the girl next to her. Her eyes never left Jennifer’s silhouette as she spoke, her focus captured.

“Yeah. Breathtaking.”

Jennifer turned to meet her gaze, both of them fully understanding what breathtaking, really, truly meant in that moment. It was the windswept hair, breathtaking, really, truly meant in that moment. It was the windswept hair, watery eyes, red noses. Bright smiles, hands basically itching to reach for the other.

“Does everyone call you Jennifer?”

“I mean, my mom calls me Jen?”

Emily shook her head, saying “No, that won’t work. How about a last name?”

“Jareau.”

She took a second, using this as an opportunity to stall, decide her next move.

“I’ve got it! How about JJ? Yeah?”

Jennifer or JJ, smiled again, looking to her hands. She loved it, God, why did she love it? She knew the answer to that, because Emily had given it to her, it was new, exciting. Just like her.

“It’s that, or J squared. Which one?” She tilted her head, and then both laughed and smiled, something they found they would be doing a lot of together.

“Yeah, you’re right. JJ is good, it’s good.” She whispered, lifting her head. She was met with Emily, who had some troubled look upon her face. She was conflicted, that much JJ could tell, her few profiling classes she’d had serving her well.

They were close, now, and JJ could finally see the folds and cracks of the other girls lips, wanting nothing more than to just lean in and kiss them, once and for all.

“Y’know, uh, licking your lips makes dryness even worse.”

Emily's mouth made an “o”, a smile coming soon after.

“Really? Well then you’ve got to spill, what on Earth do you do to keep yours so damn perfect?”

“I- Fuck.”

Not waiting a second more, JJ rushed forward, connected their lips in what felt so long awaited, though they had only formally known each other for a few hours. The contrast of their skin was so enticing, so addicting, they couldn’t help but smile, teeth clashing and breaths mixing. They only separated to catch their breaths, chests heaving.

“It’s chapstick. I never leave home without it.” JJ commented, said chapstick having left remnants on Emily's lips. She nodded, opening her eyes.

“Yeah, I got that. Peppermint and,” She quickly flicked her tongue again, recognition becoming prevalent in her features. “cinnamon?”

JJ’s smile widened, as it had never left her face, and she nodded slowly, pulling the tube out from her right pocket. She popped off the lid, shifting positions so that she was straddling Emily's lap, her hair dangling in her eyes.

“Is this okay?” She questioned, the chapstick still in her shaky hand. Emily nodded vigorously, her heart beating quite fast, her mind repeating all the possibilities that could go wrong like some sort of mantra.

“Yeah, this is more than okay.” She laughed, her eyes crinkling at the corners. JJ did the same, putting on another round of the solution before leaning down and placing a long kiss on Emily's lips. She pulled away, running the tube over them again, “just for good measure” she had said.

When they finally had left the cold rooftop, hand in hand, the sky had turned into an indigo sheet, the stars in it shimmering as bright as ever.

“Em?” JJ had questioned, stopping in her tracks. Emily looked over, raising her brows and tilting her head, resembling a puppy.

“Hmm?”

“Can we do this again?”

The question hung in the air, and Emily savoured it, letting it sink in deeply, as deep as it could go. They started walking again, their heels echoing loudly against the wet stone.

“Yeah, JJ. I’d like that.”

♀♀♀

hmmmmmmm interesting ANYWAY i’ll make a pt two prolly idk peace ily go drink water and eat protein

edit: i just reread this this is so horrible what the FAWK im so sorry never let me write when im pulling an all nighter ever again

xx hj

#jemily #jj jareau #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #jemily fic #jennifer jareau x emily prentiss #jj x emily #wlw fic #jj jareau fic #emily prentiss fic #idk what to tag this #cm #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #we will rock queue

30 notes · View notes

savittski-writes · 3 years

Text

Doppelgängers Part Seven

So this is part seven of my AU crossover fic between Beetlejuice the Musical and School of Rock the Musical. Anyway, usual disclaimer that this is my first time writing for these characters, so it might be a little out of character. The idea for the story is based off this post:

https://colanom.tumblr.com/post/613740109133742080/au-where-charles-and-rosalie-are-cousins-and-ros

Title: Doppelgängers

Part: 7/9

Word Count: 1,117

Summary: Rosalie Mullins and Charles Deetz are cousins who have always been very close, if not a little emotionally stilted. When Charles and Delia invite Rosalie and her plus one to their wedding, what shenanigans will ensue? And why does Rosalie’s new boyfriend bear a striking resemblance to a certain stripey demon?

In this part: Everything has been explained to Ros and Dewey. Ros must come to terms with what is going on while Dewey is just glad he’s not the biggest screw up in the room.

Part One

Part Six

Part Eight

Chapter Seven: Whaddya Say, Amigo?

Deetz Residence, Living Room

“Remind me again why I couldn’t at least tell my side of it?” Beetlejuice asked grumpily from where he sat on the couch, arms crossed over his chest like a petulant teenager. Charles, Delia, and the Maitlands all rolled their eyes, glaring towards where the demon rested. Rosalie and Dewey, who was now sat on the floor in front of her armchair, both looked rather pensive as they took in the story the group had just finished telling them.

“Probably because you get very distracted, Beej,” Lydia drawled from where she sat upside down on the couch next to Beetlejuice.

“That and you tend to retell your Katherine Hepburn story a lot,” Barbara spoke up, glancing sideways to Adam. Both shivered in disgust as they remembered all the awful times they had to hear him recount the story.

“Yeah, whatever,” the demon muttered as he waved a hand at the ghosts. “How’re you doing over there carbon copy? Still with us?” Dewey blinked, looking up at the demon’s words and gave a slight shrug.

“Well… I guess I’m a little relieved,” Dewey admitted at last, fighting back the smirk that was threatening to form on his face.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Beetlejuice asked at the same time Rosalie questioned, “Dewey?”

“Relieved that… someone actually fucked up more than I did,” Dewey said with a small chuckle before tilting his head back to look at Rosalie. “Hear that, Ros? Someone topped what I did!”

“That doesn’t make it any better, Dewey,” Rosalie chided in a disapproving tone, rolling her eyes at her boyfriend.

“Ah, you love me. Besides, I only lied. At least I didn’t torture, extort, or attempt murder,” Dewey pointed out helpfully with a smile. Rosalie’s eyes narrowed at the man, almost forgetting the other people in the room. In truth, she was thankful for the banter between herself and her boyfriend. It was a welcome reprieve from the situation that would allow her a few extra moments to come to terms with everything going on right now.

“You kidnapped children under false pretenses!”

“I did no such thing,” Dewey argued back immediately, turning fully to face her now. “I mean, one, I had already come clean by that point. So there were no false pretenses to speak of. And two, they kidnapped me, if anything. They hijacked the bus and came to my apartment. I was totally prepared to spend a night wallowing in self pity and drinking alone.”

“That… is pathetic,” the demon doppelgänger commented from across the room. Dewey turned back to him with a glare, though it seemed the gothy teenager was on his side just this once.

“Not any more pathetic than moping on a roof with purple hair and singing about how you’re invisible,” Lydia pointed out, drawing the demon’s ire. Beetlejuice couldn’t stay mad at Lydia for long though, and he couldn’t really argue the point. “Touché.”

“I’m not sure I even want to know what you’re talking about, Rosie,” Charles decided as he massaged his temples, looking about ready to pull his hair out.

“Is it hardwired into your DNA, and the DNA of pretty much anyone who looks like you to be… slightly unhinged?” Adam asked, mostly rhetorically from where he and Barbara stood by the stairs. He glanced between the two doppelgängers, shaking his head at their similar mannerisms, energy levels, and general chaoticness they exuded. The only thing Adam was thankful for was that Dewey obviously had a functioning moral compass and general understanding for boundaries.

“Definitely. You should see our actor. He’s just as chaotic as we are,” Beetlejuice added, nodding sagely.

“What?”

“What?” Beetlejuice asked innocently, glancing between Dewey and Lydia, who had both spoken. “Nothing, nothing! Forget I said anything at all!” The room’s occupants stared blankly at the demon, looking slightly concerned. Even those who were used to his antics were rather confused and uncertain of exactly what to say. Deciding that the weirdness had reached a level she was not prepared to deal with, Rosalie cut the tension.

“So… back to the most important topic. You moved into a haunted house and your daughter summoned a demon who went haywire, you brought to life and killed, and now plays house with you?” Rosalie summarized, looking to her cousin. Charles could only nod silently, not really sure of what else he could say to alleviate the tension or to assuage his cousin’s fears or worries.

“Yeah, and for some reason my dead dumbass looks exactly like your living dumbass,” Lydia added, gesturing between the demon and Rosalie’s boyfriend. Both men bristled slightly at her words and shot her almost identical annoyed looks. “Okay, that’s weird, and I’ve seen a lot of weird shit. Even your clones don’t look this exact, Beej.”

“That’s actually a very valid point. Why do you guys look so much alike?” Barbara asked as she stepped further into the room, glancing back and forth between the two men. “It’s uncanny. I mean, you would look identical if you just-”

“-Did this?” Beetlejuice questioned with a grin as he snapped his fingers and disappeared behind a wall of green smoke. Once the smoke had cleared, he looked remarkably cleaner with similar messy dark hair and beard. The only obvious difference between the two at that moment were their outfits and postures.

“Holy shit!”

“Language, Lydia!” Adam chided tiredly, glancing between the now identical demon and man.

“Whaddya say, amigo?” Beetlejuice asked as he reappeared sitting next to Dewey, elbowing him in the side. “Up for raising a little Hell?” Dewey for his part, looked slightly torn between being responsible and giving into his immature urges to have a little fun and take advantage of the situation.

“Well… I never was great at following the rules. And a little fun never hurt anyone,” Dewey conceded with a small smile, earning groans from most of everyone in the room apart from the demon and the goth. He was pleased to note that Rosalie’s groan sounded more fondly exasperated than genuinely put out.

“Tomorrow will be a disaster,” Charles groaned as he dropped his head into his hands, leaning forward in the other arm chair he sat in. Delia tried to soothe her future husband once more, rubbing his shoulders.

“Everything happens for a reason, Charles, so try not to stress. As my guru Otho always says, every success-”

“Starts with sucks and ends with yes,” the Deetz family chorused in varying degrees of enthusiasm, much to the confusion of Dewey and Rosalie. This was going to be a long day, and probably an even longer weekend.

17 notes · View notes

boogiewrites · 3 years

Text

No. 9: The Body Ch. 7

Characters: Diego Hargreeves & OFC Eve Corpuz

Summary: Eve and Diego get closer, leading to the inevitable confession of attraction. Eve’s powers grow to make some new very interesting connections.

Warnings/Tags: Flirting. Dancing. Training. Sexual Content. Masturbation.

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT! If you’d like added to the tags, just let me know. This is a multi-chapter fic.

Their lives had become a new normal the past few months. Training had become a welcome escape and focus for them both. Eve had slowly been getting stronger in physicality and her powers. She and Diego were also undoubtedly getting closer as well.

It wasn’t just physical closeness, although there was plenty of that. Like the time she got a weird hip cramp from doing too many kicks and he had to put her on the floor and stretch her leg up and lean in. If she hadn’t been in pain she would’ve noticed the hip to hip placement and how the sounds she was making could be interpreted wholly differently.

Eve was very busy, work picking back up and her trying to manage it all. She found time to still be with Diego on occasion.

He’d wanted to introduce her to what he did. He called them patrols, and she called them looking for trouble. He’d help thwart muggers and she’d heal him up. She’d offer to help heal at the homeless camps and he’d be her bodyguard. They were finding they had a lot of similarities. That need to prove that they were good and make themselves useful. Despite the drastically different childhoods they’d had, they still seemed to get out with the same sort of hang-ups. It made for a deeper connection as anytime they tried to defend their decisions, the other would simply nod and say, “No, I get it.” And mean it.

This connection not only afforded them someone to share their seriousness with, their passions and motivations, it also allowed for more room in their lives to let their guards down with the built trust. It allowed them both time to do something they rarely did with others, be silly.

She’d made him give into using her playlists since she was the one paying, she stressed. He’d not teased her too much about her music. But what he didn’t know is she had multiple ones for when she was alone. Eve loved to make a list, and playlists were no exception. Her workouts at home on her days off consisted of her dancing. Nothing fancy, just freestyling like she was back in her club days and music video choreography like she was a teen again. She still knew every move to Oops I did it again and that was a secret she’d take to her grave.

So in the transition between takedowns, when The Weeknd comes on with his synthy beat for Blinding Lights, Diego is confused like a puppy as the single tone plays for a moment before realizing it’s something he’s heard on the radio before.

“I like the 80’s vibes but I’ve never fought to anything this… dancey.”

“Yeah, this...isn’t the right playlist. This must be my dance workout one. I’ll change it.” she says wiping her face off with her shirt and walking over.

“You have a dance workout? Like that.. zumba stuff?”

“No.” she shakes her head and laughs. “On my days off I do cardio to music just... dancing around. Y’know a solid beat to do reps to.”

“Show me.” he says with a big teasing grin.

“Ugh.” She makes a disappointed face.

“You’re never shy, c’mon.” he motions to the center of the mat to give her the floor.

“Put a girl on the spot.” she mumbles and starts a basic hip moving beat. “This one’s got a lot of The Weeknd on it.” she grins almost bashfully. She stretches to the beat, squats, and simple body weight reps. “See? You just do some reps and then dance when you want to.”

He comes in line with her and starts copying her. “So you start with the Carlton dance?”

“Shut up!” she laughs and claps her hands at him. “It is NOT the Carlton dance you asshole.” she laughs and gets back into her one-two-step sway to the beat that isn’t enough to wear you out but enough to keep your heart rate up.

“Nah, I’m pretty sure it is.” he says with a boyish persistent nod.

“You want me to really dance? Like I do at home? I’ll fuckin’...twerk all over this gym, Diego.” she says it like a threat and he gives her a full chested laugh. “You want a choreographed routine?” she busts a move from an old routine from her stage days when she was younger.

“Yeah! What you got?”

“Fine, next song…” she waits for the song to shift. Earned It begins to play and she rolls her eyes. “This isn’t a…” she snorts. “Not what I meant. Not really a workout song.”

“Then why is it on the playlist?”

“Because it IS a routine but not…” she twitches her nose.

“I am intrigued. Understandably.” he crosses his arms feeling the upper hand.

“You’re a dick, you know that?” she sighs and goes and grabs a fold-up chair from the edge of the room. “If I do this, you have to dance for ME. Fairs fair.”

“Oga for oga.” he nods

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s Swedish.” he grunts out with a showy shake of his head.

“I was dancer. So this is… a routine we would do…”

“You don’t fight like a dancer moves, no offense.”

“Not the same kind of dancer…” she grins before it comes apparent just what sort of dancer she meant. “Never done this for free. Consider yourself lucky.” she laughs as she flips her hair over in her high pony and continues spinning and straddling the chair.

“I do. I am very lucky.” he grins and thumbs his lip. Giving her a cocky nod and up and down.

“I’m only doing this on the basis of double dog dare rules.”

“And I respect that.” he continues his big grin and nod as he judged her playfully without a word.

“That’s all you get for free.” she rises out of an almost split on the floor. “Fuck. Need to work on my splits.” she gives a good stretch after moving the chair. “Your turn. Better make this Magic Mike worthy.” she demands with a pointed finger to the floor.

“Maybe not Magic Mike…” he shrugs as another song plays in, I Feel It Coming playing through. “This new?”

“New-ish.” she answers. He casually keeps his eyes away from hers as his hands move confidently to her body and yank her close, a formal stance as he finds the beat with a bobbing head. “Follow my lead.” he connects his eyes and takes her in a waltz light stride across the floor.

“What is this? Am I suddenly a duchess being courted in the 1700s?” she teases and he throws her out to spin her.

“No, because she’d know how to do this.” he taunts before dipping her.

“I’m sorry I’m not that fancy!” she laughs with messy hair as he pulls her back up quickly.

“Oh, you think it’s fancy?”

“Yeah because it is. This is 4 different kinds of forks at dinner fancy.” she mocks. “I gave you grade A… okay grade B exotic dancer vibes and you give me Mr. Darcy who will faint if he sees my ankles.”

“Fine.” he rolls his eyes and pulls her back to his chest. Hands hard on her hips make her blush immediately, a quick beat hip sway catches her off guard. “Better?”

“Yes. Give me modern. Give me it’s early 2000’s and you’re shaking it like you don't wanna go home broke that night.” she demands playfully and they share a laugh, feeling the nostalgia for a moment and falling into a comfortable, borderline not appropriate dancing for middle schoolers. They gave over for a minute, hips and hands and him using his intense eyes that had gotten him what he’d wanted when he was younger. Eve could dance, she’d made a living out of it before and during school before things got too hectic to keep up work and study and residency. She’d danced before that with fake ID’s in clubs, she’d been around plenty of people and places, and she hated to admit that the man could move. With his almost pitbull puppy appearance she could forget that he was very in tune with his body when he wanted. She was reminded of it when she would watch him fight someone else. And she was reminded of it as he had his hands around her waist and hips with no hesitation, a confidence his usual demeanor with her lacked. They came together to sway, eyes locked and subtle smiles with competitive dark eyes watching the other.

“Eve?”

“Hmm?” she asks with a pleasant smile as she looks up to him in the reverse embrace.

“Would you-” he begins, his head tilted to her shoulder. He takes a low key deep breath and swings her away, taking her hands back into a much simpler embrace. “Would you wanna go out sometime?” His voice didn’t exactly crack but there was a fleeting moment of him losing his suave exterior to show the unsure boy with a crush underneath.

“Go out?” she asks rhetorically. “And do more of this?” she asks with a playful inflection to show he didn’t need to be nervous.

“I mean, if you want me to keep making you look bad…” he smirks and she steps on his foot and they share a hushed laugh. “We could go dancing.” he offers.

“We don’t have to,” she answers quickly and quietly. “It’s not something I do much. Well, in public anyway.” they continue a slow PTA approved slow dance stature together.

“Yeah me either.” he chuckles back.

“If not dancing..then what?”

“We could, uh, have drinks.” he offers with a thoughtful pursed mouth.

“We could eat.” she offers with a wide grin.

“Always with you and food.” he teases

“Always. I’ve never seen you turn it down anytime it was offered.”

“Touche.” he narrows his eyes. “Food and drinks. Alright, we’ll go to a place that has food and drinks.”

“....a restaurant?” she asks with a bubbling laugh.

“Yeah. One of those.” he breathily laughs it out and looks away for a moment.

He was awfully cute when he was dumb.

“I know this place. Good burgers.” he nods. “There’s a bar and you can get food. It’s small… not very busy. Mostly working-class people y’know. Easy to have some privacy.”

“You make it sound like we’re going on a stakeout.”

“Old habit I guess.”

“So it’s not in fact, a stakeout?”

‘No. No stakeout.” he answers enthusiastically and feeling her playful energy.

“Promise?”

“Pinky promise.”

“Deal.” she doesn’t break from the sacred finger hold, and neither does he. “So if it’s not work…” she begins with an animated move of her neck. “Does that mean this is a date?”

He pauses for a moment and lowers his chin to face her more head-on, speaking more quietly. “Yeah. A date.” she sees that flash of fuck boy, she’d named it. You know the lip-biting, the fingers through the hair and doing that nod your way like they know you want them. Tik tok fuck boys, the ones with 90’s teen heartthrob hair. While Diego’s hair wasn’t quite to that length yet, she wondered for a distracted second how it might look on him, or if he’d had that hair when they were that age.

“Was it the Carlton dance?” she asks with wiggling eyebrows and he breaks his suave demeanor. “Or was it the chair dance?” she gives a goofy wiggle in his arms.

“It was more the chair than the Carlton…” she feels that shift, his hand a bit more demanding on her lower back, keeping her close. “But I wouldn’t turn down that Carlton dance after a few drinks.” they both fall into a shared bubble of laughter as she ducks her head to his chest and her shoulders shake.

“I’ll be sure to wear a pastel sweater and some pleated khakis on the date.” she says with a sly grin that he answers with crinkled eyes of amusement.

“The chair dance in THAT? Now THAT’s sexy.”

“Oh yeah, catch me three drinks deep and grinding in my fuckin’...Tommy Bahama dress slacks.” she moves her hips grinding on his thigh to call his bluff and before he can break his sarcastic bitten lip to show excessive interest in the idea - a voice breaks their bubble of intimacy they’d been working on all night.

“Do we need a separate license to teach dance?” The voice breaks a cozy moment between them. They both freeze and Eve blinks curiously at the short teenager with the angry face. Oh yeah, that had to be his brother.

“We have that license. And the one for the use of the songs.” Diego’s hands move away without much rush from Eve, his smile fading almost instantly. “What do you want?”

“A word?” a cocked eyebrow from the pale and strong-jawed young man.

“We were kind’ve in the middle of-”

“In the middle of -what- exactly Diego?” Five’s head cocked the side.

“It’s fine. I can go. It’s near the end of my session anyway.”

“Oh.” Five mumbles. “Didn’t realize you were a paying customer.”

“Yeah. Hi. I’m Doctor Eve Corpuz.” she reaches out her hand after putting on a hoodie.

“Doctor, eh? What kind?”

“ER Doctor at Calvary.”

“MMph.” He gives a respectful nod. “Wouldn’t be where you met my mess of a brother would it?”

“It would be actually.” she gives a warm smile as she stuffs her things into her duffle.

“Pleasure to meet you. But I do need a word in private with my brother.”

“Family stuff. I get it.” she nervously laughs. “I’ll see you on Thursday?”

“Uh...yeah.” Diego shakes his head, obviously flustered and glaring at his brother.

“Okay. See you. You boys have a good night!”

Eve pulls up her hood to cozy against the blustery spring night.

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

Eve had received a smattering of high energy texts from her friend when she sent, ‘I think my trainer just asked me out?😏’.

With playful accusations of what a harlot Eve was planning on being she was also met with a new nervousness. Now the way her coworker was seeing it, her hot Personal trainer asked her if she wanted to go out. As opposed to how Eve saw it, her mentor Diego seeing if she wanted to do something besides train for once. But he loved training. Yeah, she couldn’t lie to herself. It was a date.

Once the revelation hits her she keeps a sly smile on her face as she goes about her evening in her apartment. It WAS a date. And he HAD had his hands all over her tonight. Not that it was unusual with their new ventures into MMA, but this was different. That was for fun. Not for training purposes. They’d just been two people dirty dancing. At least for what action Eve had gotten lately, it was considered dirty.

She turns her playlist to the one from the gym earlier over her speakers. She finds the same sultry song, the one she’d used in her VIP room lap dances. She’d loved the video for the song and made up a routine based on it. She wasn’t a fan of the movie or book it came from but it was a moody vibe setter and that’s what she liked in her work. She takes a chair from the corner of her room, in just her panties and paper-thin t-shirt, and channeled that part of her that’d been bubbling beneath the surface ever since she’d met Diego. That part of her that kept in touch with her sexuality every day. The part of her that loved moving her body to the music, audience or not.

She admires herself in the dresser mirror for a moment. Something she hadn’t done in a while beyond the quick double-take of having her butt look good. She felt like herself, the Eve she was without all this worry about powers and careers and responsibility. That girl that loved dancing. The girl that went from town to town, loving and leaving and never staying long enough to take root. Being led by nothing but her heart. Not a thought to the future. It was easy to miss that version of herself, but she knew she was better for having gotten her shit together. But it was nice to romanticize from time to time alone.

He could just be a guy at a bar, and she’s an eager woman looking for something that burns so hot it couldn't last. It doesn’t take long for her to fall into her fantasy, recalling his hands on her, sweat dripping onto her collarbone from his damp hair hanging across his forehead over those dark eyes. She could smell him, feel his hands on her she knew when she kissed him she’d taste the salt of his sweat. She was in deep, just like her fingers between her pussy lips. She’d have a spicy little daydream, cum nice and hard, and fall into a heavy sleep. That was her plan for the evening.

Across town, in his apartment, Diego’s night was just getting started. He was looking over documents Five had given him, something he thought he might need to know about. But he was finding it hard to concentrate.

He thought he was past this sort of thing, some adolescent reminiscent sudden sexual urge that made its way into your head and wouldn’t get out. As his fingers fidgeted and his leg bounced, he took a deep breath and he felt his body getting warm, the blood flowing and him seeing the straining against his gym shorts. He took another deep breath and this one felt more like a sigh, a slump onto the desk in front of him as he looked down at his twitching shorts.

“Really? Now?” He mutters to himself as he looks around as if someone could be watching, making his way to his bedroom. Wasn’t going to chance anyone interrupting him again.

He sat on the bed, kicking off his bottoms and tossing his shirt aside. But as soon as he gave into it, it was like he could feel her hands on him, and there was only one woman on his mind. It’s like she was in his arms again, her strong hips in his hands, he could feel her hand creeping up around his neck, nails raking on his scalp and making him shiver.

She didn’t waste much time, her clit already throbbing and aching for attention. In her mind, she finally brings those full lips to her own, hand into his pants and happy with what she finds there.

It was as if he could feel her mouth around him, his hand and hers one of the same, her imagining him in her throat and nice and wet before abandoning the laws of physics and then suddenly laying down and her slipping him inside.

From her leisurely position on the bed she moves on her hands and knees, a pillow a poor stand-in, but her imagination makes up the rest. She wanted to feel that broad chest under her hands and the slap of skin to skin. She felt the slip of sweat on her palms and held him by the hair as she rode and kissed him.

Diego was sprawled in his bed, hand around his cock, and pumping to try to satisfy himself. He could feel her grinding against him, that delicious weight of a woman on top of you, taking what she needed. He very easily imagined it, finally seeing her tits bounce as she moved and the never-ending expanse of her tattoos without the interference of clothes. He was happy to take a back seat for a hot creature like her but he grew hungry, nearing his end faster than he anticipated.

Eve was at the desperate stage. So close to reaching the peak. Everything sensitive and flushed and wanting to lay back and take it. She grabs a dildo from the bedside drawer, a quick stick to the headboard, and Eve was moaning out his name to an empty room.

With a hand hard on the headboard, his body taught and almost angry at the tension, he feels the bounce-back of her ass as he drills into her. Hands fast to her hips and back, holding her down. He let out a frustrated growl as he felt his own orgasm about to rise.

With a moan, she begs for him to go deeper and she feels the release through her body. Hands on her tits and moaningas she convulsed, imagining his cock inside her instead, his hands tight to her hip and breast just as she was envisioning. He collapsed into the pillow beneath him, panting.

“That was… intense.” They sigh.

Apparently, Eve’s powers growing stronger was creating some interesting connections.

@jaegeeeeer @diegos-butt @anglovesthis @likedovesinthewnd

#diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves fic #The Umbrella Academy #the umbrella academy fanfic #diego hargreeves fanfic

9 notes · View notes

elyreywrites · 4 years

Text

hips don’t lie (shakira shakira)

a crack fic born of a typo, and enabled by discord (shout out to the C&C discord server!! y’all are amazing.) also, it was a motivational gift for a friend. and a huge thanks to Bumpkin for being my beta on this fic!

title from Shakira’s “Hips Don’t Lie”.

please REBLOG -- DO NOT REPOST

AO3 Link

Teen 1,895 words Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne part of my batkids shenanigans series

Summary:

Tim breaks a hip. Dick and Jason fight for the right of sitting shotgun. Barbara is the Actual Best. And Bruce is Suffering.

- - - - -

Tim leaned back against the wall in his cell and waited. He certainly wasn’t going to escape at the moment – not after some goon had slammed a metal bat into his hip. Standing wasn’t going to happen, much less fighting. As it was, Tim could block out the pain while sitting down and not moving. He’d dragged his body out of the desert after he was stabbed in the spleen, he could ignore this pain.

The sound of shattering glass and indistinct yelling brought a grin to his face. Ah, his rescue had arrived. Who did they send this time? The gunfire that broke out could mean Jason, or the goons had guns. Maybe both. The only guarantee was that it wasn’t Damian. He had a final paper due in the morning for school and Bruce ordered him off patrol.

The commotion lasted all of ten minutes. After another couple of minutes, something banged on the other side of the door.

“Hey Red, yell if you’re in here,” called Dick. After a second, he squawked, “What was that for?”

“He might be unconscious and can’t fucking answer,” Jason snarked.

Huh, both of them to the rescue. “I’m conscious,” he yelled. The lock clicked and his two older brothers strolled in, the keys dangling from the lock.

“Oh good,” Jason drawled, “then you can explain why the fuck you didn’t escape on your own.” He tossed Tim an extra comm, which he immediately put in.

Tim hummed. “I mean, it might have something to do with the metal bat that some asshole caught me in the hip with.”

Both men paused, just as Bruce appeared in the doorway. Tim knew his eyebrow was raised expectantly under the cowl. Tim looked straight at him and said, “I’m not very hip.”

In the background, Dick started snickering as Jason choked on his laughter. Bruce, though – Bruce went still. Bat still – the kind he only got in two situations. One, if he was about to drop into a fight. Two, when one of his kids made an exceptionally bad joke. The second often came before the Heavy Sigh of Exasperated Dad. “Your hip is injured,” he inferred, returning to the matter at hand. “What else can you tell us about the injury?”

Smirking, he complained, “Help, I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.”

The snickering turned into near-hysterical giggles. Jason was wheezing under the helmet. And there was the Heavy Sigh of Exasperated Dad.

“Someone call Life Alert!” Dick gasped out through his giggling.

“Fucking hell, kid,” Jason managed. “You little fucking shit. We were worried about your goddamn ass, and here you are, making shitty jokes like you’re Nightwing.”

“Hey!”

Bruce shook his head. “Your hip might be broken. Let’s–”

Dick cut off their father. “That’s so sad,” he choked out past his widening grin, “Oracle, play ‘Hips Don’t Lie’.”

Bruce froze. Tim watched with glee as Jason sunk to the floor, his wheezing turning into the high-pitched keening of someone laughing without air. And then – because Babs was the Actual Best – the song started playing over the comm line.

Ah, there it was: the second Heavy Sigh of Exasperated Dad, almost entirely drowned out by Shakira’s “Hips Don’t Lie”.

“Why,” he asked, long-suffering. “Why do you do this to me? Just… you two, get to the Batmobile. I'll get Red.”

Tim raised an eyebrow behind the mask. “You’re the one that chose to be a father. Really, you should have expected this.”

Bruce tilts his head, his own equivalent of a raised eyebrow when he’s in the cowl. “Oh, I’m supposed to expect my children to reference memes and make jokes when one has broken a hip. That’s what I was supposed to be prepared for, when I decided to take in a grieving child. The parenting books never warned me about that.” He leaned down and tried to carefully pick Tim up, as Tim gritted his teeth against the pain. In the background, “Hips Don’t Lie” faded away.

Over the comm, Jason scoffed. “As if you ever read any parenting books.”

“I know for a fact that you didn’t,” Dick added. “Agent A made enough pointed comments about it that I know you didn’t. Also, I call shotgun.”

“You can have shotgun over my cold, dead body, you dick!” Jason snapped.

“First of all, stop joking about your death! Second of all, fuck you, you know the rules! Hood, get back here! I fucking called shotgun as soon as the Batmobile was in view, respect the fucking rules!”

“You’ll have to drag me out!”

“Red Robin gets shotgun,” Batman cut in.

Tim looked at Bruce blankly. “One, Red Robin is staying out of this, as one of them has already tried to kill me before. Two, Red Robin has a broken hip and needs to be in the backseat, because there is no way in hell I can sit upright very well right now.”

“For shame, B,” Dick sighed. “Hood, I swear to fucking god, get the fuck out of shotgun! Batmaaaaan, Hood isn’t following the ruuuules!”

Tim felt the Heavy Sigh that time. Damn, three in one night? They were doing pretty well. “That’s not really anything new, though, is it?” Tim snarked.

“You wanna fuckin’ go, punk?” Jason called back.

Closer now, Tim could see as Dick shook his head in over-dramatic disappointment. “I can’t believe you, Hood. Breaking the Sacred Rules of Calling Shotgun. Threatening to fight a kid with a broken hip. What would Agent A say?”

“Oh shit.” Tim whispered, grinning, “you’re gonna be in trouble.”

Jason growled back over the line, apparently kicking out at Dick from his spot in shotgun. “Fuck you, I’m an adult!”

Someone hummed on the comm line. “Would you care to repeat that?” Alfred said, as calmly as ever.

At the same time, Dick grabbed Jason’s leg to pull him from the Batmobile. Both things caused Jason to squawk as he landed on his ass on the ground. “No, Agent A. Sorry, Agent A. Hey, that is not fair, I got there first! I have longer legs, and you’re gonna stick me in the back?!”

Bruce stopped for a second, watching the chaos of Dick trying to get into the passenger seat by climbing over Jason, who was still laying on the ground, while Jason kept grabbing his legs and pulling him back out. Tim watched Bruce, waiting. Wondering.

Bruce inhaled and–

Jason and Dick both froze as they heard the fourth Heavy Sigh of the night.

“Is… is that a record?” Jason asked, in a reverent whisper.

“I don’t know,” Dick replied, just as awed.

Tim smirked. “Robin and I have managed seven in one night.”

“What?!” Dick shrieked.

“How?!”

Bruce only looked tiredly upon his eldest sons. “Robin and Red Robin,” he said, as though that was enough explanation. Tim had to admit, it kind of was. No need to mention that it was only for show now, more for the purpose of antagonizing their family than anything else. Cass knew, because Cass always knew, but she only giggled whenever she witnessed their fights.

Jason and Dick stared at each other, Dick’s leg still caught in Jason’s grasp. “We can probably get at least five before we get back to the Cave,” Dick muttered lowly, as though the comm wasn’t picking up everything he said.

“Done,” Jason said. “But I still got here first so stop trying to claim shotgun.”

“Hmmm, nope. I called it as soon as the Batmobile was in view. Them’s the rules, little brother.”

Jason snarled. “I’m taller than you! I need the extra leg space more!”

“You are barely taller than me, and not enough to really matter for leg space.”

Batman carefully put Tim down so he was stretched out along the length of the backseat and climbed in the driver's seat. “How is it,” he began, “that Red Robin, your younger brother, is acting more mature than both of you.”

Jason and Dick both stared at Bruce in utter betrayal. Then Jason looked back at Dick. “Go share the backseat with Red, you’re the oldest. He’s in pain. He needs his big brother to tell him it’s okay.”

“God no,” Tim muttered. He did not want Dick’s smothering right now.

Dick gasped, head snapping to stare at Tim. “Holy shit, I didn’t even think about that! Red, does it hurt a lot? You need a hug.”

Plans for revenge were already forming in Tim’s mind as Dick climbed in the backseat with him, letting Tim lean back against him. Dick’s arms wrapped around Tim in what some considered a hug and others considered an inescapable hold. A hand was already carding through his hair and his oldest brother reassured him that they’d be back at the Cave soon. Jason was snickering from the passenger seat.

Dick needed a distraction.

“Hey, O?” Tim asked, “Can you connect to the Batmobile? You probably already know what I’m thinking.”

“Sure thing Red,” Barbara smirked. He knew she did – he could hear it. Through the speakers in the car, “Hips Don’t Lie” started playing, again.

Tim didn’t miss Bruce’s hands tightening on the steering wheel, probably refraining from sighing again. Of course, now that he knew they were actively trying to antagonize him, it was going to be a lot harder.

As Tim expected, with Shakira blaring out of the speakers, Dick and Jason joined in on the singing. Loudly and off-key. A grin stretched across his face. Normally, he’d join in, but the pain was a bit too much for him to do that. That was fine, Bruce was getting twitchy enough as it was.

There was still no sigh yet, though. No matter how terribly Dick and Jason sang along, even going so far as to be off-beat, Bruce only twitched. At least, until the Spanish came.

“You know Spanish,” Bruce whispered, pained, as Jason sang English words that sounded just similar enough. Dick was doing the same, but without coordination, they were singing different words, creating the sound of pure chaos. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“You only have yourself to blame,” Tim snickered.

The fifth Heavy Sigh of Exasperated Dad cut the awful singing off so Dick and Jason could scream their victory. Tim regretted nothing as he slammed his head back into Dick’s chin.

“Ow! Reeed, whyyyy?” Dick whined, leaning his head back away from Tim.

Tim would have twisted around to glare at him if that didn’t seem like a Bad Plan. “You yelled in my fucking ear! What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“We’re here,” Bruce called desperately, dragging himself out of the car. “Please, boys, please. Just… stop. It’s been a long night. Take pity on your old man.”

“Eh, I’m gonna go the fuck to sleep anyway,” Jason shrugged as he climbed out. “We succeeded in our goal. Have fun with the broken hip, Timmers! Night!” Tim watched him go, incredulous. A broken hip wasn’t what he’d call “fun” – despite the jokes and references that could be made.

Dick helped Bruce get him out of the car, and then smirked. “Your new ringtone is ‘Hips Don’t Lie’, just so you know. Night, Timmy!”

Tim watched his brothers leave, beginning to twitch himself. “I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

“You’ll never be hip again,” deadpanned Bruce.

#batfam #batfamily shenanigans #batkids shenanigans series #puns #fanfiction #crack fic #elyrey writes things #tim drake #dick grayson #jason todd #bruce wayne #dcu #batman #red robin #red hood #nightwing

19 notes · View notes

softforcal · 5 years

Text

Wild One : Prince!Luke

Summary: Prince AU in a reality where it’s modern but there are lots royal families ruling over small kingdoms. Luke is a flamboyant Prince with a reputation for being wild and a dick to everyone he meets. you’re a Princess and your families want you and Prince Luke to pretend to be in a relationship to make his reputation better with his impending coronation. this is practically princess diaries 2 fam. (Harry Styles makes a cameo because im a slut)

Warnings: okay so there are 4 or 5 steamy scenes. they’re each different but this is smut so: choking, spanking, dom Luke, a tad breeding kink, that sort of thing. slow burn, angst.

Word count: 14.5k

Note: this is a personal attack on @glitterprincelu. also, every link in this fic is for the same video because i am a hoe for it.

Here’s a taste so you know what you’re getting into:

Luke forced a similar smile, “you’re right sweetheart, i might be, but i’m sure you’ve heard other things, havent you?” his eyes bore into yours and you fidgeted in your seat slightly, “yes darling you know exactly what i’m talking about.” his voice lowered to something near a growl, “well let me make things clear for you. i’m a sex god. i fuck who i want, when i want, and the girls are grateful to have even a moment of my attention. they beg for it. my room had to be sound proofed so my name wouldn't ring through the hallways every night. the girls who i haven’t fucked, would give anything to have a chance at me and the one’s who have? well they would kill to have me again because the rumours are true baby, i’m that good.” your smile faltered slightly and Luke’s widened, “so if you’re going to talk about what you’ve heard of me, don’t cherry pick darling, you’ll be sorry if you do.”

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

It was two in the afternoon by the time Luke entered the palace, waltzing past the security as he dropped his large fur jacket on the ground, taking off his sunglasses and throwing them, there were always more where that came from.

“Luke!” His mother called as he began walking up the stairs to his room, “I need to talk to you.”

Luke stopped and let out a loud groan, “can’t it wait till later?”

The look his mother gave him said no as he sighed and followed her into the large living room area, flopping his long body onto a couch so he could kick off his gold boots and rub at his eyes, hands coming back speckled in sparkles.

splayed across the coffee table were tabloids. “this one’s new.” Luke grinned, picking up a magazine that showed him leaving the club with his arms around two models, a birthday hat on his head and his shirt missing, “they believed me when i said it was my birthday.”

“i’m sure that’s not true.” His mother sighed, eyes going down to the magazine covers as a look of distaste flashed across her face, “you’ve made quite a spectacle of yourself this month Luke.”

“been having fun.” he shrugged, tossing the magazine down as he studied the other covers.

The one from the month before when his buddy, ‘Prince Daddy Ashton’ as all the ladies call him, bought a yacht and proceeded to throw a week long rager on board. someone had leaked a picture of Luke wearing a captain’s hat and spraying two bottles of champagne all over a crowd of girls in bikinis.

then, of course, there was the cover that showed him in his beautiful golden crown and red cape getting a blowjob. that one had taught Luke that open windows were not a good idea when he had ladies over, it had also significantly tightened the on-ground security measures. it had been quite the scandal and no matter how many times Luke insisted that it was a one time thing and the girl had suggested it, people didn’t believe him.

Not that he cared at all. Luke was confident in himself and his life style. Being young, beautiful, filthy rich and royal had its perks.

“Do i need to worry about a new cover tomorrow? i’m sure your escapade last night was less than discrete.” his mother sighed.

Luke shrugged, “it was pretty tame.” he rubbed at his eyes again, more glitter transferring to his hand.

“your neck says otherwise my love.”

Luke laughed, “shit, forgot about that.” a small sound of movement drew his blue eyes to the door as a maid walked in, “you, whiskey, neat.” he said, snapping his fingers.

“he’ll have coffee.” his mother interjected, smiling nicely at the maid who scurried away.

Luke groaned loudly, “what do you want with me mother.” he only ever called her mother when he was hung over, which had been happening more and more frequently as of late, “i’m tired.”

“Your father is stepping down at the end of the year.” she stated.

“pfff.” Luke rolled his eyes, “as if.”

“I’m not joking Luke.”

“well what does this have to do with me, i’m sure Ben is ecstatic, he’ll finally be king-”

“Ben won’t be king, he did not score highest on the aptitude test.” Luke’s mother sighed.

the Aptitude Test. Luke hated it. some dumb test to see if a royal would be fit to rule. Every royal was forced to take the test at age eighteen. in families like Luke’s with multiple children under a King and Queen, whichever child scored highest would become ruler upon the parent’s retirement. upon initial retirement request by the king or queen, the test scores of the children would be revealed to the royal family to allow coronation preparation.

“well, then Jack-” Luke began, eye brows furrowing in confusion.

“you scored the highest.” Luke’s mother interrupted.

Luke laughed, “that’s impossible. I can’t be king-”

“you will be king.” His mother stated.

Never in the history of the aptitude test had a child who scored highest not become ruler. the aptitude test was law, the most important royal law.

But Luke had lived his entire life knowing he would never be king.

It was like all the air had been knocked out of his lungs as Luke doubled over, feet planting firmly on the ground as he ran his fingers through his hair, “fuck.”

“i wish this wasn’t the case, it’s less than ideal.” his mother began, “but we have to adapt. we have a few months to change your image so when the coronation is finally announced and it is revealed that you will be king, people won’t be as opposed to it.”

Luke began searching his pockets for his flask and he let out a sigh of relief when he found it, opening it to put it to his lips before his mother grabbed it and pulled it away, “for starters, no more drinking.”

“you’ve got to be fucking me.”

“no more swearing.”

“but-”

“no more but’s, Luke.” she said, reaching over and lifting the summoning bell she rang it twice and a group of people came with stacks of folders.

Luke recognized the Public Relations team, they’d tried to micromanage him when he turned the legal drinking age but had given up long ago.

“what the fuc-”

“Luke.”

“what the heck is going on?” Luke corrected himself with a groan as someone handed him the folders.

“we think it’s best if you’re seen with a steady woman. someone proper who can keep you on a tight leash.” his mother explained, “in these folders are details on all of the Princesses who would be suitable-”

“thought you were a Queen not a pimp.”

“Luke.” his mother said sternly.

“i can’t say pimp now?” Luke asked, opening one of the folders.

His mother stood, “just, look through the folders Luke. we need a decision by tonight.”

----

Luke groaned as he rolled around in his silk sheets, grabbing at the plush fur blanket before sitting up and feeling around for his phone. He messaged the kitchen staff, telling them what he wanted for dinner to be delivered to his room.

his eyes went to the stack of folders splayed out on the foot of his bed and he groaned, opening one. he recognized the first Princess, even met her once or twice but she was always looking down at him. he threw her folder on the ground, grabbing the next one.

the folders described basic information, likes, dislikes, that sort of thing. if they seemed okay, Luke would look the Princess up on instagram and scroll through their posts.

his dinner arrived and he ate it while looking through the rest of the folders. the last one he picked up said your name on it. he’d heard of you before and when he opened your folder he knew why, you were beautiful. he’d heard of you from a few of his buddies. Ashton was always trying to flirt with you and even Cal and Michael agreed that you were super cool but none of them had managed to woo you.

it was a no brainer for Luke in that moment. he threw on a long red silk robe and pulled his hair back into a messy bun, grabbing your folder and leaving his room.

Luke’s first stop was the kitchen where he grabbed a bottle of whiskey and poured himself a glass, then he went off to find his mother. she was in her office, as usual.

her eyes went to his hands, the chipped red nail polish and the long, once pianist fingers, holding the glass of whiskey. but if there was anything Luke’s mother knew, it was when to pick her battles and this was not one worth picking.

he tossed the folder onto her desk and took a seat across from her, taking a sip of his drink and grinning at the burn that seared through his throat.

his mother opened the folder and looked up at Luke, “good choice.” she said, “i’ll contact her family and see if we can make this work.”

---

It had been a long week for Luke. His mother had enforced a house arrest on Luke, especially after he made headlines yet again with a picture of a girl straddling him in the club and sucking on his neck.

the PR team had extensively briefed him on all the rules of the ‘relationship’. what he could do and not do.

he was allowed one shot, no more than one, per two hours with a maximum of five shots a day spread out over ten hours if absolutely necessary.

one beer equals one shot, same restrictions applied.

no drugs. except cigarettes but only in specially designated areas on palace grounds where no one could get a picture, and only two per day.

the two of you would go on two public dates in the first week, three on the second, with a steady rate of two to four public appearances each week.

“what about sex?” Luke had asked.

“if you must, invite girls to the palace but there will be absolutely no interaction with any woman but Y/N in public. and any girl you bring over has to sign a confidentiality agreement upon entering the palace, through the back gate.”

“brilliant, so you’re cock blocking me too.”

“just get them to sign the confidentiality form.” the PR head said, sliding Luke a folder full of official looking documents, each with their own area for a different signature.

“Y/N will be staying at the five star hotel down the street for the entirety of the relationship. prior to each date you will be given information on the restaurants or outings you two will be doing, as well as an itinerary. body guards will accompany you everywhere you go and they are instructed to keep you away from all the before mentioned vices that you are accustomed to.”

“and one final thing Prince Luke, we have assigned you a stylist-”

“i can dress myself.” Luke stated.

“Prince Luke-”

“i said, i can freaking dress myself, thank you very much.” and with that, he left the room to go get ready for his ‘date.’

---

Luke’s black boot tapped against the white marble floor as he fidgeted with the legacy ring on his thumb before running a hand through his wild tangle of golden curls. dressed in black suit pants and a black silk button up, Luke didn’t feel entirely out of place with the five star restaurant he was sitting in.

okay, maybe the choker was an extra, unnecessary touch, but if his mother was able to draw the line at glitter highlighter on the first date, then he’d be damned if he showed up without something to stand out with.

the sound of heels on marble drew his attention up as you entered the restaurant, a waiter showing you over to the table.

you looked ravishing. dressed in a beautiful silky dress that hugged all the right curves, Luke’s eyes immediately began undressing you. he stood abruptly, his awkwardly long legs almost knocking over the table as he muttered “fuck” but composed himself so he could open his arms for a hug.

you grinned brilliantly as you tucked into his arms, fitting perfectly.

Luke allowed himself to relish in the feeling for a moment before pulling away and motioning for you to sit down.

he sat across from you, “if i didn’t know better, i would think you’re actually happy to be here.” he stated.

you smiled, “all for the pictures darling.”

“so i’m Luke.”

“Y/N. you signed the contract?”

“yeah. you?”

“yup.”

“what are you getting out of this?” he asked, lifting up a menu, eyes scanning over it.

“well, i can only assume that because of your need for a public imagine cleansing, it’s likely that when your father retires, which im guessing is soon... it seems like you won the aptitude test.” you answered, not looking up at him as you scanned the menu.

you had the whole thing figured out and Luke laughed, “you’re smart. your folder didn’t say you were smart.”

you let out a beautiful laugh that rang through the restaurant, drawing eyes as people admired the two beautiful royals at dinner. “bet there’s a lot of things my folder didn’t say.”

“good point.” Luke snapped his fingers which drew your attention as a waiter scurried over, “we’ll have your best bottle of wine.” he stated.

“very good sir, anything else?”

“the wine will be fine for now.” you answered before Luke could say anything else.

as the waiter scurried away Luke grinned sheepishly, “wine is something civilized people drink right?”

“oh definitely.” you said sarcastically, “your folder left out the part about you snapping your fingers to get people’s attention.”

“someone made a folder about me?” Luke burst out laughing, “what else did it say?”

“nothing good.” you answered, “now, if we’re going to be seen together, you can’t snap your fingers to get what you want anymore. i won’t have it.”

Luke’s eyes narrowed at you. one date in and you were already making rules. rules on top of the rules he already had. and Luke did not like it. not one bit. “fine. if you don’t want me to snap my fingers then you have to wave down the help.”

“wow, you really are the pompous, arrogant, mama’s boy everyone says you are.” your words cut like knives but the beautiful smile remained fixed on your face.

you could feel your heart pounding in your chest as your eyes flickered over the gorgeous blondes face, you opened your mouth to say something when the waiter came back with the wine.

he showed you the bottle and poured you each a modest class before setting the bottle in the middle of the table, “have you two decided on dinner?”

Luke ordered the most expensive thing on the menu, specifying a bunch of different alterations on it before the waiter turned to you and accepted your order as well.

meanwhile, Luke swirled his wine around before drinking the entire thing, setting his glass down and filling it again.

as the waiter left, you sighed, “i thought your contract specified your alcohol intake.”

“mentioned beer and shots but not wine.” he answered. great, so the whole ‘wine is what civilized people drink’ was fake.

He swirled his wine around and you watched him, thinking about the way your heart was still beating in your chest like you’d just run a marathon.

He was right. You had heard about him. You’d heard about the orgies and the threesomes, his extravagant sexual antics that always somehow ended up in the news. you’d heard about the models and the movie stars, the songs written about him.

One of the songs was a bop about ‘the golden haired diva’ and it had been obvious who it was about, especially when the artist won an award for it and thanked the Prince, who had been sitting in the audience with his arms around two different pop singers and just grinned when the camera panned to him.

he was the world’s favourite rich, bad boy.

and sitting there in that restaurant you saw the allure. part of you wanted to do something, anything, that would get him to speak to you in that low voice again. part of you wanted to see what would happen if you asked him to join you at your hotel later. but the part of you that grew up a Princess knew how to keep composure as you set your hands in front of you, interlocking your fingers.

“we should think of something to talk about.” you suggested, “after all, we have to be together for a few months.”

“tell me some secrets.” he suggested, sipping his wine.

“like what?” you laughed.

“dirty secrets.” he grinned at you over the rim of his glass, “a girl who looks like you can’t be as prim and proper as you seem, something tells me you’re into some dirty shit, aren't you babe?.”

you sighed, maintaining your smile, “wasn’t ‘no swearing’ on your contract?”

“didn’t answer the question darling.”

you reached out and grabbed your wine, taking a sip to hopefully loosen up a bit, “this is good,” you noted, setting it down, you rested your face on your hand, looking at the beautiful boy in front of you.

this was one of those moments. you could either choose to let loose and break the ice, answer all his dirty questions, or you could put up a wall and make life more difficult for both of you.

“why don’t you tell me what you think I like?” you suggested, cocking your head at him with a grin.

he studied your red lips. the way they matched your beautiful red dress. hell, even your nails matched. you were an absolute vision. and there was this big expanse of space between the two of you: the table.

Luke had never had to hold himself back before. girls were always throwing themselves at him, never keeping themselves at a distance. you were unattainable and part of it made him want you like nothing he’d ever wanted in his life. his eyes trailed down to your collarbones and the way the dress accentuated your cleavage, moving slightly up and down with each breath.

he set down his wine and leaned forward, voice dipping low again, “tell me when i’m getting close, Princess. you like a guy who can rough you up a little, someone not afraid to take charge, when you’re in the frisky mood, a little bit of choking, nothing too extreme, but i think that’s just because you’ve never met the right guy who could introduce you to the darker side of sex, the fun side.”

“and you’re that guy?”

Luke leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out so one of his feet brushed yours under the table, he shrugged, “i am, but something tells me you don’t have the guts to fully let loose and i’m not down to share control so unless you’re one hundred percent ready to submit completely, it’s not worth my time.”

what a fucking dick. he’s gorgeous, but wow.

“oh yeah? well how about i analyze you and we’ll see how much you like it?” you asked, “you like control because you have a constant need to prove yourself. you grew up the youngest of three children and you never thought you’d be good enough so you made sure you could be the best at things that are important to other people, so... sex. but you don’t want anyone to question you ever. you only go for girls who are submissive because they won’t talk back and hurt your fragile ego.”

Luke rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest but you continued.

“you’re a mama’s boy and everything has been handed to you your entire life. girls throw themselves and are easy because you’re cute and have money so you’ve never had to actually work for anything, which means, any girl who isn’t ‘one hundred percent ready to submit completely’ is probably effort and you don’t know what effort even is which scares the shit out of you. because you don’t think you’d actually be able to get a girl not already falling head over heals for you.” you grinned as he narrowed his eyes at you, “aw, was that too close to home for you baby?”

he was eerily still for a few moments before he downed his glass of wine and stood, “i’ll be back.” he stated, turning and heading off in the direction of the bathroom.

you had been harsh. but he had suggested you weren’t worth his time. And you had been warned that he was an asshole with no experience with female royals, no strong women to contend against him.

the waiter returned with your food and you realized Luke had been gone a while. you sighed, motioning the waiter over, “Hello, i’m so sorry, my friend was feeling a little sick, I’m just going to go check on him, I’ll be right back.”

“of course Princess Y/N.” the waiter smiled, “the bathroom is this way.”

he led you to the mens room and you thanked him before opening the door and peering in. it was a posh, five star restaurant, which meant that they had a full on couch and fireplace in the bathroom.

Luke was sitting on the couch with his phone in one hand and a cigarette in the other. “your food came out.” you stated, drawing his attention from his phone.

“men’s room darling, you can’t be in here.” He said absentmindedly.

“we can get the food to go but we need to be seen leaving together.” you explained.

he stood up abruptly and approached you as you stepped back and bumped into the closed door, you realized how tall he was. towering over you, even while you were in heals. his shoulders broad and the first few buttons of his black silk shirt undone, exposing the tiniest bit of chest hair that worked to make him more manly in an almost animalistic way. a choker wrapped around his neck that drew attention his chiseled jaw, just slightly covered in golden stubble.

he stepped closer and you bit at your lip, wondering what he would do. he leaned in, and you held your breath, “you’re blocking the door.” he said, his breath brushing over your skin and causing goose bumps to appear as he stepped back and allowed you to move out of his way.

He opened the door and grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers with yours as he pulled you out of the bathroom. everyone in the restaurant watched the two of you head back to your seats and you sighed, this was not a good start to his public image.

Luke even pulled out your chair for you as you sat down before going back to his own. You both ate in silence and the waiter cleared your plates, “would you like a dessert menu tonight?”

“Yes.” Luke answered.

“thank you.” you said, eying Luke as the waiter left.

“dessert?” you asked.

“it will look good on camera if we share a dessert.” he stated.

even you couldn’t argue with that. The waiter brought back the menu and Luke handed it to you, “choose whatever you want.”

you sighed loudly as you looked at the menu, choosing something then handing the menu back to the waiter who left again.

your eyes went to Luke’s hands, fingers playing with the stem of his glass. “you should have a professional do your nails sometime. they won’t chip as easily.”

“i like it when they chip. it’s edgy. goes with my look.”

he just sat there and stared at you and you met his gaze, refusing to back down or apologize. you both stayed like that until the dessert was placed between the two of you.

Luke picked up a spoon, taking a small piece and holding it out to you, “wanna taste?”

you forced a smile, leaning across the table (something that you were fully aware gave him a beautiful view of your cleavage that was practically popping out of your dress) your lips closed around the spoon as you accepted him feeding you.

he watched your pretty lips on the spoon and he felt his already tight pants getting tighter as he grinned and pulled the spoon away.

Luke took a scoop for himself and put the spoon in his own mouth, sucking everything off while staring directly at you. there was something so oddly erotic about it.

you felt your skin flush as you looked down, not wanting to meet his eyes anymore.

you reached for your spoon but Luke grabbed it before you could, he made a tutting sound at you, “not a chance Princess.”

“seriously?” you asked, “you’re going to hand feed me this entire thing?”

“uh huh.”

Luke knew it wasn't a good idea. he knew you were already driving him wild. he knew that if he continued down this path... well, blue balls were not on Luke’s list of top favourite things. but he could see the way it was affecting you too, and he’d be damned if he gave up on the satisfaction of that.

-----

Luke leaned down and kissed the first girl as the second one finished signing the consent form. as she set down the pen, Luke turned to the second one, kissing her as well before ushering them out the door to where a guard would escort them off the property, he gave girl number one a final pat on the bum and a cheeky grin, ignoring his PR assistant’s disgusted face.

that’s when his phone rang. Luke padded down the marble hallway, answering the call, “sup?”

“have you seen the magazines?”

“no Ash, i just woke up.” Luke said, yawning loudly and putting his phone on speaker so he could hear better.

“you’re all over the cover.” Ashton stated, “you and Y/N. I didn’t know the two of you were seeing each other.”

Luke stopped walking, turning to look at his PR assistant who was following him like a puppy. in that moment, Luke could honestly not remember whether or not he was allowed to tell his friends.

the PR Assistant began to shake his head but Luke said: “yeah. i went out with Y/N yesterday.”

“and you fed her dessert.” Ashton interjected, “please tell me she put out for you.”

Luke’s gaze went to his assistant who was shaking his head vigorously, “uhhh... no?”

“you don’t sound too certain bro, how drunk were you?” Ashton laughed.

“uhhh....” Luke focused on reading his assistants lips but sighed, “wasn’t drunk. it was just a date.”

“there’s a picture of you leaving the bathroom together, i gotta be honest, i never pegged Y/N for a public sex kind of girl.”

“she’s not.” Luke answered immediately and his assistant let out a sigh of relief, at least he got that response correct, “Look, Ash, it’s not a big deal.”

“well when are you bringing her out for boys night?”

Luke opened his mouth when his assistant started vigorously shaking his head and making an ‘X’ sign with his arms and Luke sighed, remembering the ‘no partying’ part of the contract, “there’s a lot going on right now.” he said as his assistant typed out something for him to read, Luke’s eyes scanned the words as he read them out loud “and i’m trying to focus on this new relationship, so I might not see you for a while.” Luke rolled his eyes at his assistant.

“pfff, lame, are you bringing her to the gala next month?”

Luke’s assistant nodded, “uh, yes.”

“cool, see you there mate. great job.” the line went dead.

“Prince Luke, the nature of this relationship being PR can only be known to those signing a contract but due to the nature of Prince Ashton’s place in society i find it unadvisable to tell him or anyone else of his stature due to the fact that a breach of contract lawsuit will mean nothing to another royal family if they choose to expose the relationship as PR to ruin your reputation.”

“it’s too early for so many big words.” Luke groaned, “i’m going back to sleep.”

“you have a date with Princess L/N in an hour.” his assistant called.

“of course i do, better wash the smell of pussy from my breath eh?” he grinned at his assistant who scowled, “something tells me Y/N would hate that.”

____

The dates continued two to four times a week as contractually stated. Mostly at five star restaurants or with the two of you going for walks in public places, flanked by body guards.

after your brutal analysis of him, Luke stayed away from sexual topics. opting to hold his tongue as best he could.

You brought up political topics and part of Luke assumed that perhaps you had been told to do so, to get him ready to converse with other educated people about such topics.

Between you, the PR briefings and the royal briefings Luke found himself with not much time on his hands. He missed partying. He missed drinking until he was numb. but most importantly, he missed the girls.

or, parts of him did. but after the first two weeks of girls signing a consent form, the idea of it had left a sour taste in his mouth.

especially when the girls brought you up in conversation. Delphi, one of his favourite usual shags had been curled against his chest in a post sex daze when she asked “does Princess Y/N know about this?”

his heart had lurched at the sound of her name and his jaw had set as he stood, putting on his robe and going to grab himself a shot before leaning against one of the bed posts, “get dressed.” he’d commanded.

“Luke, i’m sorry if-”

“Prince Luke.” he reminded her, “and I don’t want to hear it. you already signed the consent form last time you were here and you know your way out.”

he’d gone onto the terrace without another word, swirling the whiskey in his glass.

he didn’t know why it upset him so much.

maybe it was because he’d never really had a girlfriend before, fake or otherwise. it had been two weeks and he’d spent a lot of his time with you. whether he considered you a friend or not, part of him cared about you in a way he’d never really experienced.

it made his grip on the terrace railing tighten as his jaw clenched. you had power over him. and he didn’t like it one bit.

------

Luke tried not to pay much attention to the feeling of your small hand wrapped around his arm while the two of you looked at fabric. he was bored out of his mind, yes he liked fashion but usually his tailors would just send him a bunch of clothes every month and he’d wear what he felt like.

but there he was, shopping with you. he didn’t get why you didn’t just do the same thing he did... but the smile on your face as you ran a hand through the fabrics, looking at everything, he guessed you just enjoyed shopping.

you pulled out a dress, removing your hand from his arm which suddenly felt cold from lack of contact, “what do you think?” you asked, showing it to him.

“it’s nice.” he stated.

“you’ve said that about the past four.” you sighed, handing the dress to the worker that hurried over to add it to your change room.

“they were all fine, gotta see what they look on your hot little bod.” he smirked.

you rolled your eyes, walking over to the change room with him trailing behind you. he leaned against the wall while you entered the changing room. his foot tapped while he waited as he began fiddling with his rings.

the door opened and he looked up, eyes eating up every inch of your body. the dress was stunning. it looked like it had been made for you.

“i need help with the zipper.” you said, turning to show him your exposed back as your hands held up the dress in the front.

he almost stumbled as he approached, flexing his fingers as they went down to the bottom of the zipper. he began to zip it up but your hair was in the way.

his fingers brushed against your skin lightly as he pushed the hair over your shoulder, his hot breath on the new exposed skin. he zipped up the dress and took his hands away, eyes looking up to meet yours through the mirror in front of you.

his heart leaped in his chest, having not realized you’d been watching him.

the tension was so thick it could have been cut with a knife, his eyes devouring you through the mirror.

“what do you think of the colour?” you asked, fingers skimming over the green material.

“looks-” his voice cracked and he cleared his throat, “looks good.”

“i’m going to wear this gala next week, with a few alterations. is that okay?”

“sure.”

his eyes looked down and you knew he was checking out your ass so you immediately turned around, misjudging how close the tall blonde was standing next to you. your chest bumped against his and you took a hesitant step back, wobbling on your heals as his hands immediately went to your waist to steady you.

you looked up at him and he opened his mouth but you cut him off, “stop.”

“stop what?” he asked.

eye brows furrowing slightly and you marvelled at how beautiful he was. a slight brush of glitter across one of his cheekbones, those crystal blue eyes, and one rogue strand of curly golden hair.

it would have been the easiest thing in the world to close the distance and just kiss him. your breath caught in your throat and you licked at your lips, considering it for a moment.

his eyes looked down at your lips and it snapped you from your daze as you realized you weren’t the only one considering it.

you had to forcibly step back, pulling away from his hands, “just... unzip me please.” you said, turning around again and looking down, “and no funny business.”

“wouldn’t fucking dream of it.” he grumbled after an exasperated breath, zipping your dress down with one hand then turning and leaving the change room and closing the door behind him.

---

the week passed and you spent each date trying to ignore him the best you could. but he made it very difficult. you touched him only when necessary, when the photographers were around. you kept the conversations short, brief, and about non-sex related topics, which was not easy, but anytime the conversation started going that way you would redirect it.

Luke waited outside your hotel in the limo that would take you to the ball. the limo door opened and you got in across from him, eyes scanning over his outfit as the driver closed the door behind you.

“you got a shirt to match my dress.” you breathed, noticing the beautiful silky green fabric that fit perfectly over his shoulders.

“oh. yeah.” he said, looking down at himself, “that’s a thing people do right?”

“yeah. it is.” you found yourself smiling. really smiling at him.

and he noticed. because you smiled different when you were actually happy. he had thought your fake smile was gorgeous but looking at you in that moment he realized he hadn’t seen anything truly gorgeous until that moment.

“you look good.” you continued, “but... i think you’re missing one thing.”

“and what’s that darling?” he asked.

you opened your purse, pulling out a makeup palette and a brush, “a little bit of glitter. i figured your mom would not allow it but... it looks good on you, so i thought i’d bring highlighter in case you wanted some.”

Luke’s eyes searched your face, the way you were appearing so shy. the way you’d actually listened when he’d groaned about the sanctions on his wardrobe the week before.

“sure.” he said, moving slightly so you could come sit next to him.

you took the smallest amount of glitter and brushed it across his cheek, eyes focused on your work while he stared into yours, appreciating the colour.

his eyes moved to your lips. he often found himself staring at them. how soft and plump they looked.

if you were anyone else, he would pull you on top of him and have his way with you. he thought about the sounds you’d make as he slipped your panties to the side and teased-

“done.” you said, pulling away and going back to your seat across from him, “there, now you look perfect.”

Luke opened his mouth but the limo door opened, you’d arrived at the ball.

---

you’d been attached to his hip all night. his hand on the small of your back as you greeted all your peers. you kept his drinking to a minimum and oddly enough, he hadn’t minded.

you answered all of the hard questioned and smoothly navigated your way through all sorts of tough discussions on politics, deflecting any negative questions about Luke’s ‘social life.’

Luke found himself watching you effortlessly converse with other royals, how graceful you seemed. but he was getting sort of bored. “Darling, i’m going to grab a drink, want anything?” he asked.

you looked up at him, “maybe a glass of wine.”

“okay.”

you watched him leave before turning back to the people you were talking too but a new group of people were approaching you. you recognized the gang, three of Luke’s friends. among the Royal Bunnies (the girls who made it their mission in life to sleep with royals) this group was called the Pussy Parade.

Calum Hood, Michael Clifford and Ashton Irwin.

“Princess Y/N,” Ashton said, holding out a hand, “pleasure to see you again.”

“where’d Luke run off to?” Calum asked.

“yeah, i wouldn’t leave you alone for a minute if i were him.” Michael piped in.

“matching outfits, quite a statement though.” Ashton pointed out.

you laughed at their eagerness, “nice to see you all again.” you’d met them all once or twice at different royal events but never really talked to any of them.

Luke watched from where he was leaning on the bar, jaw clenching as he tapped his ring clad fingers against the table, “can you hurry?” he snapped at the bar tender, throwing a bill on the counter in the hopes it would light a flame under the mans ass.

his eyes went back to you, surrounded by sharks. his sharks, but sharks none the less.

he hated the way they were all looking you up and down. looking at you like a piece of meat. looking at you like... like he did.

his teeth gritted, “also a shot.” he ordered, throwing another bill on the table.

the shot was placed in front of him and he downed it before grabbing the wine glasses and walking over to where you were standing. “here you go darling.” he said, handing you one.

his free hand immediately went to the small of your back again and you took a sip, eyes widening, “this is the wine from our first date.” you grinned up at him, “you remembered.”

he smiled down at you, a genuine smile that made all of his friends jaws drop, “of course i remembered.”

four sets of eyes widen at this statement. “you can’t even remember my birthday!” Ashton gasped.

Luke rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his wine and shrugging, “you always remind me the week before.”

“he’s got you there bud.” Calum grinned.

“so... how did you two meet?” Michael interrupted.

now was the hard part. Luke wasn’t a fan of lying to his friends but he knew he had to sell this relationship, his hand slipped from the small of your back to your waist, pulling you closer, “i saw her around, thought she was cute, slid into those DM’s, the usual.”

“very romantic.” Calum teased.

you turned your body in towards Luke, tucking your own arm around his waist. in this position, your bodies fit so perfectly and that fact was not lost on you as you stared down his friends, “it was a nice first date.” you insisted.

“yeah, looked like it.” Michael scoffed, “we saw the bathroom pictures.”

you opened your mouth but Luke spoke first, “piss off Michael.”

his strong language drew the attention of the people surrounding your group. “woah, didn’t mean any offence.” Michael said, raising his hands in defence, “just looked like a good time is all i’m saying.”

“this is my girlfriend, watch it.” Luke said, voice lowered as he looked down at Michael. you were once again reminded how big Luke was. his friends were all six foot, at least, but he was still taller. and he was intimidating.

and... he’d called you his girlfriend. which... you were, it even said that ‘girlfriend’ was the preferable term to use when he talked about you, but hearing him actually say it was different. it had been a month and he hadn’t once called you his girlfriend.

“Luke, i think we should take a breather.” you suggested, rubbing your hand up and down his back in an effort to sooth him.

Luke looked down at you then at his friends, slamming the wine and handing the glass to Calum who took it without asking questions as Luke pulled away from you, grabbing your hand and leading you through the crowd outside to one of the terraces.

it was just you and Luke, the air providing a slight but comfortable chill, not yet warm enough to signify the impending summer, but a welcome relief from the temperature inside. “are you okay?” you asked as he let go of your hand and went to lean against the railing, looking out at the city.

you’d been dating a month and part of you would call him a friend but it’s not like the two of you were close and yet something made you approach the tall boy. you began to rub at his tense shoulders, hoping to ease some of the stress.

“they think you’re just a fuck.” he stated, knuckles turning white as he gripped the rail.

“it doesn’t matter what your friends think.” you stated, “in a few months this will be over and you can go back to being leader of the Pussy Party and they won’t even remember this whole thing.”

he remained silent but you felt his muscles tense underneath your hand.

you sighed, “do you want to leave?”

“no.”

“do you want to be alone?”

“no.”

“Luke, can you look at me?”

he remained still for a moment before turning his body to look down at you.

“do you want my wine?” you asked.

he laughed slightly, taking it from your hand and downing it just like the wine he’d drank earlier. before you could tell him to slow down on the alcohol he simply tossed the glass off the terrace, grabbing your face between his hands as he pressed his lips to yours.

he tasted like wine but it intoxicated you as you melted into the kiss, hands going up to wrap around his shoulders. his tongue teased your bottom lip and one of his hands moved to the small of your back, pulling you closer.

your fingers tangled in his hair, something you hadn’t consciously realized you’d wanted to ever do. the curls were soft and you pulled on them slightly, earning a soft groan that you ate up like you were starving. you’d thought his low voice was sexy but those moans were next level.

his teeth sunk into your bottom lip and now it was your turn to moan. the small sound made his heart jump as he let out a breathy “fuck.” his hand moving from your face to your neck where the cold of the rings pressed against your skin. you grabbed at his wrist, not stopping him,

but you pulled away, collecting your breath as you looked down, his heavy panting on your forehead as he struggled to steady his own breathing.

you focused on his green silk shirt. the way he always knew just the perfect amount of buttons to leave open, you wondered what his chest would look like fully exposed and on show for you. your fingers played with the fabric just above his belt, teasing the sensitive skin just above the band. he swore again and you pressed your face into his shirt as his arms wrapped around your body, pulling you against his chest.

his skin was warm and he smelt like expensive cologne.

you both just stood there for a few moments, the sound of your facing heart drowning out the noise of the city bellow. you could feel his own pulse fluttering in his chest.

“shit.” a voice made you pull away from Luke as you both turned to see Calum standing at the doorway to the terrace, “I uhhh... didn’t mean to interrupt, just needed a smoke.” he waved the cigarette as proof.

“it’s fine.” you smiled, fixing your dress and hair, “i should go inside-”

“i’m going to stay out here.” Luke stated, voice deadpan.

you didn’t look at Luke, afraid what you would see in his eyes if you did, so you brushed past Calum and went inside. Calum watched you go before stepping further onto the terrace, lighting his cigarette and taking a large puff, “wasn’t sure if it was real or not.” he breathed, the smoke disappearing into the air as he handed Luke the cigarette.

Luke brought it to his lips, taking a long drag, “if whats real?”

“you and Y/N.” Calum answered, “i mean she’s cute but we both know you don’t do commitment.”

Luke couldn't argue with that. he couldn’t think much about anything as he stood there next to Calum, sharing the cigarette.

maybe it was because you were a challenge. yeah, that had to be it. it had to be. he wasn’t used to not getting what he wanted. yeah. that was it.

he’d just have to fuck you. then he’d be fine. that was a good plan.

Calum finished the cigarette and threw it off the terrace then they both went back inside. you were at the bar with Ashton and Michael and once again Luke felt a surge of anger flow through his body.

his hand went to the small of your back, “i think i’m ready to leave darling.”

you nodded, telling the boys it was nice to see them again before you allowed Luke to lead you to the elevator. he leaned against the wall and you were both silent until you reached the first floor. you stayed silent the entire limo ride, until it stopped in front of your hotel. and then you were gone and Luke remained numb because it was easier than acknowledging the feelings and the thoughts.

----

it had been four days since the gala and Luke hadn’t seen you. things kept popping up in your schedule which was understandable. but he needed to see you.

he was already dressed when his PR assistant knocked on his door, “Y/N canceled.”

“like fuck she did.” Luke muttered, pushing past the assistant.

it was a short walk to your hotel and Luke realized he didn’t have a plan on what to do once he got there. but Luke had always been lucky and he showed up as you were leaving. “you canceled our plans to go do something else?” he asked, voice making you stop just outside your limo.

“i have something to do-” you began.

“cool, i’ll come with.” he said, brushing past you as he got into the limo. you sighed and followed, “are you mad?” he asked.

you were taken aback by his question. part of you had assumed he wouldn’t want to talk about the gala. you guessed he’d be one of those guys who avoided confrontation and refused to communicate. but there he was, blue eyes on yours.

“i’m not mad.” you assured him, “just busy, as i said, are you mad?”

“no.” he said, looking down and fiddling with his rings.

“do you want to talk about it?” you asked.

“not really.”

there was the Prince you knew. you stayed silent the remainder of the limo ride until you arrived at the house, Luke looked around as you exited the limo, “where are we?”

“my cousins baby turned one year old today, i forgot about it if i’m being honest, a year goes by so fast.” you explained as the limo handed you the big pink present from the trunk of the limo.

“we’re at a babies birthday?” Luke asked.

“yeah, you like children right?” you grinned, walking past him towards the house.

there were children everywhere.

Luke stayed glued to your side, letting you do most of the talking like he had at the Gala. but he also introduced himself to the guests which is when he realized, ‘im meeting her cousin. and her aunt. and her uncle.’

he’d never met a girls family before.

you hadn’t asked him to come.

another realization that made his chest ache. what would he have done if you had? he probably would have bailed.

but there was that genuine smile again. the one he was already starting to adore. you were next to your cousin, holding the baby in your arms.

she tugged at your hair and you beamed down at the baby.

Luke found himself getting jealous of the baby who had all of your attention and all of your smiles.

and his chest continued to hurt but he didn’t know why.

your cousins husband approached, leaning next to Luke, “are you two thinking about kids?’ he asked.

Luke choked on his water, sputtering and coughing while your cousins husband patted him on the back until he could breath again, “um, we haven’t been dating long.” he answered.

“oh, sorry, i didn’t realize, i just assumed because well, you’re here and Y/N has never brought a guy to a family event like this. not that guys havent offered to come, we all know they have, but Y/N can be kind of private.”

Luke’s eyes went back to you holding the baby and he winced. now he was thinking about having a baby with you?!

this had been a wild month for Luke, even by his standards. he was confused, and tired and maybe he had a brain tumour or something because if someone had told him two months earlier that he’d be fake dating a girl who is actually super chill and has a beautiful smile and is considering having babies with her he would have said they were fucking crazy. and yet there he was.

you made a particularly cute face at the baby and all the tension Luke had been holding in his shoulders released as he smiled, “babies wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” he muttered. and it was true.

he set down his water and approached you and your cousin, “um... do you mind if i hold her?” he asked.

your cousin smiled, “of course!”

you eyed Luke but slowly handed over the baby and he looked down at her with a grin. the baby reached up, wrapping a hand in one of his golden curls and tugging but Luke allowed her to do so.

he even laughed, an angelic sound that warmed your heart as you watched him. you’d never seen him so vulnerable. no walls up. no sassy or sexual remarks. just a beautiful boy holding an adorable baby.

your heart swelled in your chest and your eyes widened with realization that you probably had baby fever so you couldn’t be trusting yourself, but at the same time he looked so soft.

the baby grabbed at his finger, his chipping black nail polish contrasting the tiny baby hands.

“okay, i’ll give her back now.” he said, moving to hand the baby back to your cousin but the baby began to cry and Luke immediately began cooing, “oh no Sweetheart it’s okay, it’s okay baby,” as he rocked her back and forth.

she settled immediately and your cousin laughed, “looks like you’re a natural Luke.”

a blush crept over his skin and you watched in shock as he grinned at your cousin, “you think?”

this couldn’t be real. this couldn’t be the guy known for raunchy sex parties and having a different woman every night. it couldn’t be.

but it was.

he cooed the baby for a while until she fell asleep before he could give her back to her mama. by the time the baby was back in her mama’s arms you had been internally freaking out for thirty minutes about the absolute cuteness of the whole thing and how confused you were.

you grabbed his hand and took him to the bathroom, closing the door and locking it behind you, “what’s going on?” he asked.

“we kissed.” you stated, “and i’m really confused about it.”

“me too.” he said, looking at you very seriously.

you almost laughed, “okay good i’m not the only one. so... what do you want from me?” you asked.

“what do you mean?”

“i mean, we are on this contract for the next few months and if something goes wrong and we hate each other-”

“wouldn’t happen.”

“it could happen-”

“no.”

“and what makes you sure?”

“i couldn’t hate you.” he says, crossing his arms and leaning back against the sink counter.

“well i could hate you.” you pointed out, “if we make this thing real and you cheat-”

“if we made this real i wouldn’t cheat.”

“just like that.” you asked in shock.

“yeah.”

you looked up at him, considering it, but you groaned, “fuck!” you began pacing in front of him, “being around babies always makes me too soft! i can’t think clearly!” Luke watched you pace and he had to admit he knew the feeling.

“then don’t.” he said, hands grabbing your waist and stopping you from pacing as he leaned down and his lips met yours. you were so distracted by kissing him back, fingers going into his hair, that you hadn’t noticed he’d moved you until he lifted you and set you on the sink counter.

standing between your legs he pulled your body flush against his, his lips moving from your lips to your neck as he sucked on the sensitive skin just below your ear.

you let out a moan and Luke grinned against your skin, “open your mouth.” he stated.

you followed his request as two of his fingers slipped into your mouth, he continued sucking on your neck while you began to suck on his fingers. one of the fingers in your mouth had his legacy ring and your tongue slipped around the cold metal, swirling and sucking it up and over Luke’s knuckle before pushing it down again.

“fuck, where’d a Princess like you learn how to use your mouth like that?” he groaned into your ear, slipping his fingers from your mouth.

his hands went to your hips as he pressed against you, you could feel him through his pants and you grinned, “can’t tell you all of my secrets can I?” you teased.

he grinned, pressing his lips against yours again. “fuck, you’re so hot.” he breathed.

“hmm, you like this?” you asked, reaching between the two of you to grab his dick through his pants as you bit down on his lip.

Luke’s fingers dug into your hips, “Fuck yeah.” he breathed.

“what do you want to do to me?” you asked, rubbing him harder as his head lolled back and his eyes closed.

“pump a fucking baby into you.” he stated.

you stopped your motions and his eyes snapped open, “fuck, I uh, i can explain-”

there was a loud knocking on the door, “almost done in there?!”

you pushed Luke away from you, fixing your clothes and hopping off the counter, “just a second!” you called, looking in the mirror to see if you looked okay. you turned to Luke, “we will talk about this later.” you stated before you unlocked the door and went out, Luke following a few seconds later.

“hey, i really gotta get out of here.” Luke stated, “being around all these children is messing with my head.”

“okay, that’s fine, i’ll see you in two days for our Sunday date-”

“come by for dinner.” he stated, “at the palace. i mean, i can’t cook for shit but i have a world class chef-”

“i’ll be there.”

“okay.” he smiled. you turned to go but he grabbed your arm, pulling you into a soft kiss. when he pulled away he smiled, “i’ll see you tonight.”

as soon as he was in the limo Luke swore, punching at the seat. had he seriously just asked you to be ‘exclusive’? had he seriously just promised not to cheat on you?

he began to naw at his lip, it all fairness, he hadn’t slept with another girl in a couple of weeks. the thought of even sleeping with someone else made him feel dirty and Luke had been in plenty dirty situations in his life, many of them self created.

and you were coming over for dinner at his place. he swore again. you hadn’t said yes or no to the whole dating thing and Luke had a few hours to sort himself out.

he rubbed at his temples, still considering that perhaps he just needed to fuck you and then the feelings would go away. well, he’d give that a try and see where it took him.

----

you expected a servant to open the door so when Luke opened it, standing there in that green shirt, you were a bit taken aback. he still looked amazing in it as he pulled you in for a hug. “so this is the palace.” he said, opening the door wider for you to come in.

you’d started the contract around a month ago but all the dates were high profile for publicity so you’d never actually seen where he lived.

he showed you the main rooms and the tour ended in his large bedroom. bedroom wouldn’t even be the word most people would use to describe it. it was practically a studio apartment minus the kitchen.

there was a small dinner table set up with silver platters covering the food. “so how was the rest of the birthday?” Luke asked as you both sat down.

“fine. i left after you did. babies always give me baby fever.” you admitted.

Luke laughed, “me too. that was sort of wild.”

“yeah, i would have never guessed you’d like children.”

“why? because im a quote: pompous, mamas boy?” he teased.

“you forgot arrogant.”

“right, how could i ever forget arrogant?” he rolled his eyes at you.

“so what was the whole ‘pump a baby into you’ thing?” you asked.

“uhh... i don’t know.” he answered, “why, did you like it? would you be down for that?”

you laughed awkwardly, “Luke, these are the kind of questions you ask a real girlfriend.”

“don’t friends talk about this sort of thing?” he asked, “i mean, haven’t you talked to your girlfriends about this?”

“yeah but i mean... are we even friends?”

“earlier today i said you could be my girlfriend if you wanted so yeah, i’d consider us friends. also, you never really gave me an answer on that and it sort of hurts a guys feelings you know.”

“i am your girlfriend.”

Luke rolled his eyes, “you know what i mean.”

you sighed, “i just don’t want things to get messy-”

“oh, you don’t like messy?” he asked.

“not really.” you answered.

all of the sudden he was on his feet, pushing the entire table to the ground while you let out a yelp of shock, jumping to your feet as the table and the food landed on the floor, “Lu-” you began to say but his lips were on yours.

as you relaxed he pulled away, bending down and grabbing you, tossing you onto his shoulder, “oh my god you’re such a Neanderthal!” you screamed, wiggling around in his grip.

then you were falling, landing on plush fur, Luke grabbed your feet and dragged you to the edge of the bed, getting on top of you as his lips attached to yours. he ground his body down against you and you groaned, legs wrapping around his waist.

your fingers tangled into his curls before they moved to the buttons of his shirt, “fuck, this is such a nice shirt.” you groaned.

“knew you’d love it.” he grinned, helping you pull it off his body.

he went back in to kiss you but you stopped him and he pulled away, looking down at you with an odd look, “is this too fast?” he asked, shocked that those words were leaving his lips.

“no, i just want to appreciate you.” you said, fingers tracing his broad chest, “you’ve been teasing me with those button downs exposing just the right amount of chest all month.”

he grinned down at you, running a hand through his messy curls, “you almost done looking Princess?”

“five more seconds.” you smiled up at him.

he laughed but humoured you, waiting for you to finish looking at him, “okay, my turn.” you said, tearing off your shirt and bra as his lips attached to your chest.

his kisses went down your body and he worked on getting your jeans off until they joined the clothes on the ground. his hands went to your hips as his fingers slipped under the waist band of your panties, “are you okay with this?” he asked.

“i thought you were some big sex god, you going to devour me or what?” you laughed, running your fingers through your hair as you laughed.

“i am a sex god, but i like you and i want to make sure you want this as much as i do.” he grinned.

you looked down as he toyed with the last thing between him and you.

“i want this.” you stated.

“hmmm, you don’t sound like you want this darling.” he said, removing his hands.

“no, wait, Luke, please.” you whined, “please.”

his hands returned to your hips, fingers drawing circles on the sensitive skin, “you sure baby?”

“yeah, i’m sure.”

“you’ve never begged a day in your life, have you sweetheart?” he laughed, looking up at you.

this fuck.

but there was truth in it. maybe you’d misjudged him on your first date. “Luke, i’m sorry if i’ve been a bitch, i’m sorry if i judged you at first and thought you were some sex crazed asshole, i’m sorry-”

there was a tearing sound as he ripped your panties in two and you stopped talking, looking down at him in shock. you were about to say something when he buried his face between your thighs. your fingers tingled in his curls and you moaned at the feeling of his tongue working absolute magic.

“oh my god.” you moaned.

“i prefer Sire.” he said, flashing you the cockiest grin you’d ever seen.

“i am not calling you sire.” you groaned as his lips attached to you once more.

one of his hands moved from your hip and up to your face and you opened your mouth, accepting the two digits past your lips as you sucked on them. the silver ring in your mouth was driving you wild.

“suck it off babe.” he instructed.

you did as he asked, pulling the ring off as he slipped his fingers from your mouth, the ring caught between your teeth. you took it from your mouth and slipped it onto one of your own fingers.

his fingers that had been in your mouth curled into you and you moaned loudly, pulling at Luke’s hair as he laughed, “you like that kitten?”

“fuck, yes Luke.”

his fingers stopped, “yes what?”

“yes sir.”

“close but not what i’m looking for babe.” his fingers moved slightly and you moaned.

“yes sire, i love it.”

he grinned, lips attaching to your clit as he pumped his fingers at an unbelievably fast pace, sending your spiralling over the edge as you grabbed the fur blanket, letting out the most sinful noises you’d ever heard in your life as he worked you through your orgasm.

as you came down from your high Luke pulled back, standing up and putting his two fingers in his mouth, “fuck, you even taste pretty babe.”

“please just fuck me.” you begged, unable to say much else as he pushed down his pants and got on top of you, “wait, condoms.”

“you sure you want condoms?”

“Luke!” you laughed, pushing at his chest.

he sighed and moved to his bedside table, pulling out a condom and rolling it on, “you’re no fun.”

your legs wrapped around his waist again as he teased your entrance before pushing in fully. you both groaned at the feeling, his lips attacking yours again as he began to pound into you.

“fuck princess you’re so tight.” he groaned, one of his hands wrapping around your throat as you let out a loud moan, your hands going to grab his wrist, keeping his hand pressed against your skin.

he usually didn’t do missionary. it was too personal. but this just felt right. there was something about it that he couldn’t explain. his lips found yours and you moaned into his mouth.

“if you keep making sounds like that i’m not going to last too long baby.” he groaned, lips going to your neck.

“me neither.” you said, grabbing his ear lobe between your teeth.

his grip on your throat tightened and you moaned louder, the sounds driving him insane and throwing him over the edge. his quickened pace made you cum as well and you both gripped onto each other like your lives depended on it.

he slowed down and you both breathed heavily as he stayed inside of you for a moment, kissing you sweetly on the lips before pulling out and discarding the condom before falling back onto the bed with you and pulling you to his chest.

“wow.” you breathed.

he laughed, “yeah.”

you both stayed there, enjoying each others warmth as you came down from the post sex high. “you ruined the food.” you stated finally.

he laughed, “i’ll order pizza.”

“woah, since when does Prince Luke eat pizza like some commoner?” you giggled.

he grinned, “you’re right, i should get the chef to make lobster-”

“i’m joking Luke. Pizza sounds great.” you curled up in the blankets and by the time the pizza arrived at the door you were asleep. Luke looked at you, curled up in the middle of the bed like such a Princess. that was his spot. this was the reason he never let girls sleep over.

part of him wanted to tell you to hit the road, after all, your hotel was a five minute walk away. but something stopped him and he let out a sigh of exasperation as he found a smoke and went onto the terrace, closing the door as to not wake you.

he’d been standing in this very spot a few weeks earlier, angry about the entire situation. angry about your power over him. and yet, here he was again, letting you sleep on his bed in his spot.

the sex had been... like nothing he’d ever had before. which was odd, because Luke had thought he’d tried just about everything in the book. but not that. not with someone he actually cared for.

he took a long drag of his cigarette and blew out the smoke. he’d assumed this whole fake dating thing would last a few months and he could go back to partying, not giving the whole thing much thought.

but in a few months... he’d be king.

he realized, he’d never be able to go back.

the thought terrified him.

----

Luke buried his face in his pillow, reaching out instinctively but he only grasped air. his eyes opened and he realized he was alone. part of him wondered if it had been a dream but the torn panties and table mess he’d made the night before were still littered on the ground.

and you weren’t there.

it hurt in an odd way. he’d expected you to be there, even half asleep, you’d been his first thought, his first goal of the day.

he groaned and pulled out his phone.

----

Ashton sat in a floaty, Cal with his feet in the water and Michael in the shade as Luke paced back and forth. “when we started dating I didn’t expect to fall in love with her.” Luke explained, “is that even what this is?”

he looked at his friends who all laughed, “don’t look at me mate.” Cal grinned, “you know i think love is fake.”

“Ash?” Luke asked, turning to the eldest.

Ashton shrugged as he sipped his cocktail, “you’ve only been dating a month bud, seems fast to me.”

“also you’ve never had a relationship,” Michael pointed out, “so maybe you’re just in a honey moon phase.”

Luke flailed himself onto a floaty, running his fingers through his hair “this is such a mess!”

“when are you seeing her next?” Cal asked.

“i have no idea! last night wasn’t supposed to happen, the contract-”

“contract?!” Michael interrupted.

“fuck.” Luke cursed himself.

Ashton set down his drink, “you have a lot of explaining to do Hemmings.”

------

You had spent the past two days locked in your room, your phone off as you tried to sort out what had happened. it had been two days since you left before Luke could wake up. two days since he’d literally fucked his way into your heart.

you’d hoped the whole thing had been baby fever but that would have worn off by now and you were starting to worry that something more serious was at play.

could you really like Luke Hemmings? of all the possible princes you could fall for, and you had to fall for the playboy asshole who snapped his fingers at waiters?!

you had no idea what he was feeling about it either because you hadn’t talked to him. he’d suggested being your real boyfriend at the party but its not like that conversation ever got fully explored so who even knew? not you, that’s for sure.

taking a deep breath you turned on your phone, ignoring everything and calling a friend. you’d be damned if you let this whole thing get to your head.

your friend answered on the first ring “Y/N i’ve been trying to get a hold of you for ages! you think your Prince can give you up for the night so you can come party?”

you laughed at the term ‘your prince’ and sighed, “you know what, yeah, i’ll come out.”

-----

Luke’s knee bobbed up and down and his friends stared at him, “it’s bullshit that she doesn’t have a no partying section in her contract and I can’t believe she’d go out and not even answer my texts first.” Luke groaned.

“well she’s not technically your girlfriend-” Michael pointed out but Ashton punched his shoulder lightly.

“she’s probably just freaked out. like you are.” Ashton said, smiling warmly at his friend.

“and you can confront her yourself.” Cal pointed out as the limo pulled up in front of the club.

Luke took a deep breath, running a hand through his unruly curls, “how do i look?”

“you’re a fucking panty dropper mate. don’t worry.” Ashton said before the door opened and they all climbed out.

flashes started immediately and a few people screamed “Pussy Party!” which made Michael grin and scream “Pussy Party!” with the crowd as they were escorted through the VIP door.

Luke looked around the club. he’d missed the flashing lights and the feel of bass in his chest. as soon as they entered girls began approaching. Ashton grabbed two blondes right away and Michael likewise broke off from the pack with two girls.

Cal is the only one who stayed, hand on Luke’s shoulder as they both looked around. “there.” Cal said, pointing towards the bar.

the last time Luke had seen you, you’d been sprawled out on his bed, your naked body only slightly covered by his fur blanket.

and there you were, in yet another stunning dress, a drink in your hand as you talked to a few people. Luke immediately recognized one of them by his dark curly hair and cheeky grin.

Luke’s fists clenched at his sides and he took a step forward but Cal grabbed his arm, “you can’t just go in there guns blazing mate.”

“like fuck i can’t.” Luke said, pulling away from Cal and barreling towards you. a few girls tried to get in his way but he pushed past them.

Prince Harry saw Luke’s approach and smiled “hey Luke!” he grinned.

you froze as you felt Luke come to stand directly next to you, his hand going to the small of your back, “Harry.” he greeted before turning to you. you looked up at him hesitantly, “long time no see, babe.”

“yeah, um... haven’t been feeling well.” you answered.

“your phone’s been off.” Luke stated.

you sighed at his possessiveness, “how did you know i’d be here Luke?”

“the paps saw you come in.” he answered, “people were wondering why i wasn’t with you so my mentions blew up.”

“come to think of it, why didn’t you two arrive together?” Harry interjected, leaning on the bar and looking at the two of you with furrowed brows, “you’d be daft to leave a stunner like Y/N alone.”

Luke’s jaw feathered and you noticed immediately, recognizing his anger radiating off of him like it had at the Gala, and on that night you’d been talking to a friend of his, not a rival. this was not going to end well for anyone.

you felt the pull of your contractual duty as you set down your drink and wrapped your arms around Luke’s waist, leaning against his side before smiling sweetly at Harry, “i’m sorry, you’ll have to excuse my boyfriend, he can get jealous sometimes.”

Luke kept his mouth shut as he glared down at Harry.

one of your hands pressed against his chest and you looked up at him, and finally he looked down at you. he could feel the anger still coursing through his veins.

you were his.

his arm went over your shoulders, “excuse us.” he said to Harry, voice a growl as he began leading you through the crowd.

“where are we going?” you asked.

he didn’t answer as he pushed you in front of him and into one of the lavish, VIP club bathrooms, closing the door and locking it.

the last time you’d been in a bathroom he had been a soft boy but standing in front of you now was a very angry, sexy, man.

his shoulders heaved as he looked down at you, taking a step forward as you stepped back until your back hit the wall. his hand came to rest next to your head as he leaned down to be eye level with you.

“you like seeing me jealous?” he asked, voice searing into you, “you like flirting with other men while you’re dating me?”

“i wasn't-” you began but then you realized, “this whole thing is PR-”

“not to me.” he growled, pressing his lips against yours.

you wanted to be mad but the whole situation was making your heart race. you were friends with Harry, nothing more. you hadn’t meant to make Luke jealous but you had to admit, jealous Luke was a panty dropper.

your fingers went up into his curls as he bent down lifting you up and wrapping your legs around your waist as he pressed you back against the wall. your fingers danced over his shoulders as he bit down at your bottom lip.

having your legs wrapped around his waist had pushed your dress up and you could feel him through the thin fabric of your panties as you groaned into his mouth.

“Luke.” you whimpered as his mouth moved to your neck, teeth grazing your skin. he sucked on the area for a few moments, fingers digging into your thighs as he held you up.

he finally pulled away from your neck and moved to set you down on the sink counter, his hands going to his belt as he undid it. your fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, finally getting the button down open so your fingers could roam his chest, exploring the ridges of his abdomen and the beautiful V-line disappearing into his pants.

when his belt was undone he stopped, kissing you again as he reached between your bodies and once again tore your panties in half to get them off of you, “you have to stop doing that.” you laughed against his lips.

“i’ll buy you new ones.” he promised, nipping at your lower lip as your arms encircled his shoulders. his hand reached into his back pocket and he pulled out a condom.

you expected him to fuck you like that but he pulled you down off the sink, forcing you to turn so your back was to him as his hand pushed you down over the sink, ass in the air. his eyes met yours through the mirror as he lined himself up with your entrance, hands steadying on your hips in a grip that you knew would leave marks.

he slammed into you and you moaned, moving to press your cheek against the counter but a hand wrapped in your hair, pulling your head up, “watch me while i fuck you.” he growled, eyes still on yours through the mirror.

“you’re mine.” he stated as he continued to pound into you mercilessly, “say it.”

his grip tightened on your hair, “I’m yours.” you repeated.

he let go of your hair, a hand coming down to smack your bum, “Louder.”

“I’m yours Luke.” you whined, moaning as he hit a new spot inside of you.

this answer seemed to satisfy him as his head tipped down to look at where he was entering you, both hands returning to your hips as he continued to pound in and out.

“up.” he instructed.

you pushed yourself up a bit and his hand came around the front of your body to wrap around your throat, pulling you up flush against his chest but being taller than you wasn’t making the angle that easy. he swore under his breath, pulling out of you and easily man handling you to be sitting on the counter again as he easily slide back into you.

his lips captured yours as your legs went around his waist and one of his hands cupped your face. “mine.” he hissed against your lips.

“Luke i’m gonna-” you began but he cut you off with a kiss.

“me too.”

his other hand gripped your thigh as his pounding got faster, lips on yours as you both reached your highs, letting out sinful moaning and whimpering sounds as he stilled inside of you.

you both breathed heavily, foreheads touching as he stayed there for a few moments.

he pulled out of you and discarded the condom and your ruined panties, fixing his pants then lifting you off the counter and setting you down. he pulled your dress down, running a hand through your messy hair to fix it as he looked you over, not quite sure what to say to you, his gaze lingered on your neck where you knew there was a hickie forming.

“I... uh...” he struggled.

you looked up at the Prince, the guy who always knew what to say and yet here he was, tongue tied. “that was amazing.” you said, hoping it would help him find the right words and ease whatever conflicted emotions he was obviously feeling.

he laughed, removing his hand from where it had been cupping your face to do his buttons, “i knew it from the first day i met you, you’d like the kinky stuff.”

“Luke!” you laughed at the return of his cockiness as he did up his shirt, moving to smack his chest but his hand caught yours and he pulled you to his front, looking down at you with a grin.

“don’t play dumb kitten. we both know you’re a dirty girl.” his words made you let out a breath as you wondered if a round two was a possibility but knocking at the door interrupted your thoughts. someone was always interrupting you two.

Luke put his arm over your shoulders as the two of you exited the bathroom. “do you want to stay for a bit?’ you asked.

“not really.” he answered, looking down at you and laughing at the shock in your face, “i usually used to go clubbing for women but that’s not a good reason anymore.” he explained, leaning down to press his lips to yours.

you beamed up at your boyfriend. the two of you left the club, he shielded you from the paparazzi waiting outside as he held open the limo door for you before getting in himself, sitting next to you with his hand on your thigh.

“so we’re actually dating.” you stated.

he laughed, “yeah, who would have fucking thought?”

you pushed at him and he wrapped his arms around you, “either this is real or this is the worst case of baby fever ever.”

----

two months later it was announced that Luke Hemmings would be the next king. people were okay with it. everyone remembered the way Luke had been just months earlier but since he met you, everyone had seen the change.

it was something in his eyes. an emotion that no one had ever seen there before.

it was the way he always had to be touching you, or protecting you from cameras.

it was just the way he was with you.

preparations were made for his coronation. his parents set up to move to a palace in the country they’d always planned on going to after retirement. Luke was in meetings most days but he always arrived back at the palace to find you, adorned in a new set of lingerie he had bought for you. he had entered a new chapter of his life and it was obvious to everyone around.

he no longer snapped his fingers at servants and everyone who worked on the grounds noted the change.

the coronation was a big deal and Luke was worried about the whole situation but throughout the ceremony, if he ever felt lost or scared, his eyes would just find yours as you’d offer an encouraging smile.

when the festivities had ended and everyone went home, you and Luke finally had the palace to yourselves. he’d sent all the servants home to celebrate. the only sound in the entire palace was the sound of you laughing as Luke chased you around the long hallways, ready to ‘christen’ every room with your love.

it was wild, as you ran through the palace, chased by the boy you loved, to think that he was king.

you ran to the bedroom and expected him to chase you. when you jumped into the bed and turned to find he wasn’t there, you furrowed your eye brows, sitting up. “Luke!?” you called.

he entered the room a short while later, “sorry, i was um... just grabbing something.” he said, holding whatever it was behind his back.

“do you have a present for me?” you teased as he took a few steps into the room.

he grinned sheepishly and your heart fluttered, wondering what it could possibly be. “so we’ve been dating for four months-”

“if you include the PR month.” you pointed out.

he rolled his eyes, “fine, we’ve been dating for three months. and...” his adams apple bobbed as he swallowed, then he got on a knee, “i’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.” he pulled out a small velvet box that he had been hiding behind his back, opening it to reveal a ring, “i’m sure about this. Princess Y/N, will you take me, a cocky, arrogant mama’s boy, to be your husband?”

you laughed at his inclusion of ‘arrogant’ because he always seemed to forget it, but not this time. looking down at the beautiful boy in front of you, your heart felt like it was soaring out of your chest as you nodded, feeling your eyes begin to swell.

“yes.” you said.

his face lit up as he removed the ring, taking your hand softly and slipping it onto your finger.

then he was on top of you, body pressing you into the bed as your arms wrapped around his shoulders and his lips pressed against yours. you were both smiling so much that it was hard to kiss so you pushed at him, rolling so you could be on top.

you laced your fingers with his, marvelling at the ring on your finger as you looked down at him. “how did i ever get so lucky?” you asked.

“well i was given a bunch of folders-” he began but stopped as you laughed and pushed at his chest, “you know i’m a king right. you can’t push me around anymore.”

“oh yeah?” you asked as he rolled his way on top of you again, lips finding yours.

“yeah.” he said, rubbing his nose against yours slightly to make you laugh.

you smiled at each other, not a care in the world. “I love you Luke Hemmings.”

“i love you too Princess.

2K notes · View notes

writteninsunshine · 4 years

Text

Guidelines - Father Anthony Burke/Maurice “Frenchie” Theriault - SFW

Title: Guidelines Author: Donnie Fandom: The Nun Setting: Father Burke’s Office, French Cafe Pairing: Father Anthony Burke/Maurice “Frenchie” Theriault Characters: Father Anthony Burke, Maurice “Frenchie” Theriault, Valak Genre: Romance Rating: T Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 2290 Type of Work: One-Shot, Part of the Sins of the Father Series Status: Complete Warnings: Gay, Slash, Yaoi, MLM, First Date, ABO Dynamics, Mating (Mentioned), Fluff Disclaimer: I don’t own anything. Summary: Maurice had never been on a date in his life. AN: So, this is a request from my Tumblr, @writteninsunshine! I really wanted to write more with these two, I hope I’m not being too obnoxious with it. For this AU, Valak is written how he’s supposed to be in demonic lore, not so much like the movie version. He is Maurice’s roommate, and encouraged him to seduce the priest for the sinning of it but is supportive of his decisions with Father Burke. Anyway, here we go!

For @punkocalypse

The Nun Fic Masterlist Guidelines ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ “I didn’t think that priests could mate. Isn’t it a rule or something?” Maurice asked, sitting back on the leather couch on the right of Father Burke’s office. The man in question tented his hands, elbows on his oakwood desk and rested his lips against them, considering the question for a moment before deciding on a reply.

“We think of it more as a guideline of what not to do, sure. But I am a… Special case. I have done a lot of hard work for the church and provided I give them a child that will take my place eventually, I am allowed a single mate and marriage while ordained.” The explanation didn’t seem to sit well with the younger man, who tilted his head back against the back of the couch and stared at the ceiling. “So… You can mate one person,” Maurice held up a single finger, “And you want to choose me?” The Omega was clearly not impressed, unsure if the Father knew what he was getting into. “You smell right. Sometimes an Alpha just knows that an Omega is perfect for them.” Father Burke told him simply, shrugging slightly as he finally pushed his chair back and stood up. Crossing the room, he sat beside the other on the couch, “You already expressed interest. Why are you resisting?” “Mostly because I don’t think you know me well enough to be interested back.” Maurice replied, “Mating is… Forever.” “It is. And I’m willing to take that bet.” “Isn’t betting against the Church, Father?” Maurice chuckled, looking over at him with only his eyes, “I’m fairly sure I’ll ruin you.” Not to mention he was roommates and best friends with an actual demon. “As I said, it’s more of a guideline. And I am willing to do this for you. I have enjoyed our time together, and I know that you will be good to me. I want to be good to you, too.” Carefully turning to face him, Anthony reached up to take his cheek in one hand, pulling him closer to offer a gentle, innocent kiss on the lips. “I would like it if you would say ‘yes’, but I will let you think if you need to.” Maurice was quiet for a moment, seeking the other’s lips back out, working them together in slow circles. He couldn’t deny that it was a tempting thought, but his past made him wary. “And you are sure you want me?” “As you have said in the past, I have never felt this way for anyone else. I want to see where it goes.” “...And if I wanted to date first? Make sure it works?” “Then we will date. I could take you out for lunch sometime soon.” Anthony smiled sweetly, giving the other another well-deserved kiss. “What do you say?” “...Oui. We should try it.” He nodded, nuzzling their noses together. “It sounds like something we should do.” Plus, Valak was on board with it, surprisingly. Even if he didn’t know who “his priest” was. “When do you want to go out?” “I’m free today if you are?” Anthony chuckled, kissing him again softly before pulling back, watching Maurice chase his lips hungrily. “I… Yes. I am free.” Maurice blushed slightly, sitting back in his seat again before turning to face him fully. “Where do you want to go?” “There is a French cafe down the block that we could try?” Anthony offered, petting his thumb over the other’s stubbled cheek gently, “I’ll buy.” “You don’t have--” “Let me. Please, Precioso.” Maurice’s cheeks bloomed rose and he simply nodded, leaving Anthony with a pleased grin on his face. It looked good on him, even if he didn’t do it as often as Maurice would have liked. “Let me get my things together.” Maurice watched the half-blind man putter about his office, gathering his coat and wallet before holding out his arm. Getting up, he took it with a small, secretive smile and they left the office with a ‘be back in an hour’ sign on the door. The walk to the cafe was quiet and companionable, and Maurice rested his head against the other’s shoulder. It felt good to be in the chilly New York air, despite himself, and Maurice hummed a little as they approached their destination. The door dinged as they opened it, and Maurice was surprised by how nice the place looked. Dim lighting, dark walls with red and gold accents, and a small string quartet playing in the corner near a fountain. Father Burke really was pulling out all the stops for their first date. Once they were seated at a little two-person table with a beautiful red tablecloth and a single red rose in the center with a red candle, Maurice seemed stiff. Nobody had ever pulled his chair out for him and scooted him in before. “Is there something wrong, L’Amour?” Anthony asked softly, reaching over to take one of the hands placed awkwardly on the table. “I just haven’t been to a place this nice.” Maurice told him, and Anthony expected an ‘in a while’, but it never came. “I wanted to treat you,” Anthony replied easily, smiling. “It’s okay.” The waiter came to take their drink orders, and Father Burke ordered a bottle of red wine, while Frenchie asked for water. ‘Two glasses’ left him before their waiter could leave, and Maurice looked at him pensively. “Trying to get me drunk, Father?” “No, simply wanting to share something I enjoy with you.” Anthony laughed softly, a deep rumble in his chest that had Maurice smiling with him. “Okay, Father.” He nodded, shaking his head. “What do you want to eat?” “What would you suggest?” Anthony asked, head tipping as he looked at the menu, “And don’t be afraid to order what you like. I don’t mind the price.” “If you like wine, Father, I’d suggest the coq au vin. I think you would like it.” He looked through the other menu items before smiling slightly, “I think I want the boeuf bourguignon. I haven’t had it in years, and I don’t cook very well.” “Sounds good to me.” Though Anthony didn’t really know what those things were, he quickly read up on the menu. Coq au vin was chicken, marinated in wine and brandy with vegetables, and boeuf bourguignon was similar, a beef stew type thing. Both sounded hearty and filling, and he could already feel his mouth watering. “My mom used to make boeuf bourguignon,” Maurice offered off-handedly, setting his menu aside and giving a smile tinged with sadness, “I haven’t had it since she died.” “Well,” Anthony took his hand again, brushing his thumb over his knuckles as if he could soothe the pain away that way, “I could learn to make it for you. I’m fairly decent at cooking.” Blinking a couple of times in rapid succession, Maurice felt his cheeks heating up again. “You would do that for me?” “An Alpha must provide.” Was the simple answer as the waiter came back with a bucket of ice with their wine in it. He uncorked it and poured them each a shallow glass before taking their orders and heading off with them. “I would learn to cook whatever you like, provided I can find the ingredients.” “...you’re possibly the nicest Alpha I have ever met.” Definitely the first older Alpha to take him on an actual date. Most of the time, older men just wanted one thing and one thing only. “Well, I follow what the Lord said to do, which is to be kind to others. And I want to provide for you, I want to take care of you. I care for all of God’s creations, but you are a special one, and it is a treat to be able to have the chance to love you.” Every inch of Maurice was screaming that this was a setup, but he did his best to calm down before he started to panic. Taking a sip of his wine, he turned back to the other and smiled slightly. “I’m glad you want to. I’m just… Hesitant.” “Because of your past.” The confessional booth the first night they met told him a lot about Maurice, but nowhere near what the younger man was going through. Still, he was a patient man, and willing to take whatever steps he had to to prove that he could be trusted with Maurice’s heart. “...Oui.” Maurice muttered, “I think this is the first date I’ve ever been on.” He was used to hooking up with Alphas and Omegas, male and female alike. He didn’t know what to do on a date, but he hoped he wasn’t messing it up too much. “I hope it is treating you well, then.” Anthony offered softly, barely heard above the cello playing in the background. “I would like to take you out more.” “Really? Don’t you have things to attend to?” “You are as important to me as the church is, and I guarantee you that.” The other’s scent clicked with his own so well, and he was going to enjoy his time while he had it. He wasn’t getting any younger, and at fifty-seven, he was starting to think he’d never mate. Maurice had come across him by the grace of God and he wasn’t going to let it go. “Uh, thanks, Father. I’m glad you think I’m special.” Because hardly anyone else did. Maybe Valak, because they were best friends, but most people didn’t see the diamond for all the mud. When their food arrived, Frenchie was ready to dig in, but Father Burke held up his hand. “Just a moment, Precioso. We should say Grace.” Maurice simply nodded, hands folded in his lap in a second’s notice. "Bless us, O Lord, and these, Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty. Through Christ, our Lord. Amen." He finished the prayer with the sign of the cross, and Frenchie rushed to copy him, muttering an ‘amen’ of his own. With a nod, Father Burke acquiesced to him eating, and he unwrapped his silverware to shovel the first bite into his mouth. The little moan that that earned had Anthony heating up under his collar, but he was glad at least that Maurice was enjoying his food. For a while, they ate in silence, enjoying the good food and even better wine that they shared. Maurice didn’t seem to mind, scraping his bowl clean and all but preparing to lick it for good measure. He thought better of it at the last second, finishing off his bread with as much of the leftover soup as he could and sitting back to pat his belly. “That hit the spot.” He offered, smiling at the older man as he finished up his own meal, pausing for a second before speaking, “Do we pray after, too?” “Yes.” God, if he had to sit through another prayer this restaurant would reek. Maurice couldn’t believe how much it got him going when Father Burke prayed. It must have been a sin against God. "We give Thee thanks, Almighty God, for all thy benefits, Who lives and reigns forever and ever. Amen." “Amen.” Maurice echoed, blushing again at how heated he was becoming. Anthony finished off his second glass of wine and gently placed his napkin back on the table. “Are you ready to go, or would you like dessert?” “We can get dessert?” When his father had taken him to dinner, the few times it had happened, they never got dessert. When Anthony nodded, he grinned, “Let’s split something.” That was something that happened on dates, right? “We can split something. There was a chocolate cheesecake slice on the menu, does that sound good?” One could never go wrong with chocolate. “Oui!” That sounded so good, he couldn’t pass it up. When the waiter swung by to ask about dessert, Father Burke ordered their cheesecake, asking for a single spoon with it. It arrived in a timely manner, and he sliced the tip off before leaning forward, hand beneath the spoonful to catch crumbs. Never having been fed in his adult life, Maurice’s cheeks heated again as he scooted in to take the bite. Holding out the spoon to him after it was finished, Anthony delighted when he took it and copied the action to feed him in return. Their dessert was quick to disappear like that, the pair taking turns feeding each other and basking in each other’s company. Maurice couldn’t help but think that he could get used to this, even if he was unsure if Anthony would want to keep treating him this well. There had to be a catch, even if there was none in sight. Once the check was taken care of, which Anthony had hidden from Maurice, he rose and stepped to the younger’s side to help him up. His scent was rich with happiness, and Maurice took his hand and rose to leave with him. The pair walked back to the church in relative silence, pressed close enough to squeeze the air from between them. At the church steps, Maurice paused. “I think I need to head home.” He offered, “But I had a great time.” “As did I. I look forward to our next meeting.” Anthony smiled, leaning in to kiss the French-Canadian’s forehead. “Call me whenever you like, or feel free to talk to me at church.” “Yes, Father.” Maurice grinned, cheeks aflame again as he hugged him quickly before shuffling off towards his apartment. He had a lot to tell Valak about. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ AN: That turned out a lot longer than I thought it would, but I had a lot of fun writing it. I really love these two a lot, and I expect I’ll be writing for them often. I hope you enjoyed it! Prompt: “We think of it more as of a guideline of what not to do.”

#The Nun Fanfic #The Nun Fanfiction #The Nun Father Burke #The Nun Frenchie #The Nun Burchie

3 notes · View notes

starscreamloki · 6 years

Text

Bittersweet

One shot

Read on AO3

Imagine/summary: This fic is a combination of an imagine Loki, and an ask on Veliseraptor’s blog and the answer. So, imagine Loki replacing all the coffee in the Stark Tower with decaf and then swapping it with espresso after a couple of months, and what if Loki downs half a pot if Vanaheim espresso? Even the God of Lies makes mistakes sometimes.

Warnings: None, just fluff and a hyperactive God.

Words: 3783

A/N: Yeah, this story might seem a little bit old, but I really enjoyed writing it! Thanks to the Anon who put in the ask at @veliseraptor‘s blog, thanks to @veliseraptor self and @theotherodinson for the headcanons. Also thanks for @imagine-loki for putting up the imagine. Headcanons are not mine, I just wrote more letters around them!

---

At had been a couple of weeks since Loki had taken up residence in the Avengers Tower. It hadn’t been a pleasant stay because the Avengers kept picking on him, and more than once had he considered to leave, no matter what the repercussions might be. On the other hand did he have way to much fun with annoying the Avengers as they had to put up with his mischievous pranks as well, but the fact remained that Loki only pulled off tricks and made sure no harm would befall them, but the Avengers didn’t play by that rule, and Loki had been hurt more than once.

In the end he never had had the heart to actually walk out of the compound because Tony way to often threatened with the device that could render him paralyzed, not able to do anything against the violent electrical shocks that would travel through his veins.

Loki shuddered. Clint had gotten his hands on the device once and had used on Loki just to get back at him for brainwashing him. It had been Thor who had eventually freed him from the shocks of the device.

Little did Clint knew, and the Archer still wasn’t aware of the fact that Loki had been manipulated himself to act in the way he had done a year ago. Maybe someone hadn’t explained it to him yet, but it was more likely Barton just wanted his sweet revenge and choose to ignore the fact.

But Loki could handle it and ever gracious he let them pester him, partly amused at their actions, partly not caring, but most of all biding his time for his revenge.

Loki smiled. The Avengers had been on edge for the last couple of days because Loki hadn’t done anything mischievous for a whole week and they constantly eyed him warily when they were around him. And thus Loki put on smirking, faked smiles whenever one of them was keeping an eye on him, acting all innocent and sweet.

Of course Loki wouldn’t go a whole week without pulling of some mischief, but this time he had set up something for the long term and he just had to be patient even though he often itched to kill each and every one of them.

He had noticed that each Avenger greatly depended on coffee, whether it be morning, during the day or the evening. They downed the liquid like their life depended on it. Loki hadn’t tried it yet and eventually he had thought it would be for the better not to try it either. He had done some research on the black stuff and learned about the cafeïne and the existence of decaf!

One night he had snuck around the tower and replaced the coffee of every machine with decaf coffee. He wasn’t as stupid to leave behind any traces and had swapped the normal beans in each package with decaf as well.

The first couple of days had been hilarious. Even Thor, who also was addicted to the brown liquid by now, had fallen prey to Loki’s trick and Loki was very amused at seeing them walk around like zombies, not able to focus or stop yawning.

It had been a dangerous situation as well, because they weren’t their normal selves and if there would be an attack of some sorts, Loki was pretty sure they might have gotten themselves in peril. Luckily no such thing had happened and Loki enjoyed the quiet time he had, for they were all too tired to bother with his presence and they left him be.

After a couple of days the Avengers were turning back to their normal selves again, and with that, their occasional snippy or hurtful remark at the God of Lies. Loki didn’t care, or at least pretended not to care, and just let them push him around.

His time would come.

***

After a couple of weeks biding his time, one night Loki found himself snooping around the tower again, messing with the coffee machines again. This time he replaced all the decaf with espresso and a sly smile played around his lips.

Tomorrow would be so much fun!

Morning came and the Avengers moved to the kitchen for their breakfast and coffee. Loki sat on the sofa, smirking from behind his book, trying not to draw too much attention to himself but actually feeling quite giddy at what was about to come.

The Avengers downed their coffee, some of them looking at the contents of their cup with a weird face. “Does this taste different to you?” Bruce asked to no-one in particular. Nobody answered for they were still to drowsy and Bruce just shrugged, downing the rest and pouring another.

It took some time before the cafeïne had kicked in, but when it did, Loki had a very hard time keeping his poker face, biting his lip not to burst out in laughing.

Bruce and Tony were wound up in a conversation about some science project, talking so fast it was almost inhuman and Loki had to strain his hearing to keep up with the conversation. But both of them were on edge, trying to trump the other with their ideas, which started to border on ideas that maybe they shouldn’t execute because they were downright bad, to Loki actually fearing for the welfare of the realm. And considering the fact that he had set an army loose on Earth, one could only imagine how utterly dangerous the ideas from the two scientists were!

Thor on the other hand did have a somewhat similar reaction, also trying to be the alpha-male, but in his own way. Claiming to be ‘the almighty God of Thunder’ - which of course he is - he started to summon dark clouds, rain, and said thunder right there in the tower, the clouds whirling around him in a entrancing dance. When Thor started to display the Thunder even more, sending it across the room in loud cracks and almost frying the book in Loki’s hands and destroying multiple items and furniture, Tony had had enough, had suited up, and kicked Thor out of the tower so he could ‘play’ outside with his dark clouds.

Thor’s actions had effected Bruce and the Hulk had been scratching the surface to get out, but Tony really didn’t want his tower buried in ruin and had achieved to calm Bruce down by rapidly talking about their project again, keeping the green monster at bay.

Loki let out a sigh of relief at that because he wasn’t very fond of the beast. They had more than once threatened to set it loose on him if he wouldn’t stop… Well, whatever it was he was doing wrong in their eyes, which pretty much contained living and breathing all together.

Steve just literally bounded of the walls, using the room and furniture as his training ground leaping from couch to chair and somersaulting through the air. In one particular somersault Steve jumped over Loki, Steve’s hair brushing the top of Loki’s forehead while upside down in his leap. It was at this point that Loki started to doubt his trick a little bit. Steve bounded towards Tony and Bruce who were still wrapped up in a heated discussion which started to contain a lot of vile words. “Language-language-LANGUAGE,” Steve bellowed as he passed them, jumped on the counter and crouched there like a cat.

Suddenly the door burst open and Clint rolled in, his bow set and an arrow trailing towards the God of Mischief which he barely caught before it hit him in the shoulder. Quickly Loki disposed of the arrow, anticipating it might explode, but it didn't.

Threateningly Clint stalked towards Loki, murder in his eyes while summing up all that Loki had ruined for him when he was enthralled. By now Loki had put his book away and got up from his spot on the sofa, trying to make himself as tall and threatening as he could. Something in the back of his mind said that Barton would not back down and that he was out with intent to hurt Loki. Loki only smiled at the archer, warily eyeing the bow and its arrow that was aimed for Loki’s eyes.

Bruce and Tony had stopped their conversation to watch the situation unfold, and even Steve looked curious at the events.

Before Loki or Clint could do something, Natasha jumped between them, telling Clint to put away the arrow and back off.

Loki raised an eyebrow, baffled by the fact that she would put herself between them because she absolutely held no love for the Trickster, yet her she was putting herself in harm's way. ‘Move, Romanoff,’ Clint hissed, “so I can put an arrow through his skull and see if he still lives to tell after that!”

Natasha was unfazed by Bartons threat and sped forward, shoving the bow out of harm’s way (and setting the arrow of which ended up in the ceiling), and with a few quick blows she had Barton on his knees. It had all been to quick for Barton who was still stuck in a cafeïne-haze and hadn’t been able to focus on the Black Widow and her quick moves. He swore vigilantly which was immediately followed by a Steve bellowing “language”.

“I think I’ll take my leave now,” Loki stated calmly and trying not to sound threatening. As he went for the door, eyeing Clint warily, he saw the counter. Loki only counted five used cups and his head snapped up to meet Natasha’s eyes. A grin formed on her face and Loki realised he hadn’t seen the Black Widow down her morning coffee.

She knew!

***

Loki hadn’t taken his leave but merily made himself invisible to further observe. And even though he had felt the threat, he still snickered at their actions as they bounded of the wall.

When all dust was finally settled, and everybody except Natasha was crashed down on the chairs and sofas in the living room, Loki revealed himself and casually walked back into the living room. A stupid smirk formed on his face as he saw the deprived faces from the Avengers. Loki picked up his book, which miraculously still was on the table and unmarred, and took of to his chambers.

While he lay on his bed he still snickered at the thought of the Avengers bouncing of the walls. It had been a dangerous situation, for him as well considering Barton who actually had wanted to kill him, but it also had been fun and he would definitely do it again.

No, not again, that would be boring but he could definitely up the game. If only he could get his hands on some coffee from Vanaheim…

***

It had taken a couple of months, but luck had been with Loki for he had been to Asgard with Thor. The exact reason for their travel had not been shared with Loki, but he was pretty sure it had to do something with his behaviour. He didn’t mind though and upon his visit he had snuck into the kitchen of Asgard and managed to get the cook to give him coffee from Vanaheim.

Upon his return Loki had carefully planned his action. In the first couple of weeks all of the Avengers had been warily around the coffee machines, checking and making sure that there hadn’t been tempered with their precious liquid, but eventually everything went back to normal - as far as that would ever go - and they had downed their guard.

Loki still acted out of spite, simply because sometimes he was so utterly done with their behaviour of messing with him but he couldn’t in the least say his hands were clean, because more than once Loki still antagonized them all and especially Clint had suffered Loki’s wrath in the first couple of weeks after the first coffee-incident.

It was early in the morning and everybody was still asleep except Loki who once more snuck around the Tower. With a smirk on his face Loki replaced the regular coffee with the Vanaheim version. He was just about done when the coffee machine in the kitchen turned on and started to brew the brown liquid. It was one of Stark’s little inventions, making sure the coffee was ready in the morning so the first person who got up didn’t need to turn on the machine but could just grab a cup.

Loki watched with some fascination as the machine made some vibrating noises and the liquid started to drip in the can. He really did not understand what everyone on this Godforsaken realm found so appealing about this stuff and he wrinkled his nose at the smell of it. Loki rather had a decent cup of tea.

He was curious however. What made it so appealing? Why did everyone need it so badly to function? But most important, what did it actually taste like?

He thought back at what had happened with the Avengers and still smirked at the thought of them bounding of the walls, and he really shouldn’t, but he was just so curious. And was it harmful to try? Sure this Vanaheim stuff was stronger than that compared to the Midgardian stuff, but how much would it affect him? He was a God after all, and the God of Mischief on top of that!

Loki was torn between the options, but in the end his arrogance and his curiosity got the better of him and he poured himself a cup, sipping it’s contents.

It didn’t taste awful but he wasn’t sure he liked it very much either. After he had downed the first cup he waited for a couple of minutes, but nothing seemed to happen. He didn’t feel different in any way and something must have been off. Maybe this stuff from Vanaheim was not as strong as he thought it would be, and thus he poured himself another cup and downed that as well.

Still nothing. Another cup.

Loki shrugged. Maybe it wouldn’t affect him, and he really didn’t like the taste anyway, so he forfeited his attempt at understanding this stuff. He walked to the sofa and flopped down on it, picked up his book and started to read.

After fifteen minutes Loki felt his fingers tingle and the words on his book didn’t seem to come through anymore. He looked at his fingers and played with the magic that swirled around it, giggling softly at the traces it left in the air. Suddenly he felt the urge pace around the room, and thus he got up and did so, his thoughts going rapidly.

Maybe the coffee had worked. It was such a weird thing. Other things were weird as well. Like what? Oh right, the magic around my fingers!

Loki paced through the room, intently watching at his magic which couldn’t seem to focus and just bounded of his hand in any way he pleased.

Magic, yes! Didn’t the mortals find magic difficult to understand? Why? It was just so easy! If you’d just-

At that moment Tony walked into the room, a worn expression on his face, as he saw the God of Mischief pacing around the room, green magic radiating from his entire being and lazidly trailer after him. Tony stopped dead in his tracks, raised an eyebrow and just gaped at Loki.

A little uncertain Tony spoke, not sure what had gotten into him. “Reindeer Games, what are you doing?”

When Loki noticed Tony he reacted with a delighted glee and a stupid grin on his face. “I-understand-it-now,” Loki said, the words tumbling out of his mouth. Before Tony was well aware Loki was in front of his nose and babbling to him about God knew what and Tony’s mouth just dropped open farther. A little bit scared Tony took a few steps back until he was standing in front of the doorframe, and Loki just kept walking with him, still talking like the devil was on his tail.

Just when Tony wanted to take another step back someone from behind bumped against him. Before either one of them could make a snippy remark Loki gleefully exclaimed “Thor!” and started rambling at the God of Thunder.

With a snap Thor was pulled out of his drowsy state of sleepiness and looked at his brother. Loki’s eyes were wide open, the green magic surrounding him giving him an eerie look and Loki was shivering. “Brother, what has gotten into you?” Thor asked concerned.

“I-can-finally-see-it-now. All-the-patterns-and-how-it-is-linked-together! It-” Loki started to speak so fast that Thor had problems following what Loki was saying and his eyes grew wider at the oddness with which his brother was behaving.

“Uh-oh,” Thor heard Tony mutter from the kitchen and Thor stealed a looked at him, seeing the coffeepot Tony was holding aloft. Within two strides Thor was near Tony, getting a furious scorn from Loki about being rude to walk away when someone was having a conversation with you. But Loki’s thoughts went so rapidly he quickly forgot about Thor’s rude behavior and he just stared out in front of him, still shivering, no, vibrating, his eyes wide and his magic swirling around him like a whirlwind.

Thor picked up the can of coffee and smelled at its contents, even carefully taking a sip, not bother to pour it in a mug first. “This is not from Earth,” he stated. Tony mumbled some vile words under his breath which immediately followed by the all to known snappy remark from Steve who entered the room.

Without second thoughts Tony grabbed the can from Thor and dumped its contents into the sink and asked JARVIS what had happened. JARVIS told what had transpired and Loki angrily looked around trying to find the source that was JARVIS while calling him a traitor and a coward for not showing himself.

Thor walked out of the room leaving Tony and Steve with the God of Lies. They carefully tried to approach him, trying to calm him down, but when they did, Loki lashed out with his magic and they kept their distance, not willing to antagonize the God any further.

Eventually Bruce, Natasha and Clint appeared as well, baffled at Loki’s state who was talking to himself now, drawing things in the air with his magic. Clint laughed at seeing Loki in this state and suddenly Barton had Loki’s undivided attention drawn to him, murder in his green eyes. Within two strides Loki was in front of Barton, grabbed him by the collar and hoisted him in the air and snarled at him.

“Brother!” Thor screamed from the door opening in which he stood. Loki’s head snapped his way, a bewildered look in his eyes. “Put. Him. Down.” Thor threatened and stalked towards Loki. A soft ‘uh-oh’ came from Tony who was reluctantly anticipating that the two Gods would tear down his tower.

Loki didn’t let go of Barton and Thor had to pry the Archer from his strong grip. As Loki got angrier the magic swirling around him started to expand and even sizzle. Tony mumbled something about suiting up which resulted in an angry glare from Loki, his eyes fixing on Stark and making Tony well aware he would be next one who had to be pried from Loki’s deadly grip. Before things got any worse Thor ordered everyone to leave the room.

Trusting the God of Thunder, everyone did as they were told.

Thor walked to the kitchen and put on the water boiler and set down the stuff he had went out to get. Loki’s behaviour had turned around completely, from the anger and intended murder just seconds ago, to happily chidding away again about every thought that coursed through his brain. It was also at this point that Loki started talking in multiple languages at once in one sentence, and Thor had just forfeited listening to him at all.

The water boiler was done and Thor continued what he was set out to make while more magic swirled around Loki. It was then that he started to whimper and shiver even more, skittishly looking around from the corners of his eyes. Loki could feel his heart rapidly beating in his chest, his blood pumping through his veins as never before giving him an odd sensation of feeling too warm but not able to shake it off.

Suddenly he was behind Thor breathing down his neck, fidgeting with Thor’s clothes while trying to see what he was doing. Thor wondered if Loki was even remotely aware of his behaviour but one look in his brothers eyes told him he probably wasn’t.

The door opened and Steve walked in, startling Loki who seemed a little bit too jumpy for his normal way of acting. Steve moved through the room. “Just here to get my…” he eyed Loki warily who made a sudden move by stepping behind Thor, “...things…”

Loki’s eyes stood wild while he looked at the Captain over the shoulder of his brother. “Is he having an anxiety attack?” Steve whispered. Thor shrugged and his sudden movement made Loki jump.

Not wanting to see how this would play out, or being the next victim of the God of Lies, Steve hurried out of the room with his equipment and closed the door with a bang. Loki bared his teeth at the door, almost hissing like a snake.

“I made you some tea,” Thor spoke soothingly. “It’s mother’s calming herbal tea. Please drink it.”

Loki eyed the glass and its contents warily. Still not having shaken his snake-like behaviour he hissed at it. Then he figured he might as well turn into one and slithered across the floor, green scales gleaming and still surrounded by a swirl of magic.

Thor sighed. This was going to be a long day!

***

Loki lay on the couch, a splitting headache eating away at his skull. He couldn’t remember much about what had transpired except for some bits and pieces.

Natasha opened the fridge and an eyebrow crept up towards her hairline. “Loki, why is your book in the fridge?”

Loki moaned, he couldn’t remember he had put it there. This had been a bad idea and he wouldn’t ever touch coffee again.

***

It had been weeks and everyone was still on edge after this whole endeavour.

The Avengers had decided to install new machines that didn’t grant access to anyone but JARVIS who controlled the order of the right coffee beans, and their refills.

It had been, however, the last time any of them had bullied the God of Lies.

---

Taglist: @welcome-to-fangirl-hell , @lusty-loki , @destiel1597, @laralaufey, @welcome-to-fangirl-hell, @fairlightswiftly

#loki #loki imagine #imagine loki #loki fanfic #loki and coffee

147 notes · View notes

littlepeachwhispers · 6 years

Text

Civilian - Chapter 1: Darkness

Previous Chapter: Prologue Pairing: Negan x Fem!Reader Summary: When you accidentally stumble onto Sanctuary territory, Negan takes you prisoner to ensure your arrival is purely coincidental. When no one from your group shows up, you end up becoming a citizen of the sanctuary and realizing just how dark your new leader truly is.

Chapter Warnings: isolation

Story Warnings: violence, gore, smut, slow burn, isolation, dark themes

Available on AO3 if you prefer to read there. A/N: I apologize truly for such a long time gap between updates. I’ve been dealing with holiday stuff lately, and I work 12-hour shifts at night. I have quite a bit planned for this fic, but this chapter just really seemed like the reader was rambling a lot to depict her time in the cell. I apologize in advance that it’s a bit boring and there’s not as much of our favorite villain as we all would like. Also, I forgot to mention the fic is inspired by Wye Oak’s song “Civilian.” I listened to it on repeat, it just has an intense apocalypse feel to me.

Chapter 1: Darkness

The darkness wasn’t terrible at first. Spending most of every day in the scalding Virginian sun actually made you feel calmer in the dark, and this cell was no exception - after the impending panic attack had subsided, of course. You could still feel your heart beating steadily, your respirations coming at a quickened pace still yet. But after a few hours, the initial panic was fading. You were safe from walkers here. There was only one exit. You didn’t have to face the dangers of scavenging or being outside unprotected. Your fear was no longer sourced from your solitude; now it came from the thoughts of what would happen after your time here. Would that man, Negan, kill you on the spot? Would he let you leave? You thought again about how lean he was and how easy it would have been for any of his followers to take power from him. Why did they follow the older man so loyally? Were there any more followers you’d yet to see?

Questions built up in your mind that might not ever be answered, and in an attempt to distract yourself, you began to count the seconds - and then minutes - ticking by. Sixty seconds. One minute, two minutes, five, ten, fifteen. You stopped when you got to twenty-three, deciding that counting time was making you anxious all over again. You lost track of how much time you had spent in the cell. It felt like days, but no one had brought you anything so you knew that couldn’t be the case. You slid yourself down into the floor, your cheek resting on the frigid concrete, so that you could peak outside from the small slit of light under the door. You were disappointed as your eyes met with another concrete wall across the corridor. You knew what the place looked like before you had been confined to the cell, so you weren’t sure what you were expecting to see. Feet maybe, but with the amount of locks you were willing to bet were on the door, there was likely no need to guard you so closely. You were definitely alone.

You turned onto your back and attempted to fall asleep several times, but anxiety and worry tormented you, making it impossible to relax. You finally settled your back into the corner, facing the door and waiting. You wondered if anyone from your community would come looking for you. What would Negan and his followers do to them if they did? You vividly remembered the barbed wire glistening in the sunlight, wrapped tightly around his bat. It was ominous, certainly, but maybe just an intimidation tactic. Surely he would question your people before acting.

What worried you most was how you’d landed yourself in a cell over something as insignificant as the location of their community. Negan had said something about information, and that had sparked your curiosity. Maybe this group had a doctor or scientist that had vital knowledge about what had caused the dead to walk. You knew it was only wishful thinking, but a part of you had always held onto the possibility of a cure or antidote. Not having to see anyone else die or rot away to this damned disease? That would be all you could ever hope for. Before the end of the world, you had been a nurse. Wanting to help people had become second nature to you; it was what you were good at. When hell broke loose and you managed to escape the hospital you’d worked in, you holed up in your hometown for quite some time, collecting medical supplies and patching up people who’d been hurt. When your supplies dwindled down and most of your friends had departed to find their own families, you had been forced to leave for somewhere safer, with more supplies and food sources. Stumbling into a couple of kind people had been sheer luck, and you’d been with them ever since. Your role in your community was similar to your job before; you’d put dressings on everyone’s injuries, make sure they were eating okay, give what medicines you could, and monitor people feeling unwell mentally or physically. It’s what your mind kept lingering on: you could be killed or kept here, and that meant the people back home were going without medical care.

You barely noticed the sound of heavy, slow footsteps, before a voice cried out, “WHEN I GET OUT, I’LL KILL EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU.” Huffing breaths and then a shrill yell kicked you out of your thoughts; a man’s voice a couple cells down, it sounded like.

With that, your calm demeanor disappeared. You felt yourself shiver at the echo of his deep voice against the steel and concrete corridor. He started to punch the door with his fists; flat, hard beats of flesh against the hard surface permeated the air, making you feel queasy. Your sanity was already stretched thin, a tightrope you’d been desperately clinging to balance on since you’d lost your group. Another man began shouting and you realized you were surrounded by prisoners, mad ones judging by the sound of their clamoring. Whoever’s footsteps triggered the men’s outburst began to grow louder. You expected to hear Negan’s dark timbre, but it was Simon’s loud voice that rang out.

“You all had better pipe the fuck down. I’d hate to have to tell Negan there’s an uprising in the holding cells.” At the mention of Negan, the yells quietened into mumbles, and then silence. Simon’s boots grew louder still, and you scooted yourself up, as close to the walls in the corner as you could physically get. Three audible locks clicked before light flooded the cell, burning your vision. You raised your hands up to shade your face, shielding your eyes from the brightness. Simon knelt down in the doorway and addressed you, his voice quickly transformed from crass to serene.

“Okay, Doll. It’s been decided that your group isn’t coming for you, since it’s nightfall already and they would have to be suicidal or just plain stupid to go out in the dark.” Your mouth was dry and your voice scratchy, but you’d managed to speak up, “I told you. I’m not trying to pull anything. I’ve never heard of this community.”

Simon nodded, “I know. But Negan’s got a lot of responsibility to keep the people here safe. And he doesn’t trust easily. None of us do. But he does have a soft spot for women. So I’ve been instructed to take you to the regular living quarters and make you a bit more comfortable. Let you get a few solid hours of sleep. Then he’ll talk with you and decide what happens next in the morning.”

Out of all the scenarios you’d imagined in your head - being beaten to death, thrown out into the darkness to become walker food, kept here until you rotted away - this had not been one of them.

“You’re not going to kill me?” Simon laughed, “No. We might not be conventionally nice people, who is these days? But we aren’t evil either. Come on.”

He held a hand out to you and you hesitated. Should you really trust this man? You once again decided you didn’t have any other option at this point, and being anywhere other than this cell sounded great. If this was a trick or he was leading you to your death, at least you’d know soon. He helped you to stand; your legs shaky from lack of use all day. Once you had your balance, he pulled a pair of silver handcuffs from his belt. “Sorry, kid.” He motioned for you to turn around.

You didn’t put up a fight, and let him handcuff your hands behind your back.

After your hands were secure, you walked alongside him, back out the way you’d come, and up a flight of industrial metal stairs. He led you down another hallway and through a pair of double doors, into what seemed to be an indoor flea market. There were various vendors, selling everything and anything imaginable. As you walked beside him, Simon continued explaining.

“This is our marketplace. Most of our people live on a system of points. Scavenging, going on missions, working, doing favors for Negan, all of that earns points. You can barter belongings, or use your points to buy things. Various foodstuffs, handmade clothes or blankets, weapons, room items, jewelry. It’s endless.”

Simon picked up a black crocheted blanket, a tank top, knitted shorts, a pair of dark jeans, a black tee shirt, and a few small soap bars as he walked you around the huge room. When he reached an end table near the door, a woman in a teal headscarf sat with a few notebooks and pens, holding one of the writing utensils out for him.

“Our form of “paying” for our goods,” he explained. When the woman looked up to see that it was Simon, she scribbled in the book herself and gave him a small smile before the two of you left the pay table.

Your curious expression did not go unnoticed by Simon, and he explained as he came to a stop. “A select few of us are exempt from the point system. We still have other rules to follow of course, but a few perks aren’t bad.”

You nodded, mentally questioning what an individual had to do to be an exception to the point system. You weren't entirely sure you wanted to know.

As you and Simon approached the same set of doors you’d entered moments ago, you noticed a woman leaning against the panelling, her arms crossed. Simon motioned her over and she pulled herself away from the wall, making her way over to you. She had her hair twisted into a blonde bun, a obsidian-toned tattoo contrasting the ivory skin on her neck, and a golden hoop nose ring on the left side of her nose.

“This is Laura.” Simon introduced her. You told her your name as well, out of respect, and she nodded.

“Laura’s going to give you the rest of the tour and make sure you get a hot shower and some food.” Food was great, but the thought of hot water was better. You were sure running hot water was a luxury of the past, something that would be a mere story to tell future generations. Remembering what it was like to come home after a long night at work, standing bare under a hot stream of water cascading over you; it made your muscles tremble at the thought.

“That sounds amazing. Hot water.”

Laura chuckled a bit at your reaction. “Oh, trust me it is.”

Simon handed the items he’d bought to Laura, and clapped his hand on your shoulder. “I have to get going, but Laura will take good care of you. See you tomorrow.”

His touch made you flinch. Hours earlier, you’d watched their leader swing his bat around, threatening you. Fellow community members pointed guns and knives of all imaginable varieties at you, they’d shoved you into a cell like you’d murdered a handful of small children, and now he was fucking Mr. Rogers-level friendly. You felt the aforementioned tightrope of sanity you were still balancing on shrinking thinner.

Laura showed you a few more essential areas of the community; the latrines, the showers, the cafeteria, and a few of the living quarters. She’d said that was all she was permitted to show you for now, and when she offered for you to finally go grab a shower, she followed you. Not into the stall, thank God, but she removed your handcuffs and stood right outside, preventing you from escaping or wandering off on your own. As you stood under the near-scalding spray of water, you contemplated everything that had happened so far. These people seemed nice enough; after the threats, the barbed-wire bat, and the cell. They weren’t torturing or raping or slicing you to pieces. You hadn’t seen any vendors selling human body parts for soup. But it was blatantly obvious that they still didn’t trust you. And maybe it was wrong, but that just made you want to investigate this place further. There was bound to be something shady going on, or something of utmost importance that needed protecting. Simon had said it himself; Negan had a huge responsibility to protect the Sanctuary. And you couldn’t help but linger on why.

After you finally left the shower, Laura escorted you to the cafeteria and sat with you as you ate your meal; a leafy green salad and a marinara-smothered pasta that you couldn’t remember the name of. Cellentani? Cavatappi maybe? It didn’t matter now. Pasta was easy to make in large quantities and it had been one of your favorite meals before the end had come; you weren’t going to complain about it. You didn’t know if you were hungry or if the food was just incredible, but it made your mouth water and you didn’t think you could eat another bite once you had finished. Laura tried to make small talk, and you hadn’t been rude, but stuffing your face with pasta made it surprisingly difficult to carry on a conversation.

The place wasn’t nearly as crowded as it had been at the marketplace, and you surmised that it was getting late. Candles and low-energy lamps lit the corridors now, as the sun was absent in all of the large windows. The main area with the stairwells had previously been brightly shining with abundant amounts of sun whenever the men had brought you to your cell. Laura had recuffed you and led you through the dimly-lit halls to one of the living quarter rooms. It held two bunk beds, a full-size bed, and two floor cots. Three of the bunks were taken, and there were two people asleep in the full sized bed. Laura took your cuffs off again, handed you the items from earlier, and pointed to one of the floor cots and the small cubby area near the doorway you were currently standing in.

“Your stuff will be safe here. Try to get some sleep. Who knows what Negan will decide for you tomorrow.” You could tell she wasn’t trying to intimidate you on purpose, she seemed like a blunt, matter-of-fact kind of person. It still bothered you nonetheless.

When you changed into the tank top and shorts Simon had given you, stored your few belongings away, and started to try to get comfortable in the floor, you noticed Laura kept standing.

“You aren’t sleeping?” You asked, hushed so as not to wake anyone.

Grinning, she whispered, “I’m on guard duty for another four hours.”

She stepped outside the door, leaning against the wall outside of your room. They truly didn’t trust you not to escape. You didn’t really fault them for that though, because if given the opportunity, you couldn’t truthfully say you wouldn’t at least attempt to leave. Covering yourself up with the blanket Simon had given you, you adjusted onto your stomach and attempted to fall to sleep. Tomorrow morning was a mystery looming over your head like a storm cloud. You could be thrown out, defenseless. You could be kept captive. Hell, Negan could have you shot or stabbed to death by his bandwagon of followers. The worries were endless and daunting. What if someone back home was sick or injured and needed you? Would the group be out looking for you in the dark? They had more sense than that. You’d hoped so, at least. Would they think you left on purpose? Maybe they would be angry with you. Maybe no one would ever come looking for you. The nurse who left them all without any medical support, left them to die. You groaned, pulling your arms up over your head and ears, attempting to drown out the sounds of your own suffocating thoughts. After about fifteen minutes, the exhaustion in your bones finally caught up to you, and although your relentless thoughts never ceased to bombard your mind, you finally dozed off.

“Get up.” Unsure of exactly how much sleep you’d managed to get, you were suddenly being shaken awake. It wasn’t Laura standing above you this time; it was a man you recognized from your encounter early the day before. You couldn’t remember where he’d been standing, but he’d been pointing a weapon at you, that part was vibrant in your mind. You sat up, wiping sleep from your eyes and pushing your still-damp hair out of your face.

“Is something wrong?” It had to be early. Looking beyond him and into the hallway, the lamps were still lit. The sun hadn’t risen yet. “...Negan wants to see you.” The thought of the older man made your stomach drop. This was it. Your entire future - how much longer you lived, if truth be told - dependant on a conversation you were seconds away from having. You stood and dressed in the jeans Simon had gifted you. Pulling your boots on, you left everything else in the cubby area. You stretched the sleep from your muscles before nodding to the man who’d interrupted your dreamless slumber. He cuffed you yet again, and turned to walk down the hallway, you following reluctantly on his heels. He didn’t speak at all, and you couldn’t decide if that was good or bad. The two of you walked up a second flight of stairs and down another corridor. Their distrust of you was good in one respect; with people escorting you everywhere, you couldn’t get lost. A likely possibility when every floor looked the same to you: all concrete and metal. The place reminded you of a prison, and it wasn’t just the cells on the bottom floor. The layout was all very similar. You assumed the building had been a mill or factory of some sort, but you had no clue as to what they would have made here.

Traversing one winding hallway after another, you finally arrived at your destination. The man you followed stood back as he opened a plain-looking door, the light eggshell paint on it chipping off at the edges. There was a long table in the middle of the room, and two lights hanging overhead, dimly lighting the place. Negan sat at the head of the table, in his same leather jacket from yesterday. His inky black hair was slicked back in perfect contrast to the surprisingly bright material of his white shirt. The bat was lying ominously on the table in front of him, and when you looked up to briefly meet his eyes, he was grinning at you.

“Long time, no see.” His voice echoed in the room and you could feel your heartbeats speeding up in your chest. The man who had led you here pushed you further into the room, before stepping in and closing the door behind himself. He approached Negan, holding out a key for what you guessed could only be your handcuffs. Negan palmed the tiny silver key, and the guard turned to leave. The door had quickly closed again, punctuating the fact that you were now utterly alone with the leader of the people who’d turned at least a dozen guns on you yesterday. Alone and at a disadvantage, the cuffs biting into the skin of your wrists as a reminder.

“So your people didn’t show up last night. What are we gonna do with you now?”

Read Chapter 2 here.

A/N: Sorry for the cliffhanger guys. I’ll definitely update sooner than last time. And maybe even get myself on a weekly schedule? Happy Holidays, and remember comments/suggestions always welcome!

Taglist: @ohokaybyethen , @miiraal

104 notes · View notes

rey-png · 6 years

Text

Bilgewater

Summary : "I feel like this place is going to be the death of me." Rey mumbles absently, gazing out at the murky horizon without quite seeing it. If she could unfocus her eyes enough, maybe, just maybe she could see something other than grief and horror between those gnarled trees. Kylo seems to consider her words carefully, his expression strained as he comes to stand at her side."This place is going to be the death of all of us."

---------

Following the mysterious death of her best friend, fifteen-year-old Rey is forced to flee the small southern town of D’qar in search of a fresh start. Only the demise of her beloved caretaker Ben Kenobi coaxes the young woman back to her home nearly a decade later. Her arrival carries a tempest that unearths the hollow town’s past and present horrors, threatening to pull Rey under the bayou she had fought so desperately to escape from.

Pairing : Rey / Kylo

Additional Tags : Southern Gothic, Cults, Past Child Abuse, Murder Mystery, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Memory Loss, Slow Burn, Eventual Romance, Alternate Universe - Twins, the solo twins to be exact, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Rating : Explicit

Chapters : 1/?

"To realize that all your life - all your love, all your hate, all your memory, all your pain, it was all the same thing. It was all the same dream, a dream that you had inside a locked room. A dream about bein' a person.... And like a lot of dreams, there's a monster at the end of it."

PROLOGUE

Brambles tug at too-thin arms, nipping at exposed flesh until her clothing is speckled with bright red stains. Her feet nearly send her sprawling as she trips over exposed tree roots, but still she presses onward. Physical discomfort is not nearly enough to slow her down as the baying of hounds rings through the tepid summer air.

Flashlight beams cut through the darkness around her, flickering like lightning bugs through the underbrush. They are accompanied by distorted voices, some of them calling her name, some of them wailing in despair. Even the pleading voice of her guardian isn’t enough to stop her in her tracks. Something far more sinister is following at her heels. She can feel it breathing down her neck.

Ahead she hears another cry, high pitched and frightened, one that quickens her pace and silences those at her back. ‘Rey!’ Cutting through the trees, her bare feet meet water, sinking deep into mud, splashing noisily through the bayou. The scum that coated the top of the murky water so dense she could have sworn it was earth.

‘Rey! Please!’

Rey tries to call out as she wades deeper into the mire, to assure them that she is on her way, but no words fall from her lips. She reaches up with trembling fingers to press against her mouth, wincing as they catch on the barbed wire that gagged her.

A pained whimper erupts from her chest, harmonizing with the brutal cry that rips through the swamp. Her movements become frenzied, the world around her warping and twisting, bleeding into inky blackness. She scans the gloomy, star studded horizon, slipping on the mud and rocks beneath her in her haste to find the source of such a blood-curdling lament.

The woman loses her footing, tumbling forward into the foul water with a strangled gasp. Hands shoot out to steady herself, only to catch something soft and cold beneath the ripples. Rey frowns, brow puckering as she clutches at the odd form. Narrowing her eyes through the dark, she tugs lightly, fighting to regain her balance.

A mottled grey face blooms from the star-laced water, bloated and terrible even in the half light. It’s the face of a girl, a face eerily similar to her own. Bubbles erupt from her gaping mouth, that bloodcurdling lament spewed right along with them. Bruised lids pop open to reveal yellowed, unseeing eyes that peer up at her in fear and agony.

Rey jerks backwards as dead hands clamp around her wrists, dragging her towards the terrible, dead face of Kira Kryze. The barbed wire around her mouth tightens as she shrieks in terror, the taste of copper thick on her tongue, gagging her as the shadows rise up around the girl and the corpse...

“It sounds like this dream correlates with the phone call you received yesterday.”

Rey’s unfocused eyes flick back to her therapist, blinking hard as she forces herself into the present. Even in the smog infused city, she can taste the foul water on the back of her tongue. Perhaps that was just the bile from the previous night though. She could still feel that suffocating darkness and the frozen grip of her best friend a she dragged them both down to the depths.

“It’s more than likely, right? I mean, nothing else could have triggered it... I haven’t had dreams like that in years .” They were the reason she was there in the first place, after all. Those grisly nightmares she could never quite remember. They’d began vividly and in earnest shortly after she’d left D’qar, night terrors that left her nearly incapacitated with exhaustion during the day.

Only a friendly intervention from her dear friend Finn several years back had propelled her into the office of a psychotherapist. ( Heavy eyes droop, her car swerves, Finn yells and grabs the steering wheel before they careen off the highway. He drives her to Norra Wexley’s every week after and pays for every session. )

Doctor Wexley sits upright in her chair, cool eyes fixating on her patient as she jots down another note on her pad without looking at it. Rey could swear the woman was able to see right through her sometimes, which is likely the reason she rarely scheduled appointments anymore unless absolutely necessary.

This was frighteningly necessary.

Upon waking, Rey had turned on every light in her apartment and sat huddled on her ratty sofa, shivering before the TV. It took well over an hour and every single grounding technique she’d been taught to calm her down. The moment she did, her shaking fingers punched in a text, which was replied to only five minutes later, confirming an appointment for later that afternoon.

Rey’s intuition had always been keen, growing up as she had. She knew things. It was her gift, of sorts.

Old Ben Kenobi was saved in her speed dial, and the number that flashed across her screen was not.

The moment she saw that fucking area code, she just knew .

Just as she knew the news of his death had been the catalyst here.

The young woman runs a hand over her weary face, wanting nothing more than to lace her fingers through her hair and tug so hard it all came out. Rey had done well for herself the last decade. She could think of home and withstand the occasional news her he would send without dissolving into a fit of despair. She wasn’t the scorned and frightened girl she once was. She could handle things damn it…

Wexley seemed to understand where her rampant thoughts were beginning to stray and was quick to interject “You’ve come a long way, Rey. This isn’t a regression. These feelings, these experiences are normal. I would have been surprised if you DIDN’T react as you did. This is a harsh blow.”

Rey nods silently, resting her chin on her hand as she stares off into space. She got that, but it sure as hell didn’t make her feel any better.

Where Rey came from, one didn’t air their dirty laundry because one always had their shit together. Those that didn’t or COULDN’T comply to those unspoken rules were considered frail and weak. The idea was so saturated that even if those around you cared, they were so over burdened with their own repressed issues they didn’t have the capacity to take on yours as well. It was why they were all rotting, why she was still rotting.

She’d read Doctor Wexley the same spiel time and time again until she sounded like a broken record. She can’t tolerate vulnerability in herself. It makes her skin crawl to be seen as anything less than a pillar of strength, even before a person who was paid for this nonsense. It’s why she keeps her mouth shut as her therapist barrels onward with her words of wisdom.

“This is not a sign of weakness.” Wexley punctuates her words with a sharp tap of her pen against her notepad “You know this… I don’t think you know how proud I am of you though.”

THAT catches Rey’s attention. She nearly gives herself whiplash meeting her eyes.

She could count the people who were proud of her on one hand.

Doctor Wexley smiles kindly at her and leans forward in her chair “You could have done things the easy way. You could have said you weren’t going to show up and you could have sold that house from here… But you bought that plane ticket. Rey, that’s a huge step. When you first came to see me, that girl would NEVER have considered what you did today.”

Now it’s Rey’s turn to smile, though it doesn’t quite meet her eyes. “I just wonder if I don’t have ulterior motives for doing this. I owe Ben that much but...”

There are some tragedies you never stop punishing yourself for, regardless your level of involvement in them. There are some people that will never stop punishing you for them too. There was a vicious cycle of injury, self-inflicted and otherwise that stemmed from that old town. Six years of therapy couldn’t rectify her need to crucify herself. Maybe it was all some subconscious ploy to drag her back.

“I think your heart is in the right place.”

Rey isn’t sure her heart exists in this place at all anymore.

She nods in agreement regardless and clambers wearily to her feet. Her hour was up and she had a lot of preparing to do, physically AND mentally.

“Thank you, Doctor Wexley… I guess I’d better go pack for a funeral.”

Me @ myself: don't you dare start a new fic when you have an entire series you need to work on also me: laughs manically as i hit publish

Anyway here is the southern gothic fic nobody asked for. This has been rolling around in my brain forever and I've finally started piecing it together. It's heavily inspired by True Detective, which I've been binging recently. Needless to say, this is going to be INCREDIBLY dark. It's sort've my therapy fic and will explore the repercussions of trauma as I've seen it in myself, in those around me, and from what I've learned from research, therapists and other professionals. Please mind the tags. I'll be adding more as I write this & will add warnings in each chapter as I see fit, namely where sexual abuse is concerned.

A short snappy set up! I'm a quarter of the way done with the next chapter so it should be up soon! Comments and reblogs are fabulous! Please let me know what you think <3

#reylo #kylo x rey #reylo au #reylo fic #reylo fam #southern gothic au #crime au #*solstuff #sb: choose a fic thats most important to u #me but crying: I CAN'TTTT #anyway this fic is gonna be insane and i'm excited to write it

2 notes · View notes

chokememrstark · 6 years

Text

Requiem Of Memories // Part 12

Ship: Samifer (Sam Winchester / Lucifer)

Words: 2053 (Chapter 12 / 15)

Fic Summary: Sam still feels awkward after what happened between him and Lucifer, but he enjoys spending time near the angel and hates when he has to leave. On another day when Lucifer is out doing what he does, Sam has a conversation with Meg that opens his eyes about a lot of things and puts everything he knows about this world's Devil into a new perspective.

angst, hurt & comfort, alternative universe, au!lucifer, mourning, depression, blood and gore, nightmares, loneliness, guilt

Note: I highly recommend to read Nightmares Become Reality before this, otherwise the premise of the story and the setting might not make much sense.

Tagging: @shebahda @sassysupernaturalsweetheart @spnyoucantkeepmedown @brieflymaximumprincess @kajuned @archingangel @this-darkness-light @secretlydaydreaminglifeaway @humongouscandycoffee

If you want off the tag list or want to be added, just drop me an ask or IM!

Read on AO3!

Maybe it was just Sam’s imagination, but it felt like he spent more time with Lucifer after they had kissed a few times. It was casual and very similar to the way they spent time before, but it felt like it was more and Sam didn’t really mind. The next day Lucifer’s power had already recharged enough so he could heal himself completely and he informed Sam that the survivors of the Detroit massacre were now with them on the island, just to keep them safe. Of course this made Sam raise a brow, as he wasn’t used to Lucifer caring for his demons, but maybe this one was different in this way too. He had been surprised quite a few times already after all.

Lucifer was still considerate and friendly, nothing in his behavior towards Sam changed apart from him staying with him longer. There were no more kisses and no more intimate touches, but it didn’t become overly awkward either. Sometimes one of them would crack an ambiguous comment or joke to which they both laughed, but none of that felt forced at all, like Sam had feared. They were just the same as before, even though he often thought about their kisses when he laid in bed at night and tried to fall asleep. It was hard not to, really. Sam couldn’t figure out what the truth behind his joy in these moments had been, but every time he thought of them he could barely suppress a smile.

It took about a week before Lucifer told Sam that he had to go on another trip and would stay away for a few days, but he ordered Meg to look after Sam from time to time, so he wouldn’t miss anything. This time, the hunter was visibly sad to see the other leave and voiced his concern about his safety. It wasn’t something he usually did, but this time he couldn’t hold it back.

“Don’t worry, Sam,” Lucifer said with a smile. “I don’t expect any fighting this time, so everything will be fine.”

“I hope so,” Sam sighed and looked sadly at the angel. “Just promise me you’ll be back in one piece, okay? It’s boring when I’m alone here.”

“I promise I will be back soon. Until then, Meg will make sure you have everything you need.”

Sam didn’t like seeing Lucifer leave, but he knew that there were things to take care of, so he didn’t complain. Instead, Sam decided to tidy up his room and find something to distract himself with until Lucifer came back. It was evening when Meg eventually showed up, holding a huge plate in her hands that made Sam’s mouth water.

“Dinner is served,” Meg exclaimed when she put the place down and revealed all the delicious treats for the human. Sam couldn’t have been more obvious with his appetite when he plopped onto a chair next to the plate and began eating. Meg seemed to be very amused when she sat down across of the human. “Damn, is Lucifer starving you or what?”

Sam shook his head and swallowed the bite in his mouth before answering.

“He’s not starving me,” he said with a smile, getting another sausage from the plate. “But these are delicious!”

“Good,” Meg laughed. “Eat up, you need it after all.”

“How are you doing now?” Sam wanted to know, trying to initiate some small talk. “Did everything heal well?”

“Sure, demons have a pretty effective way of healing wounds,” Meg grinned kind of proud. “Took a few days and I was as good as new. Some others were off worse, but by now everyone is recovered.”

“I’m glad everything is okay,” Sam sighed. “Lucifer was very worried, but he said the island would be the safest place for everyone.”

“It is, he’s right,” Meg agreed. “They don’t know we are here, so we will be safe. Lucifer is patrolling with groups of demons daily to make sure the wardings are intact and everything is the way it should be.”

“I noticed that. He’s taking this very serious.”

“Of course, we can’t lose any more innocent people.”

“I wouldn’t call demons innocent, but you are probably right,” Sam huffed. He was about to take a spoon full of vegetables when Meg made him stop dead in his movements.

“Who said the innocents were demons?”

“What?” Sam asked confused and gave her a weird glare. “But, I thought Lucifer’s servants were all demons?”

“Of course, but Detroit was a safe haven for everyone, including humans,” Meg huffed. “They attacked only an hour after we took in a family of four, all human, and they slaughtered every single one of them. Lucifer was furious when he found out, you couldn't imagine.”

“Okay, wait a second…” This didn’t make sense. Why would Lucifer’s demons take in humans and why would Lucifer himself be angry that they were killed? Shouldn’t it be the other way around in both cases? “I can’t follow you, sorry.”

“I don’t know how much you know, but we don’t exactly run around and kill humans,” Meg scoffed.

“I didn’t think you would, but taking them in?” Sam still didn’t get it. “Wouldn’t that be, you know, the other side’s job?”

“The angels keeping humans safe?” Meg laughed so much, Sam thought she would choke from not breathing anymore. All the while he just sat there and stared at her in complete confusion. When her laugh finally ebbed away, her voice was amused beyond reason. “They prefer to smite them on sight, no mercy for humans on their minds.”

“That makes no sense at all…”

Sam tried to imagine angels mercilessly hunting and slaughtering innocent humans, but his mind couldn’t cope with this information. Why on earth would they do something so horrible and cruel?

“You haven’t met the angels in our world yet, huh?” Meg asked with a smirk. “They aren’t really the protective kind you might know. They are ruthless to the very core.”

“Our angels aren’t protective either, but they… they don’t kill humans if they can save them. It’s usually demons who do that…”

“Welcome to Bizarro World, I guess your rules don’t apply here.”

“Okay, now I need some answers.” The food was long forgotten because this new piece of information was all that occupied Sam’s mind at the moment. “If Lucifer protects humans, what’s his goal? I mean, what is this all about if not him trying to end humanity?”

“ End humanity? Are you joking?” Meg laughed again, but this time way more sarcastically. “Lucifer tries to save what’s left of your kind. It’s not easy because the angels literally hunt them down, but sometimes we are successful.”

“That makes absolutely no sense..."

“I don’t know how your apocalypse went down, but ours was pretty straight forward. Lucifer faced his brother Michael on the battlefield and one of them snapped. Small hint, it wasn’t the archangel you know.”

“What do you mean, Michael snapped? What happened?”

“I only know what others told me, sorry, I wasn’t there. But apparently Michael lost it when Lucifer wouldn’t comply to his rules. He wanted to fight, he wanted to settle this once and for all, and Lucifer didn’t play his game. He unleashed a firewall that burned everything within a twenty mile radius and Lucifer barely escaped his anger. Ever since we have to hide like ants because Michael’s troops are always trying to find and destroy us. Sometimes we gain a bit of ground, but more often than not we are forced to hide even better... Detroit is just an example of the way we live sadly.”

“Damn…” Sam hissed. He didn’t expect something so groundbreaking different going down, but he also had no reason to think Meg was lying. There was nothing to gain from doing that, so she must be saying the truth.

“You said your apocalypse happened too, right?” Meg asked curious. “What happened there? What was different?”

“Well,” Sam started, but his throat was too dry to continue. He quickly took a few sips of water and tried again. “They met too, but not like this. I was there because Lucifer possessed me, but I saw everything that happened. They just… talked? They never actually fought though. I managed to jump back into the cage with Lucifer and Michael before anything worse could happen.”

It was hard swallowing down the memories of this fateful day. He remembered everything as if it happened merely hours ago - how Lucifer had beat up his brother and how he suddenly retreated and all he could feel was pain and sadness; how he took control and jumped into what should have been his end. It was as clear as day.

“You jumped into hell, with both of them?” Meg sounded shocked. Sam have her a shrug and a nod. “Damn, Giant, you have some balls to do that.”

“Are you kidding me?” Sam laughed. “I was scared out of my mind! I knew I would die down there but I had to do it, there was no other way. The sole reason to say yes to Lucifer was to get him back in the cage. When things didn't work out and they actually met I grabbed Michael’s arm the last moment and just jumped without thinking.”

“As I said, you got some balls.” Meg seemed to be very impressed. “I don’t know about your Michael, but ours is like a rabid dog. He even kills his angels if they don’t succeed to follow his orders, no matter how ridiculous they were. You’ve dodged a dangerous bullet.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I understand the whole picture yet.” Sam shook his head. “Are you trying to tell me that Lucifer’s goal isn’t to end humanity and destroy earth? That he’s not the bad guy in this scenario?”

“If Lucifer is the bad guy, I’m an angel,” Meg huffed. “He’s the only one standing between Michael and the complete destruction of this world as we know it.”

Sam was completely out of words. How was this possible? How could it be that the Devil was actually trying to save this world and humanity, while his brother tried to destroy it with his angels? If this was true, he had thought about Lucifer in a very awful way until now. All this time he had thought the other hated his kind and tried to kill every single one of them while throwing this world into chaos. He couldn’t believe that it was actually the other way around now.

“That’s not what you expected, isn’t it?” Meg asked and Sam nodded weakly.

“Our Lucifer… he wasn’t the good guy,” Sam mumbled. “He said it himself, he just wasn’t. But what your Michael does… even he would have never gone this far.”

Saying this out loud made Sam feel like a traitor, but it was the truth, wasn’t it? Lucifer had said it himself. But even though he had sacrificed a whole town of humans to summon Death and was responsible for the death of many, many more, Sam didn’t think he would have gone as far as this world’s Michael did. For his Lucifer humans had been an annoyance and a plague, but not so much that he would have actively hunted them and killed them for fun. As much as Sam tried to imagine it, he simply couldn’t. That just wasn’t the Lucifer he knew, good or bad.

“Well, you’re not in Kansas anymore, Alice. This is Wonderland and it sucks.”

Sam smiled weakly, but he couldn’t deny she was right. It was almost impossible to stomach this new information, but it felt as if something in Sam had known the truth for a very long time now. Lucifer had never acted the way someone who was trying to destroy this world would have, or not? When he thought back, even all those years ago, when his own Lucifer had possessed him, there had been no such intention. All he remembered was the overwhelming desire to stop all of this madness... and still, he couldn't process the true meaning of Meg's words just yet.

In the end, this was most definitely Wonderland and it sucked massively, Sam could accept at least that without any questioning.

#samifer #sam x lucifer #sam winchester #spn lucifer #requiem of memories #multi chapter fic #myfics #chapter 12 #angst #finally the truth comes out #but you probably already expected something like this XD

7 notes · View notes

neen-writes · 7 years

Text

Iron Legends: Reforged -- Chapter 15

Series: Fairy Tail

Characters: Gajeel, Levy, plus appearances from Natsu and Lucy.

Genre: Hurt/comfort, Sci-fi

Summary: The old lab had always been fuel for a good story, something you would half-heartedly joke about going to sometime. Some did, and when they came back they never talked about it again. The legends circulated, telling of ghosts, monsters, and anything else someone would be likely to conjure up about an abandoned building. But even with all the stories meant to keep everyone away, there are still those for whom the intrigue is too tempting.

Read the Reforged chapters on FFnet here, Ao3 here, and read the entire original story here!! AND find this fic’s soundtrack here!

Note: Here it is! I found my motivation to finish this edit in all of your words of support. You guys are the best, honestly, and I am so lucky to have you all in this community, Every one of you who said something, even just in tags, made me want to finish this. I struggled with editing this chapter and making enough changes because I love this part of the story so much as is, but I think I managed to throw in a little bit of new stuff! That all said, It would mean a lot of yall left kudos or comments on this chapter on Ao3, or if you want a little giggle then read my foreword for this chapter update over there. Because I have decided I do NOT care what little trolls on the internet say and I will NOT let them steal this hobby from me, or chase me away from something I SO love doing. ANYWAY, I hope yall enjoy!

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 5 Ch. 6 Ch. 7 Ch. 8 Ch. 9 Ch.10 Ch. 11 Ch. 12 Ch. 13 Ch. 14

“Chief!” The young lieutenant’s voice called out across the snow, echoing inside the building where Igneel found himself supervising. “Come see this!” The urgency in his voice brought the red-head outside quickly, trudging through the white frost.

“What have you found, Laharl?” he asked, eyes scanning the area around them. The other officer regarded him with a furrowed brow, standing over a specific area in the snow. Other officers had fanned out over the rest of the property, seeking any clues or signs of activity.

“Signs of a struggle,” Laharl replied. He gestured with his hands at areas of the snow that were shallower than the rest, even though a fresh layer of snow had settled over it. “If we had come here maybe a day later, we might not have noticed this at all, the new snow would have covered it,” he explained, “From what I can see there is a definite trail from that window,” Laharl pointed, then trailed his finger in the direction that followed the set of indentations, “To around here where it looks like the struggle took place in this entire area. Right now it looks to be a radius of about 100 feet, but there might be even more. You can almost see the soil underneath in some places.”

“Do you think it was the girl?” Igneel questioned. To his initial disappointment, his lieutenant shook his head.

“No. These are too large to have been her, based on her description, but it doesn’t rule out that she was here. I’d wager these tracks are male by the size, and there are multiple sets.” Laharl adjusted his glasses, glancing at the intrigued chief. “There was definitely more than one person here, I’d say no more than a day ago judging by the snow cover. They left in that direction,” he pointed towards the back perimeter, with the open gate, “And the tracks turn to tire imprints.”

A concerned scowl fell onto Igneel’s features, and he crossed his arms. “Does any of this help us?”

There was a heavy pause from the younger man, before he stepped over to another area of snow that looked to have been freshly disturbed by him earlier. The red-head followed close behind, less than thrilled by the hesitation. “Depends how we’re defining helpful,” he said lowly, as he gestured to a spot in the snow that stopped Igneel straight in his tracks.

There was a large, pink area in the ice. The area of discoloration seemed to be the epicenter of the disturbances in the snow, and where Laharl had moved the fresher powder, he could see the more distinct, deep crimson beneath. Now almost turning black with time.

“God damn it…” Igneel hissed under his breath, running a weary hand through his red locks. Between the signs of struggle they had found in Levy’s home, and now this… things were not looking good. In any respect. But with the discovery of the blood, they had just been given their cause to travel to Hargeon. “Have you—“

Laharl held up a small, labeled glass vial, with watery red contents within. “Already done. The chill of the snow will have helped preserve the sample, we have a good chance of running it for a match. I’ve already taken photos of the scene as well.”

Igneel nodded, at the very least proud of his officer’s efficiency. Makaraov had made a good call recommending him. But now, he had to work hard to steady his breathing. I can’t let Natsu find this out, he thought, only able to imagine the reaction from his equally fiery son. “Put a STAT on that sample, I want it processed as soon as possible. Make sure all of this,” he waved to the area around them, “Finds its way into the report and nowhere else but Makaraov’s desk. The results as well. If we can match it to Levy or any of the missing people we have our case.” A curt nod from Laharl ended the conversation, and Igneel turned from him to leave.

Even with the rush on the evidence, it would at least be another day or so until they got a match, regardless of how promising all this was. And even more time after that to present and evaluate all of the evidence for the case. We don’t have that kind of time. With the most chilling piece of the puzzle uncovered, the entire tone of the investigation had changed. Levy’s well being had become significantly more urgent.

They were now walking a very fine line between a rescue, or a recovery mission. And he hoped with everything he had that it was former.

By her count, it was day three when he brought her up from bed rest again to show her the training hall he had mentioned the day before.

In front of her was a large, thick glass panel that extended across the wall in front of them. The room they were in was fairly small, only large enough for a few people, and an equally small control panel was just in front of the window. Jose had positioned himself there shortly after they entered, and Levy looked down through the window at the large open space below. Is this an arena? Levy swallowed hard.

“I want you to see his progress. What a difference another day can make,” the scientist spoke with his back to her, eagerly looking down at the arena. Levy didn’t even bother to look at the man, remaining stiff in front of the window. She was going to see him... “Among other things. But I needn’t bother you with the technical details…”

At first glance, the empty room just appeared to be an expansive, round area. However, multiple compartments lining the walls, and a large set of doors on opposite ends of the room hinted there was more to it. She leaned forward to try and look at the ceiling, which was vaulted high enough make her think all the combat in here would not be limited to the ground. The only details she could make out at the top were some air vents; exhaust ducts maybe. They almost look like the vents in a chemistry hood… she thought, wondering what could possibly happen within that would require that kind of ventilation. “I take it no one can see into this room, just out?” she asked, tight-lipped.

“Of course,” he replied quickly.

He loves this. He’s playing with me by showing this to me. He could just as easily lock me up and keep me away. Or worse, turn me into one of his subjects… she thought bitterly, her eyes sweeping the room around them briefly. Levy couldn’t have been more powerless here, but it didn’t stop her from studying her surroundings every chance she got.

Memorizing the way to every location, watching the fingers punching codes into every key-pad, and making note of each control system she could identify. The blunette was building a mental map, and marking the spots of interest along the way. If she was given a piece of paper, she’d be able to draw the entire layout of what she had thus far seen from memory, down to the last detail.

Levy was broken from her thoughts by a loud, echoing click, and watched the doors on either side of the room open slowly. From one door, a lithe man with blonde hair stepped through. She squinted to get a better look at him, noticing that the empty expression on his face was eerily similar to Rogue’s, and she realized she had seen him in the holding wing the day before. He had no restraints on his hands, but judging by the blank look on his face, it didn’t seem like he needed it. A model, conditioned citizen.

“X773, our light user. One of my proudest conditioning products next to our dear Rogue. The two work quite well together actually, we were able to forge a very interesting dynamic with them and their original conditioning process. And they are quite easy to bait against one another, should one ever seek to act up,” Jose chimed in, but Levy’s eyes were fixed on the other set of doors, barely registering what he told her. She knew who was meant to come through, she wouldn’t have been there otherwise, and she wasn’t ready for it. “He responds well to Sting,” Jose added, bringing her back to the other man.

The blonde stood, composed, staring at the darkness beyond the other doorway.

Sure enough, a large figure slowly ambled out of the dark, feet dragging on the ground. The sight of him struck her cold to her core. Subconsciously, Levy stepped forward to see him better.

His hair was even wilder than it was when they met, concealing much of his face. His entire posture was that of submission, shoulders hunched and cuffed arms hanging limply in front of him. Gajeel stopped in the light, and the door slid shut behind him with a loud boom that didn’t even make him flinch.

Levy’s eyes shifted to Jose, watching him punch something into the pad by the window. A buzz followed, and suddenly the box-cuffs released from Gajeel remotely, dropping to the floor.

There was a moment where she looked between the two of them, and the setting where they now stood opposite one another, with nothing else in the room. The realization dawned on her heavily, like a slap in the face. “You’re… fighting them?” Levy breathed, finally understanding the purpose of the setup, and connecting it to the ‘trials’ she had read in the journals.

“Testing them,” Jose corrected, “How else are we to keep them sharp, and show prospective buyers how their merchandise can perform in combat?”

“What if they refuse?” Levy’s eyes focused on the motionless iron dragon.

“They don’t.”

Another loud buzz filled the room, and the blonde immediately put his hands out to his sides. It seemed that the noise signaled the beginning of the test, but Gajeel had yet to respond like he intended to participate.

There was a brief hesitation, before the other man rushed his opponent, closing the distance as a blur with hands glowing white. Only a puff of dust indicated where he had stood seconds before.

Her stomach dropped when Gajeel flew to the side, impacting the side wall with such force she could hear the boom reverberate around them. He slumped to the floor, and rolled over slowly, barely trying to haul himself up onto his elbows. Sting cast his eyes in their direction, knowing he was being watched even if he could not see. There was something expectant in his gaze, seeking either instruction or approval.

She could hear an annoyed growl from the scientist next to her, who reached for the same control pad and pressed a different key. “Continue!” he barked, and immediately the light-user whirled for Gajeel. So obedient, no questioning.

An intercom system? Must be one way unless he presses that button to speak, Levy thought, before the next burst of movement drew her attention back to the room. She began to wonder what Jose had meant about him using Sting and Rogue against each other. Could it be… how he used me against Gajeel? The journals had mentioned them being siblings… would he go so far as threaten them? To get the other to perform? The overwhelming answer in her head was yes. He would go that far. Even farther.

The fight was a total sweep. Several minutes felt like hours as Sting thrashed a non-responsive Gajeel, throwing him back and forth across the room. Every strike he made on the iron dragon was accompanied with a flash of white light, and for a split second Levy admired how brilliant it was. But he eventually stopped even using his own abilities, and just fists alone. At best Gajeel rolled once, and she could hear a deep, sickening groan of pain. But nothing else. He didn’t even try to block.

The tension from Jose only seemed to build, and he shot a sharp glance at Levy, looking at her in a way that implied he was trying to think of something. Almost like he had started to blame her for Gajeel’s disappointing ‘performance.’ Looking back to the comm, he spoke into it again. “Enough!” The doors on either side of the room opened back up. “Place his restraints back on and proceed back into your hall.” Sting, without hesitation, retrieved the apparatus and placed it back over the barely conscious man’s hands. Grabbing him by the arm, he dragged him to the one set of open doors and tossed him within, before proceeding back to his own exit.

On day four, Jose didn’t come for her. But on day five, she was brought to the same place, to watch the same event unfold. Sting adeptly tossed a weakened Gajeel, and she found herself unable to watch. The match was significantly shorter than the first.

Day six was Rogue. When the buzzer signalled the start of the match, he did not rush his battered opponent as eagerly as his brother had. The moment of hesitation did not go unnoticed by neither Levy or Jose, but it only took shouted commands from the scientist to ultimately do as he was told. Albeit, with a great deal less intensity than the previous battle with Gajeel at the lab. More than once it had been clear that he was pulling his punches, less inclined to attack the already downed dragon. Almost as though something had been taken from him in that first fight. Or given.

It took one hit with a tendril of black energy to knock Gajeel down with no sign of getting back up. Barely even a groan. Rogue stood there, staring almost anxiously at the window, waiting for a command to either proceed, or put him away. By that time, Jose was in a near fury, pacing violently. He muttered something about deprivation and failures, and Levy took note of how easily he lost his proud composure when the world did not operate as he saw fit. “God damn useless…” he muttered, “I will not waste him…!” The scientist whirled to the control panel and hit the intercom, “Put him back and return to your entry!”

Rogue did as he was told using his shadows to place his restraints back on and drag him back into his hallway, while the shadow-user turned wordlessly to his own.

“The reintroduction to the treatments should not be this debilitating. He should at least have some residual responses from his past conditioning!” he hissed under his breath, barely pausing in his pacing. He turned his aggravation to Levy, “That useless animal has one last chance to get himself together before I ‘bring you back to life’ and put you in there with Rogue and let him watch. I will not let this turn into wasted time and funds!” he snapped, causing her to back away from him with horrified understanding on her features. She knew he planned to use her in some way against Gajeel, the way he used the brothers against each other, but the way he planned to struck her with renewed fear.

As long as he was using Gajeel, in any manner, he needed her on standby. Because she was his control on the iron dragon. Even if he had already exerted her effect on Gajeel, Jose had no plans on letting it stop there. If Gajeel continued to defy him, if he lashed out and lost it, Jose could just use her at a moment’s notice, and she couldn’t even be sure if that would stop him at this point. If Gajeel continued to do anything but what the scientist wanted, Jose planned to use her. In whatever manner he needed to. And the idea of being in the same space as Rogue again kept her up that entire night.

It was another full day before she saw Jose again, thankfully. She’d gotten not a wink of sleep, and spent the day in the infirmary feeling miserable, staring at the ceiling. Jose’s warning hung heavy on her, and every time she tried to close her eyes in the night, all she saw was Rogue and his weapons flying for her, igniting a throb of pain in her shoulder. The threat of her being exposed—completely unprotected this time—to that again was enough to keep her tossing through the night.

Her reprieve from the scientist’s torment, however, was short-lived. She was fetched again the next day, and found herself staring again at the arena. He had less to say to her this time, and just stared seriously into the space below. He seemed more expectant, and more tense.

The familiar click and hiss of the releasing doors finally echoed around them, and she watched the dark exits anxiously. First, an auburn-haired man emerged into the area, walking smoothly and confidently, head high. Levy vaguely remembered seeing him when she was in the holding wing, and wondered why Jose would switch opponents on the last trial. Is this is trump card to get Gajeel to do what he wanted? she thought.

The blunette leaned forward with intrigue to look him over. He had the same hand restraints that Gajeel usually wore, but shockingly had also had a metal mask over his mouth that locked behind his head. With the additional restraint, she wondered how much difficulty this subject gave them in comparison to Gajeel. From what she could see, one eye was forced shut by a thin, pink scar that ran down the side of his face, and by his walk he seemed very familiar with the setup. Although at the moment, it did not seem that he had any intentions of being anywhere but there. He raised his arms and tilted his head, staring at the window patiently waiting for them to be released.

“X791. Our toxin user, though he seems to far more enjoy basic combat,” Jose spoke up, “But more importantly, infuriating enough to make me want to hit him. Another who shows great promise in ability but resists conditioning with gusto… if anyone is going to ignite our dear beast, it’s him,” he explained. “Calls himself Cobra, for some reason he doesn’t bother to go by his real name.”

Shortly after, Gajeel entered. Or rather, staggered his way in. The flesh that she could see was blossoming with purple bruises, and fresh scabs littered his skin. His legs shook and almost gave out more than once waiting for the match to begin. As the doors closed behind them, Jose hit the same command that released the restraints as before, freeing both subjects.

The one-eyed man lifted his hands and rubbed his wrists, focusing on Gajeel and giving him a once over. She could hear a chuckle through the speakers, surprised that he had made any sound at all with how silent Rogue and Sting had been. There was life--no--individuality in his eyes.

“I’d heard that you’d come back,” the sly man called out to Gajeel, who seemed to flinch at the sound of another’s voice. At least it was some sign of life. “How nice of you to join us. Here to fuck up our chances at freedom again?” Cobra tilted his head, a single violet eye scrutinizing the silent beast across from him. The lack of answer or even an acknowledgment of any kind brought a scowl to his face, and as the buzzer sounded, he rushed Gajeel with unbridled eagerness.

Levy watched with a painful sense of déjà vu as Gajeel shot back into the doors he had come through, and Cobra stood for just a brief moment with a knee raised from the kick.

“Fight back,” he ordered in a half growl as he strode towards the slumped figure. He stood over Gajeel, reaching down to grab the front of his tattered shirt, lifting him off the ground with a strained heave and spinning him to put his back to the room. “Would you fight if I told you a secret?” Cobra whispered to him with an ever so slight tilt of his head. There was no response. “Pff. Suit yourself.” He pulled back a fist, and in another blur, Gajeel was flying back across the length of the room.

She didn’t know how much more of this she could take. She felt like she was drowning in her inability to do anything about this torture, and the other man hadn’t even shown any of his abilities yet. “He’s not…” Levy had started to say, and an annoyed grumble answered her, cutting her off.

“He will,” Jose snapped. “Just wait.”

Cobra rolled his head, cracking his neck, and glared at the pathetic lump on the floor across the arena. He knew Gajeel before. What he had been before the collapse. He’d seen that beast in his cage, he’d even faced him once before. There was a fire in his eyes that had never gone out, a hatred that fueled him every day and turned him more and more into an uncontrollable animal, all the way until he found a way to channel that rage to try and engineer an escape. That man was not the same one that was in front of him now. A mere husk, just existing and waiting to die was what faced him.

And it infuriated him. He would not let him just give up, they had no chance otherwise. Giving up let them win. The brothers were a lost cause, and he had not seen the powerhouse since they were moved here, which left him as the one beacon of defiance against these monsters. Damned if he would allow Gajeel to join those obedient ranks.

“Fight back, damn it. Quit wallowing and fight me! Coward!” he snarled, rushing again. “No wonder you couldn’t protect her!” He threw a kick towards the side of the downed man, but his eye widened when an iron hand took hold of his ankle. Cobra’s violet eyes met with blazing red ones, glowing in the shadow of his face. Fangs glistened in an animal snarl that cut through the air as a sudden and involuntary chill shot through him. There he is, he thought, just before he was violently yanked to the side and found himself impacting the wall for a change.

Levy stared, wide-eyed, at the sudden change. She saw, right in front of her, the effect she had on him.

Cobra coughed to regain his breath but recovered quickly, and watched the iron beast slowly pull himself to his feet, remaining hunched and swaying gently on his feet. Gajeel looked completely feral; everything in his demeanor, even the atmosphere changed. Iron scales spread quickly over his body, and his hands flexed threateningly as he rolled his shoulders with a deep, rumbling growl. He tightened into a stance, planting his feet firmly on the ground. “How... do you know that?” he hissed, his voice reverberating in his chest.

Cobra shook off his surprise and the brewing wariness in his gut. “Don’t you remember? And we were so close once,” Cobra teased, “I hear everything,” the poison user smirked, a dark miasma beginning to swirl around his hands.

That answer wasn’t good enough, as Gajeel coiled and rushed forward at the same time as Cobra. The serpent dropped and slid at the last instant, dodging an overhead punch as he threw a maroon wave up at the dragon’s chin. The iron dragon flew straight upwards towards the high ceiling, but quickly oriented himself in the air such that the balls of his feet hit the roof and absorbed the impact. With a roar, he shot straight back down at Cobra before he even had time to shift from the previous attack.

A cloud of the toxic miasma exploded outwards shrouded them both, and Cobra let out a shaky breath, crouching mere feet from where the iron dragon had hit. The outward wave had been just enough to redirect an attack he otherwise might not have been fast enough to evade. In the dark, he saw glowing eyes swing towards him, iron bands already locked over his nose and mouth to avoid breathing in the poison. Cobra beat him to the next attack, launching a shoulder charge straight at his chest. Gajeel was thrust back by what looked like a missile of toxic vapor, with Cobra at its center. The iron dragon’s back hit the wall once more, but without wasting a second, he lashed out to take Cobra by the throat and swing him outwards to the right onto the wall next to him.

Gajeel released him, only long enough to push off the wall, spin, and position himself back in front of Cobra and take him by the neck again. Effortlessly, he slid and lifted his panting opponent up the wall by the suffocating grip and held him there, gradually tightening his hold. Immediately the miasma dissipated, no longer maintained by the user who was now just struggling to breathe. With his free hand, Gajeel ripped away the bands from the lower half of his face and released several heavy breaths to make up for what he held in.

His head burned with the desire to destroy his opponent, thinking of nothing else but killing what threatened him. Every blow, every surge of pain and agony over the last few days only fueled his rage. No other coherent thought existed besides winning. Every sense was electrified with fury, and the “Enough!” over the intercom was only a tiny echo in the back of his tempestuous thoughts. He couldn’t even put together his own words, not sure if he’d be able to get out more than incoherent snarls.

Levy was stunned to silence and shallow breaths by the brutality that she had just witnessed. It seemed like it had gone on forever, but in reality it hadn’t even been five minutes. Who was this? Was this what they had wanted him to be? She’d never seen her dragon this way, but some part of her knew that this was always in him. She’d read the journals, read the article about the collapse. And even if he wasn’t the one that killed all those people, he had started it. And here he was, looking barely human, set off by the mere mention of her.

At first, Jose seemed completely satisfied by the change. Like this was exactly what he had expected would happen. But with Gajeel hovering over a struggling Cobra, not responding to his commands, he became frantic.

“Th-that secret!” Cobra coughed out, grasping uselessly at the iron arm that held him. His voice, literally strangled, wasn’t loud enough to be picked up by the comm to the observation room, especially with Jose as distracted as he was. “Don’t you—“

Gajeel barked a vicious snarl at Cobra, threatening him to shut up immediately. Permanently. But the man continued to resist, coughing out words. ‘I said enough!’ The voice called out again overhead, unheeded.

“Damn it,” Jose hissed under his breath. “This was the exact problem as…” The man shook his head, using different keys on the pad now, not seeming to be able to punch them fast enough to keep up with the subjects below.

Using his last bit of strength, Cobra used a weak pulse of his miasma to push against Gajeel, loosening his grip only enough for Cobra to slip out and drop back onto his feet. The man lurched forward, taking Gajeel by the shoulders before he could react. “She’s here, you idiot,” he whispered quickly into Gajeel’s ear, knowing they didn’t have much time.

As Cobra staggered back against the wall, the dragon threw him a demanding look with some semblance of humanity returning to his features. The iron scales immediately gave way to flesh, and every bit of feral rage he felt started to melt away. He staggered slightly on his feet, sides heaving as the adrenaline left him with only a nauseating twist in his gut. Those four words had knocked the wind out of him, completely. “I told you. I hear everything,” Cobra hissed.

At that moment, two of the several compartments in the walls on either side of the fighters opened. Levy watched what appeared to be two narrow barrels emerge and point abruptly to the subjects. Two quiet shots and a sharp sudden pain brought both of them to the floor. Regardless, Cobra fought as long as he could to keep talking. “Now, you better learn how to use that again and get us out of here... They still don’t know, what you did that day… and you’re not… the only one he stole someone from…” he mumbled, feeling consciousness leave him quickly with the effects of the tranquilizers.

Before losing himself entirely, Gajeel turned his heavy eyes to the tinted window raised up on the wall above them. ‘She’s here, you idiot.’

It was thankfully an action whose intent was not caught by the researcher next to Levy. It couldn’t have been. Because she knew her dragon better than he ever would.

The look in his eyes was enough to leave her feeling completely exposed. He’d never have to speak the words for her to know what he said with that look.

I’m coming for you.

#gajevy #ftfanfics #fanfiction #fairy tail #iron legends

34 notes · View notes