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neko-rogers · 4 years

Text

All I Ever Need

Peter warned you about the dangers of online dating.

words: 4,007

tags: dark!peter parker, strong and explicit non-consensual elements, manipulation, implications of sex-pollen or drugging, lowkey breeding kink

a/n: please forgive me! i’m still new to writing dark!versed fics <3 but this was a request and i couldn’t resist (: if you liked this then you are free to help me out and improve my writing by leaving feedback or suggesting prompts that i could write about

It was emotionally crushing.

The moment you decided to create a Tinder account led you to all sorts of feelings.

As someone who had been busy with your final year of college, you never thought of engaging much in the relationships territory. With all these, you could only focus on finally graduating and obtaining a stable job. The idea that you were providing for yourself, without having to depend on a significant other, was fulfilling.

It did not help further considering that most of your group of friends were just as hardworking as you. Peter Parker was one the closest and much more than just a good influence. Truly too good to be true.

Nonetheless, you finally tried out those infamous dating applications you have been hearing. Despite warnings from your friends about how dangerous it can be, you were confident that you were smart enough to handle it.

“You're still hung up on that app?” Peter interrupts alongside.

The professor dismissed the class moments ago, and at least half of the people already exited the room. As always, Peter waited for you before heading for next subject.

Admittedly, you were a bit caught up with your phone. Swiping left and right sounded boring, but for some reason you found it amusing how convenient it can be – the interaction and messages was a bonus. “So what if I am?”

You lock your phone before Peter got to snoop further. Both your reflections could be seen amongst the black screen as you placed it on top of your other textbooks to be carried.

“Any interaction online is dangerous,” he explains. “I thought you out of all people should know that, Y/N.”

You roll your eyes at his remark. “You’re only a year older than me yet you sound like my dad. You know I’m already twenty-two, right?”

“I’d hate to be the one to say I told you so when your world comes crashing down,” he consoles.

“Oh thats bullshit, Parker.” You could almost laugh at his sense of ridicule. “Like you said, I’m smart. I’m sure I’ll be able to handle online dating. Have faith in me, yeah?”

“Yeah, whatever. It’s fine.” Peter nods, still beside as you walked along the hallway. “It’s not like you’re already going on a date with one of them, right.” His assumption comes off as a statement rather than a question.

However, you stay quiet seeming as it was best to leave it unanswered.

“Oh no, please don’t tell me you’re seeing someone already.” Peter looks back when you decided to stay a meter behind him to save you from the guilt.

“It’s just a second date, it won’t harm me,” you defended. “Plus, he goes to the community college nearby.” “What?! You two are already on your second date before you told me, or anyone of your friends?” You could understand where his temper was coming from, but in the end, it was none of their business.

“I know, but I just thought it wasn’t a big deal. Besides this is about me and Jacob.”

Fortunately enough, you and Peter have the same subject which was BioChemistry. This time, he followed you behind while you avoided his gaze. He waited until you took a seat along the second to the last row, and then taking his seat next to you.

You look straight, facing the chalkboard displayed at the farther side of the room. Though you could not see Peter entirely, you could see his glowering look by the corner of your eye. “So his name his Jacob, huh, tell me more about him.”

This was the reason why you could not update him, or any of your friends. You knew this would happen. They begin getting so nosy around your life before they even realize it.

Surely, you did love your friends, much more the boy sitting next to you. They have been with you since freshman year, and you were more than grateful for one another’s support.

“Peter, I don’t think that whatever I tell you would concern you,” you state clearly to avoid a dragging conversation.

“But we care about you, I care about you, Y/N.” He pouts, “The moment he tries to hurt you, you’ll run back to us and cry about it. I just want to skip seeing that part knowing I can’t see you heartbroken.”

You furrow your eyebrows. His statement comes off as a bit acquisitive, but you knew that it was just his concern caught up in the moment. “That’s the problem. We all need to eventually fail or feel pain. It’s normal, especially for young adults like us, Peter!”

There was a lot of things you wanted to say now. He trigged you somehow and now you’re at the edge of becoming a rambling mess. The worst part of it was that you were scared that you might say something that you would not be able to take back.

“Okay then I’ll–”

“No look, I apologize for raising my voice.” You sighed to calm yourself down and compose your thoughts better. “You know I adore you so much, Peter. And I appreciate you looking out for me. But this can’t be forever, I’ll eventually have to learn how to deal with these kinds of stuff.”

You got through barely half of your day yet you could already feel the emotional turn of having an argument with one of your best friends.

And eventually, your professor entered the room. Barely giving the two of you a moment to continue the heated conversation just seconds ago. The displeased look on Peter’s face remained as he looked in front, acknowledging that both of you took lectures seriously. He wanted to pick up this argument at another setting.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

"Congrats to your first ever anniversary!” Your friends applaud just as Jacob was seated next to you.

“We’re so proud of you.”

“You two look so happy together!”

“Both of you look amazing, practically perfect for each other.”

“Can’t believe it’s already been a year.”

A year has passed, your group of friends remained even so with Peter. In addition, they learned to accept your boyfriend despite their doubts on online dating sites and applications.

Just as they learned to trust your decisions more, you also learned way more about your significant other. Though despite your differences in fields, you learned to love him more than you thought you could.

All of you have freshly graduated from college. Most of your friends did not have much planned so far; however, as your friendship with Peter remained, he grew to understand your feelings more and handled it sensitively.

After your argument during your early days of dating Jacob, he eventually apologized for his behavior too. Though that was not the only time your friendship with him was put to a test. After the succeeding months, Peter still gave feint warnings and acted a bit overprotective when you tried telling him how you wanted to take your relationship to another level and get more serious.

Nonetheless, you did not let any of your peers affect your view upon your relationship. Seeing that you were now at your first anniversary, you were happy that you followed what your heart and gut believed in.

“To be honest we didn’t expect our Y/N to be getting into a relationship before we graduate, let alone celebrating her first anniversary!” Liz joked. “But in the end, just know that we love you and we’re here for you.”

You smiled, looking at your friends who seemed to share the same feeling. After graduation, everything feels too good. It feels as if your life was falling into place.

Not only have you gotten into a relationship with a kind guy. You also attained high ranks among the other students in your program, which led to companies offering you internships right off the bat. Rather than you worrying about where you’re heading to after college, you got the privilege to pick what you wanted to do.

Surprisingly, you got an offer from the Stark Industries to become an internship on being their analytical chemist. It was the most tempting offer you got. Who would not accept an opportunity like that, right?

When you learned that Peter also got an offer, you were more than happy for him. You knew he was one of the smartest persons in class and he deserved it just as you did.

Both your contracts agreed that the internship starts a month from now which was just perfect, considering that you also have a few things to do prior to it.

“Well, this girl also has a lot planned ahead,” you announce while catching the attention of your friends that were circled around you. “Me and Jacob were talking about moving in probably in his apartment by the end of the month.”

Your intention was not to brag. Everyone could see how genuinely excited you were with such a big event. You were just so happy that despite what every one thought your relationship would end, you accepted whether the outcome would be good or bad.

Your friends cheered at you for taking a big step into your relationship. Looking back, you were so scared to accept the second date, but little by little you could not notice how much progress has been done.

“I am so thankful for you guys.” You smiled and nodded at them before looking to your side where Jacob happily watched you interact with your friends. You slung your arm over his chest and planted a kiss directly at his lips.

“We’re always here for you, Y/N,” Peter added along with a smile.

Unbeknownst to you, just as your friends had left the celebration, you had big news yet to hear.

As you drape your purse over one shoulder, your boyfriend assisted you out. He held one side of the door for you and walked after you. He held onto the side of your waist until both of you reached his car.

Like the gentleman he is, he went over to the passenger side to open the car door for you before doing the same for himself at the driver’s side.

When both of you were finally inside the car, Jacob had not started the car immediately. He paused with fingers gripping around the edges of the steering wheel.

His sigh was just as evident, hearing it echo around the car which left chills across your skin as you looked at him. “You seem bothered. What’s wrong?”

He avoided to look at you just as both of your hands reach for one of his. He lets you toy with his fingers yet his gaze still directs straight at the gas pedal. You lean further to catch a glimpse of him, moving one hand to cup his cheek. “Hey, what’s bugging you, babe? I’m here to listen.”

“I’m sorry,” he starts off. The puzzled look on your face apparent as to what he’s trying to apologize for.

“What do you mean?”

“I just don’t think you deserve to stay with someone like me.”

His self-loathing was not settling your confusion in any way at all. “I still don’t get it.” You did have an assumption in mind, but you chose not to jump into it as it might flare up on what’s happening now.

“I think we need to break up,” Jacob swiftly drops.

Slowly, you pull back and rest your back against the window. You bring a hand up to brush the little fringes in front of your face. You were trying to comprehend everything that’s happening. “I don’t understand. Why so sudden?”

“Don’t get the wrong idea, Y/N–”

“Then what should I get?” Your voice starts to crack as you hold back the tears. “I don’t understand anything at all! You seemed so happy a couple of hours ago.”

“That’s why I’m apologizing,” he softly explains. “You don’t deserve me, I’ve been so horrible to you–”

“You have been so nice to me. I don’t know where you’re getting all of this, at all!” Eventually, tears could not help but form around the corners of your eyes.

Jacob sighs, finally looking at you. “You deserve so much more than this, I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

Finally, the tears began to spill. You covered both your eyes with your palms, trying to both hide and wipe them away. “Y-you can’t just break up with me after celebrating our first anniversary.”

“I’m sorry–” “Stop saying that,” you sniffed. You did not know what annoyed you more, hearing him apologize like a broken record or hearing him imply the ‘its not you, it’s me and you deserve more’ bullshit. “You’re too cruel.”

“I’ll drive you to your house,” he offers. The look on his face seemed very guilty. You did not know what was behind these sudden turn of events, but either way you were heartbroken for how

“No,” you stated. “Uhm, I have a friend who lives nearby. You can drop me off there.”

“Okay.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

“That’s pretty much my night in a nutshell,” you sighed as Peter entered his room with a blanket and some clothes in hand.

Your legs were cross-seated over his bed as your hid your face with your hands. Peter frowned as he walked over to the edge of his bed where you were positioned. “I just don’t understand why he dumped me all of a sudden, might I add, dumped me on our first anniversary!”

You felt a hand over your back, rubbing slow and comforting strokes as you continued to cry. “Just as I thought I was getting to know him better.”

It was emotionally crushing.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“Well.” You look up at him despite knowing your nose eyes eyelids became swollen, “You can finally tell me that you told me so.”

“That doesn’t matter right now.” His hands move to the ends of your hair, toying with the strands before turning half of his body aside. He reaches for a mug that situated on top of his nightstand, “Here. I brought you a cup of tea.”

“Thanks, but I’m not really thirsty–”

“Drink,” he calmly says. “You need to get hydrated after crying.”

You could not argue with that. You’ve definitely lost a lot of water in your body after hours of just crying, without drinking anything. “You know me so well.” you told him and added, “I should’ve just listened to you when you warned me about strangers online.”

“I guess I owe you an apology.”

Peter chuckled at your statement and watched you as your lips slowly sipped at the heated tea he had just prepared. “No need to be sorry about anything now, I’m just glad you’re safe. He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“Don’t worry he didn’t physically touch me,” you assure as he nods.

The adorable boy in front of you slyly looked down as he called for your name. “Y/N? Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course, Peter.”

“Why’d you choose to stop by my place amongst our other friends.”

You finally finish the entire drink he had prepared. Before you could answer him, you extended your arm in order to set the fragile mug back on top of his bed side drawer.

“Well for one, I still know where your place was, and it was closest from the restaurant,” you answered. “And conveniently enough, you were the first person I could think of after Jacob hurt my feelings.”

“I could vividly remember your warnings just as I realized he was breaking up with me already. I didn’t know whether to feel sad or ashamed. What I do know was that you knew me too well, even before I became fully aware of it.”

He smiled at your answer, and you gave the same look at him. “Well I’m glad you thought of me.” His hands reach over to yours and places them on top, feeling the warmth of his body over yours. “I would never want to hurt you, nor let you feel the pain Jacob gave you.”

“You’re too sweet.” You smile.

Your hands rubbed circles around your eyes first. Then you tried to lean in front, opening your arms wide signaling for a hug. Peter did not hesitate to hug you back, enveloping his arms while both of you rest your chins on top of each other’s shoulders.

From this angle, you could strongly scent his cologne. However, that was not the only thing you could observe.

As each second passes, you were not sure if you were the only one who could notice how hot the room was getting. Either that or that your skin was starting to burn up. “Peter?”

“Don’t you think it’s getting hot–”

As you were just about to react, you felt a pair of lips against yours. Peter had pulled back, and even when you could have realized it, he was pinning you down as your back presses against his bed.

And as much as this was entirely contradicting your morals, you did not feel an ounce of guilt as one of your best friends continued to leave kisses down your neck. You were not entirely sure why your mind was doubting this, but your body was suddenly, badly craving for touch – and Peter was conveniently doing you the favor.

“Don’t I think it’s getting what?” Peter sits up and teases just as he pulls his shirt over his shoulders.

“Nothing,” you groan. “But I don’t think this is a good idea–”

He shushes you, “Relax. Let me take care of you, yeah?

His hands gently released heir grip around your wrists. He was confident enough that you wouldn’t fight back after finishing the drink he exclusively brewed for you.

Your state of mind was perfectly right where he expected it to be. Just conscious enough to feel him against you, but incapable of thinking rationally.

He just hated how smart you were when it came to his friends and school; however, just as he expects, you were not as quick-witted when it came to relationships.

And hiring Jacob was definitely one of his greatest achievements so far. He lost a part of his savings along the way, but nothing could ever become as valuable as you. Now that you were in his room, let alone under his touch, he had the upper hand.

Peter was not letting you go that easy afterwards.

For now, he continues to leave kisses under your jaw while your hands lazily combs through the locks of his hair. He proudly hums against your skin after leaving gentle nibbles that started to leave evident love marks.

One of his hands creep under your shirt, reaching to unhook your bra. As he successfully does, he moves to adjust your shirt over your breasts. He gets a good view of them even without having to pull it over your head, smirking to himself as this has been a fantasy he has been dreading for.

“Fuck you’re even more beautiful than I imagined,” he murmurs. With one hand, he gently squeezes around one of your breasts just as he descends at your body.

“Peter,” your moan comes from above his head just as he was ready to spread your legs.

“Yeah, babe?”

“C-condom,” you mumbled with eyelids partially open.

He chuckled as a response, “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”

Peter tried to test the waters first to make sure he was completely in control of this situation. He drags the tip of his fingers across your stomach, further narrowing the path down as it reached at the entrance of your cunt.

He could instantly sense how wet you have become throughout his teasing. Both his middle and ring finger grew damper as he inserted them inch by inch, slowly seeing them reappear.

The warmth radiating around your walls excites him more, assuming how good you would be while his cock was wrapped around it. He instinctively curls his fingers out of excitement, forgetting that he was trying to handle you gently.

You react by tightening around it, along with a whine.

“Sorry, babe.”

Moreover, he continues it up until he felt his erection grow harden than before. He made sure he was completely hard before finally dropping both your pants down, attending to yours first until you were completely naked – excluding the shirt he did not haul over your head.

Next was his turn. He undid his shorts and threw them away ever so quickly. Then rushed to welcome himself between the space of your legs. “You ready for me, babe?” He did not leave a choice despite asking that either way. You remained helpless under him.

“Hmm,” was your only response.

Peter did not hesitate as he glides into you. He groans at your heat, grasping that you feel better now compared to when he was using his fingers. “Oh shit,” he groans while speeding up the pace of his thrusts, “you feel so good.”

“That’s it, holy fuck.” He was surprised at how responsive your body was still. Despite drugging you to the extent of being mentally incapable, your body was contracting all over him as if it was enjoying itself.

He continued to praise your body even if you could not understand what he was saying. The entire event revolved around him fucking you and leaving sweet remarks as if he was your boyfriend – and not, at all, a friend who laced your drink and made you believe you were somewhere safe.

Though Peter did say he was going to care for you. Ironically, it was obvious that all he can think about now is chasing his orgasm and nutting inside you. After all, it was one of his dark and twisted fantasies – to have full control over you, at least.

There were few moans coming from you, but the happy noises being created by Peter overpowers. With all of this, sexual, tension he finally got to release, it was expected that he was going to cum sooner.

“Fuck,” and other swears came from him. “Didn’t expect to cum so soon.”

As he did not care about your take on this, he also did not give a fuck when he was planning to cum inside you. Since he purposely avoided to wear any kind of protection, let alone learn if you were in any kind of birth control, anyone in their right mind would know what could happen the morning after.

Willfully, he made sure to go deeper inside you until he could feel the tip of his cock twitch as a sign that he was going to cum. “Gonna fill you up with my cum, yeah,” he grunts as if you were going to reply. “And you’re gonna take it like the good girl you are.”

Even so, when Peter finally felt his release, he took a good look at you beneath. You seemed hot and bothered, but not as him. Your chest was heaving all the while he could feel the speed of the beating of his heart.

When he steadily pulls out, the awaited moment of his deep, dark fantasies finally arise. He could clearly see his own cum beautifully spilling out of your cunt like a cream pie. He could almost feel himself get turned on just at the sigh of it, but he considered that round two’s with you would be saved for next time.

“Peter?” “Hmm?”

“I still feel hot,” you purr.

Peter extends his arm to gently place the back of his hand over your forehead, feeling how feverish your body still was. There were few hints of sweat streaming from your forehead. “Let me take care of you, I’ll just run you a bath, okay?”

You childishly smile and agree with him, “O-okay.” He pulls back to be able to properly stand and proceeds to head to his shower with a huge smile from his face.

You were his.

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softschofield · 4 years

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interesting, interesting, interesting! the rumours are true, i’ve been a fool. SO, we know our convoy truck boys are mostly from the 10th battalion of the worcestershire regiment, but i completely failed to account for the fact that captain smith refers to them as “the casuals” - with a casual, or transient, in the military being “personnel at a post, station, or port to which they are not assigned or attached, and having destination elsewhere; or an individual awaiting orders, transport, etc.” basically, in this context, someone who’s separated from the battalion to which they’re usually attached, for whatever reason. which MEANS that i was right to be suspect about the red x’s on most of the battalion’s sleeves, because they AREN’T worcestershire boys, meaning parry and atkins are still part of an as yet unknown regiment, but that the worcestershires have been traveling with them since at LEAST bapaume, and probably longer.

so either they’re just catching a lift back to their own regiment because colonel collins’ battalion just happened to be nearby, available, and convenient, and either they were given direct orders to pick them up, or cooke was so feral, butler’s glare so chilling, and rossi and jondalar so convincing that smith and collins just agreed to pick up these bedraggled, somewhat intimidating hitchhikers on the side of the road; OR they’ve been serving with them. either way, it’s almost certain then that they were on a stretch of trench near the old somme battlefields.

for whatever reason - because they have just recently been released from hospital, because they were assigned to make up numbers on a different stretch of the line and the rest of their lot got killed, who knows - ONLY the following characters are worcestershires, or, in this case, casuals traveling with a battalion that isn’t their own: malky, butler, cooke, jondalar and most LIKELY rossi, going by how familiar he seems with that little group, plus three or four extras. we know for certain that jondalar is one of them because he’s able to mimic beaufort. the other soldiers in that truck, so about half, are part of parry and atkins’ regiment, as is the entire rest of the convoy. so, really, that just adds another wonderful layer that i’ve been too much of a dumb dumb to realise: they’re so close-knit and so dependent on each other because they are literally traveling in a convoy with 200 strangers.

rossi’s “welcome aboard the night bus to fuck knows where” could then be meant in a literal sense - they might genuinely not know where they’re going, because either they’ve just gone to smith “ayo we’re from the worcestershires, no idea where they are at the moment, could you give us a lift” and smith went “brilliant timing, we’re all heading to the same place” and to each other they’re like “oh well that doesn’t fucking sound good does it”, or they’ve been sent orders from their regiment to join them. so they’re just exhausted and disoriented, and they’ve been on the go and constantly in and out of the truck since before dawn across no man’s land, and they have no fucking idea where they are or where they’re going. i mean, looking at them now, they’re so TIRED. cooke is genuinely about to keel over. they’ve been traveling for days probably. all the other soldiers in the other trucks - they’re downright chirpy by comparison, they’ve probably come straight from reserve. and then you have this ragtag bunch of gays. i love them.

which is then ALSO interesting when you add the FURTHER layer of captain beaufort! why isn’t the story about captain smith? because he isn’t their captain, he’s just their warden for the time being. beaufort is part of whatever company they’re heading up to.

and, okay, stop the presses. i finally got a good, clear-ish look at the badge on rossi’s helmet, and as far as i can make out it’s “SR” surrounded by a wreath and topped by a crown… which… it isn’t the insignia of the cameronians (scottish rifles)… but part of me wants to hesitantly fit him into that regiment. they fought at the battle of the scarpe (arras), and by 1917, they were no longer wearing kilts as battle dress and had, for the most, given up their fabric caps in favour of brodie helmets - which, check, check, check. rossi clearly isn’t wearing the worcestershire patch, and the patch he IS wearing is one i don’t recognise - and since there are literally hundreds of regiments that i have to (and will, don’t try me, i want to know how parry and atkins fit into this conspiracy) go through to find it if it IS one of their insignias, i’m more than happy to go with my idea that he’s part of the royal signal corps.

and if he IS attached to the scottish rifles, that would therefore mean that his dress uniform is a green doublet and douglas tartan trews, which is… quite frankly a powerful image. and cooke would choke if he saw him in that. BUT it would also mean that he’s not a worcestershire and that his traveling with cooke, jondalar, butler, and malky is therefore entirely coincidental and that he’ll have to leave them at the end of their journey. which is tragic, but also has the opportunity to be super fucking sweet if you take into account 1) the fact that he’s clearly bonded so closely with them in such a short amount of time, and 2) falling in love with a stranger you’ve just met on a roadtrip and then having to go your separate ways but you keep thinking about them every day and then you find each other again after the war. star-crossed lovers. soulmates who meet in passing.

but then rossi and jondalar are already exchanging halfs of a bff heart necklace!!!!!

maybe rossi is just laughing along to their beaufort story even though he doesn’t know who he is or the context of it just because he already loves these boys!!!!

much to think about.

also, i never noticed the huge gash on rossi’s cheekbone until i watched the scene on a small screen. what has happened to him!!!!! all the others are spotless and one side of rossi’s face is bloody and scabbed over? what has he BEEN through. and it’s fresh! so it must have happened literally just before the convoy picked him up. or it happened in no man’s land - those german stragglers smith mentioned. it really does look like a bullet graze. did he join the convoy and then immediatly get wounded? instantaneous hurt/comfort potential? or did he show up all pretty and scottish and bloody and cooke went oop. i’m gay.

much, much, much to think about in this trying time.

in conclusion, it’s possible that rossi is just a lone signaller - left behind to take photos of a battlefield, or report to someone, or repair something, or he was in hospital - who has been picked up by the convoy, or he’s attached to the worcestershires, OR he’s attached to the scottish rifles and has been separated from his regiment for whatever reason. BUT the way rossi interacts with the convoy boys - the ease and the familiarity - really implies that the intention was for the audience to assume they’re all together. so, facts aside, i truly believe krysty intended us to think they were all a package deal.

tl;dr: only cooke, malky, butler, and jondalar are worcestershires; parry and atkins have been dropped back into the “i haven’t got a goddamn clue” box; and rossi may be a lone scottish rifle who just happens to be travelling with the worcestershires on the way to the scarpe. the 1917 crew really said “let’s leave enough breadcrumbs to make a fucking meal.”

thanks for watching me slowly lose my mind x

#1917 #i sound genuinely mad i know but it’s just that I LOVE RESEARCH AND I WANT TO KNOW THINGS #in another month i’m going to genuinely be the it’s always sunny meme #with the board covered in string #WHAT DOES IT ALL MEAN #i'm practically vibrating #also i never noticed that cooke gestures at butler with his head after scho checks his watch #like he goes ‘are you seeing this? ask him’ and then butler makes the ‘got somewhere you need to be’ comment #I LOVE ALL THE SUBTLE DETAILS THEY'RE BRILLIANT #and i love how much of a schoolboy cooke is #and how much that boy just... loves food #we love a king who snacks #like the first time we see him he's practically got his whole fist in his mouth he's eating so hard #and then his useless 'yeah' with that bread #we love to see him thriving #also cooke and butler's whole relationship - the 'continue the story'#the look at him about the watch and the look at him when scho is pushing the truck #the fact that they've seemingly gone halves on that bit of matching chainmail for their helmets #i NEVER noticed that they have so many little moments #i love it so much ALL THE LITTLE INTRICACIES #also cooke stays behind with jondalar when scho falls in the mud just to lowkey play it cool and not make it seem like he's #checking he's okay. soft #can you tell i rewatched the scene xo #mine

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cauthor-and-the-black-ajah · 5 years

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The Apple Tree

Hello any fellow Randlanders who may read this. Due to the request of @j-flick-the-hill to write more fanfiction, I have decided to transfer my works from Fanfiction.net to here for convenience sake. The ship is Cauthor, just be warned (If anyone knows the correct name for this ship, please tell me)

An excerpt from Book 1; Eye of the World; Chapter 3: The Peddler; Page 43: "You shouldn't let Mat get you mixed up in his foolishness, Rand," Egwene said, as solemn as a Wisdom herself, then abruptly she giggled. "I haven't seen you look like that since Cenn Buie caught you and Mat up his apple trees when you were ten."

I found this comment, thanks to our good friend Egwene, and while it was obviously meant to be a harmless comment of their misadventures, it could also hint at Cauthor. So here's my short fic building off of that. Thank you Egwene, and of course, Robert Jordan.

"Light, Mat! How did you get up there?" A ten-year-old Matrim Cauthon grinned from above, in one of Cenn Buie's apple trees.

"Want me to show you?" He giggled, swinging from the tree and dropping to the ground. He grabbed Rand's arm and steered him towards another tree, that was shorter with lower branches. He quickly scaled it, motioning Rand to follow. Rand clambered up the tree behind him, embarrassed at his obvious unease at being up so high. He slipped, but was caught by his friend.

Mat led the way a little slower, checking that Rand was following, and led them up to the highest tree. It wasn't much higher than the one they had first climbed into, but just high enough that they couldn't reach even the lowest branches from the ground, at least while they were short. Mat always boasted about how he was most certainly going to end up taller than Rand! It had become a race through the years to see who would be able to reach a trees' branches first.

Mat lounged across them, leaving Rand just holding onto the tree, not wanting to fall. Mat didn't seem to care if he fell. Many people likened Mat to Master Al'Vere's tomcat; sleepy, graceful, and clearly not afraid that he wouldn't land on his feet. Rand certainly thought of him that way.

"Hey, Rand?" Mat asked, surprisingly quiet. "Yeah?" "Have you ever kissed anyone? Not like your mother, more like have you really kissed someone?" Mat giggled nervously. Rand was surprised at the question. "I know what you mean. No. No, I haven't. Have you?" He blushed, wishing he could take the words back. "I mean, why do you ask?" "H-have you ever, you know, wanted to kiss someone?" Mat shifted uncomfortably. Rand blushed harder, and turned away. "Yeah?"

The conversation was making them both rather nervous, and he still had no idea what the other boy was talking about. "You- You didn't answer my question. Have you?" Mat managed a face of smugness, "Yes I have! Jealous?" "Of course not!" Of course he was. "Who?" "Jerilin." "Jerilin al'Caar?" "There aren't any other Jerilin's are there?" "I bet she hated it!" He laughed teasingly. "I bet she cried afterwards!" "You're so horrible! I'm not a bad kisser! You're probably a bad kisser!" He retorted, laughing along.

Rand paused. "What was it like?" Another quiet, regretful question. "Why do you want to know, huh? She didn't cry afterwards, for your information, you trolloc!" He grabbed an apple from a nearby branch. "I think she did! You probably are just telling me that to try to make me jealous! And don't eat the apples, Cenn will kill you if he sees you." They continued to bicker.

Cenn Buie wondered through the orchard chuckling to himself as he heard the faint chirpy voices of young Matrim Cauthon and Rand Al'Thor. A couple more minutes before he would chase them out of his trees. They were still boys, after all. A couple more minutes. Cenn moved closer, curious as to what they were doing. "Oh really? Prove it!" Rand smirked, before realising his mistake, "I mean- I didn't mean it like that!"

"What makes you think I'm going to kiss you, Rand Al'Thor? I wouldn't kiss you if my life depended on it!" Mat laughed, and Rand was relieved to see Mat wasn't repulsed by his slip up. Mat leaned back and reached up, intending to catch a branch above, but slipped, and nearly fell, until his friend grabbed his ankle and pulled him back up. "You're so heavy, Mat! I would have thought that someone as small as you would be as light as a feather!" Rand laughed again and stepped back cautiously, his previous mistake seemingly forgotten, to let Mat regain his footing. Rand sat back down, and then blushed, realising how close he and Mat's faces had become. "I just saved your life! You could have fallen and broken your neck if it wasn't for me!" They often bragged and boasted to each other, something Rand would not normally do, but he so often wanted to try to outdo his friend. "I bet I'm still the better kisser, though!" Mat was back on his game. "I haven't kissed anyone! We can't judge whos better!" He laughed again. "Do you want to kiss someone?" "I already said yes-" Unexpectedly, Mat leaned forward. Rand wanted to pull away but found himself leaning in, their lips touching.

After a pause, Mat grinned, "I'm definitely the better kisser." "Y-!" Rand was cut off by the roaring laughter of Cenn Buie. They peered down to see him leaning against the trunk, shaking, as the two boys scrambled down from the apple tree.

Thank you for reading. Feel free to leave any advice or comments, but just remember for anyone who wants to hate at me just for the ship: you came all this way, so you obviously liked the fic... Thanks!

Original link for anyone who is interested: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12863429/1/The-Apple-Tree

#fanfic #Wheel of Time #Randland #cauthor #the unreasonably attractive fandom #unreasonably attractive fandom

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oathkeeper-of-tarth · 6 years

Text

To Fresh Woods And Pastures New - Part I

Okay, brief intro first. A few days ago I finally properly started The Book of Dust, then immediately descended into the depths of AO3 looking for His Dark Materials AUs of all of my fandoms of interest, and then... this whole thing happened, as if I didn’t have enough on my plate already. Supposed to be a loosely connected series of ficlets whenever I get an idea for one, in what is probably Overthinking It: the Daemon/HDM verse AU. Of course, even the first “ficlet” had to get out of hand, so I’m posting it in several parts - either two or three, depending on just how badly out of hand we end up going here.

If folks are interested, I’ll make a post about the daemon choices and names and some worldbuilding and whatnot tomorrow. I suppose to avoid confusion it’s good to note in advance that Rose is functionally Pink Diamond here, but I prefer her as Rose, so that’s what we’re going with (honestly makes it feel kind of like the old “Pink Diamond is a title” stuff I used to do, and I’m feeling vaguely nostalgic, too).

Summary: The noted enfant terrible of one of Brytain’s most powerful families spots her handmaiden sneaking around in the middle of the night, and, never really one for denying her own impulses or curiosity, sneaks out after her. ~3100 words, just Pearl and Rose for now, with some mentions of Rose’s absolutely lovely and utterly charming family. Mostly pre-shipping at the moment, but you all know where this is going because I love my class romances (and I have all the power in this AU to un-horrible things as much as I want).

---

To Fresh Woods And Pastures New - Part I

Even in the height of summer, the night meant the cobblestones were damp and cool and very uncomfortable under bare feet. Rose found herself wishing she’d taken at least a moment more to look for her haphazardly discarded slippers - the ones that somehow always seemed to near-miraculously materialise next to her bed by morning, perfectly aligned and positioned for her to lazily slip her feet right in.

It was just like Oxford to inconvenience her thus, really - and just like Aunts to keep them all cooped up here instead of travelling the wide, wild world, for almost a full year now, all on some supposedly highly important business. Important business of which, of course, Rose heard and saw next to nothing.

She tightened the shawl she mercifully had grabbed around her shoulders, which her white nightgown unhelpfully left bare, and rushed on, increasingly aware of what a sight she must be. Nobody was around at this time of night, at least, but still - God forbid word got back to Aunts, she’d never hear the end of it. Or at least not until they got distracted enough by some other oh-so-unseemly incident Rose happened to take part in.

“It could hardly be worse than the time we went off boating down the canals, could it?” Neshu murmured from where he was padding along, brushing reassuringly against her thigh.

Rose reached down and ran her fingers through his mane in an unthinking habit she’d developed that neither of them minded. “I’m still not looking forward to enduring any of the inevitable dull soirées they decide are fitting penance, I can promise you that. But we can weather anything, as long as they don’t get Grandmother involved.”

Neshu shuddered, but didn’t offer further comment, choosing instead to focus on the still-distant target of their pursuit. When he felt like it, he was every inch as imposing and regal as one might expect a lion daemon to be. Rose in turn felt they complemented each other wonderfully.

Oh, but caught up in running outside, she’d forgotten to account for how she’d manage to sneak back in if this little excursion ended up taking too long and her usual routes became unavailable. She hadn’t thought this through much at all, had she? Had just been focusing on the pale wisp of a familiar apparition sneaking past the door of her rooms in the dead of night.

Pearl.

When Rose had slipped out of her room, rushed down the hallways and out after her through the servant’s entrance, she hadn’t known quite what to expect, and she’d so far reached very little clarity on the matter. All she knew was that after months and months of observing Pearl in ways that her family would likely consider inappropriate on several levels for one in their service (and thus, understandably, beneath their regard in every way), and noting both her odd charm and her strange disappearances, she finally had a chance of a glimpse into the mystery that was her handmaiden, and she was absolutely taking it.

Up ahead, Pearl stopped in her tracks under one of the older and dimmer anbaric streetlights and seemed to be mulling something over, hands rummaging around in the pockets of her decidedly non-uniform trousers - and where had she even gotten those?

Then she leaned over to murmur something to her daemon and started, to Rose’s horror, to look around herself.

Rose ducked into hiding behind the corner of the nearest building as quickly as she could, and tangled her fingers tightly in Neshu’s mane. His breath was just as bated as her own.

But they were too late. Pearl may have appeared distracted and lost in thought, but neither Rose nor her daemon were much given to subtlety. The ever-watchful Aristobulus had spotted them, or some suggestion of them - and stretched his elegant neck to whisper as much to Pearl. Pearl in turn seemed instantly to become even paler than her usual, and took off like the wind, keeping time with the strides of her daemon’s long, thin legs.

Rose sighed, and gave chase.

Neshu ran forward, almost to the uncomfortable stretch of the limits of their bond, but Pearl’s lead was too great, and she all but threw both herself and Aristobulus around a convenient turn in the street.

An odd one, that Aristobulus. From the presumptuous name he insisted on, down to the shape he’d settled in: a large, white-and-black bird with a bright orange face, rarely given to flight, with a showy crown and tail of feathers, a dangerous beak and even more dangerous talons, as keen-eyed and precise as anyone Rose had ever met - and, just like seemingly much else when it came to Pearl, a disappointment to her family in ways they made sure to make known.

(Where, Rose remembered overhearing the despairing cry of the housekeeper, years ago, where had they even gotten the idea for such a form? What sort of infernal bird was that? Surely nothing of its like strutted on these shores- What’s that, a secretary? You en’t no secretary, now stop wasting time and get back to your cleaning.)

Eternally failing to be like the demure, pretty sisters, the very images of humble service, with their gentle, dainty, decorative, and above all appropriate songbird daemons.

Well, Rose had found her interesting and appropriate enough to step in and demand she stay. And Rose herself had been and still was young enough to be spoiled and indulged, even as there were increasingly frequent signs of what expectations and duties awaited her. But for now she made the requisite appearances, kept her dresses just barely qualifying under the aforementioned appropriate and her mane of curls as glorious as her daemon’s, kept her amorous flings brief and inconsequential and paramours reasonably predictable, and nobody dared bother her about much at all. Sometimes, increasingly often, she found she may have even wanted them to, for the novelty of the challenge if nothing else. But her family name inevitably got in the way - as it did with quite a few things.

Pearl was still sprinting at full tilt as the street they were running down joined the main riverside way, and Rose almost lost sight of her in the growing darkness. Of course the long line of lamps here just had to be under maintenance, and of course Pearl had to be so damned quick-

Then she slipped.

The noise she made as she hit the ground sounded quite pained, even from a distance - enough to make Rose feel a sting of guilt at her own unthinking exclamation of initial joy at the sight and the opportunity it presented. She just wanted to catch up, not have to fish Pearl out of the water under nothing but the weak moonlight and carry her home, and she certainly hadn’t meant her harm-

“Come on, get up, get up, get up, we can’t let them catch us, you know what they do-”

Rose had gotten just close enough to hear Aristobulus’ quiet urging, and see him take a beakful of Pearl’s shirt, yanking on it in an attempt to get her back on her feet. Pearl managed, scrambling, to do just that, stumbled a bit as she put her weight on her right leg and it almost gave out, but she persevered, and bolted straight for the nearest bridge.

“Wait!” Rose gasped out - to no avail. She was growing tired, her feet hurt and she had no doubt her soles were a mess, and she’d lost her shawl somewhere along the way without even noticing.

Who Pearl thought was after her, Rose had no idea, nor did she understand the fear she’d glimpsed on her face. But she understood enough, was aware enough of the decidedly un-empty boats and ships tied at the nearby quay to know that raising her voice and calling out after her would be unwise.

Pearl dashed across the open and into the narrow streets between the old shops, clearly hoping to lose her pursuers in the gloom among the sharp turns. But she misjudged her advantage - or underestimated the way her fall would impede her own ability to dart around the many corners, and Rose found herself finally, finally catching up.

“Pearl, wait-” she tried again, breathlessly, but once more to no response. Neshu pushed forward and snapped at the long tail feathers before him.

Pearl recoiled and turned immediately, scrambling to put herself between her daemon and their pursuit - which was just enough distraction for Rose to grab at a shirtsleeve and yank Pearl backwards.

“No! You can’t have us, I won’t let you-”

Pearl struggled fiercely at first, and refused to listen at all - Rose learned, to her discomfort, that she could kick quite sharply and with enviable aim - but then seemed to settle for grabbing Aristobulus, pressing them both up against the wall, eyes tightly shut, curling around him, and clinging to him for dear life.

“Pearl,” Rose called as loudly as she dared, signalling Neshu to stay back and giving them as much space as she herself thought wise. “Pearl, it’s me. It’s Rose. There’s nobody else.”

Pearl’s eyes blinked open and she stared up owlishly. Rose took a step closer, the better to see and be seen in the near-dark.

“Lady Rose! You!?” Pearl was breathless, trembling, and every inch of her screamed of downright terror. It was something Rose had seen her Aunts deliberately instil and regularly harness, something that Grandmother seemed to live and breathe, and something she herself - much more partial to using charm to get ahead - had tried so hard to refrain from. Especially… especially with Pearl.

“Why would- Why were you running after me, I’m- I thought you were them, I thought I was done for…” Pearl’s voice was tremulous but rising, and even turning indignant. “Why would you scare me like that?”

But then the bit of anger drained out of her, seemingly replaced with some sort of dreadful realisation, and Rose could see her hands shake where they were clinging to Aristobulus’ feathers. He in turn still seemed on edge, ready to peck and tear at anyone who got too close.

“Oh no,” Pearl gasped. “Oh no, please, please don’t turn me in, Miss, please, I know what they do-”

“I’m not turning anyone in anywhere, or to anyone. What’s gotten into you?” Rose said with a chuckle, playing up that charm she fancied herself known for. But laughing away her confusion didn’t seem to be welcome at all, and her attempt to lay what she thought would be a comforting hand on Pearl’s shoulder was only met with a flinch.

Still, Pearl frowned and, after a little and visibly troubled while, appeared to accept the answer as sincere. She took several deep breaths, and sat up leaning against the wall. After a moment of deliberation and deciding to chalk up the nightgown as a loss anyway, Rose joined her, Neshu settling in on her other side. The way the moonlight filtered down into the narrow alleyway certainly made for a peculiar atmosphere as they waited, and as Pearl seemed to be both catching her breath and laboriously gearing up to speak again.

“I stole something.” she began quietly, gaze fixed ahead of her on something only she could see.

“Oh, that’s all?” Rose responded breezily, feeling the start of both relief and disappointment. “Was it some of the silverware? If it’s not too late, even if you pawned it already, we can go buy it back. I’ll help you! Say I was just having it polished. No trouble at all, and no one needs to know.”

Pearl blinked up at her. “You- you would really do that?”

“Of course! But next time you’re in a tight spot, just ask me. No need for,” she waved a hand airily, “all this.”

Pearl smiled, but it was small and oddly sad. “That’s… very nice of you, Miss. But I stole something far worse, and far more dangerous than silverware.”

“Well, I don’t recall hearing about anything terribly important going missing, so it can’t be all that bad.” She nudged Pearl’s shoulder with her own, and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “What did you steal?”

There was another tense moment of deliberation before Pearl turned to look up at her again, and even in the very dim light, there was something haunted about her eyes. “A secret.”

She seemed deeply unsettled by even thinking about this... whatever it was. Neshu’s ears perked up, and his tail started flicking, and Rose’s mind rushed down half a dozen chilling avenues of thought about everything from rogue agents of the Magisterium to an impending attack by a clan of witches. She was half giddy and half horrified at the prospect of getting to pinpoint which one would end up being the case, and how in the world Pearl of all people had ended up entangled in it.

But then… she’d always seemed both curiously out of place wherever they put her and whatever they put her up to, and far too curious for her own good. If pressed to pick one person out of all their household and extended staff to end up embroiled in something out of the ordinary, Rose would have always placed her bets on Pearl and her long-legged companion, eye-catching in all the ways they weren’t supposed to be.

“We can’t talk about it,” Aristobulus nudged his head under Pearl’s chin, long crest-feathers pressing up against her jaw. “Not out here.”

Pearl’s response was a soft murmur of agreement, and curling around him again. For once, the daemon didn’t seem to mind getting his pristine feathers mussed up or dirtied, as long as it meant more closeness in whatever shape or form. Luckily for him, Pearl was long and gangly enough to comfortably wrap around him and then some, and so they stayed, sharing a moment. Rose looked away and didn’t dare intrude, busying herself with pulling on a thread coming loose from her finely embroidered hem, other hand stroking down well-kempt golden fur, suddenly appreciative of Neshu’s warm and solid presence.

“Miss, with all due respect,” Pearl spoke up again when the moon had shifted enough to cast a bit more light over them, “what are you doing out here? You should be in bed! And look at you, you’re- you must be freezing!”

Rose scoffed. “I’m highly unlikely to freeze in the middle of July. And I’m here because-” she paused, then, realising that she wasn’t exactly clear on the answer herself. “I’m here because of you.”

“Me?”

The adrenalin seemed to be wearing off, and Pearl was starting to take note of her own state. Her right knee was badly scraped and bruised, with a tear on her trousers stained with blood, and her forearms, where her sleeves were rolled up, were streaked with riverside grime. The way her lips twisted in mildly indignant disgust at the sight was oddly endearing.

“Yes. I was… curious. About your little nighttime jaunts. And then I finally caught you embarking on one.”

Pearl grimaced. “You could have asked. I thought- oh, nevermind what I thought.”

Rose arched an eyebrow. “Would you have told me if I had?”

“Well,” Pearl seemed to consider, briefly, toying with another long black-tipped feather as her daemon rested his head against her shoulder, then settled for honesty. “No, I really don’t think I would have. Miss. You’re, ah, forcing my hand here, a bit. So to speak. But I think… I think it might turn out to be exactly what we need.”

We?

Rose couldn’t help but be intrigued.

“Just Rose. Please. There’s nobody but us here.”

“Just us,” Pearl reaffirmed, a bit shaky. She ran a nervous hand through her daemon’s feathers, smoothing down his long neck, and nodded to herself after another moment of deliberation.

“I need you to swear to me, R-Rose. Swear you won’t tell. What I’m about to show you, and who I’m taking you to meet...”

A meeting? Now that sounded delightful. Rose giggled. “Who would I even tell? You know how seriously they take me-”

“Rose, please!” Pearl cut in, louder and sharper than Rose had ever heard her before. “I’m trusting you with so much more than my life right now. Please, please be serious.”

There was a very noticeable “for once” in there, and Rose felt… chastised. In a way neither of her Aunts had yet managed, for all their attempts. And yet here Pearl was, managing with a heavy yet still wide-eyed look and a mere handful of words.

So it wasn’t to be some sort of half-playful “secret society” meeting she’d briefly envisioned, then. Nor a night of revelry with people rougher than Rose would ever officially be permitted to make acquaintances of, but still sometimes snuck out to meet. No, this was to be something else entirely, and Rose thought of the secret, and found her excitement mounting.

But Pearl had a way of being incredibly serious about things that was apparently contagious, so in the end Rose couldn’t help but settle for solemn. “I swear.”

Pearl’s gaze was fixed on her, intense and sharp and boring into hers, and Rose couldn’t bear to look away. “I swear,” she repeated softly, and found she meant it more than she ever had anything in her life.

Pearl finally broke the contact, and something in the air between them seemed to shift, too. Aristobulus’ feathers stood less on end, and Neshu’s ears twitched back. Pearl’s face was a study in determination, but her blush was so strong it was noticeable even in the dim moonlight.

“Alright,” Pearl whispered, more to herself than anyone else, “alright, we can go. You can come with. And then, perhaps... perhaps you really can help.”

“I’d… be delighted to?” Rose replied, getting to her feet with a bemused smile, and offering Pearl a hand up.

Pearl smiled back, and it felt like a tiny victory. But she didn’t take the hand, and attempted - unsuccessfully - to dust herself off somewhat as soon as she got to her feet, Aristobulus preening right by her side. “I do appreciate your enthusiasm, but you have no idea what you’re agreeing to just yet.”

“Well then,” Rose almost whispered, voice steeped in anticipation, “why don’t you show me?”

Pearl stood looking at her a bit oddly for a moment, unusually inscrutable. Then she offered her arm as if they were about to go for a stroll in the park, and Rose took it.

Tune in sometime next week for Part II: Of course there is a secret rebellion. We get down to some serious bismuth. Pearl’s hidden depths are more and more becoming known, and Rose is increasingly twitterpated, and hopefully decreasingly oblivious.

#steven universe #pearl #rose quartz #daemon au #pearlrose #fanfiction #crossover #his dark materials #the pearlrose is not yet in full swing #those stars of brightest magnitude #oathkeeper writes things #my fic #yes all the titles are from milton #i'm a pretentious enough git #and again #''oath you just wanted to write the CGs vs the evil church''#yes..... yes this is true...#you got me there

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quatschmachen · 6 years

Text

Regret

1980′s ish. Follows Convenient.

Masterlist

Ed x Et nsfw

If anything he hadn’t made up his mind until the evening before. It had been a long week of tough negotiations, one where his arguments had been slowly ground down, where fighting for Western rights for their own resources once more fell into the cycle of a voiceless opposition crushed down by the East and their self centered interests. It was very clear to Edward that those in charge only viewed the West as some convenient piggy bank to rob at their own convenience. If anything, it was looking at Bert’s face at the end of the meeting, the resignation where the fire had been dampened down, the absolute exhaustion that made him realize he did not want to return home just yet. Did not want to be the one in charge, putting out the fires that kept cropping up, did not want to carry the burden, the eternal Sisyphus rolling the meager offerings up the hill only to reach the peak and have it roll back down. He just was not feeling up to being the back the others leant upon, the person carrying them through the worst of it; at the very least, not yet. He also knew that Bert would want to go home and stew, he worked better that way. Stewing on the ranch staring at the mountains, gathering his energy to once more attack and vocally disagree where others might fear to tread. So his mind which once was in doubt suddenly was of one concord with what he wanted to do. Not what he should do.

He had not had the chance to speak to Étienne privately after their first evening together, the evening where Étienne had woken up after his brief rest, and Edward had made his hasty goodbyes, fear tinging his very bones that someone might have seen him enter or leave the room. He had spent a paranoid week wondering if anyone had seen them together, and the anxiety had been part of the reason why he had carefully avoided the other man in more intimate contexts. But now he was tired, and a part of him once more did not give a fuck.

He felt as if he was betraying all he stood for as he stood outside the other man’s hotel door, wondering if Étienne was even in there. It was more likely that he was out on the town, exploring what the place had to offer. Taking a chance, he knocked, and immediately regretted his action. The fuck was suddenly given, and he knew he should get the hell out and return to the things he should do, and not what he wanted. He decided not to even wait, and as he turned had his heart sink as the door inconveniently opened.

“Édouard?” Étienne’s voice was surprised, as if he hadn’t expected to see the other man so soon, his tone shifted however to a lower register, “come in.”

Realizing he could not simply knock and run away (in fact he was too embarrassed to do that), Edward entered the room, trying to look anywhere but the bed.

As the door closed, Étienne winked, “Back for another round?”

“Uhh no,” Edward stammered suddenly feeling shy, hating at how he immediately blushed. The heat creeped up his neck as the hairs stood up.

“Too bad,” Étienne stretched and then returned to his packing, “I was planning on going out tonight with Emma around seven so… you have about a half hour.”

“It won’t take that long, and uhm I guess it is kind of late so uhm, I was just wondering if uhm your offer was still open, I mean about me visiting you for a little bit since this is all done, but uhm I guess I should have said earlier? I mean I know you’re uh busy and all,” Edward could feel himself turn redder, he really was an idiot even coming here. Étienne was not the type to be known for having oodles of free time, he was always out doing something, be it investigating a new situation in his city, or spending time with his friends. Sure, they fucked but Edward wasn’t going to be placing himself at the top of Étienne’s friend register. “Uh but I see you’re busy, uhm, I’ll, uh, guess I’ll catch you later.” He quickly rushed to add before Étienne could even open his mouth.

He was already edging to the door to let himself out, when Étienne, who had been frowning at a creased dress shirt, finally looked over to Edward, “Sure. I’m on the 9:15 morning train, I’ll see if I can get you a ticket next to me. I’ll be leaving the hotel at eight, so meet me in the lobby then.”

“Oh, uh g-great.” Edward managed to squeak, “I- I’ll see you then….” His hand on the door knob he paused, “So uh, just tell me how much the ticket is and I’ll be sure to pay you back.”

Étienne simply gave a dismissive wave his attention once more on his suitcase, obviously done with Edward for the moment.

And that was how Edward found himself sitting beside Étienne the following morning, his flight rearranged, his vague excuse to Bert made – one where he would see if he could get them a better deal behind closed doors. Bert had simply nodded, Edward was in fact the better negotiator so he was not about to question the other man staying on. He stared out the window, vivid flashes of the changing landscape flying past in a mesmerizing manner, as he remembered his awkward question when they entered the train and Étienne had indicated the seats.

“Are you sure I can have the window?”

Étienne sighed, “Edward, I’ve taken this trip so many times I could close my eyes and nap, and still tell you exactly where we are.”

“Oh. Right. Well, thanks.”

Edward then focused on looking out the window knowing that if he continued to stare at Étienne he would probably act even stupider. He had a grand plan for this week in Montreal, where he would get over his infatuation or whatever the fuck it was, and fuck as many men as possible. It was obvious to him that his interest in Étienne was probably just some hangover of admiration from however long ago. So by the end of this week of hard partying he would no doubt be cured of the fluttering feeling in his stomach whenever he was around the other man.

“No probs,” Étienne muttered as he shifted his jacket into a blanket position and rested his head upon Edward’s shoulder as if it was a pillow and closed his eyes.

“Late night?” Edward managed to ask, glancing over to his friend who nodded.

“Mmyeah. Emma had some stuff to talk about and then after I met this beautiful woman who really had some moves that could impress any gymnast… didn’t get back to my hotel room ‘til five.”

“Sounds like a good time.”

“You could say that… I think I overstretched a hamstring though,” came the mumble, before Étienne fell asleep.

Edward stared at him for a moment, thinking about what long eyelashes the other man had, and how it was no secret why he found it so easy to get laid. Someone easy to fall for. God he was so fucking lame, he angrily thought as he forced himself to look out the window, trying to ignore the warm presence of the other man next to him. A half hour later Étienne had awoken and was digging around in his bag for something. After ten more minutes, Edward finally asked, “what are you looking for?”

With triumph, Étienne produced a packet of two saltine crackers, “My snack!”

“…. Is that it?” Edward frowned, then added, “Did you even have breakfast?”

“No.” Étienne responded, “I mean no to breakfast, yes to this is literally the only food I have in my bag and I’m suddenly very hungry.” He paused, then awkwardly, “I… do you want some?”

“Uh no I had my breakfast…” Edward frowned, “Actually…” he reached for his own bag and after a few moments pulled out a sandwich, “I got this earlier in case I got hungry, but I could share?”

“Oh my god,” Étienne eagerly reached for it, “Thanks, you’re the best.” He took a few large bites, savouring it and making approving sounds, before the half completely disappeared. Licking his lips, Étienne smiled at him, a rather genuine smile, as he joked, “Maybe I should keep you around if you always have food on you.”

Edward laughed, ignoring the increase of his heartbeat, “Look, years of starvation have made me make sure I always have food nearby.”

“I should have the same reasoning, but I never seem to have time to remember to do that,” Étienne ruefully said.

“Maybe you should hire a personal chef to make sure you’re looked after eh?” Edward joked.

“With what money?” Étienne rolled his eyes, “The only thing I could offer is sex and I’m sure after a while my chef would want actual pay.”

“Depends who the chef is.” Edward unthinkingly countered.

Étienne raised an eyebrow, and with a slow smile spreading across his face asked, “You making an offer there, Murphy?”

“I – what –” Edward flushed a bright red, “Uh I can’t cook, I’d be disappointment as a hired chef there Étienne, I’m sure you could do better than me.”

“Oh I dunno, you seem to manage to cook pasta without setting it on fire. My bar for edible food has become very low, so I’m fairly easy to please on that front.” Étienne shrugged, “So I’m sure you’d do.”

“As pleasant as that sounds, unfortunately, I think I might get bored of that,” Edward coolly responded, trying to ignore the happiness he felt at the other man’s jokes, he knew that Étienne would for sure get bored of him by the end of a month, and as pleasant as the fantasy was, Edward wanted to make sure that Étienne retained some sort of interest in him, “You’re cute, but too far for me to be some booty call chef.”

“Damn, and here I thought I finally got it sorted,” Étienne laughed.

“Nope.” Edward rolled his eyes and then once more leant his head against the cool glass, closing his eyes, pretending to sleep, not wanting to continue the conversation.

XXXX

Placing his bags in the guest room, Edward doubted his decision for the millionth time, looking around the room and wondering why the hell he hadn’t gone home immediately. Changing into more flattering clothes, Edward paused in front of the mirror fussing with his hair, wondering what the plan actually was. Were they just going to hang out? Eat? What? Suddenly he felt like some intrusive stranger in his friend’s house, an imposition that shouldn’t have bothered coming. Guilt settled inside, he was really leaning too heavily on Étienne’s good graces, why the fuck did he think it would be a good idea to just come over, god he was a fucking idiot.

The mood hit him swiftly, like the thick dark clouds of a prairie storm, the type that roll in blackening the bluest sky with the heaviness that hangs there, ominous in the weight of unshed rain. Throat tightening, Edward bit his lip to keep his eyes from filling with tears, trying to breathe evenly as he began to panic in his decision. He should have just went home, home where he could just go back and hide, perhaps hit up Mac for the good stuff, the quick fix, without worrying about all the other aspects of himself that he kept picking at like a never healing scab. If he could swing it he could probably cut this down to five days instead of seven, make up some excuse to get the hell out. Count down the dark nights in between the days of who knows what, there was no guarantee Étienne was going to always be around, this was not well planned at all, and if left alone he wasn’t even sure what he wanted to do in the place. Shit shit shit.

He could hear Étienne walking around, probably expecting him to emerge and be some sort of affable good guest who wanted to be there, not one who wanted to sink into a puddle and seep away back into the ground no longer taking up space or resources in his friend’s domain.

“Knock knock, you ready?” Étienne’s voice followed by the knocking action forced Edward to quickly wipe his eyes and put on the cool exterior he had been cultivating in order to look somewhat like someone Étienne would hang out with on a constant basis. If there was one thing Edward was certain of, Étienne did not hang out with losers.

“Yes,” Edward managed to say calmly, willing himself into the role of a cool and collected man, one who knew what he was doing unaffected by too many complicated emotions. “Just making sure I looked good to get some ass.”

Étienne looked him up and down, taking his time, lingering on various areas of Edward, and then gave a nod, “Well, I’d say you’d be successful, but first, food.”

XXXXX

If Edward had had any concerns of what they would do they did not last for long. In the first club, it had become apparent after an awkward hook up (which apparently Étienne, taking his role of sex mentor seriously, had surreptitiously watched) that Étienne had declared that Edward needed some serious training when it came to the art of blow jobs.

“You were getting so good!” Étienne exclaimed, “What happened back west?”

Edward shrugged, “Uh… I wasn’t really getting laid… a lot.”

Étienne had taken him by the arm, “I have the exact place for you… it’s the best glory hole in town and if by the end of this night your jaw doesn’t fall off, you’ll at least have pleasured half the gay men around.”

“The—what!?” Edward exclaimed.

“Glory hole, you’ll get it when we get there.”

It was not the most glorious of places, Edward thought critically. It was in fact a men’s bathroom in the park. It wasn’t that well maintained, and did not smell glorious. Why the hell was Étienne taking him here? He saw some men milling about which he eyed somewhat warily. Étienne guided him into a stall, with a hole in the wall to the other stall. He then physically demonstrated what Edward was to do, showing him the etiquettes, and the service to be performed as a man stuck his cock through the hole, and Étienne expertly began to blow. Fascinated, and turned on as he watched, Edward moved closer. Étienne moved away from the cock, motioning for Edward to take over. Nervously, Edward did, shivering in pleasure as Étienne’s warm mouth pressed against his ear as he whispered instructions, which he obediently followed. The tingles of the other man’s words tingled down his neck, as his tongue teased the flange, running against the tip of the cock. His hands softly gripped the shaft, already slick with saliva. He heard the man groan as he came, the cum dripping down his face. Feeling Étienne’s lips curl up into a smile, Edward realized that he would kneel here all night long so long as he could feel the man beside him.

Étienne had settled more comfortably, his limbs awkwardly fitting themselves snugly against Edward, their position odd but comfortable in the small stall, as Edward with determination tackled the next dick. Étienne’s warm hands crept up his shirt, his lips continuing to gently move against his ear as he continued to instruct, teaching Edward how to tease, dragging out the inevitable orgasm. Edward used feather light touches as instructed, lips pressed against the tip of the cock, fingers running against the pulsing vein, tongue laving against the foreskin. As Edward grew more confident, Étienne’s mouth and hands began to wander more, his lips gently pressing against his neck, giving a small suck of approval whenever Edward did something really good in his cock sucking. He had lost count how many cocks he had sucked, his jaw was sore, but the want to please the other man drove him to continue. Time had lost all meaning, only pleasure filled his senses, his own cock straining against his jeans, forcefully ignored by the teasing touches of Étienne. Lips swollen from sucking, Edward leant into the light teasing pinches Étienne was giving his nipples, letting out small desperate sounds, as Étienne’s tongue poked out and lightly ran along his neck. As the man came, Étienne leant forward and gently wiped it from Edward’s mouth and chin, the fingers light upon the swollen lips.

“Mmm I think you need to pass the final test,” he murmured, “Me.”

Breathing heavily, Edward nodded, and, after some awkward moving, legs stiff from the held position, Étienne left the stall, and a few moments later, was in the adjoining one. Anticipation had him begin to rub himself through his jeans as he listened to jingle as Étienne undid his belt buckle, and the agonizingly slow unzipping of his pants. Watching through the hole, he saw as Étienne pulled his pants down, enough for his hard cock to spring out from the constraints, the tip glistening with his excitement. He let out a small sound of frustration as he watched Étienne play with his dick, stroking it, but keeping it out of reach. Once Étienne had determined that he head tormented Edward enough in withholding, he pushed his cock through the hole, Edward leant forward, teasing the foreskin, gently pushing it back, and focusing all touch upon it. His tongue swiped at the sensitive skin, the sounds Étienne making music to his ears. Licking to the balls, he focused some attention there, running his fingers and tongue against his sack, then tongue roving up against the pulsing vein. Keeping his touches light, his lips pressed against the tip, as he opened his mouth and began to suck the tip, he steeled himself momentarily, relaxing his mouth and throat as he then took more of the other man in, and continued to suck. Using his hands to caresses and tease the rest of the shaft, which he could not fully accommodate in his mouth, he was pleased as Étienne began to thrust into him, his loud moans echoing in the room.

Hearing the other man curse, and then slam his hand against the partition wall, was the only warning Edward had that Étienne was close, and, unlike the other men he had blown, he sucked and swallowed, the pulsing cock in his mouth almost calling to his own neglected need. After a moment, Étienne pulled away, and Edward wiped his mouth on his sleeve, breathing heavily.

The door to his stall opened, Étienne giving him a wide grin, “I’ll say you’ve improved handily…” his eyes gently drank in Edwards disheveled appearance, “stand up.”

Obediently Edward did, and he let out a small sound of surprise as Étienne knelt before him, fingers firmly undoing his fly, and releasing him. The cool air was almost a relief to his burning skin, as Edward watched entranced as Étienne carefully ran his fingers along his throbbing cock, inspecting it. A small smile curled the corner of his mouth, as Étienne looked up, the burning desire in his eyes taking Edward by surprise. He didn’t have much time to think about it, as Étienne easily took him into his mouth, relaxing, and Edward’s knees nearly buckled as Étienne began to deep throat him. Fingers twining into Étienne’s hair, Edward came fast and hard, too far gone to care about lasting. Leaning against the partition, Edward tried to recover, watching in some bemusement as Étienne tucked him back in, making him once more modest.

Standing up, Étienne looked at him hungrily, “I want to fuck you real hard, you little slut.”

The words sent delicious shivers down Edward’s spine.

“You have a choice to remain here, or back to my place…”

There was no question.

“Yours.”

XXXXX

Deliciously sore, Edward’s memory of the night and morning, and lazy afternoon, seemed to only be imprinted in his body, as Étienne ordered in some food and they lazily ate in an attempt to regain the energy spent.

The food around them had quickly disappeared, and Étienne was contentedly looking at him with a thoughtful expression. Feeling a little nervous under the other mans scrutiny, Edward gathered himself together, and looked him in the eye.

“What is it?”

“Just trying to figure out where to train you next,” came the reply. There was a pause as Étienne once more gave him that small smile that Edward was beginning to crave, “I’m thinking that mentoring you is going to be a lot of fun.”

“M-mentoring?” Edward asked.

“Yes… I hadn’t quite realized it last time but… there’s a lot you don’t know and… perhaps it is time to take you to the higher levels of sex…”

“There are levels of sex!?”

“Of course… but I suppose… we should start with perhaps the less daunting venues…” Étienne cocked his head to the side as if in thought, “You’re open to multiple partners at once?”

“Uh – uhm – are you sure you can find multiple men who want to fuck me at the same time?” Edward squeaked.

A look of surprise followed by loud laughter had Edward squirming uncomfortably, until Étienne managed to calm down, “Édouard, I don’t think you quite realize how delicious you are… trust me. I will have men lined around the block to fuck you. Hmmm perhaps I should have a coming out night for you at my club… make a big orgy for you? Would you like that?”

“Uhm…” Squirming around a little, his insides fluttering in a mixture of excitement and embarrassment, Edward figured it probably wasn’t worse than what they had already done, and honestly, the thought of multiple men touching him, fucking him, felt like the ultimate middle finger to everyone who seemed to want him either dead or living the life of a nun, “Yeah actually that sounds great.”

#quatschfic #pc: edmonton #pc: montreal #regret #nsfw//#torn between what he wants and what he should do #hmm

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woojinieemoved · 6 years

Text

3 A.M. ―

member: kang daniel

genre: flufffffff

writing type: paragraph

word count: 2k

summary: you can’t sleep one night so you text daniel || nonidol!au

a/n: just a reupload so if it sucks sorry lol

my masterlist

The sounds of crickets chirping outside late at night and the sound of your fan on high were the only two things you were listening to as you attempted to fall asleep. For some reason, you felt restless and it was too boring laying in bed with your eyes closed when you weren't even tired. You furrowed your eyebrows, getting frustrated at how long you kept your eyes closed. Jumping up quickly to sit up straight and tapping around your bed where you left your phone charging, unlocking it and going to your messenger app. The light of your phone screen shone brightly into your eyes, causing you to flinch and squint at the screen.

To: cat loser

[2:48 am] y/n: daniel? are you awake?

You felt impatient looking at the screen and put your phone down. “Why would he even be awake? It’s almost 3 am,” you thought, sighing, sliding down to rest your head on your pillow again. While you blankly stared at the dark ceiling, you heard a buzzing noise, making you turn quickly to grab the phone.

[2:52 am] dn: yeah babe? why aren’t you asleep?

[2:52 am] y/n: oh you're awake!! i dunno.. i just can’t fall asleep. and shouldn't i be asking you that too?

[2:53 am] dn: haha you’re right

[2:53 am] y/n: idk what to do to fall asleep. i don't feel tired at all :(

[2:55 am] dn: hmmmm. how bout we go on a date?

[2:55 am] y/n: a date?? right now???

[2:55 am] dn: yeah! we can just walk around and i’ll teach you how to skate a little so it won’t be too boring

[2:56 am] y/n: …i mean alright. where do we meet?

[2:56 am] dn: the bus stop near your house? since im bringing my skateboard i won't be long.

[2:58 am] y/n: okayyy get there safely then!!! <3

[2:58 am] dn: you stay safe too. i don't want anything happening to you while you're waiting for me.

[2:58 am] y/n: i knowww hehe :-)

You smiled reading his text saying to stay safe and got up, turning on the lamp next to your bed and walking to the closet to find something warmer to wear. Slipping on one of Daniel’s sweaters that you( stole) borrowed and figures that the shorts you were already wearing were good enough. It was nearing summer time, so the nights weren't too cold, but it had a nice breeze to where it was refreshing. You put a pair of your old sneakers on and headed off to the bus stop that was about 8 min away depending on how fast you walked.

As you were nearing the stop, you spotted someone across the way, squinting and pushing your head forward to see more clearly. You smiled when you realized that it was Daniel, seeing his broad body under the street lights he went under and walked faster to catch up to him. Daniel smiled and opened up his arms as he rolled down the sidewalk with his skateboard when he saw you walking towards him with a smile on your face.

You stopped in your tracks to laugh at his pose as he was inching closer to you, crossing your arms to give him a smirk. He hopped off the board, stepping onto one end to grab the other side that popped up, and pulled you in for a warm hug. You wrapped your arms around his neck, nuzzling your face into his chest, breathing in his cologne that you were all very familiar with.

“I’m guessing you didn’t have to wait?” He said with a smile, his free hand holding your waist as you two started walking down the empty streets.

You were looking down trying to match the slow footsteps the both of you took and looked up at Daniel nodding your head. Doing his signature bunny smile, he rubbed your arm quickly and stopped to put his skateboard on the ground.

“Here. Step on this.”

You looked at him sort of nervously since you’ve never ridden a skateboard before and slowly stepped onto it. Being a skateboard, it was quite wobbly as you attempted to put both of your feet onto it and you grabbed onto Daniel’s (broad ass) shoulders, his arms moving up in case you were to fall, when it moved the slightest bit. You sighed when you caught yourself and came into eye contact with Daniel who was holding back laughter at the image of you trembling on top of his skateboard. Seeing him laugh made you pout which only seemed to make him laugh (with his cute lil scrunched up face when he laughs).

You adjusted your feet still holding onto Daniel and let go when you felt like you were in a steady position. Of course you still feared you were gonna fall off, so your arms were spread out as you looked down at your shaky legs, squatting a little bit to keep your balance.

“How am I supposed to ride this??? I can barely stand on this.” you whined.

Your legs kept trembling, but you took the courage to try to move forward a little bit. As soon as you stook your leg out, you fell forward face first into Daniel’s shoulder, his hands gripping onto your arms.

“Woah, I didn’t expect you to be this clumsy on the board.” He chuckled, giving you a smile as you pushed yourself off of him, stepping off of the skateboard.

Your face flushed red from the embarrassment of barely being able to stand on the skateboard and how swiftly Daniel was able to catch you. He swept the hair that was in front of your face and caressed your cheek with his warm hand.

“Are you okay? You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?” You felt the warmth on your face and nuzzled up against it slightly before shaking your head no. He smiled knowing that you were okay and softly rubbed your cheek with his thumb, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“That’s good. I guess we should stay off the board then?” He asked as he went over to pick up his skateboard next to you. “I’m afraid I’m gonna die if I go on that thing, so yes.” You huffed and crossed your arm, glaring at the board as if it was some rude person you encountered.

He laughed and pet your head. “Alright alright, I understand. Do you want to walk to the convenience store for ice cream then?” Ice cream at 3 am? Doesn’t seem too bad. You nodded and started to slowly skip forward, Daniel grabbing hold of your hand before you got too far ahead in front of him. You smiled looking back at him and intertwined your fingers with his, tightening your grip.

The both of you arrive at the 24/7 open convenience store, walking in to see one worker sitting behind the counter with headphones blasting music into their ears. You grab a melon ice cream (melona is really good lol) and Daniel grabs a strawberry ice cream, the two of you heading out after you pay for your items.

You spot a playground nearby and head towards it, climbing up the weirdly wide kiddy slide that was the shape of a whale, sitting down and consuming your ice creams slowly. “What else should we do?” You asked, staring blankly as you licked at your ice cream. Daniel leaned back, propping his arm behind him to look up at the night sky, his other arm preoccupied with holding his ice cream.

“Hmmm… Admire the sky like a cliche movie scene?” He laughed, swallowing the last bit of his ice cream. “This whole ‘date’ has felt pretty cliche, so why not.” you smirked.

Daniel scooted closer to you and lifted you by your waist, sliding your body in front of his, his arms now wrapped around your stomach and his head nuzzled against the back of your shoulder. You sat there in silence after you finished your ice cream, the grasshoppers chirping somewhere off in the distance. You leaned back against Daniel’s chest and placed your hands over where his arms embraced you.

“I love you.” A smooth sounding whisper right next to your ear, bringing shivers all over your body. He proceeded to place soft kisses on your ear, down to your neck, and back up to your cheek. Your face felt so hot and you felt like your heart was going to burst as he placed those kisses on you.

“Wh-what’s with all of that for…” you mumbled looking at Daniel quite annoyed because you were embarrassed.

He just smiled, giggling at your cute reaction to his sudden action of affection. “I already said why. I just love you~ ”

You puffed your cheeks, pushing Daniel off of you, sliding down the very short whale slide and fast walking to the street lamp that was near the entrance of the park. You let out a giggle, sticking out your tongue playfully at him as he slowly walked towards you.

“First one to your place gets to cuddle with Peter and Rooney!!” You yell before sprinting towards the direction where Daniel’s apartment was. Daniel was taken aback at the sudden action, staring blankly as you ran off, but quickly came back to his senses and started to sprint towards you. Since you got a head start, you decided to hide behind the next turn to surprise him because you knew you couldn’t outrun Daniel even if he was holding something that would hold him back a little.

You waited anxiously until the footsteps got loud enough for you to jump out. When you jumped out, Daniel skidded his feet to stop the speed he built up, incoherently yelled random things and jumped backwards slightly. You were honestly laughing too hard to notice the judgmental face that he gave you as he had his hand on his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat. You managed to stand up a bit more straight, slapping your hands on his chest, letting out weird walrus laughs. “So.. SOrrY DaniEL… hhahHAHAHAHHA” you wheezed and slapped your thigh, wiping the tiny tears forming in your eyes. “You really scared me y/n!!!” his face still looking surprised, “I know you don’t run that fast so I thought something happened when I didn’t see you ahead of me..”

It took you a little bit to stop laughing like a maniac and finally regain your breath. You wiped the tear forming in your eye and looked up at him. “Awwww really? I feel bad for scaring you now.” You said, grasping his hands and tippy-toeing to give him a peck on the lips. When you were back flat on your feet, you smiled seeing that he still ended up smiling. It was such a blessing that he knew how to handle your jokes and pranks.

“Running that fast actually made me tired though. Can we get to your house now?” You asked and wiped the tiny beads of sweat on your forehead. “Alright little princess. Let’s cuddle once we get to the room.” He grinned and pulled you closer to him by your waist, the two of you walking off towards Daniel’s apartment.

The two of you flopped onto the bed, Daniel’s arm under your head and resting on your collarbone. “We should have 3 am dates more often.” You mumbled as you nuzzled the side of your face onto Daniel’s chest. “Even with the skateboard?” You softly slapped his chest with the hand that was resting on it, letting out a huff of air as a laugh. He giggled softly and pet your hair. “Okay I get it.” Daniel stretched his arm out to turn the lamp off, shifting his body so that both of you were comfortable. You were basically almost asleep, the fatigue finally hitting you. The warmth that the closeness of your bodies created didn’t help that much either and it just made you feel sleepier. “Goodnight y/n…” He whispered and placed a kiss on the top of your head. “Gooodnighhhtt…” You slurred and fell asleep in his arms quickly, Daniel also falling asleep shortly after.

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pagesoflauren · 7 years

Text

A Thousand Years (vampire!Jack x reader AU) - Part 2

Part 1

@ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff once again you are the BEST EVER :D

Warning: mentions of assault, violence, and death

Y/N wakes up startled. Her phone is vibrating under her pillow, the alarm going off. It’s 9:00 AM; she has a few more hours left before she has to go to her Friday class. She sits up, eyes focusing on the water bottle, ibuprofen and granola bar on her desk. She feels a slight throb in her head. Reaching out, she grabs the granola bar first, pulling at the wrapper to open it and takes a bite. She chews thoughtfully, looking down at the jacket she’s wearing; it’s not hers. In fact, it doesn’t even look like any jacket she’s seen in stores. It’s a brown Gingham coat and resembles something her grandfather would wear. She shrugs it off, looking at the tag. She doesn’t recognize the brand. When she looks it up, the Wikipedia article states it was established in the 1700s and closed in 1946. How the hell did she get it?

It’s only when she notices the smell that she remembers what happened the night before: her trekking to the bar, perching herself on the barstool and him. Jack. The one who smiled and made her forget her own name. The one who curiously forgot how long he’d been out of school and doesn’t even use his degree anymore.

Finishing her granola bar and taking two ibuprofen, she decides she wants to see him again. Maybe he wants to see me again too, she thinks, why else would he leave his jacket? She makes a plan to go to the bar after class, picking out a presentable outfit that isn’t sweatpants and a cable knit sweater. She feels giddy at the thought of seeing him again.

Jack isn’t sure if he wants to see her again.

He sits alone in his house, thick curtains drawn, despite the wooden boards he placed on his windows to shut the sunlight out, and the lights on a dim setting. He reaches over and scratches behind his cat’s ears. He had found him, Socks, picking around the trash at the local park a block away from the house. He saw him every day for a week while he walked home and decided to take him home on Friday. He stopped at a convenience store to pick up some cat food and fed him out of the can before going out the next day to buy him the things he needed and get him vaccinated. He named him Socks because he had a habit of stealing socks from his drawer and chewing on them, despite having a box full of cat toys in the living room next to his cat tower.

“What do you think, mate?” Jack asks, “Should I see her again?”

Socks, of course, doesn’t reply. He just turns over, laying on his back while Jack continues to pet him.

“You’re no help, you’re just using me for scratches.”

Jack stops, sighing heavily. He’s beginning to think maybe he’s just thirsty, maybe that’s why he can’t stop thinking about her. He decides he’ll go hunt tonight before he starts his shift at the bar.

Jack’s house is a decent way away from the bar, but he doesn’t mind walking. He doesn’t get cold and, if he really wants to, he could be there faster than a car. But he likes looking at the buildings he’s been surrounded by for the past few decades. They’ve changed some, whether it be a new paint job or they’ve been demolished and rebuilt from the ground up. He walks on the darker side of the street, avoiding sunlight as much as possible, which grows easier as the sun sinks lower and lower beyond the horizon. He listens to the sounds of the street: tires screeching to a stop, people singing badly to the radio and doors opening and closing as people go into different restaurants to grab dinner. A cry of “stop!” catches his attention. He moves quickly to the source of the sound, finding a woman fighting off a man who was reaching for her purse.

“Leave the girl alone, will ya?” Jack says, knowing exactly what the man is going to say. He’s seen this too many times. “Or what?” the man sniggers. He’d be easy to overtake, Jack thinks. He decides to go in quickly, not wanting to waste any time. The woman looks absolutely terrified, she’s looking at Jack like her life depends on it.

He simply walks over and grabs the man’s wrist that’s attached to the hand holding the woman. He squeezes and that enough to get the man to let go and cry out in pain. He grabs the man by his shirt collar and shoves him against the wall of a nearby building. “Go,” he says to the woman. She complies without any other word. “Hey take it easy, mate,” the man pleads. “Yeah?” Jack says, “And how many other women have you attacked like you planned to do to the one?” “Mate, please I won’t do it again, I swear.” He’s squirming, trying to get out of Jack’s grip. It’s hard to do with a broken wrist. “Really? I don’t believe you.”

Jack feels his fangs protrude, watching the man’s face twist up in horror. Before he can scream, Jack presses ever so slightly on his throat. He can’t breathe and Jack brings him into a darkened alley. “You’re a real piece of shit, mate, I hope you know that,” he says. With that, he leans down and bites. He sucks in, feeling the rush of blood come into his mouth before he begins drinking. He drinks until the man stops squirming and he’s limp in Jack’s grip. Once done, he lets him go, watching as he drops in a heap on the floor.

Jack wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, exhaling a breath he didn’t know he took. The guilt of taking another human life in order to survive was something he didn’t feel anymore. He’d grown numb to it, which he attributes to time passing. He wasn’t heartless. He didn’t pick up helpless, feeble humans to drink on. He picked on those who were the scum of the earth, traumatizing and wounding those who were helpless and feeble. He didn’t have interest in the men and women who willingly let vampires drink from them; the appeal was very short-lived. There was one beautiful woman he was undeniably attracted to, but there was nothing deep about it. It was the euphoria of drinking for both of them and the sexual tension that arose from having her in his lap while he drank. Jack didn’t want that.

Then he thought about Y/N. He felt that same tug in his chest, ignoring it again. No, he told himself, not again. I can’t.

But maybe I should.

Y/N walked into the bar, Jack’s coat folded over her arm. The bar was buzzing with students who just took exams, who were on a date and others who were celebrating birthdays. She found the same barstool she sat in earlier that morning unoccupied and perched herself on there. When the bartender came out from the back, she felt herself deflate. It wasn’t Jack.

“What can I get you, love?” he said, a charming smile making its way onto his face. “Um, a Manhattan, please.” “You got it,” he said, winking.

She felt her cheeks flush, liking the attention she was getting, but still disappointed that it wasn’t Jack. She waited for her drink awkwardly, and cringed away from the arm that reached for the counter next to her. “Hey,” a male voice said. “Hello,” she said quietly. “You come here often?” How original, she thought. “Um, no.” “Yeah I figured, I’d remember a face like yours.” Very original. “Yeah, no. I just came here this morning and I’m waiting for the bartender that helped me. Then I’m leaving right after, so…” she said, hoping he’d get the hint. “Ah, turning in early? Maybe I can join you.” “I don’t think she wants that, mate, but nice try.” Y/N turned eagerly when she heard the familiar Scottish accent interject. He smiled at her as he slid her drink over, “One Manhattan.” “Thanks,” she said, reaching for her wallet. “I’ve got it,” he said again. “Are you sure?” “Yeah.”

They smiled at each other, not feeling the need to exchange any words or any greetings. The man that had tried to speak to her earlier had disappeared without them noticing. “I’ve got your coat,” she said, handing it over to him. “Oh, thanks,” he says, “You didn’t have to.” “No, no I couldn’t keep it. I just…I looked up the company and it’s really old. I figured it was an heirloom or something.” “I don’t know if you can call it an heirloom,” Jack chuckles. “Why not? It’s old, it’s probably been passed down—“ “Because it was the first thing I bought after I came back from the war.” Y/N tilts her head, “The war…? Oh like, your station in the Middle East? Did you buy it in a thrift shop?” “No, lass,” he says, looking down at the jacket, the memories attached to it flooding back to him, “World War II.” No one else at the bar seemed to hear his confession to her, but her shock was extremely tangible. “You…” she starts, mouth falling open, “Oh my god, that actually makes so much sense. You guys don’t sleep, like, ever so you’re a nighttime bartender and you were freezing when you carried me and you carried me so easily!” “Figured you weren’t catching on last night because you were so exhausted.” “Well that’s part of it but I just…I don’t meet a lot of…you…” “Fair enough,” he says. He can’t stop the words that come out of his mouth afterwards, “Wanna go? I can get someone to cover my shift.” “Are you sure?” “Yeah, a lot of my coworkers owe me, anyway.”

Thirty minutes later, Y/N and Jack are walking out of the bar, heading toward a diner. He holds the door open for her and they find a booth at the back where they can talk privately.

“Can I ask you questions?” she says. “Sure.” “How old are you?” “I was born in 18…1850? Yeah.” “How old were you when you changed?” “Twenty-seven.” “What happened, why did you change?”

Jack’s gaze falls from her face to the empty table.

“Got caught up in a bar fight, of all things. M’friend and I were trying to walk away from these two blokes that were just upset that we got served before them even though they got there first. It was so stupid. We were just running down the street, trying to get to his dad’s place because they pulled a gun.”

He saw Y/N shudder.

“I just heard the sound of the gun then I fell to the ground. I couldn’t process what was going on. I was still breathing. I don’t know where my mate went, but I remember what they said when they got to me. ‘Just leave him,’ one of them laughed, ‘it’ll be more painful that way.’” “Was it?” “It was excruciating. Then my friend came back. ‘Jack,’ he said, ‘I can help. You want me to help?’ I didn’t know what he was gonna do, I was just thinking about how afraid I was. I nodded and he bent down and bit me.” “Did it hurt?” “I don’t know,” he said, his eyes drifting from the table to gaze out the window, “After that, I just woke up. My neck did feel a little sore, but I felt fine. I felt like I was invincible, and I was. I am. But I didn’t know the consequences. My parents…they refused me. I was some creature from hell, no longer their son.” “I’m sorry,” she said.

He smiled somewhat bitterly. “I just, I stayed with my mate. He taught me everything.” “Where is he now?” “He’s with some lass somewhere in the mainland. I lost contact with them when they moved and their phone disconnected.” “Oh. How long ago was that?” “Few years, maybe in the 90s,” Jack says dismissively. He really stopped keeping track years ago. “Oh,” she says. “I’m sorry, really. I know how it feels when that happens.”

Jack looked at her. Her eyes had compassion and sympathy, but behind them there was the slight sting you feel when you know you and a friend had drifted too far apart, however long ago it was. He didn’t want her to feel pain or sadness, or anything like that. She shouldn’t, he thought, She deserves to be happy all the time.

He doesn’t understand where this comes from. He had closed himself off for so long and suddenly these feelings were coming back. He doesn’t talk much to people like him, so he doesn’t know how common it is for a vampire to want a human this way.

“What bar was it?” she asks, interrupting his thoughts. “The one I work at.” “What?” “Yeah,” Jack chuckles, “Figured if those lads ever come back, I’d give ‘em a good scare, maybe rough ‘em up a bit. Then I just never left.” “You’ve been working there since…” “1877.” “Does your boss know?” “Yeah. So does her father, her granddad, her great granddad and her great-great granddad.” “You must be pretty close with them, then?” “I get invited to the occasional family event. I usually give them li’l gifts and such for holidays and their birthdays. They’re lovely. Probably the closest thing I have to friends nowadays.” “Ah I see.”

There’s a pause in questions when the waitress comes and takes Y/N’s order. Once she walks away, Y/N’s back on them. “So, it’s just you?” “Yeah, just me. And my cat.” “You have a cat?!” she says excitedly. “Yeah. Picked him up on my way home one day. He was poking around the garbage cans in the park a few blocks away from my house.” “Aww that’s sweet! What’s his name?” “Socks.” “That’s so cute,” she giggles. “Named him that because the li’l shit keeps stealing my socks. I find them behind the couch, under the bed, in the cabinets…anywhere.” She giggles for a bit, thinking about Jack finding a sock and lecturing his cat about how he shouldn’t take things that aren’t his.

The waitress interrupts again to bring Y/N her milkshake, fries and burger. She digs in, biting into her burger and causing Jack to laugh when ketchup smears onto her lips.

“What?” she asks. “Nothin’, you’ve just got a bit—here, I’ll get it,” he says, grabbing a napkin from the dispenser and reaching across to wipe away the red condiment. “So, um, what…what do you eat?” she asks quietly, picking up a fry and biting half of it off. “I—Well, it’s not—um,” he starts, not knowing how to say it, “I prefer going out of the city. I hunt bears and deer mostly.” “So,” she pauses. She’s thoughtful, trying to find the right words to ask, “You don’t…you don’t eat, um—“ “Not usually,” Jack says, understanding the direction of her question, “I just…it’s only those who attack others. I don’t pick just anyone off the street.” “Oh, well, that’s…good, in a sense. Or, well it is good for you and if you’re helping others then that’s even better, I guess. But that’s just my opinion. Wait, have you ever gotten caught?” “Couple times, by both human police and vampire—“ “You have your own police department?” “Of sorts, yes. They just make sure no one’s going out and over-indulging, committing mass murders or anything.”

She nods, picking up her burger again and taking another bite. “Enough about me,” Jack says, “Tell me about you.” “Well, what about me?” “Everything. I’ve got all night, and it seems you do too.” She laughs at the truth in that statement. “Well, I was born in the 90s…” “Guess I gotta find myself a woman closer to my age,” he says cheekily. He dodges the french fry thrown at his face. “Oh hush, you.”

By the time they’re done talking, it’s 2 AM.

“I’ll walk you back,” he says, sliding out from the booth.

They walk to the door of the diner, thanking the staff as they leave. There’s a comfortable silence between them, and Jack can sense the heat that’s building in Y/N’s cheeks.

He walks her to her building and she stops before the door. “I had fun,” she says, smiling. “Me too, more fun than I’ve had in a long time.” Y/N’s smile grows even wider and brighter and he feels that tug in his chest again. She looks down fiddling with the sleeves of her jacket. “Jack,” she starts. “Don’t say it,” he says. “Say what?” “I…I’ve been here before. And I can’t be here again. I had fun, I did. But this is where it has to end.” “I don’t understand,” she says, her smiling and bright eyes fading into sad ones. “You need to understand that we can’t be together. This is not something you want.” “What are you talking about?” “This life,” he says, “What I do, how I am…” “You’re right,” she says, “I don’t want to be what you are.”

That causes him to look at her. “I don’t,” she says, shaking her head, “At least, not right now. Maybe I’ll change my mind, I don’t know. But…I like you, Jack. I do.” “You do…” he whispers in disbelief. “Yes,” she says, stepping closer to him. She cups his jaw with her hand and strokes his cheek with her thumb. He is so cold. He’s so cold by nature and her body temperature contrasts that so drastically. He realizes he wants to keep her close all the time. He can’t step into the sunlight or else he risks being reduced to a pile of ashes. But with her so close to him, between his arms, he’s suddenly aware of the fact that’s he’s missed the warmth of the sun for the past one hundred and forty years.

Her hand travels to the back of his neck to bring him closer to her height, and she meets him halfway as she stands on her toes. He holds her close, arms tightening ever so slightly, and he can feel her heart beating against his chest.

For the first time in years, he feels human.

woohoooooo!!!

I really hope you guys like this series as much as I do!!! I’m hoping to put out three more parts before Halloween :3

As always feel free to let me know what you think! Love y’all :D

#Jack Lowden #Jack Lowden AU

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baekhyunspizza · 7 years

Text

Emergency Room

Member: Chanyeol

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1.7k

Synopsis: A late-night mishap lands you and an unexpected guest a visit to the emergency room.

“Another test, honey?” Ms. Lee asks with a sympathetic frown as I slide a tub of pistachio ice cream and a pack of Oreos across the counter. Her family owned gas station was conveniently located a two blocks from my dorm at the university, and it serves as my go-to consolement when I fall victim to the errors of Mr. Ko.

“I just can’t catch break in my physics class. And I definitely didn’t need such a low test grade so close to Christmas. Mr. Ko couldn’t teach if his life depended on it,” I reply, the defeat clear in my voice. I actually went into the class feeling good about the material. But one poor exam and a fat red F later, I quickly learned that acceleration and velocity were not my forte.

“Well, you tell Mr. Ko that if he keeps this up, he’s gonna have a very angry Hana Lee to deal with,” she says with a southern drawl, a teasing smile reaching her eyes.

“I’ll make sure to relay the message. He’ll be quaking in his New Balance sneakers,” I laugh. Offering a small thanks to Ms. Lee, I grab my change and take my plastic bag from the counter. I check to make sure my barely-functioning keychain is securely attached to my belt loop, frowning at the little keys hanging onto the misshapen and cracked plastic ring. I wave once more in Ms. Lee’s direction before shuffling out of the store, a subtle chime indicating my exit.

Small snowflakes begin to descend from the sky and I quietly thank myself for deciding to drive to the store instead of walk. Although the store is a mere two blocks from my dorm, I have enough street smarts to know that walking by myself at this time of night would be a stupid idea. That, and I’ve seen just enough episodes of Criminal Minds to make me incredibly paranoid. Just as I mentally applaud myself for my wise thinking, a warm, large hand covers my shoulder and I immediately stop in my tracks.

“Miss,” his deep voice says.

This is it, I think.

It was actually happening. I knew my luck would run out eventually. I am going to die at as a broke college student, wearing my Mickey Mouse sweatshirt and my mom’s Levis from 1997. Holding a tub of pistachio ice cream.

Why couldn’t I have an honorable death, like saving children from an oncoming bus or rescuing puppies from a burning building? I’d even settle for some sort of freak accident. But dying on a late night ice cream run is a little ridiculous. It sounds like something from a flopped murder mystery novel. I can see the newspaper headlines now. Girl Dies Buying Ice Cream from Abysmal Gas-Station. I can’t let myself die in such a humiliating situation. I have too much dignity. Clenching my jaw and balling up my fists, I wheel around on my heel and aim directly for the middle of his face.

“What are you doi-” he asks with wide eyes, not being able to finish his question before my knuckles collide with his nose. Why don’t they emphasize how much socking someone in the face can hurt in the movies? I knew it’d sting a little, but I didn’t expect for my knuckles to feel like they were in split in half underneath my skin. Shaking out my hand to ease the pain, I look back to the man and see fresh blood gushing from his nose. His long, lanky legs stumble back and he bends over the waist, trying to avoid bleeding on his dark jeans and black converse. It drips onto the pavement in small crimson specks and I feel proud.

Yeah, I did that. Go me.

“Serves you right for trying to touch me, jerk,” I yell in his direction before hurriedly reaching for the handle to the driver’s door of my car.

“You dropped this!” he hollers. The man waves a small object in his hand and I squint as an attempt to make out its shape. It catches the light of a nearby street lamp and glints a metallic pink color. Crap. Looking down at the keychain in my hand, I notice there’s only four keys instead of five. He begins to walk towards me with his palms outstretched in front of him. The universal sign of surrender.

“I promise, I’m not gonna hurt you. You just dropped your key while you were fumbling with your bags so I was gonna return it to you,” he said, carefully pinching the petite key in between his thumb and index finger to avoid dirtying it with any blood. Up close, I see that he’s not a middle aged pervert. He’s probably only a year or two older than me. Wavy brown hair covers his forehead and his big eyes are wide with fear of being struck again.

There have only been two other times in my life when I’ve been this mortified. Once, when I was five and had an accident on the first day of kindergarten out of nerves, and again when Bryce Taylor rejected me at the spring formal in eighth grade. But this….This might top the list. I probably just broke the nose of the guy.

“I-I can’t believe I just did that I’m so sorry-” The words cannot come out of my mouth fast enough as I rush up to him and look up to examine his wounds.

“Do you have anything to stop the blood?” he asks, turning his head to the side and spitting out crimson from his mouth. I rummage through my purse for anything that could possibly pause the continuous stream, but it’s a lost cause.

“I don’t-I don’t have anything. Oh God it’s getting worse,” I start to panic as the flow seems to be getting heavier.

“I’m driving you to the hospital.”

“No, it should stop soon. I’ll be fine really,” he says looking at the ground, eyes widening at the large burgundy patches on the concrete.

“No, we’re going. I’m not gonna be able to live with myself if I just leave you here with a broken nose in the snow,” I insist, leading him to my car. I unlock the passenger door and he ducks in, his height proving to be problematic inside my 1994 Honda Accord. Sliding into my seat, I ignite the engine and the vehicle roars to life.

“I never got your name,” I say turning towards him.

“I’m Chanyeol,” he replies, leaning his head back against the headrest.

“Y/N. Sorry for breaking your nose,” I say sheepishly. Snow continues to fall outside, but not heavy enough to making driving difficult.

“So...are you a student at the university?” he asks, trying to break the awkward atmosphere.

“I’m surprised you’re being so cordial to me. But yes, I am.”

“I figured I should get to know the person who’s driving me to the hospital. Maybe we can even be friends.”

“But I broke your nose.”

“I’m not one to hold grudges,” he says, and I laugh at his playful banter. I silently thank God for making him such a friendly individual.

“Maybe. You should have my number, so you can send me any information about the hospital bill. I’d feel awful if you paid for it yourself since this entire thing is my fault.”

“You think I’m gonna make you pay for the bill. I didn’t peg you for a jokester.’

“I’m serious, I’d really feel better if you had it,” I insist, giving him my number in case he needs it.

“Hey, Chanyeol?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you try not to get any blood on my seats? They’re leather.”

“You broke my nose.”

“Touché.”

“Thank you, Dr. Nam. I would say I hope to see you again soon, but that wouldn’t exactly be the truth. At least, I wouldn’t want to visit again under circumstances like this,” Chanyeol says, shaking hands with the middle aged physician.

“It’s my job, son. Maybe you’ll find a better way to approach young women at night,” Dr. Nam replies with a smile.

“Fair enough,” Chanyeol laughs.

I learned a couple of things about Chanyeol as we sat in the urgent care waiting room. He was a law student that grew up near the coast but moved to our small town this year to start settling down. He’s the only one in his family that decided to pursue their education and go to college. He’s also an expert charmer.

“So I never asked, but what was a pretty girl like you doing in a place like that old gas station?” he says, nudging my elbow with his. I look up from the magazine I’ve been reading to pass the time as we wait for his name to be called for a consultation with Dr. Bynes. I roll my eyes at his lame attempt to hit on me, but I smile at the corniness of it all.

“Failed test. Needed some saturated fat and excessive sugar to ease the hurt. And what’s a pretty boy like you doing walking by himself late at night? Haven’t you ever heard of stranger danger?”

“I’d like to not become strangers.”

“I ruined your nose.”

“Oh please. We both know my real moneymaker is my smile,” He flashes a thousand dollar grin at me and I laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Chanyeol asks, confused by my source of amusement.

“It’s just an odd sight. You smiling as your nose is broken and dried blood running down your face. That, and your tooth”

“I’m known for my nice set of chompers.”

“I chipped it.”

“You did not,” he says, reaching for my phone and checking his front teeth in the reflection on my screen.

“Guess the nose wasn’t enough.”

“You know,” he starts, “you’re making it really hard to flirt with you.”

“So what do you think? Could I pull off this look?” Chanyeol asks as we walk back to my car. His nose is covered in white bandages and all of the dried blood has been removed from his face.

“I don’t know, Chip. The whole mummy vibe isn’t really working in your favor,” I reply, pointing to the gauze.

“Chip?”

“Your tooth.”

“Does that make you Mrs. Potts?”

“No way. She’s old.”

“Well, I mean based on those jeans, I wouldn’t have a hard time believing you’re a mom of four,” I hit his arm and scowl at him.

“Hey now, I don’t need you breaking my arm too,” he says as he pretends to wince in pain and rubs the spot where I hit him.

“Dork.”

He just smiles, chipped tooth and all.

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