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when-they-write-stuff · 3 years

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Fucking Stiles Stilinski.

That’s what Derek would like to say.

Fucking Stiles Stilinski and his stupid face, his stupid smile, and the stupid way that Derek would always see him in the hallways and that bright look in his eyes always made him stumble. Fucking Stiles Stilinski and the way that Derek couldn’t get him out of his head for some reason.

For some stupid, unbelievable reason.

Cora thought it was hilarious. Derek thought it was the most annoying thing ever.

Stiles was the most annoying thing ever.

“Hale!”

Derek nearly stumbled over his own feet at Coach’s shout, turning around to see a basketball sailing right toward his face. Eyes rounding, he barely had the chance to duck as laughter filled the air and he glared across the gym— where all the cheerleaders stood in their little group, Stiles right splat in the middle.

Fucking Stiles Stilinski.

“I said, Hale!”

Growling, Derek turned back around as Coach stalked toward him. Derek’s older sister used to tell him that Coach’s bite was worse than his bark, but Derek had come to realize that was utter bull. If there was one thing BHHS’s basketball coach was good at, it was yelling.

“Where the hell is your head, Hale?” Coach shouted, jabbing him on the forehead. Derek swallowed another growl and let the man poke away, knowing better than to ever avidly seek out Coach’s wrath. “You’re living in a daydream today!”

“Sorry, Coach,” Derek mumbled, dropping his gaze. The sound of laughter was still in the air, though, and his eyes snapped back up unconsciously, over Coach’s shoulder as he took in Stiles’s bright and grinning face.

He was always grinning and that bothered Derek like nothing else. The way his eyes would dance, his laughter would make Derek’s heart skip a beat, and— and—

“Hale!”

Derek blinked at the shout right in his ear, feeling like he’d just been dunked into cold water. Coach was scowling now and Derek felt his face turn redder, wishing he could be anywhere else but practice at the moment. “Uh, right. Sorry, Coach.”

“Yeah, kid, you’ve said that already. Are you feeling alright today?”

“I’m fine,” Derek said, forcing himself not to look back over at where Stiles was. “Really.”

“Good,” Coach said. “Because if you miss the game this week, I’m taking you off the starting lineup for the rest of the season.”

Derek looked back at the man in alarm, but Coach just raised his hands, turning away.

“Don’t force my hand, Hale.”

Derek watched him walk away and then despite himself, despite everything, glanced over his shoulder. Most of the cheerleaders had lost interest at this point— except for Stiles. Stiles, who was still staring at him, that crooked smile still hanging on his lips. And the moment his eyes met Derek’s, something in his expression changed. He grinned wider, raised a hand, and Derek quickly turned back around.

He wasn’t doing this. He wasn’t… ugh.

Fucking Stiles Stilinski.

“I don’t know why, man,” Stiles said, slamming his locker shut. “But the guy hates me. You should’ve seen him at practice yesterday.”

“I don’t think he hates you,” Scott said, shrugging on his backpack. Stiles shot him a disbelieving look and the boy shrugged, starting down the hall with Stiles at his side. “I just don’t think he knows you. I mean, you guys never even talk, right?”

Stiles glowered. “I was his chemistry partner last semester and I’ve been on the cheerleading team since I was a freshman. He should know me well enough to at least smile back when I wave hi.”

“He just ignored you?”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “I dunno, dude. He gets all weird, clams up, and then pretends like I don’t exist.”

Scott gave him a curious look, but Stiles wasn’t paying his friend any attention anymore. Speaking of the devil, he eyed Derek as they passed him and a few of his buddies gathered around their lockers. And for a moment— one brief, making Stiles’s stomach clench moment— grey-green eyes met his own.

But then Hale’s face tightened, his eyes snapped away, and he slammed his locker so hard, all of his buddies jumped.

Stiles rolled his eyes, walking faster past. “See what I mean?”

Scott was still giving him a strange look. But Stiles only half-noticed it, forcing himself not to glance over his shoulder as the sounds of the jocks' voices faded. Glaring down at the floor, he wondered what the hell was so wrong with him. Or maybe what the hell was so wrong with Derek Hale.

So Stiles might have been crushing on him for three years now. So what? It wasn’t like it actually mattered judging by the fact that Hale had never even really acknowledged his existence anyway.

“Whatever,” Stiles said. “Screw Derek Hale.”

“Sure, man,” Scott said, shaking his head. And honestly, Stiles thought he was holding something back. But did he care? Absolutely not. Stiles had no cares in the world.

Especially not about Derek Hale.

“I’m just saying,” Erica said, readjusting her uniform and dabbing at her glossed lips. “If you like him so much, you should consider talking to him once in a while.”

Derek pulled a face, making Boyd snort at the girl’s side, one arm wrapped around her waist. The rest of the cafeteria was far too loud around them and he was trying to concentrate on the chemistry homework that he had definitely not done. Back when Stiles had been his partner, Derek had actually been driven to get it done, if only to impress the boy. Not like it’d ever worked, he didn’t think.

He didn’t really know how the hell to impress Stiles Stilinski.

“I don’t like him,” Derek growled, ignoring Isaac’s disbelieving scoff. “I just think he has no right being so loud and what the hell is up with the outfit?”

Erica shot him an obvious look, gesturing down at her own, and Derek rolled his eyes.

“That’s different.”

“Is it?” Isaac asked mildly, attention fixed on the orange he was trying and failing to peel. “Or is it because whenever you catch the sight of Stilinski in a crop top on the court, you trip over your own feet and lose the ball?”

Derek shot him an annoyed look. Isaac wasn’t even paying attention.

“He’s right,” Erica said, smirking wickedly. “But if you’d like, Der, I can put in a good word. Stiles is my Batman and he sure could use his own Clark Kent.”

“Shut up.”

“Okay, whatever,” the girl shrugged. “Just tell me if you change your mind.”

Derek glowered even more, gaze still drifting across the cafeteria. Totally not toward the table where Stiles sat surrounded by his friends, Scott’s arm slung over his shoulders in a way that definitely didn’t make Derek frown.

“Whipped,” Erica snorted across from him. Derek turned the weight of his glare toward her, trying to wipe at least some of that knowing smirk from her lips.

It didn’t work.

If Stiles was sure of one thing, it was that Mr. Harris hated him.

It wasn’t like chemistry was his least favorite class or anything— or at least, it didn’t use to be. But he was pretty sure Mr. Harris hated him with all his heart and soul, and that had kind of soured the class for Stiles as the year went on.

Which was why when the man stuck them with some lame-ass book assignment and proceeded to get on his phone, acting like none of his students existed, Stiles shot Scott a grin and held out his hand, making a grabby gesture.

“How much money would you give me to flip this table, right here, right now, in the middle of class?”

Scott gave him a wide-eyed look, which only made Stiles grin wider.

“Cause I swear, I’ll do it.”

“Don’t,” Scott said, eyes darting nervously to where Harris sat. “He’ll have you in detention for the rest of the year.”

“It’s almost over anyway,” Stiles said, still grinning. “And he can’t give me detention if I accidentally ‘fall’ now can he? Twenty bucks and I’ll make him forget all about this stupid time filler assignment, easy peasy.”

“Stiles—”

“I’ll take you up on that.”

Stiles turned around, blinking in surprise at Erica Reyes. She smirked, nodding toward Harris.

“But you have to do it so hard, he falls out of his chair.”

Stiles looked at her for a long moment, debating. At the desk beside her, Boyd shifted a little nervously, but didn’t say anything to talk his girlfriend down. Chewing on his lower lip, Stiles thought for one more moment, then grinned brightly, holding out his hand.

“Deal.”

“Money after,” Erica said, eyes glinting. “But he has to be out of his chair, Stilinski.”

Scott was still giving him a pleading look, but Stiles pretended like he didn’t see it as he turned back around. Harris was still fixated on his phone, feet propped up on his desk. Stiles studied the man, tilted his head, and then shoved himself up so fast, his chair went tipping and he caught the underside of the table, taking it with him as everything went spilling to the floor.

There was a shout, a yelp. Stiles watched in absolute glee as Harris jerked so hard, he kicked his coffee cup off his desk and his chair tumbled backward, taking the man and the cord of his laptop, wrapped around his foot, with him.

For a moment, the classroom was silent. Stiles glanced back at Erica, who looked like she was just barely containing a fit of laughter.

Then, “Stilinski!”

Stiles winced, shooting Erica one last look. Her face was bright red now. “Twenty bucks, Reyes.”

“Derek will cover me,” Erica said, jerking her head to the table across the room. Stiles looked over, startled, to see Hale looking at him with wide green eyes, face a little pale.

Stiles offered a weak smile, raising a hand in a small wave. And then the boy was looking sharply away.

Stiles didn’t even have a chance to feel insulted before Harris had grabbed the back of his collar and dragged him from the room.

Stiles did, after all, get Friday afternoon detention for the next month, despite his protests that the whole ‘table flipping accident’ was really an accident. He supposed it was worth it though; twenty bucks was a two or three milkshakes at his favorite diner if he didn’t get fries.

“I can’t believe you, dude,” Scott said, elbowing him in the side. “That was so stupid.”

“That was so genius,” Stiles said, elbowing him back. “Harris completely forgot about the assignment and I’m up twenty bucks.”

The boy just grilled his eyes. “From Derek?”

The grin slipped off of Stiles’s lips. In all of the excitement, he'd completely forgotten about Erica absolutely screwing him over. Catching his expression, Scott barked a laugh, patting him on the back and starting away.

“Best of luck with that, man.”

“Hey, wait! Scotty? Scott!”

The thing about Derek Hale is that Stiles wasn’t really intimidated by him, per-say. Sure, the guy was a year older, constantly gave him the cold shoulder, and was always surrounded by his ‘too cool for school’ jock buddies. But Stiles was also pretty sure Derek was a bit of a nerd. Even if it was just secretly so.

He’d probably been the best chemistry partner Stiles had ever had. Even if he’d pretended like Stiles didn’t exist the entire time.

He sought him out before the game, heart thudding against his chest in a way that Stiles didn’t really understand. It was hard enough separating Derek Hale from his buddies, but his sister also stuck to his side— and she was intimidating.

Cora was Stiles’s grade and, like him, a few classes ahead. She also scared the crap out of Stiles whenever those eyes lit up with anything close to mischief.

“Good afternoon, Stilinski,” she said as Stiles approached, arms folded across her chest. “Nice top.”

Stiles glanced down at himself and then rolled his eyes, glancing at Derek. For some reason, the boy looked a little constipated and his face was bright red. “Erica owes me twenty bucks.”

Cora raised an eyebrow, glancing over at her brother. Derek just stared.

Stiles sighed. “She said you’d cover her.”

“She— what?”

“Twenty bucks, dude,” Stiles said, sticking out his hand. “Pay up.”

Cora made a scoffing noise and clapped Derek on the shoulder before giving Stiles an amused look. “And that’s my cue to leave. Go easy on him, Stiles. Derek gets a little tongue-tied when he can see skin.”

Stiles blinked, unsure what to do with any part of that sentence. But Derek’s face was red all the way to his ears now and before Stiles could say a word, he was turning away too, starting toward the locker room.

Stiles blinked again, rooted to the spot for a moment. Then, shaking his head, he started after the boy.

“Hey, dude, wait!”

Derek did not, in fact, wait.

Stiles followed him into the locker room, stumbling over his own feet as he tried to catch up. Derek went straight for his locker and started to tug off his shirt, making Stiles yelp and avert his eyes.

Which was stupid, right? Yeah, that was stupid. It’s not like he’d never seen another dude change in the literal locker room before.

“I don’t have your money,” Derek said, sounding like he was grinding his teeth together. Stiles licked his lips nervously, turning to face the boy again.

He was still shirtless.

“Uh, right,” Stiles said, shaking his head. Silently, he willed Derek to pull on his jersey or maybe just stop stripping altogether. His mind was blank for the entire time that Derek finally pulled his basketball jersey over his head, raising an eyebrow afterward as if he didn’t know why Stiles was still within spitting distance of him.

“Well?”

Stiles opened his mouth, closed it, and then frowned. “Okay, dude, what the hell is your problem?”

Derek paused with the jersey half pulled down his torso. Stiles tried not to blush.

“You’ve literally only spoken to me like twice,” Stiles said. “And still hate me for some reason. Have I ever done something to offend you? Are you offended by all that is—” he gestured to himself up and down— “This?”

Hale looked taken aback. Stiles’s throat tightened.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I don’t…” Derek shook his head and pulled his jersey all the way down. “You’re fine.”

“I’m fine?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess.”

Stiles stared at him. He couldn’t see much of the boy’s face in the darkness, but he was pretty sure he was still lying about something. Derek grabbed his bag, starting to brush past, but Stiles caught his arm before he could go anywhere.

Derek made a noise of surprise, spinning back around. And Stiles quickly let go, retreating a step back, and promptly got his feet caught in his own bag, a noise of surprise leaving his mouth before he started to topple over.

He definitely wasn’t going to be fine after this, some part of his brain supplied helpfully.

Only, Stiles didn’t brain himself. Suddenly, there was a hand around his forearm and seconds before Stiles hit the lockers, Derek hauled him back up, grunting slightly.

Except, just because Stiles excelled at making bad things even worse, he found himself lurching forward with the momentum, slamming right into his so-called “you’re fine, I guess” savior.

This time, it was Derek’s turn to go toppling. And the only help Stiles provided was him falling right after the boy.

In all the ways he could die, Stiles never thought it would be death by angry-jock-who-just-got-tackled. Underneath him, Derek’s eyes were wide, face pale, and Stiles stared back, pretty sure his heart had stopped beating in his chest.

For a moment, he was almost terrified to breathe. Then, slowly, he realized he wasn’t dead yet.

“Um,” Stiles said, face turning hot. “Sorry.”

He half-expected Derek to shove him off or maybe give him a good punch in the face first. But instead, the boy just stayed there, frozen, eyes wide and pupils dilated. Stiles felt his throat close, carefully starting to push himself up.

“Stiles,” Derek said croakily. Stile abruptly froze.

“Oh my god, dude, I’m so sorry. Did I break something? Please tell me I didn’t break anything.”

Derek was still staring at him. And Stiles didn’t mean to drop his gaze to the other boy’s lips, he really didn’t. It wasn’t like he’d never imagined what it would be like if Derek one day kissed him. Possibly after he realized Stiles actually existed, possibly after he realized how damn hot Stiles was.

Because he was, thank you very much.

“Stiles,” Derek said again. And Stiles realized he’d been staring for much too long.

Shit.

In a second, Stiles was pushing himself up. He half dragged Derek with him, swaying a little as his heart thudded against his chest. The silence in the locker room was almost too loud as Derek stared at him for a long moment, chest rising and falling a little too fast.

“So,” Stiles said, running a hand through his hair awkwardly. “About that twenty dollars—”

He was cut off by the action of Derek kissing him.

Derek Hale. Derek Hale was kissing him and Stiles was pretty sure he hadn’t just hit his head too hard when they both fell or something. For a moment, he was too surprised to do anything but make a startled noise at the back of his throat, and then Derek was crowding him against the lockers, one hand carding through his hair as Stiles came snapping back to himself like a rubber band stretched too far.

Derek Hale was kissing him. And dammit if Stiles didn’t kiss him back the moment Stiles exe. was working again.

If he found out later that he had just hit his head too hard or maybe Derek had actually killed him, Stiles supposed he’d be fine. He’d be fine because yeah, he’d probably thought about this a thousand times, but he’d never actually seen it happening.

He also kinda hadn’t ever done anything like this before, so he really hoped Derek wasn’t about to call him the worst kisser ever or something.

Stiles let Derek take the lead as the boy tightened his grip in Stiles’s hair. And yeah, he was so glad he’d decided to let it grow out Sophomore year. Because this? This was every one of his fantasies.

Suddenly, there was the sound of a buzzer from outside.

Stiles jerked so hard, he slammed his head against the lockers, groaning in pain as the kiss broke. He felt a little dazed, a lot shocked, and the moment he opened his eyes, Derek was looking at him with that ‘caught in headlights’ expression again.

Buzzer, some part of Stiles’s brain offered.

The game.

“Oh, shit,” Stiles said, snapping back to reality. If he was the reason that the star player of the basketball team was late to the game, Lydia was totally going to kick him off the cheer squad. Derek was starting to look a little more grounded too, thankfully, and even in the dim light, Stiles could tell his face was bright red.

“Um…”

“Yeah.”

“That was—”

“Mm-hm.”

Derek snapped his mouth shut, eyes flitting from Stiles’s face, to his lips, and then back up. And that was Stiles’s move, wasn’t it? “Was that bad?”

Stiles blinked. Once more, Stiles exe. logged off for a second and then he shook his head, staring. “No? No, definitely not. No.”

“I, uh, don’t hate you,” Derek said. A small, almost shocked laugh built up in Stiles’s throat.

“I could tell.”

Derek looked down at himself, his uniform, and then toward the door. When he looked back, his expression was almost hesitant, and Stiles was almost surprised he’d never seen a look like that before. “I have a game.”

“Yeah,” Stiles said, finally cracking a small smile. Because his heart had stopped thudding against his chest now and he just felt a little warm. A little tingly. Which, if this was all real, was actually quite pleasant. “Yeah, dude, I’m usually there too.”

Derek’s ears turned red. “Oh, yeah.”

Stiles looked at the boy, hesitated for a moment, and then leaned forward, pecking him on the cheek. Derek immediately went statue-still again and Stiles snorted despite himself, patting the boy on the shoulder as he slipped by. “That’s for good luck, Hale. I’ll see you out there?”

Derek was still wide-eyes and speechless when he turned around. Still grinning, Stiles offered him a wink and salute, before all but stumbling toward the door.

He could feel Derek staring after him. But the boy didn’t say another word.

Stiles had never seen himself the one to break Derek Hale.

Derek stayed after the brown-haired, amber-eyed boy in silence, his thoughts moving slowly. For a moment, he felt dazed. Then winded. Like he’d already played the game, won, and had maybe been declared MVP or something.

But then Stiles was gone, Derek was left in the silence, and he finally snapped out of his trance.

A trance, yeah. That’s what he could call it.

Because he had just kissed Stiles. He had just kissed Stiles Stilinski.

Derek blinked, then reached up, touching his lips. And fuck, Stiles had tasted like cinnamon and spices. And somehow, it had all been better than Derek might have ever always wondered.

He had just kissed Stiles.

“Oh,” Derek said, as the sound of the scoreboard buzzer went off outside the locker room again. Game— starting— right.

Oh.

Fucking Stiles Stilinski.

Oh gosh, so I've never actually written a Sterek High School fic, so I apologize if it's a bit rough around the edges. I couldn’t figure out to work the jumper part in, but I hope crop-tops were a okay substitute @wolfile! Thank you so much for the prompt <3

(if you enjoy my writing, consider sending a coffee? You can also request a prompt if you’d like!). https://ko-fi.com/rh27writer

#sterek #teen wolf #derek hale #stiles stilinski #teen wolf fanfic #sterek fanfic #sterek moodboard #teen wolf moodboard #teen!au #high school au #derek hale x stiles stilinski #first kiss #ficlet #wolfile #prompts #fluff #humor #petition to let stiles wear crop tops

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babiekeiji · 4 years

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Then he made one last effort to search in his heart for the place where his affection had rotted away, and he could not find it. — Gabriel Garcia Marquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

Friends Don’t Do (What We Do)

the akaashi keiji installment to A Heart is A Heavy Burden. masterlist

warnings angst! contains themes of sex, romantic ambiguity—but this is NOT a friends with benefits fic, cursing

a/n this fic does deal with the subject of infidelity, reader’s discrection is advised!!

taglist @miyulovestowrite @hqprotectionsquad @savemesteeb @the-black-birb @hqkeiji @bb-noya (send an ask to be added to the taglist!)

— ♥️ —

The sea is a tapestry.

It is Santorini, Greece, after all—almost everything is a form of art on the island. However, from where you stand, the sea is a messy, glowing tapestry of the most brilliant shade of azure, slowly fading into navy and into the endless horizon. It is time for the sun to slip deep into slumber; the sea then amends with the sinking of the sun, changing what was once bright blue hues to a darker, more serene shade, and then finally reflecting the melancholic yet soothing night sky.

You are familiar with Santorini. You come home to the island whenever you can, but every summer on it is your favorite; the kind of summer where the sand is just a little warmer and the sun shines a little brighter. You spend every day of summer in your little home-away-from-home. You’ve decorated it how you want, and you come and go as you please; needless to say, life in Santorini is nothing short of paradise.

Your next door neighbor, Keiji, has lived on the island for two years with his dog. Every time you visit, it’s Keiji who’s the first to greet you—Hey! He waves. Glad to see you back, you’re as beautiful as the last time I saw you!

Thank you! Do you want to have dinner with me later? Is your usual reply.

Keiji’s answer is always yes.

Despite the friendliness you share with him, you don’t exactly consider him your friend.

You met him by the pier two years ago—Keiji has his own yacht, you see, and is therefore considered a rich, rich man—on a sunny Friday noon. You make it a habit to talk to the locals; and old lady Cora was ogling the new guy sitting by the edge of his boat, having a drink all by himself.

“Who is that?” You ask once she points, and she but smiles warmly as she says, “He’s our new boy.”

“Our new boy?”

“He’s new to the neighborhood,” old Cora swoons, “I have never seen such tanned skin before. He’s beautiful.”

You squint your eyes in an attempt to look at him. He’s wearing a thin white button down and lightly washed blue shorts; a pair of eyeglasses rest atop his nose. Fairly built, but like Cora had mentioned, beautifully tanned. “Yep, he sure is.” You muse, shrugging. Cora slaps your forearm lightly and shakes her head.

“You should try talking to him,” she says, “I think you’ll like him. Very nice kid, he is. He gave me the sweetest smelling peach.”

With one final push from Cora you go and walk down his pier.

“Hey!” You shout, and he turns his head to look at you. He places his glasses atop his head and points to himself, raising an eye. You nod. “Yes, you!”

He puts down his drink and walks over to the edge of his yacht, to where you’re standing. His yacht floats on the cerulean sea but is held back from moving away by a tie knotted to a metal knob on the pier. Despite the waves, he doesn’t seem to have much trouble walking. “Hi,” he introduces himself, holding out his hand with a small smile. “I’m Keiji, nice to meet you.”

His accent his thick; though his pronunciation doesn’t give the impression that he’s inadept at speaking English. You take his hand and say your own name as an introduction, “Nice to meet you too. Cora told me to walk on over here to introduce myself to you. You’re new here?”

“Yes,” he places his hands on his hips. “I just moved, actually. Up there, that is my house.”

He points, and the house that’s right next to yours is where his finger points. “Beside that house? The one with a lot of plants?”

“Yes.”

“That’s where I live!” You tell him, “What a coincidence.”

“Really?” He asks, more curious than incredulous. “That’s great. It’ll be nice to have a lively neighbor I can talk to,” he jabs his thumb over his shoulder, nudging his head towards the same direction. “Do you want some champagne? We could talk inside the yacht where it isn’t too hot.”

Thinking about how you have nothing else to do, you agree. “That would be great,” you say, “I haven’t met a lot of people my age around here. I’m glad we’re neighbors.”

When you turn back to gauge Cora’s reaction, she does nothing but smile and wave you off as you step into his yacht holding his hand.

The days turn into weeks and into months, and pretty soon you consider yourself close enough to Akaashi Keiji to call him your friend.

That is, if friends held hands as they walked down sidewalks. If friends hugged the way you two did. If friends kissed the way you two did and had sex the way you two did; if yes, then he is your friend.

To an extent, yes you were friends; he went with you to the market some mornings and hung out with you some afternoons. Cooked dinner for the two of you once or twice, maybe more; stayed and invited himself over once the two of you got comfortable. It was like this for a long while, this sort of ambiguity between the two of you starting to settle like sand to water—sinking, leaving little to no room for imagination as you already know what happens next.

Even as friends, you memorize the planes of his body; his godly toned arms and the feel of his skin, hot to the touch, burning like fire—all these memories run hazy in your mind, but with time becomes ingrained into your own muscle memory that you just know your own body’s caving in on you. It hunts, daresay looks for Keiji at night, in more ways than one; your eyes, to stare right into his, your hands, to feel, touch him all over, your arms to wrap him in a tight embrace.

It has you thinking: what exactly were you two?

There was never an explicit agreement to what the two of you were, nor was there a conversation regarding so. You don’t know how to bring it up, or when—Keiji doesn’t seem to bothered with how your current arrangement was going, but you were. With every waking day you wonder if you’re nothing but Akaashi Keiji’s newest summer fling, or if you’re actually something he wants to hold on to for a long time.

You don’t know which one you want to be.

But when Keiji holds you close and tells you stories of Japan, of his life in Japan, of all his travels from all around the world, you find yourself falling a little deeper into the chasm that is love. He speaks of Japan as if he watched a legend in the making; of snowy mountains and flower petalled springs, of quaint neighborhoods and of cities dappled with all all sorts of neon lights. “You’d love it in Japan,” he murmurs, bringing you closer to him. “I know you would because I loved it there.”

Keiji doesn’t hesitate to act like he wants to be special to you too—too often the two of you would stroll down to the beach to dance in the low light of the sunset, all smiles and twirls and hugs. One time he took you down to the pier, the two of you shared a peach he picked from some old woman’s tree (she was kind enough to let him have it, though he insists it was because she was bewitched by his good looks). “Greece is a dream,” he says, feeding you a part of the peach and wiping away the juice that dribbles from your lips, “But I’ve never known Greece the way I know it with you.”

His words make you blush. Like a fire slowly being ignited deep inside of you, travelling through your veins and through every crook and crevice of your heart, Akaashi Keiji’s every deed burrows itselves deep into your mind and in your emotions.

To sum it all up, everything Akaashi does just makes your heart grow fonder.

Even when you know it’s wrong.

The morning arrives, and today it smells oriental. You figure Keiji is making breakfast as you wake, because that’s usually how it’d go; he’d be cooking, and your little house would either smell mediterrenean or oriental. Either way, Akaashi never fails to brighten your mornings.

Except for this time.

You’ve been thinking about it the whole night; of what would be of your relationship when you finally have to go back to where you came from; of what the days and the nights you spend with Akaashi actually meant something, or if it meant anything at all—needless to say, not an ounce of sleep was spent on you last night.

You sit at the table as you watch Akaashi cook. “Good morning?” He greets, sparing you a glance over his shoulder. “Are you not feeling okay?”

“I’m fine,” you lie through your teeth. “My mind’s just...full.”

“Full? Of what?”

“Of you.”

“Huh. That’s nice.”

“Not in the way you want it to be filled, though.”

He turns off the stove and puts down his spatula, turning to you. “What do you mean by that?”

“Akaashi...” you start, “I..I don’t know where to begin with you.”

“Give me real answers,” he replies, “If we need to talk about something, then we should.”

“...What am I to you, Akaashi?”

He blinks. If he’s feeling anything similar to what you’re feeling now, he must be good at concealing it and maintaining his composure. If he isn’t, you have a strong urge to kick him out of Greece and leave him as fish feed.

He opens his mouth to answer, but closes it immediately in careful thought. He crosses his arms over his chest. “Why the sudden question?”

“Are you actually going to ask me that, Akaashi?”

“Yes?” He knits his eyebrows together in confusion, “We were fine as we were. Why complicate things like this?”

“Tell me, Keiji.”

“We’re fine—we are what we are,” he mutters. “We don’t need a label to what we mean to each other.”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong,” you reply. “Maybe it doesn’t matter to you, but it means something to me, Keiji. I don’t want to be treated like I’m something you use to pass the time!”

“I don’t think of you like that.”

“But that’s what I feel you do, Akaashi!” You say, “Every minute of each passing day here in Greece I spend with you, and I don’t even know what we are! When I look at you I feel like I’m looking at the stars, Akaashi! When I’m with you I feel like I’m the prettiest girl in the world—but from who am I getting this attention? My boyfriend? My best friend? My fuck buddy? I feel like none of these feelings are sincere because even if you give it, I don’t know if you mean it because I don’t know what I am to you!”

“I’m telling you that doesn’t matter,” He says adamantly, “My feelings for you are real. Realer than they’ve ever been for anyone else.”

“Then tell me straight, Keiji,” you say. “What am I to you?”

“Jesus—are you ever going to let this go?”

“Fuck no! I’m not going to let this go when how I feel is being compromised because of this, Akaashi!!”

“Why can’t you trust me?! I’m saying my feelings for you are real—”

“This is not about trust!”

“—And that you didn’t need to put yourself in this situation if you could just trust me!”

“How hard is it to give me an answer, Keiji? Do you like me? Do you love me? Because I don’t want to be spending each moment thinking that I’m actually falling for you when you aren’t doing the same!”

“Of course I like you. Why would you doubt that?”

“Do you love me, Keiji?”

He’s silent.

You’re hoping. You’re left hoping this silence means anything but hesitation. The silence is almost defeaning, and the way Akaashi doesn’t dare to meet your eyes just hurts to your very core. You want to beg him to speak—scream, shout, to say anything, to show that he cares—but you know there’s no forcing this man to do anything he doesn’t want to do.

“...You’re going to be upset no matter what I say,” he shakes his head in resignation. “I—”

“I’m going to be upset if you don’t tell me the truth, Keiji.”

“Exactly,” he emphasizes. “I do love you, but the truth is going to hurt the both of us no matter how softly I let you down.”

“What the fuck do you mean?”

Akaashi walks over to the table to sit across from you; and although his seat is only three feet away from yours, he’s the most distant he’s ever been to you now than ever before.

“I don’t want to lie to you.”

“Then tell me the truth.”

“But I don’t want to hurt you either,” he looks up to you and grabs your hands over the tabletop, eyes pleading and brimming with tears. His voice cracks as he says, “My feelings for you are as true as they can be, my love, but I’m afraid you might never understand where I stand in life.”

You pull your hands from under his and cross them over your chest. “Tell me the truth.”

He leans his elbows on the table, palms together in front of his face as if he was praying, and he sighs. “I want to think of you as my girlfriend, yn.”

“So why can’t you—?”

“—Because I have a husband.”

What?

Instantaneously, a tear slips from your eye. You don’t even know how you got to react that fast; all you know is that you’re crying softly, looking towards Keiji, almost begging with your eyes for him to tell you that this is just a joke. You feel as though all the wind has been knocked from your lungs—your tears won’t stop their course down your cheeks, and no matter how much you force yourself to face him, you can’t bring yourself to.

You feel dirty. You feel absolutely filthy—you were a homewrecker, and you didn’t even know!

“What the fuck,” you gasp, breaking down on the dining room table; you’re laughing. Laughing like this is the funniest punch line on earth, all while the tears don’t stop. “What the fuck, Keiji—you’re fucking joking, right?” You laugh. “If this is a joke, I’m waiting for you to say that it is.”

“It’s not,” he looks up to you, eyes red and body trembling as he cries. “I’ve used you, yn. I used you to escape a stupid marriage I never even wanted—and when I finally found someone I loved—wanted to be with sincerely—I just couldn’t bring myself to ruin what we had. But I love you—”

“No you don’t,” you chuckle in anger, “Don’t fucking say that.”

“And I know that because I love you, I can’t lie to you.”

“God, Keiji, don’t pretend to care! I know you don’t!”

“I do! I do care!”

“You fucking don’t—”

“If I didn’t why did I bother using my time on you, yn?” He asks with a tear-striped face, and you only sob some more. “Why did I tour the whole of Santorini with you? Why did I spend all of the twenty-four hours of my day on you? Because I love you, yn! I love you more than I love a stupid marriage!”

“If you truly loved me, you would have told me the truth.”

He’s facing the ceiling, sniffling, wiping away his tears, and you can’t help but think that even in this broken state, he’s still the most beautiful man on Santorini.

“I’m sorry, yn.” He admits. “I should have been truthful to you—but please, understand that I do love you.”

“Get out of my house.”

Though you know it’s no use because he lives eight feet away from you, you repeat, “Get out of here, Akaashi! I can’t even look at you right now, fuck—you made me a homewrecker, Akaashi! I didn’t even know that! You used me!”

“I loved you—”

“Well you didn’t love me enough,” you cry. “Leave, Keiji, and let this be the last time you ever set foot into my home.”

You don’t spare him even a glance as he trudges to your front door with a heavy heart.

He grabs the doorknob, and as he opens it, he takes one last look at everything good he’s ruined because he couldn’t love enough; and then he looks at you, hunched over your dining table, the best thing to happen to him, now wanting nothing to do with him all because we was a coward.

He leaves without another word.

It’s your last day on Santorini before you leave to go back to your hometown, and you go down to the pier to take one last look at the sea.

You wonder how the sea stays the same piece of art as it always was...a tapestry of all the blues and the whites of the ocean, so calm yet so volatile. It’s the same view you looked at before and after Keiji, yet after all the disaster, it stays the same.

What am I thinking, you say to yourself, of course the sea isn’t affected by my bullshit.

The sea says otherwise by delivering a bigger wave this time, crashing into the pier’s pillars even stronger than the last.

So you remember that even the most beautiful of tapestries can be ruined by a single thread, so are the deepest, most loving of relationships can be broken with one little lie.

You leave, and you don’t know when you can come back.

#akaashi keiji #akaashi keiji x reader #angst #haikyuu writing #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyū #haikyuu x reader #x reader #fukurodani #imagines #oneshot #sports anime #anime #ahahb

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perriewinklenerdie · 4 years

Text

Monopoly (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Open Heart, Ethan Ramsey x MC

Author’s note: Hello, hello, hello! Guess who just finished her exams! I’ve had this one written for a couple of days and now that I’m finally free, I’m not feeling guilty spending my time away from books :D

AO3 link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22885750

Tag list: @paleweasels , @lilyofchoices , @hopelessromantic1352, @kittykatchoices, @valiantlychaoticbarbarian , @radlovedreamer , @usuallyamazinglyaverage, @palestazure, @cordoniaqueensworld, @universallypizzataco, @princess-geek, @faithhasnowords, @mightyfangirlofthefandoms, @drakewalkerfantasy, @timmagicktoad, @laceandlula, @greywitchyshots, @llamasgrl, @gingerjane15, @bucket-harrington , @marywrites-things , @ethanplaysfavorites , @mfackenthal , @betelgeusebee , @simsvetements, @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction, @buzz-bee-buzz, @owleyes374, @cora-nova, @aworldoffandoms, @l822, @cream-ray, @ughhhxjazzy, @silverlitskies, @justendlesssummerfeels, @togetherwearerapture, @desmaranj, @edgiestwinter, @friedherringclodthing, @daisy-ashton, @waytooattuned, @choicesgremlin , @lapisreviewsstuff, @the-soot-sprite, @writerapprentice, @chasingrobbie, @choicesobsessedd, @cassiusownsmyass, @x-kyne-x, @thisperfectmemory, @drakewalker04, @rookie-ramsey, @jlynn12273, @thepinknymph @dr-brianna-casey-valentine, @a-i-n-a-a-s-h

Enjoy! <3

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„You want me to do what?” he asked, leaning back against the back of the couch, finishing his glass of water. Claire’s eyes sparkled with a faint resemblance of mischief. Before she could answer, the doorbell rang, announcing their food being delivered. She squeezed his knee, standing up to pay for the dinner. Her hand reached for her wallet, but at the same moment she heard Ethan clear his throat and their conversation from a couple weeks ago flashed in her mind.

“I know how much money you have, and I know how much money I have. You have better things to spend it on, so please, don’t fight me on this.” He said, pushing her card away and giving the cashier his own. She tried to argue but was met with a stern look that told her that trying would be futile.

She paid for their food, thanking the delivery person, then closed the door behind her and leaned against it. Shaking the box in her hand, she grinned at his annoyed face.

“I can’t believe you’re making me eat pizza on a weeknight.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, it’s good and you know it. You may try to hide it, but I saw how your eyes lit up when the bell rang.” Nodding her head, she placed the box on the coffee table, then padded to the kitchen for two plates. Ethan’s eyes never left her, his gaze leaving a pleasantly warm trail down her back. She turned her head to wink at him, causing his cheeks to take on a slightly pink color.

“To answer your question, I’m hungry. My reaction had nothing to do with pizza.” His voice wavered slightly when he tried to deny his real intentions.

“Sure, you liar.” She giggled, kissing his cheek playfully, then reaching for the first slice hastily. The steam was practically pouring out of the box, the temperature hot enough to cause some damage.

“You’re going to burn your fingers.” Ethan pointed out, taking a slice himself, carefully and with precision. She burst out laughing, shaking her head at him before she took a bite. “And now you’re going to burn your mouth too.”

She took a moment to chew and swallow the food before throwing him a mocking look, throwing her hair behind her shoulder with her wrist, careful not to get grease on her blonde strands. “Bold of you to assume that my fingers and mouth are not used to the temperature. I’m a student, I basically survive on stuff like this. I’m a pro at handling hot things like that at this point.”

A smirk grew on his lips, taking over all his features, his eyes sparking brightly. He leaned forwards, tucking a curl, that fell onto her forehead, behind her ear, then taking her face in his hands and bringing her closer to him. “Handling hot things, you say. Should I be jealous?”

“You’re the hottest one, Doctor Ramsey.” Her giggle filled his mind, sending a pleasant shiver down his spine. When he closed his eyes, he could see her, very clearly, with brilliant eyes and a wide smile that could light up the world.

“God, you’re so beautiful.” His voice was low and tender when he whispered against her lips. This close to her, he felt her body shaking in a silent laugh that slowly but surely took over her entire frame. “Am I amusing you?”

“No, it’s just that… you’re not even looking at me, how can you know if I’m beautiful?”

“I don’t need to look at you to see you. You’re here.” He took her hand, pressing a slow kiss to her wrist, then placed it on the side of his head. “And here.” He moved her hand over the place where his heart was. “It’s been that way for a while now.”

Claire looked at him for a long while, trying to decipher what his eyes hid. They were so close that it would only take one small move and their lips would meet. Another move, a slightly bigger one, and she could kiss the place where her hand currently was. A much more meaningful move. The right move. Looking into his eyes for as long as their bodies allowed them to, she slowly leaned forward, taking her hand away and pressing her lips to the fabric of his shirt, feeling the warmth of his body beneath the material. Breathing in the barely-there scent of his cologne, almost gone after a whole day at work, she allowed herself a moment of tranquility before leaning back, pressing their lips together in a single, heart stopping kiss. Upon leaning away from her, he could see her grinning, looking just a bit too suspiciously malicious.

“What’s on your mind?”

“Remember what I asked you before the food came in?” she asked, sitting more comfortably by his side, running her fingers up and down his arm like she was trying to seduce him. He shook his head sternly.

“Hell no, we’re not playing Monopoly.”

“Ethan.”

“I mean it, Claire, I’m not playing any stupid game.” He shook his head again, shifting away from her as she came a bit closer to him.

“Play Monopoly with me.”

“No.”

“Play Monopoly with me.” she repeated herself, inching closer and closer to him, but he was still reluctant.

“No.”

“Ethan.” Muttering his name, she threw her leg over his thighs, straddling him as she wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing the two of them close again. “Play Monopoly with me.”

He tried not to bend under her intense stare, tried to resist her, tried not to let her get her way, but if he learned anything about himself while being in a relationship with her, it was the fact that he found it ridiculously hard to say ‘no’ to her. “…damn it. Fine.”

Ethan, at that precise moment, decided, that there was no way that he wasn’t under some sort of a spell of hers. She grinned like a child, then clapped her hands like a child, and then practically skipped off to get the game, like a child, and the most bizarre thing was, there was not even a sliver of annoyance in his whole being. He just… accepted her as she was, for all that she was, and from the way she looked at him, he had a feeling she did the same for him.

While she set up the game, he cleaned up after their dinner and got them both a glass of wine. Sitting on the blanket opposite her, the board between them, he wondered for the last time if there was any chance for him to get out of this. One look from her and he already got his answer.

“Are we playing for something?” she asked, taking a sip of wine, looking at him from beneath her lashes, smiling into her glass.

“Got anything on your mind?”

“Nothing really.”

“You’re lying.” He called her out on it, the corners of his lips going up slightly. “What do you want?”

“… If I win, you take a few of those leave days you hog so preciously and get away from town with me.” it almost seemed as though she was embarrassed to be asking him to ditch his job and go somewhere with her. There was no way for her to know how much he liked that idea. He nodded, deep in thought as he tried to come up for something for himself in the case of him winning.

“If I win… you spend four nights a week here instead of two.”

Claire started staying the night a few months ago, and while at first it was occasional, it has become some sort of a habit for them, and now they had an agreement for her to stay with him two nights every week.

“Deal.” They shook on it and started the game.

As usually in any game of Monopoly, the beginnings were slow. Ethan preferred chess, if only for the sole reason of the game not taking forever to pick up speed and not taking eternity to finish. Claire didn’t mind the amount of time it took to play, and she wouldn’t say that Monopoly is her favorite game, but it gave her the perfect opportunity to see how Ethan would handle it, it was just too good of a chance to pass up on.

Truth be told, she kind of expected him to be excellent at it, and he really was. It definitely had something to do with him being smart about his decisions, and combined with just a bit of luck, it resulted in him buying out almost all of the most expensive properties.

“Two houses on the second navy spot.” He said slowly, throwing a pile of fake bills onto the middle of the board for her to put in the bank. She huffed, annoyed, put away the money and handed him two green blocks. Their hands brushed against one another, just enough for the familiar spark to pass through them.

Two hours, many fake transactions and a lot of houses and hotels later, Claire was basically bankrupt. On the edge of either losing or giving up, all it took for Ethan to destroy her was for her to stop at one of his properties and she would be dead. As it turned out, game had different plans for the two of them, and when it was Ethan’s turn, her threw a 6, which resulted in him having another move after the first one. His first six steps landed him on one of the hotels Claire owned, which caused him to give her a rather prominent amount of money from his ridiculously enormous pile of fake cash.

“You do know how close to death you were, right?” he teased her, taking the dices into his hands to roll them again.

“Play the game, Ramsey.”

Another 6, another move for the Doctor. His eyes widened as he saw his hand stop at another red hotel of Claire’s. She bit her lip, trying not to burst out laughing.

“This one is going to cost you.” she mused, showing him the amount on the card. He grumbled but gave her the money without a single word. She placed the dices into his open hands, watching the situation with a shallow breath. As the final number of spaces he’d have to move got revealed, she gave up trying and started laughing. Ethan looked at the dices incredulously, then at Claire, back at the board and at Claire again.

“I told you that game is stupid.” He threw the words out of his mouth, pushing himself away from the board. Claire leaned towards him but he leaned back.

“I didn’t know you were such a sore loser.” She taunted him, folding her arms across her chest with a smirk.

“I’m not! It’s just ridiculous! How is it that I’m winning, winning, calculating my every move, and then three rolls of dice and I’m out like light!” he exclaimed in anger, throwing the dice into the box and missing.

The final part of the game began: the argument. It seemed like there was no way to avoid it, as there always was a losing party. Claire tried to reason with him, but he was riled up, which in turn got her mad, and after a few minutes they were having a full argument over something so trivial as Monopoly.

“Why are you so insistent on not letting it go? It’s just a game!”

“Because I love you, god damnit!” he exclaimed, looking straight into her eyes. He didn’t plan on telling her how he felt like that, even though she may have already been suspecting that. Her green eyes sparked in surprise, silence falling over them, filling the room to the brim.

“You… love me?” she managed to whisper, her cheeks flushing furiously.

“Of course I do.” His voice broke a little, pouring all that he had, all that he was, into his words, his actions.

She nodded, looking at him intensely, then reached forward and yanked the board to the side, spilling the money, the houses and hotels, the cards and pawns all over the floor. Before he could protest, she crawled towards him, straddling him once again, taking his face in her hands. Her index fingers brushed against the undersides of his ears, using another point of contact to haul him onto her as their lips met in a fervent kiss that stole the breath from his lungs. His hands traced their path up her thighs, along the lines of her hips and waist before settling on the shoulder blades, pressing her body into his so they aligned.

Claire tilted back slightly, taking him with her, and he followed her suit, covering her body with his, retracing his hands’ movements down her sides, gripping the underside of her knee, keeping himself above her with his other arm. Her fingers tangled into the locks on the back of his head, hanging onto them like her very existence depended on it as he devoured her neck with kisses and soft bites, skimming his teeth along the line formed by her collarbones, prominently visible in the low lights of his living room. A breathless moan escaped her lips, echoing in the empty space of his apartment, carried along the sounds of his heavy breathing, one of many indications of how much of an influence she had on him.

She guided him back to her lips, kissing him slowly, gently, lovingly. Almost sweetly. He smiled into the kiss before breaking it, allowing them both to catch a breath. His arms wrapped tightly around her as he pulled her onto him, laying them both down on the floor. Claire leaned up on her elbow to make their eyes meet.

“I love you too.” She whispered, falling back into his embrace, nuzzling her nose against his chest as he ran his fingers through her hair. She could feel him take a relieved breath, his muscles losing the tension that was there just mere seconds ago, instead leaving him with a blissful peace.

“You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that.” He looked down at her, bringing her close to him again, looking at her lips with something slightly darker in them.

“I think I do.” She grinned, pressing their lips together for a moment before falling into his embrace once more. Her fingers wandered the planes of his chest, tracing intricate patterns with her fingertips as they talked, late into the night.

“You know, the game never got a clear winner.” She said, turning her head upwards to look at him. “I can stay four nights here if you want.”

“And I will take you away from here for a few days. Sounds like exactly something we need. Besides, that much time with you and your full attention? What else could I ask for?” he looked at the ceiling as he spoke, then looked down at her, grinning sheepishly. She pressed a kiss to his chest, shaking her head at his words.

The calmness around them was like a sleeping potion, pulling them away from the state of conscience and away from the world they lived in, straight into the land of dreams. Right before they fell asleep, she asked with humor in her voice.

“So… you didn’t want to admit defeat because you love me? Is that a rule?”

“Don’t count on it.”

#ethan ramsey #open heart #choices #playchoices #choices fanfiction #choices stories you play #open heart fanfiction #playchoices open heart #open heart fanfic #fic #fanfiction #fluff #love #mc x ethan #ethan x mc #dr. ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #mc x ethan ramsey #ethan

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noodlecupcakeswritings · 4 years

Text

A Test of Faith - Chapter 2 (A Priest AU) Kylo RenxOC)

Father Ren has been tasked with looking after the new arrival Sister Cora. Is it lust in the air or a test from God?

Look this fic is pure fucking depraved priest kink porn. There is no plot. Just porn. I have no excuse. And sorry for starting yet another fic when I already have ongoing ones…but I couldn’t get this idea out of my head. Thanks to @ohiobluetip for inspiring this one, she’s a babe and you should check out her work.

Please leave comments, kudos and reblogs if you like it. Let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist.

Warnings: Innocence kink, Injury, Blood, Major innocence kink, Dub Con, Vaginal fingering, First orgasms, Sexual thoughts, Religious imagery, Kylo abusing his power

Chapter 2

Cora Ardmore

My first day had gone well, the other sisters and fathers had welcomed with me with open arms and I was already starting to see this place as home. Father Ren was the most welcoming and the most kind. I could see us striking up a good friendship. And there was no denying how handsome he was, not that I liked to think about it too often. Those thoughts would lead to impure ones, sinful ones. And I was not here to pursue what was likely a silly little crush. These feelings would pass. And to be sure of that I would pray a little harder each day.

Today was going well, the children I was teaching were all so kind-hearted and accepting. They were all currently out in the front of the church yard, playing with each other. I watched from the doorway, making sure no bickering started. It was a warm day, warm enough that I wish we had slightly thinner uniforms to wear. So long as I wasn’t in the direct sun the heat was bearable. “Hows your first day going, sister?” Came Ren’s voice. Turning on my heel in the direction of his voice, I found him in the shade of the abbey almost as if he had been…lurking. “It's going well, thank you, father,” I smiled. “Good. The children haven’t been any trouble?”

“Not at all. And how's your day going, father?” Before he had a chance to respond there was a thud before one of the children began to wail. I rushed over, scooping up the small boy and sitting him in my lap. After examining him for any wounds I found two in total, a scraped knee and elbow. “Father Ren would you go to my classroom and fetch me the first aid kit, please?” I asked. Nodding, he quickly headed in that direction. In the meantime I stroked the child’s hair and offered comfort. Father Ren was back in no time at all, opening the box on the ground. As he passed me an antiseptic wipe our fingers brushed against each other’s.

Something as simple as his touch brought heat to my cheeks. But not only my cheeks, my belly…between my legs. I’d never felt anything like it before. I met his gaze feeling something between us, something that made time stand still. It was like that feeling in the air before lightning strikes. Like something was about to happen or should happen. Perhaps I was wishing something would happen. My heart was beating so loud I thought that perhaps everyone else would be able to hear it. For the first time I realised just how large his hands were, how long his fingers were. So many of parts of my body would fit perfectly in his grasp. My wrists, my neck…my breasts.

Another pained hiccup from the boy on my lap brought me out of my sinful thoughts. I took the packet from Father Ren and tore it open. Pre Warning the child beforehand I gently cleaned his cuts and scrapes. Of course the child fussed no matter how gentle I was. Father Ren handed me a couple of plasters that I used to cover the boy’s wounds. The boy remained on my lap, seeking comfort from me until he was ready to re-join his friends and play. Now it was just the two of us and judging by the way Father Ren was looking at me he had felt that spark too.

Quickly I packed the first aid kit away and hurried back inside. I feared what might happen if I looked into those deep hazel eyes again, what I might see. I barricaded myself in the safety of my classroom and exhaled deeply. All these thoughts and feelings were so foreign, all so sinful. Perhaps I hadn't been praying enough, perhaps I had done something to anger the lord and this was my punishment. A confessional would be the best way to repent any and all sins.

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Over the course of the week the ache between my legs had only worsened to the point that it was becoming unbearable. Something had to be done. And Father Ren would be the perfect person to help me, he’d be so helpful throughout the week and had offered further help should I need it. Knocking on his office door, I waited to be called in. I closed the door behind me and turned to find him sat at his desk. “Sister, is there something I can help you with?” He asked, “you look troubled.” “I am Father. I’ve been having such sinful thoughts and feelings. And theres been this ache that has only grown.” “I see. And where is this ache?”

Swallowing hard and steeling my nerves I finally answered, “between my legs, Father.” There was a pause from him, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. The longer he was silent the more I thought I was going to be in serious trouble. “And have you done anything to try and relieve it, Sister?” He finally asked. “No Father,” I hung my head in shame, “I…I don’t know how.” “There's nothing to be ashamed off, this ache you speak of is quite natural.” “It is?” “Yes. Perhaps I could…guide you through it.” Relief filled me; I should have come to him sooner instead of suffering in silence.

“Thank you, Father. I tried praying in the hopes it would go away but perhaps God didn’t hear me,” I explained. “Or perhaps this is how he answers your prayers. Perhaps I am to be your salvation.” God did work in mysterious ways. “Please tell me what to do Father?” I practically pleaded. He motioned to the spare seat opposite his own. Once I was seated there was another moment of silence as if he was pondering his next instruction. His deep, intense gaze met my own. “Lift up your skirt,” he instructed.

No, that couldn’t be right. Exposing myself to him? I couldn’t. It would be wrong. I could be thrown out of the church; I could lose my veil. Everything I had worked so hard for could be gone. He could clearly sense my inner turmoil as she took on a more sympathetic approach. “Sister, I want to help you. This will just be between us. Its alright,” He reassured. Well if the lord had sent him to help me, I would be a fool to say no. I swallowed my fear and hesitantly lifted up my skirt, resting the black material on my knees. I avoided his hard, intense gaze. I felt shameful. “Further sister, I need to see the problem in order to give you the best help,” he continued. There was no judgement in his tone, no disgust. It gave me a shred of confidence as I lifted my skirt higher for him, pushing it out of the way so it couldn’t obscure his view.

I felt completely exposed. Well I almost was. Whilst his tone of voice had put me more at ease, his gaze did not. It was predatory, almost shark like. Like I was something to be devoured. “Take your panties off, Sister,” he instructed. My cheeks were practically burning red hot by now, the flush spreading across my chest and shoulders. I closed my eyes, finding it easier if I didn’t have to look. With slightly shaky hands I slid the simple white cotton panties down my legs, leaving them on the floor beside my chair. “Sister it's alright. You don’t need to be ashamed. This is all natural,” Ren spoke calmly. “It is?” I asked. “Of course. God created us in his image, if it were a sin why would God allow us these simple pleasures?”

I suppose he had a point. I waited for my next instruction, doing my best to get a lid on my nerves. “Spread your legs for me Sister, let me see your ache,” Ren directed. Biting at my bottom lip nervously, I slowly opened my legs for him. I expected this would be the thing to disgust him but instead he just looked…hungry. That tension was back, Ren was doing all he could to hold himself back. From doing what? I didn’t know. But I couldn’t help but glance down at his hands, wishing they were on me. A part of me wish he’d give in and touch me. “You mentioned you didn’t know how to relieve your ache, Sister? Does that mean you’ve never touched yourself?” He asked. “Never, Father.”

“I see.” Ren got to his feet, coming around to my side of the desk where he leant against it. Now he was closer, he could reach out and touch me if he wanted. That voice of doubt in the back of my mind was suddenly coming through loud and clear. It was telling me to run, to not be in this room alone with him any longer. I swallowed hard and covered myself with my skirt before getting to my feet. “I’m sorry Father, I can’t,” I excused myself. As I turned to leave, he reached out and wrapped his large hand around my wrist. The cold fingers of fear gripped my heart like a vice, I was like a deer caught in a trap. “You need to let go of your fear, Sister,” he spoke. “Please let go of me, Father.”

I turned to try and pry his hand from my wrist, instead it just gave him an advantage. He used his free hand to cover my mouth as he shoved me back into the nearest wall, pinning me between him and the brick. It would useless to scream. Tears filled my eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment. Ren gently stroked across my cheek as if too soothe me, to comfort me. It did nothing of the sort, tears now rolling down my cheeks. “Don’t be afraid, Sister. I won’t hurt you, I told you I want to help you and I will. Besides you came to me, you wanted this.” After releasing his grip on my wrist, his hand vanished up my skirt. I expected to be disgusted by his touch, for it make my skin crawl. Instead it felt divine, which filled my head with only more doubt. Now sure that I wasn’t going to scream, he removed the hand over my mouth.

His fingers rubbed a part of me that made me gasp, my knees threatening to buckle at any second. I felt…relief as he continued rubbing slow circles into me. The ache between my legs had been replaced with pleasure. It felt so good, I wanted more. “Please, Father,” I breathed. “What is it Sister, what do you need?” “M-more, Father. I need more. Please.” “That’s it, Sister, give into it. Feel it, feel my fingers soothe your ache.” Moaning softly, I let him take me apart with only his fingers. I’d wanted his hands on me, now I finally had them. And they were working wonders.

“Your so wet, Sister,” he marvelled. “I-is that a bad thing, Father?” I was so unfamiliar with my own bodily functions; I had no idea what was right and wrong anymore. “No, Sister,” he answered, “your doing so well.” His praise reassured that seed of doubt, soothed it and shoved it back down where I would soon forget about it. Ren watched me with complete and utter fascination as he continued to make me moan and writhe against his fingers. His circles got a little faster as he applied more pressure. My eyelids fluttered as I let out another moan. The pressure was almost perfect. Almost…heavenly.

Ren slipped one finger lower through my slick before easing it inside me. I gasped at the slight stretching sensation; it wasn’t a bad one, but it was a foreign one. “Is that good, Sister?” He asked. “Y-yes, Father.” Once his finger was buried deep inside of me, he began to pull it back out before pushing it back in again. He started a gentle rhythm, his thumb now rubbing circles into the sensitive spot, the part that had made me moan the loudest. Something felt like it was building deep in the pit of my stomach, something hot and tight. I clung to him, unsure of this new feeling. “It’s alright, Sister. This is how we’ll get rid of the ache. Let it happen,” he comforted. His finger curled against a spot inside me that had me coming apart at the seams for him.

It felt like something snapped inside of me before intense pleasure filled every part of my being. I gasped at the feeling, soft moans and whimpers falling from my lips. “Oh, Father,” I moaned. I didn’t want the feeling to end, I’d never felt that good. I wanted to feel like that all the time. Eventually Ren stopped, pulling his hand from under my skirt. The red haze of lust faded away, replaced with shock and horror at what we had done. My eyes widened as I watched Ren suck his fingers clean. He made a hungry, satisfied sound as if I tasted good. I felt like I was going to throw up. My skirt fell back into place and I forced myself out of his office. I ran as quick as my legs could carry me to my quarters. Once in the safety of my room I threw myself to my knees before the cross hanging on the wall. God please have mercy on my soul.

Taglist: @sweetfictionalworld, @sweetsec-93, @cltex84, @jana-banana-fana, @dark-night-sky-99, @warriorqueen1991, @blackredrose27, @jynzandtonic, @ellelaconiwrites. @bestblondebuddy

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star-spangled-eyes · 4 years

Text

Winner Take All: Part 6: The Counter

This alternate universe fan fiction uses characters created and owned by Pixelberry Studios. Character names, descriptions and likenesses are owned by Pixelberry Studios. The MC, Bragnae Bennett, and story is created and owned by this author.

Book: The Royal Romance (Alternate Universe)

Alternate Universe Theme: Senior Year of College for Drake, Leo, Bragnae and Madeleine in the United States

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC / Leo Reese x MC (Bragnae Bennett – *pronounced Brawn-yah)

Warnings for this series: NSFW, Adult content, suggestive and strong language, sex

Series Description: Bragnae Bennett sought adventure when she first went off to college. Now, navigating through her senior year, she finds herself befriending two gorgeous guys, Drake Walker and Leo Reese, who engage in a seemingly innocent bet with her during a game of pool that leads to a surprising threesome.

Their intimate evening prompts deeper feelings than they all expected to arise, and Bragnae is suddenly swept up in both of their charms, unique to each man himself. Through the pressures of college, work and maintaining a social life, which man will prevail and win Bragnae's heart?

Master List

A/N: I just wanted to let all my readers know how much I appreciate you! Thank you so much for taking the time to read this little series of mine. If I don’t get a chance to respond to your comments and reblogs, please know that I’m still reading and loving them! Life is pretty busy on my end, so sometimes I don’t always have the opportunity, but I DO appreciate it. I just wanted you to know. So, thank you. Muah! 💋

Warnings for this chapter: NSFW, Adult content, suggestive and strong language, sexual content

Word Count for this chapter: 5957 (Oops… okay, this time… Drake made me do it!)

Setting for this chapter: Drake takes Bragnae out to dinner to explain things.

Permatags: @burnsoslow @cora-nova @dcbbw @thorfosterlove @emceesynonymroll @edgiestwinter @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @msjr0119 @notoriouscs @drakewalker04 @pedudley @desiree-0816 @choices-lurker @kingliam2019 @loveellamae @drakexnadira @flutistbyday2020 @indiana-jr @moonlightgem7

Series Tags: @yukinagato2012 @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @nomadics-stuff @ravenpuff02 @texaskitten30 @themadhatter1029 @randomfandomteacher @queenjilian @princessleac1 @seriouslybadchoices

Part 6: The Counter

It had just rained, so the streets were full of puddles as Bragnae made her way over to Mario’s, the Italian restaurant Drake had suggested. She chose to meet him there to avoid replicating what happened with Leo. She wanted to find her own way there and back. Not that she’d be sleeping with Drake tonight, but she didn’t want to be reliant on a man to get her home if things didn’t pan out.

She moved swiftly in her skinny jeans and crimson blouse, and avoided a giant puddle as to save her stilettos from getting drenched. A few patrons walked out of restaurant avoiding the awning over the door that dripped with excess rain water.

As she walked inside, Drake was standing there. He turned to offer her a bright smile. “Hi, Bragnae.”

A sudden chill shot down her spine as he said her name. She wasn’t ‘babe’ or ‘sweetheart’, or any other nickname that Leo liked to use. She was just herself. And she liked that Drake used her name. It meant more.

“Hi, Drake.” She couldn’t help the smile she gave him in return. He looked incredibly handsome with dark jeans and a black polo with the logo of his hockey team embroidered on it. Drake wasn’t the type to get all dressed up, but he was resourceful and could pull off any outfit he could find.

“You look nice,” he told her before planting a sweet kiss on her cheek.

“Thank you,” she blushed a little. “So do you.”

“Our table is ready.” Drake allowed the hostess to seat them, but stayed near Bragnae on the way over. “I requested a round booth. I hope that’s okay.”

She looked to the corner of the room where they were headed, and saw a big red padded booth in the shape of a half circle. They’d be sitting close, and she couldn’t say that she minded. With whatever Drake had to say, he wanted her to be near him when he said it. It was intimate to say the least.

The hostess gave them both menus and allowed them to settle in. Drake slid in next to Bragnae with about three inches between them. She could smell his woodsy cologne, and it was both comforting and ruggedly sensual. They quickly decided on their meals and made small talk until the waitress came back to take their order.

Drake took a sip of the whiskey the waitress had brought him, getting comfortable in the booth. He shifted slightly to face her. “So, thanks again for letting me take you out tonight. I really wanted to explain more of why I wanted to take things slow with you.”

Bragnae drank the red wine from her stemmed glass as he spoke. “I must admit, I’m quite curious as to your definition of slow considering what we’ve already done.” She gave him a cheeky smile.

Drake chuckled. “I know. It must seem ridiculous to you, but there is a legitimate reason behind it.” He paused to take her in. “I told you that I liked you even before the night of the bet. If I would have acted sooner, we never would have had that threesome with Leo. I would have taken you out like I am now, we would have dated and hopefully gotten along enough that you’d want to be in a relationship with me.”

He inhaled a breath before taking another drink. “I don’t like to share, Bragnae. Women, I mean. The truth is, what I wanted to tell you last Friday was that I want to be with you. Not just for sex, but for much more – a deep, meaningful connection. Hell, we’ve been friends for the better part of a year now. We’ve gotten to know each other on a casual level, and now we have a physical bond as well.”

His hand covered hers in her lap. “I want it all. The friendship, the sex, the relationship. You are an amazing person. Funny. Smart. Sexy. I love hanging out with you, and I think about you more than you know.”

Drake’s words floored her. Everything he was offering her, she wanted. A feeling of regret washed over her that they hadn’t had the opportunity to discuss this on Friday before she kicked him out. If she had allowed him to stay, maybe she wouldn’t have gone out with Leo the next night. Maybe she wouldn’t have made the mistake of liking him more than she had only to get her heart broken.

“I thought I might have to compete with Leo for you. He seemed to be into you as well. If I could ask… is he trying to date you, too?”

She thought about her answer. “No.” She wasn’t lying – Leo wasn’t actively trying to date her, but she also wasn’t ready to tell him of her mistake. Bragnae wasn’t over that hurt yet, plus it wasn’t as if she and Drake were in an exclusive relationship when she slept with Leo. She knew Drake deserved to know at some point, but that was her recent past to share when she was ready.

Drake let out a relieved laugh. “That’s good,” he said, scooting closer. “I want to be with you, and see where things go. And if it feels right, then maybe we’d move forward together.” He brushed a strand of hair away from her face as he stroked her cheek. “I just wanted to make sure you knew that all of this means more to me than just being physical. Just because we started out with a threesome, doesn’t mean I see you as only a girl who does that.” He swallowed, wetting his lips. His eyes imploring her to understand his careful words. “I care about you, Bragnae.”

Wow. He was being honest and direct, and that was refreshing. “I didn’t think you wanted all of that.” She was stunned, still trying to wrap her mind around his professed feelings.

“That’s why I wanted to be clear about this because up until now, you might have thought that I only wanted to get into your pants. And that wasn’t true at all.” He leaned in a bit, staring deeply into her eyes. His hand still cupping her cheek.

Drake was always someone Bragnae could see herself with. He was kind, motivated, and down to earth. So many days had passed since they met that she wanted him to end the suspense and ask her out. So many times she wanted to feel his lips against hers. And when she finally did… when he held her in his big, strong arms, filling her up with undeniable pleasure, she crashed hard into him emotionally as well as physically.

“That’s what I’ve always wanted. Everything you just said.” She felt herself becoming gradually closer to him. Their faces mere inches apart.

He smiled. “Bragnae, I’d consider myself a lucky man if you’d let me be the one to give you what you wanted.” His eyes dropped to her lips as he whispered. “Will you let me do that?”

He had captivated her in every sense. His words surrounded her like a warm, cozy blanket. His gentle touch soothed her aching heart. His incredible scent intoxicated her. She knew then there were no games being played. He was genuine. He wanted her in every way, and she knew she couldn’t deny him.

Bragnae nodded. Her eyes locked on his mouth as he pulled her into a tender kiss. She sank into his soft lips, feeling the warmth and veracity of his affectionate gesture. Drake had kept a consistent dreamy pace that made the world seem to disappear around them. That was, until she heard the sound of plates being set on their table. They broke apart immediately. Feeling a bit embarrassed, Bragnae avoided eye contact with the waitress, smiling down at the table instead. Drake was an amazing kisser, and she couldn’t wait to experience that again.

“Enjoy your meal,” the waitress said before leaving them.

“Thank you,” Drake replied. He looked over at Bragnae, bringing her hand to his lips with a sweet kiss. He smiled and gave her a wink. She blushed as she straightened in her seat to begin eating.

After they finished eating and paying for their meal, Drake took Bragnae’s hand in his and walked out of the restaurant.

“Where’d you park?” He asked.

“Oh, my car’s being a little sketchy right now, so I just grabbed an Uber.”

“My truck is just down the street. Mind if I give you a lift back home?”

She grinned. “Not at all. Thank you.”

After a short walk, Drake opened the passenger door to his truck waiting for her to get into the cab before closing the door. Her heart swelled at his chivalry. This is what being treated with respect feels like. She was jubilant and filled with resonating peace. Walking over to the driver’s side, Drake climbed into the vehicle and started the engine.

As they started the short drive back to her apartment, he reached over to entwine his fingers with hers again.

“I can take a look at your car sometime, if you want,” he told her.

She loved the feeling of their hands combined. Reveled in it even. “I didn’t know you were a mechanic,” she teased.

He chuckled lightly. “I’m not, but I have some skills in that area. I’m pretty good with my hands.” He squeezed hers for emphasis.

She glanced at him, biting her lower lip. “Good to know.” Turning back to look at the street ahead, she smiled. The thought of his hands working magic on her body was thrilling. Bragnae could feel him looking at her, which made her blush even more.

Soon, they arrived at her place. He opened her door again, and she thanked him. They walked hand in hand up to her apartment, when Bragnae turned her back to the door to face him. She wanted to invite him in, but it was a school night, and she intended to not rush them along. Even though opposing thoughts were currently consuming her mind.

“I had a nice time tonight, Drake. Thank you for inviting me out.”

He casually moved in closer, not quite touching her. “Me too. I’m really looking forward to spending more time with you this way.”

The heat in his eyes mixed with sincerity drew her in immediately. Looping her arms around his neck, she stood on her toes to meet him with an eager kiss – the one she wanted to continue since dinner. His hands found her hips and migrated to the small of her back as he gradually pushed her against the door. She moaned in approval as Drake deepened the kiss by parting her lips with his tongue. Warmth started to build between her legs when his mouth moved more ardently with hers.

Lost in the moment, Bragnae suddenly felt the support against her back give way. She stumbled backwards a bit, but Drake caught her before she fell.

“Looks like the date went well,” Madeleine said from within the apartment.

Breathing heavily from being startled, Bragnae looked over her shoulder at her friend who was standing with a hand on her hip and a teasing smirk on her face.

“It was going well until you opened the door.” Half mocking, half serious, she turned back to Drake who just smiled. “I better call it a night.”

He nodded. “Okay. We should do something this weekend though. You can come over to my place. Maybe we can finish that movie.” He flashed a devilish grin.

“I’d like that.” Blatantly aware that Madeleine was still standing there watching them, she wasn’t sure if Drake wanted her to kiss him or not. Luckily he decided that for her by placing a sweet but brief kiss on her lips.

“I’ll call you. Goodnight ladies.”

Bragnae watched him walk down the sidewalk to his truck before heading inside.

“I take it he’s back in your good graces?” Madeleine asked.

Leaning back against the closed door with a dreamy smile on her face, she barely replied. “He sure is.”

It worked out that Bragnae was given Sunday night off from work. In an effort to spend more time with Drake without worrying about homework that was due by Monday, she got it finished ahead of time. She was due at his place by three o’clock. Excited to be embarking on a new adventure for herself, she couldn’t ignore the nervous feeling she had on her way over to his apartment. His shared apartment…with Leo.

It had been a full week, and she still hadn’t heard from him. Not that she expected to. What Madeleine said about him made sense even though she refused to believe it at first. She felt a connection between them – more than the physical. There was definitely something more. She was still confused, and admittedly still hurt by his actions, but she had to move on from that. It would be tough not to have the closure she desired, but she had no choice.

Bragnae hoped Leo wouldn’t be around, so she could relax and avoid the awkwardness that would certainly be present between them if they came face to face.

She had been to their place before a few times to hang out. It was smaller than hers and Maddie’s, and set up like a bachelor pad. Beer was always stocked in the fridge, paper plates and plastic utensils were used instead of real ones, and there was always some sort of clothing strewn about. She noticed Leo was more so the messy one. Drake wasn’t a clean freak, but he always seemed to have his things in order.

She knocked on the door, and soon Drake answered it.

“Hey, Bennett.” He smiled. “Come on in.”

As she stepped over the threshold, Drake pulled her into his arms and kissed her firmly. She leaned into him indulging in his lips. It was the sort of kiss that let her know he was happy to see her, and she loved that. When she pulled away, she looked up into his warm eyes feeling comfortable and content.

“Well, hello there.” She kissed him again.

“You want something to drink? Water? Beer?”

She giggled at his options. “Water is just fine. I have a feeling I’m going to need it if we keep kissing like that.”

“Water it is.” Smirking, he turned towards the kitchen. “I’ll grab this, and we can watch TV in my room.”

“Okay.” She walked further into his apartment, cautiously. She looked down the hallway and saw the door to Leo’s room was shut. He normally shut his door whether he was there or not, so she was still in the dark. She decided to wait there until Drake returned.

“Here you go,” he said, handing her the bottle of water. He had grabbed one for himself as well. Then, he led them to his bedroom.

Drake allowed her to step in first. It had a lot of gray tones. His royal purple hockey jersey was displayed over his desk chair, a hockey stick was propped up in the corner of his room, and his skates leaned against the door of his closet. He had a poster of The Rolling Stones on his wall, and another of Wayne Gretsky – ‘The Great One’ of professional hockey. Rock n’ Roll and hockey. Two of his favorite things. She liked that about him, plus enjoyed those things as well.

His queen sized bed was made, and it actually smelled good in his room. He hadn’t lit a candle or anything, but just his natural scent mixed with residual cologne collected in the air. It was comforting, much like it was when she had opportunities to nuzzle in close to him.

He sat down on the bed wearing a t-shirt with his hockey team logo on it, and athletic pants. She loved the casual look on him.

“Please join me,” he told her, waving his hand over his bed.

She removed her shoes and climbed towards the head of the bed where he was already propped up against the pillows with a remote in his hand. Bragnae settled in, leaving a few inches of space between them.

“So, you want to finish The Hangover, or find something else to watch?”

“We can finish the movie. It’s a good one.”

He pulled up Netflix on his 40 inch flat screen that was mounted on the wall, and navigated to the film. He fast forwarded it to the point where they had stopped it a week ago, and pressed play. Drake tossed the remote on the bed side table, and situated himself closer to Bragnae.

Their legs touched, which was already thrilling, but then he rested his hand on her thigh, folding his other arm behind his head. He was getting comfortable, so she decided she would too. Shifting a bit on her side, she curled up next to him, and leaned her head against his shoulder.

Even though they had once been far more intimate, for some reason now she felt a little awkward. She fidgeted with her hands, unsure of where to rest them before finally deciding to tuck them up against his side.

But then Drake shifted. “Here, let’s make this easier.” He moved to face her more with an arm behind her head and his other hand resting on her leg again. “Better?”

She smiled. “Yes. Thank you.”

They both turned to watch the movie, but after a minute or so Bragnae looked back at Drake. His side profile was just as stunning as his front. She admired his strong jaw line and longer brown hair that swept back casually, yet still looked like it was meant to be styled that way. She knew he didn’t fuss over his hair. He wasn’t the type of guy to care, but luckily for him his hair naturally looked good no matter what he did. Even when it was a sweaty mess when he took his helmet off after a hockey game, he still looked desirable. How was that fair?

He must have felt her gaze on him, so he turned to her again. “The movie is that way, Bennett,” he teased.

“Maybe I found something better than caught my attention.” A flirtatious grin appeared across her lips.

He gave her a heated look full of excitement. “Oh, so you want to add a little romance to this comedy, then?” He slid a hand to her side as he pressed his body against hers.

Bragnae scooted herself down a bit so she was laying flatter than before. “You could say that.” Cupping the back of his neck, she brought him down to her as they kissed through smiling lips. Her giggle instantly transformed into a moan when he readjusted to cover her body more with his. Their legs entwined. Their chests connected.

Drake’s fingers found the inch of bare skin between her waistband and shirt, and glided his calloused fingertips over her. His touch inspired goosebumps to prickle up throughout her body. And then, there was his tongue. Slow. Methodic. Sensual. He really did know how to use it in a way that made her melt.

She let her fingers dive into his chestnut locks before skimming over his impressive bicep. She squeezed his muscle, delighting in its firmness. Both of their breaths came fast as the passionate moment grew. After another moment, Drake slowed his kisses and pulled up.

He peered over her hungrily. “What do you want, Bragnae?”

She knew he was asking how far she wanted to go in that moment. Thankfully, he was letting her decide that today instead of halting them altogether. Although she ached for him to crawl inside her again, she didn’t want to rush things. She did that with Leo, and it didn’t turn out well. However, she figured she’d offer up a fun alternative.

“Show me what you can do with your hands, and then I’ll show you what I can do with mine.”

He looked at her another moment until the corners of his mouth curled up mischievously. “Okay. I can definitely work with that.” He bent down to capture her lips again. There was a renewed sense of anticipation now that they both knew the parameters.

Once they got back into the groove, Drake’s hand traveled beneath her shirt until he reached the curve of her breast. He massaged her as she exhaled whimpering moans. Her bra stood in his way, but it still felt nice to have him touch her there.

His hand gradually left her chest while he continued to adore her with his mouth. Her body trembled as his fingers dipped below the elastic of her pants, grazing over her mound until he located her clit. Even over her silky panties, she could feel every tantalizing circle he made around her sensitive parts. Her breath caught in her throat as he finally hit the position with his fingers that made her toes curl. He applied pressure and rubbed against her slowly at first.

Drake pulled up to watch her as he increased his speed. She already missed his lips, but now she was able to concentrate on the pleasure he was providing. The warmth was building fast. She clutched his arm, grabbing at the fabric of his shirt sleeve. Her breath quickened.

“Yes, right there,” she whispered desperately. Her eyes closed to help bring the moment closer. She bit her lip in anticipation, and then she found her release. Bragnae’s back arched, bringing her chin up and exposing her neck as she moaned satisfyingly.

Drake slowed his movements to help her ride out the wave, and then rested his hand against her heat as she grew silent. She exhaled shuddering breaths as she floated in the pleasure high he put her in. He bent down to brush his soft lips against her neck as she recovered from her orgasm.

When she relaxed her body again, she pulled him in for a tender kiss. His playful hand wasn’t finished yet, however. As they continued to kiss, he breached the top of her panty line, and sank his hand against her skin. She throbbed against him savoring the skin to skin contact. He had bypassed her swollen clit and instead circled her soaked entrance.

“I did tell you that I was good with my hands, didn’t I?” He asked confidently.

She exhaled a breathy giggle before focusing on his fingers again.

Drake groaned as he dipped his middle finger inside her. She lazily thrusted her hips to feel him more. After a few slow pumps, his finger dragged up to her clit again, using her own natural wetness as lubrication as he rubbed against her skin once more.

The sensitivity had lessened, so as he touched her now the residual pleasure from before pushed her closer to the edge. He had risen up again, letting his eyes rake over her body as he worked. She braced herself on his arm as her body writhed under his determined fondling. This time, the release unfolded rapidly, causing her head to jerk up as she reached the peak of the mountain.

Her cries this time were even louder than before – the blissful feeling was more intense as well. An involuntary smile came to her lips as she looked up at him.

“It’s such a turn on to watch you come,” he said with a smirk.

Feeling incredibly relaxed and satisfied, she giggled. “Well, thank you for making me do it twice. That was very generous of you.”

He slid his hand out of her panties and rested it on her hip. “I’ll make you come as often as you want me to. Seeing you enjoy that pleasure is worth any effort on my part.”

He had a way with words that made her swoon. She pulled him in for another kiss before gently pushing Drake to his back. She threw a leg over his, still on her side, running a hand against his solid chest. Desperate to see his chiseled physique again, she lifted his shirt to reveal his washboard abs.

“I love your muscles.” She outlined his abs with a single finger.

“That’s what working out and playing hockey will do to you.” His eyes followed her hand.

Bragnae peeked at the growing bulge beyond his waist. Grateful he was wearing pants that allowed her easy access, she let her hand slide teasingly slow until she reached his waistband. As she ran a finger beneath it and across his stomach, Drake’s abs flexed.

She locked her eyes with his and smiled before dipping below his pants and briefs to palm his smooth shaft that was hard and ready for her. She wrapped her delicate fingers around him watching his eyes grow darker and his mouth fall open as his breath hitched.

Bragnae pushed his pants down a bit, allowing his erection to spring up freely. He was long and thick – her fingers couldn’t quite reach around his circumference. And it was beautiful. His cock, as lengthy as it was, stood straight, and was perfectly shaped. She had heard stories from Maddie about some awful looking dicks, but the ones she had seen lately, both Leo and Drake’s, were breathtaking. Both by sight and by the way they felt inside her.

In an effort to get a better angle, Bragnae moved to straddle his thighs so she was perched right in front of his cock. She looked at Drake as she took ahold of him again, this time with both hands. His eyes flicked between hers and what she was doing.

With both hands wrapped around him, she began to slowly stroke his shaft up and then down. Drake let out a shuddering breath as she worked in a slight twist of her soft hands paying extra attention to the tip of him. Her long hair rested over one shoulder, falling in her face as she leaned in to increase her speed. She added a slight bounce of her body against his thighs to enhance the experience for him… and herself.

Judging by the tension in his legs, she could tell it felt good, but something inspired her to offer him more. She raised off his legs and scooted her body down a bit as she moved her face closer to his glorious cock. Her eyes locked with his and she saw excitement and desire, but most of all hope that she’d actually go forward on the path her head was taking.

She smiled before lowering her mouth around the tip of him. Still keeping an eye on his face, she watched as his head fell back and his eyes fluttered shut. She had to open her mouth extra wide to really take him in. Using her hands to help stroke him while her mouth and tongue focused on as much of his length as they could, she could hear him breathing heavier now.

“Fuck. You’re really good at that,” he moaned.

Appreciating the validation of her work, she became even more motivated to give him a good show. With her body in a Downward Dog position, her butt stood in the air while her head bobbed up and down. He completely filled her mouth. Her jaw was becoming tired, but she knew it wouldn’t last much longer. Drake had started to thrust his hips beneath her letting her know he was enjoying it.

“That’s it, Bragnae,” he panted. “I’m gonna come.”

Two seconds later, she felt the rush of his hot seed pouring into her mouth. She worked her lips around him until she felt the tension in his body dissipate. Taking every drop he gave her, she swallowed and wiped her mouth before sitting up to face him.

His head was back against the pillows, his eyes shut and the hint of a smile rested on his lips. “Jesus Christ. That felt amazing.” She grinned, tucking him back into his pants.

After another restful moment, his eyes found hers again. “No fair. I didn’t get to use my mouth and tongue.”

She shrugged with a playful smirk. “You gave me two. The least I could do was give you one really good one.”

“I’ll get you next time,” he said with a wink, sitting up to pull her into a crashing kiss. When she pulled away, a surprised expression highlighted her face. “What’s that look for?”

“I just didn’t think you’d want to kiss me after that.” Some of the guys she performed that on in the past had asked her to wash her mouth out first before they kissed again. It didn’t make her feel that great, but she kind of understood why. Although, it never bothered her when they’d want to kiss after reciprocating the effort.

“I’m not one of those assholes.” He stroked his thumb across her cheek. “Plus, there’s a reason why it’s called a job, Bragnae. It’s hard work, and I wanted you to know I appreciated it.”

Smiling, she nuzzled her face against his while he wrapped his arms around her. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I almost unhinged my jaw trying to fit you in.”

Drake laughed. “Well, it worked. It felt incredible, and it was so hot watching you do it.”

“Good.” Feeling pleased with herself and content in his arms, she shifted her head to reach his lips again. She loved the way he kissed so passionately. Even when it was slow and soft, she could feel how heartfelt it was.

“Now, I’m hungry. Want to order Chinese for dinner?”

“Hell yeah!” She excitedly hopped off of him and the bed after he gave her a playful smack on her bottom.

They left his room and went to the kitchen. Drake led her to a drawer that housed menus from various restaurants nearby. Once he retrieved the one he wanted, he splayed the menu over the counter and allowed her to step up to view it.

Bragnae leaned against the counter’s edge looking through the numerous options on the Chinese restaurant’s menu. Drake stood behind her, affectionately keeping her in place with both hands braced on the counter. He was certainly tall enough to look over her shoulder to read at the same time. She liked the feeling of him standing so close and pressing into her. It sent tingles down her spine.

“What sounds good?” He asked, pulling her hair to one side, and laying gentle kisses on her exposed neck.

Her eyes fluttered a bit, and her knees grew weak, but despite the distraction, she steadied herself. “Fried rice is always a good choice.”

“Yeah?” He began to nip at her neck. “With chicken?”

“Mmhmm,” she replied lazily as he kissed the crevice between her neck and jaw.

“What else?”

Her breath quickened. She was enjoying the sensuous movement of his mouth against her skin too much to concentrate on the conversation. Overcome with the urge to kiss him, she spun around and seized his lips. Drake propped her up on the counter, and stood between her widened legs as they kissed more fervently.

“Hey, I got us more beer,” Leo spoke loudly into the apartment as he rounded the corner to the kitchen. “Oh, sorry, bro. I didn’t realize…” his voice trailed off.

Startled by the sound of his voice, Bragnae broke their kiss, and looked behind her to see Leo standing on the other side of the counter. Drake chuckled, but humor was the last thing on her mind. She slid off the counter and faced him. Drake stood behind her again like he did before.

Leo looked stunned. “Bragnae… hi.” It took a long moment before he finally peeled his eyes away from her and landed on Drake instead. “So, are you two a thing, now?” He watched carefully and waited for a response while slowly removing a beer from the case he had just placed on the counter.

Drake squeezed Bragnae’s arm prompting her to look up at him. He smiled and turned back to Leo. “Yeah, I’d say so. A new thing.”

Turning her attention back to Leo, she noticed the muscle in his jaw twitch at Drake’s reply.

Ringing came from Drake’s pocket suddenly, so he retrieved his phone. “It’s my coach. I’ve gotta take this.” He walked off towards the living room leaving Bragnae and Leo to continue staring each other down in the kitchen.

Leo twisted off the cap to the beer in his hand, and took a drink. There was something different in his eyes today compared to the last time she saw him. A week ago, he was avoidant, uncaring and somewhat callous. Now, she saw regret and maybe a little jealousy in his eyes.

Seeing him now made it hurt all over again. She didn’t get the closure she needed from him since he was the one who decided to abruptly end whatever it was that they had without her consent or acceptance. But not wanting him to see that, she decided to take control of the conversation.

“We were about to order Chinese. Do you want some?” Her eyes never left his.

He stood there in contemplative silence for another moment. “No, thanks.” Leo brought the case of beer over to the fridge. After closing the door, he hesitated and opened it again to grab two more beers. “I’m just going to hang out in my room.”

Without another look, he headed off down the hallway to his room, and shut the door behind him. Bragnae fumed inside. He was the one who decided not to hang out with her or call her anymore. So, why the hell was he being so standoffish? What right did he have to still be this self-important? He couldn’t even make small talk with her without running off like the immature little boy that he was.

With her starting to date Drake, she knew this wouldn’t be the last time she’d hang out in their apartment. And Leo would just have to get used to that. She would too, if she were being honest. They were friends before all of this, and now he ruined it. Standing with her back against the counter, she crossed her arms over her chest as she waited for Drake to be done with his phone call.

“Sorry, Bragnae. That was my hockey coach.” Drake set his phone down on the counter, and pulled her in for a sweet kiss, which lifted the raincloud that came in with Leo.

“What did he have to say?”

“He wants me to go to this hockey camp to get ready for the season. Its two weeks long, and about two hours from here.”

“Oh,” she replied. She was disappointed he’d have to be away so soon after they started dating. “When do you have to leave?”

“This Friday after school.”

With the hockey season starting up next month anyway, she figured he’d be busier. “Well, that sounds exciting for you. I’m glad you get to do it, but I’m kind of sad that you’ll be away those two weeks.”

He wrapped his arms tighter around her. “Me too. But we’ll make the most of it.”

As she embraced him with her cheek against his chest, Bragnae wondered how much she’d get to talk with Drake while he was away. She even considered driving there in between the weeks he was gone to hang out. Amidst all the positive and healthy plans running through her mind, she still couldn’t escape the awkward encounter with Leo, and trying to assess what it all meant.

#trr #trr choices fanfic #trr drake #trr leo #the royal romance #the royal romance drake #the royal romance fanfic #trr fanfic #drake x mc #drake x bragnae #drake walker #leo reese #bragnae bennett #trr love triangle #TRR Winner Take All Fanfic #italianfood #chinesefood #handy turns to a blowy

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edelwoodsouls · 4 years

Text

all roads lead - ch. 6

When his mother dies, Stiles runs away, straight into danger - only to be saved by Peter Hale. Seven years later, after burying their alpha, Stiles and Malia return home.

Word Count: 2,397 | Also on Ao3 | Other Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5,

Chapter 6: FLINCH

It takes less than an evening for the pieces of Beacon Hills to begin to fall together in Stiles' mind.

The four teenagers kill time until dinner watching television in somewhat awkward silence, passing around a bowl of microwave popcorn. Stiles still can't figure out what they were watching, his senses too overwhelmed by the two unsuspecting werewolves sitting so close on the sofa beside him, the beta leaning into his shoulder, his father shifting back and forth in the kitchen next door.

Dinner is an even more tentative affair. Melissa arrives just as John sets the shepherds pie in the centre of the table. She stinks of hospital cleaning fluids and that distinct floral perfume that hangs around his father's scent, but her smile is just as warm as Stiles remembers, and when she hugs him without hesitation it feels a little too much like memories eight years gone.

Melissa and John are sickeningly good together. They move around, between, with each other in a perfectly synchronised dance. They touch, and laugh, leaning into each other with the effortlessness of certainty.

They're good for each other, and Stiles is surprised to find any lingering bitterness begin to fizzle out inside him.

But whilst John's cooking has, in fact, come on in leaps and bounds since the last meal he gave Stiles - frozen waffles and ketchup - it's not enough to dissipate the thick tension in the air, like the pressure of clouds before lightning.

Scott manages to carry the conversation practically single-handed, with regular interruptions from Malia. He tells them all about sports practice, about the pretty cool new english teacher, about the cute puppy he treated at the animal clinic.

The topics are noticeably inane. More than once, Scott stumbles over a word, glances sharply at Stiles and Malia, quickly changing the subject. Stiles almost pities him. If he didn't know anything about the supernatural, he'd be more than a little suspicious by now.

Stiles stays quiet for the most part, watching this choreography of a normal life that he has never had the chance to witness so closely. Even in a half supernatural family, real life holds dominion. They worry about how to keep their grades up to stay on the lacrosse team. The fact that the local ice rink didn't get enough funding to stay open. The flashy new rich kids with bikes much better than theirs. Random, normal things that completely pass Stiles by.

He wonders how much he missed in New York, holding himself above the rest, writing them off as petty teenagers who knew nothing of the world. Was it just jealousy the whole time? That they could care about the things Stiles had to leave behind?

He cringes away from this realisation- and finds Isaac is staring directly at him.

Where Scott is a waterfall of movement and sound, Isaac is a silent, watchful stone. They balance each other well - Scott's open sunshine, Isaac's caution. He watches the room the way Stiles does: looking for the exits, assessing the threats. Flinching at any movement too sudden, any voice too loud. The clatter of cutlery against plates, a sharp bout of laughter.

He recognises the signs of trauma - no, the signs of abuse - far too well. The mystery of this strange boy his father and old best friend have adopted unfurls a little more.

Stiles meets his eyes, surprised when Isaac doesn't look away. He may behave like a shrinking violet, but Stiles gets the feeling he would do anything for Scott. The way he leans towards his alpha, instinctively, protectively - the same way he leans towards Malia, a gravity built on years of weight. He wonders if this boy filled the vacuum Stiles left when he vanished. If Scott attracts broken, darkened things like moths to flame.

Maybe magic and werewolves are an inevitability in this town, not the result of an ill-wandered youth.

"Are you gonna start coming to school?" Scott asks out of nowhere, and the tension ratchets up a thousand volts, breaking apart the unnoticed staring contest.

"Uh," Stiles starts. Stops. "I'd like to, yeah."

"I'd rather jump off a skyscraper," Malia all but snarls into her mashed potato. "But yes. I guess."

"Awesome," Scott grins. "It'll be great to have new people who're actually nice." Stiles has to stop himself from snorting. Never did he think someone would describe him as nice. "The new twins are dicks. Isaac got detention because of them."

"Detention?" John asks sharply, a father if ever Stiles heard one.

Isaac flinches a mile. Folds even further in on himself, eyes lost in his lap. "It wasn't what it looked like," he says, so softly the words are almost lost in the sudden silence of the kitchen.

"It wasn't his fault!" Scott leaps in vehemently. "The twins riled him up, got him angry, then framed him for beating them up in the halls-"

"Isaac, we're not angry, honey," Melissa says suddenly, yet gently as ever. "We absolutely believe you. There's nothing to be afraid of."

"Right, absolutely," John stumbles to follow, face drawn in panic. "Even if you did have detention, it's honestly nothing. What's one detention? Stiles had detention every day for a year when he was nine!"

"In my defence, Miss Clarke really hated you because you arrested her brother for kidnapping," Stiles says. "So really I think I was entirely innocent on that front."

The tension in the room eases, air let from an overblown balloon. Isaac uncurls, slowly, like a sunflower as the dawn breaks over the horizon. Scott's hand rests on his arm, not taking any pain but clearly reminding him of comfort, of pack. Stiles knows very little about Isaac, and yet he finds himself wanting to do anything to alleviate his discomfort.

He's not used to allowing himself to care about others. About anyone, really, except Peter and Malia, and- the one or two people who wormed their way into his heart by sheer force of will. Maybe he looks at Isaac and sees a possibilty of his own future, if he had remained trapped in a house of ghosts and overboiling temper. He'd like to think that's all, that his carefully guarded heart isn't beginning to crack more than it already has.

The rest of the meal passes with an added, wary undercurrent, everyone dancing around their words like cracks in the pavement.

Plates cleaned away, Scott stands up. "Mom, can you help me with dessert?" There's a strangled note to the alpha's voice, as if the words have been trying to force themselves out for too long. Stiles watches them leave.

"So why are you here?" Malia asks Isaac, so abruptly Stiles doesn't have time to anticipate damage control.

To his credit, Isaac barely seems phased. "Freezer related incidents," he shrugs, as if this is a perfectly sensible answer. "Why are you?"

"Coyotes."

Stiles leaves them to trade snide remarks at each other whilst his father referees; they seem impressively evenly matched. Instead, he has no qualms about focusing his hearing towards the other room, the murmured voices and distinct lack of movement.

"What happened, hun?" Melissa asks, voice soft as ever, yet firm, prompting.

"The alpha twins," Scott starts, stops, and Stiles has to school his expression to hide his shock. Twin werewolves are rare, believed to be incredibly powerful. Alpha twins are unheard of- except a single pair, blood-soaked and vicious. Why would they be in Beacon Hills of all places?

"The alpha twins?" Melissa prompts.

"They've really gotten under Isaac's skin since they... killed the others. They know exactly how to rile him up, and so they've made him a target. And I got a call from Derek on the way home - he and Cora were attacked at the loft. He almost bled out. I just- I don't know what I'm doing, mom."

Stiles hears the moment when Scott's voice breaks, and finds his heart cracking a little more in kind. He of all people shouldn't have let all those sunshine smiles distract him from the obvious pressure of being an alpha so young. Scott's positivity, even when they were children, had been a result of his suffering, not evidence of its lack.

And he's still an alpha, Stiles has to remind himself. He still has blood on his hands, somehow, and that makes him a threat despite any deceptive kindness.

"You're doing everything you can, sweetie," Melissa's voice is muffled, as if by a hug. "You've only been an alpha for a few months, and it's not easy, being a leader even in the best of times. What you've dealt with? Becoming a werewolf, hunters, now the alpha pack? It amazes me every day that you even get out of bed."

"I really wanted this to be the year I got my life back on track. Getting my marks up so I can do AP classes and stay on the lacrosse team, y'know? And now Stiles is here again and I don't know how to feel about that at all..."

"Because he's been gone so long? Because this house is already lively enough with two boys under its roof?" There's a small smile in Melissa's voice.

"Because everything new in this town seems to be something twisted and awful and supernatural. He's been gone seven years. Why did he leave? Where has he been? Who's Malia? I want to trust him, I've missed him so much, but..."

"What do your magical alpha senses tell you? What does he smell like?" The kitchen goes quiet for a moment, and Stiles feels the uncomfortable itch under his skin of being watched.

"He's human," Scott sighs with a guilt-wrenching amount of relief. "But he smells like concern all the time. The way he and Malia move around each other, I can't help but wonder what the two of them have been through, where they've been-"

"Scott, the best thing about you is your big heart. I often wish you wouldn't give it out so easily, but don't let past burns close you off completely from genuine miracles. Stiles is human, and against all odds he's come home. The rest can come later, when he's ready. We have to give him time. I mean, we're hiding things from him too, aren't we? Unless you'd like to carry this trifle back in there in all your sideburns and fangs."

Stiles pulls his attention back to the dinner table, reeling. There's so much, too much, all at once.

The alpha pack were infamous in New York. They were a favourite horror story, passed between supernatural teenagers like an urban legend, a ghost story. For betas the meaning was clear: don't anger your alpha, or he might murder your whole pack and join the alpha pack. For alphas: don't be too good at anything, don't make yourself special or noticeable, or the demon wolf will stalk you from the shadows.

Peter had scoffed at the stories, but even he couldn't hide how they made his skin crawl.

If the alpha pack are in Beacon Hills, this is the worst possible place he and Malia could be. The blood of his own pack is fresh on Stiles' hand, the obstacle between him and them a singular beta. He is a wolf who has also been a fox, who still has a little magic left running through his veins despite no longer being human.

There is no guarantee they would care about him at all.

But the risk is there, a sliver of ice sliding towards his heart.

They must be here for Scott, but what makes him special? Or maybe they're here for Laura Hale, the current alpha of the prestigious if decimated Hale pack. Scott mentioned her younger brother Derek, so the two packs must be on tentatively good terms, at least.

Unless, of course, Scott McCall is the current owner of the Hale alpha power. Which is an entirely possible and unpleasant reality that leaves an awful taste in Stiles mouth. He tries to imagine Scott stood over a body, claws blood-soaked, eyes flickering from gold to red.

It feels so wrong. He shoves the image away as Scott and Melissa emerge from the kitchen, carrying a towering monstrosity he supposes is the aforementioned trifle.

"You with me?" Malia nudges him gently in the ribs. There's a question in her eyes - she knows his propensity for eavesdropping, and he can see how much effort it's taking her not to ask right here and now.

"Later," he whispers, turning back to the table with as much of a grin as he can manage.

There are too many unknowns in Beacon Hills. At least in New York, there was an obvious hierarchy, the etiquette between packs and other supernatural creatures rigorous and unchallenged. Here it seems like a mess of blood and confusion.

But leaving now would cause more problems thann Stiles has the energy to deal with. A reawakened search for a missing sheriff's son and an Eichen House escapee could make national news, especially now that Scott and Isaac know about New York.

And Stiles finds he doesn't want to leave - just yet, at least. Even in a house of wolves, he has a bed to sleep in, Malia by his side, his father in his life. He's laid the groundwork for friendship that he hopes will make people hesitate and listen before they try to murder him. Yes, there's risk, and the potential for blood in the near future.

But is it really so different? He ran from blood - who knows what would have happened to him and Malia if they'd stayed in New York?

The Argents are not a forgiving family, and Stiles has done the unforgiveable. They would have been hunted to the ends of the earth, and without the power of the nogistune he doesn't think they'd last long.

And whilst there probably isn't a standard punishment for betas who get possessed and murder their alpha and several other prominent figures in the supernatural community, he can't imagine they'd be lenient.

After all, no one particularly cared about Peter Hale, but everyone loved Noshiko Yukimura.

So they'll stay. Act human. Go to school, play lacrosse, hang out with Scott. Maybe even try to help out with the alpha pack, if they can.

And when the blood comes knocking, perhaps they'll stand a chance.

#teen wolf #fanfiction #stiles stilinski #malia tate #isaac lahey #scott mccall #sheriff stilinski #melissa mccall #own work

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dukedrakes · 4 years

Text

Finally

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x MC (Lily)

Rating: PG-13 (some cursing)

Words: 2.3K

Summary: Lily and Ethan finally talk about ‘us’.

This was requested by a beautiful anon who wanted to see my take on what happens when Ethan and MC finally decide to screw ethics and let themselves be together – I’m so sorry it’s taken so long; life hasn’t been kind. Thank you so much for the request and please send me any prompts if you like!

P.S I really miss Ethan.

Don’t forget to tell me what you think, Reblog and Like! Enjoy!

Find my other work here.

Taglist: @emceesynonymroll @butindeed @saivilo @ibldw-main@drakeswalkers @maxwellshippo @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @drakewalkerwhipped @cora-nova @kayden-vescovi @katedrakeohd @ladyangel70 @drakesensworld @ccolz88-blog @i-miss-trr @lady-kato @nazario-sayeed @perriewinklenerdie @furiouscloddonutpeanut @choicesyouplayandmore @drakewalker04 @innerpostmentality @carreraleigh

(I curated the tag list by adding people who wanted to be tagged + people who interacted with any of my posts of or about my fics and/or are mutuals/friends, so if you’d like to be added or removed, let me know!)

Lily sat in the locker room bench; legs crossed with a medical textbook in front of her. She had an apple in her hand which she ate she scanned through the passages filled with medical jargon that might help her with treating one her patients. It was unusually quiet in the locker room, no doors slammed or chatter from the other residents. But Lily welcomed the serenity, it gave her the opportunity to focus and concentrate on the words in front of her.

However, she couldn’t. For a certain fellow member of the Diagnostics Team was consuming her thoughts instead.

It had been exactly 4 months and 17 days since she’d been offered the position that everyone had been vying over. And it had also been exactly 4 months and 17 days since whatever was between herself and Dr. Ethan Ramsey had ended. In truth, she wasn’t expecting it to hurt as much as it did. Even though she’d known that night before was going to be their last now that Ethan had been reinstated. She thought she had prepared enough emotionally. That their night together would’ve satisfied her enough to let him go. But she was wrong. Incredibly wrong.

She hadn’t expected to be offered the position on the Diagnostics Team, she was grateful to be even given a second chance at Edenbrook. She definitely hadn’t anticipated being promoted. And certainly not to the very team where the man running it was one she’d slept with twice and had an undeniable connection with.

She knew ending whatever it was between them was the right thing to do. She knew that. But it was still hard. Especially when she saw Ethan every day, had to work with him on patients, confer with him on treatment plans – all the while pretending that everything was fine when in reality, she wanted nothing more than to take his hand in hers and just touch him.

That was the thing that got her the most. Not being able to just touch him. Hold his hand. Trace her fingers up his arm. Or run her fingers across the stubble on her jaw – her favourite thing to do. She could handle not kissing him – she wanted to do that too – but to be starved of his touch was the hardest. There were times where Ethan’s hand would graze hers as he pointed to something on a chart, or his arm would brush against hers as he passed her, and the energy of that contact travelled through her entire being, giving her goosebumps and making her stomach flip. It was kind of like that feeling you get when you accidentally touch the person you’ve been crushing on, but it was all backwards because Lily had already been with Ethan.

Lily sighed and closed her textbook and tossed her apple core in the bin. She put her head in her hands. She didn’t know what to do. She’d been pretending and walking on eggshells around Ethan for months now. She was tired. And she didn’t know how long she could keep this up. It was even more of a stab in the heart when she saw Ethan being so irrevocably and completely normal around her. Like nothing had changed. Like nothing had even happened between them. It was like Lily had imagined the whole thing and was holding onto nothing but a fantasy.

She stood up and put the textbook in her locker. With her break over and no progress on a plan for her patient, she straightened her classic white doctor jacket in the mirror, before leaving the locker room. She walked down the hallways, making her way to Ethan’s office, her feet knowing the familiar route without even thinking about it. She needed advice on her patient, and she was clearly getting nowhere by herself. She had no choice but to talk to Ethan. No matter how much she didn’t want to. It was much easier to pretend when she wasn’t near him.

It wasn’t long before she was in front of his office door. The dark blue nameplate that read “Dr. Ethan Ramsey” a contrast to the light wood of the door. He might not even be in his office. She hoped he wouldn’t be. But there was also a part of her that wanted to see him. Because this was all she got now. She had to take what she could get. Until she eventually got over him. If she ever did.

Lily took a deep breath and raised her slightly trembling hand to the wood of the door. She stood there for a few seconds that felt more like hours, contemplating whether to even bother Ethan with this, he’s no doubt busy and she was more than capable of figuring this out herself once she forced herself to concentrate. She didn’t want to rely on Ethan. She didn’t want to be that girl.

With a clenched hand and her fingernails digging into her palm, she mumbled. “Just knock, you dumbass.”

“Lily?”

Lily whipped her head to the side and saw him. Ethan. He was standing there with a clipboard in hand, looking as handsome as ever in his classic blue shirt and tie under his Edenbrook coat. Lily took in breath both from the sight of him and the realisation that he’d seen her in front of his door, just standing there with her hand poised to knock.

“Ethan. I mean. Dr. Ramsey. Hi.” Lily stuttered as she jumped back and quickly retracted her and held it behind her back.

Ethan cleared his throat. “Dr. Murphy.”

There was a beat of silence between them where both weren’t sure what to say to each other. This interaction felt different somehow. Every time they’d spoken there was this level of distance and professionalism that they maintain to ensure that neither of them got too close – that there was a boundary between them. But this time Ethan had caught Lily in this private moment with herself, it almost felt like an intrusion.

Lily took a breath. “Um, how long have you been standing there?”

Ethan shook his head. “Not long.”

He was lying. Lily could always tell.

“I need to talk to you about a patient.” She asked tentatively.

Ethan nodded and strode to his door to unlock it, he opened it and stood to the side to let Lily in first. Lily mumbled a ‘thanks’ as she walked into the office. Ethan followed as he went behind the desk, put his clipboard down and began to file the papers in the meticulously organised filing cabinet.

Lily stood at the edge of the scene in front of her. She watched him move effortlessly, the awkwardness in the air around them.

“Well? What is it?” Ethan asked. “I’ve got a meeting with Banerji in 10 minutes.”

Lily blinked at his bristled tone. “I need some help with figuring out the best course of action with a patient who’s got some contradicting issues.”

“Can’t you do that yourself? You’re more than capable, Li— Dr. Murphy.” Ethan huffed.

Lily frowned. “Excuse me for disturbing you. I just wanted to treat the patient correctly.”

Ethan sighed. “That’s not what I meant.”

“So, what did you mean?” Lily crossed her arms.

“I meant, you’re a good doctor, Lily.” Ethan replied.

“That doesn’t mean I don’t need help every now and then.” Lily retorted.

Ethan ran his hand through his tousled hair. “I haven’t got time for this right now.”

“Then make time!” Lily exclaimed with a spark of anger.

Lily and Ethan looked at each other, both surprised by her outburst. Ethan was often hard to read, but this time, his eyes betrayed him completely. “Why do you keep pushing me away?” Lily whispered.

Ethan closed his eyes and hung his head. “Don’t do this, Lily.”

“Just answer the question, Ethan.” Lily said sternly.

“You know exactly why.” Ethan replied sharply.

“No, I don’t think I do. Maybe you can explain it to me in a way that I understand.” Lily patronised.

“Stop acting like a child, we’re adults, Lily.” Ethan rolled his eyes.

“Says the man who can’t deal with and express his emotions.” Lily knew the words were harsh and unfair, but she was angry. Months of frustration and hurt that have been bottled up were finally coming out. “You’ve barely looked at me properly in months. It’s like everything that happened didn’t even matter to you.”

“You know damn well that’s not true.” Ethan flared.

“Do I?” Lily challenged. “So, answer my question, Ethan.”

“You think it’s just so easy, don’t you?” Ethan replied, acid on his tongue with every word as he stepped towards her. “Have you even considered the ethnical and workplace consequences of us? There are patients to consider, the team, HR, we can’t just say ‘fuck it’ and do what we want, Lily. There are bigger issues here than me and you.”

“I’m not some petulant child that doesn’t understand consequences, Ethan. But I know when to take a risk for something that’s important to me.” Lily replied.

They were almost chest to chest now, and Lily has to crane her neck to look at Ethan.

“I’m not a risk-taker. You know that.”

“So, I guess that translates into; ‘You’re not worth the risk.’ Got it.” Lily smiled with contempt. “Guess I have my answer.”

Lily stepped back and began to turn away from Ethan, but he reached for her arm and pulled her back. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

Lily raised her voice, exasperated and said; “Then what are you saying, Ethan!? Stop speaking in riddles and just fucking tell me! I’m so fucking tired of tiptoeing around you and us. I know you saw me standing outside your door for longer than you said, I can’t even talk to you anymore without getting this awful dread in the pit of my stomach that I hate because I shouldn’t feel like that around the person that I—”

“I’m scared, okay?!” Ethan exclaimed. Silence enveloped them, the only sound was Lily and Ethan’s breaths, heavy from the argument. Ethan cupped Lily’s cheeks as he said; “I want you more than anything, Lily. But I’m scared of what could happen if we…” He shook his head.

Lily blinked at him. Before she let out a breath of disbelief mixed with relief and dare-she-say, love? And put her hands over his, rubbing her thumbs over the back of his hand. Finally. “If we what, Ethan?”

Ethan took in a breath. “If we pursue this, what would happen when everyone finds out? I don’t want them thinking negative things, especially about you.”

Lily shook her head. “I don’t care about anyone else. And you shouldn’t either. You’re Ethan fucking Ramsey for god’s cake.” Lily smiled. “I care about you. Anyone that knows me knows the truth.”

“And what if…if this doesn’t work?” Ethan asked. “What would we do then? How would it affect our work?”

“But what if it does work?” Lily whispered.

Ethan shook his head, pulling away from Lily and turning his back, running a hand through his hair again. “I don’t know, Lily. I don’t know I can do this.”

Ethan stood with his hands on his hips and his head to the ceiling, his eyes closed. Lily walked behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist, her forehead resting on his back. She couldn’t deny that she felt him relax under her touch. And Ethan couldn’t either.

Lily moved to hold his right arm with both hands, before moving one to hold his hand. His fingers instinctively interlaced with hers. “What if we…what if we come up with a plan?” Lily looked up at him.

“What kind of plan?” Ethan asked, looking down at her by his side.

“A plan to try this. Try us. See where it goes. But we’ll keep it a secret, so, we can see if we like us. Then we’ll talk to Banerji about this if we really do. He’ll understand. You’re like a son to him. And then if it’s okay, we’ll tell some people – my friends, but still keep it quiet so it doesn’t impact the workplace.” Lily suggested, her thumb rubbing his hand again like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“And if it’s not okay? What if Banerji says no?” Ethan asked.

“Then we figure something out. I move from Edenbrook, maybe.” Lily replied with a small shrug.

“I can’t make you do that.” Ethan shook his head in disapproval.

Lily leaned her head on his arm. “But I would, for you. For us.”

“Us...” Ethan whispered.

“What do you think?” Lily asked with a small voice. “Can we do that? Do you want to?”

“It’s going to be hard.” Ethan said.

“I know.”

“But I want to. God knows I want to more than anything.” Ethan sighed like a weight was lifted off his shoulders and turned so he could take both of Lily’s hands. “I can’t bear another day without you.”

Lily didn’t know who moved in first. But their lips finally connected, and both of them collapsed into the kiss. Lily wrapped her arms around his neck as Ethan’s arms went around her middle, holding her there before lifting her to his height. Lily wrapped her legs around him and smiled into the kiss, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. The world stopped around them. They both starved for this kiss and it was finally happening, and it was as if all the pieces of the world’s hardest puzzle fell into place.

When they finally broke away, they rested their foreheads together. Smiling and looking into each other’s eyes. Ethan was still holding her effortlessly as Lily hugged him tightly, burying her head into the crook of his neck as his stubble tickled her skin. Ethan held her just as tightly as he did the same, his eyes shutting as he breathed in the smell of her skin and the familiar smell of her cocoa butter shampoo.

Lily pressed a light kiss to Ethan’s neck. “I missed you.”

Ethan smiled into her skin. “I missed you more.”

I hope you all enjoyed it! Let me know what you thought!

If you have any requests, please send them in! It might take me some time to get to (I have a list of fics I want to write) but I would love to see them!

Remember to Reblog and Like!

#playchoices #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan ramsey fic #open heart #larissa's fics #larissa's drabbles #finally #playchoices fic #choices fic #playchoices one shot #choices one shot #pixelberry #choices #choices: stories you play #open heart fic

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wotnahq · 4 years

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Lucy Marie Cage • 26 • Female (she/her) • Metahuman • Astral Manipulation • Civilian

BIOGRAPHY

TRIGGER WARNINGS: STRONG VIOLENCE, BLOOD AND GORE

Lucy was born to Alec and Bianca Gale on 17th June 2019 in the city of Charlotte, North Carolina. She was the second child of her family, and the only blood descendant of her parents: Brendan, her older brother, was adopted before Lucy was born; Felix and Harriet, the twins among them, were adopted together when lucy was 2; Lily was fostered when she turned 8, shortly after Lucy’s 13th birthday. Cora was the eldest, a runaway from an abusive family - she sought shelter in their home, and ended up staying to become part of the family. Their father worked as a history professor at Queens University of Charlotte, while her mother was a secretary for a law firm, and so they lived in a large apartment near the city centre.

Despite their wealth, Alec and Bianca attempted to provide their children with as ordinary a life as they could. The siblings were sent to a nearby public school, where Lucy’s kind nature made her extremely popular, and her diligence for study propelled her through elementary and middle school. She was even offered a scholarship for a prestigious private highschool when she was 13. Although she would be attending a different school to Cora and Brendan, she jumped at the opportunity - taking a particular shining to the theatre and dramatic arts classes, she quickly found her niche and settled into the routine relatively quickly. The variety there astounded Lucy: she was part of the training group for cheerleading and played for the girl’s basketball team, but especially loved the opportunity to be a part of the school production that year. The time commitments placed a heavy strain on her, although she ensured she kept the stress and panic away from her family.

Three weeks before her 15th birthday, Lucy was woken up in the middle of the night with an excruciating burning sensation on her arm. In front of her eyes, a transparent black rune scorched itself onto her flesh, and she quickly showed it to her parents. Alec was confused, but Bianca already knew, from her position as a secretary, about the stories of the Metahumans that had recently begun spreading after an incident on the east coast. She knew in her heart that her daughter was another one. Initially she wanted to take Lucy for tests, to see if she was in danger, but Alec convinced her to give it time. Lucy herself was scared of the pain, as the rune burned like oil against her skin, but after seeing the panic and fear in her mother’s eyes, she did her best to keep a brave face and hold it in. It wouldn’t last long.

A year passed. Time revealed a dramatic alteration to Lucy herself: she became angry, hateful, and confessed to her parents that she had urges to hurt and even kill people. These initial shifts were contributed to her natural development, however the increasing urges were never diagnosed properly, even by mental health professionals. Although her parents were prepared for Lucy to change over her growth, especially with her differences, it quickly escalated - anger turned to threats, threats turned into violence, and violence turned to danger. Her father ended up locking her into a modified cell he had been building in a back room of their apartment, and there she remained for 5 years. The family claimed whenever necessary that Lucy was busy most of the time, which many believed after her dedication to work growing up, and all the while they kept her in the cell to prevent her from lashing out, with almost daily visits from her siblings and parents in her calm periods. Lucy would read books, play video games, and try to let them see that she was the same girl she’d been years ago, but keeping up such a façade became more and more of a challenge for her skills. The solitude of her new life - no more school, no more friends, no more nothing - combined with the violent thoughts and hatred that had spawned in her head began pushing her further and further from the girl she once was, and yet she kept it suppressed to convince her family she was okay.

On the night of her 22nd birthday, Lucy’s increasing talent for manipulation and acting paid off, and she was finally let out of the room to celebrate with her family. But this was the first time she’d seen the life they led without her, and it only fuelled her anger - how could they keep her trapped in that tiny room for years, while they lived like nothing was wrong? Did she, their own daughter and sister, mean so little to them? Nevertheless, keeping up her act of 5 years, she managed to get through the night, and stashed the knife they used to cut her birthday cake down the side of her boot before she was locked up again. The experience of that night brought back her happiest childhood memories, and she began to have second thoughts about her plan, but the later the hour became, the more those thoughts morphed into hatred: her childhood, a time that could’ve been filled with joy, was stolen from her by the ones who promised to give her the best life possible. They had promised her they’d never hurt her, that they’d do what they had to to protect her, but locking her up was not what they’d had to do. It was what they’d wanted to do. And she needed to make them pay.

Lucy used the knife to crack the lock of her cell and initially returned to her old room, to find that Cora had now moved in. Her bedroom, completely erased of her memories and made up for a girl who didn’t belong. The anger flared in her and buried any remaining hesitation lacing her heart, and after pinning the sleeping woman to the bed, she began garrotting her using wiring from the utility cupboard. The struggle didn’t cause her to think twice, she felt no guilt hearing Cora struggle to breathe, and she continued to slice the wiring deeper into her flesh. But it was now that Lucy finally discovered the purpose of her powers: as her sister ran out of oxygen, the essence leaked from her lips and curled up like a mist, and Lucy unwittingly breathed it in. Her adrenaline, her bloodlust, shot through the roof, and hatred overwhelmed the only human elements she held in her heart - her newfound strength turned the wire into a blade, removing Cora’s head under her push. Blood coated her hands, pouring across the sheets, and black mist poured from the parted lips of the head, filling Lucy’s lungs. It made her feel more powerful than she had ever been, but more importantly, it gave her the strength to decide that Cora would only be the first to die that night.

Each of her siblings fell victim to her one by one. Brendan was next, and a knife through the throat put him down quick enough. The twins would be harder, as one would attempt to save the other if Lucy was too loud, and so she slit each of their throats, leaving them to bleed out in mere seconds. And Lily… poor little Lily. Lucy would have fun with her. She nudged the girl awake, ensuring she hid any of the blood that dyed her hands, and let her give the killer one final tight hug. She soon lay in her bed, knife wounds dotting her stomach and chest, her eyes devoid of life. Lucy’s lungs were filled with each of their essences, her rune now pulsating on her skin, and her parents were next. She remained silent entering their room, and soon had her mother at knifepoint, drawing drips of blood as she taunted Alec to his feet. Every plead that the man made, every grovel, just pushed Lucy to realise how truly pathetic he was - he’d stolen her childhood because of his fear of what the girl could become. And now he saw how sadistic she could be: she slowly slit Bianca’s throat, absorbing every drop of essence, and let the bleeding corpse fall onto their bed. For Alec the knife wouldn’t be necessary, so she dropped it and pounced at him to pin him to the wall, her hands locked around his throat. Her transformed eyes finally revealed to him the last traces of his true daughter - dark, hollow, filled with nothing but hatred - before she snapped his neck. His essence was the strongest from the overwhelming pain and fear he’d felt in his final moments.

Now came the complex part: disposing of the bodies. A burial would raise suspicion and open Lucy to witnesses, so a crude disposal might be necessary. Only a few miles outside of the city was an old abandoned meat packing plant, and so every day, one by one, she transported the bodies to the plant to dump them into the grinder, smuggling them into the car Alec’s keys unlocked by stashing them in her gym bag when she left each day. Within a week her family’s bodies were disposed of, but even after the month ended, she felt not a tinge of guilt or sadness for what she’d done: finally she was allowed to feel the sun again, to leave her apartment, and if that meant she had to eliminate the obstacles, so be it. Lucy finally understood what her power was and what it could do, and she knew it was all that would keep her going now. The strength, the power, the control, it all flowed from the rune she’d once considered a curse and that had changed her life, and she had to keep it satisfied. But to do that properly she’d have to find a new home.

Lucy allowed herself a year to readjust to life, and over that year, she heard of the Nephilim’s attack on Pansaw, California. The organisation had quickly dropped into hiding, but their motivations sparked a thought in her head: what if her parents had only done it because she was a Meta? What if it was only for her differences? She managed to get access to her father’s money, which would help to maintain the façade that he was still alive, and used it to fund her identity change and facial surgeries, transforming her into Lucy Cage. Two months later, with every trace of blood and flesh cleaned away, Lucy called and organised removalists, and soon her family’s apartment was nothing but an empty shell, waiting for the next group to move in. She moved soon after to Pansaw, renting an apartment in Bostwick, and easily passed off her rune as a tattoo - nobody suspected her of being Meta, and there was no way she’d register with this new system. The Nephilim were right - they were the supreme kind, and humans would one day face a newly reformed Nephilim, with her as part of it.

By 2045 Lucy has settled into life in Pansaw - she has no work, but instead extorts and steals from victims she meets, and uses the money to fund her training in the dramatic arts at Pansaw University. A variety of disappearances and gruesome murders by a seemingly nonexistent killer have earned her the nickname of Ghost in the media, but now trained in her abilities, Lucy is in little to no danger of getting caught. She’s a new girl, with a new personality, new career, and new life, and no human will lock her or her kind up again - if they ever dared to try, she as a Metahuman would slice them down like she’d done to her family. She’s done it once, what could stop her from doing it again?

POWERS

ASTRAL MANIPULATION: Using essence harvested from dying souls, Lucy can create, shape and manipulate astral energy, allowing her instantaneous manipulation over the astral plane. She can interact with and see spirits, make spirits visible to others, tear holes in the barrier, and potentially even harm or kill the living utilising the spirits that cross. She can manipulate her own physical form and cross between the planes, allowing her movement and combat enhancements, as well as increase her strength and endurance using a liquefied version of essence.

WEAKNESSES

Her actions and powers can be suppressed, nullified, or reversed by other Astral Manipulation users. Steady source of essence is required for any and all powers. Very low levels of essence causes extreme grogginess, slower reaction times, and lowered coordination of any kind. Requires consistent concentration to maintain Astral Pain Suppression, Astral Attacks or Astral Phase. Concentrations of corruption, whether by natural cause or Lucy’s abilities, nearby in the astral plane has a severely adverse effect on Lucy when her rune attempts to absorb the excess as fuel. It then overflows into her physical form and temporarily causes extreme pain, as well as physical malformations.

PERSONALITY

+ Intelligent + Resourceful + Charismatic

– Fiery – Brutal – Destructive

#lsrp #mutant rp #superpower rp #oc rp #jena frumes #character #lucy cage

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diedyme · 4 years

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BASICS

GIVEN NAME : didyme CURRENT NAME: cora diamandis BIRTH DATE : around 1000 bc BIRTH PLACE : greece CURRENT LOCATION : nomadic AGE : 30 / 2,000+ SPECIES : vampire ( attempting to pass for human ) OCCUPATION : various occupations throughout the years , currently an antiquities curator MORAL ALIGNMENT : lawful neutral / lawful good

AFFILIATIONS

COVEN : no coven , nomadic FORMERLY : the volturi , aro ( brother ) ROMANTIC TIES: marcus ( mate , formerly ) OTHER TIES: carlisle cullen / olympic coven ( loosely ) , various nomads who know her only as cora ENEMIES: the volturi

APPEARANCE & SKILLS

HEIGHT: 5′1 BUILD: petite EYE COLOR: black ( when abstaining from blood ) , red / crimson ( due to human blood consumption ) - didyme frequently wears colored contacts to further obscure her eye color, making them appear an almost auburn - brown color. HAIR COLOR: brown PREFERRED HAND : left hand dominant COMPLEXION : fair with olive tones EDUCATION : various degrees in the arts & sciences. board certified psychologist, 3 phds in archeology / antiquities & sociology. extensive language proficiencies. ABILITIES: traditional vampiric abilities, exceptional self control ( didyme only feeds on blood obtained ‘humanely’ - ex: blood banks ) UNIQUE ABILITIES : happiness induction MEDIA INFLUENCES : persephone ( greek mythology ) , margaery tyrell ( asoiaf ) , jane eyre , cosette fauchelevant, mary poppins

CANON DEVIATIONS & RELEVANT NOTES

there is one huge and important deviation from canon - - didyme didn’t die. the circumstances of her failed assassination attempt will be detailed below , but it’s important to note that didyme would not be easily recognizable for most vampires apart from the original volturi members ( all of whom she has carefully avoided for centuries ). unless a vampire has the ability to discover who she is, or access to the memories of any of those who actually knew didyme as didyme - - she’s just another vampire. everyone believes didyme has died. she has only recently revealed herself to carlisle cullen, realizing that the volturi taking a vested interest in vampire activity leaves her vulnerable.

didyme has adopted an entirely new identity and a new life as cora diamandis. she actively attempts to pass as a human to further obscure herself from the volturi. her human nuances have been extremely well practiced over hundreds and hundreds of years.

didyme doesn’t necessarily have the intention to break up the volturi ! how she chooses to handle the revelations ( i.e. whether she tells marcus what really went down ) will all come from development & consultation with everyone ! she’s no one’s enemy sldkjfls

BACKGROUND

mentions of attempted murder and suicidal ideation below

HER HUMAN LIFE WAS BRIEF , and is so distant to her that it exists only in fleeting glimpses. of sunlight on the sea , warm mediterranean breezes , and an undeniable ability to bring joy into the lives of those she encountered. she had a brother she loved terribly , a brother who changed drastically . soon enough , he changed her too. she believed that her transformation was an act of love - and perhaps it was, but it was also an act of power . aro wanted to grow his influence , and thought his sister could develop gifts that would complement his own.

didyme’s abilities were not of the conquering type . in her rebirth , just in her life , she was capable of bringing happiness - bringing peace to those she encountered. it was a start , and aro put her to work , keeping his growing army placated & happy .

her ‘aura of happiness’ attracted many . she was fawned over & adored , but she never reciprocated . her abilities extended to others only - - she could not induce happiness upon herself. the love she was given felt one - sided ; false. until marcus. marcus made didyme feel the happiness she imparted on others . he was her heart’s mate , and the appeal of the growing volturi , of serving under her brother’s thumb , felt like a hinderance to a life lived in love . didyme requested aro’s permission to depart with marcus, and to her joy , she received it. or so she thought .

under the guise of preparing for her departure , didyme was escorted ( alone ) by a lower ranking volturi guard to obtain necessary materials . the newborn was under firm instructions to kill didyme, but due to her ability to calm and reassure him ( to make her presence a welcome thing ) he faltered .

didyme was able to unearth the truth of the situation ( or , a variation of the truth ) from the boy : aro & marcus felt that didyme was a hinderance to their conquest. they could not succeed if she survived, and thus it was essential that she be killed. didyme’s heart shattered. empowered by her sheer emotion, didyme was able to use her power to make the guard feel satisfied - accomplished - happy . she had altered his memory , allowing him to believe he had in fact killed her ( and thus hopefully obscuring her survival from aro )

filled with disbelief , didyme fled without a word - she could not endanger herself by confronting her brother , and she could not face marcus if he had in fact ordered her death.

in her isolation , didyme wished for death . in moments of despair she thought of returning to her brother and allowing him to exact his order fully . she could not bear her sorrow . but to die would mean that aro had succeeded , that her life would have been one in thousands of casualties . she had to live in spite.

and so , didyme recreated herself . through hundreds of years , who she was became a distant memory ( though her sorrow and longing never faded ). she lived a nomadic lifestyle , settling in one location as long as she was allowed - attempting to fit in with human society until she was forced to move on. she fed only on the cruel and murderous . she developed an extreme self control, and dedicated her existence to doing good - helping in whatever ways she could. she pursued knowledge avidly. she consorted with kings, stopped wars with her power.

she made a few friends under her new identity : cora . she did the best that she could , and still she ached . she gave the world the happiness she could not give herself.

cora cycled through professions , developed passions, and did whatever she could to quell her loneliness and occupy her time.

most recently, she settled in seattle as an antiquities curator for the seattle museum of art, working evenings as well as a child psychologist, helping them through their troubles in whatever limited ways she good. didyme might have lost her life & her love , but she kept her goodness.

didyme caught wind of the altercation that had arisen between the cullens & a nomadic group over a human girl. for the first time , didyme saw the possibility of an alliance - of a resurgence from the shadows. surely the volturi would be interested in this coven and their protection of a human. didyme could offer herself as a bargaining chip to protect the cullens , and they could in turn protect her .

didyme revealed herself to carlisle , asking for whatever help she could receive from him & offering the same . now that the newborn army looms on the horizon , and the volturi lurks at the cullens’ doorstep, it is time for didyme to face aro. the time for hiding has ended.

PERSONALITY & TIDBITS

i don’t really know what to say beyond the fact that she is baby. she’s soft and gentle and kind and has deserved nothing that’s come her way, but she’s absolutely capable of handling herself.

she doesn’t trust very easily , but is very willing to help others.

she’s never taken up another romantic connection.

i need to add more but she has adapted incredibly well over the years to pass as a human. while she’s still very old fashioned, she’s tried to adapt with the times.

#macabresintro #oof this is rOUGH

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descendantofthesparrow · 5 years

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Harry Hook x reader - Misunderstanding

goofygirl05 on wattpad

um could u make one with reader getting into a fight with Harry bc he ditched her on her bday to hook up but in reality he had a gift for her and some time passed and reader finds Harry drunk and they confess their feelings

you are the daughter of the queen of hearts

you cant believe it, he left, he left you alone on your birthday to hook up, hook up with some random broad, and your sister no less!!

It hurt, you weren’t dating him but it hurt, you have been in love with him since you were 12, now today you turned 17, 6 years, 6 years of staring sadly as he flirted with uma, chased others skirts(and some pants), and the most he did with you was act friendly.

Harry hook, the son of captain hook ditched you on your 17th birthday to hook up with Cora, your sister!! The first daughter of the queen of hearts (refrences~).

your mother owned a hair salon and a jewelry shop.

But that’s not important.

What was important is that you were waiting at the chip shop, waiting for harry for three hours, when you asked gil where he was, he had said “oh he's with Cora, I think they were doing it or something”

Your heart shattered, harry…harry had abandoned you…for your own sister, who bullied your relentlessly and had stolen all of your previous boyfriends (you were only with them for flings, but she stole them anyway)?

Harry would rather be with that witch than you, who had always treated him with kindness, who had cared for him when he had gone through a bad night with his dad, who had helped him when he had gotten the stomach flu.

He dropped all of that, for your bitch of a sister.

You stayed silent, not responding to either gil or uma, your anger boiling to the top.

Then HE entered.

He locked eyes with you, smiled and strutted over to you. You glared, making him stop.

“love, why are yeh lookin at meh like tha’ “ he furrowed his brows, looking confused. “Why?” you seethed, standing from the table making the stool you were sitting on fall to the ground, making harry flinch. “because you left me alone on my birthday to hook up with my fucking sister!!!!” you screamed Harry's eyes widened, still looking confused, but you didn’t fall for it.

“love, wait, what are ye-“

“don’t give me that crap Hook!! You let me sit here for hours wondering where you were, only to find out you were fucking my bitch ass sister!!”

“love please”

“DON’T CALL ME LOVE!”

You had the attention of the other patrons now, all wide-eyed and brows raised at the argument.

“just let me explain-“

“YOU DON’T NEED TO, YOU THOUGHT THAT SEX WAS MORE IMPORTANT THAN ONE OF YOUR OLDEST FRIENDS BIRTHDAY”

“(y/n) please it isn-“

“DON’T TALK TO ME, WHY DON’T YOU JUST GO FUCK SOME SKANK, OU SEEM TO BE GOOD AT THAT” tears streamed down your face, and you ran past harry, out the chip shop doors, and to your hideout.

You heard harry call after you, pleading for you to come back. But you didn’t listen, you just continued to run.

---

Hours later, you heard a slam at the door, and you slowly sat up from your bed, wiping the tears from your cheeks, grasping your steel bat from the nightstand.

You suddenly opened the door and yelped when a tall heavy figure collapsed on you, rum and ocean filling your senses.

“what the”

“why *hic* why won’ ye’ let me, expln meself loove”

Harry hook was in your arms, drunk, face flushed red and tears in his eyes. “I didn’t hoo’k up with yer sista, she was-*hic* she was helpin meh pick yer pre-present”

A clumsy drunk hand dug into his coat pocket, bringing out a flat box, and pressing it to your chest.

“i-I was looking fer the perfect one-i-you need *hic* the bestest one or it-it wouldn’t be worthy of yeh”

Harry collapsed against the wall, sniffing and rubbing his face.

“im-so*hic* sorry about leaving yeh the wait love I just *hic*-just wanted it teh be a surprise”

It was a simple ruby necklace, with a gold chain and when you picked it up, you felt a carving on the back, turning you saw wording.

You gasped,

I love you my queen

And below the ruby gem was a small note saying

Be mine?

-harry

Tears dripped down your face, looking at Harry, curled up on the floor.

“i-*sob* I love yeh so much love, im-im so sorry I *hic* left yeh all alone i-I” he babbled, tears dripping down his cheeks.

You kneeled down in front of him, carefully taking his hands, which clutched onto yours tightly.

“harry” you spoke slowly, his bloodshot eyes locked with yours, hope shining in his dim blue eyes “you're not sober, let's get you some water and sleep, and then we can talk about this in the morning, okay?”

Harry let out a few stuttered breaths, before nodding slightly and letting you help him up from the floor.

“come on, ooof, god your heavy, there we go”

You flopped harry onto your bed, undoing his boots and tossing them behind you, letting drunk emotional harry undo his belts, which he chucked at the wall.

You grabbed one of your rare un-opened water bottles, and cracked it open, handing it to harry, who downed it easily.

“sleep”

Harry sniffed, and buried his face in your pillow, smiling as your scent filled his senses. “smel’s like yeh”

He mumbled, cuddling the pillow.

You stared at him as he fell asleep, snoring as he did.

You would deal with this bullshit in the morning, you were exhausted after the drama of the day.

Worst.birthday.ever.

----

“(y-y/n)?”

Harry's soft voice woke you up, sniffing, you sat up from the couch, locking eyes with Harry's ocean blue ones, staring at you in confusion and worry.

“um, can-can we talk about yesterday?” he mumbled, eyes flicking down to his hands, which were fiddling with the belts sewed into his pants.

“harry” you sighed, he froze, peeking up at you through his eyelids. “I…” you stopped, biting your lip, Harry's shoulders slumped.

“Okay, I get it, ill go”

Harry started to stand when you stood up quickly and grabbed the box holding the necklace.

“do you mean it?”

Harry slowly started to turn red, eyes flitting around the room, mouth opening and closing.

“i-i…yes” harry gave in, looking humiliated, “I know, im so fucking stupid teh think tha’ I would stand a chance with yeh, and that you never want anything teh do with meh ever aga-mpph!”

You surged forward, catching Harry's lips with yours, shutting him up. Harry froze, stiff and unsure, before melting into the kiss, eye fluttering closed, hand coming up to cup your cheek.

Soon your lungs screamed at you to pull away and breath, so you did, a trail of spit still connecting you and harry. Harry's eyes were still closed, his breath stuttery and heavy.

“harry” you whispered, Harry's eyes fluttered open, locking directly with yours.

“I love you too”

His eyes brightened, the dim ocean blue becoming bright as if the sun was shining directly through the waves.

“r-really?!”

He was like a puppy, his leg twitching like it did when he was nervous and didn’t have his hook.

“you mean it?!”

You smiled, leaning forward and wrapping your arms around his neck, his arms surrounding your torso tightly.

“I do, Im in love with you harry hook.”

You heard harry laugh excitedly, standing up with you and spinning you around.

Best.day.after.birthday.ever.

--the end--

#Descendents #descendants #disney descendants #harry hook #harry hook descendants #harry hook x reader #harry hook imagine

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shadowdianne · 4 years

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Well

For @stregaomega @waknatious @italymystery-swanqueen @delirious-comfort

You are the gift I’m selfishly taking for myself from this fandom that gave us a lot while being our doom at the same time Xd So even if I’m gone…

M here was gracious enough to let me write one thing based on her manip. And so, I’m sending you the biggest warmest hug to you all… and some other stuff.

(Delirious, I’ve tagged you, but your thing will come in for New Year’s as I told you. Nevertheless, I wanted to say that I feel really lucky to have met you all. And considering the year I have had… you were a positive force back in 2018’s December. Thank you, for being there, for pushing me when I needed and for letting me rant when I didn’t truly have any words left)

And so, as the Basque way goes: Eguberri On!

PS: I’m INCREDIBLY RUSTY. Been months since I wrote for them, so I apologize beforehand.

The fountain’s water glimmered under the moonlight, the forever imprinted darker spots from where rivulets repeatedly hit the stone shadows that peppered through the moss that did its best to hide the sigils and symbols the sculptors had, once upon a time, considered important. Not like the two figures sitting at the very border of the tree that faced it were looking at them or the story they told, the lone twinkling lights coming from the torches around the plaza in where they were much more present than their eyes could ever be.

The clock had struck the hour in where night would turn to day after all, the echoes of gongs and mechanical whirring floating from the tall tower above the small nook the castle gardens created towards the two of them and, as they knew, their time together was coming to a close.

It hadn’t always been like that, Regina thought: the white from her dress grey and satin under the hiding moon. It had been very different back when they both had been children, young adults, when her title had been a distant, brittle threat rather than a curse and Emma had been slightly more than just her friend, slightly more than the helper that would get herself in trouble for always running away from what were supposed to be her duties. Just, slightly more.

It didn’t matter anymore, however, it didn’t truly matter as the other woman who had been reclined against her shuddered and sighed: the cape she had been wearing, fastened loosely around her shoulders, beginning to slide down her body as her shoulders trembled and morphed, patterns of feathers starting to appear over her knuckles, her fingers, her neck.

They had dared to be proud when they truly hadn’t been able to. They had dared to wish upon a star and fight when Regina’s mother had come with plans for conquest and tales of death and magic and, for the first time, the brunette had been forced to look at her mother’s eye and realize that the power her mother wielded wasn’t cloistered solely around her no more. Hunger and bloodlust had taken reign over Cora’s thoughts and there was little of what the woman could have been if she had chosen a magicless path. Not like Regina had truly seen her mother without the ring of red and black around her eyes.

Nothing of that mattered, however, not anymore since Regina had thought herself stronger, smarter, and so she had declined the promises of a blood-stained future while longing for touches that became longer and longer as years, months, weeks, progressed. As green eyes shone true amongst the many others who her mother wanted to marry her off. She had remained mute about that last tidbit though, knowing what kind of prize she would need to pay for it. And, as she had declined not only a title but what her mother considered to be the next step into a plan she couldn’t even begin to fathom how deep, how far, it would reach, she had seen the maniac, mercuric force that had filled Cora’s eyes, lighting her pupils, turning them into pools of promised demise.

Emma had screamed, had rushed over her side as Cora’s fingers had plunged into Regina’s chest, attempting to pluck her heart out as she had done many times already, relishing as she always did in the pain and anguish it caused. Regina had yelped then, had tried to push the girl, the young woman, who she had grown up with, with who she had fallen in love with, but it had been late, late as the snow that had fallen the second light had blinded them all while Cora’s magic had been redirected, a curse for a curse, a hex for a hex.

In a matter of seconds, Cora had been lying limp on the floor, magic trickling down her mouth in the form of ichor so black it looked like tar and Regina had wiped out her head towards Emma, worry eating her, devouring her, from inside.

Only feathers and light returned her stare.

Regina swallowed back a sob as the swan emerged from the blonde’s body, one last glance the last thing that remained between them as the last echo of spent time emitted a dying fluttering noise. The water of the fountain trembled and the tree she had seen her father plant when she had been little shuddered as the blast of magic she had grown so accustomed to it didn’t frazzle her anymore, shuddered and glowed in purples and golds.

They had been told, as Cora had been interred with a curse written on her teeth and tongue so no necromancer would be able to wake her up, that time and pain had been written on the words of the curse. One so powerful no one but the one who had uttered it would be able to lift. Regina had refused to take that as a truth, had fought back, had searched for her mother’s master, had knelt and bled and screamed but nothing had truly changed the fact that only during nighttime the feathers would turn into human flesh once more, Emma’s eyes glimmering emerald once more rather than the black the swan version of herself sported.

She had been married off at the end, a coup orchestrated by the imp she had dared to consider her own master that had lasted longer than she would have expected. The swan, however, had come with her, had learned alongside her, the inner workings of royalty in a way no one coming from the lower side of society had been able to be privy off. And so, the youth had been leeched out of both of them, time and essence stripping them bare with each night that it passed. Until they had heard from one of the scouts Regina had enchanted with her own eyes bleeding dark and purple and silver: the word love falling from his lips as he had knelt in front of one who had won the title of Queen even if there was very little she was let to reign over. Love would destroy the curse. True love would unbind the words and runes and pain that brought them together.

Emma had laughed meekly that night when she had moved closer to Regina as her feet touched the floor, arms hugging her torso, ribs poking through her skin, hair long and limp.

“I don’t believe in that.” She had whispered as she put her body against Regina’s side, one hand reaching, grazing Regina’s pulse-point with calloused hands and Regina had bit on her bottom lip at the notion that she had never told Emma, had never been able to say why, what, how, her mother had ultimately decided to use a hex against her. “Who would love me?”

She now eyed the swan once more as it moved back from her, wings opening and closing, the scent she had learned to recognize as magic pouring out of her in dribbling droplets no one else but her was able to see. It felt like thunder at times, storm and lighting under her skin as she tried hard not to think about what could have been. On what should have been.

"I promise you Emma, I’ll find a way to break this curse"

It sounded far much more doubtful than she intended but there were times, times like this, when the swan had just lost its human form, in where her eyes were still Emma’s rather than the animal, that Regina could have sworn something else, something more, kept peeking through the expression no bird would have been able to make. She remained silent afterward, however, knowing Emma could not answer back now, not until moonlight shone once again. And so, she waited and eyed the animal as it moved back towards her, mirroring how Emma had been seated less than a minute ago, its head against Regina’s neck, its wings wrapped around her in one final hug.

She had wondered once why her mother had chosen the path of magic, why anyone would gladly give up their autonomy for power. There were times, however, times like this, in where she wondered what she wouldn’t do in order to get Emma back.

Tell the woman how she felt, perhaps.

Because she loved her. Had loved her. Would love her.

And nothing else mattered.

#swanqueen #swan queen #surprise surprise #italymystery-swanqueen #waknatious #stregaomega #delirious-comfort #love you guys

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alj4890 · 5 years

Text

Halloween Prompt

(Thomas x Amanda) (Maxwel x Nadia) with the prompt of visiting a haunted house as requested by Anonymous.

(Thomas Hunt x oc*Amanda) (Maxwell Beaumont x Nadia Park) taken from And Then I Met You storyline.

A/N Sorry Nonnie! Been sitting in my drafts folder while being sick. Finally added the ending just in time for Halloween.

@lxaah11 @alleksa16 @penguininapinktuxedo @blackcoffee85 @stopforamoment @hopefulmoonobject @krsnlove @annekebbphotography @gibbles82 @cora-nova @bella-ca @hopelessromantic1352 . @sunflowergirl05 @desiree-0816 @greywitchyshots @lilyofchoices @emceesynonymroll @dr-nancy-house @aworldoffandoms @ab1901 @pixieferry @lolablackwrites @flyawayboo @i-bloody-love-drake-walker . @trappedinfandoms

Masterlist

Don't Let Go

"I think this will be our first Halloween not spent in Cordonia." Maxwell remarked while carving a pumpkin.

Amanda looked up from hers and thought back. "I think you're right."

"Damien's mom has invited Nadia and me to some kind of costume party. Apparently it is a pretty big deal in the Nazario household." Maxwell dropped some pumpkin guts into the trashcan set between them.

"When are Kai and Damien flying in?" She asked.

"A few days before the party." Maxwell glanced up at her. "What are you and Thomas planning to do for Halloween?"

Amanda shrugged her shoulders. "We haven't really discussed it. Most likely stay in. Thomas doesn't strike me as a Halloween enthusiast."

"Huh." Maxwell's brow puckered a moment before devoting his attention to his pumpkin.

Amanda paused. "Huh what?"

"Nothing. I thought I remembered reading somewhere that he loved haunted mazes and houses." Maxwell explained. He looked up at Amanda freezing. The terror flickered in her eyes. "You haven't told him yet, have you?"

She audibly swallowed. "No and I don't intend to ever tell him."

"Amanda, he loves you. He won't think less of you simply because you--"

"Don't say it!" She hissed, shame flooding over her. "I don't want to talk about it."

"But, you--"

"No!" She bitterly interrupted again. "In a few days this blasted holiday will be over and I can relax. Let's just enjoy everything else autumn."

Maxwell's lips parted as if he were about to argue some more then relented when Thomas joined them outside.

He leaned down and kissed Amanda's cheek before sitting next to her. "How's the carving going?"

"Good." Amanda smiled and turned hers around. The scene of a cornfield on a moonlit night was starting to come through. "These patterns Nadia drew up are perfect. I can hardly carve a triangle straight much less anything this intricate on my own."

Maxwell whipped his around, revealing a haunted graveyard. "My wife is literally the best artist on the planet."

"Aww!" Nadia came running up. She kissed Maxwell and plopped down beside him. "Thanks sweetie."

"How are the party decorations going, blossom?" He asked after another kiss.

"Good. Damien and Kai have decided to join us tomorrow to finish decorating. Mrs. Nazario has gone Halloween crazy with all her ideas. I can hardly keep up with her." Nadia studied Maxwell's work and smiled with approval. "I could use a breather from party planning. How about we do something tonight?"

"About that, I have a surprise for us." Thomas announced.

"You do?" Amanda asked, smiling at the excitement on their friends' faces.

He held up a large envelope. "Our plans are in here."

"May I?" Nadia asked, her smile growing with each second.

He handed it over to her when he noticed Amanda's hands were covered in pumpkin.

Nadia ripped the paper and pulled out four lanyards. Her eyes widened. "Universal Studios Halloween Horror Nights!"

Amanda stared in disbelief. Thomas chuckled at her and Maxwell's shock. "We will have the VIP treatment tonight so we can enjoy all ten houses or mazes as they call them."

"That's awesome!" Maxwell exclaimed a little louder than usual in an attempt to divert attention from Amanda's silence. "I've always wanted to go after watching all those videos on YouTube."

Nadia squeezed his arm in a hug. "You will protect me right?"

He grinned. "I dare a ghoul to get near you."

Thomas gently rubbed Amanda's leg. "Are you surprised?"

She nodded. "Very." She cleared her throat and forced a bright smile. "It should be...something."

He chuckled and pressed another kiss to her lips. "Make sure you all wear something comfortable to walk in. I've got a few things I need to finish up before we leave."

Nadia jumped up and told them she was going to take a much needed nap if she was going to scream the night away. Once both spouses were gone the two best friends fell into silence.

Amanda's head hit the table with a thud. "Why? Why did he decide on not only one haunted house but ten?!"

Maxwell quickly wiped his hands on a towel before touching her shoulder. "You have to tell him. There is no way you can get through this by pretending. It's not just ten houses. There are also multiple scare zones you walk through to get to each one."

Amanda's head shot up. "Kill me. I will write a letter exonerating you from the crime. Choose your favorite weapon." She gestured to the different knives between them.

Maxwell rolled his eyes. "Why won't you tell him?"

"Because it is a ridiculous phobia!" She argued. "I know none of it is real. I've known it since childhood. I should be able to come face to face with a mask and not have it happen!"

Maxwell rubbed his hands over his face. "The last time you tried to prove that you no longer had the fear, you nearly passed out from hyperventilating on us and that was a single encounter! You are going to have numerous ones tonight."

Amanda wiped her hands off and shoved away from the table. "I am not revealing it to Thomas. You saw how happy he was. I am not ruining this for him. I don't want to take something he loves away."

Maxwell groaned and dropped his head back dramatically. "Why do you have to be so stubborn? You know you are more important to Thomas than a billion haunted houses. He's going to be upset if you purposely make yourself miserable for him."

"I can't tell him." She mumbled. "Just help me keep it secret. Please." She lifted her eyes to his understanding blue and gave the look he had never been able to refuse.

He covered his face. "Not the eyes!"

She bit back a smile when he promised her. He picked up the garbage can and followed her back into the house. "I don't know how we will keep this a secret, but I will try."

_____________

Amanda could already feel her phobia trying to rear its ugly head as they walked through the entrance. Fog machines had been working overtime to give the place an eerie sense of foreboding. Screams, chainsaw sounds, and growls filled the air.

She had a plan in place. Keep looking down and hold onto Thomas as if he was a lifeline. She could make it through a few hours. She had to. There was no way she was going to allow this phobia that had not only caused her to give up trick or treating at the age of eight to even to this day being unable to walk among costumes cause her to ruin this night.

Thomas smiled softly at her. He thought it was sweet how demonstrative in her affection she was being tonight. Her arms were wrapped around his waist and she had her head pressed against him.

Amanda had lost feeling in her fingers already from gripping his belt loops so tightly. She hoped he still had feeling below the waist because she might need him to carry her limp from fainting body out of here.

Then the creatures came out of the fog.

"It's the first scare zone." Maxwell announced, mostly for Amanda's benefit.

She audibly swallowed and tried to look away. Thomas tugged her toward one of the scare actors. "Extradionary. Look at the amount of detail the makeup artist put into this. He truly looks like a drowned sailor returning to the surface."

The creature leaned down toward Amanda's face and stared into her eyes. She couldn't breathe. Couldn't speak. It finally moved off when she did not respond in any fashion.

Maxwell elbowed her to get her breathing before she passed out. She gasped and mouthed her thanks to him.

Nadia squealed when another drowned sailor came up with a gleaming hook covered in blood. He chased her and Maxwell for a few feet.

"Please. Please. Please." Amanda barely pleaded. "Don't come up to--" she buried her face in Thomas's side and kept her eyes closed.

He chuckled while watching the gait of the actor. "He even moves like one would think a long lost drowned, decaying victim would. They have truly outdone themselves this year with the training."

"Yes, they have." Amanda's voice cracked.

Maxwell and Nadia came back and discussed with Thomas what they should see and do.

"We could get something to eat first." Maxwell held the brochure up to a dim light. "They have mini pumpkin doughnuts, babe."

Nadia's eyes lit with interest. "Definitely after we do a few of the houses."

_____________

Thomas draped his arm around Amanda's shoulders when she tightened her grip on him. They were slowly approaching the first stop for the night. She closed her eyes and moved behind him. She had never been as grateful as she was right now that he was a good bit taller than her. He blocked what they were approaching, she then only had to worry about the sides and back.

He gripped her clammy hands and moved her in front of him. "I don't want to lose you." He whispered in her ear. He softly kissed her neck as they crossed the threshold.

Her eyes flew open. There was no one in front of her. She could see everything. Her heart began to race while her breathing became more labored. She knew something somewhere was going to jump out at her. She studied the atmosphere and managed to ask a question.

"Is...is this a hospital?"

"Looks authentic, doesn't it? Nothing to make one more fearful than being misdiagnosed with insanity." Thomas replied.

"It's a psychiatric hospital?!" Her throat was closing up. She was going to have crazy mask wielding people coming at her.

Thomas jumped with her first blood curdling scream when a deranged orderly appeared out of a dark corridor. He had no idea she could scream like that. There were sound effect technicians that would metaphorically kill to capture that type of horror.

If she had not been nudged forward, she was certain she would have fallen to the ground. When the third jump scare happened with a woman in a straitjacket, Amanda moved quickly behind Thomas. She closed her eyes and pressed her face into his back. Her hands clutched the other as they met around his front.

"Are you alright?" Thomas asked, his voice laced with concern.

"Just keep walking." She managed to say while her breaths became louder. She knew by the flashing lights and screams that something truly horrific was occuring. After what felt like an eternity, she opened her eyes and immediately let out a curse word she never used. They had reached the hospital's morgue where body bags wiggled on bloody slabs.

Thomas whipped his head around in surprise when he heard the word she practically yelled out. They had to maneuver through the tables to exit. One of the bodies sat up and reached for Amanda. Her terrified scream caused the scare actor to pause in surprise.

Amanda began to breathe a little easier when they stepped outside. She assumed it was over. There was one final scare by a doctor covered in blood popping out of the bushes.

She stumbled in shock and fell backwards, hitting Maxwell on the way down.

Thomas quickly knelt down by her. "Are you hurt?" He gently cupped her face, trying to see what if anything was causing her pain.

She debated for a few seconds lying and saying she was in a great deal of pain. He would insist on taking her home and she would be free of this date night. Amanda looked into his eyes and shook her head. "I'm fine." She stood up and brushed her bottom. "Maxwell helped break my fall."

"What else are best friends for?" He teased.

Thomas frowned some when he noticed her keeping her eyes downcast. She quickly edged around the mental patients wandering about. He caught up to her and took her hand. The grip she placed on it caused him to wince.

They were soon walking through a Killer Klowns from Outer Space scare zone. Creepy, distorted clowns ran about, causing screams and laughter.

"I hate clowns." Nadia muttered hiding her face against Maxwell's shoulder. She clutched him tight and let out a few yelps when one scare actor continued to try and get screams out of her.

Amanda closed her eyes as her breathing became more labored. She tried to ignore the noise and chaos. She let go of Thomas's hand to link her arm with his.

He observed her silently while a puzzling frown formed. By the fourth house, he knew something was definitely wrong.

"I say after we do this next one, we get us a treat." Nadia announced. "Pumpkin doughnuts and those waffles from Stranger Things are calling to me."

This house went as the others had. Thomas tried to keep Amanda in front of him so that she wouldn't miss anything and he could hold her. Within minutes of walking, she would duck behind him and keep her face against his back.

Once free and at the half way point of the night, Amanda sagged against Thomas.

"You two go on ahead." He said to Maxwell and Nadia. "There is a set piece I want a closer look at. Amanda and I will catch up to you in a few minutes."

Once the couple disappeared in the fog, Thomas pulled his wife to a deserted spot in the shadows.

She looked up at him and tried to smile. "What was it you wanted to see?"

"I wanted a private moment with you. What is wrong?" He asked.

"Nothing." She quickly replied. "Why?"

"You have barely spoken two words together. You either stare at the ground or have your eyes closed." His frown became fierce. "So I ask again, what is wrong?"

"Nothing." She repeated. She had to get him to stop questioning her and move them out of this area. They were currently in a Walking Dead scare zone. The last thing she needed popping out with her trapped between a building and her husband was a zombie. She could hardly look directly at them on tv. How would she be if she came face to face with one?

"Amanda--" Thomas began.

She let out a breathless scream at what was lumbering behind him. Her breath caught and she started coughing to try and breathe.

Thomas looked over his shoulder before patting her back.

Blackness ebbed around her vision as she struggled against the mental block that was causing her to think her throat was closing up. She sucked in air and coughed out gasps.

Thomas became alarmed listening to her. "Amanda!" He grabbed her before she hit the ground. Her eyes were wide in terror at the number of zombies coming out of the fog around them.

"Let's go." She pulled on his shirt and tried to make her dead legs move. "Please."

Thomas walked her quickly out of the scare zone. They bumped into Nadia and Maxwell, loaded down with sweets.

"We got you the chocolate Stranger Things shake." Nadia pressed it into Amanda's trembling hands. "Look at the little Mind Flayer. How cute is he?"

"Thank you." She quickly looked away from Thomas and took a sip. "It's good."

"Pumpkin doughnut?" Maxwell held the bag out to the couple.

"Amanda," Thomas gently began again. "What is--"

"Yes, please." She quickly stuck her hand and pulled a warm miniature doughnut out. She took a bite and sighed. "These are fantastic."

Maxwell looked down into the bag and cocked an eyebrow. "They must be haunted because there are only two of the dozen left."

Nadia held out the stack of waffles to him. "You know my weaknesses are sweets and you."

Maxwell pressed a kiss to her lips that were coated in cinnamon and sugar. "Good save."

She laughed and offered to get more doughnuts. She glanced at the other couple and stilled. "What's wrong?"

"That is what I am attempting to find out!" Thomas exclaimed. His eyes zeroed in on the silent communication going on between Amanda and Maxwell.

"Maxwell," Thomas said in a deadly serious tone. "Perhaps you can shed some light on this."

Maxwell' blue eyes grew large and he took a cautious step back. His pleading glance collided with Amanda's. She dropped her head in her hands.

"Fine!" She exclaimed. "I suffer with a type of Masklophobia."

"With what?" Thomas asked. He gently brushed her hair over her shoulder before tipping her face up.

"It is a phobia of Halloween masks, costumes, and mascots." She explained. "When I am around them my heart races and my breathing is affected. Panic attacks and sometimes fainting occur." She shamefully covered her face again. "I know it is ridiculous! None of this is real! I've always known it wasn't. A few years ago I made Maxwell paint his face and put a mask on in front of me hoping seeing the steps would break this idiotic mindset. And I still panicked and passed out."

Thomas wrapped his arms around her. "Why didn't you tell me? I would have never made you come to this."

"Thank you! That's what I told her and begged her to do." Maxwell exclaimed.

"I didn't want to ruin it for you, for any of you." Amanda looked at the three of them. "I will be fine if I can keep my eyes closed."

"I'm not going to make you finish the last houses." Thomas looked into her eyes and sighed at the tears building. "You and I can find a restaurant to sit in while Maxwell and Nadia go on. Then--"

"No!" Amanda shook her head and swiped at the stray tears. "I want you to enjoy them. You love this and--"

"And I would rather spend the evening with you." He interrupted while caressing her cheek.

Nadia audibly sighed. "That is so sweet."

Thomas ignored her commentary. "Come on. We--"

"Are going to finish the houses!" Amanda stood up. "Just hold onto me and don't let go. As long as my eyes are closed and you have me, I think I will be fine." She slipped her hand in his warm grasp and lifted pleading eyes to his. "Please. Let me do this for you."

Thomas tried to look away. Maxwell leaned over and shook his head. "Might as well give in, Thomas. Amanda has always been too stubborn."

Thomas ran a hand down his jaw. "The moment you feel your panic rise you tell me so we can get out. Is that clear?"

Amanda's tense shoulders eased and she nodded. "I will."

He grunted in reluctant approval and wrapped his arm around her. "Let's see what is around the corner."

As they approached the next house, she moved behind him and closed her eyes.

Nadia stood behind her and gently patted her shoulder. "Don't worry. Maxwell and I are right behind you. I dare anyone to try anything."

Amanda reached behind her and squeezed Nadia's hand. "Thank you. You don't know what that means to me."

Nadia beamed and stuck close to her, making Maxwell grin at her protective spirit coming out. He slipped his arms around his wife and kissed her when she looked up at him. She smiled and focused on the monsters starting to pop up.

They managed to finish everything with little to no trouble. Amanda continued to keep her eyes closed with each place and focused on slowly breathing in and out. Her face buried within either Thomas's back or side helped keep her calm or as calm as one could be knowing your worst fears were parading around you.

They made it home and talked about all they had seen. Amanda listened quietly to the excited chatter and laughter. Maxwell and Nadia parted from them and went to the newly built guesthouse out back.

Thomas locked the backdoor and then came up behind Amanda as she finished the dishes. She paused when his lips touched her neck. Each lingering kiss made her skin tingle.

"Promise me that you won't keep something like that secret from me again." He whispered in her ear. "Do you think I wouldn't understand?

She sighed and turned in his arms. "It wasn't that. I didn't want to disappoint you or keep you from enjoying something you clearly enjoy."

"I'm never disappointed with you." He pressed a kiss to her lips.

Her eyebrow lifted in frustrated doubt. "Yes, because everyone wants to walk with their spouse plastered against them."

His lips curved. "I might have come up with the idea of going just for that very reason. As much as I hated discovering that I had planned the worst night possible for you, it was nice to discover that you turned to me to keep you safe."

She shook her head with a laugh. "Did you truly enjoy yourself tonight?"

Thomas nodded before taking her hands. "I did and I promise not to make you do this again." He lifted her hands to his lips.

"Thank you." She captured his lips in a tender kiss. Her lips lifted in a teasing smile against his. "Would you like to watch a scary movie?

"Haven't you been tormented enough for one night?" He asked.

"I could press close against you each time I get scared." She nipped at his earlobe. "And not being to watch the scenes with the masked killer would most likely cause me to entertain myself in other ways."

He stilled for a moment. "I will go find us a horror moive."

#choices thomas hunt #rcd thomas hunt #thomas hunt x oc #thomas hunt rcd #thomas hunt x amanda #maxwell beaumont #trr maxwell #maxwell x nadia #pm nadia park #nadia park #halloween #writing prompt

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star-spangled-eyes · 4 years

Text

Winner Take All: Part 8: The Locker Room

Book: The Royal Romance (Alternate Universe)

Alternate Universe Theme: Senior Year of College for Drake, Leo, Bragnae and Madeleine in the United States

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC / Leo Reese x MC (Bragnae Bennett – *pronounced Brawn-yah)

Warnings for this series: NSFW, Adult content, suggestive and strong language, sexual content

Master List

A/N: Another chapter that just flowed… wow. But things are starting to heat up now. I guess that’s why I can’t stop writing this! It’s too exciting for me! I hope you enjoy this one! Thanks for reading!

Warnings for this chapter: NSFW, Adult content, suggestive and strong language, sexual content

Word Count for this chapter: 4582

Setting for this chapter: Bragnae arrives at Drake’s hockey camp and gets to spend a little time heating up the ice with him.

Series Tags: @yukinagato2012 @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @nomadics-stuff @ravenpuff02 @texaskitten30 @themadhatter1029 @randomfandomteacher @queenjilian @princessleac1@seriouslybadchoices

Part 8: The Locker Room

Bragnae arrived at the practice arena fifteen minutes before Drake’s practice was supposed to be over. The drive up went fast with her mind being as occupied as it was. She went over everything Leo told her again and again. It was such a shame he had to endure such heartache before, but he could have turned it around for himself. He could have made a vow not to hurt women the way he was, but for some reason, he felt using them for his needs would be the easiest way around his pain.

Even though he knew he hurt her for what he did, Leo still didn’t know the magnitude in which she suffered from his actions. She was glad she didn’t have time to tell him that earlier, and maybe he never needed to know. But, the fact remained that he hurt her very deeply and ruined his own chance at being happy again.

She turned off the engine of Drake’s truck, grabbed her purse, and headed up the sidewalk to the building. When she walked in, the cool air immediately hit her. It was a small arena, but the ice rink was designed in full regulation. There was only six rows of spectator seats that stretched the length of the rink. It was only on one side of the ice. The other side had two benched areas for the team to fill in, a Gatorade stand and a hallway leading to what Bragnae presumed was the locker room.

There was a flurry of guys fighting for the puck at the far end of the rink. Half were dressed in black jerseys, the others in neon green. The Pit Vipers’ colors were royal purple with a black and green logo of the intimating snake, so their practice jerseys reflected that theme as well.

Bragnae found a seat in the second row at center ice, scanning the bench of players. From what she could tell, none of them were Drake, which meant he had to be on the ice. She didn’t know which color he sported yet, but she did know he was a Defenseman. Somehow, protecting the goalie and helping to block shots from the opposing team fit Drake’s personality.

Finally, the puck broke away as a player sent it sailing down the ice toward the opposite goal. The players hustled down the rink as two guys from each of the teams scrambled to take control of it. The one wearing the black jersey slammed the green jersey player into the boards. They dug in and fought vigorously for the puck until the black jersey player took it, and passed the puck to a fellow teammate.

She caught a glimpse of the back of the black jersey attached to the tall player, and saw the number 22. That was Drake’s number. Their practice jerseys didn’t have their names on it, just their assigned player numbers. Now, she knew where he was.

As the forwards on his team passed the puck between them towards the other net, Drake skated in that direction, but held back in case the other team got ahold of the puck again. Bragnae watched one of Drake’s teammates shoot the puck into the net with ease, and then a whistle sounded.

The players vacated the ice and sat on their respective benches, hydrating themselves as they listened to the coach talk about their performance. Bragnae couldn’t make out his exact words, but that was okay. She kept her eyes on Drake anyway. He leaned his stick against his shoulder as he removed his helmet. His dark hair was completely saturated with sweat. He rubbed a hand over his head before bringing the green Gatorade bottle up to take in more fluids.

Bragnae grew up a hockey fan. Her dad had played when he was younger, so it was engrained in their family. She had fond memories of watching their state’s professional team sitting next to him on those cold winter nights. Her father taught her a lot about the game, which made it easier to watch Drake play and listen to him tell her about his practices and games.

After another minute, the teams rose and starting filing out towards the locker room. She stood and walked over to the boards in front of the first row. Drake noticed her immediately. Even though he was 85 feet away from her – the width of the regulation rink – she could see him smile in her direction. Instead of following his team, he skated back onto the ice and headed towards her.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he observed, smiling brightly at her. There wasn’t any acrylic shielding walls where they stood, unlike a true hockey rink that was surrounded in it, so it was easier to see and hear him.

“Hey, stud. You looked good out there.” She leaned her legs against the polyethylene dasher boards, gripping the top of it as she admired Drake in his gear. His shoulder pads and chest protector made him look even more bulky than he was, and his skates gave him an inch or two of extra height. With sweat beads rolling down his somewhat flushed face, he looked like he’d just been in an intense battle. Technically, that wasn’t far off.

“Thanks. Glad to be done for the day, though.” Drake skated to the edge of the board bringing his stick around Bragnae’s back to guide her to him.

She giggled as she fell forward a bit, bracing herself on his protected shoulders. He smiled as her mouth dropped to his. She could taste the saltiness of the sweat on his lips, and even though his athletic scent filled her nose, she was happy to kiss him in that moment. Drake, showered or un-showered, was irresistible.

A teasing whistle sounded from the opposite side of the rink. Drake laughed as he pulled away to look behind him. “Hey, fuck off!” He shouted playfully before returning his attention to Bragnae. “That’s just my buddy, Chuck. He’s on the same defensive line as me, and I think he’s a little jealous that I get to kiss such a beautiful woman right now.”

“Poor Chuck.”

“Yeah, bad for him, but good for me.” With his hands on the hockey stick that still held her in place, he pulled her towards him for another sweet kiss. “Wanna skate for a little bit? Maybe play a little one-on-one?”

“I didn’t bring any skates.”

“Not a problem.” He dropped his stick from around her, and pointed to the upper far corner of the room. “Go through that door, and there will be a place you can grab some skates. A nice lady named Carla will give you a pair to borrow.”

She patted Drake on the shoulder. “Okay, I’ll be right back.” She grabbed her purse and walked in the direction Drake told her. She wore a long-sleeved lavender sweater and a jean mini skirt. As she walked to the skate rental counter, she wondered how easily she’d be able to move on the ice in her outfit.

Carla had given her the size skates she needed with no charge, but she needed to grab the pair of socks in her tote bag to put them on. She was grateful she thought ahead to bring extra items. A few minutes later, while she laced up her skates, Drake was gliding around the ice casually flipping a puck into the net every so often.

When the skates were secured, she stood and walked over to the boards. Drake joined her in a flash, skidding his skates at an angle on the ice to stop himself.

“I don’t know how well I’ll be able to skate in this outfit, or hop the boards for that matter,” she told him, looking skeptical.

“I’d be happy to help a lady out.” He pulled her closer to the boards and reached over to scoop her into his arms, placing her down on the iced part of the rink.

“Well, that settles that,” she giggled, straightening her clothes.

“We’ve got about thirty minutes before the Zamboni needs to clear the ice. So, let’s skate a little bit and maybe get you a stick to hold.”

Naughty thoughts filled her mind. “Would I get to hold your stick? Because if so, we may want to find somewhere more private for that.”

He glanced at her from the side, shaking his head with that sexy smirk of his. “You have a dirty mind today, Miss Bennett.”

“You know you like it,” she flirted with a wink. “Plus, you kind of set me up with that one.”

He laughed. “So I did. Come on.” He took her hand, and the two of them began skating casually around the rink.

Bragnae couldn’t move too swiftly because the denim skirt restricted her a bit, but she was still able to catch up.

“You’re pretty good on the ice. Did I know that about you?” Drake asked.

She thought for a moment trying to recall if she’d ever skated with him when she visited Drake at his work. “No, I guess you didn’t. I’ve been leisurely skating my whole life. My dad took me skating a lot growing up. He played hockey too.”

“No kidding. What position did he play?”

“He was a defenseman like you. From the stories I’ve heard, he was pretty good. Taught me all I know about hockey.” Bragnae concentrated on crossing her skates over one another to turn with the rink. Drake glided gracefully along with her. It was second nature to him at this point. That was evident by the way he spent most of the time looking at her rather than what was in front of him.

“That’s awesome. If I ever get to meet him, I’m sure we’ll have lots to talk about.” Drake slowed them down and pulled her over to the bench where the team once sat.

Bragnae smiled at the thought of Drake meeting her father. She knew they’d get along great, and that they’d have a lot in common. They were both a little rough around the edges, but kind when it was needed.

Drake procured a shorter hockey stick from the other side of the boards, and handed it to Bragnae. Then, he tossed a few more pucks on the ice for them to play with. She gripped the black hockey stick like her dad taught her to do years ago, and skated out to center ice, dragging a puck with her.

Sliding the rest of the pucks with his stick to the center, Drake dashed off to the net to stand in front of it. “Go ahead, Bragnae. Show me what you can do.”

She scoffed. “You’ll just block all of them. I am way out of my league here.”

He chuckled. “Just give it a try. And keep the shots low. Coach will kill me if I get hit in the head when I should have been wearing a helmet.”

Bragnae pulled a puck in front of her with the stick, and pushed it forward, handling it back and forth until she was closer to the goal. She shot it towards Drake who just stood in place letting it hit the net.

“That was good. Try it again.”

Bragnae skated back to center ice, and retrieved another puck. Taking her time so she wouldn’t stumble, she eventually made her way back to Drake. This time, he took a more defensive stance, bending his knees and bobbing back and forth, as she prepared to shoot the puck. She held firm in front of the net trying to gauge which ‘hole’ she should shoot it towards. There were five distinct gaps a player could shoot the puck through that the goalie’s body couldn’t always protect.

Putting weight on her stick, Bragnae bent forward locking her eyes with Drake. “Where am I going to shoot it, Walker?” She taunted.

He smirked at her. “Why don’t you go for the five-hole – right between my legs?”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” She propelled the puck forward, trying to send it flying through the upper right corner of the net, but Drake blocked it. She didn’t have the power behind the shot to challenge his reflexes. “You’re just too quick for me.”

Drake skated forward to pull her into him. “I think you’re doing just fine. And you look very sexy skating around in a skirt, handling the stick and puck like you are. I could watch you do this all day.”

“Funny, I was thinking the same thing about you.” She gripped the fabric of his jersey and pulled him into a slightly unsteady kiss thanks to the ice below.

His hands slid down to her thighs just below her skirt. “Are you getting cold?”

“A little.” She didn’t anticipate spending a long time in the arena, which made her decide the mini skirt was okay, but now being directly over the ice, she was starting to get chilly.

“How about this? I’ll clean up the pucks and then head to the locker room to take a shower. After you return your skates, you can meet me in there and wait by my locker.”

“Okay, but won’t there be other guys in there getting dressed?” Not that she’d ever turn away from seeing hockey players in any capacity, but she wanted to be respectful of their space.

“Don’t worry about that. You’re a hot female, and they won’t mind. Besides, most of them are probably gone by now anyway.”

“Okay, I’ll see you in there in a few minutes.” Bragnae skated off to the side of the rink she came from, and threw her legs over the boards. After taking off her skates, she gathered her things and went to return them.

She didn’t know an alternative path to the locker rooms, so she walked carefully across the ice in her sandals to get to get to it. After sauntering down the long hallway, she saw a sign for the locker room to the left.

Bragnae hoped the rest of the team had gone so she wouldn’t embarrass them or herself. She wondered why Drake wanted her in the locker room anyway. It just felt wrong for her to be there. If she were on an all-female team, she wouldn’t want some random guy hanging out while the rest of the team got dressed.

Carefully stepping through the spacious locker room, she heard the shower to her right, but couldn’t see anything as she glanced quickly in that direction. Walking into another room, she saw open cubbies that lined the wall. Each of them had a thin dry erase board above with their names written on them. As she made her way over to his locker, she noticed a tall, muscular guy with short auburn hair throw a t-shirt over his chiseled torso. He looked over at her and politely smiled.

She waved nervously at him. “Sorry. Don’t mean to intrude. I’m just waiting for Drake.”

“You’re good,” he told her as he walked in her direction with an arm extended. “I’m Chuck Mulligan. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” she said, accepting his greeting. “Bragnae Bennett.”

“Drake talks about you all the time.” His eyes quickly scanned down her body trying to be discreet, but she noticed anyway. “I can see why.”

“I guess I’ll take that as a compliment. Thanks,” she smiled.

“It definitely is.” He walked back over to his gear, and slung a duffle bag over his shoulder. “Drake should be done soon. Take care, Bragnae.” She waved at him again as he left the locker room.

After a quick glance around, she took a seat on the bench in front of Drake’s locker. The room definitely had the smell of men in it. It wasn’t unpleasant, rather it was sort of comforting. It was a mixture of hard work, sweat, and cologne – the way any man that was worth a damn should smell.

Just as she was about to pull out her phone to pass the time, Drake started walking towards her… wearing just a white towel wrapped around his waist. His hair was still soaked, but this time it was clean. A tendril of his wet hair curled over his forehead, but the rest was combed back. Residual water from the shower made parts of his upper body glisten. He made her heart skip a beat.

Drake walked right up to her, bent down with his fingers tilting her chin up, and captured her lips in a solid kiss. “You look cute sitting here by my locker,” he said before walking around the bench to get to his clothes.

Bragnae spun around on the wooden bench to face him. Just as she did that, Drake removed the towel from his waist and began drying off the few wet spots left on his chest. Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head. Her jaw dropped as she was faced with the side profile of Drake’s very nice looking dick and the curves of his butt. She had only been privy to his nakedness once before during the threesome with Leo, but everything happened so fast that night that she didn’t have time to really indulge in his magnificent features.

“Oh my,” she blushed, but didn’t look away. In fact, her eyes feasted on his physique with absolute hunger. There wasn’t anything about this man she didn’t crave.

Drake gave her a side smirk before handing her the towel. “Here, I think you’re drooling a little.”

Giggling, she snatched the towel from him, and snapped it against his perfectly formed ass. He chuckled reaching for his cologne.

“You really know how to grab a girl’s attention, don’t you mister?” Even now she couldn’t peel her eyes off of him. Her heart thumped in her chest while heat pooled between her legs.

“Am I making you wet?” He asked without hesitation still standing stark naked in front of her.

Excited by his sudden candor, her lips automatically transformed into a salacious smile. “Uh-huh.” She loved how honest they could be with each other. “To be fair, you already kind of got me started watching you play hockey.”

He cheerfully nodded at her response. She bit her lip desperately wanting to touch him all over. From where she sat, she’d be able to take him in her mouth easily as he towered over her with his scrumptious bod. “Why don’t you come a little closer, and let me drag my tongue around that big guy.” His dick twitched at her comment, and she loved it.

Drake exhaled a slow breath, and stepped into a dark green pair of boxer briefs. Bragnae playfully pouted her lips making him laugh when he turned to her again. “Don’t be too disappointed, Bennett.” Then, he threw on a t-shirt and pulled on a pair of light-washed jeans.

Grabbing his hockey stick, he straddled the bench and held it over Bragnae’s head. “Face me on the bench, and then grab this with both hands.”

She was a little confused but did as he said. As soon as she had a comfortable grip on the stick, Drake pushed on it making Bragnae lean back with it. He followed through until her back was flush with the bench. “What are you doing?”

“Stay like that, and just relax.” He kissed her briefly on the lips. The stick rested perpendicular on the bench, and Bragnae let her arms relax while she continued to grip the hockey stick.

Drake brought her legs together again just so he could push up her tight jean skirt. A tingle shot down her spine, not only from his touch, but from the anticipation of what was to come. With the denim pushed up to her waist, Drake hooked his fingers around the straps of her red satin panties and pulled them off. He sat down on the bench, and threw her legs over his denim clad thighs while positioning her just right.

“Now, it’s my turn to use my tongue.” He winked at her before diving his face down to her pussy.

A moan immediately left her body while she slowly twisted her torso, feeling his tongue work wonders against her sensitive skin. Her breathing quickened, and she tightened her calves against his legs. The tension in her body elevated the pleasure she was receiving. Her grip on the hockey stick constricted as he continued.

Drake used his hands to tilt her pelvis up to give himself a better angle. His skillful tongue rounded her clit in slow concentric circles before moving to rapidly flick her swollen bud.

Bragnae arched her back in approval. “Ohmigod, Drake. Don’t stop.” She felt the pressure build quickly leading to what she knew was to be a fantastic explosion of pleasure. Like the trooper he was, Drake kept up that same pace for a few more moments until heaven rippled throughout her body. She sent a flood of cries into the room as he continued to coax more of the orgasm from her depths.

Drake dragged his tongue around her skin, even dipping down to lap at her entrance. She was at complete peace in that moment reveling in the pleasure high he put her in. When Drake sat up, he wiped his mouth and took a deep breath followed by a triumphant smile.

“How was that?” He asked knowing the answer.

She nodded her head still trying to regain her breath. “Amazing. So amazing.”

He patted the side of her leg smiling down at her. “You are so beautiful, and you taste so nice.”

“You always make me feel so good about myself, Drake.” She let go of the hockey stick, and stretched her tensed arms above her head. “Thank you for this.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Now, will you let me return the favor?” She asked still lying flat against the bench. He had slayed her with his tongue, and she was utterly spent.

“I appreciate the offer, but this was all about you today. Plus, it’s better for my training if you don’t.”

“Why? Wouldn’t it be better to release the built up tension?”

“That’s exactly why I shouldn’t. Not having that release helps me to focus on my training more, making me more aggressive on the ice. Being hot and bothered makes for a better hockey player than a happy guy that just got off.”

Her eyes widened as she thought about what he said. “You’re not saying we can’t do this and have sex for the entire hockey season are you?”

Drake laughed. “No, thank God. The coach is deciding the first line for the upcoming season based on our performance here. The guys that get it will see the most time on the ice during the games. To make it fair for everyone, the coach put these rules in place to motivate us while we’re at this camp.” He gently massaged her thighs as he continued. “So, by not giving into my desires, I can train harder and play better during the practice games. I’m not even touching myself.”

Bragnae’s mouth gaped open in surprise. “Wow. It makes a lot of sense when you put it that way, but didn’t this torture you a little bit?”

He looked down at her still widened legs longingly. “Yes. Yes it did.” He sighed before meeting her eyes again. “But seeing you like this now and remembering the taste of you in my mouth will fuel me even more when I’m on the ice this week. Hell, I shouldn’t have even allowed you to visit me, but I wanted to see you.”

Bragnae used what core strength she could find to sit up amidst the incapacitating pleasure that still radiated in her body. She framed his face with her hands as he looped his arms around her back for support. “Did you miss me as much as I missed you?”

“Mmhmm,” he grinned, looking down at her affectionately. “I sure did.”

She smiled up at him. “Will the coach tell everyone who gets the first line by the end of the camp?”

“Yep.”

“Good. Then, when you come back to the university, we’ll have to celebrate because I know you’re going to get it.” She let a hand slide down the muscles of his chest. “And celebrate we will.” She looked up at him through her eyelashes being extra flirtatious.

“I can’t wait.” Drake leaned forward to kiss her. “Wanna grab some dinner?”

“Yeah, I bet you’re famished.” Drake scooted back, so she could more easily untangle herself from him. “Just let me put my panties back on, and we can go.”

Drake chuckled, retrieving them from the floor and tossing her the discarded thong.

Later, after they finished a couple of delicious burgers, they drove back to Drake’s hotel. They got out of the truck, so they could say their proper goodbyes.

“Thanks for letting me come up to see you. It will make this next week a little easier to get through.” Bragnae leaned back against the driver side of Drake’s truck, and he leaned into her.

“I’m glad you did. I needed this little reboot, too.”

“Do you want me to drop off your keys with Leo before you get back?” She needed to mentally prepare for it again if he wanted that.

“Nah, you can hold onto them. The team gets back next Sunday morning, and I’m sure we’ll see each other that day at some point. At least I’m hoping we will.” He stroked her cheek with the back of his finger.

“I’m pretty sure I work the lunch shift that day, but as soon as I’m finished I’ll be coming to see you.”

“Sounds good.” He leaned in for a deep lingering kiss. The cool breeze of the night perfectly complemented the heat between them. “Let me know when you get back tonight.”

“I will.” She pulled him in again, needing to feel his soft lips one more time before she left. “Good luck with the rest of the camp. I know you’ll kick ass and get the first line.”

“I hope so. Thanks, Bennett.” He opened the truck’s door for her, and watched her climb in. She started the engine, and rolled the window down. He looked her over with a smile on his face. “You look pretty good behind the wheel of my truck.”

She gave him a flirty shrug. “Bye, handsome.”

“See ya. And drive safe.” He tapped the door, and stepped back so she could pull out of the parking space.

Bragnae waved once more before driving away. A day that started off more stressful than anything else ended with lovely time spent with Drake. She really liked him, and felt their bond growing with each passing day. When he returned from his camp, it was highly likely they’d have sex. And she was more than ready for that because she wanted to be closer to him now more than ever before. She loved the idea of being his and only his. And she knew it was just a matter of time before they made their relationship status official.

But that also meant she needed to tell Drake about Leo. He needed to know before things turned more serious. Being roommates, would that complicate things for them? Would it somehow make Drake not want to be with her? Only time would tell.

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