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the-silver-peahen-residence · 8 months

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||Inner demon lustful temptation: part 7||

Hello everyone, time for another part to this small mini series sections of it. This time we go to the next couple but lets see what happens in this one hmm? If you wish to read the chapters are below.

~~~~Chapters~~~~~

First couple: Rex and Kali Part one(NSFW part/part two)

Second couple: Jaron and Melinda Part one((NSFW part/part two))

Third couple: Shdwkyz and Vivi/Sai and Isabella part one ((NSFW part/part two))

((Your reading part 7 now))

||Drabble summary||

Sai and Vivi has fallen to their own inner demons but now it seems one one remains: Rust and Breezy. However, is Rust ahead of his own inner demon or will it try to get to him three times harder? Read to find out.

||Warning||

~light NSFW is spoken of in this drabble

~Blood will be present

~Suggestive theme is present

||Guests in Drabble||

Rust Knight along with his inner demon belongs to my amazing Rp partner @demon-blood-youths

Breezy Hurricane along with her inner demon belongs to me.

((Note: Their will be grammar mistakes and errors in this drabble as others have this warning. But like I state before, this is written for fun. So I hope you like it and my friend too. Enjoy))

Both the fractions the Curses Vixens and the DBT were meeting up but they were not expecting to see this. Shdwkyz was looking away even if he was wearing his civilization outfit but he wishes he was wearing his other attire. Or at least to hide his red flush face. Thanks to it, everyone could see that Vivi was wearing her hood more but Jinx was playing around when her hood got pulled back showing her neck. And the mating mark. Shdwkyz's mating mark.

"....Girls, if your going to stare it's rude to." Vivi mutters as Echo was shocked seeing a white snake on her neck around a purple rose. The white snake had yellow serpentine eyes just like Shdwkyz did.

"So it was true, the snake did mark you! Geez, what is going on!?" Echo said but Melinda blinks while looking to Vivi. She didn't say anything but her cheeks were flushed pink.

"......"

"Why are you asking questions to know?" Vivi asked Echo who was glaring at her. Of course she would ask since this was weird but she already told Shdwkyz to be sure he takes good care of her! Even with the female teammates talking, this leaves Shdwkyz to sigh.

Jaron looks but he was seeing Shdwkyz say nothing while he was hiding his face using his scarf. "Let me guess; you heard a voice too that was your inner demon as well?" he asked with Sai looking to him.

"Yes. Seems my inner demon is annoying but after a while, it went away or was silenced. Seems Rust was right..." he said with Rust looking to them.

"I told you.." he said. "Your inner demons are surfacing again and now this is just weird......" he sighed but both Jason and Shdwkyz looks to him. "So our inner demons also have the chance to come showing themselves to help us out as well?" he asked but this made Rust blink.

"Help out?" he asked.

"Yeah. The inner demon took form of both me and Vivi and It did something to us before we....well you know. I figure it was due to what they tell us but I could be wrong." he said looking at Rust who was not expecting that. The inner demons can do that!?!

"Thanks to that, we got taken and lost to our 'inner demons' now it seems you were right Rust. But after all that, they are still there but laying dormant now......" Jaron said to sigh but Rust was quiet knowing Rex was always checking on Kali to be sure she was fine. She was but still, he wanted to be sure.

"That explains a lot now but that's new." Rust said with arms crossed.

"Well, even so, seems you and Vivi are mates too." Jaron said to Shdwkyz blushing worse to look away.

"Seems so. Though, I didn't want that inner demon's help. I would have made her my girlfriend/mate by myself and-" As he speaks, he sees the two look at him that he just stops talking. "Nevermind..."

"Anyway, it seems all of us are caught but..this means you better keep your guard up Rust." Jaron said but Rust knew that. So from all that, it seems the remaining couple was Rust and Breezy. He made sure she was alright and safe in case even if she also made sure he was alright too. Even if he didn't hear his yet, he didn't want that inner demon to do anything stupid. Even when it came to his girlfriend Breezy.

"Yeah, thanks for telling me."

~~~~~~Later on in two weeks~~~~~~~

Breezy and Rust were just done sparring together while drinking some water. They were trying to increase their stamina in a match and it seems to be going well so far plus it was working. It's been helping from their last few matches and they were getting stronger.

"So with the team attack, I was thinking somehow we can do some sort of punching and kicking type of move. Using Destoryer and you moving me with your wind. I mean, it sounds pretty close right?" Rust was explaining some ideas with Breezy listening.

"I understand and those sound like a good idea Rust. I mean, same with you using and fighting with Destroyer but I can keep you protected from behind while we are in sync. It's perfect!" she smiled as the two laugh loving the idea.

"Maybe after we can even try something else but we can think of more later on I think. But how are you healing up? Still alright?" He asked but Breezy smiled to look and see the bruises on her has already healed.

"No worries, I'm good. All healed up and you too I see?" she saw his own demon blood healed him up pretty good. Though, they were good so it helps. "Yeah, I'm good too! Say, after this what should we do? Another round of training?" he asked.

"We could if you like. How about another sparring match!?" she said standing up to stretch again but Rust laughed seeing that as he stood up too.

"Sure, You know i won't take it easy on ya."

"Same here. Be sure you don't hold back on me." Breezy winks to him that Rust felt his cheeks heat up only to snicker, punching her arm lightly as she sticks her tongue at him in a playful way. These two always loved to have fun and train so another battle will happen. While they were training, Rust couldn't help but stare at her.

Breezy was always different from other type of girls or maybe it was how she does things. She always loves to fight, play video games, have fun, fight to protect what she cares for and fight with and for him. She was someone dedicated to prove she will fight for her beloved Knight and it made him fall in love with her even after the other times they were alone.

From the dates they went on, to crazy missions with their fractions, even solo missions together. They been hanging out a lot more and more and it shows. That made him remember those intimate moments making him blush worse to look away.

'Geez, even from now I still tend to think about that. Tch, well, even with those moments they were special...even when we first did it.' he thought remembering the first time they done it and he was happy that she and him are together. However, he still remembers how she was that night.

A beautiful little vixen laying under him as he gave slow yet soft kisses to her lips, her skin was warm and he always loved to make her shiver under him. Hearing the soft and sharp breaths slip past even when she was beg him or plea with him. It was too arousing not to. And that moment when being one with her........

Thinking about it made him bit his bottom lip but as he was trying not to over think it......

'So you do still remember. And here I thought you forgot.' a voice speaks to him that made him tense up. Shit. shit. shit. shit! He looks left and right as Breezy was still stretching but Rust knew it. Damn it...

He turns his head to see another him but he smiled with arms crossed, his blond hair covering his face but one blood red eye looking at him. 'Hello again, Rust. We meet again don't we?' his inner demon was back and Rust glares.

'What the hell do you want? I'm not here or in the mood for your shit..' he warns only for the inner demon to hold his hands up chuckling.

'Now now, I'm not here to cause trouble to you...yet. I just was happy to see you remembered the precious moments between you and our....hurricane vixen. I thought you forgot about them but it seems I was right. You were always thinking about them as much as you were thinking about her.' he looks to Rust as he glares looking back. He looks to Breezy who was not known of this but faces his inner demon again.

'So what? That's between me and her. So why don't you fuck off and leave us alone? I'm not going to let you ruin our hang out day today with anything you have planned.' he said but the inner demon looks at him saying nothing.

'As I said I won't be a naughty demon or anything. I'm not that heartless. I would NEVER harm our precious hurricane. I know how much she means to you....besides, why else do you think I always cherished her own inner demon..' Rust blinks when hearing that. Hold on...

'Her inner demon? What did you-'

'Don't tell me you didn't know? Breezy has one idiot as any other demon would. That means I was able to..hmmmmm experiment to see what makes her tick and I will say...she is so fucking cute when she's a whimpering mess. I enjoy the playtime we do even when it's in her own dreams...' he smirked but Rust closes his fist but he shook his head. Calm down, just calm down. He always told himself this but his inner demon was close making Rust tense.

'What? I could explain our little play dates at night but her dreams are nice too. Such a perfect little sweetheart for us. A vixen of the wind....' he leans in closer to look at him. 'Her inner demon is a very naughty wet little pet for us to make her ours over and over as we claim and mark her..and I will say this. Her blood is delicious; sweet with a little smooth feeling when I got the chance to bite her. She moans so sweetly for me when I tease and play with her....makes you wonder about it huh?'

"!??" No no no! What the hell was he doing? Rust closes his eyes to clear his head but his inner demon chuckled more to see. He knew he thinks about Breezy as she did with him but he already was making it hard for Rust not to-

"Rust? Hey, Rust you alright?" He snaps out of it hearing Breezy's voice. He looks to her seeing the worried expression on her face and arms crossed over her chest. Yeah, she was worried now for him to sigh.

"Ah! Sorry sorry! I'm alright Breezy don't worry. Sorry about that." he said rubbing the back of his head but she blinks still worried to frown a little.

"Are you sure? You zoned out for a minute there." she said wanting to be sure.

"Yeah yeah, I'm alright sorry about for worrying you." he said as he gently kissed her cheek. Breezy said nothing but she sighed to nod, smiling.

"Alright. I just wanna be sure. We could take a break if you think we done enough-"

"No no, I'm up for it." he said but Breezy sighed and goes to get ready to their position but the inner demon was watching him still chuckling.

'Damn you fucking..' Rust thought but he was shaking his head trying to clear it.

'Good luck trying to ignore that image Rust...I can make it worse the more you ignore it...I think you'll love it..' he tease but Rust ignores his inner demon to go and get ready for the sparring match. This was going to be fun.

For that afternoon, Rust and Breezy did have their sparring match together. Him and her being on even terms with her winning some and him winning some. Seems both were in the game when they train. However, in the half of it, Breezy noticed something off. Rust seems flushed and he looked distracted. At times when fighting, she sees herself getting easy hits but Rust would always dodge or so.

He even staggers while she was fighting him to make her stop when he noticed. "Huh? What's wrong Breezy?" he asked.

"Rust, something is wrong. You been letting me get hit after hit. Are you alright? Are you distracted by something?" she asked as he blinks to shake his head.

"No no, I'm fine. I'm not distracted by anything." He said but she looks worried now.

"But you seem to be. You've been zoning out for some reason and I don't know what is wrong. If something is wrong you can tell me you know." True, he could but he didn't want to tell her his inner demon is provoking him and sending him very lewd dreams about what he does to her inner demon and all that. It didn't help!

"......."

"Rust? if something is wrong you can tell me..please. I'm here if you need to vent." She always would be here to help her boyfriend but Rust looks quiet while ignoring the deep laughter of his inner demon.

"......*Sighs* Really Breezy, I'm alright. Don't worry. I hope I didn't worry you too much..maybe we should stop training and chill. I mean, I am pretty hungry so how about we get some food!" he said trying to sound happy while starting to head back with Breezy blinks to see that. She felt something was wrong and yet, she follows after getting her water bottle to follow or catch up.

As the two were heading back, Rust's inner demon smiled following while knowing this was going to be fun. Later on, Rust and Breezy were chilling now after eating some food and just relaxing while he was leaning back with Breezy washing up in the bathroom since he offered. However, he was trying to stay calm and clear minded even with him running his fingers through his hair.

'What's wrong now? Still angry at the little images I gave you?' Oh damn it. Rust groans but saw his inner demon again.

"Will you just fuck off already? Leave me be...." he said but the inner demon smiled.

'You know i can't since I'm you. Don't be so fucking stubborn. I thought you would like the images I share in that mind of yours. I know you find Breezy cute and even hotter if she was a weak wet mess for you to have as your own.....though, seems like I might have gotten a bit ahead.' he said to tease only for Rust to glare.

"Hey, I-"

'I know, I know. I mean of her inner demon. She's such a naughty little vixen true. Or didn't you like the image of what she is like. She's such a loud moaner to say the least and even with me marking that skin of hers..I know you feel the same way with your version of her. Or am I wrong? Why not just let loose. The others have so what's stopping you?' he teased.

".........You son of a-"

'It's true. I know it is. I know you would enjoy that little time of playing with her. To feel and savor that feeling with her and needing her. Right? Wouldn't it be nice..just to kiss and bite every inch of her. To let her drown in the pleasure of lust?' he was getting on Rust's nerves now but he just looks away not saying anything. That made the inner demon smile. 'I see. Seems you want to ignore it. Does this means she's not-'

"No. Breezy is my girlfriend but your just trying to provoke me. I'm not going to break so you get some kick out of this." he said only for the inner demon to laugh.

'Me? If I recall, I'm YOU. Meaning you have such naughty heated dreams of your girl. What makes you think this is different? You love her and have claimed her but..something tells me you enjoy seeing her under you. Under your touches while you bite and claim her as yours.......you don't have to lie..' he chuckled.

"Who says I'm lying!?" Rust said but his inner demon smirked to look.

'You are lying to yourself. You always wanted to see her weak under you as you be gentle with her but still mark her as yours....don't believe me? Then maybe you need a example....right my dear?' he said making Rust confused before seeing another inner demon form but his eyes widen while seeing another but that one was female.

She was floating by him, her dark brownish hair floating around her form. Her delicate appearance looked cute only to show a collar on her neck. She had gunpowder blue eyes that glowed but the dark mist around her was hiding most. Rust's eyes widen to show that was Breezy's inner demon!!

"B..but how the hell did you..w..when did you-"

'Easy. When you took Breezy as your own, her inner demon became mine. And I will say, you're lucky. This little pet vixen is so cute even if I am like you. I always want to protect her..' his fingers touch her cheek as she was resting her head on his shoulder. 'Even when it means I can make her happy as you do with her real self..but tell me, you really wouldn't want to have your way with her in a more heated moment? She is ours remember..and I will say this; her inner demon loves when your rough with her..don't you my dear?' he teased but the inner demon slowly blushed while nuzzling against his shoulder making Rust confused to look away.

"You...You fucking.." he didn't want to seem weird but he only heard his inner demon laughing a bit.

'But it's true. I always have fun messing with her and playing with her. She loves it....even if your always gentle and sweet, I get it. I love when she is so cuddly and sweet...but don't you ever want to be rough with her while you mark...claw..and tease her? Look, she's even excited herself...' he said but Rust got annoyed.

"Are you seriously trying t-" he tenses up when looking at his inner demon but stops speaking. He sees him now seeing her kissing him but she was feeling his inner demon touching and holding her that Rust was silent to look away but he heard the kissing even the whimpering she lets slip out before the kiss breaks. He can hear her whimpers now as his inner demon was chuckling. His fingers were pushing in and out of her already hearing her whines again.

'See? She's so cute..so precious..and she's ours. She's already such a good girl....makes you wonder just what you can do. I remember you wanted to make her feel good but still show how badly you love her right?'

"S..shut u..up.."

'Or maybe you would rather like to see her under you as you finger her slowly?' he said, still moving his fingers while his own destroyer coated in that same dark energy runs down inner demon Breezy's chest as she twitched biting her bottom lip. Even drawing some small drops of her blood.

"S..shut up damn it. Shut up stop.."

'You know you wish to Rust..you want her. You wish to be able to claim her as much as you can being gentle and rough at the same time. So why not let go..and just embrace it.' he said fingering her deeper as she gasped twitching to see she was wet going to cum it seems. This got Rust excited but he was closing his eyes only to grip the chair while remaining quiet. He grits his teeth now trying to stay sane.

'See? You can hear her voice, the sounds...just give in..Give in damn it. Let us calm what is rightfully ours.' he said as Breezy's inner demon was moaning out about to cum.

'C..cumming...g..gonna cum..please..please I...' she was holding back trying not to cum as Rust's inner demon was still going rough with her.

'Heh, then cum....go ahead and let it all out...' he teased holding her as she was about to. She wanted to cum while clawing his arm with her head thrown back. Rust knew and remember those moans, knowing she was drawing close.

"St..stop, stop stop stop stop......"

As she was getting close......

"Damn you stop!!" Rust shouts out loud but he opens his eyes to see they were gone. He covers his face but he heard the door open quickly to rush in the room.

"Rust!? Rust, what's wrong? Did something happen!" he looks up but he wished he didn't. Breezy was standing in front of him but he did remember she was still taking a shower before hearing his shout or she just got out. She was now standing there in a towel dried but her hair was wet looking worried.

".........." he had a nosebleed seeing her like this to look away but was flushed red. "Br..Breezy, what the heck-"

"I came because you were shouting. What's wrong!? Did something happen?" she asked now really worried to look at him worried but he didn't look at her already being able to see.

"N..No, nothing's...." She was even more different but this got his own demon blood boiling. His mind was hazy now but he was trying to calm down.

'See? Your seeing her in this form....why not just take what you desire? She's yours isn't she?....she is.......' his inner demon was speaking again right in his ear but in a tone that was annoying to him. But another voice speak.

'I..It's okay.....I don't mind it Rust....p..please...please make me yours..' it was Breezy's own inner demon! She was speaking but even looking flushed.

'What the hell is...I.....I shouldn't..I can't..I....'

'It's f..fine...please....I'm yours Rust...please........' her inner demon was even touching his cheek but he saw her own glowing gunpowder blue eyes looking at him. Lovingly and with care. She loved him and he only was flushed. She even whispers in his ear.....

'You can b..be as rough as you want with me. M..Make me weak, please....I'm begging you please...'

"....." Rust said nothing but Breezy was unsure what was happening only to slowly reach to touch his cheek. "R...Rust? Can you hear me? Hey, your zoning out on me again..what is the-" she started to ask what is going on but suddenly sees Rust takes her wrist in his human hand to make her blink.

"????" Before asking, she sees him slowly got up but gently pulls her to the bedroom without a word. This was weird but she saw him walk into the room and open the door before pulling her inside and closing the door.

The inner demons were silent but his inner demon smirked while petting Inner demon Breezy's head. 'Now, the fun begins..' he said while petting his mate. This was going to be a wild night.

#IC #silver roses #Drabble/short or long stories #silver butterfly mun #peahen mom #the mansion owner #Inner demon lustful temptation: part 7 #Rust knight #older Rust #Breezy hurricane #older Breezy #The fractions of NYC #demon-blood-youths #peahen writer #inner demon lust au

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miss-mouse · 2 years

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By Sea and Sand

Sophie has it all planned out. After all spending a quiet day on the beach shouldn't present too many interruptions, right? But maybe she has jinxed herself because by the sea and sand nothing ever goes as planned.

After adding yet another layer of suntan lotion, Sophie stretches out on the blanket, then eyes the script sticking out of her bag, before she sighs and pulls out the tome. It is her excuse for spending the whole day on the beach after all. Because, despite the fact that the city where she has chosen to spend her holiday is small - at least compared to where she lives - it still has far too many temptations, ideal for procrastination… Especially when she should be focusing on learning her role for the upcoming play and not on shopping.

Although, she thinks as she watches a man diving into the waves to catch a Frisbee thrown by a kid, the beach does come with its own versions of temptation. She shakes her head, because no matter what else she might do – she does not go after men who are obviously already involved with someone else and this guy looks very taken. Unfortunately, whispers that same nagging voice, but she shuts it down firmly.

The family had shown up about thirty minutes ago. The kids, who appear to be the same age, (if she had to guess she would say that they are twins) had wasted little time in dragging the man towards the waves, making the woman laugh when he turned around and chased them instead.

An hour later, she has to start over on the same page for the fourth time. Despite her every intention (and promises to herself about the next time being the last time) she hasn’t managed to read nearly as much as she had hoped for. Her attention has wandered far too often, making her read the same lines more than once. She would like to blame it on anything else, but it is pretty much her own doing – too distracted by surreptitiously watching him.

Right now, he is in the ocean (again) tossing one of the kids into the water, based on the peals of laughter it sounds like it’s the girl, and when the woman yells something about being careful, he turns to salute her. For one absurdly long second Sophie wishes for a pair of binoculars, to get a better view of the water running down his body, before she shoves the thought away, angry with herself for not being able to push him out of her mind.

Taken, she tells herself sternly. Everything points to him being taken, and therefore off limits – now focus - or you will end up looking like a fool when you begin rehearsals next week.

Bending her head, she focuses on the page again and for once, her brain complies. In less than two paragraphs, she is sucked into the world playing out on the pages before her, until she feels a spatter of water on her shoulder, which startles her out of the scene where Romeo is hanging off Juliet’s balcony.

”What’cha reading?”

Looking up from her manuscript Sophie meets the eyes of a young girl. Blinking, she realizes that it’s one half of the twins, whose father she has spent far too much time watching.

“It’s a script.”

The girl’s eyes widen at this.

“Like a movie? Are you an actress?”

“Not a movie, no.”

“That’s not an answer,” is the canny reply from the girl, and Sophie chuckles.

“It’s a play,” she concedes, then lifts up the tome to show the girl the front of it; enjoying the way her mouth forms the words emblazed on the paper before her eyes widen again and she plops down on the sand next to Sophie with a giddy sound, uncaring about the sand going everywhere.

After discreetly brushing the sand off the pages, Sophie sits up. The girl is busy tracing lines in the sand with her finger, while sending the occasional longing look towards the booklet now resting in Sophie’s lap.

“We were supposed to see that last year, but we couldn’t go…”

The kid looks so mournful, that Sophie instantly feels bad for her, even though she has no idea why they could not go – or even where they had been supposed to go. The suddenly uncontrollable urge to soothe, is the only possible explanation for the words coming out of her mouth in the next second.

“Maybe you get a chance to come see it this time?”

In the back of her mind, she calls herself an idiot for making such a foolish suggestion, considering that not only is the premiere way off, it is also a vastly different version than Shakespeare’s original play. And while The Playhouse is a respectable theater it is not Broadway. The kid, however, nods enthusiastically, her expression clearing for a second, before she bites her lip, looking deep in thought.

“It depends on dad though…”

“Ria?”

Both of them look up at the sound of the firm voice and every ounce of control Sophie has, goes into not sucking in a quick breath at the sight that meets her eyes. Because oh dear god and bloody hell… at a distance she had thought him handsome, but with only a few meters between them, he is … striking, she thinks.

Sun-kissed skin, broad shoulders and a compact upper body (with a few scars that seem to work in his favor rather than take away from how solid he looks), droplets of water creeping down his abdomen into already wet shorts that reveal well-muscled thighs. On her second pass, she spies an earring glimmering amongst the long hair tousled by the ocean and curled by the warmth, before her eyes are caught by his, which makes the rest of the world fade around them.

The heat in them is … intense to say the least, and she can’t stop the shiver that rushes down her spine at the slow way his gaze travels over her. Despite the voice hollering at the back of her mind that she should have more self-control than this, she still feels her body respond embarrassingly fast to what she reads in his eyes, when their gazes clash again.

In the next second several things happen at once. A beach ball lands in the sand between them, which makes her blink in surprise and rather efficiently breaks their eye contact. A heartbeat later, two dogs appear from somewhere to the right of Sophie, both of them tackling the man to the sand, which makes the girl jump to her feet.

At first, Sophie thinks it must be out of fright, especially considering one of the dogs is as big as a small horse and the other one looks a lot closer to a wolf than a dog. However, all the kid does is whirl around, once again sending a spray of sand raining over Sophie (and her script) and then, with a deafening shout of “DADDY!”, run in the direction of where the dogs came from.

Daddy? Is all she manages to think before the other kid comes racing by her as well, which - for the third time in the span of minutes - sends sand flying everywhere. He doesn’t react to the man lying in the sand being mauled by the dogs either, too busy echoing his sister’s exuberant shout. This time drops of water, hitting both her and the still open playbook, accompany the sand, which makes her curse, then hurry to brush it off before it leaves too many stains behind.

Preoccupied with saving her script, she doesn’t notice the wet nose until it brushes over her thigh, followed by a tongue. The noise she makes is at least a squeak and, if she is honest, it is probably a lot closer to a squeal. Looking to the side, she realizes it is the wolf-like creature; and pushing on it is just as effective as if she had tried pushing her car. There is a little frizzle of something, and while she has never been afraid of dogs, regardless of their sizes, the enthusiastic way it is licking away at her skin admittedly makes her more than a little nervous.

There is a sharp two-toned whistle and immediately the tongue disappears. Following the dog with her eyes, she looks up and meets the blue eyes of the man who might not be the kids’ dad after all. He is on his knees, scratching the wolf-dog behind the ears, murmuring something to the beast that she doesn’t catch, before their gazes lock again.

There is a hunger flashing in his eyes, and without a reason to control herself, she holds his gaze while she stretches her legs. His gaze sharpens even further and without thought, she rubs her thighs together, which makes him suck in a harsh breath.

Another sharp whistle pulls his gaze away from her, and she blinks feeling beyond stunned as the rest of the world comes rushing back. She can’t remember the last time she has responded this way to a man. There is yet another of those whistles and the other dog, the one that is the size of a small horse, who is lying docilely next to him, stretches lazily, then trots off to the right. They both watch it go, before he looks at her again, sending her a soft smile.

“I’m sorry …”

“Sophie.” Her first name, the one she seldom uses – especially with virtual strangers - tumbles out before she can stop herself, and when he sends her a warm smile, correcting her mistake is the furthest thing from her mind.

“… Sophie.” The way he says her name (it startles her a little at how intimate it feels) wakes the storm of butterflies she thought long dead. Butterflies that immediately decide to take up residence in her stomach. He stands, trying to brush some of the sand off his body - her eyes follow every pass of his hands - before he shrugs with a grin, then steps closer. “You mind if I sit down?”

“Only if you tell me your name?”

“Just my name, are you sure you don’t want anything else as well?”

A raised eyebrow accompanies his words, along with a smirk, which sends the butterflies on another whirlwind tour, and she smirks back.

“Your name is enough…” She looks him up and down slowly, before meeting his eyes again, the heat flaring in them echoes deep in her. “For now.”

He chuckles then, a sound that warms her blood to the point of boiling, as he moves to sit down opposite from her and on his knees again. A move that gives her an excellent view of his broad shoulders and muscular thighs, and she sends the sun, which has already put enough color in her cheeks to hide her blush a kind thought. Once he is settled into a comfortable position, he holds out his hand for her to shake.

“It’s nice to meet you, Sophie, I’m Eliot.”

She takes his hand and when she looks up to meet his eyes, the world around them, yet again, seems to fade to the point of being non-existent. His palm is warm against hers, his thumb feels a little callused when it strokes over her skin, the touch immediately makes her wonder how his fingers will feel on other parts of her body. The thought of it sends another spike of arousal racing through her veins and she shivers again.

A wet nose pushing at their still joined hands breaks the moment, which makes him chuckle. His thumb sweeps over her skin again and despite being a grown woman, used to flirting, used to attention and bloody well used to the combination of the two, she still feels color rise in her cheeks at the crooked smile he sends her, before he slowly pulls his hand away.

“And this beast,” he tugs affectionately at one of the ears, before scratching behind it. “… who usually has better manners…” a mock glare at the dog accompanies the words and if a dog can look unimpressed, this one surely does, which makes her giggle, “is Akela.”

Akela? The unusual name rings a bell, but it takes her a moment to figure out why.

“From the Jungle Book,” she realizes, then smiles when Eliot scratches the back of his neck with a sheepish smile.

“Yeah.” He shrugs. “It was their idea,” he waves an arm in the direction of where the kids had run off. “Although I usually blame their dad, considering he’s the one who read them the damn book in the first place.”

“Well, he…?” She looks questioningly at Eliot who nods with a quick grin. “… he certainly looks very wise.”

Whether he knows she is talking about him or not, Akela turns his head to look at her. His eyes are almost the same striking blue as his owner and when he tilts his head to study her, she chuckles.

Reaching out, she intends to scratch him behind the ear like she had just seen Eliot do, but Akela pushes her hand away and the next thing she knows he is burrowing her nose in the middle of her cleavage, which again makes her squeak.

“No! Akela!”

She is not exactly sure how it happens, but before she can do more than blink the dog is gone. Instead, she finds herself reclining on the sand with Eliot on top of her.

The world immediately narrows to just the two of them and to the sensations washing over her. His fingers flexing against her hips. He smells faintly of coconut, but behind it… The scent of him, skin warmed by the sun, makes her mouth water quicker than if she has eaten one of those sour drops she used to love as a child. His blue eyes turns almost onyx, and against her thigh, she feels him harden.

There is a voice screaming in the back of her mind, about this being a public beach, that anybody can see them, to push him off of her. Moving her hands from where they are currently clenched in her blanket, she means to do just that, but the instant they come into contact with his warm skin, her hands develop a mind of their own. Because she finds herself running her fingertips all over his broad shoulders instead, tracing a scar she finds near his left collarbone, before moving around to his back.

He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, then shifts his body a little, presumably to move off of her. She grips his shoulders tighter in response, as an odd mix of surprise and desperation race through her and his eyes pop back open. The heat burning in them, makes her lick her lips before she is even aware of doing it, and he groans. Something races through his eyes, far too quick for her to follow before he exhales slowly, then bends his head and kisses her.

At the first sweep of his tongue against her lips, she whimpers. At the second, she deepens the kiss, moaning at the taste of him. When his tongue curls around hers, her thighs fall open purely on instinct, and she shifts, in a subconscious attempt to get him closer to where she is suddenly aching.

His fingers flex on her hips again - one of them tangles in the string of her bikini-bottom - and he mumbles something against her lips. Dimly she registers it’s her name interspersed with a curse or two, before he pulls away, sitting back up in a swift move that leaves her feeling more than a little dizzy.

Suddenly feeling both exposed and uncomfortably aware of the fact that she barely knows this man, Sophie sits up slowly. Reaching for her over-sized beach bag, she grabs her T-shirt off the top of it and tug it on, then pulls her legs under her.

The silence between them feels both awkward and loaded, and in her head, Sophie scrambles furiously for something to say. Looking around for a potential topic, she notices Akela. The dog is lying nearby, with his front paws resting on the edge of the blanket, head in the direction of where the children had run off to. As she watches him, he lifts his head a little, ears twitching in every direction, before he relaxes again.

It should be all kinds of impossible, she thinks, but the expression on his face as he lays his head back on his front paws looks positively smug.

“I uhm…” At the husky note in his voice, her attention veers sharply back to Eliot and he clears his throat before he continues. “I know that this is really ass-backwards, but would you like to have dinner with me?”

“Yes.” She is not sure which one of them is most surprised at her quick answer, but the smile he sends her is pleased and crooked and completely distracts her from any embarrassment she feels at her quick reply. “I’d love to.”

“Great.”

He sends her another one of those smiles and while there is a voice in the back of her mind that tries to remind her that she is definitely not looking for something serious, she shrugs it off. It is just the one dinner after all – it's not like it has to be anything more than that, right?

* * *

Months later, as she watches the movers handle her antique dresser, she feels Eliot's arms encircle her waist, pulling her close against him.

"So is this the ‘more’ that dinner wasn't leading to?" he murmurs in her ear. She can hear the smile in his voice and a smile stretch across her lips in response.

“No,” She turns around in his arms, and kisses him - leaving them both breathless - before she pulls back to look in his eyes. “It’s just the beginning.”

#eliot spencer/sophie devereaux #eliot spencer #sophie devereaux #leverage #first meeting #meet cute #alternate universe

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motownfiction · 2 years

Text

how long must i dream?

After Sadie takes the pregnancy test, she hands it to Sam without looking. The temptation to read it is excruciating, but she’s tough. They get back in the car and take off. Sam drives, and Sadie tells him where to go. After about a minute, Sam figures out where he’s going. He turns the volume down on “Summertime Blues” and talks to her again.

“Did you know one of the very first heavy metal songs is a cover of this one?” he asks.

Sadie nods.

“The one by Blue Cheer,” she says. “I know you.”

Sam grins and comes to a stop at the light.

“Yeah, you do,” he says. “And I know you. Which is why I don’t know why we’re headed to the mall right now.”

Sadie looks out the window and sighs.

“Maybe I want to see a movie,” she says. “The Lost Boys looks good.”

“You don’t want to see a movie.”

“Well, then, maybe I want a slice of pizza. All that Sbarro’s not gonna eat itself. Besides, if I’m pregnant, I’m gonna have cravings.”

“You don’t like Sbarro. You like Pizza Hut. Everybody knows that.”

“Mom didn’t like pickles until she was pregnant with Charlie. Now, she looks just like the Vlasic stork. It happens to the best of us. Some of the worst of us, too.”

Sam sighs. He’s not sure what to do. He feels like he should be an expert at unexpected pregnancies. Not just through Steph’s scare two years ago, but after watching Lucy and Will when they were in high school. But that wasn’t the same. It wasn’t happening to Will in the same way it might be happening to Sadie. And at the end of the day, Will’s not Sam’s twin sister. If it’s happening to Sadie, then it’s happening to Sam. That’s the way it’s always been.

“Look, I don’t know if this is the best thing to say or the best thing to do,” Sam says slowly. “But, uh. If it’s true, and you’re … you’re right about this. What do you want to do? What do you want to happen next?”

Sadie laughs to keep from crying. If only Sam knew how often she’s thought of this. Then again, maybe he already does. He’s always been good at predicting her next steps. They’re his next steps, too. No matter what.

“Every time I think I’m coming to a decision or a complete thought, I let go of it,” Sadie says. “It’s like I’m afraid it’ll jinx it if I let myself … talk about it or even think to the end of a sentence. But I … I do think about it.”

“I know,” Sam says.

“You know?”

“Sure I do. You’re the prepared twin. You’re always thinking at least two steps ahead.”

“And what about you?”

“Me? Oh, I’m thinking thirty-seven steps ahead. Of course, by the time I get to where I’m going, I’m so far away from where I started, I can’t even remember why I left the house.”

Sadie laughs (for real this time). Sam knows how to turn her worries into air better than anybody else, even their parents. If it’s true, and she’s about to have a baby, she hopes the baby is a lot like Sam. The best brother in the world is bound to be the best uncle.

“I think I want to have the baby,” Sadie says. “Not think. I know. I know that’s … I know that’s a lot, but I think … I think being a mother is right for me, no matter when it falls in my lap. I know myself well enough to know that. I think … I think Daniel would be good with that, too. He wants a family. We’ve talked. I don’t think we thought it would happen before we finished college, but for a while, Daniel didn’t even think he would go to college. So he knows anything can change. And I think …”

But she doesn’t finish the sentence. This time, it’s not even because it scares her. A slow smile spreads out across her face. Sam merges into the left turn lane to get to the mall.

“You think what?” he asks. “Sadie? Are you not letting yourself finish a sentence again?”

“Yes,” Sadie says.

“Why not?”

“Because I know what I’m going to say, and I want it to be a surprise.”

“A surprise for when?”

“For later. It’s your turn. We’re here.”

“I can see that. But you never told me why we’re here and not literally anywhere else.”

Sadie smiles as she looks at all the cars in the parking lot. She doesn’t see the one she’s looking for, but it doesn’t matter anymore. She knows it’s here, somewhere.

“Because,” she says. “Daniel’s here.”

Sam shrugs and looks for a parking spot. He turns the radio back up again. It’s the only thing that makes sense anymore.

Sweet dream, baby.

#drabble #writeblr #ch: sadie doyle #ch: sam doyle #dynamic: i'll be your mirror #year: 1987 #series: hot blooded #food

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lumini-317 · 3 years

Text

Hello!

This will be my official “introductory” post!

My real name is Erica, but I go by many names. My nickname repertoire includes but is not limited to: Lumi, Lumini, Cricket (I have a habit of rubbing my feet together, lmao), Jinx, Eri, Er, EriJoy, Sunbaeby, and Aceir (my real name but in alphabetical order).

This is my first ever Tumblr blog. I’ve had it for a while but have rarely posted anything, that along with the fact that I’m on mobile is kind of a mess so I apologize for mistakes and all that.

I have 3 older brothers, an older sister, and a younger brother.

I’m an ambivert. Sometimes I love hanging out with bigger groups of people, other times I dread it.

I’ve taken the “16personalities” test 4 times and all 4 put me in the “Diplomat” category, however I got “Advocate” (INFJ) 2 times, and “Protagonist” (ENFJ) and “Mediator” (INFP) 1 time each.

I am LGBTQ+. I’m asexual, aro+panromantic flux, and while I feel like I’m genderfluid, the changes are very subtle and so I sometimes just go with agender, gendervoid, or neutrois. It’s a lot less complicated that way. I’m ambiamorous, and also pronoun apathetic!

I love whump. I’ve loved it for as long as I can remember but only found the whump community maybe 3(?) years ago.

I also love K-Pop, C-Pop, J-Pop, and Asian dramas, mainly K-Pop and K-Dramas, though.

I’m a HUGE multistan. ATEEZ, SKZ, TBZ, EXO, BTS, Red Velvet, SHINee, iKON, MONSTA X, TWICE, TO1, WANNA ONE, SuperM, X1, MIRAE, Ciipher, Golden Child, Purple Kiss, BAE173, SF9, IU, ONEUS, ONEWE, The Rose, PIXY, LUCY, STAYC, WEi (which I pronounced as “way” for an embarrassingly long time), Dreamcatcher, Brave Girls, TXT, ENHYPEN, SNSD, KARD, AKMU, SHAUN, Gaho, NCT, GHOST9, 1team, SE7EN, Cross Gene, D1ce, AB6IX, CRAVITY, BLACKPINK, CIX, VIXX, f(x), 4Minute, CLC, YEZI, B.I, Wonho, (G)I-DLE, EVERGLOW, SEVENTEEN, BROOKLYN, Ha Hyunsang, DAY6, GOT7, Teen Top, BAP, TREASURE, UNIQ, etc! It goes on, far longer than I can list. I am also very much against fanwars, they disgust me.

I’m also a HUGE animal lover, and a big softie. I can’t even squish insects. I don’t care that they can’t feel pain and don’t experience emotions, I just can’t bring myself to. I make it my mission to save any type of animal I come across. I find toads in our koi pond and immediately pick them out and take them to a safe place. I help turtles across the road. I got a mouse out of a puddle and revived it, releasing it when it was healthy enough. I saw a snail on a piece of wood that was going to be thrown on a fire and carefully pulled it off and put it somewhere else. So far I’ve found 5 stray cats (Piper, Toothless, Felix, Kai, and Kit Kat—all were found as skinny, sickly kittens) and took them in, raising them as my own. I rescued a chipmunk from certain death-by-cat. I’ve even saved a few baby raccoons, ducklings, lizards, spiders, and snakes in my time. And I’ll keep doing so for as long as I live.

I love writing, drawing/sketching, and painting, however I’m not confident that I’m good at any of those things, lmao. I mean, I don’t think I’m the worst, but my finished “works” often leave me unsatisfied with my “skills”. But of course, that won’t stop me from trying to improve!

I’m a maladaptive daydreamer. This can cause issues in some places while helping me out in others. On one hand, it makes doing chores and such kind of difficult. Like one time I had to take care of my dad’s pigeons while he was fixing our shed and one time he pointed out how slow I was with the chores. His words were something along the lines of, “I’m already almost done with what I have to do and you’re still working with the pigeons.” Also, it (and maybe ADHD if I do have it?) made school a nightmare for me. But it’s also helpful because then during church it’s really easy to keep myself occupied while the pastors go on about their Magical Sky Daddy™’s son throwing a tantrum and killing a figtree because it didn’t have any figs and how that story should “challenge” us or something.

The characters in my daydreams are weird, though. They merge and separate with each other to make different characters depending on the situation. Most of them don’t have definite genders. Only a handful of them have names because they’re always merging and separating like some kind of Shadow Clone Masters or something. Stuff like that.

One of my characters is for sure a demi-boy, though, and his name is Kyler.

I brought this up because I was watching The Andy Griffith Show and Andy was giving Opie a lecture on how many poor kids there are in the world and used the ratio “one and a half boys per square mile”. Opie then says that he’s “never seen a half a boy before”. Kyler just sort of pops into (fake) existence, jumps off the couch, and throws his arms in the air while saying, “Half a boy, right here!” I burst out laughing. Thankfully it didn’t seem weird, since my parents started laughing at Opie and thought that I was just laughing at it, too.

Any-who.

If I daydream while I’m standing, I’ll often pace and gesture with my arms while moving my lips. Sometimes I’ll even whisper. If I’m sitting down, I usually fidget a lot (such as pick at my shirt and rub my feet together), stare into space, and move my lips or whisper. My family sometimes ask me, “Why are you whispering?” Or, “What are you grinning about?” And I just shrug because I don’t know how to explain it to them without risking them calling someone to pray over me, lmao. I mean, I wasn’t even allowed to have imaginary friends because that was “evil”. When I was about 7, I told my parents about my imaginary unicorn friend and they gave me a lecture and “prayed over me”. It was embarrassing and awkward for me.

I’m suspicious that I might have ADHD, but don’t have the money to actually get a professional diagnosis. I’m also too scared to ask my parents about it.

Speaking of which, my family and I don’t see eye-to-eye. I mean, they don’t know it because I’m good at hiding it, and they think I agree with mostly everything they do but boy, is it a mess.

You see, they’re evangelical conservative Christians. “LGBTQ+ people are going to hell”, “ThE LeFt ARe eViL AnD ARe TrYiNg To BrAiNwAsh OuR ChiLdrEn”, “Trump was sent by God”, “Intersex is fake”, “Women must submit to men”, “You should get married no later than in a year or ‘the temptation’ to have sex might become too much”, the whole bit.

Meanwhile I’m over here with my (imaginary) pride flags, just existing as an agnostic leftist who wants everyone to have equal rights, regardless of gender identity or sexual orientation, and would rather redo my horrifically atrocious kindergarten closing program role than pray to a god who (if they/he/she/it/whatever exists) gives cancer to kids and killed millions of innocent animals and people in the Bible.

But they have no idea that this is how I feel and now expect me to be baptized within the next month to show that I have “accepted Jesus Christ as my savior”. Yeah...that’s gonna be an awkward discussion...

Anyway, that’s just some things about me. Sorry that I got sidetracked a few times, lmao!

I look forward to posting more and maybe even making friends!

Thank you for reading (:

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0celesteisthebest0 · 3 years

Text

Take A Chance On Me

Word count: 5,129

Pairing: Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x Fem! Reader(no y/n)

Previous chapter Next chapter

Warnings: Explicit language, grinding, ( tell me if I should add more).

Authors Notes: So a little thing there will be no new chapter next week 😢. I have it queued for next next Saturday because I will be taking a week off tumblr. I just need a bit of time for chapter releases because I’m writing extra dialogue for other chapters so they transition better and such BUT YEAH DO NOT FRET I WILL BE BACK!!! Now that I’m done being serious THE ENDING to this chapter is one of my favorites! Like I love this chapter so much and I’m so excited for you all to read it. A little tidbit about this chapter, there is a specific scene that I wrote where I listened to Don’t stop the music by Rihanna. I really recommend listening to that song and I also recommend listen to Coming closer by DUCKWRTH with that scene. OK IM GOING TO STOP GEEKING OUT ABOUT THIS CHAPTER AND LET YOU GUYS GEEK OUT ABOUT IT! Enjoy 😉 Gif by pajamasecrets

Chapter 9: Dance

The week since you talked to Elizabeth about your issues has made you feel lighter at work. Yes work continues to make you feel drained from so much energy you’ve been putting towards it. But you didn’t have to suffer alone anymore. Both you and Elizabeth would talk to each other after work and complain about anything that happened that day. You two tended to complain a lot because of how many missions you’ve been sent to that week.

After detaining a member of the Golden Apple, any bit of information you received from him, agents were sent to scout the area or to follow other members to find a big location. Everyone at the Statesman office has been working their asses off to be able to stop them from hurting people.

That Friday morning was no different. Everyone continued to try to track down locations and look at the members of the Golden Apple who they could identify. One of those people they got from Joey was a man named Austin Robinson. He was an owner of quite a few clubs in the U.S and he was supposedly going to show up to one in Chicago called Temptation. When you heard about the mission you hoped that you wouldn’t have to be the one undercover but sadly you weren’t so lucky.

“Brandy, Whiskey, I want you two to track Robinsons movements and see where he could take you. You’re leaving in an hour. You’ll be provided with clothing for the mission. Prepare your duffle bags, you two are dismissed,” you nodded and stood up.

You were glad that Champ wasn’t giving you garbage missions anymore but the things Tequila said to you at your office a couple days ago got you thinking. Champ always had a grand expectation of you. You understood why he expected so much from you but it always left you sour, those expectations were never put on your other colleagues. He was always more rough with you and nothing like the treatment he’s given to people like Vodka for messing up. There was never room for errors, you understood that to some extent but it always seemed that there was never room for errors only for you. You sighed softly and started walking out of the conference room.

You just had to think about not going on this mission.

You jinxed yourself with that stupid comment but at least you were paired up with someone you liked. It would’ve been a disaster if you were paired up with Vodka… or worse with the likes of Moonshine. You were dreading going to the club but at least it wasn’t with those two.

“You excited Brandy,” Whiskey asked as you both left the room. You were heading to your office but he was following you there.

“Totally, I just love clubs,” you responded sarcastically. He gave you a small smile and continued to walk by your side.

“Oh come on sweetheart, aren’t you a tiny bit excited, we get to go dancin’ together,” he teased and your face started to heat up. Your mind instantly supplied images of Whiskey grabbing your waist and sliding down to your… nope stop it. You started to walk faster to your office.

“I’m not a dancer,” you responded and opened your office door. The feeling in your stomach that became more and more common anytime you were near Whiskey flipped at the thought of dancing with him.

“Want me to show you how?” He stuttered out, it was something you’ve never seen from Whiskey. It seemed like he was nervous asking you that question. You turned around to look at him and you gave him a confused smile. He was looking at you so strangely.

“Sure but if I step on you this is your warning,” you beamed at him and he gave you a lopsided grin. That feeling in your stomach expanded to your chest and you felt like you were drowning in whatever this emotion was. It was all consuming and you had to look away from Whiskey so you didn’t do something stupid.

“Well sugar, I’m not going to let that happen. See you in a few,” he replied with a wink and left your room. Your heart fluttered and the thoughts of dancing with him seemed like it was going to become a reality.

Stuff it down, this isn’t a date, you are going to this club for a mission so you have to focus on the task at hand.

You push down the feelings and try to find your duffle bag that you left in your office. You look around the mess that you call an office and find your duffle bag behind your chair. You open it to double check that you have everything you need. Spare clothes, toothbrush, hairbrush, deodorant, and of course weapons. You were all ready to go but you still had time before you had to leave so you decided to go downstairs and visit Ginger. The trip down to the lab just reminded you how hectic it was around here. The Golden Apple case wasn’t the only thing that was causing people to act nervous. There were constant threats that sometimes you didn’t know about. Once you got into Ginger’s lab there was a nervous energy emanating from the room.

“I swear to god Tequila…” Ginger snapped and looked at you with tense shoulders. When she saw it was you her shoulders fell and her eyes softened. “Sorry about that Brandy,” she muttered and went back to her work.

“You want to talk about it,” you asked her and set down your go bag. She sighed and took off her statesman glasses and rubbed the temples of her forehead.

“You know how work gets, it’s just that so many people are asking me to do things for them at once that it all gets overwhelming,” she grumbled, her eyes seemed bloodshot, probably due to days without rest. You hummed in agreement and went to stand next to her. You softly rubbed at her back and she sighed. “I wanted to stay home tonight with Tara but I have to keep an eye on you guys for the mission,” she muttered.

“That fucking blows, sorry you can’t be with your girlfriend,” you responded and she gave you a small smile. She sighed and put her glasses back on. “ I just wanted to see you before I left,” you muttered and you thought it would be best to leave her be and deal with those emotions by herself. It’s what you always did so you assumed she would do the same. She smiled wide at your comment.

“Thank you for that...I see that Champ is finally letting you do something other than question people. Don’t know why he was in such a bad mood towards you,” she hummed and you quirked up your eyebrow. You didn’t complain to her about Champ much, you just complained about missions.

You smiled slyly and shook your head, “ I see that you’re gossiping to Isaac about work.”

“It’s not gossiping… it’s just speaking about work,” she muttered quietly and you started to laugh. “Whatever, he does make some points though. Like what kinda idea was it to give the Golden Apple member to Whiskey and Vodka.”

“Whiskey is a capable agent he could-“ you stopped yourself from continuing because of the shining look that Ginger was giving you. You diverted her gaze, “it’s not my place to complain about it, Champ calls the shots.”

“But it’s some dumb decisions, why would he place Vodka of all people on this case after he’s fucked up so spectacularly? He should be yelling at him instead of you,” she stated matter of factly.

“Ginger-“

“You are one of the best agents that the Statesman have, so the treatment that you had to deal with for these past seven years is ridiculous. You deserve better treatment than Vodka or any other agent!” She exclaimed and you were left speechless. You looked at her tense shoulders and the movements of her hands. You moved toward her and rubbed her shoulder.

“Thank you Ginger, really thank you. Champs just been stressed so he’s just been… making dumb decisions. I’ve been here for a long time to trust Champagnes' judgment, the whole Golden Apple situation has been stressful.” You retorted and she rolled her eyes at you and started to continue the work she left on her station.

“You're making excuses for him,” she spoke her thoughts out loud and you sighed.

“I'm not,” you muttered and looked at the time, you had to get to the Jet for the mission.

“Get going you don’t want to keep your Casanova waiting,” she hummed and your eyes widened at her comment. Her face showed no shift and was perfectly still.

“Right, yeah, right… I’ll uh talk to you later. See you around Liz,” you stammered out and started to walk out of her lab feeling a little flustered from Liz’s statement. She usually doesn’t mention the banter between you and Jack so it’s all so strange for her to mention the nickname you gave him after him continuing calling you so many pet names.

“Have fun!” You heard Liz yell as you quickly left her lab. You were going to try and have fun but you really hated clubs, there were going to be so many people pressed against one another and it was going to be so loud. You groan thinking about it and make your way to the jet. The flight was going to be an hour so it could give you time to calm down and not stress out from the mission. Plus Whiskey was going to be there with you so it wasn’t going to be so bad. Yeah everything is going to be alright.

——<><>—<><>——

You and Whiskey arrived at your hotel room. You’ve had to share rooms before so it wasn’t anything new. The jet ride here was quick but it’s mostly because you fell asleep during the ride. You set your duffle bag on your bed and you saw the two black bags with the clothes for the mission. It had your aliases written on them and you grabbed yours. You went to change in the bathroom and left Whiskey alone in the room. You sighed and opened up the black bag.

“Oh you gotta be kidding me,” you whispered to yourself, annoyed at the garment in front of you. It was an emerald green halter neck bodycon dress. The dress exposes the midriff section of your body. It had a stretchy fabric that felt soft on the tips of your fingers. It was a beautiful dress but… you had no confidence to wear something so revealing. It left nothing to the imagination and just looking at it made you heat up. You sighed, you had to wear it there wasn’t anything else you could wear. All you brought in your duffle bag was sleepwear and you couldn’t exactly go to the club in that. You took off the pantsuit that you were wearing and slipped into the emerald dress. You fixed the fabric near your breasts because you didn’t want to have an accidental nip slip.

You looked at the mirror that was in the bathroom and you felt hot from the neck up. It looked pretty but just thinking about everyone looking at you, thinking about Whiskey looking at you made you unbelievably nervous.

You tried to calm down and take deep breaths, you’ll be fine just focus on the mission. You let your hair down and fixed your bracelets. You put on makeup and kept thinking only on the mission. It didn’t calm your nerves but it made you nervous only on the mission. Your hands were shaky so you gave up on wearing eyeliner and opted for eyeshadow and lipstick. Feeling ready you went to open the door but you froze. Your hand grasped at the door handle and it kept shaking. Calm down, calm down, it’s ok, it’s just a dress, it’s just a dress. You took a deep breath and opened the door. You went towards your bed to stuff your office clothes in your duffle bag and take out your heels. Your hands couldn’t stop shaking.

“Brandy you… wow,” Whiskey soft amazed voice spoke and it sent a shiver down your spine. You turned around to face him. He didn’t have his Stetson on instead he had a nice baby blue button up tucked into a pair of black dress pants. His shirt wasn’t all the way buttoned up and it accentuated his strong arms. You stared at him and you saw his sparkling eyes and his skin tan skin looking flushed.

“It’s too much right,” you muttered at his response. It was something that you would never wear.

“No Brandy, you look beautiful… I mean you always look beautiful but like… it’s not too much you look great,” he stammered out and his face turned pink. You smiled at his comment and he quickly turned to the door. “Are you ready sugar?”

You were confused as to why he wasn’t facing you but you didn’t want to question him on it.

“Yeah I just need to put on my heels,” you muttered and slipped your heels on. You grabbed your purse and started walking towards the door. “Come on cowboy, you said you wanted to go dancing,” you teased as you opened the hotel door. He didn’t respond to your comment so when you got out of the hotel room you turned around to look at him.

“You okay Jack,” you asked, concerned about him. He usually says a stupid comment in response to whatever you say but he didn’t this time.

“I’m fine darlin’,” he muttered and he walked out of the hotel room and continued to walk to the elevator. You followed after him and you nudged him. He gave you a bewildered look.

“It’s ok to be nervous… I’m always nervous at the start of a mission,” you muttered. You’ve never seen Whiskey like this so you assumed it was nerves. He smiled at you.

“It’s cute that your worryin’ about me hun but I assure you I’m fine,” he replied and wrapped his arm around your shoulder. Your skin started to heat up from his touch.

The two of you walked together out of the hotel together to the car. Like the gentleman he was, Whiskey opened the door to the car and let you in. He closed the door and opened the other door and sat down. You went into your purse and grabbed the earpiece to inform Ginger you were ready. You placed the earpiece in your right ear and waited for the familiar crackle to turn on.

“Hey, Ginger, can you hear me,” you muttered. The static turned into a voice.

“I can hear you loud and clear Brandy, you two know what to do, the bug you're supposed to place is supposed to pick up only on voices so don’t worry about the music,” Ginger responded and Whiskey huffed.

“Our only problem is if he shows up,” you watched Whiskey say while his thumb touched his lips. Were his lips soft, you wondered as you continued to stare at them. “We also need to be careful where we place those bugs,” he added while turning to you. You snapped out of your thoughts and looked at his dreamy eyes. You hummed and nodded at him, he quirked his brow. “Right… Ginger, you did check the cameras of the club,” Whiskey questioned.

“Yes I did and like it said in the report there is a VIP room, I know you guys can get in there and if not just slip a bug into the area.” Ginger responded annoyed, you knew she didn’t want to deal with all this so you didn’t bother to ask any questions. He hummed at her response. “Well I’ll let you two be, I’ll be here,” Ginger said and her voice faded away leaving you and Whiskey alone once again.

“I hope you haven’t forgotten sweetheart, but I did tell you I’d teach you how to dance,” he whispered in your left ear and your body reacted by warming up. Your mouth was dry after his comment and you saw him smirk. You bit your lip and thought to yourself about what you could say. The car pulled up to the Temptation club and you hummed.

“Let’s dance, lover boy,” you pulled at his arm and you opened the car door. You held his calloused hand in yours and skipped the line to the club. The security at the door looked at Whiskey then looked at you. You gave a fake smile and batted your eyes and he let you two in. You continued to grab his hand and you walked in together. The loud obnoxious music boomed around you and it felt like you were going to be consumed by it. Whiskey squeezed your hand that he was still holding and you looked at him with a smile. He was here with you so it will be fine.

“Let’s start placin’ the bugs, meet me here when you're finished,” he muttered and you picked it up through your earpiece as clear as day. You nodded and you headed in different directions. You tried to avoid all the people dancing around but it was frankly impossible so you were maneuvering your way through them. You were trying to find the VIP room that was stated on the report. You then found a velvet rope and another security man standing in front of the rope. Your first thought was to get into the area. You could plant better bugs in those areas. So you made your way to the security guard. You put a hand on his chest to get his attention. He looked at you then continued to look at the crowd.

“Can you let me in, hot stuff ?” You purred. The security guard refused to move. “I’m here for important business,” you added on and started to move your hand. He continued to stare at you and removed your hand from his chest. You really needed to work on your flirting skills cause you always ended up in these dry and awkward situations. It was easier to flirt with drunks than with people who were sober and understood the awkwardness of the situation. Like who the hell calls someone hot stuff? You sigh and place the bug on him and huff at him while you walk away.

“You struck out,” his voice rang out in your ear. You hummed and he giggled. “No offense sweetheart but I wouldn’t have let you in either,” his smooth voice teased

“Rude…” you muttered and continued to maneuver your way through the packed dance floor. “Like Tequila says we have our bad days and hey not everyone is into my sexy voice so I get it,” you whispered and Whiskey didn’t respond. Yikes you really shouldn’t have said the last thing. The club was already hot but you became warmer from that comment. Just go back to meet Whiskey and pretend you didn’t say that. You arrived near the entrance of the club and tried to look for Whiskey. “Hey Whisk…” you were about to call for him but then someone grabbed your shoulder. You turned around quickly and saw a tall man towering over you.

“Hey baby, you want some company,” the man said and you tensed and shook your head and removed his hand from your shoulder. “Oh come on baby, don’t be like that,” he grabbed your arm with a tight force. You were about to kick this guy and book it but Whiskey grabbed at that man's collar pulling him close.

“Don’t touch her,” he growled and the man quickly let go of your arm. You didn’t even look at the man who grabbed you instead you looked at Whiskey's face that was stricken with rage. “Understood,” he bellowed and the man nodded quickly. Whiskey let him go and the man left without looking at you.

Whiskey's face turned to you and his expression softened and changed to worry. He went swiftly to your side and softly grabbed the arm the man grabbed. He looked at the damaged skin where the man gripped at you. He looked to see if you were bleeding and you kept looking at his furrowed brows and the pout of his lips.

“I’m okay Whiskey,” you whispered and he looked at your eyes. He continued to grab your arm and his thumb stroked you softly. You grabbed his hand and laced your fingers together. “I’m okay,” you repeated and you tapped your fingers against the back of his hand. “Did you place your bug,” you asked while looking at his large hand.

“I placed it in VIP,” he muttered and you shifted your head from where you were looking at how your hands were interlocked. You gave him a look and he gave you a small smile.

“I just said I was here for Robinson and they let me in,” he grinned and your mouth was slightly open in surprise. Of course he was able to get into the room and he didn’t make a fool of himself like you did. You knew with the bugs planted Ginger would wait to connect you to any audio that you guys would be interested in looking into.

“We got some free time sweetheart, may I ask you for this dance,” he pulled the hand he was holding to his lips. They were soft just like how you thought they would be and his mustache tickled your fingers. You grinned at him and your body felt more warm than you think it’s ever been.

“Of course,” he pulled you to the dance floor and tried to shield you from others that were around you. The song's beats were consistent and you swayed to the loud booming music. Whiskey's hand moved yours to his shoulder and both his large hands moved to your waist. You moved closer because of his actions and put your other hand on his neck.

“Just follow my lead sweetheart,” Whiskey whispered in your ear and you could hear it in your other ear because of the earpiece. You made a small noise and nodded your head. His voice made your legs feel weak and you could hear your heart beating louder than the music. He started to move his hips and you did the same. You continued to sway with him and you rubbed your fingers on his neck. In response to that he moved his hands up and down your waist. It made you move slightly closer to him.

He smiled at you and started to whisper in your ear again, pulling you closer to him. You barely had three inches of room between each other. “You lyin’ to me darlin’.”

You gave him a confused look and he began to whisper again. “You said that you couldn’t dance. Well all I see right now is the hips of a dancer,” he smiled while turning you around and his hands went to your waist again. Those actions made you heat up and it made your body act on its own accord. You feel so aroused at that moment that you really didn’t care about anyone near you, all you cared about was him. You tried to find your voice to give him a response but his hands on your waist made it hard to focus. Those three inches between each other have disappeared and you felt his hips on your ass. His hands were trailing down to your hips. You felt so out of breath and you so desperately wanted more from him. You made a small noise from his large hands on your hips. You clamped your mouth shut and the seas of pleasure continued to ripple through you. You were basically grinding on him at this point and you felt something on your ass, you tried to reason with yourself and say that wasn’t what you thought it was.

“I don’t dance but…” you gasped out. You couldn’t help how you were feeling right now. You felt guilty about feeling so aroused around him right now. Especially during a mission but it just felt right to be with him.

“But what,” he muttered and you turned around again so you could see him. His pupils were dilated and the brown eyes you were so used to were barely there.

“But…” you couldn’t think, what were you trying to say. But what? You weren’t thinking you were just moving on autopilot. You continued to dance and look at him searching for an answer in his eyes. What were you trying to say? His eyes were trained on yours and you couldn’t help moving closer than you already were. Why were you doing this? You had to stop…

You needed to stop but you kept inching closer, his eyes staring to your lips. His breath was ghosting your skin and your lips were about to meet his when you heard a crackle in your ear that caused you to regain your sanity. You moved away from him and he did the same. You looked at his chest, refusing to look at his eyes. His hands returned to your waist and you shivered.

“Where is he, he’s supposed to be here by now, that fucking rat bastard,” you both heard in the earpiece.

“Calm down boss, Ian said he’ll be here in a moment,” a gruff voice responded to

“I’m going to kill that bastard when he shows up! He’s probably the one who got Joey in trouble. Joey was just going to go to Mexico to deal with some business but now this stupid fucking bastard got him a sentence worse then death,” the exasperated man ranted and stopped to drink something. “Boss man is going to personally kill that rat, Ian Montgomery,” he muttered. You furrowed your brows and stopped moving to the music. What is their business in Mexico, and why was Joey the only one who was supposed to go. Whiskey grabbed the hand that was on his neck and guided you towards a less crowded area.

“I’m sorry to say this sir but the big boss man said that Ian is in Mexico and had to cancel his meeting.” The gruff voice stated in a soft voice.

“Why the fuck is he in Mexico. Fucking ridiculous, get me my phone I need to make a few calls,” his agitated voice rang out.

“Yes Mr Robinson,” the gruff voice responded and they left the VIP room. You frowned about what you learned, you didn’t have a solid location but whatever is happening in Mexico doesn’t sound good. You could try to detain him now but if he was calling the leader all your information would disappear.

“I have everything recorded guys, I’ll get back to you guys to see if any of the other agents got a specific location in Mexico,” Ginger replied firmly and you nodded still deep in thought.

“Thank you Ginger,” you muttered and you just realized that you were still holding Whiskey's hand. Your heart sank to your stomach. Before all of that you were about to kiss him. You squeezed his hand lightly and let it go, it also seemed he was deep in thought before you let go of his hand. “Come on let’s go,” you stated and started to leave without him.

You were about to kiss him right here in this shitty club.

You danced with him and you were about to kiss him. What was wrong with you! You knew him for seven years and today of all days you were going to kiss him. Your thoughts were interrupted from Whiskey opening the car door for you. “Thank you,” you whispered and got in the car. Your mind continued to spiral as you sat in the car. You’ve always found him attractive but you never thought you’d kiss him. You’d never thought he’d dance with you. You didn’t think he’d even look at you but here you are in this awkward situation.

Oh god what if he hates you, he’s awfully quiet and it’s probably because you made him uncomfortable. Why did you keep moving on him like that! You did it because you were horny but you should’ve thought about it before doing anything. You felt so embarrassed you didn’t even want to look at him.

The car continued to drive to your hotel room and the silence in the car was suffocating. There was a thought in your head that you tried to smother. You didn’t want to listen to anything that your mind supplied. So you opted to stare at the window and watch the Chicago skyline. It didn’t calm you the way you wanted it to but it made you not look at Whiskey. Looking at Whiskey made you think and you really didn’t want to think.

The car stopped at your hotel and both of you walked out. The silence continued as you arrived in the room you were sharing that night. You went to your bed and grabbed your bag. You felt his eyes on you and your breath started to stutter. You grabbed your sleep clothes and turned to look at him.

“Do you need to use the bathroom,” you whispered and your voice cracked. His stare was so soft and nothing compared to how it looked in the club. He shook his head and you quickly went to the bathroom with your things. When you locked the door you tried to calm down. Yes you tried to kiss him but it was just because you guys were dancing. It didn’t mean you liked him because you didn’t.

He’s your coworker and friend nothing more. You didn’t like Whiskey. You didn’t like Jack Daniels. You just think he’s attractive and he cares so much about others that it hurts to see. He’s a great agent and has always been kind to you even when you think you didn’t deserve it. He makes you feel amazing and that feeling in your stomach any time you think of him makes you explode.

The feelings that your body had were just feelings; it didn’t mean that you liked him. He was attractive but you didn’t like him like that. Images of being in a relationship flooded your mind and you took a deep breath and you started to pick at your fingers.

Did-did you like Jack? A voice questioned you in the back of your mind and you stayed frozen in the hotel bathroom.

Did you like Jack?

Taglist: @imnotinlove-thisisnotyoursong @shadowolf993 @salome-c

#agent whiskey #agent whiskey x female reader #kingsman the golden circle #take a chance on me #slow burn #my fanfiction

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theawkwardterrier · 3 years

Text

Fake It, Make It

A tropey Steggy Secret Santa gift for the excellent @sagesiren/@theeleganteuropeanwoman! Wishing you as good an end to 2020 as you can get, and an amazing 2021!! ✨✨✨

Summary: When Steve tells his mother that he is now dating a woman named Peggy Carter, his mother immediately wants to meet her. Which Steve would, of course, be perfectly happy to arrange, except that he is not in fact dating Peggy Carter (as much as he might want to be).

Read on AO3

Steve’s mother has been a nurse for thirty-three years. She’s familiar with the medical system and its limitations, and she’s a straight shooter even when it comes to her own mortality.

So when her doctor sends her for more tests after her annual physical, she mentions it to Steve during their weekly phone call.

“Dr. Nakhwa is worried,” she admits. “It’s bloodwork and scans now, but it might become something very quickly.”

“What can I do?” Steve asks, immediate and stricken. He had been trying to work on dinner as they talked, and his pot of water roils and hisses without answer.

“I’ll let you know if there’s anything,” she assures him practically, then sighs, quick and heartfelt and without drama. “But if it is something, I’ll just be so sorry for all the things in your life I’ll miss out on. Your first gallery show—”

“Ma,” Steve protests. No one knows his art better than she does - she signed him up for all the free afterschool art classes and every summer camp they could afford, and there are still paintings of his stored in her apartment a decade after he moved out - but he got his practicality from her, started training in carpentry on the recommendation of George Barnes back when he was a teenager and knew that there wouldn’t be money for college. He’s been able to do more custom woodworking lately and word has been getting around about his skill, but he’s accepted that he won’t be making his living off of the fine arts.

Undeterred, his mother says, “Oh, hush, even hobbyists can have dreams. But if you don’t like that, I’d be happy to see you in a relationship instead. It would ease my heart to know that you’ve found someone who can be beside you.”

And because easing his mother’s heart has always been at the top of his priority list, Steve finds himself blurting, “I’ve actually been dating someone. Now. I’m dating someone now.”

“Oh?” she says keenly. “Well, I hope to meet them someday soon.”

Steve coughs. “I’m sure you will.” He hopes that he’s somehow magically become a better liar in the past thirty seconds than he was for the first thirty years of his life.

Seemingly forgetting her earlier seriousness entirely, his mother adds, “What can you tell me about them? Can I have a name at least?”

“Peggy Carter,” Steve says without pause.

Later, he will ask himself why he didn’t just lie. It’s too soon, I don’t want to jinx anything. We made a bet and I’m not allowed to say her name out loud for a week. She’s a spy and I can only tell you her alias. He will berate himself for not just diving for some sort of distracting conversational offramp: the still-boiling pot, the cat yowling down in the alley, “that’s not important now, what else did your doctor say?” But he will never wonder why this was the name which came out of his mouth. He never has to search for it. She’s always on his mind these days.

“Peggy Carter,” his mother repeats. “Well, I’ll be happy to meet her. I’m off two Saturdays from now, if the two of you would like to drop by for a visit.”

His mother is the only blood family he has, that he’s ever even known. He’ll do anything for her. Even, apparently, say yes to this.

His mother’s follow-up scans come back clear. She tells him that in one breath, and tells him in the next that she’s so looking forward to meeting Peggy this upcoming Saturday.

“I don’t want to put this off until the next time I have a health scare,” she says. “And I could tell she’s important to you just by the way you said her name.”

So in his relief at her news, and to his later horror, instead of saying that he and Peggy have broken up, instead of saying that she has an emergency, instead of saying that she’s gone back to England indefinitely and they’ll just have to do it some other time, he says, “We’re looking forward to it to.”

When Steve confesses his predicament, Bucky laughs so hard that he slips off of his stool at Finnegan’s and almost knocks himself out on the bar.

“Could you at least help while you’re doing that?” Steve asks, torn between impatience and desperation, but his best friend just collapses into laughter again.

His mother already knows most of his friends. He supposes he could hire someone, but that seems like it might be taking it a step too far. And anyway, he’s overwhelmingly thankful that his mother is still healthy; it seems ungrateful, a temptation of fate, to give more weight and trickery to the lie.

Which means that there’s really only one thing left to do.

It doesn’t mean he’s relishing the prospect under the circumstances.

(Though he wouldn’t exactly be opposed to it under others.)

He asks Peggy Carter out for what’s probably the strangest date of her life and certainly the strangest of his on Monday, just as they’re finishing their lunch break. The rest of the crew, coolers over their shoulders, is already heading back over to the job site - Morita knocking his knuckles against that hideous brown hard hat of Dugan’s, Jacques explaining something as Gabe leans in - but Steve always does a quick sweep for trash just to make sure they’ve left the area clear. Peggy is heading in the other direction to track down Phillips. The boss is still legendarily prickly, but he doesn’t trust any architect but her these days.

“Peggy,” Steve forces himself to call before she’s disappeared. He wishes that this were just another one of those times that he had called her back for those innocuous, desperate five extra minutes of chatting. “I need to—Would you—Can I ask you a question? A favor, I guess?”

She tilts her head in invitation and he spills the story as quickly as he can, the rip-off-the-bandaid method.

“—and if you aren’t busy on Saturday, I was wondering if you could come over to say hi to her. It wouldn’t have to be for long, but it would make her really happy and I would—I’d really appreciate it. I can’t tell you how much.”

He stuffs his twisting hands into his pockets as he finishes, and pushes back his shoulders, hoping that he’ll still have a bit of dignity even once she’s rejected him. He doesn’t think she’ll be mean about it - he knows who Peggy is, the type of person to hand back hammers to the apprentices who’ve dropped them with a wordless wink, the type who lets someone else pick the takeout place if they’re having a bad day even when it’s her turn - but still, she’s Peggy Carter, and he’s Steve Rogers, the random guy who she knows from job sites and now the time he’d lied to his mother about dating her and then asked her to help him keep up the ruse.

“That certainly is a predicament,” she says instead of any of the gentle letdowns he was imagining. “But I must ask: why did you pick me?” It’s chilly today but bright, and the noon sun glints off her hair. He catches a smile, there and gone again, at the corners of her mouth.

“I said the first name that came into my head,” he tells her honestly, and then, just as honestly, “And I knew that my mother would like you, if you ever happened to meet each other.”

“Hmm,” says Peggy, smile all the way gone now, as if he’s disappointed her somehow. Her eyes are still soft, though. “Well, I suppose it’s quite lucky I am free on Saturday, then.”

“Lucky,” Steve echoes, and tries to figure out whether it’s true.

“You absolutely will not go out in this weather,” his mother admonishes, her arms set in a way that Steve is extremely familiar with.

“I’m certain that the subway—” Peggy starts.

“Of course the subway will be running,” Sarah says with the confidence of a born New Yorker. “Late and jam-packed, announcing that they’re going express any damn time, and there’s no reason for you to be on it.”

Peggy looks over to Steve as if he might step in, but even as he gives her a wide-eyed, helpless shrug, his mother is already leaving the living room and heading down the hall, calling, “I’ll get fresh sheets for you two, Steve, but please find Peggy something to wear.” (Sarah Rogers is surprisingly strong, but she’s also rail thin and an extremely charitable five foot two, and Peggy is...not. Something Steve has absolutely no complaints about, to be frank.)

They’ve told his mother that they’ve been seeing each other for nearly six months - Steve mostly left that part of the storytelling up to Peggy, who managed to spin something that had enough details to seem plausible but wasn’t so elaborate that Steve had felt bad about misleading his mother with a fairy tale. But even if their relationship was real, there’s no reason to assume that they would have spent the night with each other, that they would be comfortable sharing a bedroom.

“I’ll sleep out here,” Steve says immediately and with vehemence.

Peggy casts her eye over the couch, more of a loveseat really; the living room is too small for much else. “Will you be removing your head or your feet to fit, then?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

Voice low to avoid his mother’s uncanny hearing, he says, “This whole day has already been more than you agreed to. I don’t want to force you into a situation that would make you uncomfortable.”

“I would say the same as it regards you,” she responds. “And if I was uncomfortable with the situation, I believe I would be the first to know. Now, I think I was promised something to sleep in?”

The collection of clothes he keeps at his mother’s is small, but he manages to dig up a large T-shirt and a pair of flannel pants for Peggy and the same for himself. She smiles at him, leaving to change, and he takes the opportunity to do the same before turning to put the sheets his mother had found on the beds, faced head-on with the reminder of the close quarters of his bedroom.

There isn’t much to see: his bed, the tiny closet, a dresser. He used to do his homework at the kitchen table because there wasn’t room for a desk. His bed frame had been a gift representing several birthdays and a Christmas as well, back in elementary school. Every other weekend, he would slide the trundle bed out, gleeful to finally have a chance to have sleepovers with Bucky somewhere other than in sleeping bags on the living room rug. The pull-out had used up all the extra floor space and he’d had to crawl off the end of the bed to use the bathroom in the middle of the night, but when he and Buck were telling each other scary stories quietly enough that his mother wouldn’t hear or reading comics under the covers, taking turns holding the shared flashlight, what had it mattered?

It definitely seems to matter now.

He stares at the two beds, tucked compactly side by side, and realizes that soon he and Peggy are going to be lying in them. Even if he pushes them as far apart as possible, it would be barely two inches before the dresser got in the way. No matter what, their hands could touch across that gap. If she’s a mobile sleeper, they could end up practically curled around one another…

He scrubs a hand vigorously over his face, mussing his hair and probably leaving him red-cheeked, but gathering himself. He makes both beds with care, returning to the linen closet to add top sheets, comforters, and light blankets too; he has no idea how Peggy likes to sleep.

The thought leaves him wide-eyed once again, but it’s too late to force his thoughts elsewhere. Peggy knocks just then, and he tells her to come in, hoping that his voice sounds normal as he does.

“I should have gotten you a toothbrush,” he says immediately upon seeing her, ready to scramble over and take care of it, but she waves a hand.

“Your mother gave me one. She also added my clothing to a basket of laundry she was taking downstairs so I would have ‘something fresh to wear in the morning.’ She wouldn’t hear any protests.”

As if she couldn’t have already figured it out from everything else today, Steve says, “She’s like that.”

“Yes,” Peggy says, thankfully amused. “I assumed.” She turns to the beds and asks, “Now, which would you like?”

Which one he’d like? He can’t think of anything that could matter less. He lists for her the pros and cons of each bed with the care usually reserved for life-changing decisions. She follows along seriously, though he recognizes the touch of humor around her mouth.

Ten minutes later, he is lying on the trundle, and she has her back to him as she examines the spines of the books on the small shelf mounted beside his bed.

She has washed her makeup off and her hair is in a single, simple braid. He’s heard the guys on the crew refer to certain women as “unbelievably beautiful.” Peggy isn’t that. She looks exactly as pretty right now as he had imagined she would, exactly as pretty as she does in her jeans and sensible blouse and Day-Glo vest on the construction site, or the time he had seen her dressed up in a gown for some awards gala, or when he had picked her up that morning and saw her wearing that red sweater with a black pencil skirt and felt lucky just to be walking next to her.

Still, he does find looking at her just now a bit hard. Difficult, he amends quickly, shoving the word hard away. She’s somewhat difficult to look at like this, unraveled and lovely.

“How fantastically minded you were,” she comments, smiling over her shoulder before flipping over to face him. “Is this still the sort of thing you like to read?”

“I usually end up with a bit of everything,” he admits. “But yeah, there’s some great sci-fi and fantasy being written these days.”

“It can be nice,” she says, “visiting other worlds.”

“It can be,” he agrees, not telling her that that’s what today has felt like: however awkwardly, unconventionally attained, it’s been like a brief, wonderful visit to another world.

They were only meant to stay for brunch.

“Don’t cook anything,” he had begged his mother. She was always covering shifts for other people, running errands for neighbors when she wasn’t working, on her feet all day regardless. Having a day off where she hadn’t already scheduled sixteen things was something of a miracle, and he was going to force her to take advantage of it. “I’ll cook.”

Voice somewhat insultingly skeptical down the phone, she’d said, “So, do you already know that this woman has a cast-iron stomach, or are you looking to poison a guest in my home, Steven Rogers?”

In the end, they’d agreed that he would take care of picking up fresh bagels from their favorite place. Of course, when Steve and Peggy arrived, his mother had already set out lox, cut fruit and vegetables, hard boiled eggs, and about six different types of cream cheese.

“You promised not to make anything,” Steve said irritably, giving his mother a hug.

“I promised not to cook,” she corrected. “Boiling a few eggs isn’t cooking. Even you can do that, after all.” And Peggy laughed from beside Steve and stepped forward to introduce herself.

Steve had promised Peggy that they wouldn’t stay longer than a couple of hours, and so at exactly 1:30 he glanced noticeably at his watch and asked if she needed to go to “that other thing you had scheduled.”

“Thankfully not,” she smiled, finishing her piece of crumb cake (his mother swore she just happened to have it left over). “I postponed it, and I’m certainly happy that I did.”

And despite the situation, Steve was happy too - happy that she’d come, happy that she stayed. She and his mother traded stories about their respective jobs, lamenting that even though they were of different generations and worked in completely different fields, one with women as the majority and one with them in the minority, they had so many of the same experiences: dealing with stressed or snappish or condescending people, having their knowledge and authority questioned, and managing to get enormous, important work done skillfully anyway.

“I still love it,” Peggy had said as they moved from the kitchen table to the living room. (Steve barely thought about taking the seat beside Peggy, and then started overthinking why he hadn’t considered more.) “Despite everything, I wouldn’t want to be doing anything else.”

“Of course you wouldn’t,” said Sarah, voice already fond, as if she’s known Peggy more than a few hours. “I wouldn’t either.”

They’d talked about how Steve had taken shop class in high school - a few knickknacks he’d made were even still scattered around the apartment for his mother to show off; when she’d passed one over to him, even though he recognized its amateurishness, he felt a tenderness fill him, as if he was holding the hand of a younger version of himself. When he passed it to Peggy, he felt the gentleness of her hand on it too.

Later, he would realize that it was a bit suspicious for him to talk about how he’d gone from an A- in Shop to a carpentry apprenticeship to starting to work with Phillips’s general contracting company: surely if they had truly been dating, they would have talked about it all at some point before. But in the moment all he saw was the flicker in her eye as she told him that, oh, she certainly remembered his first day working with the crew.

It wasn’t that they didn’t notice the weather turning - the first flakes fell as the light began dimming low and gray toward evening - it was only that they were a bit busy making hot drinks and setting up the Trivial Pursuit board. This was probably how Steve would have been spending his afternoon regardless, but he watched Peggy carefully for signs that she was eager for an escape and simply too polite to say so. He even leaned over when his mother excused herself briefly and asked whether she was sure she still wanted to stay, to which she had responded, “I’ll almost certainly have my sports and leisure wedge after my next turn. Why in the world would I leave?”

When Steve went downstairs to retrieve the Thai takeout they had ordered, he did see that it was getting pretty messy outside. The wind had a bite to it, too, so he gave his order of miso soup to the man who’d delivered the food alongside the tip, and decided to see if there was an extra pair of boots around for Peggy to use later.

But after they’d finished with their dinner and watching The Sound of Music, which had been just starting as they’d flipped through TV channels, his mother had turned to the nine o’clock news, saw how hard the snow was coming down, and refused to be persuaded that a change in footwear would be enough. Truthfully, Steve would probably have stayed without question if he had been by himself, but the fact is that he came with Peggy. Peggy, who had stayed long past the anticipated two hours. Peggy, who he was not actually dating. Peggy, who he was now meant to sleep beside.

“I’m sorry for the early night,” he apologizes again as they lie together in the darkness with the radiator hissing slightly. Not realizing how things would turn out today, he had scheduled a 9 A.M. consult with a couple who were looking to have some built-in bookshelves added and he has be up early enough to bring Peggy home and get back to his apartment to change before heading into Manhattan.

“It’s no trouble,” she assures him again. “There’s nothing at all the matter with getting a good night’s rest.”

“And I’m sorry again about everything. About how today turned out, and for getting you into it into the first place.”

“Oh Steve,” she sighs. “Will you shut up about that, please?” and even though her tone lacks sharpness, the words are enough for him to flip over toward her in surprise. “I truly enjoyed myself today. And I would have come even if you had simply asked me without any sort of exceptional circumstances.”

“What do you—?”

“I liked meeting your mother. She’s nothing at all like mine, which perhaps is why I appreciate her so much. I liked sitting around and talking, playing games and eating good food and singing along with Julie Andrews, and I liked spending time with you.” Her voice dips even softer. “I liked it all, and I would have come anyway, if you had only asked.”

With the cloud cover and the snow still coming down, the window lets in little light. He can’t make out her expression, can’t see if she’s just saying things out of tiredness, or reminiscing about a pleasant afternoon, or if she might just be hinting at something which would justify the elevated beating of his heart.

He nearly thanks her for being a good friend, but somehow, the way that she’s turned onto her side to face him as well, an invitation, makes him breathe in and say, “But you’re Peggy Carter. I don’t know why you would have bothered.”

“Is that what you think of me?” she asks. He’s never heard her voice with that twisting edge to it and it takes a moment for him to recognize it: hurt. “That I’m some high and mighty miss, and I would never deign to even look at the likes of you?”

“No!” he says, not frantic, hard and simple and factual, trying to make her see. “It’s just that you’re Peggy Carter,” he repeats. “There are probably a dozen awards on your shelves. I’ve seen you skewer guys with a half dozen words for propositioning you, then get right back to work. Phillips doesn’t like anyone except his dog, but he turns down projects if you aren’t going to be working on them. You wanted to design buildings and you made that happen for yourself. You’ve worked on dozens of projects and they’re all different but I’ve wanted to stay in each one, even the offices.” His voice doesn’t drop as he continues, even as he half hopes that his words will be lost in the pillow beneath his head. “You’re creative and determined and gorgeous and fascinating and funny. Just talking to you should be any thinking person’s favorite thing. And I’m only a guy.”

She inhales deeply through her nose, as if she is trying to keep her temper somehow, but when she speaks, her voice is calm. “When there are novices on a job, you’re the one who helps them through their nerves and shows them the right way to do things. Other women have told me that they like to work on the same site as you because they know you would never make them uncomfortable and you’ve fought anyone who tried. After an evening out, you give your share of the tip and then stay behind and add a bit extra. You do it every time, Steve. I’ve watched you.”

“Anyone could—”

“The first day I met you,” she interrupts, “you introduced yourself to Mr. Jarvis. Most people don’t, you know. They’re too busy noticing Howard to even pay attention. The day after, you brought soup for Ana because you had heard she was ill. I don’t know anyone else who would have done that, bring soup for someone who he’d never met, the wife of the electrician’s admin he’d only known for a day.” Even with the hiss and clank of the heating, he thinks he can make out every dimension of the breath she takes in before she adds, low and direct, “You’re loyal and sharp and kind, you make wonderful art and adore your mother, and you’re so upstandingly moral I half expect you to ride into work one day on a white steed. Had you not kept moving away every time I tried to get near, I would have asked you out long ago. And if you had asked me all the way back then, before I knew anything else, I would have said yes too, just because of the soup.”

It’s been three years since he started working with Phillips, three years of watching from across construction zones as she cut stubborn men down to size with a sharp word (or her fist if necessary), of lingering at lunch for the chance to see her smile or hear her opinion on current affairs or some article that they had both read. All that time of thinking that she would never possibly consider him more than a friend, and she already had.

“Can I—” he starts, his hand moving tentatively into the tiny space between their beds. She catches his fingers with hers and lifts them to her mouth, placing a delicate kiss on the backs of his knuckles. His breath comes sharply into his lungs.

He has, a time or two thousand, pictured some imaginary world where she might kiss him one day. This isn’t at all how he envisioned it in any of those dreams - they were never in side-by-side twin beds at his mother’s house, for one thing.

Nothing in him cares.

When she says goodbye to him the next morning, his mother gives him an innocent smile and a reminder to drop by a Duane Reade for chapstick and...anything else they might need. He almost tells her that they were only kissing, but doesn’t think it will help. Besides, he was trying to avoid embarrassing details by stripping the beds before she woke up so she wouldn’t notice that the sheets had only been truly mussed on one.

(He wouldn’t have been expecting that sleeping in a narrow bed with Peggy half sprawled on top of him would be wonderful, but he’ll be the first to admit that he isn’t right about everything.)

Exactly fifty-one weeks later, his mother asks him how he and Peggy are celebrating their anniversary. He’s halfway through telling her before he realizes that she’s not supposed to know that it’s their anniversary at all, that she’s still meant to think they’ve been together a year and a half already.

“As if you’ve been able to lie to me once in your life, Steven Rogers,” she says with a laugh. “You said her name and I knew that you weren’t telling me the whole truth the same moment I knew that she meant something to you anyway. Now tell me about the ring.”

“How did you—?”

He has the feeling she’s waving a dismissive hand on her end of the phone. “Nothing in the world easier than reading you, sweetheart.” Her tone turns a bit thoughtful. “Peggy, on the other hand, she’s a bit harder. But even that first time you brought her here, I could tell. When the time comes for you to ask, she’ll say yes.”

She’s right.

#steggysecretsanta #Steggy fic #Steve Rogers #Peggy Carter #sagesiren

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daintykeith · 3 years

Text

DESERVING

Title: Deserving

Summary: A one-shot love story featuring Arthur Morgan and John Marston in which John struggles to understand Arthur's new behavior around camp.

Word count: 1.6k+

Notes: mild cursing | feedback is appreciated!!!

Tags: @southernlynxx @rdr-secret-cupid

I’m your secret cupid, @southernlynxx !!! I'm so sorry this took forever dear; the past few weeks have been totally insane and out of my hands to control. I chose your first wish and decided to mix it up with some good reassurance (happy) angst which i found fitting for the theme;

John trying to understand & accept Arthur’s affection around camp! I hope you enjoy it, happy late Saint Valentine’s day!!!

P.D → I was inspired by this photo I took in my game! Totally worth it.

John never thought it would be like this.

At first, it was awkward—maybe bizarre. But that was just the beginning.

As the sun rose from the West, John walked out of his tent like a dead man; dark bags under his eyes and scratching his side, yawning without shame. Thirty minutes of sleep—or less—felt great. Just what he needed, right? Taking guarding rounds at night for the past few weeks to avoid him. Yes, that man. The one who had become his greatest relief and headache at the same time, Arthur Fucking Morgan.

While John agonized, Arthur was at his best. Refreshed, clean, and glowing like a damn pearl who had found its way to the surface, gleaming under the Sun—too shiny for John’s liking. Thankfully, his tormenting and seductive eyes were nowhere to be found yet. But, why was John avoiding him as if he was a pest? It’s complicated, you’ll understand later on.

John walked to the empty soup cauldron and grabbed the coffee pot next to it and a metallic cup nearby. He sighed as he sipped from the coffee he had just poured himself; feeling the smoke coming off his mouth like locomotor steam. He needed it to be functional, it had become his coal and main source of energy.

He stood next to the fire in the common area, waiting for Dutch to give a speech he had asked everyone the night before to hear. Why the hell would he give a speech so early in the morning when even the rooster hadn’t yet given his call to the sky? He wondered, staring his distorted reflection in the coffee in his hand.

It was a quiet morning, everyone who woke up, quickly waved at John and left to grab a coffee, or so it remained until the feared one appeared. He walked graciously without effort, his shirt had some buttons undone that showed his chest and collarbone, looking like a damn angel. He rinsed his face and John saw with detail from afar how every drop of water dripped down his face and neck. It made him thirsty. That man was no other than Arthur Morgan.

Arthur ran his hand through his hair and over his nape. To John, that man could’ve been the Devil himself walking on Earth, an angel who had fallen from Heaven for his ego. He was too full of himself, afly in making everyone blush in a moment’s notice. Before John could realize, Arthur was staring at the red in his cheeks and grinned, satisfied from his reaction.

“Damn you!” John whispered, looking anywhere but at him as he burned his tongue and narrowed his eyes.

Arthur, with his smug grin, quickly grabbed his coffee and sat next to the fire a few feet away from John, who didn’t know Arthur was just mesmerized with his foolishness, head over heels for a stubborn and reckless but loveable little piece of shit—a nickname truthful to his nature. A true rascal! Against his better judgement and all prognostics, an all-standing jinx befell upon him like rain in a desert.

He admired John from the ground, his strong jawline, the scars on his cheek that ran to his nose and the corner of his lips. However, his foul mouth didn’t catch up with his beauty—quick witted and far too fast for his train of thought that always got him in trouble. Arthur drank from his coffee and looked at John in the eye who, this time, didn’t turn their gaze away but held it dearly.

“What are you thinkin’ about?” John asked with his raspy voice, trying to sound uninterested but contradicted by the widened pupils in his curious eyes.

A walking contradiction, Arthur thought with a grin. “Wanna’ know?” He took a long swig of his cup and let it sit in his lap.

John hesitated for a moment. "No." Nevermind.

The blue-greened eye man cleaned the corner of his mouth with his thumb and licked it and slightly blushed. "What a shame."

John couldn't stop staring Arthur, something had lit in the corner of his mind.

"Anyway, what does Dutch want this early in the morning?"

"Don't know, don't care." Arthur rolled his eyes and looked at his feet.

John gulped, bothered by Arthur's sudden behavior to which he decided to blind the eye on.

"He's been acting... strange," John mutters, making a long pause.

He was right. Dutch had changed; it was the gleam in the eye he had always told them to not have—those of an ambition far too great, burned by being too close to the Sun. Everybody had noticed but kept quiet, making a silent agreement in not talking about the matter. John had a hunch of what it meant, but also kept quiet.

"No more than you; what's going on with ya'? Did the wolves eat the brain whole? You've been avoiding me!"

Did he notice? He knew he wasn't hiding the fact so well, but admitting it hurt his pride.

"The hell you sayin'?! No, I haven't!"

Arthur smiled in response, as if it was the answer he was expecting.

"Why?"

John narrowed his eyes.

"Why what?"

"You know."

He stood up, spilt the coffee left in his cup into the fire and slowly walked to John. His body swung with temptation, a fierce cat-walk with a daring look in his eyes. John felt like his feet were stuck to the ground, unable to take just one step aside to avoid the storm walking straight to him. His metallic eyes were bewitched by Arthur's; he sure knew how to charm him every damn time.

He didn't stop until he towered over John, trapping him with his voluptuous figure.

"Why are you so shy?" He whispered to John in the ear with a burning breath that heated and tinted his cheeks in deep red.

John forgot how to breath. He was so close that he felt their bodies touch and their minds collide.

"I, uh..."

"you what, dear?"

How shameless could the bastard be? Didn't he have any limit?

"I don't wanna talk here; let's go somewhere else." John imposed in a soft mutter.

"Alright."

They went to John's tent taking hands. They were cramped in such a small place, where their breathing burned eachother's skin and only a dim light shined through the entrance. A long pause arrived when the world had seemed to stop rotating and time had gone somewhere else, making everything but them oblivious and unimportant.

"I don't understand why are you doing this," John said with long sigh, finally giving in.

John rested his head in Arthur's shoulder, feeling his body finally relax after the tense moment.

"I thought we were a secret, ya' know?" he muttered, "a thing only you and I knew. Our thing."

Arthur combed his fingers through John's black hair, softly caressing the back of his head and humming in agreement.

"I don't seem to understand why you smile at me every time you see me or why you, like, want to touch me every time you can—or when you look at me like that."

"Does it make you uncomfortable?"

"No! I, ugh... I don't know."

Arthur chuckled. “I get it.”

John sighed in relief. Did it mean he would stop acting weird? I mean, Arthur would always be a bastard no matter how you look at it, but he called it an improvement.

“I'm sorry” he continued ”, but there's no stopping me in loving you.”

What. In. The. World. That's not what he meant!

“Arthur, you're not listening—”

“Every damn word, of course I do...”

“Then why are you doing this?!” John buried his head deeper, frustrated. “I'm an asshole, okay, I get it. But that's not a reason for you to do this to me.” Enchanting me, making me drunk with every word you whisper. Damn you.

“John, I—”

“I don't deserve it.”

A long silence between them came to be except for the more recurrent footsteps outdoors, stumping into the grass and dirt. John held tighter to Arthur, who stepped back only to take a closer look to his face, eye to eye.

“Listen closely, you little piece of shit.”

John flinched to the sudden grab by his collar, wanting to look away but Arthur only held his gaze closer.

"There's no denying that you are an idiot— but my idiot. I'm a fool myself, an old dirty bastard that's only getting older with every day that goes by, thinking that I'm the happiest man alive every damn time I look at you and even though I know I don't deserve it either. I ain't a good man, John. And you fucking know it." He grabbed his collar stronger as if it was a threat, with that dead look in his eyes that had seen the deeds their owner had done.

After Arthur realized what he did, he let John go.

“If it was about deserving, John, you would've never been mine."

He gently took John's hand laid it in his face, placing a gentle kiss in the back of his hand.

John couldn't speak a word. His mind had gone blank except for the beautiful image of Arthur lovingly playing with his fingers, laying kisses in the tip of his fingers, and the words that uttered in the corners of his mind, echoing Arthur's whispers.

"I'm sorry, John. But I beg you, let this damn fool love you and show it to you."

John placed his hand in Arthur's earlobe. As if both had read their minds, they looked into each other's eyes before leaning into a soft, gentle kiss.

Their kisses never tasted sweet. It was rough, with sweat and blood that was so common in there lives. Neither of them deserved the sweet taste of paradise, but they were making one of their own.

“You make me feel like a fool, Arthur.”

“You too.”

John wished this moment lasted forever. He wanted to enjoy the moment when their souls had gotten closer, but a voice outside called.

“Arthur, John, Where are you?!” Dutch called, irritated of waiting.

They separated and held each other's gaze for a moment.

“We should go,” John whispered tenderly as he rolled he eyes.

“Let's go,” Arthur chuckled.

Arthur gently held John's hand before heading out of the tent, ready for the world.

#rdr secret cupid 2021 #Morston #Morston2021 #Arthur Morgan #John Marston #rdr2 fanfic #rdr fanfic #rdr2 photography #rdr2 community #rdr2 #red dead redemption two #red dead fandom #red dead photo mode #rdr2 Morston

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infinite-xerath · 3 years

Text

Xerath Interactions For Every Champ

I’ve done this before, but since we have some new characters and reworks, I figure I’d go and give this another shot.

Aatrox: “Just like the empire you served, Aatrox, you are now but a shadow of greatness.”

Ahri: “The temptations of flesh do not sway me, fox.”

Akali: “Flee into your smoke, girl; it will not hide you from me!”

Alistar: “You are not yet free of your chains, minotaur; join me, and reap your revenge!”

Amumu: “Friends will inevitably betray you, child...”

Anivia: “I needed only one rebirth to achieve greatness!”

Annie: “You hold great potential, child...”

Aphelios: “You conjure weapons from another realm? Show me more.”

Ashe: “You would unite your homeland, but I shall unite the world!”

Aurelion Sol: “I acknowledge your strength, star dragon, but I am power incarnate!”

Azir: “Cling to your precious Sun, Azir; I have no more need of it!”

Bard: “You may witness my triumph, storyteller, but do not interfere!”

Blitzcrank: “Such a crude golem...”

Brand: “A power rivaling even my own... I think I shall take it!”

Braum: “Cower behind your shield; it makes no difference!”

Caitlyn: “Mine is the only law that matters!”

Camille: “I will tear that gem from your chest, machine...”

Cassiopeia: “You sought power in the tomb, serpent, and you found me.”

Cho’Gath: “You think to devour me, beast? I welcome you to try!”

Corki: “I shall blast that infernal machine from the sky!”

Darius: “You are the mightiest warrior of Noxus? How underwhelming.”

Diana: “I tore the Sun from the sky. Shall I treat the moon in-kind?”

Dr. Mundo: “Abomination! You dare to approach me?”

Draven: “Look upon me, mortal, and witness TRUE greatness.”

Ekko: “The power to control time, in the hands of a mere child!? I shall rectify this at once.”

Elise: “You think yourself immortal? Allow me to enlighten you.”

Evelynn: “I will teach you TRUE agony, demon.”

Ezreal: “Surrender that gauntlet, boy, or I will claim it from your ashes.”

Fiddlesticks: “Fear? I have cast such emotions aside.”

Fiora: “Nobility means nothing to a god.”

Fizz: “Your childish antics end here, creature!”

Galio: “You consume magic, but even a titan has limits!”

Gangplank: “Yet another dethroned king, grasping for his lost throne...”

Garen: “Crushing Demacia will be child’s play compared to Shurima.”

Gnar: “A primal rage stirs in this whelp... Interesting...”

Gragas: “Such simpletons are beneath my notice.”

Graves: “Another mercenary? Let us put your skills to the test...”

Hecarim: “A horse without its reigns? I shall soon correct that...”

Heimerdinger: “A dull mind with delusions of brilliance.”

Illaoi: “I claimed what was mine. Now, the world will move as I will it!”

Irelia: “Entertain me, dancer. That is your purpose, is it not?”

Ivern: “Your influence in the desert is lacking, ‘green father.’”

Janna: “A guardian that relies on the strength of others is meaningless...”

Jarvan IV: “What is a king to a god, Demacian? Just a man with fleeting authority.”

Jax: “Join me, Icathian, and I will see the Void itself burned!”

Jayce: “You will not be the first hero I crush, nor the last...”

Jhin: “Mad though you may be, I could offer you a greater stage...”

Jinx: “You think you know chaos, girl? Your rampage is but child’s play.”

Kai’Sa: “If a mere mortal can survive the Void, then destroying it will be easier than I imagined...”

Kalista: “Azir made an oath he could never keep; HE is the betrayer!”

Karma: “They say your wisdom is unrivaled, yet you are still foolish enough to stand against me?”

Karthus: “You mistake eternal damnation for eternal greatness, lich.”

Kassadin: “You fight a battle you cannot win; surrender your relics, and I will finish it in your stead.”

Katarina: “Your sister proved most useful, assassin...”

Kayle: “I answer to no judgement but my own!”

Kayn: “You struggle endlessly for control of one-another; I shall put you both out of your misery!”

Kennen: “You are swift as lightning, yordle, but my fury is the storm!”

Kha’Zix: “I stand at the apex of life; you can never hope to reach my level!”

Kindred: “When next I strike down Azir, ensure he does not return!”

Kled: “A mad yordle on a frightful drakalops? Is this meant to be a threat?”

Kog’Maw: “I shall end your hunger... Along with your existence!”

LeBlanc: “Your petty tricks cannot deceive me, witch!”

Lee Sin: “A pity you cannot see the error in opposing me...”

Leona: “No matter how many avatars of the sun stand against me, I shall strike them all down!”

Lillia: “Dreams are but fleeting fantasies; I have no need of them.”

Lissandra: “You think a prison of ice can hold me? You are sorely mistaken.”

Lucian: “Your weapons may banish the dead, but to me, they are little more than toys!”

Lulu: “I sense the most primal of magics within you, yordle. Where did you obtain it?”

Lux: “Your light is but a spark next to me, girl!”

Malphite: “What sort of imbecile gives life to a mountain?”

Malzahar: “You are no prophet, Malzahar; you are merely a puppet!”

Maokai: “You seek to liberate your home from the dead? That can be arranged...”

Master Yi: “A master of the blade is no match for a master of the arcane!”

Miss Fortune: “Your city requires order, and I alone can restore it.”

Mordekaiser: “You may rule the realm of the dead, but Runeterra is MINE!”

Morgana: “If you would embrace chains, then perhaps you may have mine.”

Nami: “A civilization beneath the sea? Interesting...”

Nasus: “Come to face me again, Nasus? It will end no differently than your prior attempts!”

Nautilus: “I do not pay tribute to false gods!”

Neeko: “My essence is too great for you to handle, trickster.”

Nidalee: “Human, beast, it matters not; you will bow all-the-same!”

Nocturne: “My nightmares ended long ago, demon. Now, yours begin!”

Nunu and Willump: “Naive child. You are merely a pawn, just as I was once...”

Olaf: “No death will immortalize your name, fool; I alone am eternal!”

Orianna: “To preserve your life, you became a mere husk... I almost pity you, machine.”

Ornn: “Forge for me a weapon to shatter these chains, mountain god!”

Pantheon: “You will fall before me, Targonian, just as Asose did...”

Poppy: “The world I create shall have no need of heroes.”

Pyke: “Your mind is already shattered. Now, I shall break the rest of you!”

Qiyana: “Power? Authority? Let me teach you what those words truly mean, child!”

Quinn: “Tell Demacia what you have found, scout. Whatever defenses they prepare, I WILL break!”

Rakan: “Human, vastaya, it matters not; I shall reign over both!”

Rammus: “The beast of legend... Come, let us see if your stories hold true!”

Rek’Sai: “When I am rid of you, the Great Sai will be mine!”

Rell: “Pledge your power to me, child, and let us dismantle Noxus together...”

Renekton: “Do you still recall who imprisoned us, Renekton? Do not forget the root of your hatred...”

Rengar: “I can offer you elusive prey, hunter; her name is Sivir...”

Riven: “You would challenge me with a broken blade? Are all Noxians so foolish?”

Rumble: “Yordles are said to be honored creatures. Looking upon you, I fail to see why.”

Ryze: “The World Runes must be kept from mortal hands... That is why I shall harness their power!”

Samira: “You say I destroyed your home? You will have to be more specific...”

Sejuani: “You survived the harshness of your homeland, just as I survived mine...”

Senna: “Darkness, light, it matters not; no power can rival my own!”

Seraphine: “You seek to unite your home? I will unite the WORLD, child.”

Sett: “You fight for entertainment? Very well... Entertain me.”

Shaco: “I will not indulge your twisted games, jester. Perish!”

Shen: “I alone can bring stability to this world.”

Shyvana: “Such power... Why do you waste it in service to imbeciles?”

Singed: “You are little more than a walking corpse; I will return you to the grave!”

Sion: “You think you know rage? The Butcher shall enlighten you...”

Sivir: “The kin of Azir, wielding the Chalicar... You cannot be allowed to live!”

Skarner: “So the Brackern are more than a fable... But only just.”

Sona: “A fine instrument... Go on then. Play for your emperor.”

Soraka: “You bound yourself to flesh and blood, but I have surpassed it!”

Swain: “Vision, might, guile... I am the embodiment of your ideals, general.”

Sylas: “You and I are much alike... Stand with me, and Demacia WILL fall.”

Syndra: “Your magic is potent, Syndra, but your mind is dull and clouded!”

Tahm Kench: “You have nothing to offer me, demon. Begone from my sight!”

Taliyah: “You will tell me where she went, child, or I will pry it from your dying breaths!”

Talon: “You are not the first assassin I have faced...”

Taric: “My radiance far surpasses any gem, Targonian.”

Teemo: “Your tricks cannot hide you forever, yordle...”

Thresh: “No prison can hold me, least of all your frail lantern.”

Tristana: “You wish to become a soldier? That can be arranged...”

Trundle: “You think yourself clever, troll? That you would provoke me says otherwise.”

Tryndamere: “Mightier warriors have failed to best me. You shall fare no better.”

Twisted Fate: “You confuse petty tricks for magic, gambler. That was your greatest and final mistake!”

Twitch: “It seems the Voidborn are not the only vermin I must exterminate...”

Udyr: “Do you truly control the spirits within, or do they control you?”

Urgot: “I am the ONLY one with the might to stand above all others.”

Varus: “A mighty Sunborn, reduced to a squabbling trio of corpses...”

Vayne: “YOU are Demacia’s protector from darkness? This will be easier than I had imagined...”

Veigar: “You think yourself evil incarnate? How amusing...”

Vel’Koz: “Not even YOUR twisted mind could fathom the secrets I possess.”

Vi: “To think a city that prides itself on brilliance would birth a brute such as you...”

Viego: “You are but the shadow of a man clinging to petty emotions; you are CERTAINLY no king.”

Viktor: “I alone have achieved perfection, and perfection cannot be copied.”

Vladimir: “I congratulate you on your mastery of the most primitive spellcraft known to man.”

Volibear: “Even the storm bends to my will!”

Warwick: “Another dog to hound me? I shall return you to your leash!”

Wukong: “No level of skill may rival pure power, ape!”

Xayah: “Human, vastaya, it matters not; I shall reign over both!”

Xin Zhao: “They say your will is unbreakable... I beg to differ.”

Yasuo: “What do you know of the girl called Taliyah?”

Yone: “You come to me seeking answer? Prove you are worthy of them!”

Yorick: “You would fight the undead... By raising the undead? Imbecile.”

Yuumi: “The book shall be mine, cat!”

ZAC: “What manner of twisted sorcery gave rise to an abomination such as this?”

Zed: “I will burn away your shadows and armor, and expose you for the weakling you are!”

Ziggs: “I may have use for weapons such as yours...”

Zilean: “You saved your people from the Void, only to imprison them beyond time? Icathia truly was a land of fools...”

Zoe: “Celestial magic is not a plaything, girl!”

Zyra: “The desert is no place you. Return to the jungle, or be pruned.”

#Taunts #Xerath taunts #Yup I did another one #Every single Champ #Hoo boy

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javierchvez · 3 years

Text

winter bakin’ | jovier

pairing - javier chavez & @jojohood

time - sometime around winter break

setting - the kitchens

summary - javier and jojo make cookies for the holidays

The best part of Christmas was the baking. At least that was Javier’s opinion in previous years. This year he had something even better to look forward to, and that was baking with one of his favorite people. She might not be the most adept baker, but it was still nice to have company in the kitchen. And Javier couldn’t have asked for better company than Jojo. Grabbing the last of the ingredients, he gave her a quizzical look. “Now, the only question is…” he trailed off as if to build suspense as he reached into the drawer. It wasn’t anything that needed the suspense, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t fun to make it sound like a much larger debate than it was. “Do we want to do snowmen or the traditional gingerbread man?” Though he was asking for her opinion, he definitely made his own known by nodding his head slightly towards the former.

Jojo wasn't exactly what anyone would call the most festive person, but that didn't mean she hated the holidays. How could she, when her home back in Sherwood always went all out for them? It just meant that while she admired the holiday lights and decorations and all that stuff, she didn't usually participate in any of it firsthand. She especially didn't if it had anything to do with cooking or baking, but baking holiday cookies was a fun excuse to hang out with Javier. Not that Jojo needed an excuse -- almost without her even noticing, Javier had become one of those rare people that she knew she could hit up to talk about anything, at any time. And she must like him a lot if she was here, ready to try making cookies for the first time. "Hmmm..." Jojo said outloud as she struggled to tie her long, wavy hair back into a ponytail or bun to keep it out of the way from getting burned or something like that. She considered saying gingerbread just because she knew he wanted the other one more but she ended up going with, "Fuck tradition! Let's make some tiny snowmen!" With that, she finally wrestled most of her hair into a ponytail that stayed and she wiped her hands on the side of her pants. "So, Chef Chavez, how do we start this thing? Because I'm not kidding when I say the extent of my baking knowledge is those tv competition shows."

Javier could hardly contain his excitement when she agreed with him. He honestly would have been okay with either cookie, he just liked the way the snowmen looked and the fact that they had more icing on them than the gingerbread men. “Seriously, don’t even worry about that. That’s what I’m here for,” he said, trying to make her feel better about her inexperience with baking. “I can show you what to do. It’ll all be fine, trust me.” He’d shown plenty of people how to make things. Okay, maybe not that many people, but he was sure that he could teach Jojo a simple sugar cookie recipe. “So first, we’re going to pour flour, baking powder, and salt together in a medium bowl and use this to mix it together.” He handed her a whisk as he spoke, with his other hand setting out the measuring cup to measure out the mentioned ingredients. “And while you do that, I’ll get the butter and sugar going in the mixer.” Javier waited until all the dry ingredients were properly measured before moving on to beat the butter and sugar together and tossed her a reassuring glance. “See? So far so good. You have nothing to worry about.”

"Worried? I'm not worried," Jojo lied through her teeth in the most teasing tone she could manage. She wasn't used to the part of liking somebody that made her insecure that they'd think less of her if she proved herself talentless, but at least Javier was nice about it. He was nice about everything, and besides, it wasn't like cookies were even that hard of a recipe to not fuck up. "And I do trust you," she admitted with a sigh. It was weird to say those words and even weirder to mean it, but it felt like a good kind of weird. "Alright, let's go!" She rubbed her hands together before taking the whisk from Javier and nodded. It sounded simple enough. Just mixing together weird dry powders. And whisking itself was easy enough to do, even without paying too much attention, which was good because the best part of this by far was getting to watch Javier. Even when he was doing simple stuff like beating butter and sugar together, it was kind of sexy; he was just so casually confident in the kitchen. "Right? I don't want to jinx myself but I think I might be a whisk master already. Do you ever just eat the sugar-butter mixture by itself? Because that looks good!"

Before he had been grinning at getting to do the shape he wanted, but now that grin turned into something softer; it wasn’t everyday that Javier was told that someone trusted him. Not that he’d ever do anything to make him untrustworthy, but he wasn’t naive enough to assume that absolutely nobody had preconceived notions regarding the VK’s. Although he’d never accuse Jojo of being like that. After all, if she thought something, she would say it. She was definitely not the type to say one thing and mean another, and maybe that was why he’d appreciated the comment so much, although really it wasn’t that big of a deal. They were only making cookies, not a whole lot of trust was needed in the subject, but it was still very much appreciated to be heard. And he also appreciated the enthusiasm she exuded even while doing something she had said time and time again she wasn’t good at. Javier laughed when she called herself a whisk master and peered into her bowl, a playful gasp leaving his lips. “Wow, that’s the best whisking job I’ve ever seen. And that’s coming from me.” Her question gave him a slight pause, a look of guilt spreading over his face briefly. “Uh, yeah, but no judging me! I only did it the first time I made cookies over here because, well, it was the first time I’d made cookies with fresh ingredients. And I do not suggest eating just butter and sugar. It’s kind of gross.”

Jojo rolled her eyes but couldn't help but smile at Javier's surprised gasp; joking around in a kitchen together was annoyingly just as much fun as the lame people in romcoms made it seemed, and she kind of hated herself for actually puffing up a little bit at his playful compliments. Maybe it was too late for her and she was officially a fool with feelings. She'd think about that later, though. Right now, she had a handsome and hilarious boy to mock. "Um, permission to remain unjudged denied! I can't say I don't get the temptation though. It looks freaking tasty." She looked down at the mixture and then over at Javier with mischief twinkling in her eyes. "Hey, are you one of those cooks that gets weird about people sticking their fingers in your food?" she added, sticking a finger out menacingly towards the butter and sugar bowl. "Do you dare me to taste it?”

“I just told you it was gross and you still wanna try it?” Javier asked, laughing as her finger neared the mixing bowl. “I’m not one of those, no, but like I said, I really advise against it.” He made sure the mixer was off before tipping the bowl towards her. “But if you really want to do it, be my guest. Just don’t blame me when it’s the worst thing you’ve ever had. I warned you it was gross.” He had to admit, even though there wasn’t much baking being done and more messing around, he was having a great time. It was always a good time with Jojo, no matter what they were doing. “I’m about to add vanilla, egg, and almond extract though, if you’d rather wait. We’re almost to dough and that tastes a lot better than just butter and sugar.”

For someone who had never been in any relationship before and had only really seen successful ones, Jojo really had a bad habit of waiting for the other show to drop, and so she kept expecting Javier to get annoyed that she delaying their progress, or that she was just goofing off, but it felt more and more like waiting for something that wouldn't come, and that made it easier to be herself. "Yeah! You can't call something gross and honestly not expect me to try and test it out," Jojo snickered. She loved self-imposed dares and trying new shit out, and this felt like a good opportunity to do both of those things. She considered waiting for a moment so she could have the full dough experience as Javier suggested but then she just shrugged. "I'll try it when you get it all doughy too but I'm too curious right now!" Her finger swiped the edge of the mixture and scooped some up. "Cheers," she laughed, popping it into her mouth and keeping eye contact with him the whole time. The taste wasn't as bad as she had been expecting and she covered her mouth with her hands as she laughed. "Dude... is it bad that I liked it?"

Sure, he’d definitely had worse tasting things on the Isle, but this was gross more so because of texture than anything else. Just watching Jojo eat it made him grimace, remembering his reaction the first time he’d tried the mixture. It was not at all the one she gave him now, and Javier couldn’t help but snicker. “I mean, everyone’s got different tastes?” He responded, reaching for the next set of ingredients to add to the bowl. “But I’m telling you. Nothing's gonna beat the dough. I know they say you shouldn’t eat raw dough because of the eggs and what not, but it’s still amazing. I could sit and eat an entire bowl of it, honestly. Who needs actual cookies when the dough tastes a little better?” After adding in the vanilla and eggs, Javier added the dry ingredients, setting the mixer to low and letting it do its thing. “So, thought about how you wanna decorate your snowman? Do we want royal icing or would you rather use fondant?”

Jojo felt even more like smiling at the look on Javier's face; he looked absolutely aghast, and it genuinely cracked her up that she could gross him out a little bit. And then he laughed and it made her laugh, and her heart felt light. She was still getting used to the fact that somebody's emotions had such sway on hers, but it felt so good right now. "I love raw cookie dough, man," she laughed. "I'd eat it all day, but I guess I wait until they're real cookies. That's the Christmassy thing to do, yeah? And I'm not sure. How are you going to decorate yours? Not that I'm planning on copying you, but you're the kitchen genius here! I'm not even sure I know what fondant is, actually, except that the cooking shows say it's hard to use. Which of those is more fun to lick off? I vote for the best licking experience!"

“You have no idea what fondant is? Wow, I really have failed to teach you anything,” Javier sighed exaggeratedly and shook his head. “But at least you know it’s hard to work with, and honestly it doesn’t taste great. It just makes decorations look better. Especially when you’re trying to create a scene or build something. Royal icing it is, but don’t expect it to come right off when you lick it like regular frosting does. As for how I’m decorating… I’m not sure. I guess I was just gonna do a regular old Frosty type snowman. Boring, huh?” He was really glad that they’d gotten the chance to do this, especially since she’d always said she wasn’t any help in the kitchen. It was nice to have someone other than his sister or dad in there with him, and someone he could really joke around with like they had been. Javier really felt a connection with Jojo, and it made him really happy to know that she hadn’t gotten sick of him yet. He hoped that day wouldn’t come for a long, long time, if it ever did come. For now, though, they had cookies to worry about. What the future held for them could wait; besides, it was much for fun to live in the present with her. “Ready to roll it out? You wanna do the honors?”

"It's not my fault you look hot when you're explaining kitchen stuff," Jojo complained, fake-fanning herself as if he was too sexy at this moment to even stand. "It makes it hard to listen to you when I just wanna kiss your face." She was good at saying bold stuff like that over text but in person, it made her blush a little and she let herself listen about the icing instead. "Eh, some people say boring. Some say classic. Me? I say boring," she joked, "but it'll taste delicious for sure." She nodded when asked about rolling out the cookies and she excitedly took the roller to the dough, ready to show her stuff. "You're not going to get behind me like a guy in the movies to 'show me how it's done', are you?" Jojo jested, her strong forearms making quick work of the dough.

Javier “looking hot” was something he was still getting used to; the only time he thought the word described him at all was in a literal sense, not an attractive sort of way. He scoffed lightly and rolled his eyes, muttering a “yeah, right” as he busied himself cleaning the area while she rolled out the dough. “You know, I kind of thought you’d say that,” he joked, moving the ingredients no longer needed out of the way to make room for the icing. Egg whites, vanilla, and confectioner’s sugar were pulled out instead, and measured carefully into a new bowl for the standing mixer. “Wow, do I really come across as that kind of guy?” Javier snorted, trying and failing to feign offense. He traded his expression for a small pout, adding on, “I didn’t think you thought so little of me.”

Jojo was very familiar with the sort of reaction Javier let out when she called him hot -- honestly, it was the kind of reaction she always had whenever anybody complimented her looks. She was convinced she was the worst looking in her family and just sort of weird-looking in general, but that was different; Javier was actually hot, super fucking hot. She'd thought so even before they started whatever this was. "It's true," she sighed, but otherwise let it go as they started preparing the icing and she licked her lips in anticipation for tastiness. Jojo giggled at his false-offense, raising a brow at him. "Maybe I just wanted to get you behind me," she quipped, shrugging a shoulder. "But seriously though, no. You're the least 'that kind of guy' I've ever met. It's why you're my favorite."

‘You’re my favorite,’ wow. Javier hadn’t expected to hear those words or have the kind of reaction he did; he could feel his cheeks warm as a smile tore across his face. The only people he’d been the favorite of were his father and sister, and that didn’t have nearly the same effect on him as hearing it from Jojo. “Favorite, huh?” he echoed teasingly, or at least that’s how he meant to repeat it. He was sure it didn’t come off quite like that with his cheeks still tinted with blush. It probably came off more like a schoolgirl laughing a bit too hard at a joke her crush had just told, which truth be told did describe how he was feeling at that moment a little bit. Giddy, giggling to himself in a slightly idiotic manner in response to something his crush said. Javier cleared his throat to compose himself a bit, busying his hands with the icing that was quickly coming together. “And if that’s what you really want, I guess I can show you how to pipe the icing onto the cookie. Have you ever used this stuff before? It’s kind of fun, a little like coloring if I’m being honest. Just draw a border around the area you want to ice and then fill it in,” while he explained, he separated the icing into several bowls so they could color it for whatever accessories their snowmen would be wearing. “Is the dough ready to cut and bake?”

#para #para: jojo #para: winter bakin'#asujojo #/ hi remember when you said like forever ago this should be posted??#/ it sat in a google doc for way too long after that lmao my bad #/ also titles are hard lmao #/ this one is awful

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ben10daily · 3 years

Text

happy day 4 of gwevin week ☀️ this fic is written for the prompt of the day: deception. thanks as always to @brooken-gwevin-weeks for organising!

title: one swing ahead of the sword words: 1,100 summary: everything is not what it seems. au.

Kevin craned his neck to peer out through the gilded doorway of the Lord’s Suite, and into the empty corridor beyond. All clear, for a while at least.

He’d been camped outside one of the arched windows for hours before dropping through it. All that precious time spent lying flat under a bush in the court gardens, just to track guard changes and the frequency of patrols in this wing of the castle. But it meant his ears were now fine-tuned to the heavy stomp of their armoured footsteps from at least a hundred yards away.

Things had been going surprisingly well so far, but he didn’t want to jinx himself. After scaling the high wall along the outer perimeter in the early hours of the morning, and crawling through foliage that pricked and prodded at his skin through his dark leathers, he was not about to leave without his prize. Meaning, of course, coins, jewellery, silks, and whatever else he could get his hands on. He had mouths to feed – namely, his own – and loan sharks breathing down his sweat-slicked neck for money he sure couldn’t afford to pay back.

Argit had called him stupid for even attempting this, like his opinion meant anything to Kevin. He didn’t take advice from scruffy orphan kids, especially ones who made a living stealing vegetables from absent-minded market vendors. He was on his way to better places; all he needed was a sack-full of loot from the rich jerks in this castle.

Once Kevin had marked out where the patrols were least frequent, he’d located the nearest room, and inside it the biggest canopy bed he’d ever seen. Temptation was strong – he hadn’t slept well in weeks – but so too were the ever-present hunger pangs wailing from the pits of his stomach. With great effort, Kevin bypassed the bed and instead raided the heaving walk-in closet for a suitable disguise.

The high-collared doublet he decided on was a narrow fit, and the creases chafed at him under both arms. But after combing his hair out and dabbing his wrists and neck with whatever filled the array of nearby fragrance bottles, Kevin was feeling very unlike himself, which was exactly what he needed.

Back out in the hallway, he walked with confidence along the deep red carpets leading to the first corner. Frankly, he had no clue where he was going. He’d already filled his pockets with gold rings and jewels from the bedroom; the kitchen was his next target, wherever that might be, but it wasn’t like he could stop someone and ask for directions.

Rounding the corner, Kevin almost broke his nose on the metal plate of a guard’s helmet before jumping back in surprise.

That wasn’t supposed to happen. Why was there a guard there, 10 minutes too early?

“Apologies, sir, I didn’t mean to alarm you,” said a woman’s voice from under the helmet, and Kevin realised this was perhaps the shortest soldier he’d seen all day.

“Yeah, whatever.” Kevin checked himself. “I mean, uh, that’s all right. Carry on.”

The soldier raised a gloved hand up, and Kevin tensed, but rather than reaching for a weapon she simply lifted the visor on her helmet. Emerald green eyes blinked up at him curiously, and Kevin almost backed up a second time at the pretty face now glancing over his shoulder and down the hallway he’d just taken.

“Most of the nobility have already taken their seats for dinner, sir. Are you…” she trailed off, and Kevin worked to keep his expression neutral, entitled, but may have landed on irritated. “Lost?”

“No,” he said shortly, straightening his posture. At least she hadn’t pinned him for a thief just yet. An idiot, maybe, but he could work with that.

“Then can I escort you to the dining hall?”

“I’m not hungry.” The lie blurted out of his mouth before he could help it, followed almost immediately by the guttural churn of his empty stomach. Kevin flushed, knowing she must have heard that, too. “Or, I mean, I’m not feeling well. So I thought I’d go to the kitchens instead for some,” he paused to consider what a lord might drink instead of the hard canal water routinely poisoning the local townspeople, “wine.”

“I see,” the soldier said, nodding like this was reasonable. Kevin congratulated himself on a successful lie, and stepped forward to move past her.

“So, if you’ll excuse me—"

“I’ll escort you there.”

She had laid a hand on his shoulder. When he turned his head to look at her, in rickety jolts like his neck was snapping under the effort, she was beaming at him as if permitting some great favour.

Kevin had, of course, prepared himself for the possibility that he’d need to kill someone to make it this far, but how the hell was he supposed to attack a woman who looked at him like that? Her grip was like a vice on his shoulder, and he felt his traitorous body start to sweat. She wouldn’t let up, and he didn’t know where he was going; there was no way around it.

“Sure, that sounds, uh, reasonable. You lead the way.”

He followed her from one corridor to the next, past door after door and his hands itched to open them all, just to see what treasures they might contain. But he couldn’t do anything suspicious with this eager soldier glued to his side. So he walked, and kept walking, and some of the turns started to look familiar after a while. How big was this castle?

“Here we are,” the soldier said, finally drawing to a stop outside two tall wooden doors. “I hope you feel better soon, sir.”

Kevin thanked her and, as an afterthought, leaned into what he hoped was a respectful bow. Then, realising he was posing as nobility with no obligation to bow for random guards, no matter how pretty, straightened his back and almost ran into the kitchen.

When both doors latched shut behind the strange young lord, Gwen exhaled heavily and pulled the helmet off her head, running a hand through strands of long, red hair in relief. For a second there, she thought he might have noticed that she was well outside the normal patrol route. Or that she was alone where the rest of the guards had worked in pairs.

He hadn’t even commented on her poor sense of direction. Wealth really was no substitute for a brain. Smiling, Gwen pressed a hand to her bulging pockets and sauntered off in search of more loot.

#ben 10 #gwevin week #*fic #*

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