For the trope mash-up post, may I request Fake Dating and Soulmate AU for Drarry please, if it sparks any fun inspiration?
(P.S. you're wonderful and I will love literally anything you come up with, even if it's not for these prompts, I just got super excited when you posted this 💜)
No, YOU'RE wonderful!!
So this is what came to me - and I can actually see the rest of the story but I have to go adult for a bit, but I am going to come back later and write some more of this! (As per usual, this is pretty much SOOC and unbeta'd, etc etc.)
Draco’s known since the Final Battle.
He’s pretty sure Potter has no idea, whether it’s that no one’s remembered to tell him about soulmates, or that his mark hasn’t activated yet, but he treats Draco exactly the way he’s treated him since they'd all arrived at University. He’s unfailingly polite, cool and distanced, and deeply disinterested in one Draco Malfoy.
Which isn’t, you know, how you’re supposed to treat your soulmate.
The thumbprint on Draco’s wrist had flared to life when Potter had grabbed his arm to haul him onto the back of the battered broom that carried them both out of the fire. He’d almost fallen off at the way Potter’s magic had rushed over him, through him. Draco had always heard the stories that connecting with your soulmate could be disorienting, but since it happened to him in the midst of mortal terror, Draco’s not sure his experience was typical.
It’s also very rare that one person connects and the other doesn’t, although it does happen. It takes time for the bond to solidify, to grow into a true soulmate connection, and obviously, that’s not happened here. Basically, Potter is a faint echo in Draco’s mind, enough to distract and ache a little, nothing more than that.
All this to say, it’s weird when Potter comes dashing into their suite common room one Saturday afternoon, looking wild-eyed and somewhat disheveled. It’s a rainy day, raw and windy, the kind of day where Draco does not plan to leave the building if he can help it. Potter is damp and windblown, so he clearly had other ideas. Fucking weirdo.
Potter looks around wildly, and lights up when he spots Draco curled up on the couch under his favorite striped blanket.
“Malfoy,” he says eagerly, and Draco blinks up at him in surprise.
Potter’s never sounded happy to see Draco before.
“Yes?” Draco says cautiously. “Can I help you?”
Potter nods vigorously. “You can, yes, absolutely. I need you to pretend to be my soulmate and go to the gala with me tonight.”
“I beg your pardon?” Draco asks, trying to make sense of the words he’s just heard. “You need me to what?”
Potter hangs his coat on the rack by the door, kicks off his grubby trainers and makes his way around the couch to plop down next to Draco.
“I need you to pretend to be my soulmate and go to the gala with me tonight.”
“That’s what I thought you said,” Draco says. “But also, what the fuck are you talking about?”
Potter sighs, lets his head rest on the back of the couch and runs a hand through his unruly hair.
“You know how the press…” his voice trails off and he flushes.
“Follows you around incessantly and makes your life a living hell?” Draco says dryly. “Yes, Potter, I’m aware.”
“Well, someone thought it was a good idea to advertise that I haven’t found my soulmate, and to suggest that anyone who’s unbonded should come to the gala tonight and you know. Shoot their shot or whatever.”
Draco sits bolt upright, outraged. “What the hell? That’s bullshit. That’s not even how it works!”
Potter just sighs again and slumps down even further, eyes closed. “Yeah, I know that, but it’s turned into this whole thing, and every girl in the greater Oxford area, apparently, is now coming to the gala.”
“Can’t you just… not go?”
Potter shakes his head, looking miserable. “No. The Fund is really important to me. I promised to speak.”
“So your solution is to fake a soulmate bond with a man?” Draco asks and Potter snorts.
“Okay, well, when you put it like that, it does sound stupid. I just thought if I could get them all off my back for a bit… No, you’re right. I’ll just have to get a bodyguard again, I guess.”
He sounds so utterly miserable that Draco can’t help but feel sorry for him, which is why he finds himself saying, “Yeah, I’ll do it.”
Potter opens his eyes to stare at Draco. “What?”
Draco shrugs. “I’m not doing anything tonight, there’ll be wine at the gala, yeah?”
Potter looks excited but then his face falls. “But what about your soulmate? What if they’re out there looking for you?”
Draco looks away and swallows. “That won’t be a problem.”
Potter’s eyes narrow. “Why not?” He sucks in a breath and whispers, “Malfoy, do you know who your soulmate is?”
Draco just nods and there’s a long silence while Potter clearly puts some picture together in his head. He’s never been stupid, Draco concedes. Since for all intents and purposes, Draco is unbonded, Potter must know there’s something wrong with all of it.
Finally Potter says, “If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure,” Draco says and finally turns to look at Potter. “It’ll be fun,” he says carelessly. “What should I wear?”
Here’s the beginning of my fic that I’m super super proud of ohmygod
-DRACO
The hairdresser’s hands worked quickly on Draco’s long blonde hair, combing and misting and buzzing.
Yes, buzzing.
Draco Malfoy was officially letting go of his Malfoy identity, and that started with shearing off the trademark Malfoy locks.
“Are you sure about this style? It’s a big change, hon…” Sharon, his middle-aged hairdresser, said.
Draco looked at her blankly. “If I wasn’t sure, then I wouldn’t be here, would I?’ he drawled.
“I guess not,” she replied. However, she paused again. “I don’t think your parents would approve of such a modern look, though. Can you get your parents to sign off on the blue, at the very least?”
Draco glowered at her. “They’re dead, you daft cow. Besides, I’m eighteen, which means I have the authority to do things without my parent's permission, you see?” Stupid hairdresser, he thought. He had no patience for almost anyone these days.
Sharon was utterly taken aback by both the insult and his statement, and turned about six shades of purple before finally saying, “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Draco sneered, “be the person providing my coping mechanism. Make it good enough that the hottest guy in school notices and instantly gets hard.”
Sharon froze for a moment, then laughed awkwardly. “Did you mean the hottest gir-”
“Sharon, did I fucking stutter?”
She started stuttering herself, sputtering and carrying on like an idiot. Draco sighed. “Don’t make this harder than getting literal fucking needles to inject ink under my skin.” He glanced at the tattooed flowers adorning his Dark Mark. Beautiful depictions of narcissus flowers curled around it, making the snake and skull nearly unrecognizable. Draco had the tattoo artist charm them so they could cover the black ink of the Mark and even grow or shrink when he wanted. All he had to do was imagine the flowers moving, and they shifted and grew right on his arm however he wanted.
Sharon shook her head, seemingly bewildered at the audacity of teenage boys these days. Draco, however, had a plan, and she was able to put it in motion.
OKAY NOW TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT. This is the first fic I’ve ever written (it’s gonna be Drarry lol) and I'm super proud of this bit. Should I continue? Do we want more? Do we want it on ao3?
@drarry-days-forever @s0n-0f-a-snitch thanks for this idea yeet
Thanks to a couple of blogs around here, there was so much Casey Novak on my dash... so here, have some Calex?
-pt 1
The music washed over Alex as her eyes adjusted to the casually dim lighting of the club. She took a deep breath, easing out of her day and walked inside doing a mild double take at recognizing someone at the bar.
Alex considered the woman before her who was deep in thought and staring at the melting ice in her almost empty glass.
She watched her for a moment before deciding to join her. She motioned to the bartender, “Two more,” she said, indicating the woman sitting under the dim lights at the bar.
Casey Novak looked up and raised her eyebrows in question.
“Can I buy you a drink, you look like you could use another,” Alex said as she gently placed the fresh drink in front of the redhead. “It’s nice to see you, Casey.”
“Thanks,” She said, almost a hint of question in her voice. Casey raised her eyebrows but motioned for Alex to sit down next to her. “Fancy meeting you here.”
Alex tilted her head and considered the atmosphere. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for a jazz fan.”
“Well, I am,” she said, and then smirked. “But, Granger picked the place.”
“You just missed him,” Casey smile revealed her chagrin.
“I’m hoping it was a business meeting? That’s a hell of a dress.”
“Thanks,” Casey laughed. “He’s been trying to talk me into a few things,” she started and paused to gather the gist of the conversations. “The paramount of which would be appealing the censure that I’m sure you’ve heard about. Apparently the only thing he hates more than prosecutorial misconduct is when said prosecutor has been excessively raked over the coals for that misconduct - you know, instead of just being slapped. I guess he really is into fairness, but he also wants me for his firm’s white collar clients. He’s relentless.”
“Well, God knows I don’t want to agree with Granger, but he’s right about the appeal. You should let him represent you. He’d be good.”
“He loves hearing that he’s right. I’ll be sure to let him know you think so.” She finished the last of her initial drink one long gulp.
Alex finished hers one moment later and motioned toward the new ones waiting for them on the bar.
“You trying to catch up with me?” Casey asked.
Alex simply smiled.
“Casey,” she said, her tone somehow shushing. “I’ve been on the bad side of Donnely’s temper. You were used as an example. They hit you with the maximum penalty on your first offense. You should absolutely appeal. You do know that half of all BAR discipline appeals are granted anyway. Half. That’s better odds than you’ll find anywhere.You should seriously consider it.”
“Consider it?” Casey sighed and started on the drink that Alex had bought for her. “It’s all I can think about. It’s all anyone wants to talk to me about, even more than the weather or the world series.”
“You need to expand your social circle,” Alex said, holding her glass up.
“That’s certainly true,” Casey toasted, clinking her glass to Alex’s. “Well, that’s my story, let’s talk about you. Was it the music that brought a girl like you here, straight from work tonight?” She motioned vaguely at Alex’s suit jacket.
Alex laughed. And Casey was surprised to really like the clear, bright sound of it. “Just a long day, and I wanted to relax. I found this place before I -went away.” she trailed off. She took a large sip before continuing. “I’m just happy it’s still around.”
“You seem to be doing amazingly well. You’ve made un-erasing your life look positively effortless.”
She rolled her eyes. “Coming back from the dead is mostly paperwork,” she smirked. “But calling off a sudden engagement is hardly an indication of smooth reintegration to society.”
“Well, other than that,” Casey winked and lightly bumped Cabot’s heel with her own, moving slightly on the stool, exposing just a bit more of a smooth, toned thigh.
Alex laughed and looked down at the offending leg and shook her head. “You are all legs,” she commented. “I forgot how tall you are.”
Casey smirked and looked at their feet. “I think we’re a similar height, but your heels have a good inch or two on mine.”
Alex tsked. “Shoes make all the difference.”
“How are you enjoying Appeals?”
“I have been more stimulated,” Alex said. She was suddenly tempted to brush a long lock of red hair that had fallen in front of Casey’s eyes back, but stopped herself. “However, it is nice to have a reprieve from supervising baby ADAs.”
“I heard Jim Steele up and resigned.”
Alex smiled. “It was a rough time, but he’s the type that would benefit from being his own boss.”
“He always did have trouble with authority,” Casey said, not hiding a smirk.
“I wasn’t the one who said it.” Alex said, smiling in response.
“It was good to see him finally taking some responsibility.” She swirled the ice in her drink in thought. “If Kibre goes out on her own are you going to go for her position? I hear you’re good for it.”
“I didn’t realize the rumor mill had gotten around to that yet.”
“Like you said, I probably should expand my social circle.”
“I’m thinking about it. A homicide bureau would have fewer brand new ADAs to monitor.”
Casey shook her head. Alex was a beautiful, composed woman, and her everyday expression was inscrutable. Making her smile or laugh seemed to bring out so much more in her.
“Would you like another round before it gets too late?” Alex said. They’d been there a while but she was having a good time and it was surprisingly easy conversation.
“Oh, I don’t know, any more drinks and I’m likely to start drifting into less safe conversational territory.”
“And pray tell, what would that entail?”
“Well, probably something to do with how ridiculously blue your eyes are,” Casey said, the alcohol in her system delaying the blush that should have accompanied such an inadvertent admission.
“Interesting limit.” Alex smirked and the pleasure of it shown in her eyes.
“Damn,” Casey smiled and her dimples deepened. “I must have missed the warning signs a drink ago.”
Alex tilted her head and slowly smiled. She didn’t know if it was the setting or if it had just been previous circumstances when they last met, but the woman was prettier than Alex remembered. Porcelain skin, bashful smile. She was wearing a simple black dress with a neckline that hinted at cleavage, and thin straps made the most of Casey’s toned arms and shoulders.
“You really do have the shoulders for that dress,” she said, running a finger gently across the top of one of the smooth arms she was admiring.
Casey swallowed in surprise as goosebumps raced along her skin, and she knew that her reaction (the surprise as well as the desire) was evident.
As was the fact that Cabot was able to get the upper hand every time she met with the woman.
Casey has suspected earlier in the evening that she was being flirted with. But it was artful and subtle and she just couldn’t quite bring herself believe it. But then again, she had been off her game lately.
Alex was beautiful. Stunning actually. And there was a look in her eyes tonight. A challenge. The woman seemed to have every intention to bat her around like a cat with a toy, and she never liked to back down from a challenge. At least, that is what she would tell herself- but she did feel something akin the competitor inside start to wake up.
Alex did in fact, take advantage of the mildly-stunned moment to stand, closing the gap between them and gently ease into Casey’s personal space. Close enough to know the light scent Casey wore suited her, and to feel the warmth radiating from her body.
The part of Casey felt a little too good, a little too relaxed from the alcohol and the music became amused, and it was that part that made Casey’s eyebrow rise in challenge as she looked back at the Alex with an expression that could only be read as -I dare you.
Alex thought Casey should have known better. That she wouldn’t back down from a challenge, not from some strange game of flirting-chicken. She leaned in, assured that Casey wasn’t backing away and kissed her with a hard meeting of their lips - for a moment- then it turned softer, deeper, open mouthed and highly suggestive, but not showy.
Alex pulled back before they get too far into it, letting the sounds and the setting come back into their reality. She looked at a stunned Casey with equal parts smugness and pleasant surprise that morphed into resolve.
“Do you want to get out of here?” and nodded toward the door with her head. Casey followed her without another word.
Casey couldn’t even seem to get herself on equal footing, even though she tried. She had been pretty sure that for a split second, Alex was surprised that she returned her challenge in the bar. However, Alex knew that she’d come home with her when she asked. She just knew. She was able to read Casey that well. Casey could deal with that auspicious beginning. But what she wasn’t expecting, once she was inside her apartment, was for Alex to push her up against the wall and pin her with hands and legs and hips. By the time Alex tugged off the dress she seemed so fond of, Casey was already panting softly against Alex’s cheek.
And then she was backed toward a bed until she could feel it against her legs and being kissed breathless. Her hands were Alex’s hair and her back, pulling her tightly.
Casey was enthusiastic and her hands were deft, teasing and fast on the buttons of Alex’s shirt. She became incredibly fond of a couple of ticklish squirms she caused along the way. So much so that her dimples flashed in her amusement.
Alex pushed her onto the bed in retaliation. She just laughed and raised herself up on her elbows, waiting.
The body crawling up over her was glorious and sensuous. All amazingly soft skin and curves that she could not stop running her hands over.
Alex maneuvered her leg between Casey’s causing her to roll her hips and pull her tightly. Casey made a noise between a growl and a moan and wasn’t able to be more articulate than that for quite a while.
Casey rolled over and hummed. Alex laughed and brushed a long lock of hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. She gave a small smile and sighed in satisfaction and quietly enjoyed the moment for about ten seconds and then said, “You’ve been on Donnelly’s bad side since you asked her to recuse herself.”
Casey laughed, highly amused at the pillow talk and that the conversation picked up right where it left off earlier. She should have known that Cabot would never let a point drop. “How do you know that?”
“Like you said Casey, take your pick… the courthouse, the office, thin walls, we all tend to get lunch, coffee, and alcohol in the same places.” She let that sink in, pulling up the sheet a bit over her now cooling body. “It’s a small community if you think about it.”
“Asking her to recuse herself, that wasn’t from me. It was on the behalf of the DA.”
“It always is. By the way, I know of at least two Brady violations that our current DA wiggled out of himself.”
Casey sighed. “Yeah, but he was at least able to wiggle out.”
“You never did play the power game.”
“I don’t have the patience for it.”
“Evidently,” Alex smirked. “SVU warped your perspective. It happened to me too. You do know I’ve been suspended before.”
“Not your license,” Casey said, prevaricating. She got up and fished around for her purse.
“Going already?”
Casey smiled at her. “I was just,” she bit her lip and looked away, “I had the urge for a cigarette.”
Alex grinned unabashedly, her ego preening fully.
“The who damn suspension has me started again.”
“Go ahead and stick with that answer if it makes you feel better,” she said, and then winked.
Casey laughed silently.
“You can do that here, you know.”
“I’m not smoking over your 1300 thread count sheets.”
“The balcony is right through there,” Alex motioned. She got up, walked to her closet and threw Casey a robe.
Casey found the door, nestled amid the architectural flourishes of the building and stepped out into the cool air.
“I would never have taken you for a smoker. You have always had that whole athletic vibe going on.” Alex had given her minute or two before following her out.
“On and off in law school,” Casey said. She waved her fingers in lieu of a shrug. “Before the censure it had truly been just every once in a while, one or two a year at most.”
Alex leaned on the iron railing next to Casey, motioned for the cigarette, and took one drag before handing it back.
“This is not a balcony, by the way. This is an entire terrace. I can’t believe you have a terrace,” Casey said, watching Alex, “In Manhattan.”
“Comes with a garage parking spot and an option for a second too.”
Casey smirked and shook her head but her chest moved with silent laughter.
“You know, if you do leave SVU, or if your suspension continues… you’re going to be okay. Some things will even be better than okay.” She looked out into the blinking, beautiful cityscape. “It’ll be easier to fall asleep and it is much easier on dinner conversation.”
Casey remained silent and just looked at her.
“You should find something to keep busy.”
“Yes, because I’m currently very employable.”
“Casey, you do know we went to the same school.” It was not a question. “‘Cast a wider net.’” She flourished with her hand, indicating the city before them.
“Alex, I am an adult and capable of making grown up decisions myself, you know.”
Alex smirked at her and waited a beat.
Casey rolled her eyes but sighed and nodded her head. “God, maybe I should leave well enough alone. Start over somewhere new.”
“That does not sound like a very capable adult decision. No one leaves New York willingly.”
“I know.” She sighed. “I have a legacy apartment too.”
“People would smack you for even thinking about leaving a legacy,” Alex said. “You can’t tell me you don’t have a contact or two that could help you out.”
“I don’t want to go begging for a random job just to have something to do.” She leaned on the railing and looked back out a the cityscape.
“You wouldn’t help one of your old classmates, a friend- if they had a problem? If you could?”
She didn’t answer.
“Besides, if I remember right, with your particular strong suits- you could easily do research, analysis, writing.”
“What did you look up my law review articles too?”
“I am nothing if not thorough,” she said, letting the shameless self confidence into her voce to add levity to the conversation. “I had to give those baby ADAs something to do and the right prosecutors to emulate.”
Casey sighed.
“There’s no need to tie yourself up in knots about what happened. You can only focus on what’s in front of you. What is your next move,” she motioned decisively with her hands. “So- what is it you want? Right now. What do you want next?”
Casey shook her head and gave a silent laugh before turning toward Alex and grinning lasciviously.
Alex moved to stand behind her. She brushed the hair away and placed a kiss on the back of her neck. She liked this spot and added nips of her teeth in between the pulsing of her tongue. “Good, “ she said. “That’s what I wanted too.”
She let her hands wander until Casey started breathing harder, flicked away the cigarette, and finally leaned her head to allow for more access.
“Be careful there,” Casey said. Even though she said it softly in-between breaths, her voice had gotten deeper and rougher. “Don’t start something you can’t keep up with.”
Alex smirked then said, “See, I knew you still have some fight left in you,” and pulled her back into the apartment before she could say anything else.
(because I hear there was some sort of sportsball thing today, have a really bad idea. Or at least the start of one. It's copperbadge fault. )
Steve stared up at the jumbotron. “I hate this,” he said.
“What, the KissCam?” Nat said, barely sparing it a glance. She had her arms folded on the railing on the edge of the box, and her attention was down on the field. “It's harmless.”
Steve's mouth thinned out. “It seems like crowd pressure to make people do something that they wouldn't usually do in public,” he said. “It's not right.”
“It's tacky and stupid and embarrassing,” Rhodey agreed from Nat's other side. “Which means it's really popular, Cap.”
“Most popular things are at least one of those three,” Tony said. He was staring down at his phone, his thumbs flicking against the surface so fast that they were almost invisible. “The really popular ones are all three.” He waved a hand. “And the crowd must be distracted for the three minutes when play is stopped.”
“Otherwise, they are likely to turn on each other,” Nat agreed, a smile curling her lips.
“It's not right,” Steve said, crossing his arms over his chest. The camera focused in on a girl and boy, and she blushed bright red, hiding her face behind her hands, and then, when it was clear that they weren't going to move on, she leaned over and planted a kiss on the boy's cheek. To general laughter, the camera moved on.
“Your general hatred of bullies is noted,” Nat said, her eyes dancing.
“It's not right,” Steve said.
“I think we need to distract him with food,” Rhodey said.
“We could, but we sent Sam and Clint out for snacks, and that's why we're still hungry,” Nat said.
“How is that possible?” Tony looked up. “How- We're in the luxury box. There's food right there.” He tipped his head forward to peer through the windows over the top of his sunglasses. “I can see the food. And Thor and Coulson are right there, but no sign of either of the birdbrains. Where the hell did they go?”
“It's Clint and Sam,” Nat said, her eyes rolling up. “I'll bet you ten dollars that they decided they needed 'real' ballpark food and headed out into the stadium proper.”
“That is a stupid bet, no one will take that bet, because they are gone.” Tony slumped low in his seat. “I am not paying for whatever culinary nightmare they come back with.”
“Yes, you are,” Rhodey said, not even looking in his direction.
“Yes, I am,” Tony sighed, and Steve laughed. Tony grinned over at him, a quick flash of teeth, and Steve felt himself relax.
Right up until he glanced up and saw his own face, and Nat's, on the dang jumbotron. He glared at it, any sense of humor disappearing in an instant. “Don't look now,” he heard Rhodey said, and Nat glanced up. On the massive screens, she was beautiful, her cheeks pink, and her copper hair glowing in the sunlight.
“Kiss him, kiss him, kiss him!” the crowd chanted and Natasha let out a tiny sigh, and Steve saw red.
“Kiss him?” he muttered. “You want a kiss? Fine.” Without a thought, without allowing himself to think, he reached out, snagged Tony by the front of the shirt, and dragged him around. Tony let out a tiny yelp, and Steve had a second to see his wide, confused eyes through his sunglasses, and then Steve was kissing him.
Right on the mouth.
He'd intended it to be a quick thing, a kiss on the lips and then let him go, and it was Tony, Tony wouldn't care, Tony'd done worse, and Tony loved messing with people. A kiss, a quick kiss, and he'd apologize for it later, not that he thought Tony would care, but still, this was rude, this was horrible, but it was just a quick kiss.
Except then it wasn't.
Except Tony's mouth was warm and soft under his, despite the scratch of his beard against Steve's chin, and without thinking, Steve tilted his head to the side, angling his mouth over Tony's. And Tony took that as a prompt to deepen the kiss, his tongue ghosting along the seam of Steve's lips until they parted. Steve had lost track of what had happened, somehow, in a matter of seconds, he'd gone from trying to prove a point to having his tongue in Tony's mouth, and that was amazing.
And then he heard the click of Nat's cell phone camera and he started thinking again.
They broke apart and Steve was breathing hard, he was breathing hard and his face felt like it was on fire. He stared at Tony, and Tony stared back, eyes wide behind glasses that were now distinctly askew on his nose. Steve sucked in a breath, about to say something, about to say anything, and then Tony surged to his feet.
And threw his hands in the air, giving the still watching camera a double V for Victory sign.
The crowd went nuts, and Steve dropped his face into his hands.
Behind the cover of her hand, Nat said, “Did you just use the KissCam as an excuse to make a move on Stark?”
“No!” Steve's head snapped towards her. “Maybe.” He sucked in a breath. “Yes.”
She grinned. “You're an idiot.”
“Well, what was I supposed to do?” he hissed back. “They wanted you to-”
“I kissed Rhodey,” she said, and Steve glanced over her shoulder, and yes, Rhodey looked distinctly kissed and a little shell-shocked. Which was probably about right for someone who just got kissed by Nat. “Phil's going to kill us.”
A beat passes before Coulson responds. “Bring it home.” Take the shot, Barton.
If it were anyone else behind the scope, Clint knows, there would be a flurry of procedure. Visual confirms and proximity measurements and fucking windspeed evaluations. A laundry list of bullshit before they’d give him their blessing.
But he isn’t anyone else. He’s earned his nickname.
Through the crosshairs he hones in on her profile. She’s seated at a wooden table, calmly gazing straight ahead. She barely fidgets. A perfect target.
Too perfect.
He tightens his finger just as the click of a barrel pierces the silence. Behind his left ear.
He smiles.
“Americans.” He’s impressed. Barely a trace of an accent. “You never learn. Your arrogance is truly amusing.”
He’ll have to lay on the Midwestern twang extra thick, just for her.
Slowly, he raises his right hand and sets down his rifle with the other. He schools his face into a visage of I’m fucked anguish and thinly veiled terror before turning to meet her.
Her predator smile widens behind the butt of her pistol, trained on him with deadly precision. “The hawk’s eye,” she muses as she appraises him. “Rumor has it you’ve never missed a shot. Shall we mark down today in the history books?”
Clint shrugs casually, as if legitimately considering her suggestion. “Nah.”
One impeccably groomed brow arches.
“I never fired.”
The arrow pierces her just through the meat of her shoulder, knocking her forward and Clint dodges sharply to the right. He’s on her instantly, straddling her back as her rage pours out of her in furious, ragged screams.
As the backup and transport teams swarm in around him, he glances up at the crossbow that glares down at him from the doorframe. If his lightbulb moment had dawned on him thirty seconds later…
Future J2, stripper AU. Let me know if I should continue?
There’s a club, and every woman and man in Austin knows its name. It is notorious for having the most attractive men in the city. The club’s name is Supernatural. The headliner is a huge, bronze god named Jared Padalecki; 76 inches of long, lean muscle and thick, shoulder-length hair. He hailed from just an hour and a half south, where they bred them big and strong, corn-fed Texas boys. But he had a little something more. His eyes were like spring and his body, well, ask any of the women and men who love him. He is a Greek god.
He had a special act: the tall, lean, dirty cowboy act. There was enough makeup on him to look like he had been out on the prairie all day, eyes dusted in kohl like he needed it to see in the sun, and his cheekbones standing out like blades against the rest of his face.
