Emily (
iluvroadrunner6) wrote2021-03-08 06:08 pm
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Entry tags:
- canon: supernatural,
- canon: teen wolf,
- canon: vampire diaries universe,
- original: nadia kirsanov,
- prompts: get your words out,
- ship: ben/elena,
- ship: jeremy/malia,
- ship: kate/peter,
- ship: lydia/parrish,
- ship: nadia/peter,
- supernatural: ben braedan,
- teen wolf: derek hale,
- teen wolf: jordan parrish,
- teen wolf: kate argent,
- teen wolf: lydia martin,
- teen wolf: malia tate,
- teen wolf: nikolai kirsanov,
- teen wolf: peter hale,
- teen wolf: stiles stilinski,
- tvdverse: elena gilbert,
- tvdverse: jeremy gilbert
get your worlds out { 2021 } yahtzee tracking

set 5 | follow the sound of your heartbeat now ~ regency au ~ 972
As they round the corner towards the Hale tents, she spots a familiar face wandering through the crowds. Uncertain of how late it is, she sees the anger on her father’s face and her hand on Derek’s arm tightens her grip. Derek notices her concern and tries to follow her eyeline.
“What is it?”
“My father.”
What happens next blends into the haze of the moment, in too much wine, or at least that’s what she’ll tell herself. Derek sweeps her off the thoroughfare, and the warmth of one of the nearby tents engulfs them, keeping them out of the view of prying eyes.
“Do you think he saw us?”
Derek puts a finger to his lips, watching from the opening of the tent, keeping her out of view. She looks around, taking in her surroundings. Various knight gear pile in one corner, some of it the banner man wear of the Hales. Weaponry stands neatly ordered in the corner, and the simple cot in the corner finishes the room.
“He’s passed us for now,” Derek confirms finally from behind her. She nods before turning to face him.
“Is this your—” Her breath catches when she realizes how close he is, and they’re nearly pressed chest-to-chest. Her eyes tip up to look at him when she finally finds her voice and continues. “—tent?”
He nods, one hand resting against her side, the other allowing her thumb to brush along the line of her chin. “You can stay until you’re more sober, if you like. I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble with your father, master blade smith that he is?”
A slow smile crosses her face as she pushes up on her toes to lean into his touch. “I don’t think he’ll look this closely. And I had other ideas in mind.” Feeling emboldened by the privacy they now have, she pushes in further, attempting to steal a kiss should he let her. His head tips away, but he doesn’t retreat or rebuff her.
“Are you sure?” he murmurs. “It’s not something you can take back.”
Mercy’s face flickers, as she didn’t think that he would be one to show concern in that respect, and tempts part of her to consider retreating, but in the end, she knows she has to seize the opportunity now. If she doesn’t, she knows she likely won’t have another.
“I am,” she replies, her voice equally low. “Unless you are not?”
His eyes seem hungry as they roam over her face, down to the curves that waited beneath. Her hands move to rest against his chest, curling into the material of his tunic as she pulls him closer. She pushes up onto her toes and kisses him fully, not giving him another chance to retreat. Some soft, tentative pecks before he meets her in them, and in some ways, it feels as though he wishes to devour her.
Want surges through her in return, and one hand comes up to wind around his neck to pull herself closer. Soon, he deepens the kiss, teasing her mouth open with his tongue, inviting her to give him everything and she responds in kind. Soon his hands move to tug at the laces of their clothing, shedding layers and gently guiding her over to the cot where they can take their time.
It can take all night if needed. She intends to enjoy this while she has it.
Later, when passions have cooled and the fairgrounds have quieted, she pulls away from him to gather her things. As much as she would love to stay curled up here for the rest of the evening, she knows she can’t be here in the morning. Slowly she redresses, pulling everything neatly back into place, and using the mirrored finish of his shield to fix her hair.
“Leaving so soon?”
She glances back over her shoulder to where Derek lounges on the cot, like a content cat. He doesn’t seem surprised that she’s leaving, but there’s something in his expression that she can’t quite put her finger on. A little longing, maybe, but she doesn’t let herself dwell on it for too long.
“If I’m not in my bed by the time, my father comes to wake me in the morning, I will be in more trouble.” She makes her way closer, brushing her hand against the side of his face gently. “But thank you, for this.”
His hand covers hers before turning and pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist. “Will I see you again? At the next tournament, perhaps?”
She shakes her head. “Probably not.” She has a feeling that this will be her last tournament for some time. “But you were an enjoyable escort all the same.”
Derek watches her face, before pushing up and leaning in to kiss her again, one last time. She closes her eyes as she meets him in it, before pulling away with a sigh.
“Until next time, Sir Hale.” It didn’t feel right to say goodbye.
“Until next time, Lady Durand.”
And with that, she slips out of his tent and makes her way quickly across the fairgrounds to her family’s tents. She slips back inside without her father noticing, and while she can’t say she regrets the choice, she can’t help but hope it would have lasted a little longer.