#I had hoped to finish a fic for this but am trying to quilt on a deadline

[palmofafreezinghand]

twilight advent calendar - day eleven: Besides painting, what art forms does Esme enjoy? How do you imagine her art room/setup looks? (prompts here)

Art forms Esme enjoys, and a little bit of her history with art: 

There are very few mediums she has not tried at least once. 

As a child she doodled on every scrap of paper she could get her hands on. As she got older she found the small details portraiture required particularly enticing, she’d nervously slip someone a portrait she had sketched of them or their loved one. Her grandparents were the ones to purchase her half-used paints at a church rummage sale, she rationed them as if they were gold. 

She never considered what she made art. Her mother found her little hobby frustrating beyond belief. The woman had tried to teach her daughter the finer hobbies expected of her, needlework, knitting, the piano, anything that would stop Esme from donning her paint-stained too-short dress and climbing to the top of a tree to “sketch the birds.” Esme did not take well to knitting or cross-stitch as she grew. Her grandmother had barely taught her to sew and only after Esme ripped one too many of her handmade dresses did her mother force her into sewing her own wardrobe. (This backfired when Esme discovered how to sew pants). 

When introduced to an eternity of free time she did not revisit these art forms, in fact, she had barely remembered how much she once enjoyed art. She only picked up a pencil again when Edward forced her to, desperate for her to find a hobby and stop bothering him.

She swore Edward to secrecy, knowing Carlisle would run out and buy far too many supplies. He kept her secret but bought the supplies himself. After her initial irritation wore off she was quite grateful for the gift and needed more paint quite shortly after. 

Her love of interior design and architecture made itself known when she found a dollhouse in the attic, left dusty and broken by the previous owner. She renovated it in secret, compelled to finish the project for some reason she could not quite place. Turns out she had a knack for that too. 

At first she thought her skill was one nonexistent but two nothing more than vampiric ability. Carlisle and Edward spent one afternoon attempting to paint a simple still life with her help and she dropped that second suspicion. 

Oil painting is her first choice when it comes to paints. She loves the ability to jump back into a painting after a few weeks. Nowadays, in her scarce free time, she has been experimenting with water soluble oil paints, much to Carlisle’s amusement who had only just become used to the constant smell of linseed oil. Although he will not lie and say he mourns the constant worry her rags will start a fire, again. 

She sculpts and brings an at-home kiln with her on most moves, although she has to be cautious because she has also started a fire with one of these. She enjoys sculpting people the most. She has made countless ceramic renditions of her husband’s nose, face, hands… 

She has experimented with 3D printing and glass blowing but is still new to the medium. 

Miniatures are still a constant in her art, but these days they look more like architectural models than dollhouses. 

There is a camera with her almost all the time. The rest of the family likes to sneakily take photos, knowing she won’t discover them for a little while. They all know better, Emmett learned the hard way, not to go through any of her SD cards. 

On the few rare occasions she has showed her art in galleries she prefers to exhibit installations rather than collections. Her personal favorite she managed to convince Edward to write and record a score to play throughout the gallery. 

She eventually found her way back to knitting and crochet, but never had the passion for it. 

When Renesmee was born and in her growth spurt Esme sewed constantly, building in growth tucks into every garment, knowing any dress would need to be let out within days.

As Renesmee grew up Esme picked quilting and needlepoint back up. While she no longer had any memories of her own grandmother teaching her to thread a needle and the importance of a thimble, but it makes her feel closer to the woman she doesn't remember as she is asked to be a grandmother herself.

A few details about her workspace: 

 In her dream world, she would have a stand-alone studio and a space to create in the house. Her family is inspiring and simultaneously a huge hindrance to creating.  She naturally gravitates towards picking properties with an old gardening shed, carriage house, and dilapidated guest house/cottage she can renovate to have perfect natural lighting, ample soundproofing, climate control, and ample storage. (Until she has to very quickly renovate a guest house as a ‘welcome to vampirism’ gift). If she has a stand-alone workspace she will settle for working in the family library or at the kitchen table (which are all specially designed to convert into drafting tables when needed). 

 The walls are white and the only art hung on them are her current work in progresses. There are a couple of framed photos on her desk: one of her and Carlisle, a candid of her and Edward taken by Carlisle in 1931, one of the entire family, and a print of the first painting of hers she thought truly resembled her son. She is very particularly about lighting and has OttLites scattered about both her workspace and the house.  

Everything has a place, but that place changes frequently. She reorganizes any time she is stuck on a piece. The family knows to keep their distance if they hear her vacuuming out drawers and moving dozens of paint pots. 

[waytooinvested]

Vengeance, Victory, and Undying Love - pt 11

Chapter 11 of my Supercorp fic in which Lena still creates something called Non Nocere to deal with her broken heart after finding out Supergirl's identity, but this time she gives the name to a different project. A more personal one. And now she’s coming for Supergirl.

This and previous chapters also available to read on Ao3

...............

‘Hi Lena’.

It had been just over twelve hours since Kara had left Lena sleeping off her inebriation, but to look at her you never would have guessed it. She was immaculate in a crisply pressed suit, her hair pulled back into a perfect chignon and makeup impeccable, though a little heavier than usual, as if it might be hiding the dark circles and washed out skin most people would have had the day after so much alcohol and not enough sleep.

‘Kara, thank you for coming in. I wasn’t sure if you would’.

‘I got your note. And the flowers. Of course I came’.

‘Yes. Well, I wanted to apologise for what happened last night. As I’m sure you realised, I had had a lot to drink, and I said… and did… some things I shouldn’t have. I know it was inexcusable, and I deeply regret my lapse in judgement. I wanted the opportunity to tell you that in person’.

Lena looked up from her desk to meet Kara’s eyes, and the remorse and vulnerability written across her face made Kara want to wrap her up in quilts and make her a cup of hot cocoa.

‘It’s okay Lena, really. You didn’t- you were just in pain, that’s all. Do you… remember everything that happened?’

‘Not quite everything, but… I know what you’re really asking and I wish I could say that I didn’t, but yes, I remember that I kissed you. I should never have forced it on you like that. It was unforgivable, and I really am sorry Kara. Do you think we could just try to forget it ever happened?’

Forget? No, Kara couldn’t forget. Didn’t think she would ever forget. Brief as it was, that kiss had meant the whole world to her. But she knew that wasn’t fair, because she had been sober and Lena hadn’t, and that meant it probably hadn’t been real for her the way it was for Kara.

‘Of course we can. I- I understand that it was just because you were lonely and hurt. I know it wasn’t really about me, I just happened to be there’.

Kara hoped desperately that Lena would tell her she was wrong about that, but she didn’t.

She nodded.

‘Thank you for being so gracious. Perhaps… if you’re still willing… perhaps we could find our way back to a more positive working relationship going forwards. I would still like to help both Catco and the DEO when the need arises’.

Kara’s heart broke a little, but she did her best to ignore it. This might not be what she had wanted from this meeting, but it was more progress than she would have believed possible just a few weeks ago.

‘I’d like that very much’.

‘Alright then. I guess I’ll see you next time the city’s in peril…’

Lena paused, then offered her a tiny, tentative smile like the twig off an olive branch.

‘Is it strange that I’m almost looking forward to that?’

‘It’s not strange at all. But we don’t have to wait that long you know. We could… get coffee sometime?’

‘Kara, I’m not sure-’

She rushed on before Lena could finish the refusal she knew was coming.

‘Just as colleagues I mean. We could… we could discuss a consultancy contract with the DEO. After everything you’ve done to help us in the past, I’m sure they’d agree to some form of proper compensation for your work’.

‘Alright… I’ll think about it. Thank you again for coming in Kara’.

Lena looked down at the papers on her desk, a clear sign that their meeting was over, but Kara couldn’t make her feet move to walk out of there.

Going to a huge amount of effort and expense to make someone invulnerable just so you don’t have to worry about their safety anymore is not how you express hatred.

She swallowed.

‘There’s something else I want to say to you’.

‘Oh?’

‘Yes. About last night’.

Lena baulked a little.

‘I thought you said we could forget about that?’

‘That was about what you said, because you were drunk, and I wasn’t supposed to be there to hear it. This is about what I said’.

‘What do you mean?’

She knew telling Lena was the right thing to do – the only thing to do if she ever wanted a chance of making good the mistakes of the past – but Rao it was scary, and Kara found herself talking to her sneakers more than to Lena.

‘You might not remember this, but after you kissed me last night I told you that I wanted that too, that it was all I wanted. Lena, I- I just want you to know that I meant it. I know that a positive working relationship doesn’t mean that you’ve forgiven me for what I did to you, or that you’d ever want anything more, but if we’re going to move forwards I need to be completely honest with you from now on.

And the truth is that I’m in love with you. I think I have been for years, it just… took me a while to realise it’.

Utter silence.

Kara couldn’t bring herself to look up from her examination of her shoelaces to see what sort of impact her words had had on Lena, so the quiet stretched on, unbroken for what felt like aeons until she couldn’t stand it anymore.

‘I understand, and I’ll go now. You just- you had a right to know’.

She turned quickly to the door, keeping her head ducked so that Lena wouldn’t see the shine of tears that she was determined not to let fall.

Still Lena said nothing.

Kara reached blindly for the door handle and fumbled with it, her hand grown clumsy in her desire to get away before she broke down completely.

‘Kara, wait’.

She froze.

And then turned back, very slowly, to face the woman she had just bared her soul to.

Lena was trembling, but she didn’t hesitate as she stepped out from behind the barrier of her desk and came over until they were almost, but not quite, close enough to touch.

‘I have been so angry with you for so long. I understand better now why you did what you did, but still, I couldn’t let go of how much it hurt to find out that I hadn’t meant as much to you as you meant to me’.

‘Lena, that’s not tr-’

Lena held up a hand to stop her.

‘Please, let me say this. It might not have been true for you, but it was how I felt. I had let myself trust you so completely with every part of myself, and then when I found out that that wasn’t mutual, I couldn’t let go of the hurt I felt. Maybe part of me didn’t want to let go, because shutting you out entirely seemed so much easier than letting myself be vulnerable like that again. But there is nothing easy about living a life that doesn’t have you in it. From the first day I met you, you have made my life fuller and richer than I ever dreamed it could be, and losing you has been worse than I could have imagined. I miss you so much I can barely breath. I don’t hate you Kara, and I’m tired of being too afraid of things going wrong to even try to make them right. I don’t want a positive working relationship with the DEO or to be your colleague. I want you’.

Kara breached the last few feet of distance between them and took Lena into her arms, pulling her in close enough to press her cheek against the liquid silk of Lena’s hair while Lena burrowed her face against Kara’s neck, just as she had the night before.

‘Kara. Please. Please don’t hurt me like that again. I don’t think I could survive it a second time’.

‘I have never been sorrier about anything than I am for what I did to you Lena. I swear on everything I have and everything I am, that I will never lie to you again’.

Lena’s arms came up to wrap around Kara in return then, and she clung on so fiercely that she might have been the one with super strength.

‘I believe you. And I love you too’.

Kara let out a breath she seemed to have been holding since the moment she found out what Lex had done. Before that even. Since she had first clashed with Lena as Supergirl and put off telling her the truth about her identity so she could keep it from bleeding into her friendship with Kara. Years. Years since she had taken a clear, guilt free breath, and now she felt giddy with the rush of unaccustomed oxygen. She smiled into Lena’s hair, then dipped her head to resume the kiss that had been burning on her lips with its need for completion since the night before.

Lena however remained firmly burrowed into the crook of Kara’s neck, not looking up to meet her half way.

‘Wait’.

‘What is it?’

‘Do you think you can ever forgive me? For the way I treated you after I found out I mean. In my lab… Kara I violated you. The immunity serum was only ever meant to keep you safe, but the way I injected you – it was appalling. It was something a Luthor would have done. Something Lex would have done. And even before that, I was petty and vindictive and I pushed you away every time you reached out. You hurt me without meaning to, and I'm not underplaying the impact that had, but I hurt you on purpose. More than once. I’m… I’m afraid I might be just as much of a monster as the rest of my family. You deserve someone so much better than that’.

‘It’s already forgiven, and more than forgiven. You may have lashed out, but you also did so much to protect me, even when you were justifiably furious with me. I am amazed by you. Somehow despite all the harshness of your past and the family you had to grow up with, you overcame it and made yourself into someone who’s good, and kind, and brilliant. You are the furthest thing from a monster. I see you, Lena Luthor, and I believe in you with my whole self’.

A single tear seeped from beneath Lena’s closed lashes, and she pressed a small, grateful kiss to Kara’s collarbone that made her shiver.

‘Thank you. Thank you for believing in me even after all this. I promise I will not let you down this time Kara. I’m going to do better’.

‘We’ll both do better. Together’.

‘El mayarah’.

Lena whispered the Kryptonese phrase into the space above Kara’s heart, and then at last she lifted her head from the place of safety it had found to meet her gaze. Her hands unclenched from the back of Kara’s shirt and instead found her face, tracing lightly across her cheeks.

Her jaw.

Her lips.

This time when Kara leaned forward Lena was already there, meeting her in a kiss that had been years in the making, and Kara couldn’t help the tiny whimper that escaped her throat as they deepened it from the first tentative brush to something fuller and more vital.

Kara had had good kisses before. Great kisses even. Some of them with people she had loved.

But kissing Lena made every one of them seem like a pale mockery of the real thing.

It was like tasting ice cream after only ever knowing non fat unsweetened frozen yogurt.

Like sunshine after LED strip lighting.

Like coming home.

It was a long time before they came up for air.

[detectivemarvelingcomics]

Not Your Classic Vigilante [Ch. 7]

Alternate Dimension AU

TW: Language, Mentions of Death, Descriptions of Violence, Scar Mention, Mentions of Suicide/Suicidal Thoughts, Implied Sexual Assault

CW: OC Use, See the OC Guide [Here]

Genre: Angst, Some Comedy

Pairing: Batfamily x Batsis!Reader

(7/?) [First] | [Previous] | [Next]

[DC Masterlist] | [Not Your Classic Vigilante Masterlist]

YN Pronouns: Female (She/Her)

Word Count: 5.0K

Notes: WHOAAAAAAA When was the last time I updated this I'm so sorry guys I'll try to spend more time on this blog cuz wow this fic is so fun to write ahaha

Not Your Classic Vigilante: @gabytodd @marshmallow12435 @escapenightmare @luminaaz @akuri-shinsou

Unable to be Tagged: @peachydoki @lolsnack

Disclaimer: This series is originally by @fandom-meanderer who is a close friend of mine, but she has since fallen out of her Tumblr days and asked me to finish a few series for her, hence why I am now in ownership of the Not Your Classic Vigilante series, I hope I can still live up to her writing as I rewrite this series! (I promise not to change too much, hehe)

15 June 2015

“That one, I think, would be Orion,” you pointed to the constellation in the sky, your other hand holding your phone up to illuminate the astrological book on your lap. Your back was pressed up against the hard metal of the back of the truck, the cold being muted out by the quilt beneath you. To your side, Conner only hummed. His fingers drummed on his chest and he kept one arm behind his head.

“How d’you know?” His voice was gruff, and it was sign enough of what he had been doing prior to your date. He never told you about them, but you always knew. It was a stipulation of Tim’s, always trying to keep you as far away from the vigilante gig as he could but you’re bound to get wound up in it when all of your friends and the majority of people who surrounded you happened to be of the extraordinary kind. But, there was always this weird air around him when he’d just come back from missions, and you always knew that the worst ones preceded the text that would appear in your phone from him.

That and you could clearly see the new scars on his arms, Conner wasn’t too versed in makeup, it would seem, but the thought was still there. Who knew that it would be in your teens that you’d have to deal with your hero boyfriend who had an affinity for getting beat up on missions and going on dates with you right after? It wasn’t something on your checklist, that’s for sure.

“See how those stars connect? That’s his belt, then you go from there,” you spoke in hushed whispers. You turned your head to him, his eyes squinting as he tried to make out what you were saying. You sighed and pressed your head against his, trying to see things from where he was. Your hand wrapped around his wrist and you held it up, pointing his hand to where the belt started. “Now do you see? Here’s where it starts,” you moved his hand slightly to the side and his gaze followed, “and there’s where it ends. Now, you go up or down and you see the faint outline of the warrior,” your hand moved down his arm until it reached the first large scar, poorly applied foundation removed easily under your touch and you chuckled. “You know, Con, you have to blend it out.”

“Seriously? Donna said all I had to do was put it on like lotion…” He wipes the rest off with his sleeve.

“Oh, dear, no, honey,” you laughed. “And you have to get your right shade,” you took some foundation off his hand and swiped it across his cheek. “This is about two shades too dark,” you smiled. “But, seriously, you don’t have to hide it from me. I’ve seen my brothers come home with so much worse,” you muttered. Soon your hands intertwined and your eyes raked over the recently healed over scars.

“Tell me about it,” Conner did nothing while you traced over it.

“Wonder what the other guy looks like.”

“What’s left of him?” He adds with a short laugh. You only smiled in response and soon you felt him push his head against yours softly.

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah… Yeah, it’s alright,” he nodded his head slowly and you hummed quietly. “I don’t really want to think about it right now.”

“In that case…” you understood what he meant. “This is a really nice quilt, I feel kind of bad for just laying it on top of this dirty truck bed,” you played with the edges of it.

“Hey! I washed it, you know,” he rolls his eyes and you pushed his chest gently.

“Just teasing, it looks like Mrs. Kent worked hard on it, though,” you smoothened out the wrinkles now.

“Speaking of… it’s for you,” he sits up and looks at the patches on the quilt, he holds up the corner piece that sported the bat insignia on it.

“Why tell me after we dirtied it?” You grew wide eyed for a moment. “Oh, wait, so you wouldn’t have to wash it, huh?” You squeezed his cheek. “You suck,” your smile betrayed you.

“Yeah, well, you’re the one who can’t keep their hands off of me.”

“Ew,” you squeezed your eyes shut and shook your head. “You’re the one who’s obsessed with me.”

“Yeah, that’s also true,” he tilted his head to the side. His phone rings in the truck and he sighs. You only straightened, knowing that ringtone well.

“Duty calls?”

“If I just let it go to voice mail, do you think they’ll just assume I’m busy?”

“You could try that. Or you could chance Bart running all the way here and catching us.”

“Dear god, I might actually lose my mind if he did that, hold on,” he hopped out of the truck and sat back in the driver’s seat. You, meanwhile, stayed in place. You picked up the quilt, it wasn’t too dirty, actually, save for some bits of hay and dirt beneath it, but nothing a good wash couldn’t handle. It really did look like Mrs. Kent spent a lot of time on it, the stitches and the fabrics were meticulously placed, and the small depictions on each tile represented a facet of you.

It was a darling gift.

~

28 July 2022

And now, it was draped over your wall. It was kept clean, you assumed that Alfred regularly washed it, but at a closer glance you could see some of the edges frayed with use. You wonder who caused those?

The clock stroke midnight, and the Manor was empty save for two souls. Everyone else had gone on patrol, go figure. Dead sister comes back but crime never sleeps. Granted, Tim made a really good argument for having one of them stay behind, but Alfred ceremoniously volunteered himself to monitor you. Great.

Alfred Pennyworth sat in the library, patiently waiting for the Master of the home, with a simple book in hand and a cup of tea in another. The library was lit in a way that made the area seem warm and welcoming. Anyone who walked into its warmth would be encased in a feeling of comfort and safety that all else would fade away and allow one restful night. The old butler thought back to the simpler times when the Waynes were a rather joyous group, well, as joyous as a family could be given their hobby. Now would be an important time to note that the book in Alfred’s hands was not one you would find in a store, no, not quite, it was a birthday present gifted to Bruce Wayne by the one and only (Y/N) Wayne. The brightest of the Waynes, but at the same time the most tragic. All she wanted was her father’s approval, but it never came. And despite all the love and affection her siblings gave her, it was never enough to fill the void left by her own father. His eyes drifted over to the darkness of the hallway. The (Y/N) that entered the manor that day, he knew it was her, yet at the same time he knew it wasn’t. But what is this strange feeling?

Now, in stark difference to the library, was the rather cold and secluded bedroom where our heroine lay. Your eyes staring up at the ceiling, unable to even consider the horrors of allowing the tired captain to close her eyes for just a moment. Years of being in a new world conditioned you to be unable to relax in atmospheres like this, cold and alone. An environment that used to feel like the afore mentioned room, was now the opposite. You were at attention, like something would jump out at the shadows any minute now.

But there was a time where this room was, as Tim put it, the happiest place in the mansion. You recalled when the then younger Tim Drake would run in, shaking in his pajamas, and timidly ask to sleep with you after thinking it a good idea to watch a horror movie with Jason, or how every now and then you’d find Damian resting at the foot of your bed in full regalia and all. Even the days where Jason would come to just annoy the living hell out of you and Dick would yell at him from the next room over. You remembered these fondly, but was still unable to find yourself in a state of comfort. Was it the loathing you felt for this manor in general? Or was it the constant nagging of your best friend in your head. Whatever it was, it was enough to drag you out of the prison of your bed and onto your feet.

‘What, Alex?’ You grumbled, your hand clutching your heart. You looked to the wall in front of you, the intricate quilt that hung undisturbed seemed to mock you. You remembered shoving it into your closet after you and Conner had broken up, but someone must have taken it out to display it.

‘Remind me again why you two broke up,’ his voice had a hint of teasing in it. ‘I still remember those ten-paged letters you’d send me detailing every single glance he gave you.’

‘Oh, stop it. I was young and he was my first. And to answer your question, he fell in love with Cassie, perfect Cassie, how could I compete with that? Who was I to get in the way of that? A Super-Boy with a Wonder-Girl. I wonder if they stayed together.’

‘I’m now remembering your fifteen-page letter on that.’

‘Don’t tease me. I literally didn’t speak to either of them for months and I avoided Mr. Kent and Jon like the plague until Mr. Kent came here himself. It was so awkward…’

‘I don’t doubt it,’ Alex sounded like he was doing something as he spoke to you. ‘Anyway, I’m sure you’d love to come back, and I can see that the path to your father’s computer is empty.’

‘Okay, yeah, I’m going. Alfred’s pretty vigilant though.’

‘Ah, so you need a diversion.’

‘Yup, what do you have up your sleeves?’

‘Not much, unfortunately. Oh wait, just kidding.’

‘Wait, what? What’s up?’ Your mental conversation is disrupted by a small but sudden explosion outside. You rushed over to the window as Carter gives you a sloppy salute. You look down and notice Alfred walking out to investigate. ‘Alexander Wright, you are a genius.’

‘Thank you, darling. But you really should be thanking Carter, I’m sure he’d love praise from his dear Captain.’

‘Don’t say it like that it’s creepy.’

‘Is it? Why don’t you pay more attention to his mannerisms? I’m sure the two of you would make a lovely couple.’

‘What do you mean?’ Your face heats slightly. Was he catching on? Maybe you should’ve thought twice before keeping a secret from your best friend, but it’s not something you wanted to parade around. ‘Alex?’

After repeatedly trying to call out to him, and repeatedly not hearing a response, you opted to run down the stairs, making sure that Alfred is kept busy as you accessed the bat cave.

‘If you’re done teasing, how’s the cameras?’

‘Took him a while, but Carter was able to get them down for a moment.’

‘Good.’ You descended into the cavern. You fired up the comically large computer a d watched it spark to life, an array of articles that didn’t concern you filled the desktop and similarly multiple programs started running at once. You fumbled to pull the flash drive out but quickly regain composure as you watched all of the information from the bat computer duplicate and save onto the small device that would serve to be your lifeline. Then, a password prompt appeared. You typed in the password you remembered, your hand hovering over the enter button, but… if you were wrong, if your father changed it, then it wold be all game over for you. Instead, you went with the safer option. You pressed the small button on the flash drive and it was quickly overridden, that’s one obstacle down. The whole time you could feel your heart rate rise. You didn’t know how much your father’s tech had changed since three years ago, and you didn’t know if it would detect the device or not. So far, so good, though. You just hoped that there wasn’t a backdoor program that was alerting him right now. But why were the flags in your head raising? You looked around, the cave was dark to hide your presence more but you could swear that something was watching you. You turned back in time for the drive to finish its work.

‘Don’t forget the device.’

‘I know, I know, fuck off.’ You mentally argue with Alexander. You pulled out a second listening device and planted it far beneath the desk just as the flash drive completed its purpose. Just as quickly as you went in, you pulled out the flash drive and retreated back upstairs; however, this time you couldn’t ignore the library. You spent a lot of your time there, now that you thought about it, there was just something so soothing about the never-ending walls of pages. Seeing as it was still empty, you walked in.

‘What are you doing?’

‘I’m rarely ever home, let me live through the nostalgia again in peace, alright?’ He didn’t respond.

You looked out the window and watched Alfred finish cleaning up the aftermath of Carter’s work and more questions popped into your mind.

First of all, how did they cope after you left? Your father, you can guess easily, probably didn’t find out until months after the fact. Your brothers, Dick in particular, must have been heartbroken. You could hate your father as much as you wanted, but you could never hate your siblings. All of the carnival days with Dick, the late night motorcycle rides with Jason, how you and Tim would do midnight to dawn homework sessions together, and how could you forget about all the arcade days with Damian? And furthermore, the cute movie nights with Steph, or the girls’ nights with Cass, all of these were memories that you held dear. Cass, you thought of her more often than the others sometimes, she truly was, at one point, your best friend.

Cass... you needed to avoid her at all costs.

But more questions distracted you, how different would things be if you had stayed? Would you have gained your father’s approval? Would you have graduated? Who knows? Maybe you would have finally met someone who could have filled that lack of fatherly care. Maybe you would have met someone to share your life with under different circumstances. Two names appeared in your head, but you dismissed them quickly.

Your eyes land on the book near the fire. It was crudely bound with yarn and hastily glued over with scribbles of crayon on the cardboard covers. The pages contained between them were that of various colored construction paper until the last few pages that were white and neatly stacked against each other, no doubt added on much later. You recognized this book that stood out like a sore thumb compared to the expensively bound ones that surrounded it, and you recognized it because it was yours. You picked it up and turned through the pages. It was a sloppy, albeit adorable, picture book littered with polaroids of yourself and your many family members, and each picture had a short description next to it written in the same crayon that adorned the cover. You remembered clearly, you made this to give to your father. You had felt terrible that he was on “business trips” all of the time, and you felt like he would miss his family. At the time, the only people pictured were yourself, Dick, Jason, Alfred, and your mother. Simpler times. You flipped through the pages and noticed that they had been filled in with more neat handwriting and more professional pictures, and you easily recognized this to be Alfred’s doing. Finally, you came to a stop at the last page. In childish writing, it read: “For my superhero dad! So he would always have his family with him!”

Superhero. Is that what he was? That’s how you always thought of him back then. Your mother called him that, the superhero that Gotham needed. Alfred called him that, the superhero that kept you safe. Mr. Kent called him that, the superhero who was his best friend, and the list went on. You called him that at one point. When you were younger, you remembered how when you’d call he’d run over in a heartbeat, working quickly to rid of what upset you in the first place, and you remembered thinking of him as your hero. That all changed when you grew old enough to fully understand what it was that he did, when you renounced the family business, that’s when tensions started to arise. And they kept rising until they were untamable.

Then you died, but we’ve been over that enough times already.

“I know it may not seem like it, Miss (Y/N),” Alfred cuts in. You don’t move from your spot and continue to stare down at the page. You tapped your finger against the picture of you and your father. You didn’t even think he had any other pictures of you aside from this one. “But your father did truly love you.”

“Right,” your facade breaks. You catch yourself and took a deep breath. All these years, and all the lies you’ve told yourself, you’re back at the place you once called home and already you’re wishing you had even an ounce of his approval. “I’m sure he did.”

“Are you really the same (Y/N) Wayne who left this manor three years ago?” Alfred moves cautiously towards you. You take in a deep breath and close the picture book.

“Keen as ever, Alfred,” you smiled weakly. There’s no point in lying to him now, your best bet is to inch around the truth.

“Your smile certainly isn’t,” Alfred points out. He takes a seat by the fire once more and gestures for you to do the same. “It’s different, almost like you have seen a world of pain. And your eyes, they look so much like your father’s, and you know what I mean by that.”

“Do they? I guess that would make sense,” you try to build up you character again. You couldn’t jeopardize the mission, not when the flash drive was finally in your pocket. “I did die.”

“That is true,” Alfred says sadly. He drinks his tea silently. “Do you really not remember anything from that day?”

“I do not,” you lied. The two remain quiet for awhile. You coughed lightly and placed your hand on your heart.

‘He’s catching on,’ you worried.

‘It appears so,’ Alex responds. ‘Remain vigilant.’

“Are you alright, Miss (Y/N),” Alfred speaks again.

“I have been having these strange chest pains,” you explain.

‘Is that all I am to you? Strange chest pains?’ Alex teases. You let your hand drop to your lap, ending your side of the conversation with Alex.

Chest pains. Might be a little complicated to explain to Alfred the circumstances of your survival up to this point. The scar of a magical circle over your heart, one that linked you to the voice in your head, without it, you doubt you’d be able to function as a whole human, if that’s what you still were. You didn’t blame Alex, you couldn’t, his life was on the line and yours was already gone, with the Queen looming over him, you would’ve done the same.

The only catch now is that you have to be careful how far you are from him, which is quite generous.

“Maybe it’s an after effect of dying,” you finally said. And in some ways it was. You don’t remember your heart being taken from you that night, at least. If it was then you were already long dead before you could’ve noticed.

“Please don’t speak of your death so calmly,” Alfred shakes his head. “Dick did not sleep for days, Jason kept coming home with new wounds, Cassandra regressed so far to the point where she shut herself out, Tim kept surrounding himself with work, and do not get me started on Damian… It truly was a tragedy for us. You may not believe it, but it was.”

“Was it for dad?” You looked up at him again, but this time with genuine curiosity. Alfred is silent for awhile. “Did he even know?” You felt your voice waiver. You couldn’t understand why you felt this way, you should loathe him, and you wanted to, so you did for a time. But, and this is what you were afraid of when you heard you had to come back here, with all of these memories resurfacing, you didn’t know what you wanted anymore.

You shouldn’t have come here, you should’ve taken the long route and studied each member yourself.

“He… He did not,” Alfred admits. You put on another pained smile and nodded slowly.

“Of course he didn’t. Why would he care?”

“He was on mission for the League, at the time. No one could reach him and… he didn’t find out until Mr. Kent came over to pay his condolences,” Alfred admits. Of course Mr. Kent came. He treated you more like family than your father ever could. “Just a few days before your funeral.”

“Right, sounds like him,” you shake your head. Before Alfred could try to defend your father’s actions furthermore, you spoke up quickly, “Al, what else changed while I was gone? I feel like I don’t recognize things anymore, nothing is the same here. I don’t even recognize myself when I look into a mirror.”

“A lot has changed, my dear girl,” he nods his head. “And, it will take time, but you will grow accustomed once again, and we will do it together,” he says. You both hear a bookcase slide open then closed. “Your father’s home.”

“I’m going to bed.”

“Do you not want to see him?”

“No,” your answer came out quickly and sharply. It was a tone Alfred had never heard in your voice, and you knew he caught onto it. “Al, my last memory of this house is dad telling me that I have no value in this family, so… no, I really don’t want to see him right now,” you finished. Yet you didn’t move. “Did he even grieve?”

“We all have different ways of grieving, my dear.”

“What was his?” You leaned forward, your elbows resting on your knees now. “No, don’t tell me, I already know. He worked, didn’t he? Arkham must have had a field day,” you shook your head. Alfred didn’t answer and you knew you got it spot on. You wondered how your mother coped with it all, if it was a good idea to even see her at all. Despite appearances, she really was one of the pillars of your life. The days you spent with her helped you release so much stress off of your shoulders and made you feel so carefree that you’d forget all about your vigilante family. Granted, she was somewhat one of herself, but she knew how to separate life and work much better than any of the Waynes did. You shook your head. Why are you still here? “I’m going to bed.” You stood up this time, but as you did so, the library door opened. You didn’t move, your back was to the door and you looked out the window.

It was a night just like this one, your very last one on this earth.

~

27 July 2019

It was such a lovely night. The moon was full, and the air wasn’t as smoggy as it usually was in this godforsaken city. You had finished your final, three hours of grueling free response finally over as you made your way back to your apartment, having given up on the dorms since you’ve started to become independent of the Wayne fortune. You had your scholarships to pay rent, but you’ve barely even started unpacking your boxes. You stretched your arms over your head.

You were done. Once you got this grade from your final, you’d see if you would be able to graduate, and once you did? Who knows what’s next. You only had the rest of your life. You couldn’t stop the smile on your face. Never had you felt so much more relief than to know that you did it. You took your phone out, your thumb hovering over Dick’s contact, but you paused.

You wondered if your father had told everyone yet.

Without another thought, you scrolled on, your thumb landing on Roy’s number instead. It only rang once before he picked up.

“How’d your final go, Goose?” The nickname had a teasing connotation to it, but you ignored it. It was an old nickname he’d had for you since his time in the titans with your older brothers and whenever he said it it was quickly followed by you getting shot with a nerf gun and still, one year into this secret relationship, he still never relented when he called you by it.

“I think I did really good, actually! I feel like celebrating, are you busy right now?” You walked with a slight skip in your step.

“Uh… shit, yeah actually,” he says. “I’m with Jason right now.”

“Oh, crap, why’d you pick up then?!”

“And ignore a call from a pretty girl like you? How could I?”

“I’ll never understand how you do that so easily,” the heat in your cheeks was especially prominent with the cold air around you. “You talk to everyone like that?”

“Only to the future Mrs. Harper, of course.”

“Oh, god,” you rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed you. “Raincheck then?”

“Raincheck. I’ll take you out to the best dinner you could even dream of.”

“Just so you know, Red, burnt chicken and raw asparagus isn’t what I have in mind for a celebratory dinner.”

“That was just the once, (Y/N)! Besides, I bet you’re equally as bad in a kitchen, trust fund kid.”

“That’s not what you said when you were bedridden in my dorm room for a week.”

“Your roommate is so cool for that, by the way.”

“Oh, I’m sure she just didn’t want to die,” you laughed. “Okay, I’ll call you later, I’m on my way back to my apartment.”

“You need help getting settled? I’ll gladly ditch your depressed brother for you any day.”

“Oh? And what’s your excuse?”

“Same one I gave him when I answered you. A pretty girl needs my help.”

“Screw you,” you shook your head.

“Maybe tomorrow if you’re lucky.”

“You’re so shameless, Roy,” you sighed. “Seriously, go back to whatever you’re doing together before Jason gets curious.”

“Do we know the same Jason Todd?”

“Roy!”

“Okay, okay, I’m going, I’ll see you later, (Y/N).”

“Bye,” you waited for him to hang up first before continuing. It was just around the block now, and the streets were clear. But, the longer you walked, the more anxious you got. You looked over your shoulder, once, twice, and maybe thrice now.

No, this area was a part of Tim’s rounds, you’ll be okay.

You’ll be okay. You thought this even as you felt someone grab your arm and drag you into an alley.

~

28 July 2022

“Alfred, leave the room.” You were pulled back into reality with a blink of your eyes. The moon was still as bright as ever. Alfred looked to you before looking to the person behind you.

“Of course, Master Bruce,” Alfred spared you one glance before exiting the room. You didn’t look behind you. You didn’t want to.

“(Y/N),” your father’s voice was stern. Always stern with him, he was never relaxed. You didn’t move. You didn’t want to. You took a deep breath.

‘Do you need another diversion?’ Alex’s voice rang in your head. You placed your hand on your heart, feeling the skin between them burning.

‘No. It wouldn’t work anyway.’ You turned around. “Hey, dad. Long time no see.” You kept your words slow, the library only illuminated by the fireplace that roared next to you. A fireplace in a room full of books, it spelled trouble, in your opinion. You closed the crude picture book with one hand while you looked at your father. His cowl was off, it was bundled in one of his fists, and his suit looked to have undergone some changes since last you saw it, but the man before you was undoubtedly your father. He took a few steps towards you until he was an arm’s distance. You both stood in silence, and the flash drive in your pocket became all the heavier. You couldn’t read his expression, you never were able to, but now it felt more intimidating than ever. For the first time in a while, you felt so small. You should’ve known that your high horse would have stayed on the other earth.

‘Take a deep breath, (Y/N), steady yourself,’ Alex spoke gently. Back in character.

“I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have come, I’m not welcome here anymore, but according to Jason, I have nowhere else to go,” you explained, keeping your voice from wavering. Bruce made no moves, he just continued to stare down at you. Until, finally, his hand rose and settled on your shoulder. It wasn’t heavy, had it not been for the soft grip you’d think that he wasn’t even touching you at all.

“You’re home, you’re always welcome here.” Such words that were so weighted were said by a man with only a sliver of emotion. His expression that was once straight finally broke and, for a moment, you could’ve sworn that you saw sympathy. You bit back any smart remarks and instead shrugged his hand off.

“I’ll be gone by tomorrow,” is all you said. You walked past him and back up the stairs, part of you hoped that he’d call you back, maybe have a civil conversation, but no such wish was answered. No, instead you continued forth until you were once again situated on your bed, memories of a time past swirling in your head.

This was a bad idea.

[shemarmooresfedora]

Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Warnings: swearing

A/N: for my 100 follower celebration (thank you so much), i opened up my fic requests! please just read my brief fic request guidelines before requesting!!! also thank god the ‘read more’ link is finally working for me. so sorry for people who had to scroll on the previous chapters (i am going to go back and fix them now)!!!

Masterlist

Chapter 16

“I’m home!” Spencer called out.

Jo bolted down the stairs and leapt into his arms, “Daddy!”

“Hi, Princess! Did you have a good day?” he asked.

“Yes, I played kickball with Henry at recess today,” she informed him.

“I have a surprise for you,” Spencer smiled, bringing her over to the couch.

You walked out of the kitchen just as Spencer was pulling an envelope out of his bag.

“What’s this?” you asked.

“You’ll see,” he grinned.

Jo pulled three tickets out of the envelope, examining them.

“They’re for the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History, Jo! They have a huge dinosaur exhibit and we can all go together this Friday,” Spencer explained.

“Thank you, Daddy!” she hugged him.

“You’re welcome, Princess. But I want to go too so this isn’t a completely selfless gift,” he chuckled.

-

Jo was waiting on the couch in full dino gear. She was so excited...and then your phone rang.

“Y/N, I can’t make it. I have a case and they really need me. I’m so sorry,” Spencer apologized.

You sighed, “Okay, I’ll tell Jo. Stay safe.”

You hung up the phone and sat down on the couch next to Jo, smoothing her hair back.

“Baby, I have some bad news. Daddy can’t come with us tonight,” you spoke softly.

“Why?” she whispered, tears forming in her lash line.

“He has to help other people who really need him,” you pulled her in for a hug, “But we will still go and have a great time and I’m sure Daddy will make this up to you when he gets home.”

“Okay,” Jo sniffled.

“You are such a brave little girl for letting Daddy help others instead of be with you. Now, let’s go see some dinosaurs.”

-

You didn’t know a bunch of cool facts off the top of your head like Spencer would so you mainly had to read from the plaques that were next to the exhibits.

Jo seemed to have fun regardless but you could tell she was a little down. You were walking to the car when she began to squirm.

“Need to pee,” Jo said.

Knowing she couldn’t hold it until home, you walked into some fancy restaurant hoping they would let you just quickly use the bathroom.

Luckily, they did but you stopped dead in your tracks when you were exiting the bathroom. Spencer was at a table with an attractive woman with a dark-haired bob. They were making some serious eye contact. This didn’t look like an urgent case at all, it looked like a date.

You scurried out of the restaurant before he could see you. Jo didn’t see him either which was a relief because you didn’t know how to tell her that her Daddy was a fucking asshole.

You rushed home, packing bags for you and Jo. You couldn’t be here when he got home. You wouldn’t let him interact with Jo after choosing some girl over her feelings.

“Where are we going?” Jo asked as you loaded the bags into the car.

“We are going to Grandma and Grandpa’s for a little while,” you said as you buckled her in.

“Is Daddy coming?”

“Um no. Daddy may be gone for a while,” you explained.

Once Jo was fast asleep in the car, you finally let yourself break, the tears drenching your cheeks. How could Spencer do this to you and Jo? Apparently you were not enough for him.

-

All of Spencer’s calls and texts were left unanswered. As he arrived home, the lights were off which was weird because you were usually still up by now.

He was still shaken up about the last thing Cat said to him.

“In twenty years, I’ll remember your name but you won’t remember mine.”

All he wanted to do was hug his girls and memorize every single thing about them so he could never ever forget them.

As he walked up the steps, a note was taped to the front door.

Pack your shit and leave. I never want to see you again. Stay away from me and especially Jo.

Spencer pulled out his phone so fast and called you. Voicemail, shit.

“Baby, I’m so sorry I missed the museum but I was already brainstorming ways to make it up to you both. Please come home,” he pleaded.

Spencer dragged himself upstairs, opting to sleep in your bed instead of his. He was so exhausted, he would be useless trying to find you right now.

When Spencer awoke the next morning, the house was still just as empty as it was last night. He sighed, calling Penelope.

“Garcia, could you please track Y/N’s phone? I’ll send you her number,” he asked.

“Do you have a reason?” she countered, “I can’t just go looking up everyone’s location. I mean I could but I need to be able to justify it to the director if they go through my computer.”

“She left a note but she isn’t responding to my calls or texts. I just need to make sure she’s okay.”

“She’s in Fair Haven, New York.”

“That’s over a seven hour drive. She must have driven all night,” Spencer exclaimed.

“So she’s okay?” Penelope asked.

“Yes, thank you, Garcia. Her parents live there.”

Spencer quickly brushed his teeth, repacked his go bag, and set off on his drive.

-

You were all having dinner at the table when there was an urgent knock at the door followed by the doorbell ringing. Your father got up from the table and looked into the entryway.

“He’s here,” he said.

You sighed, walking up to the front door and closing the curtain right in Spencer’s face.

-

You had put Jo to bed and were now peeking out of your old bedroom’s window on the second floor.

“He’s still here?” your mom asked.

Spencer had seated himself on the bench on your front porch and had not left since then.

“Maybe you should talk to him, sweetie. He’s gonna freeze to death out there.”

“Mom, he went on a date with another woman when he was supposed to be taking our daughter to the museum and lied about it to me. I really don’t care,” you said.

“Well, you could at least tell him to leave if you don’t want to talk to him because it seems like he is waiting to say something.”

You sighed, grabbing a quilt from the end of your bed and stomping down the stairs.

“Here,” you opened the door and threw the quilt and a few granola bars at him, trying to close the door quickly again.

“Y/N, please wait!”

The door was already shut. That was as nice as you were willing to be at the moment. No one was forcing him to stay, he could leave at any time. But you weren’t up for hearing whatever he had to say right now.

-

To Spencer’s credit, he did sleep out there all night, not even going back to the warmth of his car.

Jo really wanted to go to the park this morning which means you were going to have to walk past Spencer.

After zipping up her coat, you said, “Jo, we are going to play a game where we don’t talk to Daddy, okay?”

“Why?” she asked curiously.

“Just because,” you sighed.

You lifted her up and opened the door. Spencer looked up, immediately standing up. You tightened your grip around Jo.

“Y/N, can you talk to me please? I don’t understand. You didn’t seem too mad about the case when I called you. I get it was awful timing but-” he rambled as he followed you to the car.

After finishing buckling Jo, you shut the car door. She didn’t need to hear what you were about to say.

“If you want a family so fucking bad, go fuck your side chick and stop trying to weasel your way into ours. I can’t believe you chose getting laid over going to the museum with your own daughter. I had to comfort her crying when I told her you weren’t coming and I said you were helping people but you were only helping yourself. Honestly did you just pretend to like me again so you could get to see your daughter to prove you’re better than your father? Cause from where I stand, Spencer, you’re no better,” you hit him right where you knew it would hurt.

“Y/N, what?” he looked heartbroken but you couldn’t trust anything about him anymore.

You got into the car and reversed out of the driveway, wiping the tears from your face.

“You lost,” Jo said.

“What?” you asked.

“You talked to Daddy.”

“Yeah, baby. I did lose.”

-

You got home late. You had purposely stayed out most of the day to avoid Spencer who was no doubt still camped out on your parent’s front porch.

As soon as you arrived home, he was already walking over to you.

You put your pointer finger up to silence him, “Let me tuck Jo in and then I’ll come down.”

Spencer was sitting on the bench when you returned. You stood by the door with your arms wrapped around you as if to protect yourself.

“I wasn’t on a date,” Spencer whispered.

“I saw, Spencer.”

“Well, I kinda was but it was an undercover mission for a case. I like you, Y/N. Actually, I love you, Y/N. I never stopped loving you...”

“How do I know this isn’t another lie?” you whispered.

Spencer pulled his phone out of his pocket, “I had Garcia forward me Cat Adams’ case file and the security footage from that night. You can see Rossi, JJ, Morgan, and Tara all there but they were dressed up undercover too which is why you didn’t notice them there.”

“I’m sorry,” you spoke softly after reviewing the footage and seeing the mugshots of the woman, “I just assumed and my anger got the best of me. What I said to you about your father was especially cruel and untrue.”

“You had every right to be upset, I know it looked bad. I will try to clarify upcoming cases when I can but sometimes the details are confidential.”

“I promise to listen to your side of the story first next time before making you sleep on a bench outside,” you softly giggled, “and...I love you too. I don’t think I stopped either.”

“Can I kiss you?” he smiled, standing up and slowly approaching you.

“Yes you may, Spence,” you smiled as he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

[the-witty-pen-name]

Deadbeat Pt. 4

Lee Bodecker x F!Reader

18+ ONLY

Warnings: age gap (reader is 21), fluff, angst, smut, cursing, abandonment, toxic parent, violence, toxic siblings, infatuation, cheating/divorce, angst, mild housewife kink, mentions of prostitution, mentions of alcohol, corrupt official

Lee Bodecker x Reader

Arvin Russell x Reader 

Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: You work at the bar at the edge of town, the Sheriff is going through a divorce and needs to rent a room.

A/N: I’m terrible at writing summaries and I’m so sorry about that! I don’t think I would consider this a dark!fic, but it does cover a lot of themes, and topics that are darker than I usually write about- but I think that comes with the territory of writing about Lee Bodecker. I’ll make sure to update the warnings for each chapter and do not read if you are underage. I also ignored canon for this one.

This is unedited, and I missed anything I should include as a warning let me know! This chapter covers a little bit about her relationship with Arvin and some other things as well. I hope you all enjoy!

I also am having some writer’s block with my Obi-Wan Kenobi miniseries I was working on, so expect Part 3 sometime Sunday hopefully! So sorry for the delay on the final chapter.

Tags and Requests are OPEN

You had lost your virginity in the back of Arvin Russell’s pick-up truck. Your mom and you had gotten into a fight again- you don’t even remember what about. You remember she pushed past you to go outside, while you grabbed the phone dialing Arvin’s number. You didn’t even need to say anything. He just knew. He groggily mumbled out that he’d be there soon. And like the sweetheart he was, he was there in the middle of the night to come pick you up. 

Your mom didn’t even look at you as you came out of the house, your coat secured over your pajamas. She just stared out at the dark night and would light herself a cigarette, taking a long drag. He pulled up to your house in his truck and you’d hop in the passenger door. You sat flush with his side, while you cried silently. He drove with one hand on the wheel and the other wrapped tightly around you, occasionally taking his eyes off the road to kiss your temple affectionately. 

There was a spot out by the lake. A small clearing you could get to by driving on an unmarked road through some woods. He would bring you there when you had to get out of your house. Sometimes, he’d just hold you or he brought a large quilt with him and you’d both crawl into the pick-up and lay together watching the stars as he held you close. 

Despite everything that happened, that boy has always been good to you. He was the kind of boy who you could wake up in the middle of the night and he’d show up in his pajamas to come get you no questions asked. You both looked a little silly. Him wearing his work coat and boots with his pajama bottoms and sleep shirt, and you wearing your coat over a nightgown you paired with whatever shoes you had by the door. 

He’d park the truck and pull you into his arms, holding you close and whispering to you that everything was going to be okay. He’d stroke your hair and press small kisses to your cheeks, not caring that they were salty with tears. You never doubted how much that boy loved you. 

He untangled himself from you for a moment so he could grab the blanket off the top of the backrest. He got out of the truck and you followed his lead, he always held out his hand to escort you down. You stood with your arms crossed over your chest and looked at the ground while he spread out the blanket in the pick-up. 

You’d both climb in and kick off your shoes, and he’d pull you into his chest, so you could rest your head on him instead of the floor of the truck’s bed- which was still hard despite the blanket. You’d rest your hand on his torso, aimlessly drawing shapes over his t-shirt while he looked at you like you were the only girl in the world. 

Sometimes, he would try to think and come up with stories to make you laugh. Sometimes, you’d both just talk about your future, wanting to get out of this town. He’d make promises of taking you away from all your troubles and at the time, you truly believed he was your future. Other times, much like this time, you’d cuddle up together and enjoy the quietness, just enjoying the contact of being so close. He’d never press you to talk about your problems, but he was always there to just listen or if you wanted help he’d be there for that too. 

In-between the whispers of promises and comforting words, you’d both share kisses until before you knew it, you were on top of him, straddling his waist and his hands gently gripped your waist. His touches were always respectful, and he’d always wait for an okay before touching you anywhere. At the time, it was what you wanted. 

“I love you so much,” he’d whisper when you broke the kiss to catch your breath. He pressed his forehead to yours and made circles on your sides with his hands. You’d giggle at how his words made you feel, butterflies in your stomach and goosebumps rising on your skin. He’d smile at the sound of your laugh, knowing he was making you feel better. 

“I love you too,” you whisper. He leans up and connects his lips to yours again. They’re so soft and his body is warm. He sits up so his back is up against the back windshield and you’re sitting in his lap. One arm holds you close to him, his thumb delicately rubbing the exposed skin of your thigh, your nightgown gathering at your waist in this new position and the other hand holds your face as he kisses you deeply. His touch makes a soft moan escape your lips and it encourages him to grip your skin a little bit tighter. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he sighs, running a hand through your hair, before ducking down to trail kisses down your jaw and neck. The action makes your hips instinctively grind against him and you feel his hot breath on your neck as he groans at the feeling. His arms hold your back and guide you so you’re laying back down on the blanket again, this time his body above yours. He holds himself up with one hand and moves his jacket over with the other for a pillow for you to use. He leans down and presses his lips to yours again. Your hands find themselves under his shirt, sliding up his torso, and you smile against his lips when he shivers at your touch.

“Please touch me,” you beg softly in his ear and almost immediately his body freezes above you for a moment. You bite your lip and nod, noticing his hesitation. “I want this,” you confirm, leaning up and kissing him again.

His hands push up the fabric of the nightgown and then slowly pull your panties off. He was moving like if he went too fast, you’d break. Your hands go to the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it off of him, and then you kiss him again with much more urgency, guiding his hand to in-between your legs. You moan at the feeling of his hand finding your clit and rubbing it in a gentle circular motion. Everything was just so slow and purposeful, and all very loving. He kissed your neck, biting and leaving small lovebites on your skin as he picks up his pace, sliding two fingers into you.

His fingers curl and move perfectly, he knows your body so well and he’s already memorized what makes you react to his touch. He kisses you again, sliding his tongue into your mouth, suppressing the moans that fall from your lips at his touch. He can have you falling apart just with his hands.

“Arvin, I need you,” you plead, feeling yourself getting very close. “Please.”

He pulls his hands away to pull off your nightgown, and he stares when your nipples harden in the night air. You were the more beautiful sight he’s ever seen. He also pulls off his own pajamas and his boxer shorts, tossing them somewhere behind him. His lips attach to yours again, one hand running down your side and the other cupping your breast, massaging gently. “Are you sure, baby?” he asks in a whisper against your ear. You can feel his length teasing your folds and it was driving you crazy.

“I’m sure,” you moan softly, running a hand through his hair. He’s very careful, sliding into you for the first time. It was his first time too, and he was worried about hurting you. You wince at the feeling and he pampers you with kisses until you’re ready for him to move.

“You’re perfect,” he mumbles against your skin, and your legs wrap themselves around him. The pain you felt shortly after turned into an immense feeling of pleasure and you moved your hips, silently begging him to move. He chuckles softly, and begins to move his hips. He’s so focused on looking at you, looking at your reactions, making sure you’re okay.

“You feel so good,” you praise, your nails gently marking his back. You did really, honest to God, love Arvin Russell.

“(Y/N) I love you so much,” his gaze looking down at you like you’re the only other creature in the world. Both of you were so dumbstruck by love, and the harsh realities of the world hadn’t torn you from him yet.

Even after you finish, he wraps you up in his arms, making the moment all about you. He was so attentive and caring. You worry that you took him for granted when you think back. No place made you feel safer than his embrace. He was the most selfless person you’d ever met and he would do anything you wanted. He made you the center of his life, and you were so thankful to have had him, even if the world got in the way.

But you didn’t know if Arvin was the boy you had thought you wanted. When you got a call to come pick-up Tommy, you never imagined that Arvin had it in him to inflict so much on someone. The boy who never once scared you, secretly held the ability to beat someone so severely. You were livid with your brother. You were absolutely furious- but this wasn’t something that surprised you about him. Arvin surprised you. He had this anger bottled down deep inside him, and you were scared of it. You were angry and confused.

You were mad he didn’t talk to you. He just went off and did it. It was shocking. He almost killed him. The beating was graphic, Tommy still not even telling you everything. You couldn’t bear to hear it. You could rationalize Arvin’s actions if it wasn’t your brother. It was someone so close to you, and it made you look at him differently. You were also so upset that he kept it from you. You wished he told you about Lenora, and about Tommy and his friends hurting her. But he didn’t. He kept it from you, and he handled the situation in the worst way possible.

For a while, all you would see when you looked at him was the cruelty he inflicted on your brother, even if you agreed the creep deserved it. But that was family, and you had a more delusional view of your family back then. You held a loyalty to them that they didn’t return to you, clearly. Not a day went by when you wished it could’ve turned out differently.

When he showed up at your doorstep, begging for forgiveness, his eyes full of regret, you couldn’t picture anything else than how he must have looked when he attacked Tommy. You can only see how horrible Tommy looked when you had to pick him up off of the ground and carry him to your mother’s car. You knew Tommy deserved it, but he was your brother. You can’t blame Arvin for his actions, and you see that now. But when he was sitting on your front porch steps for hours every day hoping you’d come out and talk to him, all you saw in your mind was the version of him that was sadistic enough to inflict that much pain on somebody.

You wonder if this is why you find yourself drawn to the Sheriff. You knew he had skeletons in his closet, but he was much more up front about his own demons than Arvin. With the Sheriff, his own personal devils were worn on his sleeve, even though he thinks the badge hides it well. With Lee Bodecker, what you see is what you get. Even if he had the secrets the town claimed he had, he was no good. His issues weren’t as nicely tucked away as Arvin’s. With the Sheriff, like yourself, your issues were right there on the surface. You could look at Lee and see the pains of his life. He was not nearly as good at hiding his wrongdoings as he thinks. With Arvin, he was good at pushing it back and hiding it away- and you saw now what happens when he choses to let go.

Arvin would linger in your mind occasionally- thinking about all that could have been with him. But your image of him is tainted, and you don’t know if you could love him again like you had when you were blissfully unaware of this side of him.

You aren’t even sure if this is the reason, you’re finding yourself so drawn to Lee. You had a hard time seeing where these lines were being drawn. Your train of thought hasn’t been rational, you don’t think you ever have been in your life. There’s just something about him that has pulled you in that you couldn’t explain. It was getting harder and harder for you to deny the feelings, as confusing as they were.

“Hi, sugar,” the blonde woman says when you open your front door. She’s wearing the nicest clothes, with white sunglasses, and an animal print coat. If she wasn’t in this town, you thought she’d be a Hollywood star or something. “Ain’t you a doll?” she chuckles, looking you over. “My big brother around?” she asks, looking over your shoulder to obviously peer into your house. The action makes you close the door slightly.

“Who are you looking for?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. You look behind her, a man standing on the steps with a camera around his neck accompanied her. The pair of them were a sight, and the two made your skin crawl.

“Lee!” she exclaims, “Lee Bodecker. Don’t he live here? I’m his sister, Sandy. This here is my husband, Carl.”

“One second,” you say quietly, closing the door and locking it, leaving them on the porch. You had an uneasy feeling about the pair of them, that you couldn’t explain.

You run up to his room and knock on the door. “Lee,” you call, obvious distress in your voice.

“What is it?” he asks, door flying open immediately, concern evident on his face.

“Some woman is here asking for you,” you inform him. “Said she’s your sister. Her and her husband are outside on the porch?”

He lets out a sigh, obviously annoyed that the pair would show up. He tells you he’ll take care of it and follows you back downstairs. He heads over to open the door and the two of them step into your house without waiting for the invitation to come in. You see that Lee’s jaw clenches at their actions. He’s upset they’re here. He’s upset they know about you. He doesn’t know what they want yet, and he doesn’t want to find out with you sitting in the room.

“Can you let the adults have some time to talk sweetheart?” Carl says looking over at you, asking you to get lost in your own house. It’s infuriating. Your fist clenches and you see Lee out of the corner of your eye react the same. Sandy shoots you a sympathetic look and Lee silently apologizes, and nods, his way of asking the same. You hold back from fighting with the stranger when you see Lee’s plea. You nod and head upstairs.

“She’s as pretty as a picture,” you overhear Sandy say as you head upstairs. “She your new sweetheart Lee?’

“What do you want Sandy?” you hear Lee ask with a heavy sigh. Out of respect for Lee, and just assuming it was personal family issues, you head to your room- missing the rest of the conversation. You think about how much you can’t wait for those two to get out of your house. You knew it was wrong of you to judge, but Christ that pair just made your skin crawl for a reason you couldn’t explain.

Sandy and Carl had no problem showing up at Lee’s doorstop asking for money. Of course, that reporter Henry Curtis showed up at their door asking for information about Lee, and Sandy didn’t tell him anything. However, she saw this as an opportunity to get something for herself. She thought by not letting the reporter in and sharing information about her brother she deserved a reward. Sandy knew was in the pocket of a lot of people and she thought by threatening to talk to the press she could get something out of Lee. So now, here they are asking for hush money.

“The only reason you’re not behind bars right now is because I chose to look the other way while you’re whoring yourself out,” he points out to her. “I’m letting you walk free and then you have the audacity to ask me for money? What? Because you wouldn’t talk to a reporter? Fuck, Sandy. I thought you were smarter than this.”

“You let me walk free ‘cause it’ll smear your image, Lee,” she points out. “You ain’t doing that out of the kindness of your heart ‘cause you love your baby sister. You won’t win reelection with a sister locked away for prostitution.”

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take,” he spits angrily. “Don’t test me.”

“If you don’t think I’ll blab all your dirty secrets when shows up again, you’re stupid Lee,” she counters. “I think what I’m asking for is more than fair. Lock me up, I don’t care. I’ll make bail and you’ll never hold public office again.”

He feels pinned. All he can think about is getting these two of his sight and out of your house. In the moment, he cares more about that than the money. Fuck it, he thinks. Having this fight with her while you’re upstairs is not worth it. He gets up from the chair, and heads over to his jacket. He pulls a couple hundred dollars of the envelope in his inside pocket from his most recent visit from Brown. “This is for keeping your mouth shut, and for never coming back to this house- call me at the station instead if you need to see me,” he says, handing his sister the small stack of twenties. She nods, kissing his cheek, before they both leave the house as quickly as they entered.

He’s livid. Adrenaline is pumping and he can’t even think straight. He walks over to the window and looks through the curtain, watching the pair drive away. Sandy is driving while Carl looks to be adjusting the radio. He could punch the wall; he can’t even describe the feeling that overcomes him. He’s just overwhelmed, his mind is hazy. He feels like he has no control of his life and he just wants to drive off and never come back to this fucking town. He’s so mad at his sister for showing up here, and even more mad that she brought that fucking husband of hers. He’s pissed thinking about how Carl spoke to you and he’s angry at himself for not coming to your defense. This is who he is. He’s everyone’s lacky. Just letting everyone use him for their own selfish gain. He was complacent when faced with adversary, he always had been. He hates how he’s let himself fall this far down. He’s nothing more than a pushover.

You assume the pair left when you hear Lee close the door to his room, loudly. It surprises you and makes you jump. You decide to head over to his room and see if everything is okay. You get up from your bed and put your book on your nightstand, heading over to his room. You’re concerned and you know there probably nothing you can do to help. But he was so helpful and attentive when that reporter had you so upset. You needed to offer to return the favor at least. You only knock once before his door flies open, and he’s looking down at you. Anything you were planning on saying is lost and the look he’s giving you makes your mind go completely blank.

You don’t know who made the first move. It was like you both went in for the kiss frantically at the exact same time. The kiss was hungry and feverish. Both of your just pulling each other as close as physically possible. His hands run up your back and tangle in your hair, tugging gently, making you moan. Your arms wrap tightly around his neck and he uses his foot to kick the door closed.

“Fuck, doll,” he groans when he pulls back for air. Both of you are panting, and neither one of you know what you say. You both just look at each other wide eyed, your eyes scanning his wondering where the hell that came from. You don’t give yourself much time to think about it, pulling him in for another kiss by the tie of his uniform.

Part Five

Taglist:

@scar-is-bi @jiminlife2k18 @asylummaniac01​ @rosalynshields​ @charmed-asylum @jamesbuchananbuckybarnes1917 @alexandrathegreat3

[fawnandshadows]

After The Ceremony - Chapter 5

Happy Saturday!

I was going to wait until Tuesday to post the last chapter of After The Ceremony, but I just couldn't wait! I am so close to finishing the first chapter of my new fic called You Painted Me Golden which I will be posting later this week maybe even Tuesday. I wanted to thank everyone who has read, liked, reblogged, and commented on this story! I never would have finished without all of your encouragement, and I am so appreciative! This story can also be found on AO3

Rating: M

Word Count: 3,903

Warnings: Not super explicit, but nsfw just to be safe

Azriel was a wreck of nerves as he stared at the solid wooden door in front of him. Elain was on the other side — his soulmate, his literal soulmate, his other half was only a knock away, and Azriel, who had been in countless battles and performed unspeakably brutal acts without so much as flinching, was scared. He was scared to show her the knowledge the book in his hand held because even though he knew that Elain had feelings for him, what if she didn’t want this?

He took a steadying breath and raised his fist to knock when the door opened. His hazel eyes looked down to find a flustered Elain looking up at him, her brown eyes warm with relief and crackling with desire. The little sigh that escaped nearly broke him.

“Hi,” Az said lamely, but that was all it took for Elain to launch herself at him. Her arms twining around his neck and her legs wrapping around his hips, her sweet smell of jasmine went straight to his head, and he had to prop his hand against the door jam because his knees wobbled and threatened to give out. “Elain.” He groaned and took a deep breath, trying to inhale as much of her scent as he could.

“I missed you,” Elain whispered and pulled back to plant kisses across his face. She stopped long enough to give him a heated yet shy smile, “Thanks for coming back.”

“I’ll always come back, Elain,” Azriel said and pressed his lips to her forehead. She was so small it was adorable how easily she fit in his arms, even when he was holding her she wasn’t quite eye-level. “Always.”

She beamed at him, and her smile looked like sunlight streaming through a rain cloud, and suddenly every worry, every hesitation, and every apprehension disappeared. He walked through the door, set her on the closest surface —which happened to be the counter in her kitchenette that was also splattered with flour and filled with baking equipment— at his questioning glance she said, “I was stress baking.”

Azriel released a small chuckle and fully took in her appearance. Flour was sprinkled in her messy hair and her cheeks were flush, she had an almost drunken look on her face as she gazed at him with heavy eyes. She looked absolutely adorable. He loved seeing her rumpled and flustered. And suddenly an image burst into his mind of Elain with a rounded belly breaking bread, and two children — an older male with dark hair, and a younger female honeyed hair— running through the kitchen, and his heart started to ache.

The small smile on her face tugged at his heart.

“Have you seen that? In one of your visions,” Azriel asked and at her confused look he explained. “Us, or you, with children.” The loving, knowing smile on her face was his answer.

Wordlessly, Azriel opened the book from the library and handed it to her. She looked surprised, as if she had forgotten everything that had happened that morning, and took the book from him. A frown creased her brow as she concentrated on the words in front of her, and Azriel soaked in every small movement her face made. He was so used to watching her from afar that he relished the opportunity to gaze at her freely. Her face was so naturally expressive it warmed his heart that she didn’t feel the need to guard herself and hide what she was feeling around him, he had noted that she did it with the rest of their family, but not with him.

Slowly Elain lifted her head and her wide eyes connected with Azriel’s. He spent the last 500 years training himself to have an unreadable face at all times, and all that hard word came crumbling down as Elain let out a breathy “oh.” He let her see everything he was feeling: his fear, his anxiety, his limitless and unyielding love. He put it all on his face for her to see.

Elain, more collected than she had the right to be, placed the book beside her and cupped his face in her hands. Azriel stepped between her legs, and his hands gently landed on her hips. He felt the breath leave his lungs as Elain pressed the sweetest kiss on his lips. She pulled back just enough and said, “I love you, Azriel.”

Her heart was threatening to crack her ribs in two. Elain couldn’t bring herself to say anything else once she saw the openness on his face, her heart almost broke at the tender emotions laid bare on Azriel’s beautiful face. Elain watched, and the shadowsinger was surprisingly easy to read without his walls up — she saw the disbelief, the twinge of uncertainty, and wanted nothing more than to wipe away all of his fears and self doubt. She supposed she had the rest of her life to do that.

“I love you, Azriel,” Elain repeated herself and brought his face closer to hers. She brushed her lips against his, which were slightly more puckered than usual due to her hands holding his cheeks, and she had to hold her own tears back as she felt his warm tears stream down his face. “And I need you to know that. This soul bond between us, whatever it is, I would love you just as much without it. I love every scar on your body, and I won’t stop loving everything about you until my heart stops beating because it only beats for you.”

She kissed him again. Her fingers cupped his strong jaw, and his grip on her hips was so tight she knew there would be bruises, but she didn’t mind — she loved how strong he was, and she didn’t want him to hold back, ever. Their lips moved together, slow and unrushed yet Elain could feel his emotion with every brush of his tongue. She pulled back and brushed away his tears with her lips. Her hand slid down his neck to rest over his chest, and Elain could feel his heart pounding just as hard as her own.

“Soul mates, huh?” Elain asked with a silly grin. “How would you feel if I said I already guessed that?”

Azriel let out a harsh laugh.

“Did you?”

Elain gave him a playful nod and said, “Yes. Ever since we all sat down to dinner the first night, I just couldn’t get you out of my head, and when you came for me. I was screaming so loudly, so loudly down whatever bond I could find, and you came for me. When I saw you I knew that my prayers had been answered — in more ways than one. That was when I knew you were the only male for me. The only male that I would ever want. The only male I would ever love.”

Azriel’s hand came up and pressed against hers, pushing her hand closer to his chest to feel the beating of his heart. He licked his lips before saying in a broken voice, “This is yours. I tried to ignore it for so long, I hope it wasn’t — I hoped my heart couldn’t belong to someone else because that’s fucking terrifying. And I thought that it made sense in a perfectly twisted way, that I finally found someone I could love and somebody who could love me back, but the only catch was that she had a mate— the cauldron had given hers to someone else,” A small smile formed at his lips. “I should have known you wouldn’t give a damn about what the cauldron said. I’m not very good with my words, but I will show you everyday that I love you. When I bring you coffee in the morning. When I kiss you awake and kiss you to sleep. When I have to beat up Cassian for the stupid things he says,” Elain couldn’t stop the laugh that forced it’s way out. “Just know that whatever I do, I do it with love for you.”

Elain flung herself at Azriel, and this time he was prepared for her. His arms enclosed her in the safest place she had ever known. Azriel lifted her off the counter, without breaking their kiss, and carried her into her room. He only stopped when his shins hit the wood of the bed, and he let out a curse as he took in the tiny cot.

“It was just meant for one. I don’t think my sister thought I would be… entertaining in the bedroom.” Elain explained with a blush. Gods did he love when she blushed.

“Hold on tight, Love.” Azriel said, and Elain knew what was coming next. In the blink of an eye everything was black and she was engulfed in shadow, and a moment later she was back in Azriel’s room. It looked exactly how it did early this morning when she left it. The same fire crackling in the fireplace and the same cozy quilt on the bed. Elain thought it was cute that he slept with the quilt, but she wasn’t sure why.

Azriel tossed her gently on the bed, only to prop his arms on either side of her, and kiss her again. He kissed her as if he were drinking from her, sipping at her lips, as if she was his only source of life. Elain let out a moan as her finger went to his hair. She loved his hair. He kissed her, and with every kiss they leaned a little farther back on the bed until he was crushing her with his weight. She loved how heavy he was on top of her; it made her feel safe. Elain brought her legs up to wrap around his hips, and she shifted her legs forward in a deliberate move, and this time they both let out a groan at the friction.

Scarred hands fisted in her dress, and Azriel pulled away to ask, “Can I take this off?”

“Yes,” Elain said breathlessly. “Just don’t rip it. It’s hard to find dresses that match your siphons.”

“I love you so much,” Azriel said with a surprisingly gentle kiss, and removed her dress with such delicacy it was borderline reverent, and in no time she was naked beneath him.“And I’m going to tell you every day for the rest of our lives. Morning,” Azriel pressed his lips to her lips. “Noon,” He kissed her bare stomach. “And night.” He pressed a kiss to her hot center.

All of his desperation seemed to have melted away and he licked at her like she was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted, as if she was something to be savored and enjoyed. Elain wished she had his serenity, but her fire was burning hotter than ever, and Azriel’s tongue was the only thing that could soothe her. She gripped his hair a little too harshly and ground against her face in a lewdness she had never experienced before.

The growl that came from Azriels throat vibrated in all the right places that she couldn’t stop herself from coming all over his face. She rode out her orgasm, until the fog lifted from her mind, and when she opened her eyes she saw his molten eyes gazing at her as he licked her center. His wings fluttered ever so slightly.

“Oh,” Elain said with a sudden wave of doubt. “Was- was that ok?”

He grinned at her in a way that promised pleasure and said, “That was more than ok,” He crawled up the bed to her until he was right above her. “I think hearing you scream as you come on my tongue is my new favorite sound.”

Elain’s face heated and she gently pushed his shoulder.

“Do you think someone heard?” Elain whispered and Azriel threw his head back with a laugh. A wild and free sound that resonated deep in Elain’s soul. He didn’t think he had ever laughed when he was in bed with a woman before, but he found he loved it.

“I hope they did.” Azriel said with a self-satisfied smile, and laughed even harder at Elain’s horrified expression. He didn’t stop himself from kissing her nose. He would never stop himself from kissing her ever again.

“Az!” Elain whisper-yelled, and Azriel couldn’t help but adore her more.

“Promise me something,” Azriel said. His hand found hers, and he wrapped their fingers together before brushing his lips against her delicate fingers. “Promise me that you will never hold back. Never suppress your sighs, moans, or screams — even if you’re screaming at me for something I did wrong,” The vulnerability in his voice nearly shattered Elain’s heart. “Never feel embarrassed when you feel anything, especially when you feel pleasure.” The vulnerability melted away into something smoother and headier that caused Elain’s skin to heat and prickle.

“I promise.”

Azriel shifted just a little and Elain felt the blunt edge of him at her entrance, and she didn’t even try to stop the moan came from her throat. He brought their entwined hands up over her head, and the other placed itself at her hip. Elain would have sworn that her blood was boiling wherever he touched her.

“Are you ready?” Azriel asked, and Elain was too muddled from her lust to form words, so she gave him the barest of nods. His lips captured hers is a slow, lazy kiss, and if Elain were capable of thinking she would have been irritated by how collected he was. She felt more impatient than she had in her entire life, and true to her promise she didn’t hold back, she lifted her hips and let out a sharp breath at the feel of him inside of her.

Elain’s eyes had opened just in time to see Azriel’s roll back into his head.

“Fuck.” Azriel let out a jagged breath. He held himself still, Azriel knew how large he was and that Elain needed to adjust to the size of him, the feeling of her soft, velvety heat clenching around him — coupled with an ungodly amount of restraint — caused his body to tremble. He waited until he felt her relax around him before pressing deeper into her, and after a small eternity she accepted all of him.

“Elain,” Azriel said in a strained voice. He waited to hear Elain’s incoherent mumbling before speaking again. “I’m not sure how gentle I can be.”

The brown eyes that gazed up at him somehow turned incredibly clear.

“I’ll take whatever you give,” Elain said with a loving smile. “I don’t want you to hold back either.”

She had shattered his self control — completely annihilated it and smashed it to smithereens. He heard him promise her that the next time would be better, but his hips were already snapping into hers, and then their lips were seering each other's skin, and the smell of their arousal and sweat perfumed the room.

Neither of them cared that the bedframe was hitting the wall at an alarming rate, and that if their family didn’t know what was happening, then they certainly did now.

The only thing the lovers cared about was each other.

Azriel had never left so drained, yet so light, after making love. Actually, Azriel thought, this was probably the first time he had ever made love before.

Soon after Azriel found his release he gracelessly flopped onto Elain. He didn’t have the strength to lift himself up, or pull himself out of her body, but he needed to feel her. Feeling her skin against his reminded Azriel that it was real — that what had happened between them, something he had never even let himself dare to hope, was real and that no one would take it from him.

“Azriel?” Elain said, her voice thick with sleepy pleasure. This time it was Azriel’s turn to form some type of disjointed reply of random sounds, which caused a sense of giddiness to flood Elain. She had done that to the shadowsinger. She made him feel so good that he couldn’t form words. “I think we should do that as often as possible,” She suggested and was pleased when she felt him nod. His head was tucked into her shoulder, and his hair tickled her neck. “I think I want us to make love in a meadow. I found this beautiful clearing a couple months ago, it’s so secluded, it would be the perfect spot. I want to see how your skin looks in the sunlight, fully exposed. All of your skin.”

Azriel could tell that she was slightly embarrassed by her request, and his heart thrummed excitedly with the knowledge that she felt safe and comfortable enough to share that with him. He didn’t think he would ever get used to that. He peered up at her and said, “As you wish, my love.”

Eventually, their frantic love making turned into lazy melding of their bodies and souls. All day and night they planted hot kisses on each other, their bodies easily finding a perfect pace every time they made love, and they stopped only when they felt the need to sleep, but whoever woke up first would wake the other in the most delightful way.

Nobody dared disturb them. Not even to bring them food.

As the dawn broke the next morning Elain and Azriel came to an unspoken agreement that it was finally time to face their family and return to reality, no matter how much they wished they could stay in their own world they created. When they finally tore themselves away from each other long enough to put some clothes on and go downstairs, they realized how hungry they were. Not two seconds after smelling the freshly cooked bacon did Elains stomach growl, in a very unladylike way, and notify everyone in the dining room of their presence.

Everything looked almost the same as it did the day before, except this time Mor was sitting at the table with an absurd amount of food piled on her plate, and Lucien was nowhere to be found.

Mor was looking at the pair with a knowing grin, and Cassian’s wolfish smile was almost enough to ruin the bliss that Elain and Azriel felt. Almost, but not quite. Feyre and Nesta looked almost as happy as Elain felt, and both Az and Elain were surprised at the happiness on Rhysand’s face.

“Good morning.” Elain said tentatively. She noted that they didn’t bother to wait for them to eat. Azriel didn’t say anything, but he followed Elain to the buffet table and held two plates that she filled with bacon, ham, eggs, bread, and potatoes. It was more food than Az had ever seen Elain eat at once, and a blush coated her cheeks at his raised everbrow. It was obvious to everyone in the room how Elain had worked up such an appetite.

They remained silent as they sat in the two open seats at the table, ignoring how everyone watched their movements. Azriel smiled fondly as he watched Elain prepared their coffee.

“Took my advice, huh?” Cassian broke the silence, which caused a flurry of events. Mor, Feyre, and Nesta all scolded him — Mor even smacked him on the head. Amren gave an amused smile, and Rhysand rolled his eyes affectionately, but his smile turned wolfish as well.

“Do you know?” Elain asked, fighting off any embarrassment she might have felt. She didn’t love the idea of her family knowing all of the sensual details, but she knew she did nothing wrong. Maybe someday she would feel more comfortable discussing her sex life, but right now she wanted to keep it between her and Azriel. “About the bond?”

They all nodded their heads.

“And you're happy about it?” Elain asked the group, but it was really directed towards Rhysand.

“Why wouldn’t we be?” Rhysand said with an annoying grin. “A bond created by the Mother certainly trumps a mating bond, and now that there is no cause for a Blood Duel there’s no real chance of you guys starting the next war,” The High Lord stopped and thought for a moment. “Hopefully.”

Elain reached under the table to grab Azriel’s hand to give it a squeeze. All of her worries were quickly vanishing except one. She turned to Feyre to ask, “Is Lucien still here?”

Feyre looked at her with surprise in her blue eyes, and Elain knew why; She never once sought out Lucien before, but Elain had hoped to catch him before he left. She didn’t want any more misunderstandings or hurt feelings.

“He’s packing now,” Feyre explained. “At some point yesterday after you left breakfast Lucien tried to feel you through the bond, but the bond wasn’t there,” Her eyes went back and forth between her sister and the spymaster. “We connected the dots after Mor told us what happened.”

“I’d like to speak with him before he leaves.” Elain said, and that was the end of that. They all went back to their breakfasts and simply enjoyed the food and each other's company, and they tolerated Cassian’s crude jokes.

It was an hour after they had finished breakfast that Lucien was ready to travel home to the human lands. Feyre, Rhysand, Elain, and Azriel waited in the parlor to see him off. Lucien shook hands with Rhysand and said a quick goodbye before turning to Feyre to give her a warm hug. When Lucien finally turned towards Elain, who was tucked into Azriel’s side, his eyes widened and he let out a small gasp as he saw the bond between them. For whatever reason he hadn’t noticed the bond between them yesterday, and it was only now that he saw the silver-blue river flowing between them. Elain would have loved to see it again.

“I hope you travel safely,” Elain said with a kind smile. “And I hope there are no hard feelings.”

Lucien tipped his head towards her and said, “I hope you are happy,” He turned towards Azriel and almost all of the warmth in his face had faded. Their relationship was still impersonal and cold, but they had hundreds of years to fix that. “Treat her well.” Was all the goodbye that Azriel got, and the shadowsinger’s response was only a narrowing of his eyes.

“Oh, Lucien!” Elain remembered right before Lucien went on his way. A big smile formed on her face as she said, “Vassa loves orange carnations. Especially ones from the field where you walk.”

Elain was delighted by the blush that appeared on his face, and the stutter that he had as he tried to figure out how she knew. It took a second before everything clicked into place and he realized that she had seen it. Lucien gave a warm thank you before leaving.

“Playing matchmaker?” Feyre asked with a bright smile.

“The world could use more love.” Elain responded before beaming up at Azriel, and she saw him gazing down at her with pure adoration and unadulterated affection. Love churned in his hazel eyes.

“I agree.” Azriel muttered and pulled her into a kiss.

They were finally free to kiss as much as they wanted, and Azriel was going to make every kiss count.

[therealvinelle]

A note for Nebuchadnezzar’s Dream

Do I feel awful doing this, yes.

Am I still doing it, god yes.

This post contains a series of photos relevant to the upcoming chapter of Nebuchadnezzar’s Dream. I was going to link them in the author’s note, but as these links are all to online stores they’ll be taken down sooner or later. Better to post in image form on tumblr.

Without further ado, click the readmore if you want fashion eyesores.

So, I think I spoil nothing when I say that Jane and Alec are going to have to pass as Cullens in the next chapter. Carlisle, too, is desperately trying to dress like it’s a normal day for normal people who aren’t about to collectively fake their own deaths.

Naturally I asked myself exactly what these poor people are going to wear. One thing led to another, I consulted the fandom ghost, and we put our heads together. Three rules, and three rules only: one, it has to be pale. If it’s beige it’s probably too dark. Two, it has to be high end, but the high end for high end’s sake kind of high end (Jane was almost put in designer fake riding clothes because of this). Three, it has to be Alice.

Apart from that, no rules, no mercy, no God.

In the end we had something words can’t even describe.

Literally.

I can’t describe this with words in the fic. I’ll try, but the only way to properly convey the full awful of what Alec, Jane, and Carlisle have to wear in the upcoming chapter is to show you guys photos.

(Also, yes, I know that for Jane and Alec I used no children’s collections, but the children’s fashion lines I found just weren’t Alice enough. This jacket, for instance (not putting photo, but it’s a vintage rose pink, white collar quilted barbour jacket for girls) would make Jane set herself on fire but it doesn’t have that quintessentially Cullen something.)

Alec

Jacket: Dior raincoat, beige color.

Picture 12-year-old Alec in this, in public, and tell me he doesn’t wish those humans in 800 AD finished the job.

Sweater: V-necked Ralph Lauren polo sweater, cream color.

I’m sure the poor boy is using his gift on himself to numb the sartorial agony of wearing this.

Trousers: Prada technical wide-leg pants.

Nevermind faking his death, this kid wants to die for real so long as he’s sporting these.

Shoes: Salvatore Ferragamo desert boot, suede walnut.

As of these shoes, Alec’s sporting the brightest pop of color in the crew. Good on you, Alec, except not good on you because you’re wearing these shoes.

Jane

Jacket: Barbour Elizabeth quilted jacket, cream color.

Sweater: Tommy Hillfiger ivory turtleneck.

This is starting to feel like child abuse. Tucked into the skirt, of course.

Skirt: Saks Fifth Avenue Donna Karan skirt with a belt.

Of course it’s a khaki skirt. Sorry, Jane.

Shoes: Tory charm two-tone loafers.

I was gonna go for tory burch, but these bad boys felt like they were created solely to hurt fictional child vampires.

Accessories:

1: Chanel headband.

Look at those sly C’s forming a pattern, just in case you were worried people wouldn’t realize your child’s headband was in fact stupidly expensive designer. Can be yours for the small price of $600!

2: Louis Vuitton hobo dauphine.

We were done, but I thought I could hurt her just a bit more. Landed on this.

Carlisle

Coat: Hugo Boss beige trench coat with belt.

Chosen in part because the model’s face is how I too would feel wearing that.

Sweater: Oversized Tommy Hillfiger ivory turtleneck.

In a desperate attempt to look Related™ to Jane, he wears a matching sweater to hers. Also, sorry I couldn’t find a better link. But hey, model’s got that pretending he’s not dead inside look on his face like the camera team taking this photo, the designers who created the sweater, the agent who got him this gig, he’s never forgiving any of them.

Trousers: White Tom Ford brushed straight-leg trousers.

One of my kidneys shrivelled up and died when the ghost sent me this. Hoping I never see anybody wear it in life because that could very well spell my end.

Shoes: Bruno Culcinelli chelsea boots, suede sand.

Good news is this is the last one, bad news is your eyes are seeing this.

Funny how none of these people are real, yet I feel like I owe them all an apology.

If you can think of something even more awful I want to hear it. Drop it in the notes, and if your suggestion makes me want to kill someone then in the chapter it goes.

As for when the next chapter comes out, since I just dropped a massive teaser I’ll try to have it out as soon as possible. Within a week or so, but let’s shoot for the end of the weekend.

[aethelflaedladyofmercia]

Hey, everyone! I’ve been saying for a bit I want to get some fics from prompts I’ve written onto AO3 but...it’s so hard...ok it’s not hard, Executive Dysfunction is just kicking my butt. I’m going to post some of them to Tumblr today. If you want to help these babies get on AO3, they need: titles, tags, you pestering me in the comments. If you don’t think they’re good enough for AO3 - fair enough, just hit the little heart if they make you smile!

Prompt: Aziraphale reading to Crowley

(Requested by @zadusk and @lyricwritesprose)

“Sorry, can’t help you,” the innkeeper said, “just rented out our last room.”

“What?” Crowley crossed his arms, huffing through his nose. This was Bethlehem all over again. “This town is in the middle of nowhere, it has three inns, how can they all be sold out?”

“I don’t know what to tell you.” The innkeeper shut the ledger. “Everyone’s headed down to London, and we’re on the way. Now. I can offer you a hot meal, and for, let’s say, half the price of a room you can sleep in the stables. The hay loft is clean, apart from the mice—”

“Stablesss!” Crowley hissed, slapping his hand on the counter. “Do I look like someone who sleeps in stables?”

The innkeeper didn’t appear remotely impressed. “You look like someone who is going to be sleeping in a hedge. Looks like a storm tonight. Good evening.” And he spun away, calling out to the cook in the back room.

“Oi!” Crowley shouted. “Get back here, you—!”

“Crowley! Whatever are you doing here?” The familiar voice was half delighted, half scolding. Aziraphale appeared beside him, same white suit as the last time they’d met, top hat tucked under his arm. “I thought I made it clear we shouldn’t see each other so often. Since I opened the shop, it’s been—”

“Yes, I know.” Crowley waved a hand and turned away. “I’m not here for you, Angel, I have actual business in York.”

“Really?” Despite his words, Aziraphale trailed behind him. “How interesting. I’m just returning from York – oh, no, you don’t think they’ve sent you to undo all my work again, do you?”

Crowley snorted. “No bet.” He dropped his voice into a low whisper. “This is why we need to meet up more often. Look at all this time we’re wasting! And now I have to march through the bloody night in the rain because there’s no place to sleep—”

“Oh! Well, I wouldn’t dream of it. You can share my room.”

“Ngk?!” Crowley’s brain crashed into his skull with all the speed and grace of a train wreck. “Mf. Yk. No I can’t – Aziraphale!”

“Oh, my word – obviously, I’m not planning – that!” His voice dropped even lower and he tugged on Crowley’s elbow. “Don’t be crude, dear fellow. I have a room with a bed that I’m not intending to use. You can have it. I just need a chair to sit in while I read.”

“Jgk.” Crowley turned away, taking a deep breath through his nose. It made sense. He could sleep. Aziraphale could read. No getting soaked, or lost in the dark, or needing to fight off highwaymen or anything of the sort. “Fffine. We can. Er. Do that.”

“Jolly good.” He could practically hear the angel straightening his waistcoat. “Now that’s settled. I’ve already had my supper and was about to head up. Unless you’re hungry—”

“No, no, now is fine.” He still couldn’t quite meet Aziraphale’s eyes. “Lead the way.”

The room, it turned out, was nearly as advertised.

A double-sized bed with a straw-tick and a quilt. A little stand with a pitcher of water and bowl for washing up. Windows that could be tightly shuttered to block out some of the city noise.

The only thing missing, really, was the chair.

“Oh.” Aziraphale’s fingers tapped on his book and he glanced around, as if a seat might be hiding in the corner. “Well, er…”

“It’s fine. I can leave.” Crowley turned on his heel and reached for the latch.

“Absolutely not! I won’t hear of it. You get settled and I’ll – ah – I’ll miracle in a chair.” He peered around the narrow room. “Somewhere.”

“Look, I can—”

“No. Miracle yourself a nightgown or whatever it is you need.”

“I—”

“Hush!”

Resigning himself, Crowley waved his clothes into something more comfortable for sleeping and crawled under the blanket. It was…slightly better than sleeping in the stables, he supposed. The straw was lumpy and the sheet covering it coarse, but the pillow was well-stuffed with goose-down, a luxury he could get used to. He shifted onto his back, trying to find a comfortable angle.

Instead, he found Aziraphale, standing beside the bed, staring blankly at the wall. “There…well…it would appear there isn’t room for a chair,” he confessed. “Not one that will fit my, er…my current corporation comfortably, that is.”

Crowley looked at the ceiling. He could sleep up there, but it would mean abandoning the pillow. Or. Or.

“Look, Angel,” he said as casually as he could. You can, um, you can sit on the bed. I’m not going to be offended or anything. It’s fine.”

“No, I couldn’t – couldn’t possibly—”

“Aziraphale. It’s really fine.”

The quilt tugged, folded back, and with a rustle of straw Aziraphale settled into the mattress. He sat straight, stiff, and so close to the edge he might topple off.

Even so, he was alarmingly close.

“You, um. You need the candle?”

“No, my own light will be sufficient, thank you.”

“Yeah. Obviously.” Crowley tossed his glasses onto the little table and waved a finger at the candle, which immediately snuffed out, leaving the room dark except for the soft glow of Aziraphale, gently illuminating his book.

Crowley closed his eyes and prepared to fall asleep.

He turned onto one side. No good, too close to the edge.

He turned the other way, or started to, freezing when he felt how close the angel’s warmth was.

Then he lay on his back again. The whole room fell very, very still.

“Bless it, Aziraphale, will you relax?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I can practically hear your muscles creaking. How am I supposed to all asleep with all that – that tension barely six inches away!”

“I don’t know what you might be referring to. I am – am perfectly relaxed here, reading my book and you – you interrupt with these – these pointless accusations.”

Crowley gave up and turned on his side, facing Aziraphale, giving him as hard a stare as he could manage. “Your book is upside down, Angel.”

“Is it?” He swallowed. “I mean, of course it is. I am training myself to read upside-down text, a highly useful skill, which I’m sure—”

Crowley shut his eyes. “This was a terrible idea.” He sat up, swinging his legs off the bed.

“Where are you going?”

“Look, Aziraphale, neither of us is actually comfortable with this. So I’m just going to head out. If I leave now, I might make it to the next town before the rain starts, and maybe they’ll have a room. You can have this one and—”

“Crowley,” he said, voice much softer than expected. “My dear fellow. I won’t be able to relax knowing you’re out there. I know you won’t be in – in any real danger but…I would rather know that you’re safe.”

He stared ahead, sitting perfectly still in the way that only beings who aren’t really alive can – no breath, no heartbeat, no tiny motions.

Then, slowly, Crowley pulled his legs back under the quilt and lay on his back.

“What’s this book about, anyway?” he asked.

“Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping?”

“It’ll help. Trust me. What is it – poetry? Ancient epics about glorious wars? Not Hamlet again, I hope, that play is a gloomy mess of—”

“No, nothing of the sort. It’s…well, it’s a sort of love story.”

That didn’t sound too bad. “Sort of?”

“Well, yes, it’s more a – a study of the manners and traditions of courtship. Our heroine is the second of five sisters, and there’s a great deal riding on finding them suitable husbands, but her choices are, well…not especially appealing.”

“Does she tell them to go jump in a lake?”

“Not in so many words,” Aziraphale said disapprovingly. “But yes, she has so far turned down two proposals quite bitingly. Although I think she was a bit hasty in her judgement of one of the young men.”

“I like it.” Crowley turned to look at Aziraphale, and found the angel had relaxed, and moved just a little closer. “What’s it called, anyway?”

“Pride and Prejudice.” His fingers tapped against it. “Just released last year. I must try and find the author’s other work when I finish.”

“Well, you’ll have to tell me how it ends.”

“Oh, are you…interested?”

“Hmm,” Crowley settled his head a little further into the pillow. “I do like a good drawing room drama. Perhaps I should pick out a few dresses and spend a year or two back in those circles.”

“As I recall, you were always deceitful and wicked and caused many a scandal.”

“I should hope so. Otherwise, what’s the point?”

Aziraphale smiled down at him, and it made Crowley feel light-headed in a way that had nothing to do with sleep. “Then I imagine you’ll be brilliant at it.” He suddenly turned away, looking at the shuttered window. “Oh! Do you hear that? The rain has started.” The first drops were tapping against the shutters fitfully.

“Good thing I didn’t go out.”

“Yes.” Aziraphale looked at the book again. “Er, would you like me to…to read it to you? Just the first part, until you fall asleep.”

“I…” Crowley cleared his throat. “Yeah. I mean, your voice puts me to sleep half the time anyway, so…”

“Oh, yes, absolutely wonderful. Let me just get the first volume.” He hopped out of bed and hurried over to his jacket, rummaging in the pocket to pull out another hardcover book. When he returned to the bed, it was with almost no self-consciousness, wriggling comfortably against his pillow only a few inches away from Crowley.

“Now, let’s see…yes, here. ‘It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife…’”

It was strange, seeing the angel from this angle, round face slightly lit by his own glow, little smile curving up his lips as the words bubbled out excitedly. His voice rose and fell as he read, trying to paint a picture of Longbourne and Netherfield and the lives of the Bennet sisters. Crowley could get used to it, the look, the sound, the soft familiarity of it all. Not that he was likely to have an opportunity.

He didn’t close his eyes. Not yet.

--

“‘But I can assure you,’ she added,” Aziraphale was quite enjoying the voice he had chosen for Mrs. Bennet, raising it now in slightly erratic excitement. “‘that Lizzy does not lose much by not suiting his fancy; for he is a most disagreeable, horrid man, not at all worth pleasing.’” He shifted again, raising his arm to better articulate the dialogue. “‘So high and so conceited that there was no enduring him! He walked here, and he walked there, fancying himself so very great! Not handsome enough to dance with!’” He dropped his voice into a vicious hiss. “‘I wish you had been there, my dear, to have given him one of your set downs. I quite detest the man.’”

He glanced to his left, grinning, hoping to see Crowley’s reaction to his bit of acting, but the demon had at some point fallen asleep. He lay half on his back, still facing Aziraphale, shock of red hair across the white pillow. His mouth hung slightly open and something emerged that was almost a snore, but rather too small to really qualify. It was drowned out by the wind and rain outside, rattling the shutters. Now and then, in the distance, thunder rumbled.

“Well. I suppose…yes, you sleep now.” Aziraphale turned to put the book down, thinking to find the second volume and pick up where he’d left off.

“Nf.” Crowley turned onto his side, one arm flinging out towards Aziraphale’s waist. “D’n stp,” he mumbled. “Jus’ gettn gud.”

“Er, are you…awake?” The arm tightened slightly, and Crowley pulled closer, pressing himself against Aziraphale’s side. “Crowley, er, dear…you’re…”

“M’fine.” He sighed, not seeming aware of the world at all. “S’nice.”

For a long moment, Aziraphale stared at the demon who had – had invaded his space. Had settled against him in a most – most awkward and undignified way.

Well. There was really only one thing to do.

Aziraphale slid a little lower against the pillow, until he’d surrounded Crowley in the crook of his arm. “Is that better, dear?”

“St’ry.” But he settled into that space between Aziraphale’s side and his arm with a content sigh, arm now draped across the angel’s chest.

Oh, dear. This is not going to be easy to explain when he wakes up. But that wouldn’t be for several hours, at least, and right now, there was a very small smile on Crowley’s lips.

“Well. Chapter four. ‘When Jane and Elizabeth were alone, the former, who had been cautious in her praise of Mr. Bingley before, expressed to her sister how very much she admired him…’”

--

Thanks for reading! Pride and Prejudice was initially published in three volumes, in 1813, attributed simply to “The Author of Sense and Sensibility.” I have no idea what was going on in York in 1814 - I mostly needed someplace they could walk to but would take several days - so feel free to attribute whatever historical events you can think of to these dummies! 

[onceuponastory]

Coming Back Home: Chapter Seven - Whistle For the Choir

“Is it out of line if I was to be bold and say "Would you be mine"? Because I may be a beggar and you may be the queen I know I may be on a downer, I'm still ready to dream” - whistle for the choir: the fratellis

Plot: Based on a prompt by @orphicodysseywrites​

Tag List: @shinydixon​, @baker151910​, @silverwings1999 and @thesundrop​. Let me know if you want to be added!

Warnings: Some mentions of alcohol and anxiety. Also a few tiny sex mentions/references but nothing smutty. Notes: Wow. So it’s been a while since I’ve posted for this fic, hasn’t it? I’m sorry about that. BUT I love this story, and I intend to finish it. This chapter is more of a filler one before the wedding in the next chapter or two, so Y/N and Nick’s relationship isn’t a huge focus, but I hope you all enjoy it regardless!

Read the other parts / Read this story on Wattpad!

Disclaimer: I do NOT own Nick or his character! I just used Nick bc he’s the only character of Dacre’s that fits this prompt. Aside from Nick being in this, this fic has NOTHING to do with The Broken Hearts Gallery. But you should all see the movie if you can, because it’s adorable!

Softly groaning, I wake up. For a moment, I feel something on my waist, and almost scream, until I realise I'm still in Nick's arms. He's still fast asleep, his chest slowly rising and falling with every breath. I smile, watching him sleep for a while. He looks so content...so peaceful. Is this what it's like to get a proper nights sleep? But as soon as that thought crosses my mind, another replaces it. I didn't have a nightmare last night...did I? I had a proper nights sleep too. Frowning, I wiggle out of Nick's arms, trying not to wake him. Once I've done that, I roll over to where the clock beside my bed reads 7:47am. Oh my god. I slept FULLY through the night for one of the first and only times in my life. I sit for a few moments, trying to decipher what it was that helped me sleep so well. Is it because I’ve been drinking less wine? Or is it because I’ve been eating healthier recently? 

“You idiot.” I tell myself. “You know why you slept well, and he’s sleeping right beside you.” Nick grunts, and shifts a little in his sleep. Looking back down at him. I smile again. He's beautiful. And he likes me. Me. Despite my anxieties, my awkwardness and well...everything else, Nick likes me just for myself. Kissing him again wouldn't be so bad. Maybe just a small cheek peck? But Nick soon starts mumbling to himself as he wakes up. As he looks around the room, his blue eyes focus on me looking down at him, and a soft chuckle escapes his lips. 

"Were you watching me sleep?" He asks, his voice husky. It takes all my willpower to not kiss him right there and then.

"...Maybe. But you looked so peaceful. Who could blame me?" Instead of replying with words, Nick leans up and kisses me again. God, if this is still a dream, I don't ever want to wake up from it. Nick sits up, and his arms go around my back as the kiss deepens.

"Good morning." He whispers once we pull apart. The look he gives me sends my heart into backflips again.

"Morning." I smile. But before we can say anything else, a knock sounds on the door.

"Y/N, are you there? I'm coming in! Just checking if you're okay after yesterday. Nick's not here, so I don't know if he-" The two of us spring apart just as Katie walks into the room. Her eyes go wide as she takes in the sight in front of her...her big sister in bed with the best man.

"Um....morning sis." I smile awkwardly, and Nick gives a small wave from beside me, trying to cover some of his body with the quilt.

"Oh. My. God."

~~~ "I need details immediately. What happened?" Katie asks, eyeing us both as she takes a bite from her toast.

"Katie, I swear we didn't...do it-" Nick begins, but she cuts him off.

"Not you, I mean Y/N." She states. My cheeks flash red.

"Well, uh...Nick came to see I was okay, as you know. And well..." I don't know why I'm so nervous. After all, Katie had said she was okay with me acting on my feelings for Nick, which I had done. And yet, I didn't want to tell her what happened. Maybe because she walked in on us, rather than us telling her ourselves. "We kissed. That's all." She raises an eyebrow.

"That's all? I found you both in bed together at 8am. I mean, you were both fully clothed, but still."

"We just shared a bed, we didn't do anything else." I tell her. I'm not sure if she believes me, but she nods anyway, before going back to munching on her toast. "Anyway. How are you feeling after yesterday? Is everything okay?" I ask. She reaches over the table and takes my hand.

"I'm feeling much better. Thank you for being there for me Y/N. And you Nick. Adam helped too of course. I think I'm starting to put it out of my mind." She smiles. "What, with the wedding and all." Suddenly, her eyes go wide, and she drops the toast onto her plate. "Oh my god. I'M GETTING MARRIED THIS WEEK!" She squeals. I can immediately sense her anxiety levels rising. "I'm...what if...we-" She begins to panic. "And there's the rehearsals and the dinner, and omg I still have to do this and-"

"Hey, hey, hey. It's okay. We're here to help. And besides, everything's ready to go, we just need to take everything over to the hotel and to the venue before the big day."

"You sure?" She asks, and I nod. Katie takes a deep breath. "You're right. I'm calm. Everything will be fine. We'll show our Dad. We'll make it a party he'll regret missing! I mean, can you believe he wanted to miss it? Idiot." A smile grows on her face, and Nick and I give each other a look, both sensing something is off.

"Uh Katie, are you sure you're okay? We can talk about it if you want." She shakes her head.

"I'm fine. Water under the bridge."

"Katie seriously, if you're still upset, we-"

"NOPE. I'm fine. How could I still be upset when I have THIS!" She waves her arms at us. "Two of my favourite people have found each other and are finally happy! Man, I love love! I love weddings!!! Best time ever. Now come on you two. We have work to do!" She announces, getting up and leaving the room, taking her plate with her.

"Uh...Is she okay?" Nick asks as we watch her go.

"I have no idea. I better keep an eye on her. I'll see you later, okay?" I ask, and he squeezes my hand for reassurance. It's going to be a long day.

~~~

"Seriously sis. I'M FINE." Katie tells me again as we load the garment bags containing our gowns into our bags. "But enough about me. What's Nick like? You know..." I gasp. "Not like that! I mean kissing wise. Was it nice?"

"Yeah, it was really nice." I answer, feeling my cheeks flushing slightly. Katie smiles.

"Maybe we'll be planning your wedding next. Will it be as awesome as mine though? We'll have to see." She winks, organising the bags. Frowning, I open my mouth to say something, but she cuts me off again. "Right, time to load these into the car. Come on sis, let's go!" She calls, picking up a load of bags and walking out of the room with them. I watch her go again. For a moment there, it almost looked like Katie's smile dropped, but she replaced it before I could say anything.

Something definitely isn't right with her.

~~~

As the day continues, and Katie and I finalise final bridal preparations, I can still sense something isn't right. But I don't want to prod her too much, so I let her go on and on about how great the wedding is going to be, and how it's going to be the best party anyone has ever been to. If she's ready to talk to me, she will.

And soon, she does. As we’re carrying boxes to the car, a centerpiece slips out of the box she is carrying, and it lands on the driveway. "I'll get it!" I call, bending down to pick it up. Before I even get back up however, I hear a sniffle from beside me.

"Just leave it. It's stupid anyway. This whole thing is stupid." I snap my head up.

"What do you mean?" I ask, rushing over to her.

"Look. There must be a reason why Dad doesn't want to come to the wedding. Even if I make it a great party, he still won't come. Maybe it's stupid." She sighs, wiping her eyes. Anger rises within me. Our Dad already made me hate myself for twenty one years, and I won't let him do the same to Katie.

"No. It's not stupid. The only reason why Dad doesn't want to come is because he expected us to welcome him back with open arms after what he did, and make him part of our family. And we didn't! He's just too proud to admit that his daughters don't care about him or what he thinks anymore."

"But...I do." She sniffs, and I pull her into a hug. "Even if he doesn't care about me."

"I'm sorry sis. But trust me. He is not worth it. He is not worth ANY of our tears. Years of therapy and trying to learn how to love myself taught me that. And look at us now! We're both happy with people we love and care about around us, and yet he can't even get his two daughters back because we know what a piece of garbage he is. He means nothing to us. If he cared a single iota about us, he would've shown up long before this. And he would have stayed for your wedding. But he didn't." Katie looks up at me, her eyes glistening.

"Maybe you're right about that..." She trails off.

"I am right. Trust me. He is not worth any of your pain. And no. Your wedding isn't stupid. Who was the one who specifically wanted a vintage shabby chic theme for your wedding, even when your planner said it is one of the most basic and popular choices?"

"Me."

"And who has constantly picked things she wanted without letting anyone else change her mind...even Caroline and the bachelorette venue? Or me and this town?" Katie sniffles, and giggles.

"Me!"

"And who's going to have a PERFECT wedding, all by herself, not giving a single fuck about whether or not her Dad is there?"

"...Me?"

"That's right! Because you and Adam picked out everything to please yourselves. Nobody else. So you don't need to worry about pleasing our Dad or making him jealous, because pleasing others is never what you wanted to do. All you ever wanted to do was celebrate your love to Adam. And you'll do exactly that. Dad or no Dad." I tell her. "And besides. I think these centerpieces are beautiful. After all. I helped make them, so I might be biased." Katie laughs again at that, this time a proper, happy laugh. It makes me smile.

"Yeah...yeah you're right. I'm sorry about that. I was probably letting what happened yesterday and my nerves get the best of me."

"It's okay. Hey. How about when we get back home, I give you the number of my therapist? You don't have to go...but maybe it'll do us both good to talk about it with a professional. It’s been really helpful for me so far."

"I'd like that."

"And until then, you know I'm always here for you right?" Katie nods, and we hug again. We both load the box into the car, and head back towards the house. I slip my arm around her waist and pull her in close. Another crisis averted. For now anyway.

"Wait, did you just say that you're in love with Nick?" Katie asks, her eyes wide.

"I said nothing of the sort." I mean, I didn't...it just slipped out. I don't even know how I feel about him. I mean, I like him, of course I do, and I want to see him again after the wedding is over. It's just...I don't know if he wants to see me again. And love is a strong word to use when we only kissed yesterday. And this morning. Still though. It's too soon. "You idiot." A little voice in my head says. "Of course he wants to see you again. He wouldn't have kissed you otherwise. He's not the kind of person to kiss someone and then just ditch them....at least I hope not."

"Look at you blush! You totally did say that!" Katie grins, pointing at my face. "Are you going to tell him?"

"No! Katie I don't even know how I feel yet, or how he feels. And besides, it's not like I have time to think about it, because we're literally leaving the day after tomorrow to go to the wedding rehearsal and the rehearsal dinner, and then we're staying in the hotel with the rest of the bridal party the night before, remember?"

"Yeah, you're right. But you should give it a think." She says, and I nod. She was right, of course. But I didn't want to think about it. I wasn't ready to consider the possibility that Nick was going to leave me, and that I'd be alone again. I already have to deal with what feels like losing my younger sister to her new family, I can't handle losing Nick too. I mean, I was happy for Katie, of course I was. What kind of monster would I be if I wasn't happy for my little sister getting married after the shit childhood we had? But it had just been the two of us for so long. We lived together for so long, spoke everyday on the phone when we were at university, and we even live about an hour away from each other by train. But now I have to come to terms with the realisation that she might not be living so close to me after she gets married. I know I can't protect her for the rest of her life, and I don't want to smother her...but actually coming to terms with that was hard. God, is this what parents feel like when their kids finally leave the nest? Cause it's shit.

~~~

That night, as I finish packing up my things to take to the hotel before the wedding, I spot a picture of Katie and I the night of her senior prom. Smiling fondly, I pick it up and sit down on my bed, looking down at the picture. There's a knock on the door.

"Come in." I call. Nick opens the door and sits beside me.

"Hey. What'cha looking at?" He asks.

"This is Katie and I the night of her senior prom." I let him look at the picture.

"Oh my god, her dress looks like a marshmallow."

"Hey! I helped her pick that out! It's a very pretty marshmallow. Even if it's bright pink and sparkly."

"Is her dress like this?" He asks.

"No! You'll see it on Friday." I sigh, looking down at the picture. "God, this feels like it was just yesterday, and now she's getting married..." I trail off as tears start to fill in my eyes. Fuck. I can't cry in front of Nick.

"Hey, are you alright?" Nick asks. He gently presses a soft kiss to the side of my head. And that is what sets my tears off. Shit. I mean, Nick has seen me at some of the worst points of my life, and still stayed beside me, but it doesn't mean that I like being so vulnerable in front of him.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I sniff, wiping my eyes. "It's just been tough, realising that she's growing up and won't be my little sister who's just across the hall from me or an hour away from me anymore. It's dumb, I know. This was always going to happen, I just never thought about it until now." Nick smiles softly.

"I understand. It's not dumb." He gently takes my hand, and I look over at him. God, how is he always SO nice? I swear it's not normal. As I look into his blue eyes, I realise that I’m not ready to say goodbye to Katie...and I’m definitely not ready to say goodbye to Nick either. I’m not ready for this change. "Maybe you should talk to her about it though. I mean, she is your sister, I'm just a friend of hers.” 

“Easier said than done." I sigh. “She’s focused on only the wedding right now, and then she’ll be away on her honeymoon early the next morning, so I don’t think I’ll have any time to.” Nick gives me a small smile, and gently rubs my arm.

"Well I hope you do get to speak to her. It sounds important.” His face lights up with remembrance. “Oh! By the way, when you get a chance, can we talk? About...this? About us?" He asks. My heart sinks. This is what I've been worrying about. I can feel my separation anxiety is about to rear its ugly head again. Maybe Nick does want to leave me after this wedding. And then Katie will be gone too, and I’ll be all alone again.

"I mean, we can try, but given that the wedding is literally in four days, it might be too hard to do that." I laugh awkwardly, hoping that he doesn’t pick up on my nervousness. Thankfully Nick chuckles. “We could, uh, talk about it now if you want?” I offer. Nick shakes his head.

“Sorry, but I can’t now. Adam needs me to help sort some stuff in like ten minutes, and then I’m booked and busy for the rest of the week.”

“Same here. But we’ll talk. I promise. You better go help Adam.” I reassure him. Smiling, Nick pecks my lips, and leaves the room. As the door closes behind him, I sigh, trying not to let my anxiety get the best of me. Nick likes me. He keeps kissing me, after all. He must like me. Right? He obviously wants to tell me he wants to see me again. At least, that’s what I hope for. Ever since I was young, I’ve wanted someone to love and to love me back. Someone who wasn’t my family. Someone who wouldn’t leave me...and even though it might be too soon, I think Nick might be that person for me.

I just hope he feels the same.

~~~

Three Days Later: The Night of the Wedding Rehearsal and the Rehearsal Dinner. One Day til the Wedding.

“THAT’S Nick?!” Brooke gasps, pointing over at where Nick is standing, talking to some other groomsmen. “He’s even more attractive in real life.”

“Yup. Isn’t he dreamy?” Katie sighs fondly. We all look over at her. “What, just cause I’m getting married tomorrow doesn’t mean I can’t have one last look. He is nice, isn’t he Y/N?” She asks, wiggling her brows which almost makes me choke on my champagne. All of the bridesmaid’s faces turn to me, some frowning at me. “Oh, didn’t she tell you that she and Nick are totally a thing now?” My mouth drops open, along with the rest of the girls. 

“That’s not true, we haven’t even spoken about-” But before I can finish, the officiant clears their throat, encouraging us to take our places for the wedding rehearsal. As Katie and I walk to the beginning of the makeshift aisle, we pass Nick on the way. 

“Hey.” He smiles, and my heart almost stops. God he’s gorgeous. He’s wearing a suit, just minus a tie. I can see part of his chest poking through his shirt. If this is how I feel seeing him now, how will I manage to see him in his full suit tomorrow? And the fact we haven’t even managed to speak about our feelings for each other yet wasn’t helping either.

“Hi.” I whisper. 

“Good luck with uh...you know. This.” He says. I raise an eyebrow. 

“With...walking?” Nick’s face flushes pink, and I hear Katie snigger from beside me.

“Y..Yeah! With walking. And heels and stuff. Don’t want you to break your ankle before tomorrow or anything.” I start giggling, and even Nick lets out a small smile. Even if it’s a bit awkward, it’s still cute, and I appreciate the sentiment.

“I’ll try. Thanks Nick. See you soon.” We both nod, and Katie and I take our positions. Katie is still giving me a look, and I frown. “What?”

“You and Nick! Look at you. It’s so obvious that you two have the hots for each other. Anyone in this room can see it. Even Adam’s parents.” Now I start blushing, and I hiss:

“Okay, we are not talking about this right now, especially not at your wedding rehearsal dinner of all places.” Katie just gives me a wink, and the two of us don’t say anything else as the bridesmaids and groomsmen start to walk down the aisle together. Soon, it’s our turn to go. As we walk down the aisle together, my eyes wander towards Nick. He’s staring at me. Why is he staring at me? God what if I do fall? Shit. Okay Y/N, think of anything BUT Nick.

Nick’s POV

“Why are you staring at her like that?” Adam whispers.

“What? I’m not staring at anyone.” I lie. Adam rolls his eyes. 

“Come on man, it’s pretty obvious.” He retorts, before turning back and walking up to receive Katie from Y/N so they can be married. Y/N smiles widely as she mimes handing her sister over to be married, and her smile makes me feel all warm inside. It’s a beautiful smile. It fits her perfectly. Y/N takes her place beside the other bridesmaids, and her gaze catches my eye again. She gives me a small smile, and I smile back. She looks stunning. She’s in a navy lace dress that hugs her figure perfectly. And I just want to rip it off of her. God, I hope she likes me back too. Even though we’ve kissed each other, I still can’t be sure. Y/N’s such a great person, and she deserves someone who can tell her that everyday. And I want to be that person for her. But before I can think of anything else, Adam and Katie suddenly cut into my thoughts:

“And then this is when we get the rings from Nick and do our vows.” Katie explains, and I nod. God, my best friend is getting married to the love of his life tomorrow and all I’m thinking about is how I want to make out with the maid of honour. I need to talk to her about my true feelings as soon as possible. The wedding rehearsal finishes up pretty quickly, but before I can talk to Y/N, she’s swept up by Katie and the rest of her bridal party who leave the room, clearly ready to go to dinner together. I sigh as Adam walks up behind me. 

“Come on loverboy. You can talk to her later.” He says. I frown, about to ask him how he knows what I’m thinking about, but he doesn’t respond, and instead gives me a knowing look. “Come on lover boy, we better go.” He orders, walking away with the rest of the groomsmen. I sigh. Hopefully he’s right, and that I can talk to Y/N soon.

~~~

A few hours later

Y/N’s POV

“So.” Vanessa begins, sipping on her wine. We have finished our dinner, and Vanessa, Sam and I are hanging out with each other. “You and Nick, huh?” She raises an eyebrow. My heart rate speeds up, and I gulp down the rest of my wine, already feeling the familiar buzz of becoming tipsy. God, I wish I brought more.

“Uh, what about us?” I frown, trying to feign innocence. Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t work. She and Sam scoff.

“He’s been staring at you for the whole night. Actually, babe, is he still looking at her?” She asks Sam. Sam’s head whips around, not subtly at all, and my cheeks flush red.

“Yup, he’s still looking.” She confirms, and goes back to sipping her beer like nothing major was going on. My cheeks now feel like they’re on fire. “Awww, young love.” She smiles. “I remember that feeling, don’t you babe?” Vanessa nods.

“Why don’t you talk to him? He obviously wants to talk to you. Either that, or he’s trying to win a staring contest.” I splutter.

“I can’t talk to him! For one, my sister is getting married tomorrow, so that takes priority, and I don’t even know if he likes me in that way, despite our kiss.” Sam and Vanessa’s eyes go wide. Now I remember why I don’t drink wine. Because I can’t shut up when I do.

“YOU KISSED?!” They gasp in unison. I quickly shush them, but they continue. “Okay, you definitely need to talk to him. Now.”

“But-”

“But nothing. Katie will understand. And don’t be silly, of course he likes you in that way.” They reassure me, gently pushing me in Nick’s direction. “And if he breaks your heart, we’ll deal with it.” They wink, giving me one last push. Why does it feel like I’m being thrown to the wolves? Nick sees me, and he smiles, relief flooding his features. My heart rate speeds up even more. He’s so beautiful. I can do this, right? I just have to go up to him and say:

“Hey, I think you’re extremely attractive, and I want to know how you feel about me, even though we’ve kissed a lot these past few days, and I was wondering if you wanted to be my boyfriend?” ....Okay no. No wonder I’ve been single this long if this is what I think classifies asking someone out. Maybe I should just talk to him? Even though it’s easier said than done. I take a deep breath, steeling myself, and start the walk over to him. It might be easier said than done, but I have to do it. 

But just as I’m about to reach him, a voice from beside me calls:

“Oh Y/N, dear!” Adam’s mother walks up to me. Oh great. Just what I need. I’ve only spent time with Adam’s mother a few times, probably less than ten times, and she was lovely all those times, but I have more important things to do. 

“Hi, it’s nice to see you again, but I actually-” I begin, before she links her arm with mine, and pulls me in the direction of some more aunts and uncles. Oh, this is not good. “Actually, I have to do some-” I start, but she cuts me off.

“I wanted to introduce you to some people. Adam’s great aunt Agnes actually has a question about tomorrow, and I thought you’d be able to help, because you and Katie have done such a wonderful job so far.” That’s nice, but I don’t know what I’m supposed to be able to fix before tomorrow. And I have more important things to do. I look back over at Nick, mouthing the word sorry to him, and he nods, but still looks disappointed. I sigh. There goes that chance to clear things up. Meanwhile, Adam’s mother is still chattering away, and hasn’t even noticed me looking at Nick, or my half assed replies or nods. Thankfully, Katie soon appears in front of us both, announcing that she needs me for important maid of honour duties. I sigh happily. Thank god. “Wait!” Adam’s mother calls before we leave. “I just wanted to say...I know you girls haven’t had a mother figure in your lives for a while, and I just wanted to say that you both have one in me. Even you Y/N. Your sister may be marrying my son, but I love you both as if you were my own. And besides, after tomorrow, we’re family!” She smiles, pulling us both into a tight hug. As she squeezes me tightly, I feel tears stinging at my eyes. Now I feel bad for trying to escape...even though it was so I could confess my love for the best man. “If either of you need anything, I’m here for you okay?” She asks, and we nod. “See you tomorrow.” Katie and I wave, and she leads me away. 

“Thanks for saving me.” I whisper. “Now, where did Nick get to?” Katie frowns.

“Nick? He and the rest of the groomsmen left to go back to the house a while ago.” My heart sinks. Dammit. “I was actually coming to get you. It’s time for us to head over to the hotel, and I gotta give you girls your presents!” She squeals excitedly. She leads me outside to a limo, and we get inside, being greeted by the others. Sam and Vanessa look at me expectantly, but I shake my head. They look disappointed, but say nothing. As the car sets off towards the hotel, everyone starts to chatter excitedly and pass around glasses of champagne, while I just stare out of the window. I know my mind should be focused on my sister, and I am excited for her, of course I am...but I just want to see Nick.

~~~ In the Hotel

“Okay, so these are your robes to wear while we’re getting ready tomorrow.” Katie explains, passing them around. “Aaaaand, there’s these too. There’s a little note in each.” She hands each of us a little gift bag. Soon, the room fills with a chorus of ‘awww’ and ‘thank you’. I reach into my bag and pull out a bracelet with a little heart charm. My initials are engraved into the charm. “Read the note.” Katie tells me, and I open it.

“Dear Y/N, aka the best big sister in the world. I just wanted to say thank you for everything you’ve ever done, and continue to do for me. I know I say this to you a lot, but it’s true. I hope to one day repay the kindness you’ve shown me over the years. You’ve been the only person who has supported and loved me throughout our lives. Even though I may not be able to see you as often as usual, I’ll always be there for you. You’ve been the one constant in my life, and our bond is unbreakable. I’m not going anywhere any time soon, and I’m not letting you go either!

Lots and lots of love,

Katie xxx

P.S. Ask Nick out. Please. He won’t shut up about you and to be honest it’s getting annoying.”

With tears stinging my eyes, I immediately pull Katie into a huge hug, which she returns, squeezing me tightly. “I love you so much.” She whispers, as we both start crying in each others arms, and the other girls comfort us as best they can. I was worrying for nothing. Katie was right: our bond is unbreakable, regardless of where we live, and who we’re with. 

Whatever happens, she’ll always be my sister, and my best friend.

~~~

The Next Day: Wedding Day.

Small lines of sunlight come through the windows and into the room. The room is silent, aside from a few snores and the occasional mumbling as the girls turn in their sleep. Soon however, the peace is shattered with an excited squeal.

“I’M GETTING MARRIED TODAY!”

[nyxdelanuit]

Please Let Me Take You Ch 1

Here is the start of my BakugouxReaderxKirishima fic!

Warning: NSFW, Cheating, Mentions of Injuries, Drinking

Summary:

You were the fiancee of one of the Top Five Heroes- Bakugou Katsuki. Like all things, he was passionately devoted to your relationship as long as it didn't get in the way of his hero work. And hero work is why he hasn't been home in days, why you only see him for quick, kinda uncomfortable sex every once in a while, and why you aren't able to move closer to a place that has a job in your field. Yeah, that has to be it. He's just a really good hero. Like your best friend Ochako's husband... who is home every night doting on his pregnant wife...

No matter, you won't be that clingy girlfriend. It was just a settling-in phase. You'll just grin and bear it, and it will all work out, right?

Until then, maybe you could make a few more friends while you waited for Katsuki to come home.

A03 PLMTY MASTERLIST

It was another night of watching him on your television. How high and mighty he looked, snapping at the reporters huddled around him. Although he sounded angry, the pride and haughty tone he held said differently. You muted the report, unwilling to listen to him talk down to his pandering masses any longer. It wasn’t a surprise, he had warned you from the first date that his work took preference. What you didn’t expect was how you now felt like a guest in your own home.

You felt like you were barely there, existing. Melting into the decorations-none of which were yours. You had moved in with Katsuki Bakugou six months ago, although you had been together for almost five years. Your head rested on your hand as you glanced over your living room, sparse and designer. It looked more like a showroom than anything. Why wouldn’t it, no one was ever home to live in it. A glint of red caught your eye, prompting you to look at the extravagant ring nestled on your finger, sharp points tugging on your skin.

He proposed a few months ago in this very living room, not that many people even knew you existed. You were a blank face in the eyes of the public, “Ground Zero’s Fiancee.” No name, no pictures, just sparse mentions every few months when some cocky reporter decided to dig into Katsuki’s personal life. You would be a liability if people knew who you were, he said, and like always you gritted your teeth and nodded along. It was all part of the package for dating a hero and not being one yourself. You wondered if he would even make it home tonight.

Maybe you were being too harsh on him, but it was hard not to think about how different your life was now compared to when you first met him.

You were 23 when you met him, in a new town, working towards a new degree. You didn’t have time for anything besides your studies. No new friends, no new hobbies, just your head stuck in a book. You were skimming over the material you needed for the day’s classes as you stumbled off of the train and onto the sidewalks. He had been out of his hero costume, but people still moved out of his way as he strolled along. Except you, too busy to notice.

You ran headfirst into his chest but he didn’t budge. You simply looked up with a glower, straightening out any papers that bent during your collision. With usual Katsuki grace, he scoffed down at you.

“Most normal people apologize when they run into someone.” You sneered at the boy, causing his eyes to widen. The two of you would bicker for the next ten minutes until you noticed the time and ran off, not even dignifying the angry boy with an explanation. You had, however, left without some of your documents.

It was a lucky break for him that the papers you left had been for a resume. Your name, phone number, and address were printed neatly in the corner. That’s how he found you that night, waiting outside your apartment building as you drug yourself in from a long day. You remembered his smirk as he talked to you.

“You really don’t know who I am, do you?” You shook your head.

“Why, are you supposed to be famous?” He let out a bark of a laugh.

”Let me treat you to dinner and I’ll let you know.” An answer wasn’t expected, he had already turned to walk off, motioning for you to follow.

The following years were filled with precious memories. If they hadn’t been, you think you would have already left. Every time you thought of leaving, you remembered the times Katsuki would show up in the middle of the night. Sometimes he just wanted to be next to you, laying on your chest with your hands in his hair. Other times he came still bleeding from a recent attack. You lost count of how many nights you had sat on the edge of your bathtub stitching shut the gashes and cleaning the scrapes. Even the seldom times he introduced you to his friends were precious memories for you. You don’t know how you could have survived this relationship without the unwavering support of Mina and Ochako. Even Kaminari had grown on you in time. What would you do without them now?

All you had was a cold, empty house, a degree that was little more than another frame on the wall, and fewer friends than you could count on one hand.

You turned your attention back to the television. Katsuki wouldn’t be home any time soon if the attack you were watching was live. This meant you had two options: Sit at home to wait diligently for your fiance to return and hope he doesn’t crash at the office, or leave and do something with yourself. The choice seemed easy to you now, the house seemed to be closing in on you. Your fingers flew over your phone screen, sending a swift message before you flew out the front door.

Ochako opened her door at your first knock. She tried enthusiastically to hug you, but it was pretty difficult for her to maneuver around her distended stomach. Katsuki didn’t necessarily like you being so close to Mrs. Midoriya, but she was one of the few people you could talk to candidly about your life with the pro-hero. He liked it even less after her pregnancy announcement, complaining that it was only another thing Midoriya had beaten him to. You honestly thought the whole rivalry was a bit one-sided and childish, but he wouldn’t hear of it.

Of course, after learning that and being recently engaged, Katsuki had convinced you that the two of you should try. You weren’t sure if you were happy that he hadn’t been home at the right time for you to fall pregnant or not. Just another drop in the bucket of things that hadn’t been going right.

You shook yourself from your thoughts, you came here with the intent to leave your thoughts of Katsuki at home. Ochako deserved more than to be your emotional dumping ground, even if the two of you would end up speaking on it eventually. You let yourself be ushered into Ochako’s home, curling up on your regular spot on the couch while Ochako brought you tea. You knew that Ochako needed these moments as much as you did, she wasn’t taking her long maternity leave very well.

“So, Y/N, what brings you to my humble abode today?” She had a grin hidden behind her teacup as she sipped. You sighed, tangling your free hand into your hair and letting your head rest in your palm.

“The usual, I’m tired of sitting at home when I know Katsuki won’t be home half the night.” You blew a piece of hair from your face. “Plus I figured my favorite momma-to-be could use a little distraction.” You smirked right back at her, joining in on her good-natured chuckle. The two of you often commiserated on feeling like useless dolls, sitting at home and looking pretty until their big strong men came home. You, from the lack of a job close enough to commute to in your field, and Ochako from her forced vacation. If the worry for her unborn child wasn’t in the equation, you were sure she’d still be out in the field working rescue missions.

Alas, one of the things that Katsuki and Izuku shared was their unwavering stubbornness when it came to their girls. God knows how many times you had tried to convince Katsuki that moving to a slightly less affluent neighborhood would only increase his commute by a few minutes, but open plenty of doors for you career-wise. At least Ochako’s issue had a time limit.

“So how much longer until you pop?” Ochako rolled her eyes, you had a habit of comparing her to a balloon since you had first met. You had wondered if she lost control of her quirk if she would just float up into the atmosphere, joining all the lost balloons tumbling in the wind. Izuku had gone quite pale at your ramblings, and it took her a few weeks to calm him after.

Her hand roamed her stomach, stopping if she felt the pressure of a small hand or foot pressing up against the heat of her hand. “It shouldn’t be much longer now, probably a month or so.” She had a sweet smile on her face, and you were sure that motherhood would agree with her, “Izuku finished the nursery a few days ago, just in case I go early. Knowing him though, I think our baby will stay cooped up as long as they can.” You giggled in response, thinking back fondly on the days you spent here when Izuku had the day off. Ochako could barely get him out of bed before noon, and he would wander the house wrapped in a quilt for a few hours after. It was always a stark contrast to his energy when he was out in public, and you wondered how he would fare when his late mornings were interrupted by their child’s cries. At least he would be there. You wondered if Katsuki would return home more often if you were pregnant…

Ochako had placed her hand on yours, squeezing softly. You had talked with her before about this and you had no want or energy to talk about it again. “Wanna get dinner?” You said instead. She nodded her head, giving you a soft smile before shuffling to her feet. You waited at the door for your friend, allowing her time to get herself ready around her bump.

The plus side of having pro-hero friends were being able to get into fancy restaurants or hero-specific clubs. With a flash of her hero’s license, or more likely just by her status, and you two could be shuffled into a private room or exclusive bar. Ochako complained about not being able to wander around to smaller mom and pop shops anymore, but you much preferred this to the few times you had been ambushed by her or Katsuki’s fans.

This was one of the more low-key places Ochako favored. Instead of full private rooms, the booth had a sheer curtain separating you from the main area. Plus it had copious amounts of baked goods and Ochako’s sweet tooth had not been tempered by her pregnancy. She always seemed to glow when she bit into a particularly good danish or Mille crepe. You had let her take over the conversation, naturally swaying towards her growing excitement and impatience to have her child. Although you weren’t sure if or when you’d be okay with having a kid with Katsuki, you were overjoyed for your friend. Plus you were damned determined to be the best auntie to her kid, that was at least one thing you could do.

Ochako’s phone chimed as she was alternating between munching on a raspberry danish and debating if snaps or zippers were better on onesies. You had no idea. She glanced at her phone quickly, shoving the remainder of the treat into her mouth. You stifled a giggle, the raspberry filling had smeared across her cheek in her hastiness. “C’mon, Y/N, we’ve got plans.” Her eyes lit up with excitement. You let yourself be pulled from the booth, but quickly stopped Ochako to clean off her face.

“Alright, what’s the plan?” You huffed as the crisp fall air hit your face. “I just got a message from Mina, she wants to meet up tonight.” You perked up a bit at that, it was never a bad night with Mina around. Plus Mina was bound to be out much later than Ochako.

The club Mina sent you was a bit farther from home than you went on your own. You always wanted to be nearby in case Katsuki came home, but you couldn’t find yourself caring tonight. Ochako led you to a discreet door, manned by an aloof looking guy dressed in dark, muted colors. Ochako flashed her hero license and he nodded sharply, grabbing the door. She grabbed your hand, tugging you along after her, and you released a breath when the security guy only looked you over instead of stopping you.

There were a lot of familiar faces in the small club. It was getting pretty dark outside, and the night scene was starting to come alive. If you hadn’t been with Katsuki for so long, you may have been a little starstruck at the heroes walking around casually. You were a little desensitized, dating one of the top five and being besties with another’s wife. Ochako had wandered to the bar, ordering herself a kiddie cocktail to make herself feel included. You had found this extremely adorable, watching her fidget with the cocktail umbrella. You hadn’t gotten a word out to the bartender before you were nearly bowled over by an inebriated Kaminari.

“Y/N~” he whined, nuzzling his head into your chest. “We missed you, you never come out.” He came to his senses momentarily, removing himself from you and scanning the crowd for an angry blonde coming at him. Once he was content that Bakugou wouldn’t show up out of the crowd and set off an explosion in his face, he returned to your chest with a satisfied sigh. “Oh, Minari… never change. Actually, please do.” You chuckled, extracting yourself from his grasp. Mina and Sero followed soon after, much more sober than their friend. Mina gently pushed Kaminari away.

“Come on, you horndog. You’re taking my spot.” Her serious facade faded as she jumped to you, repeating Kaminari’s actions and burying her face in your chest. You wrapped your arms around Mina while Kaminari pouted. He flung himself onto Sero’s shoulder.

“How are we supposed to get any cute girls when Mina keeps stealing them?” He looked up to his friend for support but Sero just shrugged.

“I think Bakugou had dibs on this one before Mina.” He grinned widely. You were starting to feel more like yourself surrounded by these idiots you called friends. Going out was definitely the right choice tonight. You squirmed in Mina’s hold, getting her arms around your waist as you finally ordered from the bar. You took your drink with a quick thanks and sipped slowly as Mina dragged you to their table. Kaminari had already abandoned the group, looking to sway some new hero into his bed. As usual, you doubted he would convince anyone.

A few drinks later and your group had a good collective buzz. Kaminari was still going hard out on the floor, desperately trying to get anyone to dance with him. Ochako lived vicariously through her friends as she babied her virgin drink. The drinks were finally loosening you up to complain about your current predicament, and Mina was encouraging you to no end.

“That douchenozzle!” She keened, “If you were my girl, I’d have you on my arm at all times, and I’d come home every night.” She leaned over the table licking her bottom lip slowly. You laughed off her bold attempt at flirting, knowing that she would never take you from her friend. Although at this point, her offer did seem a bit enticing. Sero was little help with commiseration.

“I mean, it’s Bakugou. We were all really surprised he even had a girlfriend.” He shrugged. Ochako nodded along sadly. You shrugged in return.

“Enough about my problems, why don’t you guys reminisce about high school so I can hear more embarrassing stories.” You waved them off, taking a long swig of your drink.

Ochako called it a night after a few stories. You offered to return with her, but she insisted you stay.

“I’m pregnant, not disabled. I can get home just fine.” You pouted at her, still not sure if you should stay.

“You sure?” She nodded, smiling back at you.

“You need to get out like this. And I need to go to bed. It’s tiring growing a whole person.” She giggled again, and you walked her to the door. After a quick hug, you watched her settle into her car before rejoining your friends. It seems that Kaminari had finally given up the chase, instead choosing to lay his head upon the table, half-awake. You came up and ran a hand through his hair, enjoying the way the static made it cling to your hand.

You would never have been able to do this if Katsuki was here. You had been starting to wonder if you were actually happy with Katsuki, even outside the issues with his hero work. You would have to think about it another time when you weren’t on the verge of being drunk.

Now that Ochako had left, Mina had no qualms about dragging your group to the dance floor. Another drink had you in the right mood to lose yourself to the bass. It felt like time had both stopped and went by so quickly. The small club was packed with heroes and their friends, bodies pressed up against each other. You had lost sight of your friends, but you weren’t too concerned. Mina had ways to find you if she needed to.

You felt arms encircle your waist, a feather-light touch. It must not have been Kaminari or Mina, because this person was letting you move from their touch if you wished. You felt a little rebellious and let them keep their hands there. They swayed with you to the music, not invading your space any further. You turned around in their grasp, meeting bright red eyes. It threw you off for a second, but you recovered quickly. You quickly motioned to the bar and made a drink motion, mouthing sorry. You wormed your way from the crowd, catching your breath as you made your way to the bar.

Another drink in your hand, you sat at the table. You took a hearty sip, not knowing when the next time you were going to be able to enjoy a night out was. Might as well enjoy it to your fullest.

The clearing of someone’s throat was the only warning you had before the guy from the dancefloor seated himself across from you. He smiled brightly at you, looking a little nervous.

“Sorry if I scared you back there. You just looked like you were having fun and I’m kind of new around here.” You quickly set your drink down, waving your hand at him.

“Oh no, it’s totally okay.” Poor dude, of course, had no idea what was going through your head tonight. You had a chance to take a good look at him now, and the red eyes were the only thing he shared with Katsuki. His hair was black and fell to his shoulders. Choppy bangs hung down to his nose, almost entirely obscuring his eyes from your view. His grin was sharp, and you wondered if he had some sort of shark quirk. He pushed the hair back from his right side, showing his glowing red eye and a thin scar trailing through his eyebrow.

“Kirishima Eijirou.” He introduced himself, sticking a hand out to you. You returned the gesture and gave him your name. He twisted your hand gently in his grip, showing off the heavy ring- still a bit too gaudy for your taste. “Looks like you have a lucky guy on your hands.” He grinned at you, letting your hand go. “I hope he doesn’t mind that I danced with you.” The way he rubbed his neck reminded you briefly of Kaminari.

“Oh no, it’s fine- I mean he is a hothead- but he’s not here.” You were babbling over your words. “An innocent mistake, I’m sure. I won’t tell if you won’t.” His smile widened and he nodded. “So, uh, you’re new around here?” He hummed in affirmation.

“Yeah, I’m just getting back into the hero scene. I had to take some time off.” You nodded politely.

“I really think that more heroes should take more time off for themselves and their families.” You hadn’t meant for that to sound so bitter, but Kirishima just laughed.

“Not a hero then?” You shook your head meekly.

“My quirk is barely worth mentioning.” You shrugged.

“Well, it wasn’t exactly my choice to take a break.” You leaned in closer, not expecting your bitter tone to be mirrored back at you. He noticed you are interested and let out a defeated chuckle. “I got too full of myself for my own good. It was right at the start of my hero career, straight out of high school.” You sipped on your drink, enthralled in the story already. “I had picked an agency with my best friend. Well, he was my best friend at least, I’m not sure he even considered me a friend at that point. Anyways, he’s got a real bad temper, set off by everything. We were on our first big job as sidekicks, not really ready for it if I’m honest. We end up losing the guy we were following. He goes berserk, scaring all the civilians around us- and get this- the guy we lost? Wasn’t as far as we thought. Now he knows heroes are tailing him and it’s turning into an all-out brawl. The guy had a lot more people on his side than we thought, and we were only supposed to be doing recon. This guy was just a pawn in a larger operation, and now it would take months to track down the main branch. This only sets off my friend more. Sure, we get the guy we were tailing, but there was no way we could have restrained all of the others that had run. So he’s still going off, and I’m trying to be a bro. I was known by our friends as the only one that was able to handle him. And then I go put my hand on his shoulder. Should have been ready, but he threw a hook at me, quirk and all…” His hand goes to his hair, pushing it back. You couldn’t hold back your gasp.

Stretching across the bridge of his nose, across his left eye and disappearing behind his ear stretched a scar. You could tell it was old and well healed. The hair of his eyebrow had grown back, and the skin didn’t look too rough, but it was pale white in comparison to his tanned skin. The edges near his eyebrow and nose seemed a little rough, and some points looked like they pulled at his skin, but you also noticed how piercing it made his eyes. You had downed your drink during his story, and your inhibitions were clearly nonexistent as you reached to touch his face. He looked shocked as your palm cradled his cheek and your thumb swept over the skin under his eye.

“Sorry, I… don’t know why I did that.” You laughed, pulling your hand back. His eyes softened and he smiled at you. He cleared his throat again.

“Anyways, I got lucky. We had a lot of good healing quirks at our disposal, but I still lost some sight and most of my hearing on my left side. Took a long time to be ready to protect people again.” You were awestruck by his tenacity. “Now I’m back, trying to get in touch with some friends from high school. I heard some of them may hang out around here.” You looked around, although you weren’t sure who exactly you were looking for until someone called your name. Sero was at the door, dragging a barely conscious Kaminari along. Mina was walking towards you but paused as she eyed the person across from you.

“Kiri?” She said softly, and he pushed his hair back in front of his scar.

“Hey, Mina.” He smiled sadly. Her eyes flicked to you and back to him. With your back to him, you weren’t able to see the pleading look he gave your friend. She seemed to acquiesce to his silent plea.

You were oblivious and excited. “Mina is your friend? That’s a crazy coincidence! She invited me here tonight.” You definitely felt that last drink now.

“Y-yeah, babe, sure is.” Mina stumbled over her words, her eyes never leaving Kirishima. “I can’t believe you’re back. Really… I… I’m glad to see you.” You had never heard her this soft. You wrapped your arms around her waist, still sitting down. She absentmindedly stroked your hair. “Um, listen, I want to catch up, I do… but if we don’t go Kaminari’s probably going to throw up in the Uber. Again.” She seemed to snap back to herself, digging through her purse for her phone. She punched in the code and quickly slid it across the table, prompting you to do the same.

If he was their friend, he was yours too. Kirishima nodded softly, quickly putting his number into both phones and handing them back. You quickly sent a text with your name, grinning as the phone in his pocket chimed.

“We should hang out soon!” You cheered as Mina led you out. It was hard for her to stop looking back at him.

Kaminari was already passed out by the time you reached the Uber. Mina squeezed in the back with the two boys, letting you have the passenger’s seat. You let the gentle rumbling lull you into a half-awake state. You could hear Mina speaking in low tones with Sero in the back. With a quick look into the rearview mirror, you saw Sero’s arms wrapped tightly around Mina, tears staining both of their faces.

You were about to speak up, but they were whispering to each other again, smiles on both of their faces.

You stumbled into your house, throwing a wave at the retreating taxi. You fumbled your key into the lock, quickly opening the door and resetting the alarm. Stupid Katsuki and his stupid security system. You were sobering up too fast for your liking, your buzz being replaced with bone-deep exhaustion.

You kicked your shoes off, walking straight to your bedroom. All you were up for doing was crawling straight into bed, clothes and all. You buried into the pillows and blankets, smelling only the laundry detergent. At least you’ll sleep well.

You thought. You awoke to arms snaking around your middle, causing you to uncomfortably arch on your side. Calloused hands groped at your chest.

“I’m home, baby girl.” Katsuki’s gruff voice was in your ear. You weren’t sure if you were happy or annoyed, but you were willing to fake it until you made it.

“Welcome home, Katsuki.” You mumbled into the pillows. His mouth latched onto your neck, finally drawing a reaction out of you. Katsuki’s rough hands slid under your shirt and bra, roughly tweaking your nipples. You grimaced, grateful you were facing away from your fiance. It’s like he couldn’t get it through his head, they weren’t an On switch, and it never felt good to be that rough right off the bat. Not like he cared much, it was about all the foreplay you would get.

Katsuki was already moving to tear your pants off of you, rubbing harshly at your clothed core before removing your panties as well. He guided you up onto your knees, rubbing himself between your lips before plunging in unforgivingly. The stretch stung, and he drug dryly at your walls. A few thrusts and you felt yourself relaxing and getting a bit more wet to accommodate him. He thrust deeply, hitting so deeply it hurt. You gasped in pain, but he took it as a cue for more. He pounded himself quickly into you, rutting you into the headboard. It was no longer uncomfortable, but you also felt no pleasure.

He finished inside you quickly. Pulling out, he gathered all that dripped with his fingers, shoving it back inside your warmth. A hangnail caught roughly inside you, making you wince. Katsuki placed a lazy kiss on your cheek before facing away from you. You knew he would be asleep before you got back from the bathroom.

The bathroom light stung your eyes, swollen with lack of sleep. You felt sticky and unsatisfied and hungover. The shower was a tempting offer, the bath even more so, but you opted for the quickest option. You drug the cold washcloth over yourself, wiping away all of Kastuki’s mess. You were a mess, shirt and bra still on, naked below the waist, makeup still on your face. With a sigh, you stripped the day’s clothes from you, wandering back to your room to throw on some cotton shorts and a loose tee.

It was rare for you to wake up with Katsuki still in bed. He rolled over and spooned you on the bed. With the morning sun and Katsuki warming you, the morning almost seemed bearable. Katsuki started to leave lingering kisses between your shoulders, following the curve of your shoulder blade. You hummed happily, basking in his affection and the gentle morning warmth.

“’ M sorry I was so rough last night. Needed you so bad. I know you can take it.” You rolled your eyes but accepted it none the less. Half asleep Katsuki was the only one you could get an apology out of, half-assed or not. You watched as he slid off the bed, stretching out. His sweatpants hung dangerously low on his hips, and you let yourself drink him in.

“’ M gonna go make food.” He grumbled, leaning over the bed to place a kiss on your lips. You watched as he made his way out of the room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Maybe things weren’t as bad as you had made them out to be.

[dhwty-writes]

I've had 'Just give me a reason' by pink stuck in my head all day lol, I humbly offer it as a song prompt if it sparks anything :D

“If it sparks anything”... Fam, I just astralprojected back to 2013 and my first kiss! I had a lot of fun with it (although I got a bit distracted midway through, I’m sorry!)

I also couldn’t decide whether I wanted to do a post-mountain fix-it fic or a modern AU, so you’ll get both! Here’s the angsty one (that’s way longer than expected) :)

Read on AO3

The unfairness of it all as he staggered down the steep mountainside was overwhelming. Twenty years of his life for... what exactly? For nothing at all!

Over half of his measly human life he'd spent trailing after that grumpy... horse's arse of a witcher. He poured his heart and soul into a song cycle just to change Geralt's undeserved horrible reputation! (And to get rich, of course, but that was neither here nor there.) By rights he should claim ten percent of Geralt's income, but did he? No, of course not!

He'd never asked anything in return. Nothing but company, a friend, a tiny bit of affection even. Not love, of course. He might be delusional and a hopeless romantic, but not that much of an imbecile.

He knew Geralt loved Yennefer and that the affection was mutual. It was pretty much obvious for about anyone who saw them together. And Jaskier wasn't just anyone. He and the witcher shared just about anything — food, coin, clothes, beds sometimes, when it was cold or there was only one room left. And, though the witcher denied that fervently, Geralt talked in his sleep sometimes.

Jaskier had discovered that one freezing night in a tavern in Kovir, when he'd woken up because he was uncomfortably warm. Additionally, to the heap of quilted blankets they laid under, Geralt had draped himself over him, too, clutching him tight against his chest. 'Cute,' Jaskier had thought, 'Geralt's a cuddler.'

But then he had started talking, and it had been torture of the most exquisite kind. Most of his ramblings were unintelligible, but those he could understand were unbearably sweet. "Don't go," Geralt would say whenever Jaskier tried to move away. Or "C'mere" and tug him closer to his chest. There were plenty of "Y'smell good"s and, on one memorable occasion an "I love you". None of them were meant for him, of course. But, oh, how he wanted them to be.

Jaskier had fallen for Geralt the moment he'd spotted him in that tavern, grumpily nursing his tankard of ale. He'd been absolutely smitten as soon as they walked free from Filavandrel and Geralt smiled at his "Respect doesn't make history" nonsense, thinking he wouldn't see. They had travelled together for the better part of a month, before destiny had parted them again. At an inn at the crossroads Jaskier had stolen a pretty lad's virginity and Geralt had ridden off into the sunset, not knowing he had stolen Jaskier's heart in turn. 'Good old days.'

Only that they weren't good anymore. Jaskier heaved a sigh that sounded more like a sob than anything else. What had previously been a rose-and-gold-coloured fantasy of a memory, seemed now rather dull, truth be told.

After a few weeks going their separate way, Jaskier had heard of a witcher near Hagge and gone to seek him out. They had travelled again, on and off. Most of the time it had been him, who had actively looked for Geralt, tracking down rumours about white-haired monster hunters. But not always.

Right before the whole child surprise ordeal, it had been him performing in a tavern and Geralt barrelling inside, interrupting him mid-song. "Jaskier!" the witcher had shouted. "There you are. I've got a contract, come with me?"

Or that other time in early fall. He'd gotten himself a comfortable place for the winter in the home of some noble lady, who he'd been entertaining with music, poems and other uses of his silver tongue alike, when one early evening a servant knocked on their door, quite adamantly insisting there was a visitor for the troubadour. His host had been none too pleased when he'd gotten up and dressed to greet a witcher of all people. "What the fuck were you thinking, bard," Geralt had growled, "not showing up all summer. I thought you were dead."

All in all, Jaskier had thought that his affection was, at least to some extent, reciprocated. And now this.

After twenty years the moment he'd dreaded had finally come. Twenty years of lavishing Geralt with love. Geralt, the person who'd been told he couldn't feel, mustn't feel. Twenty years of shouting his adoration to the heavens, to finally be told that it was unwanted.

To borrow Geralt's words: "Fuck." He needed a drink.

~*~

Geralt of Rivia was an idiot and he knew it. The revelation had dawned on him almost instantly after his foolish outbreak. Well, not entirely instantly. He had a feeling, at the very least, although he hadn't expected the bard to take his words literally. 

He hadn't been able to get rid of him with his gruff exterior before, so he hadn't thought he would now. The realisation that Jaskier was truly gone dawned on him, when he reached the base of the mountain a few days later and the bard was nowhere to be found.

Roach was still there, as were Geralt's bags. Their content wasn't. After twenty years of carrying frivolous outfits, chewed-on quills tattered notebooks that smelled of lavender, they were uncomfortably light.

"Fuck," Geralt said quietly. He didn't know why, but some part of him had hoped to find Jaskier there. 'Where he belongs,' his brain supplied unhelpfully. He frowned deeply, trying to rid himself of that thought. Jaskier wasn't some kind of possession to be owned.

But when he settled down for the night that evening, the forest devoid of any melodic chattering, of joyful laughter, of life, he knew it was true. Jaskier might not belong to him, he mused as he crawled into his bedroll. 'But he belongs to my side all the same.'

Somewhere along the twenty years of companionship — gods, was it truly twenty years? It was nothing for him, but such a long time for humans, who aged so fast — Jaskier had managed to firmly worm himself under Geralt's skin, to the point where there was something missing now that he was truly gone.

Geralt slept terribly that night. When the sun rose the next morning, he set out on another hunt. Not for a monster, that time, but the best thing destiny had ever given to him, that he had chased away with his brashness.

The scavenger hunt led him halfway across the continent, until he stumbled into another tavern on the coast of Temeria. Jaskier's trail hadn't been too hard to follow. Apparently, his friend had been fucking and drinking his way through three kingdoms.

And the bard looked as if he was doing a good job of adding a fourth one. He was more than just a little tipsy, sitting rather than standing on the stage. An agonised look passed over his face when he saw Geralt. He wanted to rush over and pull him into a hug, but then Jaskier started singing and the witcher was just frozen in place. It was the most heart-wrenching ballad yet. It took him only about three lines to realise who it was about. 'Fuck,' he thought.

All his instincts told him to flee. He wasn't prepared for this. He couldn't do this. But Jaskier had seen him already. No getting out of it now.

So, he shouldered his way through the crowd Jaskier always attracted and tried to hide in some secluded corner of the tavern. It took incredibly long for the bard to finally finish his set, and even then he made no attempt to seek Geralt out. Instead, he languidly leaned onto the bar, flirting with the barmaid behind it.

He barely suppressed a growl. 'Fine,' he thought and got up to confront his mistakes. He slammed his tankard down next to Jaskier, scaring the barmaid off in the process. "Jaskier," he greeted him.

"Oh, great," he sneered in response. "There goes my bed for the night."

"Hmm," he answered and ducked his head. "I'm sorry."

"What, for chasing off my newest conquest? I fucking hope you are!"

"No, Jaskier," he answered honenstly. "I'm sorry for what I said to you."

"Hmph, you need to do a lot better than that," he said and reached over the bar for a bottle of strong-smelling liquor. He poured himself a glass and knocked it back. Without pause he continued: "Because you know what? I'm fucking angry, Geralt."

"Do we have to do this here?" he hissed. They were attracting glares. Never a good thing for a witcher.

"No," Jaskier admitted and stood up. Bottle in hand he walked towards the stairs. "You're paying for the room."

"Sure," he grumbled and flagged down the innkeep. By the time he had managed to acquire a key, Jaskier had already dragged himself upstairs and drained a good portion of the bottle.

Geralt snorted and unlocked the door, but didn't comment on it. "What I've been trying to say-" he began, and was promptly interrupted:

"How about trying to shut up?" Jaskier hissed and kicked the door shut. "How about trying to listen to me after twenty fucking years?!"

"Jaskier, what I said-"

"This isn't about what you said! Don't you understand? What you said is only the tip of the figurative dragon mountain. I thought you actually liked me! I thought we were friends."

'Shit,' Geralt thought and ground his teeth. "Hmm."

Jaskier laughed hoarsely. "Oh, great. That same old story again. Why am I even bothering...?" He drank straight from the bottle, swaying a bit on his feet.

"You're drunk," he tried to say as neutrally as possible.

"And you're shutting me out again," he countered. Neither of them were wrong.

"I don't know what to say," Geralt tried.

Jaskier wasn't impressed: "Evidently." He made no attempt to follow that up with anything.

After a few moments of silence, Geralt realised that it was his turn to try and fix this mess with words of all things. "I can't sleep," he tried. "Not since you left."

"Poor you," Jaskier mocked cruelly. "I can't either."

"I can't sleep without you," he tried again. "It's cold. I'm dreaming. And when I wake up I'm alone. Roach is a horrible conversationalist and my camps are too big."

Jaskier put the bottle down slowly, gaping at him.

"I walked the path for decades without you and it was fine. It's not anymore. I can't do it any longer. And I guess... I guess I was scared." The words weren't any less intimidating once he'd finally said them. "You said I talk in my sleep?"

"You do."

"I don't. It's been beaten out of me in Kaer Morhen."

"So?"

He closed his eyes as tightly as he could. It was stupid, he knew. Childish, even. But he couldn't look at Jaskier for this. "So, I meant it. Every word of it."

No reaction.

"Please, Jaskier, I need you to forgive me."

"Give me one reason and I just might." He could hear him come closer. "Say it," he demanded. "Look me in the eye and say it."

It took him every ounce of his discipline to open his eyes and look at Jaskier, barely two feet away from him. "I love you," he said quietly.

"Louder."

"I love you. I've loved you for years, and it scared me, so I couldn't let you know. Witchers aren't supposed to be scared, and that scared me even more, and-"

The rest of his words was silenced by Jaskier's lips. The bard practically leapt at him, snaking his arms around his neck and pulling him close. "You're an idiot," he said when he pulled away. "A fool, a nitwit, an absolute imbecile. The stupidest man alive!"

"I am," he agreed, looping his arms around his waist.

"Why, oh why, do I have to love you of all people?"

"You love me?"

He laughed a teary laugh. "I do, I do. For years and years. How didn't you notice?"

"Because I'm a fool," Geralt said and kissed him again. He just couldn't resist.

"I'm still angry," Jaskier informed him.

"That's alright. But you don't hate me?"

"Far from it."

"And when I wake up on the morrow, you'll be there?"

"Yes," Jaskier promised with another kiss.

Geralt couldn't help but grin. "Good."

[miraculousmarifan]

Felinette Month - Day 1: Purrito

So this is my first time writing something that wasn’t academic or work documentation in probably at least 5 years and it’s definitely my first fan fic so please bear with the rough writing. And the potential out of character-ness of this. I wasn’t even planning to write for this but after reading a few of the ones by @fandomsilhouette, I felt too inspired not to try!

Fingers crossed that this burst of inspiration last long enough for me to finish the prompts on @felinettenovember!

This is based loosely on a fan fic I read a while back (if I remembered who wrote it, I’d completely tag them here but I don’t even remember the name now)

Chat!Felix and reveal

Around 1500 words and most certainly fluff

Marinette hummed as she put together the tray of cheese pastries and tea for her anticipated visitor. She loved the decision to make a schedule for patrol to clear up some time in her and Chat’s busy schedules. Under this, she had three days every week that she didn’t need to worry about sneaking out and one day that they could meet up from patrol to hang out and work on finding Hawkmoth. Additionally it resulted in a standing visit with her masked friend once a week, with her parents’ approval after the Weredad akuma brought it to their attention under the condition of homework still getting done, of course.

Once upstairs, Marinette worked on tidying up her room a little from her projects, as the scrap pile from her ongoing projects could be a little distracting and she preferred to have those in acceptable condition for smaller projects. Maybe she could make a nice patchwork quilt for Felix as a get-well present, since he seemed to be coming down with something. A cold or maybe the flu? He definitely seemed flushed and less alert than usual, seeming to space out while looking at her throughout the day. 

As she sat down with the pieces, arranging and rearranging to find the most appealing look that Felix may approve of, a thump sounded from the balcony and the clatter of a chair falling. Quickly pushing the fabrics out of sight, Marinette climbed up and opened the door to peer out at Chat. He was still laying on the ground with a bright red face, visibly sweaty skin, and eyes shut.

“Oh! You look terrible Chat! Did something happen on your patrol?” Marinette rushed over to help him up slowly and stopped when she noticed the shiver running through him and the quick breaths. She felt his forehead, pushing his more disheveled than usual hair out of the way. His eyes slowly opened and a weak grin crossed his face.

“Hiya Princess. You look nice today. Is your hair down?” His hand reached up and batted at the closest pigtail. Her hair was definitely still in it’s pigtails, albeit a little longer than they were when these visits first started. That’s not a good sign…

“Let’s get you inside and out of the cold. Are you sick? Why didn’t you go home right away after patrol if you’re sick? Or better yet, why not call Ladybug and ask her to cover this patrol so you could rest up?” He mumbled incoherently and leaned heavily on her as she helped him climb into her room. The moment he was near the chaise, he collapsed heavily on it.

Marinette rushed to grab blankets and a pillow to make him comfortable, chastising him about the importance of taking care of his health and assuring him that Ladybug certainly felt the same way, despite his denials of being sick. With some coaxing, she managed to get him to sit up so she could wrap the biggest blanket she owned around his shoulders. She moved to grab another blanket and pillow and he let himself fall down again, rolling off the chaise onto the floor.

“Oh Chat! Let me help you back up! I’m sure you’d be much cozier than on the floor!” I’m sure my parents are wondering what is happening at this point. Hopefully they help me take care of him when they’re done prepping for tomorrow, at least enough that he can make it home.

“Nnnngh,” and curled up tighter in the blanket, burying his face into the spot where the carpet and the top edge of the blanket met. With a resigned sigh, Marinette went to the bathroom to find a thermometer and to see what kinds of medicine they had. At least if it’s only a cold, she might be able to give him something to help him through the night. Coming back into the room, she chuckled at the sight of him curled up tightly, like a little purrito.

“Chat, you need to get up and take this so you feel better soon. I have some tea that you can take it with, if you’d like,” Marinette cooed, trying to sound as much like her mother as possible, as she walked towards the nearly forgotten tray with medicine in hand.

“I don’t want to! I want to cuddle,” Chat protested and pulled the blanket closer in, somehow curling up even more and acting more like a petulant child throwing a tantrum with each passing minute. Marinette brought the tray over, setting it near the chaise, grabbing another blanket, and knelt down by his side.

“I tell you what, if you sit up and take your medicine like a good boy, I’ll give you this extra blanket and let you pick which pillow you want to use,” she bribed, hoping that the time babysitting Manon had taught her the right skill for this kind of situation. With this offer on the table, Chat managed to sit up slowly, his eyes looking more glazed over than when he had arrived. Marinette handed him the tea, grown cold by this point, and the correct dosage of cold medicine, to prevent him from accidentally taking too much.

He quickly took both without further protests and then a goofy grin broke out. “I want you to be my pillow!” His arms wrapped around Marinette and tried to curl himself up on her lap. The contact made her blush a bit and she tried to pull back.

“You’re such a flirt! What happened to being in love with Ladybug?” she joked nervously. After readjusting so he was just leaning on her shoulder, instead of across her lap, she used one hand to drape the second blanket over him. At least this way I can tell he isn’t too cold. 

“I only flirt with you and Ladybug. I can’t help that if I didn’t have this curse, you’d be my first choice,” he murmured, seeming to be drifting back to sleep already. Marinette was stunned into silence. Did this mean Chat likes her? How did things change so much just from hanging out? With how out of it he seems, is he going to remember this conversation later? Are things going to be different the next time I see him?

For a few minutes she spiraled, thinking of every possible thing that could change, speculating whether this would affect how she treated him as Ladybug (try as she might to avoid letting these nights slip into her superhero life), and how different this might have been if she didn’t have a crush on Felix. Soon he startled her out of her thoughts with a jolt, as he sat up and started thrashing wildly at the blankets and pulling at his suit.

“Ack! Too hot! Stupid suit! Plagg, claws in!”

A flash of light and silence. Marinette clamped her hands over her eyes as quickly as she could with her brain already running on delay.

“Mmmmmmm. Much better,” he mumbled, before Marinette felt his head resting on her leg, arms wrapping around her waist, and body resting on her lap. She kept her hands over her eyes and freaked out internally. How am I supposed to talk him into transforming back?

“What are you doing kid?! You can’t do that here! Nobody is supposed to know your identity! I hate to say it but you need to transform back so Ladybug doesn’t get upset with you!” Plagg fumed. Marinette felt him try to pull on Chat’s arms

“You’re so warm,” Chat purred out, ignoring Plagg’s badgering, “Why don’t we do this more often, Princess? This would be perfect during movie nights.”

I need to do something. I can’t stay like this forever!

“Chat, why don’t you transform back and just take one of the blankets off? Wouldn’t that be better?” Marinette kept her eyes clamped together, moving her hands slowly down to where she thought his shoulder was and felt for the blankets. Apparently he hadn’t pulled them back up before curling up on her so it was just his shirt. Feeling utterly surreal, she noted that the sleeve’s fabric felt like the high quality fabrics she had to save up to buy for bigger, fancier projects.

“Noooooo. This is what I want. This is too nice to give up!” he protested, twisting his body up first to bury his face into her side, then shake it dramatically. A ticklish jolt ran through her body and she opened her eyes without thinking, pushing him back to stop him.

“Felix?!” Marinette gasped. Felix just smiled and continued trying to cuddle back up to her.

Just then Marinette’s parents knocked on the door downstairs and asked if they could come in. If her brain hadn’t come to a halt, she might’ve had a joke about their impeccable timing.

[edna-skiffens]

Calm in the Storm - 3.1K

Calm in the Storm / Harrison Osterfield

Summary: You’re terrified of storms and your friendly neighbor, Harrison, comes over to help you stay calm.

Word Count: 3.1K

Warnings: fluff, sarcasm and cuteness, storms is guess

A/N: This is an excerpt from a fic I’m working on but may never finish. Ha. (But if it ever does get finished then act surprised when it reappears, possibly slightly different.) LMK if you like it and would be interested in a slow burn, college AU fic. :)

Another crack of thunder roared in the skies, sending a shiver down my spine and a scream from my lips. Call me a wimp if you want. I hate storms. Capital ‘H’ Hate them.

What makes this situation even worse is it being late at night and the meteorologist saying that it won’t let up for hours. The wind is howling, the eerie sound of the flood warning is going off and they tell us of trees down on numerous roads. Apparently half the county is out of power, but thankfully we still hav-

With a flicker of light I’m plunged into darkness, wishing I could’ve knocked on wood sooner.

I think I might have screamed again. I’m not even sure. I just know that I really don’t appreciate Mother Nature tonight.

There’s a rapid knock at my door which evokes the third scream from my lungs this evening; I’m going to lose my voice.

I creep my way to the door, careful to not give away my presence in case it’s a serial killer. They are the only ones out in this weather, right? I mean, that’s what the movies make you believe.

I shouldn’t answer. I’ll just wait here until they go away and they’ll never know someone was in here. But what if it’s someone lost in the storm? I can’t leave them out there. But that’s probably what the serial killer wants me to think.

The knocking starts again, causing me to jump and cover my mouth so my squeal won’t give away my position.

“Y/N, open up. It’s Harrison.”

Harrison? Why doesn’t he go to his own apartment upstairs? At least it’s not a serial killer. God, I hope.

I open the door to see a soaked and slightly irritated Harrison, flashlight in hand. “What took you so long? I knocked twice.” He huffed as he brushed past me and inside the dark apartment. “God, don’t you own any candles. You know the power is out?” I’m starting to regret letting him in as he blabbers on, but I answer anyway.

“Yes, I obviously know the power is out. I haven’t had time to gather any candles.” I answer while fiddling with the flashlight on my phone to find any element of light I could use. “And I was scared,” I admitted in a much softer tone and volume, “I had to make sure you weren’t a serial killer.”

His laugh makes me jump much like the thunder had. “Are you serious? You thought I was a serial killer?”

“Well not you, you. But it could have been a serial killer at my door. It’s storming something horrible outside, that’s how it always happens!” I try to rationalize my thinking.

“God, Y/N. You do realize you don’t live in a Lifetime movie.” He laughs with a much lighter tone. I just roll my eyes, realizing that any other response will result in an endless cycle of teasing at this rate.

“Why are you here any way?”

“Well, I heard your screaming from my apartment and wanted to make sure you were okay.” My heart swoons for a moment, until he continues his thought. “I mean, I had to come protect you from all the serial killers out in this storm..” I whack him with my arm as he cackles, resembling something of a demented monkey.

“Very funny. I don’t like storms, okay?”

“But why?”

“I don’t know? Why are you so funny looking?”

Great comeback. One for the books.

He only rolled his eyes, sensing that I wasn’t in the mood. And we both knew that I was lying because he was far from funny looking.

“Well don’t be scared. You’re safe with me.” He smiled at me in the dim light and we stared for a moment before he continued. “Okay, okay. Let me see what I can do to help.” He said while hanging up his raincoat and walking away, flashlight in hand.

I found all the candles I owned and the two battery powered lamps. I gathered them together in my living room when Harrison joined me.

“I called the power company. They said the better parts of three whole counties are out of power and the storm isn’t even over yet.”

I let out something between a groan and a whine, not caring how much of a child I was acting like. “What does that mean?”

“It means it could be awhile before we get power back, maybe even all night.” He gave me a soft smile before continuing “We best buckle down.”

Every time a particularly loud clap of thunder roared I couldn’t help but jump. I felt so tense. It was growing increasingly annoying and I think Harrison even picked up on it because he stopped teasing me about my fear of storms.

“Let’s do something to distract you.”

“What?”

“Clearly, you’re terrified. Why? I don’t understand. But still, you are so let’s do something.”

“Well what would you suggest? We don’t have power, we don’t have a great source of light, we-“

“Have a bundle of pessimism from the lovely lady on the right.” He mocked in an overdone voice.

I rolled my eyes, trying to reign in my sass before apologizing. “What would you suggest?” I could tell he didn’t actually have a plan by the way that his eyes scanned my apartment, but they suddenly stopped signaling a thought.

“Go and gather all of your blankets and sheets and quilts for me.”

“Harrison.”

“Just do it.”

I decided to just listen to him and collect his requests, letting the focus of the tasks distract me from the storm. When I re-entered the living room he had chairs and barstools from my kitchen placed in a sporadic pattern. Seeing my puzzled face, he turned to me with a smile.

“We’re making a blanket fort!”

“Oh my gosh.” I deadpanned. 

“What? What could you possibly have against a blanket fort?”

“Nothing. I used to make them all the time when I was little.”

“So what’s so bad?”

“I made them when I was little.”

“Well what’s wrong with being young every now and then?”

“I mean, I don’t know.” I replied after a moment of thought.

“Exactly. Now put those down and help me move the candles. If we burn this place down it’ll be a much bigger mess tomorrow.” He laughs and I find myself laughing too.

“Speaking of mess, you’re helping me clean this up in the morning.” Without realizing it, I think I just insinuated that he was staying the night. Or did I? He could leave then simply come back in the morning. Stop overthinking everything, Y/N. We’ll cross that bridge when we get there, I guess.

“Aye, Aye, Captain.”

We spent some time working on the fort, the storm never dying down, but my fear of it moved to the back of my mind with a new focus on creating a masterpiece.

Per Harrison’s suggestion, we hung the larger sheets from my ceiling fan. He had to stand on my stools to reach them while I provided light and was ready incase he fell.

“How am I supposed to catch you if you fall? I feel like we would both get hurt in that situation.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’d never hurt you.” He looked down with a wink. “Plus. I’m not going to fall.”

“Oh really? You’re that confident huh?”

“No. Well.. yes, but I mean I’m done.” He turns around narrowly on the stool and smiles widely.

He hopped down and surveyed the area before we agreed on connecting the sheets to the taller bar stools and two, currently useless, floor lamps. The kitchen chairs were then used to bring the sheets up just high enough for us to comfortably sit up in. 

“Hey, can you grab something to anchor these sheets? They keep slipping off the chairs.”

“Yeah. One second.” Grabbing a flashlight as a guide I searched for things I thought would be useful before returning to Harrison. “Okay I brought some books that could be weights for the sheets. More ponytail holders to tie them together because we are running low. And some fairy lights from my bookshelf.” I smiled proudly, “I forgot they were battery powered.”

“Great.” I handed him the books and he stopped to observe them in the dim lighting. “Of Mice and Men, The Grapes of Wrath, Great Expectations, A Tale of Two Cities, The Complete Works of Shakespeare?” 

“Yes?” He looked up at me with a tilted gaze before shaking his head with a smile.

“Nothing.”

“No. What.”

“You’re always holed up in your apartment reading or studying. Which is fine. But it’s okay to have some adventures outside of these pages, you know.”

“What’s the point in that when I could be working towards my future?”

“To have fun.”

“I have fun. I have my own fun.”

“I have no doubts about that, sweetheart. I’m just saying you don’t know what you’re missing. If you’d let yourself loose every once in a while you’d discover there is a lot more than your type of fun.”

“I don’t like to waste my time. But, the power is out and reading in the dark gives me a headache and it’s scary outside so.. Here we are.”

“Here we are.”

We got to work finishing the fort. I grabbed soft blankets and pillows for cushion support on the floor. Harrison draped the fairy lights across the top for ambiance. We brought the two battery powered lanterns I had into the corners for light, too wise to bring a candle inside all of this fabric. We made ourselves comfortable with snacks and battery powered flashlights, leaning back against the pillows, taking in our work of art.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’d say this is a pretty great creation.”

“Oh? Are you a blanket fort aficionado?”

“Maybe I am and I kept that from you. Would that hurt your feelings?”

I took a second to pretend I was pondering the thought, “No.”

His laugh brought a smile to my face involuntarily. Before I knew it I was laughing with him. As the contagious laughter died down another crack of thunder shook the building, erasing my smile immediately.

Harrison must’ve noticed. He simply raised his flashlight against the blanket roof and started making figures with his hands, coming up with elaborate stories for each character. I wanted to act mature and roll my eyes at another childish gesture, but he had my giggling and I couldn’t help notice his smile as well. 

When his story time ended I gave him an applause that led into a moment of silence before another loud crack of thunder. It seemed to be getting worse outside. I rolled onto my stomach, hiding my face in the pillow, trying to escape somewhere calm..

Suddenly, there was a noise repeatedly slamming against the front of my apartment. I jumped again with wide eyes, into a type of plank position as if I was ready to army crawl away from whatever was out there making this noise. “What. Is that?”

“Relax.” Harrison placed a hand on my back attempting to soothe me, “I’m pretty sure it’s your porch swing slamming against the building. The wind must be picking up. Here, I’ll take care of it.”

He crawled over me to exit the fort before I heard my front door open and shut. A moment later I hear him enter again, muttering a few curses under his breath.

“Thank you. What did you do?”

“I unhooked one of the chains so its resting slanted on the ground.”

“Oh. Well that seemed to work. Thank you.” I smiled sheepishly, taking in his wet clothes. The wind could be heard whistling outside and my mind was back on the storm. If he got that drenched from under the awning it must really be coming down out there. Another roll of thunder shook the apartment, tensing my body. “So if you have any ideas for how to stop the thunder I’m all ears.”

“I think you need another distraction, neighbor.”

“Okay, well we’ve made the fort and watched your shadow puppet show. Now what?”

He sat thoughtfully for a moment, trying to come up with something in the days of television and internet. “Is your computer charged?”

“It should be. I keep it plugged in. We don’t have internet though.”

“That’s fine. Go grab your laptop and your favorite DVD.” I grabbed my phone, turned on the flashlight and left to collect the few items in mind. 

“I noticed you got kind of wet outside so I thought you might want to borrow this sweatshirt to stay warm.”

“Oh thanks.” I handed him the oversized sweatshirt from our school and opened my laptop, smiling because it was at 100% battery. “What’d you pick?” glancing back at him I noticed he was mid-change and his abs were literally shining from the rainwater and lamplight. Oh my. Attempting to focus back on his question, I didn’t say any words, only smiling as I showed him the cover of the DVD case to Beauty and the Beast, animated version. “Really?”

“It’s only the best movie ever.”

“Oh is it now?”

“Well that or Tangled. Hard to choose.”

“Who knew that Miss Y/L/N was a Disney fanatic?”

“Who isn’t?”

“Well, okay. I said you could pick.” I let out a tiny shrill of excitement while placing the DVD in the player and got situated on my stomach. Harrison followed suit, though I’m not sure if he was as excited. 

Throughout the movie I held in my desire to sing along, but I couldn’t hold back my adoration and wonder throughout the movie. It doesn’t matter how many times I see the same movie, it never gets old.

“I see why you like this” He spoke up during the scene where Beast showed Belle his library. I loved this part.

“How so?”

“You’re like Belle in many ways. You’re such a bookworm.”

“Oh.”

“I mean, other ways too. I don’t know. I just see it.”

I smiled to myself taking in the compliment; at least I took it as a compliment. “Thank you.”

Somewhere towards the end of the movie I felt myself grow drowsy and made myself more comfortable. I didn’t expect myself to fall asleep, but I must have because when I woke up sometime later Harrison was still wide awake and watching Tangled.

“Well this is a sight to see.” I spoke through the grogginess of sleep, clearly surprising him.

I glanced at the screen to see it was the scene where Repunzel and Flynn Ryder entered the festival in the village; my favorite.

“I like this movie.”

“I like Flynn Ryder.”

“It reminds me of us.” Harrison seemed to be continuing his statement. I looked away from the two dancing on screen to give him a drowsy, yet puzzling look.

“How so?”

“She’s been in her tower her whole life. He helps her break out and takes her on these wild adventures. She’s a little nervous, though she knows deep down it’s what she wants to do. She finally experiences the world. And they have fun.” And fall in love. “You don’t see the parallels?”

“Uhm, now that you mention it, I guess I do.”

We watched the rest of the movie in mostly silence until it ended with my laptop warning of low battery. Harrison closed it and pushed it away as I tried to keep my eyes open.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For tonight. For distracting me. For the fun. For the porch swing. For everything.”

He simply smiled while settling in, himself. “Of course.”

This time I knew I was drifting into sleep, but I welcomed it.

When I woke up my eyes stayed closed. I felt someone’s fingers gently brushing the side of my face, moving my hair behind my ear. I faked sleep a few moments longer, enjoying Harrison’s touch before I let my eyes slowly flutter open and feeling his hand pull away.

“Good morning.” He greeted me.

“Morning.”

“It seems as though the storm has stopped. I think we are going to live.” He smiled. “Just some light rain to deal with today.”

I smiled back at him, the effects of sleep fading from me slowly. “Thank you.”

“You already thanked me last night.”

“I know, but I felt like doing it again.”

“Well, you’re welcome again.”

We sat in silence for a few moments and I tried to fight off the sweet thoughts of sleep that were luring me back in. Suddenly the news could be heard on the television, the lights shined above our heads and little noises could be heard everywhere.

“Looks like the power is back.” He enthused.

“Looks like it. I guess we should get to cleaning this up.” 

Harrison made no effort to move but let out a chuckle instead.

“What?”

“It's okay to lay here for a bit.”

“I know. But I need to charge my phone and-”

“And the world can wait.”

“Yeah but I didn’t get anything done last night so I should really-”

“I am sure it’ll get done.”

“But-”

“But nothing. It’s okay to take a minute for yourself. The world isn’t burning down outside. Well.. actually I haven’t looked since last night. Maybe we should check.”

“Haz!”

“I’m kidding! My point is it’s okay to relax or to have fun. Enjoy others’ company.”

I gave him a small smile and settled back into our makeshift bed on the ground. The television, lights and rumblings faded away along with the thoughts of any responsibility.

“You don’t have to be so responsible all the time.”

“I just want to be productive with my time.”

To that he responded with a light chuckle. When I gave him a puzzled look he answered, “You know, you are scared of thunderstorms, you love Disney movies, I finally convinced you to build a blanket fort with me, but you still try to act so mature. I see you, Y/N. You don’t have to keep up the act. I told you, you’ll always be safe with me.”

We laid there for a little while longer until we decided to finally clean up the place. He left soon after and the guilt of wasted time rushed in. I decided to charge my phone and laptop while throwing out all the now-spoiled food. I heard my phone alert me with a text message, shortly after it turned on.

Harrison:

Look what I found. Just for you.

My heart fluttered at the sweet sentiment and the thoughtful picture. Maybe some storms aren’t so bad after all.

----------

A/N: Let me know what you think! :) And follow if you liked it.. I’m new but have a lot more planned.

[transandor]

7 17 20 28

7) Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

lord almighty. give me a moment.

okay, i'm not going to put the snippet itself, but this fic in particular was very... well. and i think my favorite part is the quilt part, near the end. i desperately wanted to try and grasp the feeling of what it's like to find something you've had and been attached to since you were a kid, and i wanted to bring the ache of nostalgia, and the relief it brings you even if it hurts. i kinda just.. poured my own personal feelings about my quilt, into that part, and i really hope it came across. i dunno. the whole fic meant a lot, to me, a fic about coming home to something you thought you would never be able to go back to again.

17) Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

start to finish. whenever i do write something out of order, it is so unlikely it'll ever be properly finished. i'm currently doing that with one of my fics and that's... well. i'm hoping it goes a way it edoesn't usually go because i really want this to go well, i will be very honest.

20) Describe your perfect writing conditions.

i... don't really have perfect conditions? my motivation and ability to create wavers constantly. i used to be able to write like it was nothing when i was in the middle of class, actually, but it was never anything relevant. whatever gets me writing is perfect in that moment, lmao.

28) Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

oh, hell, this is gonna be rough and difficult, i. oogh.

okay, i'm literally just gonna go off the top of my head here, but-

so there's chrysalizzm, very specifically, their young god series. it's a dsmp fix it fic, dream centric, with WONDERFUL amounts of worldbulding and beautiful prose. the latest chapter of the sequel (second to last) made me absolutely sob, in such a wonderful way. i highly, highly recommend it- everything is just so perfectly written and it aches, it's something i strive towards.

there's caydiink, and all of their works- ooghohg. dream-centric. (i have a pattern, as you can see.) i think what got me hooked was probably their parental figures series, because the first one was about dream and phil and at the time i was super fucking phil and dream oriented and it made me so happy. i like reading about like... the hurt, i guess. i'm off the shits don't look me in the eye.

and uhhh. uh. fuck it! a newer one to the roster, but trulymightypotato (and by extension for wtec, theparadoxicalfox)- one of the only people i trust to write jordan at this point. it's difficult to find decent characterizations of jordan that are tied to the smp, a lot of people will kinda just... put him in to have him there, or to kill him off, but not here, and i am so fucking appreciative of that.

[twittytelly]

An Unexpected Gain

Chapter Four - Once Upon a Time

Colin Shea X Female Reader

Previously…

Series Masterlist

A/N: So this is the end of the main story, but not the end of the road. I am planning on writing a little epilogue, plus once I get it off my old laptop I'm going to edit my first first draft of chapter 3 and turn it into another side chapter. I just want to thank you all so much for your feedback on this story, it really means the world to me – I will definitely be writing more Colin stories alongside fic for some of Chris' other pre-Cap roles in the future. Also this chapter would probably not exist without @southerngracela​ read this to see why.

Warnings: Sexual references, swearing, bleeding in pregnancy, miscarriage scare.

Mood board by@imanuglywombat​

Colin didn't sleep that night, paralysed by the guilt that had flooded his veins. He was desperate to find a way to make things better, to make things right. He knew that things could not go back to how they were before, but he didn't mind. Deep down he had always wanted the traditional rituals, pumpkin carving, Easter egg hunts and Christmas tree decorating; but he figured that being raised by his father, who's only method of father-son bonding was to bring him along to a stakeout coupled with his selfish nature meant that fatherhood was not for him.

The blinding sun that invaded through the crack in the curtains informed Colin that morning had arrived. Forcing himself out of bed, he had a new resolve. Colin figured that he may have blown his chance with you, but he could never forgive himself for fucking up his chance with his kid. Besides, you deserved far better than he could ever give you.

-

Things had gotten better between yourself and Colin in the weeks following the showdown in the hallway. While that night was not mentioned again, Colin had gone above and beyond to show that he wanted to be as involved in your pregnancy as possible. The day after the confrontation, you had arrived home from work to find a big bouquet of your favourite flowers alongside a hamper full of crackers, hard boiled sweets, and all the ginger flavoured snacks and drinks available with a note saying:

If none of this works or you get a weird craving, let me know. I'm at your beck and call. C xx

But that was just the start of it. Colin seemed to have obtained every baby book in Boston, and then set up a shared iCalendar so he could be there for every appointment. There was also the extensive research he'd done into midwives, antenatal classes and even hypnobirthing. Not a day went by without Colin sharing a link to a baby product, stating that he would have to buy most things for himself to keep at his place anyway – as much as that stung you were pleased that he was prepared to step up for the sake of the baby.

You were trying your best to overcome your feelings for Colin, but his actions had caused the opposite to happen. How could you not be in love with your handsome neighbour who rubbed your back as you vomited and looked at you as if you were most amazing person on the planet; who would always get you whatever you were craving after a gig, even if it meant going out of his way; who you could talk to about anything and everything, from absolute nonsense to your deepest fears about motherhood?

-

Colin was tearing his apartment apart looking for the right cable for his amp. Band practice may have only been taking place on the roof, but he didn't want to make his bandmates wait around. While he was rooting around his desk, he knocked his mouse, causing his computer monitor to come to life and your face lit up the screen. Colin remembered snapping that moment months ago, when you found him alone on the rooftop after one of your dates had gone wrong. You had weasled Colin into playing one of your favourite songs and began dancing in the moonlight. Colin recalled how he had to capture the look of pure unadulterated joy on your face as you swayed in the glow of the city. Colin could still hear you giggling as you raced down the stairs to his apartment and he realised then that he was done for. He didn't fuck you that night: for the first time in Colin's life, he had made love.

Colin was so lost in his thoughts that he almost didn't hear the frantic banging on the door. He looked away from his computer and sighed.

“Hang on I'll be up in a s-”

“Colin I'm bleeding!”

-

Colin would never remember how he had gotten you both to the hospital, but he could never forget the tension that filled the air as you sat in the waiting room in the maternity ward. Colin was trying his best to stay calm for your sake, but his insides were still twisting and turning. His heart shattered as he felt you tremble in his arms. He did his best to soothe you by delicately running his hand along your back, your face buried in his shoulder. If Colin had his way he would pull you onto his lap, however he knew that now more than ever he had to respect your boundaries. Colin noticed his shoulder moisten as your trembles turned into sobs, he tightened his arms around you and placed a chaste kiss to your temple.

“Hey, hey you're gonna be okay” He said desperate to comfort you. “Whatever happens, I'm here.” You hands tightened on his plaid shirt as you looked up into his eyes. In that moment, Colin swore that he would do anything to take away the fear that was in your eyes and used his thumb to wipe away the tears on your puffy cheeks.

“I'm just so scared Colin.” You said in a voice barely above a whisper. Colin leant down to place another kiss on your forehead.

“I know sweetheart, me too.” Colin confessed. Colin opened his mouth to say something else, but before the words could come out your name was called out. Once again your destiny was calling you, except this time you were hoping with every fibre of your being that pregnancy would be the result. Colin rose from his seat and turned to you holding out his hand.

“I promise that we're in this together.”

-

Once you had heard your baby's heartbeat, it was explained that it was likely a sub-chorionic bleed and you were still likely to have an healthy pregnancy. As the nurse explained that you needed to take it easy for a few days, you couldn't help but zone into Colin's demeanour. As your twelve week scan was still a couple of weeks away this was Colin's first scan. When you saw the look on his face as he heard his child's heartbeat for the first time, you knew that no matter how abnormal this whole situation was; you could not be happier that you were doing this with Colin.

You felt that you should have been excited or at least relieved, but you were numb and exhausted. As you climbed into the passenger seat of Colin's van, you barely registered him speaking to you; luckily he didn't press you for an answer and he began to drive. Instinctively you placed your hand on your belly, where your warm hand brushed against the strip of skin that was exposed after your top had ridden up slightly.

You were still preoccupied when Colin made an unannounced stop and so you didn't notice that he had gotten out of the van until he was getting back in. He passed you a warm paper bag that smelled of fries. As the engine came back to life you noticed the excitement was rolling off Colin in waves and for the first time in what felt like decades a small smile crept across your face.

Soon enough you were outside your apartment block, where Colin escorted you inside with one arm slung protectively around your shoulders. Once you were inside and settled on the sofa, Colin retreated to the kitchen, but within seconds was back and handing you a plate of your exact order from one of your favourite burger places. Without saying a word, you inhaled your meal like a lioness devouring her prey. You noticed Colin sit beside you as closely as possible and you both ate in silence.

You couldn't help but think of the parallels between now and that night a few weeks ago; especially as Colin was there for you in the exact same way. It was as if he intuitively knew what you needed. You knew that the pair of you were committed to having this baby as friends, but you couldn't help but feel that he was acting more like a boyfriend. You knew that once the stupor had worn off you had to bring it all up again.

When you both had finished eating, Colin took the empty plates into the kitchen. As he returned you noticed that the excitement had evolved into nerves as he tried to calculate his next move. He stood to the side of the sofa and fidgeted about, until you stood up and made your way to him. Taking your hand in his, you looked up into his beautiful blue eyes.

“I don't think I can sleep if I'm here on my own, please can you stay until I drop off?”

“Of course I will sweetheart,” Colin answered. “You know I'd do anything for you.”

Once again he let you lead him into your bedroom, but Colin looked away as you kicked off your trainers and socks. Not bothering with your pyjamas, you shimmed out of your jeans and bra. As he heard rustle of your quilt Colin lay on the bed beside you, staying above the duvet.

“Sorry for being such a misery guts, I know I should be more excit-”

“Don't be silly Y/N.” Said Colin sympathetically. “God knows you've been through the ringer tonight, of course you're exhausted.”

You nodded gratefully. “I know this may sound a bit silly, but could you just – I don't know – tell me a story or something – I need to take my mind of tonight for a bit.” Colin gave you a thoughtful look, before kissing you on the forehead again.

“I know just the tale.” He said jokingly as you made yourself comfortable and closed your eyes.

“Once upon a time, just down the corridor lived a jester. The jester was handsome, smart and sexy as hell.”

You did your best to suppress the snort that broke free, of course Colin would use the opportunity to talk about himself.

“The jester was a gifted musician, who would often use his talents to enchant a wench back to his chambers: where he would demonstrate his other mind-blowing capabilities.”

“Colin if you're gonna use this as an excuse to brag about your sexual escapades then I'd rather be alone.” You said in faux annoyance.

“Of course not and if you stop interrupting me, you'll see this is an epic love story.”

Sighing, you indicated to Colin that he was free to continue.

“One day the most fair and beautiful maiden moved in opposite the jester. The jester tried with all of his might, but the maiden was immune to the jester's charms; for she dreamed of being swept off her feet by a handsome prince and the jester believed that true love was not his fate.”

You opened your eyes and looked at Colin as he was staring at the wall. Was he talking about you? A past conquest? Some made up fantasy woman? As Colin turned to look at you, you quickly closed your eyes and hoped he didn't catch you staring.

“The maiden found many suitors, but they did not appreciate the maiden's beauty and kind nature. One fateful night, the jester saved the maiden from the clutches of a troll disguised as a prince. The maiden thanked the jester by letting him spend a magical night in her chambers.”

Your heart started to pound against your ribcage. Yes, he was talking about you, but why? What was Colin trying to achieve?

“The next day the jester promised to help the maiden find her true love and would satisfy her needs in the mean time. However, as the jester spent more time with the maiden, he began to enjoy her companionship and as the weeks turned to months the jester realised that he had fallen in love with the her.”

Your breath hitched in your throat and your heart skipped a beat. Colin was in love. With you... But when? How? Why the fuck didn't he say anything?! You noticed that Colin's breathing had changed and as his fingertips tentatively brushed your across your face to move a stray hair, you opened your eyes to see the azure of his eyes looking right back at you with the boldness to take down a dragon. Before you had the chance to say anything, Colin continued to speak.

“The jester knew that he was not good enough for the maiden and believed that once she had found her prince charming he would have to do whatever it took in order for her to be happy.”

“Colin I-”

“Sh!” Colin interrupted, pressing his index finger to your lips. The story isn't over yet sweetheart.” You decided not to argue to see where Colin was trying to go. As Colin removed his finger, he took a deep breath.

“One day the jester decided to visit the maiden to find that she was most upset. The jester did his best to comfort the maiden, but he found something that did not belong to him... something that... I assumed that it wasn't mine.”

You sat up, your heartbeat accelerating. “Colin wh-”

“The week before, you brought home that James guy home.”

“He missed the last train home and I offered him the couch, but he tried to get into bed with me so I kicked him out. Anyway Colin I was six weeks along when I found out.” You explained as you tried to figure out if you were angry or hurt. “You were the only person I was sleeping with for a while. Colin we could have been together weeks ago, why didn't you say anything?”

“Because I'm not the guy girls want to end up with, I'm just the slutty neighbour. All everyone wants from me is a second round in the morning.”

“Yeah and you proved that when-” you started feeling more agitated.

“If I could take that back then I would!” Colin almost snapped, hurt filling his eyes. Colin went to look away, but you reached out and put your hand on his cheek, forcing him to keep eye contact. “Y/N don't forget that you hid from your feelings for as long as I did. You deserve to be swept off your feet and to ride off into happily ever after with your prince charming, and that's not me.”

“Listen here, Jester.” you said as your thumb stroked Colin's cheek. “I don't want that bullshit. I want Once Upon a Time with you; the guy who never fails to make me laugh, who filled his cupboards with the exact brand of ginger tea that I like, who always comes to my rescue when I need him most.”

Colin's eyes widened like a child on Christmas morning as you leaned in closer and dropped your voice to a whisper.

“Also don't tell the little one, but the sex is pretty mind-blowin-”

Before you had a chance to finish, you felt Colin's soft lips on yours. Bedsheets were shoved to one side as arms wrapped around each of your bodies, pulling you both as close to each other as possible. You deepened the kiss, allowing Colin's tongue entrance, where you both tried to disclose the feelings that words could not define. Eventually, the kiss came to an end, and you both parted for air. Resting your head on his shoulder, you watched as Colin hesitantly placed his hand on your belly. There was no bump yet, but you couldn't help the goosebumps that appeared as Colin stroked your stomach. Colin looked up, with the biggest grin you could ever imagine, excited for what the future had in store.

“I love you Y/N.” Beaming back at him, you replied simply with the only four words needed.

“I love you too.”

-

Taglist: @whiskey-cokenfanfic @mrs-captain-evans @ransomsweatersandcappuccinos @southerngracela @katiew1973 @supersoldiersruined-me @kelbabyblue @amiquette @feelmyroarrrr @patzammit @daydreamerinadazedworld @denisemarieangelina @jeremyrennermakesmesmile​ @bellaireland1981

[middleearthmama]

Finally decided to start posting my old fics here, and finally figuring out how to do it! This was my very first fanfic ever. 

Rating: Explicit

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: M/M

Fandoms: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies) Relationships: Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Bilbo Baggins & Thorin Oakenshield Characters: Bilbo Baggins Thorin Oakenshield Additional Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Anal Sex, Top Bilbo, Bottom Thorin, Awkward Bilbo Baggins, Smitten Bilbo, Hair-pulling, Don’t copy to another site Language: English

The knock at the door rendered the whole room silent. The unlikely band of merry drinking dwarves simply froze, which was amazing, considering the unholy racket they had been making since they arrived. The hobbit huffed impatiently at the thought of adding another boisterous voice to the rabble. He was muttering about “filthy carpets” and “ghastly manners” as he flung his front door open for what he hoped would be the final time that evening.

Bilbo's jaw dropped as he took in the gorgeous dwarf standing in his doorway. He was not prepared for the clear, brooding eyes as blue as sapphires, the mane of thick, wavy black hair, and the solid, muscular stance of the creature at his door.

It took a few moments, as Bilbo was gawking, for him to realize the dwarf before him was glaring at him. Brows furrowed, sapphire eyes full of mistrust and doubt, lips turned down in a scowl. Gandalf introduced the stranger at his door as Thorin Oakenshield, however, Bilbo wasn't sure what else was said as he was caught in a daze.

Remembering his manners, and realizing he had been staring unabashedly at his guest for a full minute, Bilbo shook his head quickly to clear the cobwebs. He stepped aside to welcome the dwarf into his home.

Bilbo closed the door and took a tentative step towards the newest addition to his guests. The dwarf scrutinized him, slowly circling with a bemused look on his face. “So this is the hobbit.”

* * * * *

Several hours later, Bilbo had sufficiently embarrassed himself more times than he cared to count. He found himself helpless to his wandering eyes that always seemed to seek out Thorin, ogling him until someone inevitably would see and give him a knowing smirk. He also found himself suddenly unable to complete a full sentence in the dwarf king's presence, his tongue feeling clumsy in his own mouth, his brain unable to process the simplest of thoughts.

Thankfully, before he could succumb to his inevitable death by shame, the hobbit found himself nestled beneath his quilt. He lay awake, staring at his closed bedroom door, unable to sleep. His mind was overrun with heated thoughts of clear blue eyes, rippling muscles, and thick ebony hair. What did Thorin look like under all those layers? Was there more of that dark hair over the rolling expanse of his broad chest? Did that bulky armor hide any soft cushy bits, or was he all solid rock beneath it?

Bilbo thought he heard a thud from outside his bedroom door, but must to have been mistaken. Then, no, he was sure he heard something.

Yes, there was the unquestionable sound of footsteps heading straight for his room. Bilbo swallowed around the lump in his throat and squeezed his eyes shut, feigning sleep as he heard his door slowly creak open.

A few moments later, he felt a rough hand graze his cheek. “Master Baggins?” a voice whispered. His heart raced to life like a hummingbird in his chest. He knew that voice. It was the voice that he had been drawn to all night. The voice that made his knees grow weak. The voice that made the room a tad too warm, that made his face and collar grow hot.

Thorin Oakenshield was in Bilbo's bedroom. Leaning over his face, whispering warm breath over Bilbo's cheek. He felt his hair above his brow ruffle under the dwarf kings slow exhale.

Bilbo slowly opened his eyes. He looked up at Thorin and was surprised at what he found looking back at him. He was not expecting Thorin to be filled with such longing. His eyes were dark, the corners of his lips lifted slightly, as though he found Bilbo's wondering glance amusing.

“I don't mean to sound rude, but what are you doing in here? And why are you smirking at me?” Bilbo meant to sound firm, but his voice came out kind of shrill. Thorin chuckled. “I came to ask a question,” he replied, “ and the emotions that crossed your face just now were most amusing.”

Bilbo huffed and crossed his arms over his chest as he sat up to face the dwarf, now perched on the side of his bed. “Well go ahead what is it you feel can't wait until morning?” he asked impatiently, gesturing for Thorin to continue.

Thorin placed himself more solidly on the edge of Bilbo's bed, effectively crowding the hobbit's space. “I've watched you the last hours since my arrival. Why do you stare?” Bilbo shifted a little and opened and closed his mouth a few times, rendered speechless at being called out on gawking at the king.

“I would assume you wanted to bed me,” Thorin continued bluntly, “but you never asked. I felt the urge to come to you at first, then it occurred to me that this may not be common custom to hobbits, so I decided to approach you in private.” Thorin finished simply.

“I'm sorry. What are you saying? Approach me? For what, exactly?” Bilbo asked as he felt the heat of a blush creep up his cheeks.

“If a dwarf feels compelled to bed another, we simply come forward and ask. So I am asking. Do you wish to bed me, Bilbo Baggins?” Thorin questioned simply.

“Well- - I - that is to say.... come again?” Bilbo was once again rendered a babbling idiot by the dwarf.

“I thought my meaning was plain.” Thorin responded with a wry grin. “Yes it is, but – if - what you're asking - you want.......why?” came Bilbo's eloquent reply.

Thorin grinned at the stammering hobbit and leaned closer, half crawling until he was almost on top of him.

“Because, Master Baggins, you are fascinating and adorable.” Thorin found Bilbo's leg beneath the quilt and slowly moved his hand up to his thigh. Bilbo closed his eyes and shook his head a little, trying to find logic beneath the blanket of arousal that was rapidly engulfing him.

“Do dwarves tend to sleep with anybody they find interesting?” he asked incredulously.

“No,” Thorin answered as he leaned in to press his lips to Bilbo's neck, just beneath his ear.

“I- I- don't think.....um.........we should.....” Bilbo attempted to remember exactly why this was a bad idea as a hand found it's way into the hair at the back of his head. “Don't think,” Thorin said as he pulled Bilbo into a searing kiss.

All reason fled Bilbo's mind as the dwarf's hot tongue plundered his mouth unmercifully. He buried his hands in Thorin's glorious hair and pulled him closer, matching his enthusiasm.

Thorin reached down and with one swift movement, stripped Bilbo of his sleeping pants. He pulled his shirt off between heating kisses, casting his clothing across the room.

Bilbo thought he heard a lamp crash to the floor where his clothes had landed. He should be embarrassed the other dwarves would no doubt know what was happening in his room, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. He was too caught up in staring at the dwarf in his bed. Thorin was on his knees, raised up above Bilbo. And he was a sight to behold. Bilbo watched as Thorin disrobed, pulling a thin undershirt over a toned abdomen and chiseled chest, then working his trousers loose, he quickly stripped them over his muscled legs and cast them aside onto the floor. Thorin's muscles rippled in his arms and across his chest with every movement.

Yes. Thorin was most definitely solid all over. His long dark hair fell beautifully down his rugged back, the silver streaks near his face catching the moonlight through the window.

Bilbo may have been drooling.

Thorin tossed his hair over a shoulder and turned back to the hobbit's lust clouded gaze. “Oil?” He asked simply.

Bilbo jumped a little at being pulled from his thoughts so abruptly “What? Oh. Oh! Yes yes.” Flustered once again, Bilbo threw himself over the dwarf's side to reach the night stand at Thorin's back. There was a bit of fumbling and what may have been cursing before he pulled himself back to sit next to the dwarf.

“Do you want, or would you like to...?” Bilbo stammered. Thorin simply laid back in response, setting his feet up on the blankets beneath him and spread his thighs slightly.

“Well that... ok then.” Bilbo would eventually have to get used to being flustered. He wasn't sure how he managed to keep stammering and blushing so continuously. He rose up onto his knees and scooched over to the dwarf who was spread so neatly before him. He uncorked the vial of oil and managed to spill it all over both of his hands. Well, that would have to do. Thorin peered down at the flustered hobbit and raised an eyebrow.

Well that did it. Bilbo was quite tired of feeling like a blushing virgin maid, thank you very much. He grabbed the over-confident dwarf king by the hips and rolled him over. Thorin let out a grunt of surprise at the hobbit's sudden audacity, but made himself comfortable, cradling his head on his crossed arms on the bed. Bilbo squeezed Thorin's powerful hips in his oil slicked grasp and pulled them up. He looked at the firm backside now proudly displayed before him. He slid one hand over it greedily and used the other to coat himself in oil.

Bilbo couldn't help the groan of appreciation that escaped his lips. Thorin turned his head and shot Bilbo an amused look. Bilbo scowled and quickly lined himself up with the dwarf's entrance, and, without any warning, thrust unmercifully inside. Thorin let out a most undignified yelp and the hobbit couldn't help the grin that overtook his face as the dwarf king squirmed.

Bilbo waited for a few moments for the poor king to acclimate to the abrupt intrusion. As soon as he felt Thorin unclench around him, he shifted his hips experimentally. Thorin let out the most beautiful moan Bilbo had ever heard in his life.

Sweet Yavanna. This would not take long.

Bilbo immediately took up a brutal pace, eliciting more of those delicious sounds from the dwarf beneath him. He watched enthralled as Thorin's glorious back arched, the muscles rippling in response to his thrusts.

Bilbo couldn't stand to just keep watching. He had to touch.

Bilbo ran his hand slowly up Thorin's sweat slicked back and groaned. It was far better than he imagined. Thorin's skin was smooth, like hot silk over rock. He slid his hand into Thorin's thick hair, pulling it to the side. He tugged on it, using it as leverage as he resumed his punishing pace. He wrapped his other hand around to grip Thorin's cock beneath him and stroked in time with his thrusts.

Thorin gripped the sheets beneath him and muffled his roar in the mattress as he came hard over Bilbo's hand. Bilbo's pace became erratic as the dwarf clenched around him. His eyes rolled back as his hips stuttered. He put his fist in his mouth, biting down to keep from shouting out as he reached his own release.

Bilbo took a moment to catch his breath. Then, he more or less fell onto the bed next to Thorin, a sated mushy pile of hobbit. The dwarf rolled over onto his back with a deep sigh. Dwarf and hobbit lay panting on the sheets, sweat glistening on their bodies in the ghostly moonlight. Bilbo turned his head to look at Thorin, who was eying him with a most satisfied grin.

“You are full of surprises, Master Baggins. That was spectacular,” Thorin chuckled. “Yes. Yes it was,” Bilbo commented between gasps. “Next time, my burglar, I will be on top.” “Next time?” “Yes. You will be joining us, won't you?” Bilbo sighed in defeat and wiped the sweat from his face with his clean hand. “Yes. Next time, you can be on top.”