#I had it all planned out but then i spent nearly two full days sleeping off a shoulder injury

[aha-my-villainous-thoughts]

It's the first Monday in May and I couldn't be more excited to be an absolute bitch sitting in my jammies judging people outrageously more wealthy than me who still can't buy good taste or stick to a goddam theme 💅

I really wanted to get my Blackbonnet Met Gala 2019 AU illustrated fic done for today but it's proving a girthy undertaking (mostly me adding more art of Ed in his glittery glory), so until I eventually finish it, here's a little tidbit of the two red carpet Co captains 💜

More wips/works for this campy lil AU: X X X X X X X

I have so many wips on this premises, Notes on Camp was my favourite theme so far, but I also have some ideas floating around for Heavenly Bodies 👼

[kyouka-supremacy]

—

[batchilla]

False Accusations (You know I KNOW right? Chapter Two)

Let me first say thank you for all the kind reception part one received. It was … a surprise, and a welcome one.

Also, a massive thank you to @sunnie-angel for beta reading. If you haven’t read their work… Do yourself a favor and check out their masterlist!

This Chapter takes place over a few days in two mini stories., and I would appreciate being told if at any point this causes confusion. Currently how I’ve done it is as tilted segments. Content warning: this chapter has themes of sexual harassment in the workplace up to the point of groping (from an OC), and corruption. Proceed with caution. Be safe.

The morning after. You are going to murder your partner, Grayson. Perhaps with a gun. Maybe your own two hands. Or maybe you just need coffee.

It's probably the coffee thing. Coffee, then you’ll decide if you're going to kill him and how. As you sit at your table, surrounded by notes you’d made at 4am, the urge to throttle Grayson slowly subsides. You hadn’t slept a wink. You’d had a weird night. But if you were going to do this, help him find this killer… you’d need a plan for if it all goes to hell. A diversion. A plan so that if you’re made, maybe the killer will think you’re on the wrong track. A dummy investigation. But simultaneously one that you won’t overthink, so that you can devote your time and brainpower to the truth. Luckily for you, you have the perfect person to pretend to accuse. After all, your partner, Grayson, is an incredibly weird guy. 8:55 am finds you walking into the station sipping your third coffee of the morning, only to find Grayson sat at his desk. Shirt pressed, tie perfect, hair shampoo commercial glamourous yet slightly messy. The urge to murder your partner returns, just a little. How dare he be so… normal? So unaffected? How dare this man fight crime by night, and be smiling at you as he is now, chipper and bright and perfect, before 9am? The nerve. Maybe you could hit him with a patrol car and claim it was an accident. “Morning detective… Long night?”

Oh.. This fucker. Your partner, Grayson, is the most annoying man alive. You hate how badly you have to fight the urge to grin at the sheer audacity.

She looks exhausted, the poor thing. Dick remembered the feeling, but at some point he’d adapted to running on less sleep than was by any means reasonable. He hoped she wouldn’t need to. That this would be over in a few weeks and she’d be back to getting a full eight hours. “Morning Detective… Long night?” She glares at him like he’s caused personal offence. He raises an eyebrow at her to prompt a response. Inside though, he panics. Had he done something wrong? Could she suspect? No. no of course not. But whatever she said next would surely be important. It was a test of sorts. What would she say she’d spent the night doing? Would she betray his alter ego? Could she sell the lie if she didn’t? “Just had a night in, had a little too much to drink,” she shrugs, opening her bag and removing a notebook. Casual, calm, partially true and nearly impossible to disprove short of a blood test or breathalyser, and even then there was deniability. Dick nods, and looks back down to his computer to hide the grin that splits his face in half. He knows he can’t dwell on it, knows he can’t act on it, but it’s completely unfair that she was that smooth. That helpful. She’d agreed to help him - as Nightwing - instantly. Her words about how Blud owed him a debt had played in his mind on loop for the rest of his patrol. He knew what it felt like to fly. To flip through the air at dizzying heights, gravity a mere afterthought. It was cruel, frankly, that he’d found someone who made him feel even better than that, only for her to be someone he couldn’t be with out of principle and professionalism. It wasn’t that he objected to her as a partner - short of his family, she was possibly the best he’d ever met. Frankly, if she was transferred to Gotham, the bat signal would be turned on far less frequently. And he didn’t object to rules about dating fellow officers, especially one’s partner. Objectively it made sense. But it didn’t change the fact that her smile was the best part of his day. That on the rare times she laughed he could swear he heard an angel just straight up quit its position in the heavenly chorus out of pure envy. That when she’d said she’d help he’d wanted nothing more than to grab her face and kiss her till she was breathless. But he can’t. Or at least Dick Grayson can’t. A new voice breaks him from his spiralling thoughts. “Detective Grayson.” The man standing behind his partner's desk has a hand on the back of her seat, preventing her from swivelling around. 

“We haven’t met yet, I’m Sergeant James McElroy. Seems you spent most of my first day back stuck on a stakeout.” “Pleasure.” he responds, with all the charm he’s learnt to use at galas and parties, forcing down the venom incurred by the way his partner had seemed to lose a gallon of blood at the sound of his voice, and the way she had seemed not to breath since the name was spoken.

He's not touching you. Of course not. He knows better than to do anything so blatant. It's how he’d gotten away with it for so long last time. He doesn’t touch you, or say the things he was so clearly thinking. He would masterfully walk the line between making you feel unsafe, alone, and naked, while never crossing over into anything actionable. Till one day he had. It had been in a crowded lift where he’d used the crush as an excuse to grab and to feel, whispering something vile in your ear. 

He’d figured he’d gotten away with it when you tried to tell your captain and he’d asked if you had a witness. You’d thought he’d gotten away with it too. Till a uniformed officer, Janet Rodwell, had stepped up to have your back. You should have known, really. For the second time in 24 hours you feel like a fool. But while the first time it had been accompanied with a dizzying realisation of love, this time the realisation is dark and chilling to your core. You’d thought you’d won, that it was over. But he’s back and he’s not touching you, but you feel the ghost of his hands all over. You can’t win. He’d been sent away and you thought you were safe again, but he’s back and he’s a sergeant now. Because Bludhaven, as it is, rewards men like him. You can’t bring yourself to look over your shoulder at him, so you look straight ahead, across your desk and to your partner’s adjoining one.

It's not Dick Grayson’s eyes you meet though. They aren’t cheerful, carefree and beautiful. Well, they are beautiful. But they are angry, intelligent, and fierce. You meet Nightwings gaze, and you feel the claws around your lungs relax, even if they do not recede. 

His partner did not rattle easily. Did not panic unnecessarily. 

Pinned down by the Penguin’s smugglers, he’d thought their goose had been cooked unless he could work at his true capacity, so he had shot out the lights and gotten to work. He’d taken out nine, but been unable to find the tenth, until he’d heard the struggle. 

She’d taken him down blind, without drawing her gun. When he’d asked her why she hadn’t, she’d told him she’d lost sight of him in the chaos, and was unwilling to risk it. He wished he hadn’t shot the light out so he could have seen it. 

Still, he had been oblivious. It had hit him like a batarang to the face last night, in that moment where she agreed without hesitation to help him find a serial killer. He’d known she was beautiful, and brilliant. That he had a crush. 

He’d realised last night he was in far, far deeper trouble than that. So, if she was frightened and upset by the presence of this man, then Dick would take his looming over her as a serious threat. He trusted her gut. “You haven’t introduced yourself to my partner, Detective—-” He’s cut off with a dismissive wave that boils his blood. “Oh we’ve met. In fact, she was my partner first. Until the misunderstanding.” There are many ways to snap someone out of a panic. He’s seen sheer rage do it many times. As it does now. “There was no misunderstanding,” she says, her voice firm, her teeth gritted. “Well. I want you to know-” he moves from directly behind her, to her side, leaning down over her, invading her space. Dick wanted to hit him. “I understand that what I did could have been seen as invasive, and you may have felt that I overstepped. I have completed a course, as demanded by HR, and will attempt not to cause you to feel that I have been inappropriate again.”

She takes a deep breath. He can practically hear her count in his head. He stands, moving around the desk to stand beside her, not quite a barrier but a comforting presence, or at least he hoped. “Well. Whatever occurred, we have work to be getting on with, if you don’t mind.” It takes a great deal of the restraint his training has given not to add the words ‘you bastard’, or something far more creative. “But of course. Detective. Detective.”  

Your hands shake as you sit back down in your seat. Your partner, Grayson, returns to his own, his gaze - Richard’s gaze, never leaving your face, crumpled in concern. “I don’t want to overstep… but are you alright? What … did he do?” “I…” you want to tell him, in part. Or maybe you don’t, and you want him to know without having to go through the ordeal of rehashing it all. Maybe by consulting whatever ‘oracle’ he used as nightwing. But you can’t right now. So you don’t. “I… need some air.” Your partner just gives you a comforting smile, a nod, and lets you leave without question. Wingding in the window 

It's five days later, on his patrol, when he notices it. The wingding left in her window. He stops on the roof of the building adjacent to her. As far as city roofs go, this one’s relatively nice. Someone’s placed some potted plants around, in an eclectic attempt at a rooftop garden. Some of these pots contain small pebbles as cover for the soil from the wind. Grinning to himself, he takes a handful. 

Was this a good idea? No. 

Was it deceptive? Well, no more than anything else he did as Nightwing… well, maybe a little more. 

But it hurt, holding her at arm's length, when a part of his soul he tried to ignore yearned to be as close as she would allow. He knows it’s not good. He knows it’s a violation of the utter trust she seems to hold in Nightwing. Really, it would only make things even more messy for his chances as Dick. But he wants to make her smile. Blush, even. He knows she finds him attractive, and in both contexts, but he wants more than that. Over the last week he’s realised just how much he wants to have with her, and it terrifies him. 

If it was simple lust he could deal with it.  But it wasn’t, and so here he was, about to attempt the cheesiest move known to hallmark films, just to see if it would make her laugh at him again. 

He’d managed to be professional while surrounded by highly capable, badass women in skintight clothes for most of his life. He’d had crushes before and gotten over them. He wanted everything with her. And that was not something he knew how to handle, given the mess of their situation. Dick shakes his head, snapping himself out of his doom spiral. He had a detective to meet, and a serial killer to find.

Bap. Bap. Bap. You look up from your book. You’d been getting ready for sleep, wearing your cosy pyjamas, curled up in bed with a book and a hot chocolate. You go still, listening. Bap. Bap. A pause. Then, the rap of knuckles on glass. “I ran out of rocks”

You know that voice. “With you in a moment.” You pull on a dressing gown, and take a moment to curse the fact that your slippers are rabbits before pulling the curtains aside. Nightwing is crouched on your windowsill. You lift it, stepping back as he enters through the window with all the grace of a cat. You know that you shouldn’t be embarrassed to be in your pyjamas, it's late, you had no means of knowing when he’d arrive. But he looked divine in that suit. An adonis. And you're in your old bathrobe and bunny slippers. Truely, you must have done terrible things in a past life. “Nice footwear.” Nightwing says with a smirk. Curse him. Curse his cheekbones and the way his lips look so damn inviting. “You picked up what, five rocks?” you sass right back. Nightwing makes a noise you suspect was supposed to be a scoff, but is more of a squeak. “Do you see a lot of pocket space on this?” 

“Fair.” you say, leading him out of your bedroom and into your living room. He sits on your couch, one leg spread wide, the other’s ankle resting on its thigh, as you open a drawer on your coffee table and produce your masterpiece. Nearly five metres of red string. Names, photos, dates, all studded with pins so pressed so tightly in they haven’t a prayer of accidental removal. You prop it up on the coffee table. 

Maybe your friends were right. Maybe you did need to touch grass. A line of thought for later. You look at Nightwing, who’s no longer relaxed and laying back on your sofa like he owned the place. 

Its years of maintaining a poker face in interrogations and more recently, dealing with his shenanigans that prevents you from grinning. 

He's as pale as you’ve ever managed to see him, and leaning forward now, elbow on knee and chin in hand. “Well, this is… impressive.” He sounded like he’d inhaled helium. “Shall we start with Sergeant McElroy?” you offer, smiling your best ‘there’s nothing wrong’ smile, enjoying making him squirm. “You seem to have … a significant amount of evidence against Detective Richard Grerson?” You fight the urge to roll your eyes as you take a ruler, poking your picture of him between the eyes. You hadn’t planned to do him first, you’d hoped to discuss evidence that would actually lead somewhere. 

This was still going to be fun though. You take a deep breath, and pause for a suitable level of dramatic effect, and begin your game. 

“Detective Richard Grayson. He’s my partner. He’s an excellent detective, and a good man. You might have heard of the charity he founded.” Nightwing makes a noncommittal humming noise. “But is it all too good to be true?” you ask, moving to your first notecard. “Exhibit one. He asked about the file. On its own, innocuous. But then, exhibits two through four. He’s prone to frequent disappearances on cases. He often knows a little too much about the criminal underside of Blud. Things that I have triple checked are not in any police database.”

You run a hand through your hair. “He’s a highly trained combatant. I once saw him take down nine men armed with guns, in the dark. They don’t teach that at the police academy.” “No? No.” Nightwing says, clearing his throat. “I mean yes. That is… suspicious.” “Incredibly. Which brings me to exhibit five. Now I’m no behavioural analyst or shrink. But I know my basics. Childhood trauma and instability can have… lingering impacts. I… don’t feel the need to dredge up his past, but I did look into it… and it’s grim. He was then taken in by Bruce Wayne. His relationship to his father, whatever it is, is something he’s even tighter lipped about then… everything else honestly. It’s not on the board because it’s circumstantial at best… but he has this skill of being able to hold long conversations and yet you come away not having learnt anything deeper about him.” 

He was pretty sure he’d been nodding for a good thirty seconds at this point.  

It would be funny if it didn’t hurt so much. 

The worst part was that it was all well reasoned. Practical. He had done everything she accused him of. She had just drawn a far more down to earth conclusion, that he was a corrupt cop, rather than Nightwing. 

It made sense. Too much sense. How could he shut this down without seeming invested in his own innocence? 

That isn’t what causes his lungs to burn though. No. The root of that was that even if he’d forced himself to maintain a professional - if friendly - distance from her, he would have hoped that she trusted him. 

But in this moment, looking at the evidence, looking at her holding that ruler to his photo’s face like a judge's gavel ready to condemn… he knows. He knows that she will never look at Dick the way she does as Nightwing, happy to see him, believing in his mission, ready to help as soon as he’d asked. Even if he clears himself of this crime, she would surely suspect him of others. 

He’d known it, at least on one level, ever since he’d first met her. He knows it now all the deeper, and he wants to scream. Dick Grayson will never get to tell her how truly wonderful she is.

How highly he regards her. 

How she is one of the reasons he keeps fighting for Bludhaven. 

Dick Grayson will never get to tell her that he loves her. 

But… perhaps Nightwing could have something. Because if she was his north star, then the way he’d felt when she agreed to help him had been like being engulfed by a supernova. 

If she was water, then seeing her cosy and ready for bed and smiling as she let him in through the window had been an oasis in the Sahara. 

If music was the food of love, her attempts not to laugh and stifled giggles over his peeps popcorn had been a symphony orchestra. 

But he’d never have her as himself. Not at all. Nightwing though? She at least found him attractive. Aligned with his ideology. No, he’d never feel that warmth of 10,000 stars directed at the real him. 

No, he’d never be able to be quenched by her life saving presence. 

No, he’d never feel her laughter shaking his bones as if in a musical crescendo.

But even the dimmest and most distant star gave off some light.

Even the last drop in an empty water skin was better than nothing.

Even the memory of a melody could be sweet. True, he would only ever have scraps of her affection. True, he could flirt, and perhaps go even further… but he’d never truly be with her. 

But who was a starving man to deny scraps of sustenance? He’d take what he could have and try to ignore the lingering hunger. 

“Perhaps we should discuss… another suspect?” he prompts, realising how long he’s been silent. How long she had been too, watching him with a strange, concerned look.

She nods, and moves on to their Captain.

Dick is almost relieved when some ten minutes later Oracle calls in a robbery downtown. “Well - sorry Sherlock.” He takes a picture of her board for further study. “I’ll be around next week to continue this discussion, and look over this in my own time till then. Duty calls.” “Be safe,” She says softly, as he’s halfway through the window He looks over his shoulder. “As you wish.”

Taglist: @jasontoddproblems

@sunnie-angel

@stormz369

@love-theangel-blog

@torchbearerkyle

@interwebseriesfan24

@love-theangel-blog

@alwaysnervouswitchprince

@underlinekasis

@tiredsleepyandreading

@soradragon Banner credit is to @strangergraphics

If you would request to be added to my taglist, please reblog the fic. Honestly please just reblog it anyway? I worked hard on this. Nothing more demotivating than a fic getting only likes. If you want part three, reblog part two. 

[er-osion]

Grocery Store Shenanigans

pairing: Jason Todd x gn!Reader

summary: You and your boyfriend go grocery shopping

word count: 1.3k

warnings: one tiny bit of sexual innuendo, fluff

⋄∘∗⋅⋆≁≁⋆⋅∗∘⋄

“Did you remember the list?” You asked your handsome boyfriend as the two of you got out of the car.

“Of course. Did you remember the bags?” Jason replied as both of you approached the entrance to the grocery store.

“Of course.” Jason grabs a cart as you two enter the store. It’s 11 o'clock at night right now, and you and Jason are at one of the few grocery stores in Gotham that are open 24 hours a day. Because of Jason’s work as Red Hood, your routines can be abruptly upended at times but you’ve learned to adapt and overcome. You love him, so you do what you can to support and be there for him, even if that means sacrificing your sleep every once in a while.

Tonight, Jason took patrol off and you two spent the evening watching reality shows on your couch until you suddenly remembered you were out of vital breakfast and lunch ingredients for tomorrow. That’s how you and Jason ended up at the grocery store so late at night. You actually don’t mind that much, the grocery store is empty with the exception of the employees so you and Jason have the whole place to yourselves. It’s very quiet and quaint and you relish the privacy of shopping with your boyfriend.

You and Jason wandered to the produce aisle first, where you would read the list in your hand and then grab the item that was written down. Jason watched you calmly with an unreadable expression that still somehow held affection. Jason lived for these moments. The moments when life got mundane but he still got to share it with you. There was something so domestic about grocery shopping together, only doubled by the emptiness of the store that gave the two of you your own little world. You and Jason had to go grocery shopping regularly, what with your careful meal planning (and Jason’s enormous appetite) so this was an errand you both got to indulge in frequently.

“And the eggs…” You absentmindedly muttered to yourself as you picked out a carton of eggs and handed them to Jason to put them in the cart.

“Eggcelent choice, my love.” Jason quipped.

You snorted and rolled your eyes, “Leave the puns to your brother, Jaybird.”

“You’ve gotta be yolking me, Grayson’s puns don’t nearly measure up to mine.”

“If you don’t drop the sorry egg jokes you’re gonna have to scramble to find a ride home.”

Jason choked on his laugh and began pushing the cart so the two of you could continue your shopping. You made your way to the bread aisle and started filling the cart with your favorite carbs. Jason piped up again with a coy tone of voice, “Is your full name ‘food cake’? Cause you sure are an angel.”

Your head snapped toward him. You tried to conceal the smile growing on your face but your eyes, in betrayal, were full of mirth. “Are you seriously flirting with me in the bread aisle?” You asked incredulously.

“Why not? Just like you, bread is soft and delicious. I can’t think of a better place to make some moves.”

“Wow, you’re a real modern day poet.”

“Hey, if I put you in the cart with all the other loaves of bread, will you let me eat you when we get home, too?” Jason leaned forward against the cart so his figure was floating just before you, his eyebrow raised suggestively but his tone playful.

Your mouth dropped momentarily in shock. “Unbelievable. Jason Todd, you should be ashamed of yourself.” You tried to hide how flustered you were with a reprimanding tone, but you could tell by Jason’s smirk, that you’d failed.

“My question still stands.” He reminds you.

“As does your audacity, it seems.”

“Ouch. Here I am, so sweet trying to seduce you, and here you are, insulting me.” Your giant boyfriend put his hand over his heart dramatically.

“If I wanted something sweet, I’d bust into the grapes we have in the cart.”

“You have some spunk tonight.”

“TLC will do that to a lady.”

“But of course.” Jason agreed and moved the cart forward so you two could finish up your grocery store run. The two of you were walking side by side, chit chatting about nothing consequential. Jason then slipped his hand into yours and you laced your fingers together in response. His hold on your hand was firm and all encompassing, like a hug, it was unbelievably comforting. You brushed your fingers against his knuckles and from the corner of your eyes, you could see a relaxed smile grow on his face. Just being in contact with you brought a level of support and stability that let Jason relax in a way he never thought possible before meeting you.

The two of you made your rounds around the store and finally came to the check out. The tired college student at the check out greeted both of you with familiarity. You and Jason kept exchanging mischievous glances at each other, trying to hold back laughter at the checker’s obvious lethargy. After Jason paid for the groceries, you packed them back into the cart and the two of you snuck out of the building, as if you were newbie criminals robbing a store.

In the parking lot, Jason motioned with his hand to the cart with a prankish expression and you mirrored it when you processed what he was suggesting. You moved the food to one side of the cart and then Jason helped you into the cart. Both of you were full of giggles as you adjusted your seat in the cart. It was times like this, when you were especially appreciative of your boyfriend’s inhuman strength, it gave you moments to be extra childish with him. After you were comfortable, Jason reclaimed his spot at the handlebars of the cart and put flourish in getting into a ‘ready’ position.

“Okay, capitan, ready for take off?” Jason asked with faux seriousness.

You responded with equal gravitas, “All’s clear here, private.”

“Ground control has started the countdown. In 3, 2,…. and 1.” On ‘1’, Jason took off with a powerful speed. Both of you failed at holding down your laughter, the merry sound ringing throughout the empty parking lot. Jason expertly maneuvered you through the empty lot, wind blowing across your face. You gazed at Jason, your eyes full of love and admiration. It made you unbelievably happy to see Jason happy, as carefree as he could be, like right now. He deserved so much in the world, so much happiness, it made you proud that you could be a source for it. Your primary goal in life now, was to make sure the love of your life always felt at ease around you, and Jason made sure you knew that’s exactly what you did for him everyday. Jason met your gaze with equal pools of love. He’d never understand what he did to deserve you, but he’s grateful every single day that you’re in his life. You’re like oxygen. He doesn’t just want you, he needs you. Jason wants to be a constant source of happiness for you. He wants to make you laugh and smile as much as humanly possible, and if he accomplishes that by being a little childish with you, you bet your ass he’d do that everyday.

Your combined laughter and the light of your grins drowned out the sounds of traffic and sirens so customary to Gotham. There was nothing that existed outside of you, Jason, and this parking lot. Even grocery store runs were special with Jason, there was something so perfect in the domesticity you two shared. Like the expertly crafted epilogue in a romance movie, neither of you wanted this moment to end.

[ssahotchnerr]

I saw your request for aaron hotchner valentine’s day! maybe an aaron hotchner x bau wife reader and they are all away on a case and they’re still there on valentine’s day and it’s been a rough case and y/n has been extremely stressed but Aaron makes sure she still feels special and treats her to a nice dinner and surprises her with flowers

too married

happy vday pt 2!!! cw; fem!reader, your usual cm case descriptions, mentions of food/alcohol, fluff <333

"it's disheartening, isn't it?"

aaron hummed from in front of you, fiddling with the key to grant the two of you access into your hotel room. "hm?"

"that we're here. on valentine's day." you could laugh if pushed, your voice sharp and inches away from wavering.

no matter how little the inflect, and even if you hadn't shown it at all, aaron still noticed it. he paused and turned back to you, a forlorn expression on his face. "sweetheart-"

"it's fine." you brought your hands to your face, frustratedly and tiredly rubbing your eyes for a moment. "sorry, i'm just looking for something to complain about. it's been a long day."

"a hard day." aaron added in your regard, reaching out to touch your arm soothingly.

your current unsub clearly hadn't felt the universal love within the air; he's been most brutal the bau had endured in a while. full of mutilation, a sickening signature, devolving by the minute.

truthfully it had gotten to you; you were finding it extremely difficult to compartmentalize, and spending most of the day staring at the graphic crime scene photos didn't help. at one point you couldn't bring yourself to look at the pictures, lowering your head down to the table and wanting nothing but to cry into aaron's shoulder.

but he was nowhere to be found, you've barely seen him. he had spent a good portion of the day conducting interviews, off following leads that only resulted in dead ends.

you did see him at lunch, but ignored his occasional, concerned glances. if you were to make eye contact with him, and despite how tempting that was, you would have lost it. in addition, the fact it was valentine's day, made it kind of worse.

sure, it was partly a hallmark, commercial holiday, but you couldn't help but yearn to be out to dinner with aaron - eating ridiculously priced food in a restaurant you could barely see him in, giggly and warm from the wine, serial killers being the least of your concerns.

and rather than going to bed to continue the night, you were going to bed to get a few hours of shut-eye if you were lucky - given the late hour and horrors of the day to keep your mind awake. before it was right back to where you had left off.

"besides, we're also too married to do anything too special, right?" you forced a laugh, the sound sounding foreign in the empty hallway. aaron internally winced, the strain and exhaustion in your voice tugging sadly at his heart.

you continued, "and if we were home, it'd be a quiet night-in wouldn't it? maybe we'd get take-out, watch a movie, go to sleep early."

a lie, but anything to make yourself feel better.

but, that's where aaron, without fail, always stepped in.

"well," he started, but didn't finish his thought - finally managing to get the room key to cooperate and pushing the door open, entering with you at his footsteps.

his back constructed your view, but once he sidestepped towards the bathroom to your right, he revealed a bouquet of red roses, chocolate covered strawberries, accompanied by a card waiting on the desk.

"i know it's not much." aaron explained as you froze, his hand finding the small of your back. "and it's not everything either, i do have more planned for once we're home but-"

maybe it was the near delirious exhaustion, the day you had, him, or all the above, but you only had one means of responding.

you grasped onto the lapels of his suit jacket, bringing him to you and kissing him so forcefully he nearly tripped up against the wall. aaron laughed gently in your mouth, but the kiss was long and deep, the two of you melting into each other.

not enough? it was everything, and the kiss alone silently proved that.

"thank you." you whispered once the two of you separated. your palms were resting on his chest, the fabric of his shirt soft under your fingers.

aaron smiled, the kind that caused the ends of his eyes to crinkle happily. "i love you. and although today wasn't how it should've been, and i would've loved to have spoiled you endlessly, and jack would've definitely been staying at jessica's for the night." his lips turned upwards into a light smirk, a wicked glint in his eyes before turning to their softness. "just like any day, i'm reminded how lucky i am you're my wife. whenever i'm with you, wherever we are, i'm home."

you blinked at him, in utter bafflement and awe. "how do you always know just what i need to hear?"

"because you're my beautiful wife, and like you said, we're too married." he teased, but his playful demeanor sobered, his voice lowering to a whisper. "i'm sorry you had a bad day."

"it's okay. it's better now," you answered just as softly as you looked into his eyes, stroking your thumb along his cheek before turning back to your surprise, "and when did you manage to do all this?"

"i can't reveal all my secrets, can i?" aaron quipped with a smile, pulling you in for another kiss. you reciprocated, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"happy valentine's day darling. and to many, many more."

[littlejuicebox]

My Sun, My Moon

Pairing: Spawn Astarion x GN!Reader/Tav Summary/Setting: 6 months post BG3 / Part 2 to my other fic Astarion talks in his sleep. Rating/Warnings: PG-13 / In game spoilers / Alludes to sexual encounters / Mentions of past trauma etc / Pretty much all fluff / It’s so sweet it’s going to rot your teeth Word Count: 2.3K Notes: This is 5/5 Days of "Star-mas!"

*takes a bow* Happy Holidays! Hope you all enjoyed!

I'm also entering this into the #BG3HolidayFluffle23 challenge under the prompt "twinkling lights."

Click here to see my master list.

-----

After Astarion’s sleep-talking gave away his little secret, you’d spent nearly every waking moment anticipating the rogue’s proposal. You were horribly, terribly wrong every time, of course. You began to think that perhaps your original assumptions were right, and that an engagement would come much later on. Maybe he wasn’t quite ready. Maybe he was just planning and thinking about the future… the frustratingly distant future. He’d ask the question when he was ready, you reasoned; in his own time and on his own terms. You could respect that.

But then, on the eve of the Netherbrain Battle’s six month anniversary, you came home to a dinner that Astarion had cooked (almost) entirely himself. Candles were lit, table settings were placed, and your lover chose an expensive wine pairing for the meal. His steak was, of course, entirely raw while yours was seasoned and cooked to perfection. You were certain you had Shadowheart to thank for your half of the meal, but you’d complimented your lover and all his efforts, nonetheless. At the end of dinner, you were quite confident that this would be the moment you’d been waiting weeks for.

“I have something to say.” Astarion murmured, lithe fingers rubbing circles on the back of your hand as he clasped it in his own.

You practically felt your soul leave your body in that moment. Oh gods, you knew what your answer would be, you knew this was coming, and yet here it was, and you were still wholly unprepared. You barely fumbled out a, “Y-yes, my love? What is it?”

“I read your mail.” Astarion responded, his eyes flooding full of guilt at the confession. He expelled a small sigh, flicking his gaze up at the ceiling and then back down to you. “Darling, I know we have been discussing this for months, but I really don’t think we should go to the Underdark. You’re getting so many outstanding offers that require you to remain in the city. You’re the hero of Baldur’s Gate, for god’s sakes. I know you want me to be safe from the sun… but I can’t, in good conscience, do that to you and rip you away from so many wonderful opportunities.”

“O-oh…” Your chest deflates and you catch yourself frowning for just a moment. Astarion’s brow furrows as he incorrectly interprets the cause of your sudden mood shift to be the current conversation and not the crushing disappointment you were trying to shove aside. You quickly try to move into a more neutral expression, but the rogue is already jumping into another worried explanation.

“Darling... Please hear me. I love you more than anything, and I know you better than anyone. You will not be truly happy there, of that much I am absolutely certain. These offers you’re receiving will give you multiple avenues to build the life you want…. the life we want. Imagine the good you could do with that level of influence, my love! Let me help you; I can review contracts, negotiate deals… whatever you need to ensure your success. Do not throw away so much potential on my account. I simply couldn’t live with myself if you did.”

He was right, of course. The only thing you wanted almost as much as you wanted Astarion was to continue the good work you two had been doing for Baldur’s Gate.

You sigh and nod your head, squeezing his hand gently. “You’re right, my love. I suppose it would be silly for both of us to throw away so much opportunity.”

Astarion beamed at your response before leaning over the table to plant a kiss on your lips. You smiled at the rogue when he pulled away to look at you with adoring crimson eyes. Perhaps it hadn’t been the conversation you were hoping for, but it had been a good and much needed one, nonetheless.

-----

Tonight, you and Astarion decided to take a stroll around the city. You were following the vampire’s lead, ambling around the streets as he pointed out more than a few of his old haunts. He revealed some of the difficult moments in his past as you two meandered about… more than one of the tales nearly made you cry with an overwhelm of sympathy for your lover. But you held back, knowing the elf hated eyes full of pity almost as much as he’d hated Cazador.

You noted that Astarion seemed to look back on his experience with more acceptance now. You knew, of course, that there were likely an infinite number of stories he had not yet revealed to you and perhaps never would. But you were still happy to see a bit of lightness in him as he spoke his truth. He hadn’t appeared to have one of his episodes on the entire walk, and as you pondered this, you also realized his night terrors had only occurred a handful of times this month. Such an improvement to what had been an almost daily incidence when you two originally moved in together.

Before long, you and your love arrived at the docks, where just over six months ago you’d felt as if you’d been stabbed in the gut as you watched the rays of sunlight scorch the vampire until he was forced to run for cover. But now, you two stood there hand in hand, resting in a pocket of comfortable silence. Both of you were admiring the twinkling starlight, full moon, and dark, mysterious expanse of the sea.

“The stars were so much more beautiful in the wilds… don’t you think, my sweet?” Astarion asks, his eyes filled with wistfulness as he ponders the sky.

You utter a little hum of agreement as your mind flashes to the first night in camp, when you caught Astarion reclined on his bedroll, stargazing. You turned your head to look at the rogue and remind him of the memory, but found he disappeared from your line of sight. Your vision wanders down and there he is, bent on one knee.

Oh this had to be the moment. Just when you were about to shout yes before the rogue even had a moment to say anything, Astarion looks up and smiles, a small pouch of gold coins in his hand. “Look! I suppose it’s our lucky day, darling. Their loss is our gain, would— are you alright, Tav? You’ve got this strange look on your face.”

Gods, not again. You feel your face flush with embarrassment. In your excitement and overwhelm, you’d almost ruined everything and let Astarion know that you knew his little secret. You made the decision then and there that this would be the last time you anticipated his proposal; let it happen when it’s meant to happen. You were done playing the guessing game. You couldn’t ruin everything with your big fat mouth.

You nod your head slightly before turning to look back at the stars once more, taking a deep breath and hoping to settle yourself.

“Yes, my love. I suppose I’m just thrilled by the beauty of the stars and the full moon, tonight. And by your beauty, of course.”

The rogue stands up, tucking the small sachet in his pocket. He smiles and places a soft, loving peck on the apple of your cheek before wrapping his arm around your waist. The two of you look up at the stars once more, and you spend a few moments pointing out some constellations in the sky. Stargazing had been one of the first things you two bonded over in camp.

Astarion is watching you with devoted interest as you ramble on about the planets and the mythological creatures represented by the patterns in the stars. Finally, there is a small lapse in conversation, and you want to take the opportunity to kiss him, but when you turn, the vampire is once again out of your sight line.

When you look down this time, Astarion is looking up at you, holding a velvet box in shaking hands.

“Tav—" He manages to choke out, but then his eyes fill with tears, and he stops to blink them away, chuckling softly at himself. You immediately come to kneel in front of your love, hands pressed to either side of his face, silently urging him to continue.

The vampire inhales shakily, suddenly quite overwhelmed by the extreme vulnerability he knows he’s about to lay before you. But the softness of your hands on his face grounds him in the moment and he smiles, admiring the look of utter adoration in your eyes.

A couple of tears fall over the edge of his lash line, and you immediately swipe them away with your shaking thumb. Another chuckle escapes the silver-haired elf, and he shakes his head in disbelief.

“My love… I’ve rehearsed this for weeks. I’ve said it all out loud more than a thousand times, I’m sure. I’ve spent almost every opportunity in your absence practicing this. One time I even had Shadowheart pretend to be you while I rehearsed my grand speech. But now that we are here… I’ve nearly forgotten everything I wanted to say.”

You move forward to press a kiss to Astarion’s lips, your hands still shaking as you run your thumb over his cheekbone. “It’s okay, my Star. Please continue, when you’re ready… rehearsed or from the heart… I want to hear it all the same.”

Astarion nods just a fraction and inhales. The shaking hand that is not holding the ring box comes to lay atop your own hand resting on his face. Your love slowly, absently runs his thumb along the back of your palm as he gathers his thoughts. He stares into your eyes with so much love that you almost kiss him again but hold yourself back to allow him to continue.

Astarion exhales a shuddering breath and then continues in a reverent tone, as if he’s whispering a prayer, “My darling. I have lived long life. Much of it was a sad and hopeless one. When we were walking through the city, I pointed out several places where I’d encountered horrible things. Many of those things are still hard to talk about… some of it, I don’t know that I will ever be able to.”

You are crying now, from the overwhelming blend of sympathy for your little Star and palpable feeling of love in this beautiful moment. Tears begin coursing thin streams down your cheeks. Astarion wipes away the tears as they fall, though his lips start trembling from your display of emotion.

“B-but what I do know is that… in many of the places I pointed out, there are also memories of us. Of our friends. Of the time we spent together before saving the city and of the six months we’ve spent here after that. Little by little, we are taking places that only held horrible memories for me and turning them into places that hold feelings of hope and happiness.

I guess what I’m saying is that… these past six months have been the counterweight to two hundred years of misery. And I do not think I deserve you, but I cannot imagine my life without you. You are everywhere I go, everywhere I look, and every happy memory I hold in my heart. If you’ll have me… I would like to spend the rest of our lives, however long they may be, turning this city into a place of hope for us and for the people we hold dear.”

Astarion opens the box, and you gasp in true awe as he reveals possibly the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen. At the center is a beautiful moonstone, emitting an ethereal glow that shines brilliantly in the darkness of the pier. The setting is gold, and an intricate sunburst pattern made in smaller gems surrounds the center stone.

“Standing on the dock that day, after that long battle… I had the thought that my life was ruined when I realized I could no longer stand in the sun. I thought I might never know true happiness again. But it turns out, that was the moment my new life with you began… and you’ve opened the door to more happiness than I could’ve ever imagined for myself.

Even if I never see the sun again, I have made my peace. I would make the choices I made to be here with you, on this dock, in this moment, again and again in every lifetime. You are my sun and my moon. And my darling, it would be my honor to be your Star for the rest of time. Tav… will you marry me?”

As soon as the question comes out of your lover’s lips, you instantly push forward to crash into Astarion, enveloping the elf in an emotional kiss. You both topple over from the sheer force of your ardor, and as you do, the vampire deftly snaps the ring box closed to protect it from spilling out onto the dock.

When you finally break away, panting heavily, both your faces are thoroughly flushed with excitement. The vampire looks up at you, scarlet eyes filled with absolute devotion. You giggle and press one more soft kiss to the rouge before taking your hand in his and pressing a kiss to his knuckle. “Yes, Astarion. Nothing in this life would make me happier than to share it with you.”

-----

Later that evening, the two of you are naked in bed after several rounds of vigorous celebration. You’re admiring your ring, which is still faintly glowing in the semi-darkness of your bedchambers. Astarion takes your hand and presses his lips to the ring with a small smile; his scarlet eyes closely examine the gem.

“I don’t know how it works… you would have to ask Gale. But the center stone glows when I think of you, you know.”

You blink, moving to touch the gemstone in the middle of the ring with curiosity. “But it hasn’t stopped glowing since we’ve been on the docks.”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since we’ve been on the docks.” Astarion replies simply, moving his hand to stroke your cheek as a gentle, good-natured laugh escapes his mouth, “Perhaps now you’ll have some insight into how often my thoughts revolve around you, my sweet.”

You feel your eyes welling with tears again. Damn this man and his beautiful heart… he truly never misses a detail when it comes to you. You move forward to pull his lips into another loving kiss, and when you break away this time, a thought crosses your mind.

“Astarion… did you really find that bag of coins on the dock?”

Your lover grins mischievously, his crimson eyes crinkling at the corners as he grabs your ring-clad hand and kisses it once more.

“No, my sweet. But I had to throw you off. Shadowheart told me about my mishap. I wanted to surprise you… but you know me far too well and you’ve never been easily fooled… and the sleepy confession didn’t help things at all. I just figured that you would never anticipate that I’d drop down on one knee twice in a row.”

Astarion knew you just as well as you knew him… and he had been right. He’d fooled you. You roll your eyes and chuckle as the rogue moves closer to you, nuzzling into the side of your neck where fresh fang marks throbbed.

“Now what do you say, darling? One more round of celebration before we go to bed?”

[lvverleavr]

Mutually Exclusive | Entry One

Entry One: Memories Relived

༘ Jake x f oc (Annalise)

༘2.7k words

༘warnings: language, illusions to sex

A/N: This is a first chapter to test the waters on if I should carry out a full fic of this so I'd love any feedback 🤍

Summary: In an ongoing letter to Annalise, Jake tells the perspective of his early adult life— living out his dream with his brothers and her seemingly always by his side. But when the band gets signed to a record label based out of Nashville, Anna struggles with the ability to pack up and leave. With a complicated dynamic by the day his flight leaves, Jake outlines his struggles and worries from the day he left Anna. All things that flood back the moment she shows up out of nowhere three years later.

Entry One:

I vividly remember the first time I met you, you’re barely your own person at fourteen but you were already so– you. Josh had joined the theater club and he couldn’t shut up about you. He went on and on for hours about how you jumped on stage, singing when you were told to sing and even crying with real tears on command. It didn’t take long for me to be captivated by you as well– usually I found the best reason to be out of the house when Josh had the theater group over for practices but once you began to tag along, my social life seemed to free up.

These run ins seemed to be more frequent– you quit the theater club after your first year but you never stopped coming around. Your mother rarely left her bed much past getting a glass of water and your father worked himself to death by the time you were sixteen. Our house quickly became yours too and I never minded, you stayed up even later than me and you spoke in your sleep– I could hear it through the walls when the guest bedroom slowly became entirely yours to decorate, filling it with posters of Jeff Buckley and Stevie Nicks until nearly every inch of the wallpaper had disappeared. My younger brother began to tease me for how much time I spent with you– claiming it was some hopeless crush I had, chasing after a girl who had no idea I was infatuated with her, it made me wonder at times if he saw something that even I didn’t see. Even with the comments they never seemed to phase me, never seemed to shutter the bond that you and I had created. I was really locked in on the band once we hit our senior year, convincing Josh to dedicate a few days a week to the garage and even picking Sam and his best friend Danny up early from school some Fridays for gigs without our mom knowing. You always took our pictures, claiming if we were gonna be a good band we needed some half decent shots. My father lent you his old camera and you became our very own band photographer. Still to this day we’ll all agree that you were just finding a way to feel included on nights we had gigs. By the time we graduated I couldn’t imagine having anyone else behind the stage with us.

We even went to the same school after graduation, you stayed on campus to live out some 2000’s college girl movie dream but I stayed back home and drove to campus each morning. College bars paid us $200 a night for playing from eleven until three am and we took as many as we could get. I promised my parents I’d stay in school while we played, giving me some form of plan b I never intended on using but it was either that or she’d stop letting us take Sam into bars for our shows. Small dive bars at two am quickly turned into real gigs all around town, soon we felt like a real band with a direction being paved for us. Those memories have always been accompanied by the last semester I ever enrolled in.

•••

We moved you back into your dorm, the ice still covered the walkway as we carried the rest of your boxes inside the old building– smelling of damp carpeting and old heat units. You always needed more than you packed and it drove Josh insane every year.

“You have a kitchen, why do you need a second fridge for your bedroom–” He mumbles, trudging up towards the flight of stairs.

“I don’t know my roommate, I don’t want her stealing my drinks while I’m sleeping,” You shrug, swiftly cutting past him and down a small hallway, Josh turning to look at me as I meet him with a matching shrug.

He glances down, watching you tap an elevator button with your elbow which causes him to shake his head, “could’ve told me there was a fucking elevator for our first four trips up to your room,” He mumbles under his breath, looking over his shoulder as I pass, offering a gently pat on his arm before sliding past.

“I thought you knew!” You say defensively as I watch a small smirk spread on your lips. “There’s a big sign when you first walk in that even says it.”

Josh opened his mouth for a rebuttal, quickly clamping it shut with another shake of his head and tapping the third floor button. I couldn’t help but let out a small giggle, Josh’s gaze shooting to me immediately “What are you laughing at Jake?” He snaps, “All you’re carrying is a comforter, you wanna switch?”

I shrug, dropping the comforter by his feet before holding out my arms, grabbing the small fridge from his arms. “You’re a real complainer nowadays,” I say out to him as the elevator doors open, making my way down the hall first to see your apartment door open, “I thought you said you closed this,” I call back to Josh, the two of you trailing behind me.

“I did!” He calls out, “Maybe it's the wind.”

“No wind!” A voice called from inside the door, I took the first few steps in, noticing a set of boxes sat on the couch right inside the door. A short girl rounded from the small kitchenette, she held a grocery bag in her hand and her tight brown curls were pulled back by an old faded bandana. “Are you… my roommate?” She asks skeptically, smiling as I meet her with a quick denial.

“No sorry I’m– um– just helping with the move–” I explain, watching you round the corner.

“I’m your roommate,” You smile, extending your hand out from underneath the box. “I’m Annalise but you can call me Anna.”

The girl smiles, shaking your hand before shaking mine and Josh’s, “Juliet–” She replies, “and you are?” She asks, her gaze lingering on me a beat longer than anyone else.

The eye contact caused my cheeks to heat up slightly as if on their own, “Right. I’m Jake-” I introduce myself, her fingers slowly grazing my palm as she pulls away from the shake.

“Lovely to meet you…” She smiles, turning her attention back to you, “Especially you, Anna– I took the liberty of loading my stuff into the smaller room, had a feeling you already set up in the bigger one.”

I could feel your eyes on me as her touches seemed to linger on my skin, you rolled your eyes at me slightly before finally turning your attention back to what she was saying. “I’ll just be setting up all my stuff just let me know if you need me,” You smiled to her, Josh and I following closely behind you. “Do not even think about it.” You said to me the moment the door closed. I could barely put down the things in my hand before feeling your scowl on me.

“What are you talking about-” I ask, Josh giggling as he sat up on your bed, taking the liberty to rip open a few boxes while you stayed focused on me.

“I saw her looking at you. Do not under any circumstances try to fuck my new roommate.” Your gaze narrowed, pulling a box from my hands and taking it into your own.

“Who said I wanted to!” I ask defensively. You weren't wrong, she intrigued me to say the least but was it really that bad of a thing?

“Because I know you. Don’t do it” You warn, “I have to live with her for the rest of the year. I do not need to put up with hearing about you like that for the next five months.”

“She kind of looks like you a little” Josh chimes in as he picks through the box of snacks he very thoughtfully chose to open first.

“Ew no c’mon don’t say that” I groan, shaking my head. He was right, her hair was the exact same color, her eyes shone the same shade of green and even her smile had a slight crook to it like yours did.

“No Josh you’re absolutely right and you know what Jacob I hope it ruins it for you” You bite, tossing your comforter from the floor and onto the bed beside Josh.

“Whatever okay” I roll my eyes, watching as you open up another box “I'm not that terrible to hear about, don't act like i'm horrible.”

•

Those next few weeks I crashed on your couch between classes, even spending nights there after late Sunday gigs. It was better than driving back and forth to the house and Juliet never seemed to mind. One club had a standing gig with us on the first Sunday of the month, we played the last set of the night and we even started getting a regular crowd to show up and see us. It was small but had a real backstage, it felt like the real deal to us. “I’m not even here stop looking at me,” You giggled, waving Josh off as he kept glancing into the camera lens. “Jake you're next-”

Your voice was faint, my focus on the conversation I was having with Juliet as she tagged along for the night. Her hair was down, draped over her shoulders and it framed the heart shaped neckline of her top. I wish I could say I barely noticed how low cut it was but that would be a lie and she knew it. “No, I never really get the chance to go out to shows. I'm really excited to see you out there.” She smiles, leaning against the beam running floor to ceiling beside one of the curtains.

“The real show is from the front, you should make your way out to the floor to see.” I smile, feeling her fingers brushing my arm. She didn’t even hide that she was flirting with me and at one point I stopped caring and started flirting back.

“Jake-” You repeat, pulling me from my conversation as I look over.

“My turn?” I ask, still feeling Juliet’s eyes wandering across the features of my face as you nod. “Don’t move, hm?” I smile at her, offering a small wink before walking over to you. “Alright where do you want me?”

“Just go fix your hair in the mirror, I need more candid stuff” You say, your tone flattening from what I heard you using with Josh.

“You don't have to get all weird,” I mumble, taking my fingers to gently rake them through my hair. “It's harmless flirting,” You don't reply, the click of your camera is all I can hear, so I keep talking, “Even if something happens you don't have to know about it-”

“Stop talking your messing up the shot,” You finally say, and all I can do is sigh in response. “You can do whatever you want, I just don't need to hear about you two if it happens.” You continue after a few moments of silence, “it's gross.”

I can't help but chuckle, rolling my eyes “You're so dramatic.” Finally turning to look at you, “Like I didn’t have to hear about that god awful sociology TA you had ‘sexual tension’ with all last year.”

You grab a pillow from the small chair in the room, throwing it at me as I start to laugh. “We did, he wanted me and that's why I passed with a 97 on my exam. You're just gonna take the only friend I made here and fuck her.”

I roll my eyes, “You can be friends with her and I can fuck her, they’re not mutually exclusive.”

•

I spent that night on the couch, Juliet leaving for her own bedroom not long before you went to bed as well. I shifted on the couch, finally settling in before needing to shift again. It must've been near two am by the time I felt sleep crowding my vision, jolting back awake to the quiet sound of a door knob twisting open. The soft light from Juliet’s bedroom filled the space just inside the living room, enough for my eyes to adjust to her outline, she glanced at me, offering me a small smile as she noticed I was awake. “Did I wake you up?” She whispers softly, I shake my head in response, “Oh good-” Her eyes linger on me for a moment before making her way past me to the kitchen. I couldn't help but watch as she passed, the warm light outlined her silhouette, her shorts barely covered to her thighs and her shirt lifted up her stomach slightly as she reached into the cabinet for a glass.

“It’s very rude to stare,” I hear her whisper, my cheeks warming slightly as I realize she noticed my lingering stares.

“Oh um I’m-” I start, noticing a smile on her lips as she looks at me.

“I don't mind,” She replies, filling the glass halfway with water before leaning against the counter. Her fingers gripped the edge of it as she brought the glass to her lips. I sat up further, seeing her rested against the counter as she looked at me from over the back of the couch. “Anna didn't seem too happy that you were flirting with me tonight.” She says after a few moments of silence. “You two have something going on?”

I can't help but laugh, quickly clearing my throat to cover it up “Sorry no… no nothing,” I correct her, shaking my head, “She just doesn't wanna hear if something happens… The girls she’s friends with and the girls I date aren't allowed to mix apparently.”

She nods, setting her glass on the counter before stepping towards me. “It doesn't matter though if she doesn't know they mix,” she smiles, “right?” She was standing at the arm of the couch by now and I couldn't seem to pull my eyes away from her, all I could muster up was a small nod. “I’m just saying I’m not one to kiss and tell…”

I sat up the rest of the way, allowing her to sit in front of me on the couch. “You're not one to be subtle are you?” I finally ask, watching as she rests her elbow on the back of the couch, shaking her head as she rests it on her palm.

“I’m not… But then again you're not very subtle yourself” She smiles, watching my eyes trail to your bedroom door. “She's not gonna wake up… We both know that.” She says softly, my attention turning back to her as I feel her fingers graze my knee. Everything in those next moments felt like a blur, a sped up memory and before I could think her lips were on mine. My hand cupped her jaw as her lips pressed to mine, parting slightly as her tongue slid past my lips and dipped into my mouth. My thumb circled her jaw softly as my other hand dropped to her hip, my teeth gently tugging at her bottom lip which pulled a quiet moan from her. My mind swirled as I continued to kiss her, my lips were sore but I craved to taste her even more.

“We should stop” She whispers against my lips, I nod and kiss her harder and she gently tugs at my hair. “Or you can come in my bedroom-” Her words fell from her lips in nearly a whimper, I nodded eagerly, barely able to stand and follow her to her room before I kissed her again.

The night with her came in flashes, the sheer impulsivity of the decision stayed in my mind in bits and pieces but the most I could remember was waking up the next morning. She laid beside me, the blanket covering her bare chest as the sun just barely lit up parts of the room. I knew I wasn't supposed to be in there but I barely remembered even falling asleep beside her. I slid on my shorts quietly, slipping out of her room in an attempt to make my way back to the couch before you left your room, but stopping dead in my tracks as you stood in the kitchen.

“Anna-” I whisper. I don't know why the sight of you had me frozen in place, like I was caught in some terrible act. You glanced up at me, looking me over for only a moment before picking up your mug and walking into your bedroom without another word.

[thedroneranger]

A Little Time Alone

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Précis: Bradley and his wife have been busy with everything except each other.

Note: One of two entires for @roosterforme’s #love is in the air tgm love song playlist challenge. This fic is inspired by Luke Comb's The Kind of Love We Make.

Warnings: 18+ only, smut.

Word count: 3.7k

It had been weeks since we spent any time together. 

Between the new curriculum and latest batch of pilots, I was coming home late every night and leaving early every morning.

At first, she was doing her damnedest to stay up until I got home. Each night, before sliding into bed, I would slip her tablet from her clutches and remove her askew reading glasses, placing both on her nightstand. Once I settled into bed, unconsciously, she would snuggle into me, allowing me to fall asleep with a smile.

However, lately, it was clear she had been sleeping for hours. Tucked into bed, fast asleep with just her hair peeking between the bedding. I would slide into my side and do my best not to disturb her.

Each morning, I didn’t leave without giving her a goodbye kiss, but guilt always edged my decision to not wake her. Instead, I would press my lips to her forehead or cheek, whichever was exposed.

Things seemed to take a turn after her plan to surprise me with lunch on base was foiled. Normally, she would coordinate with Maverick, if he were around, or the security guard she had befriended to sneak into my office with sandwiches from our favorite deli.

Of course, she always wore a dress, which made it easy for me to bend her over my desk for a pleasurable finish. 

We had a text code so I knew to expect her. The last time she plotted a lunchtime date, I, unbeknownst, stood her up. Unable to check my texts all morning, I never saw her message and never went to my office. It wasn’t until later in the evening I saw several messages and a couple missed calls. 

I was devastated and wanted to apologize in person. However, she was always asleep when I got home. I even tried to call a few times during the day, but I never managed to catch her. After that, we exchanged fewer and fewer texts throughout each day. 

Even our weekends had been spent separately. I found myself on base more and more for special events and training. Hell, the last couple weekends, I even slept there.

She, on the other hand, has been a godsend, representing us both at family get-togethers and other personal events.

I can only imagine how she felt, likely making up excuses for my lack of presence.

The whole situation made me absolutely miserable.

“Bradley. Bradley. Bradley!” My head jerked to find Maverick intensely staring at me.

“Yeah, Mav?” I coughed to clear my throat and gave him my full attention.

He and I were alone in his office. Maverick and I were co-instructors for an upcoming class. We were going over the lesson plan when my thoughts drifted. “What’s on your mind, Bradley?” Mav put down his pen, leaned back in his chair and looked at me.

Shifting in my chair, I noticed the tension in my shoulders and that I’d been holding my breath. Subtly untensing, I spoke. “I can’t remember the last time I spent time with my wife, and she’s getting distant.”

Maverick leaned forward. He loved her like a daughter. Actually, I was convinced he liked her more than me. Mav was always reminding me not to let work ruin our relationship. 

Not that he had room to talk. 

Although, he and Penny have appeared rock solid since getting back together. Once Maverick proposed and they wed, Penny was the happiest I’ve ever seen her.

“Bradley—”

I cut off Mav. “I know, I know. Don’t fuck it up.”

“Go home,” he said.

“What?” My eyebrow cocked.

“Go home. Report back on Monday,” Mav said. We stared at each other for almost a full minute. “Go fix it.” The tone in Mav’s voice told me he was about to make it an order, so I nodded, gave a quick salute and dashed out.

Not having been home at a decent hour in nearly a month, I forgot what traffic was like. It had me doubting if I would be home any earlier than as of late. 

Her vehicle was in the driveway when I finally pulled up.

My feet were carrying me faster than my brain was processing. My mind was trying to get my hands under control so I could get the key in the door, when the door flung open.

A gasp left her lips as our gazes locked. “Hey, stranger.” She did her best to hide a smirk. Unfazed, I walked toward her, forcing her to back up and allow me into the house. Once far enough in, I closed the door. 

“Hey,” I replied. My eyes raked across her form. She was wearing a short red sundress and some strappy sandals. My cock twitched. I could not recall the last time I saw her in anything other than our fluffy duvet. 

“I should go—I don’t want to be late.” She walked toward me and got on her toes to kiss my cheek. However, I turned my head and captured her lips with mine. She hesitated for a second, but melted into me as I wrapped an arm around her waist and the other hugged her ribcage. Her hand slid from my bicep up to my neck. 

We separated just enough to look into each other’s eyes. “I hate that I forgot what you feel like,” she said. 

The comment made me hold her tighter. “We can’t have that,” I said as a matter of fact. Her eyebrow and lips quirked. I smiled at her. “I’ve been missing you more than you can imagine,” I confessed.

She was still looking at me with a tight smile. “I may have an idea.” She pursed her lips and looked off the side. Then, she looked back at me and pressed her lips to mine. As we kissed, I uncoiled an arm from around her, so I could reach back to lock the door.

She heard the click. “I have to go,” she said with her lips still against mine. 

Again, we separated just enough to look at one another. “Cancel.” My voice was more demanding than either of us expected. She looked surprised but not offended. “We need a little time alone.” I sounded softer. “So tonight, I’m only gonna be your man,” I told her. She raised an eyebrow. “I’m off the entire weekend.”

“Bradley Alexander—” She was ready to scold me for messing with her. 

“Scout’s honor.” I held my fingers up in the Eagle Scout sign. We stared at each other. “There’s no way I’m leaving this house, especially when you look this good.” My hand dropped lower to squeeze her backside. She dropped her head trying to hide the blush in her cheeks as if I’d never seen it before.

“Go shower,” she said. My grip on her loosened so she could step away. “I’m not spending the evening huffing jet fuel.” She looked my attire up and down. I left in such a rush, I still had my flight suit on. 

Extra swagger in her hips, she sauntered to the kitchen. For a split second, I considered following her and bending her over the nearest surface. But tonight called for something slower, softer than a counter quickie.

Instead, I went to our ensuite bathroom and let the water pressure ease my muscles. Soothed by the water and steam, I lost track of time. When I realized, I hopped out, did a quick shave and dressed.

We were home, but she was wearing that sinful sundress, so I at least wanted to wear something I knew she’d love. I put on my favorite pair of worn jeans, a white tank and an Aloha shirt I knew was one of her favorites. 

I padded downstairs, noticing the lights were low and she’d lit candles. A smile turned my lips when I heard Led Zeppelin IV spinning on the record player—I thought about the countless times we made out to this soundtrack.

When I rounded the corner into the kitchen, I stopped in my tracks. She was sitting on our small breakfast table, palm supporting her, head tilted back, wine glass to her lips. One leg ran the radius of the table while the other hung off at the knee. Her heel popping to the beat of the music.

She turned to look at me. “Wine?” She held out her glass. I shook my head as a coy smile pulled a corner of my mouth. She winked as she polished off the last sip in her glass.

As I approached the table, she shifted so she was facing me and placed the glass at her side. Stepping between her legs, I pushed the glass further back. A hand on either side of her, I leaned so we were at eye level. 

Her hand cupped the side of my jaw, and her thumb ran along my lips. Mindlessly, I pressed a kiss to it. The tiniest smile curled the corners of her mouth as she searched my face. I hummed as her fingers traversed the raised skin of my scars and came to rest on the dip of my chest just below my clavicles. “Do you have any idea how handsome you are?” she asked.

Surely she felt my chest rumble as I chuckled. “Only when you tell me.” My voice was raspier than usual. Leaning further into her, I dropped my head to place soft kisses on her neck. 

“Surely other women tell you.” I knew exactly what she was doing. 

“I can assure you, they keep their thoughts to themselves,” I replied. Between kisses I told her about my latest class catching sight of her on base. It was the last time we had lunch together before our drought. A couple of them commented about a hot civilian. Turning, I found her chatting with Maverick. 

I told them the easiest way to not return from a mission was ogling another pilot’s spouse. One of the women who had been doing her damnedest to flirt with me blurted, “That’s your wife?!” I nodded at her with a wink. She paled and never looked me in the eye again.

The earned laugh that quickly morphed into a moan had me considering unzipping my pants and unceremoniously fucking her. But I had to pace myself. She was flat against the table, my body covering her with my forearms holding me up as I kissed whatever exposed skin was available. The raggedness of her breathing kept me going. 

“Do you know how hard it is for me not to wake you up every night at some ungodly hour?” I told her, picking my head up to see her response. 

Her bottom lip was between her teeth as her eyes twinkled in the low light. “Why wouldn’t you wake me up?” she asked. Her thighs were squeezing my hips, the skirt of her dress covering almost nothing. 

“First, you sleep through absolutely everything.” She chuckled as my hands skimmed her bare thighs. “We could be having a magnitude 10 earthquake, and you’d sleep through it.” She nodded in agreement as one of my hands slid between us. 

I froze. “Where are your underwear?” She never went commando without a purpose. 

She propped herself up on her elbows. “Maybe I was hoping you would be home, in bed, when I returned. And I could wake you up.” She paused. “If you came home.” Her gaze was intense.

My smile faltered and my head dropped with my shoulders in a moment of guilt. Quickly, I looked back up at her. “I’m sorry.” Still gripping her thigh, my thumb drew circles on it. 

“Show me,” she said.

“Excuse me?” I had expected her to scold me or for us to get into a deep conversation about the past month.

She moved my hand from her thigh to between her legs. “Actions speak louder than words.” Expertly, she maneuvered my hand to guide two fingers into her. “Show me how sorry you are. How much you’ve missed me.”

For a minute, I froze. Tired of waiting for me, she wrapped her hand around my wrist to slide my fingers in and out of her. Finally, I got a hold of myself, my thumb pressing to her swollen bundle of nerves and the pads of my fingers stimulating that spongy spot inside. Her breath caught as I took over.

“That’s it, honey.” She melted against the table. “Let’s take it nice and slow.” She clenched around my fingers—I thought I might come right then. “Fuck,” I said under my breath. She smiled as she watched me squeeze my eyes shut. 

Back on her elbows, her fingers snuck into my hair and pulled me until our lips connected. My lips parted just enough to allow her tongue in. It toyed with mine, matching the rhythm of my fingers pumping in and out of her. Her lips left mine with a smack. “Bradley,” she moaned as I alternated between scissoring my fingers and curling them against her G spot.

“That’s it,” I cooed, keeping the same pace and pattern. I could feel her tightening around my fingers. “Fuck,” I breathed out, enjoying the feel of her. My lips fell to her neck, knowing the additional contact would send her over the edge. 

The stutter breath she let out matched her contractions around my fingers. “That’s it, honey.” I watched her face as she went through her high, my fingers keeping pace. As she untensed, I slowed to a stop. She looked at me as she steadied her breathing and a smile appeared. She continued to watch as I cleaned her from my fingers. Immediately, she pulled me down to taste herself.

She hummed as we separated. “Go pick another album. I wanted to make out with you on the couch.” My cock jumped from just the words leaving her mouth. Standing to my full height, I helped her off the table. 

She shooed me with her hands to the living room where my inherited record player was housed. I thumbed the sleeves until I found the perfect selection: The Velvet Underground’s Loaded.

As soon as the needle fell into the groove, she appeared with the bottle of wine. We both traipsed to the couch. She split the wine as I settled into the sofa. I accepted a glass and then beckoned her to sink into my side. Together, we sipped and listened to the opening song. 

As the next began to play, she placed our empty glasses on the coffee table and straddled my lap. My hands came to rest on the tops of her thighs, pushing the fabric of her dress higher to expose more skin. She shimmied even closer to me, so she was at even more of a height advantage—my head was tipped almost completely back. 

Her fingers sifted through my locks, her nails massaging my scalp. A deep breath I didn’t even realize I was holding escaped my parted lips. She smiled as she watched me relax. My eyes were practically in the back of my head, her massage turning my mind to mush.

She tugged my hair, which earned a moan and caused me to shift under her. She ground against me, the stiff seams of my jeans caressing her most sensitive spot. I let her roll my head to the side so she had better access to pepper kisses along my neck. She continued to grind against my denim-clad crotch. Boy, did I wish there were less fabric between us. 

My fingers dug into her thighs as she sank her teeth into my neck. “Christ,” I said under my breath. She sat back and eyed me, proud of the reaction she got. Her thumb passed over the spot that would surely be purple later. “Maybe your students will have fewer questions come Monday.” Before I could say anything, she leaned in and sweetly pressed her lips to mine. 

“You’re such a sour patch kid,” I teased. She smiled at the nickname while she nipped my lips and swirled her tongue against mine. At the same time, her hands were busy unfastening my jeans. She climbed off my lap, and I lifted my hips to help her rid me of my garments. 

Climbing back into my lap, her knees bracketed my hips and the tops of her feet contoured the curve of my thighs. Her core rested against my length. I wanted nothing more than to guide myself into her.

“It’s really unfair you look this good in such a silly print.” Her fingers followed the shoulder seams of my shirt to the collar. Using the points, she pulled me back in for a kiss. As we separated, her hands dipped under my collar and over my shoulders to help shed the cloth. 

Once that was off, she took advantage of a tiny hole I hadn't noticed in my tank. Penetrating it with her finger, she pulled and the fabric easily gave way. I watched as the hole grew and she fisted the fabric to snap it at the hems. She untangled me from the ruined garment and dropped it to the floor. 

My arms snaked around her waist, pulling her closer and hands palming her backside through her dress. Her hips lifted, and with one hand, she guided me into her. Slowly, she returned to her resting position. A sigh left my mouth as I felt her adjusting to me.

“Honey,” I trailed off as she squeezed me a couple times. We kept eye contact as she began to slowly lift and lower herself. The pace quickened just a bit as she fell into rhythm with the music.

As she kept going, my hands slipped under her dress and began to pull it up until it was over her head. Once it was off, my mouth immediately found one of her nipples. The moan that left her lips was euphoric. 

It made me bite her harder. She let out something between a moan and cry as her nails sank into my shoulders. I hissed, enjoying the burn as she scored my skin.

She was frustrated, and I wanted every bit of that energy. 

Not wanting to miss any of it, I coiled an arm back around her waist and easily flipped us so she was laying on the couch parallel with the cushions. 

Her doe eyes stared up at me, filled with surprise. My quirked lip grew to a smirk, as I anchored a hand on the cushion beside her head and the other on the couch back. My hips began to rock, setting a new pace for us. The lust came back to her gaze as her soft thighs met my hips and her heels found purchase in the dimples of my ass. 

I held it together as her nails gently ran from the top of my cock to just under my pecs and back. Her touch was soft but firm enough not to tickle. I flexed a little extra. 

Watching her breasts bounce with each thrust was enamoring. Her breathy gasps each time I bottomed out were the only noise I was hearing. My eyes sank as she stopped touching me and started touching herself. 

My pace stayed the same, but my gaze was trapped where we connected. I slid in and out while her digits swirled along her swollen nerves. My hips stuttered from the added pleasure as her index and forefingers made a V around the base of cock. “Fuck me,” I whined. 

She smiled. “No, you’re fucking me,” she corrected. We laughed together. 

“I missed this so, so much,” I confessed. Wanting to be closer to her, I sank to my elbows. I tucked my palm behind her head, letting my fingers sift through her hair. Her eyes were hooded as she looked at me through her lashes. 

We locked gazes as she took a deep breath and moved her hands to my waist, her nails sinking into the flesh just above my hips. At the same time, I felt her entire lower half contract, thighs hugging me and core convulsing. 

“Bradley.” My name was long and drawn out as it left her lips. It was enough to make me spill into her. I breathed her name into the crook of her neck as I curled my arm under her head, my elbow became her head rest, to hug her whole body as close as possible. Her hand ran up my side and hooked around my shoulder. 

I followed her name with a pleasurable hiss as her teeth sank into the meat of my shoulder. She punctuated the action with a tender kiss. The first of several she trailed into the crook of my neck as we rode out our orgasms.

Just as we came down from our high, the record ended. “Perfect timing.” I pressed a kiss to her forehead before pulling out and heading to the record player. She whined, but turned to enjoy the view as I walked away. Patiently, she waited as I flipped the vinyl and put it back on the player. I lined up the needle perfectly, and immediately the opening notes seeped out of the speakers. 

By the time I was headed back to the couch, she was standing beside it. “Should we change the dress code in the house to birthday suits only?” I pressed my body to hers, enjoying the full frontal contact and handful of her ass I grabbed. She squeaked and arched her back. My lips covered hers to distract from her attempt to escape. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled into her lips. 

We parted just far enough to look one another in the eyes. Her expression was playful. “Apology accepted.” I squeezed her around her ribcage and stuck my face in the crook of her neck. Although we were stark naked, our hug was earnest. 

As we separated, she held my biceps, keeping us close. “Let’s go upstairs so you can keep doing what you’re doing to me all night long.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” Together, we blew out all the candles, and then walked upstairs hand-in-hand.

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Quiet My Fears (With The Touch Of Your Hand) Ch. 2

Steve Harrington x f!reader

Description: You have this amazing talent of knocking the wind right out of Steve's chest with words alone.

Warnings: pregnant!reader, mentions of being sick (among other scarier pregnancy symptoms), language

Word Count: 3614

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Rain slammed against the window panes of the Harrington house like bullets. The cold seeped through the walls and ate straight through Steve’s pajamas, and the cup of coffee in his hands was doing little to remedy it. There was zero hint of sun in the sky, it seemed like there would be none all day, and Steve was really regretting coming out from under his covers. 

Steve had only slept in his own house three times over the past two weeks; he’d made quite the home for himself on your couch, living out of a backpack of clothes he’d stuck in the corner of your living room. You had asked him not to leave you alone, and what kind of man would he be if he had said no to that? He probably wouldn’t even have been able to, anyway.

He didn’t know if he would be allowed to sleep in your bed with you, and he had been too afraid to ask. 

While his father never really bothered to care where his son was, and his mother trusted him enough to let him do his own thing most of the time, he was still expected to show his face at home every once in a while. He’d been stuck with the closing shift last night (even though it was outside of his availability, so thanks for that, Keith), and he knew you’d be fast asleep by the time he made it back to your apartment. You’d called the store after you got home at the much more reasonable hour of six thirty. ‘I think I can live with being alone for tonight’ you’d told him. ‘I’ve got a paper to write, anyway.’ 

Fuck, Steve really needed a better job. Preferably one that paid him more and wasn’t open until eleven p.m. on a Thursday night. 

You worked a big girl job at the Roane County Historical Society museum. You were just a secretary, but you had a salary, insurance, and all that other grown up stuff. Nine to five, four days a week, and they helped with your college tuition, too. Come May, you’d have a History degree and a teaching certification, and word on the street said Hawkins Middle was about to have a need for a  new History teacher. Unlike him, you had the perfect five year plan laid out right in front of you. 

Y’know, as long as Steve hadn’t ruined it for you. 

By the time he woke up on Friday, his father was long gone. It was nearing one in the afternoon, and the big empty house felt extra big and extra empty today. Steve glanced out the window as he poured a second cup of coffee and saw the rain collecting in the bottom of the long-since drained pool in his backyard. A handful of stray leaves sat mixed with the rainwater, some stuck in a brown mass on the bottom, some floating lazily atop the puddle. 

He was startled out of his trance by his mother’s voice and nearly dropped his full mug.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” she said as she walked into the kitchen, heels clicking along the tiles. “Or, good afternoon, rather.”

Meredith Harrington was the opposite of her husband in more ways than anyone could count. She actually enjoyed spending time with her child, for one, but there had never been an angry bone in her body. She wasn’t immune to frustration, or worry, but it was never unfounded. Yet still, for every wild flame of rage that shot from her husband's mouth, she counteracted with calmness. Or, more accurately, quiet, fearful resignation. Her husband never put his hands on her or their son, but Steve could always tell that she had spent her whole marriage walking on eggshells, waiting for the terrifying moment that he did, as if it was a simple inevitability. 

Steve loved his mom, but fuck, he wished she would just stand up for herself for once.

“God, Mom, you scared me,” Steve responded, leaning against the counter. 

“I do live here, too, y’know,” she poked back with a smile. “When did you get so jumpy?”

If she ever found out the real answer to that question, she would probably never let her son out of her sight ever again.

“Haven’t seen much of you these last couple weeks,” his mother observed. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” he insisted. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

“Are you sure?” she asked. She put the pocketbook she was holding down on the marble countertop of the island and crossed the room to lean against it, opposite her son. “I can tell, there’s far too much going on in that big head of your’s.”

Steve snorted at the well meaning insult. 

“It’s nothing mom, I promise.”

“Come on now, you know I don’t buy that,” his mother asked with arms crossed. “Talk to me, kid.” 

“I-I don’t know.” Steve was absolutely, in no way, ready to talk about any of what was going through his head, especially to his mom. ‘You might be a grandma come September’ wasn’t really something he could just drop in the middle of casual conversation.

“Is it a girl, maybe?”

Steve’s quiet was proof enough that his mother was, at least partially, right. She gave her son a knowing smile.

“Tell me it’s not Nancy again, right?” she asked. Meredith was generally a pretty forgiving woman, but Nancy had really broken her son’s heart. So, while she would always show nothing but kindness to the eldest of the Wheeler children, she didn’t have to like her. 

“Oh, no. Definitely not,” Steve assured. “That ship sailed a long, long time ago.” 

“Good,” she replied. “Will I ever get to meet this mystery girl?”

Steve just shrugged, deciding it best to omit the fact that the “mystery girl” had lived across the street for eighteen years and swam in their pool every summer for a decade.

“You should invite her over for dinner some time,” his mother said. She leaned forward and pulled a piece of errant lint off of Steve’s shoulder with perfectly manicured nails. “I’ll roast a chicken. It’ll be nice.”

“She doesn’t eat chicken.”

“She doesn’t eat chicken?” she parroted back. “What kind of person doesn’t eat chicken?”

“She’s a vegetarian, mom,” he explained. 

“Ah,” his mom accepted. “Then I’ll make that broccoli cheddar casserole you like. You know, the one I make during Lent every year? Think she’d like that?”

“Yeah, I think she would.” Steve was trying his best to hide his smile, though he wasn’t doing it all that well.

“Alrighty.” She patted her son’s shoulder as she walked past him and gathered her purse. “Well, I have to go run some errands. You’re more than welcome to join me if you’d like.”

“No, thanks.”

“Right. You’re much too cool to tag along with mom to the grocery store. How could I have forgotten?”

“No! No, it’s not that, I-”

“I’m joking, Steve,” she assured with a smile. “Make sure that cup ends up in the dishwasher, okay? Not just in the sink.” 

“Dishwasher. Got it.”

“I love you! Don’t get into any trouble while I’m gone!”

With that, the heavy front door shut and Steve was plunged into the silence of deserted suburbia. 

You were at work, he had the day off with no plans, and the idea of being at all productive sounded absolutely exhausting. He finished his coffee in two big gulps and decided the best way to spend the day would be to crawl right back into bed and wallow in his feelings.

Steve had, very much on purpose, kept most of his thoughts about your current situation to himself. Partially because every time you two did start talking about it, you ended up a slushy pile of tears in his arms. The other reason, though, the bigger reason, was that he was terrified that you would put all of your own wants and wishes to the side and do whatever he wanted you to. The concept of you having a baby you didn’t want just to appease him made him sick to his stomach.

His parents only got married because his mom ended up pregnant at nineteen, and having a baby out of wedlock in 1967 was a social sin of the highest order. So they planned a wedding in two weeks time (a small family affair, exclusively to save face and avoid the questions that arise with courthouse ceremonies), and moved into a big, fancy house so that everyone knew the Harringtons were a normal, run-of-the-mill, perfect American family. His father loved to point out all of the things he didn’t get to do all because Steve came along and got in the way, and his mother. . . 

She loved him. He knew that. He also knew that she had to pack up her life to play house with a man she was always a little bit afraid of, all because of him. His father always resented him for it, but his mom never did. At the very least, she never told him she did. 

The thought of doing to you what his father did to his mom absolutely fucking terrified him, but ‘terrified’ had been his baseline state of being pretty much constantly over the past two weeks.

Steve was no stranger to fear. He’d had extensive experience with the feeling; that sharp heaviness that settled itself behind his ribs and sucked every drop of oxygen out of his lungs. When it came at him hard and fast, that was when he could handle it best. This was not that. This fear was slow and achy, all-encompassing. It sealed itself onto his bones, like some sort of emotional slime. Like a fungus.

And, honestly, most of that fear was for you, not him. The worst thing that could happen to him was that he could end up being a shitty father, and while he would hate that more than pretty much anything in the entire world, it did sort of pale in comparison to your worst case scenario. You could die.

Yeah, maybe he was being a little bit dramatic, but you still could. It wasn’t all that far outside of the realm of possibility. You were already horribly sick, you had been for the past few weeks, and while you had been taking the constant nausea and incessant dizzy spells like a fuckin’ champ, it wasn’t like a positive attitude would be able to save you if you started hemorrhaging. 

Steve really hoped, for your sake, that you had yet to go down this train of thought, but he knew you most likely had. As terrified for you as he was, he understood that you were probably feeling all of it tenfold.

And yet, behind all of that, he was having a very difficult time squashing that tiny inkling of reckless hope that had been planted in the back of his head. He was still a 21 year old dick-head who had zero business taking care of a baby, and he definitely wasn’t allowed to be excited about it. For, like, a million different reasons.

Eventually, he fell back into a heavy-limbed sleep, but was woken up however many hours later by the shrill ring of the phone. A bleary eyed glance at the clock on his bedside table told him it was just passed six o’clock. His mother should be back by now, right? He let it ring.

 A moment passed, and it rang once more. He debated for a moment if he even had the right to answer it anymore, but he begrudgingly pulled himself out of bed and picked it up anyway.

“Harrington Residence,” he grumbled, hoping whoever was on the other side could tell how frustrated he was to be awake. 

“Steve?” Your voice came through the line. It was strained, and he heard you trying your best to disguise the sobs coming from your throat. “It’s me.”

“Hey, woah, what’s going on? What happened?” he questioned, any annoyance gone. 

“Are you able to come pick me up?” you stuttered out between sniffles. “I’m at work. I-I have a flat tire.”

“Yeah, yeah. Of course I can,” he said.  

“Okay.”

“I’m on my way, alright? Five minutes, tops,” he told you. He had the earpiece of the phone tucked between his cheek and shoulder, and the cord was stretched as far as it could go to reach into his bedroom as he haphazardly swapped his flannel pajama bottoms for a pair of jeans.

“Thank you.” Another sob.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he insisted. “Hang tight, I’ll be right there.”

The rain had slowed back to a dismal drizzle that splashed into the puddles stretched across Steve’s driveway. The drive to the museum was usually short, but the evening rush (as if the barely-there Hawkins traffic could ever be called that) slowed him down just enough for it to be annoying. The museum had officially closed an hour ago, though stray patrons and evening administrative duties usually kept you back after hours. 

Steve saw you shivering underneath the awning that hung over the front doors, comparable to a lost kitten stuck in a thunderstorm. The shoulders of your sweater were soaked through, and as Steve pulled into the parking lot and stopped his car, he could see the angry black rivers of runny mascara that dribbled down your face. 

“What the hell are you doing waiting for me out here in the rain?” Steve asked as he jogged up to where you were standing. He removed his jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders. “Why aren’t you inside? It’s freezing.”

“That creepy research assistant is in there and I hate being in the same room as him when there’s nobody else around,” you choked out, syllables broken up by wracking sobs. 

“Alec?” Steve asked, and you nodded. He pulled you tightly against him before adding, “I’ll fuckin’ kill him.”

“Please don’t do that,” you squeaked. 

“Let’s change your tire, huh?” Steve said, though he made no move to let you go. “Do you have the spare?”

“That-” your words were cut off by a pitiful sniffle. “That is the spare.”

“Of course it is,” Steve sighed, though he most certainly should not have, because it just spurred on more crying from you. “Hey, it’s alright. I can take you home and we can get a new tire on it in the morning, okay?”

“I just had a really bad day,” you wept into his shoulder.

“I know, baby. It’s okay.”

“I spilled the hottest tea in the universe all over my legs,” you croaked. Steve winced at the image. 

“I’m sorry,” he said into the top of your head.

“And since it was so hot, I accidentally said ‘motherfucker’ in front of a tour group that consisted exclusively of second graders!” you added. Steve would have laughed at that if you weren’t so wildly upset. “And Creepy Alec was being creepy all day long-”

“My offer still stands.”

“And then I came out here and my fucking tire was fucking flat!” you exclaimed, punctuated by another bout of wailing, the kind that made your whole body shake and your voice stutter. Steve took it the best he could, petting the back of your head and holding you tight, wishing he could go into your brain and dig all of the bad bits out. 

“Let me get you home, and we can get you into some dry clothes and deal with your car in the morning, okay?”

“Okay,” you whimpered. 

Steve let you go, but when he went to pull you along to his car so the pair of you could leave, you stayed planted right where you were. You lifted your watery eyes to meet his, and he gazed at you from where he stood.

“Steve?” you quietly asked him. 

“Yeah?” Steve responded. A silence fell between the two of you, though the lazy rain and evening downtown traffic poked holes through it.

“I wanna keep the baby.”

You had this amazing talent of knocking the wind right out of his chest with only words alone.

“That-” came out of fucking nowhere, holy shit!, he didn’t add. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you muttered over a wobbly lip.

Steve was paralyzed. The soles of his shoes had been superglued to the pavement and his arms had been turned to stone. It was somehow both exactly what he did and did not want to hear all at the same time, because deep down in his gut he knew he wanted that too, but there was a laundry list of reasons why it was a bad idea, why it was irresponsible, why it was maybe everything he ever wanted, and- 

“Steve, if you don’t want to do this, that's okay, but I need you to tell me. Now.” Your voice, shaky and full of fear and yet so, so determined, pulled him up and away from his thoughts once again. 

“I do!” he exclaimed, maybe with a bit too much fervor. He regained his ability to move and closed the gap between the two of you in one wide step. “I do.”

You stood silent with your glassy eyes staring bullets into his. 

“Look, I’m gonna start talking, and I don’t know if I’m going to be able to stop, so if it gets to be too much, just shut me up, okay?” Steve said. He brought his hands up to grace your shoulders.

“What?” you questioned, confusion laced throughout your miserable expression.

Steve had spent the last three and a half years doing everything he could to drown out the sounds of his feelings for you, and Robin was right. It was destroying his brain. 

“I’m really, really in love with you,” he said. “And I have been for a really, really long time. Since way before this, fuck, since before Starcourt, and I’m so fucking sorry for not having the guts to say it until now. I’m the universe’s biggest coward for that-”

“You are not a coward!”

“-And I know you deserve better, but for some reason that still eludes me, you’ve stuck with me through all the bullshit, anyway. You could’ve run away whenever you wanted to, you could’ve gone with your parents when they left, but you didn’t, and that has to mean something, right?”

“Steve,” you wept.

“I promise, there is nothing in this world that I want more than to do this with you, alright? Not a single fucking thing,” he assured you. “I meant what I said. Holding your hand the whole time.”

Steve took your trembling hand into his own, fingers fitting together like lock and key. 

“If you’ll have me,” he added.

Your lips wobbled, you let out another shattered sob, and you kissed him like it was the only thing keeping you alive. Like you would drop dead right on the spot if not for his lips on yours. Steve kissed back, because he knew he would drop dead if he didn’t, and now he had tears to match your own.

“I’m really, really in love with you, too,” you blubbered after the pair of you pulled apart. You had a hand on either side of his face, fingers ghosting over the junction of his jawline and neck, and Steve had his wrapped delicately around each wrist.

“You really wanna do this?” Steve asked you. “You really mean it? You’re not just saying it?”

“I really mean it,” you said definitively. You were still very much crying, though you were infinitely less miserable than you had been five minutes ago. The pair of you stayed swaying in each other's arms, protecting each other from the cold.

“Good, because I really mean it, too,” he responded. 

The thick, foggy haze of emotion was beginning to dwindle, and despite the warm bubble of affection the two of you had created, you were still standing out in the rain. And Steve was pretty sure he could see Creepy Alec spying on them through one of the second story windows.

“Let’s go home. I’ll make you dinner,” Steve murmured to you, and you nodded in agreement. 

Steve drove you both back to your apartment and made a feast of plain scrambled eggs and buttered toast, because it was all your stomach could really handle right now. Turns out, he very much was allowed to sleep in your bed with you, and after he’d finished doing the dishes in the sink, he joined you under the pile of blankets that adorned your mattress. Your cat curled itself up at the end of the bed as you drew yourself into his side. He didn’t remember you being this cuddly, but it was a change he was more than happy to welcome.

After a few minutes, when he’d thought you had fallen asleep, your voice pierced through the quiet of your bedroom.

“You’re gonna be someone's dad,” you muttered into his pajamas. Fuck. He was, wasn’t he?

“You’re gonna be someone’s mom,” he shot back.

“Weird,” you responded. “I think you’ll be really good at it.”

“You think so?”

“Mhm. Definitely.”

And of course Steve was still fucking terrified. Terrified of the monsters, and of his dad, and of all the different ways this could go south, but he had you tucked up against his chest, and he was gonna be someone’s dad, and he couldn’t really bring himself to care about any of the scary stuff. In this moment, for the first time in as long as Steve could really remember, the underlying current of fear that ran along his thoughts was finally overpowered by just how much he fucking adored you.

Tiny Little Taglist: @sheisjoeschateau @hazydespair @damon-loves-pie @pariahsparadise @anislabonis-love @e0509 @alexa4040 @starsforviolet @jennaaaaaaaaaaaa @plk-18 @hoesbloated

[lovepotionsandlust]

Part 16

A brief authors note before the new chapter. This is a long one, it does include smut so 18+ only MDNI. There are mentions of death in this chapter as well. Things are going to get pretty interesting from here on out. Thank you all to the people who have been following along!

You had been many places with your family in the past, but Romania was never one of them. You were amazed by beautiful scenery. The small home you were staying in with the twins had one bedroom, they took turns sharing the bed with you, the other sleeping on the couch for the night. It had a beautiful window seat overlooking the green hills, and a clawfoot tub you could have only dreamt of. This morning you had woken much earlier than Fred and George, enjoying the quiet; you made yourself comfortable in the window seat. Taking in the views of the morning fog still rolling over the hills, you sipped your tea, you couldn’t help but to reflect on just how grateful you were for the two of them. Always making sure what you need, constantly making you smile, protecting you at every turn. Nothing about your situation was the typical dynamic that you could have imagined for yourself, but now you could not see anything else making sense.

“Room for one more?” Fred’s voice startled you back from your thoughts, causing you to jump nearly spilling your tea.

You smiled up at him, his hair a mess, sleep stills strewn across his features. You set your cup aside, opening your arms for him to join you. Fred happily climbed onto the large platform with you, resting his head on your chest as you wrapped your arms around him. Melting into one another, you both fixed your gaze back to the stunning view below. He pressed gentle kisses to your jaw line,

“How did you sleep? My brother didn’t snore too loudly, did he?”

“First of all, of the two of you, you’re the snorer Freddie.”

“Am not.” A small pout formed on his face.

“Are too.”

“That’s not true, take it back.”

“Fred Gideon Weasley, I have spent more than enough time sleeping next to you to know that you, are in fact a snorer.”

“You did not just full name me this early in the morning.”

“I sure did, and I will do it again if you’re not careful.”

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head, “Fine, you win.”

“What do I win?”

“The two for one special.”  George spoke up as he entered the room, placing a kiss to the top of your head.

“How did you know that was exactly what I wanted?”

You adjusted your position so George could sit near your feet, he was quick to pull them across his lap; all three of you falling into place.

“So, what do you two have planned for us today?” you asked.

“We wanted to take you to the gardens today.” Fred replied.

A day in the garden with the boys sounded quite lovely, “I think I could fit that into my schedule.”

“We wrote that schedule sweetheart, so be ready by 10:30.” George instructed.

“And wear that blue sundress.” They said in unison.

***

As requested, you pulled your blue and white sundress from your luggage, laying it across your bed. You were still wrapped in your towel, your hair clipped back out of your face as you daydreamed about what the rest of today had in store for you. A pair of hands ran down your arms causing goosebumps to rise over your skin.

“Hey Freddie.” You smiled as his arms wrapped around you, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“I will never understand how you can do that.”

“Do what?”

“Always tell us apart so easily, most of the time you don’t even have to look to know which one of us it is.”

“Consider it a gift.” You shrugged.

“Our own mother can’t even tell us apart on our best day. How are we supposed to switch places anymore with you around.”

 “I mean I could always go if you want, leave you two to your antics.”

“Don’t you even think about it.” His grip around you tightened.

“As much as I love being wrapped up in you, if I stand here like this, I am going to be late.”

“We have a few more minutes.” He pressed a slow kiss to the pulse point in your neck, your head lulled to the side instinctually, giving him better access.  He continued to kiss down your neck, enjoying the feeling you closed your eyes, melting under his touch. His hands began roaming your body as he whispered in your ear, “I don’t think I will ever understand what I did in any lifetime to deserve you.”

“Freddie…” You whined out.

He chuckled lowly, “I better leave you to get ready, or George will be upset with the both of us.”

“That is so not fair.” You protested.

“You know I will always finish what I start, but you will just have to wait. We have something special planned for you in fact.”

“Oh?” you perked up curiously.

“But I can’t ruin the surprise, so you must be patient my dear.” Without another word he disappeared back out the door, leaving you feeling more needy than ever.

***

You made your way down the stone path, taking in the various flowers of every color and shape. You wandered in awe, the twins not far behind you; carefully watching your every move. You were more scenery to them than the ever-expanding landscape. You continued further into the garden, making your way through a stone archway, you were met with what felt like a never ending field of your favorite flowers. In every direction as far as your eyes could see. Turning back to the twins, you were met with a look of pride shared between the two of them.

“You knew?”

“Why do you think we picked this garden of all others?” George answered.

You smiled turning back around, no one had ever paid that much attention to the things that you enjoyed. Your heart felt so full, your cheeks flushed a bright pink as you continued towards the flowers, stopping to softly touch the petals. You felt the twins’ approach either side of you, George’s hand rested on your lower back, Fred interlocked his fingers with yours. Right here in this moment you knew you were destined to find yourself here. Surrounded by Fred and George, enveloped in their care and love for you.

“We got you something.” They both stated.

“What do you mean?” You looked up at them puzzled.

Fred outstretched his hand that was not interlocked with his, resting in his hand was a necklace. A gold flower identical to the ones in front of you, on either side of the petals was a crystal gem; one purple and one orange. It was perfect, the two of them on one piece of jewelry.

“We wanted to find you something that represented all three of us.” Fred spoke.

Tears threatened to spill over your eyes, you couldn’t look up at either of them for fear that you would not be able to hold them back.

George spoke softly, “If you don’t like it-”

“I love it. Can you help me put it on?” You held your hair up, allowing George to wrap the necklace around your neck. “Thank you both so much, you really didn’t have to do this.”

“We wanted to.” They reassured you in unison.

“I love you both so much, truly I can not express enough my gratitude for this entire trip, for everything you both do for me.”

“You must not understand just how much you mean to us sweetheart.” Fred said.

“I think I am beginning to.”

***

 Freds hand was clamped down over your mouth, your eyes rolling back in pleasure. His fingers plunging deep within your soaked core, his thumb rubbing slow, strong circles on your clit. “So tense baby, let me take care of you, let me make you feel good.” He whispered in your ear, kissing his way down your jaw. Fred had his mind set on providing you with some relief and comfort the best way he knew how. Reaching down your hand grabbing hold of his throbbing cock, his breath hitched at your touch. “Now, now sweetheart, this is about you tonight.” His fingers angled upwards pushing on that sensitive spot you so desperately needed, your needy moans growing louder behind his hand. Your legs were shaking, struggling to catch your breath as the knot in your lower abdomen tightened. Fred leaned down taking your nipple into his mouth, running his tongue over it, grazing it gently with his teeth. Your back arched up off the bed as your release pooled below your thighs.

Stars filled your vision, Freds voice easing you back down to Earth, “That’s my girl, you’re doing so good for me.” Your eyes fluttered, his hand moved from your mouth to your cheek, pulling your gaze up to him. As Fred removed his fingers you whined at the feeling of emptiness, a pout finding your lips. “Tell me what you need, I’ll give you anything you want.” Tightening your grip on his hard cock you pleaded, “fuck me Freddie, please. I need you inside of me.” A satisfied chuckle escaped him.

“As you wish my love, on your side.”

Not wanting to waste any time, you rolled onto your side, your back facing him.  Freds long arms wrapping around your waist pulling you close to him, his hand reaching between you, running the thick head of his cock through your wet folds. A deep groan leaving his chest, whispering in your ear, “you’re so wet baby, are you are you ready for me?”

Pushing your hips back to meet his, causing him to slip inside of you. A moan louder than you had expected left the both of you in unison. His fingers digging into your hip, gliding you further onto his length until he had bottomed out inside of you. Pausing for a moment to allow you to adjust to his size. He waited for your nod to keep going, he thrust into you at an agonizingly slow pace. You rocked your hips back against him, desperately craving more.

“Slow down, you know I will give you what you need. Let me take my time with you.”

“Please Freddie.”

“Baby, I don’t want to finish too early. You feel too fucking good right now.”  

His praises caused you to clamp down on him, prompting him to pause his movements. “You can’t do that either, I am not going to make it.”

“Sweet boy, please fuck me harder, I want you to fill me up. Please.”

 “You better be quiet then unless you want my brother to hear what I am doing to you in here. He is asleep on the other side of that wall.”

You nodded, part of you secretly hoped that George was on the other side of the door listening. Your attention quickly being pulled back to Fred as his hips started slamming into you at a rapid pace. Angling your hips slightly, the head of Freds cock hitting that perfect spot with every thrust. As another climax was rushing towards you, your moans became louder and shakier. His hand snaked between your legs to meet your swollen clit.

“Unless you want him to hear you, does my sweet girl want my brother to hear how good I’m making her feel?”

Your head fell back onto his shoulder, his words only pushing you further into ecstasy. You were not sure why the idea of George hearing you excited you; but you could not deny how much wetter you were at the suggestion.  Freds teeth grazing your neck moving up towards your ear.  

He removed his hand from your mouth, pulling yours away with it. “Then let him hear it baby.”

His rolled his hips up into you, causing breathy moans to leave you, “Oh f-fuck.”

“That’s my good girl. That’s my good fucking girl. Do you want him to come in here and help me? Is that what my girl needs? Another cock to fill her up huh?”

You nodded biting down on your bottom lip, you were feeling needier than ever.

“Then call him in here.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with that Freddie? You want to share me?”

A low chuckle left him as he slowed his hips. “Darling, don’t you remember I told you we had a surprise in store for you?” He pushed himself into you deeper, which seemed nearly impossible with how full you had felt. You struggled to keep your eyes open with how good you were feeling.

***

You laid there, waiting and wondering what the two had in store for you. Covered in nothing but a light sheet and a mixture of yours and Fred’s sweat, you were going impatient. The door pushed open slowly, you looked up to find both boys standing in the doorway a look of desire and mischief spread across their faces.

“So, we wanted to put a theory to the test.” George spoke first.

“And what would that be?” You asked.

“Well, you always seem to be able to tell us apart so easily when no one else can, you claim to even be able to do that with your eyes closed…” Fred trailed off, lifting a thick piece of silk ribbon.

“So, as long as you were comfortable with this, we wanted to see how much of us was all that similar.” George continued.

You smiled up at them, “Now you see, it’s not all the ways you are similar, its all of the ways you differ that allow me to tell you apart. I will play your little game, seems there is no way for me to lose now is there?”

***

With the ribbon securely tied over your eyes, you suddenly felt more exposed than ever, a wave of nervousness rushed over you.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” They both spoke from above you.

“I do want to do this, just don’t want to mess up my perfect score.” You joked trying to defuse the tension.

“If you do, we promise we won’t tell anyone.” They responded in unison.

A silent conversation between the two of them must have been shared as you sat there waiting to see who would touch you first. A soft touch to your inner thighs caused you to jump slightly, a set of fingertips trailed up closer to where you so desperately needed. You felt their fingers ghost over your clit so gently you weren’t even sure you truly felt their touch. A light tap was pressed onto your chin prompting you to open your mouth, which you happily obliged. Two fingers pressed over your tongue; you instinctually wrapped your tongue around them. The fingers were removed from your mouth, a warm drop of spit landed on your clit from one of the boys, their fingers now adding your own spit to your swollen bud, circling over it. Pleasure shot through your entire body as the perfect amount of pressure was pressed against you.

“Georgie.” You moaned out.

“That’s right.” He answered adding a light smack to your clit. A surprised moan filling the space between you. “Next round.”

His hands pulled away from you, a whine of protest passing your lips. With no warning you felt a tongue push its way through your folds pulling your clit between their teeth, sucking on it without mercy. Your back arched from the bed as euphoric moans escaped you. You felt two fingers brush against your entrance before being pushed deep within you, angled perfectly to hit that spot you loved so much. Between the perfect amount of suction on your clit and how precisely the fingers were fucking into you, your legs began shaking as your orgasm built. Your hands instinctually moved to his hair, a hand roughly pushed yours away, as all contact swiftly stopped.

“If you want to cum you’re going to have to guess.” They said together.

Your head was buzzing with your orgasm so near, you breathlessly spoke, “That’s still Georgie.”

A chuckle was shared between the two, “She’s better than I thought Fred, we may have our work cut out for us here.”

You smiled knowing the difference in their voices easily, “Talking in the third person, are we?”

Without warning George’s mouth fell back onto your core, his tongue around your entrance, lapping up your arousal. A strong swipe of his tongue moved back up to your clit, rolling and twisting over it. His fingers pushed back inside, fucking up into you relentlessly. You felt Fred’s mouth latch onto your nipple, his hand caressing your other breast. Your hips bucked forward, only to be wrapped with Georges free arm holding them in place. Fred kissed his way up your neck to your ear, speaking lowly to you, “Cum for him my love, you have earned it.”

This pushed your orgasm over the edge, your head lulled back as euphoria overtook you. Your leg wrapped around Georges shoulders holding him in place as he continued to fuck his fingers up into you, he let out a deep moan on your clit, the vibrations only adding to your pleasure. As your orgasm concluded, your limbs fell limp around you. Fred and George lowly whispering praises to you as you returned down to earth.

You fought to catch your breath as all contact from the twins concluded. Your mind was completely blank as you felt one of them position themselves between your legs. You felt the thick head of a cock running through your folds as it inched its way inside of you, stopping momentarily as it reached halfway. Two small taps to your abdomen prompted you to give your next guess.

“Freddie.” Was all you could get out, still breathless from your last orgasm.

“Good girl.” He spoke thrusting his hips forward to fully fill you. He slowly began fucking you, rolling his hips at the perfect rhythm, you could feel your walls clamping down on him. Your next orgasm was already quickly building.

Your mouth fell agape as soft whines left you, your hands gripped the sheets below you, trying to find something to ground you. A firm grip met your throat causing your eyes to roll back in your head behind the makeshift blindfold. You could recognize George’s touch as he spoke directly to Fred, “Do you think she has proven her point, or should we keep going?”

“Keep going.” You pleased under his touch; Fred chuckled above you.

“As she wishes.” Fred responded, then swiftly pulled his cock out of you, once again leaving you feeling empty.

A set of hands lifted your hips, as a pillow was propped under your hips angling them upwards.

“Tell us what you really want.” They spoke in unison. “Come on, use your words for us.”

You felt nervous to admit what you truly needed in this moment, “I-I need both of you.”

In one swift motion George pushed himself into you, his hips slamming into yours. You were on the brink of overstimulation, and it felt so good. “Georgie!”

Even this fucked out you could tell them apart. “God damn, even after my brother has been in here fucking you senseless, you’re still so god damn tight.” He pulled his hips back slightly, slamming back into you, rolling his hips in a circular motion.

You felt Fred approach the side of the bed turning your head towards him, you opened your mouth willingly.  The heavy head of his cock fell on your tongue before he reached up to pull your blind fold off. “I need those eyes on me baby.”

Gripping the base of his cock, you kept your eyes locked on his. Enjoying how intensely he was watching your every move, you pressed slow wet kisses up the base to the tip. His jaw fell slack, his eyebrows furrowed together, “oh fuck…” left him just loud enough for you to hear. You wrapped your lips around the tip, pulling in the salty but sweet taste.

George continued to fuck into you at a rapid pace, causing you to jolt forward, pushing Fred’s cock deeper into your mouth. You moaned around his thick length as Fred began fucking into your mouth, both thrusting in unison with one another. You felt their hands roaming your body as they used you completely. You fought to keep your eyes up at Fred as, yet another orgasm rushed through your system.

Fred and Georges hips both hurried to catch their own climaxes, as they reveled in the way you felt around them.

“That’s our good girl, taking us so well.” They spoke.

Fred’s hips faltered first, pushing as deep as he could into your mouth as hot ribbons of his cum poured down your throat. He pulled out leaving a string of saliva and cum falling from you. Georges hands met your thighs pushing your legs back further to gain better access. His hips pounded into you rapidly, you moaned loudly as he continued.

“Fuck, I am about to fill this pretty pussy baby, are you ready?” He asked.

You nodded up at him, unable to form words at this point. George pushed his hips flush with yours cumming deeply within you before collapsing above you.

You laid there a limp, dripping mess, fighting to catch your breath. Unable to move or open your eyes at this point. After a few moments you felt two sets of hands on you, warm wash cloths being run up your legs, cleaning you gently. The twins worked in unison to pull clean pajamas over you. George repositioning you as Fred changed the sheets around you, tucking you in snuggly. A gentle kiss being pressed against either temple by each of them, before letting into the exhaustion falling asleep.

***

The twins had allowed you to sleep most of the next morning, only awakening to the sound of their banter from the other room. You opened your eyes to find a steaming cup of your favorite tea on the bedside table waiting for you. Making your way to your feet you were met with the undeniable ache in your thighs and hips. You took a moment to find your balance before tiptoeing your way to the living room. You did not want to disrupt them as they were deep, you turned back around making your way to the bathroom. A bubble bath in that tub sounded amazing right now, they could come find you when they were done.

You slid your way into the warm water, your muscles already thanking you for the relief. The aroma of the bath oil filling your senses as you sunk lower below the bubbles. Resting your head back on the tub you sat looking up at the ceiling, a blush filling your cheeks reminiscing about the events of the night before. Your hand reached up to grasp the necklace from the twins, you could never deny how much they loved you. Nor could you deny how deeply you loved them in return. Nothing could have prepared you for the relationship between the three of you, but you were so grateful for everything they have done for you.

Dipping your head below the water, you ran your hands through your hair before resurfacing. Opening your eyes you were shocked to find you were no longer within the bathroom, looking around you could have sworn you were back at Hogwarts, but the walls looked crumbled and worn. A blue hue coated your sight, your mind quickly flashed back to your divination classes, you were having a vision. You had not had a vision since you dropped the class, why now? You stepped out of the water onto the marble flooring, grateful your robe was still draped over the edge of the tub, wrapping yourself with it. You were in the basement of the castle; groups of students ran past you without being able to see or hear you.

You made your way deeper through the halls, searching for a reason as to why you had been brought here. A commotion to your right caught your attention, it was Fred and Percy. You watched closely as they fought side by side. Percy said something you could not hear, causing Fred to laugh, as he turned to respond to Percy, a large explosion rang out. As the smoke cleared you saw Fred lying on the ground not moving.

“No!” You screamed out, running to his side. As you approached him, a blue mist overtook your vision, only clearing to bring you into the great hall. You saw yourself laying across Fred’s lifeless form, sobbing into his chest. George was holding onto Ron, both sobbing as Molly sat behind Fred on the floor brushing his hair back. The look on George’s face was unlike anything you had ever seen. You could not bring yourself to look at Fred’s face, his hands covered in scrapes and dirt.

The version of you in the vision quickly jumped to your feet, you took off running back into the battle. George calling out for you begging you to stop, you completely ignored his pleading. You followed yourself into the courtyard, watching as you dueled with multiple death eaters, each of them finding the same fate at your hand. Tears streamed down your face as you battled fiercely against the others. After nearly a dozen death eaters were strewn across the ground around you, you fell to your knees. An earth-shattering scream left you as you clutched your chest.

The blue mist took over your sight, your breath quickened terrified of what you would see next. You were at the burrow, standing in front of George who looked absolutely shattered.

“You can’t leave me! Please don’t do this!” he rang out.

“George I can not do this anymore! I can not continue to look at you and see his face every day. It is destroying me!”

“I have already lost my brother, please don’t walk away from me. Without you both, I have nothing! I love you, have I not proven this?”

“I love you too, more than you can ever understand Georgie, but I can’t do this anymore.” You watched as you walked away from George.

Once again, the blue mist covered your eyesight, once again finding yourself at the burrow. Your hair was shorter, you were sat in the living room, Ginny sat on one side of you, Molly on the other. Arthur stood at the window his hand covering his mouth as he watched out the window silently. Ginny holding your hand seemingly consoling you, Molly brushed your hair back.

“He’s coming.”  Arthur spoke. A look of panic washed over your face as you looked up at Ginny.

“Don’t worry, we will stay with you.” She reassured you.

George walked in the front door, seeing Arthur first, “what is that look about?” He asked, not yet noticing your presence on the couch.

“Hey Georgie.” Your shaky voice rang out.

All the color drained from his face as he turned to you, “What are you doing here?”

“I knew I shouldn’t have come.” You said to Molly, tears welling in your eyes.

Arthur’s hand clamped down on George’s shoulder, “You are going to hear her out.”

“She abandons me when I need her most, disappears for months, and I should hear her out? You’ve gone mad.”

“George Weasley, I know that I raised you better than that. Now you listen to what she has to say.” Molly spoke sternly as she stood.

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Fine, you want the floor, you have it.”

You shared a look with Ginny as she helped you to your feet, Georges eyes fell to your swollen abdomen. Shock flushed through his features as his eyes flashed between Arthur and Molly. Arthur nodding at him.

“You’re pregnant?” He asked, his tone softening.

You nodded, unable to fully meet his gaze. “It would seem that the last night the three of us shared before… before we all lost Fred, was a bit more productive than we thought.”

“Is it- who’s is it?” He was frozen in place, not sure what answer he was looking for.

“Doctors say there is no way to know for sure.” You answered.

“When did you find out?”

“A couple weeks after I left.” George opened his mouth to respond, Ginny shot him a glance telling him that he needed to let you finish. “I didn’t know what to do, the loss of Fred nearly buried me right with him, the hurt of everything that happened made me so angry. Looking at you I was constantly reminded of him, which slowly became too much for me. Turns out that on top of the grief and loss, I was also experiencing the mood swings thanks to these two.” You rubbed your stomach.

“These two?” George was sure his knees were going to give out from below him.

You chuckled slightly, “Yeah, seems the twin gene only was passed on.”

Looking back up you were met with George standing in front of you, “So, what does it mean that you are back?”

“I am going to leave that up to you, I miss you so much, leaving was a mistake. I can understand if you hate me, if you want nothing to do with me or the babies, but I had to tell you. I am sorry it took me so long.”

He reached out to touch your stomach, pausing nervously. You grabbed his shaky hand, closing the distance between you. He smiled weakly as tears began streaming down his face.

The blue mist cleared pulling you back into the tub. You were gasping for air as you attempted to regain your composure. You hurried out of the water, pulling a towel around yourself. Everything you had been shown had happened so fast, you could barely comprehend everything you saw. You hurried your way back down the hall to find the twins. They were still deep in conversation, your presence pulling their attention. Concern rushed over them as they noted your panicked expression, both rushing to your side.

“What happened?” Fred asked, looking you over.

Gripping onto his shirt, you buried your face into his chest breaking down into tears. His arms wrapped around you protectively. George moved behind you to go check the bathroom for any signs of what had happened.

He returned shaking his head at his brother, “Sweet girl, please talk to us.”

Between choked sobs, “I- had a v-vision.”

“You’re back now, its okay.” They said in unison.

You knew you could not tell them what you had seen, but you also knew you had to do something to change it. You would not be losing either of them, no matter what it cost.

[inaris-mage-of-storms]

}{ I Found Love Where It Wasn't Supposed To Be }{ An Empires S1 Scwhip AU }{ Content warning for suicidal thoughts. }{ next part }{

Tyrant.

Madman.

Demon sympathizer.

Scott sighed. Or he thought he did; the wind snatched away his breath so thoroughly he couldn't really tell. It stung what little skin was exposed on his face, but the sharpest part of it was the way he could hear his people's complaints in its howls.

He'd tried his hardest, these last three years, and Rivendell was well on its way to...maybe not a full recovery, but as full a recovery as any empire would have been able to manage given the circumstances. Sure, it had meant he had to make some less than popular decisions, but his kingdom was stronger because of it. His people were sheltered and fed while so much of the rest of the world shivered and starved. But because he also extended one hand in forgiveness to a former enemy and the other in offering to former allies, his efforts were for naught.

You should have died, your majesty.

Now the wind sounded like his longest-serving advisor. You should have died, the old man had told him, and Scott knew it wasn't an expression of surprise, but an admonishment. That the Rune Blade failed to kill him wasn't a miracle, but a mistake.

The wind and snow grew so cold it chilled even him, and Scott smiled bitterly. Well. No one could say he wasn't one to correct his mistakes. Let the blizzard take what the blade couldn't.

There was a cave near the top of the desolate mountain Scott climbed now, one only he knew about. Though calling it a cave was being generous; it was closer to a sheltered nook amidst the rocks for all the space it offered, barely large enough for a single elf in a traveling cloak. If he'd carried any supplies besides the waterskin and dagger tied to his belt, it would have been a tight fit. As it was, he knew from experience that there was just enough space to curl up inside and ice himself in. The water with him would last a day, and when it ran out he would have a few more after that to lie alone with his thoughts before it became absolutely necessary to leave in order to seek out food and fresh water.

Scott squinted through the blowing snow, finally able to spot his destination. His plan was the same as it had been the last two times he came here. If he was meant to keep going, the handful of days in isolation would be enough to clear his thoughts and let his resolve return. If he was meant to keep ruling, he would find the motivation to leave the cave. And if he wasn't...well. Xornoth was always complaining that Scott didn't get enough sleep. A very long rest in a frozen tomb should at least rid him of the bags under his eyes.

Despite his macabre jest, the thought of his sibling was the only regret that tugged at Scott's heart and whispered that this might be a mistake. Despite their attempts at atonement, despite it being their magic that brought Scott back from the brink of death, and despite their invaluable assistance in Rivendell's recovery after the cataclysm, the empire shunned them for their sins. It was only a hotly contested decree from Scott that allowed Xornoth to return to the land that had exiled them. Scott was the only one in all of Rivendell to speak to them or even acknowledge their presence most days. If he didn't return, they would be entirely alone.

But even that wasn't enough to cut through the dark fog that weighed down his thoughts. He'd spent so long working himself to the bone for his empire, and for the empires of his friends - the ones that had survived, anyway. But like Xornoth, Scott was utterly alone except for the awkward, fragile bond with his sibling. Pearl was dead. Lizzie had been found wandering, nearly unresponsive, and every second of Joel's time was spent caring for her. Everyone else was just...gone. Even Jimmy had disappeared, and Scott's stomach churned with unease every time he let himself think about what could possibly have prevented his betrothed from coming back to him. Some months ago an apologetic Fwhip had returned from wherever he and Gem had fled to, swearing that he would help the survivors of his empire rebuild. But then he vanished again, and Scott's hopes of having one remaining ally vanished with him.

Once, Scott had exiled himself to a frozen mountain to be alone. Now, he exiled himself to a frozen mountain because he was alone. He was so, so lonely these days. The end of the world had strengthened so many bonds across the empires as people clung desperately to what remained, but it had severed all of his. Every effort he'd put into finding the missing rulers came up empty. His advisors questioned every decision he made with suspicion, and far too many of his people looked at him with fear and anger.

He'd done all he could, and then some. There was nothing left to do now except this. Scott squeezed into the cave, and with the smallest curl of his fingers, a wall of ice swept across the entrance and cut him off from the blizzard. From the world. Scott sighed, his back to the wall, then slid down to the ground. He was really, truly -

- not alone?

His hand brushed something that was neither stone nor snow, and he looked down with a start. The ice was so thick that it turned the midday sun into twilight, and he could barely make out the shape huddled into the corner. Even so, the scales he felt under his palm as he ran his hand over the form were unmistakable. In a secret cave near the top of an uninhabited mountain in the middle of a blizzard, Scott found himself in the company of a dragon.

It took only seconds for Scott's shock and confusion to turn into worry. The mountains of Rivendell were colder than those of any other empire by far, and this was one of the coldest. Dragons, no matter what type, were by nature creatures of heat. Larger ones could rely on their own strength and magic to keep warm in chilly environments, but this one was small. It was almost as small as Gem's hatchling, despite what seemed to be the proportions of an adult, and its breath was faint as it slept. No warmth emanated from its dark scales; it was as cold as the ice that encased them both.

Cursing his decision to not bring a tinder box or even a small flint, Scott bundled the dragon into his robes and against his body before he could even think about it. Maybe, like him, the creature had come out here to die. But maybe it hadn't. Careless as he was with his own life, Scott refused to be careless with the lives of others. And certainly not now, when so few lives remained. Every one of them was more precious than ever.

The ice crumbled easily with a flick of his hand, and Scott had never been so grateful for the strides he'd made with his magic these last three years. Even the wind was weakening, though he couldn't tell if it was coincidence or conscious effort. It didn't matter; there was no time to think about it. Scott stepped out of his intended tomb, unfurled snowy wings from under his cloak, and raced toward the warmth of home.

}{

Warmth.

That was all Fwhip had the strength to be aware of, that smallest bit of warmth against his frozen body. He didn't know what it was or where it came from, but he didn't have it in him to care. He'd been so, so cold for so, so long, and now there was warmth again. The source didn't matter.

Where was he? He couldn't remember. He'd been attacked...somewhere. By someone. He was vaguely aware of that, but no details came to mind. Someone versed in magic, surely; he could feel the invisible chains of a curse wrapped tightly around his own magic. Around his body, binding his form to something small. Around his throat, binding his ability to communicate.

It didn't matter, not right now. Fwhip would find the strength to be furious later. He was just grateful that there would be a later, thanks to this small spark of warmth. For now, Fwhip allowed darkness to keep its hold on him a little longer as he slipped back into slumber.

}{ next part }{

[climbthemountain2020]

What Are You Doing New Year's Eve? - Ch. 3

Ch.3/5 | Ao3

Elucien Holiday Fic for the @acotargiftexchange

I forgot to post my art yesterday, so you get a triple surprise today, @itsybitsybluesy <3

NSFW in big, red letters! :)

Lucien POV

Lucien woke up with the sun in his eyes and his cock in his hand. It was late, later than he normally slept, and the night spent drinking with Jurian while Elain and Vassa had gone into town to help prepare the village for the coming celebrations was not doing him any favors. 

He was hard as he gripped himself, his hand tight around the base, even in sleep. He felt as though he were about to burst from his own skin, every second bringing him closer to potentially just collapsing from the tension of it all. Beron hadn’t been able to kill him. Neither could his brothers or Amarantha. But Elain and her sugared lips, the smell of her arousal swimming in the air between them, might just do him in. 

Here lies Lucien Vanserra, died of perpetual edging. 

He lazily stroked up once and then again, closing his eyes as he tried to focus. Tried to imagine it was Elain’s soft, delicate hands wrapped around him instead of his own. He was so achingly hard that it hurt, the urge to drive into something so overwhelming he could barely see.

A crash from downstairs told him it was time to stop moping with his hand in his pants. With all the willpower that he still possessed, Lucien removed his hand from his undershorts, pulled up to sitting on the edge of the bed, and stretched. Could he dip just his lower body into a bath of ice cold water? Perhaps that was the best course of action. 

He rolled his eyes as another crash sounded downstairs, accompanied this time by the sounds of shouting and annoyed voices. Jurian and Vassa must be awake, then. They sounded annoyed, but honestly it could just be a normal conversation between the two of them. They were at each other’s throats as often as they were under the sheets. And against the shed. And on the couches. 

Lucien grimaced. 

He did love living here with his friends, but he’d also learned what to expect. He hoped they were behaving with Elain around. 

When he finally emerged downstairs, the two had moved to the kitchen, finishing the remnants of breakfast. Jurian’s hand was on Vassa’s back, and it looked like he was comforting her. 

“I’m just so sad. I was really looking forward to it.” 

Lucien grabbed a plate of eggs and bacon and slid into the eating nook. “What’s going on?”

“Something happened in the village. A shipment was missed, and now the whole village might be going without their Christmas ceremony.” 

Vassa typically ruled from afar at their house in the woods. She returned to the castle on the other side of the village a week each month, Jurian in tow, to deal with necessities that couldn’t be dealt with at a distance. 

This did not seem like something that could be dealt with at a distance.

“We were supposed to go pick the tree today.” The disappointment is Vassa’s face was clear. Lucien knew full well how hard the past few years had been for Vassa, and he knew how much she’d been looking forward to a real, normal holiday in her own home. 

Jurian rubbed his hand over her shoulder. “It’s alright, love. We’ll go to the castle, sort out what’s happened, and be back by tonight.”

“But the tree–”

“We can get the tree. I can help Lucien.” He nearly jumped out of his skin at Elain’s sweet voice so close behind him. He’d been so focused on the conversation, the steady beat of her heart so close the past few days, that he hadn’t heard it getting louder. It was hard to sneak up on Lucien, but Elain continued to in more ways than one. 

“This could take all day.”

“That’s alright. I didn’t have any plans. Did you, Lucien?” Her sweet voice aimed at him sent shivers down his spine. 

“No. None for me.”

Vassa’s eyes searched them both, wide from hope and relief, then narrowing with mischief and understanding. “Perfect, then. Elain and Lucien will get the tree, and we can all decorate it tonight. Thank you both so much for doing this.”

Elain smiled. “What else were we going to do all day?”

Lucien could certainly think of a few things. 

+++

The woods were quiet as they trekked out into them, a light snow falling, but not yet cold enough for it to stick to anything but the branches and leaves. The way Elain kept looking around captivated him. It wasn’t like she never saw snow in Velaris, but Lucien doubted Elain spent much time out in the wilds surrounding the city alone. It was peaceful here, nothing but the occasional chirping of cardinals through the quiet air. The forest floor was coated in fallen pine needles, muffling the sound so everything seemed cushioned, quiet, contained, and just for them. 

The flakes of snow caught in her long hair and eyelashes and sat for just seconds before melting. With her bright eyes and flushed cheeks, Lucien thought she’d never been more beautiful. He sent a small burst of warmth her way, willing it to encircle her as they walked. It was simple magic, just parlor tricks really, but it was something small he could do for her out here. He saw her relax, her shoulders dropping as they continued on. 

“I like when you do that.” The simple admission had him fighting for composure.

“Do what?” He grinned when she looked back at him with a knowing expression. 

“I didn’t know it was you, at first. I thought, perhaps, it was an enchantment on Feyre’s gardens to help keep me warm. It wasn’t until the day you saw me pulling the brambles from the crocuses that I realized it had been you all along.”

It had been you all along.

He played the words again in his mind. It hadn’t been what she meant, but the sound of it sounded so good in his mind, he’d wondered if he was hallucinating.   

“It’s the least I could do.” She hummed in response, pressing forward into the trees. The Human Lands were not like Prythian, Lucien had found. Their evergreens grew in specific areas deep in the forest. Last year, Vassa and Jurian had explained to him that trekking deep into the woods to find a tree was part of the fun. He wasn’t sure he bought it. 

It was , however, gorgeous out today. The snow fell lightly around them, and he loved how his lungs burned a bit with a deep inhale. Lucien had grown up in the woods, though it rarely snowed in Autumn, and he did love a good walk through the trees. Sometimes, even after he’d moved to Spring, he’d be in the woods and think he heard the trees speaking to him. His apathetic nature told him to brush it off as his mind playing tricks on him, but the Autumn woods he grew up in felt older than time itself, and reminded him that there was also magic within them that ancient, too. It was never wise to discount anything, even in the Human Lands. He tried to listen closely, see what secrets the pines might have for him as they were slowly but steadily covered with snow, but these specific trees seemed to tell him the same thing he already knew as he passed the same copse for the third time: they were lost.

He was attempting to lead the way, keep to the path that he thought he remembered from last year. His instincts told him that they were close, and he could smell the very specific type of pine in the air, but he had slowed a bit to try and track it. 

“Are you sure you aren't lost?” Elain looked at him coyly as she asked, teasing him a bit as she did. 

“I’m not lost,” he deadpanned. He’d be mortified to be lost in the woods. A son of Autumn, twisted up somehow in the forest. 

“Do you know where we’re going then?” 

“Elain, I know what the definition of lost is. I know where we are.” Lucien did not know where they were. 

“Oh?” The amusement in her voice was barely contained. He thought, with anyone else, he might be annoyed. But this teasing back and forth between them was so new, and so special, he couldn’t bear to think of her stopping. “You could have fooled me.”

The image of him taking her over his knee flashed through his mind unbidden. He wanted to spank the sass out of her until she saw white. Begged for reprieve, begged for more. He had to shake his head to dislodge the image, playing it off as shaking the snow from his locks. When he looked back, she was still, and her eyes were on him.

“What?”

“What are you thinking about?” She lifted the corner of her mouth into a smirk as she asked, a single eyebrow quirking up.  

The image of her bare-assed across his lap screaming his name into the open air flashed through his mind. 

“N-nothing.” He stuttered. Lucien stuttered. Lucien was nothing if not well spoken, and she’d caught him off guard enough that she’d made him stutter. 

Elain’s grin reached from ear to ear, as though she were seeing directly into his mind and daring him to lie. “Mmhmm.” 

She turned, digging in her satchel for the water she’d brought. Lucien watched her undo the lid, pull it to her lips, and take a drink. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. He turned slightly to adjust himself in his pants outside of her carefully watching eyes before he got his own water. 

He’d never felt so uncontrolled with anyone before, Elain’s every action setting him adrift. Lucien was always in control, always the flirt. He was never tongue tied or nervous, but with Elain, he wanted to do everything perfectly. After the moment in the kitchen yesterday, things had hit a tipping point. Elain had made herself clear, and he wondered if that wasn’t enough permission to move forward. He’d said he’d let her lead, but hadn't she? Twice now in as many days she’d sent him an open invitation with her eyes, her lips, her fingers, even through the bond. Perhaps it was Lucien’s turn. 

He tried to meet her eyes again, but they were trained on his body as he leaned against the wide trunk of a snowy oak. 

Elain shivered, though Lucien suspected this time that it was not from the cold. 

“Are you cold, Elain?” He purposefully drew out her name, his tongue flicking the last syllable delicately as her eyes whipped back to his, that delicious blush spreading across her skin for him. 

“I’m fine.” She was breathless, caught in the act. Lucien felt some of that control back in his hands. If he wanted this, he needed to push her. She was always free to refuse him; it would be nothing new. And as always, he would respect her wishes. But Lucien needed to know, and to know, he had to prod her a little. It was now or never.

“I’m sure you could set a fire, if we needed one.” The words were out. He watched her expression change from confusion, to understanding, to worry, to embarrassment, to defensiveness. 

“What did you just say?” 

Gotcha. 

“I said,” he took two careful steps closer to her across the small clearing. “I’m sure that if we needed a fire, then you would be the one to call.”

Her eyes flashed at the words. “I’m certain I don’t know what you mean.” 

“I know it’s you, Elain.” He’d suspected when she was late for Solstice, her heart pounding and her normally light scent peppered with hints of smoke and sulfur. She hadn’t smelled of someone else when he’d scented her in jealousy, but she had smelled like a puff of wild flame and fireworks. When everyone had panicked that night, her sense of calm, if not irritation, over the whole thing convinced him further.

She looked so indignant in front of him, like a child ready to stomp her foot. “How?”

His responding smile was wicked. “I didn’t, actually, but you just confirmed it for me.” 

Her eyes narrowed and rolled. 

“I felt you come in late on Solstice, then only a few hours later a new little event was discovered.” Something sparked in her eyes. Was it the attention someone had finally paid to her? Enough to track and unravel her adventurous little hobby?

After a moment of tense silence, her eyes locked on his in speculation, she threw up her hands. “I get bored, okay? Sometimes, they’ll just leave me for days. To cook, to clean, to garden. It’s like they see right through me. Sometimes I think they’d walk right through me if they could. It’s like I’m not even there.” 

The smile fell from Lucien’s face then with the sadness welling so clearly beneath her frustration. Elain was pacing around the clearing in front of him as she spoke, gesturing wildly. He’d never seen her so emotional. Lucien had only meant to provoke her a bit, to have a little fun. He didn’t expect her to tell him that she felt invisible. 

“You set the fires so they would notice you?”

She stopped, her hands coming up to rub furiously at her eyes. 

“Yes? No. I mean, I don’t know. I don’t know!” 

She groaned in frustration, and he took a step closer to her, but she was already moving again. “It’s been so long since I felt like I had even a little control over my own life. Even before I was fae, every decision was made for me. The first time it happened, it was an accident, but the thrill of it was electrifying. I felt alive for the first time since I could remember. So then, I thought I might try it again.” She turned quickly back to him, eyes pleading. “I never do it anywhere it would hurt someone. It’s just enough to feel like a little act of rebellion, a little something for me.”

“You don’t have very much just for yourself, do you?” The words seemed to break something in her. Her eyes met his, open wide and earnest, the most beautiful chestnut color set against the white of the falling snow and deep green of the woods around them. She’d finally stopped moving long enough for him to step closer to her, closing the space between them until he was barely an arm’s length away. 

“You saw something you wanted, and you took it. Didn’t you, my little firestarter?” Her breath caught, then, the shiver running down her body as she nodded, her eyes never leaving his. 

“I see you, Elain.” Her eyes rose back from his lips to his eyes, scrutinizing, hopeful, filled with the same need that had been consuming Lucien alive for what felt like an eternity. 

Her voice was quiet and breathless as she answered. “And what do you see when you do?”

He chanced running his fingers down a lock of her hair, feeling it smooth and silky in his fingers. When he reached the end, he flicked it. 

“I see someone learning to act on her feelings. Someone putting herself out there to be bold when her heart tells her to after years of being convinced to do the opposite.” He heard Elain’s breath catch in her throat as she looked at him, her eyes practically unblinking as she stared at his face. He allowed his fingers to glance up her neck, tracing across her jaw next to cup her face. His hand dwarfed her, and he liked the sight of it. 

“I see someone who has, despite the odds, taken hand after hand she’s been dealt and begun to turn it into something she can call her own. I see someone kind, and smart, and brave–someone who is so funny and quick when she wants to be that it takes my breath away.” Elain looked as though she couldn’t tell whether she wanted to laugh or cry, every emotion running across her wide open face as he watched. 

“What do I see when I look at you, Elain? I see everything.” 

Without wasting a single additional moment, Elain’s fingers wrapped in Lucien’s shirt, her grip surprisingly strong. He met her halfway, their lips crashing together like the meeting of thunderheads. The energy crackled between them, her hands lacing into his hair and tugging while he pulled her impossibly closer to him. The kiss was messy, filled with need, as tongues and lips and teeth crashed together in the binding of them. She tasted faintly like cinnamon and the radiant light of morning.

Her arousal was in the air around them, mixing with his in a scent so intoxicating that it nearly took him to his knees. The bond was alive with the relief of years, the touch of them finally breaking that dam of willpower that he’d curated so carefully. Lucien felt wild, entirely unhinged. He wanted to claim her. He wanted her to claim him. He hoped the bond devoured them whole in these snowy woods. 

Her lips smiled against his as he walked her back against the tree, her body pliant and lovely beneath his calloused hands. She nipped at his lip and it nearly took his soul straight from his body, the pull of her ripping him out of his own mind. 

She pulled back, her eyes not hazy with lust but sparkling with excitement and hunger. She was incredible. She was magnificent. She took his breath from his lungs and made him uncaring as to whether or not he ever took another, so long as he died in her arms.

“You can have me, Lucien, if you can find me.” It took a moment for the words to register. 

“Find you?” She was pinned against the tree, bracketed by his arms. He heard a twig snap a few feet behind them and turned to assess the danger, finding nothing, but when he turned back, she’d disappeared. He saw her duck behind a tree a few feet away, her maroon cloak trailing behind her as her voice called out. 

“Yes, if you can catch me, I’m yours.” He crept closer to the tree as she flitted to another. He liked this game, and he loved the chase. “But I’m not certain you’re a good enough tracker for that.”

Lucien’s blood flared, the need to be competitive surging in his veins. He realized how silly that was; Elain was simply bopping through the trees for fun. If he wanted to catch her, he could. But he liked that she was playing with him, and her comments were only spurring him on, something primal in him awakening at it. 

He could hear the echoes of her voice still as he moved soundlessly across the ground. He was nearly upon the tree she’d hidden behind, just a step away when she spoke again. 

“I suppose I need a mate who can–” Her words cut off as he swung around the tree, blocking her in with his arms on each side of her as she let out a little yelp. “–catch me.” The words rushed out on an exhale as he smiled wickedly. 

“If I catch you in these woods, Elain, I am fucking you against a tree.” He saw the moment her breath caught, heard her heart speed to an impossible rate, nearly passed out as the mischievous smile spread across her delicate features. She leaned in, her hands on his chest, until her mouth was right next to his ear, the whisper of her breath on his skin making him feel not wholly fae, but something animal. 

The words were a whisper, a teasing breath in the cold air. “Catch me if you can.”

And then Elain winnowed from within his arms, and Lucien nearly crashed face first into the tree. 

He hadn’t known Elain even could winnow. 

She was extraordinary. 

 

Elain POV 

Elain was sprinting, her footsteps quiet against the lush forest floor but her exhilarated breath panting out into the frigid air. She was giddy with the excitement, nearly giggling as she ran, feeling as though she might combust. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had such fun. She felt wild, free– untamed– for once in her life. 

She could hear Lucien’s heart beating over her own; he wasn’t far behind– the knowledge pushed her to run harder. Not that she’d ever run full out anywhere as a human since outgrowing childhood, but this new body let her push herself far past anything she’d done before. She felt so fast, so wild with the power of it. 

Elain ducked below branches and jumped over fallen trees, a hysterical laugh bubbling out of her every so often as the wind whipped her loose hair around her face. Every so often, she thought she heard the crackling of twigs and crunching of leaves not far behind her, but she refused to lose time to look, pressing ahead with a cheek-splitting grin. 

No one ever played with her like this. She didn’t even remember a time when Nesta had when they were just children. Maybe, for a time, with Feyre, but they’d both been so young she’d never have remembered it. But Lucien would. Lucien would entertain her interests no matter what they might be, she knew it. He had no expectations for her to fill, no impossible standards of what he thought a woman–female– should do or be. Lucien was perhaps the first person she’d ever encountered who fully supported Elain just being…Elain. 

The thought was almost as freeing as the running itself. This was the feeling she’d been missing–this heady excitement, this wild rush of freedom. There was no mold for who Elain needed to be here, she could just exist to enjoy things. To have fun . 

And Lucien made the chase fun. He had for years now, his devotion never once wavering, his interest never put off as she recovered, never faltering as she found her way to who she was after her roles in two vastly different worlds. He let her reconcile and process by herself, but he was never far behind. He had chased her gently, supportively, and now he was chasing her in earnest. 

And Elain was loving it.

She wanted him to catch her– to finally, truly, and fully catch her– so that she could finish falling. 

 

Lucien POV

He could smell her, her excitement, her fear, her joy, her arousal.

Some primal part of Lucien had taken over, was fighting for full control, and he had half a mind to let it. It was as though there were some great beast inside him, stretching and roaring to be let loose, and the temptation to let it happen was overwhelming him. 

For years, Lucien had tried to be gentle, had tried to treat Elain like the fine china everyone else did. But it occurred to him somewhere along the way that Elain had lived her whole human life that way. And at some point in the last few years of being fae, she had decided that wasn't what she wanted anymore. 

He wanted her. And based on the closeness of her beating heart, he was going to have her soon.

His senses were all on alert, the scent of her forging a trail through his very being, sizzling his nerves and setting him alight with an unending burst of need. He felt as though he might combust if he stopped running, stopped tracking her. His mate. His Elain. Something had shifted between them, and the bond recognized that, throbbing at the thrill of it. 

Lucien stopped and took a deep breath, closing his eyes and feeling the heavy flakes of snow falling on them. He reached into his chest and let that glowing bond guide him, grinning wickedly as he sent himself winnowing to where she was. 

Then Lucien was gone, stepping through time and space to his mate, slamming into her, wrapping his arms around her, and swinging her around to pin her to a tree. 

Her shriek was one of joy, of surprise, and as he looked down into her wide eyes, he could see her elation. 

“Cheater,” she exhaled, breathless, her chest rapidly rising and falling against his. His eyes roved hungrily over her face, seeking permission, and finding hers granting it. It was clear to him that she’d denied herself long enough. 

“I think you like that I caught you.”

“You can’t prove anything,” she teased back, the smile on her face wild, the cheek in her voice nearly sending Lucien to his knees. 

“Oh, I think I can.” Lucien ruched the skirts of her dress in his hands, bunching the sides slowly until he could feel the smooth expanse of her skin beneath. She inhaled against him, and he checked again to gauge her reaction. The nod was miniscule, but the wild, untethered desperation in it was indisputable. She wanted him just as much as he wanted her. The thought was such a relief to Lucien that he briefly wondered if he was dreaming. 

“I can feel your yearning. Did you know that?” 

She shuddered against him at the words. His fingers wandered slowly up her leg to her hip to the juncture of her thighs. He brushed a knuckle lightly along the seam of her underwear to find them soaked, Elain’s head tipping back against the tree behind her as she breathed deeply through her nose. He leaned in, his face finding the meeting of her neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply the way he’d so often wanted and allowing his eyes to roll back at the scent of her so close and unencumbered. 

“You smell incredible,” he snarled softly, the words coming from the chaotic rush in his head. Into his hair, Elain whimpered, the noise shooting straight down and into Lucien’s cock. He pressed kisses up the column of her neck, pausing to nibble behind her ear and feel the delicious arch of Elain’s body into his own. He pressed his hips into her, no mistaking the arousal that was now pressing against her stomach as their mouths came back together, not joining, but brushing lightly against each other. 

“Say you want me, Elain.” He barely recognized the authority in his voice, the demand, the underlying pleading. He ground against her again and another low whine pitched from her, doing nothing to ease the aching need he felt. 

“I want you,” she whispered, her lips grazing against his. “Now.” And her delicate hands pulled him to her with a strength Lucien hadn’t been aware of, gripping him with a near-violent tug until his lips met hers again. 

The kiss was electric, even more so than the first, her mouth opening to his the second their lips fully met, her tongue sliding across his lips. She had buried her fingers in his hair at some point, holding him to her as though he’d ever let go. She tasted sweet, the feminine flavor of her mixed with the sweetness of the confectioner’s items that she was always making as their mouths melded together. The bond was practically screaming in Lucien’s chest, demanding that he make her his. He refused to take her entirely like a barbarian. 

When he pulled back, his body screamed in protest, and the whine drawn forth from Elain was almost enough to make him pick her up and never let go. But Lucien was nothing if not a gentleman and courtier first, his primary concern right now being that Elain got off screaming before he put his cock anywhere near her. 

Elain gasped when he dropped to his knees, his hands never leaving her hips.

“What are you doing?” 

“Tasting you,” he replied without hesitation, pushing her skirts back up again then reaching down to hoist her leg over his shoulder as he looked up to watch Elain’s furious blush spread. Her arousal sank around him like a heavy cloud, urging him on. 

“We can’t do this here, Lucien.” The words were breathless, but her eyes were sharp, curious, asking . 

“And why not?” He turned his head in to press a kiss into her pretty thigh, delighted to find a light dusting of freckles here too, fighting the urge to bite lightly into the skin. 

Later . 

“It’s not proper, I–” 

He laughed against her, moving to press hot kisses higher and higher until she tilted her head back against the tree again, closing her eyes and moaning low.

“You’re hardly a proper lady anymore, Elain,” he teased her, thinking she’d feign indignancy, swat him perhaps. But when he looked up to behold her, looking thoroughly debauched where he held her against the tree, hair wild around her flushed face and eyes blown wide with lust, she smiled instead.

“Prove it,” she demanded, and Lucien was entirely lost. 

He pulled her undergarments to the side roughly and tasted her, the need so strong that he couldn’t fight it another second. He didn’t want to play, didn’t want to tease. It was a miracle he could form a single cogent thought as his lips closed around her clit, swirling through the taste of her. Distantly, he heard her gasp loudly above him, the sound turning into a low dulcet moan from her perfect lips as he sucked gently. He reached behind her to take a handful of her ass, feeling her begin to shake as he squeezed and pulled her closer. 

He licked over her languidly, despite the ferocity inside him telling him to devour everything she was. He swirled tight circles over her as she threaded her fingers through his hair, keeping him close to her as though anything except an act of the gods could keep him from her now. She bucked against his face, the movement causing him to throb painfully while he smiled against her. He inserted a finger into her, then another, the tightness of her making him spin out to the remaining threads of his sanity. 

She was so wet for him, so tight, so perfect . 

Elain was just as lost as he was, the pulsing of the bond in his chest uninhibited, shotting bursts of her arousal at him and driving him wild as she fucked herself down on his fingers. Her hands gripped his hair so hard that his scalp tingled, and he thought that she could hurt him a million times over and he’d thank her for it.

With a strangled cry, she came hard, tightening around him so abruptly that he nearly finished in his pants like some sort of untrained boy. He stilled his breathing, alternating slow, intentional licks and kisses across her as she rode out the waves of her orgasm. Her leg fell down off his shoulder, boneless with pleasure, and Lucien withdrew his fingers from her, popping them into his mouth and licking every trace of her down. 

She watched him, chest heaving and entirely undone, like he’d just uncovered some sort of treasure. Lucien certainly felt like he had as he rose to stand. 

He kissed her roughly on the mouth, letting her taste herself on his lips. He startled when Elain snarled, the noise the last thing he’d ever expected from her lips as she pulled his body back to hers. 

“ Mine,” she growled roughly against him, and with that single word, Lucien lost hold of the last tether. 

 

Elain POV

Lucien’s eyes lit up as though illuminated by flame from within, the burning need so clear in his face that Elain felt it in her own chest. She felt powerful, wanted, cherished– every bit of him pressed against every bit of her. She could feel how hard he was, his need for her so apparent, and she’d never been so turned on in her life.

The bond in her chest was practically vibrating with their closeness, that unfulfilled need of years finally getting what it desired.

She was finally getting what she desired.

Lucien’s mouth on her skin felt like the most delicious sin. He was hers. Wholly hers. Because he wanted to be, because she was his, too.

The orgasm she’d just experienced was like nothing she’d ever felt in her life, entirely indescribable and overwhelming and unbelievable. She hadn’t come once with Graysen, the sex as disappointing as he had been in the end. And nothing at her own hands had ever held a candle to the ministrations of Lucien’s tongue. 

He ran his other hand up her leg, the dress lifting again on both sides, and grabbed her thighs, hoisting her against the broad oak tree in one sweeping movement while he groaned against her lips. She wanted to inhale the sound, bring it into her body and keep it there forever like a secret for just the two of them. His thumbs caressed the crease of her hips, the curves of her warm flesh filling his hands perfectly as he pressed against her. 

She reached down, long past the point of propriety or good sense, and began to fumble with his trousers.

“Are you a virgin?” He breathed the question into her. She wasn’t offended by it coming from Lucien– she knew he asked only to know the level of care he needed to take with her. Still, she nearly scoffed. 

Maybe, if you didn’t count the few disappointing trysts with Graysen from years ago, she supposed. “No, I’m not a virgin.”

Lucien growled against her, slamming her body back into the tree with renewed vigor that sent a shot of heat straight to her cunt. Their eyes met– his were filled with possession like she’d never seen, and it was doing something wild to her. He wanted her for himself, that much was clear, and she loved it. She craved more, so she said the words to egg him on.

“Make it so I only remember you, then.” Elain felt bold as she leaned forward to kiss him again, frantic energy pouring off between them. 

Why had she waited so long? 

His fingers strummed between her legs, a thumb rubbing over her, and she bucked against him on instinct. He grabbed the band of her underwear and pulled them aside, and his fingers slid through her easily as water. She unlaced his pants as quickly as she could and reached below the waist of them, feeling him beneath her as she brushed against his cock for the first time.

She froze. 

She hadn’t lied about not being a virgin– she and Graysen had been intimate a number of times. But none of her experiences had prepared her for what lay in her hand. Infuriatingly, Lucien was brimming with male pride at her reaction. She refused to be the blushing maiden, no matter how intimidated she was. 

She gripped him tightly and felt her own rush of smug satisfaction as he inhaled sharply at the action. He pinned her to the tree with his hips, removing his hand from her ass to tug his pants down further and giving Elain a full view of what she was working with. 

She didn’t think she’d ever been so aroused, the need so heavy and aching within her

The way her sisters spoke of sex had always confused her, the lacking feeling from her own experience leaving her jealous and frustrated.

But this? This she could see.

He stroked his fingers through her again. “Cauldron, Elain, you’re so wet for me.” The words were spoken on a desperate sigh as he thrust a finger into her again, working her open and readying her. She felt playful, she felt light, she felt wholly undone.

“And how do you know that’s all for you?” She was surprised at herself, the words coming from her crass and filthy. In her wildest dreams, she’d never imagined it, but the way he reacted to her sass, her bratty retorts, was making him double down his already wholly consuming efforts. She was thrilled by the way he reacted, adding a second finger to the mix and making her see stars as he curled them against some place inside her she’d never found on her own, despite all her exploration.

She cried out when he pulled his fingers back. She nearly yelped when he ripped her underwear entirely from her body, stuffing them into the pocket of his coat and grinning wolfishly back as he smeared her arousal down the length of him and placed himself within the cradle of her hips. Elain sighed and felt as though she was breaking brilliantly into a million small pieces as he pressed to her, his length gliding easily against her. He leaned forward again, kissing and nipping at her breasts.

“Lucien, please. ” 

He acquiesced, beyond teasing, beyond amusement, the bond riding him just as hard as it was her. He notched himself at her entrance, his crown pressed against her and leaving no space between them.

“Relax Elain, I’ve got you.” And she believed him. She’d never trusted anyone to take care of her the way she trusted Lucien, and she let her body relax into the feel of him. Here, now, she only felt him. The warmth of his chest beneath her hands, the trembling of his own hands on her hips. She was undoing him at the same time that he was undoing her, and after this, they would be rebuilt wholly different. Together. 

He pushed forward, her body accepting inch after inch as they kissed gently, intimately. After what seemed like lifetimes, Lucien was fully seated inside her. He shivered in her arms, the restraint he was using to hold back overwhelming her through the bond. She felt it in her chest, felt it in her mind. Every bit of it was her own as much as it was his. It wasn’t painful past a small sensation of stinging as she stretched around him, but she’d never felt so full. Together, they felt complete, and when he began to move within her, it punched the breath from her lungs entirely. 

They moved together, her hips tilting to meet his every thrust, tentatively then with more confidence as they found their rhythm. He snaked a hand between them again, his thumb finding that sensitive area that made her groan with pleasure, her hands winding around his neck to hold the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“Lucien…”

“Tell me you like it.”

Oh, gods, she did.

“Please, Lucien,” she moaned. She felt the orgasm climbing, incinerating the nerves down her spine as it grew and grew. It was a wave washing over a shore, and it was going to demolish her entirely, dragging whatever was left of her out into an open sea. 

“Say it,” he ground out, his thumb moving more quickly over her and making her see stars as his rhythm stuttered. 

“I like it, oh gods, Lucien please!” She cried out into the open air, no one but them around for miles to hear them. Then he kissed her, pouring every single bit of himself into a searing union that took her soul straight from her body. Elain was never going to be the same again, she knew. A final bite at her lower lip, and she exploded into a million fragments, the person she was before gone and replaced with something shining and blurry and entirely new. 

Lucien's thrusts lost rhythm entirely, his hips stuttering as he spilled into her with a great roar that seemed to shake the trees around him, as though the forest itself bowed around what they'd just done. 

As they wound down together, Lucien's forehead rested up on Elain’s chest while they panted, she tried to find the words that rattled around in her mind. They stayed just out of reach, unable to be caught and formed into sentences. What she wanted to say was that she didn't know sex could be so wonderful, fulfilling. She wanted to tell him she thought she'd found the missing piece of herself inside of him just now. She wanted to tell him, at least partly, that she was sorry about how long this has taken her, but she knew she'd needed to do it to get them here. 

She wanted to say all these things, but instead, she told him softly “I meant what I said before. You’re mine.” He pulled his face back to look at her, carefully, cautiously, recently. “And I am yours, Lucien. If you’ll still have me.” 

The kiss he pressed against her was so tender that, with the rush of everything else that had happened, it nearly brought her to tears. 

He had waited. Kindly, patiently, he had waited for her.

He was hers, and she was his. 

“As long as you’ll have me, Elain.”

She wanted to tell him that she hoped it was forever.

+++

Elain and Lucien returned to the estate as night was falling, the sun setting early now this near to the end of the year. They’d winnowed the last bit, holding their felled tree between them, hair mussed and giggling, giddy on the rush of each other. 

When they landed on the front steps, the door burst open from inside, letting a rush of warm air out to greet them. The firelight inside illuminated the silhouettes of Vassa and Jurian standing within the doorway. 

“Where have you been? We were so worried when we got home and you still weren’t back.” The two looked up from the steps outside, looked at each other, and then busted out laughing. 

“Covered head to toe in sap and smelling like sex,” Jurian commented, clapping Lucien on the shoulder, then turning to walk back inside. 

Vassa sighed, rolling her eyes and also turning back towards the warm indoors. “Must you always be so crass, Jurian?”

Elain and Lucien tugged the tree into the main room, pushing it up into the small metal stand Jurian had set out in front of the windows that morning. It was a truly beautiful tree, thick and smelling like the fresh forest they’d just departed. She decided she liked the smell substantially more now than she had this morning. Lucien leaned down to tighten the screws into place, Elain holding it steady above him. She had a passing thought that she liked how they interacted together, their impulses functioning as a team even without conscious thought. 

Jurian and Vassa returned from the kitchen, and Jurian handed Elain a large glass bottle of liquor. 

“What do you want me to do with this?” 

He gestured to her ruined clothes and sticky skin. “It’s alcohol. It’s just about the only way to get it off your skin. Though your clothes are likely ruined.” 

Elain felt the blush rise in her cheeks. Her skirts beneath the dress were already ruined from scraping endlessly against the bark of one very specific tree earlier, the ribbons in the corset only held together with the most hodgepodge assortment of ties currently. She wasn’t about to tell Jurian that, though.

Vassa stood. “Oh, Elain, I have plenty of extra clothes for you. I’ll set some on your bed while you bathe.” She turned to walk upstairs, and Elain followed, splitting off at the top hall to go to her own room. It was already warm, her fire somehow burning brightly even ahead of her. She was certain that was Lucien’s doing, somehow. She couldn’t help but smile as she set the liquor on the side of the tub and turned the faucet on. The warm water rushed in, filling the room with lovely steam as Elain turned the bottle into a cloth and rubbed gently at her skin, the sticky sap easing away with each pass. 

The bath had filled by the time she was clear of sap, and she screwed the lid back on the bottle and went to place it on the counter. She caught sight of herself in the mirror. Through the foggy glass, she could see the slightest dark imprints on her hips. Four in a line on each of her outer hips, and then one larger on the inside of her hip bones. She brushed her fingers over them and smiled. 

By the time Elain had soaked in the tub, all traces of the forest and otherwise gone from her skin, changed into Vassa’s soft pajama set, and come back downstairs, the rest of the house members were well on their way to drunk. The first noises Elain heard when she opened her door sounded like a pair of dying animals, wolves perhaps, who might have been stabbed judging by the howling. As she approached the stairs, she could hear the musical notes giving a valiant effort beneath what she now recognized as the horrid voices of Jurian and Lucien singing. She suppressed a laugh as she reached the first floor, noting Vassa slumped on the couch clapping in time with the caterwauling. 

Vassa saw her and twisted to reach for a full cup of something on the table behind her. “Elain! Here!” She shoved the glass at her, the white, thick liquid inside nearly sloshing over the edge as Elain took it from her hand. 

“What is it?”

“Oh! It’s egg nog!” Elain vaguely remembered her parents drinking something like this, but had never tried it herself. The first sip was creamy and sweet, a sharp tang of something alcoholic on the back end. No wonder they were all singing. 

Elain tried to whisper, but it was difficult to hear over the two males nearby, arms around each other’s shoulders, screaming what appeared to be a seasonal song. “What’s happening here?” 

Vassa giggled. “Lucien has a symphonia. Last year we used it for Christmas music, and they’re reliving their heyday now.” 

Elain’s eyes roved over to where Lucien stood swaying to the music with Jurian, eyes closed and glass raised, singing a soft song with the adjoining voices of a man and a woman that Lucien was singing quite high to mimic. 

And may the spirit of Christmas be always in our heartsssss.

Not even hours ago, this male had been holding her wide open against a tree. 

“Come, let’s decorate,” Vassa said excitedly while she grabbed her hand and tugged. 

Elain noticed then that there was a small pile of boxes near the base of their tree, and Vassa popped open the top of one to show a shiny trove of ornaments and sparkling tinsel. Vassa immediately dug in, her hands grabbing a few of the delicate, ornate, glass balls at once and finding them homes amongst the boughs of the tree. Elain couldn’t remember ever having done this, sure that her mother and father had the staff do it in her childhood. She took another great gulp of her drink, set it down, and knelt to gently pull out a bulb of burnished gold. She giggled when she realized it reminded her of Lucien’s eye. 

The more they drank, the more haphazard the decorating became. Once the tree was badly decorated, nearly lopsided, and covered in tangled strands of tinsel, Elain and Vassa fell back on the rug in front of the fire. Behind them somewhere, Lucien was trying his hardest to teach Jurian some sort of jig, but kept tripping, laughing until they were on the verge of tears while he took them both to the ground only to repeat the cycle again. 

Elain turned her blurry focus to the stonework around the fireplace. Lucien had mentioned he’d helped them build this manor. Had his hands worked these stones? She’d felt those calloused fingers inside of her now, the roughed fingers of a man who knew how to work with his hands. Something about it was so unapologetically arousing for her that she shivered at the feeling. He was a courtier, practiced and elegant. But he was also so unabashedly male , strong and crafty. Elain liked the idea that he could do it all. Would he build their house, too?

The thought had slipped into her drunken mind so fast that she almost choked herself when she realized it. Was she truly thinking about houses with him so suddenly? 

She supposed it wasn’t really sudden, not truly. But she still needed to get her thoughts in check before she threw herself over the deep end and into his arms forever. 

It was hard to do when she looked over to see him smiling and laughing, his head tossed back in joy while he practiced high kicks with his best friend. She had seen more of Lucien in the last few days than she had in the last few years. She thought it would be very, very easy to fall in love with him. If she admitted it to herself, she was well on her way. Today had been an opening of a floodgate that had, if she was honest, been welling and building for years. These emotions were not strange or new, not unfamiliar, but rather old friends she’d finally allowed into her life. She knew these feelings she had for Lucien were nothing new, she was simply embracing them now.

Jurian’s sudden movement over their heads and Vassa’s subsequent shriek as he tossed her over his shoulder launched Elain from her thoughts. Vassa grabbed at the bottle of rum on the side table, taking it with them and trying not to slosh it as Jurian ran. He already had Vassa halfway up the stairs, swatting her ass for good measure. 

“Goodnight you miscreants. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” The sound of Vassa’s gasping laughter echoed as they ran down the upper hall towards their room. 

“Would you like any more?” She looked up to see Lucien holding out what remained of the pitcher of nog.

“Oh, gods no. If I drink any more, someone will have to carry me to bed, too.” As it was, the world was already spinning a bit, and Elain pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. She was still on the floor in front of the fire, her toes warm and her heart satisfied. 

“I would be hard pressed to not volunteer for the job.” She tried not to giggle and failed, then felt a rush of air as one pillow then another hit the floor next to her. “Lift,” he ordered softly, and she tilted her head up just enough for him to slide the cushion under her. 

“Mmm, that’s nice.” Elain let her eyes close and hummed. When was the last time she’d been so at peace? When was the last time she’d had so much fun?

He laid the other one next to hers, settling in beside her and tossing a thick, plush blanket over them both. His hand found hers beneath it, twining their fingers together and giving her a squeeze. 

“You’re always so lovely and warm.” The words were out before she could stop herself, and she followed them with another giggle. Perhaps she was drunker than she’d thought. When she turned her head to look at him, she found him already staring back, the firelight twinkling in his eye.

“I’ll warm you up any time, Elain.” She thought of the forest earlier, their romps in the trees, and her stomach clenched with want. But for now, this closeness, this gentle touching, was enough. His thumb stroked across her wrist and her heart fluttered. 

“Will you kiss me, Lucien?”

“Every day for as long as I live, if you ask me to.” She wanted to smile, but his lips were already against hers, brushing softly then more insistently. As if by instinct, she opened for him, their tongues exploring each other. There was none of the desperate, fast pace of earlier, just languid strokes and curious touches as she shifted towards him. Her fingers grazed along his jaw lightly, and he sighed into her mouth. It was slow and intentional and perfect. 

As a child, Elain had always begged the nursemaids to read them bedtime stories about true love. She coveted the tales of the knight who would do anything for the one he loved, and she lived for the ones where that first kiss took their breath away, made them see sparks. Her sisters wanted thrills and adventure, but all Elain had ever wanted to hear about were the stories of the ones who found each other against all odds. 

Now that she’d found Lucien, truly found him, she never wanted to let him go again. 

[mintys-musings]

Rinne Amagi x GN!Reader - Champagne and Sunshine

Rinne !!!!!! My beloved that I’m not so secretly insane about 💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚 funny that his day is the one day i write soft sex- but all the story moments where he’s unexpectedly thoughtful and soft is so *rattles the bars to my cage* do you get it !!! do you understand the insanity it inflicts upon my poor heart who eats up the fucking “hides his actual feelings with a persona” trope (see also: Madara Mikejima) !!!!!! i could go on. Apologies for the long ass build up btw

summary: The morning after your anniversary, Rinne’s still feeling lovey dovey.

tags: soft sex for a while (“soft” compared to usual rinne activity), service top!Rinne, fingering, body worship, unprotected sex, … h-.... Hand holding-

word count: 2197

NSFW under cut~

The golden rays of sunlight kiss your eyelids gently as the smells and sounds of breakfast being made danced into the bedroom. You snuggle further into the bed, wrapping the sheets around yourself more. There’s a distinct lack of another person in this bed that you missed. The only way you thought to half-assedly quell that feeling was by hugging one of the pillows that he was using. You could still smell a bit of his cologne from last night— pink pepper and bergamot. 

You nearly drift back into slumber if it wasn’t for the sounds of your usually dead asleep snoring in the AM boyfriend softly cursing under his breath.

“Augh-! Shit- shit-” 

He mumbles something else and you hear a soft clattering sound.

He’s a grown man. He can handle whatever it is.

You pay no mind to him and just continue to doze for what feels like only a few seconds before you feel a weight being put on the mattress. For a moment, there was silence.

But just a moment.

“Baaaabe~” Rinne whines as he puts his full weight on top of you. “Honeeeey beeeeee~ Wake up~!”

He nuzzles his face right into your chest, squeezing you into his arms as he rolls the two of you around on the bed. 

“Gah! Rinne!” You squirm in his grasp.

As soon as your face emerges from the bedsheets, he showers you in kisses. This wasn’t exactly an uncommon occurrence. Usually this would’ve happened later in the day as you two tended to sleep in together. But he was always much more affectionate and energetic than usual after big events. Be it concerts, award shows were Crazy:B are even so much as nominated, whatever constituted a party called for extra affection from the bee.

Yesterday was your one year anniversary. Surprisingly, he planned an entire trip at an amusement park, rolling dice after every attraction and game stall you two visited to determine the next move. It was more fun than you’d admit to his face. The cherry on top was a candlelit dinner on the rooftop of a high class restaurant. How did he get a reservation? He would only grin and say it was fate. You would say it was his unit mate that you spotted plating a dish table side on your way to the bathroom.

But you didn’t tell him that.

Now you were being nuzzled and kissed all over by him.

You manage to push him off enough to plant a loving kiss of your own on his lips. 

“Good morning,” you say. “You seem happy.”

Rinne laughs in the way he always does, scooping you up and settling you on his lap. His blue eyes bore into yours with a love drunk gaze. “‘Course I’m happy, babe.” He presses his lips to yours gently. “I’ve had the privilege of being yours for over a year.” One of his hands raises to cup your cheek. “Who wouldn’t be happy with that?”

For all the time he spent acting like a fool, gambling his savings away, pranking suspecting idols in the agency, he never failed to remind you how important you were to him. At first it was subtle. He’d protect you from leering eyes or suddenly treat you to lunch whenever he supposedly won big at pachinko. Now he was much more comfortable dropping that outrageous mask in front of you. He was at ease with you.

“I made you breakfast.”

His words snap you out of your reminiscing and yes. There was, in fact, a tray with toast and scrambled eggs sitting on your bedside table along with two mugs of coffee. One mug less filled than the other.

“... Did you actually make that?” You ask, tilting your head. The eggs were cooked to a perfect soft scramble and the toast nearly looked fake with how even the toasting was.

He looks to the side, his signature cocky smile on his face as he scratches the back of his neck. “I picked up a few things while livin’ with Niki all those years, ‘kay?”

You give him a sleepy smile and kiss his cheek. “Thank you, honey.”

As you pull back, you see him staring down at you rather intensely. Your eyes follow his gaze. The shirt you were wearing— One of Rinne’s t-shirts, actually— had slipped past your shoulder, exposing your collarbone.

Oh.

Nothing was said for the next few minutes. Only actions existed between you two for this moment. It was a silent agreement as Rinne undresses you like he was unwrapping a delicate package. Once your shirt and any other clothing you were wearing were out of the way, he makes quick work of his undershirt. Rinne keeps his boxers on as he was much too excited to get started on you. He pushes you gently back down onto the bed where you were just dozing off moments ago.

Rinne runs his hands up and down your sides, admiring the view he had of you below him. He was captivated by the way the light shines through the curtains to brush and caress your body in the same way he was doing right now. His face glows with his soft, love drunk expression, lowering his head to give you the nth kiss of the morning. His lips drift from your lips down to your neck and down your body.

He leaves no patch of skin untouched. He relishes in each soft gasp he can pull out of you. Each time he feels your skin pebble to goosebumps, he chuckles and nuzzles his face into that spot a little more.

You merely lie against the pillows and sheets and watch him, one of his hands holding yours with your fingers intertwined. He had already brought you breakfast (which still lay untouched due to this small distraction), but he refused to have you lift a finger. Your one year anniversary might have ended when you both slept, but he couldn’t help but want to treat his lover a little more.

“Hmngh…”

Your eyes flutter as his tongue lavishes itself against your hole. Through half-lidded eyes, you catch a glimpse of him staring up at you like you were heaven sent. His own eyes close eventually as he focuses all his efforts into pleasuring you. Your legs instinctively find their way over his broad shoulders and he moves his hands to hold onto your waist gently. 

One of his long fingers makes its way into your hole. Curling and gently caressing you from within, his mouth finds its own rhythm against your sex. Rinne lets out a small mouth of his own, clearly deriving pleasure from this act alone. The vibrations send waves of pleasure up your spine as you try and stop yourself from grinding against his face. He’s not going particularly fast. His tongue moves at a languid pace and he’s taking his time with adding another finger into your eager hole. But he knew every spot that made your body want to keen and whine for him. He’s explored enough that the actions were second nature to him.

Your head falls back against the pillows, softly moaning as your lover holds you right where he wants you. The sleepy daze that was clouding your mind was replaced with the wondrous haze of pleasure. Your hips raise ever so slightly into Rinne’s touch and his grip on your waist tightens. His movements speed up slightly to draw out more noises from you.

You just barely manage to raise your head and see his piercing blue eyes glued to your form.

“Rinne~” Your voice still had the slight morning rasp. Now it was mixed in with your needy whines.

“Yes, honey bee?” He pulls away, the signature smirk you’ve grown to love plasters itself on his face.

For a moment, you just lie there— panting softly. You can’t seem to speak, mind already starting to numb from the gentle but constant drum of pleasure flowing through you.His free hand continues to caress your sides while the fingers inside of you move in and out at a moderate pace. The only sounds filling the room.

He watches your mouth open and shut a couple times. His fingers continue to speed up as he finds your speechless expression all too precious to stop. He doesn’t even want to speak so as to not interrupt the chorus of sweet noises that tumble from your lips.

The way the light shines from behind him makes him appear to have a slight golden outline. Like a little halo of light. Your vision blurs for a moment as you feel your orgasm approach quickly. You try and get your bearings, hand reaching for the one holding your waist. You don’t last long before you feel the pleasure release from your body. You tense for a moment, clenching yourself around Rinne’s fingers, before relaxing back down onto the bed.

Rinne lets out a low whistle and retracts his fingers from your hole. He even makes a show of kissing your sex as if to thank you for the wonderful display you’ve put on for him. You whimper at the emptiness, breathing deeply to calm yourself.

You watch as he frees his cock from his boxers. The way his hand strokes himself up and down was a delicious sight. There was no need for him to even do that considering how hard he was.

“Babe~”

He kisses you again to bring you out of your stupor. “You okay? Can I put it in… please?” He asks so gently, but you could feel the slight strain behind his words.

You look down and see his dick already rubbing against your awaiting hole. The sight alone made you want more.

“I’m okay.” You tell him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Go ahead, Rinne~”

Rinne pushes himself into your hole the second you give him the okay. You watch as his Adam’s apple bobs and he lets out a guttural moan.

“Shit- You feel so fucking good.” He sucks in a harsh breath. It takes him all the concentration in the world to not pound you into the mattress and let you both get a second to adjust to each other.

Your lips make contact with his throat as he wraps his arms around you. He didn’t care if you left hickeys. In fact, he invited it. His eyes roll upward as you suck on his pale skin and he gave a few shallow thrusts before finding a good pace.

He went slow. In comparison to his usual harsh, eye watering pace, Rinne was going slow. He wanted to savour this moment with you. And it felt just as good.

His pace makes you feel each and every inch leaving and entering you and you find yourself back in that pleasure induced daze from earlier. You kiss and nip at his neck and collarbone, eyes fluttering shut as his fingers rub circles into your back. Your legs hook around his waist to draw him closer.

“I’m so lucky.” His voice is husky as he mutters those words into your ear. “I’m so lucky to be yours. That you let me be yours.” He speeds up slightly. His dick is throbbing inside of you.

“I’m yours too, Rinne.” You whimper, an overwhelming feeling of care and pleasure mixing together inside of you.

His hips smack against yours delightfully, speeding up as time went on. There are no more words exchanged. Just moans and cries of pleasure.

Rinne has reached his boiling point. He lets go of your body in favour of bracing himself against the mattress with one hand. His other hand collects your wrists and holds them above your head as he leans forward. He uses his own body weight to get you into a mating press— the angle making his dick drive deeper into you.

His usual pace was back.

You cry out as his cock flies in and out of you, the pressure of an orgasm bubbling inside of your abdomen once again. Through bleary eyes, you see him dip his head down. You can hear him groaning and growling by your ear. Rinne was drowning in the same overwhelming pleasure and emotions as you were. 

“I love you, my honey bee.”

A deep thrust burying his cock as deep as it would go in you punctuates each word.

You couldn’t even respond before you are overtaken by the force of your climax. You shudder against his sturdy body as you are thrown into clear bliss. The immense amount of pleasure runs through you in waves and you find yourself clenching around him more than expected.

Rinne lets out beautiful— damn near melodic— breathy moans himself. A couple more deep thrusts and he is holding you in place as his cum fills your hole. He gives a few shallow thrusts before he stops, pulling you on top of him.

You and him lie there, skin to skin and catching your breaths. His fingers move to stroke your hair.

A soft smile appears on his face as he hears your quiet voice.

“I love you too, Rinne.”

[highqueenofelfhame]

rowaelin // 4.9k words // ciwyw masterlist // masterlist

It was golden light that roused Aelin from sleep, sneaking in through gaps in the curtains and blinds. It took her a moment to remember that it was Rowan’s bed she was curled up in, completely wrapped in his cool pine scent. She inhaled deeply, ducking her nose down into the plush duvet and savored it. Part of her wished he was laying beside her, the sunlight casting soft shadows over his face. With her eyes closed she could imagine it. 

It was better that he wasn’t. She knew that. There was hurt on both sides. Words had been said that cut them both in sensitive places, and the wedge between them was starting to feel like an ocean. Yet being here, in his bed, his house, were the first steps toward reconciliation. They just had to get through the hard conversations first. 

The best part about Rowan not being in bed with her was the smell of bacon, eggs, and something sweet creeping up the stairs and beneath the door. For what felt like the first time in her pregnancy, her mind and body were in agreement: she was hungry. Though she was hesitant to believe her head wouldn’t be in the toilet immediately following breakfast, she slipped out of bed and padded her way downstairs. 

“How did you sleep?” He asked her, eyes roving over her head to toe before he turned back to the pan on the stove. Aelin wondered if it was because she was still in the clothes he’d given her to sleep in, or if it was some instinct of his to make sure she was in one piece. She slid onto one of the chairs at the bar, folding her arms atop it, and laid her head down.

“Like the dead.” A sleepy yawn escaped her before she could finish her response. One of these days, she really needed to take to the internet to see when, exactly, she would stop feeling so wholly exhausted all the time. “Did you sleep okay?”

“I did,” he confessed, the muscles in his back rippling beneath the simple gray t-shirt he wore. “Better than I have all week, actually.” 

Rowan was careful as he deposited an egg onto a plate next to a few pieces of bacon and a cinnamon roll. Aelin thanked him when he handed her the plate and a glass of orange juice. It was freshly squeezed if the notes of orange zest throughout the kitchen were any indicator, but when she lifted it to take a sip, her stomach turned violently in protest. 

“It’s freshly squeezed. No additives or anything.” Two strings pulled the corners of her lips toward the floor. The confirmation that he spent gods knew how long juicing oranges until she had a full glass worth made her feel guilty for the way her body was reacting.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she said as she put it back down on the bar, far enough away that her nose couldn’t smell it anymore. 

“It was nothing.” 

“No I mean…” She paused and took a deep breath, eyes closing at the nausea rising in the back of her throat. “Can you put that anywhere else please.”

“Shit. Fuck, Aelin, I’m so sorry.” Rowan was quick to swoop in and pour it directly down the kitchen sink, letting the water chase it down the drain. 

“You didn’t know. I didn’t either until I smelled it,” she admitted, finally opening her eyes and lifting her fork. 

The first bite of the cinnamon roll was heavenly. It was baked to perfection, the gooey texture nearly melting away on her tongue. It was exactly how she loved her cinnamon rolls, but couldn’t remember ever telling him that. Perhaps once in passing. The eggs were scrambled and in a neat pile of soft, pillowy clouds. None of it touched.

“Did your mom teach you to cook?”

“She did. I was hungry just about constantly growing up, especially after practice and games. It’s come in handy now that I follow such a strict meal plan.” Indeed, his plate didn’t have a cinnamon roll. Instead he had two pieces of toast, some bacon and sausage, and three eggs. When he slid into the seat beside her she noticed two bowls, one with oatmeal and the other full of fruit. 

“I was underfeeding you at my house,” she murmured, sitting back and resting her hands on her stomach. The baby, apparently, didn’t want her to enjoy breakfast. She took deep, steadying breaths to keep the food down even as a sheen of sweat started to coat her skin. 

“Are you sick a lot?” Concern swam in his gaze as looked her over head to toe, but she nodded her head.

“Lysandra made me go to the emergency room a few days after I found out, and—” Rowan’s head whipped around, eyes wide and full of concern. Aelin held up a hand for him to wait a moment and continued, “There are days I couldn’t keep water down. That’s what the blood test was from. They gave me some medication to help with the nausea.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Something like devastation flashed across his features, squeezing her heart like he’d squeezed those oranges. 

“Because I was still freaking out about being pregnant and how I was going to tell you, and I didn’t want you to find out because I was in the hospital over it. Imagine your reaction in an ER,  with nothing between us and strangers but—” Aelin was cut off by the all too familiar tell of her mouth watering, head becoming unclear and dizzy as she launched off the chair and sprinted to the bathroom. She barely made it to the toilet before dropping onto her knees and emptying the little contents of her stomach into the bowl. 

Rowan was there, like he’d seen the color of her face drain to stark white. His hand was a steady weight on her back, moving slowly up and down her spine while he gathered up her hair in his other hand. 

By the time she was through, her throat burned from the pure bile that clawed its way out of her body. Aelin’s ribs and stomach ached from the force of it all and Rowan had to help her back onto her feet, gripping her shaky hands and grounded her to earth. 

“Do you want to lay back down?” he asked her, using his fingers to comb her hair up onto the top of her head. Goosebumps erupted over her body when he tugged the hair tie off her wrist and secured the bun into place. 

Aelin shook her head and gestured toward the kitchen where their breakfast grew colder by the second and said, “I’m going to shower while you finish eating. And don’t object to it. I know you’re hungry. So eat.” 

His eyes were wary as he appraised her. They scanned every feature from head to toe like he was cataloging every single thing about her. Deeming her well enough to manage on her own, he led her out of the bathroom and toward the stairs. Even when she protested, he followed her up and gathered towels and the small bucket of necessities that had everything she would need: body wash, shampoo, conditioner, razors, shaving gel. The little box of tampons almost made her laugh. She wouldn’t  be needing those for a while. 

When he finally left her alone, she stared at the bin full of everything she might need for her stay. Aelin didn’t question if it was meant for any female visitors he might have. She didn’t have to. Everything in it was smaller sizes of everything she had in her shower at home. Like he had made a list so he knew what to get. 

It almost made her angry, how thoughtful it was. Simply because it made it virtually impossible to be upset with him. All of her anger toward him was gradually slipping through her fingers, just like the water she gathered in her cupped hands. 

~*~ 

By the time she was done showering and walked back downstairs, Rowan had finished eating and cleaned up the kitchen. It was near pristine. The dirty dishes had vanished from the stove top and sink and an empty trash bag was in the garbage bin. One of his tattooed fingers was just about to mist the room with air freshener to cover the lingering scent of cinnamon and bacon when she stopped him. 

“That’s overkill. I’m fine.” Her polished fingers toyed with the ends of her damp hair as he looked up at her. 

Rowan’s eyes swept over her, lingering on her still flat stomach. There was nothing to see, not yet, not for several weeks, but he looked and looked like he could see the baby through her t-shirt, her skin. When he finally looked at her face again he simply nodded and put the can back under the sink. 

“Come on,” Aelin said after several heartbeats of silence, her head nodding toward the living room while he pulled a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water from the fridge. Once it was in her hands she glanced at the living room again. “We should talk.” 

When she turned her back she heard him sigh deeply. It was strained, like he wasn’t at all looking forward to what was coming, like he dreaded it. Almost like he was scared. She wondered if his heart was racing and pounding like hers as she walked across the room and tucked herself in the corner of the sofa. A blanket is pulled over her legs with hands that have a small tremor. Aelin tucked them between her thighs to make it stop. 

“At the time,” she said slowly, turning the words over in her mind before speaking them out loud, “I didn’t understand why you asked me if it was for money. But now, knowing what you actually do for a living, I understand why you felt the need to ask.”

“That isn’t what it was.” The words were clipped, his jaw clenching as he paced in front of her. Aelin watched him until he finally sat down on the edge of the couch, fingers drumming against his knees to quell his nervous energy. Confusion rose to the surface in her mind.

“Okay. Explain it to me then.” 

“I— fuck. I don’t like talking about this.” The second part seemed to be said more toward himself than to her, so she waited patiently while he sifted through letters and syllables to make words. 

Rowan looked over at her and chewed on his cheek. More than once, his lips parted to try to sew together his words, but closed again. Like he didn’t know how, when, or where to begin. Aelin wasn’t sure either. They both had a lot to say, had apologies to make. There was so much, though, that it was hard for her to find the words, too. 

“I don’t like talking about it because I don’t… I don’t want you to think I’m making excuses about how I treated you. I’m not. But it’s the truth. Any single one of my friends, my family, they can back it up.” 

“Rowan. It’s okay. Just talk to me.” The fingers in her lap ached to reach for him, twitching against her bare legs beneath the blanket. She wove them together to stay put. 

“I had been sleeping with a woman for a while. Nothing serious, just casual when I had the time. She ended up getting pregnant about six months or so into it. I didn’t want the relationship to get serious. She… Lyria and I weren’t really well matched. We didn’t know each other. I found it hard to open up to her. More than that, I didn’t want to open up to her. But I was more than willing to step up where the baby was concerned.” He paused, tongue swiping over his teeth. Aelin’s heart was trying to escape her ribcage. She took a steadying breath, telling herself to listen and not draw conclusions before he finished. Still, she wondered. Did he have a kid already?

“Lyria was pushing for a relationship, to marry eventually. I was 23, still pretty early in my career, nowhere near ready for marriage.  Especially not with a woman I barely knew . Every time it was brought up I shut it down. Not to break her heart,” he added with a swift glance at Aelin. “I don’t think she was ever in love with me. But because it wouldn’t have been a fruitful marriage, we would have been miserable, and I truly didn’t see the point.” 

Aelin nodded in understanding, “You didn’t want to settle.”

“I didn’t want her to settle either. It wouldn’t have been fair for anyone, especially not the baby in a few years time. I didn’t want to raise a child in a loveless home. But all of that isn’t why I reacted so… fucking horribly.” 

“Okay.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but loud enough to encourage him to keep going. After another steadying breath, he did. 

“One night I very firmly shut it down again. I told her it wasn’t on the table. I want to make it clear that she had a good job, she had really good health insurance. But she started asking me for money. Of course I wanted to give the support she needed, so I gave. And gave. And gave. I couldn’t not give her the money. We weren’t close enough for me to know the extent of her income, and I had money I could afford to lose. Maybe she did, maybe she didn’t, but whenever I asked about it she would get cagey. Accuse me of accusing her. It was such a complicated web to unravel and the fighting was so tiring.”

Aelin was nothing more than a concrete statue, her limbs heavy at her sides. She was unable to move while he spoke, eyes focused on the frayed corner of the blanket in her lap. Every sentence was turned over in her mind carefully, knowing that the grief and frustration that marred his face and sharpened his words was absolutely true.

“One day she called me several times in a row. I didn’t answer because our flight got in really late and I was exhausted. There was no energy in my soul to argue with her about money, so I sent it to voicemail. Later she sent me a text that she miscarried and… I didn’t want the relationship with her but I was just getting used to the idea of being a dad. I have always wanted to have kids. The timing was off at the time, but I was excited about it. And then it was just… gone.”

“Rowan,” she started gently, desperate to offer him comfort of some sort. No words would be a balm to that wound, but she couldn’t bring herself to reach out and touch him. Instead of looking at her he held up a hand, silently asking her to wait. Gods, he wasn’t finished. How could it get worse?

“I found out a few weeks later through a mutual friend that she had miscarried nearly an entire month earlier. All through that month I was still sending her money for appointments, for nursery furniture, car seats…” Rowan shook his head, silver hair falling into his eyes. “We stopped talking after I told her I knew the truth. That she was using all the money I was giving her to fund her lifestyle, hardly any of it was going toward anything for the baby, and that she weaponized the miscarriage to hurt me. It was a massive fucking blow out, and we haven’t spoken since.” 

All the letters and words had evacuated her brain. The weight of his eyes trailing over her face made her finally meet his gaze. All the empathy she had in her heart was swimming in the ocean blue of her eyes that gleamed with unshed tears. In his, she saw that he knew the words she couldn’t find to speak out loud. 

“It makes me feel like a massive piece of shite, but sometimes I wonder if she was even pregnant at all or if the whole thing was just a way to get money from me.” His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose, green eyes fluttering shut as he took a moment to just breathe. Aelin wondered if he had ever voiced that confession out loud before. 

“I can understand why you reacted the way that you did.” The words swept out of her mouth on a heavy exhale, hands flexing in her lap.

“But?” 

“I don’t fault you for the reasons behind your actions, Rowan. But I also can’t just freely let go with what you said and how you said it. I wish that I could, but I felt like we…” Aelin trailed off, eyes shifting around the room on a scavenger hunt for words she had lost. 

“Like we had something more than what I reflected in my reaction,” he finished. A hand dragged through his hair and down the back of his neck before settling over the mouth that had put him in so much trouble in the last eight days. 

“I thought you trusted and respected me more.”

“I do, Aelin. I– fuck. I do. I am so sorry for what I said, how I said it, what I accused you of, that I hurt you. For all of it, I’m so fucking sorry.” Rowan’s hands flexed against his thighs like he was dying to touch her almost as much as she was dying to be touched by him. They curled into fists so tight she could see his thumb nails turning white from the pressure. 

“I know,” she assured him. “I know that, I just–” 

Her hands moved restlessly in front of her, trying to pull her thoughts into coherent sentences. Trying to fully express how deeply it had cut her for him to react that way was difficult. The empty space in his arms where she had fit so perfectly had started to feel like home. It was the safest she had ever felt and following this path of life had felt so entirely right. But then he opened his stupid, perfect mouth. Those words had been dripping with such a sharp edge there wasn’t a way it wouldn’t have hurt. 

“I think I just need some time. I think we need to slow down. This wasn’t supposed to become anything. You know? It was just meant to be fun, but–” She cut herself off with a shrug, her fingers falling onto her flat stomach. Somewhere in there, a baby that was equal parts of her and Rowan was swimming around.  Those feelings threatened to undo her if she allowed herself to feel them. Instead of letting them bubble over, she shoved a cork deep down into that bottle to avoid it just a little while longer.

Rowan’s inhale was sharp, a blade against its scabbard. A chilly silence filled the room, faint buzzing in her ears like she was on the snowboarding slopes in the Staghorns after a heavy snowfall. His fingers drummed against his thighs, eyes staring straight ahead when he finally nodded in understanding. 

A relationship hadn’t been on her radar. It was why the long-distance nature of it worked out so well. With time between each visit, she wasn’t able to throw herself into his heart no matter how much she may have wanted to. Nevermind that the last time she had dived head first into something it had ended with her broken and bleeding. That relationship left scars that were still tender, still itching as they healed. 

It didn’t matter how badly she was desperate to be curled up against him, feel his skin warm where they touched. How much she craved to taste his lips, to kiss the hollow of his throat and down his chest, to just feel his body splayed beneath her fingers. To know that things would be okay. There was so much more at play here than what she wanted. A little baby was caught in the crossfires, and she has to be sure that going forward their relationship was built on more than a whirlwind romance. 

Instead of reaching for his hand and continuing to let herself fall for him, she carefully constructed a wall around her heart and nodded in return. 

“About me lying to you about… everything,” she began, but was quickly cut off by Rowan shaking his head so rapidly it made her dizzy.

“There’s no need for you to explain that. I do not fault you for wanting to protect yourself, Aelin. I wish we had both been more honest with each other, but, no. You don’t need to explain or apologize. I understand. I did the same thing.” The tightness in her chest eased. For the first time since everything had come out, her ribs weren’t so tightly constricted when she took a steadying breath. They had both lied for similar reasons, and her secrets didn’t seem to change anything for him, at least. 

Rowan’s eyes seemed dark and distant, not at all what she was used to. But the conversation at hand was one of pain and hurt. It couldn’t be easy for him to lay this all at her feet, yet he had, and now they could move forward. He would give her the space she required and after that, they would figure things out. 

A kernel of hope nestled itself into her heart. Aelin just hoped she wouldn’t get hurt this time. 

~*~ 

White noise skittered along his skin, his nerves. The stifling sound of silence filled his ears like cotton as she finally stood and began to gather her things. The minutes ticked by like hours and Rowan hated every single drawn out second of it. He just wanted her to stay despite Aelin admitting that what they had between them wasn’t supposed to be anything. Those words were sure to echo between his ears during every hour he existed for the rest of his life.

Deep down in the trenches of his mind he was aware it was the best option for now. For them to pump the brakes, for him to make it up to her. Rowan understood why she needed time to process. He had assumed the worst of her when in reality, the truth of those pregnancy tests had shaken her to her core, just like they had him. 

Still, he couldn’t deny his excitement. While he had been wholly unprepared when Lyria was pregnant, he was ready this time. Ready in a way that only resulted in happiness buzzing through his bones when he imagined what the child would look like, what they would be like. And if he and Aelin could figure this out and work through the missteps…

Gods. He was going to be a dad. After she took the time she needed and he proved himself, they could be a family. A real family. It wasn’t going to be like last time because he was already tripping and stumbling over the edge of a cliff, his feelings rising as rapidly as the water. He was falling in love with her, and it terrified him. 

Rowan could wait. He would give her all the time she wanted, that she needed, and on the other side of it he would make sure that she was the happiest woman in the world. That their baby had the universe at their feet. Anything either of them wanted, he would ensure they had it. Nothing else mattered like this, not even football. 

A new determination had melded into his bones by the time Aelin came downstairs with her bag over one shoulder. He stood as she slipped on her shoes, then walked her out to her car. Apprehension was all over her face, evident in the way her fingers twisted together when she faced him after opening her door. 

“I’ll give back your clothes soon, I just felt gross putting the ones from yesterday back on.” Aelin gestured to the pair of boxers and t-shirt she wore. Rowan shook his head. 

“I’m not worried about that. Keep them if you wish.” A lock of hair blew into her face with the wind. Without thinking he caught it with his fingertips, grazing her cheekbone as he pushed it behind her ear. 

Aelin stiffened and took a single step back. The emotional distance was wider than the ocean when her head shook, brows meeting between her eyes that didn’t quite meet his. 

“Please don’t touch me like that,” she said quietly, but not weakly. Ice water had been dumped over his head despite the warmth in the air. His fingers clenched into a tight fist as they dropped to his side and he promptly shoved them into his pockets. Rowan took several steps back, jaw wired shut. Uncomfortable. Aelin looked uncomfortable at his touch, and he wanted to slam his fist into the concrete because of it. 

“I’ll text you soon,” she said, and he suddenly remembered  the question that had been floating around in the back of his mind for the last two days. Just as she was about to shut the door, he grabbed the top of it to keep it from closing. Aelin jolted a bit, her  eyebrows rising high as the clouds.

“How did you find out?” She looked at him for a second while she processed the question, and then laughed. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard.

“My best friend, Lysandra. I hadn’t sent her very many good pictures of your face yet, so she just googled ‘Rowan’ along with soccer and Doranelle hoping for a team photo or something.” Rowan laughed, too. Some of the tension eased from his shoulders as she smiled at him in their truce. 

He nodded after a moment, a small smile still on his face. He stepped back to let her drive away, standing in the mid-afternoon silence while her tires kicked up clouds of dust. It would be a long road to win her trust back, but he wouldn’t stop until he had earned it. 

~*~

The car ride back to Varese was spent choking back tears and forcing air into her lungs to ground her. As soon as she was back in her apartment, however, the dam broke. A tidal wave of emotion crashed down upon her head, and the front door was barely closed before her thumbs were punching buttons on her phone. By the time Lysandra picked up there were sobs violently shaking her entire body. 

Before pregnancy, this wouldn’t have been anything to cry over. She still would have called Lysandra, of course, but it wasn’t something that would wreck her like this. Truthfully, Aelin didn’t even know why she was crying, other than the fact that she just felt alone. No universe existed where Aelin Ashryver Galathynius was alone in anything, much less a pregnancy. But she had nowhere to go to seek comfort in Varese. Two weeks ago it would have been to Rowan, but that was off the table. Now she just had an empty apartment and her thoughts. 

Lysandra listened while she cried and tried to get a deep breath down. Aelin hadn’t been so upset in years and was positive that if she wasn’t pregnant, everything wouldn’t feel quite so out of control. As it was, there were no handholds to grab onto, no footholds to keep her from sliding down the cliff. While her emotions waxed and waned, Lysandra was there to listen to it all, to soothe her anxiety when she started to spiral out of control. 

Part of her wished Aedion knew about the pregnancy because she needed him right now. But Lysandra filled his shoes almost well enough for everything to dwindle to a simmering calm. 

Though she was set to fly out next week, Lys managed to find a lone ticket that would put her in Varese early the next morning. They talked while she packed, the blonde managing to calm down enough to go over everything that had been said between her and Rowan earlier that morning. 

“I want to forgive him,” she said quietly a few hours later, curled up in her kleenex-covered bed. 

“Why can’t you?” 

“I–” Her lips twisted into a knot as she frowned at the floor. “I just need to be sure. You know? I need to… I don’t know.”

“You need to know that if this is going to be an actual relationship and not a co-parenting situation, that he isn’t going to hurt you again,” Lysandra offered, somehow seeing directly into Aelin’s mind and knowing the inner workings better than she did herself. 

“Yeah,” she sniffed, those emotions threatening to spill over once again despite how much she had already cried. Even though a relationship was the last thing she wanted. “I just need to be sure.”

An hour later, Lysandra was ready for her 6:30 AM flight, and Aelin was more than ready to not feel quite so alone. 

When she pulled up to the airport to pick up her best friend in the early hours of the morning, the sun just beginning to crest over the mountaintops to the east, it wasn’t the dark-haired beauty she was expecting. In fact, she almost drove right past the man that shared her eyes and golden hair. The man that could be her twin. 

It was Aedion. 

@elentiyawhitethorn @autumnbabylon @fancysludgeshoelamp  @wordsafterhours @live-the-fangirl-life @the-hospitality-of-knives @tangledraysofsunshine @readandlisten @westofmoon @rowanaelinn  @morganofthewildfire @writtenonreceipts @feynightlight @emster1622-blog @scarblx @secondstartorightand @thefaetrove @loveyatopluto @actuallybarb @peppermint-fae @the-devils-own @scottmcgivemeacall @livingmylifeforme  @wordsafterhours @foreverfallingforthestars @llyncooljones @emily-gsh @loosesimplicity @emilyrose111294  @charlizeed @aelinchocolatelover @cretaceous-therapod @sayosdreams @fireheart-violet @the-regal-warrior @backtobl4ck @shyvioletcat @autumnbabylon @bellasbookboyfriends

[gravedigginbbydoll]

in the glow of the candlelight

Karlach x F! Tav Holiday Blurb

CW: pure fluff, very short, domestic, mentions of other characters, kissing, holiday spirit

AN: hey! This is my first time writing some Karlach fluff but felt Christmas and the Holiday season would really be her thing. Please enjoy and don't forget to reblog if you can!

After nearly losing your life and fighting off evil (several times!), you had released how little you appreciated things before. Especially once you learned Karlach had forgotten what winter and the holidays were like. 

You learned this during the first snowfall, when her eyes were glued to the window, her expression almost identical to a kid in a candy store. She had watched and watched before racing outside to roll around in the snow in clothes that were bound to give anyone else frostbite. The snow was melting around her, but she didn’t seem to give a damn. 

The imagery had tugged at your heartstrings so much that you decided your new quest was to remind Karlach of how fantastic the season could be. You became a frenzy of planning, hurrying to decorate the small cottage the two of you stayed in one cold winter’s day while she was out with Wyll. You worked on setting out old family decor you had, dried orange and cranberry garlands and candles galore, all the things that made you feel wrapped up in the holiday spirit and nostalgia. You put on a simmer pot, the house beginning to smell like spices and citrus as you got to working on what else you should get your sweetheart. 

When Karlach came home, her eyes shone with child-like wonder as she looked around before looking at you. 

“This…. is….amazing!” She yelped out, picking you up effortlessly and spinning you in her arms, making you giggle. 

“I figured we could pick out a tree and decorate it together too…if you want.” 

She nodded enthusiastically, grinning from ear to ear as she leaned forward to kiss you deeply. You felt your heart soar as you embraced her, glad to be the one giving her so much joy. 

You didn’t realize taking Karlach to pick out a tree would take 2 hours. You didn’t mind but found it mildly amusing how the large tiefling who could snap anyone she wanted in half was excitedly going from tree to tree, trying so hard to pick one. You just smiled and followed along, ensuring she wasn’t grabbing the most enormous tree (your cottage could only fit so much). 

She was now at a much smaller tree that was still whole; the plant was not nearly as impressive as some of the trees surrounding it. You looked at Karlach, who seemed to be in thought, before looking at you, voice soft. 

“I think we should pick this one, darling. It’s bound to get overlooked by everyone else, and it deserves to be able to celebrate just as much as any other tree, don’t ya think?” 

You smiled softly, recognizing the tiefling big heart, feeling sorry for the tiny thing and wanting to include it. You nodded, prompting Karlach to quickly chop down the thing and carry it over one shoulder. 

You and Karlach spent the next few days decorating the tree, enjoying the snow, and visiting old friends. Wyll often invited you over or attended the winter markets with the two of you. Gale had come over and made mulled wine while Halsin sent beautiful carvings of snowflakes and reindeer that were hung on your tree. Shadowheart sent a lovely card, and Astarion came by to escape the cold evidently, but you saw the wrapped gift he secretly left under the tree—the days passed by full of joy and laughter. 

You knew it had all been worth it when Karlach had you curled in her arms on a fateful December night, watching the snow fall outside. She had been drifting off, her eyes fluttering closed as she held onto you and mumbled, sleep taking over her tone. 

“Thank you for the best holiday ever, soldier…It wouldn’t have been complete without you.”

[lauronk]

I wish you would write a fic where...

Joel and Anna get together after Sarah goes to college. Ellie is their kid and Sarah is the cool aunt figure.

hi! thank you so much for the prompt! ngl, i struggled with it a little because i do not know how to write Romantic Joel, he exists only as Dad in my head lol but i gave it a good shot, i hope you enjoy!

the best day with you today

length: ~1.2k words tags: canon divergence; modern au; everyone's alive; joel/anna; joel & ellie & anna & sarah; family feels; pregnancy; family bonding; dunking each other in the river; no beta we die like david

Joel had never really planned on having another kid. Hell, he’d barely even planned on having the first - definitely not as young as he’d been - but Rae had gotten pregnant and they’d gotten married and then barely a year after Sarah’s birth, she’d decided she wasn’t cut out for motherhood, and she bailed. Sarah had no memories of her, but other than a few growing pains here and there, she’d never seemed to be worse off without her.

Joel had raised her and watched her graduate and sent her off to college (all the way to San Marcos, which really isn’t that far, Dad, I’ll come visit plenty) and then realized he had no damn idea what to do with his life now. No soccer practice to cart her to, no sleepovers to host, no extracurriculars to plan around.

Now it was just him and his empty house and enough woodcarvings to fill the time that Tommy finally confiscated his knives and said he could have them back if he left the house once a week for two months.

So, after digging around on the internet a little, he’d gone to the library down the street, picked up their calendar, and signed up for the monthly book club and the Spanish conversation group. Both of which, it turned out, were attended by a woman named Anna who had a habit of shooting him amused looks when one of the other book club members made an asinine remark.

True to his word, Tommy returned the knives to him after two months, but they started collecting dust almost immediately because Joel spent all his free time with Anna. A coffee date turned into a dinner date and within two weeks they were seeing each other near daily.

Sarah had been astonished - and more than a little skeptical - when Joel sat her down and told her that he and Anna were planning to get married, with her blessing of course, barely ten months after meeting. Joel could see it all over her face that she didn’t think it would last, that he was having some kind of midlife crisis - not helped by the fact that Anna was nearly ten years younger than him - and that they wouldn’t last the year.

But she could see how important this was to him, so she gave her blessing anyway. No matter her own reservations, she wanted her dad to be happy. And she liked Anna a lot, thought her a good match for Joel, even if everything was moving unsettlingly fast.

They’d done a small ceremony in the backyard, just Sarah, Tommy, and Anna’s best friend Marlene in attendance. And for another two years that had been their family; neither of them had planned on having kids.

But then Anna started throwing up, missed her period, and those two lines on the test turned pink. And suddenly, they were having a baby.

Ellie made her arrival a week before Sarah’s twenty-first birthday, and Joel’s eldest spent what should have been a night out partying pacing laps around their living room cradling her sister, while Joel and Anna snagged a few precious hours of sleep. He’d been worried that getting a baby sister when she herself was full grown would be a problem for Sarah, but it had been the opposite. Ellie was Sarah’s favorite person ever, a feeling that went both ways as Ellie got older.

Wild, Joel thought, watching Ellie and Sarah float in their tubes ahead of him and Anna, how his girls could be so far apart in years and yet be so close and so similar. Maybe not wild, just…lucky.

The two of them are shooting mischievous grins over their shoulders now, and Joel shares a wry look with Anna. Her nose and cheeks are tinted red with the sun, tips of her fingers tracing lightly through the water as they float down the San Marcos River.

“Here,” Joel says, carefully tossing her the small tube of sunscreen. He points to his own nose and cheeks. “Think you need a bit of a touch up, you’re gettin’ a little crispy.”

Anna gives him a wry smile, rubbing a fresh coat over her face. “Not all of us were made to roast in the Texas sun, sweetheart.”

Joel shrugs. “Can’t help it that I tan and you don’t, darlin’. Y’know –”

Something pushes hard on the bottom of his tube, and Joel goes ass over head into the river, the cold temperature jolting him into opening his mouth and damn near inhaling enough water to fill his lungs. When his head breaks the surface a chorus of laughter greets him - six feet away Ellie is clambering back into her tube while Sarah tries to hold it steady. Next to him Anna is howling, her own hand barely maintaining a grip on his tube while the other clutches her stomach. He doesn’t bother climbing back into it; instead he propels himself forward through the water until he’s caught up to the girls.

Ellie shrieks and tries to paddle away, but she’s too slow, and Joel has her flipped into the water in a matter of seconds. He waits until she surfaces, gulps in a bit of air, and then promptly dunks her again.

She comes back up sputtering, a hand frantically trying to wipe her face clean. “Rude!” is all she manages, scooping a hand through the water to splash him. It hits him in the chest - he can still hear Sarah and Anna laughing - and he propels himself forward to hook an arm around her waist and hoist her up over his shoulder. It takes more effort to keep them afloat - his back is gonna hate him for this later, fifty-seven is really a bit too old to be lifting teenagers, even ones as scrawny as Ellie - but he paddles them unevenly back over towards Anna.

“Caught you something, huh?” His wife calls, shielding her face when Ellie aims a splash of water her way too.

“Sarah neglected to mention the river was full of gremlins,” he says back, giving her a grin before sucking in a breath and plunging himself - and his squirming daughter - under the water once more. Only once they’ve surfaced again does he release her, the two of them treading water.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re an ass?” Ellie says playfully, splashing him again.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re a little shit?” He retorts, splashing her right back.

“Anyone ever tell either of you that you're exactly the same?” Anna cuts in from behind them, one hand still holding Joel’s tube.

“No,” they reply simultaneously, and she lets out another bark of laughter, echoed by Sarah on the other side of them.

“I’m never bringing y’all floating again,” she says teasingly, her head tipping back dramatically.

“Oh please,” Ellie doggy paddles forward, hoisting herself back into her tube next to her sister. “You’d be so bored doing this without us. You love us.”

Sarah scrunches up her nose, pretending to think for a moment before she leans over - nearly upsetting her own tube - and smacking a kiss onto her younger sister’s cheek. “Yeah, guess I do.”

thanks for reading!