#She's so sweet and always in a good mood and her smile is so infectious

[sleepdeprived-idiot]

One of my fav bus drivers right after an exam that I don't think I did terribly in <3333

[into-the-grey]

~Cheerleader~

Noah Sebastian x F!Reader

So I got the idea for this one after seeing the clip of Noah singing Cheerleader on a stream. I couldn't resist the idea, I have no idea if it's been done, but here we are.

Warnings: Smut, P in V (PLS wrap it up), Oral (both kinds), handjob, fingering, a couple lil spanks, some dirty talk, some embarrassment, kitchen sex, costumes, chores, Fall Guys, and amazon two hour delivery.

WC: 4.9k

Fic Masterlist

Taglist: @anything-more-than-human @blend-in-with-the-madness

Noah had been streaming for about an hour, and clearly he was in a good mood. Despite his cries of anguish and frustration, he was having a good time playing Fall Guys. The game was a pain in the ass, and a lot more difficult than people gave it credit for, but it was an easy game to stream and it was fun.

While Noah prattled away to his chat audience, Reed made herself busy around the house. She had been doing chores for most of the morning, finally getting through their seemingly never-ending laundry pile. Noah didn't know it, but Reed had his stream playing on her phone while she listened through her earbuds. His good mood was infectious, and it was great white noise while she cleaned the house.

Reed also enjoyed the music he played while he gamed. Noah had an eclectic taste in music, something Reed had always loved about him. His playlist today matched his upbeat demeanour, making her smile as he hummed along to the tunes.

As she folded the last of his pants, Reed picked up the now full basket of washing, heading back upstairs to deliver the clothes. Noah had a smile in his voice as he spoke, chuckling about something someone had said in the chat.

As Reed walked up the stairs, Noah began to sing along to his music. His sweet voice echoed down the hallway, just audible through her earbuds as she got closer to the room.

She paused, turning down the volume on her phone and standing outside. She giggled to herself while she watched him through the crack in his door. Only just able to see past his green-screen, she saw Noah dancing in his seat, bopping along to the chipper song while he sang.

'Oh, I think that I found myself a cheerleader, she is always right there when I need her...'

Reed smirked, quietly entering the room and placing the basket on the bed. She was hidden behind his green-screen, and Noah hadn't noticed her. He was too busy telling the chat how he hadn't been paying attention to the game.

Reed picked up a pair of rolled socks from the top of the basket, mischievously tossing them over the green screen panel and watching them fall on Noah's shoulder, rolling into his lap.

'Hey!' He called out, turning in his chair. He peered around the panel, seeing Reed standing with a cheeky smile.

'What?' She asked sweetly.

'Don't be throwing shit at me, I'm trying to win here!' He told her with a laugh.

'Oh, I'm sorry, should I crack out the Pom Pom's and a miniskirt? Maybe do the splits?' She shot back with a matching smile.

Noah's eyes widened, his hand covering his microphone, the game quickly forgotten. His fingers wrapped around the top of it like it was a toy, forgetting about the mute button while he tried to muffle the sounds of his curiosity.

'You have a cheerleader outfit?' He asked, looking over his shoulder at her.

'I have Amazon prime and free two hour delivery,' Reed said with a shrug. Noah knew the glint in her eye meant trouble, but it was trouble that he absolutely wanted to get into.

'Do it, I dare you.'

'Cute that you think I won't,' Reed laughed. 'But how about we make this interesting?'

'Oh no...'

Reed sauntered over, bending to meet his eye while he kept his hand over the microphone, his other hand hovering in front of his face, his fingers closed around nothing. Neither of them cared that the camera could see this exchange. If anything, Reed wanted the viewers to see, knowing they would keep bringing it up and driving him nuts throughout the stream.

Lowering her voice, Reed spoke in a hushed tone, practically purring. 'I'll make you a deal, if you win a game of Fall Guys, I'll wear a cheerleader outfit for the rest of the day. I'll even order one right now, just so it's ready if you win.'

Noah stared into her eyes, unable to find a hint of a bluff. His mouth opened and closed a few times, dumbstruck.

'Think you can do it?' She said, smirking, her face nearing his.

'I think this is about to be the longest stream of my life...' he breathed, 'I'm not quitting til I win. Go and order the outfit.'

'Good luck,' Reed said, leaving him with a quick peck on the lips.

As she left the room, she pulled her phone from her pocket, turning up the volume on his stream. With the delay, she caught the muffled sounds of Noah telling her to order the outfit. The chat was in a fit, trying to decipher the conversation.

Reed watched as her own face disappeared from the screen, grinning as Noah's cheeks flushed red.

'Uhm, okay, new plan, this stream ends when I win. Settle in y'all, we might be here a while.'

Laughing softly to herself, Reed quickly opened Amazon, rush-ordering a skimpy cheerleader costume. She made her way back down to the lounge, continuing with her pottering while she waited for the delivery and listening to Noah's renewed need for victory.

***

The costume arrived early, turning up an hour after Reed ordered it. As soon as she opened the small box, she sent a picture of the costume in its packaging to Noah, adding a silly cheer chant for good measure.

'Let's go No-ah, Let's go! x'

Switching to twitch, she perched herself on the end of the kitchen bench, watching him as he picked up his phone.

His eyes skimmed over the message, a smile blooming on his lips as he chuckled.

'I'm getting messages from my cheerleader,' he told the chat. 'I think she's watching the stream.'

Grinning, Reed switched apps, sending him another text message.

'I can motivate you in other ways too...'

Skimming through her photo album, she found a picture she had been saving for this exact kind of moment. A picture she had snapped after a shower, only her arm covering her top half, her bottom half obscured by steam.

Sending it to Noah, she swiped back to twitch and waited. She heard his phone buzz on the desk, and his eyes flitted to the screen. Quickly, he opened the message. His eyes practically bulged out of his head as he rushed to lock the phone and cleared his throat.

'Alright chat, after this round we're gonna take a quick break, I need a refill,' he said, holding up his glass and trying to regain his composure. He glared down the barrel of the camera, and Reed knew that look was meant for her.

Giggling softly to herself, she grabbed the costume and hopped off the bench, strolling down to his room. She quietly entered, hiding behind the green screen again as she made her way onto the bed. Silently, she took her earbuds out, putting them into their case. She placed the case and the costume in the laundry basket, moving the basket to the floor before crawling onto the bed and laying on her stomach, watching him play.

It didn't take long for the round to be over. Maybe ten minutes. As his little bean character returned to the matchmaking lobby, Noah told his viewers that he would be back. He muted his microphone and switched the display to a waiting screen before he turned in his chair, jumping as he spotted Reed smiling at him from the bed.

'Are you trying to kill me?' He asked, gesturing to his phone with a bewildered smile.

'I might be,' she said, her voice honey-sweet as she batted her eyelashes at him. Reed sat up, stepping over the laundry basket and standing in front of him. 'What can I say? It's fun to watch you squirm...'

Noah stood, taking his headphones off and leaving them on the chair before grabbing Reed's hips.

'You are going to drive me insane, woman.'

'That's the goal,' she told him, grinning as one hand slipped between them and cautiously caressed the front of his sweatpants. She could feel him stiffening in her hand, smirking as he groaned at her touch.

'Baby... that's not fair...' he breathed, nosing into her hair. The sweet floral scent of her perfume filled his senses, making him melt into her.

'Who said anything about fair, lover?'

'God, I hate you,' Noah groaned, running his hands up her sides, her shirt lifting with his fingers, and rolling his hips to grind himself against her palm.

'Do you?' She murmured. Her teasing tone was heaven, and he wanted more.

'No, not in the slightest,' he sighed, nipping at her neck.

'Good, because otherwise I'd have to take my costume and find some other poor twitch streamer to harass.'

'Don't you dare,' he snarled, his hands tightening on her waist, pulling her tightly to his chest. His lips trailed lightly over her skin, leaving soft kisses as he made his way from her neck to her lips.

'I love you too, baby,' Reed chuckled as he captured her lips with his.

One of his hands shifted, raising to caress her breast under her shirt, rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger as he chased her tongue. Reed slipped her hand into his boxers, wrapping her fingers around his length and stroking him.

'Fuck, Reed, I'm still streaming,' he breathed against her lips.

'They can't see us.'

'I can't take too long,'

'So don't.'

A soft moan left his throat as Reed quickened her strokes, precum leaking down his shaft and smearing under her fingers. She kissed him as he grunted, his hips rutting into her hand as she found the perfect rhythm to undo him.

'Good boy,' she whispered, 'are you close, baby? Are you gonna come for me?'

A sinful gasp fell from his lips, his fingers tightening on her arms as he leaned into her. His teeth grazed the skin of her neck as he mumbled obscenities, his climax twisting in his gut.

'Fuck,' he whispered, his hot breath tickling her neck as she smirked, feeling him twitching under her fingers.

'I know what you need,' she said, her teasing tone driving him further to the edge. Reed sank to her knees, Noah's hands on her shoulders as he steadied himself. Her lips locked around his tip, her tongue tracing the bottom of his length as she hollowed her cheeks and took him into her mouth.

'Oh god, baby, right there,' Noah groaned, bucking his hips. Reed hummed a soft laugh, the vibrations sending shockwaves through his body.

His fingers tightened on her shoulders, his head tipped back and his eyes screwed shut. Finally, his release hit him, emptying himself down her throat. Reed let his cock slip from her lips, swallowing quickly.

'Good?' She asked, batting her eyelashes.

'Very good,' Noah confirmed, his cheeks red as he breathed heavily. 'But now I really need that drink.'

Reed chuckled, rising to her feet in front of him. 'You clean yourself up, I'll handle the drink. You still have a game to win.'

'Oh, you suck,' Noah said teasingly.

Wiping her thumb over her bottom lip, Reed laughed. 'You liked it, though.'

With a smirk, he kissed her quickly before adjusting his pants.

'I swear, I'll win this game if it's the last thing I do,' he told her. 'You suck, but I love you.'

'Love you too, baby.'

***

Hours passed, the sun dipped low in the sky, and Noah was losing his mind. He had come so close to winning so many times. Every time, he fell just short.

Reed had even offered to call off the challenge, but he was determined. Boys and their games...

Reed continued to keep herself busy until she had nothing left to do but cook dinner. With the way the game was going, she figured Noah wasn't leaving the bedroom anytime soon, so she cooked and brought dinner up to him.

The pair sat and ate, talking to the chat. She saw a few people speculating about Noah's drive to win. Normally, he'd quit after a few failed rounds, but he'd been at this for six hours now.

While Noah picked at his stir-fry, he hummed the tune of cheerleader again. Reed couldn't help but giggle, eyeing the laundry basket.

'Baby, you know you can try again another day, right?'

'Nope. You issued a challenge, and I don't lose.'

'I dunno, seems like you've been losing all day...'

Noah raised his eyebrows, his mouth dropping open as he stared at her. 'You did not just say that to me.'

'And what if I did?'

'Alright! You do it then!' He cried, a laugh in his voice as he offered her the controller.

The chat sped up, watching the exchange.

'If they want me to, I will. It's your stream,' she reminded him with a shrug, pushing a piece of chicken around in her bowl.

As the chat caught up with their conversation, floods of 'yes!' And 'do it!' Filled the stream. Chuckling nervously, Reed speared the chicken, eating it quickly and putting the bowl on Noah's desk.

'Alright, let's go.'

Noah shot her a smug look as she took the controller. Settling into a comfortable position, Reed watched the screen.

She passed the first two rounds with ease, the third round was a little more difficult, and the fourth round she was the last person to qualify.

'You're shitting me,' Noah said, watching in disbelief as she navigated Fall Mountain.

'Baby, I was hyper fixated on this game, remember? I know the strategies,' Reed told him, beaming as she made her way through the obstacles.

As she neared the top, the crown began to drift down, and another bean threw themselves at it.

'NO!' Noah yelled, panicking for Reed.

'Shit! No- wait he missed!' She cried, running for the crown.

The little guy on screen launched for the crown, and suddenly everything froze. Fanfare erupted as the golden victory banner appeared on screen.

'Ha! That doesn't count as you winning, by the way,' Reed laughed, handing the controller back to Noah as the chat filled with laughter and screams of triumph.

'God damn it,' he groaned, 'still, you did good, baby.'

'Exactly, now go forth and do as I did,' she teased.

Feigning offence, Noah raised his middle finger, flipping her off playfully. 'Now I'm super determined.'

'And I'm gonna sit here and watch,' she told him, returning his gesture. 'Maybe you just need your cheerleader.'

'Maybe...'

***

The end was in sight. The timer ticked down, and Noah's little guy had the tail. Only seconds stood between him and victory, but five other people were chasing him and they were closing in.

'Come on, motherfucker, run!' Noah growled, trying his hardest to outrun the horde of colourful beans.

'Ten seconds,' Reed said, leaning forward in her seat. She was just as invested now, wanting to see Noah win.

As he tried to leap from the centre ring onto a platform, he missed the jump, falling down.

'No! No, shit!' Noah yelled, spamming his buttons to get back up. The crowd closed in on him, and he struggled against them. There was no way he was getting out of this one...

'No! Someone's got my tail!' He cried as the 'tail lost' message popped up. The horde was stuck, all piled on top of each other. He began to spam the grab button, hoping for the best.

'Three... two... one...' Reed counted down.

'Fuck!'

As he was about to slam the controller down, the golden banner appeared on the screen.

'What!?' They cried in unison.

Noah's little guy appeared on a podium, a crown dropping onto his head.

'I finally won! I'm free!' He shouted, laughing as he leaned back in his chair.

'You did it!' Reed grinned.

Noah began to bid goodbye to his chat, ending the stream and turning off the Xbox.

'I need to get out of this chair, holy shit,' he told his viewers. 'And I think that my cheerleader might kill me if I don't at least come and help with the dishes.'

'You would be correct, sir.'

Reed waved goodbye to the chat as Noah ended the stream. The moment they were no longer being watched, Noah swung his chair to face her.

'You owe me an evening in a costume, and I think you owe me tomorrow in the costume as well,' he told her.

'Tonight, yes, tomorrow, we'll talk.'

Standing and stretching, Noah groaned.

'You change, I'll take this downstairs,' he said, picking up the bowls from their dinner.

'God, you're so bossy,' Reed teased, standing up and kissing him quickly. Noah grinned as he left the room, leaving her to change.

The costume was tight, and very short. The top was more of a crop top than an actual tank, but it was only a Halloween costume; she was lucky it was more than a bikini top. The skirt lacked any built in shorts, and the fabric felt lighter than it should have. But, the ensemble was surprisingly comfortable, and definitely sexy.

Trotting downstairs, she debated jumping into the kitchen with a cheesy cheer chant, but none sprang to mind.

Instead, she waltzed in, the pleats of the skirt swishing with her hips, and stood in front of him.

'One cheerleading outfit,' she announced, 'you earned it, fair and square.'

Noah grinned, looking her over. The fabric barely covered her ass, and the top had a much lower cut than a real cheer costume, showing a considerable amount of cleavage.

He stepped closer to her, his large hands tracing over her bare midriff.

'Can you wear this every time I win on stream?' He asked, 'after I'm offline, of course.'

'What, you don't want people to see your personal cheerleader?'

'Oh god no, this is for my eyes only,' he told her, a hint of possessiveness in his tone.

Reed chuckled, rolling up onto her toes and pressing a kiss to his lips before rolling her eyes at him. 'If you're so sure about it...'

His hand traced down her body, slipping underneath her skirt and gliding up between her thighs.

'You know, I've always thought your eyes were so pretty,' he mused, his fingers grazing over her drenched panties, 'but I think they're prettier when I make them roll back.'

'Noah!' She admonished, taking a step back from him as she chuckled. He knew she loved a game of cat and mouse, but he'd been tortured enough.

'Say it again, baby,' he purred, pulling her back to him and dragging her panties out of the way. He drew a long stripe through her folds, gathering her arousal and using it to glide in circles around her swollen clitoris.

The sigh that followed was heaven to him, and she gripped hard at his biceps, her body melting into his as she whimpered his name.

'You tortured me all day. You can't seriously think I haven't been planning how to get mine?'

His middle and ring finger sunk into her drenched pussy, earning another beautiful gasp from her. He searched inside of her, curling his fingers against the soft, spongy place deep in her core.

'Oh god, Noah,' she gasped, her cheeks turning pink. 'Baby, the windows,' she managed to stammer.

'So the neighbours might get a show,' he shrugged, smirking as she squirmed on her toes. Her muscles clenched around his fingers while she moaned, her sounds filling the kitchen. He nosed into her hair, nipping lightly at her neck and grinning against her skin as her hands splayed out on the benchtop behind her.

'Oh shit.' Her cheeks flushed, her eyes closing and her head falling back, granting him access to her throat, his free hand wrapping around her neck and pinning her in place. Her chest heaved as she breathed deeply, letting her legs spread further.

'Good girl,' he breathed, his voice low in her ear. Reed practically melted at the sound, her hips bucking against his hand as his thumb swirled over her swollen clitoris. 'All this, just for me?'

She nodded, sighing again as his teeth raked over her throat. Inch by inch, Noah kissed his way up her neck, stopping at her lips and taking her lower lip between his teeth. Her groan had him straining against his pants, eager to sink into her. He'd been craving it all day, but he wanted to rev her up first.

Swiftly, his fingers disappeared from her pussy and his hand left her throat. He presented his fingers to her, her slick glistening on them.

'Open,' he told her, locking eyes with her. She did as he asked, opening her mouth and letting her tongue hang out. Noah let her take his fingers into her mouth, sucking the juices from his fingers the same way she had with his cock earlier in the day. Her soft tongue ran under his knuckles, sending a wave of tingles down Noah's spine.

'Good,' he praised as she gave him his hand back. He stepped closer, reaching down and wrapping his hands around her thighs. In a fluid motion, he lifted her to sit on the bench, crashing his lips against hers. 

Agonisingly slowly, he trailed his lips down her body. She whined as he lifted the top of the costume, sucking her pert nipple into his mouth. With his other hand he slid her panties off, tugging them free from under her ass and letting them drop onto the floor. 

Reed tangled her fingers into his hair, moaning softly as his tongue explored her skin and desperate for him to reach her pussy. Noah noticed her gentle shoves, looking up and grinning at her.

'Do you want something?' he asked, freeing her nipple.

'Noah-'

'Ask nicely, baby,' he teased, taking her nipple into the crook of his thumb and forefinger, pinching it.

'God,' she gasped, 'come on, baby, you know what I want.' 

Noah nodded as he pushed her down on the bench. 'I have no idea what you're talking about,' he said coyly, 'you're going to have to use your words.'

Rolling her eyes, Reed shot a glare at him. Noah raised his eyebrows, staring her down.

'You want to be a brat, huh?' he said, tilting his head and running his right hand down her leg. His hand wrapped around her ankle, lifting it and placing her heel on the edge of the bench, her right leg naturally copying the movement of her left.

'What are you gonna do about it?' she smirked, letting her knees fall open so the skirt danced at the top of her thighs.

Noah huffed a laugh, his arm crossing his body in a flash and snaring her left ankle in his left hand. He lifted her leg quickly, her knee tucking into her chest, and brought his free hand across her ass cheek in a smooth smack. Reed gasped at the sting, her pussy clenching against nothing.

'You want to try again? Use your words, sweetheart.'

'Fucking hell,' she gasped, earning another smack across her reddening ass cheek. Noah smirked at her, rubbing his hand over the inflamed skin.

'Not those ones, they're for later.'

Reed bit her lip as her caressed her, the sting easing under his cool touch. 'Please, baby, taste me.'

'Good job,' he chuckled, easing her leg down and kissing the inside of her thigh. 'Was that so hard?'

'No.' 

Noah could hear the giggle in her voice, smiling as he kissed his way under the skirt and parted her folds with his tongue. The moment he touched his toungue to her swollen nib, her back arched.

'You really wanted it, didn't you?'

'Mhmm,' she hummed, her fingers twisting into his hair again as he returned to his favourite dessert. Writing the filthiest poems with his tongue, he listened to her sounds, feeling her body convulsing beneath him. Every now and then she would breathe his name, or let out a whine.

He slid his fingers back into her waiting pussy, grinning aginst her as she squeaked and groaned. He glanced up, seeing her teeth clamped down on her lower lip.

'You don't need to hold it back, baby, I'm only just getting started,' he told her. 'Go on, let it come...'

Returning his tongue to her clit, her legs clamped over his ears. With his free hand, he gripped her thigh, holding it to his head and devouring her. Her moans were muffled, but after a moment her orgasm began to drip down his fingers while she squirmed against him.

After a moment, she tugged at his hair, begging for a moment to breathe. He smirked as he stood, slipping his fingers out of her and tasting her orgasm.

'You good, baby?' he asked, leaning over her and caging her against the bench, his face hovering above hers. She nodded, her chest heaving.

'So good,' she panted. 'So, so good.'

'Good,' he laughed, kissing her gently. 'Because I meant it, I'm not done.'

She grinned up at him, running her fingers across his cheek lazily. 'I'm so screwed, aren't I?' she asked.

Noah laughed, taking her hand from his cheek and kissing her palm. 

'Abso-fucking-lutely.'

'Oh shit.'

It took him no time at all to free his cock and position it against her waiting entrance. He pushed it lightly, teasing her as the tip begged to slide in, wet with precum.

'Deep breath, baby girl,' he said, tilting his head and smirking down at her.

Reed complied, her lungs filling, and as she breathed out, Noah began to sink into her. Their sighs filled the room as he inched his way in, feeling her stretching to let him in. 

'Oh god,' she moaned, her fingers finding the edge of the bench and clamping down around it.

'God you feel so good,' he said, his eyes closing for a moment and savouring the sensation of her around him. 'Sit up,' he commanded. Reed reached for him, easing herself up and wrapping an arm around the back of his neck to steady herself.

'Fucking hell, Noah.'

'I told you that you'd need those words later,' he grinned sinfully. Her pussy flexed on his cock as he spoke, reminding him of her proclivity for dirty talk. 

Reed grinned, craning her neck to press a kiss to his lips again. Slowly Noah began to roll his hips, drawing himself out and plunging back into her. His hand snaked up her spine, holding her up while his strokes searched for that spongy spot.

'Fuck I love you,' he breathed, raking his teeth over her neck again. 

'I love you,' she told him in return, her jaw falling slack while her body revolted against her, the high racing on already.

Noah grunted while he rutted up into her, his own high chasing hers. She had teased him so much that he was left desperate for another released. She knew how to wind him up, and she'd done a phenomenal job of it all day.

'Come for me, baby girl,' he said, grabbing at her jaw and thumbing over her lower lip. 'Come with me, all over me, I wanna hear you.'

Reed groaned, the smouldering in her pussy becoming a blaze at his words, her orgasm filling her body and her eyes rolling back. Her cries grew louder as the high intensified, Noah's determined thrusts only adding to the pleasure that made her head spin.

Her sounds drove him to the edge, falling over it close behind her. His thrusts began to falter, burying deep into her pussy and staying there while thick ropes spilled out of him. He pulled her into a deep kiss while they came down from their highs, his knees shaking while he leaned against her.

'God I love you,' he breathed, resting his forehead against hers.

'How much do you love me?' She chuckled, her eyes flitting away from his face for a moment.

'I just spent all day getting edged and playing an absolutely bullshit god-damn video game to win you, is that enough?' he asked, laughing and thumbing over her flushed cheeks.

'Maybe, but do you love me enough to apologise to the neighbours?' Reed said, looking to the window again.

Noah paused, following her gaze and seeing the next-door neighbours standing on their second floor balcony. The man's eyes were wide, and his wife's jaw hung open.

'Oh shit.' Noah slipped out of Reed swiftly, adjusting himself in his pants and rushing to close the curtains. His face burned red as he turned to face Reed, his back against the wall. 'When I said the neighbours might get a show, I didn't mean it!' he laughed. 

Reed crossed her legs, cackling at Noah while her own face turned bright red.

'You owe them a gift basket, and we have to move.'

Noah nodded, a sheepish grin on his face.

'Yup. You start looking for houses, I'll see if there's a "sorry we traumatised you with accidental exhibitionism" gift basket.'

'Deal.'

[lunemai]

L I K E ?

Honey!Y/n x Luke Castellan

Summary: Luke likes honey? okay believable, but still, Luke liking someone? so impossible.

OR

Luke realizing he likes you.

Warnings; the term y/n is almost never mentioned in my writings so her widely known nickname is honey in this, it's HEAVILY implied this isn't her real name. she/her pronouns, fem!y/n, sweetness all over, physical touch, third person view at first, and that's it I think.

•••••••••••••••••••••★•••••••••••••••••••••

i. the reading thing

"How do you even read that?, I mean you do know nearly all of us suffer from something you might not know about called dyslexia, don't you find it prideful?" Luke was nearly tired of the girls who nagged you on and on mad about your skill in reading even with dyslexia.

"Yes, I do find pride in my reading skills. It's no different than the way you find pride in your archery abilities, Florence," you responded, never with irritation or sadness, you always lived up to the name granted to you.

They call her Honey. She's always been sweet and kind to everyone around her. Luke has known her for a while now, but he never really thought about her deeply. She's just always been there, like a steady presence in his life. Sure, he's been noticing things about her that he never really paid attention to before.

The way she smiles when she greets you, her infectious laughter, and how she never seems to have a bad word to say about anyone.

He doesn't know why he's suddenly seeing her in a different light, but there's something about her that's drawing him in. Maybe it's because she never spoils in a mood, or maybe it's because she's always been there for everyone without ever asking for anything in return. Whatever it is, there should be a proper explanation for it.

"Maybe you should stop staring and just walk up to her," Chris says nudging Luke as he moves his stare anywhere that isn't you.

Luke uncrosses his arms and turns to walk away, "I don't know what you're talking about man." Luke mumbles as he starts to walk away, where? don't ask him where he doesn't know, yet.

Chris walks along Luke matching his fast pace, "Okay, so you wouldn't mind if I asked her out?" Luke stopped in his tracks and turned his body towards Chris "Why would I? At least two guys ask her out, a day." Luke says nudging his head towards a son of Ares already moving to approach you.

Luke doesn't blame him, you're stunning, always glowing brighter than the sun, and somehow no daughter of Aphrodite draws attention like you do. Yet that's not all, you're smart, ambitious, and determined, how can someone be so amazing all the time?

After minutes of Luke staring off into space, Chris lets out an audible huff, "Wouldn't mind my ass."

ii. flowers

No, it's just a joke, he wouldn't actually be right. Why am I even thinking about this a day later?

Though I mean seriously, a son of Ares? pfft, as if.

He's not good enough for her.

Are you?

an ugly voice said.

Maybe not, but I do know I'm willing to try, for her at least.

Honey knelt in the wildflower field, her slender fingers delicately plucking vibrant blooms from the earth. The sun bathed the meadow in a golden glow, casting a radiant halo around her as she gathered the colorful blossoms, her focus entirely on the beautiful task at hand.

My eyes widened in awe at the sight of Honey amidst the sea of wildflowers, her quiet grace juxtaposed against the lively landscape.

I approached her with cautious steps, not wanting to disturb the tranquility of the moment.

"Hey, Honey right?" I ask, my voice is filled with fake curiosity. Startled by my sudden presence, Honey looked up, her cheeks flushed with surprise.

A soft smile graced her lips "Erm- yeah, but you already knew that Luke..." she said, yet there was no hint of judgment in her voice.

"Oh right, yeah I did." I rub the back of my neck, okay what? I've never been this nervous. Where's overly confident Luke when I need him?

"I was just wondering- I mean I've seen you around you know and I was wondering if you wanted to like go apple picking with me tomorrow or something? I don't know we've never even talked so we don't have to." yet again she gave me another soft smile, maybe in sympathy. I'm not sure.

Fuck this. I'm not a nervous guy.

I knelt down and plucked a wildflower, just as beautiful as her.

Her gaze shifts from the flower in my hand, to me.

"I know I'm being weird, of course, I know who you are." slowly just in case she wants to protest I reach up and pull a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"Every time you walk into the room, I can't help but watch you. It's like you have this light around you that draws me in, and I find myself captivated by everything you do. The way you smile, the way you laugh, even the way you get lost in your thoughts- it's all so intriguing to me. I just wanted you to know that you've been on my mind a lot, and I can't seem to shake this feeling of wanting to know you better." I say softly.

placing the flower there on her ear, I couldn't help but admire how the vibrant flower complements her natural beauty. The vivid petals of the flower stood out against her soft skin, creating a striking contrast that accentuated her loveliness.

feeling overwhelmed by the sight of her, awestruck by her beauty that outshone even the most exquisite bloom, I look away only looking back up at the sound of her soft laugh.

"Oh Luke, please don't feel embarrassed; if anything I'm flattered really," she gives me that smile again, gods I like the feeling of being the one who makes her smile like that.

"If it helps I've been thinking of you too, the way you carry yourself with such confidence, I've caught myself looking for you in a crowd, hoping to catch your eye and share a smile." Relief urges itself through my body, and hope swims in my eyes.

I nod with a smile on my lips,

"I'd love to go apple picking with you."

This felt like it took me YEARS to complete, I'm on summer break so i'll be on here more often. Thank you guys for reading and remember to follow me!! 😼

should I make a tag list?

REQUEST ARE VERY MUCH OBLIGED.

[igglemouse]

This is new isn't it? Pascal is going outside for his jog instead of pounding away at the treadmill. I can't blame him, it's a really beautiful Thursday morning with the sun providing a comforting warmth to the start of the day and a caressing breeze to go along with it. I'm wondering, does he really need to do it without a shirt? He can be such a showoff sometimes but I guess he's preparing for some future sportswear commercial that he'll be starring in.

When Pascal makes it back home he's practically glowing. It's nice to see him in such a good mood and with an infectious smile. I feel like he's been a little detached lately. I'd like to think that maybe approaching fatherhood is getting to him but I find out there is something else on his mind.

"I made the all eleven!" he announces, grin widening, eyes bright and open with excitement that I simply don't understand.

"The what?" Yeah, I'm completely blank. I know it' fútbol related but I still have no clue what he's talking about. Living with him means I've learned a little bit of the jargon so I'm not completely hopeless. I know there are eleven players on the field for each team for example so progress?have no idea what he's talking about, I'm sure it has to do with futbol. Everything regarding him has to do with that.

"It's the best eleven players for the season!" he says full of pride. "It's a huge honor, lets everyone know that I'm playing well," and while it might seem silly to me I can tell for him it is everything. It means a lot to be recognized by your peers after all.

"Well, I always tell you that you rock, don't I?" I say with a grin and a nudge of my elbow. He really is bursting with pride and I know he deserves it. No one on the team works harder than him and I say this not knowing any of his teammates at all but how can you doubt his dedication?

He makes a playful scoffing sound. "I mean, you do, but you never watch the games so how could you know?" He's teasing, at least I hope! He's never made me feel bad about not going to the games...

"Oh, yes, but-"

"Oh! I am only just kidding," he says quickly, realizing that he was about to send me on a guilt trip. "It doesn't botther me, you know that!" He gives me his easy smile, the one that had drawn me to him at the start of the year, the one that always makes me feel better about him despite his obvious flaws. "I love that you're not into it, honestly. It's nice to have someone that sees me as something more than a player, more than my stats or performances, that sees me as a person."

"Oh..." I didn't quite expect that, he doesn't open up much as you all know. "Of course! I care more about your diaper changing skills right now than your kicking. You could go the rest of your career without scor-"

"Hey! Don't jynx it!" he yelps out as if I had the power to do that. I just share a laugh with him because I know his dirty little secret. He's very superstitious. I hear most athletes are. It's actually amusing and adoring. So I mock zip my lips tight to make sure I say no such thing but I'm imagining him breaking the record for most goals in my mind to reverse any sort of bad mojo I put on him with my suggestions.

Honestly, the main thing on my mind is the baby. It's hard to think of anything else. I'm just thinking about all the things I'll need to do for her and how much she is going to change the outlook of my life. Even as I bake sugar cookies I'm already imagining what she might like, what kind of diet she will need, will she have my nose? Will she have his chin? I just hope that she takes from me and Pascal and not the man that is unfortunately my father...

Any ways, I baked the cookies because I have a serious sweet tooth right now and it needs to be appeased!

I sit down and settle into my seat and fully prepared to devour the whole plate but just as I start nibbling on the first one there is a loud and insistent knock at the front door. It must be Sara, I think, or maybe even Irene, I have not heard from her lately and I know she's been busy searching for investors so I really should talk to her soon.

It was neither. Unfortunately my warm and cozy day was about to get a lot hotter.

It's Martin. Yes, that Martin, the one who fired my friend Irene for merely being a friend of mines and the same Martin who has gone out of his way to sabotage my food stand and here he is before me with a pleasant smile on his face as if he's done something praise worthy.

"I warned you," he says smirking and smug. The very look on his face makes my blood boil. I'm not sure why I stepped outside, maybe it was to face my enemy, show him I'm far from scared of this old man.

"Why are chu here?" my voice is thick with anger as I try my best to speak Simlish. "Estás loco..." Normal people don't go out of their way to destroy a small business then show up at the victims door to brag about it. The man is a living breathing cliche of vindictiveness.

He doesn't reply at first because he's too busy looking me up and down, his gaze falling to my belly. "I see you've been eating too much of that terrible food of yours."

"Im pregnant," the excuse slips out of my mouth before it is too late. I mean it is obvious but I don't want to share anything about my personal life with this husk of a man. Maybe I said it hoping that it would draw some sympathy from him, some guilt of what he's done to me, but I can tell by the scowl on his face that he's incapable of that. "Please, go-"

"Oh great, a terrible person is bringing another terrible person into the world. The father really wasted his seed on you," his insult is of course laced with venom and son intense that it confuses me. I've done nothing to this man but deny him my employment. That's it.

So I straighten my back and lift my chin and show him that his insults will not land with me. "Why. Are. Chu. Here?"

"To make sure you realize that you can't just open your crappy food stand wherever you please. There are rules and regulations and licenses to get, you know," he's enjoying this. He acts as if he's some noble enforcer of the law and not just a bitter man who wants revenge for me pricking his ego.

"Yes yes, I know..." I keep my tone steady and calm although I know my face is red, I know my anger is evident. "Gracia-"

"Of course," he continues, his voice softening. A mockery of concern. "I figured you might need a job so the offer of you coming to work for me is still on the table-"

I grow tense, my body tightens and I am sure I am ready to snap. My fists ball up against my sides and for a second I imagine how satisfying it would feel to drive my right hand right through his nose. I'm not very strong but he's old and it would knock the smile right off of his face. I would do it if not for the baby. What if he retaliates? What if he pushes me? It's not worth the risk, so I just grit my teeth.

"Vete a la chingada..."

He just laughs and the sound makes my skin crawl. He's feeding off my anger I think. "Ah, I know I've made you mad now. Can't speak Simlish when you're pissed off huh? Are you even here legally, I wonder?"

"L-leave."

He wasn't going to. He stands there, feet firmly planted on the ground, smirk firmly on his lips, and lets me know that he's not leaving. I could feel the urge to strike, a need to show him that I wasn't going to be pushed around, and just when my shoulder twitches the front door opens...

"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU!?" Pascal voice comes booming in and I swear its the loudest I've ever heard it. There is fire in his eyes and intention in his movements as he shoves his finger towards Martin with such intensity that the old man is stepping back without being touched. Pascal is usually so laid back, so indifferent, to see him flipped onto protective mode was thrilling. Now it was my turn to smirk.

"W-wait, P-Pascal!?!" the old man is stammering, wavering, and clearly confused. "H-hey man calm down I'm a big fan! I-I didn't know-"

"Who. Are. You? You're harassing a pregnant woman?!" He continues, each word a hammer and aimed directly at Martin. The old man is frozen, wondering what to say and what to do and I admit it feels so good to see but I'm starting to worry about Pascal. If he punches this man or harms him in any way it'll be his career that will be in trouble and so I step in.

"Pascal, ess okay, he's nobody-"

"Frida, get inside. I'll handle this!" His tone is firm and leaves no room for argument, and for a second it does sting. While I'm happy he's ready to protect me I feel like this is my fight and the least I can do is watch Martin tremble and read the regret in his eyes but I think I'm over thinking this. Instead I should realize this is the first time he's really shown any passion when it comes to his daughter. So I sigh, give his shoulder a squeeze, and retreat inside.

"M-Mr. Alcocer I-I'm sorry! I had no idea s-she was your w-wife? S-she's beautiful a-and-"

and that was the last thing I heard. Heh, he thinks we're married. Not yet any way...

Well, this was supposed to be a relaxing day...and a relaxing week...but it's been the opposite and mostly thanks to Martin. I really hope Pascal has scared him off but I can't spend too much energy worrying about that, not with a baby on the way...

Frida Varela Index ~ Episode 8.4

[tiffanytoms]

Happy Halloween 👻

Obviously this is a very bittersweet (or maybe just tragic? Yeah, probably just tragic...) holiday for Jily fans, but I thought I'd post the epilogue from my story What Are You Doing to Me? which can also work as a traumatic one shot in honor of this night!

Enjoy! 😁🎃

Halloween Night, 1981

"Babe, we can't dress him up like a stag every year," Lily teased, flicking at her husband's fake antlers, currently perched lopsidedly atop his messy-as-always hair. They matched a tinier set that very adorably adorned her young son's head, making him even more of a carbon copy of his father than usual. It hadn't been all of five minutes after James had held his son for the first time, his eyes practically morphing into hearts, when a mischievous smirk had slid onto his face.

"What?" Lily had asked skeptically, utterly exhausted.

"Lils…"

"Yes?"

"Baby…"

"Yes?" Lily had been in no mood for banter.

He grinned down to Harry. "I knew I'd be right, but—" he held up Harry to face his mum, "— I didn't realize I'd be this right."

Lily had laughed, and then promptly yelled at James because laughing right now fucking hurt. 

Yeah, so it turned out their baby looked like James, but Lily was still holding out hope that perhaps he'd act more like her. Naturally, she ignored all contrary evidence — like that he seemed born ready to fly, already had infectious charm, a whole bunch of nerve, and, you know, the fact that there seemed to be a rather familiar swagger to his first little steps. But then again, Harry was just such a good, sweet baby; and sure, Lily hadn't been around for James' infancy, but there was no way that he could have been so well-behaved back then. (James had pointed out that she was the more likely out of the two of them to throw temper tantrums, but she ignored that too.)

"Why not?" James asked innocently with puppy eyes that rivaled Padfoot's. "They still fit him, and look how happy he is!"

"And they'll keep fitting him every year since you keep transforming them larger," Lily responded. However, she lacked any true opposition in her words, because Harry really did look so over the moon to be matching his dad, emerald eyes gleaming as he leaned back in his crib, clapping his hands. She couldn't help but gush over him.

James pulled out another pair of plushie adult antlers out of his back pocket and offered them to Lily. "Is someone perhaps jealous, and in need of her own pair?"

Lily shook her head, snatching the headband and jamming it over her hair. "When'd you make this?"

"Just now, on the couch."

She grabbed both of James' cheeks, smooshing his face before kissing him between every word. "You are such a dork."

James grinned as he wrapped his arms around his wife's hips, pulling her flush against him. "I'm pretty sure you meant adorkable."

Lily smiled as she tilted her head to the side and rested her forearms on his broad shoulders. She wasn't altogether too subtle about just how much she was checking him out in this sweater, but so what? James was her husband, and her husband was a whole damn meal.

"Pretty sure I meant I'm gonna need you to…" Lily leaned into his ear and whispered something that made him flush almost instantly.

James' jaw dropped, faux-scandalized as his fingers dug into her skin possessively. "Lily!" He shook his head and laughed. "Harry's first real sentence is going to be something filthy, and you'll have no one to blame but yourself."

Lily shrugged. "I don't know about that. We could always pin it on Padfoot."

James chuckled, leaning into her as his hands roamed her back and he swooped her down for a kiss. Lily giggled as he held her there for a moment, rubbing his nose against hers. "Mrs Potter, that is simply devious."

She gave him a fresh peck. "You love it."

"I do, oh, how I do…" Harry making strange gurgling noises had them come back to standing straight. "I know, Harry, I know." Harry continued making nonsensical squeaks that James pretended to understand perfectly. "Why yes, very astute observation, son. You should be wary of red-headed minxes trying to steal your heart."

"Oh hush, you," Lily reprimanded her husband as she took Harry in her arms. He immediately started playing with her hair as she cooed to him. "Happy Halloween, Harry, happy Halloween!" She tenderly pushed his wild hair off his forehead as she bounced him. "Next year we'll take you Trick-Or-Treating," she promised hollowly. Lily missed the sad look James gave them; after all, they'd never expected to spend a second Halloween in hiding. "Even if we have to do it from under your Dada's Invisibility Cloak." Lily looked up to James, who quickly cleared his face of melancholy. "Did Albus mention when he was bringing that back, by the way?"

James shook his head. "Nah, he didn't."

Lily balanced Harry on her hip and swayed them gently. "I still don't get it. I mean, I heard the man say he has the means to turn himself invisible with my own ears. So, why's he gotta take ours?"

James sighed. "I don't know, babe." The way he said it very much implied, 'When Albus Dumbledore asks you to do something, you just do it.' His eyes landed on the camera Padfoot had dropped off on his last visit, and he instantly jumped at the chance to brighten the mood. He picked it up and pointed it his family's way. "All right, my deers! Harry, Harry— look at Dada!" Harry tittered and did so. "Okay, on the count of three, we're gonna say 'Prongs,' okay? Okay Harry: one, two, three—"

"PWONGS!"

Lily gasped as James took the shot and then practically punched the air in excitement.

"Good job, Harry!" Lily encouraged.

"Yes, Harry, yes!" He stole Harry from Lily and made him fly across the room in his arms, one of his son's all-time favorite pastimes. Harry cheered and giggled as James continued to shout, "A genius! Babe! Our baby is a bloody genius!"

Lily watched the scene, heart melting with love, sweet, sweet love. She adored her family so friggin' much, and truly would do anything to protect it.

James flew Harry back to her and removed the bulky camera strap from off his neck, managing to one-handedly make it face them as he stood by Lily's side and clutched Harry to his chest. "Here, let's get one of the whole Pwongs family."

Lily laughed as she took Harry's tiny hand and leaned into her husband. He kissed her cheek right before the flash went off, completely taking her by surprise. "Sneak attack," he joked.

Lily couldn't wait to see how the photo developed. She thought it had the potential to be one for her nightstand.

Of course, she never found out.

Only a few seconds later, the sound of their front door being blasted apart downstairs echoed across the whole house. Lily and James both jumped, making three sets of plushie antlers and the camera fall to the floor, the lens cracking sounding like a death knoll.

Lily and James turned to each other and she saw her own sickening panic reflected right back at her. No, her brain short-circuited, it's rowdy trick-or-treaters. It's the neighbors. It's Tiger. It's not… it can't be…

But she knew who it was. She had always known who was coming for her, who was still fuming over her years of evading him, who was here. This time, she feared she wouldn't be able to get away. This time, she knew she was about to die.

James reanimated first, shoving Harry into Lily's arms as he pushed her to the window. She realized they both didn't have their wands. If she recalled correctly, hers was probably still on the kitchen counter, last having been used to clean up the mess of James' attempt to make shepherd's pie from scratch. "Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off—" Seeing his wife remain frozen, he opened the window himself, only to be greeted by a solid brick wall. He yelled out in frustration, punching it to see if it was really there. "Shit!"

Voldemort had magically trapped them inside, and they'd been having too precious of a moment to notice.

Downstairs, she heard Tiger let out an almighty hiss and Voldemort cry out as though he'd been brutally scratched. It was a small victory that ended too soon when she heard that horrid spell, followed immediately by a vivid green light making the carpet just below the nursery door glow. Tiger…

"No… no…" Lily cried, squeezing Harry to her chest.

James sunk to Lily's eye level, gripping her face right in front of his own. "Lils, baby, listen to me," he whispered urgently. "Listen to me." Her terrified darting eyes, frantically searching for a way out, any way out, finally focused on his. A small wave of completely unwarranted comfort washed over her, even though tears were fully streaming down her face. "You have to protect him. I know you can do it," he told her steadily.

What he was planning to do — go down and face Voldemort and buy her time to perform her shield magic — was slowly starting to sink in. "NO. No, James, don't go, please—" she pleaded, wildly gripping for his wrist. She was holding on to both her boys, her boys; why would anyone try to take them from her? Why? "Stay! I can protect you. I can protect both of you!"

Lily's vision was swimming, but she could still so clearly feel the pain in James' gaze. "We don't know that, Lils. It's never worked at protecting two people before." His hand quivered as his thumbs swiped at her cheeks. "Maybe the only reason it hasn't been activated yet is because I'm still here."

"No, baby, no…" Lily sobbed, leaning into his palm. She knew they were running out of time, but she couldn't lose him. Not like this. "Please, don't leave—"

James was holding back his own tears as he moved in to kiss her forehead and put his hand over her heart. "I'm right here. I'll always be right here." He bent to Harry and kissed the top of his head; their son, their precious little son, let out a little laugh with the action, truly having no idea what was going on. "Save Harry?" he asked determinedly as he stood tall.

Lily jutted out her chin, summoning every ounce of strength her body had left to answer him. Her husband needed her. Her son needed her. "Yes. I will." She felt her jaw twitching, but her conviction remained solid, I'll do whatever it takes. 

James shot her a wink. "That's my girl."

He turned to leave, but Lily wasn't ready. She wanted just one more moment, one more second with her man. That wink had brought her back to a time when the possibilities had been endless, and they weren't yet cursed — even if it had felt like they were at the time. She yanked James back to her and sunk her free hand into his silky hair, kissing him like they were 16 again and he'd just cornered her against a desk to try to get her to admit that she loved him back just as much as he loved her. Only now, they both already knew.

She could faintly hear the creak of the first step, alerting them to the fact that Voldemort had deduced that they were upstairs. They were out of time. She quickly tried to imprint the feel of James' lips into her mind forever, to memorize the love she felt with Harry sandwiched between them, delighted he was getting hugged by both his parents at once — but it was over too soon. "I love you, James Potter. I've always loved you." Her voice crackled and was water-logged, but he still understood.

Lily watched as a tear escaped from one of his gorgeous hazel eyes and rolled down his cheek, over his smattering of freckles, to where his dimple should have been, where it had been not minutes ago. He tried to smirk, but his lips didn't quite make it. "I know, Lily. I love you too. Until the very end."

He turned and walked out the door, and Lily knew it was the last time she'd ever see her husband again. She threw things in front of the door, barricading them in desperately, all while knowing it was no use. She just needed to do something with her hands to distract herself from James' suicide mission and the fact that she wasn't going after him. She was trying to find a way to not completely fall apart over the fact that she'd just let her heart walk out the door and she wasn't going to protect him — the man who had always been there for her was about to die, and she was doing nothing. 

Harry babbled at her chest, a string of Mamas and Dadas, and she looked down at him to try to stop from hyperventilating without James. He looked so very much like his father. "Mama loves you," she sobbed. "Dada loves you." Why wasn't the shield working yet? What more did she bloody need? She felt like she was losing her mind.

Then she heard it. After a few taunts from James and a high-pitched cackle, she heard the worst curse in the world and felt a body crumble to the floor, reverberating through her bones and sucking out her will to live.

She knew James was dead.

Lily screamed, feeling her heart ripping in two, or maybe it was her very soul; all she knew was that he was gone, her James was gone, and she didn't— no, she couldn't be here without him. Never again would she see his smile light up the hall when he waited for her after a class they didn't share. Never again would she wake up to his eager face, ready to tell her about all the games he and Harry had already played that morning. Never again would she feel his arms wrapped around her tightly when he inevitably fell asleep as they watched a Muggle movie together on the couch. Never again. 

But, Harry. Save Harry. Harry needs you. Since when had her inner monologue sounded like James? She looked at her son, emerald eyes wide and curious, wondering why his mum was screaming bloody murder. All she could see was love. This was her child, her baby with James, who looked just like him, who was a part of him — and she was going to save him.

She felt her heart pump out its final beats for herself before lurching and bursting forth its last protective bubble, straight into Harry who was still cradled against her chest. The filmy surface was a blood red, like the purest of love, but tinged with gold flecks, the same hue as those in his father's eyes. James is golden. James' love for his son would help to protect him too, even now.

When the bubble soaked into Harry's skin, he looked straight at Lily mesmerized. She knew that awe-inspired look. It was the same one he always gave her whenever she'd start singing him a lullaby before bed. After the attack at the talent show, Lily had never sang in public ever again, and James had never asked her to sing for him either, knowing how painful the memory was for her. But she still sang for Harry, if only to see the look he was giving her right now. She wondered if that's what her magic felt like to him — like his mum was softly rocking him to sleep whilst singing him the sweetest of songs.

(She never knew it, but James would have an almost identical look on his face whenever she sang, only he'd be on the other side of the nursery door, listening in. The Potter boys both just loved her voice that much.)

As her magic got absorbed, Lily let out a shaky sigh of relief. He'll be safe. She knew Harry would grow up, be the bravest kid in all the land just like both his parents before him, it just wouldn't be with them.

[atrwriting]

chapter eleven: the wolf and the dragon (modern!gangleader!aemond x barowner!you)

as always, warnings: no smut, violence/murder towards a minor, domestic violence, aemond's a dickhead and aegon is hungry and annoying

...chapter eleven:

jace’s band wasn’t the only band that advertised that they wanted a few gigs at your bar.

‘iron clad’ was a five piece band of thirty-something-year-old men that needed to blow some steam off after their 9-5. their age meant they played a fewer older songs, but songs everyone knew and wanted to sing along to. your booths were filled, your bar counter was packed, and there were times where you had a line out the door just because of this band.

and one of the band members was elias strong.

the son of your main distributor and cousin of the late harwin strong. elias strong had dark, curly hair that reached the tips of his ears. his smile was bright and fun, and always put you at ease when the crowd matched his energy. he was the frontman because of his charisma, and it was well deserved. he demanded a crowd not like he was entitled to it, but because he earned every interested and entertained listener.

it was a night like any other… ‘iron clad’ was approaching the end of their set, and you were about to announce last call. the band had done a blues theme for the evening, and there was nothing like anything by robert johnson that didn’t put you in a good, focused mood.

you brought waters up to the band, and handed elias his drink last.

“great show, man,” you began. “crowd’s loving it.”

“thanks.” he smiled. “i want you to sing this next one with me.”

you were taken aback by his request, slapping a playful hand on his shoulder. “i supply the drinks, you keep this crowd entertained.”

he shook his head with a laugh. “i know you’ve got a good voice.”

you shook your head shyly. “you’re sweet, but…”

“come on,” he urged. “what about ‘that’s all right’?”

your eyes widened at his song choice, catching you off guard. “that’s one of my favorite songs.”

he laughed. “i knew you had good taste, darlin’.”

he immediately began strumming on his guitar, and suddenly everyone in the room stopped and turned towards the beginning set. every eye was on the band… and now also you.

“she’s been taking care of y’all all night, and now i need y’all to take care of her,” elias spoke into the mic, restrumming the introduction. “who wants to hear this little lady sing?”

your cheeks went red when the crowd roared. you sent a polite wave and tried to step down from the raised platform, but the people below you wouldn’t budge.

“give the people what they want, darlin’,” elias spoke into the microphone once more.

anger was burning in your veins, but your smile was playful. you stared at elias with a heavy, and weary gaze, but there was only encouragement in his eyes. he looked so perfect and happy you would’ve joked and said his teeth actually twinkled. you grabbed the microphone.

elias started the song over, and you tapped along to the beat. it was an easy tune, meant for voices of all kind. elias started singing, and you joined.

well, that’s all right mama

that’s all right with you

that’s all right mama, just any way you do

well, that’s all right

that’s all right

that’s all right now, mama, any way you do

the music behind you was infectious. it was so difficult to not give into the magic that was blues music and let it course through your veins and play off your tongue. your muscles didn’t feel tight or scared, but free because blues music made everyone feel free from their troubles. it was what you needed, and damn anyone that thought you weren’t going to revel in the sound of something so freeing.

well, mama she done told me

papa done told me too

son, that girl you foolin’ with just ain’t no good for you

well, that’s all right

that’s all right

that’s all right now, mama, any way you do

when the song ended, you shyly placed the microphone back in its stand and thanked elias. you were smiling from ear to ear, and as was he. as the other band mates continued to play their instruments to finish the song, elias reached out to grab you by the belt loop and playfully yank you closer to him. he wrapped one hand around your waist, and planted the biggest, most grateful kiss on the cheek you had ever experienced. you laughed against his warm, strong, and most of all — safe feeling embrace, intoxicated by the passion of it all. you playfully batted his hands away, and the crowd parted for you as you walked off stage.

damn flirt.

“give it up for the best mixologist around!”

the crowd roared, and soon they were into their next song. you walked back behind the bar smiling, and for once felt like life could be bleak, but there were moments like that that would always keep you on your toes.

* * *

after the show, the band left and you let your staff go home early. you needed the quiet of closing alone, especially after your show you had put on. you were still buzzing from the adrenaline, and rode that high like a fucking dragon. you hummed along to more blues tunes as you washed dishes in the back and let most of your worries settle in the back of your mind.

there was always tomorrow to worry.

unless they show up at your back door. literally.

you heard your back door unlatch, and immediately thought it was one of your employees coming back in to retrieve one of their belongings. that was until you realized who it was — or, more like who they were.

lucerys velaryon stumbled into your back door and fell into one of your preparation counters. you were stunned to see him, immediately flipping around in place to ask him what he was doing here after hours and only being a year away from being able to legally drink.

“luke, what—“

that’s when you saw aemond.

he came crashing through the back door and immediately went straight for the younger boy. his large hands grasped the fabric of the younger boy’s coat, and threw him back into the metal counter. the boy’s back was smashed into the metal, causing a groan to release from his lips.

“what would your mother say, if she caught you here, nephew?” aemond seethed, his teeth grit. “huh? her precious boy?”

luke was struggling against his uncle’s hold, trying to break free. strangled gasps left his lips as every muscle in his face scrunched together. that only seemed to fuel the pleasure and anger on aemond’s face.

“i won’t fight you,” luke grit out.

“your eye,” aemond barked. “as payment for mine. i’m sure my mother would like that as a gift.”

you darted for aemond and pushed him off of luke with all of your might. aemond was thrown back in surprise, searching for the person who he didn’t see before.

“get the fuck off of him!” you forced yourself in front of luke, standing between the two men.

the element of surprise may have been on your side, but you knew you had no plan at hand for what could happen next. you had never seen aemond like this. anger leaked from every pore, vein, and fucking nerve ending in his body as he glared at you with bared teeth. you sucked in a sharp breath at the sight, but you stood your ground.

“luke, you need to go,” you snapped. “now!”

the boy immediately ducked behind you and went for the door leading into the bar. aemond lunged for his path, but you stood in the way like a barricade. you tried to throw aemond back with all of your might, but he was much stronger and much for angry than you thought and planned for.

he struggled to get around you, but you grabbed him by the waist and let your body fall dead to the floor. you took aemond with you, as his emotions caused him to be so unbalanced that he couldn’t subdue you. both of your limbs were flailing as you struggled to hold him to the ground — fuck, you were trying to do anything to give luke a head start or to call his mom. anything to keep this kid away from his beast of an uncle.

“stop it, aemond!” you screeched. “not in my fucking bar! he’s a fucking kid!”

you tried to climb on top of him, struggling to pin him down with your knees to keep his body cemented under your weight. your attempt was futile, though — because aemond easily threw you off of him and into the wall behind you.

your head smacked off of the cement like it was nothing. your vision immediately went hazy, and it became so hard to concentrate. pitiful breaths left your lips, and you tried to get up, but you couldn’t. you needed to save luke… you… needed to…

and that’s when you felt a large hand wrap around your throat and push you back against the wall. a strangled gasp left your mouth once more before you forced your eyes open.

“if you ever get in my way again, i will burn you and this bar to the fucking ground,” he growled.

you tried to hold him to you — anything to keep him from going after the kid — but he cast you aside like you were nothing. you fell to the cement floor in a heap and let your eyes drift closed.

* * *

you woke up in your apartment on your couch with an excruciating headache. the lights were dim in your apartment, but even those were too bright. you immediately covered your eyes with your hand, but the sudden movement caused nausea to rise within your stomach. you groaned.

“you’re concussed.”

that voice. that fucking voice.

“die slow,” you mumbled.

“don’t get smart with me,” aemond warned, somewhere in the corner of the room. “you intruded on family business.”

“actually, i think you intruded in on my business.”

“our agreement was that i am free to use your facilities as i please after business hours. do you wish to annul the agreement?”

“the agreement was also contingent on the verbal clause that you respected me,” you seethed. “a concussion definitely voids it, dumbass.”

he was silent, but you heard him swallow thickly. when he didn’t have a response, it was just as worrisome as when you didn’t have a response because he always had a response.

“you hurt a kid, aemond,” you spat. “you targaryens have your own messed up shit that i refuse to get involved in, but when you touch a kid in front of me, i will get in your face.”

“he’s not a kid,” aemond retorted. “he’s barely four years my junior.”

you sighed angrily, dismissing him. “it doesn’t negate the fact that he looks like a kid while you’re a fucking animal. i can’t even fucking see straight.”

“i need your help.”

you laughed, even though it hurt. “die, aemond. die.”

he swallowed once more. “you don’t mean that.”

you were in so much pain and consumed by frustration you almost began to cry. “no, but i do want you to get the fuck out of here.”

“unfortunately, he can’t,” a voice from the kitchen called, rummaging through your fridge. “aemond has to add another clause to the contract.”

“aegon?” you called softly. “come here.”

the blonde sighed and walked over from the kitchen. your own hand was laid across your eyes, and the other reached out to him. you don’t know why you did it, but you were so in desperate need of comfort that you just needed to know someone was there. he was hesitant, but he took his fingers in your own and held you gently.

“aemond needs to stay here for a few days,” aegon stated.

“gods no,” you spat.

“there’s been an accident,” aegon barely whispered.

“what kind?” you asked, rolling into the couch.

“luke… he’s…. he’s dead.”

before you could really swallow the information, you gasped out a meek, “h-how?”

“it wasn’t aemond’s fault,” aegon began. “luke took off in his car, aemond might’ve followed on his bike but… luke’s a bad driver. he tried to run aemond off the road and swerved into the other lane while aemond skidded across the road. luke had a head on collision with another car.”

"that's... that's.... that's horrible." you swallowed. “but i’m missing the point where it’s necessary for him to stay here.”

“it’s not necessarily safer, because daemon will definitely come looking for him at some point…” he trailed off. “but the bar is closed on mondays and tuesdays. daemon thinks he’s basically an employee, so hopefully he doesn’t think he’ll come around. it’ll buy us some time.”

“they know it was aemond?”

“yes… tire marks suggested a motorcycle was near the accident.”

“seven hells,” you sighed, almost crying. "aemond -- how could you be -- so fucking --"

aegon let go of your hand and placed a hesitant hand on your head, combing your hair slightly. you froze at the gesture, but soon succumbed to the warm touch of the brother. it was nice to feel cared for, especially when your body and mind felt so broken.

that fucking kid. that poor, fucking kid.

you could’ve cried for him if your head didn’t feel like it was swimming.

“i’ll be back soon,” he stated softly. “you both need to rest.”

and you fell asleep.

[lilyjaneevans]

You're Lucky || Lily&Remus

@writingpartnersurl

Synopsis: Remus visits Lily for some morning tea. They have a conversation about a recent death eater attack, and their feelings regarding the loss left in its wake.

Remus: Remus appeared outside of Lily’s door with a huff. Things at home had been quite difficult lately - Sirius and his everlasting mood swings was finally starting to get to him. Not that he didn’t have good reasons for it, and of course Remus wasn’t upset with him, he just needed to have a bit of quiet time without risk of being interrupted.

So, here he was, at Lily’s place, letting himself in the door as though he lived there himself. Kicking off his shoes, Remus glanced around to see where she could possibly be. Not in the living room, so he continued deeper into her flat, a hand ruffling his hair slightly as he entered the kitchen. Smiling brightly as he found her with her back turned to him, he simply pulled out a chair and sat down. “Making tea? I’d love one.” He said instead of giving her a proper greeting, making himself right at home by propping his feet up on the chair across from him.

Lily: It had been a very good morning so far, after a very late and productive night of editing half the articles for the next morning’s paper, she’d finally sent them off to the chief and been able to get some sleep. Now she was just finally slipping from bed after a while just laying in the soft light of the morning peeking in through her blinds. She paused a moment only to stretch, arms high over her head and head bent all the way back, before shuffling her way to her kitchen.

Her flat was small, but cozy, and being a corner flat meant that she had windows in every room but the bathroom. The natural light made her feel like she could breathe as easily as if she were outdoors. All the same, she still cracked the window above the sink before setting to making tea.

She was stirring in her sugar when from behind her she heard the sound of a key turning in her front lock. It made her hands pause in their movement for only a moment before returning to her task. There were only a small handful of people in the world who had a copy of her flat key, and they were all people that she would always have time for, always be in the mood to see.

She listened to the quiet sound of their footsteps, and the sound gave her a good idea of just who was visiting. Reaching for another cup, she poured tea for Remus as well and set it to steeping and when he took a seat, she turned to him with cup and saucer already in hand.

“You’re lucky I always boil too much water,” she said with a smile and a wrinkle of her nose, but came forward and set the drink down in front of Remus before retrieving her own. She stayed standing with her back pressed against her counter, smiling and blowing away some of the steam before taking a sip of her tea. “How have you been? I’m having quite a lovely morning, if I do say so myself- And I do.”

Remus: Remus returned her bright smile with one of his own - she’d always had such an infectious mood and he had a hard time feeling anything but calm and happy in her presence. He was quite thankful to have her in his life, she was a breath of fresh air amongst all of the madness. “You say that as though I didn’t already know that you always boil too much water.” He teased with a small snort, pulling his tea closer when she placed his cup down in front of him.

“I’ve been alright,” Remus replied with a half shrug, picking up his tea and taking a small sip before setting it down again. “A bit shaken up since the attack, but…” He trailed off, pulling out his wand and summoning the sugar jar to him. Everybody tried their best, but no one was ever able to make his tea as sweet as he’d like it. “Nothing I haven’t dealt with before, I’m sure I’ll get over it soon enough.” The words were slightly mumbled as he focused on sweetening his tea.

Replacing the jar back to its rightful place, Remus turned his full attention back to Lily again. “And what about you? How’re you dealing with everything?” He questioned her, raising a brow. The two of them were similar in a myriad of ways, and things like these tended to hit them both harder than some of the others. It was part of the reason why he’d found himself here - Sirius seemed to be feeling better than ever, having let out all of his pent up aggression at the attack. And James’ mood always seemed to mirror Sirius’. Remus just needed some peace and quiet away from the two of them, and Lily had always been his quiet place.

Lily: “Knowing i’m going to doesn’t mean you’re not lucky. What if I hadn’t this time?” There was a little smirk on Lily’s face as she sipped her tea, already feeling warmer for it, color in her cheeks. She gave Remus’s feet a swat just as he moved to get them off of her table, and watched him as he answered her question, her expression softening but her smile not slipping away. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

She knew very well that her and Remus had the same feelings when it came to things like this, the violence and destruction was near every day for them now but they never seemed able to desensitize themselves of it. There was a part of Lily that had almost come to cherish the anxiety it brought her to see such suffering happen in the world, she never wanted to turn a blind eye to any of it. She didn’t want to feel nothing. That rush in her chest would always keep her looking, responding, doing everything she could to help. Still it pained her to see it in her friend, now. Remus Lupin certainly deserved to feel some peace and comfort.

“Hmmn… Moony boy…” she mumbled, reaching a hand over to gently ruffle his hair, and she shook her head. “I’ve been better.” She slipped from the counter to the seat across from Remus, bringing herself closer to him. With a small furrow in her brow she admitted, “there were some injured people I helped move to the hospital… They didn’t make it. I’ve been keeping busy to keep my mind off it, but…”

Her teeth worried at her lower lip, dark eyes settled down in her cup of tea, clasped between both hands. Her thumb traced at the lip of it, she could feel the anxiety racing in her chest. “I hate feeling so helpless.”

Remus: Remus took a moment to think over her question. Was he really alright? He had come out of the attack with minimal injuries, a couple of cuts and bruises here and there, but nothing worse than what he was used to. And his friends were alright - all of the Marauders were safe, Lily was still standing, everybody close to him hadn’t been hurt too badly. That was all that really mattered, wasn’t it? “I’m sure.” He finally answered with a short nod and a tight smile, hoping he hadn’t hesitated too long for it to seem disingenuous. Maybe he was a little bit more on edge and anxious than usual, but it wasn’t anything worth mulling over.

Leaning into her touch, Remus offered her a sympathetic glace at her words. He didn’t like it when she was feeling anything less than great and if he could take away all of her pain, he would do it in an instant. As she continued, Remus felt his expression fall to one much more melancholic. “Oh, Lily Pad…” He sighed, his head shaking slightly, unsure what he could do to attempt to comfort her. His hand reached out to her on its own accord, resting lightly on her elbow. “I’m so sorry.”

That was the most difficult part of all of this - doing everything in their power to ensure everyone elses safety only for the outcome to be different than what they had planned. Lily had done everything that she could, and unfortunately ended up with the worst possible case. Remus nodded his head, his hand fidgeting absent-mindedly with his mug. “I do, too.” He admitted softly, his eyes falling from her as he straightened in his seat, picking up his mug.

“You did all you could.“ Remus offered her another small smile, “That’s what matters.” Lily had always been selfless, she was always looking out for everybody around her. Hopefully she’d see that what she did was the best thing she could have in the moment, and hopefully she wouldn’t blame herself for what happened. Lily didn’t deserve to have that sort of guilt eat away at her.

Lily: The sound of that nickname, in that gentle tone of voice that Remus said it, made her feel all at once safe and a little bit silly. But she knew there was nothing silly about the way she felt, not about this. Her brow furrowed and she glanced to the hand now holding her elbow. She slipped one away from her teacup to return the hold on Remus, squeezing his elbow before letting her hand pull back, slipping down the length of his arm to take his hand. Her fingers slipped between his, entwining, and she looked down at her hands. She could only let out a soft breath, nod smally at his apology. It wasn’t his fault, but she knew what he meant by it. She didn’t like to see him upset, either.

“I did,” she agreed with him softly, she had put everything she’d had into trying to keep everyone safe. That night had taken so much out of her, she’d done absolutely everything she could, but still Remus’s words didn’t comfort her against the thoughts she had about it, “but is that really what matters…? Would all of the people lost in this war agree with that? Would their loved ones? My best wasn’t good enough to save them. How long until my best isn’t good enough to save someone I love?”

Her eyes slipped up to take in his expression, and she smiled an apologetic sort of smile, letting her curly head slip down to rest with her cheek pressed against the cool tabletop. “I’m sorry, Remus, this probably isn’t the tone of conversation you were looking for today.” Her smile turned to a bit of a smirk and she grumbled, “I wish I could just, give You Know Who a bop on the nose, knock his head straight like anybody else.”

[sheetsonfire]

Moonlight Flit

Fandom: Chicago Med

Characters: Connor Rhodes x Reader

Genre: pre-romance, smut, friendship

Warnings: swearing, smut

Word Count: 3205

Requested By imagine-all-the-fandoms: My god ❤️❤️ thank you so so much for writing my request. I love it sooo much !

But now you're having me sending in another idea hehe. Another Conner one maybe where he and the reader meet at the Hawaii Bar and end up having a one night stand, but she leaves before he wakes up. Connor regrets that he doesn't even have her number, but later at the Med it turns out she's his new assistant and they are more than happy about it 😊 maybe some smut

-

Making the move from Lakeshore to Med and becoming a Cardiothoracic Assistant was something you had been working on for a few years now. Director of Patient Services, Ms Goodwin, and the head surgeon of the Cardiothoracic Department, Dr Latham, were both renowned figures in Chicago’s medical community, it had been a pleasure to meet them. What you hadn’t yet found out was who would be your surgeon, the one you would follow and assist during your probationary period.

So until tomorrow’s big reveal on your first day at Chicago Med, you sat drinking at the Hawaiian bar that ran alongside the Chicago River. They were supposed to be celebratory drinks with your best friend but, flaky as she was, she had cancelled - leaving you to pat yourself on the back. 

Thankfully, the bar’s owner, Keoni, had honoured you with a specially made Lei to celebrate, seeing to it that your mood remained both lifted and intact - you were enjoying the cheerful atmosphere the bar had always created.

You were tucking into a sweet tangy slice of grilled pineapple when Keoni actually returned unexpectedly to your table, empty-handed. You smiled, “Everything alright, Keoni?” 

“It’s a beautiful night, my dear friends are here, everything is wonderful.” He threw his hands up into the air, gesturing to the bright colourful lights that ran across the overhead wooden beams of his seating area.

You laughed, teasing, “Friends? Plural? I thought I was special.” 

The man grinned and nodded in the direction of a dark-haired man across the way from you, the stranger lifted his glass with a smile and a nod. 

“I told him you got a new job, and he was very pleased for you. He wanted me to ask if you’d like to join him?” 

You raise an eyebrow at the bar owner, “Keoni, really? I don’t know this dude, even if he is extremely good-looking."

Keoni pats your hand with a small chuckle, “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to, but he’s one of the good ones, Y/N. Like you, and he's a doctor at Med too…” 

A doctor at Med? You hum in thought, maybe it would be good to make friends with a fellow doctor this side of the city, and you had trusted Keoni on numerous life choices, he always had a way with words and a way of seeing things.

Given that your best friend had ditched you, you didn’t feel much like turning down your second chance at having company in one night, so you shrugged with a sigh. Shaking your head at Keoni’s infectious and satisfied smile as you followed him to the stranger’s table with your bag, your dish of pineapple and your half-drunken cocktail. 

The closer you get the quicker your heart begins to beat, this guy was even better looking in close-up HD. Intense blue eyes, a thick head of styled hair, and a wonderfully curated beard to top it all off. He was in a pale blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up, unbuttoned at the top enough to see chest hair peeking through. It seemed as though he had come directly from work, though perhaps today wasn’t a hands-on day given his attire. 

He stands to greet you offering a hand to shake, you laugh awkwardly, grasping his hand and shaking firmly. The warmth of his hand sends goosebumps to your neck. You offer a genuinely excited smile, your gratitude for Keon's introduction ticking up by the second.

He speaks first and his voice is smooth and reassuring, you could already tell he had an impeccable bedside manner. “Hi, nice to meet you, I’m Connor. I couldn’t help but notice you were alone, and Keoni said you were celebrating without company, which hardly seemed fair.”

You place your cocktail and the last of your pineapple on his table, sliding onto the stool opposite his, immediately taken in by his general aura. Your gut was usually pretty good with these things, and it was yet to throw up any pauses for a second thought. 

“Well, it’s kind of you to invite me over, Connor, I'm Y/N. My best friend cancelled on me, and I didn’t want the night to go to waste.” You raise your glass to him and he instantly reciprocates, your stomach flip-flops as he winks whilst you say ‘cheers’ together.

He sips at his drink, leaning in to listen to you intently, “I’m very glad that you didn’t let it go to waste, Y/N, and I’m glad I could hopefully be some kind of company for you.”

You rest your chin in your hand, just taking him in for a moment, the alcohol warms pleasantly through your chest and into your stomach. “So far so good, I can tell you that much.” 

[The Next Morning]

You sat on one of the stone benches outside the front of Chicago Med, sipping on a latte as you attempted to find some sort of awakedness before you met with the surgeon you’d soon be shadowing. 

Flashes of the last night’s activities flitted across your mind, the “so far so good” had resulted in something somewhat wild and thoroughly enjoyable. The company you found with your new friend, Connor, had gone from harmless fun to intense lust in an evening, leaving you to sneak out of his apartment at 5am, with only a thank you note as a sign of your departure.

You were sober, but you were a little sore from the muscular workout he had given you, stretching out your back and your neck, feeling the last drops of caffeine roll down your throat. You inhale deeply and exhale the same, if you didn’t know any better you’d say that your body was still tingling from the experience.

There was the distinct hope that you might run into him again, perhaps you could ask around once you got settled, regretting that you hadn’t attached your phone number to the note on his bedside table.

[Flashback to the night before]

You glanced at the time on your phone, the number 00:00 stared back. You wanted to make sure you got home within good time, your start wasn’t horrendously early tomorrow but you also didn’t want to run the risk of oversleeping. 

With a much heavier heart than you thought you’d have, you touch Connor’s arm to get his attention, “Connor I-”

He grimaces with a sympathetic smile, “You gotta head home, huh?” He says disappointedly. 

“Yeah, I don’t wanna be late on my first day. I’m not starting until 11, but I just don’t want to tempt fate by staying out too much longer.” 

He has his hands on your waist, still swaying to the slow music that winds the bar’s patrons down for the night. 

His face turns into a ponderous expression, with a hint of mischief, “How about we head back to my place for a nightcap, and then we’ll make sure you get home, no risk of oversleeping involved.” 

You groan, you can already feel it's a battle lost. You know he’d take you directly home if you asked for it, but the thing was you didn’t want to do that. You very much did want to share just a little bit longer with him, especially in the cosiness of a private space.

You wag a finger at him, pretending to be stern, “You are already trouble, and I am helpless… okay, I would love a nightcap. Are you sure that’s alright?” You bite your lip, giving fate one last chance to change your night for you.

He wants to laugh at your admission, he was feeling pretty much the same, already wanting to do this again soon. “It’s absolutely fine, I was going to leave my car here, we can take a cab.” He smiles, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as you both walk back to the table to get your things.

You’re about to fish out your purse when he stops your hand gently, “‘I’ll settle up the tab for both of us.” 

“What? No, Connor, you don’t have to do that-”

“I know, but I want to and this is your special night, nobody should have to pay for their own celebration drinks.” 

[Presently] 

Standing up you reattach your bag to your shoulder, slotting the empty cup into the recycling bin as you head towards the doors, checking in with security to make sure you had the relevant staff access in place. 

Following signs to the cardiothoracic department led you to the department’s lobby area. You immediately spotted Dr Latham who smiled at your approach. You were, however, too busy feeling the lightning bolt of adrenaline that shot through you as you recognised the back view of who Dr Latham was talking to. 

No way.

He was in black scrubs today, but it most certainly couldn't be anybody else but him. In all the talking you did do last night, neither of you managed to actually reveal your job titles. You had briefly touched on work between ordering more drinks, but then there had been the sudden and wondrous sight of fireworks along the river that had distracted you. The rest of the evening had left no room for occupational discussion.

[Flashback]

Entering his space was exciting, especially with the twinkling city lights illuminating the otherwise dark lounge. Connor turned on a few lamps, keeping the mood cosy and intimate, manoeuvring himself around the couch to come and grasp you once again. His hands travelled to your hips, gently squeezing, 

“Bedroom?” He queries, seeking confirmation that you were sure about this. 

You nod, dropping your bag by the side of the couch, leaning into him to get him moving, “Bedroom.”

A nightcap was no longer on either of your minds.

His blue eyes are intense with a wanting look on his face, smugness blooms and it makes your whole body ache, enjoying the slight edge of control he had over you. He leans in to taste you, lips brushing as a promise of what was to come, teasing his tongue with yours. You moan into his mouth, pushing a hand into his soft hair, nipping kisses turn into hungrier ones that start to take you into the bedroom, glued as you both shuffle in the direction Connor leads you.

Connor pushes you gently into the room, walking you back toward his bed as he sits you down, kneeling in front of you as he undoes the straps of your heels and slips them off. Hands wandering up from your ankles to your thighs, chased by his lips worshipping your skin, reflexively making you part your legs a little. His eyebrows arch inquisitively, humming in amusement. “Impatient, huh?”

“A little.” You remark, exhaling all the built-up anticipation leaning on your arms as you watch him, he stands back to full height, toeing off his own shoes. 

“Scoot.” He commands, and you obey, shuffling back on his bed so he can climb over you, hovering above you as he leans in to kiss you again, this time allowing you to wrap yourself around his hips, heels against his backside. 

[Presently] 

“Dr Y/L/N?” Dr Latham tilts his head in curiosity, watching your slightly blank, stunned, face. You finally catch up to reality and break into a polite smile.

“Dr Latham, lovely to see you again.”

Dr Latham simply offers a polite smile in return, a nod as he gestures to the man next to him, the man now facing you. “Y/N, this is Dr Connor Rhodes, he’ll be the surgeon you shadow for the probationary period.”

Connor shows no outward recognition or surprise that would be visible to Dr Latham, but his lips upturn the faintest of smirks, and his eyes are full of a glint that says so much in the fraction of a second it takes for him to offer his hand to shake. You smile again as you take Connor’s hand, feeling the heat spread from your toes to your stomach. Ah yes, these were the same fingers that had been between your thighs… and everywhere else, the night before. 

You clear your throat, attempting to keep your confidence the same way Connor had. 

“Nice to meet you, Dr Rhodes, I look forward to working with you.” 

“As do I, Dr Y/L/N. I’m sure we’ll make a great team.” 

[Flashback] 

Skin on skin, rocking your hips up into his semi-hardness, relishing the sensation with desperate moans as he starts grinding and rolling into you with need. 

Heart thundering loudly in your ears as you hold onto this beautiful stranger, surrounded by his heat, his scent, his voice speaking softly and lowly, encouraging you to take what you wanted.

He reaches down between your thighs to slip curious fingers into your panties, feeling with delight how turned on you were for him. "You're so fucking hot, Y/N," Connor remarks, slipping a finger between your folds to massage every which way, keeping the pressure as you reach for his cock through his boxers, palming him roughly.

It only spurs him on to roughly rid you of your panties, he brushes his nose against your neck, nuzzling as he inhales your scent, fingers now spread you apart as he lets two fingers coax inside your cunt, instantly pushing against your clit with his palm.

"More." You murmur, gasping with every slow teasing push and thrust of fingers that curl inside you, getting yourself off on his hand as you tug him free of his underwear. Appreciating the girth and adequate length of his cock, you couldn’t wait to feel him fill you right up.

His fingers hooking inside you, thrusting hard and then deliberately slow, working you up to begging for more,

"Yes, that’s it, princess, I love the way you squeeze around me, wanna squeeze around my cock?"

"Yes, Connor, yes. Please, more." Your legs fall further apart for him, he disappointingly removes his fingers, holding himself up and leaning across to the bedside table, fumbling around for lube and a condom. Your lips are swollen, parted in sheer lust, panting softly as pleasure still hums in your veins, waiting patiently for Connor to return his attention to you. You admire the sight of him, the way his stomach tenses as he leans, the muss of his hair where you’ve been running your hands through it, the marks you’ve left with your teeth and lips.

His fingers grasp around the small bottle, and a small packet. He hands you the packet as he flicks the cap open, making eye contact with you again. You squirm under his gaze, nodding in encouragement. He winks, running a hand over your stomach and up to your chest, fingers caressing and teasing, watching in satisfaction as your nipples harden. You reach out again, tugging him closer as you stroke his cock for him, slowly rolling the condom on. He holds the tube and squeezes, drizzling lube all over your cunt and his now covered length. 

Connor leans in, pressing a slow, admiring, kiss to your lips, 

“Ready?” He asks, kissing along your jaw. You hum, letting out a breathless, “Yes, fuck me.” Hearing the rumble of his laughter and feeling it against your body makes you shiver, his entire existence was enrapturing.

You gasp as he begins to push into you, slow sweet pressure that fills you inch by inch, giving you as much time as you need. You clutch his shoulders, hips arching as you take more of him in - the sensation of being filled by this handsome, charming, stranger was exhilarating.  

“Shit, yes. Connor…” You’re muttering his name, lost to his rhythm, running your hands all over him, clinging on as he fucks you into the mattress. He nips at your neck, adoring the whines and mewls of pleasure he pulls from you, hitting the spot you wanted over and over. 

You kept one hand on Connor’s shoulder, the other low on his back, almost pushing his ass to keep him close inside you. You press your knees to his side, “Let me ride.” you ask with flushed cheeks, wanting to ride him into release.

Your orgasm comes to a simmer, loving how quickly Connor obeys the request, laying atop him as he meets your bouncing rhythm, supporting yourself on his chest as he encourages you by the hips, letting one of his beautiful hands wander to find your clit, teasing firmly with each thrust. You feel the building energy pulsing through your cunt and into your clit, travelling up your spine. 

It was a symphony of your and his breaths, moans and praises that got more erratic, it’s the pinching roll of your clit between his fingers that had your thighs shake. Hungered kisses that swallow your borderline screams of pleasure, pulsing wildly around his cock, waiting to watch his handsome face when he cums.

“Yes, yes… fuck yes…” His lips fall open in a silent moan, you grasp his jaw and bring him in for another kiss, tasting the alcohol on his lips over and over. Stunned, he sees stars, rutting with each release. He’s gripping onto your waist, trailing back up to stroke across your breasts, watching with wide, blown, eyes.

You’re both panting, hair dishevelled, giving each other a moment until you climb off and come to rest by his side, using his chest as a pillow.

[Presently] 

Zoning back into the general chit-chat being exchanged, you come back to hear Dr Latham announcing his departure. “I have a few things to attend to, but I will come back later to see how everything is going.” You and Connor bid him farewell, and then you were alone.

You feel nervous now, but Connor remains calm and cool. “Shall we?” He prompts with a smile, gesturing towards the surgeon’s locker room, where you could put away your things and change into scrubs. 

“Absolutely.” You nod, enthusiasm still very much within you, after all this was still the dream job you wanted, and now it had only got that much more intriguing. You swallow hard, unsure of what to say or whether this had somehow messed up your chances at Med.

Connor must hear your loud thinking, clearing his throat as he speaks, “Just so we’re clear…I really enjoyed last night, and I was sad to find no phone number for you this morning. What a surprise to find out my new partner was someone I get along so well with… Nothing has to come of this, but I just want you to know, I’d really like it if it did…” 

You turn to him slightly, face covered in surprise as you hear his words. A pleasant fizz tingles in your stomach.

“I think I’d be pretty damn happy to give you my phone number…. And I enjoyed last night too. A lot.” 

Connor lets out a small laugh, one of relief and happiness you realise. "That's settled then."

It would take you the entire day to have a conversation with Connor without thinking of the night previous, but it would be difficult to not seek out a repeat as soon as possible.

One-night stands were overrated.

-

Fin.

[thesmokingguns]

Off To the Races

Pairing: Nikki Sixx!Douglas Booth

Request: Off To The Races by Lana Del Rey

Summary: You are my one true love. She is there for him at all of his worst moments. Coaxing him through his high, making him smile and laugh. She’s at parties dancing with her red smile calling for him. She’s swimming in the pool when he’s drunk and stoned. She’s there through it all. No ones loved Nikki like her. All consuming. His only thought. She is his entire world. And his works is crumbling.

Warning: Heavy themes of drug use, drug induced hallucinations, alcohol abuse, suicidal thoughts.

Word Count: 2270

Taglist: @littlemisscare-all​​​​​ @ayablackwood​​​​​ @agroupiewhore@thenobodies-inc​​​​​ @dannasixxworld​​​​ @val-sixx​​​​@nikkisqueenofsleaze​​​​ @rocknrollsoul76​ @aggressive-slytherin​

My old man is a bad man, but

I can't deny the way he holds my hand

And he grabs me, he has me by my heart

He doesn't mind I have a Las Vegas past

He doesn't mind I have a L.A. crass way about me

He loves me, with every beat of his cocaine heart

My eyes are heavy, fingers twisting the belt around my arm to loosen the pressure. The needle drops to the floor, the carpet holding any sound in. Blinking, looking around the cramped closet I see my journal, my revolver, and more smack for after this dosage.

What a life.

My head rolls back smacking the wood paneling with a dull thud that vibrates through me. My hands shaking, waves of fingers in front of me. There’s a bit of blood coming from the injection pin prick in my arm and I’m find myself stumbling to my feet, sweeping the gun off the floor and tucking it in the waistband of my jeans as I head to the bathroom.

It’s washing over me, the feeling I’m always chasing. The fleeting moment of happiness is like a warm blanket wrapping itself around me.

The giggle stops me in my tracks, eyes searching the hallway searching for her. I thought she had left after our last fight. She called me a quitter and was mad I was giving up my partying ways. She loved to have a good time and she thought I was giving up on her.

Guess she was wrong.

The flash of brown hair catches my attention and I’m stumbling, laughing as I chase her through the house. Her laughter was infectious and made me forget about the blood dripping down my forearm.

In the kitchen she turns, giving me that megawatt smile that felt like my heart was feeling something other than the melancholy that usually filled it. She stops and lets me catch her, letting me wrap my arms around her holding her close to me. Smelling the exotic sweetness of her hair as she engulfs me with her golden skin, bangles tinkling down her arms like a musical number.

Safe and warm, happiness and euphoria of her presence with me here. The place that was my Mecca of solitude. Pulling back, confused for a second I try to think about how she got here.

“How did you get in?” As if she senses the confusion in my voice she kisses me, giving me no doubt she is here with me. Warm and solitude against my skin, fire in my veins.

“You let me in.” She purred, letting her mouth kiss along my jawline. Soft hot breath tickling me as she pressed against me, bumping the gun as she rolled her body against mine. “It looks like you’re locked and loaded, ready to go.” Her hands in my hair as she’s touching parts of me I forgot existed.

God I missed this.

Swimmin' pool glimmerin', darling

White bikini off with my red nail polish

Watch me in the swimmin' pool, bright blue ripples

You sittin', sippin' on your Black Cristal, oh yeah

Light of my life, fire of my loins

Be a good baby, do what I want

Light of my life, fire of my loin

I wake up with a gasp.

What time is it? What day is it? Where am I?

Looking around, frantic panic as I realize I’m asleep in the lawn chair by the pool. An empty bottle of Jack Daniels is smashed beside me, glass decorating the concrete in sharp glares of warning.

The sound of a splash throws me off and there she is. Her brown hair wet as she rests her elbows outside the pool, placing her head in her hands with that gleaming smile.

“Well hello sleepyhead. Did you have good dreams?” I don’t know if she’s asking out of kindness or mocking me. I’m drenched in sweat, possibly from falling asleep in the LA afternoon but most likely from the night terrors that always haunt me.

I dreamt I was running. From who or from what was the issue. Everything in my brain was foggy. My eyes snapped up at the setting sun. Has it been a full day already? Was it longer?

The phone rang from inside the house and I knew it must be someone from the band calling or my drug dealer. One of those felt more important than the other and I wasn’t ready to admit which one that was.

I got up, swearing as a piece of glass cut open my door, glaring as she giggle and dipped under the water. A trail of blood followed me into the house as I picked up the phone.

“Hello.” My voice felt gruff and it hurt to talk, like I hadn’t used it in a while. My head was killing me and I felt ready to throw up.

What the fuck had I been doing?

“Jesus Nikki, we’ve been trying to reach you for a week.” A week? I had lost hours, maybe a day here and there but a whole week. Jesus Christ. “Are you okay man? Why don’t you come out tonight with us?” Tommy was begging me and I sighed.

I was embarrassed. I didn’t want everyone to see me when I had been on a bender. I hadn’t seen what I looked like yet but I was sure that it was like hell.

“I don’t know, T-Bone. I think I have the flu or something. I just don’t feel great.” It wasn’t exactly a lie.

Something fluttered beside me and there she was. A white dress on her thin frame. How had she dried off and changed so quickly? Was I loosing more time? Eyes shining as she held out a silver platter of white powder. She loved to party and must have known that my band would want to see me out. At least if I was doing coke with them they didn’t have to worry about finding me dead.

“Where are you going to be?” I relented, watching her twirl. The energy coming off her was exhilarating and I wanted to join her in the ever present state of delight.

My nose was down against the lines, snorting messily, my brain burning, eyes widening as I sniffed a few times to get the whole lot out of my nose. Wiping and then turning to her.

“Let’s get you cleaned up and ready to go out on the town.” She was leading me to the bathroom. My blood rushing everywhere as I was alive and awake and fucking ready to party.

I need you to come here and save me

I'm your little scarlet, starlet, singin' in the garden

Kiss me on my open mouth

Ready for you

Why had I agreed to go to a club?

In the booth we had a mess of drugs, pills and coke scattered on the table like appetizers. Bottles of booze and half empty beer bottles added to the maze of debauchery.

How long have I been here?

I couldn’t remember driving or even getting to the club. All I could remember was hands all over me in the shower, washing the filth off myself. The gentle voice reminded me to wear long sleeves to hide my track marks.

My eyes searched for her. In the sea of women I was sure she would stand out. But all the flashing lights and the noise was confusing me.

The room was spinning, the conversation around me overwhelming me and I could feel Tommy’s hand on my back. My head rolled back, the club's lightning needed to be updated.

A hand was smacking my face and I saw Tommy, wide eyed, looking at me before I turned to the table, throwing up the only thing I had in my body. Brown liquid shot out, mixed with the acid in the stomach. It didn’t stop for what felt like a full minute.

When I finished, puke leaking down in steady droplets to the floor I grabbed a beer tang I had missed and chugged the foamy substance down. I tried not to make eye contact with the people giving us disgusting sneers.

“Oh baby, why don’t you let me take you home? Let me take care of you.” Her hands wrapped around me and I turned, nodding. Confused looks from everyone as I climbed out, reaching for her to take me back into the safety of her arms.

Light of his life, fire of his loins

Keep me forever, tell me you own me

Light of your life, fire of your loins

Her fingers were in my hair as I laid on her lap. The fire from my lighter hitting my pipe as I inhaled and exhaled the sweet delight.

Freebasing in my closet. But at least I wasn’t alone. I had her with me and that changed my usual mood of wanting to slit my wrists or press the gun against my head and pulling the trigger. Painting the inside of my closet with bits of skull fragments and blood-

“Come back to me.” Her voice was lulling me out of the dark place, pressing against my temples and using the magic of her voice to help me. She was the only one that was always there for me. Always making me feel better and dragging me from the pain of my life. Holding me in her arms, compassion and understanding.

She never judged me.

“Have we been here long?” She knew I liked to keep my responsibilities. I wanted to keep my appearance as the rockstar. I couldn’t let anyone know how bad that it had gotten. How I couldn’t stop. How doing drugs was the best part of my life. My one true love.

Except her. She was the one thing I loved more than drugs.

“You have band practice in a few hours.” She reminded me. Her voice was steady and calm, fingers running through my hair and keeping me calm as I took another hit.

I just needed a little more time before I could see anyone. Just a little more time in the closet with her holding me before going out into the world.

“Nikki, don’t let them tell you to give me up. I love you Nikki. Aren’t I the only one who has always been there for you? No one else cares for you like I do. They see you as a rockstar or as a junkie. But I see you. I see you.” Her words promised and I nodded my head, agreeing with her words. She was still so calm, even with the edge to her voice. The words stuck with me.

She saw me and I saw her too.

I'm sorry that I'm misbehaving

I'm your little harlot, starlet, Queen of Coney Island

Raisin' hell all over town

Sorry 'bout it

I didn’t want to go to band practice. I didn’t want them to see my shaking hands or ask my stupid fucking questions that didn’t matter.

At least she had agreed to go with me. Her brown hair wrapped in one of those silky driving scarfs like the 1960s, big sunglasses to hide the hangover in her eyes that she was surely feeling after we had partied. Her hand was on his lap, keeping him steady as he drove to the practice space.

Walking inside, I hide my eyes behind big sunglasses, I could feel the sweat glistening like a second skin on my body. Anxiety crippling me as I licked my lips wanting to get back to my house.

My eyes followed her, watching her move around the instruments shooting me a smile as she ran her hands down my bass. I couldn’t help but smile back at her.

“Yo, Nikki, are you okay?” Tommy’s voice made me turn away from her nodding as I sat down hard on the couch. I had never brought a girl to practice before so I was sure they were surprised to see her. To see me so happy with someone.

“Come here.” I held my arms open, watching her smile as she bounced towards me twisting around the guys as they watched me. The brunette plopped down on my lap and I held her close looking out at them.

“What are you playing at?” Vince asked, the confusion was written across his face and I felt angry. Vince had been parading chicks through band practice for years. And now he was acting like this? Fucking asshole.

“Cmon, show her some respect, dicks.” She was shifting in my arms holding onto me and purring sweet words in my ears, my eyes closing and only coming awake when Vince kicked my shin.

“Show who respect?” My eyes went up to look at her but she was glaring at them. Her eyes were on fire as if she was protecting me from the band.

“Nikki, we should go. Let’s go home and I’ll take care of you. You don’t need this. I don’t need this. This was a bad idea, Nikki. A very bad idea.” She was getting up tugging at me to leave.

“My girl.” I was standing gesturing at her beside me, watching the way her dark eyes were slits now. Anger so clear as she tried to wrap herself around me and get me away from them.

They sat there, no one saying a word as they looked at each other and than a me. I turned to look at her, panic was there as she stepped forward touching my face, my eyes closing at the sweet caresses from her fingers. My skin feeling alive like bristling fire under her touch

“It’s me and you Nikki. Don’t forget how I love you. I love you always. No judgement. No-“

“Nikki, no ones there.” Tommy’s voice came out soft and I turned to look from her to him, feeling the slender hand slip out of mine. I went to tell her to wait but she was gone.

Whirling around I saw it was just the band in the space, no mystery brunette anywhere in sight. I collapsed on the couch gripping my hair as my teeth gnashed together.

This was the furthest it had come. The lowest point of my drug addiction. In my loneliness I had created a woman out of heroin. Someone to make me feel less alone when I shot up.

I created love through a needle and that was when I knew I needed to stop if I ever wanted to love anything again.

I'm not afraid to say that I'd die without him

Who else is gonna put up with me this way?

I need you, I breathe you, I'll never leave you!

[moonbeamwritings]

hello!! absolutely quaking in excitement to see all the amazing stuff you’re gonna make. may i request jotaro with prompt 34?

I’ve always had a headcanon that holly taught him how to sew by hand when he was younger so that he could alter his uniform. Seeing him dig out those rusty skills to repair something important his s/o ripped right before needing to leave for an event would be really cool :D thanks!

oh please that's such a sweet idea! thank you for sharing and i hope you enjoy !! ❤️

jotaro kujo + mending an item of their clothing that was ripped

Jotaro had been an asshole to his mother as a teenager, always scowling and snapping at her - downright avoiding her at times - but in those rare moments when the bitterness in his heart subsided and he wanted to spend time with her, she would smile and offer to teach him little skills in the realm of domesticity.

She taught him to cook and to sew with the patience of a saint, offering kind words of encouragement anytime she caught the telltale signs of frustration on his face. Her skills in the kitchen and with a sewing needle far exceeded his, hands moving with practiced precision where his were clumsy, but she never made him feel bad for his inexperience. She was just happy to spend time with him.

“This way,” she told him before his first lesson, holding up the freshly threaded needle, “you can make alterations to your uniform. How does that sound?”

Now, years later, Jotaro breaks out his old skills, holding a phone between his ear and shoulder as his mom gives him the guidance he needs.

You were on your way out for a night with friends when you’d split the seam on the leg of your favorite pants, and the defeated look on your face that followed caused Jotaro to frown. You’d looked so confident just seconds ago, he couldn’t let you start the night off with a sour mood, feeling less than your best. So, like any good boyfriend would, he dialed his mom’s number and pulled out the sewing kit she’d gifted him all those years ago.

When he feels he gets the gist, and armed with his sewing needle, Jotaro tells her he’ll call her later and sets to work.

It takes him a little while, and the seam is a little wonkier than he would like it to be, but the hole is fixed and that beautiful, precious smile returns to your face in earnest.

You gingerly climb back into the garment before you press a long, wet kiss to Jotaro’s cheek, thanking him what feels like a million times.

He wasn’t an expert tailor by any stretch of the imagination, but as he watches you leave, your confidence damn near infectious, Jotaro was thankful for those quiet afternoons with his mom.

event: closed, thanks for sending in!! ❤️

[feelin-woozy]

Title: Kinktober Day 28 (Human Furniture / Scat / Deepthroating & Facesitting)

Word Count: 735

Pairing: Baby Firefly / Reader

Warnings: Unhealthy relationships

There is something dangerous about the woman before you. From the way Baby smiles, her mouth stretched to reveal two rows of teeth that feel far more menacing than they should. As if an uncanny amount was sticking out from her gums, though there was nothing to suggest that was the case, it was nothing more than a trick of the eye. To the way, her laughter would cut through the air in sharp little shrill notes. It was as infectious as it was blood-chilling.

Most things were infectious about Baby, the good and the bad. Her foul moods where the woman would stomp around making the old wooden floorboards creak always made a joint irritation bloom within you. And when she was happy, smiling from ear to ear with that Cheshire grin, it warmed your heart and made you want to do everything within your power to keep that radiate look plastered over her features.

It had its caveats, the virulent nature of Baby, that is. It was easy for her to sway you, to bat those pretty little lashes at you and allow her lower lip to jut out. It had you falling to your knees, ready to follow her every whim listening to her prattle on about how much fun you two would have. That fun usually ended in skin and clothing being soaked in crimson. Not that you could complain though, well you could, but the sex after activities like that made those complaints wither away and die on the tip of your tongue.

It was a two-way street, although Baby was less likely to affirm that. The woman was just stubborn that way, a hothead who held her own. Admitting to the co-dependency that festered between the two of you like a sticky ichor was a step she wasn’t ready to take yet. So perhaps it was better to leave the sleeping dogs rather than tempt the unhealthy habits the two of you developed.

Baby was as weak to you as you were to her. Your honeyed words dripped over her and melted her resolve steadily. Though it was rare for her to deny you such a request, frankly, you aren’t sure she had ever turned your tongue laving through her folds, but the work you did that left her thighs quivering and breathy little notes passing from soft lips made her much more willing to go along with your more ill-adjusted schemes.

“Fuckin’ christ babe.” Baby’s words quiver much like her thighs that are pressed to your ears. You can’t help but smile, dragging your tongue slowly along her folds before your lips wrap around her clit, sucking gently. An undignified squeal is ripped from her throat at that; beyond that, you can hear the sounds of nails scratching against the wooden headboard as she rocked back onto your tongue, spreading her juices along the lower half of your face.

You can’t take your eyes off her, even if you wanted to; it was as if you were transfixed. Baby looked like an angel here perched above you, your own personal Seraph meant for your eyes and your eyes only. Her pale skin was flushed shades of pink, frizzy blonde hair bouncing with each rock of her hips and every involuntary shudder.

Nails dig into the soft flesh of her thighs, the abrasive prickling of growning hair cutting into the pads of your fingers. It did little to stop the erratic movements of her hips but instead brought her closer so that you could plunge your tongue deep within her cunt. The sharp, sweet taste of her slick coats your tongue and you can’t help but moan yourself.

“Don’t stop.” Her eyes dart down to meet yours, and you can’t help the swell of pride that balloons within your chest as you take note of her frenzied expression, brows knitting together till soft lines form along her brow. “Don’t you dare stop,” Her hand came to run through your locks, bitten down nails raking over your scalp before it curled into a fist. You hiss as a prickling began to spread along your scalp. “Fuckin’ kill you right now if you stop.”

You wouldn’t have dreamed of it, even if the woman begged and pleaded till tears streaked her cheeks from overstimulation. It would be payback for all the times she had done it to you in the past.

[MASTERLIST]

[amethystpath-writes]

A Lesson Learned

(NOT A PROMPT)

Hello :) Could you write a piece where the extremely flirtatious villain notices that the hero isn’t taking care of themselves and tries to get them to and promises not to do anything (capture them, etc), but (surprise!) then they do? Haha sorry if it’s a bit specific, adore your writing!

******

“Why, doll,” Villain cooed from behind the bench which Hero sat upon. The bench was old, wood in the process of rotting. Speaking of rot- Villain rounded the park bench, coming face to face with that once-handsome, now-perished face. “Don’t you just look like you sprang from Hell? Yeesh.”

Hero shrugged, not even caring that Villain was here to taunt him yet again- to pick at him with compliments. Usually, anyways. Now, she was insulting him. Did he really look that out of it? Hero felt like it, so it shouldn’t have been so surprising to him. “Don’t feel great- get out of here.”

“And do what? I’d miss the grumble in your voice too much. Come now, my dear, tell me what has that pretty hair of yours so tangled.” Villain’s hand grazed the locks atop Hero’s head, fingers skimming his scalp. She hummed her delight. “How pretty,” Villain whispered into Hero’s ear. “Even if it is greasy.”

“Look, I’m really not in the mood for this.”

Good God, what is that stench? Villain could gag- not could; Villain did gag on the smell. “When was the last time you showered, sugar?” Hero certainly didn’t smell like sugar, but it was in Villain’s nature to shoot a flirt at him anyways.

“Don’t know. Would you get your hand out of my hair?”

“You don’t know?” Villain sighed, dropping her hand and rounding the bench until she came to the front, facing Hero and his abnormally large eye sacks. “Oh, darling…” you have jellyfish beneath your eyes. “You should take better care of yourself. I could help you, you know?”

Hero’s eyes grew as wide as they could with eyelids made of lead. “Help me do what? Bathe?”

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t mind helping you do that- think of how close we would be, my sweet doll.” She sat beside the broken-beyond-repair hero, dragging a fingertip along his dirtied pants. Villain sighed, slightly bored of this game of chess. Her flirtations were slipping away like a wet bar of soap. What an ironic comparison.

Villain said, “What I meant is this; I’ll give your handsomeness a break- or your ugliness, rather. You need to regain your looks, hence the break.”

Ignoring the insult, Hero said, dead-panned, “And I’m supposed to believe you.” A soft tut.

“Have I given you any reason not to? On this pretty night?”

“Beyond the not-so-subtle insults,” Hero thought aloud, and finished with, “I guess not.”

With a scoff, Villain said, “I wouldn’t call those insults. I could have said much worse- and anyways, you know I’m a tease. I feel even more concerned that you’ve forgotten such a vital detail about me. More reason to leave you alone. Right, my love?”

“I still don’t know if I believe you.”

“Why would it matter what I did or didn’t do when you don’t even care to look after yourself?”

She makes a good point. Still… “What would you do then?” Hero didn’t particularly care to have this conversation right now, but- well, he was a hero. Even if he were too exhausted to take care of himself, it was still his responsibility to protect the people. Just because Villain was saying she’d leave Hero alone didn’t mean she’d leave the citizens alone.

“What would I do? Sulk, mostly. I’d miss your pretty little face while I sat alone on my couch.”

“Right. Because I always sit on a couch with you.”

“There’s a taste of that precious fire. You’re beautiful when you’re sarcastic- and healthy.”

Hero sighed. It didn’t matter what he said, did it? He could tell Villain she looked like a horse’s rear-end mixed with a jackal’s paw and she’d continue sticking around. “You said you’d give me a break.” Of course, Hero still didn’t believe Villain’s words. It was her one and only nature to torment him with pointless compliments- and harmful insults apparently.

As if I didn’t already know I look like crap. I’m tired; that’s all. No motivation to do anything but sit on the park bench. He didn’t even feel like getting up to stretch his legs, despite knowing it needed to be done. Hero would rather deal with the aches of standing than to be forced into using so much energy while sitting. How draining it was- standing up from his position now. That’s why he stayed put, even with Villain’s hand circling in his hair once again.

This time, the hand in Hero’s hair was actually soothing. The tender scrape of Villain’s nails against his scalp. The gentle pull through the hair as her fingers caught on tangles, though the larger knots were a tad painful. Hero hummed his delight at the two former feelings, finding himself leaning into the arm which offered such relief.

On a regular day, one not so adorned with absent motivation and sourness, Hero would have slapped Villain’s hand away- would have told her to go find a dog in the park to pet. Naturally, he would have regretted saying it, thinking that Villain might claw its eyes out instead of petting it. Okay, maybe she wouldn’t do something that serious, but she might have stepped on a puppy’s tail, making it screech- if only to horrify the owner.

“Isn’t this a nice break, sugar?” Villain asked, but, of course, there was more to it than this scalp massage. When Hero fell asleep, with his head on Villain’s shoulder, she would give herself a break- not him.

******

Eyes still closed from having just woken up, Hero pulled his shoulder back against the hard- hard? I thought I was in- His eyes cracked open.

White ceiling. Or, mostly white, at least. There was some water damage that Hero could see even through his blurry and freshly woken eyes. The yellow and orange stains did not belong on his ceiling.

He shifted slightly, body still stiff, but he wasn’t willing to stretch yet- just in case there was…a certain someone…paying attention. Damn Villain, Hero thought, because who else’s home could he be in if it weren’t his own?

It was with this thought in mind that Hero sat up. No use in lounging around. Better off to find a way out before Villain-

“Nice to see those starlit eyes of yours.”

Great. Turning his head, he saw Villain casually sprawled across a couch.

Well, one thing was for certain; Hero had the motivation to get up and run again. At least he could thank Villain for something, even if it were simply the desire to escape.

Sitting up, slowly and stiffly, Hero said, “A break. You were supposed to give me a break. It’s what you said, what you told me you’d do. You would give me a break to take care of myself and you would sulk.”

He could almost imagine Villain’s voice answering with an easy lull, ‘I didn’t say what the break would entail, love.’ Love. Darling. Doll. My dear. Disgusting, disgusting, disgusting.

“I gave you a break. Two of them, if we’re being technical. The massage and the shelter. Actually,” Villain smiled at him from her couch cushion, eyes closing just slightly as her cheeks gathered higher and higher. “I might call it liberation- instead of a break. Infinite freedom versus periods of mass depression and showerless nights.”

Hero felt his jaw tick. “What are you talking about?” he asked, voice low- just the way Villain liked.

He wasn’t helping his case any, now, was he? Being all cutesy. It only allowed Villain to enjoy this whole situation more.

“You wake up in your stalker’s home and don’t even think to check your body for modifications? What a pity you are sometimes,” Villain giggled. She meant it as a compliment; it was her way of calling the hero cute and favourable.

Stalker. Well, Villain might as well have been considered as such. She showed up just about everywhere Hero was, only to hold hostages for no other reason than to have control over someone, to hear the fear in their high whines- and to see the fear glistening low in their eyes. Villain was wicked, and she was wicked always in Hero’s presence. Stalker- maybe that’s what the news would start calling her if they, or Hero, ever managed to stop Villain.

Villain grew impatient with Hero’s procrastination of observation. “Explore yourself, won’t you?”

And Hero did now. He looked down his arms, torso, legs, anything that was in his perspective, but there was nothing out of the ordinary, except- “Do not tell me you actually washed me.” His arms were speck and dead-skin cleaned.

“A wet rag against your arms and legs, nothing else.”

Hero simply took her word for it, trying not to imagine how he’d feel if she were lying. How horrendous.

Then what is it? Nothing- absolutely nothing- was irregular, so why was Villain going on about…Hero’s fingers skimmed something along his neck- one of the few things he couldn’t see with his own eyes.

No…no. Not just along his neck. There was something inside of Hero’s neck. “What did you do to me?” His voice came out as a horrifyingly quiet whisper, one that squeaked in the back of his throat.

“You wouldn’t take care of yourself, Hero. I had to step in.”

“I don’t- no. No. Whatever you’re doing, you- you need to- I need to go home. I need you to stay away from me and I need- I need-” Oh no. Was he hyperventilating? He couldn’t- God, he couldn’t breathe. Hero was panicking, scratching at his neck, at the irregular shaped lumps. Get out. Get. Out. Getout. Getout. Getoutgetoutgetoutgetout.

A gasp sounded in the room as Hero’s head hit the ground, trying to dodge the zap that occurred at the front of his throat, right where he was scratching so madly.

“Well, I guess that’s a lesson learned rather quickly. Darling, you didn’t even know what those were, and yet you were trying to rip them out. It might have killed you.”

“Uhah.”

Villain quirked her head to the side. “Didn’t get that, sorry. Must have fried your vocal cords- better that than you build up a bunch of infectious bacteria.” Truth be told, the zap wasn’t so bad that it would permanently damage Hero- only give him little tics and make him fret.

“You’ll be so very happy that I took that rag over your skin- otherwise you’d have woken up to your own stench while I was injecting the little stun rods. That would have been difficult,” Villain laughed, legs extending until they laid on the arm of the couch.

“Now,” Villain piped, “there is an outfit laid out in the bathroom- down this hall here”- she pointed- “and second door to the right. Get a shower, bath, whatever you want, and get dressed. I have plans and I’m not leaving you here alone.”

Swerving her legs over the arm- despite having just put them there- Villain planted her feet on the ground and placed her elbows near her knees, leaning forward, all amount of humour aside. “I’m the only one who gets to torment you, you hear me? Not even you have my permission to do harm to yourself or otherwise slack in personal healthcare. If you are in any kind of bad condition, it will be because I allowed it. M’kay?”

She stood, walked several paces to where Hero still sat on the floor and patted his cheek. “I’m making myself food before we leave and while you take a shower. Don’t disappoint me by trying to escape, my dove. You’re in my cage now.” Villain gave Hero a tap on the head as she pulled a remote control out of her pocket with her other hand. For extra measure, she held one of the buttons for three seconds, sending Hero onto his back once again, writhing on the floor- though avoiding scratching his neck.

A lesson learned indeed.

“Believe it or not, I do intend to be kind to you. I just wanted to show you what happens if you decide you’re not worth taking care of again.”

One last click of the button and she was gone, leaving a panting hero behind in the dust.

[voiceless-terror]

In which Martin and Gerry help Jon acquire a cat, among other things. 

“Martin, look!”

A phone is shoved in his face; on the screen is a tiny black kitten sprawled on a carpet with the headline “Free to a Good Home!!” Martin knows where this is going.

“Finally time to bite the bullet, eh?”

“We could surprise him!” Gerry’s voice is animated as he waves his phone in the air. Martin loves when he gets like this, unguarded and sweet. “You know how stressed he’s been. Honestly, I’m shocked we haven’t gotten one already.”

“Well, he’s certainly been hinting at it.” Martin gestures broadly at the walls of the bookstore, decorated with various cozy knick knacks and art they’ve picked up at charity shops. There’s no less than three oddly majestic cat paintings along with a shelf of tiny porcelain felines, not to mention the gaudy clock that has cat breeds instead of numbers. Jon has...particular taste. “Not very subtle, is he?”

“Should I message them, then?” Gerry squints at the screen. “We met them at trivia a few months ago - Mara, the one with the-”

“Green hair, yeah.” Martin remembers the night rather fondly. Gerry usually spent most trivia nights scowling in the corner and making snarky commentary with Jon, but on that particular occasion he had a few drinks and was considerably more relaxed. He managed to charm half of the bar with his stories and wit while Jon stared on, adoration clear on his face.  “But you know Jon would kill us if we didn’t let him have a say. You know how he gets, he needs to prepare-”

“-buy ninety toys-”

“-think up a ridiculous name.” They both laugh at that- Jon’s got a penchant for renaming their friend’s pets when he doesn’t think their moniker “suits them.” He’s gotten into more than one fight about it. “Text him so he doesn’t stay late, though. I’m not staying up until midnight again.”

“On it.”

_______

They hear Jon before they see him. 

The door creaks open, alerting them to his presence as Jon lets out his usual long-suffering sigh (Gerry fondly calls this mood ‘The Bouchard Blues.’) His clothes are wrinkled and his eyes are barely open; from the slight indent on his face, Martin reckons he fell asleep at his desk again. Gerry meets him at the door, grabbing his bag and giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Rough day, love?”

Another sigh, this one a bit more huffy. “Elias came in at half past four with a box of ninety random documents and wanted them all organized by tomorrow. Impossible, of course, unless I stay the night-”

“But you came home!” Gerry says it with a sort of wonder in his voice; Jon very rarely stands up to his boss, no matter how ridiculous the ask. 

“W-Well, you said it was important,” Jon looks between them with large, worried eyes. Always assuming the worst. “It’s nothing bad, is it?”

“Jon, I thought the twelve reassuring texts and afternoon phone call put that to rest,” Gerry replies as he steers them towards the couch. “Suppose I should’ve just told you. I wanted it to be a surprise.” He unlocks his phone and scrolls until he finds the ad, handing it over to Jon.

His eyes immediately light up, alert and awake. “Cat!”

“Cat,” Martin agrees, settling down beside them. “We were thinking of getting one for the bookstore-”

“Of course,” Jon’s smiling that rare, bright grin and Martin melts just a little. “It’s only logical. And I do like black cats-”

“Damn it!” Gerry groans, startling them both. He throws his phone down on the couch, crossing his arms in a sulk. “Someone just claimed her. I knew I should’ve said something-”

But Jon’s already fishing his phone out, his smile not dimming in the slightest. “There’s a shelter not too far from here- I’ll see if we have to make an appointment. Martin, can you call Georgie? She’s got an excellent carrier for the Admiral, and she can probably recommend other necessities-”

They end up going to bed at midnight anyway.

________

“I still don’t see why we had to order so much,” Martin complains after another confirmation email lights up his phone. The credit card bill’s going to be astronomical this month. “Surely we’re overpreparing. We don’t have room for the deluxe cat tower in the shop, and we certainly don’t need one for the flat as well.”

“I assure you these are all necessities, Martin.” Gerry and Martin are both fairly tall, but even they have trouble keeping up with Jon’s brisk pace, sharing a fond look over his head. Jon managed to find them a Saturday appointment with a rather impressive combination of wheedling and charm. When it came to cats, Jon didn’t pull his punches. They made it to the shelter in record time and Jon burst through the doors, his next words full of self-importance. “We’re expected. Jonathan Sims.”

They’re led back to a large room by an amused assistant, Jon at the front of their little line. Martin watches as his eyes light up upon seeing the many cages that lined the wall; even Gerry seems a bit excited, though he tries to hide it by hanging back. Gerry’s never been much of an animal person; he shares Jon’s distaste of loud and jumpy dogs too unpredictable in their behavior. He only just started getting used to the Admiral, and that was through much prodding on Jon’s part. Jon’s love is surprisingly infectious. 

Jon peers into each cage intently, answering every inquisitive noise with a prim “Pleased to meet you.” One of the first cages contains a fluffy brown cat with curious eyes and Martin stops to poke a finger through the door. “Walnut” (as provided by a helpful nameplate) does not respond, though she seems interested. 

Jon’s already halfway down the row before he stops in his tracks, eyes trained on a large, grumpy ball of gray fur sitting right at the bars of the cage. He’s missing an eye, and he begins to growl as soon as Jon nears him.

“This one.” He declares, staring as if entranced. He hasn’t even touched it or attempted to pet it- they’re locked in some sort of silent standoff. Martin’s reminded of those romantic comedies Jon and Gerry hate, where couples lock eyes across the room and it's love at first sight. He surreptitiously takes a picture. Adorable. 

“Jimmy?” The assistant inquires. Jon scoffs at the plainness of the name. “He’s been here awhile. Not very friendly, I’m afraid.”

“No, not Jimmy.” Jon offers up a hand, and the cat comes closer, sniffing at it with suspicion. After a few moments, he butts his head against Jon’s hand, earning a smile. “Lance Corporal.”

“No.”

Jon swivels around, eyes narrowing at Gerry’s words. It’s the first time he’s spoken and he’s got one eyebrow quirked up in amusement. It’s a good look on him. Jon, however, is having none of it and he puts a hand to his hip. “And why not?”

“It’s such a mouthful.” Martin has to agree; it doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue. “I’m not going to call him that. What about Lance?”

Jon wrinkles his nose. “Ew.”

Martin sighs; Gerry and Jon get along like a house on fire but when they bicker, they bicker. He eyes the cat that’s now rubbing against Jon’s hand and purring; he hopes the its sudden geniality will extend to Martin and Gerry. Jon would pick a cat that’s just as prickly as he can be.

Martin gives it a good look, coming up beside Jon at ‘Jimmy’s’ cage. The cat immediately stops its gravely purr, it’s eye now trained on Martin. It’s unnerving, Martin never thought a cat could radiate authority but this one surely managed to. If any animal deserves a title, it’s this one.  “What about the Captain?” he asks in a fit of inspiration.

They both turn to look at him; Gerry amused, Jon thoughtful. “Go on.”

“It’s a title, you always liked the naval ones.” Jon nods in agreement, the beginnings of a smile on his face. “He looks like an old sailor, very distinguished. I dunno, I think it’s cute.”

“The Captain,” Jon whispers in awe as the cat resumes rubbing against his hand. “Martin, that’s perfect. Inspired, even.”

He can’t help preening a bit. “Thank you.” Gerry rolls his eyes.

And then there’s the moment of truth- the assistant opens the cage door and Jon steps forward with all the solemnity of a man about to be knighted. He reaches out his arms and the cat lets itself be picked up, going limp as Jon brings it to his chest. He sighs in contentment, giving himself one more moment of bliss before he perks up and opens his eyes.

“Now pick yours.”

_________

Three. They’ve got three fucking cats.

Martin and Gerry immediately began to refuse, but Jon was insistent. “The Captain is obviously very partial to me, and I think you should have some say in who we adopt. If we each get one it eliminates any favoritism. It’s only logical.”

There was nothing logical about it. Three cats and three people in their tiny flat, or worse, destroying their bookstore. They didn’t have the space, the cats might not get along, it would be too expensive. But Jon wouldn’t hear of it, countering every point in a calmness that was borderline unnerving. Martin shot Gerry a pleading look; he’d gone silent after the initial refusal, content to let Martin do most of the arguing, but he just shook his head in amusement- he knew how this would end, and Martin did too. As the final nail in the coffin, Jon deployed the eyes and that’s how he found himself in the front of a taxi with a lapful of Walnut. She’s a friendly thing, instantly purring on contact and meowing whenever he turned away. Martin hadn’t the heart to turn it away.

Gerry took more time. He slunk around the cages and the cats seemed to sense his reluctance. But soon he came upon a small, sleek black cat, not unlike the one from the Facebook post. It was a tentative thing, barely coming to the edge of its cage to sniff at his fingers, but Gerry was determined, patiently waiting the fifteen minutes it took to get him to warm up. Martin didn’t point out the similarities between it and a certain goth, though he shared a knowing look with Jon.

“I’ve got it - the Unfathomable Void.”

“Dear God,” Martin muttered, rolling his eyes. So dramatic, the both of them.

Jon snorted. “That’s a bit much.”

“Okay, Lance Corporal.”

“Excuse me-!”

“Settle down, boys,” Martin put a hand on Jon’s shoulder, he looked liable to pounce. “If that’s what you want, go for it. But we’ll call him Void for short.” Gerry nodded, seemingly satisfied. Jon continued to scowl, though without any heat.

The cabbie was definitely not pleased at having to cart around three men and three cats. He muttered the entire drive while Jon bounced in the backseat, cooing at his companion. Gerry sat much more stoically, though Martin didn’t miss the tiny smile as the cat nipped at his fingers. Jon’s insistence on multiple supplies was starting to make sense now. He definitely planned this from the beginning, sneaky thing.

“Oh no,” Jon suddenly said upon entering their flat, struggling with the carrier in his hand.  Martin’s starting to think he shouldn’t have picked such a massive cat. “I forgot this was for the bookstore!” 

“Well, yeah.” Gerry sat his cage on the ground, kneeling down beside it. “I figured mine or Martin’s would do. The Captain’s not very friendly, Jon.”

“But what if they get lonely? We can’t split them up.” Jon’s eyes dart around the room, growing more conflicted by the second. “Perhaps we should keep them all at home.”

“There’s no room, Jon! And no one’s here during the day.” Martin surveys the room- the three carriers already seem to take up an enormous amount of space, not to mention the living creatures inside of them.  And all of those packages, that damn tower…

“You can take them back and forth. Commute.”

“Christ, we did not think this through.” Gerry’s smiling even as he says it, watching as the Unfathomable Void slowly makes his way out, sniffing tentatively at the air. Walnut’s content to stay in her cage, and Martin tucks her in a corner away from the other two. Jon’s already got the Captain out, holding him in his arms and refusing to let him go.

“You’re right, we didn’t.” Jon agrees, tucking his face in the Captain’s fur. “We should’ve gotten four-”

“Fuck’s sake, Jon!”

“Let’s talk about this later, alright?” Gerry takes Martin’s place as the voice of reason, a rare occurrence. “We’ll keep them at home, let them get used to us, and then we’ll figure out the bookstore situation. No sense getting worked up about it now.” Jon sighs, cradling the mass of fur to his chest and plopping down on the couch. Martin’s sure they’ll be at it again tomorrow; Jon sniping as Martin tries and fails to put together a massive cat tower, Gerry groaning about whatever surprises the cats left for them in the morning. The next few weeks were going to be stressful, to say the least.

For now, though, he sits with his partners once again until midnight, watching their new additions roam about the flat and ignore each other. Jon frets, Gerry sighs, and Martin unsuccessfully attempts to steer the conversation towards anything but cats. By the end of the night, only Void manages to feel at home, curling up in Martin’s favorite armchair (much to his chagrin). Could’ve gone worse, Martin cheers himself with. They’ll get used to the flat. And the bookstore. Probably.

Later that night, once their partner’s asleep and snoring softly between the two of them, Martin turns to Gerry, borrowing Jon’s patented sigh. 

“We’re gonna get a fourth cat, aren’t we?”

Gerry’s voice is just as resigned. “Yeah, reckon so.”

“Christ.”

-------

Others in the JGM series:

What We’re Given and What We Make

At the End of the Day

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28945809

[justmypartner]

Still Breathing: Chapter 6

Summary: AU | When a case goes sideways, Hailey wakes up in the hospital with a revelation that leaves her evaluating her life. While she recovers at Med, she meets Jay, an aloof, yet intriguing patient that catches her by surprise. The two get to know one another as they take on the task of rediscovering what it’s like to truly live, and eventually learn their lives intersect in more ways than one.

Writer’s Note: Hi!! Oh man am I excited about this chapter. It’s sweet and flirty, but also pretty angsty, so you’re welcome and I’m sorry? I’ve hit a good spot with writing this story, so I will probably be posting more often. I still can’t promise weekly updates, but I will do my best. Thank you so much for the kind words on this story. It truly means a lot. I hope you enjoy! 

Read on AO3 or below

“Hailey?”

“Hello?”

It wasn’t until a coffee cup was being raised in front of her face that she pulled out of her absent stare. 

“Sorry,” she shook her head, blinking her eyes back into focus. “Thank you,” she said, forcing a smile as she reached out to grab the cup.

Everything had been a blur since that last dance with Jay the night before. When the song ended and she finally worked up the nerve to pull away from him, she desperately tried to swallow down her emotions with the rest of the bottle of wine. Not long after, when she couldn’t get her mind to shut off, she told him she was beat and asked him to drive her home. 

She then spent the rest of the night stuck in that moment in his arms, debating whether or not she was falling in love with him, or the moment. Then, every time she closed her eyes she saw his beautiful emerald eyes and his infectious smile and she knew the question was rhetorical.

She woke the next morning with a text from him asking to meet at what had become their coffee shop. She had the weekend off. She knew he knew that, so she had no real excuse to blow him off. So, she compartmentalized everything that happened the night before and agreed to meet him there.

“You okay? You seem off this morning,” he posited, taking a sip as he eyed her from the opposite end of the table.

There he was reading her like a book, the way only he seemed to be able to do.

“Yeah, no matter how much red wine I have, I always feel it the next morning,” she lied, taking a large swig of her coffee as he nodded, eyeing her carefully as she did so. 

“Sorry,” he offered, the slight pout on his face expressing his empathy.

“Thanks,” she replied quietly.

“So, I actually asked you to meet me because I wanted to run something by you.” 

“Okay…” she said, a resistance in her voice.

“How would you feel about sneaking into a college party with me tonight?”

“Why on Earth would we do that?” she breathed out a laugh with the question.

“I’ve never been. It’s on my list.”

“You’ve never been to a college party before?”

“Nope. I enlisted right out of high school, then my active duty filled the education requirement for the academy. Never even stepped foot on a college campus until I was a cop and needed to for a case,” he said with a shrug.

“You’re not missing much. I only went to maybe one party in my undergrad years, wasn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

“Yeah well, my brother spent all of his college years partying. Figured I ought to see what the hype was all about. I was waiting for fall to come around so I could blend in with of all the incoming students, but I only want to go if you agree to come with me.” 

“Fine, but only because it’s on your list… You’re going to have to do something about this look though,” she said, waving a hand in front of her as she gestured to his outfit.

“My look? What about you? You’re the one who dresses like a cop.”

She scoffed, taking one of the sugar packets on the table and flinging it in his direction. He flinched, a sneaky grin on his face as he laughed at his own joke.

“I can still wear my hat, right?” he asked once the laughter died down, a serious look overcoming his face.

“Yeah. I actually think I still have a U of C one you can borrow.”

“Cool.”

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without a hat.”

“You don’t want to. The chemo has thinned my hair out so much. I just haven’t had the courage to shave it all off yet.”

A sad look overcame her face, and she quickly adjusted it when she noticed his eyes dart away timidly.

“Actually, I have been wondering since we met, are you a brunette or a red head?” she questioned, trying to divert the mood.

“Oh, that’s a surprise.”

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head at his now intentional pattern of aloofness. 

“One day, I’m going to be the one to surprise you.”

He gave her a disbelieving nod as he brought his cup to his mouth, concealing the smile she knew was breaking out across his lips.

— — — — 

Later that evening when she had just finished clasping the back of her last earring, there was a knock at the door. She made her way downstairs, hurrying to answer it. 

Jay stood on her doorstep in a maroon button up, dark jeans, and his usual ball cap. In the time she’d known him, it was always t-shirts and henleys, so to see him more dressed up had her heart racing in an entirely new way. 

As distracted as she was by his appearance, it didn’t stop her from noticing the way his eyes trailed up and down her body. She wore black jeans, black leather boots, and a silky blue tank that cut a little low. It certainly wasn’t her typical attire, but she knew it was basic enough of a look to blend in with every other college girl at whatever party they wound up at.

“Wow,” he breathed out, his mouth falling slightly agape as he seemed to force his eyes to train on hers. 

“Wow yourself,” she told him, stepping aside so that he could come in. 

Once the door was closed, they stood before one another in her foyer, both still silently gawking at one another for a minute longer.

“So, what do you think? Do I look like I should be at a college party?” he asked after clearing his throat, holding his arms out as he sought her approval. 

She pursed her lips to the side as she eyed him up and down, taking a little more time to do so since he had granted her his permission. 

“I don’t know I feel like it just needs-“

Her eyes fell to the top of his shirt where the top button was secured. She stepped forward, her hands moving to unbutton it and expose a little more of his chest. Her breath became shallow with the proximity. She pulled the collar out a little more once the button was popped. Doing so exposed a gold chain she’d never noticed before, one with a small medallion attached that rested in the contour of his chest. She noticed the way his jaw tightened as her fingers brushed his skin when she picked it up to inspect it further. She rubbed a thumb over it in her hand, an inquisitive look on her face as she did so.

“Do you always wear this? I’ve never noticed it before.” 

“It’s my brother��s. He gave it to me a few weeks ago. It’s St. Luke, the patron saint of doctors and surgeons. My mom gave it to him when he first told her he wanted to be a doctor. He thinks it’ll somehow help me, I’m not so convinced, but it reminds me of her so I wear it,” he explained, only his mouth moving as she still inspected the small medallion in her hand. She smiled, releasing it as she took a step back, folding her arms over her chest. 

“You know, the more I learn about your brother, the more I think I might like him more than you,” she told him smugly.

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that,” he spat, squinting his eyes at her jokingly.

“Are you ready to go?” 

“Yeah, let me go get your hat.”

She momentarily disappeared upstairs, pulling the hat from her closet before descending the stairs once more.

“Here,” she told him. He grabbed it, holding it in his hand as he peered over at her with a look of patience. 

“Right, um let me get my things and we can head out,” she said, turning around to grant him the moment he was silently asking for. When she came back, his hat was swapped out and he wore a shy look on his face.

“Thanks,” he told her, and she knew it wasn’t just gratitude for the hat.

— — — —

Even a block down the street from the house they could hear the music and voices of a hundred or so college kids. It was enough to send shudders down Hailey’s spine, a reminder of why her first college party was also her last. 

“You sure you wanna do this? Can’t we just go get plastered at a bar and call it a night,” she offered, looking up at him in the dim light of the street. 

The look he sent her was one of both amusement and certainty, and she knew his decision on the night’s plans was unwavering. 

“Fine, but you’re my designated driver. The only way I’m getting through this is with booze running through my veins,” she sang.

“I didn’t plan on drinking anyway.”

The comment was enough to stop her in her tracks. She sent him a look, silently questioning the statement as a smirk grew on his face. 

“I mean I’m going to have a beer or something, but I’m not supposed to get hammered or anything. I’ve already got enough chemicals in my body trying to kill me.”

She nodded, and they continued their slow pace towards the house. Another reminder of what seemed like many lately that he was living on numbered days. She just wasn’t sure what that number was. Her face fell, and she focused her attention on each step she was taking, trying to pull herself out of the instant sullen mood she’d fallen into.

“Alcoholic,” he mumbled under his breath, causing her to kick at him playfully with the tease. It was just what she needed to smile again, but not quite enough to keep that reminder from plaguing her thoughts.

Once inside, they were met with the overwhelming smell of beer, musk, and weed. 

“How many of these kids do you think are underage?” he whisper yelled into her ear as they brushed through the crowd blocking the entrance. 

“All of them,” she returned, shaking her head at the thought of a time when she was one of the many carefree kids they were surrounded by. 

They found the drink table. Jay went for a can of cheap beer and Hailey poured herself a couple of shots of tequila. The smitten look and prideful smile he gave as he watched her down the first two were enough to make her do a third. It was going to be a long night with him looking the way he did, let alone with him looking at her like that. She knew she needed to be loosened up to get through it.

By her fourth shot she was in the middle of a crowd of people, her hips doing most of the work as she danced to whatever song was playing through the speakers. Jay opted out, claiming he was much more a slow dancer than a party dancer. 

She’d been alone for a while, a couple of young guys dancing alongside her before getting the cold shoulder and moving on. Even when the guys approached, it didn’t stop Jay’s eyes from keeping a determined stare. She pretended she didn’t notice, but he kept a watchful eye as she swayed to the rhythm of the absurdly loud music.

About an hour had passed. Hailey watched as Jay broke his stare, moving to play a few rounds of beer pong. She laughed when she watched him swap his beer for soda water when the other guys weren’t looking. Not that it mattered considering how good he was at the game. Hailey had kept her eye on him every so often as she danced with various groups of soured sorority girls. 

Eventually, the strands of hair by her face were stuck on with sweat, and she had lost sight of Jay for about 15 minutes. When she finally found him again, he was leaned against a wall, some young college girl standing only inches away from him, hung on his every word. 

She blamed it on the booze, but it sent a heat rising in her. She couldn’t blame the girl, he looked damn good, but she couldn’t help but envy how oblivious the girl was to what it meant to be close to him.  

She watched from the other side of the party, the low light seeming to only shine on the two of them in that large room of people. Her jaw was clenched and she thought about going over and pulling him away, being close to him in a way that had been stuck in her mind since the night before.  

She then watched as he said something that sent the girl running, and a smile came across her face. She made her way over to him, his eyes lighting up when he saw her. 

“You must really know how to sweet talk a girl,” she teased, practically having to scream over the noise. 

“You would know,” he said it in a way that caused her cheeks to become even warmer than they already were. 

“What’d you tell her?”

“She asked if I would go to her um… what’d she call it? Formal or something? She said it was some sorority thing. I told her I couldn’t because I have chemo that day. She thought I was kidding and then, well you saw the rest,” he chuckled, both of them looking over Hailey’s shoulder as the girl found some other guy to mingle with. 

“You look like you’ve had fun,” he told her, instinctively bringing a hand to brush the slightly damp waves out of her face. “Why don’t we go outside for some cool air?” he offered. She nodded, grabbing a bottle of water on her way out.

The backyard was unexpectedly empty. It was a charming little courtyard with a few tiki torches keeping it dimly lit, and a big porch swing hanging from the large tree in the corner. Hailey made her way over, plopping down on the swing less than gracefully as she opened the water, her weak attempt at sobering up a bit.

“What do you think of your first college party?” she asked him as she tried to settle herself onto the swing.

“Overrated,” he said simply.

“Told you,” she returned, swallowing down a large gulp of the water.

“I kinda like seeing you like this,” he told her, laughing at the way her short legs swung back and forth to move the swing. 

“I kinda like seeing you in general,” the words came out before she could fully process, and she squinted her eyes closed tightly, cringing at how forward her boozed up brain was making her.

He leaned against a tree across from her, crossing his arms as he snickered at her words. She laughed too, shaking her head as she took another pull from the water. He brought one of his hands up to readjust his hat as he watched her. She couldn’t pull her eyes away from him. The pop of his collar, the way his eyes were still so vibrant in the low light. He was a sight to be seen, but it seemed like every time she looked at him like that lately, it only reminded her just how short her time with him could be. 

Maybe it was the alcohol coursing through her veins, or maybe it was that thing that the shooting awoke in her, but she felt like she needed to tell him how she felt. No matter how much time they had left. Then her brain dwelled on that. Time. What did his prognosis look like? She’d never asked him. Never had the courage to ask him. But in that moment? Hammered Hailey was just about ready to ask, do, and say anything.  

“How much time do we have left?” she broke after a few moments of being lost in her jumbled, tequila ridden thoughts. 

“If you’re ready we can go if you want. We don’t have to sta-“

“No. I mean how much time do we have left,” she repeated, her eyes glossing over in a way that made the sight before her look like the view through a rain coated window. 

His face was twisted in confusion, then it softened as he realized what she meant, and dropped immediately into a pain inducing look of sorrow. He walked over, grabbing the swing to stop it from moving before falling down next to her. He let out a sigh, bringing an arm to rest on the bench behind her back as she felt him looking over at her. She sniffled, fidgeting with the bottle in her hands before she brought her eyes to meet his. 

“Why now? Why wait until now to want to know that?” he asked, the words coming out benignly. 

“Because I want to tell you something, and if I’m going to tell you, I need to know first.” 

“If I tell you, will the answer change your mind about whatever it is?”

“Maybe,” he kept his eyes on her, somehow knowing she wasn’t being truthful, somehow pulling the truth out of her with one look. “No,” she looked down into her lap, took a breath, and reset their gaze. “I just need to know.”

He took a deep breath, his eyes moving to stare straight ahead as she kept hers on him. 

“I don’t know,” he shook his head, taking a beat before continuing. “If this chemo does what it’s supposed to do, if it shrinks the tumor enough, I have surgery, go a few more rounds of chemo, and I could be in the clear. If it doesn’t? Things only get worse, and… I don’t know exactly how long, but the doctors give me a 30% chance of 5 more years.”

Silence fell upon them. Her gaze pulled away from him. They both looked straight ahead, not even daring to look at one another as Hailey let the news simmer. There was a pain in the back of her throat as she tried to hold back the sadness that plagued her body. It was a heaviness that started in her chest, extended up into her head, and burned the back of her eyes with a pain she hadn’t experienced before. She pinched at her temples with one hand as she kept the tears from streaming down her face. The only sound that surrounded them was the loud bass and indistinct voices coming from inside the house.

“Change your mind?” he finally asked. She could tell he’d turned his head back to face her, but she couldn’t find it in her to look back. 

She shook her head, her stare still avoiding him as she closed her eyes. The tears that had built up spilled out and rolled down her cheeks. She groaned, those tears falling down hopelessly despite her best intentions. 

“Are you going to tell me?” he asked, his voice was hopeful and quiet, and it only broke her heart even more.

She shook her head again, sniffling as she wiped the tears away.

“It’s a surprise,” she eventually told him, her voice raspy. She finally turned to face him, forcing a smile through her hurt as she jumped from the swing.

“Hailey-“ 

“I think I am ready to go home,” she told him, resting a hand on his knee briefly before making her way around the house and out to the street, not even glancing back to see if he was following her.

The ride home was quiet. His eyes kept tied to the road, and hers roamed out the passenger window. The same magnetic like force that seemed to always pull them together was somehow pushing them away in that moment. She finished the rest of her water. It wasn’t enough to sober her up completely, but she wasn’t quite as foggy as she’d been back at the party. 

When he pulled up outside of her place, he told her a short and quiet goodnight as she hopped out. She returned his farewell, flashing him a fake smile as she closed the door and headed up towards her place. 

She walked up to her stoop, trying to focus on her steps to keep from stumbling over. She was still somewhat drunk, but she was also just overwhelmed by the emotions weighing her down. Her brain kept replaying what he said. A 30% chance of 5 more years with him, or an unknown chance of a lifetime. The idea of each scared her for different reasons, but there was only one that seemed impossible to accept.

There was the sound of a door shutting behind her, and she spun around. Her face fell into a frown as she saw him jogging towards her. He got dizzy just from standing, the last thing he needed to be doing was running after her.

“Jay, woah,” she called out, reaching her arms out towards him when he was close enough to touch. 

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” he assured through winded breaths. 

“Did you forget something or-“

“Look, I don’t know what you were going to tell me earlier, but I have something I need to tell you,” he interrupted, his chest rising and falling quickly as he tried to restabilize his breath. 

She looked up at him, a blend of confusion and expectation on her face. His head was tilted toward the ground, and she could just make out his eyes from underneath the brim of his hat. They were glossed over and they avoided hers as he seemed to prepare whatever it was he had to say. 

“I don’t know how much time I have left. That’s my truth, and it’s scary and frustrating, and probably a little unfair, but every time I think about it, all I can think about is how I want to spend every minute of whatever it is with you. It sounds crazy because we haven’t even known each other that long, but… there’s something here. It’s something I’ve known for a few weeks now, but if I’m being honest it’s something I knew somewhere in my mind from the moment I stepped on that damn elevator,” he said it with a sense of urgency and passion that broke her heart in an entirely new way that night. 

That pain of holding back her tears returned as the words cut straight to her heart. Then he reached out and wrapped his hand around her forearm, allowing it to slowly slide down until it was grasping her hand in his. She shuddered at the touch. At the electricity that seemed to jolt through her body with his fingers against her skin. There was a reluctant and almost fearful look on his face as he did so, and she just squeezed his hand back, allowing him to know it was okay. He then grabbed their joined hands with his other, stepping forward as he brought them to rest on his chest.

“Hailey, I need to tell you this, and I hope it doesn’t scare you off I just...” he cut himself off, his eyes falling to the ground once more. He inhaled sharply, bringing his eyes back up to hers and peering into them with the same desperation and fire she carried in hers.

His mouth parted and the words left his mouth as if time had slowed down. It was one sentence, six simple words, but she could have sworn the world stopped spinning when he said them. 

“I’m falling in love with you.”

[xbellaxcarolinax]

Naranja

Pairing: Ivar x reader

Word Count: 1365

Warnings: None, just FLUFF.

Summary: The discovery of a certain fruit leads to another discovery that Ivar wasn’t prepared for.

Beautiful mood board made by the amazing @flowers-in-your-hayr​ 

This was written for the equally amazing @youbloodymadgenius​‘s 1k challenge! Thank you for allowing me to participate and congrats again! I haven’t been in the writing spirit due to lack of inspiration and confidence, but writing this helped with my writers block, so thank you!! 

Shout out to my beta reader @shannygoatgruff​ 

Prompt is in bold. As always, I tagged those who might be interested. Hope ya’ll like it!

...

King Ivar usually slept on his stomach. The position made it far simpler to reach for the weapon he slept upon should the occasion call for its use.  

  His eyes shot open when the bed shifts, his hand immediately burrowing under his pillow to retrieve his trusty dagger. But, there was no danger afoot. No, just his wife giggling to herself in the early hours of dawn, eating from a clay bowl in her lap. 

  “My love,” Ivar groggily whispers over to her, lazily shaking his messy hair from his eyes. “Is there a particular reason for...whatever it is you’re doing? It is barely dawn.” He observed her curiously, releasing his hold from the hilt of his dagger and draping his arm over her abdomen instead.  

  “Naranja.” She brings her sparkling gaze to meet his tired one, uttering the foreign word that, to Ivar, had no meaning. 

  “Hmm?” 

  “Naranja!” She repeats the word again, producing from the clay bowl a sweetly fragrant...something. 

  “Well,” Ivar eyes it wearily, “What is it?”  

  “Can you not see that it is a fruit?” She brings the object closer to his line of vision, and he found himself closing his eyes as soon as the scent of it dominated his senses. It smelled wonderful. “The merchant trades it from Al-Andalus. The Saxons call it orange.” Ivar always did have a softness for her childlike enthusiasm, and over a fruit no less. And so, he indulges her. He lifts himself to his elbows to inspect the object further despite his overwhelming desire to fall into slumber again.

  “Is it eaten like an apple?” He brings his finger to scratch a nail over the fruit's surface, surprised at the strange texture and momentarily horrified at the thought of having to take a bite of something so rough to the touch. 

  “Let me show you.” Putting the bowl between them, she began to peel at the thick skin, revealing the soft guts that she claimed were good to eat. Her fingers worked to split the pieces apart, gently placing one on his bottom lip.  

  “Here.” She offers. Ivar spread his lips obediently, his teeth tearing at the foreign fruit. The juices burst in his mouth and his eyes grow round at the citrus flavor coating his tongue. He stopped chewing for a moment, his drowsiness disappearing as he gazed at his wife in pure delight. The taste was something he had never encountered before. It was bitter, yet somehow sweet.  

  Ivar reached over to snatch another piece of the delicious fruit from her palm, licking his lips free of the sweet juice, but she quickly moved her hand back and away from his eagerness. 

  “I am hungry, and they are mine.” 

  “How is it that suddenly, you are always hungry?” Ivar mutters, maneuvering himself to sit upright, “And at odd hours of the day. I fear the kitchens will be empty come winter.” That earned him a weak blow to the nape considering he married a shieldmaiden and a strong one at that. How could he have known she was saving her strength for more strenuous activities that would happen in nine months’ time? 

  “Well, with that kind of talk, I suppose I have no reason to disclose any news to you.” That familiar stubborn tone of hers was rearing its head, just as it did when they were children, and Ivar refused with all his might to play games with her. That refusal had not lasted long now that they played other games. 

  “What? What news?” He demanded, wrestling for another piece of fruit only for her to shove the rest of the pieces into her mouth in retaliation. 

  “Mm–news that perhaps should wait—Hey!” Ivar successfully snatches another naranja from the bowl she failed to hide, giving his back to her like a little mouse feeding off cheese as he clumsily began peeling the tough skin.  

  “Ivar!” She throws her arms over his shoulders in a fit of giggles, unsuccessful in her endeavor to snatch the fruit away from him. 

  “I will only eat half!” He promises. 

  “But that is the last one! 

  “Then I will buy you more, woman!” 

  “The merchant only has a limited supply, and I am sure that Hvitserk has purchased the last of them, the hungry fool!”  

  “Then I suppose you shall have to wait for the merchant to come back next year.” 

  “But I am eating for two!” They both pause simultaneously as soon as she said those words. Ivar turns to face her again, a barely peeled naranja in his weak grip. His eyes were bigger than the moon, just as they were the first time he had seen her nakedness in their adolescence.  

  “What?” He asked stupidly, placing the fruit down to slowly move closer to her. She plops back down on the bed, biting her lip with eyes turned away. “What did you say?” His tone drops to something sickly sweet, so unlike him in the face of the rest of the world, but very much in character with how he treats his beloved wife and queen.  

  “Nothing.” She says quickly, the half-peeled fruit they were both fighting over now forgotten. 

  “I must admit, you had my curiosity,” Ivar points at the fruit laying between the sheets as if speaking to it directly before turning to address his wife, “But now you have my attention. Go on, please.”  

  “I... wanted to be certain.” She breaks into a shy smile, playing with the ends of her braided hair as she always did when nervous, “And I did not want to disappoint you if it were untrue.”  

  “So, you mean to say…” Ivar trails off, the blue of his irises shifting into brilliant tones as their chambers slowly lit up with the rising sun. The corners of his mouth twitch as if fighting away a smile. She nods, her lips stretching into an infectious grin that Ivar found himself reciprocating. 

  “In a few months, there will be three of us fighting in bed over fruit.” She confesses, squealing in glee as Ivar moved the naranja aside and tackled her down onto the warm furs, peppering sweet, sticky kisses over her face in his joy. 

 “Are you happy?” She asks over his plush lips, already knowing the answer. 

  “How can I not be?” With one final kiss, Ivar falls on his back, bringing her to his side in one quick swoop of his toned arm. His other hand reaches for the fruit that he was somehow still conscious of. He takes it and gives it one last look of longing before relinquishing it to his wife. “Here. You deserve it more than I do.” Without missing a beat, she snatches it from him with quick fingers, removing the rest of the protective skin and ripping off the slices one by one before popping them in her mouth as if she had not eaten in days. Once she licked her fingers clean, she shifted enough to gaze at Ivar, finding that he was already watching her with clear amusement.  

  “My love?” And then there was that other tone, the sweet one she uses when whispering in his ear as they make love right before a battle. 

  “Hmm?”  

  “I lied.” His brow wrinkled and his eyes narrowed just a bit, his mind already racing at the thought of her lying about a child. 

  “Wh–” 

  “The naranjas. There are many more in the kitchens,” She smiles, a giggle bubbling up in her chest as soon as Ivar’s signature pout blooms, “The temptation to see you in such a state over a fruit! Not in the years that I have known you have you reacted so passionately!” 

  “Has my growing child caused you to forget how passionate I am for you? I should hope not.” He grumbles, bringing her flush to his bare chest and closing his eyes for another hour of well-deserved sleep before his demanding day as king would begin.  

  When dusk had spread its wings over Kattegat, and their meal was being laid out, the king's wife stifles a laugh behind decorated fingers when she hears her husband in the kitchens demanding naranjas for supper. 

...

@heavenly1927​ @didiintheblog​ @a-mess-of-fandoms​ @leilabeaux​ @shannygoatgruff​ @inforapound​ @walkxthexmoon​ @hecohansen31​ @flowers-in-your-hayr​ @youbloodymadgenius​ @peachyboneless​ @fuchsiagrasshopper​ @pomegranates-and-blood​ @pieces-by-me​

[asweetprologue]

me lámh le do lámh - Part X (epilogue)

First | Previous | Masterpost

“Do you think,” Jaskier said, “that Yennefer is going to be really, truly unbearable about this?”

Geralt turned to look at him. They were on the Path back to Kaer Morhen, probably a few more days out, by his mark. Roach was meandering ahead, so used to the trek that she probably could have made it without him. The air held a sharp bite to it that promised colder days ahead, but for now the sun still shone merrily above them, keeping the frosts at bay. They had begun heading north well before the chill had truly begun to set in, both ready for the comfort of warm lodgings and old friends. Geralt smiled, thinking about seeing Ciri again soon.

Triss had no doubt told Yennefer that Geralt planned to marry the bard to grant him greater longevity, but they’d not yet told anyone that they were actually married now. Geralt could feel his own golden ring bumping against his chest, nestled next to his medallion. Jaskier’s was hidden under layers of fur and leather, Geralt having bullied him into wearing gloves now that they were in cooler climes.

He thought about Jaskier’s question for a moment. “Yes,” he finally settled on. “But she’ll be pleased, too.”

Jaskier knocked their shoulders together as they walked, reaching out to take Geralt’s hand in his bulky gloved one. He had begun doing that a lot lately—just holding Geralt’s hand, or sitting against his side when they stopped to rest. Always touching, even more so than before. It never failed to make a slow, pleased warmth spread through Geralt’s chest. It was a good thing he couldn’t blush, or this winter would be a nightmare of teasing.

As if it wasn’t going to be already.

“I admit I’m a bit worried she’ll turn me into an eel or something.” Jaskier pulled them to a stop as they rounded a bend on the mountain path. The valley spread out below them, the golden fields and dense reds and oranges of the forest winking up at them. “I’ve never been up when there were still leaves on the trees,” Jaskier said, gripping Geralt’s hand tighter. “It’s beautiful.”

Geralt kept his eyes on Jaskier, smiling fondly. “Hmm,” he said by way of agreement.

Jaskier glanced at him, and then rolled his eyes, though he was smiling as a blush spilled across his cheeks. “Oh, stop. You’re incorrigible.”

Geralt shifted closer, until he was smiling into Jaskier’s flushed skin. “Mm. I have it on good authority that you don’t mind.” He nosed at Jaskier’s hair. It was deep brown again, no grey in sight, and the skin around his eyes was unmarred by wrinkles. They might return one day, Geralt knew, but no time soon. His own wrinkles had grown a bit deeper, his bad knee a little more twingy, his reflexes a bit slower. Jaskier had been concerned the first week, as Geralt adjusted to the sudden onset of more human physiology.

It was worth it. Jaskier was here with him, and Geralt couldn’t regret a little stiffness in his joints if it meant he got to have this.

Jaskier turned his head until he could press their lips together briefly, pulling away with another smile, cheeks still flaming. “We should keep going,” he said. “Roach is starting to lose us.”

It was true; Roach had continued on heedless of their pause, clearly disinterested in her master’s preoccupation. Geralt laughed, feeling lighter than he had since he’d first laid eyes on Ciri in those woods. “Wouldn’t want to get shown up by a horse,” he agreed, turning back towards the path. Jaskier stayed close to his side the rest of the day.

*

Yennefer, as it turned out, was not the one they needed to be concerned about.

“I knew it!” Ciri crowed, clinging to Geralt’s shoulders. As soon as they’d walked through the front gates she’d launched herself into his arms. “You were so mopey when he wasn’t around.”

Jaskier snickered beside him. Their good mood was infectious, and Geralt found himself smiling as he lowered Ciri back to the ground. “Don’t say it,” he warned Ciri in good humor. “He doesn’t need the ego boost.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Jaskier drawled, giving Ciri a wink. “You’ve already told me you loved me six times since this morning. A fellow might start to get ideas.”

Geralt squinted at him. “Have you been counting?”

“Yuck,” Ciri said with relish. Behind them, Yennefer made a shockingly childish gagging sound.

Jaskier flushed up to his hairline, though he still seemed pleased with himself. Geralt watched the color progress with interest.

“Well, I’m glad neither of you died in this frankly suicidal endeavour.” Yennefer stepped forward to join their small circle. She was as stunning as ever, her dark hair pinned away from her face to expose the long line of her neck. “The others were taking bets.”

Geralt sighed, wishing he could be more surprised. “So they all know?”

“Triss won the pot,” Yennefer informed him gleefully. “Though they don’t know that yet. The rest of us were less confident in your collective capacity for forthright communication.”

“Are you going to have a real wedding?” Ciri demanded, hands coming up to rest on her hips. “It’s not fair that we all had to miss it. I didn’t even get to make your crowns!”

“We didn’t wear any,” Geralt assured her. Jaskier had turned to look at him, radiating excitement. Geralt avoided his gaze. “We’ll think about it,” he hedged, and felt Jaskier’s hand reach out to squeeze his briefly.

Ciri hissed in victory regardless. She snagged Jaskier’s free hand in her own, tugging lightly. “You have to tell me everything.”

Jaskier grinned at her, and the warmth that filled Geralt’s chest at the sight of the two of them threatened to overwhelm him. “Well you know our witcher of few words will do it no justice,” Jaskier agreed, and Geralt’s huff was lost under the sound of their laughter.

*

Later, after they’d received wry congratulations from Vesemir, after Jaskier had regaled the others with a hilarious retelling of their strange coming together, after they’d sent Ciri off to bed and retired to their own room—just one now—Jaskier spoke.

“We don’t have to,” he murmured, pressing the words into Geralt’s neck. They weren’t really trying to sleep, but they were both too tired for anything more strenuous. Instead they lay tangled together under the quilts, skin to skin. Jaskier’s head was tucked under Geralt’s jaw, and he amused himself by drawing ambling patterns along Jaskier’s back. It had become his favorite way to pass the time. He felt drunk off of it every time, hazy with comfort and affection.

He hummed, taking a moment to process Jaskier’s words. The soft kiss Jaskier pressed to his shoulder didn’t help. “What do you mean?” he rumbled, enjoying the way it made Jaskier shiver against him.

“The whole wedding thing,” Jaskier said. “I know Ciri seemed excited, but—I don’t know if you would want to reenact all that in front of everyone. We don’t need to.” He brought his free hand up to trace a finger along the ring that rested in the hollow of Geralt’s throat. “This is enough for me.”

“I know,” Geralt smiled, shifting slightly so he could meet Jaskier’s eyes. “But you want to.”

Jaskier wriggled uncomfortably, flushing. He did that a lot nowadays; Geralt was hopelessly enamored with it. With him. “You know me,” Jaskier shrugged, half explanation, half apology.

“Hey,” Geralt said, capturing Jaskier’s chin so that he could press a chaste kiss to his lips. The tension melted out of him immediately, gratifying. “Anything you want, remember? I don’t mind. I’ll marry you as many times as you want me to.”

Jaskier beamed then, and their next kiss was sloppy with it. Geralt couldn’t remember being so happy in his entire life. “Don’t say that,” Jaskier warned with a grin, joy bubbling up underneath his words. “We’ve got decades and decades now. I’m probably going to want you to marry me a lot. Any way I can think of.”

They had time. He would propose to Jaskier in a hundred different ways, court him with gifts and sweet words, bind him with foreign phrases and silver rings and anything else he could think of. It didn’t matter; they were already one heart. But he wanted it, wanted to see Jaskier’s surprise and joy over and over. “Let’s start with this one,” he said thickly, brushing Jaskier’s hair away from his face tenderly. “I love you. Will you marry me?”

Jaskier laughed as he answered, “Yes, I love you too, yes,” and Geralt knew it was only the beginning.

~

and that’s a wrap! thank you so much to everyone who followed along and everyone who helped me finish this thing. if you missed them before, @herostag and @silvertonguelover created the art for this series, so go check them out! i hope you all enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it!

tags: @whereismymonsterlover