#THANK YOU FOR SENDING ME THIS ANON I WILL NOW RETREAT INTO THE WOODS TO HOWL AT CELESTIAL BODIES FOR A FORTNIGHT

[stormyoceans]

https://x.com/Itsjuzm3/status/1791131184400855192

I'm🪦⚱️⚰️

SLACK JAWED SHAKING OUT OF MY SKIN CRYING SHITTING YELLING AT THE TOP OF MY LUNGS FOAMING AT THE MOUTH THROWING UP BLOOD WHILE IN A DEAD FAINT ON THE FLOOR EXPERIENCING THE ENTIRE RANGE OF HUMAN EMOTIONS

THE WAY AT A FIRST GLANCE I THOUGHT THIS WAS A PAINTING AND HAD TO DO A DOUBLE TAKE WHEN I REALIZED IT’S AN ACTUAL LEGITIMATE HONEST TO GOD REAL PICTURE FROM JIMMYSEA’S NEW MAGAZINE PHOTOSHOOT??????????? MY GRASP ON THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE IS TOO LIMITED TO EVEN ATTEMPT TO PUT INTO WORDS THE STATE OF ABSOLUTE AWE IM CURRENTLY IN LIKE THE COLORS?????????? THE VISUALS?????????? LITERALLY A MASTERPIECE IT SHOULD BE FRAMED AND HUNG IN EVERY SINGLE ART MUSEUM ALL AROUND THE WORLD AND ALSO ON EVERY SINGLE WALL OF MY PADDED ROOM

[starlightiing]

Quick!!! Don't think!!! This is a hold up!!! Lestappen with the prompt 'blood'!!!! Something short, and GO!!!!!

Hi Anon! This wasn't quick, nor is it short. But thank you for inspiring me to write tonight, when I was spending most of my time wallowing in self-doubt and self-pity about my abilities. This is set in my Winged Creature universe, and is just a glance into the entire set-up that world has to offer. I hope you enjoy and thank you again!

The sight of blood always quickens Charles' pulse, no matter how it may be overabundant or inescapable in his line of work. The sight of blood means trouble, and typically that trouble comes with an angel packed up in a pretty bow at the end of the trail, hanging on to their last moments of life with a desperation Charles hopes he never comes to understand (or perhaps, unfortunately, he already does. Maybe that's why he spends hours in the bathroom after, emptying his stomach time and time again until he's certain not even acid could possibly remain. Maybe he does know exactly the kind).

This particular trail of blood is harder to follow. The line is thin, with the drops mingling into dark soil where they are almost impossible to see. But where there is blood, there is trouble, and so Charles keeps his flashlight trained to every single spot of crimson he can decipher until he's lead to what looks to be a small, poorly constructed cabin of sorts in the middle of a small clearing. Trees tower around all sides of the house, almost encircling it, which provides the perfect shelter and limited visibility anyone could need to lay low.

Charles dims the light as he approaches, watching his breath drift upwards into the cooler air of the night. He is used to these woods being eerily silent with the lack of life - wild or otherwise - but the sounds that emanate from within the dilapidated cabin send shivers up his spine.

There are no lights that Charles can see. Two windows grace either side of the cabin, both darker than the night sky and with no glass in their panes. The wood holding the cabin together is thin and unevenly cut, and Charles thinks he could probably tap the damned thing and it would collapse to the ground with little to no effort at all.

In addition to it looking anything but inviting, there are soft, breathless whines of pain filtering out of the windows into the night. Something akin to a wounded animal - though Charles knows far better than to believe that.

He curses softly beneath his breath and breaks out into a sprint towards the cabin as fast as his legs will carry him. If those are the sounds of a distressed angel, he could have minutes, or even mere seconds, to get them help. His gun is within reach, carefully slung across his back in the event hunters are still occupying the cabin with the angel.

Or, more cryptically, in the event the angel is beyond saving.

The ground crunches beneath Charles' feet as he runs, the remains of dead leaves scattered about the dirt make both for a noisy approach to the cabin, and a slippery one. He skids slightly as he nears the doorway, reaching out to keep himself upright by grabbing hold of the wood trimming. As expected, it snaps out of place beneath his grip and it's a miracle he manages to keep himself on his feet.

"Fuck," he hisses breathlessly, raising his flashlight up for some visibility inside the pitch-black cabin. There's a table and two chairs haphazardly overturned a few feet away from the doorway, obvious evidence of a struggle, and more blood painted across the floor in the tell-tale smears of a hasty retreat. If there were hunters here - and it appears as though that was the case - they are long gone now. "Hello?"

A gasp echoes to his right, and Charles darts the flashlight across the room towards the spot where it originated. No amount of training or experience will ever fully ready Charles for the horrors he finds at the ends of blood trails.

Most especially this horror.

A young man, perhaps no older than Charles himself, lay curled in the fetal position. He’s tucked far into the corner, surrounded by the biggest puddle of blood Charles thinks he’s ever seen in his life. On the man’s back are deep, jagged, angry looking gashes where - he can only assume - wings used to reside not all too long ago. Two beautiful feathers, silky and blue, are clenched tightly in the man’s hands like a lifeline. 

And he’s shaking. Oh, god, is he shaking.

“Oh my god,” Charles says, rushing over to the fallen angel’s side to better assess the damage. He knows these wounds aren’t survivable without medical attention, but the fact that the poor man is still alive after losing all of that blood, well, that is a feat in itself. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s alright, I won’t hurt you.” 

The angel does not respond immediately to Charles’ words, but he does peek his head up from the floor to fasten two pained, glassy eyes directly onto Charles. Once contact is made, the angel’s eyes widen in fear, and Charles puts his one unoccupied hand up to show he has no ill-intent. “I promise I won’t hurt you. I am here to help.”

“Y-You can’t help - help me. No - no one can.” the man sputters, appearing unable to control the tremors that come with the onset of shock - hypovolemic shock, if Charles remembers correctly. This isn’t good, he needs medical attention faster than Charles can get him to it.

“Well, you have never met me. I am able to make miracles happen. Can you tell me your name?” Charles asks, reaching forward to press his fingertips against the pulse-point at one of the angel’s wrists. As he suspects, the pulse is too quick and too weak - more symptoms of shock to add to the list. He doesn’t have much time -

“M-Max. Call me Max.” The trembling is full-body, and Charles has half a mind to wince in discomfort on his behalf. If there is any relief to be found, however, it’s that Max has the cognisance to not only respond, but recall his own name. 

“Okay, Max. You can call me Charles,” he says softly, switching off the flashlight and tucking it into his pocket for a quick draw should he need it later. “I need you to hold on for me, okay? I am taking you someplace safe, to a friend that can help you. I know it is probably too much to ask for your trust, but I promise you are safe with me.” 

Max hums in response, but Charles doesn’t waste time trying to decipher what that could possibly mean. He reaches out to pull Max into his arms and only then does he realize just how badly he’s shaking as well. 

With a grunt of effort, Charles manages to curl Max up into his arms and hoist him up from the floor. His shoes are slick in the blood that surrounds them, but he keeps his balance through the sheer power of will and will alone - Max is depending on him, the only thing standing between recovery or death, and Charles will be damned straight to hell before he allows it to be the latter option.

“Ch-Charles…you are safe?” Max chokes out, between soft mewls of pain. “I don’t - don’t want -” he pauses for a breath, one that comes far too shaky for Charles’ liking, “Don’t want to die yet.”

“It is not your time, Max, but you have to keep fighting. Fight with whatever you have left in you.”

Max’s eyes close, then, and his head lolls weightlessly to the side. Charles feels something snap in his chest as he darts through the woods as fast as he can manage holding a body larger than his own against him. There’s no time for him to stop and check for vitals, or to offer any lingering comfort to a man that might very well be taking his last breath right this very moment. All Charles can do is run, and so he does.

“Fuck!” he screams, feeling tears burn behind his eyes. “Stay with me, Max! Stay!” 

If he’s crying when he reaches the sanctuary, neither Alex or Lando say a goddamn word. Max is pulled from his arms with alarming force, causing Charles to fall forward onto his knees with Lando quick to his side. Distantly, above Lando’s soft murmurs of comfort and the feverish beating of his own heart in his ears, he thinks he hears Alex say, “I’ve got a pulse!”

“Oh, fuck. Oh thank fuck.” Charles cries, leaning his entire body over onto Lando’s shoulder as the weight of his relief is too heavy for him to manage on his own. Warm, delicate wings wrap around him from either side like a cocoon, followed by a pair of welcoming arms that pull him in close and cradle him in all the ways he needs to ease the ache in his burning chest.

“You did good, Charles.” he hears Lando say from above him, and he chokes on a sob that tears its way out of his throat.. “You did so good.”

Charles thinks, perhaps, only time will tell if those words are actually true.

[winxwannabe]

37. “Where were you when I needed you?” for bloom and Jim please and thank you

“What do you mean no?”

“I mean no,” Jim said, rather pointedly, only glancing up from polishing the dark metal of his hook. “Tinkerbell’s beyond redemption, Bloom - there’s no point in trying to get through to her. Especially if the only way involves getting that brat back here.”

“We have to try! The darkness in her heart might be able to be repelled. She needs us -”

Bloom was cut off by Jim slamming the hook into the fallen tree he was sitting on. “And where were you when I needed you?”

She blinked. “I…what do you mean?”

Jim stared at her for several long, quiet moments, then sighed and started working to free his weapon from the bark. “It’s been two months,” he finally elaborated. “Since the Queen retreated. Two months since you left. And if your story’s to be believed, coming back wasn’t even your choice. Forget about us, already?”

“Never,” the words tumbled out so quickly there was no way she could have been lying.

He must have realized, too, because Bloom saw his lips turn upwards in the most imperceptible smile. “You could have fooled me, luv.”

Bloom narrowed her eyes, but still found herself smiling. She stepped closer and sat on the other side of the still-embedded hook. “There wasn’t a day that went by where I didn’t think about you. Not a single alleyway I walked by without looking for you in the shadows.”

That earned her a chuckle. “Closets opened peacefully?”

“Not since you jumped out of the last one.” Bloom reached down and grabbed the hilt of the hook. Together, the two of them pulled it out of the wood. She smiled at him, but it dissipated when she saw the bags under his eyes. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here Jim. To help you fight for Neverland.”

Something cold slid against her neck, and Bloom realized it was the hook, sliding around her neck and tugging her face towards his. “I can protect my home. That’s not what I missed.”

“Oh. Oh…”

“Oh,” Jim repeated, and that smirk was on his face again. The one Bloom used to think meant he was planning something deceitful, but now knew was just his own form of armor. “But…maybe I misread that…situation. Did I?”

“I…wouldn’t say that. Necessarily.”

His smirk widened. “What a relief. I’m not usually wrong about those things, you know.”

Bloom found herself matching his look. “Shameless flirt.”

“Stubborn fairy.”

She reached up and took his hand, guiding the hook off her neck. “I missed you, too.”

Bloom x Jim Nation, how we doing?? It's been too long; bless you for sending this, anon! Damn, I forgot how much I love writing these two. Sure hope it doesn't awaken anything (again)! I'll probably stop taking prompts in a few days because I've got a few to do now, so send one in if you've been thinking!

[thelustybraavosimaid]

keep writing those pathetic jonrya fics so i can send it to my friends and laugh about how jon would never treat sansa that way 😂😂 you guys are going to be so pathetic when jonsa becomes canon in the books too, jonrya shippers are as ugly as their fav thats why jon would never want to marry arya not even in fics

"Then come here," he said as he took another step, and then another, until he reached down to grab her cloak and pin it around her shoulders, crowning her in soft mist. Then he lifted his hands to fix the wisp of lace in her hair before he took her hands in his, "and wed me." He smiled again, filled with pride and a tinge of sadness. "When I say you look beautiful, Arya, I mean it."

His words were sweeter to her ears than they had any right to be.

Arya looked at the emptiness around them. Those who would be on either side of them were gone, left either on the road or in retreat in the keep. It was her lord father who should be here, to bind their hands together with soft strips of silk as proof of their everlasting unity. Yet there was no one corporeal here--no one but them, the heart tree, and an eerie--but strangely comforting--silence of a thousand and one voiceless, nameless gods.

"We can't get married now," she sighed. She stared up into the neverending blackness of the sky, at the red and blue and silver twinkles of the stars filling her gaze before she peered back at Aemon. "I'm sure my lord father is off to bed."

"There's another way, an older way. No one need be here but us, as I'd prefer," he replied with a gentle smile. "Give me our sword."

Our sword. Aemon's eyes bore into hers, dark and enticing. The proposal before the proposal.

The proof that he'd always be with her, just like he told her that day.

Her hand reached to grasp the pommel as if on its own accord.

The sword slid from its sheath in a soft hush as she handed it to him. He ran it across his palm until a flow of red coloured his skin. He passed the blade to Arya, bidding her do the same.

"We'll be bound by blood, in all ways now, little cousin," Aemon murmured when she brought her hand against his, their mixed life force flowing down and kissing the decay of the earthen floorbed. He kissed the back of her hand before pulling away, pressing his bloody hand near the mouth of the great heart tree. They were so close that their breaths mingled, yet his seemed cold, as cold as his hands. Even his blood was frigid.

She tried to ignore it as he began his vows, and she hers.

"Do you swear to take this man in life and death?" His grey eyes looked strange then, penetrating, deeper than the black pool in these great woods she tried to find the bottom of.

"That's not part of the oath," she told him, confused.

"Swear it to me all the same," he whispered, bending down to rub his nose against hers. So she did, and as the last word fell from her lips, Aemon nudged his forehead with hers and soon dipped down to her mouth, just a hair's breadth away.

You're mine now. They both were thinking the same thing, as they always had.

------

Thanks, anon, now I had to reveal a part of the fic I'm working on. Please send to your friends! I have been told before that any kind of publicity is good publicity. <3

[theyreonlynoodlesmike]

ok but what if: tommy angst where reader is the one possessed?? like they are dating and tommy has to kill them(or they kill him idk) and it's just. The Big Sad™️ I think it would be a good opportunity to write in his pov and maybe headcanon some things that go on in his life (cause obvi he got shit goin on since he a shadysider)

also: so glad to see you are back and I hope school is going good! I manifest good grades & positive vibes for you💓

"Hi! Do you mind doing a request about Tommy slater and reader where the reader and Tommy are together, and they both go with Alice and Arnie and finds readers name on the wall. Plz and thank you!" -anon

Thank you so much btw!!! Hope you enjoy!!

Carved in Stone (Tommy Slater x Possessed!Reader)

Warnings: character death, angst, blood mention, blood description, violence/gore, some sad shit supreme, light headcanons about Tommy's life, acceptance of death

Word Count: 1.3k

One way or another, you’re going to die tonight.

That’s what Nurse Lane had said before she came at you with a knife. It was one of the things that kept swirling in your mind, one of the whispered voices. Just those words were creepy enough, and it was no wonder they kept sticking in your mind. You thought maybe it was because you’d hit your head that the other voices came, that maybe you should’ve taken up the officers offer to go to the hospital. But, ending up in the same psych ward they were probably sending Nurse Lane? No, thank you. So, you’d decided to stay at camp. And, now, you were being dragged through the woods by your friends and your boyfriend. Yeah, perfect.

You swatted at the fly buzzing around you as you found a place to sit in the creepy hole Alice had found. Your head hurt, and you rubbed at your forehead absently before you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“You okay?” Tommy asked, and you gave him a nod. You attempted a smile, but you were sure it came off as more of a grimace. Even in the dark, you could see the worry in Tommy’s eyes as he said, “We can head back-” But you waved your hand, shook your head.

“No, no- I’m just gonna sit for a bit.” You told him, and both of your heads turned when you heard Alice and Arnie let out an excited sound. It seemed like they’d found something. “Go ahead.” You told him and waved him towards the hole in the wall, and Tommy, your sweet Tommy, hesitated for a moment before he gave you a nod and went to follow them into the room they found.

You watched his retreating figure, before you slapped your arm, killing the fly that landed on it.

***

"Alice, this- this isn't funny. They're gonna freak if they see this." Tommy said, exasperation edging his tone. As much as he wanted to come down here and find the witch, he wasn't trying to get in trouble with you.

You already weren't having a good time. You'd hit your head when Nurse Lane had attacked you, and you seemed to barely be trudging along with them. Arnie had even gone to check on you. But, you were being a good sport and Tommy didn't want to reward that with your name carved in some creepy wall.

"Uh, dumbass, do you think I carved their name into solid stone with my fingernails?" She asked, and Tommy furrowed his brow at her, then looked at the name. If Alice hadn't written your name then...

Tommy stared at you as you turned around. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. He'd called your name, watched you approach one of your friends with a- He could barely even process it as he yelled when you swung. You'd just- you'd just axed Arnie in the face.

And your face was covered in his blood as your eyes met his. They were cold and hard, not a thing like the looks you gave him. You looked like you, but this- This wasn't you. Alice was already screaming besides him, and Tommy could hear himself screaming,

"Fuck! Go, go, go," It was a blur as he moved, but he was pushing Alice back into the room they found. The only thing he could think to do was get him and Alice as far away from you as possible.

They climbed through the hole, and they looked around. They were trapped. It was stone all around, with only a little bookshelf, an altar, next to one of the walls.

"What do we do?" Alice screamed, and Tommy looked to her. His first instinct had been to run, but now? He glanced back to the hole, to where you were ducking into the room. There was only one option as to what they needed to do, even if Tommy didn't want to do it.

"Babe, it's me." He started. He didn't know where he was going, what he was going to say. He tried to hold out his hands, to calm you down, but he watched how your grip changed. "It's me!" He yelled.

His memory flashed back for a moment, to all his baseball practices. To the times where you came to his games, to when he took you to the batting cages and showed you how to properly hold a bat. How to properly swing. He remembered the feeling of the hot sun on the back of his neck, the feeling of a ball in his hand. Winding up to send the pitch, and you- You getting ready to swing.

He pushed himself forward and grabbed the handle before you could finish winding up. Tommy pushed you back, knocking you back against the stone of the wall. He pushed you hard, using as much strength as he could manage. It was a split second thing, his own need for survival overshadowing any of his other concerns. They heard your head hit the stone of the wall, a sickening crack that tore right through whatever haze of adrenaline had consumed him.

It tore through him and sank in the pit of his stomach like a rock. He watched your eyes, the blankness in them, fade away. He watched you stumble, lose your grip for a moment, before you said,

"Tommy?" And then your knees buckled.

He caught you, and you were dead-weight in his arms. He reached to support the back of your head, and pulled it away when he felt something hot and wet. His hand glistened with your blood, and panic surged through him. His grip changed as you fell against him, and he sunk to his knees as he cradled you.

"No, no, no," He started, watching how your mouth fell open, how far off you looked. "Hey, hey! It's me, just focus on me. We're gonna- We're gonna get you some help-" Tommy hiccuped. He didn't want to cry. He didn't want his emotions to get the best of him. He'd just- He'd just been trying to stop you. He hadn't meant to push you that hard.

You were the best thing he had. His life was never-ending stress, a constant push towards neverending goals. College, jobs, whatever. The only good thing out of all of that was that, maybe, he'd get to start his family with you. That you'd be there with him. He didn't care if that was in Shadyside or any other town. As long as you were with him he thought, maybe, it'd be fine. Maybe it'd be worth all the work.

But, he watched as you looked up at him, an almost empty sort of smile crossing your face for a moment.

Distantly, you thought about what Nurse Lane said. One way or another, you're going to die tonight. You felt as if your head had been submerged underwater, like Tommy had pulled you up for you to catch a breath. You knew what you'd done, what the fog washing over you was trying to get you to do. And, you didn't want to.

If it had to end, you wanted it to end like this. So, you didn't fight. You didn't hold on. You looked up at Tommy, even as tears streamed down his face. You wanted to comfort him, but you couldn't bring yourself back to the surface. If you were going to drown whatever was inside of you, you had to drown with it.

Tommy watched as you fell unconscious, and, even as he carried you back and got you help, part of him knew- part of him knew that you weren't going to make it. It was a sinking feeling in his chest, heavy and solid. Like he'd swallowed stones, only for them to sit in his stomach. Your fate was like your name- carved in stone.

[reidgraygubler]

trouble (matthew gray gubler/fem!reader)

Title: trouble

Request: requested by anon

Couple: matthew gray gubler/fem!reader

Category: smut (*gasp* i know...) w/ a side of fluff

Content Warning: sexual content (penetrative sex, unprotected sex (be safe buddies), fingering, car sex, choking kink, daddy kink (But as a joke), masturbation, slight edging (i guess that’s what it’s called)), kinda sub!reader, kinda dom!mgg, swearing, sexual innuendos, teasing, pissed off matthew

Word Count: 4369

Summary: Reader and Matthew are going out to a dinner party with the cast of Criminal Minds. After some suggestive comments and innuendos and actions (done by reader). Matthew teaches Reader a lesson in the back seat of his station wagon.

A/N: in celebration of hitting 200 followers, i decided to pus my first smut here :) although it was a request and i was going to post it either way. this was the request i got and when i saw it i got more than excited and my mind ran wild with it! matthew 10/10 calls his partner princess in this one-shot. it’s a little bit rougher than i was expecting, but i kinda lost track of my thoughts and just went for it. thank you so much to that anon that sent this in! if you have a request or an idea, send it in! and check out my masterlist!

6/1/2021 Edit: I no longer write rpf smut. this was written before I made that change. 

~*~*~ THIS DOES CONTAIN 18+ CONTENT! ~*~*~

{***}{***}{***}

Oh boy, it was just one of those days… I could just feel it in my body that I was going to be an asshole today and nothing anyone could do could stop me from that. My sassy mood would be the one thing that gets me in trouble today, and I think I’m honestly okay with that.

I walked into the bedroom, wearing nothing but my undergarments (which consisted of my personal favorite black/mint lingerie), and tan stockings. Matthew was sitting on the edge of the bed, tying his shoes. I walked over to the closet, right past him. We should and are getting ready for a dinner party with his friends from Criminal Minds. Should being the key-word there. I loved messing with him like that.

“Woah,” he spoke ever so softly. I stayed facing the closet, but a smile grew on my lips. I gently swayed my hips as I went through the dresses I had hanging. He was staring, I knew he had to be staring. I pulled one dress out, not really thinking it’d be the one. 

“What should I wear,” I asked out to the room. The sounds of his shoes hitting the wood flooring was the answer I got instead of his voice. I pouted as I dropped my head to my shoulder, my hair hitting my arm. I jumped as his icy cold hands and arms wrapped around my middle. His face was pressed into my neck. He exhaled deeply before kissing the base of my throat. I smiled as he swayed with my movements.

“I think you should go like this. Show you off to all my friends,” Matthew hummed as he dragged his hands to the front of my hips. My hands stopped on two separate dresses and clenched the fabric in my fingers. “I think they’d enjoy that… I know I would,” he added, his thumbs playing with the lacy edges of my panties. I took a deep breath and stepped back, so I was flush against his body. 

“Matthew, obviously I can’t just go in my underwear.” I scoffed as he pushed me so there was a small space between us. I sighed deeply as he stepped away from me. “I’ll figure it out,” I rolled my eyes as he retreated to the bed. I filed through my dresses again before pulling out a black cocktail dress that I knew would drive Matthew crazy during the night. I dashed off to the bathroom to finish getting ready. “Zip me up?” I asked as I stepped back into the bedroom and stood behind Matthew. Shuffling came from behind me before he zipped my dress up.

“Ready to go?” he whispered. His breath hit the shell of my ear, causing me to swallow roughly. 

“Almost. Let me get my things together and I should be ready,” I sighed deeply. It’s going to be one of those nights, I just know it. Matthew pressed his lips to my cheek before walking away from me, again.

And that was my cue. I was quick. I’ve never been so fast to get ready for an event. He was probably getting out into the car as we speak. I grabbed a tube of lip gloss from the bathroom and tossed it into my bag before slipping a pair of plain black heels on. And then, I left the house.

And, as per my guess, Matthew was already sitting in his station wagon, waiting for me. I shuffled to the passenger’s side of the car and pulled the door open.

I looked over at Matthew as I slipped into the car. He was looking at himself in the mirror of the visor. I swallowed roughly as my eyes trailed from his perfectly sculpted face (lingering for a moment on his lips), down to his neck (where I would love to leave love bites), down his chest (and even though he was wearing a suit, I wanted to push off his dress shirt), and finally, down to his lap (a lap I would just love to sit on). And he was just there… Sitting there, doing his thing like I wasn’t imagining wanting to rip his clothes off to have sex with him right now. 

He dropped his hands from his face and rested them on his legs. I stared for a moment at his hands and their placement on his legs. I could feel my heart pick up and my head getting mildly dizzy. I took a deep breath and shook my head as I looked up at his face.

“Mm, now that’s a lap I could sit on,” I grinned at Matthew as I buckled my seatbelt in. The thought of grinding my ass into his crotch made me giggle lightly as I stared at him.

Matthew gawked as he looked over at me, his hands resting low on the steering wheel. I smiled as I folded my hands over my lap. I could feel Matthew’s eyes still on me as I looked out the window. 

“What did you just say?” he asked as he slowly started the car. I hummed before looking over at him. He was still staring at me with a dumbfounded expression on his face.

“Hm? Oh! I said are you ready? I can’t wait to see Kirsten and AJ.” I smiled as I looked at him. He raised an eyebrow, but his expression was now amused instead of shocked. At least he’s amused now… 

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure that’s exactly what you said, Princess,” Matthew glanced at me as he started his car and pulled out of the driveway. I couldn’t tell if he actually meant to call me that pet name, or if he was just teasing. Either way, he knows it gets me going. 

“And, Aisha! Oh! I miss her!” I clapped my hands together. Matthew seemed to enjoy my excitement at seeing his friends and co-workers. It’s been a while since the wrap party for the show, so it’s been a while since either of us had seen them. “I still owe her $10 for that prank she helped me play when I visited the set that one day,” I grinned at Matthew.

“Yeah, sure, because stealing and hiding my fruit roll-ups is a prank,” he rolled his eyes as he glanced at me. I smiled and nodded. “Finding them a month later though was quite a pleasant surprise. I will admit that,” he laughed lightly.

“Listen, Matthew, you were the one who invited me to set. It’s not my fault I got bored while you were filming. Someone had to keep me entertained. I’m sorry it was Aisha who took that job. We had fun that day,” I laughed as I turned to face him. I crossed my legs as I looked at him.  I pulled my purse off my body and put it in the backseat, accidentally hitting Matthew in the face. “I’m so sorry.” I looked at him with wide eyes. He looked at me with a playful irritation on his face.

“Accidents happen, just don’t let it happen again,” he glanced at me. I smiled and nodded. 

  “Won’t let it happen again,” I looked out the windshield.

The drive to the restaurant was in a comfortable, yet somehow tense, silent. I couldn’t help myself when it came to making a comment or innuendo of some sort. Matthew didn’t seem too crazy bothered by it, if anything it looked like he enjoyed it. Of course, I knew I needed to stop before we went in. So, I stayed silent when he pulled into a parking spot. 

“You ready?” Matthew asked as he pushed the visor down. I reached back for my purse and pulled it in the front. I “accidentally” hit Matthew in the back of the head with my bag as I pulled it onto my lap. Oh, no, the first time was definitely an accident. The second time was 100% on purpose. No accident this time.

He dropped his shoulders and looked over at me, annoyance on his face. I looked down at my lap and bit my lips to refrain from smiling. Oh boy, I wonder what he’s going to do. Surely he won’t yell at me.

“Choke me, daddy,” I very jokingly teased as I looked at Matthew. He looked at me with shock on his face. I smirked as I began digging around in my purse for lip gloss. When I looked back up, Matthew threw his hand over my neck and pushed my head against the headrest. I widened my eyes and looked at him. I was relieved that he was just holding his hand there, not applying any pressure. But part of me really wanted him to do it. “I was joking,” I stated in a tone that said I wasn’t sure of myself. 

“I’m not so sure you were… Princess,” Matthew smiled at me before removing his hand and turning back to the visor. I pouted at the lack of his touch and looked at him. I moved closer to him and looked up at his face. “Can I help you,” he looked away from the tiny visor mirror and down at me. I smiled and nodded before puckering my lips. 

“Please,” I whispered and batted my eyelashes at him. He laughed before kissing my lips lightly. I pouted as I turned back in my seat. I glanced at Matthew and noticed that he was still fixing his mess of hair in the mirror. I turned back to face him, grabbing his hand again. He glanced at me for a moment before looking back at his reflection. I slowly brought his hand back to my throat and looked at him.

I swallowed roughly as I stared at him, keeping his hand on my throat. Matthew just continued to mess around with his hair. “Are you busy with my hand,” he asked looking at me. I pouted and pushed his hand away from me. 

“No, I’m not,” I muttered before looking down at my phone. I looked at Matthew and pouted. “But I’d like to be,” I glared at him as I placed my hand high on my bare thigh. 

“Hold on, what do you think you’re doing,” Matthew asked as his hand shot out to grasp my wrist. I smirked and looked over at him, pushing his hand off mine. 

“Well, I wanna have fun before we go in and you won’t have fun with me. So, I’m gonna do it myself. Unless you want to change your mind,” I snipped back as I brought my hand to my panties. I honestly should’ve just forgone the underwear tonight. I don’t know why I didn’t. I could feel through the thin fabric that I was wet. He didn’t even do a damn thing to get me as wet as I am. But here I am, nearly sitting in a puddle. I suppose he just has that effect on me.

I looked at Matthew as I slid my hand into my panties and pressed a finger into my center, collecting some wetness on my finger. I gasped and lightly closed my eyes. I slowly moved my finger around my clit as I looked back at Matthew. He was silently watching me for a minute. The way he looked at me told me he was pissed. I've never seen him so mad before. I let out a soft moan as I pressed my head into the headrest.

“Matthew,” I whimpered as I looked at him. He shifted slightly in his seat as he looked back at me. I slowly circled my finger around my clit as I locked eyes with him. My breathing grew labored as I brought my free hand to my breast, kneading it over my shirt and bra. Just as I started to pick up speed, Matthew’s hand grasped my wrist and stilled my movements. I looked at him, alarmed and frustrated. He seriously did not just do that.  

“Get in the backseat, we’ll have to be quick,” he muttered as he yanked my hand from my panties. I looked at him with wide eyes. He was looking at my wet finger before putting it in his mouth. I took a deep breath, feeling more overwhelmed by the second. “Go on,” he half-ordered as he nodded to the back seat. “Don’t make me say it again,” he muttered when I stayed frozen in my seat. I nodded before getting out of the front seat and trying to move fast to the back. 

I sat in the middle of the bench seat and shimmied out of my panties. Matthew was quick to sit beside me in the backseat. He didn’t even give me time to understand what was about to happen. That’s okay, I just know I’ll get what I want.  

He gently pushed me so I was lying across the bench and he hovered over me and in between my legs. One of his knees stayed between my legs, making it so I couldn’t press them together for any sort of pleasure. Part of me hated it when he was like this, but another part loved it. He knew that too. 

“You are being such a bad girl,” he whispered, bringing his hand back to my throat. I gasped and pressed my head into the seat. I looked up at him and nodded, telling him it was more than okay to do this. He gently and carefully put pressure into his grip as he stared down at me. I struggled slightly to breathe as I locked eyes with him again. “Touching yourself in the parking lot before we go into a dinner party… With my friends nonetheless,” he kept his voice low. Matthew brought his other hand down between my legs, resting it at the top of my thighs.

“I’m sorry,” I struggled to speak as I threw a hand over his one on my neck. He cocked his head slightly as he stared at me. 

“You’re sorry, Princess?” he questioned, slowly moving his hand closer to my center. My eyes rolled into the back of my head as he moved my panties to the side. I tried to swallow roughly and nodded. “Sorry just isn’t going to do it,” he spoke, causing me to open my eyes. 

 I tapped my fingers on the back of his hand, silently telling him that I really needed air. His eyes flashed slightly with concern as he removed his hand. I took a deep breath like it was my first time breathing. It was like fire in my lungs as I inhaled and felt like I was mildly high as I exhaled.

“I won’t do it again,” I whispered as I looked up at him. We both knew that I was clearly lying when I said that. Any chance I get to act like this, I’ll do it. A small smile twitched on his lips as he inserted a finger into my center. I gasped and closed my eyes as he pumped his finger in and out of me. 

“I don’t believe you,” he whispered, pushing his hand into my hair. I stared at him, shock on my face. “You know you’ll have to be punished for that. Right, Princess,” he asked as he rubbed my clit with his thumb.  I whimpered and bit my lips together before nodding. “Mm-hmm, use your words,” his words were low. I swallowed roughly and stared at him.

“Yes, yes, I know. I know,” I spoke fast like if I didn’t speak fast enough I wouldn’t have words to say. I brought my hands to his belt buckle, going to undo his belt. I yelped when he grabbed both my hands with his one free hand. He held my hands above my head and smiled down at me.

“I’m in charge here, Princess, you know that,” Matthew moved his thumb faster. I wiggled and nodded. He leaned down close to my ear before whispering, “You don’t get to come till I tell you you can. Okay?” his tone was mildly teasing. His breath hit the shell of my ear, causing me to shiver slightly. I took a deep and shaky breath as I stared at him, a certain excitement setting in my belly. I was okay with it, honestly. 

“Matthew,” I whined as I inadvertently bucked my hips to his hand. He pulled his hand away from my center, causing me to whine loudly. I stared at him in protest. “Yes, I understand,” I cried as I stared at him. He smiled before sticking his fingers between my lips. I sucked them clean, free of my arousal, as I stared at him. He smiled at me before pulling his fingers from my mouth and placing his hand on my jawline. 

“Good girl,” he whispered. But the way he said it told me I wasn’t really a good girl. No, I knew I wasn’t a good girl. However, I was getting what I wanted, so who’s really winning and in charge? I just needed to be like this more often.

Matthew removed his hand from my face and down to his belt. Somehow, he managed to get his belt buckle undone with one hand, and managed to undo his pants. I looked down as he pulled himself out of his pants and boxers. I whined and tried to pull my hands. My hips ground into the seat beneath me to get some sort of pleasure. 

“Wanna touch you,” I cried as I pulled my hands from his grip. He laughed as his grip on my wrists got a little tighter. “Please,” I whined looking between his face and down at his length. “Matthew, please,” 

“You should have thought of that before that stunt you pulled,” he whispered before stroking himself a few times. I let out a loud whine and wiggled in my spot. He groaned slowly before lining himself up to my entrance.

 I’ve never wanted to touch this man so badly in my entire life. I wanted to run my hands in his hair, tugging at the hair on the back of his head. I wanted to drag my hands all over his chest, leaving red scratchy marks in their wake. And I wanted to wrap my fingers and hands around his cock. He is killing me right now. 

The head of his cock was pressed against me, causing me to inhale deeply. He smiled before slowly entering me. I struggled to stay still and quiet as he slowly bottomed out. I swallowed roughly as my breathing became ragged. 

“Oh, Princess,” Matthew mocked as he looked down at me as he slowly started moving his hips. I whimpered as I continuously tried to pull my hands from his grip. A smile twitched on his lips again, further frustrating me. Bastard knows how to mess with me and I hated it more than anything in the world. 

Matthew slowly, and carefully, picked up the pace of his hips. The way he brought his lips to mine made me feel dizzy. He knew how to kiss, with lips like his? Of course, he knew how to kiss. He carefully bit my lower lip before kissing his way down my jaw and to my neck. He left a small love bite on the nape of my neck, making it difficult to breathe. This level of excitement would kill me.

“Fuck,” I cried, throwing my head to the side. Matthew laughed and shook his head. A moan so loud, I swear it came from the pit of my stomach, came from my lips. He laughed again as he looked down at me

"You need to be a little quieter," he whispered into my ear. He clamped a hand over my mouth and nose to silence me. I whimpered against his hand and nodded. 

He has to know how close I’m getting. I was about to be in more trouble than I already am. He keeps playing me the way he is. If he did anything else, I would be screwed. No, no wait. I already am screwed, or being screwed. 

“You getting close,” he grunted. I sighed and nodded, trying to hold back a moan. His face twitched as he smiled at me. I closed my eyes, not wanting to look too long at him. I knew if I kept my eyes on him I’d break. I can’t break now. He’s right though, I am getting close. 

I nodded, as if my answer would give me what I wanted. He smiled before pressing his lips to mine in a rough way. When he finally pulled his hand from my wrists, I pushed my hands through his hair and kept them firmly placed on the back of his head. He groaned as I tugged lightly on his hair.

“Mmm,” I looked up at him as he pulled his head away from me. I bit my lips together and nodded. I wrapped my legs around his waist to pull him closer to me. My heels dug into his lower back as I gripped his tie with one hand. 

Matthew hooked his arm under one of my knees and lifted my leg slightly to get a better angle. I cried when a burn started to grow in my hamstring, but also when he pressed deeper into me. I closed my eyes and pressed my head into the seat. I could feel myself getting closer. Maybe he forgot what he said?

And then he stopped his movements. I opened my eyes and looked up at him, feeling anger grow suddenly on my face. Matthew was looking down at me with a smile on his lips. Although, I knew it must’ve been hard for him to stop. He was just happy to see me suffer. 

“I hate you. Please, please,” I pulled on his tie to bring him closer to my face. Matthew smiled at me before pressing his lips to mine. I whined against his lips. He laughed before slowly moving his hips again. “I’m so close,” I managed to get out through pants. 

“Yeah,” he asked the obvious. I screwed my eyes shut and nodded. I’m sure if I had it in me, I would have been more than sarcastic. But I couldn’t even begin to try. I’m sure he would keep teasing me if I was sarcastic, so my best bet was to either stay quiet or let out a grotesque sound. I went with the latter. That seemed to please Matthew. 

“Promise you won’t do that again,” he brought his hand to push my hair away from my face, before resting it on my cheek. I swallowed roughly and nodded. “Uh, use your words, Princess,” 

“I… I promise…” I spoke, my voice was soft and shaky. I pressed both my hands flat on his chest as I looked up at him. He smiled softly and nodded.

“Come on, come for me,” he whispered, keeping his hips moving at a steady pace. After a moment, I felt my body snap and tighten around him. I threw my arms back around his neck as I buried my face into his body. I shouted his name when I reached my high. My body arched up into his, and he held me close.

Matthew’s movements faltered slightly and a groan fell from his lips. I could feel him release inside me as he rode out his orgasm. Oh, that bastard. 

He gently rested me back down on the seat. I looked up at him and laughed, bringing my hands to rest on his cheeks. He looked down at me, smiled before laughing.

“I don’t know what’s so funny,” he mused as he moved away from me and sat at the way opposite end of the seat. I stayed lying down, watching as he tucked himself back in his pants.

“I didn’t know you could do that,” I smiled at him, watching as he went to the front seat. He moved a few things around before coming back to me with a handful of napkins and a pack of wet wipes. “I think I might have to break my promise and do that again,” I laughed at him again. 

“Well, now we’re late, so I hope you’re happy,” he mumbled as he cleaned between my legs. I flinched at the coolness of the wipes. When he finished cleaning me up, as best he could, he grasped my hands and pulled me so I was sitting up. I looked at him and smiled. 

“Yeah, I got my fun,” I kissed his lips. I reached upfront for my bag and pushed Matthew out of the car. I quickly fixed my hair in the reflection of the window before following close behind him. 

Of course, when we entered the restaurant, loud chatter came from the far side. Everything told me that it was Matthew’s friends doing all the talking. 

“There he is!” A familiar and friendly voice shouted as we got closer to the table. I stood beside Matthew and smiled at him. “With his lovely girlfriend,” 

“Kirsten! It’s great to see you,” I smiled at her when I saw who was talking. I walked around to embrace her. Shemar whispered something to Adam before looking over at Matthew, then at me, and then back at me.

"So sorry we're late," Matthew spoke as he pulled a chair out for me. I glanced at him before sitting. He sat beside me and smiled. "I forgot something at home and had to turn back to get it. And then the traffic here was awful." The lie he told was so easy. I'm impressed he told it so easily. 

"And I needed to change. There was a stain on the front of my dress." I looked down at my dress that I’ve been in since we left the house. I did not change... 

“You’re both walking like you just had sex,” Shemar looked between Matthew and I. I looked up at Matthew before looking at the table. I could feel my cheeks warm up. “You didn’t,”

“Yeah, we… we just had sex.” I muttered.

taglist: @boiled-onionrings​ @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto​ @spencer-reid-enthusiast​

[elvish-sky]

Look Back {Thorin x Reader}

A.N: A thousand thanks to @guardianofrivendell , who kinda kickstarted this entire fic with their great idea (everyone go check out their work, it’s incredible!). Quick note on character ages- after the five years later bit Sigrid is 20, Otto is 3, and Kieran of course is relative to your age. I honestly really enjoyed writing this, even the parts where it made me cry (a good emotional outlet. Send me more angsty requests!) so I really hope it’s what you wanted, Anon! 

Requested by Anon on Tumblr: Thanks for answering my ask about angst! No worries if it'll take a while, so long as you're healthy and not stressing out about it, I will wait cuz your writing is soo worth it)I was wondering if I could request an either thorin x reader(f!human) or kili x Reader(f!human) where the reader is dumped by them and she moves on (like ends up with an elf or another dwarf) and lives a happy life, and thorin or kili regrets having left them and tries to get them back but sees that they lost their One cuz of their mistake and regrets it? (Is that too angsty?? I'm so sorry if it is!)

Word Count: 4,576. The longest thing I’ve ever written is an angst fic. Huh. 

Summary: Thorin doesn’t want to push back against the council when they say you cannot be married.

Pairings: Thorin x Reader, OC (I have those now. Huh.) x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Regret, End of Relationship, Sadness, Fluff

Director’s Commentary

****

Look Back

“It is the will of the council that, since Y/N is not a dwarf, the two of you shall not be married, and cannot be together.” 

Your head jerked up. You had been expecting pushback, but not a flat-out refusal. Turning your head to look at Thorin, you saw him bow his head in defeat.

“Very well. If it is the will of the council.” 

The words hit you in the chest like an arrow. You thought he would fight for you, but no. You weren’t worth it. You rose and left without another word, slipping between the doors as the council watched you go. Balin sighed from his seat midway down the stone table, shaking his head in disappointment at the whole room. 

Arriving at your rooms, the ones right next to Thorin’s that you had been so proud of, you started shoving your belongings into a sack, leaving anything that had been given to you by your former love out. You didn’t want any reminders of him, even to see him ever again. 

Sadly, your wish to not see him didn’t work, as shown very quickly. Barely three minutes after you had entered your rooms, he came bursting through the carved double doors. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N, but I can’t disobey the council.”

You scoffed, grabbing your few tunics and folding them into the bag. 

He continued, “You can stay, we can ask again in a few months, give them more time to warm up to the idea.”

“No. If I’m not worth fighting for now, how do I know I’ll be worth it then?”

You were drawing the string closed on your meager bag of belongings. It was rather sad to think how little you actually owned, versus what had been gifted to you by your former betrothed.

“I’m not going to risk my heart like this, Thorin. I can see that I never actually mattered.”

“Y/N-” 

You cut him off.

“You’ve broken promises before, but I never thought you’d break this one, Thorin Oakenshield.” 

You had been undoing your courting braid as you spoke, and now flung the bead at him. It fell into his hand, and you didn’t even spare a moment for the pain in his eyes as you slammed the door behind you, leaving a king with everything feeling as if he had just lost the one thing that really mattered. 

You arrived at the gates to Erebor to see something rather unexpected. The entire company was gathered there, and you stopped in front of them. They were all gazing at you with unshed tears in their eyes, and looking at them you couldn’t believe how far you all had come from that ragged company running for their lives. It made you sad to think about leaving, when the reminders of what you were giving up were all right there.

“I’m sorry about the council, lass.” Balin was the first to speak. “I tried to sway them, but it just couldn’t be done. I’ll keep trying.” 

You mustered a small smile for the old dwarf. “Thank you, Balin, but you don’t have to keep beating a dead horse. We both know nothing will come of it.” 

Each member of the company stepped forward and said goodbye, hugging you before moving back to the group. Dwalin settled for briefly squeezing you, before stepping back with a muttered, “I’ll miss yeh, lass.” You saw him surreptitiously wipe a tear from his cheek, and giggled a little.

Nori slipped a few coins into your pocket, as well as a set of lock picks. “You never know when they’ll come in handy.” 

Dori was crying as he pressed several bags of tea leaves into your hand. You sniffed them, recognizing the scent of your favorite kind.

Ori was also teary as he quickly wrapped a knitted scarf around your neck. “It gets cold out there,” were his parting words before he retreated to stand next to  Dori.

You let out a small laugh as Gloin handed you an ax. “I already have my sword!”

“Yes, lassie, but everyone knows axes are better.” There were gasps of outrage, but you were glad that the dwarf had lightened the mood, even just a little. Besides, the axe truly was gorgeous. A lovely specimen of dwarven craftsmanship, with a beautifully carved handle. 

“Is that a dragon?” Gloin nodded, and you marveled at the intricacies. 

Bifur approached next, pressing a carving into your hand. You looked at the figure. “That’s me!” He nodded, and you gazed at the detail he had worked in, even the etchings on your sword were visible in the wood. 

Bombur handed you a satchel, and you opened it. You gave the dwarf a big hug as you saw the honey-scones packing it to the brim. “My favorite.” 

“The recipe is in there too.” You couldn”t resist giving him a second hug of thanks.

Bofur came forward after his brother. “I’d sing you something, but I’m not sure I can do it without crying.” You straightened his hat, which had been set askew by your hug, as he stepped back. 

Fili and Kili were last. Fili approached you slowly, but Kili shoved him out of the way and crashed into you. Burying his face in your coat, he whispered, “I really wanted to get to call you Auntie.” 

You choked back tears, wrapping your arms around him as his brother joined the hug. 

“You’ll write to us?” Fili looked as if he was trying not to cry as well, while Kili had given up and had tears visibly streaming down his cheeks. 

“I will.” You broke away with difficulty and gave the group one last look. “Thank you all, so much.” They nodded, and you turned and walked out of the gates, leaving your old love behind. 

Thorin watched from the ramparts high above as you left. He knew he had made the right choice for his kingdom, but it hurt. The expression on your face was slowly killing him, and he knew whatever his doubts had been that you had truly loved him. He had loved you too, but he thought he loved his kingdom more. Nevertheless, he found himself hoping that you would turn around, come back, even though he knew he would have to turn you away. 

You didn’t turn around. 

You didn’t even look back.

*Five Years Later*

You shouldered the door open, arms full of papers. “I’m home!” 

“Mama!” A small shape barreled into you and you barely managed to hold onto the papers, handing them to your husband before scooping the three-year-old up.

“Otto! How was your day?” You pressed a kiss to Otto’s forehead before pecking Kieran on the cheek as you brushed by him into the sitting room. There was a fire going, smoke drifting up the chimney and you stood near it, warming hands chilled by the brisk fall air. 

“Good! Look what I made!” Otto wiggled out of your grasp and trotted over to the table, where after lots of jumping he finally managed to catch hold of something. He placed it in your lap, and you weren’t sure whether to be mad or touched. You settled for shooting a glare at Kieran before oohing and ahhing over the crudely carved figure.

“It’s you, Mommy! Like the one on the table!” 

Examining it closer, you could see something that looked like a sword. It was nowhere near the skill of Bifur’s carving that you still treasured, but it was very sweet nonetheless. 

“Wonderful job, darling.” 

“Are we going to the market today?” Otto looked up at you with pleading eyes.

“Why?” You shot a suspicious glance at Kieran, who assumed a very innocent expression.

“Because Da said that if we went to the market and got ingredients you would make the honey scones!”

“He did, did he?” 

Kieran looked guilty as you frowned at him.

“Don’t worry. Let’s put our boots on and head out!”

Otto jumped with excitement and ran to grab his boots. 

You crossed your arms and glared at your husband. “I cannot believe you let him use a knife.”

“He’s three! He’s old enough. Besides, I was watching him the whole time.”

“That doesn’t make it any better!” You threw your hands up in exasperation before kissing him. 

“But don’t worry, I still love you.”

“I love you too.” Kieran drew you in for a deeper kiss, and you responded enthusiastically.

“Let’s go!!” Your moment was interrupted by Otto, practically bouncing with excitement by the door. You laughed at him and wrapped your scarf, still holding up five years later, around your neck. Linking arms with Kieran, you giggled as Otto tugged on his hat from his perch on his father’s shoulders, and walked out the door. 

The streets of Dale were bustling, people going to the market, or the King’s house just down your street. 

Having been a hero of the Battle of the Five Armies, and one of two members of the company who had seen reason (the other being Bilbo, of course), you had a close friendship with King Bard. When you had marched into Dale after leaving Erebor, eyes still swollen with tears, he and his children had taken care of you, and it was because of him that you had met Kieran. 

Two months after leaving Erebor, you had been helping Bard train recruits for Dale’s army. Most of the men disliked being trained by a girl, but one had taken your advice and training exactly as he would a man’s. He had grown skilled, and after striking up a friendship had asked to court you. You had said yes, even though you weren’t over Thorin, but had quickly fallen head over heels in love. Kieran was perfect. He respected your fighting skills and didn’t mind your closeness to the king. He was sweet, kind, funny, and in his eyes every was perfect until proven otherwise. He always saw the best in people, never the worst. In other words, he was everything Thorin hadn’t been, and more. 

The two of you were married in a ceremony officiated by the King Bard six months after he had asked to court you, a year after leaving Erebor. Fili, Kili, and Balin had attended the ceremony, sneaking away from their royal duties for a day on the pretense of a diplomatic mission. You had kept your promise to write, and although the news of you finding someone else was hard for the two princes, they were happy your heart had started to heal. You had gotten pregnant two months later, news which was received with joy from everyone who heard. Upon reading your letter announcing the news that Fili decided to show him in the middle of a council meeting (later recognized as an extremely bad decision), Kili had let out a whoop of joy, looking guilty when everyone looked at him and promptly throwing the letter into the fire. You had laughed uproariously upon hearing this story from Fili the next time he made it to Dale. The day that Otto was born, your heart healed more. You still remembered the pain you had felt leaving Erebor, of feeling like you did not matter, but it was better now. You had been able to keep in touch with most of the company, all who had been to visit at some point after his birth. You didn’t know if Thorin knew you had moved on or had a child, but you were getting to the point where you could forgive him, just a little, for the past. 

Swinging your hand entwined with Kieran’s, you made your way through the market, stopping at all your favorite stalls to chat and pick out baking ingredients. Noticing Sigrid, Bard’s eldest daughter, picking up honey, you talked while inspecting the jars. 

“Da’s been taking half a jar to put in his tea, lately. I think he’s craving sugar.”

“More than usual?”

You laughed at Kieran’s comment. “Tell him we’re making honey scones tonight. I’ll bring some up later.”

“He’ll appreciate that, although hopefully, Bain doesn’t eat them all first like he did last time!” 

“I wanna eat all the scones with Bain!” Otto was feeling left out from his perch.

“I’m sure he’ll be pleased to have the company.” Sigrid giggled at him, passing a flower up to him before waving goodbye.

“She’s a good kid.” Kieran looked after her fondly.

“We’re not that much older than she is!” You pointed this out as you brushed flower petals out of his hair, Otto looking sad as his work was undone. 

“Now c’mon. We still need to buy more flour, especially if we’re making scones for Bard!” 

You set off again, laughing with your family as you wound through the market. You were in the middle of the artisanal section when a hush fell, the sea of people parting as something made its way through. You kept moving forward, pushing people aside to see what was happening, until you came face to face with Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain.

“Y/N.” He was the first to acknowledge you, looking as if it pained him to do so.

“Thorin.” There were gasps at your familiarity, but you didn’t care. You promptly turned around, grabbing your husband’s hand and dragging him, a silent Otto clinging to his shoulders, away. 

You didn’t look back this time, either.

“You didn’t tell me she had a child!” 

Thorin was back in Erebor, pacing around his chambers as Balin watched. He had been unable to think properly after seeing you in the market, and Fili and Balin had decided that the best course of action, or at least the one least likely to cause a diplomatic incident, was to reschedule the meeting with Bard and bring him back to the Lonely Mountain.

“You never asked.” Balin had resigned himself to having a hard conversation the minute he saw you in the market, he just didn’t know what exactly that conversation would be like. They had managed to keep the two of you apart for the last five years, but it was bound to happen sometime.

“But...she has a child.” Thorin was devastated. 

He had found out that you had kept in touch with the company six months after you left, coming across Kili reading a letter from you in the library. The fact that Kili was in the library in the first place was suspicious enough, and his doubts had been confirmed when he snuck up behind his nephew and read the letter over his shoulder. 

His gasp of, “She’s courting someone,” had been loud enough to startle half the library. Kili had jumped and tried to hide the parchment, but Thorin had simply crashed down into the chair, head in his hands. 

After taking several deep breaths, all the king said was, “She’s moved on. I have to as well,” before rising and brushing himself off, as if to brush the memories of you away. He had seemed fine, but Fili had heard the muttering coming from his room that night, of loss and grief and mistakes. 

After that, they had been much better at hiding their correspondence. The brothers had only decided to tell him about your life one more time, a year after you left, saying you had been married. He had taken that news well, it seemed, but Kili had heard the broken sobs coming from the king’s chambers late that night. 

“She cannot be happy with that- that man!” Now, Thorin seemed to be taking this news hardest of all.

“She is, lad. We’ve all seen her with them. They’re a family.” Balin was trying to calm him down, but it just wasn’t working.

“But, she’d be happier here. With me!” He was pacing the room now, raking his hands through his hair in greater distress.

“Thorin,” Balin grabbed him, stopping him so that the two were face to face, “you still love her.” 

The king staggered back, falling onto his bed. His head was in his hands again, almost mirroring how he had looked with Kili four years ago. 

“Lad?”

“Leave.” 

The one word was whispered, quieter than Balin had ever heard his king. He left, closing the door and signaling to the guard outside that the king was not to be disturbed.

The next morning, Thorin walked out of his rooms with an air of purpose about him. He was wearing an old cloak, to not be recognized as the king. Fili and Kili still managed to notice the distinct gait of their uncle and stopped him in the halls right near the gate. 

“Where are you going?” Kili looked concerned.

“Balin was right last night. I am still in love with Y/N, so I’m going to bring her back.” 

The identical looks of shock on his nephew’s face would have been hilarious in other circumstances.

“You’re still in love with Y/N?!” 

“Keep up, Kili!” Fili smacked his brother before continuing. 

“Uncle, I hate to say this, but remember how she looked at you yesterday? I don’t think she’ll be happy to see you.” 

Kili nodded at his brother’s words. “Besides, you’re the king. How are you going to convince the council when you failed five years ago?” 

Thorin looked a little surprised at that, as if he hadn’t quite thought that far ahead, but shook it off. “She will be happy to see me this time. I’m going to Dale.”

“Uncle, no!” Kili tried to block his way, but Thorin shoved past him, disappearing quickly.

“Follow him to Dale, I’ll tell Balin and the rest of the company.” Fili brushed his brother off and turned to go back to the royal wing as Kili disappeared after their uncle. 

You were making your way through the twisting streets of Dale, delivering scones to friends as you went. You had stopped at the market to give some to the honey-vendor, who always appreciated them, before turning back the direction you came. You stopped back home to pick up the basket you had made for Bard, walking in on Kieran and Otto stuffing their faces with scones and looking incredibly guilty, before continuing the walk up the hill. You were ushered in by Hakon, as usual (Bard didn’t like keeping servants, he said it made him feel “stuffy,” but a king was afforded certain privileges), and you gave him a grateful smile as he took your heavy scarf to hang up. 

“I have scones!” You entered Bard’s office, plopping the basket on his desk from which he immediately grabbed one. 

“Delicious.” 

You smiled at his praise, laughing as Bain burst through the doorway behind you.

“Did I hear scones?” He quickly dove for the basket, grabbing two.

“One for each hand!” He tried to justify this before shrugging and taking a bite, giving you a thumbs up.  

“I’ve got to go home, make sure Kieran and Otto aren’t in a food coma, but I’m glad you like them!” 

The king and his son nodded at you, waving goodbye as their mouths were still stuffed with a scone.

“And save some for the girls!” You left with that, laughing at their sad faces. 

It was pleasant out, the sort of fall day you looked forward to, so you decided that Kieran and Otto could spare you for a little while, just long enough for you to take a walk on the walls of the city. 

The view of the mountain was gorgeous from here. When you had first left, you had spent hours staring, wondering if you had made a mistake by leaving. Now, you just liked to appreciate the view.

“Want to come back?”     

You jumped, spinning to see Thorin standing behind you. You hadn’t really paused to look at him the day before, but now you noticed he looked different. Not bad, but it didn’t look as if he’d found happiness the way you had.

He stepped forward. “Y/N. I’ve come to ask you to rejoin me in the mountain.”

Your jaw dropped. “What? Do you want me to move in with my family? That seems like a bad idea.”

“No, Y/N,” he took your hand and you were too surprised to remove it from his grasp, “I want you to be my queen.”

You laughed and jerked your hand away. It wasn’t a sound of amusement, no. It sounded empty.

Hollow. 

“We saw how well that went last time.” 

“No, Y/N. This time I mean it. Come to Erebor.”

“I’m happy here, Thorin. I have a husband and a child.”

“Your child can come too, and I’m sure I can do much better for you than that man!”

Your cheeks reddened with anger as you balled up your fists, trying to restrain yourself. “I’m happy here, Thorin! I don’t need you to take me to Erebor when I have everything I could possibly want already!”

He looked as if you had physically hit him.

“Y/N, you deserve more than this, though! The council won’t be any trouble this time.”

“And you think you’re the one who can give me what I deserve?” You laughed again, the hollow sound caught by the wind.

“No, dwarf. I have everything I deserve right here and I’m not going to let you ruin it. This is my happiness, and I will be damned if I let you take that away!”

“Y/N-”

“No. I wasn’t worth fighting for then, I know I won’t be worth it now.”

“But I love you, Y/N.”

“And I loved you, once. But you’re too late.”

He watched as you walked away for the third time, knowing that this was the last.

You didn’t look back.

Kieran knew something was wrong the minute you walked through the door. 

“Otto, say bye-bye to Mama and get ready to go with Sigrid!” He strode over to you and hugged you quickly before pulling away. 

“Sigrid’s going to take Otto for a few hours.” 

“Thank you, Sigrid.” You mustered a smile for her as she tugged her boots back on. 

“Of course! C’mon Otto, Bain’s waiting!” She giggled as the child trotted out of his room, looking squishy and adorable in his winter clothes.

He ran over to you and you bent down and hugged him. 

“I love you, Mama!” 

You kissed his forehead before ushering him to Kieran, who got the same treatment before Otto trotted over to Sigrid and grabbed her hand. 

“Bye Y/N! Bye Kieran!” You lifted a hand in farewell as they left, waiting for the door to close behind them before collapsing into Kieran’s arms.

He immediately started to murmur to you, whispering reassurances in your ear as he guided you to sit next to him. He waited for your sobs to fade before speaking.

“What happened?”

“I went for a- a walk on the walls and I ran into Th- Thorin,” you choked out, voice breaking when you said his name.

You could see Kieran’s face soften in understanding. 

“Did he harm you?”

You shook your head. “He wanted me to marry him. He…” you hesitated as you saw Kieran’s eyes spark with anger, but continued. 

“He said you weren’t good enough for me. I told him you were better than I deserved.”

His eyes lightened again and he pressed a kiss to your cheek. 

“Do you need to talk it out?” That was one of the things you loved about Kieran, he didn’t offer solutions or try to fix all your problems, he just listened. He knew that when you had an issue, you just wanted someone to talk to, not to come up with ideas but just to support you.

You nodded. “I just, I felt so bad for him. And I know I shouldn’t, but he just seems so lonely.”

“Do you want to go back? He’s right, you deserve more than me.” 

Your head snapped up. “No! Kieran, why would you think that? I’m happy here. I have the perfect husband and a wonderful child, and I wouldn’t trade any of that for the world.”

He still looked doubtful. 

“Kieran, he broke my heart five years ago, and yes, I was in love with him then, but you picked up the broken pieces and helped me heal. I’d never leave you.” 

You kissed him on the lips this time, trying to convey just how much he meant to you. “I love you,” you whispered, pulling away. 

“I love you too.” He pulled you back in for another kiss. When you broke apart you lay your head on his chest as he moved to lay down. 

“Let’s take advantage of the extra rest before Otto gets back.”

You laughed at him and felt the rumble of his chest as his breaths deepened, watching him fall asleep. As you faded into unconsciousness, you couldn’t help but think that after all you’d been through, you were so unbelievably lucky to have found Kieran. 

Thorin had never understood what people meant when they called Erebor The Lonely Mountain. Now, walking up to the gates alone, he got it. Something was missing, something that he’d never noticed before but now felt the absence of more keenly than ever. He couldn’t believe that he had failed to win you back. He hadn’t realized just how much he had hurt you five years ago, but the pain in your eyes had made it very clear. 

“I’m sorry, Uncle.” Kili appeared next to him as he walked up to the gates. 

Thorin ignored him, ignored the salutes and waves he got from his subjects as he made a beeline for his rooms, Kili dashing around in his wake to fix the wounded pride of every dwarf he ignored. 

Once Thorin made it to his rooms he locked the door behind him, taking slight delight even through his misery at the thump meaning Kili had crashed into it, before collapsing in his chair. 

He still was in shock. No, not shock, he was devastated. It had never occurred to him that you would be happy in Dale, wouldn’t want to rule a kingdom. He had thought that he wasn’t in love with you for the better part of five years, and once he realized he still was he hadn’t thought you wouldn’t feel the same. 

A knock sounded at the door. “Please let us in, Uncle.”

Thorin sighed and went to undo the bolts. 

Fili and Kili entered, both looking much more subdued than usual. Fili took in how Thorin’s coat was thrown on the floor, his boots tossed haphazardly in each direction and sighed. 

“What do you need?” Despite knowing how Thorin had hurt you, Kili couldn’t help but feel bad for his uncle. He had never seen Thorin like this. He looked broken. 

“I need to be alone.”

His nephews nodded, actually obeying him for once, and slipped out the door. 

Thorin was again left alone with his thoughts. Somehow, he had realized that you had been his One. That was why he had said out to make things better. But he had failed. He had lost his One, the only person who he could ever love didn’t love him back. 

Thorin buried his head in his hands, letting out a broken sob. For the fourth time in his life, he had failed. He was too late. 

Everything tag <3: @entishramblings @itgetsatadhazy @anjhope1 @boyruins

Thorin tag <3: @lathalea

[mymoonagedaydream]

A Loki x reader would be great please. Maybe something where the reader isn’t really an avenger but is somehow really close with one member, so she visits a lot and is kind to Loki but at the same time doesn’t take any of his crap?

The New Guy

Summary: You were just about at the end of your rope with Natasha’s friends- until you met the newest addition to the compound

Pairing: Loki x y/n

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Language, floofy

Author's Note: Thank you for the request anon :) I really enjoyed writing this one 

---

Natasha had invited you for drinks at the compound again. God help you. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy spending time with her, you just really didn’t fit in with her work friends. They were all jacked up super soldiers with no interest in talking about anything other than their work- as soon as they found out you’d never been in a fight and you didn't have any personal firearm preferences, they had very little time for you. 

When you arrived they were all sprawled out on the sofas, looking as intimidating as usual, already half-cut on whatever Thor was handing out. You were offered some but Nat quickly swatted it away, assuring you that one sip would leave you absolutely paralytic. 

The usual conversations happened, about missions and combat and god knows what else, until the party inevitably degenerated into the boys finding excuses to make each other take shots. You eventually managed to retreat to the kitchen, claiming that you were going to grab another drink but really just needing a break from the frat party you'd found yourself in the middle of. 

Opening a beer and flopping against the counter, you rubbed your forehead wearily. In future you were definitely only hanging out with Nat at your place. 

Light footsteps padded into the kitchen. You glanced up to see a man you didn't recognise with pale, almost translucent skin and jet-black hair falling onto his shoulders. He stopped suddenly when he saw you. 

'Hi.' You smiled politely. He stared at you silently for a second, looking a little puzzled. 'Oh I'm y/n, Nat's friend.' 

'Loki. Charmed.' His voice was deep and smooth, sending faint goosebumps down your arm. 

His gaze lingered on you just a beat too long as he passed you to get to the fridge, then scanning his eyes over the contents and making a series of disgusted noises.

Glancing back over to the sofas, you figured that they probably weren’t missing you, so there was really no need to hurry back. Besides, this guy had really piqued your curiosity. 

'Do you work for Stark too?' 

His shoulders tensed up slightly and he gave an exasperated chuckle, before turning round to shoot you a gaze that could cut metal. 

'Do I look like I work for him?'

The words were coated in a confusing mix of amusement and annoyance. You thought it was a pretty reasonable question, since he seemed to be living in the compound, so you weren't about to start backtracking. 

'Honestly, yeah. Kind of.’ He smirked and narrowed his eyes at you. ‘You've got a bit of a vampire thing going on, seems like a niche that Tony hasn't filled yet.'

'I don’t think I like your tone.’

The side of your mouth curled into a mischievous smile, the temptation to keep teasing him almost overwhelming you, but you managed to fight it. 

'Why are you here then? If you don’t mind me asking.'

‘Apparently I can’t be trusted to function without supervision.’ He reached for a glass and filled it with water, adding under his breath ‘at least in prison I was left alone.’

He started heading back towards the door, but you were pretty keen to elongate this interaction as much as possible, cause it was saving you from one of the worst evenings of your life.

'Not joining the party?' 

Just the words left your mouth, a half-empty empty beer can flew across the room and exploded against the wall. Thor bellowed something you didn't quite catch and the other frat boys started hooting like morons. 

Loki moved his gaze slowly from the freshly-stained wall back over to you. 'I'd rather have my limbs torn off by wolves.'

A long, laboured sigh escaped your lips. ‘Me too.’ 

You rubbed your eyes harshly, waiting to hear the sound of his footsteps retreating from the kitchen, but nothing happened. You dropped your hands and felt your stomach flip when you saw him still standing opposite you, giving you a curious smile. 

‘What was your name again?’

‘Y/n.’ You mumbled, his gaze making you a little nervous.

‘Very nice meeting you y/n.’

Your eyes followed him as he walked out of the kitchen. You were too preoccupied with analysing what’d just happened to notice Nat approaching, squinting at you suspiciously.

‘Oh god, I know that face.’ 

Your eyes flicked over to her, feeling yourself blushing slightly. ‘What face?’

‘Jesus y/n, I've been trying to set you up with Steve for weeks and now suddenly you're interested in Thor’s psychopath brother?.’

‘He seemed nice enough.’

She grabbed a beer out of the fridge, not wavering her irritated stare from your face. ‘He destroyed Manhattan and almost killed all of us.’

‘Ah.’ Your heart sunk a little, but thinking more on it, you realised that something really wasn’t adding up. ‘Wait, why the hell is he here then?’

‘Thor says he's changed.’

‘Oh right… well maybe he has.’ You shrugged and gave her a teasing smile. ‘His brother of all people would know.’

‘You're unbelievable.’

She was probably right. 

Then again, you were a big advocate for giving people a second chance. 

Oh, who were you kidding? With that smile he could have all the fucking chances he wanted.

---

It’s true, you had promised yourself that in future you’d only see Nat outside the compound, but now you thought maybe you weren't being fair. Maybe you should give her friends another chance. Maybe if you hang around the compound long enough you might bump into silky voice again. 

Besides, this time it wasn’t just a bunch of dudes getting hammered, it was a freaking garden party. Surely it couldn't degenerate in the same way those other nights did...

You were there for ten minutes before Thor sprayed champagne all over your outfit. 

‘My apologies, friend of Natasha.’ He obviously didn’t remember your name. ‘I think you look better like that anyway.’

You could hear a chorus of sniggering behind you. You had half a mind to just give up and leave, when you felt a hand plant itself on your lower back. 

Loki appeared beside you and passed you a wad of napkins with his free hand. ‘Must you be such a blundering idiot all the time, brother?’ 

‘It’s fine, just an accident.’ You shot Thor a tight smile and wiped the sticky alcohol off your face. As soon as he moved out of earshot, you muttered under your breath. ‘Fucking asshole.’

‘An accurate assessment.’ Loki chuckled before removing his hand and slowly moving to stand opposite you. ‘I’ll be honest, I didn’t expect to see you again.’ 

‘Yeah? Why's that?’

‘You didn't exactly seem like you were enjoying their company.’ 

A dejected grimace spread across your face. ‘Was it that obvious?’

You tried your best to dry your clothes, but they were already stained beyond repair. Sighing in exasperation, you balled up the napkins, tossed them on a nearby table and gave Loki a defeated shrug. 

He shot some daggers over at the gaggle of idiots, still guffawing amongst themselves, before placing a hand softly on your upper arm. 

‘I was about to take a walk through the woods. Perhaps you'd like to join me?’

‘That actually sounds really nice.’ You gave him a faint smile. ‘Thanks.’

Following him into the trees, you checked behind you a few times, only relaxing when the noise of the party started fading into the background.

‘Worried we'll be hunted?’

‘Nope, just don’t want Nat to see us disappear into the forest together.’ He furrowed his brows at you in slight confusion. ‘She made it pretty clear that I should stay away from you.’

‘And yet, here you are, alone with me in the dense wilderness. Maybe you have a deathwish?’

‘Maybe. Or maybe I think your bark is worse than your bite.’ 

You walked together for a while, conversation flowing easily. You weren't sure if it was the fresh air, the smell of champagne or your growing excitement at being alone with Loki, but your head started swimming a little.

Every single guy you'd been with throughout your life had bored you almost to tears, it had just been one meathead after another. Granted, moving straight onto alleged psychopaths probably wasn't ideal, but you were a grown ass adult and you were allowed to make terrible decisions if you felt like it. 

Jesus, maybe you did have a deathwish. 

Coming to a clearing, you both stopped at the edge of a small river crossing your path. There was a short, comfortable silence as you listened to the flowing water, enjoying the peace you’d found in what would otherwise have been a turbulent evening. 

‘I can see why you like this walk.’ You eventually piped up. ‘It must be lovely and peaceful when you're alone.’

He let out a deep, breathy chuckle and turned towards you. ‘I'm actually rather enjoying having some company. Intelligent conversation seems difficult to come by in this place.’

‘Interesting. I can’t possibly imagine why anyone would avoid talking to you.’ 

Your voice was dripping with sarcasm. When you finally dared to turn your head and sneak a look at his face, you were relieved to see that he seemed more amused than offended, narrowed eyes glaring at you above a roguish smirk.

‘Let those halfwits avoid me.’ He raised his arm and tugged at your shoulder, gently turning you round to face him. ‘I take great care when choosing my company.’ 

His hand dropped as he stepped closer, leaving barely an inch between your chests. Your breath hitched and you felt yourself tense up a little, his close proximity eliciting a potent cocktail of anxiety and excitement. 

'Are you frightened?' 

His words were barely a whisper, but they raced down your spine and along your arms like an electric shock, making every part of your body tingle. You shook your head slowly, doing everything you could to hold yourself steady. 

'Good.'

His arm circled your waist and he pulled you towards him assertively, gazing down at you against his chest for a second before dropping his face and pressing his lips firmly against yours. 

They were ice cold, the shock causing you to pull in a sharp breath through your nose. He seemed to notice, as his mouth curled into a slight smile against yours, the feeling of which made your stomach quake even harder.

You relaxed as you felt his other arm snake around your waist, both of them tightening to press his body more firmly against yours. You slid your arms around his neck and pulled his head down further, deepening the kiss and eliciting a deep growl from his throat. 

After a minute he pulled away slightly, bringing a hand up to cup your face and hold it in place, hovering close enough to his that you could feel his warm breath against your lips.

A wide, satisfied smile spread across his face. 

‘Perhaps Midgard isn’t so bad after all.’

---

[archived-gtronpa-account]

Ooo maybe some tiny shuichi content and kokichi! ( luv ur stuff btw :)! My initials are S.S btw-)

okok (first of hii s.s and thanks sec anon you're super super sweeeet) so I'm making this one into an au and I'll be happy to ramble any it if someone sends an ask abt it 😳👉👈👉👈

____

Word count: 1700

Summary: Overtaken by a sudden, overwhelming feeling of despair, Shuichi goes for a stroll alone at night and ends up putting himself in danger's hands.

____

He didn’t deserve his title. He didn’t deserve it and the ultimate initiative was merciless and didn’t want to change his situation. How could anyone call Ultimate Detective the boy who’d solved a case by accident and ruined a man’s life doing so? Shuichi didn’t like the sound of his title, he didn’t like it when his uncle or classmates would call him that, as if it was something to be proud of.

Shuichi went to the forest near his home. If he didn’t deserve his title yet then maybe he could earn it by solving the case of people disappearing there; if he couldn’t solve it, then he’d at least become one of them. He didn’t have a preference for the outcome as long as it changed his situation.

The night was dark and the snow was thick and Shuichi wondered if the missing people hadn’t died buried under feet and feet of snow. With every step he took his feet would sink in to knee level.

Up ahead and past impossibly tall trees there was a cabin. It was much larger than even his uncle’s place, but most importantly, the lights there were on. The detective hurried on to drag his feet there as fast as his tired brain would allow. When he got closer, he noticed a short girl playing in the snow outside. He tried to call out to her, but any words that formed in his mouth turned into a dry cough that cut his throat like glass shards. At least it did get her attention, but when she saw him she ran inside the cabin and slammed the door. Soon after, all lights went off.

Through the haze in his mind, it took a moment for Shuichi to realize he wasn’t supposed to still hear a set of shoes crunching on the snow after the girl had left. He turned around and looked left and right (he winced at the gesture; his neck felt stiff). As far as he could see in the darkness, there wasn’t anyone else. Then he turned back around and was faced with unfamiliar black. Up his gaze went, higher and higher upon white folds of fabric, until it settled on a grinning face looming overhead.

Shuichi’s mind didn’t comprehend the abnormality so much as it registered danger.

“Oh boy, look at this catch.”

A low whine escaped his lips, and Shuichi allowed his tired body to give out and sink deep in the snow until he could feel the cold seeping in at his forehead. He stayed there, paralyzed and frozen and oddly calm for maybe hours before he felt a faint pressure on his arm. Rather than get shattered like Shuichi feared it would, it only got pulled upward, dragging his body along until he could see the snowy scene again and a hand taller than himself pulling him up. Gravity fought to pull him down and Shuichi felt so heavy he couldn’t breathe. Only when he was lowered to rest his back against a wall could he finally take a deep breath in.

“Wouldn’t you know it, Shuichi Saihara came venturing here.” He barely caught the words past the blood roaring in his ears. Even with every limb and every muscle in his body worn down with exhaustion, he could still feel the pain of his heart pounding against his ribcage.

“How do you know me?” Despite his struggle to keep his mind awake and alert, Shuichi’s voice came out loud and clear, almost ready for an interrogatory. Past half lidded eyes, the detective tried to keep his gaze firm on the giant. It was an odd feeling for Shuichi not to properly realize the presence of a titanic boy with him; it felt almost trivial, like a fact read in textbook. He wanted to be more afraid, to run off and go back home and to his uncle, but he couldn’t get his body to move and act, couldn’t hold back the curiosity that could get him in trouble.

“The news. Congrats on the Ultimate title.” He only heard the words but didn’t see lips moving. Shuichi opened heavy eyes he didn’t realize he’d closed and looked again at the gigantic, childish face with a large grin and deathly pallor. He wondered if the stranger wasn’t born on the coldest day of the year.

The second time he noticed his eyes had closed was when Shuichi felt more of the cold, gentle pressure but only saw darkness. He cracked a lazy eye open and saw two hands wrap a monochromatic cloth around his frame. Even with his hazy mind and spotty vision, he could see every smallest detail of the large hands and snow white skin with remarkable clarity; he felt like a doll between these hands.

His gaze was lost in the snow white skin until the hands retreated and he snapped back to reality. A single shiver ran through his body, and Shuichi grasped the fabric and wrapped it tighter around himself. A moment later, all at once, he felt the cold biting down every inch of his skin, and his body was overcome with a series of uncontrollable shudders. Heat seeped in his freezing limbs, the air in his lungs warmed up, the fog in mind cleared, and Shuichi exhaled sharply when he finally looked far up at the strange being with all the wariness and fear he should have felt long ago.

Shuichi couldn’t help but think he looked slightly different, only he couldn’t exactly pinpoint the change.

“Looking better already! Now, what brings you here?”

“… I’m not sure.”

“Hmm? You should, though. You know people who come here never come back,” Then the giant boy’s face lit up and his eyes gleamed with joy, “Or perhaps, is that what you want?”

Was it? Shuichi wasn’t sure, he didn’t know a whole lot at the moment; he didn’t know why he had followed his whim and ventured in a forest on a winter night, didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of how worried his uncle would be, didn’t know who the girl was and why she’d hid from him, didn’t know why he was having a civilized conversation with a massive stranger who could squeeze his organs out with a single finger over his chest. But at the very least, Shuichi knew for sure that he didn’t want to deal with the surrealism of his situation any longer, he didn’t want to worry his uncle. He wanted to go home. Gaze still firm on the pair of gigantic purple eyes, Shuichi shook his head.

The other boy let out a long, dramatic sigh. “What a shame, I really wanted you in my collection, but I guess that’s not happening today.”Shuichi didn’t protest more than a sputter when the hands taller than him came closer and cupped around his bundled-up form. His breath hitched in his throat, and he wrapped his arms tighter around himself when he felt gravity shift and heard an “Upsy-daisy,” from above.

The giant boy stood up to his full height, and Shuichi swore to himself he wouldn’t look down to the ground. Instead, he looked up to the stars shining over his head. The sky looked nothing like what he’d see back home, when he’d go to the rooftop on lonely nights. Shades of colors mixed and merged in the sky, dark indigo faded into soft lilac and charcoal. Yellow ocher met rosewood and hints of dull orange and every shade in between like a flower field, shifting and swirling about. Millions of tiny sparks of dead stars shone bright in the galaxy, scattered about like broken glass, some shards bigger, brighter than others. A clear night sky would reflect the Milky Way, Kaito had told him once. Kaito would have loved this place.

Several fleeting thoughts filled the detective’s head, millions as the stars in the night sky. He settled for the question that had brought him there, “Where do the missing people go?”

“Oh, those? I ate them for dinner,” The giant boy eyed him down. His eyes, too, reflected galaxies and flower fields and broken glass, and Shuichi took a second too long to tear his gaze away and react to statement with a grimace. The boy only spared him a quick smirk before looking away. “Kidding, kidding. Fine, I’ll let you on a little secret if you promise not to tell the authorities.” He nodded, then had to wait a moment for the giant to speak. “They don’t wanna come back, and I make sure that doesn’t happen. But that’s not what you want, right? Where do you live?”

Shuichi stayed silent for a moment; mulling the answer over, thinking back to the strange girl he’d seen. His frustratingly tired mind couldn’t come up with a satisfying deduction, so he moved on and gave his vague address.

“So we’re neighbors, huh? Wild. You should totally rent somewhere else. Anywaaay, let’s pretend all of this was a dream, ‘kay? Buh-bye, Shuichi, hope I’ll never see you again here.” One last time, he looked back to the cabin the woods, before letting his eyelids drop and his consciousness drift off.

When he woke up in his room, Shuichi didn’t feel any less tired then when he’d gone to sleep in his bed. Cold gripped his bones and nipped at his skin, a strong gust of icy wind hit his cheek, and Shuichi winced and shuddered. He got up and walked over to his window. Before closing it and going back to sleep, he let his gaze wander over to the sky, pitch black with tiny stars shining here and there if he squinted hard enough. He frowned, let his head drop down and his gaze get lost in the milky white snow.

[suguwu]

bee I had a nanami dream and since you're the resident nanami blog I want to tell you about it

we were co-workers and there was this corporate retreat or something which included us, along w other people, living in a cabin in the woods for three days or so. but on the first night, we discovered that there was a thing (looked like a deer, but it stood on its hind legs and its antlers were curved very intricately and its fur was matted with blood. there were fresh and rotting wounds all over its body and flies buzzed around it)

and this deer/monster came into our cabin on the first night and took one of the people and went away. so after getting over the initial panic, we started locking ourselves in cabinets or wardrobes, whatever we could find, when the thing came around to get us at night

(I swear I'm getting to nanami lmao)

but one night I couldn't find a wardrobe to hide in in time, and I could hear the deer/monster creeping outside the cabin. so I started panicking and hid under a bed but it just lifted the bed and tried to grab me. i made a run for it but it was hot on my trail when suddenly it just. stopped. I turned around to see nanami holding a fucking bat and the deer monster stumbling, like it was stunned. and nanami just rushed at me and grabbed me by my wrist and tugged me along with him. we went into a room with an empty chest and nanami opened it and just shoved me inside, telling me to be a good girl and keep quiet.

and then we were saved? i remember thanking him and him kissing me on the forehead but like. that's it

I'm sorry for rambling omg I got carried away

hi dream anon!!! i got your second ask too—thanks for sending it but you're totally gucci about everything in this!!! i’m,,,very desensitized to horror of any type lmao. but i so appreciate you coming back to warn me!!

okay so first of all i am jealous of your nanami dream! how do i get me one of those?? also tho this is intense af—like wow. it's also hella detailed anon ur mind!!!

PLEASE nanami coming to the rescue?? WE LOVE TO SEE IT. also is it bad that i'm like...nanami swinging a fucking bat,,,that's hot.

a forehead kiss 😭 please that is so cute!!!

don't be sorry, you didn't ramble at all!!! this is one hell of a dream and i'm so delighted you shared it!! i cannot lie i am Thinking Thots about monster hunter nanami now 😶

EDIT: anon!!! i literally just realized i forgot to scream about nanami saying to be "a good girl and keep quiet"?!?! i think i literally blacked out when i read that, otherwise i would have been SHOUTING about it much quicker holy shit. holy shit.

literally anon your MIND. your DREAM. how do i get this?!?!

[moonlit-imagines]

One With the Force

Cal Kestis x blind!reader

warnings:

a/n: thank you anon! hope this works for you, there wasnt a solid prompt to go along with it so i tried to improvise 💖

prompt: anonymous: “could i request a cal x blind reader, but she's also force sensitive? like a toph-esque character. love ur stuff recently x”

Your eyes shot open while you laid flat on your uncomfortable bedding.

“What is it, Cal?” You emerged from your sleep, giving the boy a slight startle.

“Oh—I was just checking if you were awake.” He scratched the back of his head and leaned on your door frame.

“I am now.” You sat up and placed each of your feet onto the cool metal floor of the ship.

“Well,” Cal chuckled awkwardly, “now that you’re up, do you want to go exploring with me?” You didn’t reply to him, just waited for him to go on. “I’m about to head out and take a look around the area before we lift off in the morning.”

“Yeah, sure, why not?” You moved around your room and grabbed your satchel. “Any clue what you’re looking for?”

“Not at all, but that’s what makes it fun.” He took you by the arm and you froze.

“Cal,” you coldly said, “I don’t need help getting around.” You felt his hand quickly retreat and rub down his pants.

“Yep. Sorry.” Cal waited for you to walk in front of him and let you lead the way. The ship door opened and drew the bridgeway down for you and your friend to leave. The chilly air hit you head-on, sending a shiver down your spine. “You okay?”

“It’s a bit cold.” You walked out and felt your surroundings buzz around in the night. Cal suddenly disappeared back into the ship and re-emerged with one of his ponchos.

“Here, wear this.” He tugged the garment over your head and adjusted it accordingly.

“Thanks.” You mumbled and pulled the warm fabric closer to your body. “We should go closer to those woods over there, I sense an...interesting creature over there.” You pulled Cal along with you and swatted away at the insects that bothered you.

“What is it like? Using the Force as sight, I mean.” Cal asked, genuinely curious. You thought about your answer as you pushed through the brush and other types of native life. “Y/N?”

“I heard you. I’m thinking.” You answered and heard him hum. “It’s enlightening.” You finally decided to tell him.

“Care to explain that answer?” Cal nudged you and you stopped in your tracks.

“Quiet.” You hushed him. “Look.” You pointed forward and directed his gaze to the bear-like creature staring right back at you. “Tell me, is she beautiful or what?”

“Yeah, it’s amazing.” He pat your shoulder and the bear let out a screeching bark that knocked you both over from shock. You fell on top of Cal and squirmed you regain your composure. “Hey, stop moving for a second.” The ginger pulled you closer to his chest and you felt his breathing and heartbeat grow faster. “Doing okay?”

“Yeah...yeah, I’m good. Just a little shaken.” You admitted and steadied your own breathing. “She’s walking away. Maybe it’s time we get back to the ship?” You suggested and Cal moved you off of him so he could help you back up. “‘Go exploring,’ huh?” Each of you let out a half-hearted laugh and walked towards the ship.

“We’ll try it again some other time, what do you say?”

[alexandralyman]

You are my favorite fan fic author and BH&H is my favorite story. I am also a family medicine physician whose world has been all consumed by COVID-19. I’m not even sure what I’m asking for here. I know you’re not ready on the next chapter. But any teases, extras, or headcanons you could give about my favorite story? I’m looking for a distraction and CS is where I bury my head.

I’ve received a lot of messages on here over the years and while I can’t claim to remember them all, this one is definitely going to stick with me. I could never have imagined when I started watching Once that it was going to lead to this worldwide community of fans and it’s a privilege to be part of it and to have made my own humble contributions with these words that I write.

Thank you, Anon, I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now and anything I could say here feels woefully inadequate at the moment. I’ll be thinking of you and wherever you are out there in the world, I’m sending my love from my little corner of Canada because while the border may be closed, we’ll take heart from the show that brought us all together and know we will always find each other.

Now, let’s talk about BH&H and just have some fun. We need a little fun right now, don’t we?

Killian agrees, so here we go with some little teases.

Another character from canon will appear as an angel

The subplot about the mayoral election going on in the present day isn’t just filler, and it’s going to come up again. 

I’ve written that Killian owns a lake house, but what I haven’t mentioned yet is that it was built using wood from the same ship that he took Emma to Saint-Domingue on. Also, it’s not a place where he entertains other women, it’s his private retreat and he keeps it separate from that. 

Certain people have the ability to see angels and demons for what they really are. Auguste was one of them, and that’s meant to be a nod to how in canon August knew that the fairytale characters were real. There will be someone else who has this ability as well.

I think that’s about it for now - I don’t want to give too much away and spoil some plot points I’ve got planned, but these are all things that will come up at some point and I don’t think they give too much away. If you didn’t see it when I posted on the weekend, I also wrote an extra scene where Emma goes to Killian for some solace from everything going on in the world cause I needed to just write and post something for a bit of an escape. Here it is, a quiet moment.

And my askbox is always open. For everyone.

[that-stonathan-life]

“Talk to me, please.”

Prompted by an anon request:  Angst, #25

Jonathan pulled his coat closer to his body, trying not to shiver. It wasn't that cold, but he and Steve had been stuck in this room for going on three hours -- ever since Eleven's brother from hell had locked them in. When they hadn't been able to wrench the doors back open in the first few hours, Jonathan had suggested conserving their energy and waiting for someone to find them. Steve had agreed, retreating to his own corner of the room. Jonathan took the opposite corner and that's where they'd stayed, as far as they could get from one another.

Maybe it wasn't worth it to feel bitter over what had happened the night before. Not when everything else was falling to shit around him.

Eventually, Jonathan decided he was too cold. Not the type of person to let pride keep him from survival, he got up and crossed the room. When he sat down next to him, Steve turned away with a huff. Jonathan rolled his eyes at the theatrics. A moment later, he tried leaning against Steve's back, putting his cheek against Steve's spine. He gave another dramatic sigh, but he didn't move away. 

After a few minutes that felt more silent than the hours before, Jonathan couldn't help but whisper, "Talk to me, please?"

Steve sighed again. He didn't turn around, but he did say, "If we die in here, I'm gonna kill you."

"Good luck with that," Jonathan replied, taking a chance and wrapping his left arm around Steve's chest, his wrist landing just above Steve's heart. It took a minute to psych himself up for it, but eventually he admitted, "I didn't think it was going to be that dangerous."

"Callahan is in the hospital, Jon," Steve muttered. "And now we're stuck in here. I bet the Chief is gonna find our bones six months from now."

"I was just…" Jonathan sat up, looking at the back of Steve's head like that would give him any clues. "I had to help El."

He felt the way Steve shrugged and then leaned back, just a little, against Jonathan. "Okay, but all I'm saying is that if you're gonna sacrifice yourself helping one of those gremlins, bring me along so I can keep your stupid ass alive."

Jonathan hugged Steve closer, wrapping his other arm around him and smiling into the hair on the back of his head. "I brought you along today, didn't I?"

"So you admit you were wrong?" Steve asked, hooking his fingers around Jonathan's right wrist.

"Sure."

Steve took something out of his pocket and held it over his shoulder for Jonathan to take. Confused, Jonathan took it, only to find that it was a two-way radio. He flipped the switch and it turned on, static crackling over the speaker. 

"What the fuck, Steve?" Jonathan asked. "Have you had this the whole time?"

"Sucks not having all the information, doesn't it?" Steve asked, laughing when Jonathan gave him a shove.

Pressing the button to talk, Jonathan said, "Hey, is anyone out there? It's Jonathan. I've got Steve with me."

After a moment of static, a voice came over the radio. "Jonathan?" He recognized it as Mike's voice. "Where the hell are you? We've been looking all over the woods!"

"We're in the old mill building, locked in a room on the first floor," Jonathan told Mike. "Bring a crowbar!"

"Or El," Steve added, standing and joining Jonathan, a hand on his shoulder.

Jonathan repeated Steve's addition into the radio before adding, "Hurry. It's freezing in here."

"We'll be there soon," Mike promised.

Jonathan thanked him and then turned to face Steve. "You're such an asshole. You know that, right?"

Steve grinned and said, "Takes one to know one, babe," before kissing Jonathan. 

He returned the kiss begrudgingly, then buried his cold face in the crook of Steve's neck. "Don't do petty shit like this again," Jonathan muttered. "Just talk to me."

"Then you have to promise to listen," Steve said, rubbing Jonathan's back. "Okay?"

Jonathan nodded against Steve's neck. "Yeah, okay."

Send me another prompt!

[alliswell21]

Older!Peeta for your prompt request?

Hi Anon! This Prompt has been in my inbox for an embarrassing long time. But it just kept growing and getting away from me. So, it’s not a drabble anymore. It’s a 4500+ word one shot, and I hope you like it.

Rated G.

>>—————>

He’s wiping the preparation table when I walk onto the threshold of the back door to his bakery. I linger a moment, just to admire the flex of his strong, muscly arms, before clearing my throat, alerting him of my presence.

Ha startled a little when he looks up, but as soon as he realizes is me, he smiles broadly, making my breath hitch and my knees falter. The man is in his early thirties, give or take some ten years my senior, but I can’t help the way my stomach flips every time he smiles, regardless of if it’s directed at me or someone else.

“Hello, Katniss! What can I do you for?” The young baker says throwing his rag over his shoulder, making his way to meet me.

I step forward, trying not to trip on my own feet. Every time we trade I hope he doesn’t catch up on the humongous crush I have on him. I would die of embarrassment if he did.

“Hi, Mr. Mellark. I have a couple of squirrels in my bag, in case you’re interested.” I say with my best smile, one I secretly save just for him.

“You know I’m always interested in your squirrels, Katniss! I love me a fresh game stew.” He says, winking at me, making my heart rush.

I can’t hold his gaze, my cheeks are burning. I try to shove down my silly infatuation to close the deal already and retreat to the street, where my heated face and neck can cool off.

I busy myself rooting around my bag, choosing the thickest critters while mindlessly responding to his comment.

“We usually fry ours. Especially if I get too many and can’t trade them all for something else. Having a whole fried squirrel to oneself is alright when there ain’t anything else besides.”

I pull two fat squirrels out of the bag triumphantly, but when I raise my eyes, my smile falters. I think he was looking at me with pity or something in that realm, it’s hard to tell, since almost immediately his eyes took his usual warm, jovial quality. But I’m still mortified, the last thing I want is for him to pity me. He’s the only person to ever showed me compassion in this town, and I don’t want him to worry about my wellbeing; I can take care of myself and my family now.

When I was eleven, there was an explosion in the coal mines where my father worked. My father was one of the few lucky ones to come to the surface with his life tightly grasped. Father suffered third degree burns over most of his body, his boots melted to his skin. The town doctor had to amputate both legs. Father was alive and eventually recovered from his many injuries, but the accident had effectively rendered him employable any longer.

The fear, anger and helplessness I felt then almost ate me whole; of it hadn’t been for Mr. Peeta Mellark, my whole family would’ve starved to death, but here we are still, and I want him to know we’re okay now.

“Fried squirrels are a perfect meal on their own. Why mess it up with sides if you can help it?” I smile at him weakly.

“True. But if you ever have an overstock on game of any type, don’t hesitate on coming here to trade. I host family supper with my folks, my brothers and their families every so often. More meat in the stew will always be a plus!” His smile is so sweet and genuine, I have no choice but to agree.

“Will do.”

He looks over the squirrels with a satisfied smile on his lips and nods in approval, which makes me burst with pride and joy; he turns to bag a loaf of bread from a nearby tray and while he’s doing it, he asks conversationally, “So, are looking forward to the festival tonight?”

“Yes. Nothing like my sister, though. But I am looking forward to it. Daddy is coming too. It should be nice.”

“That’s great news about your father,” he says looking at me over his shoulder. “I bet your mother will have her hands full, caring for him and shooing away all the boys that’ll come asking you for a dance,” his eyes are full of mirth as he hands me the bread.

My mother, is the daughter of the most trusted apothecary in town, she’s a very respected and sought out healer, but caring for Daddy became a full time job for her for a while, leaving me as the sole breadwinner for the household.

I’m uncomfortable with the last part of the baker’s comment, but I try to hide it. “Oh, not really. I don’t get asked to dance much,” is a statement, and I’m completely fine with it, but Mr. Mellark is frowning, like he can’t believe it, so I add, “I’m not the dancing type, anyway. I’ll be too busy making sure Prim’s line of admires doesn’t get out of hand.” I smile.

“Surely that fellow, Gale Hawthorne, will like to take you into the dance floor for a spin?” The baker asks doubtful.

I shake my head. “He’ll most likely be too preoccupied watching over his siblings for that.” I shrug.

I think he’s about to say something else, but I cut him off pretending I didn’t notice, informing him Prim will be over tomorrow with some of her goat cheese. Four years ago, I was able to get a nanny goat for my sister. Now we have two goats that produce good milk. Primrose, makes cheese and sells it. She does well with her cheeses.

The baker and I conclude our business quickly after that, and I hurry home before the baker has a chance to start talking about the festival again. I’m exhausted from having to keep in check all my feelings and emotions in front of the baker while we traded. Is a taxiing chore being polite and friendly without showing my affection for the man, I doubt he’ll be thrilled to learn of my crush anyway. Is a well known fact that the man is very selective where women are concerned.

The baker, Mr. Peeta Mellark, is single, relatively young and very attractive. Women of all ages flock to his shop like flies to a flame. He’s also very well off being one of two bakers in town— the other one is his oldest brother, who’s married with children of his own— but Mr. Peeta has only been romantically linked to a couple of ladies in the last few years, and none of the relationships progressed to marriage. I know is silly, but I like him not being linked to anyone, it just makes my crush on the man feel harmless, at least this way, the only heart that could get potentially hurt is mine.

My family is already preparing for the festivities when I step into my home, and my mother sends me straight to the washroom, where a tub with warm water awaits me. After I’m rid of the grime of the day, my mother lets me wear one of her dresses from when she was young, a very femenin blue number with matching blue shoes. She puts my hair in an elaborate updo and Prim swoons dreamily, imagining there would be a line of boys trying to ask me to dance with them.

I snort.

It seems my sister and the baker mistake me for something I’m not. Nobody wants to dance with a scrawny, dark, scowling girl, with too many responsibilities and mouths to feed to be paying any attention to suitors. Of course, I don’t say any of this out loud because Prim seems happy, and there’s so little instances in which she can let her imagination romanticize my life anyway, I let her be for the night. Tomorrow will bring reality way too fast, there’s no reason to rush into it.

At seven o'clock, my mother and I sit Daddy in his wheelchair, while Prim pushes it carefully out of the living room and unto the small ramp running down the porch steps. Mother takes over and Prim and I simply flank our mother’s sides while we make our way to the town square.

Everyone is in attendance, the Harvest Festival being one of the few events our small community celebrates in unison. This year they went all out with the decorations; fairy lights hang criss crossed from building to building overhead all over the square. Small bouquets of wildflowers and sprigs of wheat and even a small fruit can be found tied with strips of burlap to light poles or benches all over the place; and the smell of spiced cider fills the air, making it feel warm and cozy, though is completely packed in here.

There are a few booths where one can buy cider, candied apples or pastries, circling the square perimeter. Prim squeals when Daddy gives a coin and sends her away to get peppermints from the sweets’s table. A group of men with mismatched instruments play music in the gazebo on the opposite corner of the square; that’s where Daddy wants to go, because he started playing the harmonica with the fiddler a few months ago, and the man invited my father to join ‘the band’ for the festival. The problem is that my mother and I can’t lift Daddy’s chair up the four steps into the gazebo.

We start looking around for either Gale or his brothers, so we can figure something out, but before my neck gets permanently stretched like a lamp post, Peeta Mellark materializes out of nowhere, and lifts my father— chair and all— over and on the wooded structure, all by himself. My parents thank him profusely, but the baker waves them off humbly, saying it was his pleasure.

He smiles at me for a moment; I think he blushes, but he tears his eyes away much too fast. I realize he could’ve been just flushed with exertion. He did just haul a grown man in a wheelchair a good foot and a half from the ground or so.

Daddy won’t let him go yet, though, “Alright, I’m a man of tradition. You do something nice for me, and in return, I’d like to do something nice for you. What’s your favorite song, sir? I know the band will be happy to perform it, and dedicate it to you. Who knows, maybe you’ll have an excuse to bring a pretty lady out on the dance floor?”

Mr. Mellark scratches the back of his head, “I’m manning my booth over there. I’m not sure when I’ll be able to close it for the night, but there’s this one song…” I believe his eyes flick in my direction for a moment, but he shuffles on his feet, and continues, “The Valley song. I know is a slow one, and I doubt I’ll dance it out with anyone, but if the band can squeeze the request in…” He Let’s the words hang in the air scratching his neck again.

“I’ll see what we can do! Thank you again for your help, mr. Mellark.”

“Peeta.” He says quickly, and brings his hand forward to shake Daddy’s. “Mr. Mellark is still my father.” He smiles.

Daddy nods. “Hunter Everdeen, harmonica player extraordinaire.”

We all chuckle at that and the baker walks off after another hand shake and a nod to mother and me. My heart is beating so fast, I think I’ll break a sweat in a minute without a way to explain it, so I make some excuse and head out find Prim, who’s been gone way longer than expected.

After finding Prim sitting on a bench with her school friends and the younger Hawthorne boys, I figure I should visit with my own friends… except my only friends are Madge Undersee and Gale Hawthorne, and the two are currently pressed together in the middle of the dance floor barely stepping in a small circle, although the music is too lively and fast for their slow pace. I scowl, not really jealous because they seem to be sweet on each other, but jealous because they can dance with someone they like, and no one thinks anything of it.

“I guess that’s why you were so adamant nobody wanted to ask you to the dance floor.”

I startled, though the voice speaking over my shoulder is deep, velvety soft and full of something like concern. I turn around to find blue eyes watching Gale and Madge with a frown.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get to dance with Hawthorne. I’m even more sorry for pestering you about it earlier. I apologize if I caused any distress.” Peeta Mellark says quietly, this time looking straight at me.

I shake my head, smiling. “Nah. Is not like that. When I graduated school, Gale asked me out. I turned him down because I didn’t feel like that for him, but I knew Madge did. I’m glad he finally realized it and gave it a chance.”

“But… you don’t seem happy.” He observes.

“It’s not about them.” I say. “I just, I’m almost twenty, and the only prospect in my future is joining the mine crews to help out at home. We do alright with Prim’s cheese, Mother’s healing, and my hunting for now, but once Prim graduates and marries, then things will get more difficult.”

The baker’s frown deepens, and I realize I’ve gone and run my mouth, worrying the only person that ever cared to lend a hand.

Is true we are better than most families in our neighborhood, The Seam, but that wasn’t true right after Daddy’s accident. The mines paid the equivalent of three months salary as termination when it was clear he wouldn’t be coming back to work. The money ran out despite all of our stretching and maneuvering. It got to the point only Prim and Daddy were eating, while mother and I went without, although mother never found out about I wasn’t eating, but saving my portions for Prim’s school lunches. The day we only had mint leaves broth for supper, I knew we were in big trouble. There was no money, Mother wasn’t tending patients because Daddy needed tending all day and night, and I decided to go sell whatever we had of value in the house.

When my plan to sell our old baby clothes failed, then I resorted to look through waste bins for any scrap of food. A teenaged Peeta Mellark found me digging through the bakery’s trash on a bitterly cold, rainy day that awful winter, and instead of chasing me away like his mama would’ve done, he gave me two loaves of the most delicious bread I’ve ever eaten. The loaves were full of nuts, raisins and grains, hearty and filling, and the first solid food we’ve had in three days.

I was so relieved to have some food, I hugged his waist and cried, but his mother finally caught on in what he’d done, and started screaming at him, berating him for being soft and gullible, giving away good bread to Seam rats; I was so scared of the old baker’s wife— it wasn’t for nothing her nickname was The Witch— I took off running with the warm bread under my shirt burning my skin, for fear the witch would take my precious food away. I faintly heard Mr. Peeta said he’d give bread away again if he ever saw a starving kid in need. I had the bad luck to turn back to see him once more before rounding a corner, right as his mother struck him across the face, screeching the most horrible things imaginable.

I didn’t stop running until I was safely home, with the bread pressed against my chest for dear life. Nobody asked me where the bread had come from, maybe too afraid to know the answer. It was Peeta Mellark’s gift that gave me the idea of foraging the woods. The next day I saw the young baker had a bruise under his eye, compliments of his witch of a mother. I was too horrified by it, I’ve never actually seen a parent hitting their own child for something that was actually good and generous, so it took me a long time to return to the bakery, but when I did, I had game to bargain with, and the smile on young Peeta’s face is something I’ll treasure forever.

“I’m not complaining about my lot in life—“

“You’re almost twenty, you said?” He asks, his voice unsure, his eyes searching.

I nod and the corner of his mouth twitches. “That’s good!” He says, his face turning crimson red. His hand goes back to scratch the back of his neck, and I start thinking it’s some sort of nervous reaction. I find it endearing, really. “I have to go back to mind my booth, but please, come find me when your father is ready to get down from up there, I want to help.”

I don’t get to accept or decline his offer, he walks quickly back to the line forming at his table, leaving me puzzled with our short interaction.

The rest of the night goes by, I do get to spend time with Gale and Madge, but since they keep making puppy eyes at each other, I leave them alone and go say hello to other people I know, mostly very loyal clients I’m on a first name basis with, like Rooba the butcher, Delly the cobbler, and Sae the street vendor that buys whatever meat I have no matter the critter, her stews are legendary, but nobody asks what’s in them.

Around eleven, my mother flags me down to let me know Daddy is feeling tired already, although he denies it vehemently. I round Prim up, who’s been dancing half the night with a different boy every time I see her. She doesn’t complain when I tell her is time to go, in fact she smiles gratefully. I guess she’s tired of the attention. We head back to the gazebo, and then I remember to go fetch Mr. Peeta, but his booth is already packed and closed for the night. The baker is nowhere to be seen, until I turn to the gazebo disappointed, just to see him already there, speaking to my parents.

“Hmm… I wonder what’s up with Daddy’s face?” Says Prim looking at our father.

She’s right, Daddy has a serious expression, the beginning of small frown tugging at his brow. Then his eyes find me in the crowd, asqe make our way to them, and then his features soften, a quizzical look takes his face. He looks back at the baker and gives a small nod. Mr. Peeta seems to breath in deeply, a big smile covers his face and he takes my father’s hand in an enthusiastic shake. In a moment, he lifts the chair with my father in it, and places it on the ground. Mother takes the handles and pushes it, so we meet on the outside of the square, ready to head home.

“So, Katniss, dear, Mama and I are heading home for the night, but Peeta here has offered to escort you and Prim back home by midnight.” My father’s voice is deep and scratchier than usual. He spares the baker a quick look, “He’s asked my permission to take you out for a dance, if you agree?” Daddy is looking at me now, his eyes knowing but soft.

My mouth hangs open, but nothing comes out, Prim loops her arm around mine and squeezes it to her side.

“She’d love to dance with Mr. Mellark, and I’ll sit with Hazelle and Posy Hawthorne until it’s time to head home.” Says Prim happily.

I nod, still too stunned to say anything. My eyes travel from my father’s to Mr. Peeta’s, not truly hiding my surprise until I notice how nervous the baker is, standing beside my parents.

“If that’s okay with you, of course. I wouldn’t dream of imposing—“

“Okay!” I gasp out.

Peeta Mellark’s relieves sigh matches perfectly how I feel inside. He smiles sweetly at me, then thanks my parents, offering his arm to me.

“May I say that you look absolutely breathtaking tonight?” He says after a few minutes dancing quietly.

“Oh… thank you.” I say shyly.

“Really!” He says beseechingly. “When I saw you walk in with your family… my heart stopped for a second. I couldn’t breathe right… heck, I still can’t breathe right. You are just stunning.”

I smile to my boots, too overcome to meet his eyes. “You look nice too.” I say, because he always looks nice, even covered and flour and frosting.

The fiddler up in the gazebo announces the last song of the night, “The Valley song, special request from Mr. Peeta Mellark. Enjoy!”

The soft notes of the mountain air come sweet and full as Mr. Peeta’s smile thins out.

“You know why I chose this song?” He asks me.

I shake my head.

“You used to sing it with your daddy when he brought you over for trades when you were a child, you used to wear your hair in two braids, instead of one back then. You remember?”

I nod, “I do. He has the loveliest voice.”

“So do you.” He says. “The birds stop to listen when you sing.” He smiles sadly, “You stopped when he got hurt. It pained me to know the world had lost two songbirds to the mines, one to injuries, the other to hunger.”

I tense in his arms, but he doesn’t stop holding me as he speaks.

“Then, one day, you came by and you were singing again, The Valley song. Your hair was in the single braid already, and you looked so grown. Your game bag was bursting with meat and greens and I knew you’d be alright. I felt happy. The song became synonymous of hope to me.

“And then, last year, you came to trade with me, and rolled your eyes at a joke I botched, most other women laugh even though is not funny. I loved that you found me corny, because that meant you weren’t like the other women, and it hit me, you’ve grown again, and you were magnificent!

“But Gale Hawthorne was standing a few paces behind you, and pulled on the end of your braid when you started walking back home before you shoved his hand away playfully. I thought it’d be a matter of time before I was making your wedding cake, and then I realized the thought made my chest tighten with sadness and jealousy, no matter if the groom was Gale or some other person.

“I felt like a pervert, because you were so young. The problem is that I felt invested in your survival when you were a kid, and then I couldn’t stop admiring your resourcefulness. Turns out I’m eight years older than you, I just feels like the gap is so much bigger when you’ve watched the person grow up before your eyes.

“I figured, next year you’ll be twenty, and age won’t matter as much when we’re in the same bracket, so I asked your father if it was alright to court you. He said that was up to you, but I could start by walking you home tonight, with Prim as chaperone”

I snort at that. Prim is possible the poorest choice in chaperone my father could’ve make. Knowing my sister, she’ll be picking out the names of her potential nieces and nephews by now, and she doesn’t even know this conversation is happening.

Peeta interrupts my musing then, “Maybe, if you find me worthy at all, I’ll be making your wedding cake a happy man this time around next year, because I will be your groom.” The uncertainty in his voice is painful. “I know that’s too far out in the future, but would you consider it?”

“Marrying you?” I ask astonished.

He scowls, and tries to dislodge from me, “Well… I understand if the idea is too—“

“Okay!” I rush breathlessly, clawing at his shirt sleeves to keep him in place.

“Okay?” He poses dazedly, “You’ll allow it then?”

I nod eagerly, “Yes, I’ll allow it. Court me, Mr. Mellark!”

He grins, “Please, call me Peeta.”

I smile at him, “Of course. That’ll be weird, calling you Mr. Mellark while we’re out on a date.”

Is his turn to smile widely. “I’m looking forward to that.”

“There’s just one thing… Peeta,” I say, and his face lights up when I use his proper name. “My birthday is in May, so maybe… we can cut short that year of courting?” I feel silly, and happy, and reckless all in one swoop.

His responding smile is blinding. “I think we can work with that. Will your folks be okay with it?”

I shrug, “They let you walk me home tonight, didn’t they? Is the first time they officially let a man walk me anywhere. And I know for ads t Daddy likes you. I like your chances.” I tell him, wondering where did all this cheekiness came from.

“Good!” He says with a shaky chuckle.

The song ends, and we collect Prim to go home. To her credit, Prim is being a very mature fifteen year old, and gives us the illusion of privacy by walking three steps ahead of us. When we reach our house, she goes right in after a quick “Good night” to Peeta, leaving us in the front stoop alone.

“Thank you for dancing with me tonight.” I say, “and for walking us home. I know is much too late for a baker to be out and about.”

“Oh, I’ll be alright. I’ll have my father come in if I need any help, but I think I can handle a long day. Spending time with you is worth it.”

Again, I smile shyly to my shoes, just noticing how comfortable they feel on my feet. I need to thank Mother for letting me wear them.

“I enjoyed spending time with you too, Peeta.”

He puts two fingers under my chin and tilt my face up, so our eyes meet.

“Could I come see you tomorrow evening?” He asks softly.

“That would be nice.”

“Katniss… there’s something else I would like to ask.” He swallows audibly.

I give him a questioning look before gesturing to go ahead.

“Would you allow me to… kiss you?”

“Yes,” I whisper nervously, excited.

He leans in slowly, his eyes searching mine the whole time, until our lips touch, and my lids close blissfully. The kiss is short and tender. Gale tried kissing me once, but I punched him in the jaw and he never tried again, but this?!

“Wow!” I breathe out. “I think I’m going to like kissing you, Peeta.” I say circling my arms around his neck.

He smiles broadly against my lips, “That’s good to hear. We’ll be madly in love with each other in no time, so it’s okay to kiss me anytime you feel like it, you know.”

I giggle. “Okay, then, come here!” I stand on tiptoes and kiss him again, long and curiously, until we hear my mother clearing her throat behind us.

The moment is embarrassing, sweet and funny, but the warmth I felt while kissing him stays with me all the way until the next day, when we steal a few kisses at the back door of the bakery when I stop there for our daily trade.

Indeed, I think we’re way on our way to madly in love already, and I couldn’t be any happier!

[redeadepression]

John Marston x F!Reader | What If | Nsft

Characters: John Marston/Reader | John Marston/Abigail Marston

Warnings: Explicit, Cheating

Word Count: 3771

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Disclaimer: John is a bad husband and Reader is a very bad friend. 

I hope you like this Anon. I probably went in a different direction than you were expecting but I was just so caught up in the fantasy. I actually had this request already half written and I never intended for it to really go in this direction with the cheating. It was just going to be a heartfelt conversation but uh… I woke up from a dream involving Modern AU John in a similar situation and I needed to write it down before it left me. 

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You had lived a hard life before you joined the Van der Linde Gang. Mumma dying before you could walk and a Papi that tried to sell you for a bag of corn. You hadn’t ever had it good. At the age of 20 you still had little to no idea what ‘good’ was.

After you ran from home you never stayed in one place for too long. Always moving. Always afraid. Never sure where your next meal was coming from. Nothing ever constant.

So when Uncle had approached you at the saloon you worked in and offered you a better life you had been skeptical. A meal every day for a few household chores and the occasional heist. He warned you, you would probably have to do some stealing. Work some cons. You had laughed at that. You already lived that way for nothing in return.

It had been a few months now and to your surprise you found yourself happy. Excited even to wake up in the mornings and see what the day had to offer.

The only thing better than the hot meals was the friendship. The comradery that came from living and working so close with a group of people day in and day out.

You found you loved that the most. It was your new constant.

You had made fast friends with the other women. Swapping stories of how you lived before the gang and realizing just how similar they had had it growing up.

The person you hadn’t expected to bond with was Abigail. She was a married Mother. Her only jobs being cooking, washing and sewing. You thought you had nothing in common. But after a drunken night of swapping secrets you had realized just how similar you both were.

You had confided in her about your darkest days and some of the more questionable things you had done to earn yourself a meal. She had laughed herself silly and you had been mad, feeling judged until she had wrapped her arms around you and hugged you to her. Still chuckling as she explained that she didn’t exactly get with child by going to church.

You had felt bad for judging her as prim and proper without getting to know her and the two of you became incredibly close after that.

The only issue you had with spending so much time with her was her insufferable husband.

John Marston was never far away while the two of you talked. He sat close enough to listen in and offered unsolicited advice to your problems that made you want to grind your teeth down to the gums.

He was insulting, in a back handed way. Complimenting you and making your heart swell before metaphorically slapping the smile off your face.

Your dress was pretty, for someone your size. Your hair looked nice today, if you liked that colour.

He was a miserable bastard, always nearby, always listening. You hated it. At least you thought you did.

Until one day he helped you up after a fall and the electricity you felt coursing through you at his touch was enough to send you reeling back a few paces, falling again flat on your ass with a loud thunk as he gaped at you in surprise.

He had laughed way too hard, leaving you to help yourself up as he moved on his merry way. You came crashing back to reality as you watched his back retreating and growled in frustration. There was no way you could actually find him attractive.

But as the weeks wore on you had found yourself thinking about him more and more. The way his hair shone in the afternoon sunlight as he sat cross legged by the cliffside and whittled a piece of wood with scared hands.

The way the curve of his ass fit snuggly against his jeans as he bent to pick up heavy bags of flour. Sweat glistening on his forehead as he wiped it with the back of his hand.

The thought of his sweaty brow pressed against yours as he fucked you hard against the nearest flat surface had you flustered. Your cheeks heating as you worked on your sewing.

If only he wasn’t such an asshole.

Or married.

You realized suddenly, as Abigail picked your conversation back up from where you left off. You turned to her in surprise, having forgotten she was present and she eyed you suspiciously as she followed your eyeline from before.

Her lips pursed briefly as she caught sight of John. She composed herself quickly, continuing on your conversation as if there was never a pause. You were thankful for that. A lesser woman would have probed you about it.

A few more days passed after your near miss with Abigail before you had finally had enough of John’s attitude. You had been minding your business, chopping vegetables for the dinner stew when he had sauntered over with his empty coffee mug and made a snide remark about your technique.

You felt your hand grip the knife tightly before you slammed it down on the chopping board, making him jump.

“What the fuck!” You paused for emphasis. “Is your Goddamn problem with me?” You asked, voice raised as you gestured to yourself angrily. John stammered, in surprise. Looking glad you had left the knife on the bench with the way you were waving your arms wildly.

“I…” he began, seemingly speechless. “I don’t… have a problem with you?” He said quietly, phrasing it as if it was a question.

“Well then why the fuck are you so fucking rude?” You shouted, curses slipping from your tongue way too easily for someone that was supposed to be a lady.

John’s mouth moved wordlessly as he glanced around him to see who was watching. Thankfully no one had raised their heads at the commotion. He grimaced as he tried to explain. Cutting himself off and starting again before lunging for you suddenly.

You stared at him in shock. His hand was on your arm and he was leading you past the boundaries of camp. You let him pull you along, feet moving autonomously as you decided you were determined to get to the bottom of his dreadful behavior.

He stopped a few meters out of camp, turning to face you and scanning behind you momentarily. He met your eyes briefly before looking away again.

Crossing his arms he let out a huge sigh, frowning at the ground as you cleared your throat to try and jolt him in to action.

“I...” He started, lowering his tone and leaning in slightly. “I like you.” He whispered, still not making eye contact.

You raised your brows in surprise, forcibly stopping yourself from taking a physical step back as he moved closer. You hadn’t been expecting that.

“Well you got a shitty way of showin’ it.” You huffed, crossing your arms.

“I like you.” John repeated, voice quiet and rushed. “But it’s wrong. It’s so fucking wrong.” He said urgently. “If Abigail ever found out...”

“It’s okay...” you assured, cutting him off by placing a hand on his shoulder. You could sense the anxiety in him running ramped. You needed him to know what he was saying was just between the two of you.

He looked scared. Vulnerable. You had never seen him that way before. It was endearing.

“I... I keep tellin’ her it’s nothin’.” He explained. “I keep tellin’ her and she keeps askin’, she don’t believe me. The only way to make her stop is... is to...” he trailed off, finally meeting your shocked expression with his sad eyes. “I’m sorry.” He said sincerely, voice hushed as he looked back at the ground. “I don’t mean to be so terrible.”

You considered him for a moment, lips forming a thin line as you looked him up and down. The wind whistled between you, rustling his hair as the silence between you both continued. He moved to brush dark strands out of his eyes, hand pausing in midair as you grabbed it with yours.

“I like you too…” You admitted, feeling sheepish. You had always found him attractive as much as you hated to admit it. From the second you saw him you knew there was something there. But he was already taken before you came along and when you made friends with Abigail, you knew for certain nothing could ever happen between the two of you. He had been an asshole since you began your friendship anyway. You had no idea he had been faking it.

John’s eyes widened slightly at the admission, cheeks flushing as he pulled his hand away from yours and brushed his hair behind his ear. He kept his eyes averted, staring at the ground in between you as he thought.

“I love Abigail.” He said suddenly, as if he felt he needed to clarify.

You nodded, not really sure where he was going with this. “But I…” he paused, unsure how to say what was on his mind. “I guess I never planned on bein’ married… Not… Not now… anyway.” He stuttered awkwardly, gesturing with his hands as he spoke. “It was the right thing to do you know?” He continued when you didn’t reply. “Marry her ‘cause she was with child. I just… I didn’t… I mean I don’t…” He trailed off, crossing his arms as he looked off in to the distance. “I don’t want to hurt her. I ain’t no cheater.” He said softly, looking back to you sadly.

You nodded in agreement. Neither were you, you didn’t think. You couldn’t stand the thought of hurting Abigail. She had been so kind to you. But the arousal you had felt when he had taken your hand earlier. It was enough to cloud anyone’s judgement.

“Anyway…” John said as a means of moving the conversation along. “Don’t matter what I feel for you or what you feel for me.” He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “We should get back.” He pointed towards camp, making to move and stopping beside you to wait for you to follow him.

You turned as well, walking beside him until you reached the very edge of camp. You started to trail behind, lost in thought before stopping completely beside one of the broken wagons that had been tossed aside for fixing. John stopped ahead when he realized you weren’t following and came back to you, raising his brows in question as you sank down on to one of the empty vegetable crates.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, hovering nervously as he scanned the camp for Abigail’s figure. He wasn’t about to leave you alone looking sad but he wasn’t sure he could take the ridicule if Abigail caught the two of you together.

“It’s just a shame is all.” You said gloomily, petting the seat beside you and watching as he hesitated for a moment before he took it. Careful to leave a respectable amount of space between the two of you.

“What’s a shame?” He asked, thinking maybe he already knew the answer. He jumped slightly as your hand slid on to his thigh. You gave it a quick squeeze, making him shiver.

“All the fun we’ll never get to have.” You smiled to yourself, eyes flicking towards him to catch a glimpse of him licking his lips.

“It’s for the best.” He answered, voice sounding forced, as if he didn’t believe it himself.

“Is it?” You asked, looking to him with half lidded eyes as your brain screamed at you to tone it down. You couldn’t help it, the way his hand slowly slid on top of your own. The way he glanced around nervously before letting it tighten. It ignited a fire in your belly. A hunger awakening like you’d never felt before.

He didn’t answer, knowing anything he said in reply would be a lie. He wanted nothing more than to explore the feelings he couldn’t control.

But Abigail…

You pulled your hand from his grip as you stood, his own hand trailing after you as if to try and pull you back in. You turned to stand in front of him. Far too close to be perceived as platonic if anyone were to be watching. The sides of your knees rubbed against his thighs and he looked up at you with a mixture of guilt and awe as he tried to adjust his erection discreetly.

You smirked, eyes flicking quickly around the camp to make sure no one was watching before leaning down, pressing your hands in to his shoulders and whispering in his ear.

“Maybe just once…”

His hands were under your ass before you had time to register what happened. Your legs wrapped around him instinctively as he lifted you. He pressed you hard against the wood of the wagon, shielding you both from prying eyes as he rested his sweaty forehead against yours. His eyes were screwed shut and he panted heavily. Your lips parted, your breath huffing over his chapped lips.

He pressed his lower body towards you readily. Erection pressing in to your centre and making you gasp.

He was as hard as steel and as hot as fire.

Your hands slowly snaked up his back and in to his hair. Grabbing fistfuls, you pulled on it lightly. His hips bucked in response, face wincing for a split second before evening out once more. You couldn’t tell if he liked it or not.

Pulling again experimentally you heard him whimper softly. Felt his cock pulse against you and realised you had gotten your answer.

You smiled to yourself waiting for him to make his move. Both of you breathing heavily against one another, lips an inch apart for what seemed like years.

Your impatience got the best of you, pushing you to move forwards with intent to kiss him. He turned his head quickly, your lips coming to rest against his scarred cheek.

He averted his eyes, not able to look at you as you pulled back in question.

“I ain’t no cheater.” He muttered, repeating his words from earlier and making you frown.

“Then what are you doing here?” You asked softly, one of the hands in his hair coming down to cup his cheek. You pressed against it, forcing him to face you.

He turned towards you, lust filled eyes locking on to yours as he swallowed thickly.

“I...” he began, not quite sure how to continue. You looked him over once more, taking in every inch of his flushed skin. Feeling his hard member burning in to your mound. You watched him shrug. Swallowing again and pressing his forehead against yours once more.

He sighed heavily, smiling sadly as he closed his eyes. He wanted to enjoy the anticipation for a second longer before it had to end.

You smiled weakly. Understanding better than anyone the predicament he was in. Abigail was your best friend. You didn’t want to hurt her either.

You wrapped your arms around his back, pulling him close in an effort to comfort him. But unable to stop your breath hitching as he pressed in to you a little more.

He huffed excitedly, cock throbbing at the sound. You supressed a moan, biting in to your bottom lip as you rolled your hips experimentally against him. He felt so good.

He whined softly in response, hands shaking under your ass as he fought with what was right and what he desperately wanted in that moment.

Release.

You smiled to yourself, exhaling softly as you whispered against his lips.

“You wanna fuck me?”

You ground yourself against his hardness with what little leverage you had. Your pussy spasming at the feeling.

John gasped, suppressing a moan of his own as his hips joined yours, rocking against you eagerly.

“Yeah?” You replied when he didn’t answer, voice sultry. Taking his movement as a yes.  You pulled his head to the side, whispering directly in his ear this time. “You wanna fuck my pussy until it’s raw?” You asked, crying out softly at the way his hips jolted at the question. He ground against you at a steady pace, breath stuttering at the sensation.

You let your tongue dart out to lick at the shell of his ear. Making him squirm as his thrusts quickened.

You continued your onslaught, voice so soft no one around you would be able to hear.

“You want to hear me moan for you?” You asked, breath hitching on purpose as you moaned softly, a long exaggerated sound that made his entire body tremble.

“John....” you breathed, rolling your hips to match his thrusts. “Oh.... Johnnn.” You groaned against him, feeling the hands under your ass tighten as his rhythm faltered momentarily.

“Ah…” You whispered. “Ah… John…” You gasped, purposefully hitching your inhale in an exaggerated manner. You knew you were driving him wild.

John painted heavily, breathing uneven as groans caught in his throat in an effort to be quiet. He was so hard. So wet. He’d never felt so turned on.

“Fuck…” He murmured as you continued to breath heavily in his ear. Mumbling his name and telling him how good he felt.

“Are you gonna cum for me?” You asked quietly, your hands moving to his waist and holding on tight for better leverage. He choked on a moan, a broken inhale following as he pushed his head passed you and pressed his forehead in to the wood of the wagon. Lips on your shoulder as he rocked his hips against you at a jagged pace.

He was so close. This was so wrong. So naughty. You felt so good against him. His mind wandered to what it would feel like to be inside you. To fuck you proper, not stopping until neither of you could breath.

“You’re fucking me so good John.” You whisper, seemingly following his train of thought as his abs began to clench. “Your cock feels so good inside me.” You gasp, hands tightening on his sides as your press against his every thrust. “Fuck me harder.” You order, making him shake.

“Good God…” He grunted breathily.

“Cum inside me.” You whimper excitedly, nipping at his ear as he cried out louder than he should. His voice a strangled whine as he rutted against you, groaning in ecstasy. You pulled his ass tight against you with your calves, making it hard for him to move as he shook and whined through an intense orgasm.

He whispered your name with a shaking voice. Small keening sounds still leaving him long after the sensation had passed. He continued to rock gently against you. Not wanting it to end.

Not wanting to part.

You chuckled at his enthusiasm, forcefully pushing him away once you started to feel his seed seep through his pants and on to your own.

If he stained your dress there would be no hiding what had transpired when you both emerged from behind the wagon looking thoroughly fucked.

He let you go readily. Allowing you to use his shoulders to hold steady as your unwrapped your legs and dropped them to the ground.

You stood awkwardly for a moment. Still only inches apart and both breathing heavily.

You didn’t finish, but that hardly mattered. He had made an entire bank load of lewd sounds for you to lock away in your vault and use at your leisure alone in your own tent.

You supposed he probably felt the same way about you despite his orgasm.

John looked sheepish, whether embarrassed by the outcome of your transgressions or unsure what to do now you couldn’t tell.

His hand moved slowly to touch your arm as he kept his eyes on your boots. He ran his fingers across it lightly before dropping it back to his side.

“That was... I...” He stammered, trying to find the right words.

“You don’t need to say it.” You said softly, taking a step closer and pressing a hand to his cheek once more. “I understand.” You assured him.

It was clear to the both of you that this could never happen again. It could never go further than what it already had. You both knew deep down that although John claimed to not be a cheater, he had certainly cheated on Abigail this afternoon. He had spilled his seed to the touch of another women.

You wondered absently if it would make a difference to her if she ever found out. The fact that you didn’t actually fuck him. He never even kissed you.

You wondered if it made a difference to John’s conscience. Or if he would still be riddled with guilt for his adultery.

The look on his face gave you his answer as he slowly slunk away from you. Glancing around as he darted from cover to cover, trying to make it to his tent without being seen.

You giggled at the sight, sitting back down on the crate from earlier and lighting a cigarette. You took a long drag from it, exhaling slowly as you lost your self in your thoughts.

~

You warmed your hands by the fire, chuckling to your self at the story Hosea was recounting about a hunt gone wrong. You’d all heard it a million times but the novelty never seemed to wear off as the tale became a little more exaggerated with each retelling. Seemingly forgotten details adding to the fun and filling out the boring parts with simple one-liners that had everyone in stitches.

Abigail’s hearty laugh could be heard from across the fire as Hosea gestured wildly to add to the atmosphere. You looked for her, smiling faintly as she caught your eye before turning back to Hosea. She knew you loved this story.

John was beside her, his arm slung around her shoulders as he laughed along to the anecdote. You stared at him for a moment. Raising your brows in surprise as he turned to look directly at you. You wondered if he had felt your eyes on him as his face fell momentarily. His hand tightened on Abigail’s shoulder and she leaned in to him looking up to place a soft kiss on his stubbled cheek. His eyes snapped away from you locking on to hers before capturing her lips and kissing her softly.

Abigail turned back to the fire and he looked to you apologetically. You shrugged with one shoulder, a small smile letting him know it was okay.

The two of you were never meant to be. But you would always have the memory of what if.

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Fic Requests are closed until I get some more of them done but Headcanon requests are literally always open!

If you enjoyed this story please consider letting me know! Comments make my week and keep me motivated. ♥

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[spacechip707]

Can you please do #60 for Seven/MC with a lot of fluff? c: (I like embarrassed Seven so if you don't mind can you do that?) I love your writing! It gives me so much happiness and makes me smile whenever there's a new chapter. Thank you so much for that!

I hope this is enough fluff for your sweet tooth! :) and Thank you, anon! It makes me happy that my writing brightens your day:) 

Prompt #60: You are my sunshine

 One would think that it would be the power outage that sent the RFA into absolute chaos inside Jumin’s penthouse. But no…it was three little words.

“Wait…where’s Seven?”

Yoosung noticed his disappearance first, but Jumin reacted before the question even left the blond’s mouth. With a sigh, you watched the scene erupt into something worthy of the best sitcom. You lifted your phone and started recording from your place on the kitchen island. Jaehee was trying to calm Jumin, who was frantically looking for his beloved cat. Meanwhile, Zen was howling with complaints about said cat. And lastly, Yoosung sat in the middle of the floor, head held in his hands, and regret exuding from his very body.

After half a minute, you saved the video and sent it to the culprit.

MC: Look what you’ve done.

You didn’t have to wait long for a response. You opened it, expecting a string of emojis…perhaps a detailed plan…an invitation to join him. Your fingers trembled at the prospect of all the fun you would have with your partner in crime.

707: Haha…Sry

You deflated. His response was so…lifeless.You hovered your thumbs over the keyboard, preparing some sort of reply. But worry squelched any of your enthusiastic answers.

MC: Where are you?

You waited a few minutes, the sinking feeling in your chest growing worse with every second. He couldn’t have gone far. You chewed on your bottom lip as you once again turned to the disorder unfolding in front of you. No one there would be of any help.

You hummed quietly at the phone, sending the same text in case it didn’t go through. A faint ding echoed in the distance. An idea sprung in your mind. Seven would probably make you pay for the flood of notifications, but…when had his threats stopped you before?

You sent one text…then another…and another…all the while, straining your ear over the clamor to listen for the source. It took you awhile to find him. Not only was Jumin’s house large, but some of the hallways weren’t as lit in the outage, and you got lost one or two times. But finally, your long string of texts and your phone’s flashlight led you to a spare coat closet in the middle of the main hallway. Your knuckles had barely hit the wood when you heard Seven’s exasperated cry.

“Elly! Move away from my–ouch!”

You cringed at Elizabeth’s hiss. “Er–Seven? You okay?”

He squeaked and suddenly went silent. Your lips twitched downwards. Was he avoiding you? In a bout of spite, you called his phone. You crossed your arms as the nyan cat theme song drifted from the closet.

The door  opened slowly. You flinched when what you assumed to be Elizabeth tickled your leg as she darted to freedom. In the dim light, you could see Seven giving you a sheepish grin. He was about to step out of the closet, but for some reason, you thought it would be a good idea to push him back in and join him, closing the door behind you.

“Oh, MC, such a bold move,” he sung. “I didn’t know you felt so strongly about me.”

Your face burned at his coy remark, but you suppressed your embarrassment. You shined your phone light onto him, making him squint. “What the heck are you doing in here?”

“Well, I was trying to fix the outage,” he said, gesturing to the open panel at the back of the closet. “But then, one thing led to another, and Elly got in and sat on my phone, and then she scratched me–”

He pulled up his sleeve, revealing the thin lines of blood streaking his arm. You winced, but you were pretty sure he deserved it. After all, the door was closed after Elizabeth seemed to have gotten in.

Seven sweeped his own phone off the ground and flopped back onto the floor in front of the panel. “But as you can see, I’m fine. You should go back to the others. Send me more videos.”

You were unfazed by the fake, exuberant responses. Even in the poor, combined light of both of your phones, you could see his brows twitching as he pretended to concentrate on the panel.

You sat down and stared straight at him. At first, there was no reaction. He continued to maneuver his fingers across various wires, pulling some here and there. But then, his actions grew more restless. Glancing at you from the side of his eyes…ruffling his hair in frustration…and finally twisting his entire body to face you.

He calmly crossed his legs and folded his hands in his lap. “Okay, spill it. What’s wrong?”

“I’m here to ask you that,” you returned.

He raked a hand through his curls. “I already told you–”

His last words were interrupted when you pinched his cheeks harshly. He whined as you tugged his face back and forth. “Don’t lie to me, Seven. I know you too well,” you said, keeping your tone slightly playful knowing he might just avoid talking about whatever was bothering him.

He grabbed your hands and pried them off of his face. He pinned them together before you continued your torture. “Nothing. It has nothing to do with the RFA or you.”

You pursed your lips, not satisfied with his answer. Still, you didn’t want to intrude past your limits. You were always careful with your distance… not because he was “Mr. Dangerous” as he insisted, but he seemed to open up to you a lot more lately. You were terrified that one day you’d push him too far, and he’d retreat further into himself. You weren’t sure you could handle that. As much as you were scared to admit it, the bright–albeit sometimes loud–hacker had weaseled his way into your heart.

“Rough day at work?” you ventured.

He gave an affirmative grunt, finding a sudden fascination with your fingers. Warmth spread through your cheeks as the pad of his thumb ran down your palm with surprising gentleness. “I just…needed a few moments to myself. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

You hummed in understanding. Although, your chest ached a little seeing his lips downturned in a distressed frown. You cleared your throat, snatching his attention. “Well, then, Defender of Justice, I offer my services to rid you of your sorrows for a small fee.”

“What’s that?” he responded. Even those two words were heavy-laden with an unknown affliction.

You extracted your hands from his before placing a finger on either side of his mouth. You pulled upwards. Laughter spilled from your lips as you observed his confused and ridiculous smile you had enforced. “You have to give me one of these! A genuine one.”

“Hey!” he said, though his muffled admonition only made you laugh more. Again he grasped your hands in his lap. He pressed his lips in a fine line. His eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward conspiratorially. “Anything?”

You nodded, knowing there was a chance you might regret leaving yourself to his command. 

He clicked his tongue and leaned back against the wall. “Okay, then…do an impersonation of Elly.”

You smirked before swiping your nails across his exposed arm. He yelped and jumped back. He shot you a disgruntled scowl before muttering, “Touché.”

He snatched your phone and his from the ground and turned off the flashlight. You two were now completely engulfed in darkness. “Uh…Seven?”

“Next thing,” he went on, his voice still in front of you. “I’m placing our phones in a corner. Find them.”

You hesitated at the request. It was far too easy. After all, the closet wasn’t that large to begin with. You reluctantly crawled on all fours patting around the corner to your left. Then suddenly, two arms wrapped around you from behind, pulling you back before you realized what was happening. “Got you!” he cheered.

Seven’s fingers danced up and down your sides, causing peals of laughter to erupt from your mouth against your will. He didn’t stop until you were out of breath and gasping for air. His own laughter joined yours, and you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face.

“Payment received,” you said. “Hope you’re satisfied.”

His arms tightened around you, and the scruff of his hair tickled your neck as he squeezed you in his embrace. “You’re my sunshine. You know that?”

If anyone else had said it to you, you would’ve dismissed it as the cheesiest statement on the earth. But with Seven? You couldn’t stop your head from spinning.

Then, in the midst of the darkness, something soft feathered against your lips. If his words lit  a flame inside your chest, his kiss sent a wildfire scorching through your veins.

He pulled away abruptly, his arms loosening their grip around you. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” he blurted. “I-I meant to kiss your cheek, but I couldn’t see and–Gah! Why did I even do that? You probably hate me, right? Do you want to slap me? Would that make you feel better–”

You silenced him simply by reaching out your hand and placing your fingers where you thought his face was. You traced along his features until the tip of your thumb reached his lips. A gulp slid down his throat, and you felt the warmth of his breath as he parted his mouth.

“Seven…” you hesitated. Your hand drifted from his face, and your fingers curled against his chest. Your body seemed to be pulled by an invisible string, drawing closer and closer out of its own volition.

Once again, your lips met with all the hesitance from before. Then, a spark and all was aflame. You lost yourself in bliss, only aware of him.

How he pressed into the kiss…how his hands pulled you against him as he deepened it…how he cupped the back of your neck…the feeling of his racing heart under your fingers…the sweet taste on his mouth…the light flooding into the room…

No wait.

You jumped apart, and Seven unceremoniously shoved you off his lap. Fluorescent light shone from the doorway, casting a shadow into the previously completely dark closet. You turned to see a silhouette of a tall man in the doorway, his ponytail swinging behind him.

“G-guess the power came back on?” you said, a nervous chuckle escaping your throat.

Zen glared down at you two–well, mostly Seven. The latter clambered to his feet, and you followed suit.  “C-calm down, Zen,” Seven said with hands raised in surrender. “I can explain.”

The older man exhaled shakily, a strained smile plastered to his face. “MC…I think you should join the others and continue the meeting. Seven will be there soon.”

You turned to the red head who had turned several shades paler, despite the flush on his cheeks. You patted it gently. “I’m sure he’s just teasing,” you reassured.

He didn’t seem so hopeful. You exited the scene before you made things worse for him.You stopped in the empty kitchen and pressed a hand to your still thundering heart.

You weren’t sure what was going to happen next with Seven. Was it a mistake? Would he even accept you now? You didn’t know the answer to either. But, there was something hopeful blossoming inside of you. Perhaps the events of this evening would end in nothing. Or…perhaps it could end with…everything. Your chest was ready to burst at the prospect.

You glanced back in the direction of the small closet. But you supposed…Seven would have to make it past Zen alive first.