#and then i saw this in my box by coincidence while searching for something on here

[bopthecaptain]

Heyo! How's it going? (it's me remember hehehhehej)

YESSS ofc i remember you i hope you're doing well... i haven't really been posting on twitter or tumblr or anything really but i have been semi-active fandom wise still... college's just kicking me into the dirt rn but i cope with it Sisyphus boulder style

[danisbrainrot]

I love misty and you so... misty is obsessed with the reader and always making them little gifts, following them everywhere and trying to help with everything while the reader is going from "girl we talked like twice fuck off" to "that's creepy but actually kinda cute ig"

misty quigley x reader

OMG I LOVE THIS ACTUALLY!! misty in her joe goldberg era 🤭 I don't know how far you wanted me to go, so I'll keep this relatively sfw. if you want a nsfw version, just ask!!

slamming your locker open, you started ruffling through it in search of your textbook that was mysteriously missing, when a small box fell out. you paused what you were doing, crouching down to inspect it.

it was a plain plastic box, that contained a funky little smiley face ring in it. this wasn't the first gift you'd received that month, having found something different in your locker everyday. this one was just an odd surprise—you wondered how they knew you loved novelty rings. snorting while covering your mouth with your hand, you wasted no time slipping it on your finger with a grin.

your friend, mari, waved at you, ready to walk you to class when she noticed your new gift, "hey, where'd you get the ring?"

you shrugged, "found it in my locker. someone must have slipped it in? I'm not sure, but we're going to be late," you reply, finding the textbook and slamming the locker shut.

"isn't this like the fourth weird gift you've found this week? you might have a secret admirer!" mari teases, causing you to groan and roll your eyes.

the two of you head to class, not noticing misty who was hiding behind the wall, watching you the entire time. she smiled softly, glad you liked her little gift. she pulled out a notepad, placing a small tick next to 'cute jewellery.'

she followed you to class, having picked the same classes as you so you'd never leave her sight. you'd chosen to sit at the back with your friend, whereas misty was forced to sit at the front. she scowled and watched the clock all lesson until class finished.

not wanting to waste time, misty got to work making her next gift for you. she pulled out her notepad and saw the next gift idea was 'love letters'. flicking to a new page, misty neatly wrote your name in cursive, ready to start when she realised she didn't know what to say.

your laughter from the back of the room made misty perk up, finally sure what she wanted to write. she began scribbling frantically as she didn't want to forget any compliments.

when class finished, you walked past her and saw your name at the top of the page in her neat handwriting. your heart raced, not sure how to feel about it, before looking away and focusing on the conversation with mari. misty quickly tried to cover the letter as you walked past, not realising you'd already seen it.

you'd completely forgotten about misty's letter until the next day, when you'd opened your locker to find it neatly laid on top of your books. it freaked you out that she knew how to break into your locker—even wondering if she knew your combination or it was a coincidence that it landed perfectly.

turning around, your eyes scanned the hall—misty was nowhere in sight. a shiver creeped up your spine, knowing she could be watching you at any minute and you wouldn't know. slamming your locker shut, you didn't bother reading it.

watching from her hiding spot, she sighed, wondering why you didn't like her latest gift. she pulled out her notepad and crossed out 'love letters' and shoved it in her backpack. she quietly followed you, not realising you were heading for the bathroom. when she saw you walk in, her heart raced as she tried to make a quick decision—did she follow you and seem suspicious? or just head to your next lesson and wait for you?

seeing mari enter after you, she decided on the second option and ran to your next class. this time she managed to snag a seat at the back, able to see you perfectly no matter where you sat. however, when five minutes passed and you still weren't in class, she began to feel disappointment simmering in her stomach.

raising her hand in the air, the teacher called on her, "can I go to the toilet?" misty asked, the teacher nodded. she grabbed her stuff, stomping straight to the toilet she'd seen you in last. carefully opening the door, trying not to make a big sound she saw your feet under one of the stalls.

"mari? is that you?" you call out, hearing no other response, you huff. "do you have a pad? or a tampon?" misty lightened up, rustling through her bag and handing you a pad from under the door. "thanks," she smiled widely, wondering whether or not to say anything.

when misty heard you flush the toilet, she knew it had been too long to say anything, so you ran out of the toilet and back to class. she pulled out her notebook and added a new addition to her list 'pads'.

after school, you made your way to soccer practice. placing your stuff to the side of the field, you don't notice misty had approached you from behind. you almost jump in shock. "misty what the fuck," you hiss, clutching your heart.

"sorry, I just noticed you didn't bring your water bottle today," she explains, making you scrunch your nose in confusion—she almost fainted at the sight. you began ruffling through your bag, swearing you'd brought it, but failing to find it. "here! I always bring bottled water as a backup?"

you accept it graciously, smiling at her—a good effort considering you were still frustrated from losing your old bottle. waving goodbye to her before running on to the field, she searched her bag to see if your water bottle was still there—when her hand wrapped around it, she smiled.

misty didn't have time to add 'water' to the list, since she was the equipment manager both coaches needed her. but once practice was finished, she made sure to tick the latest discovery.

watching your sweaty body pour the bottled water over your face made her stomach tingly, as she tried to ignore the hot feeling you gave her. she had a mission to complete, now was not the time to let her hormones crowd her thoughts.

misty approaches you and van, "hey! I found your water bottle," she announces, holding it out for you.

your heart sinks, as you send van a nervous glance. van struggles to hold back her laughter, as you give misty a strained smile. "thank you. . . where did you find it?"

"your bag?" van teases.

"no!" misty cries, readjusting her glasses, "it was in one of the sports bags. you must have accidentally thrown it in last practice," she lies perfectly. you pretend you believe her, trying to get out of the conversation.

snatching the bottle out of her hand, you shove it in your bag. "that's a nice ring," misty compliments, you look down at it, then back at her suspiciously.

"did you get it for me?" you ask nervously, heart racing as you did. she nodded her head eagerly, making you feel sick. "what the fuck, misty?" noticing how awkward it had become, van excused herself and left the two of you alone—making you uncomfortable. "are you like, stalking me or something? why do you keep giving me things? it's weird!"

misty readjusts her glasses again nervously, "I'm just not. . . i—um, it's because—"

"seriously, you need to fuck off, this is so creepy," you reply. turning on your heel, you power walked far away from her, leaving the blonde dejected.

misty stomped to the equipment shed, trying to think of ways to get you to love her. coach ben entered, trying his best to avoid her gaze, but it was too late, "coach, how do I get the person I like to like me back?"

he stared at her oddly, "um. . . I'm not sure, misty. maybe find something they like?"

"I tried that!" she complains.

he shrugged, "I don't think this is a conversation we should be having," he replies.

misty groans in frustration, "okay coach," she whispers sarcastically, stomping out of the shed. she was in a foul mood and nothing could stop it.

over the next couple of days, it was relatively quiet. you didn't receive any more trinkets, which surprisingly made you upset. you missed the little gifts misty left in your locker—but mostly, you felt guilty for yelling at her. she was just being nice and you were a bitch to her.

that's why, during lunch, you approached her where she usually sat. misty was crouched over her notepad, scribbling on it. sitting next to her, "I'm sorry for yelling at you," you whisper, making her jump.

"jesus! you scared me," she replies, before smiling when she realised it was you. "oh. . . it's okay," you look at what she was writing and noticed your name was on the top of the page.

you bumped her shoulder with your own, "what're you writing?" you tease, causing her to blush a deep crimson. she passed the note to you, letting you read it. it was a long apology for being 'creepy'. you giggle, biting your lip. "you didn't have to do this, I should be the one apologising," she shrugs.

"it was weird," she whispers, looking at the ground.

you place your fingers under her chin, forcing her to look at you. "it was sweet. I see that now," you assure her. to make it sink, you lean in and softly press your lips against hers. sending her nerves into overdrive, misty gets eager and responds by kissing you back harder—almost devouring your lips. you don't mind, however, it's nice to be hungered for.

—💌—

25 years later

slotting your key in the lock, you turn it until you hear the satisfying click and shove the door open. trudging through the hall, you end up in the kitchen and place the groceries on the bench. your phone rings, and you smile when you see your girlfriend's face. "hey, did you check the fridge," misty asks, making you pause.

you froze, wondering what she was talking about. leaving the phone on the counter, opening the fridge door and seeing a cupcake on one of the trays. you bit your bottom lip while smiling, picking up the phone. "thank you, my love. did you make it yourself?"

"of course, I know how much you love my gifts," she replies, you snort loudly and bring the treat to your lips, taking a bite out of it and moaning in delight.

misty waited patiently on the other side of the line, blushing when she heard the sound come out of your mouth. "it's delicious, thank you, misty," you compliment.

"it's to make up for being late tonight, I'm sorry," she sighs, and you hear typing sounds on the other end of the phone.

you smile widely, "don't worry about it. if anything, it'll make your surprise easier to plan," you tease—practically hearing her ears perk up.

she thanks you quickly, explaining that it was getting busy at work. you use this to get started on the gift you were preparing for her.

"I'm home!" misty called out, closing the door behind her. when she was greeted by silence, she frowned. you always met her at the door, placing a kiss on her cheek.

sniffing the air, she smelt her favourite dinner being prepared and her stomach practically growled. misty walked into the kitchen with a beaming smile on her face.

you turn around, a cute little apron on and a spatula in hand. "hey! you said you were working late," you complain, pouting at her.

she shrugs, "sorry, they let me go because someone could cover the rest of my shift," misty explains. you smile, walking towards her and wrapping your arms around her neck. you claim her lips with your own, and she can taste the flavours from dinner.

"I figured that you always give me sweet gifts, it's time for me to return the favour. it was low key creepy in the beginning, but now it's cute. thank you," you whisper. she eagerly smashes her lips on yours, backing you against the counter. you giggle into the kiss, wrapping your legs around her waist and jumping up on the bench.

the dinner sizzled, as it was starting to burn, but the two of you didn't care, too absorbed by each other.

[sereinreality]

making a luis lives au and having it lead up to re6 so i just want to write down my ideas so far

- ada saves him without a shadow of a doubt. somehow, someway, she gets him off the island and takes him to a hospital to heal while she spends those next couple of months making plans. when luis is properly healed, she would offer one of two options; either work with her or she’ll leave him some things but they have to keep little to no contact. luis obviously goes for the first choice.

- they definitely bond over the course of time they work together from re5 to re6. i like to think their similar backgrounds, history, and goals bring them closer together. luis would always try to find a reason to throw festivities, he’s very insistent on celebrating ada’s birthday or any holiday.

- luis’s nickname for ada is “mariposa” she rolls her eyes every time he says it but she genuinely loves it

- they do a lot of moving around which means time to kill and lots of stories. luis likes to play a game where he tells a story and ada has to guess wether it actually happened or he just made it up. most of the time he’s lying but argues “you never know! maybe someday it will be true!” it makes ada smile. luis tries to make her smile as often as he can.

- luis didn’t change in terms of making jokes. he figures there’s no point in falling to despair when you’ve been given your last chance so he makes the most of it. it annoyed ada at first, thinking that luis wasn’t taking this seriously but upon closer inspection, she realized he’s grown way more cautious than before. she excused some of the teasing after that but never backed down from some back and forth

- ada and luis are like soulmates in the way that they are two sides of the same coin. where there’s one, you’ll find the other. they are connected by coincidence but they treasure it. more than anything, it’s a deep understanding between them. everything they did to survive, to get out of their respective situations, the choices they made, and the loneliness they felt. luis swears that as long as he lives, ada will never feel alone again. ada says likewise. both of them mean it with their whole heart.

- under NO circumstances can leon learn that luis survived. it’s a depressing truth they both understand that if leon got the smallest hint of luis’s survival that he would begin a manhunt to find him. they have too much work being carried out that cannot be compromised. that doesn’t stop luis from searching for leon’s name in government files or papers, he keeps up to date with anything where he’s involved. what can he say? the knight misses his prince.

- that being said leon does not handle post valdelobos very well. he still has luis’s lab key which he keeps in a box tucked away somewhere. sometimes the smell of smoke brings him back to spain and the mines where he lost someone he’s grown so close to in just a small amount of time. it shouldn’t break him as much as it does but it’s something that stays in the back of his mind. leon feels like he missed something. that there was an opportunity open to him that he failed to see, it could have been something but now he’ll never know. the door shut in his face just when leon realized what was being offered to him.

- once he saw don quixote displayed on a bookstore window with a lovely red cover and bought it immediately. it sits on his shelf collecting dust, leon hasn’t had time to read it or so he says.

- the trio do reunite in re6 but more importantly, luis catches wind of some of the stunts leon had been pulling and their first interaction after years was luis marching up to leon as he backs into a wall. luis is shouting in spanish, probably complaining about leon not prioritizing his own safety, then switching to english so he can yell in a language leon understands. it was here that he catches leon’s face. he’s so much older now, worn out like leather. leon looked exhausted but he also seemed so amazed? confused? whatever it was, he looked softer now and his eyes widen a little. he simply says, “you’re alive?”

[tarttheart]

PRECIOUS LOVE: CHAPTER 5 - JAMIE TARTT x YOU

summary: the cat is out the bag.

word count: 840 words

warnings: language, sexual references

-

chapter 5: got so distracted

Rebecca was a miracle worker. She empathised in a way you did not think anyone would ever, she said all the right things and you swore a part of your soul healed up just from being in her presence. And, Rebecca must have liked you too because you found herself being sucked into her life as well.

You really appreciated and loved these women in your life. Truly and genuinely, you did. Growing up, your two sisters were both over a decade older than her and your parents were too busy with their careers to pay you much heed. So, Keeley and Rebecca’s presence was something you been seeking out in life, especially after your grandparents’ passing. To have them enter your life like this was such a godsend. But, it would be remiss of you not to acknowledge the risk you accepted in letting them be around. They were too close. You were getting too close. You were going to become Icarus, flying too close to the sun.

You gulped down the wine trying to quiet the voice in your head. You knew it was right. You knew you were getting pulled more and more into the AFC Richmond world you were so desperately avoiding. You had already turned down numerous invites to the owner’s box, finding it hard to laugh when Keeley jokingly suggested meeting and shagging one of the fit footballers in the team to move forward. Then, there was the charity gala. You counted your lucky stars that it coincided with a work trip that had already been scheduled. But, Keeley’s birthday party. That had been impossible to avoid.

“You’ll come, yeh?” Keeley asked.

You hummed evasively in response and Keeley groaned loudly, flopping over on the couch.

“Oi, it’s my fucking birthday, yeh. And, you’re one of my best friends, yeh. So, I’m going to need you to pull on your big girl knickers and not avoid everything football-related. You are going to be there. Rebecca is swinging by to pick you on her way.”

You could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand and you blinked back tears. Of course you wanted to go. Of course you wanted to be there for Keeley. But, it was also pretty much guaranteed that the one person you had done a stellar job of avoiding for years would be there. Everything you had done for yourself felt like it would crumble.

Nevertheless, when the day of the party rolled around, you dressed up in what little fun clothes you had and went along. Surely, you could duck out before Jamie even arrived, right?

“You’re a ball of panic,” Rebecca observed as you fidgeted constantly by the bar while waiting for the bartender to pour the drinks.

“Yea. I’ll be okay. I’ll be okay,” you repeated, more to convince yourself than anyone else.

Rebecca raised a brow, grabbing your arm supportively, “I’m not sure what’s going on with you right now but I’m here for you. Keeley is here for you.”

You looked at her and Rebecca registered the tears that had formed in your eyes, “Thanks, Rebecca, I might leave early.”

“We’ve got you,” Rebecca repeated, pulling you into a comforting hug.

-

Rebecca and Keeley were anything but silly so you were not sure how you had managed to fool them for as long as you did. But, the gig was up today.

The three stood in a corner, drinking champagne and making merry. You had consumed enough alcohol to feel relaxed enough to enjoy the evening, forget about your plans to duck out and forget about Jamie. Until, you saw him in the flesh making his way towards the three of you. Of course he would, it was Keeley’s birthday.

Your expression hardened and you paled visibly, worrying Rebecca and Keeley.

“Everything good there, babes?”

You gulped, blinking at Keeley, “yea, I’m all right, I’m okay.”

You laughed awkwardly as you looked around, searching for an escape.

Keeley turned to see what might have spooked you and it clicked when she saw Jamie wave and slowly make his way towards the three of you.

Keeley turned back, “oh my god. Oh. My. God. It was Jamie, wasn’t it?”

“Pardon?” Rebecca asked, not quite following Keeley’s train of thought.

But they had their answer when you polished off your glass, slammed it down harder than you meant to and muttered, “I have to go.”

“Manchester, you were in Manchester when Jamie was there. The dad, it was Jamie. It’s not football you’re avoiding, it’s Jamie.”

“I have to go,” you repeated more firmly as you turned to stumble away from the group. Your world was spinning and you did not know whether it was the alcohol or the panic attack. You crouched down outside, back against a tree, struggling to breathe.

You really only had a minute or two to yourself before Rebecca was there, pulling you into a steadying embrace.

“You’re okay.”

Tears streamed down your face as you quietly sobbed.

-

< chapter 4 | master list | chapter 6 >

[tejvirani]

Methodical and quietly reverent in her examination, and Akhila swept Tej in as if he'd been expected all along. A floppy bracelet without a crystal lost some of its mystery. Akhila manipulated the piece around a multitude of bones, concerned more about the alignment of skeletal remains than the unwanted jewelry they'd all been shackled with.

He smiled at her comment, fast and thin-lipped. "My bedside manner sucks anyway." Probably true, but countless hours had been spent on wondering how life would've been different if his parents lived. "You?" Spoken from experience? "Did you always know you'd go into medicine."

Twelve bodies found. Signs, symbols, and numbers grabbed his attention, a thing to make note of, if only for himself. Then, a clarification. "I was checking out where the hornets dug, where the bodies were found. Someone pointed it out." Tucked so deep in a corner of the pit, Tej had to almost climb inside himself to see. As close as he came to the hole in the rock.

"I was helping Darcy search for the missing and we found a huge ass hornet. With a ton of little tv screens that flashed images at us. The hornets digging here. The tunnels we were in, me and Darcy. Then, I guess the one inside the pit. Not where it led or anything." And people, and Benji. Other strange objects and places that barely registered when he and Darcy were running for their lives.

Burials, cremations. Tej thought of the time he and his sister peered into the box of their mother's remains. Her 'boyfriend' at the time of his mother's death never bothered for an urn. This is what his mind wandered over as Akhila asked that he grab something to draw with. Items he hadn't seriously held in forever. "Mm. We saw images of Darcy's brother. Which, I knew him. Never met Darcy until now, but. Knew her brother Benji well. Doesn't feel like a coincidence either."

He returned with a notepad and pencil, both bearing the tagline of the decaying cruise ship, 'Take an Odyssey beyond the horizon!'. Akhila tossed out comminuted fracture, and other unknown words. Tej began to sketch. Did his best with spelling he assumed Akhila could easily correct later. "Whoa whoa, navicular what?"

One didn't need detailed deciphering of anatomical labels to figure out what she looked at. "Broken legs?" In pieces. "So they couldn't run, I guess." Oh, fantastic.

Then Tej froze along with his scribbling hand, lips parted in a silent shock for a few seconds.

"What is... is that oil over there?" Tej pointed at the piece of clothing Akhila dusted dirt from while he was distracted a few moments before with finding paper. The faint odor. The horse. "Holy fuck. Is that on everything, all the bodies?? Everything in the pit? Because I've seen this before. In Lokni's camp."

Akhila worked slowly, taking her time to ease bones free of the rubber bracelet. It was identical to the one she wore, the one Tej presumably wore, but it bore no crystal. She slipped it into the plastic bag she’d numbered. Her gaze was pried from the remains to Tej as he made a quiet remark. She huffed a laugh through her mask but said nothing as he followed it with a tidbit of past. He was an artist then, of some description. “Following in their footsteps is rarely a wise choice.” Akhila mused.

“It’s hard to tell what the final number will be. Not all bodies were entirely intact. I believe there’re 12 in here, that does not account for them all.” Some had been so carelessly tossed into the pit bodies had entangled together blurring the lines from one soul to another. “Wait––” Akhila paused at peeling back the remaining chunk of what had once been a shirt from a bared ribcage. “You think you saw the tunnel?” The tunnel was an unexplored avenue that had slipped on her priority list. She ought to message Alex.

“Find out why and how they died. Salvage anything that could tell us about who they were. Then…well I suppose that’s up for everyone else to decide. Do we rebury them as we found them, elsewhere or cremate.” Akhila would respect their eventual wishes.

Akhila lay the piece of clothing flat it was slick and tarred with what appeared to be oil. Dirt clung despite her best efforts to brush it clean. The John Doe themself exhibited a compound fracture of the humeral shaft. She gingerly picked bone up, glasses perched on the edge of her nose as she studied the break for signs of healing. “If you’re artistically inclined, could you make notes, drawings, whatever is fastest.” Akhila’s hand quivered as she held the arm aloft. “What else did you see on the hornets screen? Note down John Doe 1 a post-mortem humeral shaft fracture.” 

She turned her attention to their feet, or what remained of them. It was evident this had happened prior to death. “Comminuted fracture…” Akhila bowed down to confirm her suspicions with loupes flicked down. “Prior to death…severe trauma to tibia, navicular and lateral cuneiform.” 

[lu-morningstar]

The One Breaking My Heart III - Chris Evans [Series]

𝒔���𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

pairing: Chris Evans x younger!female!reader

warnings: angst no fluff, age gap, mention of alcohol, taylor swift's song references, parallels to p1, Chris pov, bad words

a/n: tysm for waiting all this time for this long-awaited ending to the series, it took a long time bc I wasn't happy with what I wrote and I was also busy. Please enjoy it and let me know what you think in the comments or on my ask box.

Feedback, comments, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated <3

Chris pressed the red button, feeling relief as he searched for your contact on his phone. It turned out that the news of this Twitter mess was a coincidence and not a twisted misunderstanding with his P.R. management.

Should I call her, or not? She might be going crazy over this. But, will she pick?

A minute later, he was on the couch, waiting for you to answer him. He thought you were going to after many hearing the beeps, but you did at the end.

"Hey, thanks for picking up. How are you?" He said, not knowing what to say to you. He honestly thought you wouldn't answer his call after how things ended last time.

"Honestly, Chris, I feel awful." he heard your voice, tired, a bit rough with a hint of faux calmness, mixed with a rushed breath. It was like your mind was going a thousand kilometers per hour through the call. However, it was nice to listen to you, even if it wasn't for something good. He just needed to for one more time, scared he would never be able to do it again. "I... have you seen what's going on on Twitter?"

"Yes, I saw the pictures." with him. He wanted to add.

Who is he? Did she-Did she already move on?

"Yeah, there's a bunch of pics of me." He heard you say anxiously through the phone, omitting the guy part. "And they are in the same 24 hours. What if they were at the funeral? What if they are following me?" you now sounded angry; your nervousness was long gone.

"I don't think so, it wasn't L.A.," Chris said, running a hand over his forehead to his mop of hair, worried about you.

"But they did know where to find me, Chris. I can understand a restaurant, but outside of my building? Isn't that a privacy violation or something?"

"I think so, I'll check with my team. Can you try to exhale and inhale, please?" He asked you, getting up from the couch.

"Okay, but what if I get out of my apartment and there are people outside? I mean, you can't tell the street, but... Or what if they are in the restaurant and then they follow me?"

"Baby, I know they are not your cup of tea but they know that if they put your address is game over for them," Chris said while he was fixing his coat and moving to the kitchen to grab his keys. "Please breath, in and out." He added after listening to your frantic breath, grabbing the keys you left on his kitchen counter. The colorful pompom reminded him of the whole past week without you and of the fights with you leaving him. He put the keys in the coat's pocket and moved towards the front door, Dodger following him with a curious look, watching how his human-best friend opened and closed the door in a hurry.

"Okay, okay." you appeared to be moving due to your voice sounding a bit far away from the microphone. Chris was already on his way to you when he heard you say. "Okay, I'll calm down. Bye." He wanted to add he was on his way to you or at least a bye, but you, with your breathless voice, finished the call.

After ten minutes or so, he passed the park where you took Dodger for a walk, the cafe where you sometimes got breakfast before work, an old apartment complex whose paint always seemed to be peeling off, and a transited avenue, he finally made it to your building. He got in thanks to the porter and quickly pressed the button of your floor in the elevator. He reached your floor, made his way to your door, and knock a few times.

Chris anxiously waited with his hands on the coat's pockets for you to open the door. He heard unlocking sounds and then it was you standing in front of him instead of a piece of painted wood. You were surprised to see him, not even thinking he could get here after you finished the call you weren't even expecting to receive nor even answer.

"What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to check how you were doing and talk with you." You nodded as you played with your cuffs, avoiding his blue eyesight.

"Now you want to?" he heard you murmur, understanding what you meant. Your brows were slightly furrowed, framed by some strands of your loose hair.

"I know it's a long time coming-"

"Is it, Chris?"

"Yes, and I'm sorry it took too long. Can we talk, inside, please?" you turned around and made your way to the living room. He got in and closed the door before following your steps to find you sitting crisscrossed on the couch, your sleepers at the foot of the sofa, not matching the sweats and hoodie you were wearing. He thought you must have changed after arriving from work less than an hour ago and before freaking out from all the Twitter mentions. Hence the restless face, slightly distraught hair, and comfy look.

You silently looked at him when you sensed some sinking on the sofa and stared at the space left between you and Chris.

"Are you feeling better?" He asked after the silence was too hard to keep up. It was quiet, except for maybe the occasional car noise. You didn't want to talk to him, and he expected it after those fights. You did fight in the past, but it was never like this. It was never this serious. Would this be the last straw?

You slump your shoulders before answering him. "I mean, I can breathe properly now, but... They know where I eat and live, Chris. I'll have to find a new restaurant to have lunch on my break and a new place to live because I don't feel comfortable here."

Chris wasn't sure about what to say to you, knowing they'll do it again, making you feel worried about living your life again. Sometimes, he wished he didn't know you, but other times, Chris hoped he met you before. You need to do it before it's too late.

"I'm sorry, y/n," he said reaching for your hand, but you backed away from his attempt to touch you. What you once knew as a warm embrace was now a burning blaze, and he proved it the last time you saw him. That didn't mean it didn't hurt you to do it, but you didn't want pain, not now nor ever, and he was making you feel it lately. "I know I have been shitty this last week. What my friend said that day..." he was looking embarrassed, his eyebrows furrowed, a few wrinkles appearing on his forehead as he went back and remembered the dinner you planned for him. "It's not the first time I hear it. I know our age is always on the debate, but that really got into my head that night, because I see the numbers and think I'm restricting you from doing the things you should rather be doing." Chris finally admitted the thoughts that were clouding his mind for a while now. You looked at him in disbelief through your teary eyes. You wiped the few tears dripping down your face to your chin and neck with your hoodie sleeve. "And I should probably know better because I have been in this business for a while, but I'm sorry, y/n. I'll go back in time and change it, but I can't. I can't, and I'm sorry."

"You just can't help but make it about yourself, can you, Chris?" you say getting up from the couch.

"What?"

"You keep saying you are sorry, but you haven't admit it's your fault we are here."

"That's not what I-" he started saying getting up from the sofa and getting closer to you.

"It is! You are 'apologizing'," you made air quotes with your hands for emphasis. "but you are just giving me excuses, Chris. And I understand you feel bad, 'cause I do too when they say things about our age, but that doesn't excuse you from treating me awfully. You left me aside the whole night!

"I didn't do that."

"Yes, you did! I was there, Chris. Then, you try to make me feel bad about my age and kicked me out of your house like I was the one who said it, but you didn't tell anything when your friend did. You never comment on it to any of them or say anything when they leave me aside.

"They don't leave you aside."

"They do! They don't include me, and you do the same when you are with them. You forget about me."

"That's not true! And your friends do the same!

"That's because you don't even try to talk to them, not because they don't try! When I made dinner and invited them, your friends would barely acknowledge me, and then you just ignore me for them. It's like you are someone else with them. Like you don't even try for me anymore."

"Of course, I try, y/n. I'm here!"

"You are here because someone started a rumor, Chris! And if you knew me you would know that was my cousin whose mom just passed away. But you only care about yourself! " he stayed silent.

"Babe-"

"No, don't babe me, Chris!" you said leaning against the wall, the cold surface gave you chills. "You were right, we are not working," you murmured loud enough for him to hear in your empty apartment

"Y/N..."

"I just can't do this, Chris. I won't let you treat me badly and get away with a sorry. It's not what I deserve and definitely not what I want." you said as you passed him and reach for the door.

"I'll do better, y/n," he said trying to reach for your arm, but your hand was already on the door handle. "Please."

"Maybe you will, but not with me."

"Y/N/N..., please."

"No Chris." you shake your head in negation, big eyes ready to cry. You opened the door, gripping the door handle too hard, holding on to it because the feeling of falling was rather present for a few minutes now. "I just want you to get out of my house."

It was silent for a moment. Chris opened and closed his mouth a few times, but ultimately he decided not to say anything. You were clear, it was too late.

You closed the door once he was out, the salty acid-like tears finally coming down your face. A few minutes later, your unfocused eyesight caught your keychain somehow. You didn't need them anymore, you were never going to use them again.

My Masterlist

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[hyperfixated-gvf]

The Gift That Just Keeps Giving

On the fourth day of Tropemas, hyperfixated-gvf gave to me:

A smutty sex-toy find with switch!Sammy.

Christmas Song Pairing: “Ay Ay Ay It’s Christmas” by Ricky Martin

~~~

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Reader

Warnings: Language, smut, a tiny bit of begging, overstimulation

Words: 4.7k

Oh fuck.

It was the first thought that popped into your head when you saw Sam’s face.

Now usually, when your boyfriend came loping into your apartment, you had positive reactions. In fact, you couldn’t remember the last time that you weren’t happy he was there.

But now, a week before Christmas and just a day before he was set to fly home with his brothers to their family, you cursed a line in your head that would have made the devil blush. Because there he was, your sweet, excited, expectant boyfriend, standing in your kitchen with a professionally-wrapped gift box thrusted out at you like a two year old presenting their artwork –

And you had nothing.

What with work holiday parties, the last-minute family shopping, a surprise visit from your best friend, and trying to keep up with all the minute changes blasting through your phone outlining fluctuations from gifts to dishes being brought to dinner, flight times to rent drop-off methods – you’d become the worst kind of girlfriend, the one who forgot to buy a gift.

You swallowed, attempting to convince Sam that everything was great and fine while you raced to come up with a way to buy time.

“Sammy!” you said, admiring the box, “What an impressive looking gift-wrapping job – a big improvement since last year,” you teased. “Have you been practicing just for me?”

“Anything for you, baby,” he said with a wink.

You put yourself on your toes to lean over the gift and press a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you. Just put it on the counter over there.”

He reached over and slid it into place, slipping his long arms around you and giving you a quick peck. “So where’s my present?” he asked conspiratorially.

You grinned and pulled him into a deeper kiss, stroking your thumb down the tendon in his neck and licking into his mouth before pulling away and leaving him blinking at the abruptness of both the start and the end of the kiss.

He gripped your ass and pulled you back, searching for another kiss, and you had an idea. It seemed like a really great idea, too.

“You don’t want your present?” you asked him. His eyes lit up like…well, like a little kid’s on Christmas, and he scanned the room. You laughed. “It’s not here – I hid it in my room just to make it a little more interesting. You have to find it first.”

He grinned lasciviously. “Oooo, so it’s that kind of present. Will I find it in your underwear drawer? Or is it one of those that has to be hung up?”

You rolled your eyes, a smile still playing at your lips, though. “No, it’s not that kind of present. Now go, little doggy, go fetch. Find. Whatever,” you laughed, calling after him as he tore down the hall to your bedroom.

There was nothing in there that he hadn’t seen before, and it bought you more time. As soon as he was out of sight, you searched through your cabinets for something of his favorite – his favorite alcohol? Not a half-full bottle. There were no vegan chocolates left, no hot chocolate mix, no gift cards, no nothing.

Until you caught sight of a box hidden in the corner of the counter.

“You’ve either made this hard for me intentionally or you really need to clean your room,” Sam called.

“Take your pick, any pick!” you yelled back, and smiled at his resounding laughter.

You glanced over the cookies in the box – unbelieving of the coincidence that they just happened to be from your vegan co-worker – and picked out a brown paper grocery bag from its place, putting the cookies inside. You saw a pen and scrap post-it notes lying on the table and decided to add a few ‘sexual favor’ coupons – Sam had really appreciated those on his birthday.

Just as you were jotting down some fun things, Sam cried out, “Ah-ha! I found it! I should have known – you hide everything in your closet, but I will say under a random pile of clothes was a smart choice.”

You furrowed your brow, looking up from your scribbling. “What? But that’s not whe – SAM, NO! THAT’S NOT YOUR GIFT!” You abandoned everything and sprinted down towards the bedroom, face heating and hoping that he hadn’t lifted the lid off the box.

Your momentum took you around the doorframe with the help of your hand, and your groaned when you saw the delighted expression on his face, staring down into the grinch-print wrapped box.

“So it is that kind of gift.”

You shook his head, making your way over to him with the intent to take the gift out of his hands. “It’s not yours. My best friend came to see me the other day and she gave me this as a gag gift – she literally regifted it to me because her boyfriend regifted to her because he got it as a gag gift from a friend.”

He saw you coming and held the box up and out of your reach, teasing you. “And now you’ve regifted it to me, and I intend to keep it, babe. Or are you telling me that my gift is somewhere else?”

You continued to jump around Sam, attempting to poke all his sensitive spots to get the box out of his hands. “Yes, it’s in the kitchen –”

“So you sent me on a wild goose chase, why?” His tone was unbearably arrogant. With a grace that you didn’t know he possessed, he set the box on your nightstand and backed you up with his body, your feet stumbling and shoulders colliding with a wall.

“Because,” you whined, trying to tickle him off of you. He fished for your wrists and you wriggled, but he caught them and pinned them to the wall behind you.

“Because why, baby? That’s a perfectly good gift, what could be better?”

“Cookies,” you said, staring defiantly into his amused eyes, “and…coupons. Like the ones you got for your birthday.”

“I didn’t see any gifts when I came in, you aren’t lying to me, are you?”

“No,” you scoffed, lying. “I hid them.”

“This isn’t adding up,” Sam said, getting closer and crowding into your space, looking down at you. “You have a gift, I ask for it, and you send me on a scavenger hunt for another gift that doesn’t exist. What were you doing in there while I was searching?”

He was catching on – the man was intelligent like that. “Finishing touches,” you said again, this time telling the truth – you were, technically, just on a present that hadn’t existed before the finishing touches were made.

Sam hummed, unconvinced. “It’s not because you forgot to get me a present, is it, baby? Or did you want me to find that gift?” His voice softened and lowered, and he pushed his knee between your thighs. The tension had started when you’d danced your way into a wall. Heightened when he’d taken your wrists captive. And was starting to peak – at least you’d thought.

“No.”

“To which one?”

You sighed. “I forgot. The cookies were a gift from my vegan co-worker as a Secret Santa gift, and I was planning on giving them to you anyways, so I threw in a couple of vouchers and called it a day.” He rolled his thigh against your core, and you felt the first wisps of arousal begin to form. “I’d completely forgotten about that one,” you said, nodding to the box.

“Well then, because you neglected to think of your poor, loving boyfriend this Christmas, I think it’s only fair that I get two gifts.”

You laughed softly. “I think that depends on if you’re counting how many individual items are in each gift – because then, you’d be getting four.”

He tilted his head, letting your wrists go and cupping your face, giving you a steady kiss. “Oh yeah? I deserve them, then.” His eyebrows furrowed then. “Wait, four? I thought you said you only put the coupons and the cookies in the kitchen present.”

Your grin widened when you realized he hadn’t taken a good look at the gift your friend had left for you. “The gift you found in the closet was a couples set, Sam. You didn’t see the other vibrator in there?”

He immediately disengaged himself from you, picking the box back off the nightstand and taking the ‘for her’ part of the gift out – a small, plastic, neon green bullet vibrator – and laughed uproariously at the ‘for him’ part: a matching neon-green vibrating cock ring.

“This is the best gag gift ever,” he said, examining the small piece of rubber, the vibrating motor encased in the same material at the top of the ring. There was a tiny switch on the exposed side to turn it on and off, and Sam curiously flicked it on, lighting up at the vibrations that carried around the object before turning it back off again. “The battery can’t be larger than a few coin batteries – there’s no way this thing was designed to go for a long time.”

You picked the vibrator that he’d tossed onto the bed and set it aside. “Here for a good time, not a long time. It looks cheaply made, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was only meant to be used once. A disposable cock ring,” you giggled.

Sam nodded, stretching the rubber out between a few fingers, still analyzing it. “A good idea. Get ‘em hooked and they’ll buy a good one. Won’t this also be for your pleasure?” he asked, and you flushed at the non-negotiable way he said it – he was going to use it, there was no question in his mind about it. “The way the motor is mounted, that’s gonna go straight to your clit, baby,” he mused, voice roughing as you assumed the mechanics of it started manifesting as images in his mind. “Only one way to find out.”

He set the cock ring down and started undoing the buttons that were done up on his shirt, throwing it off his body and leaving him in his high-waisted pants. He glanced over at you, watching him intently from your spot on the bed, still fully dressed and wearing a small smirk.

“Enjoying the show?” he asked, and you leaned back, drawing patterns high on your covered thigh.

“Immensely. Keep going, baby, show me whatcha got,” you leered, and Sam made a performance of swinging his hips around and shaking his ass in your direction.

“Gonna stuff some bills in my boxers?” he said, unbuttoning his pants and sliding them off. You laughed and finally stood up, rucking your hands under your shirt. “Hey,” he interrupted, taking your hands in his once more, “I wanna unwrap the rest of my gift.”

You rolled your eyes at the cliché. “Dork,” you said as he brought you closer to him, your hands wandering up his bare torso since the opportunity had presented itself. His hands smoothed up your sides and brought your shirt up with them.

“Maybe, but this dork is still the one taking your shirt off right now.”

You conceded the point, and reached behind you to unclasp your bra, his hands immediately cupping your breasts as soon as they were exposed. They didn’t stay there long, instead choosing to finish the job and slip your pants off of you.

With both of you left in your underwear, he kissed you deeply and backed you into the bed, where the normal vibrator was set conveniently nearby on the mattress. When you saw Sam reach for it, your heart picked up.

“So we’re really gonna use them?” you asked, looking up at him with a flushed face. His fingers reached down to stroke you over your panties, one of them slipping under the fabric and collecting the wetness that was beginning to gather there.

He wiped it on the tip of the vibrator, a smile playing at his lips and nothing but desire lurking in his eyes. “Doesn’t seem like you’re too opposed to it, after all.”

“Never said I was opposed to it,” you challenged. “I’m no stranger to vibes. They do the job.” His eyes twitched wide at the confession and he straddled your waist, looking down at you with a calculating expression.

“Oh? And how is it the first time I’m hearing about this?”

You shrugged. “Never need it when you’re here, but when you’re away, my fingers get boring.”

He groaned at the mental image and shifted his hips into yours, demonstrating just how hot he found it. “Yeah? Do you need to use it often? Where is it? And how have I not found it?”

You were tempted to meet his movement and grind up into him, but instead, you ignored his questions and took the vibrator out of his hand, turning it on; the mechanical buzzing was much louder than you were used to and seemed to you to be amplified by the garish color. Sam watched, mystified, as you put the plastic to your lips and dragged it down your neck, making a path across your collarbone and then dipping down to circle your nipples.

You were making the whole ordeal much more dramatic than you would have if you were alone, but when using a couple’s vibe set, you figured it was only hot if you acted like there was someone watching you – which there was, you didn’t have to act, and it made you feel powerful having all of Sam’s attention and arousal in your hands.

The moan that came out of your mouth was in part performance, but also because you didn’t usually play with your nipples all that much – alone, you preferred to get right to the main event, and with Sam, well, nipples were his job. You found yourself squirming away from the sensation and let your hand travel down to where Sam was pressed against you, separated by the barrier of your underwear.

He flinched at the first press of the vibe against your clit over your underwear, pressing against him in the process with his proximity, but then moaned and thrusted into it, eyes fluttering.

“Holy fuck, Y/N, I don’t fucking blame you for using one of these – that feels fucking phenomenal.”

You almost giggled – it didn’t occur to you that Sam would be into toys too – you had always thought of him as an ‘all-natural, spit or a little lube and a hand will do the job’ kinda guy. But now that you had this information –

“My vibe is a little bigger,” you said, pushing into the shared sensations, “it’s black and it has a bunch of different speeds and vibration patterns. I hide it in the back of one of the bathroom drawers when you’re here and use it pretty often when you aren’t – takes care of me just like you do.”

You moaned when Sam took the toy out of your hand and slipped it underneath your panties to settle it against your core and started fucking a rhythm into both you and the vibrator that surprised you with the speed in which it made coil of your orgasm grow.

“How often? How often when I’m gone, Y/N?” he grunted, every nuance just as if he were actually fucking you.

His enthusiasm did something for you, and you keened, pressing up against his thrusts while trying not to displace the vibrator. “All the time – not every night, but almost,” you answered, searching for your peak.

He groaned at your admission, stopping his movement and yanking your panties down, picking up the still-buzzing toy from where it fell, and guided it more deliberately against you, circling your clit and dipping down to rest at your entrance and then back up with more pressure.

“Slave to your pleasure? Don’t worry, I’m gonna make you cum, baby, then we’ll get the other part and try it out, too.”

The thought of Sam with a vibrating cock ring wrapped around his base sent goosebumps racing up and down your arms. “Please, I can’t – ahh, oh fuck – I can’t fucking wait, baby,” you told him, hips responding to each vibration in growing intensity the closer you got to the edge.

Sam leaned up, keeping up the pressure and movement of the vibe, to kiss your breath right out of your lungs. You gasped every time he let you up, only to be dragged back into the depths of his mouth, tongues sliding against each other, teeth catching other teeth and lips, faces smushed together, sharing air.

“I’m so close, Sam,” you whimpered, teetering precariously. Sam dug the vibrator upwards and directly into your clit, repeating the action in a fast rhythm, and you were gone. Your heels planted into the sheets and you strained your pelvis up, into the vibe and then away, from one side to the other, and then your thighs clenched together, Sam’s hand and the vibe trapped between them – the vibrations dulled from the pressure.

Sam kept pushing the toy into you as well as he could, helping you come down from your high until you spasmed when it hit an over-sensitized patch of skin. “That’s it baby, give me all you got and I’ll give you more.” Your hand shot to his wrist and he evilly kept at it for a minute more, fighting against your overstimulation and whispering praises in your ear.

Once you started pleading with him to stop, he switched it off and held it up to the light, hooded eyes examining how slick it was with your come. He shakily set it on the edge of the nightstand, shucking his boxers off and opening the drawer to get a condom, then stretched over further to retrieve the cock ring.

“You wanna put it on me or do you just wanna watch me do it?” His voice was rough and breathy.

“I want to watch,” you said, still tired and recovering from your first orgasm. He nodded and tore open the foil package, rolling the condom onto himself expertly. You loved watching him touch himself, and couldn’t wait to see his face once he flipped the switch for the vibrations.

He used both hands to stretch the ring of rubber out with his fingers, settling it at his tip and working it down his cock, making sure not to twist it and keeping the vibrating part upright. Once he got it situated on himself, he put a hand on your shin and smirked at you. “You sure you don’t wanna do the honors?”

You were recovered enough to feel a new clench of your walls. “Yeah. I wanna see you.”

He nodded and it was his turn to put on a show, taking his cock and slowly running his big hand down to where the ring rested, thumbing around the notches and caressing the switch side of motor, teasing you. Your eyes were glued to each movement, uncaring that he was being deliberately slow and sensual.

Then with one small flick of his thumb, a small buzzing lit up the silence, and Sam grasped his length a little harder, hips bucking. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, that’s a lot more powerful than I thought it was gonna be, Y/N, shit—”

Filthy images of remote controlled cock rings flashed through your mind, perhaps even another couple’s set, and you began to think that you may just have to get him and yourself a New Year’s present too.

The buzzing stopped and you blinked out of your half-state of fantasizing about what was happening right in front of you. “Why’d you stop?”

Sam laughed, shakily. “It’s not even touching you yet, what do you mean, why’d you stop?” He blew out a breath. “I felt like I was going to fucking cum if I kept that up much longer.”

“It’s a cock ring, Sam. Aren’t they supposed to make you last longer?”

He moved to hover over you again, lining himself up with your entrance again, but this time without the barriers of underwear. “Yeah, I guess. But I’ve never used one before. It’s fine, just turn it on, now, baby,” he said at last, and you reached down, fingers grazing his cock and then finding the motor, fiddling around until you felt the switch.

You moved it into position with a scratch of your fingernail, and Sam bucked again, his tip breaching in, and then he sheathed himself completely.

You understood what he was saying when you felt the vibrator flutter against your clit. The size definitely did not bely the power, but you were still certain that it did bely its performance time.

“I’m ready, Sam, you can go,” you mumbled into his neck. He was shaking.

“I know,” he whimpered. “But I – I still feel like if I move, I’m gonna come. And I wanna feel you come with me this time. Fuckin’ – you going all tight around me with this fucking thing is gonna be – it’s gonna be fucking magical if I can make it that far.”

You sucked a mark into the skin of his neck. “You’re not going to come prematurely. I’m sure it’s just because it’s the first time you’re using a toy like this. Just start moving and if you come, you come. I’ll give you another show with my better vibrator, then, so neither of us are losing here.”

He groaned, but started up a slow pace, grinding as far as he could into you just to make sure you felt the vibrations against your clit. You did.

“This is – this is really nice,” you breathed, and that was an understatement. Sex with Sam was good – you were always satisfied – but there was something about a vibe that satisfied you in a different way, and the clash between the worlds was delicious.

He grunted in response, picking up his pace a little bit. You could tell he was faltering, though – the two-way stimulation probably fucking with his attention – so you pushed on his shoulder.

“Roll over, baby, I wanna ride you.”

He went over willingly, croaking out an appreciative thanks through gritted teeth, sighing at your weight and not stopping his hands from wandering all over the skin you had to offer. “So fucking pretty, Y/N,” he praised.

“Just like you, Sammy, so pretty, so good to me,” you answered back, scratching his scalp lightly as you ran your hand through his hair to get it out of his face and he pushed into your touch like a puppy. You sank down on him, letting out a small moan when you realized you could get a stronger vibration from this position. You started a bounce and grind rhythm – drawing from the strength in your thighs to raise up and then riding your momentum forward to drag your clit across the motor.

You dropped your hand to either side of Sam’s head, the pleasure building again and prompting you to keel over so that you could use your arms to steady your torso and give more power to your hips. Sam lifted his head to mouth at your breasts, and slipped a finger down to run around the vibe, feeling your lift-drop-grind pattern in real time.

“I was thinking,” you panted, “that we might have to invest in a better couple’s vibe set. Maybe one of those Bluetooth ones that’ll connect to your phone. Could be fun.”

He nodded, finally finding a reprieve from the sensation of impending orgasm once his body became used to the dual sensations. “I’m gonna order it as soon as we finish here.”

“Not gonna be long,” you let him know, pausing longer to let the vibe do its thing against you. Sam noticed, and took a strong grip on your hips just as you were about to start moving again.

“No, no, you stay there,” he persuaded, bracing his shoulders against the mattress and giving a rhythm back, letting you keep the consistent pleasure of the toy and giving himself the friction from his rocking thrusts. “You almost there, baby?”

“Fuck yes,” you said, voice high-pitched and strung-out.

“Me too. I’m going to turn us back over, is that okay?” You nodded your consent and pressed your hips flush against him, trying to keep his inside you when he rolled over, and succeeded.

He kept a close-contact roll of his hips instead of a drawing thrust, keeping your pleasure from the vibe in mind.

“You’re so fucking wet, baby,” he grunted in a higher-pitched whine that told you of his impending orgasm, slick wetness infiltrating the buzz of the toy. You wanted to explain that having an orgasm directly before fucking and the additional stimulation of the vibe on your clit would do that to you, but only a whimper escaped your mouth, and he lost it, begging, “I’m – oh fuck me, I’m so close, so close. Please tell me you’re there, baby, please – please, I can’t – I can’t hold it – fuck, please.”

“Cum for me Sammy, baby, cum with me,” you whined out, walls starting to contract as you reached completion, and Sam let out a broken, grunting moan – spasming right there with you, having tried his damnedest to keep from coming before you, and released, shifting his weight onto one shaky elbow and reaching down to fumble with the switch on the vibe that was now overstimulating both of you.

You felt both his visible and auditory relief – the weight of his body that he dropped onto you and the warm exhale of his breath on your ear. He nuzzled into your neck, pressing soft, lazy kisses anywhere he could without actually moving his head.

“I’m gonna move, I promise,” he slurred against you, stroking his thumb up and down a section of your shoulder.

You returned the gesture, gently petting his hair and catching your breath. “S’okay, baby. Take your time.”

He rolled off you just a few moments later, not wanted to crush you. His hand groped down and pulled the vibrator up, stringing the rubber around his fingers so that it didn’t scrape against his cock, and pulled the condom off afterwards, tying and dropping it into the trash can by your bed and placing the cock ring right next to the bullet.

“I think we might get another use outta that thing,” Sam breathed out, digging his arm underneath your neck so that he could cuddle you to him. “Best Christmas gift ever.”

You chuckled. “Should I just toss the cookies and coupons, then?”

Sam scoffed. “And waste perfectly good food and sex? Not an option.” He wiggled deeper into the mattress, stilling for just a second before shifting again. “Oh shit, wait a second.” He withdrew himself and pulled his boxers on, searching in his pants pocket and coming up with his phone before settling back next to you in the bed and tapping against his screen.

“What is it?” you asked, turning towards him. Sam was momentarily distracted by the movement of your breasts, but then looped his arms around you so that you could participate in what he was doing. You laughed, eyes searching the page from an online sex-store outlining different selections of high-grade silicon couple’s Bluetooth vibrator sets.

“Help me choose your present?” he asked insolently.

Your smile froze. “What?”

“Your Christmas present, help me choose which one you think you’ll like best? Or two, or three – honestly, I’ll buy every single one of them if you think we’ll use them.”

You sat up straight, clutching the blanket to your chest and staring at him incredulously. “What did you have wrapped all pretty in the kitchen then?”

Sam grinned, unrepentant. “A big box of biodegradable packing peanuts that had a gift card to your favorite ice cream place. I forgot to get your present with all the recording and travelling I’ve been both doing and planning on doing, so I made a quick stop to the ice cream shop and then to the packing store and had them wrap it for me – they got a laugh out of it.”

The audacity of the man.

You harrumphed and turned away from a now laughing Sam, grumbling.

“Get the black set, it’ll match the one I already have.”

~~~

Tag list: @fleetsonfire @theweightofstardust @joshplaysthevocals

[peakyblindersxx]

whiskey buisness - john shelby x reader (part 5 of ?)

gif by my literal angel @michaelgreys who keeps blessing us like holy fuck

a/n: all i can say is that this is the hottest one yet. as always, my girl @stxdyblr-2k did an amazing job so i hope you all enjoy :) and i'm still working on requests, tysm for all of them!!

love, abi xxx

read part one two three four | my masterlist

tagging: @datewithgianni, @mayaslifeinabox, @deepdonutkid, @springsoulofengland

prompt: john just can't help himself when he sees you with someone else.

warnings: nsfw!!! smut, fluff, angst, light praise kink, john fucking adores you and spends a good amount of time with his head between your legs (yes i know!!!!!)

John had spotted you from across the London nightclub, his table tucked into the balcony area, perfectly positioned to survey the entire club. It'd been over a month since he laid eyes on you last. Sometimes, he wondered if it was possible for you to only get more beautiful every time he saw you. He wasn't surprised, as he'd been warned of your presence by Tommy, but he was unable to stop himself from staring at you, hair neatly styled, scarlet velvet dress clinging to every curve, red lipstick emphasizing your lips, a light haze of pink pressed into your cheekbones, lash-line expertly darkened with kohl. You were dancing with one of Isaiah's friends; the young man was tall and muscular -- a blinder foot soldier, John concluded, draining his glass of whiskey, flagging the waiter down for another.

The young lad was smiling down at you. John took a swig from his drink bitterly, the man obviously head over heels, his eyes bright, excitedly glancing from your lips to your figure. John could feel himself cringe; the younger man had all the subtlety and strategy of a malnourished dog. Then again, who could blame the lad? You were an absolute vision, twirling and giggling, off your face on something Michael had brought. John couldn't help but watch, wishing it was him who had caught your attention tonight, wanting to feel your breath fan across his neck, pulling away while you giggled at his blushing arousal; him whisking you to dark corners to steal a moment of quiet.

He'd tried to get over you but he couldn't. He'd been travelling a lot lately, business in Liverpool, Edinburgh and Belfast; yet in every woman who smiled at him, he found himself searching for you in their eyes, their smiles, their laugh. They were all gorgeous, but his heart simply wasn't in it.

Tonight had started off alright, normal Peaky activity. They'd seized the club only a few hours ago, gaining vital territory in London, bagging their place in the opiate trade and a successful business prospect in one fell swoop. By all accounts, John should’ve been happy, but he'd been too lost in his own mind lately to properly take in the consequences of those sleepless nights with the accounting books, all the hours practicing shooting and boxing, all the endless driving, the meetings, the lingering stench of death which clung to his family. Try as he might, he couldn't enjoy himself. His night got worse the second he spotted you; a yearning for you suddenly flooding his veins. It was easy to get on with life when you were hundreds of miles from him, but when you were a flight of stairs away? He knew the club had countless dark passages to hide away with you, multiple cloak rooms with thick brick walls to take you against: he had to stop his mind running wild. He couldn't. That had to be the last time. You were in his past, you had to stay there. But as he watched you dance with the blinder, he could feel the familiar burn of jealousy swell deep within him. The lad was far too close to you for his comfort, practically grazing his hips to yours. John roughly rubbed his jaw at the sight, silently seething to himself in the shadows.

Thomas studied his brother's body language, taking a slow drag of his cigarette, not understanding the fuss around you. Sure, you were pretty enough; you were bright, apparently funny, but you had never caught his attention really. He observed how John's eyes followed your every move, every sway of your hips closely watched as he held his breath, losing himself to you. He was glad he'd prompted Michael to invite you; this was the most attentive he'd seen John in a month. It was no coincidence that he'd dragged you away from Birmingham, from the watching eyes of the city locals, the wagging tongues in the assembly lines, far from Ada. Michael had admitted to Thomas that it was easy to persuade you, promising you a lift in his new car and a night out as Ada had plans with a gentleman. A night of dancing with your favourite lads and an all expenses paid trip to London? You couldn't resist.

John's jaw had tensed and squared, the man murmuring something against your neck causing you to giggle and grasp his collar. Thomas could tell his brother was practically bristling with jealousy. If looks could kill, the young man clinging to your hips would be long dead from the glare unleashed on him by the tallest Shelby brother.

"You gonna sit there useless or are you gonna fucking do something about it, eh?" Tommy inquired, nudging him with his shoulder.

"I can't."

"No one will know." Thomas pointed out, raising a brow, "The Blinders will say fuck all if they see owt. They keep quiet when it's about us Shelby brothers, yeah?"

John glanced at him, eyes slightly widened, confusion furrowing his brows. "You've changed your fuckin' tune."

"Sometimes, it's good to have secrets. What Ada doesn't know about the events of tonight won't hurt her."

"We don't do secrets. We're meant to trust each other." John objected. "We're a family."

"Nothing will change, John. I'll fix it for you, yeah? You've had a rough few weeks, you should reward yourself."

"She's not a fuckin’ prize, Tom."

"Keep talking that shit and people will get the wrong idea, think you love the woman or sommet." Thomas shrugged, taking a sip of his drink, while John's cheeks flared, his eyes flinching to the floor. He smirks to himself. "You going to go get your lass, then?"

John replied wordlessly, standing and downing the rest of his drink, pulling on his suit jacket, straightening his collar. "I'll catch you later, Tom."

********

The lad was nice, his name had long disappeared into the fog of liquor and Tokyo. He was someone's cousin, but he was polite; charming, almost. Most importantly, he wasn't related to your best friend. Not quite a Casanova type like John, but you two were a good match, everyone thought so. You'd seen him a few times now over the past week. He wasn't much of a talker, but he was a good dancer, and sweet after a few pints.

The band started playing a slower song, Isaiah dancing chest to chest with a beautiful girl across from you. You felt your partner place his fingers on the small of your back, his fingers inching lower, pulling you in closer before the two of you were interrupted by a dark figure looming over you.

"Can I cut in, mate?" A strong Birmingham accent sliced through the air, voice low and polite enough, but with a tone that was laced with venom. "Or are you gonna be a dick about it?"

The lad glanced nervously between you two, moving his hands away from you, embarrassed to be caught by his boss in this state, John staring him down. You slowly pulled away from him, turning to face John.

"Or you could ask me to dance yourself, John?"

John silently glared back at you, his mouth tensed into a thin line. He looked momentarily embarrassed, his attention switching back to your dance partner, the rest of lads silently watching, breaths baited, ready to jump in on the action if the moment required it.

"I'm heading off mate, reckon she's a cocktease." Your partner comments, attempting to diffuse the tension, stepping away, not wanting a fight or to piss off his boss. His path was quickly blocked by another blinder. You shot him an apologetic look and took the large hand John was offering you.

"Or, she's just not interested in you," John quipped, smirking, locking his fingers through yours. "You gonna go get your coat while I finish up with your best mate?"

"Thought we were dancing?"

"You can dance as much as you like in the suite, yeah? Proper gramophone. You coming?"

"You just want me on my own."

"Just tired of the distractions." He told you pointedly, skimming his glare over the group of men, standing with baited breath, preparing for it to kick off.

You rolled your eyes but squeezed his hands, slowly heading to the cloakroom, chatting with the attendant as you watched John confront the lad, keeping your distance. His arms were clutching the lad's lapels, snarling in his face before pushing him back. Michael watched from a few steps away, smoking absentmindedly, spine pressed to a pillar, leaving his cousin to sort out whatever offense he believed the man had caused.

You bundled yourself up in your thin coat, a gift from one of the girls you hung around with as she had recently married a blinder and was being spoiled rotten. The coat's flimsy material was going to be useless against the London night. At least you could count on John to keep you warm on the walk back to the hotel. You headed towards the side door, John's hand quickly finding your lower back protectively as he fell into step beside you. He opened the heavy wooden doors for you, the cold air an instant relief from the heat of the nightclub. You turned back as the door closed, catching a glimpse of the boys closing in on the lad, their eyes gleaming with a violent hunger for action.

"He'll be alright. Daft prick just getting put in his place." John said flatly. He seemed bored but watched you anxiously, begging you with his eyes to drop the subject.

"Is the hotel close by?" You asked casually, as the frigid air swirled around your calves, instantly causing you to shiver.

"I'll get us a cab, love, can't have you in those heels trekking halfway across London town." He stepped fearlessly into the road, unbothered about any potential danger or just forgetful from the whiskey. Quickly, a dark cab pulled up to the cobblestone pavement and John helped you in, taking off his coat and wrapping it around your shoulders before climbing in after you.

As the engine started and the car made its way through London's dimly lit streets to Camden, John's hand found its way to your thigh. You glanced at him, his eyes looking away but his thumb angled against his teeth. He was nervous, having not touched you in a month. You crossed your legs, angling them towards him, his hand shifting higher up your thighs, taking a deep sigh of relief. Your hands found his chin in the gloom of the back of the car, only the occasional bright lights from a nightlife hub or the demure lights of a residential illuminating his face, the angles changing as the cab drove on. It was too much. You'd been needing this for the past month, needing him. Your hands laced around the back of his head and you pressed your lips to his for a brief moment, allowing John to pull you deeper into the kiss. It awoke something familiar inside you, something comforting. Kissing John erased all your homesickness. Christ, you had to stop thinking like this.

"You've not been about for a bit, sweetheart. I know we said never again, but I was hoping you'd come by," John muttered, forehead pressed to yours, breath mingling with yours as he spoke.

"I almost did. The amount of times I nearly visited your office.. I just couldn't do that to you or Ada. Besides, last I heard, you were on tour." You admitted, keeping your voice down to save the cab driver the embarrassment. John caressed your cheekbone with his thumb, tracing the corner of your mouth, prompting a grin from you.

"Last place on earth I'd expected to see you next, it's been hectic my end," He sighed. His eyes were outlined with deep purple smudges of exhaustion, yet he was still devastatingly beautiful even after all the sleepless nights. "It's been too long."

"Not my fault you've been hiding yourself away. You should've called."

"Blame Tommy for that. His solution seems to be sending me on business trips. Trying to make me too tired to handle you." A nervous lick of his lips revealed John’s response to the suggestion that he call you. He wanted to say he would ring next time, but there couldn't be a next time.

"You can barely handle me on a good day, Mr. Shelby."

"Can't blame me. You seen yourself? On the brink as soon as I see you, lass." He teased, earning a gentle shove to the shoulder as you quickly pressed a kiss underneath his chin. You wanted to bring up Thomas' threat, but you bit your tongue, nudging his shin with the toe of your heel in the back of the cab. He rolled his eyes, grabbing your wrists lightly. "Behave yourself in front of the nice cabbie, sweetheart."

You soften at his touch, unable to resist reaching to interlock your fingers, squeezing his hands in yours affectionately. The spirits your table had been bringing you all night definitely boosted your confidence, any hesitancy due to potential rejection drowned out. John pressed his lips to your knuckles in response. He seemed different tonight, far more protective and serious than usual. He was so quiet it was strange, usually yapping your ear off, desperate for you to react, treating him to a giggle, a middle finger or a cutting response. You'd also never witnessed him spark off due to someone's interaction with you. Finn had mentioned a week or so back that John had a shouting match with Thomas and in the moment, your name got thrown up in the conversation, resulting in John taking a swing at his big brother out of frustration. It was confusing. He was willing to start fights over you, punch his brother, yet when you two were alone he was uncomfortably quiet, studying you, lost in his thoughts. His silence only made your body long for him, his fingers tracing patterns in your inner thigh. You let out a small whimper into the crook of his neck, as he instinctively pressed a kiss to your shoulder.

The car pulled up outside the hotel, your pulse racing, the anticipation already threatening to make you give in completely to his wishes tonight. You waited as he turned up his collar against the rain, clambering out of the car to open your door, creatively arranging the coat to hover just above both your heads protecting you from the miserable weather. Although John had referred to the building as a hotel, you could instantly tell the manor was some aristocrat's third or fourth home, obviously being rented out or gifted to business partners for trips. It was an imposing grey stone building, exquisitely carved, although not a country estate, the house was just as large. Was John used to this? It hit you all of a sudden that you'd never set foot inside John's home. You'd heard from Ada that it was overrun with hoards of screaming children. She often joked with the children at the Shelby Institute that if they hung around long enough at John's, he'd assume they were one of his offspring. You'd only ever fucked him in a guest bed. The shame made your stomach churn.

You needed to remind yourself of this when your late night thoughts ran rampant. John could say what he liked, but he'd never actually allow you to get overly personal with him. Whatever confusing mess was winding around your skull regarding him was useless; it was best not to think about it. You went to him every time, yet he would've picked another lass tonight, it was just that you were there. He probably had a string of gorgeous women, older, more accomplished, more experienced, more elegant. He could tell you he missed you, but you could never take for granted that he told you this for any other reason than as a prelude to get you in bed with him. You were his gorgeous mess, but only for the night. It was best to remind yourself to care less than he did. It was the easiest solution in the long term; this way, the downfall would be less brutal.

"You alright, love?" He asked suddenly, breaking your train of thought.

"Sorry, I was thinking about work."

He lived around his brothers for long enough, he could smell bullshit. He decided to let it go. It was best to not push it tonight. Just keep it light hearted, easy, like it was always meant to be.

"If your boss keeps being a prick, you tell Ada. She'll sort him out."

"Don't I know it? He can barely open the door before she starts on about workplace ethics." You joked, earning a small smile instead of his usual bright chuckle. "John, what are we doing here?"

"Well I'm about to take you upstairs and sort you out, yeah? You gonna let me look after you?" He asked, stopping you in your tracks by turning you into him, grabbing your wrist.

"You know that isn't what I meant."

"I know. But can we leave it tonight? Can we just have fun?" He questioned, lips ghosting over yours, fixing you with an intense stare.

"It's fun anymore." Your voice cracked, the liquor in your system making it impossible to control your tone or your facial expressions. "It's fucking with my head, John."

"It's just.. fucking difficult. It's fucking difficult because of who we are." He replied firmly but dropped his makeshift coat shelter around your shoulders, freeing his hands to grab your face pulling it to his, the alcohol making him far needier than he usually appeared. "You, my beautiful Y/N, are a fucking losing game. It's not as easy for me, I can't just dance with a woman and get a leg over-"

"I never said you couldn't."

"I know, I.." He gestured vaguely, lifting one of his hands off your cheeks, and you can feel your head nodding in understanding. "You know, I thought I was going to manage it this time. That I wouldn't be a total fuck up, but then you and that lad-"

"Catch you getting jealous over me."

"Fuck off." He let go of you for a split second but you reeled him back in, resting your palms on the chest of his shirt, the soaked material sticking to his skin. You'd struck a nerve. You decided to push him further.

"I don't know what you're trying to do, Mr. Shelby, disappearing across the country for weeks then coming back and telling me you want me all to yourself?" You played with his collar, tugging his face to yours before pulling back at the last possible second, causing him to let out a frustrated groan, hands itching to feel you underneath them.

"Don't fucking wind me up," He snapped, the intensity between you rekindled momentarily.

"It's worked wonders in the past," You replied, barely able to finish your sentence before his mouth was on yours, his fingers tangling into your hair, kissing you properly. Although you'd kissed so many times prior, this one felt so genuine, as though unleashed from its restraints deep within John. You'd never kissed anyone in the rain before in the middle of the night, and it felt magical. You were shivering but hot all over, burning for John to do something, anything. You could feel his cock through his dress pants, hard against you, prompting you to moan into his mouth.

"Fuck’s sake, Y/N," John grunted into your ear, his hands grabbing at your arse. "You're fuckin’ killing me here. I need you, yeah?"

"Tell me how badly." You responded coyly, linking your arms around his neck, ignoring the late night drizzle.

"I'd rather show you. M’gonna take care of you tonight, make up for the month I've been gone."

"Who's saying I've not been taking care of myself?'

He bit his lip in frustration, trying to stop his mind running wild with the image of you in bed, fingers between your thighs, breasts moving as you arched your back, hips lifting off the mattress, moaning as you called his name -- his jaw clenched. "I know what you're doing. You coming up before you catch a chill?"

You shifted your weight away from him, as if considering your options. He knew your answer; you both knew in a few minutes you'd be upstairs practically tearing his shirt off, needing his skin against yours, begging for him. John pulled away from you, dragging you up the winding path to the front door of the manor, opening the door for you, arm wrapping around your waist. His lips met yours, then your collarbones and neck, prompting a breathy giggle and whine as you wound yourself back around him, craving the contact. The manor was plunged in darkness, staff somewhere in the gloom. Your arrival had definitely been noted, but as with everyone who worked for the Shelbys, they just left you to it. It was easier to not get involved, to keep their heads down and not mention the midnight trysts the brothers got up to.

John knew his path, he'd stayed here before. Even in the dark you could tell the house was decorated to spare no expense, the gaudy paintings and sculptures casting strange shadows. He led you up the grand flight of stairs, then another.

"Worse than Thomas' estate, this place." You murmured quietly, unsure of other guests within earshot.

"I could never live like this. I'd never see my brood again. Getting them ready for bed would be one hell of a nightmare." He whispered back, halting your stride by pulling your hips to his, unable to wait any longer.

"John, what if we get caught?" You asked, pressing your hand against his chest with your palm flat.

"Never bothered you before. Thought you liked the fact that anyone could just walk in and see what a pretty little mess you’ve made for me."

You couldn’t help yourself from pressing an affectionate kiss to his mouth, letting him lay you down and pin you to the stairs, the luxuriously thick carpets scraping into your flesh. He cursed under his breath at the sight of you underneath him, pushing your dress up your thighs, lifting your legs to wrap around his neck, pressing a kiss to your flimsy underwear, glancing up to drink you in. The most beautiful woman in his city, begging for him, figure swamped by his coat, rain soaked and shivering, his mouth between her thighs. He ran his tongue slowly across your clothed core, your pleading moans music to his ears, loving how your thighs tightened around his neck. His tongue traced circles over your clit and labia, the friction generated by the lace of your panties pushing you further, your hands knotting into his hair, spine arching against his mouth.

"No one been looking after you while I was gone. eh?" He asked, pressing kisses to your inner thigh, tugging your panties to the side. "What about your dancing pal?"

"Fuck’s sake, I barely know him, John." You snapped back, teetering on the edge between lust and frustration from his relentless teasing.

"Keep it that way. You don't need ‘im, lass, not while I'm about." He replies before lapping at your slit, interpreting your moans as approval as your head slumped back and you released a low groan. "Y/N, watch me, yeah?"

You pull yourself weakly upwards, propping yourself up in your elbows to be able to look down the staircase at John between your legs in the dark. The view was thrilling, moonlight shining in through the rain on the window, illuminating his face, hair messy and tongue flickering across your clit while he stared up at you, his eyes darkened with lust. You couldn't help but pant, knowing you'd be returning to this moment alone at night, when it was your fingers instead of John's tongue pushing you towards the edge.

"So fuckin' wet and ready for me, aren’t you?" He crooned, sliding his fingers into you, sucking at your clit between flicks of his tongue.

You couldn’t find the words to respond, whimpers leaving your mouth instead, your hips lifting beneath his palms, chest heaving.

"Go on, use your words, clever lass."

"John, fuck.. don't stop," You manage to string together, thoughts too muddled by alcohol and arousal to play hard to get any longer.

"I won't ‘til you cum in my mouth. Need to taste you again, beautiful."

Your head jerked back suddenly as John curled his fingers inside you, pushing up against the spot that made you lose your mind, his name falling from your lips like a prayer, all he could hear except from his blood rushing in his head. Your desperate cries for relief caused his cock to strain against his dress pants, fighting the urge to sort himself out, needing to finish you off. John needed to prove that he could fuck you better than anyone else. He knew he was pushing you to the edge, but he wasn't going to deny you your orgasm. He wanted to make a point with this. His fingers worked faster, his mouth hungry for you, lips moving against your core at a harsh pace.

You groaned loudly, hips bucking involuntarily just to be forced back against the carpet of the staircase. Your breaths grew heavier, warning him how close you were to your peak. John refused to let up, pushing you closer every second, lips latched to your core firmly, lapping up the wetness he'd produced.

"I want to watch you finish." He commanded, you completely at his will now that you'd lost control, lifting your head upwards with the little strength you had left to be able to stare down at his dilated blue eyes. "Good girl. You gonna show me how good I make you feel? You gonna cum for me, doll?"

You couldn't respond, unable to keep your eyes from rolling backwards as you felt yourself suddenly release, John’s name escaping from between your lips, legs shuddering around his neck. He let you ride it out on his tongue, tasting you desperately, watching your expression slowly relax.

Finally, he pulled away from your cunt, unwrapping your legs from his neck. He grabbed your wrist, not letting you retrieve your panties, stuffing them into his trouser pocket. He returned his attention to tracing your slit with the index finger and thumb of his other hand, as he pressed a long kiss to your lips.

"I love how you taste," He murmured against your lips, causing you to flush slightly. John noticed, pressing kisses to your jawbone. "Don't get shy on me now. I've barely started with you. Not even got you to the suite and you've already cum."

He looked so proud of himself, it suddenly clicked for you. He was trying to prove himself to you, for some unknown reason. You know he was protective and quite obviously jealous tonight, but you couldn't believe that John Shelby felt the need to prove that he knew what he was doing, as though you weren't aware. You weren't trekking to his office for mediocre sex. Tonight he let you finish first, no teasing, no denial, no fucking about. Just putting his ability fully on show, so when your mind went drifting it'd go back to him, not some young lad who barely knew what he was doing. His cocky attitude and smug acceptance of his sexual prowess would've been off-putting if it was anyone else, but John, but with his bright smile and constant humour, pulled it off. It was enticing, making your core pool with wetness when he crossed your mind.

"A month is far too long, Mr. Shelby."

"I know, you're practically drooling over me." He teased. He seems a lot more himself than before. He’d been too caught up in his head, too focused on getting you off to enjoy the flirting and teasing. John loved how light-hearted he could be with you. Despite the mess you were both in, it was making you laugh or roll your eyes that soothed his mind. Honestly, if it was just sex he'd have cut you off instantly; he wouldn't have even gone there out of loyalty to Ada. Admittedly, it was your company and presence that had him absolutely on his knees for you, the way he felt understood, less alone in his brother's bullshit, less trapped by his criminal career because you understood. You always had a cutting line, a bright smile just for him, an eye roll at his brothers' daft plans, a choice curse word for Thomas. He didn't even want to consider what would happen after the night ended. He stood, pressing another kiss to your lips as he helped you to your feet, fixing his coat which hung off your shoulders.

"You ready for rounds two through to six?"

"John, you know you won't get through three with me."

"You’re right, you're just too pretty when you’re riding my cock." He teased, the vulgar material of his jibe earning him a joking shove before you curl into his side, letting him escort you up the stairs to the nearest bedroom. He quickly shut the door behind you, scooping you up in his arms, causing you to let out a laugh as he practically tossed you onto the king sized bed, eyes shining with adoration as he looked down at you grinning back up at him.

“You’re something else, John Shelby.”

[verai-marcel]

Serendipitous Meetings (Arthur x GN!Reader, Modern AU, 18+)

Summary: You foolishly didn’t mark where you parked in the huge parking structure, and spend some time looking for your car. You run into a fellow who did the same thing, and things get ridiculously serendipitous from there.

Author’s Notes: How many tropes can I shove into this fic? Let’s face it, I just wanted to have Arthur fuck like the manly man that he is. Also going for gender neutral as much as possible, so all my readers who want a piece of Arthur can have him.

Tags: Arthur x GN!Reader, smut, light D/s tones, size kink, light spanking, neck grabbing, rough sex, dirty talk, modern AU

AO3 Link is here, li’l darlin’.

Word Count: 3764

--------------------

"Shit."

You let out a long suffering sigh as you looked around the packed parking structure. In your rush to meet your friends, you had forgotten to take a photo of where you parked. Now you stared at the large expanse of cars, racking your brain for at least a slight memory of how you got to the venue entrance from your car. 

Sticking your hand into your pocket, you gripped your phone for a moment before letting it go. You had already shooed your friends away, insisting you had parked nearby and could get to your spot no problem. Swallowing your pride, you started to search the rows for the off-white bucket of bolts you dared to call your car. 

After searching one floor, you trudged up the stairs to the next one, stopping a few steps past the landing to gaze upon the hundreds of cars before you. You faintly heard another set of steps coming down the stairwell, but you were so mired in your own despair that you didn't pay the sound any mind. 

"Shit," said a gravelly voice next to you. 

Glancing over, a very broad set of shoulders filled your view. Your eyes flicked over the red and black flannel shirt and blue jeans, with an almost hilariously large belt buckle. Then you looked up. 

Oh no. He was gorgeous, in a rugged, manly-man sort of way. That chiseled jaw, the five o’clock shadow, that thick neck… he was the kind of man who could probably pick you up and throw you over his shoulder with ease. You were so busy staring at him in tired awe that he finally noticed you.

A pair of turquoise eyes met yours. "Sorry," the man said. "Can't find my truck."

It took you half a second to remember to respond. Then you gave him an empathic half-grin. "I can't find my car either."

He pointed upstairs. "What's yer car look like? Maybe I saw it up there."

You shook your head. "It's just a generic off-white Toyota Corolla."

The man shrugged. "Oh. Well, sorry darlin', there's a bunch of those up there."

You sighed, lamenting the fact that your car was one of the most popular cars out on the road these days. You also secretly enjoyed him calling you darling with that accent of his. He sounded like he had just stepped out of a spaghetti western. 

"Maybe I saw your truck downstairs, if it stands out," you said, trying to be helpful. 

"It's a blue Chevy pick-up. Really old, like one o' them classic trucks, 'cept it ain't been cleaned up like the ones you see in a car show."

Your memory flashed with the image of a dirty blue truck in your apartment complex's garage. You stifled a laugh at the thought. You had always wondered who drove the old thing, since you had never seen its owner. 

"Nope, I didn't see a truck like that downstairs," you told him. 

"Oh. Well, guess we better start lookin'," he said. He looked at you for a moment, opened his mouth, then closed it again.

You waited.

“Maybe,” he finally said, “maybe we could look together? For a bit. Keep each other company.”

“Okay,” you said easily. Part of your brain screamed that it could be really easy for him to just pull you into his car, but you dismissed the voice in your head. He seemed alright; you had a good feeling about this guy.

The two of you took off towards the left side of the structure. Putting your remote under your chin and hoping it would actually increase its range, you hit the button on occasion. 

“Uh, what’re you doin’?” he asked, pointing at your remote.

“Oh, I read about this online, someone figured out that you can use your own head as an antenna, or something like that.”

The man raised an eyebrow, but eventually just nodded. “Huh, I guess that makes sense.”

You shrugged. “Haven’t tested it before this, so I’m hoping it actually works.”

The two of you wandered further and further towards the center when finally you heard that familiar beep. 

*BEEP BEEP*

He chuckled. “Guess it works.”

You had never been so happy to hear that annoying little buzzer of a horn. You took off at a jog without waiting for the man, going towards where you had heard the sound, and as you turned a corner, you spotted it. 

It was the big, old, blue truck from your apartment complex. 

No way, you thought. There is no way. Maybe it's a similar truck. 

Going back, you saw the man wandering around, still searching. 

"Hey Mister!" you yelled. 

He turned towards you. 

You excitedly pointed towards the truck. "This yours?" 

He started walking to you, and as he came closer, you could see the smile on his face and felt your heart skip a beat. 

"Thank you," he said, stopping in front of you. "Where’s your car?"

You grinned and hit your unlock button. The little off-white sedan next to his truck let out a little beep, the lights coming on. 

"Wish I had one of those," he said wistfully. "Sure woulda made my life easier." He looked at you with a small smirk as he opened the door to his truck. "But then I wouldn’t have met you. Thanks fer your help, angel."

You smiled, feeling your cheeks warm from his comment. "No problem." You struggled to find anything else to say, feeling pathetically desperate to hear him speak more. "Have a good night," you finally said. 

"You too," he said, his voice a little lower, a little more breathy as he hauled himself into his truck and closed the door. Now that you had a pretty good feeling that he was a decent guy and not a creep, you half-wished he really would pull you into his truck and have his way with you. 

Shaking the lewd thought from your head, you got into your car and set up your phone to listen to a podcast as you drove home. You eased your way out of the garage, through the local roads, and onto the freeway. For the next thirty minutes, you would spot the same blue truck out of the corner of your eye. Sometimes you’d pass him, sometimes he’d pass you. 

Maybe it’s a different blue truck, you tried to convince yourself.

You couldn’t convince yourself any further when you pulled into your apartment complex right behind him. He parked at his usual spot, three away from yours. Climbing out of your car, you saw him walk towards you.

“You followin’ me?” he asked gruffly, though the grin on his face clearly showed his amusement at the coincidence.

“I can’t believe we live in the same complex,” you muttered, still in shock that you had never seen this handsome man before. “How long have you lived here?”

“Oh, ‘bout two years now.”

“Shit,” you thought to yourself.

“Why’re you cursin’?”

Oh crap. You said that out loud. “I, uh, um,” you stammered.

He quietly watched you, letting you stew in your own embarrassment, an amused grin on his face. The bastard was enjoying watching you squirm!

Feeling your face heat up, you blurted out the truth.

“We could’ve known each other sooner!”

It was an unfortunate tick in your personality that you had never managed to get rid of, and now, watching his eyes widen at your embarrassing remark, you wished the sidewalk would just open up and swallow you whole. But since that wasn’t going to happen, you opted to turn around and stalk away.

“Hey now, wait, you can’t just say that and leave,” the man said, jogging to catch up to you. When you wouldn’t stop walking, he swerved in front of you, forcing you to stop mere millimeters from him. You noticed how big he was, how little you were in comparison. You weren’t a small person by any means, he was just… large.

“Why’re you runnin’ away, darlin’?” he asked, his voice hushed as if he was trying to calm a wild animal. Perhaps with the way you acted, you seemed that way to him.

You took a deep breath, accidentally inhaling his scent, a mix of pine trees and a subtle hint of campfire smoke and musk that made you want to bury your face in his chest and stay there. Desire shot straight between your legs, reminding you that it had been a long time since you’d been with anyone. Letting out a shaky breath, you made the poor choice of looking up at him.

You were blinded by his kind smile and seduced by his deep voice. “Do you want to know me?” he asked quietly. 

“Yes, I do,” you answered immediately.

He pointed to his apartment. “I live there. Want to share some whiskey?"

You paused. He was a stranger. 

A stranger with beautiful eyes and the sweetest smile you had ever seen. 

You followed him willingly into his den. 

***

You blinked after he turned on the lights. When your vision cleared, your expectations were, fortunately, not met at all.

You had expected a bachelor pad with junk everywhere and clothing on the floor. What you saw was a clean and neat living room with a simple couch and a TV on top of a small entertainment center that held a few blu-rays and a blu-ray player. The short table in front of the couch had a plate on it, a smudge of ketchup and some crumbs on it, and a glass with a little bit of water left.

The man went to pick up after himself, putting the dirty dishes in the sink before going to his pantry. His kitchen looked pretty bare, except for the dried herbs, tied up in bunches under his cabinets. 

While he shuffled around bottles, you went to sit on his couch, but not before pausing for a moment to look through the door to his bedroom. He had a bed that looked big and comfy, his sheets somewhat askew but otherwise in place. Didn’t look like there were any clothes or boxes lying around anywhere. So either the man was tidy, or he didn’t own a lot of things.

“Curious li’l one, ain’tcha?” he chuckled behind you.

Spinning around, you could only give him a sheepish grin. “Yup, sorry. I couldn’t help myself.”

He smiled and gave you a tumbler of amber liquid with a giant sphere of ice. “Curiosity like that could get you in trouble one day,” he said mysteriously, gesturing towards the couch.

You raised an eyebrow, but sat down anyway. You took a sip of the ice cold whiskey, enjoying its slow burn down your throat. It was smooth and sweet. “This is fantastic, what is it?”

“It’s a blackberry flavored whiskey,” he replied as he settled himself on the couch, a little closer to you than you had expected. “I thought you might like it.”

“Oh?” You leaned in a little closer. “And why is that?”

“Somethin’ a li’l sweet fer a li’l sweetheart,” he said with a grin. He knew he was being schmaltzy, but you didn’t care. You were eating up his words, spoken with that deep rumble that went right between your legs.

You continued to sip and make small talk with him until your ice had melted and the late night had become the witching hour. But he didn’t seem to mind, and you wanted to stay.

“You got a bit o’ whiskey here,” he said as he leaned in and reached for the corner of your lips, his thumb catching the drop that had escaped your last sip. You flicked out your tongue to catch him, and your eyes met. A heartbeat passed. The whiskey gave you strength.

Taking his hand in yours, you surged forward and kissed his lips, tasting whiskey and his woodsy scent. A low moan came from deep within him, but he did not reach for you. His hands gripped the cushions as he let you take the lead, climbing into his lap and wrapping your arms around him, your fingers kneading his broad shoulders. You kissed the breath from him, desperate to feel him against you.

When you finally broke away for air, you stared at his eyes, now filled with lust and longing, and realized you didn’t even know his name. 

He came to the same conclusion. “What’s yer name, darlin’?”

You told him.

He nodded and repeated your name. It sounded so good when he said it. “Feels nice to say it out loud,” he said. “I’m Arthur,” he added as he wrapped his arms around you and held you tenderly. “How far do you want to go?”

“All the way,” you said, grinding your hips against his groin, making him take a shuddered breath.

Without a word, he picked you up and carried you to his big, comfy bed. He dropped you unceremoniously and took off his shirt.

He was ripped. He was built like a man who had worked all his life in a physical job, carrying & lifting. With his tall stature, his broad shoulders, and his huge arms, he made you feel small.

You had never been more aroused in your whole life. 

Your body was ready to be thoroughly fucked by this man, and you hadn’t even taken your clothes off yet. You watched hungrily as he undid his belt and dropped his jeans & boxers, your eyes taking in his size. He wasn’t even at full mast yet, and you already wondered if you’d be able to take him all in.

“Your turn, darlin’.”

Taken out of your trance, you took off your clothes as he watched. You started at a normal pace, but when you saw him take himself in his hand and stroke himself while watching you with a lustful gaze, you slowed down, making an attempt to tease him. Already topless, you lay back on the bed and lifted your legs up, sliding your pants upwards. Slowly, you exposed your ass to him, winking salaciously.

He stroked himself a little faster. A soft moan escaped his lips. “Darlin’, yer makin’ it real hard fer me to stay in control here.”

You glanced down at him. “I can see it’s real hard,” you said with a playful smirk.

“Oh, yer goin’ ta get it now,” he said, his grin becoming predatory as he climbed onto the bed. Grabbing the rest of your clothes, he pulled them from you, flinging them over his shoulder before flipping you onto your belly. He gripped your ass and squeezed hard before giving you a firm spank.

“Ooh!” you yelped. 

“You want more?” he asked as his hand soothed over his mark.

You could tell he was asking for permission. Turning back to him, you gave him your best pouty face. “Does Sir think I need more?”

Arthur looked immensely pleased with your response. “I think so,” he said, his voice deepening with a thread of command that turned you on beyond belief. He straddled your legs and rested one hand on the curve of your ass. “I told you, curiosity would get you in trouble.”

He spanked you hard once more. “That’s fer sneakin’ glances into my room,” he said. He gave you three more swipes, each in slightly different areas so you wouldn’t get too sore. Then he grabbed your ass with both hands and massaged your muscles, spreading you open as he thrust his cock along the cleft of your rear.

“Yer so obedient, sweetheart,” he murmured as his hips rocked, his eyes fluttering shut for a few moments. Then with his strong grip, he manhandled you onto your back, wrapping his big hands around you and pulling you into his arms. He cradled you for a sweet, gentle moment before rolling you around like you were as light as a pillow before setting you back down onto the mattress. He leaned over you as he reached for the nightstand, pulling out a condom. You watched him slip it on, but he didn’t move to enter you. Instead, he reached down and began to stroke you as he loomed above, watching your reactions.

You moaned and writhed under his deliberate exploration. His hands traveled languidly along every inch of you. When he found a sensitive area that elicited a soft noise of pleasure from you, he lingered, making you whimper and lean into his touch. He finally touched you lower, where you longed for his attention, but to your frustration he continued his study at the same leisurely pace. Soon his strokes became faster and he pressed harder against you. His eyes nearly glowed as he watched you lift your hips towards his hands, imploring him for more. Using his new knowledge to his advantage, he brought you to the brink and then shifted his touch elsewhere, making you cool off before working you back up again until you were going insane with need.

“Please, please Arthur, I need to come,” you begged.

He only smiled as he slipped a finger inside of you. He slowly worked you open enough for two of his fingers, then three. Soon he was dragging you to the edge again, and you hadn’t even had his cock. You were feeling like you were being denied the thing you wanted most.

“Arthur,” you whispered, “I want your cock.”

“Louder, darlin’.”

“I want your cock!”

“And what do you want me to do with it?”

“Fuck me!”

“Say it again. All of it.”

“Fuck me with your cock!”

His smile was wolfish, satisfied that he had heard you beg for your desire. Pressing the head of his shaft against your opening, he pushed, easing his way inside of you.

You were right. He was big, long, and oh so thick. He stretched you deliciously, and you keened softly as he took you, claimed you, made you his in the most carnal of ways. He reached up and slipped his hand under your head, gripping your hair at the base and pulling slightly. 

“Eyes on me, darlin’. I want to see you while I’m takin’ you,” he murmured.

You couldn’t look away from him. His look was intense, as if he commanded your entire being, your body his to use for his pleasure. And you willingly gave it to him, letting him sheathe his entire length inside of you. He held you still while your body adjusted to his claim, watching you with an almost proud expression.

“Good li’l darlin’,” he said as he leaned over. He kissed you gently on the lips, then on the forehead, and as if he was overcome with affection for you, peppered kisses along the curve of your cheek and down your neck.

“I’m goin’ to fuck you now,” he whispered into your ear. “You tell me to slow if it’s too much for ya, alright?”

You nodded, sure that whatever he was about to do to you, you could handle it.

He lifted himself up onto his forearms, his hands framing your face. “You look so damn cute,” he murmured before his hips slowly pulled back. “So fuckable.”

Arthur slammed his cock deep inside of you with one forceful stroke. He immediately looked down at you when you let out a cry of surprise. He waited, quietly checking in.

“More,” you whispered.

You thought you saw relief cross his features before he gave you a teasing smirk. “Ask me nicely and I just might give it to ya.”

“Please sir,” you begged, “I need more.”

Arthur gave you a single nod before rocking his hips, building you up slowly, his gaze nearly burning a hole into you with their intensity. As your body stretched and accommodated him, you clawed at his arms, greedily clamoring for him to speed up. He let out a feral growl before wrapping a big, rough hand around your neck, his other hand gripping your leg and spreading you wider for him. 

"You think you can take more, darlin'?" 

You looked up at him and smiled a challenge. 

He began a ferocious pace, angling himself to take you as deep as he could go. All you could focus on was the impact of his body against yours, his thick shaft filling you over and over, unrelenting as a tidal wave.

Soon he let go of your neck so he could sit up and grip your hips with both of his hands. He was fucking the breath out of you with each hard thrust, the sound of his hips slamming against yours filling the room with a lewd rhythm, intertwined with your breathy cries and his low moans of pleasure.

He reached down and stroked you, his touch rough and vigorous, matching the way he was ravaging you in a haze of lust. You could feel yourself sprinting towards that delicious finish line. The end was in sight as your hips jerked wildly, your legs wrapping around Arthur as he thrust even harder and deeper than before. 

"Come fer me," he murmured. "I want to feel you lose yerself around my cock."

You screamed as his words broke the dam that was holding back a torrent of pleasure, your climax tearing through your body at breakneck speed. Your legs stiffened, your toes curled, and your fingers dug into his very muscled biceps as you came harder than you ever had. You shook with aftershocks as Arthur continued to thrust, his hands letting go of your hips as he fell upon his forearms, caging you in as he chased his pleasure. 

"Fuck sweetheart, I'm comin'," he moaned before he buried his head into the crook of your neck. He gave three more erratic thrusts, then nearly crushed you with his weight as he pressed his hips against yours, keeping himself inside of you for as long as he could. 

A breathless moment passed, the two of you trying to catch that elusive breath. Arthur rolled off of you, quickly gathering you into his arms as he tumbled onto his side. 

"Goddamn," he finally muttered. "Wasn't expectin' to have such good company."

You turned in his arms so you could see the wide grin on his face. "For once, I'm glad I got lost in the parking lot."

He kissed your forehead. "Me too, darlin'. But let's make sure we don't get lost again." He found your hands under the covers, brought them up to his lips, and kissed your fingertips. 

"After all, I only just found you, my li'l darlin'."

--------------------

End Notes: Been a while, and of course, all of my pent-up lust just came streaming out of me in a flurry of words and phrases. Hope it’s still hot enough for you, my lovely readers!

[scarlettriot]

MHA Flowers Headcanons

Just a headcanon of why these boys would bring you flowers and cute stuff that comes from it.

Warnings: None

Includes: Kaminari, Bakugo, Kirishima, Shoto, Iida and Midoriya

Kaminari

. Always spontaneous as heck!

. Literally. This man, being the bumblebee he is, would be coming home from work and be like, "Look at this pretty flower! I bet Y/N would like this!"

. And before he knows it, he has a small bouquet forming.

. He'd probably take a longer route home in search of more pretty flowers to add to the bouquet so it would look fuller when he gave it to you.

. Would present it with a smile full of pure sunshine!

. A couple minutes after sniffing the beautiful flowers he'd collected, a rash would form across the bridge of your nose and across your cheeks.

. "Aw crap!" Kaminari would quickly make sure to get you medication to help calm down the redness all while apologizing profusely.

. You still kept the flowers, just didn't sniff them so closely anymore. You'd catch Kaminari narrowing his eyes at them every time he walked by them until they withered and he happily tossed them.

Bakugo

. He's actually really good about remembering important dates in your relationship.

. There was always an internal struggle going on with this man when it came to giving you flowers and cute things like it: He wanted everyone to know he showered you with gifts but he didn't want to be caught dead shopping for them.

. So, on anniversaries and holidays, it's pretty standard for an arrangement to be delivered to your office.

. Your coworkers would exclaim about how sweet and thoughtful he was and they really would brighten up your whole day.

. He usually got home after you, sporting a little smirk of pride. You'd have to walk up to him, tell him how lovely they were because he sure as hell isn't bringing it up.

. "Tck. Yeah, whatever. Wasn't that big of a deal."

. But, he'd wind his arms around you, pulling you in close and you knew he was a softy underneath it all.

. "Had to have Kirishima help me pick between lilies and snapdragons... he told me to get both."

Kirishima

. More like Kaminari, the red-haired hero would show up with any bouquet of flowers just for the sake of seeing you smile.

. But, when you texted him telling him you'd gone home early after a particularly tough day he decided he really had to do something special this time around.

. So, he'd been standing in a flower shop, still in his hero costume, trying to ponder which one's you'd like best.

. The guy would start a group chat with all the people in 1A that might be able to help him. "Help! What's Y/N's favorite flower!?"

. After gushing about how sweet he was for trying to figure it out, it became very apparent that none of them were any help at all but they did remind him of your favorite color and he could work with that.

. He pulled them from behind his back when he got home, as nervous as the first time he'd brought you flowers. "So, which flower is your favorite?" He asked while you put them in water.

. You pulled out one of the flowers from the bunch and handed it to him.

. You'd told him how you didn't use to have one but that flower had coincidently been in every bouquet he'd given you and thus, became your favorite.

. Kiri nearly broke down from a cuteness overload.

Todoroki

. Todoroki rarely gives flowers.

. He just didn't want to resort to giving flowers in the way his father did to his mother. It felt sort of like a copout to him.

. Still, he can see the way you light up when other people get them and he really wanted that reaction out of you.

. That meant he had to get creative. Literally.

. He'd told you he was going out with Midoriya via text while you were still out on patrol and you thought absolutely nothing of it. Told him to have a fun time.

. "Why is this so difficult?" He grumbled while Midoriya picked it up so easily. He'd get it though, he was determined.

. When you arrived home, tired and longing for a shower, you were greeted by Todoroki holding out a small cluster of colorful paper flowers. "Do you like them?"

. Like them? Like? Like was an understatement! You loved them!

. He explained how he talked Midoriya into taking a class with him on how to make them and held up his hands so you could see all the bandaids from his paper cuts.

. After seeing your reaction, Todoroki got in the habit of hiding little paper flowers everywhere just to make your day.

Iida

. You told Iida how much you liked flowers on your very first date with him and ever since he's been known to go a little overboard...

. Like bouquets that were twice the size of your head.

. One time, when he was called away for work and was gone for two weeks, he sent flowers to your house every. single. day. You ran out of space to put them all!

. Still, seeing how happy he is to give them to you is more than enough reason for you to never complain.

. So, when he shows up to Friday night dinner, dropping a kiss on your cheek and whispering a soft, "I got you something." You weren't exactly surprised.

. You should have been though.

. He pulled out a small box and inside was a preserved flower. You recognized it from the first bouquet he'd ever given you.

. Iida sat across from you, adjusting his glass. "My mother had to help me get the preservation process correct but she assured me that as long as it is stored at..." He trailed off while you were still in awe of the incredibly sweet gift.

Midoriya

. Yeah, Midoriya knew your favorite flower before you even started dating. Well, he thought he did.

. He actually just jotted down things he knew his friends liked so he had a cheat sheet for gift giving.

. He was a studdering mess when you eventually corrected him.

. Ever since then though, he wouldn't just give you the actual flowers, he'd send you pictures of them. Get you artwork or a flower made out of clay for your desk.

. "I was on an assignment and saw this and I knew I had to get it for you!"

. Midoriya leads a super busy life but he always wants you to know he's thinking of you.

. He'd get big puppy dog eyes when you tell him you have the absolute perfect place for it.

A/N: Thanks for reading! I kinda want to try my hand at writing other people's prompts and ideas so if you have a request send it my way! Thank everyone!

[lathalea]

Dear King Thorin

I hope this letter finds you and your family in good health. Rebuilding Erebor must be keeping you busy but I hope you can find time to fulfill my curiosity again.

A little bird told me your royal ask box is open again. Poor thing was exhausted when he returned to Woodland realm but he wouldn't rest until he told me everything.

I would be delighted to know about #13, what is your favorite legend?

Yours sincerely

Q. Aduialel

👑 Welcome to Thorin’s Royal Ask Box! 👑

Dear Queen Aduialel of the Woodland Realm!

It is, as always, a great honour to receive the letters written by your elegant hand. A truly refreshing experience after the latest missive your husband sent me. Do not worry, I will not discuss political matters now. Pray allow me to say that I much rather prefer conducting the negotiations with you than with your royal spouse who seems to communicate mostly with smirks whenever we meet and with hastily written notes whenever he is to respond to the official correspondence from Erebor. There was a pungent leaf that gave me a most unpleasant rash and a dozen of feisty red ants. They attacked several of my people, including my scribe Ori! How many times do I have to say that the impromptu ice rink in front of the main gate of Erebor was an unfortunate coincidence! Also, I do hope your husband’s elk fares better than his well.

Forgive me, my lady, I am being petty and rude and there is no excuse for it. I can only say that I am glad whenever you accompany your husband every time he travels to the Lonely Mountain. Your wisdom and insight saved us quite a lot of headaches, along with your tonic against ant bites.

My family is quite well, thank you for asking. My sister Dis has recently arrived at Erebor along with other families from the Blue Mountains. My sister-sons have missed their mother greatly. And to think she left Erebor only for several months! Kili is very eager to leave his sickbed (he is recovering from a nasty cold), but I have a feeling that he enjoys his mother’s fussing quite a bit. As for Fili, he is very eagerly working at the Great Forges and spends most of his time there. It may have something to do with the fact that my sister mentioned it was time for him to marry since she brought all those pretty young maidens from the Blue Mountains. The problem is, he does not feel like settling down. I can imagine that similar experiences happen to all the parents. I am guessing that raising prince Legolas must have offered various challenges.

You asked me about my favourite legend. It is a story that I have heard from my Grandfather, King Thrór, who has heard it from his grandfather, who, in turn, has heard it from his grandfather as well. This story is sometimes called “A Shepherd’s Adventure”, although my cousins from the Iron Hills call it “The Treasure of the Mountains”.

A Shepherd’s Adventure

A long time ago, there was a young shepherd named Drangi who travelled with his goat herd along the Grey Mountains every summer. One warm and peaceful day he fell asleep while his mountain goats were grazing. When he woke up, the sun was setting. As he looked at his herd, he noticed that one of his youngest goats was missing. Worried, Drangi took his shepherd’s stick and went to search for the little white kid.

Evening mists came crawling, chilling him to the bone, but he would not stop. Finally, among the mists, he found a cave he had never seen before, even though he knew these parts like the back of his hand. When he entered the cave, darkness surrounded him.

“Who goes there?” a deep voice echoed in the darkness.

“They call me Drangi, son of Draug. I am but a simple shepherd,” the young Dwarf responded in a tiny voice.

A faint light appeared somewhere deep in the cave and Drangi finally saw a very old, white-bearded Dwarvish warrior sitting on a boulder, hand resting on his axe. The cave was huge and all around this ancient guard dozens and dozens of Dwarves lay on the ground, sound asleep, mighty weapons in their hands, great, shining armours covering their bodies.

“Is it time?” the old Dwarf asked, his eyes black as coals.

“N-no, not at all, forgive me for intruding, I am simply searching for my lost goat,” Drangi said sheepishly.

“Very well,” nodded the ancient warrior. “Look around. Our army sleeps here. If the Dwarves are ever in danger, we will awaken and defend our people. And now, leave this place, boy. You will find your goat by the entrance of this cave.”

Drangi bowed and left the cavern. The old Dwarf spoke the truth, his lost white kid stood bleating nearby. When Drangi finally returned home and told his family what happened, his grandfather said:

“You have found the real treasure of our mountains, son of my son. Remember it well for a time may come when this knowledge will be needed!”

And so Drangi did, and told his children and grandchildren about his adventure. And since then, all the Longbeard Dwarves tell this story to their little ones to remind them that if evil strikes, we are not alone.

I hope you enjoyed this story, my lady.

Your humble servant,

👑 Thorin Oakenshield

📜 Thorin’s Ask Box question list

[theshiningg]

you don’t love me the way you love her

hogwarts au

fluffy, a pinch of angst

draco x slytherin!reader

warnings: none that i could think of

word count: 7.1k (my longest ever lol)

you stare at the obnoxious faces your best friend makes at you as you stare at him across the dance hall. mcgonagall was teaching dance lessons prior to the yule ball and he was currently laughing at ronald weasley and the professor.

it was time to get partners and practice and you stare at draco from afar as he walks toward you. “hey y/n!” he speaks as he stands right in front of you. “care to dance?” draco lifts an eyebrow and you let out a small lighthearted gasp, “draco malfoy asking me, to dance?” you joke around as he wraps his arms around your waist. slightly embarrassed about the actions of your best friend, your ears and cheeks blush a light pink. you’d hate to admit it but, you were in love with your best friend.

later in the day at dinner, your eyes unconsciously drift over to draco, who was also unconsciously staring at a girl at the slytherin table, astoria greengrass. pansy lightly taps you on the shoulder to snap you out of your trance. “hey y/n, can i borrow your notes for potions? i skipped yesterday and now i’m a day behind.” you smile and nod at your friend before taking out your parchment of notes. “just give it back to in the dorm.” glancing at draco one more time, you turn to leave, walking to the lake to finish your book.

falling snowflakes land on your hair as you weave your way through the blankets of snow and under a tree. the crunch of footsteps quietly followed you as you feel a coat on top of your shoulders and turn around to see draco. he sits next to you, not too close but not too far, “can i ask you something?” you let out a hum of acknowledgement, “what do girls like?” taken a bit back, your eyes dart to his grinning face, “well,” you slightly laugh, “we appreciate even the smallest gestures, not too many gifts. for skinship, it honestly depends on the girl.” as you continue to talk, draco stares at you intentively nodding his head every once in a while. he stands up abruptly before extending his hand out to you. grabbing his hand, you stand up and give him a small smile. the both of you walk in silence to the castle until draco stops and stares at you, “y/n,” he pauses as a tiny grin appears on his face, “i think i’m gonna do it.” you lift your eyebrow at him and smile back at him, “do what?” he smiles to himself, “i’m going to confess.” your shoulders shrug down and his coat slips off, hitting the icy floor. his expression changes to a worried expression as he walks over to you, “are you alright?” he places his hand on your shoulder after picking up his coat, “yeah.” you barely whisper as you push his hand off your shoulder, “whoever she is, she’ll be lucky to have you. sorry, i’m a little out of it but i have rounds tonight so, i’ll see you later,” you speak before walking away.

the next day, you sit at breakfast with draco. he stares over at you while you try to teach pansy the lesson she missed the other day. “pansy, you have to grind up the occupy eggshell, not just crack it.” pansy whines at you, “y/n, please, no more,” you shake your head to your best friend, “then you shouldn’t have taken advanced potions,” you taunt. she quiets down and pulls you close to her, “how are you feeling?” your eyes look around the great hall before turning back to pansy, “i’m fine. honestly, plus, last night during my rounds, i caught the weasley twins out of bed after curfew and, they gave me a coupon for anything out of their box of mischief for their freedom.” pansy’s face twists up in disgust, “you’re too easily persuaded.”

you sit in potions, reading the instructions for your next potion to be made, a drought of peace. the classroom was quiet with only you and professor slughorn. “ah miss l/n,” he speaks up enthusiastically before quieting down, “what’s wrong?” you shake your head with a smile, “nothing.” your conversation quickly gets interrupted as draco and the rest of your friends enter the classroom, loudly. draco walks up to you instead of going to seat and drags his hands throughout your hair while standing behind you, “why’re you here so early?” you continue to read your book, “i’m getting ready for class.” he walks over to the front of your desk and stares you, “you’re upset.” you finally look up at him, “i’m not, i just like to be prepared for class.” draco rolls his eyes before leaning closely to your ear, “we’re not done with this conversation,” he trudges back to his seat annoyed.

the class starts with professor slughorn introducing the potion you read about earlier and pansy groans as he releases the class to grab their materials and begin their potion making. you tell pansy to grab the materials while you go grab the cauldron and potion glass. pansy sits in her seat while you stir the potion, “pansy did you bring the porcupine quills?” she shrugs, “well continue to stir while i go get it then,” she nods her head and grabs the rod from you as you go to the ingredients cabinet. unluckily, on the way there, you were a bit distracted so you bump into another student with their unfinished potion in their grasp that spills on your hand during the collision, burning it a little bit in the process. the glass ends up the floor broken and you bend down to pick up the pieces of the glass while the girl freaks out. you get pulled away from the glass by draco, “what’re you doing, y/n?” draco says as he begins to freak out a bit as well, “picking up the glass,” you answer dumbfound at everyone’s concern before looking down at your slightly burnt and bleeding hand. professor slughorn quietly cleans up the mess, “miss l/n, i think its best if you go madam pomfrey to have your hand checked out.” the girl walks up to you, “y/n, i’m so sorry.” she apologizes scared about how you were going to react, “its alright, don’t worry about it,” before walking off to the direction of the hospital wing.

as you arrive, madam pomfrey instructs you to wait on the bed while she gets bandages and medication for your hands. while you get treated, draco walks in the wing with your books and robes which you took off when you started your potion. madam pomfrey treats your arm and you finally leave with draco to dinner. on the walk to the hall, astoria pops out from behind a pillar, surprising you and draco. “draco, i have to tell you something,” she then turns toward you, “sorry about your arm, y/n. i heard what happened.” shaking your head, you reply, “don’t worry about it, it didn’t hurt that much,” before walking a good distance and turning around to give draco a reassuring smile about his confession. you start to walk down the long, lonely hallways, you’re not gonna lie to yourself, but you saw the way they looked at each other, specifically draco. you noticed the way he would smile to himself whenever she walked by at any meal time or the way he always unconsciously mentioned her in his stories when he had parties at his manor. making it to the great hall, you sit next to pansy, quietly. “where’s draco?” you let out a soft sigh, “he’s with astoria.” pansy leans closer to you, “are you okay?” you nod and reply, “yeah, my arm doesn’t hurt that much anymore.” she glances over at you sympathetically, “i don’t mean your arm, y/n.” you turn to face her with sad eyes, “i know.”

before you could continue with your conversation with the rest of your friend’s, you notice draco and astoria entering the hall, hands intertwined. you immediately turn your head back to look down at your palms on your lap before realizing tiny droplets of water were falling. bringing your head back up to look at the ceiling, you realize that the ceiling had been bewitched and turn your head towards the two most mischievous pranksters in the school, the weasley twins. george looks at you before giving you a noticeable wink and running out of the doors to pretend that he had no part in this prank. a smile lights itself up on your face as pansy drags you out of the hall with her, completely soaked. again, after exiting the hall, you match eyes with a weasley twin, this time being fred. he gives you the signal of zipping his lips up and throwing the key, in which you respond with a small smile and the nod of your head. draco and astoria both walk up to your friend group, “what the bloody hell? who would enchant the sky?” you stare at astoria’s wet state and shrug, “what a coincidence?” draco tries hard to look you in the eye, but avoids eye contact when you stare at him.

as you walk back to your dorm with pansy, she begins to complain about astoria, “ugh, she’s so annoying? do you understand what i’m saying?” you nod in confirmation for your friend, “just because she’s dating draco now, doesn’t give her the right to act all powerful and mighty because their families are probably the most powerful and influential in the whole wizarding world!” pansy’s rant goes in through one of your ears and out the other as you just continue to nod and pretend to acknowledge her annoyance. “uh, pansy. i’m have to get something from potions, i left my,” your eyes search the hallway for an item before landing on an owl, “my quill. draco forgot to bring it for me, so i’ll meet you in the room in thirty minutes.” she gives you an okay before continuing her rant with blaise.

your breath unveils itself in the frosty breeze as you walk back to the same tree as the night before. sitting yourself down, you let out a large sigh before getting interrupted by a clearing of a throat. “fred, george. pleasant evening?” they both give you their signature smirks, “indeed.” george sits down first with fred following next, “i suppose you want the coupon back? for the prank, i mean.” they both shake their heads in sync, “of course not,” fred replies, “that one was for free,” george adds on. you slightly chuckle at their response and they stare over at you, “well, we better get going,” george speaks up after several seconds of silence, “a specific blond is looking for you,” fred speaks after his brother as the both of them stand up and walk towards the castle. as they leave, the crunching of incoming footsteps disturb the silence, “y/n, didn’t i tell you to bring a jacket whenever you leave the castle?” a small smile makes its way to your face, “of course, your majesty,” you taunt as a pout appears on his face. “what were you talking about with the weasel twins,” you roll your eyes, “weasley twins,” you enunciate, “and we were just talking about the coincidental raining sky at dinner.” draco takes off one of many layers of coats and drapes it around your shoulders, “can’t have you catching a cold, miss beater.” with the recent events occurring in your life, you totally forgot about the quidditch match you had on saturday. “oh my god, i totally forgot.” draco gives you a deep chuckle, “well don’t forget that we have practice tomorrow, or else flint is going to murder you.” you nod at his caring yet sarcastic sentence, “alright, i’ll see you tomorrow morning, astoria is waiting for me in the hall, didn’t want her getting cold,” he speaks before using his knuckle to rummage up your hair. your head turns toward his receding figure and then back at his coat. you think to yourself, “if you turn around and wave like you always do, i won’t give you up, but if you don’t, i’ll back down.” draco continues on his way until he becomes a tiny figure in the distance and you begin to give up on hope until you hear, “see you tomorrow loser!” followed by a tiny wave from the faraway boy. a tiny smile makes it to your face, “i’m sorry astoria, but i can’t give up right now.”

about two days later, you snuggle closer into your blanket, you get awoken by the abrupt flash of light in the room. your eyes barely open because of its sensitivity of the light. pansy stands by the door in her quidditch gear and stares at you, “you have ten minutes to get ready and be at the pitch, you know how flint is about being late.” after she exits the room, you sit up in bed and let out a yawn while walking over to get changed and refreshed.

by the time you reach the pitch, your teammates are already in the air taking laps while marcus flint stands at the entrance of the pitch. “why’re you late?” he asks with a stone cold expression, waiting for your answer. but before you could even open your mouth, he shouts at you, “ten laps around the pitch, running! go!” annoyed you start to jog. draco flies low to be right beside you, “how’s it going?” he teases with a grin, “buzz off malfoy.” draco brings one hand to chest, acting offended, “using last names now are we?” you give him a glare and start to jog faster, which he follows with flying a bit faster on his broom. you act annoyed but really, feel warm on the inside until a melodic voice interrupts. “draco! over here!” she shouts from a far. it was about six in the morning and all of the team quickly turns their head to the voice of astoria. you raise your eyebrow at draco, “your princess is waiting, go.” he gives you a small smirk and a nudge before flying over to her. as you finish up your final lap, you wipe the cold sweat off your forehead, mind you, its still winter and snowy. you get on your broom and fly up into the air, finally joining the practice.

you enter breakfast with the biggest yawn and frown about the excruciating practice. your thoughts get interrupted as you see your taken seat. the seat you sat in since first year, the seat you’ve eaten in for five years, the seat next to draco malfoy. pansy pats the seat next to her and as you begin to walk towards her, you get pulled towards the gryffindor table before being sat down next to hermione. your face slightly gives off panic before turning towards the people who sat you down, “morning hermione,” you say before turning to harry and ron, giving them a nod of your head, then turning back towards fred and george. “weasleys, did you need something?” you ask them, “am i even allowed to sit here? i obviously stand out.” the dark green of your uniform definitely sticking out in the sea of a vibrant red, “of course buddy-o.” most of the gryffindors at the table now staring at you before hermione rolls her eyes, “everyone mind your own business.” hermione gives you a small, polite smile to look over the fact that you were best friends with their own personal annoyance. “thank you hermione.” you whisper, giving her a small smile. harry glances down at your hand, “is it alright?” he asks as you look up from your plate of breakfast, “yeah, its been healing, minor burns,” you answer, thankful for his attempt to start up conversation.

while keeping a small conversation with the trio, your arm gets grabbed and pulled. “y/n, what are you doing associating with the enemy?” you scoff, “we’re just talking, draco,” he scoffs back at you before releasing your arm, “never thought you could betray your own house.” your eyes widen and narrow down to glare at him, “well maybe if you didn’t give my seat away, i would have room to sit at slytherin.” draco lets out huffs of annoyance, “there were plenty of seats, y/n. just look at anywhere on the table.” you also let out a sigh, “i would’ve had to sit by myself.” the whole hall stares at your confrontation with your best friend, “well y/n, here’s the truth, maybe nobody wants to sit next to you in the first place and-“ he gets cut off from the rest of the sentence by a slap to the face. his grimace softens as he realizes his words, “y/n, you know. i didn’t mean that.” your eyes fill up annoyance as you walk away. pansy stands up quickly and walks off to follow you, but before she fully leaves the hall, she turns towards draco, “you’re a love blinded idiot.”

instead of getting emotional, you just sit in silence, induced by your anger, next to the lake. pansy left you to grab your books from the hall, leaving you in the silence of nature. once again, the crunching of familiar footprints fill the air. “y/n. you know i didn’t mean any of that but i was just jealous, i guess. just seeing you with friends other than our little group made me jealous. just wanted to come and apologize. i am sorry, y/n l/n.” you stay silent for a few seconds before replying, “its fine. thank you for apologizing. i forgive you, i’m just a little embarrassed and hugely annoyed.” you let out a tiny chuckle, “you have to do something for me now, as compensation for your childish behavior,” he continues to stare at you, scared of what you could say, “you have to do my astronomy homework for a month.” you stretch your hand out, in which he responds to by shaking it. you stand up, “come on, we have history of magic to get to.” you finally look at his face, red by the slap mark you left on it, and try not to laugh, “sorry about the slap,” you say after suppressing your laughter, “its fine, i probably deserved it.” you nod your head in agreement, “i’d say so.”

during dinner, you sit next to pansy, giving draco a wink of access for astoria to sit in your seat. you listen to pansy while you platter on whatever was served at dinner on your plate and wait for dumblebore to finish speaking about the daily news. astoria gives draco a smile while using her fork to scatter around the food she didn’t want to eat. when she finishes eating, she glances over at your plate before finding a comment to say. “y/n,” you turn your attention away from pansy, along with draco and blaise, “are you really going to eat all of that?” you put a fake smile on your face and pretend to think, “hm, i think i am going to.” her smile turns into a snide look, “i just didn’t expect a girl of your stature to eat that much.” you widen your eyes at draco asking for help while laughs your encounter with the older girl, “i have a high metabolism?” she laughs softly, “i can see that judging by the fact that you’re not overweight after eating all of that food.” you give her a small smile before turning back to pansy. in all honesty, you couldn’t tell if the girl was being nice or extremely sarcastic.

the next day was saturday, meaning, game day. sitting at the slytherin table, you pick up an apple and bite into it, in replacement for the hefty meal yesterday night. the hall is mostly quiet besides the tiny murmurs of conversation amongst the few students there early, most probably sleeping in until the game. while you eat your apple, you spot the entrance of the weasley twins. george passes you a wink while fred gives you a slight smirk before they start stalking towards you, “morning,” you pass them a small smile, “morning weasleys,” the both of them give you a pat on the back, “this is for when gryffindor beats slytherin in todays match,” your eyes widen and you scoff at their bluntness, “i’ll make sure to return it when slytherin wins.” fred shakes his head while george speaks, “that won’t be necessary,” and before you could give one last remark, the both of them walk away to go eat breakfast. next, you saw astoria enter with her friends and not draco. you turn to pansy and whisper, “wheres draco?” she looks up to see astoria by herself, “maybe he’s sleeping in?” astoria sits down in her usual seat next to her friends and you walk over to her, “where’s draco?” she shrugs and continues her conversation with her friends. you walk back to pansy and grab your coat, “i’m going to go check on draco, maybe he did sleep in.” walking to the dungeons, you begin to worry about the boy.

entering his dark room, you squint your eyes to look for him on his bed, and to your prevail, you find him. you tiptoe into his room and quietly whisper, “draco,” he continues to stir in his sleep. you then slightly open the blinds, letting in a tiny bit of daylight to illuminate the boy’s face. you sit yourself on his bed and feel the warmth from his covered up body. he opens his eyes in alarm at the intruder, but relaxes when he realizes it was just you. you stare down at your best friend, “are you gonna come to breakfast?” he immaturely shakes his head no and buries it within his blanket. draco then grabs your hand and brings it to his forehead, “don’t tell me you’re sick.” he gives you an unamused look, “its all because of you.” your eyes widen and you let a tiny laugh, “me? you’re the one that came out last night when you were wet.” draco lets out a low groan, “fine, i’ll tell flint you can’t make it today and i’ll be back to bring you some food during the meal times. just go back to sleep,” you say and close the blinds, but before you leave, you whisper, “goodnight princess,” in which draco replies to with a low and annoyed, “y/n.”

before your quidditch match starts, you stretch your body after the trouble you got into for draco’s absence. as dean thomas announces the teams, you fly into the field and take a few laps before stopping in front of the twins. “get ready to lose y/n,” fred inserts, “you wish,” cormac mclaggen comes to taunt you further, “where’s your little boyfriend, l/n?” you roll your eyes, “he’s sick, have you got a problem?” he sniggers, “nope.” he replies popping the p. george shakes his head at his teammate, “just ignore him. that’s what we do.” he gives you a wink and goes back to pretend to listen to madam hooch.

halfway through the game, you wipe the sweat off of your forehead and keep your eye on one of the bludgers. successfully knocking the bludger out of angelina johnsons’ arms, you follow closely to it, head to head with george. you block the second bludger from hitting graham montague, your chaser, as he holds one in his arms to score. unfortunately, the bludger gets caught by mclaggen as he montague a small smirk before throwing the ball towards you. not reacting fast enough, it hits you in the gut and you fall backwards off your broom. blinded by the pain in your gut, you don’t notice how far away you are from your broom. luckily, george catches you and slowly carries you to the ground. madam hooch runs up to you in the middle of field after giving cormac a time out, having a hard time breathing. taking in raspy breaths, your eyes water up. you lay on your back as a stretcher takes you to the hospital wing. to ease the pain, madam pomfrey gives you pain relief potion as she examines your abdomen, “nothing broken my dear, just severely bruised.” you nod solemnly at her, “just stay here for overnight and continue to talk this potion to heal.” pansy enters the wing and gives you a smile, “that was awesome.” the both of you break out in laughter until you groan, “the way george caught you in the air, i thought i was going to lose my best friend today.” your conversation with her goes on until you interrupt, “so, draco is sick and i promised to bring him a meal at every meal time but, i can’t now so as my best friend, will you do it for me?” her face turns stone as she stares at you before bursting out into laughter at you facial expression. “of course silly. anyways, back to my story…” she continues.

after leaving you at the hospital, pansy packs a plateful of food before unlocking the door to draco’s bedroom. “wake up dork,” he opens his eyes to see pansy instead of you, “where’s y/n?” draco asks annoyed, “she got injured at today’s quidditch game, mclaggen threw the bludger at her and she’s in the hospital wing but-“ before pansy could finish her sentence, draco runs through the hallways, clad in his pajamas. finally reaching the hospital wing, he bursts through the entrance and spots you, “y/n are you okay? i should’ve gone to the game today.” draco spews out words and you stare at him before cutting him off, “i’m alright draco,” you grab his hand, “thank you for worrying but you’re sick. you shouldn’t be out of bed,” he takes in deep breaths, wiping the sweat off his forehead, “i just needed to see if you were alright.” your thumb rubs against his palm, “i’m good, so go back to your dorm and rest. if you’re not better by tomorrow, i promise i’ll be there.” he nods and reluctantly lets go of the warmth your hand held. you let out a sigh as you watch him walk away until the curtain next to your bed rips open, unveiling two redheaded twins. you slightly jump, “well, well, well. just tell him you love him.” fred starts, “i mean, its sort of obvious.” you shake your head at the boys, “i can’t,” they both let out huffs of annoyance, “why not?” george questions, “he’s with astoria right now. and he seems happy for the first in a while. i don’t want to take that away,” you pause, “anyways, you should go to dinner. i’ll be eating whatever madam pomfrey serves me.” the twins laugh at you before fred leans in close to your ear, “we have tons of pranks up our sleeves so if you want anything to do to mclaggen, we’ll be happy to provide.” you push the boy away with a close lipped smile, “thank you for the offer, but i’m going to have to pass it up for now.” fred lets out an, “understood,” as he and his twin walk out of the wing.

the next day, madam pomfrey releases you to breakfast after giving you one last potion for your bruises. you enter the hallways and a breeze blows through your hair as you start to speed walk to the hall. entering the great hall, all of your friends stare at your incredibly quick recovery. pansy runs up to you and squeezes you tightly, “pansy, a little looser please.” you laugh along with her and greet your other friends before spotting a seated draco with astoria’s arm looped around his own. he gives you an apologetic look and you return a small smile with a shake of your head to reassure him that it was alright. pansy informs you about their incoming trip to hogsmede later and asks if you could go, “yeah, i can go, i have to buy some more ink for my essay.” blaise then turns to draco, “oi malfoy, you coming?” draco sits still before opening his mouth to complain, “its cold and i’m sick. do you really think i’m going to go?” a small smirk appears on blaise’s face, “i heard y/n agreed to come.” draco’s head turns towards you with super sonic speed, “really?” you give him a closed lipped smile and very slow head nod. “then i’ll be there,” draco says, “me too!” astoria adds on. pansy gives her a look of disgust, “uh astoria, this is just for our friend group. we made a rule that there are no plus ones.” astoria then pouts and turns to draco, “draco, i could come right?” pansy rolls her eyes and pretends to gag. draco turns towards you and looks to you for help, “astoria, if you’d like to come, you’re welcome to come,” you say, earning a whine from pansy. “great! we’ll meet you at the exit of hogwarts.” you nod and send an extremely small smile towards her.

while you get ready, pansy waits for you on your bed. “y/n, i have no idea why you invited her, she’s literally the bane of our existence.” you chuckle at your dramatic best friend, “she’s dating draco, so we have to include her or else who knows what draco would do?” browsing through your closet, you pick out a slytherin sweater and a vintage poofy jacket. “y/n, the only reason why draco decided to come was because blaise told him you were coming. doesn’t that scream something to you?” you continue to look at yourself in the mirror, “no, it doesn’t. we’re just best friends pansy, nothing more.” her face droops down and she rolls her eyes, “you, my best friend, are the smartest witch in all of hogwarts but you’re too blinded by draco’s happiness to find your own,” shaking your head, you turn away from the mirror and walk to the door but before you exit, you stop, “i’m happy for him so it’s fine,” you say, sounding more like you’re trying to convince yourself rather than pansy.

your group of friends all meet at the exit of hogwarts and while you wait for draco and astoria to show up, you see the weasley twins. you smile and wave at them until fred waves you over to their location behind the tree. you look over at your occupied friends and walk over to them, “what’s up, weasleys?” they both stand towered over you, “y/n, we might’ve done something we weren’t supposed to do and now we have to go clean it up,” george begins, “mcgonagall’s orders,” fred adds and george continues, “we’ve got the trio but it’s too big of a mess so we’re recruiting people to help us clean.” you let out a sigh but nod your head, “okay, give me a second to tell my friends. wait for me at the entrance of the castle.” they both give you a salute and march over to the entrance as you walk towards your group of friends, now including draco and astoria. “hey,” you say as you see draco, now turning towards all your friends, “i have to go help the weasley twins today so, no hogsmede for me today,” you slightly pout, “y/n, why do you have to help the weasel twins?” you lightly punch him on the arm, “i’ll be going now,” your friends wave to you as you walk away until you hear, “wait y/n!” and you turn around to see draco jogging towards you, “i’m not going to go either,” your eyes widen at the boy while he gives you a smirk, “what about astoria?” his smirk falters as he gives you a genuine smile, “always thinking about others before yourself, i really don’t think slytherin was the right house for you. maybe hufflepuff?” you roll your eyes as you start to walk and his arm lays on your shoulders. “if i was in any other house, i would’ve avoided you at first sight,” he chuckles, “ow, that hurt,” he replies sarcastically.

as you enter the entrance of the castle, you see fred waiting for you and his eyes shift to draco, “you here to help, malfoy?” draco rolls his eyes, “yes weasley.” you pat draco on the back, “good boy,” his ear slightly turn red but the action goes unnoticed as you start a conversation with fred, “what did you even do in the first place?” a mischievous glint grows on fred’s face as he opens the door to an explosion of soap bubbles in mcgonagall’s classroom, leaving your eyes wide along with draco’s. “freddie!” george yells from across the room which attracts the attention of the students helping clean. you turn to draco, looking up at him in equal surprise as him. george comes and hands you a wet rag along with a bucket to help dissolve the bubbles surrounding the room. for the whole time, draco stood next to you and cleaned about two percent of the hundred percent you cleaned. on your way to dump out the bucket in the lavatory, you bump into graham montague. “hey y/n. sorry about the bludger the other day. if i blocked it for you, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt,” you shake your head, setting down the bucket full of bubbles, “no, it wasn’t your fault. if i had paid attention i wouldn’t have gotten hurt. don’t blame yourself.” he tilts his head to look down at you, “what’s the bucket for?” your head then tilts down to look at the bucket, “helping fred and george clean up their most recent prank,” graham nods his head in understanding, “do you need help?’ a tiny chuckle leaves your lips, “if you could help, it would be much appreciated,” he nods and takes the bucket from your grasp as the both of you continue to walk to the lavatory.

upon your return to the classroom with graham, draco looks at you before turning towards graham. he struts up to you and stretches his arm over your shoulder, getting face to face with graham. you sigh at his childish behavior, “thank you for helping graham, we’ll see you at quidditch practice tomorrow.” draco continues to stare graham down, “yeah, see you tomorrow y/n.” you push away from draco’s grasp and go to continue cleaning.

at the end of the weasley’s cleaning fiasco, you walk to dinner with draco in silence. not an awkward silence but a comfortable silence, “so how’s it going with astoria?” you ask out of the blue, “it’s alright but it’s a good thing she’s not as annoying as her younger version, daphne.” he retorts “daphne’s kind.” you retort back, “oh y/n. only seeing the positives in people.” draco stops to fix his dress robe while you continue to walk without him until stopping to turn around and check on him only to notice astoria clinging onto to his arm. draco tries to find you over astoria’s shoulder only to find that you had disappeared. you walk out to the same spot next to the lake. the wind blew through your hair as you stood by the edge of the lake, glancing at the icy water. you hear the noise of rowdy boys behind you before feeling a push in the back, towards the lake. landing with a splash, you hold your breath and try to swim back up to the surface but the weight of your wet clothing dragged you back down, along with the unhealed bruises around your abdomen. floating down peacefully, the cold water engulfs you whole and you let out a final breath of air.

in the meantime, draco stands next to astoria as she smothers him. he firms himself up as he prepares himself to break up with her. “astoria, i think we need to take a-“ but he soon gets cut off as he sees you in the arms of cedric diggory, unconscious. “what the hell did you do to her, diggory?!” he shouts, worried about his best friend. “i saved her from the lake when mclaggen pushed her in, now move out of the way so i can take her to the hospital wing.” in that instant moment, draco realizes that it wasn’t the thought of being with astoria that mad him happy, but the fact that you would be there for him no matter what decision he makes. rage fills draco’s whole body as he moves out of cedric’s way and to find cormac.

when you wake up, you find yourself surrounded by your friends and a bloodied up cormac mclaggen. pansy notices you and mouths a quiet, “are you okay?” to not wake the other boys up and you reply with a nod, unfortunately, actually waking the boys up. draco releases his hold on your hand and goes to hug you. he chuckles in your ear, “you have no idea how relieved i am that you are okay.” you chuckle back at his words, “what, you didn’t think i could swim?” he releases from his hug and then looks at you with a serious face, “i’m sorry i wasn’t there for you. i just got caught up with astoria, but i have something to say,” he pauses as he looks at your reaction, “guys, i hope you still know that we’re all here.” pansy interrupts.

draco turns around to mouth a get out before turning back to you, “y/n, over the past weeks, i realize that i spent less time around and to be honest, it was killing me. it killed me to see you around the weasel twins more,” you interrupt him, “weasley twins, can’t you get it right once-“ he cuts you off by putting his hand over your mouth to silence you, “y/n, i’m trying to be serious. i want to spend more time with you, my best friend. i hope you know that i love you even though i don’t express it everyday.” he jokes while your expression changes from joking to a straight face. “draco, i know you love me because we’re best friends and we have been since we were little but,” you give him a sad smile, “you don’t love me the way you love her. because all i’ll ever be is your best friend but she could be your wife. so maybe save the i love you’s for her.” draco’s face falls at your words, “yeah you’re right, i don’t love you the way i love her because i love you more. hell, i get nervous every time i’m around you alone or when you let me play with your hair when you study or when you come to take care of me when i’m sick. y/n, i love you so much and i want to be more than just best friends.” your eyes widen and tear up slightly, “but we can’t if you think that way.” you let out a big sigh but a large smile erupts on your face. “draco, i’ve loved you since our first year when hermione told me the story of you in the dark forest. but you can’t do to this to astoria,” his face turns a bit guilty, “i forgot to mention that i broke up with her while you were being treated. supposedly she asked mclaggen to push you in. she didn’t take it very well so i would sleep in my room for the time being,” you chuckle at his confession, “will do,” draco quickly shuts you up by pressing his lips against yours. the both of you hear a “finally!” from outside and you feel a smile form on draco’s face. he pulls away and smiles at you, “come on y/n, lets go.” draco says as he grabs your hand but you make no attempt to leave your bed, “oh i actually have to stay here for one more night because i need to more potions, but i’ll see you tomorrow at breakfast.” he lets out a noise of disappointment and kisses you on the forehead before leaving the room.

the next morning, you wake up from your bed in the hospital wing and walk to breakfast by yourself until you meet cedric. “oh cedric, thank you for saving me.” he gives you a relieving smile, “it’s no problem but i almost got killed by malfoy for carrying you while you were unconscious,” he chuckles at you surprised reaction, “i am so sorry about that,” cedric shakes his head, “it’s alright, it’s good to see he cares.”

after waving goodbye to cedric, you walk out to the snowy lake once again, only to see draco already there waiting for you. “draco? why are you here?” his face lights up as he spots you, “i was tired of waiting for you at breakfast and i knew you normally come here so i just decided to wait for you here.” draco opens up his coat as you walk towards him and he wraps his arms around you, engulfing you in his coat’s wings. he leans in closely to whisper in your ear, “i can’t wait till i marry you and we start our own family,” you give him a small laugh at his cheesy words, “calm down mr. malfoy, we only started dating yesterday.” he pulls away from you and stares at your face, “but i feel like we’ve been dating for seven years,” draco leans closely to you and kisses you gently as both of your rosy cheeks illuminate off of each other.

pansy and blaise watch the both of their best friends from a far. “could they be any grosser? like calm down, it’s only eight am on a monday morning.” pansy rolls her eyes, “let them have this moment, i honestly was getting tired of listening to both of them complain about their ‘unrequited’ love for each other.” blaise nods his head in acknowledgment.

draco and you watch as pansy and blaise stuff each other’s face into the fluffy snow, “i love you draco,“ you say as he has your face cupped in his hands, “i love you more y/n. now lets go to breakfast, can’t have you hungry today.” you give a large close lipped smile as draco grabs your hand and stuffs into his pocket while the both of you walk into the castle. as the both of you near the castle, you ask, “did you beat up cormac?” draco continues on his path in silence before answering, “of course. he hurt my girl, and we can’t let him get away with it.” you roll your eyes, “thank you, i guess?” he laughs at you and kisses you on the forehead as the both of you continue your walk to the breakfast hall.

a/n: hi! this is probably one of my longest fics and it took legit 4 business days to write this lol. also, this may be the last fic i post in oct, but please enjoy it along with my other stories!

masterlist

[fnf-amateur-writing]

Hello! Can I request a scenario where l Updike with an s/o who got kidnapped and now he has to go save them- if u feel uncomfortable with that you can just do general relationship headcanons for him!

Hey there, Anon. I'm cool with your prompt, no worries!

TW: Kidnapping and violence.

Updike finding out S/O was kidnapped

Everything was rather dull at work. Sure, dealing with anomalies can be cool, but it wears on Updike after a while. Everyday was starting to become nothing more than paperwork, keeping tabs on the freely roaming safer anomalies, and trying and failing to kill Whitmore. Fortunately, his lunch break finally started after a long and boring morning.

Once he readjusted his tie and tucked away his trusty gun in his pocket, he went on a near daily walk to a local cafe. To be honest, it wasn't all that boring, since he now got to be with you during his lunch breaks. About a month ago, you two found out that you took your breaks at the same time. The cafe was also conveniently in between your workplaces, allowing you to walk an equal distance.

Without any incidents or that pestering metal head, Updike made his last turn, with the cafe now being just two buildings down. Strangely, the police were also two buildings down, talking to an employee that Updike recognised in front of the prematurely closed cafe. Avoiding involvement, Updike quickly turned around, waiting until he out of sight of them before checking his phone. You were always there first, so you probably texted him a heads up, but his phone showed no new messages.

It was pretty annoying, but no big deal. He'll just go somewhere else, and maybe you'll be there too if he's lucky.

~~~

The phone next to him rings, whilst Updike sat alone in his office, showing the front desk receptionist's name. That was rather unusual; that number almost never calls him directly, so it was probably important enough to be an exception. "Updike speaking," he spoke in his monotone voice, which was in a tone that easily showed how he says that a dozen times a day.

"Mr. Updike, the police are requesting your presence outside."

Okay, now that was very unusual. Not that the police are here, they show up all the time whenever a case involves an anomaly. But for them to make him go outside, when they usually go up to see him or a collegue, was odd. And he had a clean record too, so it's not like they were going to arrest him.

"I'll be right there," he said. He felt somewhat stressed from the sudden request, so he went a faster pace to the lift--to which he almost pressed the wrong button. He and a cop quickly made eye contact the moment the lift opened, and he followed the man as he beckoned him outside.

"Now, I know you're busy, so I'll get right to the point," the officer says, pulling a phone from his pocket. "Do you recognise this phone and the owner of it?" Updike wish he could say no, but he couldn't; it was clearly your phone, except it now has a large crack on the screen. "Yes, it belongs to my partner. Their name is (Y/N) (L/N)." As clear as he made those sentences, his throat was sore from the dread.

"Sir, are you aware that they've been kidnapped."

... No.

~~~

Looking back at it, he wasn't sure how he kept calm the whole time as the police explained what had happened. Some man had taken you right in front of the cafe. It happened so quickly, that the witnesses didn't seem to notice anything wrong until it was too late. They contacted him when told by employees that he always sat at the same table as you.

As he rushed home, he didn't quite know what he felt. It was a mixture of sadness, anger, stress, and whatever the hell else that couldn't be named that made his hair grey. But he wasn't going home just to wait in misery until the police did something; he was going to look for some clues, as recommended by the authorities. He wasn't aware of any troubles you may have wih your family and friends, but he was informed that most kidnappings are done by people the victim knows, so he had to snoop around your stuff to see if he could find anything to report.

However, he almost slammed himself into his own front door when something else caught his attention: a plain white envelope taped to the door. There was no markings or writing on the outside, Updike noted as he took it for inspection, but he could tell it had a letter in it. Surely, it couldn't be a coincidence this showed up the same day you were taken.

As he went inside, closing the door behind him, he didn't take another step away from the door before tearing the letter open. Within the envelope was a typed letter, which had a clear message despite never mentioning you or Updike by name. Also made clear was that this was nobody you knew, nor was it an anomaly trying to spite him, but rather a particularly greedy criminal who took notice of who you were with.

The letter demanded an absurd amount of cash to be hand delivered, an amount that clearly overestimated even his own wealth. And if he brought anyone with him or brought a weapon, then you would be shot on the spot. Finally, he had until midnight to do so, too, adding onto the stress.

The stress started to become a bit much as his hair grew darker. He had no way of knowing whether the bastard was bluffing, but it wasn't worth trying to find out. But still, there didn't seem to be a good way out anyways. It felt like he was about to snap, feeling some sparks from his head and... a spark of an idea.

He went up a flight of stairs to a closet within the hallway. There wasn't anything remarkable about it's contents, but he took interest on one side, where some suitcases of his were stored. Only one of these was useful right now: a sleek metal suitcase he can't remember even using, but he remembered it being there. After grabbing the case, he ran back downstairs while neglecting to close the closet door.

Now, he wasn't going to place any money in it. No, nothing would be in it. But he had an idea, because maybe the guy didn't quite know who they decided to mess with.

~~~

Updike parked his car on the side of the road, getting out in the abandoned yet familiar area. It was a small part of the outskirts of the city that eventually lost it's population and was left to rot, which amazed him that it hasn't been torn down yet. The only people who regularly come here are the homeless and obnoxious teenagers with cameras who pretend that one of the buildings are haunted for internet clout. However, he does remember coming here too a long time ago to hunt down Whitmore a couple times.

The meeting place was a short walk away, having used to be a local library. The evening sky was getting darker by the minute, and the sun was near set behind Updike as he looked into the old library. As dark as it was, a light was barely visible from the entrance, partially blocked by empty bookshelves. With the case in hand, he walked through the shattered glass double doors and in between two of the shelves.

"I'm here."

The light across the library shifted and footsteps approached. The man looked as dodgy as he expected, except with a bit of a 1950's greaser look to him, and the gun the man held never pointed to anything but Updike. He placed the lantern onto the shelve and approached, saying "hand it over." Definitely not a negotiating type.

Time passed too slow, yet also too fast. Though he normally used his head, Updike had to channel what was within him elsewhere or else the man would shoot him seeing the thunder from his head. Hard, sure, but dong it for you was a pretty good motivator.

In three, two...

As soon as both hands were on the case's handle, Updike managed to give a hard zap through his hand. The case's material made it guaranteed it would shock him, and shock him very badly. He shouted at the sensation comparable to that of a taser, unable to pull the trigger before collapsing. Updike wasn't sure if he was conscious, but it didn't matter since he was already slamming the case into his face. Giving a man a free nose bleed such as this one was usually seen as too barbaric for Updike's taste, but damn it was satisfying.

He took the man's gun and briefly searched his pockets for anything else he might use as a weapon. He pocketed the lighter for the box of cigarettes he carried, since he might wake up and pull a fast one by burning the place down. And then there was a key, and not a usual key one would think of. In fact, Updike knew from the shape that it was meant to unlock a pair of handcuffs. It may be best if he took that as well.

"(Y/N)!" he called out, "are you there?" He made his way to the back, peeking into some rooms as he passed. He heard some sounds coming from nearby, causing him to peek through the old bathroom door. There you were, gagged with a cloth and both hands cuffed to a pipe beneath a sink. You were trying to say something, so he quickly worked the cloth off your mouth and let it fall under your chin. Upon closer inspection he now saw how disheveled you looked and that one of your eyes was black and swollen.

"G-GABRIEL!" you finally managed to scream before coughing from finally having your mouth to breathe through. "I thought you- I thought..." He hushed you before using the key he found on your cuffs, allowing you give him a much needed embrace. "Shhh, it's okay," he said as you cried, "I've dealt with him."

"Now," he picks you off the ground and carries you away from the dreaded building, "let's go. I have an interesting story for the cops."

Now for a surprise bonus ;)

Aftermath headcanons:

Unsurprisingly, you both took off work for a while.

Regardless of how well you can handle trauma, Updike WILL take you to a therapist. He's already got one booked, so you don't have a choice really.

For the first time in the relationship, Updike has been the one to initiate cuddles. He's also just as paranoid as you are, and has become somewhat clingy as a result.

When it was nearing the day you two would return to work, you discussed plans on preventing another incident. Though it may seem a bit far, you agreed on wearing a small tracking device clipped to your clothes until the fear wore off.

The forced therapy sessions did come with benefits for the future. When you eventually had to testify against your kidnapper in court, you felt more confident in your words and managed to tell them everything without a breakdown.

The man didn't stand a chance and earned himself several years in prison.

Finally, once you felt everything was behind you, you walked together to the cafe again. It was a nice cafe and it would be a shame if they stopped visiting.

Some of the regulars and employees recognised you two, and welcomed you back. And as you two sat in your usual spots with drinks on the house, you could finally say it was a pretty nice day with nothing to worry about.

[ladydimitrescuspet]

Some Things Stay The Same And Some Times They Change

ao3 link! this is horribly written but here's the break up fic based on this post of mine! I'm also going to have three different endings for this! please enjoy and apologies for any grammatical errors!

***

“I don’t understand, Y/N. Where is this coming from?” Alcina asked before she emptied her wine glass, setting it on the table closest to her.

It was a fair question considering the fact that you told Alcina that the two of you should breakup. However, you didn’t have an answer to her question. You leaned back into your chair a bit, the cup in your hands shaking ever so slightly as you held it. You stared at the liquid in the cup, your mind racing with thoughts. You were so preoccupied with them that you hadn’t noticed that Alcina had risen from her seat and was now kneeling in front of you.

“I’m sorry,” You whispered as you felt a tear slide down your cheek, plopping down into the contents of your cup. Alcina’s hands came around yours, prying the cup from them before she sat it down on the table. “I’m so sorry.” Your shoulders were starting to shake as more tears fell down your cheeks and you found yourself weeping in your chair.

Alcina moved one of her hands and used the pad of her thumb to wipe away some of your tears. “Hush now, darling. No need to apologise. I just wish that I understood what’s going on right now.” She replied as her hand cupped your cheek and you leaned into her touch.

You shook your head slightly. “I can’t. I’m sorry.” You mumbled into the palm of her hand. You looked into her eyes and the sorrow in them broke your heart. “I’m so sorry, Al. I wish this could be forever.” You said softly, stumbling over your words slightly before sniffling.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment before you used your hands to move hers away from your cheek. You didn’t let go of her hand, you held it, rubbing your thumb over her leather glove. You sniffled again before sighing and finally letting go of her hand.

“You should get a new hand servant, My Lady.” You said.

Alcina frowned at your words. “Nonsense, dear. This won’t have any effect on our professional relationship.” You had wanted to interrupt her but decided against it.

You licked at your sleep before speaking again. “With all due respect, My Lady, but I’d feel more comfortable if you did.” You rubbed your arms, feeling a bit cold. “And I’d like to request that you and your daughters, despite how fond they’ve become of me, treat me like you would any of the other servants, no special treatment from any of you.” You were surprised at how strong your words came out of you, not wavering in the slightest.

Alcina’s eyes searched your own for a minute before she gave a curt nod and stood. She cleared her throat before speaking, her role as Lady Dimitrescu seeping out with every word. “Very well then. You’re to retire for the night. Amelie will be around to collect your uniform and bring you your new uniform to wear.” She paused for a moment; she was pacing around the room. “I’ve decided that you’ll be cleaning the castle with minimal help tomorrow, so I expect you to be awake before anybody else. Is that clear?”

You nodded your head before standing up from your chair. “I understand, My Lady.” You replied. Your eyes were starting to well up again. “Good night, My Lady.” You quickly made your way out of the room before you took off running to your old room in the servant’s hall.

You weren’t surprised that you still had your old room, you’d stayed there a few times during your relationship with the Lady. But now that was over and this would be the only room you slept in at the castle.

You didn’t sleep at all before you made your way downstairs to eat a quick breakfast. You had spent the whole night packing up all of the things that Alcina had gifted you during your relationship. You had Amelie put the packed up gifts in Alcina’s room since she was her new hand servant, or so you assumed. You knew that if you had delivered it yourself that Alcina would’ve wanted you to keep them and you couldn’t do that, you couldn’t find it in yourself to keep anything she’d given you.

Making your way to a closet, you got all the things you needed to clean the castle. You had prepared yourself for having to clean the castle, making a plan on which rooms to clean first before working in the hallways. But the one thing you didn’t prepare for was the smell of her perfume. She wasn’t in the room you were getting ready to clean, was she? Did she know your plan or was it simply a coincidence? You froze in the hallway that was still slightly dark aside from the lights on the walls illuminating the hallway. You could feel the tears stinging in the back of your eyes. Should you just skip that room for now and continue onto the next one or should you just tough it out? Closing your eyes and letting out a soft exhale, you opted for the latter, moving toward the room that Alcina was in.

You felt her eyes land on you as soon as you entered the room. You bowed slightly. “My Lady,” You greeted before busying yourself around the room. It was one of the many sitting rooms Alcina had in the castle, you were quite familiar with it, always finding yourself in there when you wanted a quiet place to read or take a nap.

Alcina took a drag from her quellazaire and a sip of her wine before clearing her throat. “You didn’t want to keep your gifts.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. You stayed quiet, not offering her a reply. “I don’t take kindly to being ignored, little one.” Her words sounded a little slurred and it was only then that you noticed the multiple bottles of her Sanguis Virginis littering the room.

You realised that this was a mistake. You shouldn’t have walked in here knowing that she would be in there with you. You quickly made your way around the room, cleaning the shelfs and organising the furniture. She didn’t try to speak with you after you didn’t answer her question. Alcina felt a tinge of sadness wave over her when she heard you sniffle and suddenly the room became too small for the two of you so she grabbed the bottle she was currently drinking from and exited the room.

You had stopped working when you heard her get, looking over your shoulder slightly to see her ducking out of the room. A part of you wanted to go after her, but you didn’t. Instead, you opted for collecting her wine bottles and cleaning the rest of the room before you went on to clean the rest of the castle.

That was your routine for the next three months. You ate, cleaned the castle, avoiding Alcina when you could, ate again, and then went to sleep, as best as you could, just to do it all over again the next day. Except the next day was your birthday and when you left your room, your foot hit something. You sighed as you leaned down to pick the box up. You didn’t bother opening it and made your way to the person who had left it for you. Alcina.

When you reached her room, you knocked on the door. It was swiftly opened by Amelie who had taken your old position. She frowned a bit when she saw you but then gave you a small smile as she let you enter the room.

Upon entering the room, you lifted the box up. “I can’t accept this.” You said as the two golden eyes in the vanity mirror stared at you. Her stare caused you to shift on your feet slightly before you spoke again. “Can we speak? In private?” You asked.

Alcina nodded her head and waved Amelie away. “I’ll see you for tea, pet.” The girl nodded her head at Alcina’s words before leaving the room. When you didn’t speak after a while, Alcina cleared her throat. “We’re in private so speak.”

You fidgeted with your fingers. “Okay. I, well, you know I appreciate the, um, gifts, but you can’t…” You paused for a second, trying to keep your voice cracking. “You have to stop, Alcina. We’re not together anymore.” You said softly, grimacing at her bitter the words tasted.

“You didn’t say anything when I returned a gift to you, one that you’d given back to me, for the anniversary of your arrival.” She replied. It was true, you hadn’t said anything about it. In fact, you had kept it, you were wearing it. “If this is truly what you want, I simply won’t buy you anything else.”

You nodded your head before setting down the gift that you had parted with for the second time since the break up. “It wouldn’t be right.” You said before you left the room. You wiped at your eyes as you left.

You didn’t know this, but Alcina didn’t really stay true to her words. Every time she went to the village, she’d buy something that she thought you might like. She never gave the gifts to you, instead she put them with other gifts that she had piling up in one of her study closets. Often times when she was missing having you around or Amelie was doing something that annoyed her, she’d go through the closet, looking at the gifts that you’d returned and the gifts she never gave you.

On a particular stormy day, she’d sent Amelie out of the room and was going through the gifts. There was one gift that she was looking for, but no matter how many times she rummaged through the closet she couldn’t find it. Alcina thought that maybe you had forgotten to give it back to her, but she watched you set it down on a table in her room. Servants had come and gone out of the room since she’d put your things in the room and her mind went straight to the next most logical explanation as to why it was missing, someone had obviously stolen.

As Alcina exited the room, she found Amelie standing in the hallway. “Dear, what are you doing standing in the hallway?” Amelie opened her mouth to speak, but Alcina raised her hand.  “Never mind your reason. Gather the servants in the main hall, leave Y/N to their tasks, this doesn’t concern them.”

Amelie nodded her head. “Right away, My Lady.” She said before scurrying downstairs. By the time she’d gotten all of the servants to the main hall, the Lady of the Castle was waiting. “Would you like me to stand with them, My Lady?” Alcina shook her hand and pointed to her side and that’s where Amelie went to stand.

“You may be wondering why you’re all here. The reason is simple. Something’s been stolen from my study and I’ve concluded that one of you have stolen it.” The servants started pleading with her, claiming that they hadn’t done anything. “Silence. You will speak when I call on you, if you speak out of turn, you’ll head straight to the cellar. “Andrei, you may speak first.”

While Alcina interrogated her servants, you were being approached by her three daughters, Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela. They weren’t exactly quiet in their movements, so you were prepared for them before they arrived.

“What can I do for you, My Lady’s?” You asked as you continue to dust a table in the hallway.

Daniela spoke up first. “I- We know that you’ve given Mother back anything she’s ever gifted you. But we also know that she gave you back something that you returned to her again.” Daniela said as she placed the locket on the table in front of you.

“We also know that you haven’t been sleeping well since you gave it back. The servants talk. A lot.” Bela added. “We thought it might help you sleep better if you had it with you.”

Cassandra nodded her head. “We know how much this gift from Mother meant to you and it would be a shame if you didn’t keep it.”

“And it doesn’t matter if you and Mother aren’t together anymore, Y/N. You’re like family to us so we want you to keep the locket to remember all of the good times we all had together.” Daniela said.

You turned to face them, your face was wet with tears. “Thank you.” You said before you pulled all three of them in for a hug. “But you still have to treat me like everybody else in the castle, no special treatment.” You said as you pulled back, wiping the tears from your face.

The three girls smiled and nodded at you before saying their goodbyes. As they headed down the hallway, they could hear their Mother yelling in the main hall. They each looked at each other with confused looks before turning into their respective swarms and heading down there.”

“Every single one of you have given me such flimsy excuses as to why something belonging to me is missing. It would do me no good to punish all you, so I’ll only punish the ones that have been assigned to clean that study.” Before she could get another word in, her daughters appeared.

“Mother, what’s going on?” Bela asked.

Alcina sighed before she addressed them. “Girls, something of mine has been stolen and I believe the thief is among our servants.” Alcina replied.

The three of them looked at each other, knowing exactly what she was talking about. “Mother, th- It was me.” Daniela said.

Alcina’s lips pressed together in a tight line and she dismissed the servants from the hall, including Amelie, with a snap of her fingers. “What, pray tell, do you mean, Daniela?” She asked with a raised eyebrow.

“This is about Y/N’s locket, yes? If so, then I took it so that we could return it to them.” Daniela said. “They haven’t been sleeping well since it was returned to you and we thought… well, we wanted them to keep it because it’s always meant so much to them since you gave it to them.”

Alcina’s hard expression softened at her daughter’s explanation. “And did they accept it?” The girls nodded their heads at their Mother. “I suppose I can forgive you for going through my study, Daniela, but you won’t be allowed to hunt with your sisters for a month and you’ll be on cellar duty in that time period.”

Daniela nodded her head. “Of course, Mother, I understand.”

"I wish you would've told me about your idea, darling." Alcina said as she walked toward her daughters. Daniela bowed her head, but Alcina lifted it back up with her finger. "It was very thoughtful of you to re-return the locker to Y/N." Alcina gave her daughters a smile before sending them away.

Alcina decided that she'd stop by your room to see how you were doing. But when she got there, she could hear you crying. It was something that you'd been doing since the break up, crying until you found yourself fast asleep. Alcina decided against knocking on your door, instead she walked away and back to her chambers. She didn't want to risk upsetting you any more than you already were.

You had known that Alcina was standing outside of your door, you could see her shadow under the door. A part of you wanted to call out to her, wishing that she would've knocked on the door instead of leaving. But the other part of you was grateful that she had decided to leave you alone.

You started at the locket in your hand, the one that Alcina had first gifted to you on Christmas. It was the last time you had celebrated the holiday with the Dimitrescu's. And inside the locket was a picture of you, Alcina, and her daughters. You remembered just how emotional you'd gotten over receiving the gift, it was one of the best things you'd ever gotten from someone.

You let out a small hiccup as your cries died down a bit. You held the locket close to you as you closed your eyes, letting sleep overcome you.

[queenmuzz]

Devil’s Advocate

You’ve read the Dante’s Valentine’s Day Special, now it’s his brother’s time!

You awoke to the soft delicate scent of roses, and knew your ‘secret’ admirer had made yet another appearance.  ‘Secret’ was definitely a bit of an exaggeration, but still, you enjoyed these clandestine little gifts you had received, and were willing to wait as long as it took for the man responsible to reveal himself.

That man, of course, was the stoic, stony, yet surprisingly sensitive Elder son of Sparda, Vergil.  As a demon hunter yourself, you had come into contact with the Legendary Devil Hunter, Dante quite a while ago, but only recently, had you met the twin brother he’d never spoken to you about.  You never asked, but you sensed some tension, albeit rather gentle tension between the brothers, but you had decided ‘any friend and/or relative of Dante, is a friend of mine’.  And so, you attempted to befriend the aloof man, and though it took a while, it actually wasn’t as hard as you had expected.  

You had proven yourself an adept fighter, a voracious reader, and a perceptive listener, to the man, and cautiously, (and much to Dante’s surprise), you’d formed a friendship with him, a silent understanding that you had each other’s back, that he’d be at your side when fighting off the denizens of Hell, and you’d be there when he tried to figure out how to navigate a (frankly terrifying) world he hadn’t been a part of for over two decades.  

It HAD been nice, enjoying his silent presence, until your friendship had blossomed into something more serious...at least on your end.  Even a blind man could tell he was attractive, and behind his stony mask, there was a man who was deep down, courteous and kind.  A man you could imagine spending the rest of your life with.  But there was a teensy weensy fly in the ointment: You had no idea if Vergil would ever reciprocate your feelings.  It had taken so much time and patience to form a platonic relationship with him, and you didn’t want to destroy what was a perfectly good friendship over something as trivial as unrequited feelings.

But then, a box of chocolates had appeared on your desk one day.  Your favourite, the ones with the silky smooth French Vanilla filling, straight from the little chocolatier from across town.   Dante also had been hovering around, just out of sight, and just happened to walk in as you opened the box, making you suspect he had gotten them for you.  But seeing as he was more interested in ‘helping’ you eat the contents, as opposed to your reaction, you chalked it up to a thankful client.  Strange, it didn’t have a note accompanying it.

Then, a few weeks later… something appeared on your dresser in the small room you ‘rented’ (AKA, helped Dante keep the lights on) from the devil in red.  It was a beautiful green leather planner, with a matching enamel pen, all wrapped simply with a sky blue silk ribbon.  It had been your first clue that the box of chocolates were not just a gift from an anonymous client.  

Because you had seen this exact planner in the window of a little out-of-the way boutique while you were out running errands, and had stopped to admire the fine craftsmanship, but winced at the price tag.  You had planned to buy it later on, when you got paid from your latest job, but by then, it was gone, purchased by another customer.

The fact that this was the exact same handcrafted book that had been on display, and was now your possession, was no coincidence.  And...who was with you to run errands on that very day, who watched your eyes lit up as you peered at it through the glass?  Vergil.  There could be no doubt, the man was leaving gifts for you.  A token of friendship?  Both gifts could be seen as purely platonic, but there was always the chance…

And yet, when you came down the stairs that morning, to see Vergil sipping on his morning tea, trying to figure out the new fangled ‘cell-phone’ his son had given him, he barely gave you anything but a perfunctory nod, which made you question if he really was the gifter.  After all, even someone so emotionally guarded as Vergil would give some sort of clue, a slight inquisitiveness at why you couldn’t get that darn smile off your face.  But nothing. Perhaps the poor man was too shy to admit his feelings, or even quite understand his feelings for you...romantic or not.  And so, you would not mention the gift to him or anyone else.

A week later was the thing that really made up your mind.  Not only were you awoken by the scent, you could have sworn as you opened your eyes, a flash of bright blue, and what sounded like someone hurriedly leaving your room in a tremendous hurry.  (Like Dante when you caught him eating the last of your chocolates)

There, placed delicately on the pillow beside your head, was a single blue rose, its soft velvet petals unfurling in the morning light.  It had been freshly picked, and had no blemish.  You sat up, and cautiously picked it up, as if you weren’t quite sure it was a figment of a rapidly fading dream, and inhaled its scent.  This was no dream, the sweet scent was too real, too vibrant.

This sealed it.  The gift was from Vergil, and the meaning was clear.  One did not leave secret flower gifts to people they considered as ‘just friends’.  You spun the stem between your fingers, admiring its beauty from every angle.  You’d have to find a way to thank Vergil for such a thoughtful gift, to admit you had feelings for him too...but first, you’d need something to place the rose in, to preserve its beauty.  And Dante must have a vase in his kitchen somewhere….

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

It turns out, Dante did NOT have a vase in his kitchen.  Still, there had been a champagne glass, with the words “HAPPY NEW YEAR! 2007!” written on it, so it would have to do.  It didn’t dampen your happiness as you hummed and spritzed the flower with water, as you placed it in the newly cleaned glass. You were so happy, that you hadn’t noticed that someone also had entered the kitchen, and was silently watching you.  Only when you spun around, finally deciding on a perfect place to place it, did you come face to face with Vergil.

He seemed pale, even more than usual as he stood there, still in his pajamas, not looking at you, but at the flower in your hand.  After a few moments of awkward silence, he spoke. “Where.” a pause, as if he was having trouble voicing his thoughts, “where did you get that?”

You were taken aback.  Why would he ask such a question?  Surely he had given you the gift!

You decided to answer as truthfully as you could.

“It was on my pillow this morning.  I thought maybe you had given it to me…” you trailed off dumbly as he just stared at you.  “Along with the chocolates and the notebook…” Now Vergil looked alarmed, and you realized you had just misjudged the situation.  It was obvious that he hadn’t given you anything.  But even now, you searched his face, hoping against hope that he was just joking, that he was playing dumb, even though it would be totally out of character for him.

And without warning, he spun around, left the kitchen with footsteps that were quiet to a normal person, but for you, they sounded like the angry stomps of an elephant.  Out of sight, you heard him ascend the stairs, and then...his bedroom door slammed.

You stood there, confused and upset, the blue rose petals trembling in their makeshift vase.  You felt like something had changed between yourself and Vergil, and you were pretty sure it could never be restored. 💙💙💙💙💙💙

To say Vergil was angry was an understatement.  He was absolutely livid, as he stalked up the stairs and into his room.  Not at you, that was absurd.  You were innocent in all of this, an unfortunate victim.  His anger was directed at one person...himself.

He yanked open the nightstand drawer, and to his fury, the chocolates he had placed there a month and a half ago were gone.  He had heard you and Dante speaking about sweet tooths, and you had admitted that there was a little shop that sold dark chocolates with gooey french vanilla filling that you could die for.

And so, without really thinking, he had gone there, and purchased a box for you.  Why?  As  a token of friendship? A way of saying ‘thank you’ for being patient and understanding with him?  In the end, he couldn’t really decide WHY he wanted to give them to you, and so he placed them in the bottom of the drawer, away from prying eyes, (or his brother’s sensitive nose).  Maybe he could give it to you when he had a plausible excuse, such as your birthday.  But now...it had vanished.

Beginning to panic, he ran over to his wardrobe, and began pushing things aside on the top shelf.  The planner, which he was certain he had hidden under several of his sweaters, was also nowhere to be seen.

What you’d been doing that day, he couldn’t quite recall, only that he felt some compulsion to come with you.  To protect you? No...it was just to run some errands...then why had he felt better by your side?

As you and him chatted about plans for his son and grandchildren to visit, you had suddenly stopped at a storefront window, your eyes locked on something in the display.  A beautiful, handbound planner, with a matching pen as a mate.

“My old one is nearly used up...I’ve been looking for one to replace it, but something a bit more durable than what you get in a big box store, you know?”  Why had his chest hurt when he saw your crestfallen look at the price tag, and how you reluctantly walked away?

Only a day later, when he went back to purchase the book, did the clerk help him realize why he was feeling the way he did.  

“Ah a gift for someone special?” they asked as they tied a decorative bow around it.

“Yes...It’s for…” a friend?  No...that wasn’t it.  It was something more, at least for him.  He honestly didn’t know what you felt about him, and frankly, he was terrified to find out.

“It’s for someone very special to me”

And yet, when he had come home, instead of handing it to you, taking secret delight in the joy on your face… he had hidden it, out of sight, out of mind.  Because what if he was overstepping?  What if you saw him as just a friend, and nothing more?  Could he ever face you again, after destroying something he and you had worked so hard to build?

And now...he looked at his dresser, to find nothing but a glass of water.  The night before, he had, on a whim, stopped at a florist and purchased one, perfect blue rose.  This time, unlike the chocolates and the planner, who had a much longer lifespan, the rose would lose its lustre in a day, forcing him to give it to you, to confess his feelings for you.  

And yet, as you smiled at him as he walked in that evening, telling him that supper was almost ready, did he change his mind.  He’d just place it on the dresser, and let it bloom for him, and him alone, a reminder of his cowardice.

How you had gotten a hold of all three things, made no sense to him.  

Wait...three?

You had mentioned the book and chocolates, and he had seen the rose in your hands, but you hadn’t said anything about the fourth intended gift. He had been contracted to kill a demon that had been summoned by some robbers trying to break into a jewelry shop, (a creative way to destroy the security systems, but it had backfired immensely, as demon summoning usually did.)   The elderly owner, in gratitude, had offered him the pick of anything in his collection.

Vergil was going to pass on the offer, as there was only one piece he had worn, and it was long gone, but then his eye fell upon a delicate silver chain, with a pendant of sapphire and tiny diamonds.  You would certainly love it, he had decided, and so the grateful owner had placed it in a black velvet case and given it to him.  But as a gift, it was far too forward on its own...it was best given after he had confessed his feelings to you… and so it had laid, under his bed, waiting for him to work up the courage to do something.

He quickly got on his hands and knees, frantically searching for the box...but nothing…  Just a dust free spot outline where it had been.  Where did it go?  You didn’t have it, or you would have mentioned it.  It wasn’t in his room…  The only person who could have access to his room would be...Dante…

He grabbed Yamato, intending to wake up his no doubt still slumbering brother with an impalement.  It was so like his little brother, taking things that didn’t belong to him. And the implications troubled him.  Was DANTE trying to court you?  You and him had known each other far longer, but he’d never expected his idiot brother to try to undercut Vergil’s attempts for your affection…

Ah, but you never did anything in the first place to court them, he reminded himself, you were never even in the running…

Still, by the time he was done… There would be nothing left of Dante to court you-

He stopped in his tracks.  There, standing in the doorway, was an ethereal blue figure. His doppelganger, its face unreadable as it stared at him intensely.

“Out of way,” he ordered, but all he got was an amused huff.

Vergil was not amused and tried to barge past it, tried to summon it back to him, but he met both as if they were a solid brick wall.  This was odd, in battle his companion would always follow his directions,  why not now?  Whatever it had in mind, it wasn’t going to let him through.

“My brother has stolen things from me, don’t you understand why I am angry?”

He’d never seen his familiar  show any emotion, but now… he was certain it was laughing...

Laughing at him…

“What,” he said between gritted teeth, “do you think is so amusing?”  But all he got was the creature striding past him, and opensx the drawer of his nightstand, mimed taking something out, and then going to the wardrobe, and pretending to retrieve something from the top shelf.  And then, claws clicking the hardwood, it walked to the dresser, and plucked an invisible rose out of the glass, before turning back to him, a look of pride on its face.

And now the pieces were falling into place.

His Doppelganger had given you the chocolates

His Doppelganger, an extension of himself, had given you the planner

His Doppelganger, himself without his stony emotional wall, had given you the rose.

He stood there, unable to think.  Betrayed, by all things....himself.  And yet, he felt a wave of relief. As he watched you humming, and cleaning the glass to place the rose in, he saw the delight and happiness in your eyes.  And you seemed to already guess it was him that was giving you the gift.  Perhaps, his fear of ruining his friendship with you was unfounded.  But his reaction to the scene in the kitchen a mere few minutes ago threatened to ruin everything, and he had no idea of how to fix it.  Vergil was never fond of apologizing, nor very good at it.

And then, with a flourish, his doppelganger’s tail flicked around, and the tip hovered before him, wrapped around a familiar narrow black velvet box.  It seemed his companion hadn’t given away everything just yet.

Sighing in defeat, he took the box, and only then, did the ghostly apparition allow him passage, and followed him down the hall, until, after a moment’s hesitation he paused by your door.  It had been open when he had first come down the stairs, but now it was closed, indicating you had holed yourself in there after his confrontation with you.  Looking down at the box in his hands, he realized he had one chance to make things right.  He took one last glance at the doppelganger, who merely stood a distance away (blocking the stairway, he noticed)

💕💕💕💕💕💕

You sat on your bed, unable to take your eyes off the rose on your dresser, looking a bit less vibrant than before.  Where had you gone so wrong?  You had let your feelings colour your assumptions, let your blossoming affection for the man made you think that he must obviously felt the same for you.  But obviously you had misjudged, and now the carefully laid relationship was on the verge of crumbling, never to be rebuilt again.  Hopefully you two could still work together.

A soft knock came from your door, and hesitantly, you approached, knowing exactly who would be on the other side, but unable to figure out what to say.  Apologise?  Act like nothing happened? Pretend it was all a joke?You took a deep breath, and hoping for the best, but preparing for the worst, you opened the door.

There stood Vergil, stiffly, with his hands behind his back, looking like a boy forced by his mother to apologise for egging his neighbor's house.  For an awkward few moments, both of you first stared at each other, then looked at the floor, as if suddenly interested in the pattern of the hardwood.  Finally, when you could take it no more, you spoke first.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed that you had gotten me those things...I guess I had just,” you paused, desperate to not cross this rubicon, but seeing little other choice, “I guess I had just hoped that they were coming from you.  That they meant something I had hoped was true…”

Vergil pursed his lips, opened his mouth to say something, closed it again, and looked like he was about to turn away, before a  threatening rumbling grumble down the hallway, just out of sight, rooted him to the spot.  You saw his adam’s apple bob up and down as he attempted to form his words.

“No…” he began hesitantly, “I did not give you those gifts, although I wish I had.” You blinked at that last part, about to ask him exactly what he meant before deciding not to interrupt him, as it seemed he was working so hard to muster up what he wished to say.

“The chocolates, the planners and...the rose, were given to you, not by me, but by it…” he motioned to the side, and you peeked out your door to see Vergil’s doppelganger, tail practically wagging, waving to you like an eager schoolchild.  You barely caught in the corner of your eye, Vergil sighing in embarrassment.

“But wait,” you were connecting things together, “isn’t...your doppelganger basically...you?” Vergil bit his lip, then nodded.

“Yes, it’s an extension of me, but a version unshackled by doubts and fears…” he admitted, looking more and more uncomfortable by the minute.  

“So...you and it have the same feelings, same thoughts...just that it is able to act on them...which means…” The sudden realization made your mouth very dry.

“That I had...every… intention to give you those things, but my own weakness, my own fears of how you would react prevented me from following through with my plan.  Apparently,” he nodded back, almost in a gesture of thanks towards the ethereal creature, “Even I was getting sick of my own procrastination, and so...IT took matters into its own hands...or claws, as that is a more apt description.”

You did your best to suppress your giggles as the doppelganger smugly stuck out its chest, no doubt being quite pleased at itself.

“But…” Vergil’s voice yanked you back, “It also gave me one final chance to make things right, to take that step I have long feared to tread.”  From behind his back, he pulled out a long black velvet case, and gently, under your widening eyes, undid the clasp of the box, revealing a beautiful, delicate silver necklace, with an amulet that was a deep blue, and glittered like the entire Milky Way had been shoved inside of it.

“Will you forgive this hapless fool?” he asked as he offered it to you.  “I may not be as skilled with my emotions as I am with the blade, nor do I truly understand this whole ‘courting’ business but-”

He never finished, because you grabbed his arm, and pulled him in for a deep long kiss.  The necklace was beautiful, there was no denying that, but it wasn’t the gifts, nor even the way they had been ‘given’ to you that had attracted you.  It was the man, the frustratingly complex handsome, adorably awkward Vergil, that you had fallen in love with.   And silently, you pulled him inside your room, and silently shut the door, giving you both the privacy you both deserved.  No doubt it wouldn’t take Dante long to figure out what was going on, but that was a problem for the future you.  The future BOTH of you…

But as the door shut, you swore that down the hallway, you heard a very pleased, very demonic, rumble of a chuckle…..

[remmysbounty]

reunited//din djarin x f!reader

first off, thank you to my Siri ( @booksmusicteaandanimals​ ) for giving me this fic idea earlier today, especially bc after she gave me this idea i ended up getting two other ideas bc of it. 

I hope you all enjoy it :) 

I’m gonna tag some of you that I think will be interested, if you don’t want to be tagged in the future that’s totally fine, just let me know. 

please comment and/or reblog what you think, feedback is very much appreciated

You’d felt him before you saw him. It had been years since you’d felt another Force user in your presence, and even though he was clearly bothered by something, the waves of despair that you felt did not surprise you in any way. Feeling him as you walked down the path, you found yourself standing in front of a creature you had only heard about in legends and bedtime stories.

“Hello little one,” you brought your hand out to touch his three fingers, allowing him to infiltrate your mind, talk to you, “Would you like for me to help you find this man, the Mandalorian?”

You felt a resounding yes come through the force and after securing the little one in your arms, you continued down the path you were on. Clearly whoever you were looking for was someone who would stand out, whether intentional or not, and you had heard rumors about a bounty hunter being in the area that morning, so you figured the best place to head towards would be the cantina. As you walked you got to know more about the child in your arms and he shared with you memories of his journey with this Mandalorian. A Mandalorian who reminded you very much of one that you’d met when you were just on the cusp of adulthood. 

You waved at the little Mandalorians who ran through the marketplace, still having the freedom to do so before the Empire had forced them into hiding, and continued down to your stall, hoping that today would be a good day. The different teas that you’d prepared the night before rested in their containers, waiting for hungry eyes and watering mouths to request them and you sat there, eager to speak with anyone that viewed your stall as appealing, especially a certain Mandalorian who made his appearance every sun-down. 

He had his own blend, one that you’d created by accident, but that he’d enjoyed so much, you couldn’t help but make sure you always had some on hand. The sun had already started to set, the pink and orange hues covering everything around you, as you started to pack your stall- it had been another slow day.

“I hope I’m not too late,” your Mandalorian’s sudden appearance had caught you by surprise, something that happened often.

You smiled softly at the beskar covered man in front of you, “No, you are right on time actually.”

After giving him his tea bag, you finished packing up everything you’d need and started your trek home, accompanied by Mando, “Was your day good?”

A slight tilt of his head and a deep sigh escaping his lips told you that it was anything but, and you couldn’t help but agree, “Me too.”

As the two of you arrived at your door, you watched to see if Mando would follow you inside. Recently, you had gotten the feeling that things were changing between the two of you, and you wanted to tell him how you felt but there was another thing on your mind that you knew needed to be said first.

“Mando,” you whispered, waiting for the iconic tilt that told you he was listening, “I’m leaving Navarro.”

The second those three words left your lips, Din’s hold on the box in his hands released and he almost dropped it before catching it- and himself, “What?”

One word. That was all you got out of him, but what else could you expect.

You looked down at your twitching hands, wondering how you could explain everything to him. How much you loved him, cared for him, and also put him in danger. You knew he had a dangerous profession, but one thing was being a bounty hunter, and another thing was being on the run from the Empire.

“Something’s come up,” those three words told him everything he needed to know. You were hiding something from him and he didn’t like it, but watching your trembling figure next to him, made him wonder why you were lying. You’d always been so talkative, so open, so kind, so- he’d even considered giving you his name tonight, but now he wasn’t so sure.

Your eyes looked at everything but him, “I have to leave. I was won-” you looked down at your feet and took a deep breath in, “Can you stay here tonight, please?”

A deep sigh came from his helmet, “No, I’m sorry.”

You shook your head as a watery chuckle escaped your lips, “It’s okay, don’t apologize Mando-” “Din. Call me Din, please.”

“It’s okay… Din.”

 You hadn’t realized that you were projecting this last memory of your Mandalorian until you felt the child shift in your hands. Looking down you realized he wanted to share something with you. Suddenly, you were bombarded with different images of his Mandalorian as if he were trying to send you a message, “Do you think he’s my Mandalorian?”

As you asked that very question out loud, Din had caught sight of you and the child in your arms. He almost hadn’t recognized you, and if it weren’t for the fact that you held his son in your arms he would have easily skipped over you in his search for Grogu. What a coincidence that the one time he loses Grogu during a fight with some other bounty hunters, it is in the very town you are in.

Din had been so consumed by your appearance, he hadn’t realized the way Grogu had pointed you towards him until you were standing there as clear as day.

“Y/N?” He hadn’t realized he had even whispered your name, still in awe of seeing you after years of separation. It was sweet on his lips, like honey, and he wanted nothing more to drop on his knees and bask in your presence. 

Of course, you hadn’t been sure that the child in your arms was correct until you heard your name escape the helmet in front of you. Your eyes watered as you finally accepted that the child was very much right, “Din?”

Tears ran down your cheeks as you took Din in, “It really is you.”

You felt the child move around in your arms and you suddenly remembered what it is that led you to him, “I take it he is yours.”

Din nodded his head quickly in agreement as he grabbed Grogu from your arms, “Could-” there was a pause, “Would you like to come with me to my ship? We can talk more there.”

You gleefully nodded, even though the tears continued to fall, as you motioned for Din to lead the way.

Soon you found yourself in the comfort of the Razor Crest, and even though you had only been on it once before, it felt more like home then the planet you were currently residing in.

After settling down in the cockpit you found yourself telling Din everything, not only why you left but how you ended up in Navarro in the first place to how you ended up standing before him with Grogu in your arms. While he has hurt that you had never told him any of this before, he understood, in a way you’d wanted to make sure he’d stay safe and that could only be for certain if he didn’t know.

“Oh, cyar’ika,” Din’s hand hovered over your cheek waiting for you to give him permission to touch you in a way he had never done before, “I missed you.”

The tears returned as did the memories of your time right after leaving him, “I missed you too, Din.”

Somehow Din allowed you to come closer and you soon curled up into his chest, your head finding comfort in the sliver of skin open to the air around you, “I don’t want to leave you Din, ever again.”

Din seemed to grunt something at your words and whispered, “Then don’t.”

You brought yourself even closer to Din, which you didn’t believe was quite possible, and whispered a simple ok as you finally let your mind come to terms with the fact that you had been reunited with your Mandalorian, your Din.

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tags: @booksmusicteaandanimals​ @lathyrusodorxtus​ @thewayofthemandalorian​ @maybege​ @pikemoreno​ @dindjarindiaries​ @dindjarinscape​ @littlemisspascal​ @bitchin-beskar​ @captn-andor