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yourdeepestfathoms · 4 years ago

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Shelter

[UK Tour]

just some care taking and fluff from the best mother hen duo~

TW: Vomit

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“When was the last time you slept, young lady?”

The young music director hunched over the table, turned her head slowly and blinked blearily up at the two queens standing in her dressing room. Her face was ghostly pale, more so than usual, making the black bags under her eyes more prominent, like onyxes buried in snow. Someone passing by might have even thought she had twin black eyes. Her hair was a complete mess, knotted and tangled, despite her having brushed it for the show that day, and hanging in thick, greasy locks at the sides of her head.

She looked utterly exhausted and unwell.

“I dunno,” Joan mumbled, shrugging her shoulders sluggishly. Her eyelids kept drooping over her dull grey eyes; her entire body kept begging her for sleep, but she refused.

“How many of these have you had?” Aragon asked, peering into the trashcan full of empty Rockstar cans.

“Umm,” Joan counted on her fingers. “I don’t know. Seven?”

Howard’s eyes widened. “Seven?” She repeated shrilly, making Joan flinch back. “It’s only just turning one! You’ve had seven already?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Joan said, not making eye contact. “Not that big a deal… Just energy drinks… I need energy.”

“It is a big deal, Joan.” Howard said firmly. “So much of this stuff can kill you. ”

“300mg of caffeine,” Aragon read from one of the cans, whistling. “Kid, you gotta cut down on this stuff. Your little body won’t be able to handle it.”

“I’m not little.” Joan growled, gathering herself up to her full size of a menacing 5’2. Then, she faltered, winced, and pressed a hand to her temple. Howard gently touched her back.

“Sweetheart?” Howard knelt down beside her chair. “Are you alright?”

“My head just hurts,” Joan whispered, her voice quivering. “Th-that’s all.”

“It’s all that caffeine,” Aragon shook her head. “Let’s go back to the hotel, hm? We can take care of you.”

Howard nodded. “Yes, that’s a good idea, Catalina. Come on, Joan. Can you stand?”

“But...my work…” Joan cast a dismayed look at her table as Aragon hoisted her to her feet. “I have to…”

“Shh, it’s alright,” Howard calmed her. “It’ll all still be here when you feel better. Now, come on.”

Joan staggered along with Howard and Aragon, lagging behind because of her exhaustion and obvious discomfort. Howard had to slow down at one point and steady the poor, clumsy little thing when she stumbled.

Getting to the hotel room Howard and Aragon shared for that trip was a blessing.

“Oh, honey,” Howard murmured when Joan collapsed against one of the beds. She didn’t even climb onto it entirely, just crumpled. Howard sat down next to the girl and rubbed firm circles against her back. “You’re tired, aren’t you?”

Joan, despite her condition, shook her head.

Aragon chuckled. “Someone is stubborn,” She mused while gliding to the bathroom. Howard heard her turn on the bath faucet, which made Joan’s head pop up.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Joan asked. “What’s--”

“Shh,” Howard stroked her cheeks with her thumbs. “Catalina is running you a nice, hot bath so you can clean up and relax. Then you can snuggle up with us and get some rest. How does that sound?”

Joan shook her head. “N-no. I can’t.” She tried to stand up, but whimpered sharply and nearly collapsed again. Howard eased her back down.

“What hurts?” Howard asked.

“M-my head,” Joan whispered. “And my back…”

“Your posture probably isn’t the best, huh?” Howard said. “That stool you have to sit in for the show must really mess you up?”

Joan nodded with a tiny whine. She leaned her head against Howard’s shoulder, her entire body shuddering with exhaustion.

“The bath is ready,” Aragon said, walking out a few minutes later. She smiled at Joan. “Come on, precious.”

Joan hobbled to the bathroom, which Howard joined her in, seeing as she was way too sleepy to bathe herself, and the last thing they wanted was for their music director to accidentally drown herself.

“That is SO RUDE!” Aragon bellowed when she was banished from the bathroom with them. “Why can’t I be in there, too?”

“Because Joan is already going to be awkward enough,” Howard said calmly. “Plus, she’s already seen me naked before from when she worked for me. It’s kind of a mutual thing. It’ll make it less weird.”

“But I wanna help!” Aragon protested, almost whining like a child, which made Howard chuckle.

“You can get some painkillers. Maybe even some lunch?” Howard suggested.

Aragon thought over it, then gave in. “Fine! But I won’t be happy about it. And I get to help next time!”

Howard laughed. “Alright, alright. Now, shoo.”

After Aragon left, Howard turned to her patient hunched on the toilet, barely awake. Howard had to help her undress and then step into the warm bathwater, which seemed to rouse her slightly.

“The director is gonna be so mad at me,” Joan groaned.

“And why is that?” Howard asked as she used a plastic cup to pour water over Joan’s head.

“Falling behind on work,” Joan answered, fumbling with her words slightly. “‘E’s not gonna take me seriously, Kat…”

“He’ll understand that you needed to take a small break to take care of yourself,” Howard said. “And, besides, won’t you be able to do more work with rest? You’ll be even more efficient than you are now!”

Joan shrugged. “Maybe…” She let out an adorable yawn.

Howard chuckled. She began scrubbing vanilla-scented shampoo into Joan’s hair, washing out all the grease and oil that had coated the white-blonde locks. Joan began to coo as she massaged her scalp.

“Relaxing, isn’t it?” Howard said, keeping her voice soft.

“Mhm…” Joan agreed sleepily. “Really nice…”

“You are so cute.” Howard said, and Joan appeared to be too tired to be flustered over the comment.

Silence fell over the bathroom as Howard washed the young music director. She took note of how skinny Joan still was, though she supposed what it was like having a high metabolism. Joan had stated several times that she always stayed thin no matter how much she ate, which she didn’t particularly like because she wanted to gain more muscle and body fat, since she didn’t exactly have much of either. To Howard and Aragon, her body type was worrying. She looked like she would snap in half like a twig if she so much as got pat on the back a little too hard.

“Kat…?” Joan’s voice came, so soft and wry.

“Yes, sweetie?” Howard replied.

“Is--is there any water?” Joan swallowed thickly. “I feel kinda funny…”

Howard made a sympathetic noise. All that caffeine must be kicking poor Joan’s ass.

“Yeah, lemme go get some. I’ll be right back.”

Howard was only gone for a minute or so, but that was enough time for Joan to leap out of the bathtub and crash onto the floor. Howard heard her thump against the ground as she grabbed a water bottle and quickly rushed back into the bathroom to find Joan hunched over the toilet, dripping wet, shaking uncontrollably, and throwing up.

“Oh, sweetheart…”

Howard went to Joan’s side instantly, wrapping a towel around her naked, shivering body. She gathered Joan’s freshly-cleaned hair out of the way and tied it back with a ponytail sitting on the sink counter.

“Just let it up,” Howard said gently, rubbing circles against Joan’s upper back.

“I’m t--” Joan was cut off by a hiccup that brought up a torrent of sick, and she could barely catch her breath before she threw up again.

“There you go,” Howard soothed. “Good girl. Remember to breathe, honey.”

“There’s nothing left,” Joan panted after a few moments of heaving. She collapsed back into Howard’s arms.

“I know,” Howard said, running her fingers through Joan’s soaked hair. “Your poor tummy. Are you feeling any better after getting all that out?”

Joan shrugged weakly. “K-kinda? I’m still really tired and my head hurts…”

“Catalina will be back soon with medicine,” Howard said.

And, speak of the devil, Aragon came in a few moments later, loaded with plastic bags on her wrists.

“I’m back!” The gold queen called in a sing-song, Welsh-tinged voice. She peered through the door Howard had left half open. “Woah. What did I miss? Is everything okay?” She gave Joan a worried look.

“Our Joey may be just a little caffeine overdosed,” Howard said.

“Oh, poor thing,” Aragon bustled inside the bathroom with the bags and knelt besides the pair. She gently caressed one of Joan’s cheeks. “Hey, baby girl. Not feeling too great, huh?”

Joan shook her head with a whimper.

“I’m going to go get the bed ready for her,” Howard said. “Can you take her? And give her some painkillers.”

Aragon nodded and wrapped Joan’s quaking, towel-swathed body into her arms. Joan instantly curled into her warmth and Aragon smiled.

“You heard the boss,” Aragon said jokingly. “Let’s get some medicine in you.”

Joan obliged and took a few tablets of Ibuprofen, then promptly curled back up in Aragon’s arms, which she remained in until Howard came back in saying the bed was ready. Aragon carried her to the bed after helping her get dressed.

“Sorry for being so much trouble…” Joan said guiltily.

“Nonsense.” Aragon said. “No trouble at all.”

“We want to help you feel better, sweetie.” Howard added.

Joan didn’t look completely convinced, but nodded anyway. She yawned adorably.

“Get some sleep, sweet girl.” Aragon said.

Joan listened, and fell asleep within a few minutes, curled between Howard and Aragon.

“I always wanted a daughter.”

Aragon looked up at Howard curiously. “Really?”

“Mhm,” Howard nodded, smiling. She stroked Joan’s hair with a loving look in her eyes. “I wanted to have a daughter so I could give her a better life than I had. I was going to spoil her so much. She would be my little princess. Hopefully a Mini Me. I thought that would have been cute.” She chuckled. “I was thinking of the name Patricia.”

Aragon burst into laughter so loud that Joan stirred and whined softly in her sleep. Howard gave her a scolding look.

“Sorry, sorry,” Aragon said through giggles. “It’s just-- Patricia? Really?”

Howard lifted her nose haughtily. “Yes! I thought it was a very unique name for that time! You don’t run into very many Patricia’s!”

Aragon laughed again.

“Do not laugh at me!” Howard barked. “I bet you’re just jealous that you didn’t come up with such a creative name. You went with Mary. Yuck! So boring! So bland! Where’s the originality?”

Aragon continued to laugh, so much so that she actually started to snort, which then made Howard laugh. Between them, Joan whined, then raised a sluggish hand to swat at them.

“Be quiet,” The music director whined. “I’m try’na sleep!”

“Sorry, baby,” Howard softened her voice. She smoothed back Joan’s hair. “Go back to sleep. We’ll be quiet.”

Joan mumbled something else, then promptly conked out again. Aragon laughed softly.

“So grumpy!” Aragon said. “But back to you wanting a daughter!”

Howard nodded. “It never happened, clearly. But I still sometimes wish. Maybe it’s because I’m in an adult body now. I have a chance at motherhood.” She smiled lovingly down at Joan. “I guess my prayers were answered.”

“She’s no Patricia,” Aragon said, and Howard whacked her arm.

“She’s better than any Patricia,” Howard said. “She’s so precious. I’m lucky to have her.”

Aragon smiled. “We both are. I’m glad I get another chance to be a proper mother.”

“Even though you’re kind of a brat at times.”

“Oi! Rude!”

Howard laughed. “Sorry, sorry! But I’m happy for you, Catalina. Really.”

The two of them sat in silence for a moment, either gazing down at Joan’s peaceful form or watching the TV.

“I can’t believe you wanted to have a Princess Patricia.”

“Oh-- Shut up!”

#six the musical #six the musical fanfic #six the musical fanfiction #tour katherine howard #tour catherine of aragon #katherine howard #catherine of aragon #tour joan on the keys #uk tour six #shelter #tw: emetophobia #tw: vomit

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sunflower-swan · 4 years ago

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Wolfstar Chapter 7

A/N: Here’s what you need to know: I created this story for Writer’s Month 2020. Every day is a new prompt, and therefore a new chapter. This is an AU Wolfstar where Remus is a tattoo artist next door to Sirius who manages a flower shop. James and Lily are alive in this universe and own a coffee shop across the street. And to make parts of the story work with the prompts, Remus is about 10 years older than Sirius. It also takes place more or less in present time, minus Covid-19.

This is chapter 7 of a multi-chapter work. If you’d like to start from the beginning, here is chapter 1.

Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters. I just like to play with them.

Day 7 Prompt: Hurt/Comfort

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 2094

Tags: original character death, angst, pining, hurt/comfort, language

Chapter 7

Sirius

Johnny Cash, “Hurt”

I wear this crown of thorns

Upon my liar's chair

Full of broken thoughts

I cannot repair

Sirius apparated to the secluded alley behind the shops, and strolled toward the tattoo parlor. As he walked he pondered what the next six months without Silas was going to be like. He would likely be spending more time with Remus. Other than James and Lily, who else did he have? Coffee at Potter’s Wheel might turn into the highlight of his day. It would at least guarantee he wasn’t alone in his misery.

What about that Logan guy? He was rather good looking, in a rough sort of way. If one was into that sort of thing. Had Remus called him yet? Maybe he could live vicariously through Remus in a relationship. That’s assuming Remus could let go of his crazy ‘romantic quarantine’ theory. Although, that might make him miss Silas more. At the very least, Sirius would hold tight to the memory of his last day with Silas.

After their shared morning shower, Sirius helped Silas get everything packed that he would need for the next six months. They worked together to prepare an early dinner and ate it in the garden. Then they sat outside until long after the sun had gone down just being together, and talking about nothing and everything.

He was so caught up in his thoughts he walked right past the tattoo parlor and the flower shop. It wasn’t until he was nearly a block away that he realized what he had done, and turned around to retrace his steps. Remus stepped out the front door as he drew level with the shop.

“Hey, Sirius.”

“Morning, Remus.”

“Get a portkey sorted?”

“Yep.” He pulled a fob watch from out of his pocket and held it up for Remus to see. “We’ve got about 10 minutes before it activates, so we had better hurry and get out of Muggle view.”

Remus nodded and set off down the sidewalk toward the apparating alley. Sirius fell in step beside him.

“So...did you call Logan?”

Remus scoffed and rolled his eyes. “No.”

“What?!” Sirius couldn’t believe he was being so obtuse. “Why not? He was clearly into you…”

Remus sighed.

“...and he was gorgeous.”

They reached the entrance to the alley and Remus stopped. “Sirius.” He massaged between his eyebrows.

“Remus.” He said in a friendly mocking tone.

Sirius pulled the fob watch out of his pocket and held it out so Remus could place a finger on it. A few seconds later, he felt a tug behind his navel, and they were whooshed off to Sennan, Penzance. The outskirts at least. They landed about a mile south of the official View Point.

Portkey was not Sirius’ favorite way to travel. He much preferred apparating. At least with apparition, he could stay on his feet. As he could have predicted, upon landing, he found himself on the ground in a tangle with Remus.

“Shit! You ok?” He asked as he helped Remus to his feet.

Both men dusted themselves off and looked around. They appeared to have landed on a somewhat rocky outcrop. Luckily, they also landed on the grassiest bit of the outcrop, which made for at least a semi-soft landing. Salty ocean air invaded their nostrils, and the sound of ocean waves could be heard. Sirius bent over and picked the fob watch from off the ground.

“This is also our ticket home. But it doesn’t activate until 4 o’clock. I figured we could also grab a bite and check out the area.” He gave Remus a hardy pat on the shoulder and pocketed the watch. “What do you think?”

“Whoa!” Remus cried, balancing on one leg. He seemed to still be unsteady on his legs from the portkey, and the shoulder pat almost knocked him over again.

Sirius grabbed Remus' arm to prevent him from toppling over. “Sorry!” he apologized. “Let’s get going before I really hurt you,” he added with a laugh.

Remus raised his eyebrows in agreement and the pair set off towards the path which they had landed near.

After a few minutes of walking in comfortable silence, Sirius decided to ask the question that had been nagging at him all morning. “Why are you not going to call Logan?”

Remus shot him a sidelong glance.

“Come on! You can tell me. I want to know why my best friend is determined to be miserable and alone.”

“I’m not miserable!”

“Tell that to your face.”

“Wait...I’m your best friend?” Remus neck flushed.

“Well yeah, dummy. One of them at least. Other than you, James, Lily, and Silas...who else do I hang out with?” Wow...that’s kinda sad, if you think about it. Sirius decided not to think about it. It was what it was.

Remus smiled and threw his arm around Sirius' shoulder. “Is it possible to have more than one best friend though? Doesn’t the term ‘best’ imply there can only be one?”

“Well, you see, James is my oldest best friend. And by extension, as his wife, Lily is also my best friend. You are my newest best friend.” Sirius glanced at Remus to see if he wanted to interject. When he did not, he continued. “We have coffee together everyday. You were the first person to whom I showed the letter from Silas, and you were the first person I asked to come with me today. Who’s your best friend then? Who is this person you’ve never mentioned as long as I’ve known you?”

They walked a few steps in contemplative silence; the wind whistling through their hair.

Then Remus chuckled. “Point taken,” he said. “Thanks for being my best friend.” His eyes and smile lit up.

Sirius’ breath caught as he observed the light in Remus’ face. Just as quickly as that sensation surfaced, so did another...shame. He felt his scalp prickle, and he winced on the inside. Fresh on the heels of a ‘best friend’ speech, while at an outing specifically for your serious boyfriend, is not an ideal time to get a swhooshing feeling in your stomach when your best friend smiles at you. Sirius reprimanded himself, and decided to bury those feelings until a later time. He also pulled away from Remus' arm around his shoulder.

The path was beginning to become more crowded with people as they neared the View Point. They could see a cluster of buildings ahead, presumably comprising the Visitor’s Center.

“You still didn’t answer my question.” Sirius pressed.

“What question was that?”

Feigning ignorance, I see. “Why are you not going to call Logan, and why are you determined to remain alone and miserable?”

“Oh, yeah…” was all Remus said.

Fine. Sirius thought, and decided to drop it. I’ll figure you out one day.

They continued the walk along the path until they came to the Signpost. It read:

‘New York 3147’

“Three thousand, one hundred, forty-seven miles away…” Sirius said. He took a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh. “Six...bloody...months.”

“It will be alright.”

“How do you know?”

Remus placed a hand on Sirius’ shoulder. “Because you’re my best friend, and I’ll be here for you.”

~~~~~

Three months passed without much incident. Life for Sirius continued much the same as it always had. Morning coffee had turned into the highlight of his day, as predicted. On his days off he would hang out with either James and Lily, or Remus.

Spending time with James and Lily usually centered around something to keep Harry entertained. Sirius didn’t mind because he loved spending time with his godson. Their outings often included something that involved animals. The kid had a natural inclination toward snakes that was a little strange.

Time spent with Remus was a nice break from toddler amusing activities. The first time Sirius suggested they go see an Indie film playing at the theatre around the corner, he had to practically drag Remus there. At the end of the movie, Remus conceded it wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be, but he still preferred a quiet art museum.

He would write to Silas every two or three days to let him know what was going on. Silas would write back when he was able. He moved around a lot and was able to get out a letter about once a week.

Silas’ letters were always full of discovery and adventure. His team started out in Maine and were working their way through the forested region down the East Coast. Their main objective was to document observations of native American magical animals in their natural habitat.

Then Sirius didn’t hear anything back for a couple weeks. He was sitting with Remus at the Potter’s Wheel for an after work coffee.

“I’m sure everything is fine.” Remus had been attempting to reassure him for the past ten minutes.

Both men looked up at the peck peck peck at the window next to them. A tawny owl was flapping there with a letter attached to it’s leg. Sirius jumped up and ran out the door. His heart thudded in his chest. Finally! He took the scroll from the owl and it flew away. The untidy scrawl across the top was not Silas’ handwriting. Hair on the back of Sirius’ neck stood on end. It was addressed to him though. Unable to wait, he ripped open the letter, and read:

Dear Mr. Black,

We regret to inform you of a terrible accident involving Mr. Oleander. While on a field mission in central Maryland, his team was the victim of a Snallygaster attack. Mr. Oleander’s body was not found at the scene, and is presumed deceased.

Greatest sympathies,

Magizoologist Office, UK

Sirius read through the short note again, and again, and again. His brain was unable to process or believe what he was reading. He slid down the window until he was sitting on the ground, and his tears fell upon the parchment. They fell upon the words that brought his entire world crashing down around him.

He was vaguely aware of handing the letter to Remus. A person on either side of him grasped him under the arms and pulled him to a standing position. He supposed he walked somewhere, because when he woke up, he was on a couch he did not recognize.

Maybe it was a nightmare. But whose couch is this? He felt the soft suede under his fingers and looked around. “Hello?” His voice was hoarse. He felt a wave of nausea as he moved to a sitting position.

Remus came into view, holding two teacups. “Hello.” He sat one on the coffee table, and kept the other for himself. “How are you feeling?” he asked, taking a seat in an eclectic mid-century modern chair across from the couch and crossing his legs.

“Like I’m going to be sick.” Sirius looked around for a wastebasket, or the bathroom. Anything so as to not vomit all over Remus or his furniture.

“Bathroom’s through there if you need it.” Remus pointed toward a door leading off from the room. “Try the tea though. It’s Peppermint Ginger. Should help your stomach.”

Sirius reached for the tea and gave it a sip. Not bad. He didn’t want to talk, so he glanced around what he assumed was Remus’ flat above the Tattoo Lounge. One entire wall was a bookshelf filled with books, which he found unsurprising. The titles he could make out from the couch appeared to be a varied collection of artist biographies and histories, and Muggle fiction; J.R.R. Tolkien featured prominently.

On the walls hung artwork he recognized as Remus’ style, because he had one similar hanging in his flat that Remus had gifted him at Christmas last year. Floral arranging was an art in it’s own right, but the skill evident in these pieces was exquisite. Some were done in Muggle-style, while others in wizard-style. Even the Muggle-style pieces looked so real, like they could jump off the canvas and walk around in the room. His best friend was an enigma wrapped in a tough shell; a puzzle he hadn’t cracked yet.

“Want to talk about it?”

He squinted his eyes closed. Unbidden came an image of Silas on their last morning together. He shook his head, and the nausea reared its ugly head again. Clasping his hands in front of his mouth, he opened his eyes and looked at Remus.

“Ok,” Remus said softly. “How about a shower? Or a bath? I think I have some fizzy bath bombs.”

In spite of himself, Sirius let out a little chuckle. “Bath bomb. Definitely.”

A/N: If you’ve followed the story this far, then I’m going to warn you now so you can mentally and emotionally prepare yourself...Sirius is not going to handle this death well. The next few chapters are going to get pretty dark, but I PROMISE it will get happier. This has a Wolfstar endgame after all. ;)

Next Chapter: Chapter 8

#writersmonth2020 #wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black #remus x sirius #sirius x lupin #slow burn #alternate universe #harry potter #fanfiction #fanfic

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bluesfortheredj · 5 years ago

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The view from the balcony of your hotel room was stunning, it completely took your breath away as you stood there in utter awe at where you were. You’d never been to Cannes before, well, you’d never really been out of the UK before to be honest, and Richard was the one to fix this for you. Ever since his first role he’d promised to take you away with him somewhere, and between your relationships and his own relationships, it never seemed to have happened, but now you were both single this plan had finally come together and here you were looking out to one of the most beautiful sunsets you’d ever seen.

“How are you adjusting to actually taking a holiday then, huh?” Richard asks as he comes up behind you and places his hands on your shoulders.

“I feel like I’m dreaming,” you sigh.

“Now you know how I feel every time I land somewhere different,” he chuckles.

“Yeah, but this is in a good way, not a ‘where the fuck am I now?’ way,” you laugh.

“Ha! True.”

“I’m in such a good mood, I won’t even complain about the bed situation,” you say as he kisses your shoulder and moves to stand next to you.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” he grimaces, “not my fault they assumed we’re… You know… You were all over me down in the lobby,” he winks.

“Oh fuck off, Madden!” you howl as you bring your hand up to cover your mouth as you burst into a loud cackle.

“What?! I’m just saying,” he shrugs.

“You’re ridiculous sometimes. At least it’s nothing we haven’t done before. Sleeping together… Next to one another, I mean,” you say, blushing at your slip of the tongue.

“I was going to say… Think I would have remembered that if it had happened!”

People had often mistaken you for a couple but you were no more than friends, even if sometimes you did sort of fall into acting like you were together in that way. Neither of you could help it, you were both tactile people, so holding hands or kisses to the cheek were not uncommon between the two of you, and past partners had definitely not been comfortable with it.

“Anyway, I need a shower,” you announce, changing the subject quickly, “mostly because those robes look so soft and fluffy.”

“Ohh, they are!” Richard grins, “the softest. May as well leave the shower running when you get out, I’ll pop in there when you’re done.”

“Will do,” you call back as you walk away, grabbing a robe before you enter the elegant bathroom.

This shower cubicle had to be the size of your bedroom at home, it was utterly ridiculous and completely unnecessary, and you laugh to yourself as you rinse your hair because you’re absolutely loving this experience. When you get out, you quickly wrap your hair up with a towel then don the robe and walk out to see Richard already down to his boxers as he waits for his turn. He shoots a wink at you as you pass one another, and you sit down on the bed with an exaggerated bounce while you watch him walk into the steam and shut the door behind him.

“Still not dressed?” he laughs when he emerges to find you sprawled out on the bed, still in the dressing gown.

“Why on earth would I change into anything that isn’t as comforting as this?” you smirk.

Richard hops on the bed next to you as you take the towel off of your head and throw it onto the chair next to your side, and he lays there staring at you as his loose robe falls open at his chest and thighs. He doesn’t make any attempt to close it, knowing that it was just about hiding what it needed to, and as you sit up against the headboard and clear your throat, he knows he’s got you feeling a little hot and bothered.

“So...” he trails off as his fingers walk their way up your bare leg, “what do you want to do this evening? I’ve got a couple of things in mind, but I wanted to see if there was anything in particular you wanted.”

His hand stops on your thigh where he traces small circles with his finger tips, and as you shift yourself your own gown falls open a little to reveal more of your thighs to him.

“Well,” you begin, taking a gulp before saying anything more, “depends if you’re hungry or not, really.”

He looks up at your face with a wickedly devilish smirk and you grin back at him as an unspoken understanding is reached. Your heart begins to race as you reach out to his face and cup his cheek gently, then he tilts his head to kiss your palm as his hand glides up your inner thigh. You tilt your head back against the headboard as you open up your legs for him, and he runs a finger along your slit slowly.

“(Y/N), look at me,” he whispers, and you slowly move your head back down, “there’s no going back after this. I want you, every part of you, to be mine.”

“No going back,” you nod.

Two fingers slide inside you as his thumb goes straight to massaging your sweet spot gently, and you can honestly say you’d never felt something as good as this; he was loving, slow, and it made you feel every single movement he made which made your head spin. Your hand drops from his face and lies limp on the bed as you slide yourself down the pillows, and Richard sits himself up to press his lips softly against yours. His tongue runs along your lips and you quickly open up to let him inside your mouth where he tangles together with yours.

You manage to move your hands to the belt on your gown and undo it to push away the material, then you fumble around for Richard’s and soon pull his open and push it off of his shoulders while your kiss begins to get heated. He pulls his fingers out of you slowly just as you felt your thighs beginning to shake with pleasure, and he drags them up your body, leaving a path of glistening fluid behind him, then when he gets to your neck he pulls his lips away and gently pushes his fingers inside your mouth instead.

“Good girl,” he smiles as you suck away every trace of yourself on him.

He shrugs off the robe and you take the opportunity to slip your arms out of yours as he reaches over for his bag and fumbles around until he finds a condom.

“Carry them just in case, huh?” you laugh as he rips the packet open.

“Only when I know I’m seeing you,” he winks, then rolls it down over his stiff length.

“Romantic!”

“I’ll show you more romance than you can handle,” he growls, positioning himself over your body, “right after this…”

He slowly pushes his tip inside you, then slides in until he’s disappeared completely, and you run your hands up his torso with a groan at the feel of him filling you. He’s slow, he positions himself higher up your body than he should so that he can brush against your sweet spot with each thrust, and he leans down intermittently to pepper kisses around your face and neck. Your hands move down and around to his backside, squeezing his cheeks roughly each time he pushes inside you, and he starts to moan with each breath he takes.

“Richard,” you pant.

His name leaving your lips in such a way as this was the stuff his dreams were made of, and now that it was a reality, he found it too much to handle and soon reaches his climax with a guttural moan of your name. He makes sure you reach your own orgasm, although it doesn’t take too long for you to follow after the sounds he’d been making, and you hold his head against your neck as you tremble around his length.

“That,” he exhales, “is the best thing that’s going to happen this weekend.”

“Ha! Really?!” you question, knowing the reason you were both there.

“You’re worth a million times more than some film,” he smiles as he moves to your side.

I would absolutely adore anything full of fluff with Richard, maybe something friends to lovers, with a lil smut & I saw your request are open, can you write something involving Richard in the bathrobe?

@springlady @nkalli @givemeanorigami @teaxcupxcake @pineapplebooboo @itisjustmethistime @parkerplexed @king4thesirens @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @aynsleywalker @koalajayisindabuilding @godohammers @ithoughtiwasflying @lovemelikeyou1997 @lv7867 @wolfgirlxslytherin @n3shama @crazy-souless-demon @davidbuddbg @solopadawan @r4mimal3k @theflyingdutchie @hexmadtar

#richard madden #richard madden imagine #richard madden smut #richard madden x reader

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vcomfort · 2 years ago

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We know a massage chair is no small investment, so we've created a quiz so you choose the most ideal massage chair for you.

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#full body massage chairs uk #full body massage chairs supplier #full body massage chair #body massage chairs uk #body massage chair #body massage chairs ukbody massage chair #massage chairs #massage #massage therapy

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homemassagesolutions · 4 years ago

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5 Must-know Benefits of Full Body Massage Chair UK

Most of the times, we barely give thought to how precious an Electric Massage Chairs UK can be within the living space. The reason for this could probably be that you prioritize engaging the service of a massage therapist over this tremendously practical device. But do you know that having a massage chair in your home spa provides you more advantages than what the therapist can do on a particular visit? Additionally, the installation of this chair can show to be cost-effective on the long run – though there is no denying the fact that these chairs can be rather expensive.

In case you are yet to be convinced about buying one of the best massage chairs available on the market , We believe reading about the advantages derivable from a Full Body Massage Chair UK should assist you take a decision towards stress-free life today.

Relaxation and loosening of sore muscles

The mission for survival frequently sees us go through diverse struggles predominantly at work. This sometimes results in our muscles getting fatigued or stiffened over time. Hence, it becomes necessary – if one is seeking to live healthy – to loosen sore muscles. Massage chairs integrated with shiatsu technique are very effectual in this regard.

Boosting blood circulation

There are definite features of the massage chair that help to progress the flow of blood through diverse parts of the human body.

Improving Immune system

Massage chairs can be of huge use when it comes to fighting sickness. This is down to the fact that massage therapy helps to increase the number of lymphocytes in the body.

Promotes and maintains good posture

Regular sessions in a massage chair will ensure that weight is well circulated to other muscles while pressure or else pain is unconfined from the neck, shoulder along with spine hence sustaining good posture.

Boosts the quality of breathing

As the muscles get tranquil during massage, the lungs get to increase thus the prospect of taking in more air. With this, deeper or diaphragmatic breathing becomes potential, and with this, the body is more at ease.

#Full Body Massage Chair UK #full body massage chair #Body Massage Chair #Massage Chair #Massage Chair UK

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mybodyliberation · 5 years ago

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AD | Gifted Lush Spa Review

Now guys, grab a cup of tea and a fuzzy blanket and settle in because I'm about to tell you a full tale!

You will remember a while ago when Lush very controversially decided to stop engaging in their social media platforms in the conventional way that a lot of brands do now. They wanted a clear transition from relying on social media to interact with their customers into something more personable. Though I understand why some customers thought this didn't make sense as so much is done digitally now, I love that they were seeking to strip things back to basics and not rely on way of promoting and interacting with customers.

A few weeks ago I had the opportunity to visit the Lush Spa, which is the only one of its kind up here in Scotland, and as well as look at the new products within the store itself, I was able to experience one of their multitude of spa treatments.

On asking for the recommendation because I simply couldn't pick from all of the interesting options, it was suggested I try "The Sound Bath", which is advertised as a treatment to retune the mind and body with ear candling and facial massage.

Now sometimes I love to be surprised and so I made sure I didn't look it up before then. I wanted to come in with no expectations or previous knowledge and just experience the process.

The second I stepped into the store I felt welcomed by not only the staff but all the aromas in the air. I mean come on we've all been in Lush and basically wanted to pick up a bath bomb and start chomping on it, but seriously with all the Christmas smells in the air I was seconds away from eating at least three Santa shaped items.

One of the most interesting products I spotted was their R&B hair moisturizer, a thick leave in designed specifically for curly and textured hair to restore the hairs natural state, especially with this change of weather which has mine drying out constantly. It's not many UK based cosmetics companies that would try and design products with textured hair in mind and so I was already intrigued.

I was soon greeted by the lovely Rachel who was going to be facilitating my treatment. She gave me such a warm welcome and took me straight downstairs to the spa space. Unfortunately as far as I know there is no accessibility for those who need access in order to get down into the spa, which I think is a shame, but I recognize comes from the kind of building the store is located in. Perhaps they can begin thinking about how to rectify this so that in the future all customers are able to access the spa.

The spa is purposefully set up like a little country kitchen. Think of recycled wood tables and chairs, mason jars full of products, treats and teas. Everything about the space feels deliberate and everything serves a purpose in creating an environment and space that feels almost as if you have escaped into a children's storybook.

On being taken down into the space Rachel encouraged me to take a seat while she hung up my coat and before we began going through the normal formalities of filling in forms but also she could further explain the treatment.

Now I don't know about ya'll but a facial I have had, but an ear candling? Excuse me, what? Yet I was feeling adventurous and ready to try it once Rachel explained that we would be using something that essentially looked like a thick straw, made out of materials like cotton that would be placed in my ear and set alight in order to encourage my ears natural vibrations which in turn is an opportunity to open up the ears.

She explained that alongside the treatment there would also be an entire soundscape, in which the treatment was choreographed to. Music for the Lush Spa treatments are created by the Fresh Hand Made Collective and ranges from instrumental, to sounds you would hear in the country side, to full coral singing.

It was going to be an activation of all of my senses, sight, sound, taste, touch and smell. Full sensory immersion in order to create a feeling of relaxation, perspective and openness to what my body might be telling me.

You see the treatments aren't just about making your body feel good, but are about encouraging you to check in on yourself and honour what your mind, body, soul and spirit are trying to address within you.

The last few weeks this has very much been my personal journey and so it feels like this treatment came at the exact right time because it was a whole 60 minutes of allowing that process to be facilitated in a way that wasn't necessarily a traditional option for me

Before the treatment started I was told I had a gift, and as I looked up, Rachel had a wooden box that had the most aromatic smells coming from it. When I got over my utter amazement, I opened up to find a bottle saying drink me, filled with cooling apple flavoured water and a small piece of chocolate saying eat me, made from raw cocoa and coconut. In that moment I felt my body being reminded of the sweetness of life and the gift that was this opportunity to align with myself.

After quickly nipping to the fully kitted out toilet and shower room, fawning over the products there for customers to try, I got ready to experience the treatment.

Rachel encouraged me strip down to whatever level of nakedness felt comfortable for me, and ya'll please I long ago stripped any reservations and as soon nude, under the fuzzy blanket, inhaling the feminine and masculine energy filled incense she had just released into the room and ringing the bell for her to come back in!

Before I got undressed Rachel did explain to me some of the tools she would be using during the process including two types of tuning forks which on massaging the particular area of my face or chest, she would then use the forks to vibrate against me in order for the frequencies to encourage natural alignment of my internal energies.

As soon as I heard the sound of birds and dripping water, and Rachel telling me to let my thoughts slip away, I instantly relaxed felt my body begin to drop some of the usual tensions I carry in my shoulders, hips and legs.

The smell of the oils Rachel was using floated me away and I honestly what felt like the best kind of space and time travel took me through the whole process from facial, to hot and cold stone massaging of the temples and jaws and ears, to the actual ear candling which was an interesting and unique experience for each ear.

There is so much about frequency and sound that is perfect for any of us, which is all of us, on a healing journey in life, and this treatment is such a wonderful opportunity to gift yourself a moment to see what the physical manifestation of this is. I have no doubt that each persons emotional state would be different, but I experienced true joy, knowing that in the past it probably would have been closer to sobs at the release of tension and the acknowledgement of what frequency my body was vibrating on, and knowing that both reactions are valid is a testament to the growth you can have in a 60 minute treatment.

It is not just a treatment but is an experience and I honestly feel this would be such a wonderful gift for anyone in your life that might be going through a super transitional period of time.

Now The Sound Bath retails at £80 but there are treatments for as low as £40 and some as high as £300, so depending on the treatment you are looking for and how small or big your budget is you have some options, but know its about investing an experience as well as a treatment.

If you are looking for a basic massage, I would suggest going to a more traditional spa, but Lush are offering an elevated experience that challenges your senses and the aspects of your body as well as your mind.

Honestly I can't wait to go back and I already know what I want for Christmas!

#review #reviews #lush #lush spa #treatments #healing

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nikkalia · 6 years ago

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Gotta Get It Right: Dinner and a Show

TITLE: Gotta Get It Right

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: 14

SUMMARY: Aleksa lived as an Inhuman at SHIELD's beckon call, but dreams of another life have her questioning everything she’d ever known. Just when she settled into a life of peace and quiet, she's called back to duty. Enter Loki.

PAIRING: Loki/OFC RATING: Mature NOTES/WARNINGS: Just language, mentions of PTSD and torture

Tumblr masterlist Also on Ao3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/15409323/chapters/43756231

Feedback is always appreciated (just being an attention whore screaming for comments/reblogs)

Tags: @christy-winchester @hovianwookie86-captainxev @wolfsmom1 @fadingcoast @mrshiddleston-uk @igotloki @fandom-and-feminism @mischievousbellerina @odinsonsobsessed

Loki pushed Aleksa’s chair in before seating himself. A servant appeared from the shadows, pouring mead into golden goblets.

“Thank you,” Aleksa said softly, bringing shocked looks from the servant and Loki. “What?” The servant struggled for an answer before looking to his master, who dismissed him with a wave after his own cup was filled. “Seriously? You don’t acknowledge the people that are working for you? I thought Asgard was sooooo much more enlightened than that. Do you even know their names?”

“Those that serve in this palace are to be neither seen nor heard. It is honor enough for them to be selected for a position on the staff and...”

“Bloody hell.” She stood and moved to the servant. “What’s your name?”

The wine steward was paralyzed in fear. His gaze shot to Loki and Aleksa stepped to block it. “I...uh...Beiner, madam.”

Aleksa turned to the maid standing next to him. “And yours?”

“I-Ingun, my lady.”

“Ingun. Beiner. Thank you both. Your work is appreciated,” she glared at Loki, “even if that appreciation is never expressed.” The servants shot each other looks of awe as Aleksa resumed her seat, muttering. “How in the hells do you expect to have the respect of your people if you can’t even acknowledge their existence? You’re no better than they are.”

Loki searched for the proper response. Odin all but forbade communication with the servants unless it was absolutely necessary, and even then he spoke with the same venom he afforded his adopted son. Loki never considered any other behavior towards the staff possible, much less appropriate.

“Perhaps it is a tradition that bears updating,” was all he could come up with.

Aleksa rolled her eyes and turned her focus to the plate before her. The platter was filled with several small slices of meats and cheeses, vegetables, and a chunk of bread. Other dishes on the tables held more of the same, accompanied by various fruits and loaves. The thought of devouring everything in front of her crossed her mind, followed by a wave of nausea that reminded her of her restricted abilities. Despite her hunger, she’d have to take it slowly or risk leaving a mess for Beiner and Ingun to clean up later.

Loki had already begun to eat, albeit cautiously. This early exchange of power, or so it seemed to him, appeared out of nowhere and he wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. Or of the woman sitting across from him. She seemed to be evaluating the food set before her. Was she considering the possibility of poison, or perhaps mind-altering drugs? He felt compelled to take his bites intentionally as if to convince her that the food was safe until her pace slowed to a stop.

“Is the meal not to your liking?”

“Hmm?”

“You’ve barely touched your plate. If the food is not satisfactory, I can...”

“It’s fine,” she snapped, dropping her fork onto the plate. She pinched the bridge of her nose before blowing out a sharp breath. “I...I’m sorry. There’s nothing wrong with the food.”

“The company, perhaps?”

Loki spoke so softly that Aleksa barely heard him. “I’ve had worse.” She leaned back, rubbing the skin beneath the bracelets. “I’m still...adjusting to these.”

“Perhaps, in time, the need for those will be eliminated.” He resumed his meal, aware of her gaze focused on him.

“What, exactly, do you plan to do with me?”

“Are we beginning our interview?” Loki paused to take a drink. “I’ve not yet established my terms.” Aleksa groaned in response. “Don’t worry. You may find that my terms are as much to your benefit as they are to mine.”

“And it’s always about your benefit, isn’t it?”

“It is good to be the king,” he grinned. “No question should be asked before the one prior is answered to the asker’s satisfaction.”

“Why do I get the feeling you’re never going to be satisfied with any of my answers.”

Loki chuckled. “Satisfaction is not in my nature, pet.”

“I won’t tell you again,” she growled, a hand moving toward the knife. “Don’t call me that.”

“No promises.” The glare he received was strangely arousing. “We will continue until all questions are answered or we’ve exhausted ourselves for the evening. Have you any ground rules for our discussion?”

“I would say no lying, but I don’t suppose I have any real way to tell if you’re trying to deceive me or not.”

“Allow me to offer a gesture of good faith, then.” Loki produced her dog tags and placed them on the table. "Oh," he added, tossing a trio of tiny vials in her direction, "these are also yours. Whyever would you consciously choose to carry Kree blood within you?"

She reached for the tags, sliding the chain around her neck before picking up a vial. Memories of their implantation tore through her consciousness, her own screams echoing in her ears. The burning sensations that consumed her body returned, accompanied by the smell of turmeric that somehow permeated the first terrigenesis cocoon. It lasted for months, leaving her a near zombie when she finally emerged. Everything hurt, even the energy she relied on. It was only the beginning of her torture.

Aleksa became aware of Loki’s gaze steady upon her, the concern it held living somewhere between compassion and fear. “I didn’t,” she whispered. “Where did you find them?”

“One was positioned near your heart. The other two on either side of your spine at the base of your skull. A kill switch for an errant pet, I presume.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” She slammed the knife blade into the table, millimeters from Loki’s hand. He only raised an eyebrow. “Use that word again and we’re done.”

His eyes moved slowly from the blade to her face, surprised by the calm he found there. “As you wish,” he whispered. “For now.” Aleksa returned to her seat. “Are we agreed?”

“Fine.” She nodded, mindlessly massaging her wrists. “You first, I assume.”

“Indeed.” Loki reached for his cup, drinking slowly as he considered his words. She began to absently pick at the plate in front of her, and something tore at his heart. “Actually, no. You posed a question that I failed to answer.” Aleksa looked up from her food. “What, exactly, do I plan to do with you?”

She watched him take another drink when he paused, waiting for her reaction. “Well?”

“I’ve not yet made a full decision.” She started to respond when he held up a hand. “What I have determined is that you will be brought out of the dungeons and given rooms here. You will begin training with our Seider masters to regain control over your abilities and learn their proper usage. I am considering allowing you to engage in other activities, but for now, this seems enough.”

Aleksa bit back the instinct to question further. He’d given more information than she expected but not everything she wanted, and she knew he was holding back. By the same token, she was desperate to keep him distracted as she worked to decipher the energies that kept her power in check.

“Are you satisfied with the answer?”

She met his gaze. Was there...hope in his eyes? “It’ll do.”

“Very well. Why were you sent to retrieve the Tesseract?”

“You don’t waste any time, do you?” She swallowed hard, garnering a glare from him. “I suppose ‘it’s classified’ would be enough of an answer?”

The glare darkened. “No.”

“Of course not.” The sigh that escaped her lips stopped Loki’s continued protest. “I had multiple sets of orders. Rescue the team and their research if possible. They were the priority.”

“We’ve already discussed this.” His tone matched his eyes. “And you’re not holding up your end of the bargain.”

“Then let me finish.” she snapped. “Get the team and their data were my orders from SHIELD. The order to get the cube came from someone else.”

“Not Fury? Curious. Who was it?” He leaned closer, growling. “Who?”

“Gideon Malick.”

Loki laughed. “Do you think me so stupid as to not know the players on that pathetic little planet? Malick is the Director of the World Security Council. He gives Fury...”

“Oh shut up!” she shouted, the force knocking over the goblets on the table. “You don’t know nearly as much as you think you do, your Highness. Malick comes from a long line of HYDRA worshippers. Last I heard, he was their undisputed leader. He’s playing both sides.”

“And so were you, it seems.”

“I know where my loyalties lie.” She sighed again, feeling the power in her body a bit closer to balance. “So does Nick.”

“And Malick?”

“He’s not interested in loyalty.” She toyed with the vial closest to her, speaking absently. “All he wants is power. The more, the better.”

“The Tesseract.” She nodded, trading the vial for a piece of fruit. Loki leaned back in his seat, arching his fingers in contemplation. It seemed that Midgard was going to continue to provide a bit of entertainment for some time. As was the woman across from him.

Aleksa chewed slowly, staring at the vials on the table, losing herself in memory.

“It’s not permanent, Colonel. Merely an insurance policy. You bring back the cube, I remove the vials. An easy mission for someone of your unique talents.”

“And if I fail?”

“You’ll go out in a blaze of glory, preferably on Asgard.” The sinister grin sickened her. “Or your heart will explode in your chest. Either way, you’ll be just another soldier lost to PTSD.”

“Not before I kill you.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Wha-” She blinked, finding Loki’s wide eyes fixed on her glowing hand. “Fuck,” she whispered, forcing the power to dissipate into the air. “Why do you do that?”

“I didn’t.”

“I meant screwing with my head. Why plant memories, trigger...this?”

“I had nothing to do with whatever you just experienced,” he pointed to her hand.

“Gods dammit Loki, what in the hells have you done to me?”

“Nothing.” Her chair went flying as she leapt up, leaning over the table. “While it is within my abilities to trigger flashes of individual experience, I do not possess the power to generate and implant full recollections. So this is decidedly not my doing.” He spoke softly, hoping to defuse her frustration. “My guess is that you are experiencing the restoration of your own memories as your mind continues to heal. Whether this comes from your exposure to the Tesseract or something else, I can’t say.”

“Now I know you’re lying.”

“I know what it is to have your thoughts bent and twisted to someone else’s will.” He took a deep breath, releasing it slowly to calm his own nerves, wondering if he’d overestimated his ability to control her. “I am capable of a great many things, but I would never inflict that experience on another creature.” Their eyes locked, giving him pause. “Ever.”

Her head dropped as he rose, lifting the chair back to its original position. Loki stood next to her, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest, scarcely able to hear her whispers about fear passing through her. He barely touched her back when she spoke.

“I’m fine.” Low, even, and a little forced.

“Now who’s lying?” She straightened herself, looking at him with a smirk, and a soft smile crossed his face. “Do you wish to continue, or would you like to end our interview for the evening?”

Aleksa’s mouth opened to reply but closed without a sound and a shake of her head. “Yeah, I don’t have the mental capacity necessary to keep up with you at the moment.”

“Then we will continue another time. One of the servants will see you to the guest chambers for the evening.” His speech was cut off by a loud growl originating in Aleksa’s stomach. “Along with something more to eat.”

Her face turned sheepish. “Thanks.”

“Rest well, little one. Your training will begin in the morning.”

She followed Ingun to the door, stopping just short of it to turn and face him. “I do have one question I’d like to have answered now.”

“Which is?”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were showing compassion towards a prisoner. Why?”

Loki approached slowly, sliding his hands behind his back. “Because you are my guest, not a prisoner. I much prefer to think of you as a potential ally. And,” he hesitated for a moment, noticing a few strands of silver mixed into her red hair, “I always take care of my allies.”

They stared at one another for a moment, each trying to read the other. Aleksa finally decided that she needed rest more than anything and nodded before returning to her path out of the library. Loki watched her exit his suite, a smile slowly crossing his face.

#loki #loki fanfic #avengers fanfic #agents of shield fanfic #loki laufeyson #loki friggason #gotta get it right #Loki/OFC

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ardentmuse · 6 years ago

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Hello! I was wondering if you could do #23 with Tequila please. I started reading your other fics and I fell in love with your style. Congratulations on more than 100 followers!

Hi lovely human! Thank you for the beautiful compliments *blushes* I love writing this stuff, so I am humbled that anyone wants to read it, let alone enjoys it.

23: “Want to come inside?”

Kingsman - Tequila x Reader

Attending Eggsy and Tilde’s wedding raised emotions in you that you hadn’t expected. Eggsy was a new friend and while you liked him and cared about him, you still weren’t invested enough in his happiness to be crying as intensely as you were right now. Wet drops rolled down your face as you watched the pretty blond beam as she made her way down the aisle, her chosen partner smiling just as boldly several paces away.

This was real love you were seeing, true happiness despite tough times. It was something you wanted desperately for yourself, something you wanted with the man standing beside you. But that was just a dream. And maybe that was why watching this ceremony hurt you so much.

As Tilde took her place beside her soon-to-be husband, you sat. Almost absent-mindedly, your hand found its way into Tequila’s, forcing him to draw his attention to you. He squeezed your hand tighter when he saw your tears before leaning over to ask, “You doing okay there, sugar?”

“I’m fine,” you said under your breath before pulling your hand away from his. You dabbed at your eyes to make the pull seem natural, but really the feel of his rough skin, the heat radiating from his palms, and ease with which he interlaced your fingers, was just too painful for you to endure. You needed to get through today in one piece.

An hour later was the reception, of course you were again seated next to Tequila. But thankfully, Harry and Ginger were also assigned to your table. You were able to avoid the dastardly charming man beside you by engaging Ginger in a detailed conversation about her promotion and what life would entail for you as the new head of communication. You could hear the men beside you carrying on about the plans for Tequila’s transfer and you could feel his gaze upon you every few minutes but you did your best to ignore it.

He was leaving. He was leaving and he wasn’t even going to bother telling you himself. He had finally kissed you and taken you on dates and now he was leaving without a word. You had nothing left to say to him because anything more would just make this hurt last longer.

You cried as Eggsy and Tilde danced, ignoring Tequila’s delicate touch as he massaged your shoulder through the chorus. You ignored how he leaned towards you trying to pull you closer to him. You ignored his humming and smiling. You blocked it all out as best you could.

“Care for a dance, sweet pea?” he asked you once the floor was opened to other couples. You turned to where Ginger was sitting only to find the chair empty. You’d have to chastise her for abandoning you later.

“No thanks,” you said, reaching for your water cup to have something to do.

“Do you, um,” Tequila hesitated, “want me to leave you alone?”

You turned to meet his eyes once more. “I think that would be for the best.”

“I’ll miss you,” he whispered as he stood.

Without thought, you snapped, “Will you?” silently cursing yourself for being so obvious.

Tequila simply sighed but didn’t respond to your outburst. “I’ll be by the bar if you change your mind,” Tequila said. Before he could walk away, he bent down to meet your ear. “The whole reason I’m here, honey, is because I wanted one last dance with my girl. I hope you’ll change your mind.”

And with that, he walked away.

You sat there alone fuming for several minutes. His words should have warmed your heart. He wanted to be with you. He saw you as his girl. Dancing with you was something he wanted desperately. But none of that mattered. The only thing you heard was the word “last.” He wanted you as his girl, but only for tonight. Only for as long as it was convenient to him and didn’t interfere with his going to the UK. Were you really that disposable? Were years of friendship and mutual pining worth nothing?

Your heart broken, you looked over to the bar where Tequila still stood, drink in hand, laughing up a storm at something some bridesmaid was saying. It was the last sign you needed to know that your presence here was unnecessary and mattered to no one. You grabbed you bag, turned, and stormed out as quickly as you could, hoping no one would notice the tears streaming down your face.

Back in your room, a baking show on in the background, an unnecessary amount of room service around you, and dress already ditched for warm and fuzzy pajamas, you heard a knock at your door. Assuming it was the server returning with the additional glass of wine you’d requested, you opened the door eagerly. But to see Tequila, still adorable in his formal denim, smiling down at you, was a punch in the gut. Your mood immediately soured.

“Hello,” you managed to say in the most neutral tone you could offer.

“I came by to see if you’d reconsidered that dance, sugar?” he asked, his smile much more confident than the rest of his body language suggested.

“As you can see, I’m ready for bed and I really should get back to it,” you stated, turning to shut the door.

“Cake show?” Tequila asked quickly, seeing the TV behind you.

“Yeah,”

“The competitive one with that host you hate or the one with the nice British people?” he asked.

“The British one,” you said, voice still cold and passive.

“You always love that one. You request it every time we curl up with some beers after a hard day.” He was smiling at you now and leaning ever slightly forward, but you were determined not to give in.

“Why are you here?” you finally managed to ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Like I said, I’m gonna miss ya, sugar,” Tequila said, placing his hand against the door frame to lean better. “And I wanted one last dance with my girl before I have to go.”

“Last before you find someone else,” you said under your breath before you could stop it. Tequila heard you.

“Sugar,” he said, gripping the door frame hard, “No, never. I spent a year of my life tryin’ to get your attention. Now that I have it, do you really think I’m just gonna forget it? No, ma’am”

You met his eyes and saw the pleading there. You smiled shyly at him, hoping he’d continue, but he waited patiently for your response.

“Why are you going then?”

“They need us. They lost everything and have to start over. When I heard, I couldn’t help thinking what my life would be like if I lost you. I’d want someone to help me pick up the pieces, too. I’d be a wreck,” he said with a chuckle, “Heck, I’m a wreck already and I only have to be away from you for a couple months.”

“Just a couple of months?”

“Yeah, gorgeous,” Tequila said, taking his hand not holding the door frame and stroking your cheek, “I’ll be back as often as I can. And in the long term, Champ wants to set up more permanent channels between our organizations. We’re both thinking you coming to London would be the best way to do that.” He smiled down but at you, filled with pride for all the confidence Champ had in your work. The hand stoking your cheek stopped to cup it, for you to let his words sink in. He’d been planning for you to be together all along.

You squealed and threw yourself into Tequila’s arms. “I’m sorry,” you whispered into the denim at his shoulder. He held your waist tight and close as you continued to speak. “I’m sorry I didn’t communicate. I was so sad you didn’t want me anymore and I just assumed–” Tequila cut you off with a gentle shush.

“I’ll never not want you. And I should’ve said something sooner. I just didn’t want to tell you anything until I had all the details.”

You both continued to hold each other and sway, enjoying the feel of the connection. After a moment, you pulled your head away.

“Want to come inside?” you asked.

“You got it, hun,” Tequila responded with his signature smirk. When he looked inside and saw your buffet, he added, “You wouldn’t have another glass of wine in there, would ya, love?”

As if on cue, the server returned holding a full glass of red. Tequila plucked it from the man without a word. “We should do this more often,” he said to you as he took a few sips of the bitter liquid before shutting the door securely behind him.

#kingsman #kingsman imagine #tequila x reader #tequila #tequila kingsman #reader insert

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