#i had to clean out the dressing rooms 8 times in an hour and a half

[ladykailitha]

The Hellfire Exotic Club Part 11

Just two more chapters to go. The tension is ramping up and you're gonna want to hold on to your seats. This is the penultimate chapter before everything is revealed. And hooboy is it going to be great fun.

In this we find out who the cleaner was and he gives Eddie the final clue he needs to stop his troubles once and for all.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

~

Eddie enjoyed watching the cleaning crew. They were like bees in a hive, not bumping up against each other or trying to do the same tasks. Cleaning up after some days was hell, like Tuesdays and Saturdays and he always made sure to pay extra on those days.

That said, he really didn’t know any of them. The only familiar faces were the foremen. Eddie has asked the head forman about it once and was told that cleaning Hellfire was such a cushy job that he rotated teams so that everyone got a chance at it.

So imagine his surprise when one of the cleaners stopped Steve on his way out of the dressing room for a short chat.

It looked a little heated, if Eddie was being honest and was about to step in when Steve broke away from the conversation and drifted his direction.

Eddie cocked his head toward the cleaner. “Who was that?”

“An old friend of mine,” Steve said with a shrug. “I didn’t realize he had fallen on such hard times. Apparently his mom broke her hip and hasn’t been able to work for the last year.”

“That’s rough,” Eddie said, and waved his arm for Steve to go first. “I don’t know how much the cleaners make, but maybe if he puts in an application we can find him something to do here. Hell, he could work in the kitchen if Monty liked him well enough.”

His chef was a thin, wiry looking fellow, but he knew how to make the best club food anyone had ever tasted. He was also particular about who worked with him. But Monty could always use an extra hand or two and it would never hurt to try.

“I’ll let him know the next time I see him,” Steve said with a fond smile. “He’s also got a little brother in college, maybe have him apply too. Couldn’t hurt. What’s the least that’s going to happen, you say no? They won’t be any worse off for applying.”

“Yeah,” Eddie agreed. He didn’t think that he would hire either of them if he was honest, but like Steve said, they wouldn’t be worse off for it. “So how was Creepy McCreepy?”

Steve bumped Eddie with his hip. “Henry Creel was fine. He’s just passing through, by the way, Mr. Worry Wort. I think he has bigger fish to fry then some high end exotic dancing club. Not that this place isn’t worth scalping, but I think he’s aiming for higher?”

“World domination?” Eddie teased, leaning into Steve space.

He laughed and nudged him away with his elbow. “Yeah, probably.”

~

Eddie ended up meeting with Steve’s friend because the guy needed consistent money coming in and while cleaning job paid okay, it really didn’t have many regular clients other than the club. Mostly they cleaned up after major sporting events, political conventions, stuff like that. And with their boss Murray always rotating the crew who cleaned the club, some weeks were good, others not so much.

Eddie had to admit that guy cleaned up really good. With his hair out of his face and wearing nice clothes, he wasn’t bad to look at.

“Jonathan Byers?” he said, rising to greet him from a table he had sectioned off for the interview.

“Yeah,” he said, shaking Eddie’s hand. “Thanks for agreeing to see me.”

Eddie smiled. “No problem. I’m sorry to hear about your mom.”

“Thank you.”

Eddie pulled out three pages and spread them out in front of Jonathan. “There are three positions open right now, let’s see if you fit any one of them.”

He pointed to the first one. “This is for the busser position. Basically you go around after people have left to take away plates and glasses as well as pick up any tips. You’ll get a small portion of the tips but mostly it’s a flat rate of $15 an hour.”

Jonathan nodded.

“This one is for a cook’s assistant,” Eddie said tapping on the second one. “Often called a prep chef in bigger kitchens. Basically you’ll prepare everything for the chef and put it in the fridge for him to grab as he goes. You’ll get here at 4pm and leave at 8pm when the club opens. Pay is $22 an hour because it’s only four hours a day.”

Again Jonathan nodded. “That makes sense.”

“And finally the waiter position,” Eddie said. “This one in the highest paid, but also the most demanding. You’ll only have two days off a week and you’ll work from 8pm-2am. Base pay is $15 an hour, but you get a set amount of tips every night. Usually it’s percentage, but if it’s a rough night, you’ll see a base pay of $200 in tips for the night. You aren’t expected to pimp for tips as it were, as you aren’t the main attraction. You’ll be invisible for most of the time and some will even get mad at you for blocking their view of the show.”

“Wow,” Jonathan said. “That’s really fucking generous.”

“I try to be,” Eddie said cocking his head to side, “because living in this hellscape we call American Capitalism is hard enough without having to worry about not having enough money for shit.”

“Can I take these with me and then send over my resume for the position I’m most interested in applying for?” Jonathan asked, placing his hand over the a couple of the pages.

“Sure thing,” Eddie said. “I have copies on my computer. I’ll give you to the end of the week, otherwise I’m going to have to start looking elsewhere.” He stood up and Jonathan did the same.

“That’s fair,” Jonathan said, holding up the pages. “Thanks for this. Because you gave me a chance, even if I don’t end up working here.”

They shook hands.

“Let me walk you to your car,” Eddie said, waving his arm for Jonathan to go first.

He huffed out a laugh. “I don’t have a car right now, my girlfriend is coming to pick me.”

“Then I’ll wait with you,” Eddie offered.

Jonathan considered it a moment and then shrugged. “Sure, man. Whatever.”

They walked out to the curb and chatted about Jonathan’s family and how his mom was doing. “My brother is going to be famous one day,” Jonathan said with pride. “He is such an amazing painter, his work should be hung galleries.”

“Yeah?” Eddie said with a smile. He knew that tone of voice. It was the same tone Wayne got when he talked about him. “So what did baby Jonathan Byers want to be when he grew up?”

“This is going to sound so weird,” Jonathan said with a smirk, “but a bug photographer. Not wild life in general. Bugs. Creepy crawlies. Insects and spiders. I loved that shit as a kid. I don’t know how many times I freaked out my mom by bringing in a new bug to take pictures of and then release back into the wild.”

“Young Eddie would have loved you,” he said softly. “I liked bugs and critters you aren’t supposed to go anywhere near. Raccoons, possums, squirrels. Baby Eddie loved them all. My mom,” he wagged his hand back and forth, “not so much.”

“There she is now,” Jonathan said jutting his chin at the red hatchback pulling into the parking lot.

Eddie pursed his lips and resolved not to say a damn word until she did.

And oh boy did she ever. She got out of the car and immediately started yelling at Jonathan.

“What on earth are you doing here?” she cried. “I thought you had an interview.”

Eddie tilted his head to side. “Not an interview yet, more like a fact finding mission. But I like him.” He grinned at her.

“I forbid you from working here!” she shrieked. “This is a den of sin! I have vowed to take it down.”

“Nancy,” Jonathan said warningly. “We’ve had this discussion. If I didn’t work at every place you found morally objectionable, I wouldn’t be able to work at all. I just need something stable until Will graduates and Mom can move around on her own again.”

“When you told me that Steve was working in this hive of iniquity ,” Nancy growled, “I made it my responsibility to shut it down once and for all. To save Steve, to save you from having to sweep the vile filth from its floors.”

“What?!” Jonathan cried. “I didn’t tell you Steve was working here to have you go on one of your crusades. I told you because Steve was a good friend when both of you were dancing ballet together.”

“It’s a sin!” she cried one more time.

“So is fornication,” Jonathan huffed. “And breaking and entering and a shit ton of other things you do that are supposedly okay as long as you do them.”

Nancy folded her arms and stomped her foot. “That’s not the same and you know it. They have actual fucking nights dedicated to a specific deadly sin. I may have broken a few laws in my time, but I would never stoop the depths of depravity that his club sinks to!”

“You continue with this vendetta,” Jonathan warned, “and I swear to God, we’re through. There is nothing wrong with what they do. So what if people see them naked. Don’t go see it. Your rights stop at their personhood. You can only dictate what you do and not anyone else.”

He turned to Eddie. “Can you take me home? I don’t think I want to be in the same car as her.”

“Sure thing, man,” he replied, thumbing behind him. “Just let me lock up and I’ll be right out.”

When he came back Nancy had gone and Jonathan looked like a kicked puppy.

“You ready to go?”

Jonathan nodded and without a word followed him to his car. After get the address and putting it into the GPS, Eddie said, “I’m sorry about how she acted. Has she done this sort of thing before?”

“When I first graduated high school I got a job at a photography studio,” he muttered. “I took pictures of babies and toddlers. I had this cute little pink rabbit that never failed to get a smile.” He cleared his throat. “She found out that in addition to family portraits, bridal and wedding photos, they also did boudoir photo shoots.”

“Oh no,” Eddie moaned, completely seeing where this was going.

“Yeah,” Jonathan said with a sniffle. “She got the place shut down when she found out that some official’s daughter got them for the guy she was sleeping with, who was not her fiancé.”

Eddie frowned. That sounded too familiar.

“Anyway,” Jonathan continued, “this bitch got the whole place shut down and suddenly I was without a job. If I ever find her, I think I’d like to strangle her with my bare hands.”

“Her named wouldn’t be Heather Holloway, would it? Mayor Kirk Holloway’s daughter?” Eddie asked running his tongue over his upper lip slowly.

Jonathan snapped his fingers. “Yeah, that’s the snake in the grass.”

Eddie pulled off to the side of the road and closed his eyes. “It’s a fucking scam. Holy shit! It’s a fucking scam.”

“What is?” Jonathan asked.

Eddie turned around. “I just figured the whole thing out. All of it. The attacks against Steve, Billy getting caught with his hands up the wrong skirt, Jason fucking Carver. I’ve got to give it to your girl, she is one smart manipulative bitch. But I’m smarter.”

~

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[did-you-fall-for-a-shooting-star]

Is today a full moon? Is there some type of planetary alignment? Is the fucking apocalypse coming???

WHY ARE PEOPLE BEING SO FUCKING WILD TODAY???

[fatherbrat]

ONE LAST TIME, R. SUNA

sum. two months into your relationship with your current boyfriend, your ex-fwb finally sends you a voicenote to let you know exactly how he feels about it.

feat. rintarou suna

cw. ex-fwb!suna, cheating, mutual masturbation (kinda lol), jealousy, dirty talk, anal mention, pillow humping, possessiveness, degradation

wc. 1.2k

When you posted your first official pictures of you and your new boyfriend, you had expected Suna to react…negatively. You basically braced for impact the moment you hit post, but all you got from him was an Instagram notification and two texts.

sunarin liked your post.

rin ;)

lmk if you want me to delete our pics.  and hmu when you two break up :p

You never bothered replying, initially not sure how to reply, and then forgetting about the texts entirely. The two of you barely have any contact for a few weeks after that, but he's obviously keeping up with your socials; liking every post and viewing every story. It doesn't bother you, but it's weird going cold turkey on your relationship like that. You had expected him to reach out for some sort of closure. You wanted him to. 

Halloween swings by in no time, and (much to you boyfriend’s dismay) you dress up as a sexy nurse. You don’t remember much of the night, but you do know that you posted a picture of you and your friends all dressed up on your story before getting blackout drunk. 

Your phone dies early on in the night. Your friends take good care of you up until it’s time to bring you back home, and you don’t wake up until the afternoon. You don’t check your phone until a couple hours after that—long after it's been turned on and charged to 100%. 

When you finally check it, two particular notifications catch your attention. 

sunarin liked your story. 

rin ;)

Voice Message

The voice message is 12 minutes long. 

You exit your texts immediately, opting to distract yourself by tending to your other notifications. It doesn’t help much. Your mind races, wondering what he was talking about for so long and if it was really so important that he reached out after almost four months of near-silence. 

You toss your phone onto your bed, shaking your head. You try to ignore it, cleaning the bathroom and folding the laundry and vacuuming the living room all in an effort to forget about the lengthy recording sitting in your phone. 

But it doesn’t take long for the curiosity gnawing at you to win. 

You practically run back to your bedroom, grabbing your phone and sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed. Your fingers move quickly across the screen, hitting play without hesitation. 

The first 8 seconds are nearly silent, and you start to wonder if it’s possible that he sent such a long message by mistake.

But then you hear a heavy sigh.

“I like your costume.” His tone is hushed, like he’s telling you a secret. “You look hot.”

There’s another moment of silence, like he’s giving you a chance to change your mind and stop listening. 

But then Suna moans and your eyes nearly bulge out of your head. 

“You never answered my text, y’know. When I asked if you wanted me to delete our pictures. So, uh, I kept ‘em.”

Oh. 

Oh fuck.

“I’m looking at one right now. It’s from last Halloween. When you-“ His breath hitches. “When you went as a Playboy Bunny.”

You remember. Suna dressed as Hugh Hefner and the two of you went to a party together. Then he took you back to his apartment and fucked you while you were still wearing the bunny ears and bowtie. 

You’re pretty positive you’re not wearing the bodysuit in the picture he’s looking at. 

“I don’t know how much of this night you actually remember, but I can describe the picture for you.”

You tense, anticipation sending goosebumps up your arms. 

“You’re kneeling on the ground, looking up at the camera, and you’ve still got those bunny ears on your head.”

This voice message is going in the last direction you thought it would.  Is he—?

“You’ve got cum all over your face, baby.” He laughs to himself before continuing. “And you’re sticking your tongue out like a fucking whore.”

Suna takes a ragged breath, a sound you're all too familiar with. It confirms your suspicions—he’s definitely jerking off. 

“That was a good night. We had a lot of good nights.” He sounds miffed all of a sudden. “I seriously doubt the boyfriend is fucking you as good as I did.”

You suppress a shiver. A pang of guilt heats your chest at the mention of your boyfriend. You should stop listening. Delete the message. Tell him to delete the pictures and then probably block him. 

Or you could let the message keep playing. 

Suna inhales sharply, followed by a shaky moan. You swear you can hear the sound of his fist stroking his dick. 

“I hope you’re not letting him put it in your ass like you let me. That’s our thing, okay?”

Under different circumstances you would have laughed. 

“Fuck,” he hisses. “And I hope you’re not letting him spit in your fucking mouth. Or–shit–doing that thing where you’d suck me off with your head hanging upside down off the bed.” He falters at the end of the sentence, groaning into the phone.

“I’m not gonna–” he interrupts himself, sighing deeply. “I’m not gonna pretend I’ve been happy for you. I miss you.”

You feel hot all over, a heady combination of annoyance and arousal and embarrassment. There’s a dull throbbing between your legs and in the back of your mind you wonder if this is what Suna wanted when he sent the message. 

“Just–just let me fuck you one more time. Okay princess? I’ll make it sooo good for you,” he whines. You can hear his hand picking up speed.

“It’s still early. Two months is nothing, it won’t even count as cheating.” You can hear the smirk in his voice. “God, just one last time. Please?”

Without thinking, you grab a pillow and position yourself over it in a straddle. You won’t let him fuck you, but that doesn’t mean he can’t make you come one last time.

“I promise I’ll do that thing you like with my tongue. And you can pick all the positions if you want to.” There’s a tremble in his voice. “Or just lay there. I’ll do all the work.”

You grind into the pillow beneath you, picturing the expression you know he’d be wearing if he were in front of you–batting those dark eyelashes with raised eyebrows, just barely able to control the smug curve of his lips.

Heat pools in your gut and a whimper falls from your lips. Suna keeps talking.

“I know you miss me. You have to. You’re probably touching yourself to this right now.” 

You gasp softly and rock your hips faster.

“Such a fucking slut.” You hear the telltale quiver in his voice that tells you he’s getting close. “My fucking slut.”

You moan, his words giving you flashbacks.

“Oh fuck. Fuck, I’m coming,” he rasps, before letting off a series of moans and whimpers that almost make you concede. You grind harder into the pillow beneath you, imagining Suna in his room, chest heaving, talking into the phone and making himself come to pictures of you. 

That does it. A tsunami of pleasure washes over you, forcing your body to tense before you go limp, collapsing onto your bed with a shudder.

You and Suna breathe in tandem, both of you catching your breath. 

You hear another laugh through the phone. “Damn, that was a lot.” There’s the sound of sheets rustling. “Kinda made a mess, princess.”

He’s silent for another few beats before clearing his throat. “Text me, okay?” he says quietly. “Please.”

The voice message ends.

[benevolentbones]

gideondaughter!reader and spencer first time talking when the team goes to dinner and spencer is just a mess talking to her

thank you sm for the request!! hope you enjoy<3 requests are still open i’ll be working through them!

kids table | spencer reid x gideon!reader part 1

part 2

warnings: mentions of alcohol, light flirting.

word count: 1.5k

summary: it’s gideon’s birthday dinner and the team are here to celebrate.

“are you sure he booked it for 8:30?” jj hummed, holding her clutch purse close to her sage green maxi dress.

“yes. gideon party of nine at mastro’s, 8:30pm.” spencer recalled, having the time and place drilled into his mind in fear of being late.

“party of nine? but there’s only eight of us?” elle’s brows contorted, she counted everyone in the room. jj, morgan, reid, garcia, hotch, prentiss, herself and then gideon who was yet to show, that was only eight.

“maybe he’s bringing a date?” penelope chuckled, her hands smoothing down the hem of her fitted pencil dress.

“gideon? with a date? i highly doubt that.” morgan snickered, leaning against garcia.

the group of agents waited rather impatiently for gideon to arrive to the restaurant. all adorned in their best dress for the awaited man of the hours birthday dinner.

hotch sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his pointer finger and thumb.

“it’s only 8:25, he will be here.” he muttered out.

spencer began to fumble with his hands, he would class himself as a fairly patient man, the only thing on his mind currently was who the mystery ninth guest could be. he didn’t like not knowing things, it was part of being a profiler he guessed.

the doors to the dimly lit restaurant swung open, jason gideon walking in full stride with a grin on his face. he wore a navy blue suit jacket paired with his signature chinos.

“finally you’re here, they’ve been complaining for the last ten minutes.” prentiss sighed, placing a hand on her hip.

“its not even 8:30, i said i would be on time- but y/n here couldn’t find the shoes she wanted to wear.” gideon let out a small chuckle as a figure walked through the doors behind him.

a girl, roughly in her early twenties stood beside gideon. her hands clamped together in front of her, a black satin dress adorned her figure, hugging her nicely, which she paired with matching black heels.

“well i found them in the end, dad.” she mumbled out, greeting the group with a small smile.

half the team stood there it awe, mouths gaped and eyes locked on the latest arrivals.

“you clean up nice, jason.” hotch nodded towards the older man, then turning his sights on you.

“beautiful as ever.” he smiled, which he rarely did, and leaned over to give you a hug.

“thanks uncle aaron.” you grinned back, embracing his warm hug.

“i’m sorry you need to catch us up real quick- dad? uncle?” morgan titled his head like a confused puppy.

“i didn’t realise you’d have trouble putting two and two together, morgan. this is my daughter, y/n.” gideon mused, ushering you further into the room.

you held out your hand, derek quickly took it in his, giving it a small shake, cogs in his mind still visibly turning.

“and aaron isn’t actually my uncle- he just acts like it.” you pulled your hand back, returning it to your side.

gideon quickly introduced you to the rest of the team, everyone seeming to come to terms with the fact gideon had a ‘secret’ daughter that he never once brought up.

all the while spencer stood, hands glued to his sides as he eyed you. he had never seen someone so perfect, the way the dress hung from your frame, the way you politely greeted every member of the team.

when gideon had finally reached him to introduce y/n to him, he was caught off guard.

“reid, meet my daughter y/n, im sure it’s not as hard for you to understand.” gideon hummed, making a dig at morgan who had migrated with the group to where the table was set up.

unlike the others, you kept your hand to yourself, but shot spencer a sweet smile.

“it’s really nice to meet you dr. reid- my dad has told me so much about you, i know you’re not big on handshakes.”

spencer’s heart was practically doing backflips at this point. he was completely enamoured by you.

“really nice- to meet you too.” he managed to stutter out.

gideon internally rolled his eyes, knowing exactly what was happening.

“how about we sit down and look at the menu.” he began to usher his daughter towards the table, spencer following quick at his heels.

by the time the three of them had reached where the table set for nine was, the rest of the team were sat, eagerly awaiting them. the only free spaces were at either end of the rectangular table, and an extra place next to the end seat.

“hey gideon come look at this” jj beckoned the older man over, to the head of the table. he briefly turned back to his daughter, before he could utter a word she nodded, knowing that she wouldn’t be sitting with him.

“guess we can sit down at the end together.” you affirmed, shuffling to the free seats with spencer by your side.

once seated, everyone began flipping through the menu, all besides spencer who’s gaze every so often flickered over to the girl beside him, who seemed deep in thought about what she was going to order.

“what are you going to get?” she asked, attempting to make quiet conversation with the man at her side.

spencer hummed, he had researched the restaurant before hand noting all of the dishes he might like.

“the uh- the pasta, i think.” he paused for a moment. “what about you?” he cursed the heat that rose to his face, lifting his hand to loosen the dark purple tie around his neck.

you smiled, still scanning the menu, taking glimpses of spencer in his flustered state.

you had heard many things about most of the team throughout your fathers years of working with them, and when he finally allowed you to meet them, you were most excited to meet spencer.

“i might have that too, it sounds good.”

a few hours had past since everyone had sat down, everyone had finished eating and were now onto their fourth round of drinks, all besides you and spencer.

everyone was deep in conversation about a case from a few years back, obviously you had no clue what they were talking about.

you turned to spencer, who seemed to have gotten more comfortable being in such close proximity to you.

“i swear it feels like we are sitting at the kids table at a christmas dinner.” you giggled to yourself.

“i know right- it’s it’s like we aren’t even here.” spencer returned the chuckle, his heart beating a little faster.

“how are you enjoying the night- i hope im not boring you too much, if you want to join the rest of them feel free.” you mumbled out, eyes migrating to your hands that you had placed on your lap.

“no no- i like it here, i like you- i mean i like being with you i-“ spencer fumbled on his words, causing you to smile. god he was a complete mess.

you reached a hand over, placing it on spencer’s forearm. he could swear his skin felt like it was burning from your touch.

“i like being with you too, spencer.” you whispered out, a soft pink blush dusting your cheeks.

his hazel eyes locked with yours, and he felt his breath hitch in his throat. he was partly confused as to why someone like you had enjoyed his awkwardness and rambling.

to say he had little experience talking to women in more than a friendly way, was an understatement.

he was completely out of his depth, and the fact that your father, his boss, sat at the other end of the table made things a little more awkward for him.

“you look really-good tonight, by the way.” he managed to mumble out, without sounding like a complete idiot.

this caused your face to flush, darting your eyes away from him briefly.

“thank you spencer.”

“would you maybe want to-“ before he could continue, gideon had stood up from the table, all eyes were on him.

“lets go y/n, your old man is getting too tired for this.” he joked.

“oh right-“ you stood up quickly brushing off your dress, you did a small lap of the table thanking everyone for the lovely evening and telling them it was great to meet them.

you then followed gideon out of the room, all remaining eyes were now on spencer who slumped down into his chair.

“that’s rough man, you had all night and didn’t even ask her out.” morgan shook his head lightly, feeling somewhat bad for the boy genius.

before spencer could say anything, he watched you dart back into the room, a piece of paper in your grasp. you quickly placed it in spencer’s hand before pressing a light peck to his cheek and running off out of the restaurant again.

the now flustered brunette un crumpled the paper, scanning the scribbled words.

thanks for talking all night, id love to go out with you sometime x

555-555-555 - y/n

“never mind- atta boy!”

[cutielando]

healing | r.c.

synopsis: in which Rafe learns how to navigate life with you after his father’s death

a/n: i am having terrible rafe cameron fever after watching the first half of obx4, so potentially rafe fics coming up after neglecting my man:(

my masterlist

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

The loud clock on the wall in front of you was ticking loudly, each tick matching the rapid thumping of your stressed out heart.

Ever since Rafe left to sort out a business deal, ghosted you for 4 days before calling you and telling you he had been held hostage, you couldn’t seem to calm down.

Your hands were always sweating, your heart was threatening to beat out of your chest as you anxiously waited for a sign, any sign that he was coming home safe and sound.

And yet, the hours went by, and no such news ever came. You were going out of your mind, trying to occupy your time by shopping obsessively with Rafe’s card and cleaning the house for his imminent return.

It was hard on you, being kept in the dark about where Rafe was, if he was even safe or if he was going to come back home to you.

You didn’t know what to think, and the minutes upon minutes spent alone with your thoughts were not doing you any kind of favors.

On day 8 since he was gone, everything was going exactly as the previous day.

You woke up, spent a couple of minutes staring at the empty space next to you in the bed, wishing more than anything that you would close your eyes, open them up again only to see Rafe in front of you, his ocean blue eyes sparkling as he looked at you.

But nothing worked, so you settled for yet another day alone, praying for your boyfriend’s return.

You finally got out of bed, did the little amount of self-care that you cared enough to do in those moments, got dressed into a pair of shorts and one of Rafe’s t-shirts before reluctantly making your way downstairs to the kitchen.

Had it not been for your grumbling stomach, you probably would have spent the entire day in bed, staring at pictures of you and Rafe on your phone.

Everything in the house was quiet, only the faint sound of the TV playing up in Wheezie’s room making up for the deafening silence.

You were just in the middle of making pancakes, smiling lightly because they were Rafe’s favorites, when you heard footsteps coming to the kitchen from the front door.

You didn’t think anything of it, used to people always entering and leaving the house.

But there was something different this time, and you didn’t even realize you could feel it in your heart.

The atmosphere was tense, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up as if they knew just who had walked into the house.

“Hey, doll” the voice only confirmed what your body had already figured out, making you stop dead in your tracks.

You froze, your heart beating furiously as tears started welling up in your eyes. Slowly, you managed to gather enough strength in your body to turn around, your eyes immediately landing on the one man you had been so desperate to see.

Rafe Cameron.

In the flesh, right in front of you in the kitchen of his home.

“Please tell me you’re real and I’m not hallucinating” you whispered, the tears threatening to spill onto your cheeks, your palms almost shaking from the anticipation.

You had been waiting for this moment for an entire week, so eager to just see him with your own eyes, confirm that he was okay and nothing had happened to him.

It felt like you were dreaming, and you needed every single ounce of confirmation to say otherwise.

“It’s me, baby. It’s Rafe” he whispered, the emotions inside of him running just as high as yours.

You smiled through the tears and ran towards him, flinging yourself into his arms and almost knocking him off of his feet. He laughed in your ear, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist as he enjoyed the feeling of your body pressed against him, the feeling of finally being home to his best girl.

The feeling of finally being with you again.

Rafe had never before gone through so much shit in such a short period of time before. Being kidnapped, trying to find his dad only to learn that he had been killed in the jungle and somehow the Pogues were involved, not knowing if he was ever going to get the chance to see you again.

Not knowing if he was going to make it back home alive and not in a body bag.

All he could think about in those moments, all he could occupy his mind with was you. Getting home to you, feeling your calming presence around him, being able to just hold you and forget about everything else but the two of you.

The thought of coming home to you was the only thing that had kept him from losing every single ounce of hope and giving up on trying to get out of the trouble he had unintentionally found himself in.

“I can’t believe you’re actually here” you whispered into his neck, your voice breaking mid-sentence as you clung onto him like your life depended on it.

“I’m here, I’m home, baby” he shushed you, kissing everywhere that his lips could touch. 

He had missed being able to kiss you, to even touch you for an entire week, he wasn’t going to waste a single opportunity to have his hands or lips on you.

Neither of you knew how long you stood there, embracing each other like one of you was going to disappear into thin air if you let go. The only sound that could be heard in the empty kitchen was your shared breathing and the occasional whisper of reassurance from Rafe that he was really here, he was back.

Rafe didn’t even think about what had happened to him just days or hours before, he allowed himself to not think about his now deceased father and what that meant for his family. He didn’t think about anything else other than enjoying this moment with you, enjoying the peace of mind he got from simply your presence next to him.

He didn’t want to think about anything else but you and him.

But he knew he needed to face reality sooner or later, he knew he would have to tell you everything that had happened to him while he was away. He owed you that, given how worried sick you had been for him.

“Come on, let’s go upstairs and talk” he whispered at some point, making you nod but make no move to pull away from him.

He chuckled once he felt your arms only tighten around his neck, reaching down to help you jump and wrap your legs around his waist so he could carry you upstairs.

Slowly, but surely, the both of you found your way to his large bedroom, sitting down on his bed close to each other, your hands intertwined tightly.

You didn’t know what to expect when Rafe said he had to tell you everything that had happened to him, but you knew he needed to get everything off his chest. Nothing ever came of him keeping everything bottled up, so you knew it was important.

But you definitely didn’t expect the story that you had heard as soon as Rafe had started talking. Each sentence shocked you more and more to the core, until the last thing that came out of his mouth were the words “I found out my father died and the Pogues are somehow involved in it”. 

The shock that ran through your body, the way your blood ran cold and your eyes welled up with tears once again, it was something you didn’t think you could ever experience or feel.

The sight of Rafe struggling so hard not to break down, but ultimately cracking under the pressure and sobbing into your arms, it made your heart break into a million pieces at the sight of the broken boy in your arms, your boy who was suffering beyond comprehension.

“They killed him and left him for dead in a ditch. Sarah just left him there without ever looking back. Who does that to their own father?” his broken voice said, slightly muffled because he had buried his face into the hem of your T-shirt.

“I don’t know, baby. I don’t know” you whispered, your lips pressing kisses along his temple every now and then, the only thing you were focused on was making sure he would be okay.

You had to make sure of that.

The minutes ticked by slowly, but neither of you seemed to notice. Rafe had slowly started to calm down, his sobs now only reduced to sniffles every now and then, but he made no move to pull away from your comforting touch.

He had missed you so much, the way you seemed to understand exactly what he needed, you always knew exactly what he was feeling without even asking. He sometimes thought you knew him better than he knew himself, and it sometimes scared him.

“Are you feeling a bit better?” you asked, your voice soft as your hands continued rubbing soothing circled on the skin of his back and the back of his head.

He sighed, burying his face further into your chest, like a child begging for a mother’s love and warmth.

“Yeah, I just needed to get things off my chest” he said, making you smile sadly. 

“You can always talk to me, no matter what. About anything. I might not always know how to help, but I know how to listen” you said, making the both of you chuckle.

In that moment, even though neither of you knew what tomorrow’s day was gonna bring, you knew that you would face it together.

Just like always.

♡♡♡♡♡

18 months.

18 months have gone by since Ward had died, and since Rafe returned to you from Guadeloupe. 

18 months since Rafe had decided that he would do everything in his power to make sure his father would be proud of him. 

18 months in which he had been planning out his entire life with you, and 10 months since he had decided to make things official and propose to you. 

Rafe had decided that while he wanted to be like Ward in every aspect of his life and make him proud by becoming the man he had always wanted Rafe to become, he didn’t want to have a family like his.

He didn’t want a broken family, and he didn’t want to be a crappy husband or a dead-beat father for your kids. He wanted to be the man that you deserved to spend the rest of your life with, the man that would get to treat you like the princess that you truly were.

You had been there for him ever since he could remember, sticking with him when he knew you shouldn’t have, you believed in him when he didn’t even believe in himself. Every single time when he didn’t know what to do with himself, when he would feel like every hope for him was lost, you were there.

You were the light of his life, and he would never dream of having a life without you in it. He could never imagine being with someone else, letting another person know him on the level that you did. 

He could never live without you.

And you couldn’t live without him, either.

You hadn’t thought that your relationship with Rafe could get any better, but time seemed to want to prove you wrong. 

You couldn’t imagine your life being more perfect than it was with Rafe.

He was finally happy and free, at the top step of his company, making millions and millions of dollars, taking care of you and his family.

He was everything that you had ever dreamed of when you were a little girl. He was handsome, he was hot, he was sweet, attentive, loving, strong, independent, resilient. 

No words could ever describe the amount of love and pride you carried in your heart for Rafe. He had come such a long way from the troubled boy you once knew, having grown into the literal man of your dreams.

And yes, it maybe took his father passing away for him to finally wake up to reality and truly get his shit together, but you didn’t care.

Because you would always be with him, no matter what.

It was the two of you against the world.

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[multifandomgirl08]

Give and Take (Kind of Love We Make) [Mini Verstappen Series]

Dad!Max Verstappen x Wife!Reader (Established Relationship)

Summary: Max had a plan in his head for the evening. He had mapped out the track before, and intended to keep to his strategy until they got home.

Warning(s): 18+, Implied sexual content, Oral Sex (Female Receiving) okay maybe it's more than implied.

A/N: Thank you Anon for your request. I hope you like it! It's a little more than steamy but I couldn't help myself as I was working on it.

Title from the song I Get Off by Halestorm

There is a short morning after continuation in the reader's POV here.

Words: 3k

Previous Part → Next Part Mini Verstappen Masterlist

Nico would be spending the night at Lando’s since he and Y/N were having date night tonight. He was in the process of dropping Nico off before going back home.

"Nico," Max said while Lando was in the other room. Nico had run over to Max and hugged his legs.

"Take care of Uncle Lando." Max wasn't concerned about Nico spending time with Lando. He was concerned that Lando wouldn't know what to do with Nico aside from letting him eat junk food and watch cartoons past his bedtime.

"Max," Lando started to say walking out from the guest room in his apartment. "He'll be fine. I'll make sure that the kid is in bed by midnight."

Max gave Lando a knowing glare.

"10 o'clock?"

Max made sure to look him right in the eyes this time. He and Y/N never let Nico stay up past 9 on a weekend.

"Fine, 9." Lando looked slightly defeated.

Max kissed Nico on his forehead, "Mama and I will pick you up in the morning."

Nico gave a quick nod back.

“No sugar after 8 Lando,” He warned. Lando just nodded and smiled at him. The Brit was going to regret not listening to him.

It only took Max half an hour to drive home. As he walked through the front door of the house, he could hear Y/N from her office that was on the far end of the living room. Probably on the phone with a client or one of her co-workers. He glanced down to his watch, to see that it was only 4:45, and they didn’t have to be at the restaurant until 8.

Max had made his way downstairs to the master bedroom to take a quick shower. If Y/N wasn’t out of her office by the time he was out he could get on the sim for a while or play Call of Duty online until he had to get dressed.

He was quick about his shower, washing his hair and body. When he got out of the shower, he considered shaving but then decided not to. His facial hair looked like it was turning into a full beard if he let it grow out a little more. He discarded his towel into the hamper, walking to his closet to rummage through his drawers for clean underwear, shorts and a shirt. As he was sliding his shorts over his legs, he could hear footsteps coming down the stairs.

He poked his head out of the closet to see Y/N walking into the room with her phone in her hand before dropping it onto the sheets of the bed.

“How was dropping Nico off?” She asked.

“Lando didn’t listen when I told him about Nico’s schedule.”

“Then he can deal with the consequences of him not going to bed.” She had slipped into her closet while Max moved to the other doorway that connected to the bathroom.

“How much do you want to bet he’ll call Daniel if he has trouble?” Max knew that Lando would need help.

“I don’t think you give him enough credit.” Max knew right away that she was just saying that to rile him up a bit.

“A bet then?” He asked.

“Pick up duty next week?” He would take that bet.

That seemed fair. He knew that Y/N had to work late next week, so if Lando didn’t need help with Nico, Max could take care of picking up Nico next week.

“And what do I get if I win?” He asked. She only looked at his eyes and he knew that if he was right, it would only be a matter of when he wanted something, not what it would be.

“Deal.” Max kisses her, pulling her into his chest, her hands settling at his sides before he slowly moved away from her. He left her standing there until he heard the shower turn on.

He left the bathroom and made the short walk to the room where his racing sim was. He set up iRacing for a quick session. By the time the session would end, he could log off and get dressed and would still be ready to leave before Y/N.

Gianni and Enzo were online, and they ran through a quick session. As they were all finishing out the session Max looked at the time on the corner of one of the screens on his sim to see it say 6:28. He was quick about saying bye to the guys, but not quick enough that he didn’t catch Gianni teasing him about his dinner plans before he logged off.

His bare feet against the hardwood floors carried him back to the bedroom, to Y/N sitting on the bed with her hair and makeup already done. She had her robe on, one sleeve was sliding down her arm as she was checking her phone.

Max’s eyes moved up her arm to her exposed neck for a few moments. His eyes moved up her face momentarily seeing her lips covered in red lipstick. The sound of the clang of something against the nightstand made him blink. He caught her eyes, and the small smile that spread over her lips.

Max was quick to disappear into his closet, pulling out black slacks, a white button up, and black dress shoes. As he was getting dressed, he kept catching little peeks of Y/N as she pulled on her clothes. Taking hangers out to look at clothes before he saw her settle on a dark blue dress that complimented her skin tone. He had just shoved his wallet into his pants when he could hear her footsteps against the marble floor.

“Maxy, can you zip me up?” She asked. He looked up to see her standing there in a form fitting dress that hugged her perfectly.

He gave her a nod, and she turned around to see that she had managed to pull the zipper up some of the way. He pulled it up the rest of the way before kissing the back of her neck, where the necklace she was wearing was clasped together.

He could feel her melt under him for a moment, “We have reservations at 8.” She hummed.

“I know,” He whispered into her ear. “I made them.”

It would have been easy to persuade her out of the dress and to just order dinner, but he wanted to take her out. There was a foreplay-like aspect about sitting in a crowded restaurant and having to wait it out until they got home.

Max had a plan in his head for the evening. He had mapped out the track before, and intended to keep to his strategy until they got home.

She turned around in his arms, kissing him with her hands now in his hair, and he could feel that she was trying to push him up against the closest wall to get her way.

“Mijn leeuwin,” He started to maul against her lips. His hand moved low, finding the slit that was cut in her dress. His hand started to move up, slowly caressing her skin with his fingers. He kept his feet grounded in the marble flooring before forcing their lips apart.

He looked at her to see her pupils blown wide, and her lipstick a small mess. “After dinner.” He muttered. He knew what she was trying to do, and it wouldn’t work on him. He pressed his lips together and pushed the feeling of arousal from his mind.

He pecked her on the lips quickly before disappearing into his closet to put the rest of his clothes on. He could hear her let out a frustrated huff from the bathroom, before he heard the clicking of heels against the marble.

It didn’t take Max that long to put shoes on. When he had walked out of the bathroom, Y/N’s makeup looked perfect, like he hadn’t kissed her and wrecked her lipstick just because she let him. They had left the house before 7, and Max had his hand on her thigh the entire time he was driving. The restaurant was a 45-minute drive, and by the time they were a few minutes away Max let his hand venture up a bit high on her leg. He could feel her eyes on him, but he kept his eyes on the road.

He wanted her to do her best to force him out of the restaurant after they ate while he acted as the perfect gentleman.

When they pulled up to the restaurant, Max got out of the car first before walking over and opening her door to help her out and give her his arm as they walked.

Once they were inside, the hostess saw them and took them to a table that was closed off to most of the restaurant. Max let Y/N sit first before a waiter pulled out his chair for him, so he was sitting next to her.

They ordered drinks quickly, Max with his normal Gin & Tonic, and Y/N with her usual. Conversation was light before their drinks came. They were quick to thank the waiter.

“Of course, Mr. and Mrs. Verstappen.” The waiter said with a half nod.

Max reached over kissing the back of Y/N’s hand and saw the sparkle of her diamond ring reflected in the candle on their table.

“I’m still getting used to being called that.” She said to him after the waiter left.

“I’ll make sure to call you that more often,” No one that they knew really called her that. Pierre would throw it out there every once in a while.

They had been looking over the menus, and Max’s eyes had fallen to the appetizers when he felt something smooth press into the leg of his dress pants. It was probably the side of her shoe running up and down his calf. Max looked past his menu to see Y/N had a small smile on her face with her eyes running over the menu, she must think she was being clever.

“Kitten, that won’t work.” He managed to get out before the waiter came back. Their eyes met before shifting over to the waiter.

He asked if they were ready to order, and Max was just about to answer when Y/N had dropped her hand into his lap and gave his upper thigh a squeeze.

“Give us another moment to look at the menu.” She cooly said while Max gave the waiter a tight smile. Max had half a mind to leave a hundred on the table, take her hand and leave.

Max waited until the waiter left again giving both of them a curt nod. Max placed the menu down before dropping his hand under the table and ran his fingers over her thigh before finding the slit in her dress once again.

He leaned towards her, running his nose over the shell of her ear, and moving his hand closer to her core. He could feel her slightly shudder against his hand.

“If you don’t stop, I will take you home.” He promised through gritted teeth. He quickly moved his hand away after.

He gave it another 10 minutes before she tried reaching towards his waist. After that Max made a quick move for his wallet, leaving a hundred-dollar bill on the table and grabbing Y/N’s hand. Too bad for her that she would have to suffer through the car ride back to the house.

They were rushing out of the restaurant after paying the bill. Max gave the valet a 20-dollar tip before collecting the key to his Aston Martin. The drive back to the house would have felt quick if it wasn’t for Y/N’s hand on his thigh running over the fabric of his slacks.

He tried to keep his focus on the road and was grateful when he finally got to the gate to the house. Y/N was quick to get out of the car once it was parked, walking in front of him with a distinct sway of her hips before making her way through the side door.

Max got out of the car and followed her through the door before he saw her place her shoes to the side in the entryway. He tossed his keys onto the console with his jacket falling over them. He pushed his shoes off letting them pile up under it.

His eyes fell to Y/N’s bag ended up on top of his jacket. She stepped close to him; his hands went to her waist. Her hands slowly moved towards him, settling in the middle of his chest. He dropped his head just a bit letting their lips meet.

He tightened his grip, crushing the delicate fabric in his hands. Her hands slowly moved up and quickly settled in his hair. He started to search for the zipper that he knew was on the back of the dress, getting frustrated when he couldn’t find it, and let a whine slip past his lips.

He felt one of her hands drop from his hair and took his hand in hers to show him where the zipper was. He pulled away from her letting their lips fall away before opening his eyes to look into hers. The zipper was easy to undo, but he couldn’t look away from her.

“It took you over an hour to get ready just for me to take it all off of you.” He teased.

He saw a light flush reach her cheeks before the dress fell from her frame and pooled around her feet.

She stood there in black lingerie and diamonds. From there Max made quick work of undoing the buttons of his shirt, and she even helped him undo the last few, as laughter fell from both their lips before the shirt ended up on the growing pile of clothes.

Their feet led them into the living room, in a mess of lips, tangled limbs and moans that double paned glass couldn’t muffle. Max let out an audible hiss feeling her nails pressing lines down his back as they moved as one.

Max couldn’t take it anymore. He pulled her outside with him until he was sitting on the couch and had her sit in front of him. She melted against the side of his chest, and reached for the waist of his pants, undoing the button and zipper before forcing them down his legs the best she could. He kicked them off. He felt her lips on his neck right after and he couldn’t help but reach for her, fully pulling her into his lap.

“You always get like this.” He said, rolling his hips into hers.

“That’s because I need you.” She muttered, pulling away from his neck looking into his eyes. “Always.”

Their lips met once more, and it wasn’t long before the last of their clothes ended up discarded by the couch. The night sky being the only thing that shielded them from the rest of the world.

A while later, Max laid there with his back against the cushion of the couch that was in the backyard. Y/N was curled up against his chest with her leg thrown over his hip, and his right hand settled on her left thigh. He laid a kiss on her forehead and tried not to groan at the feeling of his back hurting from where she had dug her fingernails into his back. He knew that when he woke up in the morning the red lines would still be there to remind him.

“Maxy,” She said with her head tucked under his chin.

He hummed into her hair as a response as he mindlessly traced random shapes into the bare skin of her back.

“Thank you for taking me out for dinner.” She said tucking a sweaty piece of his hair away from his forehead.

“You’re welcome, Mrs. Verstappen.” He whispered into her ear. She was quick to pull him into another kiss before shifting in his lap. Max had followed her with his left hand on her lower back, feeling her sit up, and let out a groan that was building up in the bottom of his throat as she pulled away from him reaching for something. 

He didn’t want her shifting in his lap while he was still inside of her, making sure that his cum didn’t drip out of her just yet. He opened his eyes to her, shifting her hips down, opening the blanket that was thrown over the back of the couch and settling it over both of them.

“Thought I was going somewhere?” She asked. He just nodded.

He didn’t want to move from where they were on the couch, but he had gained quite an appetite. Eventually, they pulled away from each other long enough for him to walk back inside for her phone and order pizza from the Italian place that closed at midnight.

Y/N had just set the phone down. Max moved down to his knees and pulled her to the edge of the couch so her legs were resting around his shoulders as he slowly brought her to the edge of an orgasm with his mouth, “Max, you shouldn’t.” She moaned.

“I want something before, I’m hungry.” He said letting his tongue catch what had dropped out of her. He made her come, and reveled in feeling her legs shake around his shoulders, eating her out and tasting the way that their cum mixed together.

Food had come by then, Max gave the delivery boy £50, thanked him and then closed the door, boxes in hand. They vegged outside while eating, splitting the pizza and a tiramisu feeding each other bits and pieces.

Max placed the blanket that was over them on her shoulders and took her hand, walking through the backyard to the French doors that led to the master bedroom.

They ended up entangled around one another, not caring about their lack of clothing, with the sheets kicked off towards the edge of the bed by the early hours of the morning.

Mini Verstappen taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @musingsbyshreya, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence, @fanboyluvr, @champomiel, @gothicwidowsworld, @lighttsoutlewis, @itsalwaysgay, @minkyungseokie, @mynameisangeloflife, @ursforever129, @aundercover, @bborra, @mindless-rock, @cixrosie, @barcelonaloverf1life, @taylorslovesswifties13, @konsti081, @mellowarcadefun, @smnthnclj, @brekkers-whore, @lpab, @thedecalcomania-blog, @xoscar03, @em-gvf01, @haikyuen

[rae-writes]

⊹ Candles [reversed] ⊹

since it's my birthday, I wanted to do a little special self-indulgence, so here's this! || 2.k || written with poly!Mc in mind + our son Luke

4 am 

Early in the morning, before the faux light has even spread across the Devildom, Mammon is in your bed. He’s pushed his way through your door, half asleep himself, stumbled over and climbed underneath your covers (that he swears are softer than his), and has pulled you into his arms. 

Every year, he insists on being the first person to wish you a Happy Birthday, and if not that, then the first who gets to tell you in person— so he's found that coming to your room before the day even begins gets him his title of ‘first’ and gives him alone time with you.

It’s much too early to be awake right now, so he’s content with falling back to sleep with you. His body is in complete contact with yours and he sleepily swears not to let go because he loves you too much. 

5 am 

An hour later, or maybe even less than, Asmo comes to sneak you from his brother’s grasp, gently hauling your barely conscious frame to his room. He wants you to keep getting as much beauty sleep as you can, but he still wants to start getting you ready for your big day! 

Of course, Azzy’s been planning this for weeks, so he has everything prepared and laid out. His alone time with you consists of him lowering you into the steaming bath and massaging you well, scrubbing your hair and body until you’re squeaky clean and practically shining, before toweling you off and dressing you in the clothes he’d set aside. 

Your skin care is done and your hair is fixed flawlessly, nails cut, filed, and painted; everything is all done up by the man himself and he tops it all off with excited kisses and pictures now that you’re [mostly] awake. 

6 am 

After you’re ready for the day, Lucifer takes over and hides you away in his study, selfishly holding you on his lap as you both drink coffee to get properly started. The drink is as bitter as ever, lips glossy with the remnants of it as you both chat quietly. 

He’s your soft start to the day, the calm before the lovable chaos, and the first born makes sure to whisper sweet words alongside the comforting crackle of the fireplace. His hour of alone time is lazy and physical, because he can’t go more than a few seconds without running his gloved hands over you. 

If anything, he’s unwilling to let you go, but Lucifer knows it would throw a wrench into the day’s layout and cause more fuss than necessary— plus, he has some things to do before tonight, so he’ll let you go with a slow kiss.

7 am

You’re handed over into Beelzebub’s capable hands, ensured to be served with a filling breakfast. He’s more than excited to show you what he, personally, cooked for you (even if there are just a few bites out of some of it). His cheeks are stuffed and a cute little smile is spread across his cheeks as he points to all the things on your plate. 

When  your plate is spotless, and your tummy is full but not too full, Beel guides you on a small little walk around the house corridors to make sure you digest properly. He’s still eating, of course, but his pleased hums are filling the air comfortably, making for a nice atmosphere. 

Your little walk ends at the entrance hall, where he bids you goodbye with a cozy little hug, and a promise that you’ll love every second of your special day.

8 am

With a hand at the small of your back, Satan leads you out of the house and straight to a bookstore, wanting to keep a slow start to the long day. With it having just opened, only the two of you and a few others are inside, giving plenty of room to stroll and browse (and goof around). 

He points out things you’ve had your eye on, new editions that weren’t there the previous visit, or special copies that were for limited time. The fourth born wants at least two books in your hand and a little collectible maybe- or a bookmark. Can’t have too many.

Once he’s spoiled you a little, and after you’ve both pet the local cats outside, he’s reluctantly handing you over with a lingering kiss to your hand, and a promise to read one of your books together soon.

9 am

Levi took his place, fingers lacing with yours, as he raved about a nearby anime store, gushing over the items he saw online that reminded him of you. By the time you get there, you know every section that’s going to be inside, yet it’s still exciting as you get pulled in. 

You both get lost in the cool merch, having to wave your hands over the stands or jump in place to find each other occasionally, but end up staying side by side for the most part, whisper-shouting with big smiles. 

Leaving the store, there is a pretty good sized bag on your and his arm, but he couldn’t be more thrilled about the lightness of his wallet since he got to spend money on you. He takes your bag, and your previous bag, in a promise to tuck them safely in your room, before giving you a location.

10 am 

Waiting for you outside of a small little amusement park is Diavolo, who is positively beaming in anticipation. He’s already got two colorful wristbands in hand, which he latches around your wrist, and lets you do the same to him, before heading inside. 

There are rides of all kinds and he lets you choose each one of them, pointing out ones he thinks you’ll like as you pass. You play a few booth games, getting a pretty flame salamander plushie as a prize, or totally failing and having a good laugh. 

His only request is the photo booth, which you both do two different times, to get a silly border and a normal border. He pouts a little as he walks you out, assuring you’d see him later, before leading you a few blocks back into the townsquare. 

11 am

For lunch, Simeon takes you off the paths and to a somewhat secluded gazebo, where a sweet little picnic was spread out; celestial realm dishes were rationed onto baby blue plates, two shiny cups on either side, with polished silverware. 

The breeze is just right as the two of you eat, chatting and sitting closer than usual. Butterflies go by, and your eyes follow, as you both take turns pointing out different kinds you see and what flowers they seem to like better. 

You take your time neatly packing everything up, fingers brushing and shoulders bumping, before he parts with a, dare you say it, angelic kiss to your forehead.

12 pm

Luke, naturally, is in charge of dessert, promising a light, yet satisfying, treat as he leads you down the sidewalk and into a cute looking bakery. He wants you to save room for the many things that were cooked and baked for your party, so he gets a little pile of oreo balls and other small things like that. 

He holds nothing back as he tells you how happy he is to be spending your birthday with you, how he’s so very glad he met you, and anything else along those lines. He has to get them all out now, just in case he doesn’t get the chance to later! 

The sweet angel is nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet as he leads you to your next location, waving excitedly as he promises to help make your party one of a kind.

1 pm

You’re actually given to Raphael next, who’s standing outside of a library with that barely perceptible smile on his face. He explains that he wanted somewhere quiet and cozy to wind down with you, suggesting that you shouldn’t do too much before the big celebration. 

The very back corner of the library becomes yours for now, complete with a pretty view of swaying trees. The archangel almost shyly asks if you’d sit closer, loosely holding your hand as he begins reading to you. 

He stalls a bit at the end, toying with your fingers, before telling you that he’ll see you later…but he’d like to do this again, sometime, okay?

2 pm

Hocus Pocus becomes your next destination, Solomon wasting no time in wrapping an arm around you as you browse the store. It’s slow and unhurried and drawn out as he talks about certain items, explaining a few origins, and listens to how your day’s been so far. 

He dabbles a bit in glittery, washable, body paint, joyously painting random shapes onto your skin (even rolling his sleeves up so you could return the  favor). The sorcerer makes it a point to paint his name along your wrist, taking a picture of it, before helping you wash it all off. 

With a quick spell, he takes away any aching your feet might have, or any sort of headache, teasingly kissing at your jaw, before wagging his fingers as he teleports you somewhere new. 

3 pm

A familiar shade of gold greets you as you're sent sprawling out onto the Castle’s floors. Barbatos chuckles and chides Solomon’s delivery as he helps you up, dusting you off gently. He makes sure you’re alright, boldly carrying you anyway, regardless of your answer.

A soothing, palate cleansing, tea spread is set out on the table as he settles you into the chair, pouring it as delicately as ever, before joining you. Instead of adjacent, he sits beside you, eagerly listening to anything you have to say. 

He may or may not cheat time, prolonging his alone time with you just a little, unwilling to let you go now that you both finally have a minute together. He does have much to get done still, however, and with a [deep] kiss, he politely escorts you through one of his portals. 

4 pm

In the heart of the forest, amongst a wave of flowers, lies Belphie. He’s not asleep, but it’s clear he’s just woken up, as he gestures for you to come lay down, offering a peaceful break. 

Instead of star gazing like usual, he settles for cloud gazing, lazily pointing up and whispering descriptions here and there. It’s serene and quiet and, in his opinion, the perfect way to kill time. 

While he doesn’t want to get up, he does at least hug you and nuzzle close in a send off, watching you go, before flopping back down.

5 pm

Mephisto is more than ready, and honored, to be the one escorting you to your big birthday bash. He takes you on the long path through the forest, deciding that if the others got time alone, surely he could have his own slot, too. 

He keeps close, talking about daily matters, continuing to take small detours as you both make your way through the Devildom. His eyes don’t leave your face much at all as he basks in the moment. 

With a grand, flourishing gesture, he officially announces your arrival, and presents you to your birthday party!

6 pm

Confetti, balloons, changing led lights, and glitter are everywhere. There’s a long table with many presents littering the surface, and another one next to it with small party snacks and desserts. Music plays faint in the background, not really needed over the fun and chaos that comes from the party games picked out, or from the karaoke. 

When the time comes, a cake as astonishing as the previous ones is brought out and magically lit up prettily. Voices harmonize as they all sing you happy birthday , none being able to fight the smile on their faces, but…you couldn’t either. 

And as you circled around the cake, blowing out each of your candles, you wished for what you did every year since coming here: to always be able to stay with your boys. 

With cake and presents over, it delves into more chaos as they all argue over a) who you’re going home with tonight (and that it would be no fair if Mephisto took you, since he’d have you alone), and b) if you went home with a group, who’s room you would be staying in (Solomon taunted Mammon so much, you swore he’d blow a gasket). 

Oh, yeah. You loved them to death.

[shawnxstyles]

naked

DATE: JANUARY 8, 2023

summary: nathan drake was a tease to say the least. you couldn’t focus on work or chores with his constant sex appeal surrounding you. but a completely naked and nonchalant nathan drake, was an even bigger one.

request: please read the request as an additional summary!

words: 3.2k

warnings: SMUT (implied consent, praise kink, playful spanking and exhibitionism if you squint, dirty talk [slight degradation kink], kind of breeding kink, and unprotected sex) language, and very fluffy at the end :)

note: first nathan fic… this was supposed to be just smut, but i made the ending really fluffy and cute 😌 (the amount of times i’ve watched this gif is unholy)

—

Nathan Drake would be the death of you.

He was charming, with a hint of cockiness to always keep you on your toes. His smile lit up every room he waltzed in, which you hated to admit made your heart flutter.

During the many dangerous attempts at trying to find the forbidden gold, you two really connected. For the first few missions, you were always on high-alert as your trust balanced on a fine line. He could’ve ditched you at any minute and left you stranded to fend for yourself. But Nathan wasn’t like that. He stuck by your side and saved your life more than you could ever thank him enough for.

Yes, he’s lied and undergone deception, but it was all for the greater good. You were his greater good. If he never finds the gold, he knows that he hit the jackpot with you. Even if you didn’t know it.

Taking that next step in your relationship was the best idea you both have ever had. You loved Nathan for all that he was— except for one thing; a teaser. Nathan Drake was the biggest teaser ever.

A shirtless Nate strides around arrogantly nearly every day, making you swallow thickly when you gaze at his body a little too long. Sometimes, he’ll flex on purpose while you’re trying to focus on work. Or he’ll be handsy while doing day-to-day chores.

Nate loved that he had such a grasp on you. Today, he used that to his advantage.

He steps out of the steaming shower, barely dried with a towel around his waist. He doesn’t try to secure it as he walks out into the lounge area where you’re reading on the couch with a mug in hand.

You take a glimpse at him when he comes into frame and nearly choke on your coffee. You’ve seen his body countless times, but the sight will never fail to amaze you. Water droplets drip over his chiseled abs, sinking down his V-line and absorbing in his towel. He licks his bottom lip in amusement at your stare, waltzing past you and into the kitchen.

You roll your eyes and resume back to your reading that was nowhere near as interesting as Nathan’s body. You bet you could study an entire course about his structure, and you would excel with an A+. But that would be cheating because you knew his body like the back of your hand.

You knew that he loved to have his back scratched, nails digging into his skin until crescent moon marks appeared. He loved when you moaned his name, specifically screaming it. And Nathan loved when you fawned over his body. His body full of muscle was a temple you worshiped when he had his way with you. You loved praising him because everything you said was true.

Your mind flashes back to last night and all the previous nights where he fucked you into oblivion. You wished it was always that easy to have sex with him, but he always had to make it difficult to get what you wanted.

Typical Nathan.

Once your coffee jolts your system awake, you decide to do a bit of cleaning to get your mind out of the gutter. You call Nathan over to help you with the dishwasher, hoping he’s clothed. When he comes back into the kitchen, however, he’s still not dressed, even though it’s been hours since he took a shower. Actually, he’s less dressed than earlier. He’s wearing nothing but his birthday suit when he smiles at you softly, charm and fake-innocence floating around him.

Bastard.

You try not to avert your eyes down to his prominent member, knowing it will inflate his already massive ego if you stutter your words.

“I need you to help me with the dishes,” You state curtly, jaw slacking while you glare directly into his brown orbs. They’re filled with mischief and lust, positive he’s at least semi-hard. “You wash.”

“Of course, sweetheart,” Nathan’s cheeks crinkle into a toothy smile, walking over to you. His hands cradle your face before he gives you a tender kiss on your forehead. Your clit throbs in time with the rapid beating of your heart. Arousal drips subtly from your cunt and into your panties.

He knows how much you love forehead kisses. God damn him.

He gets started on the dishes, handing you the cleaned items quickly. You bend down to slot them into their places in the washer, falling behind his quick pace. Once he finishes, he smirks at your position; bent over and vulnerable in a thin pair of cotton shorts. His cock pulsates at the view of your curves as you focus on the task in front of you. It was almost too easy.

“Need help, baby?” Nathan’s hands slide over your waist as his body hovers behind you. You inhale sharply at the feeling of him so close to you, causing you to freeze in place. He drags his palms to your hips, caressing the clothed skin teasingly. His thumbs are rubbing the top of your ass, wishing he would spread you open already. You bit your tongue before deciding that you can play this game too.

“I’m good,” After slotting a plate, you raise up and grab another. You purposely lean back into him, causing your ass to grind against his bare cock. Nathan is thick and solid, at his full size now that he’s fully hard. You try not to be affected by the tiny touch. He quietly hisses under his breath and you smirk as you move yourself in triumph. His fingers never leave your hips.

“You’re paying for that,” He squeezes your supple curves warningly and then lightly slaps your ass before waltzing away. You gasp, nearly dropping the plate. The dishes are disorganized and dislocated when you finish, too distracted by the Greek God strolling around the house.

—

Nathan didn’t stop there. He continued to help with house chores while being completely naked. He got handsy and he teased you to the brim. If you tried to reach for something up high, he would lift you by your hips and then slide his hands up your body when bringing you down. His minimal actions made you weak, but left you wanting more every time he walked away.

You took a deep breath before joining your zoom meeting. Even when Nathan was intervening in your thoughts, you still had work to do.

Nathan glances at your crinkled eyebrows as you concentrate on your computer screen. A monotone voice gives instructions while you nod along to his words. Nate loved watching you work. Your hard working ethic, determination, and intelligence were some of his favorite qualities about you. The head of his cock ticks when you bite your lip subconsciously in solid focus.

It was also one of his turn-ons.

He strides over to you as you type swiftly on your keyboard. When you notice him, you roll your eyes at his nude appearance, continuing to type away. He sits beside you, glaring.

“What do you want, Nate?” You ask through clenched teeth. You can’t help but peer down at his struggling member, rosy head with dabbles of pre-cum leaking from it. If he wasn’t such a tease, you would get on your knees and suck him dry.

“Nothing. You know, I love watching you work. You look so sophisticated and smart,” Nathan compliments as his hand wanders toward your thighs. He massages them, your breath getting caught in your throat. Nate knew you loved being complimented, but especially when it had to do with your intelligence. He is ticking every box today.

He slides his fingers up until they’re touching your aching, clothed cunt. Your clit pulses sporadically, legs tensing when his fingers brush over it.

“What’s the matter, baby?” Nathan taunts with a devilish smile. Nate’s thumb pets your clit through your shorts, making you moan softly. You disregard your zoom meeting, your camera and microphone already off. Spreading your legs wider, he doesn’t speed up or stop, continuing to torture you by giving you little to nothing. “Are you all wet?”

You answer in a shuddery moan, focusing on the small touch. You’ve been so horny all day, even this is getting you off. Fists balling on the keyboard, his fingers brush the folds of your cunt, still covered by your shorts and panties. You gasp when he presses two fingers where your hole is as you clench around nothing but your own walls. Sliding your shorts down, he reveals your soaked panties, tsking at the sight. He yanks them down and off your legs. Being the dirty man he is, Nathan spits into his hand and wraps the fabric around his cock, stroking deliberately. Your own hand shoots straight to your clit and fondles it, desperate to be touched by him.

“Y/N, are you there? The meeting is over,” Your boss informs with a clipped tone. Your eyes drift to the forgotten screen, widening when you remember you’re still in the call.

“Don’t stop,” Nate demands through gritted teeth, powerful eyes piercing yours. Trembling, you continue to rub your clit as you unmute yourself.

“Y-yeah. Sorry, goodbye now,” You sputter out before slamming the laptop closed. Nathan groans while stroking his cock with your wet panties, making you clench around nothing.

“Rubbing yourself while working. Naughty girl,” Nathan tsks, dropping the underwear and lifting you up with a smirk. You both stand face to face with each other, aroused and desperate, yet neither will beg for it.

Caressing your face with his rough hands, Nathan pulls you in for a kiss. His tongue roams your mouth and his lips ignite a fire through your body. Your hands lock on his hips and squeeze his ass teasingly. He growls in your mouth, almost biting your tongue. Your fingers crawl up the nape of his neck, tugging at the short hair. Grunting, he slaps your ass playfully in return before breaking the kiss. You lift up your tank top and toss it across the room, abandoning it. He spins you around and bends you over so your rear is right against his front. You catch yourself with your hands planted on the ground, feet steadying you.

His bare length slots between your cheeks, soaked in your arousal. Nathan rocks back and forth without sliding in, so you push back against him in a silent plea.

“Fucking drenched,” He hisses, grabbing a handful of your soft skin until he’s holding your hips sturdy. “Didn’t know you were such a whore.”

“You’ve been—fuck— teasing me all day,” You moan as he ruts his cock against your fluttering folds. “Walking around naked? Who does that?”

“That’s not a nice way to talk to the person who’s determining if you’re coming tonight,” Nathan slaps your ass a little harsher this time, making you yelp and grind against him harder.

“Nate, please just fuck me already,” You plead as the blood begins to rush to your head.

“That’s more like it,” He spreads your cheeks and slams into you. Your arms almost collapse under the pressure, too weak for his brutal thrusts. His balls slap against your ass while he pounds mercilessly deeper and harder.

Rough, calloused hands grip your hips, forcing you to take all of his length. You can feel the ridges of his cock in your cunt as he hits new angles you’ve never experienced before. Wails and moans echo throughout the house as your limbs tremble with pleasure. Your vision becomes starry and your head starts to pound from being practically upside down. When the weakness of your arms causes you to crumble beneath your weight, Nathan sweeps you up before you could fall.

The blood rush melts away as his face comes into clear view. With ease, he rests you on the dining table near your forgotten laptop. His muscles bulk and flex with intensity as sweat begins to form on his skin. His chiseled core contracts with each impel, making you wetter and wetter. He thrusts back into you without warning, causing you to shriek.

“God, you’re so hot,” You whimper while squeezing his thick biceps, nails stabbing his flesh. Gutturally moaning, he seizes more brutal ruts into you, making your eyes roll back. He leans down to mark up your neck in tattooed kisses.

“What about me is so hot?” Nathan huffs mockingly into your neck, his warm and gravelly voice melting you entirely. He loved being praised, and seeing him so affected only spurred you to do it more.

“Y-your muscles. You’re so strong,” Pathetic moans pepper out of your throat, dry and squeaky from screaming. He growls, plunging savagely rough into your cunt at the compliment. Arousal surrounds his cock when you clench snuggly around him, milking him deliciously.

“Such a dirty girl. My dirty girl,” Nathan grunts while your breathing heaves. “Come now.”

Your pussy tightens around his length, unable to control the rapid bliss that hits you hard the second he permits. Your jaw drops in ecstasy, eyes screwed shut in undeniable pleasure.

“Look at me. Wanna see your gorgeous face.”

You attempt to open your eyes as your orgasm releases from you in silent cries. Core contracting and nails scratching, your back aches into his torso while he nibbles into your neck. White liquid pours out, legs shaking as you fall from the high. His pace slows as you feel the twitch of his cock inside your walls.

“Come in me. Please, baby,” Your croaked voice pleads him to the finish line.

“Mm, need me to fill you up? Need to be nice and full of my cum?” His hands spread your legs wider, rutting deep and slow into you when you moan in affirmation. His shaft spasms and his balls tense before he releases ropes of cum into your cunt. You whimper at the sensation, closing your eyes in euphoria. He pulls in and out, pushing all of his sperm far inside to make sure it’s all tucked in.

Nathan stares up at you as your hands slide up to his neck. A weary, blissed-out smile reflects on both of your faces as you lean in for a kiss. Your teeth clink from uncontrollable, cheeky smiles and your fingers intertwine in his chestnut hair.

“You were a bit of a tease today,” You bit your lip, pulling away, but keeping him close enough where you can feel his warm, heaving breath on your skin.

“You love it though,” An inviting smirk danced on his lips while a tinge of pink decorated his cheeks. He lowers his forehead to rest on yours, noses brushing cutely.

“Sadly, I do, Nathan Drake,” You hold back a goofy grin. “Sadly, I do.”

“Well, I hope you don’t say it like that at the wedding,” He chuckles and you gasp, swatting his chest playfully. You don’t want to act so surprised, but your eyes are shot wide.

“Do not mention wedding stuff! It’s only been… seven months!” With a pointed finger to his buff chest, he laughs it off with his hands raised defensively.

“But you’ve known me for ten!”

You were one hundred percent serious when you said you loved Nathan, you really did. But you never thought about a commitment until him. Not a serious one, that is. Although you two had a rocky start, he changed how you viewed the concept of relationships entirely. Your guard was constantly up, a barrier you created over the course of your life after being disappointed again and again. Nathan and you traveled various distances and battled challenges most people in their life will never face.

But he showed you that it was okay to live and to love because the risk of the fall doesn’t always end badly.

It wasn’t even directed toward you, just typical Nate inspiration, but that was a key quote you will forever remember. It was from your second (failed) mission together, when you were ‘stranded’ and waiting for Sully to ‘rescue’ you both (he just needed to bring the boat around). He opened up to you, like it was second nature to him. You envied how easy it seemed to pour your heart into a stranger who could possibly abandon you. But Nathan always had faith. And maybe his faith in you was right.

Maybe Nathan was the one who you’d say I do to.

You didn’t doubt him. You doubted you.

“I wouldn’t say it like that,” You whisper against his swollen lips, face blank with a million thoughts soaring behind your eyes.

“What?” His forehead crinkles in mild confusion while his hand caresses your jaw delicately. Curiosity and a hint of hope float within his irises, but it could just be your imagination.

“I would… be happy to say I do. I wouldn’t hesitate to say it. Well, I might, but only because I’d be nervous,” You heart thudded against your ribs and your palms began to feel clammy. You laugh awkwardly, anxiety infecting your body. “Why am I nervous now? I’m just imagining it— and now I’m rambling about nothing—”

“It’s not nothing, Y/N. I’ve imagined it, too,” Nate reassures with soft touches on your cheek, smoothing your hair over. “I pictured you in a long, white dress with an open back. Long, laced sleeves because I know you’d find that classic and elegant. You wouldn’t have a long train because you wouldn’t want to trip over it. I imagined that day to feel greater than any gold.”

Water glossed over your eyes as you fought back tears until you were swallowing thickly. You hadn’t expected him to have it all planned out. But again, Nathan always plans ahead. He’s always two steps in front of the average person. Another thing you loved about him.

You envisioned his description, finding only near-perfection in the way he thinks.

“Are you joking? Because I will find some creative ways to kill you—”

“I’ve never been more serious. Y/N, I knew from the first day we met that we had something. Whether we were partners, best friends, or dating, we were meant to be together. Don’t you think?” Both of his thumbs rub gentle circles across your supple cheeks, warm from the immense love circulated around you.

“I didn’t at first. Not like you did,” You smiled, remembering the awkward first encounter when Sully introduced you both. You were young and mischievous, and Nathan was also young, but also very trusting, which challenged your judgment. You didn’t even know of his existence a year ago, but ten months later and you feel like you’ve known him a lifetime. That’s got to count for something, right? “but now I understand that you’re right. We were destined to meet— Did you hear what I just said? Your sappy shit is influencing me!”

His beautiful, hearty laughter breaks the tension and pulls at your heartstrings when his skin crinkles to adjust to his expression.

“But you love me and my sappy shit, right?” He pecks your forehead, making you melt into a puddle right in the palm of his hand.

“Sadly, I do, Nathan Drake. Sadly, I do.”

—

hot??? cute??? hopefully :D

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[7:06 pm]

(cw: f!reader)

a/n: here’s our boyyyyyyy!

"Stop looking at me like that, I'm mad at you right now!" You yell at fratboy!Jaehyun.

"Baby, you look so pretty though. I'm admiring you," Jaehyun tells you softly.

In any other situation you would be a puddle on the floor with Jaehyun's affection. Usually his star-dazed look would have you squealing and peppering his face with kisses until you were both out of breath. It was one of your favorite ways he looked at you. He made you feel so loved. He had dug out a full body mirror and set up a little "getting ready" corner for you near the outlet by a window in his room. Yes, it was cute. It was so sweet of him. You had even gushed over it, peppering his face with kisses for a full minute before you sat down and started doing your makeup.

But today, today the puppy dog, heart eyes weren't going to work. The nu chi delta formal was today and Jaehyun had begged you to get ready with him at the frat house. So here you were, on time, thinking you had more than enough time to get ready.

You were busy blending the eye shadows on your eyelid, making sure they were well blended. You still had to do your hair, your base makeup, and get dressed. Thankfully you had an hour left to get ready. An hour to make sure you looked perfect for the frat formal.

A knock came from the door and Johnny's head popped in, "You guys gonna be ready in half an hour?"

The eye shadow brush dropped from your hand to the floor, "half and hour? As in 30 minutes? Three Zero?"

"Yeah we want to get there a little early to make sure everything looks good, but we were going to leave at 7:30 anyway."

You stood up, pacing around the room in a panic, running your hands through your hair, "Jaehyun! You told me 8:15, 8 at the earliest."

"The calendar on the fridge has said 7:30 since we secured the venue. Bro, we definitely need to be on time, we're officers for the frat," Johnny added with his brows furrowed in confusion.

"Baby, I'm sorry. I thought it was 8:30," Jaehyun apologized genuinely with his stupid, puppy dog eyes.

You stopped your pacing, holding your hand up in Jaehyun's direction, "stop talking, ok. I have to finish doing my make up and- oh my god I only have my eyes done and I still have to do my hair!"

You rushed back to the mirror and with shaky hands began to hurriedly doing your make up. Johnny sent Jaehyun a sheepish, apologetic smile while he slipped out. of the room.

You took a deep breath, calming your nerves, "Ok, I have an idea. You can leave without me and I'll Uber there."

Jaehyun's jaw dropped, "No way! I'm not letting my girlfriend show up alone. My girl can't show up alone! I'll help you, tell me how I can help."

"Do you know how to use a straightener?"

Jaehyun replied eagerly, "No, but I'll learn to help you. Just tell me what to do."

You walked him through the steps and soon enough, with slow, precise movements Jaehyun was running the flat iron through your hair.

"Five minutes! Limo's are getting here in five minutes!" Someone called out from the top of the stairs.

"Ok we're done. You did such a good job baby, thank you," you smiled at Jaehyun.

"You still have to get dressed and I need help with my bow tie," Jaehyun reminded you, pulling your dress off the hanger and handing it to you.

He helped you with the zipper on the back and helped clasp the straps on your heels. While you tied his bow tie he even spritzed you with perfume.

You both made your way down the stairs and out of the house, almost out of breath.

"Looking goo everybody. Now remember, I want everyone on their best behavior tonight. This is not a house party, it's a frat formal. Please behave yourselves or face the consequences," Taeyong told everyone as they stood on the lawn.

"Consequences being, sober men at the next party, bathroom clean up crew, and chefs for a week," Johnny added with a deviously sweet smile.

You moved to join the other officers and seniors in the "exclusive" limo, Jaehyun grabbed your arm gently, "just a second baby."

He stood in front of you and with gentle movements reached toward your eye with with pointer finger and thumb, "let me fix your eyelash for you."

His warm breath fanned over your face as he helped you fix your false eyelashes. He pulled away assessing his work before giving you a nod and a smile, "done. You look beautiful, baby."

Your face warmed at his compliment, "Thank you, love."

He leaned in slowly, pressing a short but lingering kiss to your lips so as to not mess up he make up he watched you stress over.

"No way! No! What part of best behavior do you not understand Jaehyun?! Get in the limo and don't let me catch that happen again or Taeyong is going to have to drag my fighting body out of the venue," Haechan screamed angrily from the sun roof in the second limo, an accusatory finger pointed at Jaehyun. His gaze softened as he turned to look at you, "You, you look gorgeous. Seriously, we are not worthy of being in your presence. When- and I really mean when, you get tired of that himbo, I'll be wai-"

His body went down quickly, like he was pulled down while someone yelled, "Sorry about him!"

Jaehyun rolled his eyes with a chuckle, a hand on the small of your back to guide you into the limousine, "Let's go, baby."

[souliebird]

[[and then I met you || ch. 10]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to protect his new family from not only Hell's Kitchen but from the world.

pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

Words: 4.2k

banner thanks to the wonderful @theradioactivespidergwen

When Minnie was six months old, you used to sleep on the couch so you wouldn't wake her up trying to get ready for bed. It would hurt your back - your couch was not very comfortable to sleep on - but you would sacrifice your comfort so she could sleep. No one in their right mind would wake a sleeping baby - even one that was always happy to go down for a nap. 

As your mind begins to stir, you become aware of the familiar ache in your lower back and the unfamiliar one pulsing around your eyes. Your hand slowly snakes up from where you had curled it against your chest and press your fingers along the bridge of your nose and up to the curve of your eyebrow, testing to see if the throbbing was sinus related. Nothing is triggered but your memories of the night before creep into your consciousness. 

Minnie with her tantrum and Matt with his amazing senses. 

You groan into the cushion as it all falls into place. Your eyes hurt from crying, not your sinuses, and you must have fallen asleep on the couch after your breakdown. 

Shame and embarrassment course through you. You hate crying and you hate that someone witnessed it. You can't imagine what he must think of you now - losing it like that. You should have been able to handle the news far better than you had and you're going to promptly apologize the next time you talk to him. You had acted so selfishly when it was clear he had control over the situation. 

But you don't have time to sit and wallow in your wretchedness - your daughter needs you to get up and be a capable adult, so you will your aching body to sit up. 

Your phone is sitting on the table in front of you, so you grab it to check the time. It's half past seven and your daughter has probably been awake for at least an hour. More shame courses through you - you always try to wake up before her so you can take care of her. You can only guess what state she is in. 

Your head spins as you stand, but you try to ignore it in favor of heading towards the bedroom. You prepare yourself to find a soiled bed - you didn't bother to change her into her night clothes and a pull-up and she is still mastering waking up when she needs to pee at night. 

The door is partially open and as you near it, you hear her tiny voice talking nonsense as she plays with something. You take a deep breath and push into the room, ready to face the start of your day.

Your mind short-circuits at what you encounter.

Both beds are clean and made, far tidier than you usually make them, and Minnie is sat on the floor with Scooby and some of her other stuffed animals, having what looks to be a tea party. To your absolute confusion, she is already dressed, and her hair has been put into pigtails with mismatched bows. You know for a fact she can't reach where you keep her hair supplies - you put them on a high shelf after she got into them to play salon before and managed to get her hair tangled so badly you had to cut things out. 

It doesn't even take her half a second to notice you and her little face breaks into the biggest smile, “Mommy!”

Still very much confused, you step forward to join the tea party circle and kneel down to be level with her. “Hi, sweetie,” you greet, trying your best to not alarm her. “Did you get dressed all by yourself?”

“Not-uh! Mister Matt helped! We watched lots of videos about hair and he made me pretty!”

You frown at that, “Mister Matt helped?” Had he stayed the night after you fell asleep? If so, where is he now? Your apartment isn't that big, and the bathroom door is open. Had he left before you woke up? You don’t like the idea of him leaving Minnie unsupervised.

Your daughter nods as she turns back to her toys, pretending to pour you a cup of tea and handing it over. You automatically pretend to take a sip.

“He helped make me pretty,” she confirms after putting her tea pot down, “now he's getting foods. Bagels!”

You turn the statement over in your mind - there is a bagel shop around the corner Minnie loves and if Matt is right about her also having enhanced abilities, maybe, just maybe, he didn't leave her unwatched. 

You bite your lip, then dare to push.

“Mouse, do you think you can tell me where Mister Matt is right now? Can you hear him?”

She doesn't acknowledge you right away, fussing with another piece of her tea set. You wait, allowing her to process what is being asked of her and watch as she slowly starts to move her head in minute movements, like she's tracking something. It's terrifying and fascinating to see a look of concentration come over her face and after about thirty seconds, she breaks into another big smile.

“He's talking to a frog!” 

“A frog..?” You ask, wondering if Matt was wrong about Minnie having heightened senses and she's playing pretend again.

“Yeah, he says…he says.. He's telling froggy he can't go to work. He's gonna stay with us!”

It clicks instantly. Matt isn't talking to a frog. He's talking to his business partner, Foggy Nelson, and as far as you know, Matt hasn't mentioned him or Karen yet by name to Minnie. 

“Can you tell where he is?” You ask again, being sure to be gentle with your question. 

“Outside,” is her response, like it is the most obvious thing in the world. “Froggies can't come inside. Do you want sugar?” She holds up her toy spoon and you offer her your tea cup.

“Yes, please.” 

She pretends to scoop sugar and you watch her in amazement. You are of course going to have to confirm that Matt was talking to Foggy, but it is so hard to believe your little one can hear that. You can't hear what is going on in your own living room, let alone outside your apartment. You cannot imagine how loud everything must be, how much input Mouse must be getting - but she doesn't seem bothered by it at all right now. 

She seems to be completely over her tantrum from yesterday and you want to ask her about it, but you aren't sure how or if she has the ability to express it. You know there are days you get overwhelmed and upset and you can't think of another way to explain it other than “too much”. You can't expect a three year old to articulate it better than you can. 

She's got a sweet little smile and part of you fears if you bring up her previous upset, it will spiral right back into a meltdown. So, you watch instead - watch as she goes back to playing make pretend with her toys, seemingly unbothered. You sip at your tea, making up a list of questions for Matt when he returns from his errand. 

Minnie plays for about five minutes before she perks up, beaming up at you, “Mister Matt asks if you can open the door, please thank you."

Her statement throws you for a moment and you aren't sure how much you like the idea of her being able to tell you all these things. It scares you - her knowing things you don't and not knowing what she does know. 

Maybe it is one of the things you and Matt can talk about - then talk about it with your sweet Mouse. You are going to have to get used to it, either way.

You push yourself into standing and motion for Minnie to come along. She scrambles up and runs out of the room, delighted laughter following her.

You are still in your clothes from the night before and you wish you had taken a moment to check your hair or even brush your teeth. You try to tell yourself it is fine, but your anxiety just argues back, and you feel like a complete slob by the time you get to the front door.

Your stomach and heart both do a funny clench at the sight of Matt, who is still sporting his borrowed shirt. You don't know if you want to fall into his arms or throw up or go hide under your covers so you can pretend all of this is a dream. Instead, you step aside so he can come inside and silently beg your mind to stop collapsing in on itself. 

“Breakfast delivery,” Matt says as a greeting, his entire face lighting up with a smile. He's holding a bag from the shop around the corner in one hand and a drink carrier with two large drinks along with a small one in his other.

You can feel your face starting to heat up and force your eyes down to the ground, mumbling, “you didn't need to do that.” 

He shrugs as he toes off his shoes, “I wanted to, and someone,” his voice turns teasing as he directs his next comments to Minnie, “wouldn't stop talking about bagels.”

Your daughter erupts into giggles, then turns and runs back towards the kitchen. Matt gives a pleased laugh, and your stomach flips again. He follows Minnie, and after you relock the door, you join them. 

They are sitting at the dining table, Mouse watching with a big smile as bagels are laid out on the table. Matt narrates for both of you, “Three egg bagels with plain cream cheese, two large coffees, and one kid’s hot chocolate. Now, is that the right order or was someone taking advantage?”

Minnie giggles more and that relaxes your shoulders. “No, that's right. Thank you, you really didn't -” You cut yourself off as you realize the table is clear of any mess from the night before. There are no plates on the table or in the sink, there's no lasagna stains on the floor, there's no leftovers sitting out. Your eyes drift to Matt. 

He must have cleaned after you had fallen asleep. Guilt courses through you - he shouldn't have to be dealing with your messes, especially in your own living space. You are going to need to not only apologize but return the favor somehow. You aren't sure how you'll do that - no one has ever done this much for you before, and Matt has done so so much in such a short time. 

You're dragged from your thoughts as a coffee is placed in front of you. 

“It's just black, I didn't know how you took it,” the kind, handsome lawyer says, and your heartbeat is so loud in your ears. It beats harder when you remember that not only can he hear your body and mind freaking out, but so can your daughter. 

Your instinct tells you to panic at the idea of someone knowing that much about you. You always try to stay calm on the outside while having a meltdown, but that doesn't matter with him. He'll know you're a mess. You can't hide it. 

You hear Matt ask Minnie something about her tea party and watch as she skips away from the table, but it's like your mind doesn't process it. You feel completely frozen because you don't know how to act - you don't know how to hide yourself from the man in front of you. You don't know how to hide yourself away from your daughter. 

How can you protect her from yourself? Your own body?

Suddenly, Matt is in front of you, cupping your cheeks with his large, warm hands and whispering your name. He's practically right on top of you, gently rubbing his thumbs over your skin, “Hey, hey, it's okay. It's okay. Everything is okay. Can you take a deep breath for me?”

“What?” You ask, so confused about what is going on. You don't understand why he's saying it's okay. 

“A deep breath, sweetheart. Can you take a deep breath?”

Your mind will not wrap the reason for the instruction, but you do as you are told. You inhale through your nose and that earns you a soft smile. He continues to pet you, gently instructing you to exhale after a moment and you obey. 

“Again?” He prompts and you nod. You feel shaky as you try to focus on breathing. You've always hated these exercises - they've never worked for you and have only served to frustrate you, and now you are just trying to make sure you are doing it right. How embarrassing would it be to fuck up breathing in front of Matt? 

“That's it,” he says so calmly, “Just breathe. I know it's a lot. I know. One step at a time. Let's have some breakfast, okay? Let's sit and have coffee and we can all talk. How's that sound?”

It sounds good, it sounds like the right thing to do, but your throat is clenching and not wanting to produce words, so you nod instead. 

You close your eyes to try to center yourself and somehow calm down. Matt lingers, keeping a hold of you until you hear Minnie coming back to the kitchen. It seems like he waits until the last possible moment before pulling away. 

Seeing your daughter looking so happy helps to reset your mind. She's fetched Scooby and Pig and runs up to the table to put them in their chair. You smile at the sight.

She really does seem like she's perfectly fine and maybe Matt is right and everything is okay. For now, at least. 

You force yourself into action, moving to set one of the bagels in front of Mouse, setting it on a napkin. You're going to need to transfer the hot chocolate into a mug or Mouse will spill on herself.

“Thank you, Mommy!”

She practically dives into her bagel, picking it up and taking a big bite and getting cream cheese on her cheeks. She is completely engrossed with her food.

“Thank Mister Matt, he got us breakfast,” you advise before going to get a napkin. While you are in the kitchen, you grab your creamer from the fridge.

“Thank you, Mister Matt!” she chimes before barreling on. “Mommy, did you know Mister Matt can braid hairs!”

Guilt courses through you and you remind yourself you need to thank Matt for everything he has done for you. But you tell yourself to not think of it right now - you are terrified of Minnie sensing your panic and that somehow shuts your mind down and you go into parent mode. 

“No, I didn't. Did you ask him to braid your hair?” You ask as you move in to wipe her face. She obediently tilts her face towards you and closes her eyes as you clean away the cream cheese. In the corner of your eye you see Matt sip from his coffee, a smile forming in his lips.

“She wanted puffs,” he advises, “I learned a lot of new hair terminology today. Minnie is a very good teacher.” 

Your daughter preens at the praise before taking another bite of her bagel. More cream cheese gets on her face. You decide to wait until she's done eating before tidying her up again. It will be pointless otherwise.

Instead, you start to fix your coffee, removing the lid to add creamer. You eye your daughter as you do, letting yourself finally take in her appearance. 

“You're a good stylist,” you tell Matt, and it is true. Her pigtails look even and as smooth as can be expected for a toddler. You don't see any tangles and if Minnie is happy, you have no grievances with the outcome - only guilt that Matt was the one who dealt with it. 

“I have some experience,” he hums, before taking another sip of his coffee. Then he directs his smile to his daughter, “my best friend used to have long hair. He has little nieces and they used to do his hair at Christmas, and I got roped into helping. I'm told I do a pretty good French braid.”

Mouse giggles before gasping and pointing at you, “do Mommy's hair!”

Embarrassment floods you - you don't think anyone has done your hair since you were Minnie’s age, and your current hair is a gross greasy mess and you don't want anyone touching it. 

Matt hums as he tilts his head towards you, “I think Mommy is better at doing her hair than I would be. But maybe next time?”

“Maybe next time,” you agree, hoping that will be enough to deter your daughter from this path. 

Luckily, she quickly parrots, “Next time!”

You offer her a smile and take a much needed drink of your coffee. It not only warms you but helps to ground you back into reality. 

You remind yourself nothing has actually changed - you are just more aware of the world. To Minnie, this is the same as any other day and you need to get yourself back on track. 

Which means you need to confirm some things with Matt. 

You set your coffee down, then pick up Minnie’s hot chocolate and bring it to the kitchen to transfer into one of her kid-friendly tumblers. You clear your throat, then dare to try, “Minnie said you'd be spending the day with us?”

“You told the froggy!” Mouse happily adds.

Matt looks confused for a few seconds before it must click, “Foggy, sweetheart, not Froggy. Foggy is my best friend - the one who had long hair.”

“Froggy!” Is the defiant response and you know better than to argue. Once something is named, the name sticks. But of course, Matt doesn't know this and you decide to let him learn.

“Foggy,” he tries. “Like a cloud. Not a frog.”

“Froggy!” 

“Fog. Foggy. No ‘r’.”

“Frog. Froggy! Froggy! Froggy!” Minnie bounces in her seat, starting to giggle. You return to the table, securing the lid to the sippy tumbler before placing it down.

“Ribbit ribbit,” you add and that gets you a delighted burst of laughter.

“Ribbit ribbit!”

Matt practically pouts but seems to realize he isn't going to win this. “But yes, I… told Foggy I wanted to spend the day with you. When I was in the phone, outside.” His dramatic sad face turns into something soft as he tilts his head towards Minnie, “Did you tell your Mommy you heard me?”

“I, uh, asked if she could,” you say, feeling silly for admitting it. But you know this is the path you need to take to start understanding what enhanced senses mean.

“I can hear everything,” your little one proudly says, and you've heard her say it before - but now you know she isn't just playing pretend.

“Yes, you can,” is Matt's soft reply. Unlike your underlying panic, his voice seems to carry a fondness about the whole situation. He is the one with the experience and you want to trust him with the lead on this, but it's still absolutely terrifying. 

But you know you need to set the ball up, so you gently push, “Did you know Mister Matt can also hear…everything?” You know it's not everything, at least by what Matt said, but you aren't going to get technical with a toddler. “Mommy can't, though. Mommy’s hearing isn't as good as yours and Mister Matt's.”

Mouse looks between the two of you, pursing her lips up as she thinks, then she reaches out and pats your arm comfortingly, “I'll tell you what I hears, Mommy.”

Your heart soars with so much love and you turn your hand so you can take hers and give it a gentle squeeze, “Thank you, baby.” 

“I can hears a bark-bark dog and a woofy dog,” she starts, “and there's a puppy going ‘yip-yip-yip!’”

Matt laughs a little and your focus is ripped away from Minnie and over to him. He absolutely beams at you, looking proud as can be. You wonder what this like for him - having someone else who can hear what he can.

“There's a doggy day care about two blocks north,” he informs, and it is so hard to wrap your mind around the fact your daughter can hear that far. “Clients are starting to arrive, and they are lively.”

There's a flash of brown and Minnie is waving Scooby at Matt, “Bark bark bark!”

“Is Scooby a barky dog?” He asks, leaning forward towards her and putting his elbows on the table. “Not a woofy dog?”

“Bark bark!” Is the response before Mouse makes him growl. You finally allow yourself to sit and watch the sweet interaction. Everything still feels like it's too much and swirling inside you, but seeing Matt and Minnie bond is soothing - even if it's over something you can't understand yet.

“What about Pig? Does he go bark-bark or woofy?” 

His question gets Minnie to gasp as if she's scandalized. “Pig isn't a doggy!”

“Oh, he isn't?” Matt teases, “I can't see him. What is he?”

“He's a piggy!” She snatches up Pig and clutches him to her chest beside Scooby. You hope she doesn't have cream cheese on her fingers because cleaning her toys is always an adventure. She hates when they have to get washed and now, you guess, you understand why. They probably smell different after being washed or the texture is off. It's something you'll have to explore later.

“What type of noises do piggies make?”

“Oink-oink-oink!”

“Oh, that makes sense,” he hums, then hunches forward more and lowers his voice, like he's talking in secret, “And what sounds do little girls named Minnie make?”

You finally get to take a bite of your bagel as you watch her contemplate the question. Her face screws up in thought before lighting up when she decides her answer.

“Ooogie-boogie-boo!” 

Matt throws his head back with laughter, which makes Minnie dissolve into happy giggles. The sheer joy between the two of them pulls a smile out of you and the heaviness in your chest starts to lighten more. 

“Ooogie-boogie-boo?” You question and your daughter giggles more. 

“Ooogie-boogie-boo! Like Scooby!”

You don't understand what that means but you just let the positivity continue. 

“What about Mommy? What sounds do I make?” You ask, curious what her response will be.

“Bumbum-bumbum.” They aren't words, but you instantly get it is supposed to be your heartbeat. You feel yourself start to flush. Matt had told you that Minnie listens to your heart to ground herself, so of course that is what she associates you with. But hearing it from her mouth and getting that confirmation still rocks you. 

“It's a good sound, isn't it?” Matt asks Minnie and you can imagine how red you are turning. You try to hide behind your coffee.

“The bestest,” Minnie agrees before adding, “After Scooby Song. Scooby Dooby Do! Where are you!”

“We've got some work to do now,” you half mumble, half sing with her.

“I've never heard the Scooby song,” the man beside you says and that triggers Mouse into action. She slides off her chair, and still clutching her toys, hurries across the room to the television. She knows how to bring up what she wants, so it only takes a few seconds before there is an episode starting to play on screen. 

She drops her toys and the remote before running back to Matt and tugging on his - technically yours - shirt. “You gotta listen!”

He barely gets to stand up before being pulled into the living room. He does not resist in the slightest to being directed to sit on the ground and you watch as Minnie begins to explain the intricate lore of her favorite show. To your wonder she describes each character by their voice first and you can tell Matt is completely enthralled by what he is being told. Scooby gets moved from laying on the floor to being shoved into Matt's lap so he can hold onto him. 

You realize without fanfare that you can barely hear the television. It is still on low volume from last time you had it on, and it dawns on you that you never really have it turned up too loud. Minnie can probably hear it just fine and doesn't need it blasting throughout the apartment. You never got to really watch television as a kid, and you wonder what the normal volume for watching things is supposed to be. 

You sip at your coffee, watching as Minnie plops herself next to Matt on the floor, going on excitedly about mysteries and different sounds. Both of them are smiling and laughing like they don't have a care in the world. 

This is what you want your life to be like, you decide. 

You want your family to be full of love and joy and you have fought so hard to get to this point. You've climbed your way out of a cold and distant household to make your own little corner in the world and right now you need to enjoy it instead of letting your mind be taken over by darkness and despair.

So, you set your coffee down and move to join your daughter and her father in front of the television, asking in a teasing voice, “So who is the blonde man again?”

tags:

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife 

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374

@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare @mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @hunnybelha @

Specialagentjackbauer @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets 

@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt  @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium 

@

two-unbeatable-beaters @kiwwia-wiwwia @1988-fiend @xblueriddlex @loves0phelia @ninacotte @lovelyygirl8 @littlenosoul @ednaaa-04  @ astridstark13

[slutt4ellie]

Hearts Over Hierarchy

Loser!Ellie x Popular!Reader

masterslist

PART 2 // PART 3 // PART 4

Do opposites really attract?

Summery : When you run into a girl who rarely makes acknowledgment she even exists, there’s something that undoubtedly draws you to her..and a spark is created.

Warnings -> / Weed usage / Reader is confused about her feelings? / Ellie’s also confused about her feelings (ig?) / Just full loser Ellie / Really brief Skater!Ellie / eventual smut (probably) / fluff / tension / Little bits of smau / Toxic friendship / (Lmk if I missed anything else!)

WC: 4.8k (longest fic i’ve ever wrote!)

(Not proofread!)

DAILY CLICK 🇵🇸 - (takes like 2 seconds 🩷)

(Ellie)

The loud buzzing of Ellie’s alarm shoots her eyes open and her body halfway up. “F-fuck” She grumbles under her muffled voice. Running her right hand down her face.

Ellie grabs the alarm rested on her left bedside table and she’s finally met with the time 9:36am. “Oh fuck” Ellie says quickly stands up out of her single bed, planted in the corner of her single bedroom dorm. Classes start at 9:45. She has a total of 9 minutes to get dressed, leave her dorm, and run onto campus. Which has her leading to the fact there’s almost 0 fucking way she’s making it on time.

Since Ellie’s already up and out of her bed she runs to her dresser to throw on a pair of boxers and a sports bra which is almost instantly covered by “clean” sweat pants and a nike hoodie. It didn’t smell bad so it was fine!

4 minutes, it only took Ellie 4 minutes to get changed and grabbed her skateboard. She also glances over at the time as it now reads now reads 9:40. So this means her time isn’t “horrible” I mean getting ready in 4 minutes is sorta impressive, at least in her mind? Plus campus shouldn’t take that long, as long as she’s fast.

Ellie grabs her skateboard and leaves her dorm quickly running down the stairs, having basically 0 time to wait around and sit there like a duck for the elevator. And as soon as she’s met with concrete she’s off.

The reason why Ellie being late is such a fucking hassle is because she’s already been late a fair share of times building a reputation for it, when she walks into class and shit it doesn’t go without dirty looks. But it’s a new school year, so she’s tryna live by the corny ass saying “new year new me!” and actually not miss half the classes like last term.

(You)

You’re up early, 8:00 to be exact. You quietly leave your bedroom trying not to wake up the rest of your sorority sisters as you tiptoe through the halls. And just as you thought you were clear, a pair of blue eyes are met with yours.

Emily your best friend since freshman year. You two were like glue through high school, nothing could separate the two of you, sure you had fights and disagreements but nothing seemed like it could break the bond between you two..

As you meet her blue eyes you quickly notice her lips turning into a light smirk. “Why the fuck are you tiptoeing like we’re in a fucking Tom and Jerry episode?” You let out a pity laugh and smile “Oh ha ha…! Maybe because i’m nice and I didn’t wanna wake up all you guys?”

Emily smiles right back at you. “Why are you up so fucking early, thought your class started at 9:45?” You nod your head agreeing with her statement. “It does. I just wanted to be on top of it you know!” Emily shakes her head. “No I don’t fucking know? I don’t wake up a full hour and 45 minutes before my classes.”

You smile, you could ask her why she’s up but you already know her class starts at 8:30 (ew.) so going through more questions seems unethical. “Well!” You trail off then pick back up where you ended. “I need to have a shower sooo” Emily nods and goes back to her room “Yeah yeah!”

꧁✵★✵꧂

The steam fills your bathroom and the air is still warm from your lingering shower.

It was weird today. You don’t usually feel nervous for school, I mean you knew people, people knew you. There was literally nothing for you to feel even the slightest bit of tenseness. Yet it was still just there.?

Your just blaming it on basic nerves, you’re not really “excited” to get back into the grove of school, get a ton of work in before due dates which are are way to fucking fast. But either way you knew you had to suck it up so you pushed yourself out those doors and into your car.

Right on time 9:30. It should only take 10 minutes to drive onto campus and that leaves you with about 5 minutes before the lecture starts. At least that’s what you fucking planned.

But just to your luck. There was an incident, nothing serious. Just ending up backing up the roads. And any fucking other day you wouldn’t have really cared. But you really could not afford to be late on your first day back. You wanted to make sure you’re on top of everything, and the walk of shame into the classroom is probably one of the worst things person could every fucking experience.

Once you make it on campus you speed walk through the halls cutting through people just trying to get to your door. Then everything will be fine and normal, you won’t have to worry about how stup-

A hard thud goes straight into your back

You heard about 3 things fall flat on the ground none of the things being yours. And as shitty as it seems, you were genuinely considering walking away just to get to fucking class..

You’re not a complete dick and you were raised better. So this leads you to reluctantly turn around and your met with? Well you don’t exactly know, she looks familiar but maybe she’s a year younger so you don’t often see her. She has brunet- no, auburn hair, green eyes, and freckles that go all around her face. She looks familiar but you can’t put your finger on it.

You look down and notice a binder, a now slightly cracked phone and skateboard which finally you make the decision to crouch down. The auburn hair girl is mumbling a bunch of sorry’s “F-fuck that’s on me. I-i’m like super late? So I was looking down and sh-“ You cut her off and shake your head picking up her phone and binder as she picks up her skateboard. “You’re good..Fuck I’m late too.” You chuckle looking at her as you stand up, quickly handing her the items she dropped on the ground.

You give out your hand to shake “I’m-“ and as your about to say your name, you’re cut off by her voice “N-no I know you, you sat in front of me last term” You don’t know what really led you to say the next part but what else were you going to say?? You didn’t notice her once, lying seemed like a better approach. “Right! Um what was it…A- no H?” You notices how her eyebrows furrow, the fact you definitely don’t know her name is becoming apparent.

“I-uh Ellie” She shakes your hand.

“Yeah! I was getting there!” You smile looking back at her before talking again.

“We’re you?” She tilts her head talking in a tone laced with a joking sound..just from her demeanour alone you can tell she was kidding.

“I was..” You shift your gaze down to her lips then back up. You weren’t trying to be weird or anything, you just did it on instinct which now on the contrary seems a tad bit creepy since this is literally your first time even talking to her.

Once you meet her eyes again you nervously cleared your throat and starting talking once again. “Well what room are you!”

Ellie notices the quick change of subject and she nervously shakes her head “U-uhh fuck 217 I think…?” You nod and look at her “Fuck, okay shit me too?” Your voice stops then picks back up “Want to walk?”

Ellie perks up and nods. It kept playing in the back of her mind why the fuck you were talking to her. Ellie wasn’t popular, not your level of popularity. Everyone knew you. So the fact you were standing in front of her, talking to her. She was almost confused. Yet she wasn’t complaining..

It only took a few minutes before you reached the classroom door, as you check your phone you see you’re a bit late. Nothing to complain about, it’s only 9:47 so who cares..?

When opening the doors your eyes lock with the seats in the back left corner, there open, and no one is sitting in them. You look at Ellie who seems nervous.

Little do you know in her mind she’s wondering where the fuck she’s going to sit.

The only single seats are in the middle of like 5 fucking people.

Once you notices her eyes are scanning the room and her whole face is plastered with a nervous expression you nudge her lightly.

“Wanna sit over there” You point your finger and her eyes quickly follow it.

She seems confused. Like her brain just did a 360 but she stutters over her words when talking back to you. “Y-you wanna s-sit together?”

“Yeah?” You smile and let out a chuckle.

“R-right! Yeah- Yeah we can sit over there.” She smiles and nods looking at you.

As you sit down your phone buzzes in your left pocket not wasting much time to pull it out. There’s one message Emily. Asking if you made it okay and stuff. Which leads to a mini conversation.

You couldn’t help but feel almost icked out? Emily’s not usually rude so her response was weird, and out of character. You wanted to believe maybe she was making a statement or something but you replied regardless.

She was being so strange, like not her usual self. Which lead your eyebrows to furrow and you were abo-

“You okay?” Ellie’s voice says softly probably noticing the fact your eyebrows are furrowed and your face now showing clear signs of annoyance.

“O-oh yeah!” you reply now embarrassed as you feel blood rush to your cheeks. “Just one of my friends, i’m good though!”

Ellie nods and smiles. “Okay, just wanted to make sure?”

You haven’t really met anyone like Ellie. I guess other then Emily? But it still took months to feel comfortable with her. With Ellie it seems almost easy? Like fast?

Your whole friend group is popular. Which wasn’t horrible? The benefits of being popular is nice? Sorta.. But unfortunately half of your “friend group” is fake.

Talking behind peoples back kinda fake.

You tried not to let it bug you though, you had people in your friend group you obviously loved, so you would just stick in that crowd.

But there was always some anxiety which came with it. Like you didn’t know if things you said would get passed around, so when talking to Ellie, knowing nothing had the chance of somehow going to anyone, else it was refreshing.

The class was finally fucking over and you packed up your laptop and papers.

As you were about to leave you said a quick bye to Ellie trying to be respectful. You didn’t wanna ask for her number because you didn’t want to come across as weird, you two just met? So that could wait?

As you turned around there was a quick “wait!” which was clearly from Ellie.

You just turned around trying to read her expression but as you were she cut off your train of thought. “C-can I uh get your number! I was thinking we could maybe study or something. This math s-shit is like kicking my ass” After her sentence there was a dry awkward chuckle. The fact you didn’t immediately respond worried her

Did she come off as weird?

To pushy?

You’re popular why the fuck-

“Yeah!” You smile walking back over to her.

“Are you busy right now? We can go back to my place and study if you want” You say not breaking eye contact.

Ellie quickly breaks the eye contact handing you her phone before she clears her throat. “W-no! no i’m not busy, right now is good actually” Her voice cracks in the middle of the sentence leading her to clear her throat once again.

You grab her slightly cracked phone and nod..

“K cool, it’s not a long drive and my cars out in the front lot.”

In a car

With you.

Great!

꧁✵★✵꧂

Saying the car ride is awkward is an understatement? Reason number one, you don’t know what to say because you literally just met Ellie.

I mean you’re alright on small talk but what the fuck do you say to someone you met a solid 2 hours ago?

And on the other hand Ellie is Ellie.

She can’t pick up on small talk for the life of her. So when you finally speak it almost feels like a blessing and a curse.

“Sorry about you phone?” You say, both hands still on the steering wheel as you drive.

“Huh?” Fuck this is awkward.

“Your phone, it’s cracked. Sorry?” You say a smile cracking.

“I ran head first into your bag I’m pretty sure that’s on me” Ellie chuckles looking at you as you drive.

“I guess, but maybe if I was walking faster it wouldn’t have happened!” You say glancing over at her before you turn your eyes back to the road.

Ellie’s face turns a light pink as soon as you made split eye contact with her. She’s silently now thanking ever fucking god in the universe that you turned your head before you could notice.

“Maybe but I think that was a sign I shouldn’t walk with my head down” Ellie let’s out a slight laugh.

The silence falls once again neither of you knowing what to says.

“D-“

“Sor-“

Both of speak at the same time a dry chuckle coming from both your lips.

“You go.” Ellie says nodding.

“I was just going to say sorry for not noticing you?” You say clearing your throat anxiously.

“What do you mean?” Ellie says tilting her head still looking at your side profile.

“Like- I sat in front of you for months you know?.. just the fact I didn’t noticed you makes me feel like an egotistical prick?” You say rubbing the back of your neck with your left hand.

Ellie shakes her head at your response. “No! Fuck I barley talked, trust me, you not noticing doesn’t make me have hard feelings” Ellie says quickly, she doesn’t want you to feel guilty for anything.

You just smile at her response and nod. “What we’re you going to say?” She quickly talks “Just gonna ask do you get what the fuck is going on in class”

You quickly laugh and shake your head “Fuck no! I’m actually so ass at math your gonna have to walk me through it.” Ellie smiles and nods. “What makes you think i’m gonna be good at it!” She says with a chuckle.

“Well you have to be good at it because we’re official study partners!” You say before nodding your head. “Official??” Ellie smiles

“Oh yeah, official” You nod and continue nervously. “We’re uh here!” You park the car in front of your sorority.

“I never been to a fucking sorority” Ellie says getting out of the car with her backpack in hand. “No?” You say looking at her. “Nah” She shakes her head “They feel cult-ish?” She laughs causing you to smile and look at her “So you’re joining my cult then?”

“Guess soo” She drags out her ‘so’ dramatically before walking to the two big white doors which leads into the sorority house.

You and Ellie studied for a few hours. Looking outside the sky was now dark. Rather then the bright blue it shined before.

You guys studying was basically just an excuse to talk, you got to know a lot about each other. Ellie opened up to you, you opened up to her.

You haven’t ever had a friendship where you got so comfortable so fast. It’s like the fact you guys met a solid few hours ago, it was completely disregarded. It’s like you connected so fucking fast.

You learned Ellie had two close friends Dina and Jesse. They didn’t go to the same school as you and her, instead they went to one about 30 minutes out. You “learned” she’s painfully shy, which you already got the message as soon as she ran into you.

She let it slip she actually debated talking to you last term but you seemed extremely intimidating which you laughed at. But she was standing her ground, saying like you gave off a bit of scary vibes.

“Okay scary?” You replied laughing

“Scary!” She says looking at you. Both of your guys studying papers are far from filled out, almost completely empty. But to be fair that’s the last thing on your mind.

“I need one fucking example from when I was being ‘scary’” You say defensively looking at her. The two of you are crisscrossed on your queen bed a bit to close considering how much space the both of you had. Both of your knees touching.

“K well- I don’t have a fucking time list of all the times I thought you seemed scary!” Ellie says shaking her head looking at you.

Your hand instinctively falls on her knee “I’m asking for ONE example!” You made sure to emphasize the word one. To point out it was really fucking easy.

Ellie’s whole face heats up and she feels like her body’s on fire causing her to stutter over almost ever other word “I-I d-don’t know l-like one t-time I heard you talking about h-how you were ‘gonna murder him’” She says chuckling to mask the nervousness that’s coursing through her veins.

You try to recall when you said this, it suddenly clicking “Okay wait! No there’s context!” You chuckle and now both of you are closer. It’s like each time a sentence is said, you’re moving further in.

“What fucking context could there be!” Ellie spits out laughing, which causes you to laugh harder.

“I was talking about some dick who used one of my friends!” You laugh your head falling onto Ellie’s shoulder.

“I guess that’s fair?” Ellie’s voice gets quieter. You can her heart beat which to say it’s fast. That’s would be an understatement.

You pull your head off her shoulder and look at her. Her face is pretty pink and you feel like you can ever little detail that revolves around her face. One thing about seeing ever detail, it had a result of your faces being mere inches from each others.

You don’t even know what the fuck led you to do this but you slowly guided your left hand to cuff Ellie’s cheek which now has the both of you to instinctively lean in.

Ellie does the same, manly following your lead as her hand also goes onto your cheek and now your noses brush against each other.

And just as your lips were about to touch a knock hits right against your door.

You and Ellie both quickly flinch back clearing your throat nervously.

You get up faster then her and the person behind the door is no other then Emily. You hadn’t texted her since the whole weird ass messages she sent a few hours ago.

Ellie’s thoughts are now going all over the place. Because you two almost just kissed, a knock breaks it up..and now there’s a girl who in her mind, is way better looking!

Ellie doesn’t wanna think it, but the fact you might have a girlfriend is lurking in the back of her mind. She wouldn’t be surprised to say the least.

“Hey” Emily says eyeing Ellie who is now putting her papers back into her backpack nervously, her hands fumbling over each sheet..

“Hi..?” You say looking at Emily. She’s eyeing Ellie with a look you haven’t noticed before. And as you were going to say something along the lines of “Do you need something” but Emily’s voice talks over your thoughts.

“Can we talk” She says now meeting your eyes.

“I mean I have someone ove-“ But before you can finish your sentence Ellie intervenes. “It’s- It’s fine i’m heading out anyway. You know it’s dark..? So?”

“I- uh, alright. You want me to drive you?” You say looking at Ellie which she almost instantly shakes her head “I’m not tryna be a burden i’ll just skate back, my dorms on campus…so i’ll uh, i’ll be chill..” Ellie says grabbing her skateboard which was planted in your room. Right after Ellie grabs her skateboard she already is almost out of the door. But you quickly talk.

“Just text me when you get to your dorm, so I know you got back safe and shit.” You say softly.

And just like that she’s gone, and your standing awkwardly in a room with Emily. When the front door finally shuts she got the sudden urge to talk. “Ellie?”

You nod confused. “Uh- yeah..? We were just studying…”

Emily nods looking at you. “Why though?”

“Sorry..?” You say now even more confused then you were previously.

“Like why hang out with her?” Emily says looking at you.

You think she’s joking so you laugh sarcastically “Fuck off?”

“I’m being for real, Williams, she’s like weird dude... That’s literally all anyone talked about when she was in my class.” Emily now chuckles and you shake your head.

“She’s not even weird?” You say defensively. “Have you talked to her?”

Emily shakes her head fast “I don’t wanna fucking talk to her?? Like I said she’s weird.”

You’ve never seen Emily act so blatantly rude, like she had her own opinions but she knew whether or not she should announce them. Plus! She’s never even met Ellie yet she’s judging her so easily with no second thought. You tried to push it behind you, trying to end the conversation with a quick “I gotta go to bed so. We can talk later.”

Emily scoffs “Great! Now you’re fucking being weird!”

“Im not even being weird! You’re just being rude, i’m not gonna listen you talk shit about someone you haven’t even had a conversation with!”

Emily just shakes her head “I’m hardly talking shit shit. I’m just saying what I heard, fuck.” The fact she’s trying to justify her shitty behaviour and actions just makes you more annoyed.

“K great talk Emily. I gotta get sleep” You say before shutting the door with a hard slam as Emily gets out of your room.

It’s been a few weeks since that whole situation, Emily’s been okay? She apologized and shit but everything is still a bit tense?.. Like she lets out mini sighs when you say your going to hang out with Ellie.

You assumed this was because maybe she felt left out, but every time you even attempted to ask her she always shook her head and replied with “Eh sorta busy with homework”

So you dropped in, she was clearly going through some weird ass phase with you new friendship and you just wanted her to push through with it. You didn’t feel like guiding Emily through it all.

And then on the other hand

Ellie

neither of you mentioned what happened in your room that night, or what almost happened? It wasn’t relevant, some friends almost kiss! You two almost kissed…? And it was nothing important.

Not something to jeopardize your new friendship. So you dropped it. And you internally prayed she would too.

Ellie on the other hand. She was thinking about the moment constantly, like it was a virus infiltrating every single free fucking thought she had. She doesn’t know if the blue eyed girl was your girlfriend, but at the end of the day she didn’t wanna push the subject. You hadn’t talked about it so it wasn’t something she was willing to bring up. Seemed better to drop it!

And here you are, laying down on your bed extremely bored with nothing to fucking do. Your mind was just wondering, thinking about class, school, Elli-

There’s buzzing coming from your bedside table and you quickly grab you phone.

Ellie.

You laughed at your phone. Ellie’s jokes were actually so bad it made them funny. You kept texting her no plan of stopping, but then she tells you she has a little something!

You smile at her messages quickly following up by closing your phone. You didn’t waste time to grab you car keys quickly leaving your sorority house.

꧁✵★✵꧂

The car ride wasn’t all that bad, it was nice knowing that you’ll get to be with Ellie again. Plus it was literally only 10 minutes so when you get there you quickly park and rush to the campus dorms.

As you go into the building you take the left to the elevators, shortly entering before you click floor 2.

As it stops and the doors open and you lead yourself to Ellie’s dorm which you’ve now been in a few times.

After knocking it literally doesn’t take long before she answers..her hairs messy, a few strands down her face and she gives you a quick smile. One thing you instantly noticed was the strong scent of weed that exits her room. “You’ve been busy” you say sarcastically giving her a quick smile.

Her eyes are red and she’s clearly faded. “Soooo busy!” She says sarcastically before it’s followed by yet another smile.

You go into her room and sit on her little single bed that’s planted right in the corner of her bedroom.

She passes you an already lit joint which you take a drag from.

“I wanna ask you something?” Ellie says as she takes the joint back.

You nod letting out a short “hm?”

“You obviously don’t have to say yes” she starts dragging her words a mix of nervousness and being high.

“Okay..?” You say nodding, you don’t know what she’s gonna ask but either way you’re nervous.

“Jesse and Dina, they rent cabin every year. And like my not tryna really third wheel so I was wondering…if maybe like-?” Ellie says shifting her gaze down into her lap.

“When is it?” You ask looking at her.

Ellie’s almost surprised you didn’t immediately turn it down so she quickly clears her throat. “Fuck sorry- It’s in a week. You don’t have to com-“

“Yeah I’ll come?” You say, the high now finally clicking in. Ellie’s heart is skipping right now but she quickly pushes it down.

You two are fucking friends. Just friends.

“Sick. O-okay cool. I’ll just like text you everything you’ll need and shit. And it’s like an hour drive so me, you, Jesse and Dina can all just like fucking drive together.”

“Okay cool!” You smile.

You and Ellie. Are going to a cabin together.

Nothing to be nervous about…!

—————��—————————————

A/N -> Hii! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I already have a full plot layout for the second one.

This might only be two parts simply because I might be able to fit everything I want with enough detail in just a singular part.

I plan on adding some angst in the next chapter ☹️ (so ig be ready for that!)

I also wanna really emphasize Emily is not homophobic! 😭

I was reading some of this chapter and it sorta seemed implied she was at least a little homophobic, calling Ellie “Weird” and shit, but it’s not because Ellie gay! I’m pretty sure most people might be able to clue on why she’s not to fond of Reader and Ellie’s ‘friendship’ but that’ll be for the next chapter.

I hope you enjoyed!

Taglist : @bready101 @onlinelesbo @amberputh @seraphicsentences @a-little-bit-of-everybody @zoehxnji @cyb3rd0nguh @graviewaviee

[wild-typo-turtle]

Threads - Part 9

Explicit (slow burn, 18+ only) - Rings of Power - Gil-galad x OFC (Elf)

Includes S2E8 of Rings of Power - spoilers ahoy!

Gil-galad had only taken a handful of steps when his gaze passed over yet another collapsed building. From the looks of things, it had once been an open, airy shop that had faced directly into the plaza. The roof had caved in, creating dusty shadows, and even his keen eyes might have missed the slumped figure had he not heard the tiny whimper from the darkness.

Eregion has been destroyed; Sauron is gone. And yet, the sun still shines, as the ruined city holds the last thing that High King Gil-galad had ever expected to find.

Themes: #Idiots in love, #love at first sight, #soulmates, #smut with feelings, #fix-it, #everybody lives

Content Warnings: Explicit content eventually (slow burn), canon-typical violence; loss of parents; grief/mourning

Tag List: @morganas-pendragons, @stellar-solar-flare, @the141bandicoot; @inyx-writes44, @melmel-fandom, @hufflepufferine

Dreamcasting: Keri Russell as Linnea

Part 1 (includes A/N and credits), Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Content Notes for Part 9: Here there be smut! Yes, we've finally gotten there. Please do not read this chapter if you do not care for smut (my style runs on the M side of E, but there's details), or if you are not at least 18+.

Part 9

There was no change to how Lavan and Pendes carried out their duties, once they arrived. They were as calm and efficient as ever: Pendes prepared the wash basin for Linnea to clean her face and her hands, and while she washed, Lavan laid out her nightclothes and her robe. 

The preparations had put a temporary wall in front of her grief. But it was flimsy, barely a few sticks tossed together. Soon enough, it would break again - and everything seemed to make that heap of sticks shudder. Even the lavender petals that floated in the bowl of hot water reminded her of Lhenes, of how it had been one of her mother’s favorite flowers.

Her eyes prickled as she dried her face. But as that wall threatened to burst open, she felt a gentle warmth in her chest, as if someone had lit a candle in her very heart. 

And there was a soft whisper at the back of her thoughts, and this time she knew she was not imagining it.

I am here, melethel.    

It was enough. At least for the moment.

Once she had washed and changed, Linnea settled back down at her dressing table, and Pendes quickly removed her hair ornaments and the thin silver circlet she had worn that day. She stared at herself in the mirror as Pendes drew a wide-toothed comb through her hair and then deftly re-braided the top. Lavan’s choices in what she had laid out betrayed no assumptions; the nightgown was creamy silk, it was true, but the cut was simple and modest. And the nightrobe was the same deep green silk as she usually wore. Nothing to imply that she would not be going to her own bed that night.

Come to me when you are ready.

It seemed she was, as Pendes finished with the braid and stepped back. Lavan had been moving through the other parts of Linnea’s rooms, straightening and tidying; since Linnea had been out most of the day, there was little to do, and she had finished at the same time as Pendes.  

“Should we arrive at the usual time tomorrow morning, my lady?”

It was Lavan who had spoken. Her head was tilted down towards the floor; even had she not been veiled, Linnea would not have been able to see her expression. 

She thought quickly about how to answer. Ereinion typically rose before she did; he had been maintaining his habit of taking an hour in the morning for contemplation, settling his spirit before facing the day. By the time she usually awoke, he had already been up for quite some time.  

“Yes,” she replied. “The King rises early. I will be ready for you at the normal hour.”  

“Very good, Your Grace. Is there anything else you require?”

“No thank you,” she said softly. “You may go.”

They bowed and left, and the rooms went quiet.

She knew she had no reason to be nervous. Nothing was going to happen that night - nothing except what Ereinion had offered her. Let me ease your pain. But she was going to him; she would sleep in his arms. She would know what it meant to share his bed, to wake with him next to her. The intimacy still to come, their wedding night when they would lie together, seemed to almost pale in comparison. 

Almost.

Linnea rose to her feet, moving slowly out into the main room. Would he be ready for her? Should she give him a few more moments of privacy? He had come to her straight from the council meeting, or so it had appeared. Would he want more time to himself?

But she knew how she would feel, had she been waiting for him. She would not have been able to think of anything else.

She bit her lip, trying to settle the butterflies in her stomach as she approached the door, and opened it with a hand that trembled. The guards had changed when she had returned from the city, and it was Laebel and Natthor on duty that night outside her rooms.

“Good evening,” she said, working hard to keep her voice steady. “I will be going up to the King’s rooms now.” 

She had taken long enough.

Ereinion had changed too, and was standing by the fireplace as she stepped off the staircase. There was a goblet of wine in his hand, and another sitting full on the table next to the hearth - but she barely noticed. 

No crown, his hair loose over his shoulders. Beautiful hair was a point of pride among their people, and she hadn’t ever failed to appreciate how blessed he was. His feet were bare like her own, peeking out from the hem of a long, pale gold nightrobe. Above the edges of the robe, she could see the collar of a silk shirt, an even lighter gold, buttoned just at the base of his throat with a star-shaped pearl clasp. Other than the pearl, and the two rings on his right hand, he was without adornment.

But he was enough, all on his own. Any jewels would have been outshone, as pale dewdrops placed next to the brightest of diamonds.

“Meleth nín,” she breathed. 

The glass in his hands wobbled slightly, the liquid in it giving the tiniest slosh, as his eyes landed on her. He smiled - but she could see he was nervous too, and it helped those butterflies calm down, helped her hands steady.

But he didn’t speak, and she searched his face as she walked to him. As she drew closer, she could see that his hand was tight on the stem of the goblet he held.

“What is it?” 

Ereinion’s smile widened, just the smallest bit. But at the same time, he closed his eyes, shaking his head softly.

“I would tell you that you are beautiful,” he murmured. “But there are no words that are adequate for that. And so I can only marvel at you, melethel, and thank the Valar for what they have given us.” 

It was Linnea’s turn to smile, her turn to close her eyes. He was never shy with his compliments, and she was still growing accustomed to it - the sheer volume of the love that he had to give. She reached up, running her fingers through the hair that hung over his shoulder; dark silk, as dark as the night sky, and just as velvety soft. 

“I thank them every moment,” she said softly. “For you are just as beautiful. In body and spirit alike.”

He leaned down for a kiss then. It was a soft kiss, and it did not last for long, but it was one of the most tender that she could remember ever sharing. It did not push the grief back - he knew better than that. Instead, love sat side by side with sorrow, much as he had sat next to her on the floor in her rooms. 

When their lips parted, he stroked the back of his hand down her cheek. “Come,” he murmured. “There is food if you are hungry. And then we shall have our tea, and then I will hold you for as long as you may need me to.”

She wasn’t sure about the food part. But as she turned towards the dining room, Ereinion’s hand moving to the small of her back, she could smell vegetable stew, and it did smell good. And perhaps she could be tempted into eating.      

Linnea had found the cups several weeks ago, in a district full of potters and glassblowers. She had wanted something special for their evening tea, something that spoke to the shared time just as much as the tea itself did. And they had been beautiful, sitting on the shelf in the cool, quiet workshop.

The color had drained from Ereinion’s face when he had seen them.  

He hadn’t said anything to explain, simply complimenting her on the choice. But his reaction had stuck in her mind, and as they sat together by the fire after eating, waiting for the tea to cool enough to drink, she finally decided to ask. 

“What was it about these that shocked you so?”

Ereinion didn’t reply right away, turning the cup back and forth in his hands and watching it move. The porcelain was painted white, with just a hint of grey, calling forth the bark of the Great Tree. And to further the likeness, there were golden leaves painted on top of the white, subtle and faint brushstrokes lending themselves to the feeling that the leaves were slowly drifting down from the top of the cup to the bottom.

She waited, letting him decide whether to tell her. Part of her still felt as fragile as the porcelain she held, but at the same time, having her belly full was helping anchor her to the here and now as opposed to being drawn into her memories. As was the peace of Ereinion’s rooms; the lanterns that hung from the ceiling were lit, but they gave a gentle, warm light, casting a softness over everything.  

Finally he raised his head, meeting her eyes.

“I have told you that the rings grant foresight,” he murmured. “But what I did not share with you - out of fear, perhaps, that it would be too much for you - was the vision I was given when first we met.”

Linnea nodded. He had indeed shared it with her that he had had glimpses of what had come to pass at Eregion: the mountain crumbling, the Glanduin running dry. It grieved him, she knew, that he had not understood what he had seen - but how could he have? What warning could he have drawn from such things?    

“It was that night, at your fire,” he said. “You offered me some of the tea. I smelled it, and suddenly I was seeing the future.” He paused. “Our future. We were here, in these rooms. It was winter. I was at my desk; you lay by the fire. It was clearer than any sight I have had from the ring, before or since. And when you called me, I came to you, and our tea was in these very cups.” 

She couldn’t help but smile, picturing it. It sounded peaceful, and more - it sounded like what he needed. An island of calm, in the storms that they knew were coming.

But something he had said made her curious. The chairs that circled the hearth were comfortable, certainly, but they were chairs, not chaises of any sort where one could recline.     

“I lay by the fire?”

His eyes dropped back to the cup, and he - his face - was he blushing?

“I had it made for you,” he said, speaking to the tea. “I felt that when I saw it. A lounging chair, so that you could relax with ease. While you - you - while you carried our child.” 

Our child.

“I was with child? In what you saw?”

He nodded, still not looking at her. “I do not know how far ahead it lies along the path of our future,” he murmured. “Nor even if such a vision can be trusted. But it was so clear to me, melethel  - I could feel it. I touched you and I could feel our child reaching out for me.”

Her eyes burned hot, prickling with fresh tears. She had thought of it, yes - and they had spoken of it, enough to know that both of them desired it - but to know that he had seen it, felt it, almost made her envious.   

“I will carry our children gladly,” she whispered. “Whenever that time may come for us. Although I think - “ 

Linnea swallowed past the lump in her throat. The thought of Eressie’s son was fresh in her mind, with this talk - the son that was barely a dozen years old, that would never know more of his father. Haste was not something their people engaged in; the hand of time crawled so slowly for them. Under normal circumstances, she and Ereinion might wait a century or more to begin their time of children. Her parents had done so. 

But these were not normal circumstances. Their love was not a normal love. 

War would come. They would both need their strength, in hröa and fëa alike. The enemy was biding his time, building his strongholds and increasing his armies. If they were going to have children, perhaps soon was the time.

“I think - “

It was no strange matter that her children would not know their grandparents. Many did not. Her own grandparents, all of them, had perished in the Wars of Beleriand. She had no memories of them; they had been long gone by the time she had been born. They had been weavers too, all four of them, and she often wondered what she might have learned from Lhénes’ mother Lhéniel or Taucion’s father Tauben. 

Lhénes would never show a grandchild how to warp a loom. Taucion would never weave a blanket for a young one.

“I - “

She didn’t feel the tears overflowing and dripping down her face. Not until Ereinion’s hands closed around hers, gently taking the half-full cup of tea from her and setting it to the side. 

He was kneeling on the floor before her, and once he had moved the tea, he gathered her into his arms, pulling her head to rest on his shoulder. And then more - he slid his arms around her back and under her legs and rose, lifting her with him. She raised her head, her cheeks still streaked with tears, and saw the sorrow she felt reflected in his eyes.

He didn’t say anything. Instead, he simply carried her across the room, stepping around the furnishings. He was moving towards the sleeping alcove, and when he reached it, he laid her down on the bed, on top of the covers that had been neatly set in place.

She moved over, and Ereinion joined her, laying down beside her, still in his nightrobe. He was propped up against the pillows and so was she; it was a position where they could see each other easily, and the newness of everything offered another of those momentary distractions from grief.         

The blankets were soft. That was the first thing. They were good wool, light - the Eldar were not vulnerable to the cold - and woven in a warm blend of gold and brown. As her fingers touched the cloth, she could feel faint charms in the threads; whoever had woven the blankets had been strong in the art, and she could sense blessings for peaceful rest and pleasant dreams. 

The same had been laid on the ivory satin that covered the pillows she was leaning against. Ereinion’s dark hair spilled over them; his eyes were riveted on her face, and she could feel the warmth of his body as they lay next to each other. He was such a perfect example of their people: tall and sturdy even for a Noldor, broad and strong, and beautiful.

And yet, when he gathered her up against him, all that strength was held in reserve. While she could feel the muscles of his body, his hands were gentle, and his embrace was infinitely tender. He turned onto his back, positioning her at his side, and she pillowed her head in the space between his chest and his shoulder with her cheek against the satin of his nightrobe. 

“Are you comfortable, melethel?”

It almost tickled, the rumble of his voice beneath her face, and it made Linnea smile even through the tempest of emotion that was swirling in her. “Very,” she whispered. “Thank you.” 

He hummed softly in acknowledgment. “I had hoped you would find the bed to your liking,” he murmured. “And that you would enjoy sleeping here often.”

This was something she had been curious about. Her parents had shared a room, but she didn’t know if the Noldor did things differently. She hadn’t minded having her own rooms thus far, especially as she’d been settling in to court, but she’d wondered about what would happen after the wedding. 

“I think I would, if that is something you would want,” she said softly. “I was not sure what the customs would be, if we would continue as we have been or if you would want me here…”

He chuckled, and shifted their positions again so that they could look at each other. “I will always want you here with me,” he said. “I thought to give you a space of your own that you could use for hosting, as you have done. But yes, beloved…if you will it so, I would have you come to me at night. Even when we do not lie together, I would have you share my bed and greet the dawn with me.”    

She reached up, caressing his cheek. “I would like that,” she said again. “And I - “

She paused. The other question she had been so curious about hovered on her tongue, prompted by his words, but it made her cheeks heat up even at the thought of asking. He was new to this too; would he even have an answer? 

He noticed.

“What makes you blush so?” he murmured. 

Linnea took a deep breath, pushing the embarrassment down. This was her betrothed; her soulmate. He would be her husband in only a few more days. There was no need for such between them; he was the person she could speak to about it.

“I was not sure about that either,” she said softly. “About - how often we would lie together. I did not know what the Noldor do, or even the Sindar, really, and there is no one to ask, and I did not want to disappoint you if - or seem too eager if - “

Ereinion laughed.

But it was not a malicious laugh; he was not laughing at her. It was a warm, gentle laugh, and as he did, he brought his hand up to cup her face and bring their foreheads together. Her eyes closed and she felt his laughter fade, felt the soft brush of his lips against hers.

“I have wondered the same,” he whispered. “Truly. You are not alone in your uncertainty. In my youth, I was taught that such desires were tied to the time of children, and that while the union of love brought great joy and delight, the wish for it would fade once that time had passed.”

She nodded. “I was taught the same,” she said. “But - “

No shyness, she reminded herself. Not with him.

“ - but I want you,” she finished, all in a rush. “And I was never told that it would be like that. I did not know if it was me, or you, or something else. I wondered if it is different for us because of how we met, how we knew so quickly.”

She felt him move, and opened her eyes. He had scooted back slightly so that he could meet her gaze again.

“I think it very likely,” he murmured. “For I desire you as well, melethel. Greatly. This you know. And I too wondered at it, how it was so different from what I had thought to expect - even had I wed when I was young.” 

She smiled with relief, knowing that the same thoughts had been in his mind. And the feeling made her bold, bold enough to reach for him and bring their lips together, pouring her desire into the kiss so that he would have absolutely no doubt that she spoke true. He had said she knew, and she did - and he deserved the same. 

Ereinion let out a soft moan as she did it, and his arm slid to her waist to draw her body against him. It was another one of those moments where her skin did not feel like it could contain everything inside - desire, grief, love, sorrow - and it pushed her to be even more daring, to slide her leg up and over his waist in a rustle of silk and satin so that they could be even closer.     

The kiss deepened and she let herself fall into it; she let the touch of his lips and the taste of him - spices from their dinner, herbs from the tea - drive everything else away. And it was her turn to moan as his leg slid in between hers, as the thick, rock-solid muscles of his thigh pressed against her core through her nightgown and his arm tightened around her waist. 

At the sound, he tore his mouth from hers, breathing raggedly - but he also didn’t move away.  

“Linnea,” he said raggedly. “I would not - we do not need to rush, we can wait for anything more. Our wedding is a fortnight away.”  

She took a deep breath. Her breasts pushed against his chest as she did; they were so close, so close. What he said was true; they could stop. But his kisses, his hands, were another of those anchors to the here and now, and she did not want to stop.    

They would wait for their wedding night for their ultimate union, yes, but they could explore one another before that. Coming to it all new was certainly special, but this was a different kind of special - the special of knowing at least something of how to give pleasure, the nervousness that it would not be enjoyable for the other banished.

If that was what he wanted too.

“It is,” she whispered, acknowledging what he had said. “But you were right, beloved. You are as much my husband now as you will be after we lie together. And tonight I wish to feel my husband’s touch - if he is willing.”  

He was.

Her words broke any resolve he had mustered up to pull back, to make his offer. His mouth crashed back onto hers and she was rolling onto her back, Ereinion rising over her and propping himself on his arms so that his weight did not crush her. Her eyes were closed, but she felt his hair fall over his shoulders, silkily brushing against her face and neck. 

And then he stopped. His weight shifted again.

Linnea opened her eyes, looking up at him. He was gazing at her with such love that her heart felt that it would burst, and yes, there was still grief - but for the first time, as she lay there, it was possible to see that all of this had to happen this way. They were soulmates, fated to be, but perhaps all that had come before had been necessary for them to meet at the right time, under the right circumstances.            

“When you wish to stop, you have only to say the word,” he whispered. “And you must speak it if I hurt you, or if there is anything - “

She pressed her fingers to his lips. 

“I will wait to have all of you till our wedding night,” she murmured. “But I think there is much we can do to please each other apart from that, is there not?”

Ereinion smiled, and kissed her fingers.

“Let us find out.”

With that, he dropped his head, and began leaving a trail of kisses that started below her ear and made its way down her neck, right to the edge of her nightrobe. He was leisurely, moving slowly, letting his lips linger and dance on the skin that he was kissing, and every so often his teeth would delicately nip. It was delicious and maddening at the same time, and Linnea writhed - and as she did, her core rocked against the thigh that was still between her legs, which was its own form of maddening.

Ereinion dropped a last kiss on her collarbone and then lifted back up. He balanced himself on one arm, and the fingers of his free hand followed the path his lips had just taken, skating slowly down her neck. 

And his fingers stopped at the edge of her robe, his eyes seeking permission, and she nodded. 

He sat up, taking her hand and gently tugging so that she did the same. And once she was up, his hands moved to the belt of her robe, even as his eyes remained fixed on hers. She nodded again as he found the knot, and with that consent given, he undid the belt and smoothed the robe off her shoulders.  

The neck of her nightgown was gathered at the center of her chest with a ribbon. The small bow was the next object of his attention; he untied that as well, loosening the neck so that it slid down off her shoulders and caught on the swells of her breasts. 

He hadn't really revealed anything yet. But she felt more exposed, as his eyes dragged down from her neck to her breasts, than she ever had in her life. Heat throbbed in her belly, between her legs, craving for more of his touch - and also craving to touch him. 

His lead was a good one to follow. Linnea started with the belt of his robe, making sure to receive his nod before untying it. When it was off, she found that in addition to the beautiful shirt, he was also wearing a pair of loose silk pants of the same pale gold, soft and comfortable against his skin.

And just like him, she hadn't revealed much, but she still traced the outlines of his body with her eyes.

Hers.

The lanterns hanging from the ceiling were dim, casting the room in shadow and mystery, but they were still bright enough to make the pearl clasp at Erenion's throat sparkle. She fixed on that, unbuttoning it, and then sliding her hands underneath the edge of his shirt to lift it off him. 

And then there was much, much more to look at: a smooth, chiseled chest and arms and shoulders and stomach, the trained warrior so apparent in the strength and power of him.

She tossed the shirt away and barely noticed where it landed. 

The gold silk pants were tied at his waist, and they beckoned temptingly. But there was plenty for her to explore now, and she was not about to delay getting started. 

Ereinion sucked in a breath as she placed her hand on his chest and pushed, toppling him over onto his back, and she heard his heart speed up as she followed him and straddled his waist. His hands went to her hips, eyes hooded and dark, and she tried not to think too much about what she could feel pressing between her legs - later for that, later. 

Instead, she focused on his chest, spreading her hands over the expanse of flawless skin. Slowly and carefully, Linnea traced the outlines of each muscle, exploring the map and the texture of him, and smiling as he fought for air beneath her fingertips. His hold on her hips tightened but he didn’t say a word; he just let her caress him, like he was learning too, learning what it felt like to be touched with love. 

But he wasn’t going to be passive forever.

He lifted further up once she brushed over the lower part of his stomach, just above his waist, and his arms wrapped firmly around her. She slid hers around his neck and pressed herself tight against him as he claimed her mouth with his; she tangled her fingers into his long, dark hair even as she felt him brush her hair away from her neck. And then he was abandoning her lips to kiss his way down her throat again, making her whimper softly.

A warm, strong hand slid down her side, and nestled itself against the underside of her breast.

He pushed up, plumping the flesh above her nightgown, and his lips feathered over that too. His hand felt like it was aflame, and part of her wondered that it did not burn the cloth, but that was far less interesting than what it was doing - gently squeezing and kneading, thumb brushing over the center of the fabric covering her to find and tease her nipple into a stiff, aching peak.

As good as it felt, she wanted more. Her nightgown was an unacceptable barrier and somehow he knew, whether it was her continued soft whines or the rocking restlessness of her hips; he abandoned his efforts and yanked the edge of her nightgown down, baring her breast to his eyes, and once again she could hear and feel his heart hammering.

“Nan i ‘aear ar in elin,” he muttered, a beautiful epithet that scorched her skin. “Rîn vuin.”

“Aran vui - oh, Ereinion…”

Beloved King, she had meant to say in reply, but his lips had closed around her nipple and his mouth suckled her, hot and damp, soothing the ache and at the same time making it worse. One hand still held her breast for his attention; the other pressed on her back, keeping her close to him. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she dropped her head to rest against his, lost in sensation, waves of pleasure rippling from where his mouth touched her out to the very tips of her fingers and toes.    

He switched hands, ministering to her other breast in the same fashion. Her nightgown dropped down, a band of bunched fabric between waist and thigh that barely covered anything, and had he stopped long enough to tear it completely off of her she would have helped him to do it. Her arms held him loosely, her hands still tangled in his hair, and she could have let him continue for the entirety of the night just like this and been happy for it. 

But she felt that burning hot hand land on the bare skin of her thigh, just above her knee, and his mouth and tongue stopped their movements. He released her breast and raised his eyes to her, lips still hovering just above her tender nipple, and breathed against her skin.

“May I?”

She nodded. And she turned her head to watch. 

Ereinion was doing the same, pillowing his head on her bare breast. The edge of her nightgown lay across her thigh, and she watched as his hand slid upward and his fingertips slipped beneath the hem, and his thumb captured it. As his hand continued to move, the fabric moved with it, pooling in the crease of her hips. Linnea shuddered at the sight and the feel of his hand there, where none save her own had been before, feeling her core swell and slicken even more than it already was. She wanted his hand higher, more, she wanted his fingers dragging through her and releasing the coil of pleasure that he’d already wound up so tight. 

There was one more barrier, short silk drawers beneath the nightgown. But they were loose, and presented no obstruction.

“Ereinion…”

The softest of exploring caresses, as he finally reached the apex of her thighs. She went rigid with sensation at the delicate trace of his fingertips over the damp, quivering, burning flesh, so gentle and yet almost overwhelming.

“Avo dharo,” she moaned, barely conscious of speaking. “Please - do not stop, please, meleth nín…”

“Linnea,” he whispered. His other hand moved, wrapping around her waist, holding her close. “Linnea.”

She clutched his shoulders as he continued, his touch growing the tiniest bit firmer as he learned the shape of her. She felt his hot breath on her skin, his lips caressing the side of her breast, as he worked to coax the pleasure higher and higher. Any shyness was a distant memory; her tongue was unbound, offering praise when his touch found the right places, the right patterns. A finger slid into her and she cried out at the new sensation, clenching around it, her hips rocking helplessly against his palm where it cupped her. Everything was so new, so new, and there was the added thrill of not knowing what he would do next, how he would touch or where he would press, and -

She shattered.

Nothing at all like how she had explored her own body, as different as night to day. She couldn't see, couldn't breathe, couldn't think; the only thing in the entire world was the release, that wound-up coil of pleasure finally letting go. Cries escaped her parted lips somehow, even though all of the air had left her lungs; soft moans of his name, and wordless pleas, entreaties for more, for yes, for don't stop. 

As she came back to herself, she was aware of her nails digging into his back; her forehead, slick with sweat, pressed into the side of his neck. The hand on her waist moved up, smoothing soothingly over her back, as the hand between her legs gently eased away. 

“Are you well?”

Was she well? Could he not tell? But although Ereinion's voice was the softest whisper, he sounded nervous. And although she was still trembling and unsure if she could speak, she lifted her head and met his eyes, and managed a smile, and that seemed to be enough to reassure him. He leaned in for a kiss - a slow, gentle, tender kiss, perfect for the moment of winding down, resting, pausing before the next thing happened. 

That next thing, she vowed, was going to be her making him feel just as good. 

“Lie down,” she murmured, once their lips had parted. “It is my turn.”

“Melethel, you do not - “

Have to, she was sure he was about to say, and no, she did not, but she wanted to. And more, she did not wish to spend even a moment explaining that to him; there was a far, far better way to let him know it.

So instead of speaking, she stopped him by sliding her hand between them and caressing between his legs.

He collapsed back onto the bed as if all of his bones had suddenly vanished. His fingers dug into the blankets, clenching in a white-knuckled grip. And when she reached for the tie on his pants, he helped, lifting his hips so that she could slide them down without having to move off of him. And she had seen an unclothed man before - but this was different, it was her unclothed man, and as his sex slipped free the only thing she could think was beautiful. Beautiful.

Linnea didn’t hesitate for a moment. She wrapped her hand around him; his sturdiness was reflected here too. He was long and thick and perfect, velvety soft and diamond hard, hers hers hers. She let her fingers wander, exploring slowly and carefully and gently, taking her turn to learn his shape and his texture. He was trembling, the muscles of hands and arms as tight as a drawn bowstring, the iron control that had formed over hundreds of years shattering in mere seconds. A power that she had never known existed, and it was hers and only hers; she would be the only one who would ever do this for him, to him. 

“Linnea.” A string of broken curses followed her name, and it made her heart swell with both pride and relief. “Gin iallon - I - “ 

He jerked, and a moment later, his seed spilled hot over her hand. A high, soft moan left his lips at the same time as he gasped; more broken words, nonsense, his eyes slammed shut and teeth clenched tight.

She couldn’t help but smile at the sight. If she had thought he was beautiful before, he was infinitely more so now, caught in the throes of pleasure that she had given him. She slowed her hand and drew it away as his body stilled; she had been sensitive after she had reached her peak, even the lightest touch almost too much, and she thought it likely that the same would be so for him.

He had pleasured her. She had pleasured him. It was enough - for now.

There was a washbasin off to the side of the bed, with a full pitcher of water at the ready. Linnea rose for just long enough to clean her hands and dry them, and to pull her nightgown back up around her shoulders. Ereinion was still lying motionless when she returned to him, although he stirred when she curled up against his side and pillowed her head back on his chest. His arm went around her, and she felt his lips brush her hair.

“Two thousand years,” he murmured. “And I could not have imagined this.”

“How could you have?” she whispered. “How could anyone, save by experiencing it? I cannot see someone trying to write it down…”

“Rúmil tried,” he said dryly. “Although the verse left something to be desired.”

“Rúmil?” Linnea sat up, looking at him in confusion. “The poet?”

“Indeed.” Ereinion gave her a small, self-deprecating smile, reaching down and pulling his pants back up to his hips. “Melethel, I wanted to be perfect for you. I feared I would hurt you out of ignorance, or at the least, that I would fail to give you pleasure. I thought to perhaps gain some small amount of knowledge before our wedding. And Rúmil was said to have written some very…intimate…passages.” He chuckled. “Yet as you say, it is not possible to describe in words.”

He’d tried to research. 

She laid back down on his chest, feeling his arms come back around her. “It was perfect,” she whispered. “It was you. You required no guidance, meleth nín, not even from a poet as brilliant as Rúmil. Your touch was all I needed.”

He kissed her forehead. “This was not my intent when I asked you to stay with me tonight,” he murmured. “But I am grateful for it. Both for learning something of you, that our wedding night will be naught but joy - and also for what you have given me, shared with me.” 

He was right. This night had been a gift from each of them to the other, and she wondered how many other couples had done the same before their wedding. It simply wasn’t talked about; it was too sacred, too special to discuss in any sort of casual environment. She knew that Men and Dwarves did so, even made light of it - she had heard some of the crude jests when merchants had come to trade. Perhaps their ways suited their peoples, but she could think of nothing so beautiful as what had just happened between herself and Ereinion. 

And in that beauty was also peace. Her spirit was content, the grief soothed by his nearness. It was easier to remember that her parents were not gone forever, that they would rest in the Halls of Mandos and then be reborn to live in the Blessed Lands. She would see them again; this was a parting, but not an ending.

“And you, my love,” she said softly. “Just as much have you given me. And I am grateful to know I returned your gift in kind.”   

He chuckled again, and he shifted, using his feet to push at the blankets and draw them up over them both. She approved; pleasure had left her languid, and between that and the warmth of him, sleep tugged at her. 

“In kind,” he said wryly. “My love, you wondered how often we would lie together. Knowing that I can give this pleasure to you, and how the touch of your hands feels for me…I fear you will grow very weary of my desires in that respect.”

She echoed his laugh, even as she settled herself against him and closed her eyes. 

“We shall see who grows weary of the other’s desires first, aran vuin,” she murmured. “You may regret taking a wife who demands you remain in bed so often.”

“Nidhinc bestad meneg lui bo i chaust hen,” he said, and she could hear his smile. “And that will just be a start.”

Continue to Part 10

A/N on the Sindarin, all credit to RealElvish.net:

Nidhinc bestad meneg lui bo i chaust hen: We shall wed a thousand times on this bed.

Aran vuin: Beloved king

Rin vuin: Beloved queen

Avo dharo: Don’t stop

Gin iallon: I beg you

Nan i ‘aear ar in elin: By the sea and the stars

[emeritusemeritus]

if you’re taking requests can you do fred x artist!reader maybe? it’s okay if not though! (:

Hi love! Let me start by saying I’m sorry that this completely took on a life of its own. I started writing and I couldn’t stop, too engrossed in the story. I wasn’t sure what kind of art you wanted to include so I made the reader a painter/ designer and an all round creative. I’ve sobbed writing this and I’ve even had to split it into two parts because I’ve fallen down a hole and written over 8 thousand words, not joking.

I hope you enjoy! I shall now go and rest 😂🖤

Part 2 will be posted HERE once it is uploaded.

Warnings: ANGST. Sadness, breakups, illusions to cheating, breakup references. Happy ending I promise! Talks of marriage, proposals, Hagrid and his creatures, Fang being the goodest boy. Lots of tears and sadness but it gets better! Not beta read nor spellchecked, apologies for any mistakes. Timeline is a little wonky (picturing it OOTP just before the twins departure but there’s no war/no Umbridge)

Word count: 4.9k [Part 1&2= 8.2k] 😬

The Artist and the Entrepreneur part 1

You walked into your dorm in an exhausted slump, trying desperately not to sigh too loudly of our sheer exhaustion in order to not wake your dorm mates. It was nearly 11:30pm by the time you had made it back to the dorms, having to wake and then calm down the fat lady who was not willing to listen to your explanation of why you were out so late. You needed to bathe and get to sleep, ready for classes the next morning but you could barely function, trying desperately to summon the energy to undress and make your way to the bathrooms. It was a necessary evil but it had to be done and so you dragged your near-lifeless body to the bathroom and began running a bath, which thankfully filled up quickly with almost perfect temperature water. You grimaced as you peeled the uniform away from your body, wincing at a particularly nasty wound on your right forearm which you would attempt to heal after you'd bathed. Your hands were covered in paint, mud and whatever else had made their way under your nails, arms littered with paint splatters and other vague marks.

Sinking down into the water, you forced yourself to stay awake feeling suddenly soothed by the warm water, both physically and mentally. It had been a hard couple of weeks, stretched beyond your means as your timetable suddenly doubled. You were tired, exhausted and still there was another week to go of this madness, but it would all worth it on the end.

You dried quickly, assisting yourself with a flick of your wand and dressed into your pyjamas, hardly managing to scoop up your dirty uniform on your way back to bed.

5am came much quicker than you'd have liked. It was almost as if you'd closed your eyes and opened them again only a minute later. You crawled out of bed trying again to stay silent and reached for the clean set of uniform and robes on the chair beside your bed, kicking the lump of dirty uniform under your bed to deal with later. You slipped into the bathrooms to dress so that you wouldn't wake anyone and slipped down to the common room, pray in that you didn't see anyone on the way. You cast a glance at the boys dormitory staircase and felt a stab of sorrow thinking of Fred and how you'd barely seen him in the past two weeks. You were often gone before breakfast and not back until well past curfew, not that either of the twins ever abided by the rules.

"Oh shush," you said to the fat lady who had begun her usual spiel of sounding the alarm due to you being out of bed out of hours, not listening nor remembering the speech you'd given everyday for the past two weeks as you attempted to sneak out. You couldn't afford to be discovered by the prefects nor any teachers roaming the corridors, as above board as your mission was- you couldn't risk Fred finding out what you were doing.

Sunlight shone through the windows as you made your way around the castle, holding back a shiver at the coldness of the castle in the late March morning, your robes doing very little to shield you from the chill. You crept out of the castle and marvelled at the beautiful first rays of daylight peaking through the trees of the forbidden forest. You looked ahead and saw that smoke was billowing from the chimney of Hagrid's hut, the only sign of life against the otherwise serene backdrop of the forbidden forest. You made your way slowly, enjoying the peaceful walk down to the hut, hoping that Hagrid had put the kettle on in anticipation of your arrival.

"Morning y/n!" Hagrid says with a wide smile, bustling around in the small hut, much too awake for this time in the morning. Fang in stark contrast lay slumped in his bed and half asleep, continuously disturbed by Hagrid's banging. A steaming cup of tea lay waiting for you on the table and you thank him graciously, taking a soothing sip of the hot liquid. You look at the clock on the wall beside the window as see that it's nearly half 5 now, the sun rising in the sky and greeting an almost ethereal light across the magnificent castle, a sight that still amazed you even seven years later.

"Beautiful isn't it?" Hagrid asks, noticing you gazing up at the castle and you share a smile for a moment, the tiredness having faded now thanks to the alarmingly strong cup of tea that you'd now become accustomed to.

"Ready to get to work now?" He asks, watching you drain the last of the tea from the large mug. You try to hide your disappointment from being dragged out once again to the edge of the forest, knowing that you'd signed up for this. You nod with a smile, navigating around the large table as you move towards to door behind Hagrid. You shoot a look towards Fang, wanting to give him a parting stroke but you notice quickly that he's fallen back to sleep and so you leave him alone to snooze, wishing that you could too.

It was nearly half 8 when you walked into the great hall, taking a brief detour to the bathrooms as you washed your hands and to hide any evidence of your morning. Your early start was already catching up to you and you hid a yawn behind the sleeve of your robe as you walked through the doors of the great hall. You checked your robe one last time for any signs of evidence but thankfully you were clear, noticing only a moment later when you took you'll place at the table that there was a great dollop of pint upon your shoe.

"Here she is," George says from across the table, nodding his head towards you as you climbed onto the bench beside Ron in the gap between him and Neville.

"Switch with Y/n Ronald," Fred says from beside him without a hint of a please. Knowing he won't get any manners out of his older brother, Ron complies and shifts up to allow you to sit beside your boyfriend.

"Thanks Ron," you say, trying to hold off the yawn that was threatening to break free at any moment.

"Morning beautiful, you're late," Fred says, his hand slipping across your back as you pour yourself a large glass of pumpkin juice. He frowns at the coldness of your robes beneath his fingers but doesn't say anything. "You overlay again?"

"Yeah," you lie, feeling immediately guilty about the fact. "Snape's set us a load of work, took me ages to figure it out last night. Didn't get a lot of sleep." As if to prove your point, the yawn you'd been suppressing finally escapes with so much force that it makes your eyes water.

You manage to force down some toast, staying quiet as the conversation continues around you. The first bell rings and you barely hold back a sigh, detesting the fact that you'd have to get up again.

"I can walk you to potions?" Fred says, holding his hand out to help you off the bench. You're quick to conceal the paint on your shoe and if he notices, he doesn't say anything.

"And have you late for charms again?" You counter, raising an eyebrow at your boyfriend who just shrugs completely unfazed.

"Haven't seen you much lately, thought you'd been avoiding me."

His words feel like a stab directly to your heart, knowing that you were guilty of avoiding him, though it wasn't in a negative way. Your craved the time with him, of mischief in the late hours and spontaneous moments in hidden corridors and empty classrooms.

"I promise I'm not," you say with a smile, trying to vanquish his idea completely as you lean up to press a kiss to his full lips. His arms immediately grab your waist as he pulls you in for a deeper kiss that borders on inappropriate but you relent, unable to resist after not seeing him properly for so long.

"So, potions?" Fred smirks, pulling away. You chuckle, placing your hands on his chest.

"For me? Yes. For you? No, get to charms," you order playfully, leaning up to give him one last peck on the lips before turning away. "See you at lunch!"

You can hear his boyish chuckle as you walk away down the corridor in the opposite direction of him, praying that he would be entirely too focused on the swishing of your behind and that the paint on your shoe would go entirely unseen.

By lunch you were completely exhausted, too tired to even notice the suspicious side-eyes from the identical twins as they watched you poke around at your food and down a second cup of very strong tea, having outwardly complained that the first one was too weak. Uncharacteristically for them, they said nothing and continued to chatter amongst themselves, keeping the conversation open for you though you didn't give much imput.

"Fancy the black lake tonight, after hours?" Fred whispers in your ear, knowing even without looking that a smirk would be tugging at his lips. You inwardly grimaced, cursing your ridiculous secret plan as you wished more than anything that you could join him. You were running out of excuses now, finding it hard to keep track with what you'd already lied about.

"I can't tonight, got an essay for snape in the morning I've still not finished," you say with a guilty expression, almost wincing as the words too-effortlessly tumble out of your mouth. "Friday night I promise?"

He seems put out almost instantly, never one to be able to conceal his emotions well. He looks frustrated, confused and rejected within seconds of each other and gives a halfhearted nod at your counter offer of Friday instead.

The bell rings signalling the end of lunch and you hope for a kiss before parting but lose all hope when you feel his lips briefly brush your hairline and he runs off to catch up with George and Angelina.

You avoided the common room after classes, choosing instead to sneak down to Hagrid's a little early, thankful for Thursday evening Quidditch practice which meant that you wouldn't cross paths with Fred.

"Y/n, I'm nipping out tomorrow on dumbledores orders, think you could nip down and check in everything while I'm gone?" Hagrid says as you out dutifully complete your given task, hoping to get it done quickly so you could try and salvage a bit of time tonight for Fred. His questions throws you off for long enough that you feel a hot gust of fire breezing past your right ear, followed by a burning sensation in the same spot. He's quick to act and gets you out of harms way before any more damage is done whilst you remain slightly frozen in both fear and contemplation. You knew you couldn't say no, in debt to his generosity and so you simply nodded, already dreading the implications of your acceptance.

It's late once again when you arrive at the common room, only half an hour til curfew, and despite your attempts at hiding your tiredness and attempting to appear happy and neutral, you can't help but feel the guilt swirling in your gut when you see Fred and George pedalling their products to the younger students with wide smiles on their faces and still dressed in their quidditch uniforms. You sneak up to Fred once he's done with a sale and slip behind him, placing your hand on his shoulder to alert him to your presence. 

Only, when he turns around his smile slowly fades upon realisation that it's you and your heart immediately begins to break, knowing that it was the other way round. He doesn't instantly reach out for you with his big grabby hands like usual nor does he attempt to kiss you. You try and salvage the situation, putting more effort in, trying to be as normal as possible but he seems to see right through the act.

"Wanna sneak out? I hear the black lake is beautiful this time of night." You say with a smirk, trying desperately to mask your tiredness and to hold it together. He doesn't jump at the chance as you hoped and instead casts a cursory glance to George before turning back to you.

"Can't tonight, got to restock the snack boxes with George," he says, briefly touching your hand before a third year calls his name, hand outstretched ready to buy one of his creations. Your stomach sinks, knowing that it's a lie and the irony of the situation only seems to hurt you more as you feel your eyes well up with fresh tears. You excuse yourself immediately, not even greeting your friends who you can tell are watching the tense exchange and you hope more than anything that no one follows you. You're completely depleted with exhaustion, running on hardly any sleep and completely overworked by your own doing. Suddenly the outcome didn't seem worth it and you regretted ever starting, finding your idea foolish.

You let your tears flow as you shower, passively washing away the fresh marks from the day off your arms, the clear gel and the colourful spatters draining away down the plug hole with your tears. You wince in pain when the water falls directly onto the freshly wounded skin behind your ear and your neck, execrating yourself for missing that spot despite Hagrid's warnings.

Too tired and upset to face going back down to the common room, you give up and reward yourself with an early night, though you feel anything but rewarded.

5am came around once more and more than ever you begrudgingly pulled yourself from the warm bed and slipped into the bathroom, the reminder of Fred's rejection playing on your mind from the second your eyes opened. Had you dreamt about it? Either way his reaction was firmly imprinted on your mind and you couldn't get away from how desperately painful it was to have him reject you like that. You slipped out of the common room on autopilot, closing the door with a little too much force already anticipating the fat lady's usual ranting and slumped off towards Hagrid's hut. The skies looked as sombre and sorrowful as you felt, covering the sky in a dull grey hue that seemed to dull the normally beautiful sunrise. You were quiet this morning, not rude or impolite but simply quiet as you worked alongside Hagrid, consumed by your foreboding thoughts knowing that you would still have to cancel Fred tonight, if he even cared anymore.

Once your morning jobs were complete, you decline any further invite to stay and decide instead to sneak back into the castle for breakfast, hoping you could join your friends and boyfriend like usual. Breakfast had only just begun when you walked into the great hall, having made your usual stop off at the girls bathrooms on the way and you're not surprised when the only person sat at the table is Hermione who's already got her head down in a book. She lifts her head up to greet you happily as you sit opposite her at the table, beginning to place her bookmark on the page she's on but you tell her not to, to enjoy the peace whilst she can. She shoots you a grateful smile and you sit enjoying your second cup of tea in peace, thankful you could make this happen today. You knew it was at the expense of your other jobs and you'd most certainly pay for it in the long run but having half of the morning to reset still felt good.

"Morning," Angelina says as a sits down at the table next to Hermione who this time only says a passive greeting, much too engrossed in her book. Angelina reached immediately for a glass of pumpkin juice before rubbing her eyes and yawning at the early hour.

"Not been sleeping well?" You ask with relative concern for your friend, watching her yawn for a second time within seconds. "Staying up late trying to find a loophole in quidditch rules again?" You joke with a smile, watching as she shoots you a mock glare even though it was most probably true, only to be interrupted by her third yawn.

"I wish! Still never finished reading that rule book," she snorts. "I know there's something there I've missed." She takes a sip of her pumpkin juice and you watch as she swallows down another yawn. "I was at the black lake with the twins last night, didn't get back til late."

It's amazing that you don't choke on your own pumpkin juice as the words glide out of her mouth, your stomach sinking like a stone at the implications. You knew Angelina and there was no malice nor hidden meaning behind her words but it still stings more than getting caught in the path of a Ukrainian Ironbelly. Fred had openly lied to you, had rejected you and had invited Angelina in your place. You're frozen in place by the revelation but Angelina doesn't notice, now heartily tucking into her breakfast, though you do notice hermione peeking over her book to look at you. Tears begin to prickle your eyes as the sinking feeling in your gut consumes you, your thoughts spiralling out of control. He didn't want you anymore, you'd pushed him too far to come back from, all with him in mind.

You barely noticed when Ron, Ginny and Harry appeared at the table but you noticed immediately when you heard two very familiar voices echoing as Fred and George walked into the great hall. You had to leave, you had to get out before then took their places. A part of you, wether it was self-punishment or morbid curiosity wanted to stay and see if Fred would chose to sit next to you, to see if he'd interact with you or be cold and distant but you couldn't do it, knowing that the latter would kill you. You stood up so quickly that you bumped your knee on the bottom of the table with a resounding thud that seemed to draw everyone's attention to you but you didn't stick around to shrivel under their curious gazes. There was no way you could avoid Fred now as he made his way to the table but you couldn't do anything about that. Placing your hand over your mouth, you feigned queasiness and ran out of the hall, straight past Fred and George.

Climbing up the spiralling staircase from potions, your stomach sank when you saw a familiar form resting against one of the pillars in the corridor, his shining red hair leaving no doubt as to who it was. You waited for your fellow classmates to disperse, signalling for Alicia to go ahead with the others, leaving you and Fred alone. You half hoped for the first time ever that you'd gotten the twins mixed up

And that it was actually George that was waiting for you but as you walked over with a faux smile on your face, there was no doubt in your mind that it was Fred.

"Hi," you said, sounding awkward even to your own ears. He gives you a look, apparently having noticed your unusually formal greeting too and reaches out for you as if nothing was wrong. His touch feels wrong, the lies feeling like an impenetrable barrier between you and you don't sink into his touch as you usually did, nor do you make any attempt to reach out for him in return.

"Still want to go to the black lake tonight?" He says, reaching out to play with a strand of your hair from the haphazardly thrown up ponytail. His words feel like a knife, like a taunt of what you missed out in last night. Did he know that you knew about his jaunts last night or was he planning on denying the entire thing and acting like nothing was wrong?

You couldn't bite your tongue any longer, the unyielding sleep deprivation affecting your ability to regulate your emotions and you pulled yourself back out of his reach with a venomous look in your eyes.

"Thought you'd have seen enough of it with Angelina last night,' you spit out, the quickly fading logical part of your brain hardly believing that you were having this conversation with Fred, the downfall of your relationship taking you completely by surprise as it's ungodly pace. He blanches, face flushing pale as his ears turn more and more pink upon hearing your words. His eyes widen momentarily and the sickness in your gut increases as you note how panicked he looks, your fears confirmed that he was intending on not telling you anything.

"Princess," he says, trying to bounce back from his momentary shock as he reaches out for you but you avoid his hand entirely, blocking him by slightly turning your body to the right, away from him.

"My name is y/n," you counter, uncaring for his term of endearment. His brown creases but in a flash it's gone, his gaze now focused on your ear. You watch as his eyes harden, no longer looking guilty as his eyes set into a hard stare that grazes across your face until he finally looks into your eyes, somehow in competition with you for how angry you can gaze at eachother.

"It's not my whereabouts that need questioning though is it?" He says through partially gritted teeth, unrelenting eyes staring into your soul.

"What are you talking about?" You counter, trying desperately to hold onto your anger but it's quickly draining from you under his suspicious scrutiny.

"Seems you forgot to hide that one," he spits, pointing to the mark behind your ear. Your gaze softens immediately as you realise what he's pointing to- the pink mark on your neck. In your haste to not set your hair on fire in potions, you'd quickly tied up your hair and had completely forgotten that the mark on your neck would now be visible.

"Fred," you say, the tables turning on you now as you cower under his powerful gaze.

"Thought it was odd that you kept disappearing," he says with a grumble, his voice sounding so cold and distant that you barely recognise it. "Who is he?"

"What?" You ask suddenly, quietly, completely floored by his accusation, your mouth agape as you look upon the heated gaze of your boyfriend, though you quickly realise it may be the last time you can call him that. Never had you thought that he would have accused you of cheating. Finding out your secret maybe but this? Never.

"You heard me, who is it? Bet it's Towler isn't it," he sneers, almost spitting as he says Kenneth Towler's name to taunt you. "Reckon he's long overdue for a second dose of bulbadox powder."

You're frozen in disbelief at the furthering accusations he's spouting, his mind already wandering back to Kenneth Towler who's skin had erupted into boils during your fifth year thanks to Fred putting Bulbadox powder in his pyjamas when he'd come on to you a bit too strongly during a mid-season Quidditch game. Fred had been so distracted upon seeing Towler attempt to drape his arm around you that it caused him to miss an oncoming bludger that caught the tail end of Wood's broom, throwing him off balance and equating in a deciding goal that had given Ravenclaw the lead, that then resulted in their victory over Gryffindor. Fred had been furious, not at you naturally but at Towler who he'd declared had lost them the whole game and had vowed a form of revenge by adding the bulbadox.

"It is isn't it?" He prods, taking your silence as confirmation.

"No!" You say with vengeance, wanting to shoot down that accusation straight away. "There's no one," you add. He huffs out a humourless laugh that makes your entire body fill with dread.

"Well someone's giving you those marks and it's certainly not me!" He argues, "haven't let me anywhere near you for weeks, which is funny because you're usually up for it whenever."

Your blood runs cold at his words and you resist the instinctual urge to slap him right across his stupid face. It's like the four years of your relationship have been nothing to him; pulled apart and mocked by one single comment that now made you question everything. Was that all it was to him? Were you just easy and available? You felt physically sick by the thought and you were certain that nothing had ever hurt you so deeply before. The boy you'd fallen so helplessly in love for, the one with the fire red hair and the cheeky grin that only ever seemed to have eyes for you had changed so quickly right before your eyes. The very boy that had supported all of your creative dreams, encouraging you to keep painting and keep creating even when you doubted yourself or lacked inspiration. Merlin, most of the time he was your inspiration.

You realise that there's nothing left to say, that any further attempt to defend yourself will only fall on deaf ears and by his last comment, you weren't sure it was worth trying to salvage the joke that had been your relationship. You thought of the secret you'd be hiding, of the real reason you had been sneaking away and lying to him, so far away from his assumption that it was almost laughable- but now completely void of any importance. There was no coming back from this. What you assumed to have been love for the past four years had completely disappeared from his eyes and you knew from this moment onwards that all you would ever see when he gazed upon you would be pure disdain.

It feels like every bone is breaking in your body simultaneously as you walk away, like your heart is directly under the cruciatus curse with the sheer volume of anguish within your body. You've never felt pain like it, completely unable to distinguish exactly where it hurts or why. You let vision is blurred and your body physically hurts, your ears ringing from the screams of pain that resonate around your head but are trapped inside your mind. You don't look at Fred, you can't, nor can you bear to listen for him calling out to you as you walk away, the last glimmer of hope gone. 

You consider returning to your dorm and locking yourself away for the foreseeable future, skipping all of your classes and sobbing until you can't anymore as you body screams for you to do but you can't. You can't let anyone see you like that, nor would you be able to answer anyone's questions or deal with their stares. And so, you run to the one place you knew you'd be safe.

Fang greets you enthusiastically the second you push through the door to the empty hut and collapse against the door with a roaring cry. The anguish in your cries is one that you'd never heard emitted from yourself or any other human and you no longer fight back the floods of tears that fall down your face like an unstoppable river that had broken the dam. Fang, sensing your distress, walks over to you and calmly sits beside you, placing his huge head in your lap as you cry. You hold on to the lovable boarhound like an oversized teddy bear as the tears flow, uncaring about the inevitable puddle of drool that he'll leave in your lap, the comfort of the sweet dog more needed than ever.

You don't know how long you sit there crying with your pal by your side for every moment but eventually the tears begin to slow, your breath finally evening out though your heart still pounds, much like your head. Fang lifts his head slightly, his big eyes peering into yours and you give him a thankful smile through the tears, even if he doesn't know exactly what you're trying to convey. He gives your arm a little nudge and in your near delusional state, you assume that it's a reply to your thankfulness. You chuckle, giving him a good scratch of appreciation on his wrinkled forehead at the absurdity of the situation, but you'd be forever thankful that of all things, Fang was the only one that had held you together in your darkest moment.

[dearestaussiechannie]

✿ Pinky Promise ✿ — Kim Seungmin

Word count: 1.1k

Paring: Seungmin x Gn!reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: I don't think there are any warnings, just pure fluff.

Authors Notes: I've had Seungmin HEAVY on my mind lately so I really wanted to write this. I'm falling asleep as we speak, SO please enjoy! Not proofread btw so if there's any mistakes lmk <3

It’d been well over two hours since your beloved Seungmin said he’d be home. He had left around noon to head to the studio, rushing to put his shoes on and kiss you goodbye.

“I should be home by 8, when I get home let’s watch a movie?” He asked, more coming across as a statement than a question. You simply nodded and kissed him goodbye, closing the door and patiently awaiting his return. 

Now though, you weren’t so patient. You’d texted him a few times, they’d all gone to delivered but never read and your calls were going straight to voicemail. Disheartened by this, you stopped trying and simply started the movie that you’d picked out for the two of you to watch. 

Without realizing it, you dozed off during the movie. Rubbing your eyes a bit harshly as you looked around, calling out softly. “Min? Are you home?” You say, voice barely above average volume. After you get no response, you get up and look around, finding that you’re still the only person in your apartment. Looking at the clock on the wall for the time, it displayed “12:30am”. 

How’s it so late but Seungmin still isn’t home? You’ve given up on waiting for him as you crawl into your shared bed, pulling his pillow closer to yourself and wrapping your arms around it since you know that the smell of Seung on his pillow and the warmth of the bed will quickly lull you back to sleep and it does wonderfully. 

Not long after you've fallen back asleep, there’s a jiggle at the front door. Seungmin is rushing inside, kicking off his shoes and leaving them where they land, throwing his bag onto the kitchen table as he hurries to the living room. In your haste to get into the bed, you’d left the TV on, leading Min to thinking you were still up but he’s sadly met but an empty couch and a TV playing something random after whatever you’d been watching. 

He looked around the room, noticing the chunky-knit blanket that you like to use while cuddling slightly wrinkled up on the couch from where you’d crawled out from under it. The snacks he always likes on the table, his favorites in front of where he normally sits and yours where you do and then the empty plate that he assumes you ate dinner off of. 

Slowly, he sits on the couch for a moment, hands raking through his hair as he slightly pulls at it. He’s frustrated with the way his day went and at himself for not making it home in time for the plans he’d made with you. The second is what’s really bugging him though, he never misses plans. Sure, they may have been spur of the moment but he made them so he wanted to be there. 

As he stands, he grabs the plate you’d left on the table and drags himself to the kitchen with his head hung low. Once in the kitchen, he once again takes notice of the things you’ve done. Dinner has been cooked and put away, the dinner dishes have been done, kitchen has been cleaned as well as the table that he’d just thrown his backpack onto when he walked inside. Your plate slips from his hands into the sink with a small clink before it’s being put away, cleaned by Seungmin. 

Once he’d cleaned up everything he could find, he slowly made his way into your shared bedroom. Quietly, he gets some clothes and goes to the bathroom, wanting to wash the day away with a shower hoping to wash away his guilt. Once he’s done, he quickly dresses and dries his hair, making his way over to the bed as he hears the blankets moving against the sheets. He looks up at your side, seeing that you’ve rolled closer to his side and you’re hugging his pillow. The sight makes his heart flutter, a big smile spreading across his face.

Crawling into the bed beside you, slowly lifting your arm off his pillow and wrapping it around himself instead and putting his pillow under his own head. He gently kisses the top of your head, brushing the hair out of your face as he admires your sleeping face, the way your brows are slightly frowned and the way that your lips are just ever-so-slightly parted, the feeling of your breath fanning against his skin. How did he get so lucky to come home to you everyday? While lost in his thoughts, he misses the way that the dip in the mattress has now shifted with you now leaning your weight onto your elbow, free hand rubbing your eyes.

“Seungmin? When did you get home?” You ask him, breaking him from his thoughts. He looks over and gently pulls your hand away from your eyes as he shushes you softly. “Not too long, just got outta the shower. Don’t rub your eyes so hard, they'll hurt when you wake up.” He replies, rolling slightly so that he’s now face to face with you. He reaches up, cradling your cheek in his hand as he brushes it with his thumb, you leaning into his touch. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t home in time for our movie night that I suggested..” He says, voice barely above a whisper. “Oh Minnie, it's alright. I knew you were busy, I will admit I was frustrated at first but I got over it since I know that you were doing something important.” You say to him, moving your face a bit and kiss the pad of his thumb. This small action on top of your words makes him light up in a smile, pulling you closer to him to place a small peck on your lips. When he pulls away, you're left chasing his lips for more, pouting slightly. He can’t fight the laugh that he lets out when he sees your face.

“No it's time to sleep, we can kiss more tomorrow while we watch that movie we talked about okay?” He says through his laugh, looking at you with so much love in his eyes. All you can do is nod as you stare into his eyes, laying your head on his chest as you hum. “Pinky promise?” You ask putting your hand up with your pinky out. It’s childish you both know this but he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his pinky around yours as your eyes start to flutter closed.

“Pinky promise.” he says and it’s the last thing you hear before falling back asleep, dreaming about your lives together.

©️ dearestaussiechannie, all rights reserved.

Taglist: (to be added, comment or message me♡)

@bangchansbae @laylasbunbunny

[feelmyskinonyourskin]

Not A Date

Pairing: Frank Castle x Female Reader

My Masterlist

Summary: You get stood up on a date and Frank decides that's unacceptable and you deserve to be taken out tonight. Except it's absolutely not a date, he swears, despite the fact it has all the makings of a perfect first date.

Warnings: Just all the fluffy goodness of friends to lovers. Some swearing because this is Frank we're talking about. Mild alcohol use. Author's questionable understanding of billiard rules.

AN: My first time writing Mr. Castle. I have a headcanon that Bucky goes to Curtis' veteran group therapy and I think he and Frank would be friends from that so both of those guys make an appearance. Feedback is always appreciated!

WC: 2151

The three flights of stairs up to your apartment leave you feeling winded even on a good day, but the complimentary glass of wine the waitress provided after feeling sorry for you buzzes through your system and couples with the twinge of disappointment, making the trek up to your home a feat akin to climbing Everest.

You fumble with your keys, but the knob on your front door gives way, no longer locked as you left it an hour before.

“If you’re gonna break and enter, at least lock it behind you,” you shout out, closing the front door behind you.

“Not breaking and entering if you give me a key,” a gruff voice answers back as you hang your now discarded jacket on an overcrowded hook in your entryway.

“A decision which I deeply regret,” you reply, entering the living room to find a familiar large man sprawled out on the sofa.

“Better than me breaking your window locks again …” his response cuts off as you enter the room, giving you a glance up and down. His brow furrows at the sight of you, more overdressed than usual, in front of him.

“What are you all dressed up for?” he asks

“I had a date. And it could have been a disaster if it had gone well and I brought him up here only to find my very intimidating and more-than-occasionally bleeding friend on my couch.” You gesture, taking note of the lack of open wounds on Frank’s body.

Finding Frank in your apartment was not an unusual occurrence, though it was always a surprise which state of distress he’d be in - whether he was dropping in for a friendly visit, or bleeding so profusely you weren’t sure the whole of the Red Cross’ supply could replenish him. Thank god, you didn’t also have to deal with stitching him up tonight.

“Okay. Clearly didn’t go well since you’re alone and it’s only 8:30,” he responds, checking his watch.

“Yeah well, he stood me up so…”

“You’re shitting me.” Frank's lips purse and his signature vacant stare glazes across his eyes.

“Nope,” you sigh, flopping down beside him. Your relationship with him so comfortable that you don’t even register the change in his expression, let alone fear it. You nudge your knee against his, attempting to reclaim some personal space from his massive frame currently dominating your tiny New York apartment. Frank does not yield, too focused on the tale of your love-life’s misfortunes.

“What a shithead. What’s his name?”

“Frank, no.” you say sternly.

“I just want to talk to him.”

“Yeah sure, talk to him.” you give air quotes, “Talk to him with your favorite shotgun.”

“Pfft don’t need a gun to let him know what I think. Fists’ll do just fine.”

“Well if the Punisher is suddenly going after scumbags who stand up women on dates instead of your usual criminals, I’m happy to provide a whole list.” you say dryly

Frank swallows thickly, fingers mindlessly plucking at his jeans as fury begins to grow inside him.

“Really? There’s more than one idiot standin’ someone like you up?” he gestures to how well you’ve cleaned up for the evening, letting his gaze linger on the way your outfit clings to your body.

“Apparently a very good majority of men in this city,” you respond with a shrug, trying not to notice the way his intense stare follows you to the kitchen as you stand again. Your fridge is embarrassingly empty and you mentally curse yourself for not doing any food shopping this week as a small gurgle rises in your stomach.

Frank cracks his knuckles and shakes his head and you swear you hear something similar to “assholes” mumbled under his breath.

“You hungry?” you ask “Cause I didn’t eat anything at the restaurant while I waited for that jerk, and now I’m starving. I’m gonna order something if you want?”

“Nah. Don’t order in tonight.” he replies, planting his weighty boots on the area rug and pushing against his thick thighs to stand.

“Frank, I’m starving, why not?”

“Cause we’re going out. You got all dressed up and I’m not gonna let some fucker ruin your night.” he explains, a mischievous spark dancing in his dark eyes.

“I am not letting you take me on a pity date, Frank.” you argue, cringing at the thought

“Not a date. But you’re hungry, I’m hungry. So let’s go somewhere.”

“Fine. Where are we going?” you resign, knowing there is no arguing with him once his mind is made up.

____________________________________

The small windows of the bar are caked in a layer of dust that matches the brown shade of the sticky wood floor Frank leads you across. The chatter from the handful of the evening’s patrons is punctuated by the occasional glass shattering from a barback tossing an empty beer bottle in the trash and the whack of cue poles hitting pool balls in the corner, where you and Frank are currently locked in a heat battle with two of Frank’s “fellow FUBAR veteran group” friends (as he lovingly introduced them.)

Deviating from a normal situation with you two, no one gives a second glance at Frank, worn jacket slung across his large frame and mud-crusted boots not even garnering a raised eyebrow from the several patrons seated at the bar top, all of whom in some way resemble the cast you’d see in b-grade cop show. Your chosen ensemble for your defunct date stands out among the casual crowd, prompting a few glances every once in a while from a passing handsome stranger. Frank does not hesitate to display a particularly harsh scowl, causing them to scuttle away in regret for even looking at you.

Frank’s calloused hands sneak a french fry off your half-eaten plate as you rosin up the cue pole, racking your brain for how you’re going to proceed strategically.

“Kay sweetheart, Curt and Barnes are up a point, so all you need to do is sink the 13 or the 9 and we can beat em’.”

“Angle’s too tight on the 13,” you respond “I think I can make the 9, but I’m not loving how close the 8 ball is.”

“You can do it, we just gotta get you lined up right. Here…” Frank ambles over to you, carefully bracketing his arms around you and guiding your hands into position. His broad chest barely sweeps against your back as he leans over you, sending an icy shudder down your spine. Usually so steady and precise, you swear you see his hands tremble for a moment as they rest on top of yours, lining up your shot with his military-trained eye for accuracy.

His breath is hot on your neck as he mumbles “All you” into your ear and takes a step back, the nearness of his body to yours stringing tension in thick spider-webbed threads between you.

“Kay, 9 ball. Right corner pocket,” you announce, throat suddenly feeling dry. You take a deep breath, over compensating for your current shortness on air, before pulling your elbow back and releasing.

A sharp crack rings out as the cue makes direct contact with its mark. The 9 ball wizzes across the green velvet, narrowly avoiding the 8, before sinking cleanly into the intended target. You jump up with a “whoop!” as Frank wraps his strong arms around you in celebration.

“Atta girl!” he cheers and you’re buzzing, though whether it’s the joy of victory or the way Frank is currently enveloping you and your senses, you can’t say.

Bucky and Curtis groan in frustration. As Bucky steps up to rerack the game, Curtis speaks up.

“You know you surprised me. The way Frank’s always describing you, had me thinking you’d be more demure and shy. You’re really more than he gives you credit for.”

“You talk about me at group?” you whip around to Frank, who stepped toward the back wall to take a swig of his beer.

“Mighta mentioned you in passing.” he shrugs, fiddling with the label of the bottle.

“Can’t get him to shut up about you.” Curtis replies

“C’mon Curt!” Frank rolls his eyes

“What else does he say about me?” you turn back to Curtis and a broad grin spreads across his face.

“Reracked and ready for round 2.” Bucky announces

“Barnes has an unfair advantage with that roboarm.” Frank complains, hoping to deviate the current subject away.

“I think Curtis and I are at a disadvantage going up against two of the best sharpshooters the country’s ever known,” you argue back, Frank’s attempt at changing the subject nearly working to take your mind off Curtis’ comments.

“Yeah well, only one of us isn’t a hundred.” Frank steps forward to take his shot and Curtis uses it to his advantage, leaning in to speak only in your ear.

“He says you’re the first thing that makes him feel good about himself since Maria and the kids died. Like he’s got a purpose for himself instead of just existing to be the Punisher. Those of us in the profession like to call that hope.”

Heat rises in your cheeks as Curtis steps away to go order another round at the bar, his words lingering in your mind as you glance over to Frank. His dark eyes meet yours, then he clears his throat, and quickly turns his attention to Bucky, who is circling the pool table with deep concentration. You swear you see a dopey smile growing on his face as he looks at the floor, avoiding your gaze.

____________________________________

The wind is loud in your ears as Frank’s motorcycle weaves and zips through the New York streets. You grip tightly to his back and breath in the hints of his woody aftershave mixed with the remnants of gunpowder still engrained in the fibers of his jacket. The Brooklyn Bridge looms large above as you cross over it, making your way back towards your apartment.

“Tonight was fun, Castle. You bring all your first dates to such a romantic spot?” you ask as you and Frank stroll down the sidewalk, stretching out the steps it takes to walk from his bike, which he parked an entire block away in a not-so-subtle act of extending the evening, to your front door.

“Told you sweetheart, that wasn’t a date. And no, I got a little more class than that,” His hands shoved in his pockets as the crisp evening air stings against a still healing bruise on his left cheek bone.

“So where do you usually take your first dates?” you ask

“Italian. There was a little place in Hell Kitchen that I used to take Maria to, but it’s been closed for years now. Gotta find a new spot.”

Frank has never shyed away from bringing up his family with you. You love that he feels comfortable enough with you to do that and he’s made it clear one of the reasons he keeps you around is because you don’t “get all weird” around him when it does come up.

“Well this is my building.” you say with a nod of your head towards the front door. He knows that and you know he knows that, but still you weren’t quite sure what to say as the evening is clearly coming to it’s end.

Deep, dark eyes meet yours and you both stare for a moment, before he cups your jaw and draws your face close to his. His lips are soft, even hesitant as they meet yours gently. He doesn’t linger, but pulls away just enough to give you the choice about what happens next.

“You kissed me,” you comment, lips still hovering inches from his as a giddy smile tugs at the corners of your mouth.

“Yeah, that’s what you do at the end of a date when it goes well. Know I’ve been outta practice for a while now, but didn’t think that part changed much.” The boyish charm you know hides behind such an intimidating man now appearing behind his soft stare and lopsided grin.

“I thought this wasn’t a date.”

“Shit. I did say that, didn’t I?”

“I like Italian.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” you respond nodding your head “So take me for Italian. On an actual date. And if it goes well, kiss me again.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.” you confirm with another soft peck on his lips.

And for many years later, the number one argument in your relationship is which evening actually counted as your first date and which day your anniversary actually is. Frank lets you win that argument every time though. As embarrassed as he is when you tell people your first date was at a “seedy, Brooklyn dive bar no rational girl would’ve called him back after” (instead of the very romantic Italian spot he picked the next night,) it meant that you were his and that’s all that mattered.

[thalialunacy]

[for the @calaisreno May Prompt-a-palooza; cw for bodily functions]

(1) (2) (3) (4) 5: awkward (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22) (23) (24) (25) (26) (27) (28) (29) (30) (31)

Sharing a home with someone, regardless of square footage or relationship, involves an unavoidable amount of intimate physical knowledge. As an army mate of John's had once said eloquently, 'Well, I know what your shit smells like, don't I?'

Those things, John is prepared for. Has got used to, even, in his once-and-future living arrangement. He's a doctor, a combat veteran, and a widowed father. He's not exactly squeamish.

And he can personally attest, on several levels, to the fact that Sherlock is not a machine. You can't share a bathroom and not learn a few things about a person.

But… it's like some switch got turned on after their 'moment' in the stairwell.

(Because no, they had not marched back upstairs and worked things out per Mrs Hudson's request. As will shock no one, they had instead gone on their stubborn ways, and are ploughing through their daily lives willy-nilly as long as they can.)

(Which is not very long.)

Things keep happening.

- John, sitting guilelessly at the table, makes to stand just as Sherlock is walking by, and ends up with his nose essentially in the armpit of Sherlock's dressing gown. Which Sherlock is still wearing. After sleeping several hours in it and old pyjamas.

- John, Rosie in his lap, snorts awake to find himself-- well, both him and his daughter-- slumped into Sherlock on the sofa, credits scrolling on the television screen while Sherlock scrolls through his phone. And, unfortunately, both John and his daughter have managed to leave sleep-warm saliva on Sherlock's person, in two round spots on his breathtakingly expensive shirt. Sherlock, who must have noticed, seems unconcerned. John wonders briefly if he's woken up in an alternate dimension, then realises they'd been watching Doctor Who and it must have seeped into his psyche.

- John, now one hundred percent accustomed to wiping his toddler's nose, is so focused on his laptop screen when he hears a sneeze that he doesn't think (at all) before pulling out a tissue and reaching over to the face of the sneezer. That it's Sherlock is only a fact he recognises a split second too late.

- John, brain uncaffeinated, yawns while reaching across Sherlock to grab something off the table, and realises with a start that it's 6am and neither of them have cleaned their teeth. He stares at the mouth so close to his, at the man whose breath is bitter, yes, but somehow not unagreeable, then jerks away gracelessly. 'I'll just--' He points his thumb over his shoulder at the loo, and escapes, face flaming.

- And finally: John, going quietly mad when Rosie gets her first real, frightening fever. His training doesn't stand a chance of overriding his lizard brain, so he spends three days ignoring absolutely all personal hygiene and never leaving his daughter's side. When it finally breaks, when John feels like he can breathe again, he notices Sherlock is there, too, beside him, quietly watching her sleep restfully for the first time in what feels like long, dusty years. And he suddenly realises he must smell like -- well, like a locker room and a crowded pub rolled around in the dirt then pissed off a skunk, probably. And Sherlock is standing next to him as if he smells like roses. This, unexpectedly, makes John's stomach broil under a surge of affection, and he feels his eyes stinging for one horrifying, sleep-deprived moment.

Soon, after so many of these things, he can't help wondering if God or whomever is taking the piss. If fate is having a good old go at John H Watson by giving him the closest, most fulfilling relationship he's ever had-- and making it with the one person who can knock him flat on his arse and keep him there.

He's tempted, more than once, to give the sky two fingers. But he has yet to get around to doing it. He's too busy, for once, actually living.

[❤️]