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thedo0zyslider · 6 months

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Thunderstorms and Thieves - 6k Words

One stormy night, a Bandit wakes a Sheriff with a knock at his front door, and they don’t talk about what happens after.

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"It's two in the morning, Martyn. Why are you at my house?" Jimmy says, giving his least favorite bandit an exasperated look. A loud knocking on his door had woken the Sheriff up early in the morning. Safe to say, he was not pleased to find the knocker to be Martyn, instead of someone else he actually liked.

"I just stole like, ten pounds of gold from Stratos," The Bandit says, two very heavy looking sacks being held in both his hands. They seemed to be weighing him down quite a fair bit, his shoulder hunched downwards with their weight. The Sheriff has to wonder how he carried that down a floating island and all the way to the mesa. "Mind if I hide out here?”

The rain is also pouring, Jimmy might add. So it makes him look even more pathetic and soaked, like some kinda soppy stray cat left out to die. Almost like Martyn had made it rain himself, because he knew it would tug on the Sheriff's heart strings a little. Maybe that's why he stole from Stratos, to make a thunderstorm happen.

"Stealing from Joel is really funny," Jimmy begins, eyeing Martyn up and down. He's going to make the conversation as long as possible, just so the other blonde can get more cold and miserable. As cruel as that may seem, and how wrong it may feel. "But you're also a wanted criminal in my town. I should arrest you right here and now.”

"The jail is open at two am, innit it?" Martyn mumbled with a sigh, clutching his bag of gold tighter. His hair was plastered to his skull by now, and Jimmy was starting to feel slightly bad. Which meant the criminals' dastardly plan was working, dammit.

"Yes. But I don't want to walk in the pouring rain." Jimmy says, moving out of the doorway where he had been standing. "So I guess you can stay 'till mornin’ time.”

"Oohhh~ getting to sleep with the Sheriff. How lucky am I?" Martyn smirked, leaning forward a bit more. And subsequently had the front door slammed on his face. It was far too early, or perhaps late, for all of that.

Though a minute later, he opened the door again, the Sheriff's empathy having overridden his common sense once more. And seeing Martyn still standing there, even more soaked than before, well that wasn’t helping. Damn the rain and his sense of right and wrong, damn them both.

Jimmy moved out of the doorway again with a heavy sigh, knowing he'd probably regret this come morning time. “C'mon.” He mumbled, and led the bandit into his house. The blonde also mentally prepared himself to have all his valuables stolen when he woke up again, thrown right in the bags with all of Joel’s taken gold.

Martyn follows behind him after a bewildered second, his movements a little cautious. And as soon as he steps in, there is water drenching Jimmy’s nice wooden floor. He should have been anticipating that really, with how hard it was raining, but he still internally groaned and grumbled over the wet wood and the possible water damage.

“Let's get you a few towels, yeah?” Jimmy says over his shoulder, already walking into the living area. He hears the click of a door behind him, and a few slow footsteps after it. Like Martyn can't believe he'd got what he asked for. Like the Sheriff would actually leave him out there to get rained on and get sick and whatnot. He wasn't that heartless, now was he.

“Yeah…” Martyn mumbles out a response, setting his two bags of treasure down with a low thunk . Jimmy ignores the sound, and whatever other noise his guest makes, and heads towards the bathroom. He figures he'll need at least four towels, with how drenched Martyn and with how heavy the rain was falling. So he grabs as many as he can, and heads back out to the living room.

When he returns, Martyn is standing right by his stolen goods. He hadn't moved an inch, likely not wanting to ruin any of the Sheriff’s furniture. Or the rest of his floor. Jimmy walks over, silently relieved that his couch has stayed dry, and wonders just what he's going to do with this criminal come morning.

“Here.” He says, handing Martyn one of the towels. Before the other can even respond, he's already placing two more on the floor around his feet, hoping it does something for the now soaked wood. It probably won't, and he'll probably have to inspect his floor later, but a man can hope.

“Thanks.” The Bandit replies, clutching the towel in his hands for a second. He seems awkward, standing in Jimmy’s house late at night. The Sheriff can't blame him, he knows he would be off put if the roles were reversed and he was in Martyn’s house. They are kinda enemies, after all. Kinda being the keyword there. They don't act like a Sheriff and a pesky criminal are supposed to, and both men are very painfully self aware of that fact.

Neither of them say anything, as the thief starts to dry himself off. They just let the awkward silence and the sounds of rain fill the space as Martyn begins to move. The first thing he does is remove his boots, a gross squelching sound accompanying the motion. Jimmy cringes at it, and hopes there isn't too much water in there. The blonde seems to reserve a towel for just that, soaking up any water in his shoes, before moving onto his wet face coverings. The masks that usually covered his face were just as drenched as the rest of him, and had to be uncomfortably sticking to his face. Distantly, the Sheriff wondered if the other was even comfortable showing his whole face around him, and finds that question will be answered as soon as he asks it.

Martyn slips his mask off, well, er, his masks . There's one covering his eyes, which is the first to be removed. It's the one he only wears on occasion, when he's not thieving locally. The authorities in the mesa know to look for him, regardless of what he wears on his face. The other mask, the one hiding the bottom half of his face, is the mask that never comes off when he's on the job. And Jimmy can't help but stare when he slips it off, and throws it on one of the wet towels below.

He's never…..he's never seen Martyn’s full face before. It's quite a pretty face, even when only slivers of it are showing. And the full thing is absolutely gorgeous. His face looked soft and plump to the touch kike the rest of him, his rounded yet sharp features seemingly perfectly molded to fit him. Like the blonde had been sculptured by a God themselves, one that wasn't stuck on floating islands. Jimmy would be lying if he said the wet hair, falling right onto Martyn’s face, wasn't adding to the effect.

Lord this man was pretty. He was so, so fucking pretty. The Sheriff couldn't stop himself from staring just a bit.

Martyn noticed him staring after a minute, drying his wet hair best he could with the towel he'd been lended. “What?” He asked quietly, glancing up. They made eye contact, and the Sheriff felt his breath hitch just a little bit. His eyes were very blue, and very nice to get lost in.

“N-nothing, let’s just…” He mumbled, face burning, forcing his eyes away from the criminals and back to the floor. “Let’s just get you dry, okay?”

Martyn raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment on how red the Sheriff’s face must be. “Okay.” He mumbled, running the towel he was holding through his hair once again.

Jimmy cleared his throat rather awkwardly, then backed away a bit. “I'll…go get you a change of clothes.” He explained, heading back towards the bathroom. His bedroom was right next to it, and he made a mental note to snag an extra towel on his way back. Just in case.

“Okay, thanks again.” Martyn says, muffled as he finally starts to dry his face. Properly this time, more than just slipping the wet and gross fabric off his face.

“Don't mention it.” He calls over his shoulder, and disappears into his room for a few minutes. He digs through his dresser for a lot longer than intended, all his old and now unused clothes a little buried in the drawers. But he does find them. And eventually Jimmy walks back out, another towel in his hands as well as some gray sweatpants that are far too big for him and a faded t-shirt. He thinks it was a cream color at one point, but now it's turned into some weird off white color after years of use. He hadn't worn it since he became Sheriff, now always wearing his work uniform, and was sure Martyn wouldn't mind the band clothes. His other option was soaking wet, after all.

“You can get changed in the bathroom.” He says, handing the clothes for the bandit; once their face to face again that is. Martyn has left the drenched towels on the floor in the neatest pile he can, while being dried off the best he can. His shirt has been unbuttoned somewhere in the process, and is showing some of his chest. Jimmy tries not to stare, and keeps his gaze pointedly fixed on the other’s face.

“Yeah, okay.” Martyn hums out a response, reaching down to pick up the drenched fabric from the floor. He doesn't quite know what to say, and the Sheriff doesn't either. So he lets the other man scurry off in silence, dry clothes and wet towels alike clutched in his arms as he goes ro get changed. Jimmy watches him go for a few moments, before turning back to the rest of the room. There's still some stuff to handle in here as well, even with the perpetrator gone for the next few minutes.

There's still wet floorboards and bags of gold to take care of, but Jimmy can really only do something about the latter at the moment. So that's what he does, temporarily alone in his living room and the rain still falling outside. He crouches down, and opens the bag of gold. It needed to get sorted sooner or later, and now is a pretty good time to do so. The blonde might even be able to return some of the riches to Joel and curb his anger a bit, if he's lucky.

He tips the bags on their sides gently, ears flicking as the treasures inside them clink with every movement. Martyn might’ve been right with his estimate of ten pounds, both bags required a good bit of effort to push over. Nothing too strenuous, but enough to make him wonder exactly what was in there. And there was only one way to answer that question as well.

He retrieves a few pieces of treasure from the first bag, inspecting them before setting them to the side. If he's going to sort through this much stolen gold, he's gonna need an organization system. Especially since of the few things he pulled out, half of them are far more valuable than their counterparts. He wonders how the bandit got all this, and where he even went to get it. Stratos wasn't a small empire by any means, and hard riches scattered across all its upper islands. Either the elf knew where the vault was, or he was really good at stealing from multiple buildings in one night. Both of those options seemed very likely, knowing the man's track record and his rather impressive lock picking skills. (Which I'd why Jimmy wouldn't have taken him to the jail anyways, because he'd have to sit in there all night to make sure the prisoner actually stayed in his cell. )

“What're you doin'?” Martyn asked, now standing in the doorway once more. He had managed to walk out of the bathroom unnoticed, probably because of all the sneaking around one of his jobs required. Jimmy looked up in surprise at the sound, and nearly dropped the gold he was currently holding.

Martyn stood there, somehow snug in clothes that shouldn't fit him. He looked…. nice in the Sheriff's stray t-shirt and sleep pants. He looked really nice actually. Enough that Jimmy had to stop himself from staring. Not to say he didn't look good in his normal outfit, no, Martyn looked good in practically anything . Jimmy felt his cheeks starting to turn red again, and had to look back to all the gold scattered across the floor and towels. He could think about why the Bandit looked so good in his clothes later, when he didn't have pounds and pounds upon stolen goods still sitting in his house.

“I thought I would sort through the gold.” Jimmy explained, separating another small pile of it with his hands. “Try and return some of it, to get Joel off your back a bit.”

“Thanks.” Martyn blinked, sounding surprised at the last bit. Like the Sheriff would never help him with his crimes. And yeah, he was a criminal, but he was one of the few people that hated the Sky God with a passion. And those people gotta look out for each other, in Jimmy’s mind, to keep each other from getting struck by lightning. Or maybe that was his poor defense for actually liking the bandit. Just a little bit.

“Lemme help you.” Martyn says after a moment, crouching next to the Sheriff. Close enough that they could touch, if they really wanted too. Jimmy feels their tails brush for a minute, and hesitantly flicks his own away. The bandit says nothing, just opens the second bag of gold and gets to work. He seems to have already understood the Sheriff’s organization method, quickly tossing the items into their correct piles. Jimmy blinks, a little impressed, and decides to get back to work. They can't get this over with quickly if he just stares all day, like some kind of idiot. And the staring would probably make Martyn uncomfortable, which he doesn't want, if he wants the other to stay in his house. Not that he wants Martyn to stay over, no, never that. He would just…..feel bad if he kicked him back out into the worsening storm. Yeah, yeah, that's all.

The two of them sorted through the stolen goods in near silence for several minutes, the sound of the storm outside becoming a nice ambience. The rain beat down in the windows, seeming to pick up in its intensity. Jimmy has to wonder if Joel has already discovered the crime, or if he's still asleep. If he has, then the storm is truly getting worse. If he hasn't, then it will worsen before dawn and maybe continue its anger into the next day.

The God of the Sky wasn't very pleasant when crossed, and the Sheriff had plenty of first hand experience and needless damage to his town to back that up.

The gold was sorted into three piles. The first was for plain ole golden coins, ones used for paying people with. The second was for actual treasures, the things embedded with diamonds and other gemstones. There was a fair amount of jewelry in here, jewelry the Sheriff is sure Joel never wore, so he wondered just what exactly the God was doing with all of this, other than just letting it sit around and collect dust probably.

The third pile was a miscellaneous pile. Anything that didn't quite fit into the previous piles went there. Any damaged coins or trinkets, ones that weren't worth much anymore, were the main contents of the pile. Plus any item they were unsure about. This pile was definitely going back to Joel, and he didn't even need to ask Martyn to know that. It would probably be the only pile left unstolen from as well, unless the thief sees something shiny or cool looking in the scarps that he wants.

There's quite a few things in here Jimmy himself will be keeping, at least until Joel comes storming by. Items Martyn probably didn’t mean to steal, based on their appearance. And he finds one in the first bag, buried under more coins than the Sheriff’s ever seen in his life. For a brief second before he finds the item, he truly considers pocketing some gold all for himself. He thinks about taking a couple hundred and then blaming it on Martyn, because he knows the God would probably believe him, his hatred for theft stronger than his distaste for the Sheriff. But the thought causes guilt to shoot through him, even if he is stealing from Joel , one of the richest men in the world, and he has to put all the treasure back in its correct pile. Before he does something he truly regrets, since letting a known criminal into his home apparently isn't one of those things anymore.

“This isn't Joel’s” Jimmy says into the silence, after picking up a small pedant; the item that's buried under all those coins he kinda wanted to steal. It was made of gold, like the rest of the treasures were, but in the middle was a small H. And there was only one person on those islands to whom this thing could belong too.

“Oh,” Martyn says, catching sight of the small necklace in Jimmy’s hand. Guilt flashes across the bandit’s face when he sees the small H in the pendent, and he frowns. Martyn won't steal from children, a fact the Sheriff mentally notes down for no particular reason at all. “I didn't mean to steal from Hermes.”

“Figured.” Jimmy says, separating the pendant from the other three piles. That's the fourth pile now, in case something else of Hermes’ had ended up in those two bags. Which is a real possibility, because he knows half of this stuff is from at least three different floating islands. “I'll keep it, and give it back to Joel when he comes by.”

Martyn goes back sorting with a question, his tail now comfortably resting closer to his side. “How do you know he'll come by?”

“Because he knows you live here, and will accuse me of stealing. Or sending you to steal it.” Jimmy says, already imagining the things he'll be called come morning, right as the stolen goods pass through his fingers. Heh, if Joel knew about this, they'd both get stuck to hell and back by lightning. Probably. Especially if he found out about Hermes’ pendant.

“Fair point.” Martyn huffs, having sorted about one third of his bag by now. Jimmy is momentarily surprised at his speed, and then remembered the life he lives and how many bags of treasures he's probably had to sort through while on the run. “I thought you didn't like his kid, though.”

“I'm not gonna steal from a little kid.” The Sheriff flicks his ear, annoyed for a very brief second. He thinks Hermes is an annoying little brat, but he won't steal from her. He's like, not even ten. And if Sausage gave him that pendant, then that's another emperor he would have pissed off in taking it. And both Joel and Sausage are already scary enough on their own, nevermind combined. “I'm not that mean.”

He changes the conversation topic with a huff, giving Martyn an inquiring look. “Why'd you steal from Joel anyways?” He wants to know why the puny, bandit mortal is picking fights with the local God, other than shits and giggles.

“Because he's an asshole. No one deserves that much gold, especially not assholes.” Martyn mutters grimly, sounding like he has personal experience with some rich assholes. Jimmy makes a mental note of that, and files it away for later. “I don't like how he vandalizes the town either.”

“You know those are all targeted at me, right?” Jimmy asks, raising an eyebrow. He sorts through another handful of golds, pushing it to the side and keeping it far away from Hermes’ stuff.

“Yeah. And?” Martyn raises his own eyebrow in turn, sorting more gold into the second pile without even looking.

“...Nothin’.” Jimmy mutters, feeling the way his breath hitches a little. He decides they're done talking for now, actually, lest he get even more flustered than he already is. This gold won't sort itself after all, and talking just slows them down. He ignores how Martyn is near halfway through his bag when he thinks that, and he's just got to the one third mark with his. Yep, talking sure slows them down. Yep…

They keep sorting in silence, listening to nothing but the falling rain and the clinking of sorting coins. The Bandit begins to hum a steady tune to himself, and Jimmy could not help but work to the beat. It certainly made everything go a lot quicker, so much so that he didn't even notice the other man had finished sorting through his bag. The elf there for a minute, looking at the piles of his loot, before he makes up his mind and turns his attention to the Sheriff.

“Lemme help, it'll go quicker.” Martyn mumbled, scooting over. Scooting a lot closer . Like enough that the two men were near flushed against each other. And Jimmy was being very normal about a pretty man sitting mere centimeters away from him. He's very, very normal about it, thank you very much. Totally not red in the face or anything….

“...Okay.” He said, ear flicking a few times. Martyn just gave a nod, grabbed some gold, and started sorting. Jimmy tried to do the same, but found the task had suddenly gotten a lot harder, all thanks to the elf presence. How close they were….closer than they'd ever been. For a fleeting second, the Sheriff dumbly wonders why he was feeling all this stuff and getting so flustered, over Martyn of all people. Then he remembers how the other is dressed at the moment, and suddenly understands all over again, another trinket being sorted into the pile as he does.

Their hands kept brushing as they worked, and Jimmy tried his damn best to ignore it. It was pretty hard after all, since they were sitting side by side and working together. But Martyn never said anything, only occasionally hummed to himself as he sorted through who knows how many pieces of gold. Jimmy tried to help best he could, even in his flustered state. He wasn’t able to do much, with his current state of mind and also how fast Martyn was with this whole sorting thing. It feels like the blonde did most of the work actually, for both of them, which bothered the Sheriff just a little. He didn't really like being unhelpful, or deadweight, but there wasn't really anything he could do about it. Plus he was far too tired too, considering it was probably nearing three in the morning now. Maybe even four, with how long they'd be at this and how much golf they'd had to sort.

It seems, as they finish going through the bags, that Joel has finally become aware of what's happened. It took him a good few hours, but still. Outside, the rain gets even heavier, and it sounds like hail pounding against the window. The God has to be right pissed then, to make the storm that much worse. Suddenly, thunder sounds off in the distance, making the Sheriff jump a little. Martyn’s reaction to the noise, however, is a lot more intense.

The Bandit jumps, dropping the last pieces of gold he's holding and scattering them all across the floor. His tail curls in, and his pointed ears flatten back in what has to be fear. The Sheriff gives him a surprised blink, and scoots a little closer before he even realizes what he's doing.

"Are....are you okay?" Jimmy asks, hesitantly reaching out. He didn’t touch Martyn, but lingered a few inches away, in case doing so would scare him even more. The blonde wasn't sure if that was a normal reaction to random lightning, or something more serious. Though he felt like it was the latter.

"Yeah I just..." Martyn mutters shakily, clearly trying to steady his breaths. "I just don't like thunderstorms…” He runs a hand through his probably damp hair, like the action is grounding or comforting to him. Jimmy scoots even closer, resting his hand a mere inches away from Martyn’s other one, the one still resting by the lingering pieces of gold.

"Oh, okay.” Jimmy mumbles. The bandit seems surprised by his easy acceptance, like he expected to be called dumb or childish for his fear. It’s the surprised glance he gives Jimmy that really gives it away, and Jimmy decides he won’t have that. Still being scared of storms is very valid to him, especially when you're regularly upsetting the God of the Sky.

“I'm still freaked out by dogs.” He offers, hoping it provides some kind of comfort. Martyn blinks at him a few times, puzzled, as he begins to shuffle the gold he’s taking (which is most of it) into the bags. Only the things for Hermes’ remain untouched, and a few hundred to a thousand, give or take. Jimmy had still pocketed none for himself.

“Why?” The bandit asks after a quiet moment, seeming to realize what the other is trying to do. It took him a good few minutes, but he got there eventually.

Jimmy shrugs, watching as the two bags become full of Stratos’ gold one more. He wonders how much money is truly in those bags, and if Martyn had really hit the jackpot like he appeared to have. “Dunno, just never liked ‘em. Especially the big ones.”

“And now you have cats.” Martyn noted, halfway done with his work already. The Sheriff half wonders if they’ve lost a few pieces of gold to the floorboards, or if any were lost to the rain. He sleepily wonders if there’s a trail of gold leading Joel right to his doorstep.

“Yep. They're probably hiding from the rain.” He mumbles, a small giggle escaping him. His two cats, Norman and Flick, were very silly little things. They also hated rain, like Martyn, and would probably emerge from their hiding place as soon as the storm was over, begging to be fed and played with.

“Neither of them are scared of me?” The bandit says, curious. It makes sense why he’d think the cats were scared of him, since they hadn’t seen hide nor hair of either of them since the blonde had arrived. Thinking about it, the Sheriff had barely seen them since before he originally went to sleep, as they were being skittish that day. Maybe they'd sensed the upcoming storm…

“Nah, they're pretty friendly to people. Not dogs though.” Jimmy says, remembering how friendly his boys were. It wasn’t unusual to see them hanging around town, or his office, getting all the pets and attention from anyone they could while the Sheriff was hard at work. The spoiled little things they were…but they were his number two and three deputies for a good reason. And it wasn’t just the fact that they were cute, Jimmy sowre that up and down whenever anyone asked, and he wasn't going to stop insisting that now.

Martyn giggled at that, but is promptly interrupted by another loud clap of thunder. The elf jumped once again, tail flicking wildly behind him, and it sounded like he cut himself off from screaming. Jimmy’s eyes widened, and he moved even closer to the other out of concern. Thankfully, all the gold was now done being sorted, so none had gone flying when Martyn jumped this time. Thankfully, the Sheriff thought as the elf pressed against this side, their work was done and they could finally rest. Maybe spare Martyn some feat and sleep through the rest of this storm.

“You can sleep on the couch, if you'd like?” He offers after a few minutes of sitting, the two men pressed together, now that the gold is all put away and the bandit’s nerves are starting to calm a bit. It’s late, raining, and would probably benefit both of them if they went to sleep now.

“Y-Yeah, that would be-” Martyn stammers, and is cut off by a loud strike of lighting this time. And after seeing how he reacted for a third time, after seeing the way he jumps and his whole body goes rigid with fear, the Sheriff knows he just can’t let him sleep on the couch like he originally suggested. He can’t leave this poor man to face his fear alone, especially with the extra knowledge that a pissed off God (who also hates the both of them, no less,) is causing it.

“Nevermind.” Jimmy sighs, grabbing the Bandit’s hand. Martyn startles at the touch, but lets it happen. He leans into it, actually, if Jimmy isn't imagining things. “I can't just leave you alone.” He manages to pull them both up from the floor, and ignores the way the elves face turns a bit red at his strength. That's one of the million other things from tonight he'll have to think about later, it seems.

“Thanks..” The blonde mumbles, letting himself be pulled towards the bedroom without much complaint. Which was a little unsettling actually, because this was the type of thing he'd make some inappropriate joke about. Maybe reprise his earlier remark about sleeping with the Sheriff and how lucky he is. But Martyn says nothing, and is perfectly content to stay silent as they enter the bedroom.

It's a bit awkward at first, when both of them sit on the bed. But the storm makes another noise, lighting or thunder Jimmy couldn't tell, and the bandit jumps once more. Next thing both of them know, Martyn’s pressed himself up against the Sheriff in his temporary panic, looking for anything that was warm and comforting. Apparently, Jimmy was the latter thing to him. Another thing he could think about later, after the night was long over.

Jimmy makes a comforting humming sound, because if Martyn thinks he's comforting he's going to be so, dammit. The Bandit is curled into his side, kinda like a cat, ears flattened from the loud sounds of the storm outside. Without either of them noticing, his tail ends up tied with Jimmy’s, and the Sheriff doesn't care when he does notice. It's actually kinda….nice, being this close to Martyn, regardless if the others fear. He wonders if the blonde thinks this is nice, and if it would nicer on any other night. A normal one, without stolen gold and a raging storm, a night just for them to spend together alone.

“Any reason why you're scared of thunderstorms, or….?” He mumbles, resting his cheek against the other’s head. He's tried and ready to go back to sleep, so the bandit will have to be a good pillow for the next little while. He does have work in the morning, after all, like he has every day….

“I just….always have been since I was little.” Martyn hums. He sounds throughly rattled, and tries to get closer to the Sheriff with every loud noise. Noises that are probably louder for both of them, due to being hybrids and having better hearing and all that stuff. Jimmy knows the thunder and lighting hurts his ears a bit, and can't even imagine how loud it might be for poor Martyn.

“Mm, okay.” He mumbles in response, eyelids starting to droop as he once again remembers his own childhood fear of dogs that'd stuck around. Yeah, Jimmy could feel his brain shutting down, and the rest of his body begging for the sleep it probably really, really needed. Which was the Sheriff’s sign to start slowly laying the both of them down, Martyn still snugg aganist him as his own head hit the pillow. “Try to sleep?”

“Yeah, I'll try.” The bandit mumbles, and stays tense for the next few minutes. And Jimmy know he won't be able to sleep if Martyn can't, and just lays there upset on his arms. So, after a little hesitantion he starts running his fingers through slightly damp hair, an action that he hopes will calm both of them down, and lull the two gently into sleep. Normally, the Sheriff doesn't think he'd be doing any of this, but it's like, three am and he'd gone to bed late. He's functioning on an interrupted four hours of sleep, and doesn’t have the brain capacity to think why being so affectionate with Tumble Town’s most troublesome bandit might be a bad idea, actually. That , like a lot of other things, sounds like a thought and a problem for morning Jimmy.

Thankfully, maybe due to the touch, Martyn relaxes despite the roaring storm outside. His breathing slowly but surely evens out, and before Jimmy knows it, the blonde is fast asleep beside him. Sleepily, a smile forces its way onto Jimmy’s face, and within the next minute or so, he’s fallen asleep as well; fully comfortable in the presence of a criminal. (He doesn’t mind it, he finds as he drifts off, even though he should. Something about this one is very, very different, he thinks. In a good way, a way he wants to cherish and keep close, despite everything. Despite all the stolen gold in his living room….)

__________________________________

In the morning, the Sheriff wakes up to the two of them tangled together. Sometime when they were sleeping, Martyn had ended up laying his head on the cow’s chest. He’s sound asleep, and snoring gently on top of it. Jimmy holds back a noise of amusement at that, and spares a glance at the window. The storm has calmed since they went to bed, and it seems to be past sunrise already. He doesn’t feel very well rested, not after his early morning interruption, but he’s awake and has stuff to do today. Feeling well rested is a luxury for a certain type of people, and Jimmy has never been one of them.

He starts to sit up slowly, feeling a little guilty for dislodging the person on top of him. Martyn barely even wakes up at the movement, most likely tried out of his mind from the previous night. He just snuggles closer to Jimmy, clinging onto him like a damn koala clings onto a tree, and buries his face back in the Sheriff’s chest. The Sheriff just makes another amused sound, and shifts again, hoping it would wake the bandit up this time.

Thankfully, that is finally what rouses Martyn from his slumber, though he doesn’t stop holding onto the Sheriff like a lifeline. He murmurs something into Jimmy’s shirt, something all bleary and unintelligible, and a surge of fondness goes through the Sheriff’s chest at the sound. Maybe he does actually like Martyn, just a little bit.

“Good mornin’” Jimmy mumbles quietly, pressing a quick kiss against his bandit's forehead. He feels his cheeks burn a little, and kinda wants to do it again.

Martyn doesn't notice the affection, too focused on snuggling even closer to the Sheriff. If that was possible. And he was probably too out of it as well, considering he woke up only a few seconds ago. “Morning….” He mumbles back sleepily, reaching up and pressing his face into the crook of Jimmy’s neck.

The blonde lets out a huff of fondness despite himself, and absentmindedly runs a hand though the others hair. “You gotta get up, I have work to do.” He mumbles into Martyn’s hair, already starting to shift the other off him.

Martyn makes a mumble of protest, putting a bit of a whine into his voice. The Sheriff had no idea he was this clingy before today, and was already thinking of how he could weigh this over the bandit in the future. In case he tried any of his more extreme shenanigans around the town. “But I'm tireddd.”

“C'mon, you know Joel's gonna be here by noon. And I can't get caught with a criminal in my bed.” Jimmy reasons, now properly sitting up. Martyn slides off him with a grumble, but doesn’t protest. He seems content to just lay in the sheets for a few minutes longer, still blinking the sleep away from his eyes.

“As far as that God and the people are concerned, I'm the bartender right now.” Martyn mumbles, his blue eyes meeting the Sheriff’s own for the first time that morning. There’s a small smile on his face, and the cow hybrid can’t help the warmth he feels upon seeing it.

“There's bags of gold in my living room.” He points out, gently poking the bandit on the forehead. Martyn scrunches up his nose in response, and makes yet another attempt to snuggle closer to him. Jimmy resists the urge to roll his eyes, and makes another point he’s pretty sure will work. “Fwhip's coming over at nine.”

“ Fine.” Martyn huffs, sitting up instantly. His own distaste for the deputy was enough to get him up, just as Jimmy suspected it would be. He wasn’t sure why the elf disliked Fwhip so much, but it was working in his favor right about now. The blonde is moving off the bed before even Jimmy is, his feet hitting the floor with a dull thud. The Sheriff watches him, curious, as Martyn prepares to leave for the day.

“I’ll get the gold and be gone in a few minutes.” Martyn says, doing some quick stretches. Likely in preparation for all the distance he'll have to cover with those bags in toe, even if Jimmy’s sure it's not a hard task for a bandit of his caliber. “Cover for me? When Joel comes by?” He fixes Jimmy with a look when he's done speaking, one the Sheriff knows he couldn't say no to, not in a million years; even if he was already going to agree in the first place. He kinda wants to get lost in it, if the blonde's being honest.

“Of course.” Jimmy nods, stretching a little himself. “You can keep the clothes by the way, I don’t wear them anymore.” He adds, once again finding himself flustered by the bandits outfit. He shoves the thoughts down as quickly as they come, and tries to focus on going along with his morning.

“Oh, thanks.” Martyn murmurs, sounding surprised. He slowly begins to shuffle towards the door, looking like he doesn't know what to say after last night and the last few minutes; now that their not as sleep deprived and bavk in their right minds. Which is understandable, there's a lot of things Jimmy wants to say as well, but doesn't know how. He really wishes he had the words for it though, because he felt important. He wonders if Martyn does too. “Well…..see you later.”

“Yeah….see you later.” Jimmy says, watching the other leave. He can't help but stare as the elf retreats, and the bedroom door shuts behind him. The sounds of moving fills the quiet house, the cats having yet to emerge from their hiding places. Or they hadn’t decided to be vocal yet, one of the two. More than likely, one of them (probably Flick) was intently staring at Martyn from some hiding spot and watching him leave, like the little weirdo he was.

There's the sound of the bandit shuffling around in the bathroom, probably retrieving his other clothes. Other clothes, because Jimmy’s old ones were now his. Judging by the sounds, he then moved into the living room, and started to carry his two bags of stolen gold out. The Sheriff had to wonder if Joel would even miss all that gold, or if he was just gonna make a fuss about it just to fuss. And throw insults at his two least favorite people, but that's a question for later in the day. Right now it is morning, and everything feels oddly still and somber as Martyn leaves his home. It's also far too quiet, but Jimmy makes no effort to change that. He doesn't know what sound would be appropriate to fill the silence. And so no one else, human or cat, made a sound as the house's temporary visitor departed.

Jimmy hears the front door click shut as he stands, and almost wishes he'd kissed the (his) bandit goodbye.

#ron.fic #jimmy solidarity #martyn inthelittlewood #mirror birds #solidwood #trafficshipping #empires smp #bandit au #empiresshipping #empires smp s2 #martyn littlewood #martyn itlw #inthelittlewood

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loserboyfriendrjl · 2 years

Text

"how did this happen?" marlene asked, dabbing at sirius' wound with a wet cloth.

it was stained red.

sirius was sitting on the washbasin cabinet, his grey eyes flicking between marlene's hand and his bloody knee. the dim light of the bathroom fell right on his eyes, making his eyelashes look silver, and his eyes mad.

"i told you, i got caught up in a fence when i was sneaking out away from hogsmeade today."

"you might get away with lies like that when you're telling them to remus, james or peter, but not me." she didn't look at him. "i'm not fooled that easily, and i think we've done enough shit together to know when you're lying or not, sirius."

sirius covered his eyes with the heels of his palms and chuckled quietly. "you won't believe me if i'll tell you."

marlene laughed, pushing her bangs out of her eyes. "i have four brothers. believe me, nothing is actually impossible. now, say goodbye to the lame excuse of," she air-quoted, "i got caught up in a fence when i was sneaking out away from hogsmeade today, and tell me what happened."

"promise you won't laugh." he pointed a finger to her, and she noticed that his black nail polish was chipped. marlene made a mental note to give him some to fix them. "you know what? save it. don't promise me anything. i know you'll laugh either because you think it's funny or just to spite me, so there's no point in trying."

she threw her hands up, clutching the cloth in her hand. "okay, you caught me. go on."

"it is, actually, a hogsmeade escapade story."

"cut the bullshit!" she exclaimed, lightly shoving him.

"it was!" he said, laughing. "i snuck out with remus and we were snogging down an alleyway near scrivenshafts and i heard some footsteps and i could make out the sounds of my brother's expensive shoes so, naturally, i didn't want him to see me snogging some bloke, and one of my best friends, while we're at that, so we ran off, but i got caught in some bush and i fell to my knees-"

"in front of remus! obscene!"

"piss off!" he laughed. "i fell and scraped my knee."

"oh my god! you literally fell for him!" she cackled. "after you got hurt just so that you two wouldn't be caught sneaking off and with the other's tongue down your respective throats, it's gotta be obvious that, if you'd do that for him, you gotta tie the knot. you ought to marry him!" she joked, slapping him lightly with the cloth. "he's the man made for you."

"he is, isn't he?" sirius asked, a lovestruck grin spreading across his face, and marlene resisted the urge to not roll her eyes.

merlin, he was in love.

"that sounds like a cheesy, movie love story!" she fake-gagged, snickering.

"i can make it be. whatever he wants me to, whatever he wants us to be, we'll be just that. after last year, i wouldn't want to fuck up my relationship with him again."

"eugh! he's turned you soft!"

"has not! you're just jealous because i have a boyfriend and you're still single," sirius teased her, wiggling himself in her direction.

"yeah, right," she grinned, leaning against the sink as she turned the tap water on. "i'm happy for you, sirius. hope it works out the way you want it to be and that you'll be happy and married and with two dogs and three cats and all that soppy shit."

and she really wished for that, deep within her, and she looked up to him, beaming. sirius smiled back, lopsided and full of secrets.

#their friendship is so 💞💞 i love them so much it's unreal #marlene thought it's something serious but no. sirius fell on his knees running away from regulus 😭#which fair seems very sirius of him. i too would run away in the risk on my sibling seeing me snogging someone #it'd be my private moment without them oggling 💞#/hj but also not #wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black #marlene mckinnon #marlene&sirius #my writing

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pinkpinkmermayyy · 9 months

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Obsessed with the idea of Miguel and V. taking a trip down to Florida. She advises Miguel to take short sleeve shirts and shorts. He doesn't think it'll be that hot. Poor guy has no idea what it's like to be in 90° weather with high humidity, as Nueva York is generally cool all year. Olivia secretly packs him the correct clothes, knowing what's going to happen.

Imagine Miguel going to the beach for the first time. They're probably in a private area so that people don't see her tentacles. V. puts sunscreen on both of them, and he helps with her back. He has no clue how intense the sun is when you're in the water. He is soon to find out. He also suddenly understands why Olivia insisted he change to these very dark goggles she gave him instead of keeping his sunglasses on, as the waves are intense.

They shell hunt, and V. is braver than Miguel is when it comes to swimming out to a sandbar easily 100+ feet from shore. They stay and watch a sunset. They then take a very, very long shower, struggling to get the sand out of places Miguel didn't know sand could get. It takes V. a long while to get the sand out of her tentacles. They're waterproof, but not sand-proof. Miguel goes to bed and she's like "I'll join you in a few" and then Miguel wakes up a few hours later at like 2am and she's barely done with the 2nd tentacle.

The next day they stay in so that Olivia sleeps a little. The day after, Olivia doesn't get in the water. She does, however, fall asleep on the towel she placed down while Miguel does whatever. Eventually, he joins her. They both sleep in the sunlight, faces covered by the umbrella. A towel on top of sand is a disturbingly good bed.

Even with the sunscreen, Olivia still leaves bright red. Pale bitch problems 👍

Also there's now a tan line across her stomach from where Miguel's arm was while she slept. As well as a handprint tan line on his from where her hand was on his forearm, albeit much more subtle than hers.

OMG BEACH DAY WITH MIGUEL AND OLIVIA AJDHAKDHAKDHSJHSS

they literally sound so cute imagining Miguel just feeling this humid and hot weather for probably the first time and being like “h u h” sounds so funny lmao (here in Cali it might seem like a normal winter but then BAM 90 DEGREES JUMPASCARE HEHEHEHEHE)

I remember going to the beach and getting so much sand on my legs even though I was FAR FROM THE WATER and being so shocked like “how did it get there??” I was still in the water for this to happen tho and even when I thought I was safe the waves decided to do a hehe haha and get my jeans all wet. I had the perfect key west kitten outfit until I walked out looking like a drenched cat (with ruined jeans). Imagining this with Miguel looking all soppy and wet while Olivia is just laughing at how out of his element he feels just looks so goofy SKFHSKDHD.

also idea: imagine it actually snowing in Nueva York and (I’m assuming it doesn’t snow in Florida) Olivia not being used to the snow, gets shown a bunch of cool activities to do during winter in Nueva York. They also go ice skating and they both struggle to stand up (meanwhile Xina is skating like Kamila Valieva here LMAO)

just them getting to know more about each other and becoming more comfortable through that>>>>>>

#asks 💌#atsv #across the spider verse #atsv miguel #miguel ohara #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #miguel o hara #miguel o'hara #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #across the spider verse fanart #spiderman across the verse #across the spiderverse #miguel x oc #miguel o’hara x oc #xina kwan #xinamiguel #retrofang

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dreamhot · 2 years

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i am the same anon!! tbf i had to get it to a stopping point this morning anyway before it was shareable! :') and that drodcast certainly was A Thing that needed to be processed, bless dreamie's cute oversharing heart. <3

am shy but here you go! it's missing a bit of context & same-fic references 'cause it's the final part of three, but i think it's cute on its own as a real super sketchy mock-up!

----

[“you’re so smart but you can also be so stupid,” george teases, mouth quirking as his hand slides from dream’s chest to cradle dream’s cheek. he leans over dream’s face, thumb gliding over a cluster of freckle constellations, gratified in the depths of his greedy, possessive heart at the soft-edged adoration shining up at him.

(dream has always looked at him as if george was the sun, the moon, the stars, the world, the universe; as if george is dream’s heart given life dream’s intense, unfiltered love should feel overwhelming. should be terrifying in the endless expanse of it. should george basks in it, a purring cat in its favorite sunbeam. a territorial dragon hoarding all of dream’s love; all of george’s matching intensity is quieter but no less potent in its vast strength he loves, he loves, he loves)

“the most important thing you are,” george continues, voice dipping low, wetting his lips and trailing off. his bangs hang like a curtain, partitioning the two of them in their own little world—just george and dream inches apart, two souls aligned, a two-toned ouroboros of blue and green, of sky and earth.

brows rising in silent prompt for more, dream’s nose then scrunches right after, a nearly tangible neon sign of a question mark forming over dream’s head as he, endearing to a fault, presses into the safe harbor of george’s palm.

george wants to squish his dumb cheeks and coo. george wants to drop a kiss right on the tip of his nose. george wants to spill the gentle warmth of his overflowing love out fluttering like butterflies into the aether. he wants to watch dream’s eyes go wide with wondrous awe. he wants to see dream’s face flush adorably scarlet as the flustered embarrassment sets in and dream awkwardly flails until he can cover his burning cheeks with both hands.

he’s so cute. he’s so cute. he’s—

“mine,” george whispers with all the gravitas of a royal decree, the shadow of his lost crown briefly weighing down his hair, his gaze half-lidded and laced with undeniable clear-as-glass fondness.

dream’s lips part on a faint sharp inhale, freckled constellations painted across a backdrop of soft pink and a vulnerability in wide eyes shaped like disbelief. ten, twenty, thirty years from now dream will still look at george as if he can’t believe george loves him, wants him, chose him. this idiot will never treat george’s regard as anything less than an honor, a gift, a blessing from a worshiped god. this idiot will never realize he’s just as precious in george’s eyes, just as held close in george’s heart.

the surprise melts into one of dream’s gooiest expressions, dream’s right hand lifting to slide oh-so-carefully up george’s neck until long fingers frame george’s ear and curl around the back of his head.

“i love you,” dream blurts, helplessly, those three cherished words tumbling over themselves like clumsy overeager fawns. his eyes rove across every centimeter of george’s face, a caress without touch, gaze always, always returning to the true north of george looking back.

george can feel the answering soppy smile creeping over him, teeth catching on his bottom lip in a fruitless attempt to hold it at bay. dream’s delight is a buzzing, physical thing when he lets himself fail after a token dramatic scoff, the smile unfurling so widely his eyes crinkle—his heart is so full, a joyous thrum between his ribs beating in time with the contended thump-thump-thump in dream’s chest.

“i know,” tone softer than he meant for it to be, he raises two of his fingers from dream’s face to snag a lock of dirty-blond hair. george tugs at it in reprimand when dream pouts, “i love you too. you’re the smartest idiot i know but you’re my idiot and i’m never getting rid of you.”

again, dream stares up at him with wide-eyed adoration, a quiet whine cut off by a shaky exhale. george lifts a brow in challenge, blinking at the quicksilver swap to a half-lidded gaze as dream’s back muscles flex against george’s thigh and suddenly dream’s pushing himself up, turning both his own head and george’s to the perfect angle, and kissing george as if he’ll die if he doesn’t.

and george kisses him right back (and he loves, he loves, he loves)]

----

it's very soft, i think!! <- am aro af but cdnf fires up the neurons somethin' fierce, it really do. i hope you like it! :D

🤩🤩🤩 ohhh anon this is Wonderful ... i am a sucker for the sheer devotion that is the dnf dynamic (regardless of the iteration) and even tho i can't seem to read c!dnf without the anxiety of waiting for the other shoe to drop, they're still so ..................

thank you for sharing this was beautiful <3333

#smile.ask #anon #long post #i love how they love even if their rp counterparts are very fucked up /affectionate

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lillupon · 3 years

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Hello. How are you? Managed to catch up on some sleep?

So. You mentioned that if Wonwoo had called Mingyu, Mingyu would’ve helped him out with his heat. And I have to obviously imagine that scenario.

Speaking of imagining scenarios, it’s breaking my heart thinking about Mingyu imagining these Oscar-worthy, as you put it, scenarios of him getting back with Wonwoo.

Anyway.

“Mr. Jeon?”

Wonwoo exhaled, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, just the Alpha’s voice bringing him so much comfort and relief. Wonwoo felt a dribble of slick trail down his ass.

“Mr. Jeon, are you okay?” Mingyu’s panicked voice rang out.

“Mingyu.” Wonwoo whimpered. “Alpha.”

Wonwoo heard a sharp intake of breath. There was a long pause. Wonwoo began to feel regret at having called Mingyu. This was not fair to Mingyu. There was no way this could end well for either of them. It had been a moment of weakness. Mingyu always made Wonwoo weak, so weak.

After what seemed like eternity, just as Wonwoo was about to hang up, a rough, gravelly voice asked, “Wonwoo, are you in heat?”

Wonwoo tightly shut his eyes as he nodded his head, before realising that he was on a phone call and Mingyu could not see him.

“Mhmm,” was all he could get out. He wanted to touch himself so badly. But he would not do that without his Alpha’s permission. “I need you, Alpha. I need you so bad."

There was another pause, albeit a short one.

“I’m here, baby,” Mingyu replied, soothingly, his voice now a softer tone. “Your Alpha is here. Tell me, are you touching yourself?”

“No,” Wonwoo whined.

“Touch yourself, my pretty baby. Imagine that it’s me that’s touching you,” Mingyu crooned

Wonwoo scrambled to get his pants off. His hand found his cock, squeezing a bit, before beginning to pump himself. Wonwoo let out a relieved sigh.

“That’s it, baby. That’s my good Omega.”

Wonwoo preened. Mingyu’s gruff voice was driving him crazy. His bum was soppy with slick now.

“Get your fingers wet for me. Use your slick. Can you do that for me?” Mingyu asked.

“Yes,” Wonwoo breathed out, obeying the Alpha’s command. “Yes.”

“Good boy,” Mingyu praised. “Put your fingers in yourself now. You have to get yourself ready for me, don’t you? I won’t be able to fit, otherwise.”

Wonwoo teased his rim, like Mingyu would have. His breath hitched as a finger entered him.

“That’s a good omega,” Mingyu purred. “Put your phone on speaker. I want to hear how wet your are for me.”

Wonwoo, unable to deny Mingyu anything, did as instructed.

“You sound so good. You’re so good for me. Such a perfect Omega. So wet for me.”

“Only for you,” Wonwoo arched his back, preening under the Alpha’s praise. “Want you to feel good, too. Are you touching yourself?”

“Of course I am, baby,” Mingyu responded and Wonwoo, too hazy with lust before, just now heard how affected Mingyu sounded. “I’m imagining that it’s your mouth. You take me in so deep. Your mouth so velvety soft. You feel so good around me. Whether it’s your mouth or your ass. God, baby, I want to be inside you so bad.”

Wonwoo whined at Mingyu’s dirty talk. Soon, he had three fingers inside himself, sliding in and out, his hole ready for his Alpha’s knot. His fingers, ever since he’d been fucked on Mingyu’s knot, had stopped being enough for him. But Mingyu’s voice helped.

“Are you close?” Mingyu asked. “Put in your little finger in yourself. Imagine it’s my knot. Fuck yourself on my knot till you come.”

Wonwoo did just as Mingyu told him and within a few seconds, he came on his tummy, shouting Mingyu’s name. Through his haze, he vaguely heard Mingyu, too, reach his orgasm. The sounds of both their pants filled the room. A sort of comfort befell the room.

But, of course, it was short lived. Once Wonwoo had achieved orgasm and the worst part of his heat was gone, the terrible realisation of what had just happened, hit him. Intense regret washed all over him.

“Wonwoo?” a small voice called out for him.

Wonwoo reached out for his phone. He turned the speaker off and pressed it to his ear.

“Are you feeling better?” Mingyu asked.

“Mingyu,” Wonwoo shut his eyes so tightly, he could see stars. “I just.. I’m so..”

“It’s fine, Wonwoo. I’m glad you called me.”

Mingyu said that, but Wonwoo could hear the heartbreak in Mingyu’s voice. It made his own heart shatter into a billion pieces. Wonwoo did not think he could hurt anymore than he already had been. But he was proven wrong.

“Mingyu, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Wonwoo, it’s fine.” Mingyu repeated. "I need to go. Please don’t feel bad, but I need to go now. Goodbye.”

Wonwoo kept the phone pressed to his ear. A loud, piercing sob broke through him.

Oh, my god, I’ve never written smut before. This is my first time writing smut and it’s phone sex. I’m so embarrassed. My cat is staring at me, all judgy. My cat knows. Mummy’s sorry, Billie (my cat).

Unlike the other imagines I’d written, this was in Wonwoo’s POV. Writing this in Mingyu’s POV would have wrecked me. But I do imagine that while it hurt him like hell to have to help Wonwoo through his heat, Mingyu did not regret it, nor did he blame Wonwoo for it. It did, however, shatter him to pieces, and as soon as he hung up on Wonwoo, he too cried like a baby.

Welp, I hate myself now.

Have a great week! Happy June!

A happy June indeed! Wow, thank you for writing this (っ˘̩╭╮˘̩)っ I've been thinking about this scenario for so long and it's something I wanted to explore myself--particularly in Mingyu's point of view--but I'm still working on the main storyline for AEV, and I agree that it would be heartbreaking in Mingyu's POV. I wasn't really sure how I might portray his emotions. So I just kept putting it off, haha.

Gosh, these two boys are just so whipped for each other in your drabble >.< I love how Wonwoo turns to Mingyu for comfort, and how quickly Mingyu offers it. And can I just say I love the dynamic of Mingyu being a kouhai in the streets and a senpai in the sheets LMAo I adore the role reversal we get to see when they're in the bedroom.

This was super hot!! I hope you continue to write smut and minwon loving ♡

#asks #aev bonus

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calitraditionalism · 3 years

Text

Arc Two: Chapter Fifteen

(AO3 counterpart here.)

Beetlefoot returned quicker than the other three had expected, carrying the news that the leaders would be on their way by nightfall (“if that messenger they have is any good at her job, that is”). With nothing else to do but wait, they kept close together, watching as the arguments among the visitors and natives became more aggressive until it got too late in the evening to continue. Everyone, scowling, went to bed, with many a tail tapping the ground or lashing.

A rarity for him - Mistface had trouble falling asleep. He spent half the night staring at nothing, trying to form a plan to save his brother from the leaders. He couldn’t think of anything.

And you were supposed to be smart, he growled to himself.

Somewhere in the middle of his eventual sleep, it began to rain. The camp woke up to a steady downpour, the storm aspect Derecho laughing out his thunder. A groan echoed throughout the settlement, and cats reluctantly got up and made their way outside to find food.

The rain never let up throughout the day. If anything, it got worse. So did the tempers of the various cliques in Clast and their visitors. Hunting was well enough, but it didn’t mean anything if the prey was soppy and the only way to stay dry was by crowding into the houses and glaring at the raindrops gathering into puddles. A few cats nearly started swinging over the driest prey.

“They need to get here soon,” Beetlefoot murmured to Mistface. “Before there’s a battle.”

“I don’t think they will,” Mistface said. “But I’d sure like them to.”

Someone darted past the entrance of their den. Mistface tried to watch them go, but they were gone around a corner before he could get a good look at them. He and Beetlefoot looked at each other, sharing a silent concern. A cat out there with no prey couldn’t mean anything good.

It was hard to tell what time it was as the day went on thanks to the thickness of the clouds and rain. Sitting around and doing nothing made it drag and drag and drag, until it seemed like one was stuck in a single moment for eternity. At last, though, just as it got even darker, there was Redheart’s wordless call again. Mistface braced himself and got to his feet, grateful for his thick fur.

The grumbles and complaints were much louder this time around. Even Redheart’s followers were annoyed to be out in this weather. Yet they came out, everyone finding a spot to stand (sitting on the ground had lost its appeal as most of the stone had disappeared under water) and managing to half-look up at her, half-keep their heads level so rain didn’t hit them in the eyes.

“The weather is not pleasant,” Redheart said. “I apologize for calling you all out in this rain. However, I’ve been informed that now will be the best time to leave.”

Immediately, shock and confusion rippled across the clearing. Several cats asked questions over each other – all of them having to do with the sudden change in schedule – and the brown tom from before jumped to his feet, angry again.

“You’re really expecting cats to follow you out into the great nowhere, and now?” he shouted. “In the worst type of weather besides snow?”

Redheart hardly even looked his way, speaking to her crew – and speaking rather quickly. “I said before that we would travel in groups. I think that going as an entire unit would be a better idea.”

“But why now?” someone asked, and this question was repeated by those in the front.

Redheart’s jaw clenched and unclenched. Her body was tense. “I’ve been alerted that there’s someone coming in an attempt to stop us from doing what we want.”

More shock, more confusion. Cats were looking at each other in worry, and a good deal were talking loudly to each other.

“They can’t be here already, can they?”

Mistface blinked in surprise and looked to his left. Somehow, Darkpelt and Laurelclaw had gotten to his side without a sound. Laurelclaw was shuffling his feet nervously. Darkpelt was staring vacantly ahead, ears back a little.

“It’d take longer in this weather,” Mistface agreed, keeping his voice low. “No idea who-“

“The patrol,” Beetlefoot hissed suddenly. “I told them to stay where they were. They wanted to come catch her themselves. Idiots!”

Redheart was shouting over the noise of the crowd and the rain. “Everyone who’s coming with me, gather by the west edge of town and-“

“You can’t go!”

The speaker was not someone Mistface – or anyone, by the looks on their faces – had expected. Snowshine leaped onto the structure Redheart stood on, this time with a little more grace. Redheart stared at her, dignity almost forgotten. Snowshine, sopping wet, looking like a drowned dove, was trying very hard to appear larger as she stood tall, facing Redheart.

“You’re committing treason, Redheart,” she said, almost yelling over the weather. “I won’t let you get these cats killed! They’re innocents! You just-“

Redheart made a much more imposing figure as she straightened up, glaring down the seer. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Saving lives!” Snowshine shouted, though her voice was the tiniest bit weaker. “StarClan knows that you-“

“StarClan can bite a rat’s ass,” Redheart snarled, and every single cat jumped like lightning had struck. “I’m going, and I’m taking everyone with me that I can. I am saving lives, not you.”

“We’ll-“ Snowshine faltered, stammered, and then forced herself to straighten up again. “We’ll restrain you, if we have to! I know that patrol’s coming, and you’re going with them, whether you like it or not!”

Redheart’s eyes widened. For a moment, she said nothing. Neither did anyone else. Mistface cursed Snowshine in his head for saying that out loud.

“How does she know about the patrol?” Darkpelt said, almost testily.

“She figured us out,” Mistface whispered. “Didn’t have a choice.”

Darkpelt sighed. “You’re an idiot. Fine. Get ready for action, boys.”

Redheart turned and looked down to her left, where Greyleaf stood in his spot. They had the same expression of fear and uncertainty. Something was communicated between them silently, and then Redheart turned back to the crowd.

“We’re leaving,” she said. “Now. Everyone, come with me.”

She jumped down from the structure, ears pinned to her head.

“Someone stop her!” Snowshine cried. “Don’t let her get away!”

Immediately, several cats ran forward, one jumping in front of Redheart and the others circling her. Redheart stopped in her tracks, bristling her short fur in wet spikes along her back.

“Let me through,” she said – calm, but undeniably angry.

The grey tom who had spoken last time looked unnerved, but he shook his head. “You need to speak with the patrol, at least, before you do anything stupid.”

“And talk with us she shall,” called someone.

Everyone turned to stare at a group of six cats came through an alleyway. The leader, a molly with a very torn up muzzle, parted the crowd easily as she walked forward.

“Redheart,” she said, “you and Greyleaf are under arrest for treason. The leaders are coming to deal with you personally. We’ll be holding you until they arrive. Until then, we have questions-”

Brightblaze burst out from the side of the gathered cats. “She hasn’t done anything wrong! None of us have! We just want to leave!”

The torn-up molly regarded him disdainfully. “And turn everyone against the leaders, and the Clan, and our ancestors. You all may be questioned too, if you’re not careful.” She turned her head to look at Redheart, eyes narrowed. “Bring her here, if you would. Where’s Greyleaf?”

Mistface’s head jerked to the empty space that Greyleaf had been standing in. Everyone was looking around, puzzled as to how he disappeared, when there was a yowl of pain.

Redheart was trying to shove past her captors, biting and clawing like a wild animal. She was shoved backwards, and before she was pushed again she shouted, “Get out while you can! Run!”

“Not without you!” A black molly jumped forward, landing on the grey tom.

In an instant, it was chaos. Cats ran towards Redheart, bumped into each other, and grabbed on to who had hit them and whirled into a ball of fur and claws. Thunder roared overhead and the clearing turned into a battleground. The patrollers were trying to get around the fighting cats, while Mistface and Beetlefoot half-led, half-pushed Darkpelt out of the danger zone, Laurelclaw knocking aside those in their way or serving as a blockade whenever someone pushed at them.

“Where’s Littlepaw?” he shouted, once they were in the clear. “We need to get her out of this!”

“Not until we have Redheart!” Beetlefoot shouted back. “Where did she go?”

Mistface now realized that both Redheart and his brother were gone. He stood on his hind legs, but couldn’t find them in the clearing.

“Beetlefoot, Darkpelt,” he said. “The two of you, go wait for the leaders. Me and Laurelclaw’ll find them.”

Beetlefoot opened his mouth to argue, but Mistface shook his head. “We can take a hit if we need to. You can’t. Just get somewhere safer.”

Darkpelt tapped Beetlefoot with her tail. “Get us out of here, boy.”

Beetlefoot looked between Mistface and Darkpelt, then nodded and nudged Darkpelt’s shoulder with his nose. The two of them started almost at a run, and soon disappeared around the corner.

Mistface turned to Laurelclaw and jerked his head to the side. “I can wager where they went. Come on.”

Laurelclaw, looking terrified, nodded hastily. Mistface turned and ran parallel to the battle, Laurelclaw’s heavy feet splashing along behind him.

They hit the structure and turned right, soon coming upon Redheart’s den she shared with Greyleaf. Mistface cursed when he poked his head in and saw it was empty.

“I can smell something,” Laurelclaw said, almost inaudible over the rain, which seemed to be even heavier now. “They went through here, at least.”

Mistface raised his nose and sniffed. He barely caught his brother’s scent, mixed with Redheart’s. He followed the trail, but it went into a puddle of mud and stopped. He looked up; from here he could see the stream and a little beyond it. He thought for a moment, and then came upon a realization.

“Mama,” he said. “Greyleaf’ll be goin’ for her. Redheart mighta run through this stream.”

“They could be together,” Laurelclaw suggested. “We can catch them both, if that’s the case. Which way do we go, though?”

“After Redheart,” Mistface said immediately. “We’ll find Greyleaf later.”

By the look on his face, Laurelclaw knew what Mistface was thinking, but he just gave an affirmative noise. They put their noses down, trying to find a scent. Something faintly familiar started along the stream, so they ran ahead.

“Hit that side,” Mistface said to Laurelclaw as they went. “Across the stream, just in case.”

Laurelclaw immediately made an impressive leap over the water, landed, and without pause turned and kept running. It was silent as they went, until the scent was caught again, this time heading for a thick bunch of brush up ahead. It crossed the river and spread wide and long on both sides.

“I’ll check over here,” Laurelclaw said as they slowed down. “You go that way.”

Mistface didn’t bother to respond. He just ducked into the brush, sniffing in between heavy breaths from the run.

Going through these sharp little branches and tough leaves was unpleasant – his fur caught on everything and he had to pull through it without pause, leaving small stray hairs as evidence of his presence. It was drier here, at least, but Mistface didn’t get to enjoy it. He had to stay focused.

Finally, he thought he could see an opening ahead, past a particularly dense web of branches. Shutting his eyes, he pushed through as hard as he could. His face was scratched as he went, but he stumbled into the clearing, shook his head violently, and opened his eyes.

Greyleaf was standing before him.

In unison, they stopped and stood still, both with their breath caught in their throats.

That was it, then. There would be no fighting, and they both knew it. Mistface would sooner gain the power to fly into the sky and push the clouds back to the ocean before he could raise a claw against his brother, and it was the same for Greyleaf. The two of them stood across from each other, frozen by their bond and the despair the situation brought to them.

Greyleaf was the first to speak, and his voice was weak and tired.

“Please,” he said, “please listen.”

Mistface couldn’t say anything. A mess of emotions clutched at his throat and chest.

“Just-“ Greyleaf swallowed. “I know this looks bad – I do. Please just hear us out. Don’t turn us in.”

As it had been when Mistface had been asked to leave with his family, the answer was not thought about before, but immediately obvious.

“I won’t,” he said quietly. “But you need to tell me what’s goin’ on.”

Greyleaf somehow both looked scared out of his mind and immensely relieved. “She’s- she’s over here. Come on.”

He turned around and started towards a looser part of the briar. Mistface silently followed him. Lightning crackled overhead.

They didn’t have far to go. Mistface had only walked a few steps after entering the brush when Greyleaf stopped and stepped sideways, allowing him to move past.

In a rare dry spot, Redheart was crouched, panting. Dark blood oozed from her shoulder in the shape of a bite mark. The injured shoulder’s leg was trembling, and every hair on her body was stuck out.

“I’ll abide by whatever my brother does,” Mistface said after a moment of waiting for her to speak, “but I don’t trust you worth a vole’s foot. What’s this plan y’all got? Why are you leavin’? What’s the problem with here?”

Redheart didn’t turn her head. She was glaring at the ground.

“The problem,” she said, weirdly calm, “is much bigger than the entire Clan. The problem is that I need to get every single cat out of this Territory as soon as possible, and I can’t tell anyone why until that happens.”

“You wanna split up the Clan, too?” Mistface asked sarcastically. “Make us lose all our culture and ways of life?”

“Yes,” said Redheart.

Mistface had to give her credit; that single word amazed him into silence for a long moment. When he found his voice, it was more tense than he would have liked. “You got your head twisted. I knew you hated StarClan, but everything else?”

Redheart bristled even more.

Mistface pushed on. “You’re absolutely out of your mind. If StarClan wanted to, they could-“

“It.”

Mistface stopped. “What?”

Redheart barely turned her head to look at him, a hateful glare in her orange eyes that turned them to fire.

“Not ‘they’,” she said, teeth slightly gritted. “It.”

Mistface squinted slightly. “…What are you sayin’?”

Greyleaf stepped up to his ear. Mistface turned his head to face him and was alarmed by the look of unflinching, dreading unhappiness turning his brother’s face to stone.

“StarClan’s not what you think it is,” he said quietly. “And it never has been.”

Claws gently scraped at the back of Mistface’s head. He looked between the two, confused. “What do you mean?”

Redheart sighed and shakily got to her feet. Greyleaf hurried to her side, sniffing her wound, and she gently waved him off, turning to Mistface.

“I suppose we don’t have a choice, now,” she said. “You’d better sit down. We have a lot to explain to you.”

#warrior cats #steorra #chapter #chapter fifteen #arc two #redheart #greyleaf #snowshine #mistface #laurelclaw #beetlefoot #darkpelt

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ghost-writing · 4 years

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Fee+Bear 2/?? - Home (Henry Cavill fanfic)

This is a re-post from my other blog… I’ve decided to post my writing on a separate page, it’ll be easier to access like that.

I’ve edited this a little, but there might still be some spelling mistakes & grammatical errors. (English is not my 1st language!) So, if you see something that irks you, please tell me! :)

Word count: almost 1.8k

Warnings: brief mentions of sex, AND SOPPY SUGARY FLUFF.

This is a prequel of this, but there might be some inconsistencies in the Fee+Bear stories, as it’s more a collection of one-shots, so be warned!

The sun is shining outside London. For once, the weather is great, even if a bit cold. But after spending most of the day in the garden playing with the kids and the dogs, Sofia decides to retreat to her office, because the script for episode 6 is not gonna check itself. And it needs to be sent to twins John and Paul, the writers and showrunners, for their own corrections, with still enough time left to print the final version for the whole cast and crew.

There are a lot of people depending on her now: she’s not just the star, but also one of the executive producers of her new show. A show that she’s abandoned a lot for, that she’s invested a lot in. She was working hard for it before, and is working even harder now that the lock-down is finally over, to make up for lost time.

Work is a lot on its own, but she also wants to be there for Gigi and Noah. Carmen and Elena had moved to London with her, and she owed them a huge debt for that. Their presence allowed her to dedicate herself to rehearsing and filming during the week, but she insisted on staying at home on the weekends as much as possible. Her schedule was so full, she was sure no man would have wanted to be included in that constant chaos, but Henry was not any man. He worked hard too, but came to spent most of his free time with her and her kids, instead of partying or doing whatever he used to do before they got together. She had sworn not to rush back into a relationship so quickly after her divorce, but he changed her mind easily. From the moment he met the kids, blissful, happy moments were the norm in their home when he was around.

But right now, she has to work just a little to be able to enjoy the rest of the 4-day weekend they had managed to squeeze into their extra tight work schedule. (Just one more proof that Henry was committed to their relationship.) And the quicker she gets it done, the sooner she’ll be free of it. She knows that, but she’d pushed it to later several times already.

The room is cool, which Sofia welcomes after the overheating she endured in the garden. Even in shorts and a top, the intense playing made her blood boil. But maybe that was because Henry took of his t-shirt at some point… Of course, the cat had followed her, trying to escape the ruckus Kal, Kit and the humans made (the big one being the loudest), bothering his fifth nap of the day. Sirius knows that in here, he’ll find peace and quiet, and maybe some belly rubs.

Sofia grabs the small stack of paper that’s been sitting on her desk for almost two days now, a purple pen (her designated colour for corrections, the twins using blue and green), her phone and headphones, and goes to lay on the sofa, the huge Maine Coon in tow. As soon as she settles, her head resting on a big cushion at one end, facing the door, and her bare legs and feet on the other end, Sirius looks for the best spot: her belly isn’t large enough for him to curl up in a ball on, and there’s not enough space for his large fluffy body between her and the back of the couch.

Sofia lets out a slightly annoyed sigh. “Can’t you decide already?” The black feline lifts his majestic head and looks at her right in the eyes with those enormous green marbles of his, as if to argue that this is the most important part of his routine. She melts, as usual. “Alright, baby.” She lifts him up, kisses his forehead and pets him gently, long enough for him to purr for a moment, and places him on the armrest, above her feet. She knows that in ten minutes tops, he’ll get down from there to get closer to her, demanding attention, but at least, she’ll cool down before having to deal with him. She puts the headset on, turns on some heavy rock music, like she always does when she needs to concentrate, and begins to read.

She’s about halfway through her task, and Sirius has moved spot three times, when Henry’s head peaks through the door.

“What?”, she says, taking the headphones off.

“Can I come in? I have to make a phone call.”

“Sure!” She smiles at him. “And you also need to hide from my adorable but exhausting kids, don’t you?” She winks.

He sighs deeply. “I do love them, but they. never. stop.” After removing Sirius with the utmost care and putting him gently on the ground, he sits next to her. The tiger looks at him with disdain, making Henry recoil a bit, before searching for another position of power.

“It’s all your fault, Cavill!” She brings her legs closer to her upper body to give more room to the big man. “Don’t be so goddamn nice to them, and they’ll play with each other, instead of always asking you to entertain them!”

“I tried, but I can’t say no to them! Gigi always makes that sad puppy face, and I cave… Every time!”

“Superman defeated by a pouting 6 year old… Batman’s got nothing on my girl”, she mocks. “Ok, make your call and let me finish this, please! When I’ll be done, I can teach you how to fight off the Evil Curly Dragon and her sidekick, Deadly Birdie.” She puts the headphones back on, not waiting for her boyfriend to groan at her.

Henry calls a friend or one of his brothers, presumably. She turned the music down to a more acceptable level, and she can hear him laugh. She can’t help but peak out from behind the sheets of paper every now and then: he smiles, he frowns, he makes gestures with his hands, fully immersed in his conversation. She forces herself to concentrate on her work.

Minutes pass, she’s getting close to the end of the script. Sirius is now resting on top of the sofa’s back, close to her, his legs lazily dangling on each side. His butt is turned towards his rival for Sofia’s affection, showing his disapproval.

Immersed in her script, Sofia suddenly realizes that Henry’s hand is resting on her legs. Her bare feet were now pushing on his meaty thigh, as she was looking for warmth, subconsciously. She always had cold feet, and Henry was hot in more than one way. He starts moving up from her feet, slowly caressing the ankle, then up the calf, lightly massaging the muscle with the pulp of his fingers. She looks at him, ready to scold him for distracting her, but he’s still talking over the phone, apparently unaware of what his hand his doing. He’s gone a bit quieter, so she can’t hear what he says.

From the corner of his eyes, he sees her looking at him. His hand leaves her briefly, gesturing for her to take off the headphones.

“Mum says hello!”

“Hello, Marianne! See you soon!”

“You heard that? Yeah, maybe in…”

She puts the headphones back on, decided on finishing her task rapidly. But his hand is back on her leg. His whole palm is rubbing her calf now, going back down to her feet.

“God, this is divine…”, she thinks. Henry is very tactile, and she always welcomes his gentle touch. Thinking of it, they had barely shared a moment alone yet this weekend, just the two of them… They arrived really late on Thursday night, exhausted, so she just snuggled in his arms as they both fell asleep rapidly. The children had been all over them from early Friday morning. Only last night did they finally make time for some intimacy, but they were still tired, so they did what they had to do, and quickly called it a night. Maybe he was attempting something now… She couldn’t deny it was slowly putting her in the mood.

Until he touches her sole with his thumb, which makes her wiggle her toes at the tickling feeling. She puts the script down harshly, slapping it on her thighs. He silently apologizes, continuing his conversation with his mother. This time, his hand stays still on her legs, not going back to his delightful ministrations. And she feels like pouting at him just like her daughter, to make him start again. No, she has to finish work first!

A few minutes later, she sighs with pride and relief, closing the script and throwing it in direction of the desk. It bumps on it and falls on the ground, the noise making Sirius flinch and almost fall from his perch. She turns to face Henry, who’s looking at her, a grin on his face.

As soon as she takes her headphones off, he queries “Finished now?”

“Almost! I just have to scan it and send it to the twins!”

“Can you do that a little later?” He places his hand on her exposed thigh, his expression speaking without the need for words.

“Why would I wait?”, she replies, as innocently as she can, while he stretches his gorgeous body above hers, one of his knees placed between her legs. She can feel the heat emanating from his broad chest, flowing down to her stomach, and lower.

“Because your legs are cold, and I have to warm you up… Should we go to your bedroom?”

He dives his nose in her neck, his stubble scratching at her skin deliciously, his lips and tongue tracing a wet trail on her veins and nerves. They’ve been together less than four months, but he very quickly found all of her weak spots. Only four months, but things got serious between them even before they actually could start. After talking to each other almost everyday over the phone for several months, it did not feel like they were rushing into anything thoughtlessly. Maybe it was time for another step forward…

“Our bedroom?”, she asks.

He lifts his head from her neck and looks at her, not talking for a moment. She feels worried that he won’t agree. But he kisses her lips, and she kisses him back, her arms grabbing his neck while he wraps her legs around his waist. She pushes him gently with one hand, breaking the deep kiss, needing a clear answer.

“To our bedroom, then!”, he says, the biggest of smiles illuminating his face.

#fanfic #henry cavill fic #henry cavill fluff #fluff #with a dash of smut #Fee+Bear

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rokutouxei · 5 years

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one fear.jpg

ikemen vampire: temptation in the dark theodorus van gogh/reader | gen | 2013

trying to get theo to like a cat? near impossible, right? not for you! + bonus: Arthur is an asshole 😊 | this is a crackfic leave me alone | [ao3]

“Calico? Calico, where are you?”

Cat brush in one hand and an old hand towel in another, you walk through the quiet hallways of the mansion trying to find the little kitten that had wandered into your life a week ago. You had just finished cleaning up after lunch, and you had a little bit of downtime before taking down the morning’s laundry—so you decided maybe you’d give her a little brush, maybe a little scrub down to get the dirt off her fur. After all, she needs to be clean, as she’d taken a habit out of sleeping next to you in your own bed (yes, in your own bed, where you had been banished to sleep whenever you felt like “choosing the cat over Theo”).

Calico, you called her, because of her tricolored coat. You asked Theo to give her a Dutch name, but with a scoff and narrowed eyes he refused to give her one. Not that you minded; a name could wait—and you already had a plan hatching in your mind on how you would get Theo to absolutely adore her to bits.

First things first though, you needed to find her.

“Calicoooo, where are—” you see a familiar face round a corner, his blue eyes reflecting a sort of mischievous contentment, a spring in his step. “Oh, Arthur. Just you.”

“Oh, darling, just me? That stings,” he jabs, but that smirk on his face. Classic Arthur. “Where’re you off to? A little adventure?”

“No, I’m looking for the kitten,” you say. “Leonardo and I left her with Lumiere earlier today in the library to play, but now she’s gone missing! I worry she’s walked out and off.”

“Aw, I’m sure she hasn’t,” Arthur says, awfully confident. “In fact, I did see her just now. Having the time of her life. Have you gone by Theo’s room?”

Theo’s room? To go looking for a cat? “Well, no, I hadn’t thought to look there.”

“You should, ‘cause I just saw the little furball right there.” Arthur ushers you closer to him, a conspiratorial smile on his face, and you take a step so he can whisper in your ear. “And just between you and me, you should probably gently enter the room. Don’t want to disturb whatever’s happening in there and spook the cat. Something interesting’s going on.”

“O-okay,” you say, and Arthur returns to his usual smug self. “Thank you for telling me, Arthur.”

“No problem, anything for our little miss,” he says, before tipping an invisible hat and walking towards the direction of his own room, the spring still in his step.

Now, in any other regular day, you would have taken the extra joy in Arthur’s countenance as a little more than just slightly suspicious. But you were really worried over where the little kitten had gone; so much so that it all went over your head. You do just as Arthur’s told, turning a hallway so you’re headed towards Theo’s room instead of the back garden, and hope she’s still where Arthur last saw her.

On your way to Theo’s room, your eyes pass over the gazebo lying in the garden, and your mind returns to that time last week when you’d found Calico.

You were in the garden looking for King—Theo’s dog—because you were going to take him out for a long-awaited walk. Old-style leash in one hand, you were shouting his name loudly, but the large golden retriever didn’t seem to want to show himself to you.

You’d gone around most of the garden without luck, until near the gazebo, you spotted his brown tail, wagging excitedly. He was crouched under some bushes, only a tiny bit of his rear end and his tail visible from where you are. “Found you, King!” you said out loud to yourself, speed-walking towards him. “I can’t believe you made me take so much time looking for you, what are you doing down there?” You crouch down on your knees to pet him and get his attention.

When you do, you see what’s got him so busy under that bush.

A kitten!

Scruffy, dirty, probably no more than a month old, King was making a mess out of the poor kit, leaving it soppy and wet with his slobber. You took out a handkerchief you’d kept in your pocket to gently wipe down the kitten before picking it up.

The small kit meowed at you, eyes wide, mouth seemingly shaped into a smile.

With one look, you were in love with her; near-sprinting, you dashed into the Comte’s room to ask if you could keep her.

(Later that day, Theo would frown and ask why you hadn’t asked him first if you could keep the kitten. You said he has no say in the matter, and he teased you for being an insolent dog.)

Now, the little kitten you’d picked up in the bushes looked a little less vulnerable than it did last week. You’d fed her meat and gave her milk, gave her a bath and a bed made of old hand towels to sleep on. You’d spent most of your free time over the past week tending to the kitten. Most importantly, you think, you’d given her a family that would take care of her for her whole life.

You turn the corner to Theo’s room, spotting the door slightly ajar. You wonder if Theo’s in his room, but you suppose he isn’t, if Calico is in there. After all, Theo isn’t exactly good with cats. He adamantly denies being afraid of them, saying that he just doesn’t like how they’re fickle and snobbish—in comparison to dogs, that is—but you know that maybe he really is a little afraid of their slightly sharp claws. Earlier last week he’d outright refused to be in the same room as Calico, until you’d shot him your best puppy dog eyes and nearly cried out of sadness that he wasn’t getting along with the little kit. Now, at least, he tolerates her presence, albeit he still doesn’t approach her or mind her much.

I’ll change that, you tell yourself. I’ll make him love her so much he won’t get his hands off of her, maybe I’ll even get jealous.

Finally, you stand in front of Theo’s room, the door open by maybe an inch off the frame, and you hear Theo mumbling to himself from inside. You do as Arthur’s told you—despite all previous experiences saying you shouldn’t!—and peek discreetly into the room, the gap between the door and the doorframe revealing the unbelievable. Theo, sat on the edge of his bed, your little calico kitten in his visibly trembling hands.

(Oh no, he’s so scared.)

“You know, you came into her life pretty quickly, but you have something you have to know,” Theo says, his voice shaking (the poor man!). You bite your lower lip to hold back a laugh. “You little… filthy poesje… I loved her first! So you don’t get to take her away like that.”

You lean against the wall next to the door to brace yourself. Arthur is a monster! He could have told you so you could prepare your heart, but he didn’t! You press a hand against your mouth trying to silence your snickers, but when you hear Theo letting out a panicked screech and spot Calico next to you a few seconds later, there’s no stopping the laughter that rolls out of you. Theo is by the doorway in seconds.

“How long have you been there?” he asks, voice stern. His ears are red though.

“Long enough,” you say, grinning. “Were you threatening my little baby?”

He grimaces. “I won’t stoop down to threatening a cat.”

“And yet you did,” you say. You pull him closer to you and steal a kiss at the corner of his mouth. “Jealous?”

“No,” he retorts, bringing you into the room. Calico follows your intertwined footsteps, as the both of you end up on Theo’s bed. It was rare for Theo to hide his feelings from you. He’s like that, seeming rude, selfish, stingy with his words—but he’s very straightforward now, in his very own Theo fashion. So to straight up deny he harbored any ill feelings? This rivalry must be intense! Theo pulls you into his lap with a strong arm and you rest against him. These are all practiced moves, cuddles you’ve mastered.

You lower your voice near-mockingly, “‘I loved her first,’” you imitate him, and he frowns.

“Well I did,” Theo insists, pressing his face against your neck. He sighs at the contact, and you do too. “I just needed to make sure she knew.”

“She’s not stealing me away from you, you know,” you try to reassure him, and you think softly about how silly this is. How cute. How this is a story you’ll be telling in the future. You run your fingers through Theo’s hair gently.

Theo only mumbles. “What makes you like cats so much anyway.”

“‘Cause they mostly remind me of us,” you say, and you feel him tense up. You chuckle. “Mostly because ‘I love you but I’m taking none of your shit’.”

“That is like you,” he admits, and you smile.

“Why do you hate cats anyway?”

“I don’t hate them,” Theo begins, voice strained. “I just don’t get along with them.”

You shrug. “Did you know cats are awfully loyal to their humans?”

“Never crossed my mind,” he says.

“Well, now you know,” you say. “They’re aloof and won’t pay attention to anyone out of their circle, but to those people they do consider part of family, they’re very protective. And clingy. Much subtler than dogs, but they’re really affectionate animals, if you know how they show their love.” You sigh. “Kind of like you.”

He’s huffy. “That’s an insult, isn’t it?”

“It isn’t!” you chuckle. “I swear, it isn’t. You know what I mean. You’re more dog than cat, but you do show affection a little differently than everyone else.” A beat. “And that’s fine! Because I know it’s how you show that you care. Sometimes it involves your claws. But that’s okay. Because I understand your love language. The same way you need to learn a cat’s love language.”

Theo pauses.

Got him.

“I love you,” you say, just in case, just to make sure. Just to drive it in.

That’s it, you tell yourself, patting yourself mentally on the back. That’s how you win.

Theo sighs in defeat and just hugs you closer to him, to which you respond with a kiss on his forehead. He only huffs “Fine,” before staring at the cat on the floor. She looks up expectantly.

He’s still trembling, but he reaches out a hand to rub Calico’s little head. She purrs. It makes the both of you smile.

later

“How did you know where to find me? Or us, for that matter.”

“Oh, well, Arthur said he saw something interesting, and to go to your room, is all.”

“Interesting?”

“He seemed in awfully high spirits.”

A sigh. “Oh, branleur.”

earlier

“Shit! Fuck!” The sound of Theo’s agitated, exasperated shouting from across the hall draws Arthur’s attention. Out to take a break from writing, Arthur feels like he’s found a goldmine. He quietly dashes from where he is to the unlocked door of Theo’s room; Arthur gently pushes it open by a crack to look inside. “Stomme kut! Kuthoer! Dikzak! Kutfiets!” The little miss’ little Calico is playing at Theo’s feet, jumping up and down trying to get up on him, tiny claws digging in the hem of his pants. Without a break, “Merde! Putain! Fils de pute! Crétin!” Theo bends down trying to pick the kitten up, but every time he does, the kitten tries to jump on his shoulder, making him flinch. “Fucker! Dégénéré! Krijg de klere!”

A satisfied smile crawls over Arthur’s face. “Three languages? Must be tough,” he hums, unable to hold back the cackle that escapes his mouth.

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikemen vampire theo #ikevamp theo #fics #fic #rating:G

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avaria-revallier · 4 years

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Chapter 4: Of family and tea

Bella was feeling miserable. She is wet -drenched- to her very bones. Her hair nothing more than a soppy mess and her soaked clothes glued to her skin. The first few hours the rain had been a comfortable change. It had been refreshing. Well, it wasn't any more. After three days of continuous rain her mood had hit rockbottom. The dwarrows were no better. None of them had talked to her since and even Bofur hadn't told any joke in a while. The only hope Bella had left was the knowledge that the sky would be clear once lunch-time had passed.

Annoyed she brushes another wild curl out of her eyes. This kind of weather was really the worst for her hair. Taming the golden-brown curls was a quest on its own when the weather was good, but the humid air made it almost impossible to keep them in any kind of braid. Frustrated she opens her ponytail for the sixths time this day and redoes her hair. She binds them as tight as she could manage without hurting herself in the progress.

As predicted the sky clears a few hours later. Thorin stops the ponies near a large overhang. All of them were thankful for the break. The rain had washed away their enthusiasm and the cold meals were no joy either. Stiff she walks over to Gloin and Bombur who were starting to lite a fire. Bella wasn't sure how they even managed to produce more than smoke with the wet wood. Shivering she hugs her knees, drawing her legs closer to her body. Something heavy and very, very warm was thrown over her shoulders, covering her entire body.

Peeking out from under the large coat she could see Dwalin. The tattooed warrior was standing to her right side, looking down on her. His arms crossed and a blank expression on his face he just stared at her. Dwalin could stare down almost anyone he wanted. Most people even actively avoided his gaze.

The little hobbit lass on the other hand openly looked at him. She even sometimes searched for him while looking around and smiled as soon as he returned her look. It was confusing. How could such a tiny little creature withstand his stare when even men and steeled warriors avoided him? She was one strange lass. Not complaining, not demanding a break when she obviously was exhausted enough to fall asleep while riding. She did all the tasks Thorin had given her without a word of complain. He had seen her giggling with the young princes, laughing at Bofurs silly jokes and excitedly trade receipts with Bombur. It was strange and fascinating at the same time to observe the many faces she could make, to witness how she laughs in one moment and is serious in the next. Even now she didn't fail to impress him. Shivering next to the fire, looking more miserable than a cat that had been thrown into a river and still, not complaining. Before he himself even knew what was going on his coat was draped around her shoulders. Underneath his clothes she looked even smaller. With big green eyes she stares up at him. He returns the look, carefully not to let his expression slip. He felt better as soon as she stopped shivering, he realised. They looked at each other for a few more awkward moments. Her big honest eyes piercing him, as if she could look into his very soul. Dwalin was the first one to look away. This was a premiere!

"We don't want you to catch a cold." he declared.

"Thank you, master Dwalin. Aren't you cold now?" she replied in a worried tone.

He looked down at her once again. Only true concern was to be found in her eyes. Later on Dwalin would name this particular moment as the start of ‘the whole damn misery’. Bella tilted her head a bit when he didn’t answer.

“No worry, mistress Baggins, we dwarrows run hotter than other races.” And with that the conversation was ended.

Bella separated herself from the group after they had build up their camp for the night and tiptoed to the near tree-line. Bifur was the only one watching her. She signed him to keep quiet about it by holding one finger on her lips. The first few days she hadn’t had any opportunity as there had been no cover. The rain had interrupted her training for the last few days, but now she could finally continue. Yavanna knew she would need it soon enough.

Hanging her waistcoat on a nearby branch she stepped into the clearing. Trees and bushes sheltered her from unwanted spectators. In one hand she holds her walking stick, in the other a smaller branch with the rough shape of a sword. Taking on a stable position she breathes in and out to calm her nerves and heartbeat. First she rehearsed the fundamental steps of blocking an attack from above, below and either sides. Next she changed her strategy from blocking to attacking and then combining those two.

“Where is the hobbit?” Bofur was the first one to notice their burglars absence. A small panic, followed by chaos erupted as all the dwarrows looked around, searching the camp for any usable hints where she could have gone. Bifur and Nori where the only two still sitting by the fire.

Dwalin spotted his cloak neatly folded at the end of his bedroll. He frowned at the sight of it. He hadn’t had the impression that she would reject his offer, maybe he should have clearly declared the coat as a gift, instead of just handing it over to her. Well, he would have to do better next time before one of the other dwarrows would snatch his chance away.

“Her backpack and bedroll are still here. She wouldn’t have wandered off without it, would she?” wondered Bombur.

The cook of the company had grown quite fond of the lass. Dwalin had seen them chatting for hours and hours about food and methods on cooking chicken and lamb and stews and what not. In fact they all had grown quite fond of the gentle little creature. She had been becoming a solid part of their company. Even if Thorin still mutated into a stone-headed idiot as soon as she looked in his direction or came near him. Dwalin could perfectly understand that trusting a stranger was not easy, but she had welcomed the company in her home and left said home to reclaim theirs. She willingly came on a quest to potentially be eaten by a dragon for Mahals sake! He clenches his hands into fists.

“I am going to look for her, she wouldn’t have gone far.” Dwalin grunted, stomping off to the trees.

Bifur abruptly stood up and follows Dwalin into the shady forrest. They hadn’t had to look for too long. Dwalin and Bifur found Bella on a small clearing, performing a fearful dance of destruction. Her staff in one hand and a -very poorly made- wooden sword in the other she spins over the ground. One step back, two forth, her feet barely touching the grass and moss. Jabbing, stabbing and slashing invisible opponents, while blocking attacks from all sides. It was rather beautiful to watch, Dwalin admitted, still frightening at the same time. Bifur next to him seemed to enjoy himself as well. His gaze wasn’t as clouded as on other occasions while he watched their gentle hobbit slashing the air.

Dwalin wasn’t sure how to announce their presence without startling Bella. Bifur took the decision from his hands as he clapped enthusiastically when Bella dodged a low swing by crouching down and forcefully stabbing her sword up.

For a second Bella froze in her very motion. She hadn’t expected any other sounds than the whispering of the trees around. The loud clapping took her by surprise. Before she could even comprehend what was happening her instincts kicked in and she threw the wooden sword in the direction of the sound. Back on her feet she looks over to the two figures in the shadows. With burning cheeks she realises that it had been Dwalin and Bifur who fell victim to her poor attempt of an attack. Bifur had the wooden sword in his hands, examining it. He only grunted at the pathetic try of carving a weapon.

“How long have you been standing there?” Bella asks breathlessly.

“Longer than you’d like I’d imagine.” Dwalin crossed his arms in front of his chest, looking down at her.

Bifur said something in rapid Khuzdul, waving the sword around, before he simply broke it apart and throws the pieces over his shoulder.

“I need that to train!” she argued.

“I agree with Bifur on this, you can hardly call that thing a weapon, neither can you train properly with that.”

Bifur nods furiously, gesturing towards her and Dwalin. Bella could only frown as he once again let loose a wave of Khuzdul.

Dwalin is amazed and utterly confused. She is a hobbit, there was no doubt. From her furry feet to her slightly pointy ears over the beardless face and the golden curls. A hobbit. A gentle creature… Well, sort of.

“Where did you learn to fight, lassie?”suspicious he watched her taking another swig out of her bottle.

Bofur sat beside her, eagerly carving a small wooden sword. Dwalin preferred to stand, arms crossed and starring once again down on the confusing creature. In this moment he realised that he knew close to nothing about her. They had been traveling together for a few month now and he knew her name and well… not much more. He could judge her character by observing her, that he could. She was forgiving, to an extend that he would consider it a weakness. She was fond of food and eating, also of talking about food. He had seen her talking to Ori too, so he could assume that she liked to read and held a great deal of knowledge. Without a doubt she was brave, as she didn’t hesitated to tell the dwarrows if something bothered her, but she never complained about minor things. All in all she was a confusing creature.

“You could say a dear friend taught me.” There was no hint of a lie in her expression, only a shadow of pain and grief over her face.

Bella averted her face from the dwarrows while speaking. Painful memories chased each other. The smell of blood seemed to once again linger in the air while cries of pain and sobs of grief filled the forrest. A shiver ran down her spine.

‘Not this time, definitely not this time. I will save them even if it takes my all!’

A large hand squeezes her shoulder and brings her back into the present. Glancing up she meets Dwalins eyes. In there she could see the same pain that hunted her. Of course the warrior would understand her, even thought she didn’t say any more about it.

In her last life Dwalin had trained her mercilessly after fighting Azog. She never knew if it was a command Thorin gave or if the dwarf pitied her for not being able to fight.

‘Maybe’ a small part whispered ‘maybe he wanted you to be safe?’

“Here, I made it with my own two hands.” He holds up a small dagger, silver vines ranking over the knob. “It will protect you when I cannot.”

“This is beautiful!” she gasped. “I – I don’t even know what to say, master Dwalin.” Gently she brushes over the delicate ornaments.

Bifur next to her stopped carving to watch them both, a knowing grin on his lips.

“Is it not to your liking?”

Was that a small portion of panic in his voice? Startled she looked up. The big dwarf had taken a step back, scratching his neck while studying the ground with extreme interest.

“What? No!” she cried out, “It is beautiful. I have never seen such a fine blade before. Are you sure to give it to me?”

Finally Dwalin looked her into the eyes. Relief and pride in his gaze he stepped closer, placing both hands on her shoulders and knocking their foreheads together. The impact wasn’t that great, yet the world went dark.

The cheered ‘namad’ slowly died. After knocking their heads together the hobbit lass slumped down, eyes closed. Bile rose in his throat, had he killed his sister? With shaking hands he checked her breathing.

“She is a hobbit, you rockhead.” Bifurs gruff voice reminded him in Khuzdul. “Let Oin check her over.”

Gently lifting the hobbit up they both left the clearing. Bifur carrying her waistcoat and the partly finished sword for practice, while Dwalin held his newly won sister, his gift for her and the staff she used earlier. Halfway to the camp they met Bombur and Bofur. Dwalin hurried past them without a word, followed by Bifur who signed ‘Rockhead’ to his family.

“She’ll be fine. Just a bit of rest and sleep and tomorrow she'll be better than new.” The healer assured the gathered dwarrows.

Those words took most of the tension from the company. Bombur excused himself to prepare tea if she should wake. Fili and Kili remembered that she had purchased a rather large sack of dried leaves in Bree and went off to get it off of Bellas pack. Dori fussed over the resting hobbit, bringing another blanket and freshening up the wet piece of fabric on her forehead. Balin drags his brother to the other side of the camp, no doubt to give him an ear full for his recklessness. Bofur volunteering to take first watch took Bifur with him, sitting on a log a few feet from Bombur.

This left Thorin, Ori and Nori sitting by their burglar. Dwalin returned after an uncomfortable moment of silence. He fussed over the lass just like Dori before, adjusting the blankets and improvised cushion to make sure she would lie comfortable. This was the first time Thorin had seen his friend so worried. He notices a small dagger laying at the halflings side. After staring a while at it he recognised it as Dwalins. Nori, who had followed his kings gaze spotted the dagger as well. He knew of all the valuable belongings of the company, how else could he call himself spymaster?

“A very nice gift,” Nori chimed half mocking half serious, “not the best choice if you wanted to court her though.”

Thorins guts froze at the mocking words. He kept his face unmoved although the sheer thought of Bella courting another- wait he didn’t even care for her! There was nothing attractive about that gentle creature. Not her hazelnut curls that looked like rivers of gold in the firelight, not the way she laughed at Bofurs jokes, or slightly frowned while exchanging knowledge with Ori. It wasn’t cute how she smiled in her sleep and most definitely it wasn’t attractive when she stood up to him or scolded his nephews when they pulled another silly prank on Ori.

“Watch your tongue, thief! She is my sister by right, as she accepted my gift. She even said she had never seen a better one.” The warrior snarls at Nori. A silent sight of relief escapes the king while he watches Nori standing up, hands raising in surrender and joining Bombur by the fire.

Thorin watches Dwalin changing the wet cloth with the uttermost care. A small red bump decorated her forehead. He winced at the sight of the injury.

“I am not sure that mistress Bella actually knows what she accepted while accepting your gift, mister Dwalin.” Ori murmured absorbed in his journal.

King and warrior looked at him in confusion. The scribe didn’t seem to notice at first and it took almost all of Thorins composure not to jump at Ori and question him in detail about everything he knew about the hobbit.

“What do you mean?” finally- finally Dwalin asked the question burning like hot coals on Thorins tongue.

“W-well… she is a hobbit after all. From what I l-learned they have a different culture. For example walking barefoot and eating seven meals a day. They don’t know the concept of dwarven courting or receiving a gift to forge - to forge a family bond.” At first Ori had hesitated, fidgeting with his hands and looking everywhere but at Dwalin and Thorin. As he ventured further into his acquired knowledge he straightened himself and continued with a firm voice. “I was quite shaken when I had to explain that stone is not simply stone but that there are quite a few differences. She told me then that dirt is not simply dirt even that could be divided into different sections and classes. – Oh, I am sorry. I am sure you wouldn’t want me to bore you with different methods of farming. Where was I… Ah, right.” He clears his throat. If only to gather his thoughts or to built up tension, he definitely succeeded. “Hobbits are friendly folk. They make friends as easy as breathing and it wouldn’t wonder me if she already considered us to be her friends. She might be still politely addressing us all with ‘master’ nonetheless she might have asked me if it would be considered rude to ask us to call her by her name. One of us should explain her the importance of a self made or crafted gift and the honour it brings the dwarf whose gift was accepted.” For a split second the shy scribe met Thorins gaze. Ori flushed bright red, mumbling an excuse and hurrying of to sit by the fire with Bombur and Nori.

It was the first time that the two of them had heard their scribe talk that much in one go.

Thorin grunted displeased. He wouldn’t mind if the young one would have talked a bit more. He wasn’t quite sure if he could trust the hope that had sparked within him. How could the lass consider him as a friend? They barely talked and when they did he usually wasn’t very polite. Well, she just rubbed him in the wrong places is all. Always challenging him with her looks, speaking up when she was displeased. Thorin simply didn’t know how to react, so he spoke to her only when necessary and even then just the bare minimum.

Bellas eyes fluttered open. Groaning she sits up, on hand pressed against her head, the other rubbing her eyes. How long had she been sleeping? The headache almost felt like a hangover. A distant memory of an evening she spend with Bofur, after they had reclaimed the mountain, flared up. They had found the cellars, full of long forgotten wine and liquor. The feeling was quite similar, even if she couldn’t remember drinking any.

“She’s awake!” the one squeaking excitedly was Kili.

Bella only hissed as the loud voice ringed in her ears. The dulled knock was undoubtedly Filis fist on his brothers head. She looked around their camp. Her dwarrows where still here, each and every one of them. For the better part of their journey she had always feared them gone after waking up. Bella hadn’t slept a single night in peace, never more than a few hours before she would sit up and join whoever was on watch.

Fili came over, handing Oin a steaming mug. Proud the blonde prince looked at Bella.

“We mad you some tea! We assumed it would please you.” Openly he smiled at her, giving her also a mug.

“Thank you, that is very thoughtful of you.”hesitating she smiled back, repressing the urge to ruffle through his blonde hair. It was a habit she had brought with her from her last life.

“What kind of tea did you make me?” she asks instead.

“I noticed that you had purchased quite a big bag of dried leafs while we were in Bree, so I came to the conclusion that you must really like that blend of tea. Kili and I thought of trying it too, so we made some for the whole company. We all enjoyed the tea you gave us back in your home. I hope you don’t mind.”

Bella grew paler with each word the young prince stated. Peeking past Fili she could make out Kili in the process of bringing another steaming cup to his lips. She reached out and grabbed one of Filis hidden knives from beneath his jacket – how could he even move with so many weapons on him? – and threw it at the dark haired dwarf, hitting the mug and forcing it out of Kilis hand.

“Don’t any of you dare to take a sip!” she yelled, while her head roared in pain. Nori was the first one to act. A sharp blade was pressed against her throat, before she could blink. Bella didn’t move. While Fili stood up to look after his brother Oin examined the contend of the tea. He waves over Gloin to bring some dried leafs with him.

“By my beard, did you plan on poisoning the dragon with your tea?” the healer asked in confusion.

“What is in it, Oin?” the low growl from behind made her nearly jump. Noris blade was pressed firmer against her skin as she turned to watch Thorin. “Wolfsbane, Oleander and deadly nightshade, also known as Belladonna.” Oin answered honestly shocked.

For a fact, Bella did know that these herbs are poisonous to most races. She had aimed for these herbs because she knew the effect it would have on, well, any other creature than a hobbit. Her plan had been to poison the trolls or at least disable them long enough for the dwarrows to take care of the matter. It wasn’t the best plan, she had to admit, yet better than the outcome in her last life. She didn’t fancy to be used as a handkerchief twice!

“Let her go, thief! She clearly saved Kili and the rest of us from dying.” Dwalin snapped. He didn’t dare to hit Nori as he feared it would drive the blade further into Bellas flesh.

Nori wasn’t even impressed, only when Thorin nodded sharply he slowly let go of her, backing away. In a split second Dwalin was by her side checking for a possible injury through the blade.

“You had me worried, namad.” He blurted, angrily staring at Nori. The thief in question backed further away.

“Namad? What does that mean?” Bella asked.

Confused she looked around, stopping by Balin. The kings advisor sighted. “One matter at a time, lassie. I guess we all have some explaining to do.” He stated, sitting down again.

There was an uncomfortable silence in the camp. Bella decided that there probably would be no better time to talk with them than now. All eyes on her she reached down and takes a deep sip from the tea.

“I agree with master Balin. I may not have told you everything, but I have never lied to you.”

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blankdblank · 4 years

Text

Next Caller Pt 30

On your phone you got the half hour warning that your chair was arriving at your home and you couldn’t help but make a quick stop first before going home. Parking in the lot you hurried around the building and between the random people inside still swooning and speculating what was next. Grinning upon seeing you Balin watched your easing around the counter straight for his distracted cousin’s side while he was mid grind fully unaware of your arrival yet. Wide eyed a moment at the arms latched around his middle Thorin froze and glanced down perfecting the picture perfect moment Dwalin captured on his phone, a soppy grin melting onto his face noticing it was you in your step back.

“I can’t tell you yet, but I have to go wait for my chair delivery, see you in a bit for the zoo.” Turning away from him you trotted to the back door heading back to your scooter to drive home again.

Looking to his cousins Thorin’s grin held as he croaked out in an awkward chuckle, “What was that?”

Balin shrugged and Dwalin said, “Must be one hell of a chair to hug you and dart off.”

Balin said, “We’ll find out in a bit. You can get a picture when you go to pick her up.” Turning back to his mixture he let his mind wander while your usual fan club were sighing at the new update to their real life romantic drama.

Inside your garage again you were sealed and from there you hurried to remind the birds of your guests coming. It wasn’t long after when the truck arrived and a pair of men unloaded the chair that they wheeled to the front door then had to lift and carry through the house to your study behind you. While they carried it you held the tablet you had signed for the delivery with and at the desk you grinned at the pair guiding them back out thanking them after passing the tablet back. With their cart they went back to their truck hoping to get an early start on their next stop which was taking up most of what remained in their truck. Hurrying out the door you checked your mail finding a couple letters from children of one of your friends excited to show off pictures they had drawn of their garden you enjoyed swinging in with them on visits.

Back to your study you went and added the pictures to a cubby with more you were going to hang somewhere then turned to trot over to your chair. Grinning madly you sat on the chair crossing your legs allowing you to hold your desk and turn around in a circle. A few more circles and you hopped up heading back to the front door where you smirked seeing Thorin holding a to go mug saying, “I gotta see this chair.” Roac on his shoulder took off to go greet the other Ravens before focusing on Dot.

Stepping back your grin spread and he chuckled following you back to the study where he smiled seeing the chair nearly identical to your lounge in the study along the opposite wall. “I thought it might be good to have it match the lounge, and it’s pretty comfy. It spins too.”

He chuckled and said, “Well I’m glad you splurged. You deserve it, and it does fit the style. It didn’t set you back too far?”

“No,” you said shaking your head, “I got my first trust payment, from my father’s clan. Thought I’d try to see how I felt after buying something. I’m not going crazy, probably not gonna touch it again for a while, but I’m ok.”

“That’s great to hear.” He said wetting his lips and looking you over, “About the hug?”

“I have news,” you squeaked out widening his grin again.

“Can you tell me yet?” You shook your head and he chuckled nodding his head to the side, “Come on then. Must be good news if you had to hug someone.”

“Oooh,” accepting the to go mug he offered you, “thank you.”

“The citrus one you like.”

“Nice,” you said lifting the mug for a sip while he led you to the door and watched you hang up your bag and palm your keys you pocketed after locking the house behind you.

Together in a group the Durins were waiting, mostly the men aside from Mal and Tili. After the long drive your mug was empty and in a similar short and tank top combo complete with open flannel you matched Mal and Tili. The pair of whom grouped around you and remained there on the way in after the purchase of the admission tickets by the guys at their insistence. From exhibit to exhibit you went stealing pictures with Thorin continuing to steal glances at you until he felt your poke at his side and he smirked seeing the Dik-Dik exhibit.

Shaking his head he joined you and Mal on your way to browse through the deer and antelope breeds. Pictures were taken, including one that Dwalin took with you and Thorin in front of a close by Dik-Dik in the mini almost interactive grazing area walkway. Giraffes were next and large cats next to finish off the usual savannah dwelling creatures heading into forests and mountain animals. Frodo especially loved the lions and other large cats, while Mal went crazy loving the bear exhibit.

Before leaving around a reserved table in one of the in park restaurants your head turned to Tili as she asked, “Jaqi, weekends still free?”

After licking the last bit of sauce off your lower lip you caught her eye with a nod, “As far as I know.”

“Good,” she said with a widening grin, “You should join us this weekend.”

Mal’s smile popped wider and she nodded making you look between her and your grinning boss while Thorin grumbled around his mouthful. Frerin smiled saying, “Yes, you should definitely come see the family home. Gran and Amad have been aching to meet you.”

“I, wouldn’t want to im-,”

Tili shook her head and was joined by nearly all he guys in saying, “No imposition.”

Dwalin, “You should come, we’re all going to be away and we’d hate to leave you without your usual tea fix, Thorin’s got his own little herb garden special at the house so you’ll get his best home brews.”

“I, suppose,” you said glancing at Mal, whose hand landed on yours with an excited squeak.

Finishing lowering her glass she said, “Tomorrow, you, me, we are buying you a bikini.”

“I-,”

Frerin, “We do have a pool, and private lakes on the grounds.”

Tili nodded, “Plus the waterfall near the cliffs. We leave Friday night to fly out.”

“Fly?”

Thorin by then had swallowed his mouthful and said, “Our land is a few hours drive, straddling the border of Erebor and the Grey Mountains. It’s just a forty minute flight.”

“Ok, is it another, casual thing, or..?”

Balin answered, “Strictly casual, just family. If you wanted a simple dress for dinner that would be up to you.”

Tili said, “Sundress, something far from extravagant, if you spent the whole weekend in your pj’s we wouldn’t mind, Dis probably will be showing off her sweats for most of it. Even dinners will mostly be on the back courtyard cooked on the grill no doubt.”

You nodded and lowered your gaze to your plate to slice off another bite while they bled into what you all could do there before Thorin added, “Plus, don’t worry about leaving Roac with Dot alone, he’s coming with us, wouldn’t miss the trip to see his Amad.”

A final tour of the nocturnal section was on your way out and back in his car Thorin looked you over making you say, “I know I don’t have to go. Just wondering what I’m gonna pack.”

“What you usually wear should be fine. They won’t give you a hard time.”

“Is this another Mal courting thing?”

Thorin chuckled and replied, “In a way. Mainly to allow them supervised time together on a vacation since the boys are away often.”

“So no actual buffering then?”

Again he chuckled, “No.”

Music and innocent chatting while you both un-tensed from the slightly confusing trip to the zoo you had both imagined to be far more flirtatious on your parts only to be surpassed by the snuggling trio stealing pecks and embraces where they could mostly leading you and Thorin to man their phones to capture their pictures. The clearly established relationship had taken the forefront of the focus between stops you would all shift to the toddlers to ensure they were being given ample attention as well. It was a bit hard to not be jealous but then again you really had no reason to be. There was no courtship and if one was to start it certainly wouldn’t be in that setting with that crowd all watching so intently.

Open suitcase on the bed you eyed your clothes hanging in your closet and began to add simple clothes. Jeans, shorts, socks of an ample amount along with underwear. Tank tops and t shirts with a few flannels and a sweater just in case. A couple simple dressier things were chosen, a mint sundress, collard and sleeveless, layered for sway and to add a more feminine touch to the style. With that a layered sleeveless tan polka doted top with a navy skirt to match, in case something far dressier was planned you added a simple long sleeved yellow lace layered dress with your new heels and some thigh high stockings. Grumbling to yourself as to what you might choose for a swim suit only to cover your head with your pillow mid groan hoping that you could remain calm near the pool. It had been a long time since you had swam and that was in a secluded pool with just you alone on Celeborn’s property. Either way you were invited and you couldn’t be rude and back out now. Just hoping that the pool time would be kept to a minimum and you wouldn’t be a bother to anyone by spoiling their fun.

Four bell rings in a row even had your birds peeking out of the greenhouse until you called out, “I have little legs Mal! I can only go so fast!” Hurrying from your shower in your towel to open the door. Huffing once you saw her giggling self you turned letting her in, “Just let me get dried off, you said ten.”

“It is ten.”

“Not with that clock thingy last night.”

Looking at her watch she asked, “That was last night?” Then looked up following you only to stop at the first room with new curtains, “You put up curtains!”

From you bath where you wiggled into your panties and bra and got to drying your hair you called back, “Ya, it’s slowly getting there.”

After her own tour she followed the sound of your blow dryer and smirked seeing the battle of the curls trying to keep their springy selves dripping then followed your fingers in folding a simple start to a five section braid she took your agreeing nod to jump in and help you keep it straight all the way down to the end. “I don’t know how you do it every day.”

“I don’t wash it every day, can’t or I end up looking like a sheep. One or twice a week or it gets moody.”

Giggling to herself she followed you to your bed where you pulled on your shorts and tank top with the flannel over she passed you, “Any choice on color for your bikini yet?”

“I don’t know. Used to have an orange one piece,”

“That’s what lifeguards wear.”

“Exactly,” you said sitting down to pull on your socks and tie your converse.

“You were a lifeguard?”

“Out in Lindon, part of my water therapy. Ten summers helping the lifeguards there drag people out of the swells.”

“Water ther-, oh, your ship.”

Shaking your head you stood, “I’ll be fine, I can swim, I just prefer it not to be crowded. I’ll dip my feet in, who knows they might have a lounging waterfall pool area or something I can lay in while you and your duo pounce on one another, or, whatever you kids get up to these days.”

Giggling again she says on your way back to the door after you’d pocketed your phone and wallet, “You know, sometimes I can almost forget just how old you are, until you say something like that.”

“Well it’s true, and don’t you deny you haven’t been drooling over them in their, I don’t know, trunks, speedos, lets hope that they are not the banana hammock type, I doubt I could survive that.”

Nudging you with her elbow she said, “You know you’d like to see Thorin in one.”

Looking up at her you led the way to the door you locked and grabbed your keys off the ring only to turn back to your garage saying, “If I want to see his bare ass cheeks I’d prefer him naked, not in a g string.”

“So you prefer speedo then?” she teased.

“I’m seeing more big picture, you’ve met Bombur and Gloin.”

“Oh, now why’d you-,”

“Bigger picture. As long as they’re comfy I don’t care, but I am hoping for no g strings.” Hitting the button on the wall for the garage door you walked to your bike as she eyed the paint cans, “Now where are we going?”

Smiling at you she said, “To this cute shop I know.” Trotting back to her scooter in your driveway that you pulled up to allowing you to close your door behind you.

As she readied her own scooter she watched the kids racing by who stopped to wave and greet you then dart off whispering making her look at you after the second group, “They saw my runes on the mailbox matched the ones on Bombadil.”

Again Mal giggled and said snapping her helmet on, “Finally getting the credit you’re due.” Leading the way she pulled out of the drive and you were right next to her for the whole way to a far from what you would call cute in size for the shop more like a mini mall in itself. Parked in the railed off section you crossed the crosswalk to the front entrance and passing the section of just floral wraps and sarongs you made your way down the weaving path glancing up at the fans blowing even colder air down on you the farther back you got dropping the temperature absurdly low for a swimsuit themed shop in your opinion.

“I suppose we can start in one pieces.” Looking around with pursed lips she said, “I think blue,” leading the way to the section of blue while you milled about in the silver ones just past the white ones. A few minutes past and she called out, “Find anything yet?”

Sliding them from one side to the other you replied, “Do they sell nothing but thongs?”

To that she giggled and replied, “Well you are in the thong section.”

“I am?” You said peering up at the odd symbol on the sign your head cocked at, “Oh, it’s a butt, I thought it was another non peach logo mishap.”

Turning around you strolled out of the thong section eyeing the butts becoming more covered in the logos. “Peach logo?”

“I told you about the Butt bush on the way to Rohan.”

“No you most certainly did not.” She fired back peering at you as you started to browse the silver section.

“Oh, could have sworn I did. Anyways, we get to the airport and he pulls into the ‘peach’ section for parking right in front of this butt shaped bush.” Behind her hand she snorted trying to hold back a giggle moving another suit aside, “And he said it’s a peach, but it clearly was a butt,” pulling out your pocket you found the picture and sent it to her phone only making her snort and laugh out loud when she saw it, “Butt bush.”

“That is not a peach,” she giggled out helplessly while you sighed and moved onto the black section seeing as silver just shifted to more scaly designs with absurd ruffles.

“Ooh,” That had her leaving her section to come find you.

“I heard an ooh, I want to see the ooh.” Up to your side she walked and eyed the lace cutout style panel over the middle of the black one piece. “Nice.”

Holding it up to yourself, “Does this look like it’d fit, I have sort of weird proportions.”

“That’s why I like this shop,” she said moving to the end she pulled the measuring tether she brought over to you helping to get the right size using the chart hanging on the end she read when she took the tether back. “This one should fit better. Owner is a Half Hobbit, used to having weird proportions. Yours should be on the blue hangers. I get the lilac.”

Nodding you laid the right sized one over your arm and joined her to the blue section where she eased right back to where she was then pulled out a choice of her own, “Ooh, that’s nice.”

She nodded eyeing the more classic blue polka doted suit saying, “I like it.” Laying it over her arm she turned her head taking your free hand, “Now, bikinis.”

Eyeing the signs for how much coverage the bottoms offered you skipped the silver ruffled section and started in the red section. More towards the skimpier end showing off the bright baby blue black outlined string bikini. Nipping at her lip she trotted over to you asking, “What have you found?”

“Um,” you said eyeing a black simple shaped two piece, the top was heart shaped with two bands going diagonally across your ribs flashing a bit of skin. Matching the bottom with double bands on the sides around your hip bones. “I don’t know why but I like it. Not sure how it would look though.”

Nodding her head with a larger size she brought you to the little try on station where body models were set up. Helping you to ease the suit on over its nonexistent head you settled the suit onto it laying the bands flat across its ribs. “That would look so cute on you. Just hug you perfectly, I like the crossing for you.”

Removing the suit you went back and grabbed the one in your size and curiously kept browsing with her close by to see if there was anything else that caught her eye. Branching into colors a neon yellow top with a similar crossing set of strips around the ribs paired with a navy blue bottom with neon yellow decorative ties on the sides. Wraps and covers were next and with a couple sarongs chosen you both headed for the registers while Mal teased her way through imagining how the boys would react to her choices. Ending at the scooters by saying, “And we all know Thorin will just scoop you up seeing your piercings on full display.”

“Oh I highly doubt that.”

“Oh yes he will, because he won’t want anyone else seeing them.”

Making you giggle and roll your eyes, “With that explanation then I expect you to be locked in a closet beside mine with that teenie bikini of yours. Though it might just be Dis locking you away,” making her giggle again. A message on your phone had you saying, “Ooh, I gotta head home, my mattresses are on their way.”

“Do you need an ally?”

“I mean, if you like. I was just gonna wash these, make some soup and sandwiches while I waited.”

“I like soup.”

With a giggle you said, “Alright, come on then.” With your bag on the dip between your legs you rode your way back to your house parking in your garage that she followed you through to your sewing cabinet to cut off the tags while she gawked at your setup.

“Where did you get this?”

Looking at her you said, “Oh, um,” looking around the cabinet you brought out the card you had tucked into one of the top compartments you handed to her, “I don’t know how to say it, but they’re pretty affordable. Had mine for centuries. Folds up into a chest and it’s light weight, fireproof and all that.” She snapped a picture of the card that you put back again then went out to your greenhouse where she saw you using the faucet in the wall to fill the small barrel that with a small bit of laundry soap Mal watched you hand lather your swimsuits. Pouring the mixture out over a couple of your planters that helped to perk up the rare plants more you refilled the barrel and rinsed off the suits while she talked about her thoughts for how the trip would go.

“I think it’ll go well, I mean everyone will be there, so all the ones from the Festival plus so many more. I think that should be-,” For a moment her eyes flinched wider feeling something brushing her cheek in Kuu’s lean over her shoulder.

In her silence you looked up saying, “You’re up late Kuu,”

“We have a delivery.”

“Yes we do. I was going to make some soup, did you want some peas before bed?”

“Yes please. I will get my bowl.” He said turning away parting Mal’s lips in his sudden vanishing after his sudden appearance while you stood to hang up your suits.

On her feet she watched you dump the final barrel of water and then lead the way to the kitchen where you washed your hands and filled the pot that you added peas to allowing that to sit. “Does he do that often?” She whispered by your ear making you smirk at her.

“Ask for peas?”

“No, the, leaning,”

“Oh, ya. Hector and his Mate do the same, I think it’s just, their thing. They like to be sneaky. Means he likes you or he’d stay away.” Mal nodded and you giggled, “You get used to it.” Turning to head to the pantry for more soup and your last loaf of bread while Kuu came in and settled his bowl on the counter and looked to Mal stepping close to her side. Adding the soup to the second pot you settled on the second lit burner saying, “It shouldn’t be that long of a stop, just leaving some mattresses. Tomorrow is the big build day. But they won’t bother you all.”

Happily he watched as you strained the peas out you poured into his bowl he carried back to his house after a big yawn. “Thank you.”

“Get some sleep.”

He walked off and she looked you over as you brought out a skillet for the sandwiches and started to slice the bread. “So when are you buying a washer and dryer?”

Smirking at her you said, “Is it crazy that I might actually like my hand washer kit?”

“Little bit,” making you giggle again, “A bit like little house on the prairie. Next I’ll see you churning your own butter.”

“Oh I don’t have the patience for that, takes hours if you do it right.”

“Is this homemade bread?” She asked and you lifted a brow at her, “This is not a criticism, that’s kind of awesome. And your soup, did you buy these?” She asked lifting the empty jar she sniffed. “This smells so good.”

“Thank you, I should have some more soon, by how my veggies look.”

“I’m gonna have a house like this one day, and you are teaching me how to make that.”

“Sure. It’s fairly simple recipe. Just jar it and you can have soup when you like.” Finishing off another grilled cheese your head turned at the doorbell sounding making you turn off the burner for the skillet.

“I got this.”

You nodded saying, “Just stir it occasionally should be back before it’s done.” Walking for the door you grinned and showed the delivery men inside. “That corner should be good.” The first man eyed the empty room and you said, “They’re installing the bunk beds tomorrow.”

Chuckling to himself he said, “Stacked should be best then. Just to make sure they don’t fall over.”

“Yes, that would be good, my birds like to explore.”

Stacked in the corner out of the way the four were left and they guys were back to their truck with signed slip in hand ready for their next stop. Back to the stove you went and finished off the soup you served out complete with split grilled cheeses enjoyed while you shared basic ways to make the bread and what actually was in a few of your soups. A message from Bilbo that he needed some help in the shop had her stealing a hug and hurrying out, “See you tomorrow.”

“See you.”

Finishing off the food you cleaned up and let out a breath double checking your garage and front door were locked before heading back to your bedroom to get some sleep early. Plans however didn’t pan out as you were up a few more hours watching a show to tire yourself out. Groggily you checked your suits and ensuring they were dry you folded them and added them to the suitcase at the foot of your bed.

Today would be busy to say the least. Four rolled around and getting ready you were off, though a bit early you headed in having to skip the shop from a message that the guys had sent you saying they had a surprise for you. Sending off a quick message to Thorin you went straight to the station where you found the guys ready to lead you into their office.

“Everything good?”

Glorfindel, “Better than good.” Flashing you one of the stickers making your jaw drop as you let out an excited squeak taking hold of the sticker making them chuckle.

Ecthellion, “Just the Countess for now as she’s the most popular right now, possibly we could add another character monthly if you like.”

You nodded saying, “Ya, maybe Wolsey next, I can get you a copy of his sketch to stock up if you like.” They nodded and taking hold of the manila envelope holding the 20 sheets of portrait stickers with four on each sheet.

Exiting into the hall you froze at the to go mug being held in front of you when you turned. “Hello,” You said to Mal who you accepted the mug from.

“This is how Thorin gave me your drink. Ding Dong, ‘this is for Jaqi.’ You broke my uncle in law.” Rolling your eyes you turned for your booth to wait outside sipping on your cider, “What’s in the envelope?”

“Mmm,” lowering your mug you reached into the envelope and excitedly she squeaked accepting the sheet you held out to her, “Stickers.”

“This is why you missed your drop in?”

You nodded and replied, “Yup. I didn’t realize-,”

Her smirk deepened looking at you, “Oh you didn’t realize that Thorin wanted to make sure that his lady had her morning fix before our show?”

Shaking your head you said, “I doubt-,”

She pointed at the cup, “He woke me up, to give you, the mug that you couldn’t make it in for instead of barging in here himself. Which if he had he’d no doubt hide out and watch.”

“Either that or he’s staking out the place to find his own way in for next week.” Making her giggle to herself.

A stunning show centered around two new characters drove people off what they had imagined, though excitedly they were hooked when Frenn did come back into the story in tries to goad a confession out of Durin while he scoured his ship in search of the meant to be resting Bunny.

The silenced buzz of your phone alerting you to the bed frame arrival, once the show was over a hasty hug from you later to Mal and you were off to hop onto your scooter. Texting Bilbo she passed on word that you were heading home confirming to her that Dwalin was already at your place. A fact that you found for yourself upon arrival seeing him parked in your driveway. Opening the garage door you parked on one side and let him pull in on the other leaving a wide section for any supplies they might need in the driveway or garage. Hastily through the house you went warning the birds that you were closing the door to the greenhouse hearing Dwalin greeting the first crew. Off the truck the wood was unloaded and out you came flashing a grin to Dwalin who said, “Jaqi can show you back.”

You nodded and led the group to your sisters’ room and you pointed to the opposite wall from the door, “That wall should be plenty big enough for some extra space if you need it.”

The head builder said, “Oh ya, plenty of room,” turning his head he said, “You have the mattresses, good.”

“They’re not in the way, are they?”

They shook their heads and he said, “No, not in the least. We may have to take down your curtains till we’re done though to be safe on not catching them,”

“Ya sure,”

Measuring tapes came out while one of the men brought down the curtains and moved them to the white and orange spare room then returned to find the head man saying, “We have some, three feet, on the end over here, now, we could add some spare shelves to fill that space if you like, for spare sheets or such. I’d hate to just leave that space empty at the end of the day.”

“Yes, that would be amazing, thank you.”

He nodded pleased that you were so apt to his suggestion and said, “We’ll get started.” You nodded and headed out at Dwalin calling your name when the first crew saw another crew arriving, though chests un-puffed when they realized the much simpler bed kits were being assembled in other rooms. Through the front door while the other crew stacked the wood they would cut on their pop up table in your driveway for final measurements the second crew unloaded their kits into the sea foam room for your Naneth and Cirdan first. Following up by moving the orange and blue rooms’ beds in next with the blue beds on one side and the tan on the other. Starting with the sea foam while you sat on the couch beside Dwalin the sound of construction starting had you glancing his way.

“Want some stickers?”

He looked at you then glanced down at the sheet you passed him with wide eyes in a deep breath, “No!”

“Yup,” Shifting on the couch you said, “I think I’m gonna put two in my study and bring the rest to your family place, ooh, you haven’t seen my new chair.” He shook his head and followed you to your study where he grinned at your chair you knelt and spun around on it and chuckled watching you set your sticker sheets by the notes you had put in one of your desk drawers. The remaining sheets were added to your suitcase and back to the living room you went while he hurried to add his sheet to his trunk after having amply praised the design of the fabled Countess.

Before the hour was through the platform was built for the sea foam bed with padded headboard attached and ready for its mattress. Windows were closed and onto the next room the team moved catching glimpses of curious supply fetchers from the other team stealing peaks at what vibe the rooms were giving off for them. All seeming to be pleased with your taste, especially those building the base of your bunk beds loving the clear able to grow into children’s room hinting for them perhaps that there were bairns excited for these beds to be completed for them. Every hint urging the teams to do their best, especially since more than one of them had shared whispers on your name, having recognized it instantly upon the bombshell addition to Bombadil’s new lineup.

The twin platform beds for the orange/blue room were completed with ease and with Dwalin beside you they gave you a final tour of the results and with checkbook in hand you wrote out the check for the assembly fee and handed it over only to giggle and sign out a few autographs for the crew. Excitedly they cleaned up the final things and headed on to their next stop while you found your house sketch journal and crossed off the five bed frames that were now completed. Hearing the hints that the guys were nearing the end of their build after you and Dwalin had eaten you broke out some of the supplies you had bought a few days prior making Dwalin smirk seeing the tray of bacon burgers and some steak fries. Sodas, water bottles were set out with plates around the table that you expanded.

Peering into the doorway as the men finished hoisting the mattresses onto the upper levels after having added the lower ones you watched them all look over the final effect then turned at the youngest one tapping the others and turning to see you. “Hi, looks good.”

The head man nodded and said, “We’re so glad you like them. Shouldn’t take long to clean up.”

“Well I made some burgers and fries, you guys look hungry.” Gratitude blended to compliments and muffled chatter through the meal they helped to clean up after filling the sink with ample thanks keeping hold of their still unfinished drinks they took out to the truck then got to cleaning up. The head builder showed you the finer details of everything and was pleased at your own climb up the steps between the beds to crawl into the two top beds. Checking each of the shelves came next and excitedly you thanked the team again and handed over the 2k check for the install fee they wrote you out a receipt. For them as well more pear circled J Pear autographs were handed out before their filing back into their truck leaving you alone again.

Already anticipating it Dwalin grinned in your tight hug around his middle he returned before asking, “Need my help for anything?”

You shook your head saying, “Was just gonna bring out the sheets and stuff for that room so I can wash them when I get back from the trip. In case you have to head home to pack or anything.”

With a grin he chuckled saying, “I am packed, Frodo however, is not. Everything does look amazing. I will see you on the plane, Dear.”

You nodded accepting his next hug, “See you then you big softie.” Making him chuckle and join you for the walk to your still open garage he backed out of allowing you to close it while he pulled away heading home again.

Exhaling sharply you went to bring out the things for that room you set in that room, which you smirked standing in admiring it all, including the curtains that you tied back and lowered the internal shades readying for your trip, a task you repeated in each guest room. Opening the greenhouse door again you gave the all clear that the house was all yours again. Dishes were next with enough in the washer to start it freeing you to head back to the living room to wait until you could put them away again.

Pt 31

#Thorin x Reader OC #Hobbit #lotr #Dwalin

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chaossmagic · 4 years

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take me into your loving arms (1/2)

Over the years, throughout the many ups and downs, one thing has always remained true; they feel safest and most at home in each other’s arms. They wouldn’t have it any other way.

A study in snuggles, physical closeness, and the non-sexual side of intimacy that Robert and Aaron both crave from each other.

read on ao3

Aaron thrashed in his sleep again, whimpering loud enough to wake Robert as suddenly and instantly as if someone had yelled in his ear; his heart started, lurched, eyes fixed in the semi-darkness on Aaron’s quaking figure under the covers, forehead shining with sweat and his face contorted into an expression that Robert swore caused his stomach to twist with the actual, physical pain of being punched.

Because that’s what it felt like, now, it had felt like for months. Aaron’s pain had become his own, and what he felt, Robert felt just as viscerally; or so it seemed to him, each time he felt a phantom stab of pain in his left forearm where the deep pink scar on Aaron’s was, or a ghostly voice that sounded like Gordon Livesy echoed inside his head when he knew it was ever-present in Aaron’s.

Aaron suddenly turned onto his side, his whole body snapping up into a ball as if he’d been burned; knees shoved under his chin, trying to make himself as small as possible even in sleep, protecting himself from an invisible foe that Robert couldn’t see.

Then he cried out, a horrible strangled half-scream that set every hair on Robert’s body on end, and he reacted without thinking; he sprang, shoving Aaron hard onto his back with one hand, the sudden force of movement waking him instantly with huge, gasping breaths and round, fearful eyes shining wet and glimmering with pain.

“Robert,” Aaron whimpered, arms flailing against the pillows as he came fully out of sleep - and then he started to sob, tears cascading down his cheeks and soaking the collar of his pyjama shirt, a ratty old grey thing with a large hole in one of the armpits that Robert remembered he’d snorted at when Aaron had put it on earlier that night. “Robert, Robert-”

“Sssh, sssh sssh,” Robert soothed, reaching up to bury his fingers in Aaron’s hair and stroke through the sleep-mussed curls, rough with frizz but silky soft against his skin at the same time. He kept his voice low as he spoke. “It’s okay. It’s alright, it was just a dream. Just a nightmare. S’okay.”

What Gordon did to him is real, though, his mind supplied bitterly, and a flare of anger rose up within him, hot as a live flame. He hated the man. Perhaps there had never been anyone he’d hated more, except for maybe his own father.

“M’scared of him, Robert,” Aaron sobbed, crying into the pillow, which kept his voice muffled but still audible. “He’s gone but I’m still so scared.”

“I know you are,” he replied quietly, matter-of-factly, without judging or bias. “I think that’s understandable, no-one will judge you for that.” A beat of silence followed, Robert keeping up his carding of Aaron’s hair, the way one might comfort a crying child but - more. Always so much more.

He dropped his hand suddenly, opening up his arms wide. “Come here. Come here, right up next to me, as close as you can get.”

Aaron looked up through wet eyelashes, wary, then wriggled across the gap between their bodies, shifting so that they were toe-to-toe and he was so close he could feel the heat radiating off of Robert’s sleep-warmed body.

“Closer,” Robert whispered, “like this.” He reached for Aaron’s arms and wrapped them around waist, pressing his palms flat against the expanse of his back, bringing their hips and chests together. He wound his own arms around Aaron and pulled him towards him, then threw one of his long legs over his hip, drawing him so close that Aaron lay against him from crown to toe and their hearts beat in synchronisation between them.

Robert craned his neck and rested his chin on the top of Aaron’s head, dropping down momentarily to press a quick kiss there.

“There,” he said, “is that better?”

“Yeah,” Aaron snuffled gratefully, his hands clenched into fists on Robert’s chest. “Yeah, loads. You’re so warm, it’s - it’s nice.”

“Good. That’s good, Aaron,” he wriggled closer, pressing his cheek to the top of Aaron’s head, and tightened his arms around him. He let out a contented sigh. “I just want to keep you safe.”

“I know,” Aaron said, “And you do.”

“He won’t hurt you ever again,” Robert said quietly. “I promise.”

But the promise was unheard, because Aaron had already fallen back to sleep.

ii.

Waking up in a sun-warmed room as the first light of morning started to creep through the curtains, the duvet tangled around his shoulders and the heavy, deep breaths of the man he loved filling his ears, Aaron thought he’d never had a better start to any kind of day. Not in a long, long time at least.

One arm was slung around Robert’s waist, fingertips brushing the material of the pyjamas he’d borrowed from him the previous night, just under his ribs and he could feel the rise and fall of his breath, a soothing rhythm that reminded Aaron of where he was, who he was with, and how everything that had felt so lost and directionless for months and months had finally sharpened back into focus with one clear sight eclipsing everything; Robert.

Robert, his Robert, his husband, back home. With him, where he belonged.

He moved closer and wound his arm tighter around Robert’s waist, burying his nose in the crook of his neck. Call him weird or sentimental or soppy, but he’d always loved the way Robert smelled; clean, fresh shampoo, heady cologne, the fabric softener he always insisted on putting in the washing machine even though Aaron moaned that it made his clothes smell like a flowerbed. Warm skin and freshly-brewed strong coffee, real Italian leather and the citrusy spray he always cleaned the inside of his car with, reminding Aaron of oranges and lemons ripening under a hot sun somewhere tropical and far away from Emmerdale, somewhere they might go eventually, just the two of them...

“Stop sniffin’ me, it’s a bit creepy,” Robert mumbled sleepily, as always sensing Aaron’s presence in that particular way that he did, and always had. “If the guy I pulled last night turns out to be a cannibal, I might have to go back to Mike the chef.”

“Ha ha,” Aaron said sarcastically. “Don’t even joke about that, as if I’m ever lettin’ you go again - which is never, in case last night wasn’t enough proof for ya.”

“I remember,” Robert sighed fondly, and Aaron knew there was a hint of a smile around his lips. “You shouted at me in the street.”

“Yeah, bit embarrassing that, wasn’t it?” Aaron joked, fake-cringing, and Robert’s chuckle vibrated through his chest and into Aaron’s own. God, he’d missed that sound, deep and rich and mellow like honey.

“Not to me,” Robert said seriously, quietly. “I’ve - I’ve never felt more special than that moment when you opened your mouth and started saying all that- what you said about me. You make me feel - well, not an entire waste of space.”

“I love you, ya muppet,” Aaron said simply, kissing the back of Robert’s neck softly. “What d’ya think I went to all that trouble for yesterday if I didn’t?”

“You’re Aaron Dingle and you like a bit of drama?” Robert suggested.

For that, Aaron kicked him lightly in the back of the shins. “Oi!” Then he kissed Robert’s neck again, harder, letting his beard scrape against the sensitive skin at the nape of his neck, where the ends of dark blond hair curled in close like wisps of cotton.

“Love you,” Robert murmured.

“I love you, too,” Aaron said back, resting his cheek on the jut of Robert’s shoulder, letting the beat of his heart in the line of his jaw lull him back to an easy doze as he thought of the silver rings stashed away beneath an old cushion in a drawer, and the question he was going to ask Robert when he woke up for real in just a few hours’ time.

iii.

The sounds of the woman they’d rented the cottage from receded slowly as she turned in for the night, the sound of the door closing between her house and the one in which they were currently staying letting a wash of relief flood over their tensed, highly-strung bodies. They lay side by side, cheeks pillowed on folded arms, just looking at one another, neither daring to be the first one to slip into a slumber lest they waste the precious minutes and hours they still had.

It was early evening still, warm orange light washing the room in a golden haze and the sound of twittering birds could be heard outside the window. The only other sound was the faint ticking of a clock, the burble of water pipes, and the sound of their breathing in unison as they drank each other in.

The bed was small, just large enough to fit them both if Robert drew his knees up like a cat curling up in the sun; their socked feet brushed together in a way that made Aaron giggle when the sensation made his toes tickle, and his nose wrinkled up with mirth whenever it did. It was a sight that drew an ever-wider smile from Robert, who stared and stared at his husband without so much as a blink or a flutter of an eyelash, wanting to commit every detail of his view to memory, just in case...

...In case it all went wrong.

The thought was painful, unbearable. Optimism and hope had to mask the fear that had settled in Robert’s stomach like a stone, threatening to bring him to his knees at any moment. He’d made Aaron stay in the living room under the pretence of getting him to relax while he made them brews, so he wouldn’t see his hands shaking as he poured out coffee and stirred spoons of sugar into the mugs. And he’d ran the taps in the sink at full blast and pretended he was washing his hands afterwards, when in reality he didn’t want Aaron to hear him being sick because of the anxiety that buzzed under every inch of his skin.

“What are you thinking about?” Aaron asked.

“You,” Robert said sincerely. “Us. How much I don’t want to lose any of this...time, when we’re on a clock.”

“We won’t. We’ll be together forever soon, you and me, and it’s - I’m got gonna lie, Robert, it’s going to be absolutely terrifying, at least at the start.” His lips quirked up into a slight smile. “But we’ll have each other. That’s what matters. That’s all that matters now, yeah?”

“You’re the very best part of me, Aaron Dingle,” Robert said hoarsely, reaching to take Aaron’s hand. He reciprocated, twining their fingers together so tightly that nothing could get through them, not even the evening half-light from the sun that was slowly setting behind the window blinds. Their matching rings shone, glinting like cut diamonds, throwing sparkles of light into their eyes.

They saw nothing but each other, the vast, unknown future ahead of them another day’s problem. For now, they both rested their gaze on their joined hands, keeping themselves connected and intertwined, until the very last minute when they’d have to break apart.

But they’d never be apart again, not for the rest of their lives.

#lorna's writing #robron #robron fic #aaron x robert #emmerdale fic #why yes the title is from thinking out loud by ed sheeran #and what about it??

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junk-and-clutter · 4 years

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Akatsuki Deidara x Katara / Mon. May 25. 2020

x Katara x Katara ached for sleep to come tonight but, as usual of late moving to the HIdden Leaf Village, her mulling mind prevented it. There is a cause for the clutter that has risen in these late hours. In too short for time, hour after restless hour, she’s battling matters in her vulnerable state. Being a few hours before sunrise && craved sleep so badly, but it has betrayed her once again. At this point, any sleep is an impossible prayer. Lying hollowly under familiar sheets, staring at an unfamiliar ceiling, inhaling scents, && sounds that hover. She couldn’t lie here any longer, everything her past / old life will seep through her mind && into her heart. && she wasn’t ready for that. Replacing the threat of remembering by DOING. Tussling the tangled sheets loose being as quiet as a mouse getting dressed fully armed. Pausing a moment to look && listen for movement. Confident she sneaked out through her bedroom window on the 2nd floor. Weary body loathing her mind’s resolve to escape her thoughts in the only way she’s found that worked ――― r u n n i n g. Not being able to spend another second bottled up in her thoughts, fretting over the unknown she could not predict ――― alter ――― or what role to play. The atmosphere is calm but swathed in the stench of Village.

Nostrils flare with each inhalation tracking the only scent she knew. Running easily through the moonlit streets hunting for a natural water source catching onto the aroma but all she ended up finding was water towers attached to facilities, backed up water gutters she took the time to unclog quietly && rain barrels. Paralyzing pulses radiate through each disappointment. She used to feel the WATER / w a v e s like a part of the tidal rhythm in her own body but coming here fringed creating an invisible barrier. Lifelessly sinking to some pit / quicksand bottom that was impossible to escape. Dumping the contents out of the rain barrel staring at the sludge water staining the ground in mild disgust && anger. Not staying in one place for too long the sound of splashing water was easy to hear by the trained ear. Searching for something that felt non existent. Scaling the tallest wall easily accomplishing the climb safely slinking on top of the roof. She slumped down so exhausted, bone-shaken with washed out frustration, && sharp breathless expression trying to catch her breath back. Deflated blue eyes staring out seeing the wide contours of Konohagakure ――― Village Hidden in the Leaves && inhabitants soaking it all in.

Atasuki Deidara

--- Deidara! That was his name, wasn't it? If he his memories served him, it was. But it sounded like it was shouted through water; distorted and barely made out syllables. He had died, hadn't he? Of course he had. b o o m; art. Art killed him. The finest displays one could ever hope to see, to dream. And yet, why did he feel as though he still lived, still felt the subtle cool grass between fingers. Unless-- Wait. Grass? He could feel the chill of their blades, rough like a cat's tongue. Maybe wherever he had ended up had grass. Maybe there were flowers; an endless field of fragrant flowers. He hoped that the peace he found would last forever. He did what he had felt was necessary, right? There wasn't much more in it than wanting to express himself in his art. That's the goal of every artist-- Were those birds? He could hear birds. Their alluring, soft calls just as soothing as the sounds of the wind brushing neatly through the tree

s; faint rustling that stimulated his brain in a positive manner. Perhaps he had found where it was they'd all ended up at in the end. Would he see them? See any of them? It was at this moment, sensations started to return to his extremities; cool ground, a bit damp.. hey, wait, was it raining? How long had that been going on? Can it rain after death? Pinpricks of cool water splash across his features, dampening his clothes and hair. It was at this moment that his eyes snapped open. There was no waiting sun to blind him, no waiting glow of some ethereal caregiver. No, it was just.. trees? and more trees. Wh-- Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion, like he was stuck in a vat of molasses and glue, unable to really move much more than a bit at a time. Truly an odd feeling, so leaden and rooted to the spot. It didn't dawn on him, until a deep breath had been taken, that his lungs burned with the lack of air up until that moment - pinpricks of acute pain

and discomfort began to flood the entirety of his form. Sensations spread across the entirety of his form, filling him with such intense anxiety that he shot straight upward, sitting up with a wild look in his gaze. Where the hell was he?! Confusion, anxiety, anger -- it was all too much for him. Throwing himself over on to his hands and knees, colorless bile-filled vomitus rose out of his mouth and splashed onto the ground. Blargh! You don't throw up in the afterlife, right? Staring at the puddle a moment before his eyes rolled up into his head, forcing him to fall back over, on to his back, once more. This wasn't supposed to be how it was, right? He didn't know what was going on anymore and there was little in his head or around him to properly convey the information he needed. Everything swam behind a thin layer of unshed tears as he felt another welling within the depths of his stomach, violently wrenching himself over again to let it go. Trembling from th

e efforts, he finally could start pulling himself away from the mess made and attempt to find his legs and arms. Those still worked, right? His patchwork arms and body were on display, with little in the way of modesty. Finding a tree, he forced himself upward, weakly, and draped himself on lower level situated branches. How long was he out for? A long time? Some time? Forever? His eyes were sunken in, skin taut over emaciated form. He didn't look good, but he wasn't subjected to the assault that would surely diminish his self-esteem and self-worth. At this point, the rain had picked up its war upon the earth and all exposed, including himself. Before he knew it, his hair was plastered about his wet and exposed skin. He looked paler as a result too; almost callow and withdrawn. Like a corpse.. It was hard to assess the level of damage properly right now. However, he knew that he wasn't quite himself anymore, there were pieces missing and mysteries unanswered.

x Katara x Deflated blue eyes staring out seeing the wide contours of Konohagakure ――― Village Hidden in the Leaves && inhabitants soaking it all in for a couple of hours. Until she could smell the scent of a new source of tainted water. Resulting in a potent stench that was easily detected from long distances. But it passed the comforts && safety of the Village. . . within the ancient forest that loomed && towered. She’d get in a lot of trouble if she got lost. . . but the feeling of curiosity && tension within herself battled. Bracing herself doing something stupid. Very stupid. Like a moth to a flame she wandered towards the lining trees. Gazing straight in front, between the old giant trees && what's lurking within. Curiosity was stronger than fear of the forest. Jogging into the old woods all alone && prepared to face unspeakable terrors. Adrenaline began filtering through her veins tracking the vile aroma within the sea of trees taking higher ground jumping from branch to branch weaved between trees, with a gentle mist-drizzled coating the air. Where she should feel excitement it was dread pooling deep in her stomach as she’d lose the vile water scent if she didn’t hurry. Finding the source! Only she tightened her jaw && shook her head. She tracked. . . threw up. . that's new but gross. So gross. Didn’t think that was even possible.

Keeping that alllll to herself. Since that’s not something to brag about. Squinting at the silhouette figure laying on the forest ground. She shot them a curious, almost sad look, plunging her hands into her leg holster pulling a vial out twisting the top as there was a sound of taking something out. Like a puppet losing its strings she collapsed onto her knees upon the forest floor above their head tilting her head gazing down at an unknown face. Not like that was very new, she was always staring at too many faces but none she knew. But not sure if she was staring at someone DEAD or a l i v e as much as she couldn’t tell if they were a BOY or g i r l. Though she had noticed that their hair was longer than she thought, && damp, darker blond, as water film reflected the glowing sheen of a lovely glittering hue. | Stop looking at them |, she thought, && closing her eyes, the way little kids do thinking it’s going to make herself invisible. But unfortunately when she peaked a second later, they were still there. Parting her lips to suck in some air to prepare herself, she choked ungracefully instead. . .Coughing into her sleeve, nervous. Not very sure what to do if its . . . well dead? Now the moment of truth were they DEAD or a l i v e she cracked an CINNAMON b a r k over there nose searching for an reaction out of them

Atasuki Deidara

Deidara was about as useful as a wet, plastic bag hanging on a tree branch. In the wake of his .. resurrection? Revival? Rewakening? -- He just didn't know how to process his surroundings. It was hard to look passed the film of disbelief and mild horror. As far has he had come to know, he was dead. The rain was soaking everything around it, making him soppy and wet as a result. His hair seemed to weigh so much as he stared through it, blankly. Some of the rain had slowly crept itself down across his features and into his eyes, which forced a blink out of him. But otherwise, he just couldn't be assed to move. To be honest, the intense pins and needles sensation was starting to ebb, allowing him to actually feel that he still had all of his limbs. At first, he had thought his arm gone, but there it was. He slowly started to move when he noticed movement, then heard a cough. Brows knit. He wasn't the

only one here? Ugh. And they'd see him like this? A barely dressed pancake, struggling to move his soppy wet form. How embarrassing. Then again, did he really care? Deidara was still staring out of a 'break' in his long, leaden blonde - someone was there, but he couldn't make out details or anything in particular. They were approaching. Despite the intense numbness, he stiffened up in reaction. He didn't think he could actually react quick enough to cause harm, but he wasn't going to simply go down again without a fight. As soon as she got close, he made an inhuman sound of alarm and jerked away from her. It wasn't long before he was dragging himself backward, his brain slow to process what might be benign in nature. The Missing-Nin simply couldn't let someone so close without good cause! But, the suddenness and the anxiety of it all only served to cause him more discomfort; his head shaken furiously. Still, h

e couldn't speak. If he could, he'd drink the water form the sky at this point. Who the fuck was this? His processing speeds weren't up to snuff unfortunately. But, he was trying to place her, still trying to maintain a fair bit of distance, even if he had to actively drag his ass everytime she attempted to close the gap. It should be noted that he looked a bit beaten up, a bit charred, and without his iconic cloak. In fact he was just in his fishnets, simple over shirt and beaten-to-shit pants; none of which were in good condition. Both of his arms showed signs of stitching and a portion of his right arm looked to be .. different altogether. His back was eventually flush against a tree trunk and, after some serious effort on his part, he spoke; "Stay.. away." Harsh, hoarse and almost lost in the hushed murmur of the rain that started to gain momentum, further washing the world of its latest sins.

x Katara x To Katara’s racing pulse hearing an inhuman sound of alarm coming out of them was beautiful to the ears. Blood hammered in her ears. Relief filled Katara knowing they were alive, but once they were beyond the illusion, doubts rose. She worried leaving her nervous && added to the strain. Who was this person, though? && how did they get here looking so beaten up && charred? Not knowing their name, their story. Nor what they’ve done, nor what they’ve been through by the options they had to choose from. Not judging his story by the chapter she’s walked in on. Even as a bystander, the one-sided exchange was painful. Gaze trailing their actions holding her breath watching them drag themselves backward, head shaken furiously. Only releasing her breath when they were eventually flushed against a tree trunk. Shutting her eyes && clenching her hands tightly until her knuckles turned white with half moons imprinted into calloused palms, resisting the urge to approach them ――― help them ――― she had to try, doing anything was better than doing nothing. But how do you help someone who won’t let her get near them. The conversation died for now && the only sound was there breathing && the rain. Welcoming the pelting rain upon herself, trickling down against her, shivering in delight. But this delightful && joyous reunion was tainted. The silence between them left her in what she had been avoiding && running from all along. What's kept her up night after night.

P a i n. Pain in every muscle. Pain && rage in every crease of her heart. Her heart skipping a beat while it ached wishing the pain in her chest would quiet down. Thoughts swallowed her. Her thoughts like her heart felt something much like a dying departed breath. Feeling the cold shock following the observance settle into her bones. These thoughts felt like pieces of a chain. Hooked && linked together, growing into a long chain that started to present like truth. How many fragments can a heart be broken into before it turned to a dust that could never be mended? She knew she wanted to continue this way of life && join in the ranks. Hand reaching for the headband feeling the outline miserably hidden underneath her clothes writhing in guilt because she didn’t want to trade it for another but she’s utterly powerless in the struggle. She didn’t want to face the chunnin selection exams to see her friends && team she was forced to leave behind && who’s replaced her. The burning image of her old sensei on the other side while she stood beside another. For all that she's lost && to the future that she’ll have to endure. Taking the first step to that f u t u r e by helping the person across from her. Clenching her eyes shut. Her mind raced through the possibilities as she tried to approach a different angle. She tried to fill the silence with conversation. “You display yourself like you’re not ready to descend ―― deep into the arms of what will destroy you if we stay like this. . . So . . let me help you. Let me at least try. What do you have to lose?”

#x katara x #deidara akatsuki #katara x deidara #v.naruto

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