#ori voice: literally why do any of you still trust me

[officialrickshades]

UH OH ! LITTLE GUY OOPSIE MOMENTS! WAS JUST HAVIN A LITTLE SILLY! moments happened in my epithet based campaign and im SHAKING MY CHARACTER VIOLENTLY.

[7-wonders]

Like an Animal

Summary: Duncan finds himself in big trouble when he gets trapped in an elevator with you the night before his shift and in the midst of his heat.

Word Count: 3504

A/N: WEREWOLF DUNCAN SMUT Y’ALL! If you guys like listening to songs I listened to while writing this, I would highly suggest listening to ‘Closer’ by Nine Inch Nails. Enjoy!

It’s risky and downright stupid for Duncan to be out right now, but he had no choice. There just had to be a paperwork crisis at work that he had to deal with, and he’s ‘lucky’ to live close enough to work that he can easily run in and sign the paperwork instead of the company sending a courtier with his apartment. At least it’s a quick fix, allowing Duncan to slip in and out of the building when everyone but the janitors have gone home for the evening.

He pulls his jacket tighter around him as he steps out into the cool night, body automatically responding to the sight of the nearly-full moon hanging low in the sky. Before the bite, Duncan never paid much attention to the time of the month. Why bother, when his assistant was always able to remind him right before whatever commitments he had to deal with? After the bite, Duncan became meticulous when it came to dealing with his schedule. After all, he’d most likely be locked up in a mental institution if he asked his assistant to track the moon so he could plan around his shifts.

Most werewolves were fortunate enough to only have to go through a shift. They would take a couple of days off of work, drive out to a secluded place where there’s no one around for miles, and allow the beast to have control of their bodies. Some chained themselves up in solitude, while others embraced the ‘gift’ that was lycanthropy; they would join in packs, drinking and eating and partying while they shifted. Alphas, however, are different. Seeing as how the future of the pack depends on them, the Alpha goes through both a shift and a heat to allow for multiple chances at reproduction.

Alphas don’t turn during their heats, but the beast is as potent as it is during a shift. Those with mates can hide it well but others, like Duncan, take a few additional days off so as not to accidentally hurt someone or lose control. Duncan, unfortunately, is an Alpha. Even worse, he doesn’t have a mate. Devastatingly, his heat syncs up during the full moon this month.

Needless to say, he’s hustling to get home. Duncan even skipped taking an Uber to and from the office, figuring it’s quicker to walk the short distance between home and work. The cold air does wonders for his flushed skin and sweaty palms as he begins his walk, even with the moon calling to him. Thankfully, the streets are largely deserted tonight. Even with these small blessings, Duncan’s more than ready to go home and finish riding out his heat by himself.

Somehow, Duncan makes it to his apartment’s elevator without seeing another soul around. Harshly pressing the button for his floor, he watches his reflection come together as the doors start to close.

“Wait, please!” A voice calls from outside the doors. A sneaker appears between the pieces of metal, forcing the doors open again and allowing you to slip inside. Duncan tenses at the sight of you, but remains largely unbothered until he breathes in your scent. Then, he realizes that he’s in trouble.

Although you’re human, your pheromones call to him like none he’s ever smelt before. It certainly doesn’t help that you’re clad in only a tank top and running leggings, the sweat from your workout only increasing your scent output. The effect your scent has on Duncan affects him like a drug, making him dizzy with lust. His canines start to lengthen in response, and he has to grit his teeth to keep from reaching over and marking you right where you stand.

You go to press the button to your floor, but pull back when you notice what floor is lit up.

“We live on the same floor.” You note cheerfully, smiling at Duncan. He shoots you a tense, tight-lipped smile of his own.

“How convenient.”

“I’m (Y/N).” You say after a moment of silence. “I just moved in last week.”

“Duncan.” He responds, glancing at the LED numbers as he wills them to change faster. “You shouldn’t be running at night, you know. You never know what might be out there.”

You laugh, a sound that strikes Duncan as melodic.

“And you do?”

“More than you would suspect.”

Damn this elevator, of course it slows down when he needs it to go faster. Duncan’s almost ashamed at how painfully hard he is now, after barely having a full conversation with you. The longer he spends in this small lift with you, the more difficult it is to restrain himself and act like everything is normal. It’s largely silent until the floor below your destination, when you decide to speak again.

“So, what do-” A gasp interrupts your question as the elevator shudders, a harsh groaning sound accompanying the movements. It grinds to a halt, the lights flickering before going out. It’s pitch black for mere seconds before the emergency lights flicker on, painting your face in a red glow. You’re looking around in fear, questioning how long it’s going to take before you’re rescued, but Duncan only has one expression on his mind as his eyes widen.

He’s fucked.

Duncan has to bite the inside of his cheek in order to hold back the growl he can feel rumbling in his chest. This is, arguably, the worst possible situation for him to be in right now. His inner monologue is interrupted when he picks up on your panicked breathing, the protective alpha nature in him pushing aside the side of him that wants nothing more than to fuck you like it’s his last day on Earth. You��re sitting on the floor, back pressed against the wall as you try to ground yourself. Your arms are wrapped around your knees and your eyes are shut tight while you try desperately to control your breathing and not freak out.

“Hey, (Y/N), look at me.” Duncan speaks softly, crouching down to be on your level while still keeping his distance so as not to make you freak out more.

“H-how long do you think it’s gonna take for someone to fix the elevator?” You question, still keeping your eyes shut.

“It shouldn’t be too long now.”

He’s lying through his teeth; he doesn’t have a clue when anybody’s going to come across the broken elevator and call for help, but he doesn’t want you to go into a full-blown panic attack. You nod, breathing out harshly through your nose as you repeat to yourself that it won’t be too long.

“Duncan?” You call, making the man hum in acknowledgement. “I know we literally just met, but would you hold my hand? Please?” It’s now that Duncan realizes he would hang all the stars in the sky by hand if you asked him to.

“Only if you open your eyes for me. Can you do that?” It takes you a moment, but finally your eyes flutter open and Duncan smiles softly. “Hey there, gorgeous.”

“Hey.” You say shyly, tightly gripping his large hand between both of yours.

“Why are you so scared? Nothing’s going to happen to us.” I won’t allow it, he thinks to himself as he studies your face.

“I don’t like being stuck in enclosed spaces.” You mutter, eyes glancing around the elevator as if to prove just how small it really is. Checking your phone to see if there’s any service, you huff and slam it down onto the ground next to you. “Dammit!”

In all honesty, Duncan’s starting to echo your hopeless sentiments. The longer your hands are clasped around his, the harder it is for him to control himself. Although it hasn’t been an exponentially long time since Duncan was bitten (maybe a year and a half, if he does the math right), he’s still never feared the beast taking over him like he does right now. He’d never hurt you of course, he can’t even bare the thought of you being hurt, even if you did just meet. When Duncan stands and pulls you up with him, you remain silent, but your confused look tells a different story.

“I’m getting us out of here.” He declares, begrudgingly letting go of your hands.

“What? How the hell are you going to manage that?” Your voice drips with bewilderment, but it’s better than the panic you were previously experiencing.

“Just trust me, okay?” He’s half-expecting you to shake your head and call him crazy. Instead, he’s pleasantly surprised when you sigh before nodding.

“Okay. I trust you.” Duncan bites his lip, hiding a smirk as he turns to face the large doors.

It’s entirely too easy for Duncan to pry open the doors of the elevator, the screeching sound of the metal causing his sensitive ears to ring in pain. He only has to use a small fraction of the supernatural strength with which he’s gifted, and he can practically sense how in awe you are over the entire thing. The lift stopped in between floors, but there’s enough of a gap that you and Duncan will both easily be able to get up onto the floor you both live on.

“Come here, I’ll help you up onto the next floor.” You’re still extremely confused, but you do as he says regardless.

Duncan places both hands on your hips, whispering in your ear for you to ‘jump’ so he can help you reach the floor. He’s mildly impressed with how strong you are, barely needing to keep you suspended in the air while you lift yourself onto the floor and out of the elevator. After catching your breath and standing up from the carpeting that makes your skin feel like it’s crawling, you turn around to help Duncan out of the elevator. Instead, you stumble back with a gasp when you see the man already towering above you.

“How’d you get out of there so fast?” He chuckles, straightening his jacket on his lean figure.

“Just adrenaline, I guess.” Duncan can tell that you’re not satisfied with that answer, but you leave it alone for now. “Where do you live?”

“Eight fifteen.”

“I live in the other direction. Guess this is it.”

Duncan would be lying if he said he was relieved that this is where you part ways. Although it’s probably a good thing, considering his current ‘condition,’ he wants to get to know you more. Even if he hadn’t originally been drawn towards you for your scent, your alluring personality is more than enough to keep him coming back. Unfortunately, now is really not the time to hold a conversation with the object of his infatuation.

“Guess so.”

“I’ll see you around, (Y/N).” He turns to go, more than ready to lock himself in his apartment and pretend that his hand is yours for the rest of the night, but your quiet voice stops him.

“I’ve met others like you, you know.” Duncan stiffens, slowly facing you again.

“Others...like me?” Glancing around to make sure the hall is deserted save for the two of you, you move closer to Duncan.

“Werewolves.” You whisper, causing Duncan’s blood to run cold.

It’s a split-second, rash decision that he makes when he grips your wrist and drags you towards his apartment. In this moment, he’s not thinking about you as a potential mate. He’s thinking of you as a potential threat. It’s a little irrational, of course, but he’s so close to his shift that it’s mildly difficult for him to think rationally.

“How do you know about werewolves? You’re not one.” Duncan hisses after you’re both safely in his apartment and away from any possible prying ears.

“An astute observation, Duncan.” You note, smirking.

“Now is really not the time for jokes. How do you know about werewolves?” He repeats, watching you flinch at the deep growl that rumbles in his chest.

“My childhood best friend and her family were werewolves. I spent so much time with them growing up that they trusted me enough to tell me their secret.”

“Born or bitten?”

“Born, all of them.” Duncan hums, biting his thumbnail; a nervous habit he’s never been able to shake.

“How were you able to tell so easily?” He asks finally.

“You all act the same around the full moon, whether you were born a wolf or bitten and turned to one.” Your confident facade quickly changes when Duncan steps closer to you, trapping you against the wall as he leans his arms on either side of your head.

“You’re so knowledgeable, little human.” Duncan mutters, watching intently as your eyes lock with his. He shouldn’t be teasing you like this, but he honestly can’t help himself anymore. He’s been around you for far too long with no sort of resolution, and he needs something. Friction, affection, tenderness--he needs you. “Tell me, since you know so much about werewolves, do you know what kind of werewolf I am?”

“Hopefully not the kind that eats people?” Duncan smirks, shaking his head.

“Not what I meant. In every pack, there’s three different parts of the hierarchy. The alpha, the beta, and the omega. Betas and omegas are basically equal in the pack hierarchy, and they share many of the same characteristics. Alphas, however, are the leaders. The protectors. The one who the longevity of the pack depends on.”

“So you’re an alpha, then?” You squeak. The tension in the room is nearly electric, both of your chests heaving as you face each other. He can tell that you’re wracking your brain, trying to remember the werewolf history that your friend must have told you growing up. “It’s not just the moon for you.”

He’s pleased at how fast you catch on; apparently they taught you well.

“Not this month, unfortunately.”

It goes unspoken what Duncan’s currently going through, but even if you weren’t aware of his Alpha nature, the blown pupils and hungry way he stares at you would have given you more than enough visual clues. You’ve never done anything like what you’re currently considering. You’re not even sure why this is an idea now; it could be the chemistry that you’ve felt from the moment you stepped inside that elevator, like two magnets of opposite polarities being pulled towards one another. Maybe it’s how kind he was to you after the elevator had stopped, helping a near-stranger who was trying not to freak out. It’s also impossible to deny just how damn attractive he is. You run out of time to ponder the reasons behind what you’re about to do when Duncan leans in and presses his lips against yours.

The kiss is everything Duncan thought that it would be, your soft lips easily parting to allow him access to your mouth. Your hands wrap in his hair and tug him closer, and he moans loudly when you grind against him. He nips at your bottom lip in response, causing you to pull away with a giggle.

“What?” He questions, only slightly hurt that your reaction to making out with him is to giggle.

“You bit me! Do I need to roll up a newspaper and whack you on the nose with it?” Duncan rolls his eyes, but your contagious giggles soon have him laughing too.

“Dog jokes, how original.”

“I’m sorry, I just couldn’t help myself.” You blush, leaning your forehead against his.

“And I can’t help myself either.”

You shriek when Duncan lifts you up, your head as he carries you over his shoulder to his bedroom. He playfully slaps your ass before tossing you on the bed, both of you feverishly removing your clothes. Since you didn’t have much on to begin with, you lean back and watch as Duncan’s surprisingly muscled body is revealed to you. Duncan looks at you knowingly when your jaw drops at the sight of him, already fully erect and with precum beading at his swollen tip. He hates to sound conceited, but he knows how well-endowed he is. A full seven inches and thick enough to make any woman (or man) tear up at the mere thought of taking all of him.

“You, (Y/N), are a vision of perfection.” Duncan crawls towards you, laying you back against the pillows while he savors getting to kiss you again. The blush that paints your face when he pulls back to look at you could rival the most pink and vibrant sunset he’s ever seen. His hands ghost across your bare abdomen while he travels down your body, laying a path of hot kisses along the way.

“Duncan, don’t tease.” You whine, shuddering when his icy blue eyes meet yours while he’s situated in the valley of your thighs.

“If you insist.” With that he dives down between your thighs, slowly sucking on your clit.

He knows he’s being a bit of a jerk as you arch above him, desperate for him to speed up his movements. Duncan licks a stripe from your clit down to your entrance, circling it with his tongue a few times. You taste incredibly sweet to him, and the moans he makes against your core at finally getting to taste you have you crying out in pleasure. Not willing to stop eating you out but wanting to actually get to experience his own pleasure, he places his thumb against your clit and starts rubbing shapes on it.

“Duncan, please!” You cry, throwing your head back against the pillows.

You’re seeing stars at this point, and Duncan’s painfully hard against his own thigh while he works on drawing out your first orgasm. He switches his fingers and his tongue, sucking on your clit while humming the tune of his favorite song. It’s only a few more moments before you come undone above him, yelling out his name and grabbing the bedsheets with your fists. Duncan surges back up to kiss you, and you moan at the taste of yourself on his lips.

“Hands and knees, (Y/N).” Duncan mutters against your lips, sitting back on his knees while you eagerly get into the position that he asked of you. His eyes roll back in his head when you teasingly wiggle your ass for him, turning your head to give him a cheeky smile. “Don’t tease.”

You laugh before falling silent, watching with rapt attention as he rips open a condom package with his teeth and quickly rolls the material onto his length. You’re suddenly a little nervous, which Duncan immediately picks up on.

“Hey, if it gets to be too much, just tell me to stop and I will.” You nod, smiling to reassure him.

“I’m ready.”

Duncan places his hands on your hips, pulling you back towards him. He caresses the swell of your ass with one of his large hands before using it to guide his length to your entrance. You gasp when his thick head pushes past you, clenching your eyes shut at the feeling. He goes slowly, carefully thrusting inch by inch until he’s fully sheathed inside of you. Duncan’s already sweating, trying to focus on anything to keep from cumming early.

“You’re so fucking tight (Y/N), gonna make me cum before we even start.”

“Duncan, please move.” You moan loudly, head falling against the bed when he pulls out before thrusting all the way back in.

Duncan sets a brutal pace that has you clenching a pillow between your teeth to muffle your screams, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing off of the walls. He’s growling above you, and you gasp when you look over your shoulder to glimpse at him. His eyes are bright red, the color that denotes an Alpha, and his canines have elongated to fangs. You should be scared, but instead you’re even more turned on, a fact that has Duncan smirking.

“Oh, please don’t stop!” You cry, the rough thrusting dizzying you. Duncan pulls you up so that your back is against his chest, one hand on your hip while the other cups one of your breasts. The new angle makes you actually scream out loud, which Duncan responds to by sliding his fingers in your mouth.

You cum first, keens slipping out around his fingers while you shake in his grasp. Your eyes roll back into your head as you go limp, the pleasure of your orgasm jolting through you. Duncan continues rutting into you deeply, growling louder than you thought possible while he fucks you through your orgasm. Finally he comes as well, and you’re shocked at the disappointment you feel that he didn’t get to cum in you. You both collapse against the bed, Duncan removing his condom and tossing it in the trash before pulling you against him.

“So, wanna go on a date sometime?” Duncan jokes, loving how it feels to have you laughing against him. If he has it his way, you’ll be laughing against him for a long, long time to come.

Tag List: @khaleesimel @sammythankyou @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26 @langdonslove @heda-mikaelson @readsalot73@jimmlangdon @sebastianshoe @let-me-try-mom@trimbooohgodplsnoooo @pastel-cloudz @nana15774@queencocoakimmie @lichellaw @ultragibbycentralworld @grim-adventures58 @dolceandchalamet @dandycandy75@alexcornerblog @everything-is-awesomesauce @ccodyfern@wroteclassicaly @lvngdvns @langdonsdemon @trelaney @rocketgirl2410 @your-daddy-langdon @starwlkers @michaellangdong 

[ladybugg1235]

Collision part 2

Thorin x modern human reader

Woo weee I Finnally finished it drove me crazy putting it together but I did it i hope you like this is gonna get a little bit into Thorin's thoughts a bit it was very challenging but I gave it my best sorry for any misspelling punctuations ect let me know what you think but :)

If somebody would have told you that when you woke this morning that you would be sent to middle earth (in the nude no less) sitting around a campfire with 13 dwarves a hobbit and a wizard you'd probably laugh in their faces and tell him to lay off the weed. Right? Right But here you are....

A long night it was indeed....

"Who are you .."

You were completely tongue-tied your mind buzzing Thorin's gaze never wavered he was very direct and to the point and very much in your bubble (not that you minded much )his head cocked one side then to the other. He practically towered over you ..wait what?

he's much taller then I expected you thought did I shrink or something?

What seemed like hours but only a minute you Finally snapped out of it

"Well....My name is y / n and I'm not from this world I -..." And that's when fili and kili butted their way in conversation literally pushing there uncle to the side oh boy ..if looks could kill but surprisingly Thorin remained quite allowing the boys to take over and boy did you get an ear full..

"Where did you come from?" "Well I-"

"Are you a witch of some sort ? " You scoffed at that. "No but-"

"What are you?" "Human the last time i checked"

"Why is your hair that color?" orie piped in wait what ? Oh yeah the bright h/c highlights you giggled to yourself.

Well at least the shock of your naked arrival has passed..

"Where are your clothes " "do you not wear any where you come from not very proper for a lady you know dori added "Well I-"

Ok guess not still on that I see...

The questions just kept on coming And these where just a few.

"OK ok you guys one at a time your giving me whiplash" you giggled as you looked at kili and fili's eager faces the rest of the company just as eager

"Well as I was saying I'm not from middle earth and no I'm not a witch but one did send me here and trust me that was a shock on it's own And yes I did have clothes to start and bag now that I'm thinking about it where on earth-"

As if on que a black camping pack fell out out of sky landing at your feet

Oh My God Really you send this to me now sigh oh. Well beggars cant be choosers ..

You snatched it up and looked through it sure enough was a few modern day things to not only get you through this out of this world trip but a little proof of your world to show to the company and yes clothes!!!

After you dressed in real clothes you continued on explaining the basic of your world showing the company a few modern day electronics from your bag. Giggling and smiling at their reactions

All the while You couldn't help but notice how quiet thorin was he hasn't said a word since as he lingered in the back he appeared to be listening but his eyes said something entirely different hmmm you thought was he offended from before you hoped not if there was anyone that you needed trust and approval from it was him

What was going on in that head of his.

Thorin pov

Thorin watched you quietly listening intently but yet his mind was at War. He was very curious about you cautious but curious never in all his years has he ever met or seen a woman like you before never had really cared but there was something about you ..... Something stirred within him the moment you appeared but he couldn't place it.. It unnerved him

You talk differently than the human maidens he's seen or come across you were quite small for a human reaching just under his chin but there was a fire in you that demanded to be seen and heard. He could hear it in your voice he could see it in your eyes. Needles to say he was very observant.

Your hair was the most striking feature to him never in his life has he seen such hair color on any race in Middle Earth it intrigued him.

He continued to watch you as you proceed on talking and passing strange contents from your bag from the sky with a big smile on your face giggling at the reactions of the company

Seeing this His thoughts Drifted back to you and the first thing you said to him

His name.. It was a whisper but he heard you loud clear

you spoke it as if you knew him your eyes lit up at the same time then you smiled it was bashful yet bright as the morning sun . It was a sight that nearly warmed his heart he shook his head the image of you on top of him naked those eyes that smile the way his name rolled off your tongue your face so close to his he couldn't move he couldn't breathe still all to fresh in his mind frustrated and confused for thinking such things..

ridiculous he thought. Standing up abruptly pushing his way to the front of the company

"I think that's enough for tonight. We have a long journey ahead of us. We'll discuss this in the morning I'll take first watch" and with that said and one last look at you Thorin turned and perched himself on a slight cliff rock a small ways from company gazing out into the distance .

To be continued....

@fizzyxcustard @tiredwritersworld

@apploosa84 @imusicfreak @lunasnow20. @burningcoffeetimetravel @thewarriorandtheking @the-durin-boys @ithilwen-lionheart @legolaslovely and many more i missed😳

[cassowariess]

The Things We Want

Pairing(s): Bofur x Bilbo

Rating: T

Warnings: None (that I know of?)

Words: 2,049

His mother had taught him that what someone wanted did not always align with what a loved one needed.

When he had been a dwarfling he had caught a shiny, green beetle in a jar and excitedly brought it into the kitchen where his mother was preparing the evening meal.

“Look, amad! I found him in the grass!”

She had knelt down to look, smiled and patted him on the head.

“Just make sure you let it go when you're done looking at it.”

“Why?”

“Because it'll die if you don't.”

“I don't want it to die, but I want to keep it. I can feed it!”

“Sometimes the best way to care for something is to let it go.”

“I don't want to let it go!”

“Bofur, it's not about wanting. It's about caring and doing the right thing. That insect needs to be outside in the grass. That is where it belongs.”

Bofur sniffled, the tears threatening to spill. His mother softened and knelt next to him.

“Sometimes if we love something we have to give it what it needs, not what we want. And who knows? You might see it again in the grass. It might be the very same bug.”

Bofur clung to the jar. After a moment of sullenly looking down at his shoes, he said: “Can I keep it for tonight and let it go in the morning?”

“Yes, I think that would be okay.”

The beetle did not survive the night.

Bofur had wailed loudly and his mother never scolded him, never said “I told you so” or anything of the sort, but he learnt a lesson anyway.

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Bofur enjoys being around the hobbit. A small, fussy thing that seems to become riled up easily, and oh how glorious it is when the halfling sputters and fusses and becomes flustered and his face turns red. Though he's wonderful to tease, Bofur tones it back a bit when he sees Bilbo become visibly distressed.

“I'm only joshing, ye know,” he says. “I don't mean it. I do it to Bombur all the time too and he's me brother.”

Bilbo is beginning to calm down from his latest bout of irritated, flustered stammering.

“I only tease people because I think they'll get a laugh out of it too. It's no fun if the teasing starts to hurt people I care about.”

“That's more than the rest of this lot do.”

“They care! It'll just take a while for them to warm t'ya.”

Bilbo looks as though he might cry.

“Bilbo, I really didn't mean it. Truth be told, you've been a bâheluh ta me on this quest.”

“What does that mean?”

Bofur looks up at him.“It means friend of all friends.”

“Like a best friend?”

“Aye.”

Bofur had very much enjoyed the evenings when he and Bilbo would sit and swap stories and songs. They'd even come up with a tune they'd entitled: “The Man in the Moon stayed up Too Late.” But it was clear Bofur's abrasive humour wasn't always what a tired, grumpy hobbit would find amusing.

Bombur elbows Bofur in the side. “Bofur,” he scolds. “We aren't supposed to speak the secret language to people who aren't dwarves.”

“We can trust Bilbo,” says Bofur confidently, and turns to Bilbo with a wink. “Ye won't tell anyone, will ye Bilbo?”

A soft smile appears on the halfling's face. “I won't,” he says brightly, pleased to have been privy to something that was meant to be kept secret.

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Bofur clings to the hobbit, dragging him as far from the cliff face and against the wall as he possibly can. His heart is beating wildly in his chest. If Thorin hadn't gotten there in time the hobbit would have fallen. He's glad the rain hides his tears of relief. He and Ori continue to fuss over the burglar while Dwalin pulls up their king, who admonishes Bilbo.

Bofur knows the look on Bilbo's face. All the work he'd done to try to get the hobbit to feel accepted was coming undone. He hopes Bilbo doesn't decide to leave them. Yes, he has Bifur and Bombur to keep him company, among a crowd of high born dwarves but neither of them are very talkative, or at least, don't talk as much about things that interest Bofur, like songs and stories. The hobbit likes to talk about comforting things, and Bofur also feels less alone when Bilbo confides his fears in him. For Bofur is sometimes afraid of what they might encounter on this mad adventure too, and it makes him feel safer to know that he isn't the only one that is afraid, and safer still when he can protect Bilbo from things that might hurt him.

But he's not been very good at it so far. He'd not been able to reach the hobbit on the cliff face, and he'd not been able to protect him from the king's words.

So when he asks where Bilbo thinks he's going when the halfling tries to sneak past him on his watch, deep down he already knows.

“Back to Rivendell.”

Bofur pleads with him not to leave and Bilbo ends up hitting a tender spot within Bofur when he says they don't belong anywhere.

“I am sorry!” Bilbo looks all flustered and embarrassed and this time it isn't amusing.

“No, you're right. We don't belong anywhere” whispers Bofur.

But Bilbo does. He has his green Shire to go back to, where he'll be safe and happy and healthy. It's what the hobbit needs. Bofur pats his friend on the shoulder.

“I wish you all the luck in the world. I really do.”

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Thorin is pacing within the walls of Erebor and Bofur feels like he is trapped in a cage with a panther that could lash out at any moment. Or maybe it's more like being around a dragon.

The king is hoarding Bilbo. Bofur is as sure that the king is trying to hoard him as he is the huge mountain of gold they are all sitting on. Thorin rarely leaves Bilbo's side, whispers to Bilbo in dark corners. Shoots glares at everyone.

The halfling weathers it but he often looks uncomfortable.

They are all uncomfortable. Thorin's flaws have been completely magnified until they are distorted, twisted versions of what they once were—simply flaws, as any dwarf would have. Now they are dangerous things and Bofur isn't sure that one of them wouldn't die if they opposed him.

He can never get near enough to Bilbo to speak to him. He fears for all of them, but he fears for the little burglar the most.

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He catches Bilbo trying to escape.

“You should be inside, out of the wind,” he says, thinking he doesn't want the burglar to catch a cold. The thought seems incredibly silly given they are on the brink of war, but he can't help but voice it.

“No, I'm just...getting some air,” says Bilbo, looking rather nervous. “The place stinks of dragon.”

Bofur gives him a knowing look and the corners of his moustache twitch in an involuntary smile.

“No one could blame a soul for wishing themselves elsewhere,” says the dwarf.

Bilbo does a double take at him and Bofur looks up at the stars. “Must be near midnight! Bombur's got the next watch. It'll take a bit to wake him.”

He starts walking down the stairs to the hall.

“Bofur!”

He turns and looks at Bilbo.

“I will see you in the morning,” says the hobbit, who looks as if he's beating back tears.

“Goodbye, Bilbo,” Bofur manages to say with the steadiest voice he can muster.

He turns away again, giving the burglar his chance to escape, and he realizes in that sharp, clear moment that he has freed something he wanted to keep so very badly.

He reaches the room he shares with his brother and nudges him awake. When Bombur leaves to take up his post, Bofur curls up in bed, still covered in armour. There's no point in taking it off. They all might die tomorrow. At least Bilbo would be safe though. At least he will have gotten away. Bofur falls into a restless sleep. He dreams of shiny beetles that melt away into gold coins.

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On any other morning, Bofur would have been delighted to see the hobbit. Instead he feels terrified as Thorin threatens to throw the halfling onto the rocks below. He's about to rush towards the king when Gandalf's thundering voice saves the day.

Bofur quickly bundles up the hobbit as Thorin shoves him to one side. He feels too much at once. Fear, elation that Bilbo is alive, anger that he didn't stay away, and the crushing knowledge that this is going to be the third time he has to say goodbye to the hobbit, for there is no other option.

Instead all he manages is “I'm sorry...go.” The words feel inadequate but there all he can manage. He wishes he could nurse his heartache, but war has been declared and there is no time.

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The fourth time he says goodbye to Bilbo, he feels he has no right to say anything to the halfling. Bilbo has watched three of his friends die on the battlefield. The rest of them were lucky enough to come out physically unscathed. He feels guilty that the hobbit came on this quest in the first place. He feels guilty that Bilbo has been through so much for them. He now owns 1/14th of a share of the treasure in the mountain. He's now one of the richest dwarves in Middle Earth and it feels like none of it was worth it because of what it put Bilbo through. None of it was worth the deaths of a king and his sister sons either. He doesn't even want it.

Of course he wants to beg the hobbit not to leave. He wants to hug him, tell him everything that he feels. But he can't. It isn't right. It's not what Bilbo needs. He needs to go home to his cozy hobbit hole and garden and lush green fields. And what Bofur wants isn't as important as what Bilbo needs.

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It is a year later when a letter arrives via raven.

Bofur, now a wealthy dwarf, has used a miniscule portion of his fortune to hire a tutor. While he's now not as literate as he'd like to be, he's making good progress. So are Bifur and Bombur. He'd been reluctant to learn to read, but once he realized he was going to be surrounded by upper class dwarves with better education, he made sure he'd taken steps to ensure he and his family weren't out of their depth.

So he's still unfamiliar with some of the words on paper, but there are some that leap out at him on the page.

Miss you

Need

Lonely

Bâheluh

Bofur's eyes grow wet as he reads the last word.

He rushes off to find Bifur and Bombur. He'll need to tell them why he's leaving.

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It's raining, and the daylight has faded, but Bofur can still make out the shape of Bilbo lying next to him in the dark. Having dwarvish eyesight certainly helps, and he is glad of it.

He runs a thick finger gently over the slope of the sleeping hobbit's back, revelling in the feel of soft skin. Then he gently touches the hobbit's face, carefully rubbing his thumb over Bilbo's cheek. The calming sound of the rain thudding on the roof of the smial and the soft breathing of the little creature next to him make Bofur feel a thousand times more contented than being in a mountain filled with gold and elite dwarrow.

Bilbo shifts in the dim light. “Mmm...Bofur?” he says. “What time is it?”

“Not sure,” says the dwarf truthfully. His eyes never leave Bilbo's face, his hand carefully showing Bilbo how much he adores him by roaming over soft curls and the curve of his ear.

Bilbo giggles, and even in the dark Bofur can tell his face is red and flustered.

“What are you staring at?” Bilbo laughs.

“You,” says Bofur.

And as the former burglar's lips meet his, he laughs happily into Bilbo's mouth in the knowledge that finally, he has found something he wants that he can keep.

[imaginexhobbit]

Con Amore

Author | Imagine | AO3 Link

AN: In case anyone was wondering Con Amore is Italian (aka the language of music) for With Love. Some slight angst ahead, but I hope you enjoy!

     Falling into Middle Earth had been, well…

     Unexpected was probably the understatement of the century. Or Age. If you remembered right, Lord of the Rings lore had always been told regarding different Ages.

     Falling, on the other hand, was probably a bit of an over-exaggeration. It was less a fall and more…random transportation. Not that you were complaining! You’d been taking a walk in the woods around your home town, violin case strapped over your shoulder as you searched for a quiet place to practice. Idyllic bliss had been what you were going for, but then all of a sudden, instead you’d gotten a company of thirteen dwarves, a hobbit, and a wizard all surrounding you, a particularly broody Thorin Oakenshield glaring at your sudden appearance. Honestly, it was probably just a lucky thing he hadn’t decided to kill you for your unexplained presence. Even luckier when Gandalf decided to let you tag along (apparently visitors from another dimension were of interest to wizards. Who would’ve guessed?)

     On one hand, it was actually nice, in a way. Middle Earth was pretty damn idyllic, especially by the time you didn’t have to keep looking over your shoulder in fear of more death glares. But on the other, you really did miss home. You’d been in rehearsals for a musical, and it was never far from your mind now, snippets of songs constantly flitting through your head to the beat of the horses’ hooves.

     “I don’t mean to be rude, but,” Kili appeared at your side, practically out of nowhere. How lost had you gotten in your own head? “What is that you’re singing? I’ve never heard it before.”

     “Come now, lad,” Bofur was suddenly at your other side. Were dwarves normally this stealthy? You never would’ve guessed. “Our songs are different than those of men. I would be surprised if any of our number could recognize their songs.”

     “I’d be surprised, too,” you interrupted, “but, probably not for the same reasons you’re thinking of.” Really, the only songs you could remember from Middle Earth were the one sung by Tom Bombadil. And Pippin’s song. The movies really didn’t do justice to all the song writing in the books. “The thing I’m singing – it’s comes from the same place I do. Not from here. Actually,” you laughed a little, “you might catch me doing this a lot. All of them come from my world.”

     “Oh!” Kili’s eyes brightened, a smile on his lips. “Could you perhaps sing them to us? I’m certain you have an incredible voice.”

     “Yeah…I’m gonna have to take a pass on that. Trust me, my singing voice is passable, at best.” Quite literally. You were decent enough to hold a tune and pass your college singing class (required for your degree) but that was about it. In tune – mostly – but hardly beautiful.

     “Y/N…” Kili whined, dark eyes wide with the most pitiful puppy-dog expression you had ever seen. “Please? Even if, by chance, you are terrible, I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

     “Cause that’s so encouraging to hear.” You shot him a friendly smirk. “How about you wait until we set up camp for the night? I’ll play it on my violin and teach you the words.” You patted your case fondly. “You can tell me if I’m wrong, but don’t you play, too?” It was one of the details you remembered clearly from the Hobbit. For probably obvious reasons.

     “Yes! And so does my brother!” Kili gestured up ahead to where Fili rode near Gandalf, discussing…something. Before turning back to you, head tilted to the side and eyebrows furrowed. “How did you know that?”

     “Little birdie told me.” You grinned and explained further, Kili just as confused as before, if not more so. “I think I heard it from one of the Company. Can’t remember who it was.”

     “Did Uncle tell you?”

     You actually laughed at that. “Pretty sure I’m not on speaking terms with your uncle. Am I even on speaking terms with your brother? I can’t really tell.”

     “I wouldn’t worry about that. Fili likes you, just had a bit too much on his mind, I suppose. In fact,” Kili’s eyes shone again; you were pretty sure that was his default setting, “he can hear you play tonight! He was far better than I ever was. Perhaps you two have more in common than you know.”

     With that somewhat cryptic statement, Kili was off again, heading to check on Bilbo, who was faring arguably worse than even you were. Come nightfall, Kili was back at your side, his older brother in tow, basically demanding that you teach them the song you’d been singing earlier that day. Which was how you ended up surrounded by a group of rowdy dwarves belting out Do You Hear the People Sing? by the light of a campfire as you giggled with your violin hooked beneath your chin. Apparently the dwarves were into musical theatre pieces about the mess that history books called France. To think, a production of Les Mis put on by dwarves. You would pay an arm and a leg (maybe even a kidney) to see that.

     When it came to other music, well, the dwarves’ enthusiasm made up for any lack of skill. By which you meant that Hamilton wasn’t really something in their repertoire. Rapping just wasn’t really a thing in Middle Earth (unsurprisingly) and probably went slightly over their heads. But they tried, and you ended up with quite possibly the most energetic rendition of Yorktown you’d ever heard, which was all you could really ask for. At some point in the evening, the requests began to change, Ori asking if you knew other types of songs, too. After all, Do You Hear the People Sing? and a decent amount of Hamilton were exciting songs, and sunset called for a new kind of music. A few selections out of Into the Woods, Allegiance, and even some Hit List had the Company’s ear for quite a while; eventually, you and Fili randomly held each other’s gaze, him giving you a small smile that had you immediately looking away, Kili’s earlier words in your head. You were being ridiculous. For real, what was wrong with you? The embarrassingly flustered part of your brain was probably what was responsible for eventually choosing to fall back onto Phantom, the upper octaves of some of the melodies getting more than a few impressed stares from the rest of the Company. Which, unsurprisingly, ended with Bofur requesting you teach him the lyrics.

     The completely mortification melted away at that, and you laughed through your response. “Tomorrow, okay? But maybe not the last one. I don’t really think you’ll be able to hit those notes. Unless you know something I don’t?”

     Unfortunately, the universe on the whole seemed to know something you didn’t, or else you wouldn’t have been caught off guard when Thorin approached, clearly not in the mood, ordering the other dwarves to set up camp for the night. While ordering you to stay out of the way. Clear enough he didn’t trust you. Not that you minded too much, wandering off with your violin, listening to the way the notes echoed across the open land. Run Away with Me sounded particularly beautiful in this setting, if sorta nonsensical to the situation. Not like you could really run away without probably getting slaughtered by orcs or mauled by wargs, and who would that even be with? Every person you were close with was worlds away, literally, and you didn’t have the slightest clue how to get back to them. You would run back to them if you could’ve had the chance. Although, even back home, there wasn’t really anyone who would be able to sing that to you, or anyone you could sing that to, either. You’d hoped, but, well, what was really the use now?

     “Y/N?”

     You spun in place, the older of the princes watching you from across the clearing you’d meandered into. “Fili! Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

     He smiled, glancing downward. “You have nothing to apologize for. I’m the one who should be apologizing for forgetting to introduce myself, and for sneaking up on you.”

     “No, no it’s totally fine. I was just lost in my head anyway. I thought Thorin wanted all of you setting up camp?”

     “We have. I was sent to look for you.”

     “You…shit, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done this. I mean, I have a decent sense of direction, but I’d probably never have been able to find my way back alone.”

     “Trust me, it’s perfectly alright.” He signaled for you to follow him back to camp before speaking again as you walked. “You play beautifully. Another song from one of your musicals?”

     “Yeah, yeah, it’s one of my favorites actually. But that’s probably ‘cause I’m not a pianist and had to accompany all the singers who audition with it.” You were rambling. Why were you rambling?

     Thankfully, Fili didn’t comment on it, actually holding a sane conversation, unlike you, apparently. “What’s it about? The song. I’m curious.”

     “Love. And…doing anything for that love. Even when the world doesn’t want you to.”

     Fili hummed slightly, in thought. “Perhaps you could teach it to me tomorrow. After you teach Bofur your other songs, of course.” The last part was said with just a bit of mischievousness, enough to make you laugh.

     “I think you mean after I try. If you’re all woken up by ungodly screeching, blame him, not me. I’m still sure agreeing to that was the worst decision I’ve ever made.”

     The days and few weeks to come passed by surprisingly quietly. No imminent fear of death (well, at least from anywhere other than Thorin), and a bunch of peaceful nights during which you could bond with the Company. There were still occasional requests to hear songs from your world that usually did turn into the dwarf version of campfire sing-alongs, and those always lifted your spirits. Aside from that, you got the chance to actually learn more about each of the dwarves; Peter Jackson and Tolkien both had done most of them an injustice, really.

     Especially Fili.

     Kili hadn’t been exactly right about how much the two of you actually had in common, but after he’d been sent to find you that one night, you did spend much more time together. Usually it was just talking, or sometimes finding a quiet corner and gazing at stars that were different than the ones you knew, dotted across the skies, bright without the lights of big cities. Pretty soon, you both knew more about each other than you’d really figured was possible, considering the whole alternate universe thing. He told you tales of his childhood, growing up in Ered Luin with his mother and uncle, never really understanding their history until he’d come of age. He and Kili had been told stories about dragons and kingdoms and warriors, of course (really, like a lot of the stories you’d heard, too, as a kid) but the dragon that had taken their home was another matter entirely. The weight of being a prince, being responsible for getting their people back home and the consequences should they actually succeed – all when Erebor had never really felt like his home, when a future in which they succeeded never felt like the life he wanted. He did care about the mission, their people, but his first priority would always be the ones he loved; he’d never bring it up to Thorin, but there were plenty of times when he didn’t agree with his uncle about this entire journey.

     Maybe (or obviously) you couldn’t exactly relate to that, but that didn’t end up mattering. Not when you would talk on other nights about all the things running through your own head. How much you missed home, all the things you’d left behind – all the dwarves knew about that. But then also the conflict there now. Because, somehow, you didn’t really want to leave anymore. Home meant everything you knew, but also everything you knew you didn’t really know yet. The future, family, career, relationships – balancing all of those when just really figuring out one seemed impossible enough, but being expected to get it all right just the same. Middle Earth felt like a fairy tale, in comparison, because there weren’t any masks to wear, trying to please all the right people in all the right places. You were just you, and you liked that.

     Among other things that made you wanna stick around. Things you didn’t tell anyone for a million other reasons.

     But then the orc attack happened, bringing you all to Rivendell, and it seemed like things had changed somehow.

     Not that most of the Company really seemed to notice, having too much fun antagonizing the elves. Kili basically demanded that you take your violin out again and accompany their more raucous drinking songs. Eventually, the excitement did wear down, though, pretty much in line with when the elves stopped shooting their group skeptical side-eye glances (apparently the elves giving up on them made things less fun). At that point, most of the Company – save Thorin, Balin, Bilbo, and Gandalf – began to drop off to sleep, and your muscle memory took over, the melody of Story of Tonight being carried out across the hidden valley.

     It seemed weirdly fitting.

     By the time the super-secret meeting with Elrond finished, you stashed away your instrument for a private word with the lord of Rivendell, before finding a secluded balcony and reclining against a pillar, breathing in the night air, not paying much attention to the rest of the world.

     “Y/N?”

     “Fili?” You turned toward your friend, his blue eyes soft and eyebrows furrowed slightly. He wasn’t stupid; he knew something was wrong. “You okay?” Easy deflection.

     “Yes, I’m fine, I just…I realized you were gone, and…” he trailed off, looking away.

     “Well you found me.” You patted the ground at your side. “You’re welcome to join.”

     He did, looking ready to ask you what was wrong. Except… “What was that?”

     You were completely caught off guard. “What?”

     “With your hands. You were doing it just now, before you saw me, and I’ve seen you do it while we were riding, too. The same motions.” He held out his hand, thumb and pinky finger stuck out, gently raising and lowering it.

     “Oh!” The sign language. Sometimes you didn’t even notice it at this point. “It’s…the lyrics to another song, actually. People who can’t hear, they talk with their hands, and there’s a group that does musicals with that language, too. I’m a bit of a fan,” you finished with forced lightness.

     Fili nodded, quiet. “Y/N…I won’t mind if you don’t want to talk about it, but…what’s wrong? You disappeared, and…”

     “No, it’s…it’s fine.” Really, it was. He deserved to know, if you were being honest. “I…talked to Elrond. About…staying here. Just for a while, until I figure out what to do.”

     “What? No…no you can’t.”

     “Fili, you and I both know I’m not a fighter. I’m gonna get myself killed at worst, or just hold you all back at best. Well, that and…” Oh, shit.

     “And what?”

     “You,” came your answer, breathed out and at length. “I just…I can’t.”

     “Why not? I care about you, too, Y/N. I was afraid to tell you, afraid you might not feel the same, but if you do –“

     “No, Fili, that’s not it.”

     “Then what?”

     “It’s…it’s what the song is about. The one you keep seeing me signing. Love that isn’t gonna work ‘cause it just hurts in the end instead.”

     “But you can’t know that.”

     “You’re right, and that’s why I can’t risk it. I’m not from this world, and I still can’t promise what that’s gonna end up meaning.”

     “You said you like it here. I don’t mean to take you from your family, but…”

     “It’s not just that. It’s…” the fact that, if this played out the way you’d read and seen, then he wouldn’t make it out alive. You didn’t know if there was anything you could do about that. “Just trust me. Please.”

     He sighed, but didn’t push. “So then, this might be the last time I see you?”

     “Aside from tomorrow morning, possibly.”

     “Will you show me the song? All of it, just for something to remember you by.”

     You smiled, even though it felt forced. “Sure.” Signing and singing at once, you mirrored the performance you’d seen so many times online, except that there was no slick piano to slide across to deliver that kiss. And maybe that was all for the best, really. Although the shared signs brought the two of you closer, hugging tightly as you trailed out of the chorus, both of your breaths labored.

     “Be safe, okay?”

     “I promise.”

     A whole year passed, and very little seemed to ever change. You spent your days in Rivendell, Elrond always off to chat with either Saruman or Galadriel or a different powerful someone every day. About Sauron, no doubt, not that you could tell them that without raising suspicion. Aside from that – the slowly rising tension over the darkness on the horizon – you wouldn’t have known the days passed at all. The elves couldn’t find any way for you to return to your world (interdimensional travel wasn’t really understood, big surprise there) and you couldn’t decide if that was a good or a bad thing. You did miss your family, your home, everything you’d grown up with. But you’d be lying if you said your mind wasn’t on Fili way too often. Technically, you knew he made it to Erebor without any harm coming to him, but that didn’t exactly make the waiting game any easier. Especially when you knew what you were waiting for, ultimately.

     Maybe it would be better to go home. Not like you wanted to hear that he’d died in person. The movie was bad enough, even with how little importance it actually gave that. The book, too, honestly. He deserved so much better than that, than just…dying and…and…

     You missed him. So damn much.

     By the time the year had passed, you honestly hadn’t even noticed it. You only became aware of it when word came to Rivendell that the battle at Erebor had been won. That word…and a letter for you. The dread of opening that letter sent you back to that secluded balcony you’d last seen him, and your breath caught as you opened the page.

     A letter from him, asking you to come to Erebor, hoping beyond hope that you hadn’t left, because all he wanted was to be able to see you again. Thorin had survived – injured, but ultimately alright – and he’d been hurt too, but not badly. Kili was in his usual high spirits, spending most of his days with a female elf they’d met along the way.

     Somehow, things had changed. You had no clue how that was even possible, but it wasn’t like you cared, packing all your things to see him again and basically demanding that you be given a way to get to Erebor. Maybe this wasn’t destined to turn out badly, and like hell you were about to give that up.

     Someday, you would find a way to get back, to tell your family what had happened, but, given the thundering beat of your heart in your chest as you rode toward Erebor, that wasn’t home anymore. No, home was where you could see your golden prince again, because now? It was time to teach him a happier love song.

AN: If any of you were wondering, the last song I’m referencing is The Word of Your Body (Reprise) from Deaf West's Spring Awakening. It’s honestly my favorite thing ever.

[fluffy-marshmallow-heart]

20 Seconds of Courage -Part 17

The Elementalist au

Beckett x MC (Oriana)

Words: 1604

Warnings: NSFW

Series master List

Complete Master List

Arriving home, the tension between Beckett and Oriana was palpable. He’d told the officers everything he knew about his sister’s death and they said they’d be in touch. Oriana was finally released, though she still wasn’t quite herself.  Beckett led her over to the couch, pulling her into his arms. He was hurt, but also just happy she was safe, and wanted to be as close to her as possible.

  He could feel her blinking against his chest, and soon felt wetness and heard sniffles. He gently hooked his finger under her chin and lifted her head to meet his gaze. “Don’t cry.” He told her gently. “You’re home now, you’re safe, everything’s going to be okay.”

“Stop being so nice.” She hiccupped. “I don’t deserve it.”

“Oriana, listen. I think…no, I know…you went out with the best of intentions. You didn’t set out with the intent to hurt my feelings. I know the Jason thing is hard to believe. I’d like us to just…put this behind us. Please.” Beckett murmured, stroking her hair with his hand.

“But…”

“No buts.” He interrupted. “I could have lost you. Forever. In the worst way possible. I’m not about to start fighting with you over what you did or did not do. You don’t remember, you can’t defend yourself, and that’s not a fair argument. If you ever remember your side of the story, then I want to hear it, and we can discuss it then. But not before that. I love you so much, Ori. I won’t let a misunderstanding or miscommunication come between us. We’re much stronger than that. I just want to take care of you right now, please let me do that for you.”

“Why are you so good to me?” She whispered.

Beckett smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear. “Because you’re my world, Oriana. You’re my everything. And something terrible just happened to you.”

Another tear escaped from her eye and trickled down her face. Beckett softly wiped it away with his thumb before moving his hand to caress her cheek as he leaned down and kissed her slowly. “And also because I love you.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t. Maybe…maybe we’re just not meant to be.” She murmured into his lips, causing him to freeze and pull back. He sighed, staring up at the ceiling.

“I wish I could make love to you right now. I’d show you why that’s not true.” He replied sadly. “I know I said a lot of things at the hospital, and so did the doctors and police and I know your mind is reeling.” He looked back at her. “Do…you believe me? About my sister?”

“I do. Of course, I do.”

“Do you trust me? Do you trust that I’ve never lied to you?”

Her eyes were welling up with tears again. “Yes.”

Beckett turned onto his side to face her, taking her hand. “Do you still want to be with me? Do you actually see a future together? Just…be honest. I can handle it.”

“I do. I want everything with you.” She breathed.

Beckett scoot closer to her, capturing her lips with his own before trailing a hand down the curves of her body and resting on her hip. “Then let’s have everything.”

Oriana leaned in and kissed him hungrily, wrapping her arms around him, before he pulled her into his lap so she was straddling him. She ground against him and he groaned.

“Shit, Ori, we can’t do this right now.”

“The doctor said I can resume normal activity.” She responded breathlessly, her kisses becoming more fierce.

“Oriana, stop.” Beckett grabbed her arms, pulling her away from him. He didn’t miss the unmistakable hurt written all over her features because she stood up abruptly and left the room. He sat there feeling ashamed of himself. He was giving her mixed signals, he knew. But she wasn’t the only one hurting.

Oriana went into their bedroom, closing the door and letting her tears fall freely as she disrobed and climbed into bed, yanking the blankets over herself completely. She cried into her pillow to muffle the sound. She hated herself in this moment. She completely betrayed the love of her life, and didn’t know how to fix it. One minute he’s telling her he loves her and wants the world with her, but the next minute he’s pushing her away…literally. She heard the door open and close.

“Ori…?”

“Go away.” She cried. “Just leave me and get it over with.”

The bed dipped next to her, and a second later the blanket lifted and Beckett appeared, pulling the blanket back over them both. “I don’t know how to fix this. I’m sorry, I wish I did. I wish I could say that what you did had no effect on me, especially since you can’t remember doing it. I wish I could take it all back. I wish I never saw that stupid bracelet.”

Oriana scoffed and turned her back to him, unable to stop the flow of tears. A warm arm wrapped around her as Beckett’s sculpted body pressed into her back, spooning her. “I’m not going to leave you, Oriana.” His breath was hot in her ear. “You’ve been through a trauma. Which, in turn, traumatized me as well. We need each other. We love each other. We’ll figure it out, I promise. I refuse to give up on us. So…please tell me you feel the same.”

“And what if I don’t.” It was a statement, not even a question.

“Then I’ll have to make you fall in love with me all over again.” He teased lightly, nibbling her ear. “I’ll have to remind you of all the reasons I love you.”

Oriana gasped as he trailed kisses along her neck and jawline, moving his hand to caress her breast, tweaking her nipple as she whimpered. Beckett chuckled lightly as she began writhing against him.

“Don’t ever think I don’t want to make love to you, Ori. I can’t keep my hands off you. I have to kiss you like I have to breathe.  I need you.” He finished, his voice hoarse.

“I need you, Beckett. I need you to show me you love me, that you won’t leave me over this.”

“Never.” He assured. “Our emotions are running high. But I won’t leave you, Oriana, ever. If anyone wants out of this…it’s going to be you. You’d be the one leaving, not me.”

“But you said…”

“Forget about that. I was wrong. I was so, so wrong Oriana. Forgive me.” He dropped kisses to her bare shoulder. “You shouldn’t have gotten naked. You know I can’t resist you.”

Oriana let out a watery laugh. “Yes, you figured out my master plan.”

“Tell me what you want. Anything you want, it’s yours.”

“I want to feel you inside of me.” He could barely hear her, her voice was so low and thick with emotion.

“You sure?” He asked, his heart beating faster.

She nodded, and he let go of her breast to fumble with his pants and kick them off before wrapping his arm back around her.

“I’ll go really slow.” He gently pressed his tip into her tightness, moaning at how wet she was. He paused when he was all the way inside. “Are you okay?”

“Yes”

He moved slowly in and out of her, thrusting as soft and gentle as he could, not wanting to get her heart rate too high. He peppered her shoulders and back with kisses until he moved his hand to her chin and turned her head to face his so he could kiss her lips. They kissed until they came, their quiet moans of ecstasy filling the room as their bodies found their release. He pulled out of her, turning her to face him so her breasts were pressed against his chest as they continued to kiss sweetly.

Running his hands through her hair he finally pressed one last kiss to her lips before pulling slightly back and gazing deep into her eyes. “We’ll be okay.” He told her again. “Maybe not immediately. We both have our demons, Ori, I know that now. It’s not just me.”

“Can we face them together?” She whispered.

He nodded, smiling. “I’d really love that.”

“Beck…I don’t think I can continue working, at least, not if it’s with Jason. The next time I see him, I want it to be as he’s being arrested with no chance of being released.”

“I’ll make sure he loses his job and is blacklisted from every company within 400 miles.” Beckett didn’t miss a beat and was already thinking about what calls to make to ensure Jason wouldn’t find a job, but also would ensure he wouldn’t leave the area for a while. “We’ll also talk to Alex and maybe even Michael together, and see what they want to do. Maybe this project will be postponed or scrapped altogether.”

“Okay.”

Beckett kissed the top of her head, smiling down at her. “Do you trust me?”

Oriana grinned, feeling a weight being lifted off her shoulders. “Always.” Her smile faded momentarily. “But do you trust me?”

“If we don’t keep any more secrets from each other, tell each other what’s going on, and don’t sneak off while one is sleeping…yes. I’ll trust you.”

She took a shuddery breath while nodding. “So what do we do now?”

Beckett paused. “Now we rest. Tomorrow we’ll start dealing with the world. But for today…it’s just us.”

“That sounds perfect.” She whispered, leaning forward and kissing him again.

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[fluffy-marshmallow-heart]

20 Seconds of Courage -Part 9

The Elementalist au

Beckett x MC (Oriana)

Words: 1852

Warnings: discussion of death and murder. NSFW.

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Beckett and Oriana were snuggled on his couch as he spoke. He talked quietly, even a bit nervously as he’d never confided in someone like this. The only person he used to confide in was Katrina, and she’d been gone for three years.

  “One night I was supposed to have dinner with her. She had a new boyfriend and she wanted to tell me all about him. But, as usual, she was running late, and she asked me if I could pick up her dry cleaning on my way, since they would be closed by the time she got there. It wasn’t an abnormal request.” He smiled fondly, recounting all the times he’d had to pick up her dry cleaning before.

“The three outfits you have.” Oriana confirmed

Beckett nodded. “Yes. I picked them up, went to the restaurant…and she never showed. I waited hours, I kept calling her, texting her…but never received anything back. I knew something was terribly wrong.”

“When I got to her apartment…it was all locked up, there was nothing to cause alarm.” He choked up, not sure if he can continue.

But Oriana squeezed him tight. “You don’t have to say if you don’t want to.” She said lightly, her voice laced with concern.

Beckett kissed the top of her head. “No, it’s…it’s time.”

He took a deep breath and continued, his fingers absentmindedly stroking Oriana’s bare arm. “I had a spare key, and I let myself in. Again, everything looked normal. As though she’d be home any minute. I slept on her couch. The next morning…my mother called me. Her…body had been found in an alleyway right by the restaurant. She was so close to it, just a few minutes more walk and she would have been there.”

He felt tears form in his eyes. “She had… blunt force trauma to the head…her wallet and jewelry were gone. There were no signs of a struggle. Originally it was called a mugging.”

“But you don’t think so?” Oriana asked.

“No. I don’t. I think she was targeted. We’re a well-known, well-off family. Lots of people try to take advantage of that. As I said, she had a new boyfriend.”

Oriana sat up, looking at him in shock. “You think the boyfriend did it?”

“Yes.” Beckett said plainly. “The police questioned him, of course. They questioned everyone. Andrew Reynolds. But he wasn’t even in town. But when I had talked to Katrina, she said she was running late because she ran into him on her way home. So how could he be in two places at once?”

“You told the police this? And they what, didn’t care?”

Beckett shook his head. “He had proof of an alibi. Receipts, bills, his office confirmed his hours for the day, things like that. He was nowhere near us.”

“So, how could he have done it?”

“I did quite a bit of digging into him. He didn’t even match the brief description Katrina had already told me. He was in a different business, a slightly different build. I didn’t exactly know what he looked like, but…”

“You think someone else used his name to get close to Katrina?” Oriana gasped. “But…why? If he was just going to kill her in public?”

“So she would go with him willingly and not create any type of scene. So she could be standing, talking to her boyfriend, like a normal human being, and then disappear without raising any red flags to others. How many people do you really pay attention to when you’re walking down a busy street? Especially if they’re not attracting any type of attention? Plus, she literally told me she ran into him and that’s why she was late. And why would the guy care if she sent a quick text to me if he wasn’t even the person we all thought he was? The real Andrew Reynolds lived hours away. Says he never met my sister. And I completely believe him. His story completely checks out.”

Oriana was silent, taking in his words. “But still…in public? How long were they together?”

“There were no odd fingerprints in her apartment. So this boyfriend never step foot in there, never touched her things, never left a trace of himself. Whoever he was…my bet is he’s a seasoned criminal. Her accounts were empty. Everything wired out, completely untraceable. A hacker would have had to be involved. I think there was at least two people, maybe three involved. And she fell prey to it. She wouldn’t be the first one. The fact that she was about to go to dinner with her brother and tell him all about their new relationship…he couldn’t let that happen. Couldn’t risk anyone knowing anything about him other than his name, since it wasn’t even his to begin with.”

“How was the money wired out of her accounts? How is that not traceable? Everything is traceable. How could the cops think that was a coincidence?”

He sighed, heavily. “It went into a dummy account, withdrawn immediately, the account closed. Professional criminals…they know how to cover their tracks. The cops kept finding dead ends. I hired a Private Investigator, but he didn’t find anything new. By then so much time passed anyway, the trail went cold. My parents stopped speaking with me because they didn’t want to keep going over the painful memories. They told me I was causing them even more heartache than they already have.”

“I’m so sorry, Beck.” Oriana whispered.

“She was a genuinely good person. She really cared for others. Sometimes I still expect to run into her. Sometimes when my phone rings, I have a brief moment of hope that it’s her. Even though I’m quite aware it’s impossible.”

Oriana rested her hand on his cheek, and he leaned into it, closing his eyes. “We were really close. We were ten years apart in age but you’d never know it. She was my sister, my best friend…my only friend, really.”

He opened his eyes, gazing into hers. “I still didn’t have any…until I met you.”

Oriana swallowed, hard. “Why me?”

“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen in my life. You’re sweet, but you’re also a shark. You’re kind, but you won’t let anyone walk on you. You’re just…” He trailed off, contemplating his next words. “You’re a genuinely good person.”

She inhaled sharply, not missing what those words really meant. “Beck…”

“That’s how I know she would have loved you. You’re similar to her, yet very different. And you’re true to yourself and what you believe you deserve. So when you stormed out of the office that day, I just knew it was my one chance. I practically heard my sister’s voice screaming at me, telling me to move quickly.”

Oriana smiled softly. “So why did you even move here in the first place? I’m surprised you were able to leave your old city, knowing her killer was still out there.”

“I was slipping into a deep depression. I was barely functioning. I had no one to talk to, I had my work and then I’d go home, alone, to my apartment and have nothing to do but think of what happened. I was angry all the time. I started glancing around at different companies, this one seemed like a good fit, and here I am. It’s not like anyone was going to truly miss me.”

Oriana bit her lip. “Beck…I’m extremely sorry that all happened. I wish I’d known you then, you wouldn’t have had to be alone.”

“I’m sure I would have pushed you away even if you did know me. I just… I really miss her…” Beckett felt the tears spill over, felt the surge of raw emotion that he’d avoided for years. “I really, really miss my sister, Oriana. I miss her so much. She died so violently, over money that she probably would have just given him if he asked, just because she was just that type of person.”

He completely broke down, wracked with sobs. He turned away from Oriana, he didn’t want her to see him like this, he hated feeling weak. Beckett Harrington was many things, but weak is not one of them. But then he felt the warmth of Oriana’s arms wrapping around him, forcing him to turn and face her. He braced himself for the inevitable. No one wants to be with someone so broken.

“Beckett, listen to me.” She murmured. “Nothing that happened was your fault.”

“But if I hadn’t just sat at the restaurant, if I’d just gone outside…”

“You wouldn’t have known, Beckett. There was nothing you could have done.”

“I had nobody.” His voice was still trembling.

“But now you have me.” Oriana soothed. “You do. I have my clothes in your closet. My toothbrush is in your bathroom. I’m not going anywhere. Besides, I literally just became your girlfriend.”

“You’ve been my girlfriend.” He replied instantly, causing Oriana to chuckle, before kissing his lips, tasting slightly of salt from his tears.

As she began to pull away, he pulled her back into him, capturing her mouth with his own, kissing her desperately.

“I can’t tell you how much you mean to me.” He ran his hands through her hair, devouring her mouth, needing her.

“Mmm Beck…”

“Ori…Ori I need you.” He said the words out loud, surprising even himself. How could he be turned on this second? But he realized it wasn’t about that. He wasn’t trying to hide behind sex. He just wanted her to know that he’s falling for her. He needed to feel something real.

“I’m here, whatever you need.” She replied breathily.

He stood, pulling her up and into his arms as she he continued to kiss, walking to his bedroom. Laying her down gently. He felt vulnerable, more vulnerable than ever. He took his time undressing her, caressing each breast with his hot mouth, and as he pressed his dick inside her, he was still kissing her fervently. He moved slower than usual, and Oriana noticed how gentle he was being. This was a different side of him.

She loved the hot, demanding, confidant Beckett. It turned her on like nothing else. But what he showed her tonight was soft, sensual…vulnerable. He’s trusted her with his demons, the only person he’s trusted. He’d broken down in front of her, let himself feel, let himself grieve, and now…

She moaned as he found the spot that she needed him to find, and soon they were both sweaty, out of breath, holding each other tightly.

“Ori, I….” Beckett shook his head. “Thank you. For tonight. For being here.”

“Thank you for letting me in.” She whispered back, pressing her lips to his again. There was no hesitation, no sense of urgency. He made love to her that night, it was no longer just sex. It was beautiful, and they both knew that this was their turning point. Any thread of doubt Oriana had was gone, replaced with a deep sense of belonging. As they drifted off to sleep she realized…she was falling for Beckett Harrington.

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