#their idea of relaxing is allowing life to completely leave them for ten clean minutes and then back to the grindstone

[wackyscreamswithraisin]

Two hard workers “”relaxing”””^

^ *sitting there and doing absolutely nothing*

[tearsof-scarlet]

One Way or Another (yandere!Dabi x f!Reader)

Pairing: Yandere!Dabi x f!Reader, Hawks x f!Reader

Synopsis: Being a doctor at the hero hospital is stressful enough. However, what happens when your beloved friend Hawks begins to take a liking to you? And what if he isn’t the only one who has his eye on you? An evil Dabi starts to fall for you immensely after one dark night. Nothing can hold him back from his urge to have you.

Part 1 / ?

Words: 3.5k

Warning: This story will eventually have mentions of stalking, violence, gore, language, and hard smut. Viewer’s discretion is advised.

________________________________________________________________

The sounds of birds tweeting filled your ears. Today your bed seemed just that more comfortable as the sunlight dripped though your curtains. The sound of the traffic in your city was at a minimum as you sighed into your pillow. Finally, a day off from work. This week had kicked your ass hard. Your job at the Hero hospital was a privilege and a burden. While you were one of a very small group who could treat and aid the top heroes, it was a very stressful job. The hours weren’t exactly nine to five and some nights you were heading home with your head low in complete exhaustion. However, you still loved your job. You had a great sense of pride knowing that you could give back to the heroes who protected you and everyone around you. 

But today is your day off.  You knew how to separate your job and your personal life.  You lay in bed thinking of what you planned to do with your free time.  Your kitchen could do with a cleaning, but the idea of sitting on the couch watching bad reality television sounded more appeasing to you. You smiled into your pillow, finally a day to relax and do absolutely nothing.

Then your phone buzzed.

You opened one eye to see your boss’ caller ID on your screen. You grabbed the phone from your nightstand and reluctantly answered. Before you could even say hello, the sound of your boss yelling over the phone broke the silence in your room.

"_______ get in here now we need you!"

 With your shoelaces undone and a piece of toast in your mouth, you dashed outside of your apartment with your work bag tossed on your back. Your boss informed you of a villain attack in the city centre which caused some heroes to be injured. Fire injuries were your specialty, so you were called immediately. Your legs were running to the train station, hoping not to miss the train to the hospital and having to wait another ten minutes for the next train.

While you were fixing your tie around your neck, your eyes caught sight of a small red object flying across in front of you. After a small moment of confusion, you heard the sound of wings flapping behind you and immediately knew who it was.

"Hey hey hey, didn’t know you were into running these days ______?"

You scoffed, swallowing the last bit of your toast as you dodged hitting into a random person in the street.

"Not now Hawks" You yelled up at him. "I’m running late."

Hawks. Number 2 Hero. You both met each other when he had only just graduated from this hero training. He survived a nasty attack from a villain, resulting in his feathers being pretty damaged. You were the one who took care of him and patched him up.  He was in the hospital for two days straight and most of that time was spent with you monitoring his health. His determination to become a top hero and his snarky charisma allow you two to immediately have a connection. After he was discharged, he still kept in contact with you and now he could consider you one of his closest friends. Till this day, he is forever grateful for you helping him, but these days teasing you seems more fun to him.

The man was now gliding alongside you, clearly mocking your lack of speed.

"Why am I not surprised?" He chuckled, eyeing you.

You sent him a stern glare. Unfortunately, you could not argue with him and run at the same time without losing your breath.

"You know, sweetheart, the train is about to leave in a minute, and unless you just gained a speed quirk, chances are you're not going to make it," he teased.

You held your tongue at his words. When you first told him you didn’t have a quirk, he thought you were joking and laughed in your face. Needless to say, you weren’t too happy about that. So whenever he sees the chance, he always enjoys pointing it out.

Hawks continued to fly beside you, now sighing and crossing his arms behind his head.

"Only if you knew someone who could get you to the hospital in time." He groaned.

He raised his eyebrow at you. You knew what he was trying to imply. Your stomach immediately started to do flips at the thought of it. You hated heights and Hawks knew this about you. But he also knows about how much your work matters to you.

You eyed your watch on your wrist, already you were ten minutes late. You glanced down to see Hawks’ red feathers tying your shoelaces. You finally stopped running and stood trying to catch your breath.  You ignored the rational thoughts in your head and returned back to glare at Hawks.

"I swear Hawks if you do anything funny." You sneered at him.

His face immediately lit up with glee and a smirk spread across his face.

"Trust me _____. It will be like floating on a cloud. " He reassured you by putting his hand on his heart.

"Just don’t throw up on me again." He hushed quickly. 

Before you even had time to swear at him, he whooshed behind you and lifted you up in his arms. You immediately let out a squeak in fear, earning a laugh from Hawks. Your hands gripped his neck and your body tensed up as you both started to rise to the sky. You both were now above the skyscrapers and the whole city seemed so small. It was truly breath taking and you wondered if Hawks ever just spent his days looking down at the city.  

You cast a quick glance down at the people who had turned into ants. Your stomach dropped and you turned your face into hawks’ chest for the rest of the journey to avoid throwing up.

"You can look up now doll."

You cranked your head to see if Hawks was telling the truth. You were relieved to see that his feet were touching the ground. He had landed on the hospital roof, a perfect spot.

"Nice landing" you jerked at him.

"You’re welcome Miss." He said, rolling his eyes.

You hopped out of his arms and stood attempting to fix yourself up before you entered the hospital. You could tell the wind messed up your hair quite a bit.

"You look fine ____."

Now you were the one to roll your eyes. Last time he said that you walked into your meeting with your lipstick smeared across your face.

"Shouldn’t you have been helping save your colleagues from that villain attack?"

"Had to make sure my _____ was safe first." Hawks was always skilled at avoiding questions he didn’t want to answer. You chalked it up to his media training.

You made your way to the door leading down to the hospital as soon as you felt you had put yourself together decently. Hawks' mouth dropped at your actions. He flew to block the door to prevent you from leaving.

"Nothing else you want to say?" He pestered at you. "No thank you, hawks or hawks; you are my hero; you are incredible?"

He really made a poor impression of you.

"Thank you, Hawks. Now shove it. " You snapped thinking of the time you are wasting with him up here. Your words, however, did not convince the young hero.

"How about takeaway and a movie at your place?" He questioned.

"Did you just invite yourself over to my place?" You sneered at him; your arms now crossed.

"Is it a deal?" He spoke. You were beginning to realise that there was no way hawks was going to let you though unless you said yes. You both haven’t done anything together in a while, you thought to yourself.

"Deal." You nodded.

Hawks’ feathers fluttered and he busted into a sing-song voice.

"Perfect! I’ll buy the food and you can pick the movie. Bye _____! " He yelled, tossing himself over the building as he flew away into the clouds.

Your mouth dropped at how he was able to make you agree to invite him over to your house within a minute. You sighed, rolling your eyes as you pushed the door open to enter the hospital.

As you entered your unit of the hospital, your boss was stood there waiting for you and your co-workers busily hurrying around.

"Look who finally decided to turn up."

You did your best not to glare at him.  You apologised profusely about being late to him and how it wouldn’t happen again.

"I heard she was seen with her boyfriend Hawks" A staff member piped up with a sneer.

You cringed at her words and her attempt to cause drama in front of your boss. Hawks is many things, but your boyfriend is definitely not one of them. 

"He is not my boyfriend. He was helping me to work. " You defended yourself. 

"I don’t want to hear anymore of the bird boy. Get working now _____. " Your boss yelled. 

You gave a low nod and immediately jumped into work, making your way over to your first patient.

 _______________________________________________________________

When you actually finished with the last patient, you had no idea what time it was. You gathered your belongings and exited the building, only to find the city engulfed in darkness. You sighed, your shoulders heavy from fatigue. The thought of a relaxing bath and a comfortable bed appealed to you. You checked your phone to find that the train station had closed long ago. Your eyes darted across the street for a taxi, but you had no luck. Walking it was, you thought.

You tried your best to stick to bright lit areas of the city. It was one of the disadvantages of being quirkless, you were practically defenceless. If a villain wanted to kill you, they would have no problem with doing it. That is why you prefer to work behind the scenes helping the heroes rather than being at the front of the violence.

Your walking stopped as you reached an alleyway. You debated or not if you should enter it. If you stuck to the bright areas, you wouldn’t reach your apartment for another fifteen minutes. However, if you went down this dark alleyway it would only take you five minutes. You stood listening for any noise to indicate if there was anyone down the dark path. After standing in silence, you made the decision to chance it. You took a breath and made your way down the narrow street.

All was well and you finally started to calm down as you walked. You thought of what leftovers you had in your fridge to eat when you heard the noise of glass breaking behind you. Your blood turned to ice as your body froze into place. When you looked to the source of the racket, a single drop of sweat ran down your brow.

A man with his head hanging low sat beside one of the big trash bins. You quickly realised the man wasn't all there when he didn't acknowledge you as you walked by. Your brain was screaming at you to keep walking. Your heart and morals, on the other hand, told you to check on the man's safety. You bit your lower lip, carefully weighing your options. Your morals came out on top.

"Sir?" you asked.

You were met with silence since the man did not respond. As you got closer, it became clear that the man was in pain. When you were within arm’s reach, you cautiously put your hand on the individual's neck to check for a pulse. Fortunately, it was at a consistent rate. You now knelt beside him. You tapped his shoulder lightly. Finally, the man let out a groan. You breathed a sigh of relief.

You gently pushed his head back, allowing you to see his face in the moonlight. You immediately noticed the faulty stitching and staples all around his face and body. The damaged deep purpled skin contrasted sharply with his pale skin. His eyelids hung low, but the brightness of the moon resulted in the stranger opening his eyes halfway. You were almost in shock at his bright blue eyes as they stared into yours.

"Am I dreaming?" He mumbled painfully.

You shook your head as you examined his body.

"What is the problem sir?" You questioned.

He sent a sly grin at you. Your concern was able to amuse the man. His finger weakly pointed at his opposite arm. One of the stitches on his arm had obviously ripped open and blood was steadily pouring out and onto the dirty ground.

You stared at the wound for a moment and considered if he needed to be taken to the hospital.

Almost as if he were reading your mind, he said, "No hospitals."

You chose not to question him and began to act on your feet. You removed your bag from your back and pulled out your first aid kit and some tools you used at work. You began to place a thread into your incision needle and prepared the medical stapler for use.

You could sense his apprehensiveness as he eyed your needle.

"Trust me sir, I’m a doctor." You explained to him.

"You'd better cut the sir crap; you're making me feel like an old man." He laughed lightly,

Feeling like you were getting somewhere with him, you continued the conversation. 

"Do you have a name?" You asked, hoping to distract him from the pain about to happen.

The man had a slight hesitation as his name fell from his mouth.

"Dabi."

You placed some hydrogen peroxide onto a cotton ball as you continued to talk to him.

"You have a lovely name, Dabi."

"I bet you say that to all your patients."

You smiled at his words and you placed the cotton on his wound. He immediately tensed up and hissed in pain as the alcohol did its job.

"I can promise you I don’t, Dabi." His name fell off your lips with such ease.

After you felt the wound was disinfected, you grabbed the needle and began to stitch his skin together. Dabi was now sat up straight admiring your concentration with the needle. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had cared for him like this.

"Did you get caught up in that villain attack this morning? “You asked him.

Dabi's mouth turned into a smirk, "I guess you can say I was."

"I bet it was scary," you said.

Dabi raised his eyebrow at you. "Do I look like the sort of person who gets scared?"

You took your attention from his wound and looked at his unamused face. You giggled slightly at his expression.

"You can tell me. I promise I won’t tell anyone. " You teased him.

He chuckled at your humour. You really did do a good job at distracting him from the pain.

"Those villains are pieces of shit, aren’t they?" He said, hoping for your opinion.

As you took the stapler in your hand, you moved on to the staples of the wound.

"Hmm, I don’t know if I would say that." You mentioned focusing on placing the stapler in the right position on his skin.

"What? You side with the League of Villains? " Dabi pried at you, staring at you with interest.

"Not exactly." You explained, "I believe a lot of the villains didn’t exactly have a choice of which side they wanted to be on. Also, working with Heroes, you begin to see that quirks determine what society thinks of you. If you don’t have a quirk, then you must be useless. If you have a dangerous quirk, then you are destined to be a villain. I find it all very frustrating if I am honest. "

Dabi listened intently to your rambling. It was nice to see someone agree with some of his opinions. You were obviously very intelligent. As you continued to work on his arm, he made note of your face and its beauty.

As you had just finished the last staple, you asked him, "Did you patch your skin up yourself?"

"Yeah, I did. I prefer to do it my own way because the majority of my skin is brunt to a crisp.” He explained.

"You have a fire quirk?"

He nodded as your eyes moved across his body to look at his skin. Your eyes finally meet his face. Without even thinking, you reached your hand out to cup in check and brushed your thumb along the staples in his face.

Dabi let out a small gasp. It had been a while since someone had touched him. You finally realised what you did and immediately yanked your hand away from him and stood up, hoping he wouldn’t see you blush in embarrassment.

"I’m really sorry Dabi" you said, putting your face in your hand, "I’ve just never seen anyone with a fire quirk like this."

He smiled at your embarrassment.

"Don’t worry. There is no need to be sorry. I didn’t mind it. " He reassured you.

You sighed and reached a hand out to help him up off the ground.

As he towered over your frame, you suddenly realised how tall he was in comparison to you. As soon as you realised your work was done, you let his hand out of yours.

"Well Dabi" you said, "I guess I better be heading home."

"Thank you" was all he said.

While your arms hugged you around your stomach, his deep blue gaze on you made you feel even more insecure.

"Are you going to be okay?" You asked him.

A small smile was on his face.

"Don’t worry about me."

You nodded to let him know you understood.

"Then I better go." You said, turning away from him.

Before Dabi could open his mouth to say anything to you, a black car drove into the alleyway with a large honk of its horn.  The tinted window rolled down the slightest bit and a voice called out Dabi’s name.

"That’s my ride," Dabi explained.

He didn't want to abandon you in the dark, but he also knew that you getting into the car would be impossible.

"Well take care Dabi", You said your last words and turned the corner away from him and the car.

You knew that it wouldn’t have been a good idea if you stayed any longer. You did your duty and left without anything else occurring. You had visions of the man’s blue eyes and face. You could tell from his body and face he was probably conventionally attractive before his burn scars. You ignored the flutters you had in your stomach as you took the stairs up to your apartment floor.

After entering the code to your apartment, you quickly tossed your bag to the floor and threw your jacket off. You sighed with relief to finally be home alone. Peace and quiet was the thing you needed after your long day.

"Finally home sweetheart?"

When you saw the man behind you holding a plate of takeaway sushi, you shrieked and nearly fell to the floor in shock.

"Hawks you little-!"

________________________________________________________________

Dabi threw up his hands in frustration as he approached the LOV's hideout. He completely forgot to ask for your name. After you had taken care of his injuries, the very least he could do was ask for your name.

He sighed and sat on the grimy couch. His thoughts returned to the events of your and his meeting. He was still bewildered that you chose to help a random stranger in the dark. Dabi knew that if it hadn't been for you, he would have bled out until he passed out and died. His fingertips traced the stitching on his arm that you had done. It was noticeably better done than his own work.

"What are you smiling about?" Toga spoke up, breaking Dabi of his thoughts.

His face immediately dropped, and he muttered a nothing. Toga shrugged off his reply and reached for the TV remote. The sound of the TV made Dabi’s head throb, so he stood up and headed out of the room to find somewhere more peaceful to rest for the night.

"What was the situation like in the hospital tonight Doctor?" the interviewer asked.

"Well, I would personally like to thank the heroes who were able to transport the citizens and other heroes who were harmed in the attack to the hospital so quickly."

The sound of your voice echoing throughout the room made Dabi freeze in place. He turned around to face the TV and ordered Toga to turn up the volume.

Dabi barely heard your voice as he continued to stare in a trance at your lovely face.

"We would like to thank you and your unit for all your help today. We are all grateful. " The interview told you.

You nodded and smiled at the camera as you wished everyone well.

Your name suddenly appeared at the bottom of the screen.

"Doctor _____ ______"

Dabi's face lit up with a big grin, and he couldn't help but laugh. He figured it wouldn't be that difficult to find you after all.

[princesscandijane]

Males Reasons to Shave with some tips

A quick guide for those wanting to shave, but cannot seem to find the reasons to.  As well as some tips on how to shave.

Groin

As a favor for someone going down on you. Think about how much you enjoy pulling pubes out of your teeth. I shave my groin every morning, as part of my morning routine. Takes me no less time to shave my face if you do it daily, and I could probably go every other day without notice.

Shaving Groin

From various blogs and articles

Trim—Bust out your trimmer and prep the area by trimming off a good chunk of the bush before you dive in with a razor. This helps ensure that you have total visibility and don’t miss any important areas. Take your time, trimming in small sections starting at the bottom and working your way up to the stomach.

Shave—Generously apply shave cream that you can see through, creating a layer of cream about a millimeter thick on top of the areas where you want to shave. Holding the skin taut with one hand and taking it extra-slow with the other, lightly shave IN THE DIRECTION that the hair grows. Avoid using too much pressure. Rinse the razor with every pass and, when completely done shaving, rinse the body with warm water.

Use a new/sharp razor– DON’T use a dull blade or disposable razor.

Shave Your Balls—The golden rule of ball-shaving is to always hold the skin taut so there are no wrinkles or curves that could catch skin or cause cuts. 

Rinse with Cool Water—Make sure you give your junk a good rinse in cool water after you’re done shaving to soothe the skin and close the pores. This will also help prevent any ingrown hairs or irritation.

Asshole

Dingleberries. If you have ever had to wipe away a dingleberry, that should inspire you to at least trim around the asshole. Full shave can be difficult, but again, how attractive do you find a hairy ass? So consider trimming. I don’t shave completely because I’m worried about nicking something, so I wear a butt plug and shave around it.

Guide to Asshole shaving

https://www.reddit.com/r/NoStupidQuestions/comments/27dh1x/how_do_i_shave_my_asshole/

Use a moustache/nose hair trimmer to trim off all the excess hair until it's short enough to feel like 2 day old stubble, and then apply good hair conditioner or shaving gel and exfoliate using a loofah or washcloth. The idea is to get all the hair up and on end and stimulate the skin while opening the pores; this avoids ingrown hair and razor burn, which you do not want on your butthole.

Now wash your butthole. Intensely. You do not want to leave any stone unturned, so to speak. Shove your soapy finger up there and really get your sphincters squeaky clean. Don't hurt yourself, just make sure you don't have any icky fecal matter or tiny sharp hair nuggets trapped in the mysterious crevices of your anal caverns.

Use a BRAND NEW 4-blade disposable razor/razor blade cartridge. Don't use a dull blade or you will regret it. Shave with the grain, first, not against it. Rinse after each and every stroke of the blade against your skin. Re-apply conditioner/gel and shave again, this time against the grain and again be sure to rinse after every stroke. Rinse completely and then give it a quick wash with some plain antibacterial soap (kills bacteria on the open skin so should avoid irritation from fecal matter etc that you may have missed during your butthole cleansing).

Now comes the rough part - preventative care. Grab a bottle of witch hazel and spritz it on a washcloth, and pat the fuck out of your butthole with that shit. IT WILL BURN LIKE HELL FOR A SECOND IF YOU DO IT RIGHT. It is not the end of the world. Your butthole is not on fire and you will live to poo another day. After witch hazel-ing the hell out of your ass, lay tummy-down on your bed or on a towel on the floor and either:

When your butthole has been sufficiently aired out and dried, apply non-scented women's roll-on deodorant. This sounds stupid and weird but trust me, it helps. Dove no-scent is the best I've found. This will avoid chafing while walking, irritation as the hair grows back, general stink, and will provide you with some cushioning.

Chest, Back, Arms, Armpits

Do you think any of them are naturally smooth? Once a week I take a nice hot bath, relax with a bowl and shave everything below my neck. Takes me an hour at most.

I think we can acknowledge that a smooth body is sexy regardless of gender.  How weird would it be for there to be hair

Vs. how is this for hair?

Once a week shaving. The more often you keep up with it the easier it is and the less time it takes.

Shaving Chest Tips

various blogs

Before beginning to shave, be sure to trim any long chest hairs to make the process easier.

Apply plenty of shaving gel over your chest and any other areas that you intend to shave.

Begin shaving, using short, gentle, and slow strokes for a clean shave without any nicks or cuts.

After each stroke, rinse the blade to avoid getting it clogged and causing a messy shave.

Once you’ve completed shaving and removed all unwanted hair, rinse your chest thoroughly and apply an aftershave product, such as the one that you use for your face.

Remember to also exfoliate the area twice a week with a quality body scrub to reduce the risk of ingrown hairs.

As the nipple is really sensitive and may not want to risk a nik, I recommend using a tweezer. Before you tweeze, take a hot shower—the heat will open up hair follicles, so it’s easier to grab the root—and pat the skin around your nipples dry. Pull each strand quickly and firmly in the direction your hair grows.

Shaving Armpit

from Men’s Health

Trim Your Armpit Hair First

If you’ve never shaved your underarms before, chances are you’ll need to trim those patches down for the easiest and most comfortable shave . It’ll make less of a mess in the shower as well (because nothing is worse than a clogged drain full of man-hair).

Exfoliate Your Under Arms Before Shaving

Sure, you don’t have to exfoliate, but you should to avoid pesky, painful ingrown hairs. A loofah or exfoliating body scrub will do the trick to remove dead skin cells and bacteria (along with any deodorant gunk) to help you achieve the smoothest shave without razor burn.

Shave Your Armpits Wet in the Shower

You can cut it dry, but Whitely recommends to do it in the shower. Hot water softens the hair and reduces the risk of pulled hair or nicks, he says. Shave towards the end of your time in the shower and use shaving gel for added moisture to prevent irritation.

Shave Slow and With a Good Razor

It's not a race, folks. To avoid razor burn and skin irritation, take it slow with your razor blade to make sure you get the closest shave. Unlike the hair on your face, underarm hair grows in all different directions, so make sure to shave sideways, as well top-to-bottom. Toss your old dull razor, and opt for one with a sharp blade and a pivoting head to move with the curves of your armpits for a more effective, easier shave.

Legs 

First shaved legs feel amazing.  Everyone deserves to know the feeling of freshly shaved legs. Second how are hairy legs, feet, and toes sexy?

Quick guide to shaving legs

Taken from Glamor and Cosmopolitan 

1. Trim

If it's the first time you're removing your leg hair, you might want to carefully trim the area with an electric razor. This will stop your razor clogging up, causing you to miss patches of hair.

2. Soak your skin before shaving

“Hydrating the hairs makes them up to 60 per cent easier to cut”, says Dr Anita Sturnham, Venus Ambassador. “Soak your skin for two to three minutes before shaving.”

Use warm water when you're bent over the bathtub in the middle of winter with goose bumps on your legs, it's tempting to have the shower on boiling hot. But hot water is not your friend when it comes to shaving because it closes your pores. Warm water opens your pores, allowing your hairs to soften (making the whole shaving process a lot smoother).

3. Do not lather your legs with shampoo

Dr Sturnham says using shampoo or body wash as shave prep can, “increase your risk of redness and irritation, and blunt your razor blades.”

4. Don't go ham on the shaving cream

You really only need a thin layer of shaving cream to do the job. Too much will clog up your blades, slowing down your shaving time and making it impossible to see where you already shaved. Of course you don't really need to buy shaving cream in the first place, hair conditioner works just as well (if not better).

5. Always shave against the direction hair growth

To get your closest shave possible, shave against the direction of your hair growth. For the legs, start at the ankle and work your way up towards the knee.If you’re using a good blade, this won’t cause any irritation and will cut the hair right at the root for a longer-lasting shave.

6. Don't apply too much pressure to your razor

Your razor shouldn’t make a dent in your skin in order to work.“ The razor should glide across the skin, not drag”, says Adam Boulding, Venus Scientific Communications. “Remember to use a light touch, exerting as little pressure as possible.”If you need to press your razor firmly to work, it can be a sign your blades need changing.

7. Short strokes

If you're shaving from your ankle to your knee in one long stroke, you are guaranteed to have missed hairs. It's just impossible for your razor to keep contact with every single hair for that long. That's why you need to shave with short strokes. Short strokes = less missed hairs.

8. Change your razor blades regularly

A blunt blade not only increases friction against the skin, but also the likelihood of missed hairs. There are many factors that can impact blade life, including your hair type, how much of your body you’re shaving and how you store your razor.  Roughly every ten shaves. If you shave daily then about every 1-2 weeks, if you shave 2-3 times a day then every 3-4 weeks. You should also change your blades whenever you start to feel tugging or pulling during your shave.

9. Don't use razors with less than four blades

The number of blades you use is actually super important. The less blades you have, the higher the chance of cuts and nicks.

“A razor with more blades means that the pressure is distributed across more evenly”, says Boulding. “Therefore less pressure is applied to any one spot of skin during the shave, reducing the probability of cuts.”

10. Use a manoeuvrable razor head

The second thing to look for in terms of razor quality is the manoeuvrability of the razor head. When it comes to the backs of knees and areas like ankles, where the bone is close to the skin surface, you need a razor that moves with the curves of your skin to glide over trickier areas. A stagnant blade will only increase the chance of missed hairs or cuts.

11. Always bend a knee

Knees are notoriously the most tricky spot to shave. The solution? Sarah says to slightly bend the knee.

“This will pull the skin tight before shaving, as folded skin is difficult to shave.”

Try propping your leg up on the side of the bath.

12. Don't forget your aftercare

If you suffer from red bumps after shaving, rinsing properly is a must post-shave. If you can bare cold water, this is even better to ensure the pores are closed.

Sarah also recommends leaving the skin to rest for at least 30 minutes before applying lotions or moisturisers, to avoid inflammation.

“If you must moisturise immediately following shaving, select a cream formula rather than a lotion, and avoid exfoliating moisturisers that may contain alpha hydroxy acids,” she adds. If not, it will sting!

[icollectyoursins]

Yoshikage Kira SFW + NSFW Headcanons

vierran96 on AO3 asked for this and who am I to deny them? I personally don’t get the thirst for hand David Bowie, but to each their own!

Have a character, but no idea? Prompt list here!

Looking for more? Master post here!

WARNINGS: hand fetish, sucking on fingers, long nails, pet play (kitten), riding,  spanking, lots of spanking, pegging, cock warming.

Word Count: 2116

SFW

Kira is very gentlemanly when you two first started dating. Taking you out to lavish restaurants and fancy plays, stuff like that. He’ll help you out of the car, allowing you to hook your arm into his while he walks you back to your house.

He buys you expensive rings and bracelets or watches, insisting on putting them on you himself, admiring the way the metal glistens in the light compared to your skin. To you, it’s an innocent, sweet gesture so you don’t pay too much attention to it, much to his relief. After all, you were just a cover for him; an alibi to keep people off his back. Right?

Wrong. After a few month together, he’s at work when he gets a text from you. It’s a little thing, just a text saying hello, but it makes him... excited. You were thinking about him? Completely blind to his true nature. That makes him like you more. He finds himself thinking of how you would do being home with him, what kind of food you would make, what books you like. Now he’s decided. He needs you.

From that moment on, Kira makes a point to send you good morning texts, possibly inviting you on more dates, trying to get you more involved in his life which you’re more than happy to do. It doesn’t take him long to invite you to his house, gradually letting you in on some of the mystery that was Yoshikage Kira. 

Killer Queen is... very confused. In the beginning, it just kind of stares at you until you approach it, cupping it's face. Killer Queens' eyes widen. What the fuck is this thing and why is it touching me?! But slowly melts into it (sort of like those cheetah pictures). It curiously plays with your hair, pulling out tangles or just petting it. Still unsure how to feel about you, but it's user seems to like you well enough, so you should be fine. One rare days, when Kira allows it, it’ll slowly curl itself around you while you were watching a movie or reading a book, nuzzling into your cheek softly. Of course, this is well into the relationship.

He doesn’t acknowledge this to your face, but deep down, he’s a little jealous. He wishes that it were him there and not his stand. He feels every bit of what you do to Killer Queen ten fold. It does something to him, watching the stand show his soft side to you, he can’t explain it but he knows at that moment he can’t let you go.

Kira will buy you fancy moisturizer but doesn't typically help you apply it unless you ask. When you do ask, he's gentle about it, but you can see the wild look in his eyes. When you try to pull away, his grip stops you, quick and firm. He looks up at you dangerously, then softens, letting you go much to his disappointment.

He loves when you cup his face, soft palms cradling him, rubbing gently. One of the few times he lets himself go, in a sort of sense. Sure fire way to get him to fall asleep where he’s not really supposed to. He’ll lazily kiss your palms, knuckles and fingers, anywhere he can. 

His life is very regimented, he makes a schedule and sticks to it, this shows in the way he interacts with you. In the mornings at the same time, with out fail, he’ll tangle his fingers in yours, soft and sweet. Then, he brings your hand to his lips, tenderly kissing your knuckles, lost in the feeling of your hand in his for just a minute before telling you to have a good day and leaving. Then, when he gets home he find you sitting in your chair at the table (you’ve grown used to his routine by now and know he expects you there unless you’ve given him a reason to expect other) and does the same thing, but more desperate this time. He’s been working all day and needs some release which even more evident in the way his lips brush against yours. 

Touch starved, but doesn't need your touch, you know? Like, he loves feeling your hands all over him, but only at certain times, usually when he's trying to relax after work. But, he’s usually fine on his own. Don't touch his hair. He has perfected his style, does not want anyone to mess it up. Don't touch his hair.

When you two are home together on the weekends, you usually relax by reading a book or watching his soap operas.

Prefers if you are a stay-at-home spouse, wanting to do most of the working and bill-paying himself, but will begrudgingly comply if you have one before moving in with him. He likes having someone at home preparing things for him like food, or doing the laundry, cleaning.

Doesn't expect you to cook and do everything for him, but he's gracious when you treat him to a lovely pasta dinner with a glass of red wine.

He calls you regularly when at work, always on his lunch break. Occasionally, you'll meet him at his favourite food place and have lunch with him which he is more than pleased about, if a little worried. If people start to suspect him and you're seen with him, you'll be the first to go whether you move out or have an... accident, he knows you'll be dangerous to his safety. As much as he would love for you to stay with him, he knows you'd just run away if you knew who he really was.

Wake him up with a massage and he will be in the happiest mood ever. Gentle fingers rubbing along his shoulders and collarbones, soft kisses on his cheeks and lips. Best way for him to wake up. Loves it. One of the few times you will see him officially soft towards you. Not that he’s cold any other time, just a little reserved with his affections.

Down for baths together. Lots of bubbles and soothing lotions, cups of warm milk with honey for both of you (seeing as these usually happen before bed). Another moment when he's soft and genuinely caring, not obsessed. Pours the water over your shoulders, kissing them and rubbing circles into your muscles.

NSFW

Alright, the hand fetish is a given, but consider this: choking Kira with long nails? Eh? Eeeh? I'm sorry, but I love bottom!Kira. Like, lightly dragging your claws down his neck, before wrapping around it and squeezing until his eyes roll back into his head. *chefs kiss*

Loves to suck on your fingers while you ride him or jerk him off with the other hand. Or even just feeling your hands running over his body. It sets his skin on fire. 

     You pushed Kira down onto the bed, legs on either side of his torso. He could feel everything. Every breath you took, every light drag of your nails on him, every movement of your hips, everything and it drove him wild. One particular harsh scratch down his chest had his eyes rolling back into his head and hips bucking instinctively. 

     A light chuckle escapes you and you tut your tongue. He sighs through his nose, avoiding eye contact. You hum as you bring your hand up to his face gently cupping it, making him look back at you. You smile coyly, then push your hand down on his neck, choking him. Kira groans, shifting his legs to try and alleviate some of the pressure in his pants. 

    You just laugh again, whispering something about him not getting off that easy and he whines again as you roll your hips into the prominent bulge in his pants.

Prefers riding to missionary, or just hands-free orgasms with vibrators and the like. Has a soft spot seeing you doubled over, ass in the air and filled to the brim with a vibrating dildo in your ass, barely conscious enough to lick the precum off his dick, or attempt to get yourself off.

Orgasm denial is his middle name. Loves to see you struggle to form sentences when he stands above you, perfectly bothered by it.

Pet play. Another given. There's something about you on your knees next to him while he's eating or reading, patiently waiting for him to lift you up and bend you over the nearest counter or the couch or something. It gets him riled up and he has to struggle to control himself. He doesn't even consider touching you until he's finished his book or cleaned his plate completely. Then, he'll give you some relief.

Spanking? Yes. An absolute yes. He'll flip you over his knee whether you've been good or not and just smack your ass over and over again. He'd keep you there until he came home the next day, if he could and believe me, he would. Coming home to dinner on the table and then into your shared bedroom where you lay spread, ready and waiting for him. His feral side comes out more than he would like.

     Kira pulls you over his lap, running his hands down your back soothingly. Your hands were tied in front of you and your mouth was gagged. He pets your hair with one hand while the other pulls down your bottoms, kneading your ass. He tuts his tongue. 

     “You were waiting for this, weren’t you?” He smacks your bare cheek, humming when you let out a muffled sound of shock. “Of course, what else would you be waiting for?” Another smack echoes through out the room along with your mewls, and then another. And another. Each just as hard as the last or harder. 

     “Mmm~” You cry out, a tear falls freely from your eye. He wipes it away, letting his other free hand travel down to your genitals, remarking on how turned on you are.

     “You enjoy this, don’t you? Would you like more?” Kira sounds almost sweet when he asks, petting your hair gently again. “Is this how you would like to cum?” Desperately, you nod your head. Yes, yes you need more! Please more. He smiles and kisses you wherever he can, more than happy to comply.

Loves hand jobs. So much. It's quick, it leans into his hand thing and the sight of your hands wrapped around his cock. Oh, yeah. Loves it. Oh, and those lips on the tip? Mmmmm.

Doesn't usually get feral when it comes to sex, he's in control most of the time but on days when he's seen someone that he just had to have, but knew he couldn't, be prepared to be fucked against the wall. His thrusts are bruising and harsh, every time you try to catch your breath, he thrusts into you again, making you hiccup. It's a wild ride, so be prepared.

Now. Killer Queen. Not the most sexual stand but... I'd ride it. He'll use KQ as a punishment for when you've been bratty in the bedroom. It'll thrust into you harshly and just stay there while you squirm. Kira, of course, will be watching from the armchair the entire time, calling you all sorts of degrading names and telling you that his stand will only move if you agree to whatever absurd request that he gives you.

Now, back onto bottom!Kira. Men get pegged? Is that still a thing? Because he sure as hell does. Push him down into the bed and just ruin his ass, then cling to him afterwards. He’ll be obsessed with you from then on. Bonus points if you shove your fingers into his mouth while doing so. He cums almost instantly and a lot.

You could try pulling his hair when taking him from behind, but it depends on his mood. On the days he needs an outlet to get out his frustration or to let go of tension, he’ll let you, but other than that, follow the rule of don’t touch his hair.

Now, cock warming? Oh yeah. Anytime, any place, he would just love to keep you on him 24/7. Or warming your cock/strap on him? Hell yeah. Have him sit on you while he tries to read a book or something and occasionally move your hips, the tip just rubbing against his prostate, just slowly watching him lose his patience before putting whatever he had down and fucking himself on your cock, real or otherwise.

I find that some of the most reserved people I know are the kinkiest and this 100% shines true wit Kira. He’d never admit it, but he’s open for almost everything, I think

[tomtenadia]

Island Dreams - Chapter 30

Welcome to chapter 30. It's moving time and Rowan and Aelin finally enjoy their new house. This chapter also has a lot of domestic fluff. :)

There are two chapters left in the story and the epilogue and this adventure is almost over.

Enjoy.

--------

Summer had decided to linger a bit longer that year and Rowan was happy that the sun was shining. It was moving day and they needed good weather. Lysandra and Aedion had offered to help and now the two men were unloading the van that they had finished preparing the night before. Rowan had no idea of how much stuff they had until they had started loading the van. “Well, I guess I won’t need the gym for a while,” joked Aedion carrying another box in the house. “We’ll have a nice dinner tonight to recharge.” “A nice juicy stake.” Rowan flinched “No can do. Aelin can’t stand beef at the moment. She can tolerate chicken if cooked in a certain way, not good with turkey and pork depends on days. But for some reason fish is not an issue. So I am very limited in what I can cook.” “I’ll be happy with anything.” Aedion shrugged.

Then Rowan turned his gaze to Aelin and Lysandra, sitting on the grass drinking iced tea and probably gossiping. Aedion joined him “I would have died of an heart attack if anything like that had happened to Lys.” Rowan sighed “I had a panic attack at the hospital. Never had one in my life. I had one when I saw her unconscious in bed.” Rowan looked at her. The cuts were now just pink lines on her body and were healing nicely and the bruises had finally gone. The cut on her head was healing as well and the stitched had finally come off but the horrible scar was still visible until her hair around the wound would grow back, so Aelin had started wearing bandanas for when there were other people around. He had bought her a few colourful ones so she could chose according to her mood. “Lys, you are not pregnant. You could help.” Shouted Aedion. “I am helping by making sure Aelin is fine.” “Skiver.” Commented Aedion. “She is right, I need a lot of support” chimed in Aelin. The two women laughed and the men went back to their jobs. They had removed their t-shirts and now both Lys and Aelin were staring at them in appreciation. “I am glad we are in the middle of nowhere because I would be very upset to share such vision with someone else.”muttered Aelin and Lysandra laughed “me too. And now that Aedion got some tan on him…” Aelin laughed back. They stared at their men a bit longer then Lysandra stood “I am making lunch. They need sustenance.” She walked to them “Are you guys hungry?” Aedion cleared some sweat from the forehead with his arm “Starving.” “In the kitchen there is a bag on the table that has stuff I brought from the old house that needs to be used. There are cherry tomatoes and salmon flakes. I usually make a pasta condiment with them, Aelin loves it.” “Good.” She winked at them. “Thank, Lys.” Said Rowan to the woman. “It’s the least I can do. Those muscles need fuel.” And she left them with a laugh. Forty minutes later Lysandra called from the kitchen window that the food was ready. Rowan stopped working and went to her followed by Aedion. Together they brought the food out in the garden where Aelin was camped. Rowan brought a plate to Aelin and kissed her head “extra portion for you.” “It smells amazing.” Once everything was out and on the table cloth Rowan had placed on the ground, they all finally sat down for lunch. “This is actually quite amazing. Aedion and I have been having loads of meals outside since we moved her. It’s so nice. Definitely not something we could do in London.” Aelin placed the plate on the bump and Lysandra laughed “that’s handy.” “It is when you are so big that even leaning forward to eat can be a chore.” “How does it feel being stuck at home?” Aelin sighed “Is not that I have any other choice. Yrene has noticed some sign of placental abruption and sit and rest is all I am allowed to do until our girls are out.” And while she said that she took Rowan’s hand. He was with her at her last checkup when Yrene had given them the bad news. She saw terror in his eyes and she was willing to listen and stay put in order to avoid seeing that stare on him once again. Since her accident he had been far more protective and she had let him. Yrene had told her about his panic attack and her heart almost shattered at the image of him broken on the floor. “Well, Evalin is coming soon so you should be okay.” “Yeah, mum is coming in a week.” Aelin smiled. She was actually looking forward to seeing her mother again. It had been over a year and she realised she missed her. Rowan stood “Anyone wants seconds?” Aelin and Aedion passed him their plates. Lysandra stood as well “I am helping you.” She followed him in the kitchen and noticed his dark stare “Rowan, are you okay?” “Yeah,” his tone was flat while he filled the plates with more pasta. “Wanna talk about it?” “I almost lost her, them, Lys.” He let out, placing the spoon on the counter “If it hadn’t been for the belt she, they…” and he could not finish the sentence “I have never been more terrified in my life. I can’t leave her alone because I now have this irrational fear that something might happen. I am glad her mother is coming. It will allow me to go back to work and relax when I am not with her.” Lysandra saw his hands shake and she placed her on his “She is my best friend. I love her like a sister and when I got your call explaining what happened I cried for half an hour and I am glad I had no customers in the shop. Until I saw her I felt like I could not breathe.” He turned to her “don’t tell her any of this, please. She has enough to worry about without adding me.” “She knows, Ro. She knows you are worried and she probably noticed you are fussing more than usual and she is letting you because she knows it means a lot to you.” Rowan sighed “Thank you for being here today.” “Now let’s go back outside, we have to starving partners waiting for us, and Aedion gets grumpy when he is hungry.” They left the kitchen and went back to the garden “we bring more food for our bottomless pits.” “Hey, even Rowan is taking seconds today.” Aelin joked while grabbing her plate. “I am working, Fireheart, I need sustenance.” “We don’t want your nice muscle to suffer…” she kissed him tenderly.

It was late in the evening and after dinner when Aedion and Lysandra left and Rowan and Aelin stood in the mess that was their new house. “I guess that once we clear up all the boxes it will look much better.” Said Rowan, sitting on the sofa beside her and staring at the wall of boxes in front of them. “At least we have a kitchen, the bedroom and the bathroom. Our priorities are right.” “We’ll tackle one problem at a time.” He said placing a hand on her knee “I am wiped. We should go and enjoy our first night in our new house.” “I wish we could break in the new bedroom with some crazy sex but I guess it will have to wait.” He leaned forward to kiss her “it has to. Yrene said absolutely no sex.” “Spoilsport.” Rowan stood and offered his hands to her “come on, let’s get you three in bed.” “You really know how to woo a woman.” Rowan laughed and slowly they both walked upstairs. In their new home. Another tassel in their adventure together.

***

Rowan came back from the shop a bit later than usual. He had been teaching extra stuff to Lysandra. The woman was still helping him in the shop. Her job had been cancelled altogether and there were no openings at the hospital at the moment so she was more than happy to work in the bookshop and earn some money. “Aelin?” He walked around the ground floor but could not see her “Aelin?” Then he heard a thump and ran upstairs. He found her in the twins room, surrounded by pieces of wood and toys. “What are you doing?” His voice sounded panicked. That was the complete opposite of resting. “We have been so busy unpacking the house that we ignored the nursery. There is nothing ready and the girls will be here in four weeks. Aelin had been nesting for a few days now. She had become obsessed with tidying up the house, clean and get everything ready for the twins. All things she was not allowed to do as she was meant to be on bed rest. He sat down beside her “I can do it in a couple of days.” He pulled her to him. “We need to paint the walls, make sure we have all the clothes and all the stuff we need.” She rambled on listing all the jobs that need doing but Rowan was his usual calm self. “The nursery will be ready before they arrive, I promise.” “I tried…” and she started crying “I wanted to build the crib but with my big fat belly I can’t do much. I wanted to help.” Aelin leaned against his chest and kept sobbing. “Let me get changed into house clothes and I can start painting the room.” Aelin brushed her tears away with the back of her hand. “Do you want to use the pastel green we choose?” Aelin nodded. “Good.” He kissed her and left the room. Aelin gathered one of the stuffed toys on the floor and hugged it to her chest and then talked to her daughters “dad will make you a lovely room.” She looked around the empty nursery “nice and welcoming.” Rowan came back ten minutes later in shorts and a t-shirt “Ok, now you let me work in peace okay?” He passed her a box full of clothes “you can sort and organise the baby clothes. It’s an easy job and you can sit down for it.” She looked up at him “I love you.” He must have been exhausted. He had been unpacking the whole house by himself and gone to work as well and now he was painting the babies’ room. She started sorting through the clothes but then she stopped “we can’t use these.” Rowan turned “why?” “They are new. They have been in a bag since we bought them and then in a box. They are not clean. We have to wash them first.” Rowan sighed “put the clothes in a pile and I’ll wash them.” “I can do that.” Rowan got off the ladder and joined her “no you can’t. The laundry room is in the basement and you are not going there.” “I feel useless,” she started crying “you are doing everything. And you are working as well. All I do is sit and sleep.” He kneeled in front of her “That’s what Yrene needs you to do. Stay in bed, sit down, relax. Please.” Then he went to get a box “you can assemble the mobile for the crib. It’s easy.” “Yes.” She opened the box and gasped as she noticed the figurines “Rowan…” “I had it custom made. I found this amazing wood carver and I asked him to do this for me.” The figurines were all hand carved and beautifully painted. He had elves, a buzzard, a female figurine she was positive it was her and a knight with silver hair as well. It was something beautiful “Ro, this…” she had no words “this is gorgeous.” “I wanted them to have something original. I am no a fan of the plastic stuff you get in regular stores.” “I love it so much…”

It was two hours later when Rowan announced the room was done. Aelin had been keeping an eye but now that it was finished she was stunned. He had painted the pastel green they had decided and he had added stencil images of trees and clouds. The room looked amazing. He sat down beside her and Aelin laughed when she noticed the smudges of paint on his face and on his hair “launching a new style?” She ruffled his hair and kissed him. “Do you like it?” “It’s perfect.” She looked around the room then placed a hand on the bump “you have an amazing room, girls. Dad made sure of it.” Rowan eventually stood “Let’s go downstairs, I’ll make dinner.” Aelin shook her head “let’s order in. You have worked all day and then came home and did all this,” she motioned to the room “you are not cooking as well,” she shook her head again “you need to rest too.” “Can I at least phone the restaurant, place the order and collect it?” Aelin smiled wickedly “I am not sure you are qualified enough.” Rowan kneeled in front of her and kissed her “what, you think you are better than me at ordering food?” Aelin nodded, pulling him to her “I have a master and a PhD in it. I am a pro.” Rowan laughed and kissed her “Let’s go downstairs, the room needs to air.” He offered her a hand and helped her stand and slowly they made their way to the living room which had started to look a bit less like a mess. Rowan had been unpacking all of the boxes and together they decided which book place on the bookshelves in the living room. The library was still empty as they were waiting for the bookcases to be delivered. Right now it only had boxes in the middle of it waiting to be emptied. Between the two of them they had so many books that they could open a public library. Rowan was not worried. That job was not a priority. They would have to decide an order for shelving and they had to sort the books first. Aelin plopped heavily on the sofa and Rowan joined, then she grabbed her phone “Shall we have Chinese?” He leaned back on the sofa exhausted and nodded at Aelin and she noticed it and leaned over to kiss him. Then she phoned their favourite Chinese restaurant and convinced them to deliver to their address outside town. She was happy to pay extra and tip the driver as well. “They are happy to deliver.” “I could have gone to pick it up.” He added. “No.” He hand brushed his hair “Ro, you are exhausted. I don’t want you to drive all the way to Stornoway and back at night when you are seconds from falling asleep.” “Now, who is the one who is fussing?” He turned his head and gave her a wicked smile. “Fine. I am fussing but I am not letting you drive when you are this tired.” Rowan leaned forward begging for a kiss that she in the end gave him “I told Lys I am taking the day off tomorrow.” Aelin’s face lit up in delight “Good.” She flicked his nose “But we are sleeping in, then you can work all you want. But for once I don’t want you to get out of bed before ten.” “Nine.” “Ten.” She pushed, knowing full well that Rowan was an early riser and eight was the longest she ever managed to keep him in bed and now she couldn’t even use sex as an excuse. He sighed “you win. I’ll stay in bed with you until ten. But you stay in bed, rest and let me work. Do we have an agreement?” She huffed and yielded “fine, we have an agreement.” In that instant the doorbell rang and Rowan ran to get their food. He came back with all the containers and five minutes later they were tucking in in their food both ravenous and Rowan didn’t even complain when he realised all the choices Aelin made had little or no veggies. “I was thinking about options for our wedding.” She started, while biting on a spring roll “What about Mabon?’ Rowan looked at her in surprise and love. She had slowly embraced his beliefs without him ever pushing her. She had been curious from the beginning. She had explained him that she had never had any kind of beliefs and had been quite curious about his pagan side. She had been reading about it and asked him all sorts of questions. And now she had impressed him again “what do you know about Mabon?” She put her smug face on, one that Rowan adored “well, I know it’s the second of the three pagan harvest festivals, also I know it’s more modern pagan but I read about the wheel of the year and read about Mabon.” She started explaining “it’s a way to say thank you for the fruits that the Earth bore for us and get a blessing from the Gods.” She continued and noticed he was listening carefully “I know we planned to get married at Beltaine, which had a better symbolism and all,” she pointed at her bump “but that did not happen. So it seems Mabon is the best option, or we can wait till Samhain but I thought it was a bad idea.” Rowan dropped his food container on the table, grabbed the back of Aelin’s head and pulled her in for a fierce kiss “I’ll marry you any time of the year. As long as I get to call you my wife.” He kissed her again “but I love the idea of Mabon. The twins will be here so I am happy.” Aelin smiled “Are you sure?” He nodded vigorously “whatever makes you happy.” Aelin ate another spring roll “Then it’s settled. We are going for Mabon.” And all of a sudden she became alive and Rowan felt as if he could fall in love with her all over again. She grabbed a notepad she had abandoned on the table and a pen and started making notes “Wedding guests. Very small ceremony at Callanish. Intimate but I need to have Malcolm.” Rowan nodded. After what the man had did for Aelin after the accident he owed him, but he also really liked the man. “Then we can have a big ceilidh at Lews castle. Hopefully they are available on that day. And we need to find a ceilidh band. How does that work?” “Leave that to me.” “Good.” Then she started scribbling a bit more “I don’t want a big hoopla but I want some flowers a lovely cake and food for the party. But I want all local businesses.” She scribbled a bit more “your aunt. I’ll ask her. And I need to go back to that amazing seamstress who did my Summer solstice gown. She was amazing.” Rowan took her pen “You don’t have to do all of it tonight. You are on bed rest. You have plenty of time and wedding planning will keep you busy and out of boredom.” She smiled at him. “But I love all you said so far.” “Who is going to celebrate a pagan wedding. Is there a druid catalogue we can choose from?” Rowan roared with laughter “No, Fireheart. But I know a person who will be happy to marry us. She is a friend.” “Was she…” she was afraid to ask “Was she going to marry you an Lyria as well?” He shook his head “No.” His arm went around her shoulder and tucked her in close to him “she wanted the big hoopla. She was going for the full blown wedding in a church, with a lot of guests, a super fancy dress, expensive food and all the trimmings.” “Looks like you saved a lot of money.” She heard Rowan chuckle. Rowan kissed her head and realised Aelin was the only person with whom he could actually joke about what happened with Lyria. With other people he would usually shut down and avoid the topic. “Oh yes, she wanted the whole town to know she had bagged the most eligible bachelor. At least this before the accident.” She squeezed his hand. “Did you empty Chaol’s savings for your wedding?” “I actually wanted a small thing. Small and meaningful. Few friends, a private ceremony and few close friends for the party. I splurged on the wedding dress because I wanted to look awesome.” She explained “but he said he planned to get married only once and convinced me into having a big party. And I mean massive, Ro.” Rowan scoffed. “The man would have gotten married inside Westminster if he could.” She grabbed Rowan’s hand and placed it on the bump, the girls were active again “We almost had the whole of Scotland Yard, and a lot of my work colleagues, friends and family. It was overwhelming and it took ages to prepare. By the end of it I was ready to get married just to finally be free of all the wedding planning.” “I assume fancy honeymoon as well?” Aelin snorted “Maldives. He booked the honeymoon without consulting me as a surprise.” She groaned “I hated it. The whole two weeks.” “I thought you loved beaches.” “I do. But two weeks of nothing but sitting on our arses on a beach and do fuck all?” Rowan laughed “Some people would call that paradise.” “Well I don’t. I wanted to do Europe. Visit some capitals, soak in the history, visit museums, see Prague, Vienna, Budapest, Italy…” “We can do that. You and I.” “How? I can’t leave the twins on their own as newborns. They need me.” Rowan kissed her again “Once you are not nursing anymore. When they will start eating solid food, we’ll take two weeks off. I am sure your mom and my aunt will be happy to babysit for us.” “Are you sure?” His hand brushed her long blond hair and moved a wild strand behind her ear “Positive. When the time is right we’ll have a lovely honeymoon on the continent. I have been to Prague but not the rest and I’d make me very happy to discover it with you.” “Where ave you been all my life?” Her head leaned back against his chest, their hands still joined on the bump, enjoying their daughters’ movements. “Hiding in a bookstore on an island in the west of Scotland.” Then Aelin stood “come on, most eligible bachelor, let’s go to bed.” Rowan stood and started to clear the mess from their dinner but Aelin stopped him. “It’s late. Let’s go to bed. We can clean up tomorrow.” He gave up and followed her. “Did you have fans? Girls coming to see you compete and having the hots for you?” Rowan coughed “Actually yes. It was so annoying.” “Oh poor baby,” Aelin patted his cheek in a mocking tone once they reached the landing at the top of the stairs “must have bee horrible to be famous.” He kissed her “really horrible when you are an introvert and hate the spotlight.” They both got ready and Aelin climbed in bed and Rowan followed soon after “Did you do interviews and such?” “I did. After I kept winning I started to attract the attention. Then when my name was added to the list of people who would travel to Edinburgh and get the chance to become the Scottish swimmer to be part of the national team the town went ballistic. I was the only guy from Lewis. So I let you imagine.” “You were a celebrity,” she snuggled closed to him while laying on her left side and Rowan was in front of her. “Do you ever wonder how your life would have been if you had gone to the Olympics? Perhaps won a gold medal? Married Lyria?” Rowan sighed, grabbed her hand and placed it on his heart “Probably not as happy as I am now.” And he turned and lay on his back, his face staring at the ceiling and her hand still on his heart “most likely divorced as well.” He turned his head to her “I have a gut feeling that my marriage with Lyria would not have lasted long. I don’t know why.” He explained “I loved her. And when I proposed I did it out of love but later, much later when I finally started to accept that she had left me and did not love me anymore I started to think about our relationship and realised that my friends had been right all long. I was fooling myself and she actually never really loved me.” Aelin stared at him. He had closed his eyes and with the back of her hand she traced the lines of his face and saw a thin smile appear on his face. “I love you.” Whispered Aelin while her hand brushed a strand of hair away from his face “Even when this world is a forgotten whisper of dust between the stars, I will love you.” His face blossomed in a bigger smile, and his green eyes were now fixed on her “are you quoting our favourite book?” “You are mine.” She added, kissing him. He propped himself up on his elbow and looked at her “Is leatsa mi.” He repeated in Gaelic as his mouth trailed soft kisses on her neck. “Girls, dad is a sappy romantic.” She told the twins and heard Rowan scoff. “You started it.” “I know Whitethorn, but I am pregnant and hormonal. You are just sappy.” He grabbed the blanket and buried her underneath it “sleep or I will leave the bed at six tomorrow.” Aelin switched off the light on the nightstand and grabbed his hand, placing it on the bump with hers “night.” “Oidhche mhath, mo chridhe.” He felt a kick from his daughters and slowly fell asleep as well.

TAG:

@rowaelinismyotp

[blu-joons]

Underneath The Mistletoe ~ Kim Wonpil

It had been tradition since you started dating Wonpil that the night before Christmas would be spent with his members, but as nice as it was to see them all, the tidying up was never fun for any of you, especially with five boys as messy as you were.

It was a relief to see your flat back to its usual state at the end of a long night, you couldn’t stop yourself from yawning as you walked around, picking up all the empty beer cans and food containers throwing them into the bag that you carried around.

Wonpil was also making his way around the house making everything clean so the two of you could wake up tomorrow with nothing to worry about, and just be able to enjoy the start of your Christmas together without any stresses.

Once it was all finally done, you both collapsed on the sofa, propping your tired legs up on the coffee table. He didn’t say a word, but rested his hand over yours, squeezing it gently as a thank you for inviting the boys all around to your place.

You loved being around the boys, they were a huge part of Wonpil’s life, but that didn’t stop you enjoying the peace and quiet once they’d all gone home, embracing your boyfriend’s company all alone without anyone around to try and steal it.

“I don’t even know if I can stay up until midnight, my eyes are so tired I feel like I could sleep the whole way through Christmas,” he complained.

Your head nodded in agreement; you were completely exhausted too. The build up to Christmas was always busy, and last-minute present shopping hadn’t helped the two of you either, piling through all the shops in amongst the busy crowds.

He lifted his arm up, inviting you to cuddle into your side as yet another yawn came from you again. Your hand rested against his chest feeling his head relax over yours, allowing his eyes to close for just a few moments and enjoy the quiet in your apartment.

“What do you say to just sleeping here tonight?” He proposed, pulling one of the blankets down from over the top of the sofa. “I don’t think my legs can even carry me to bed as this point.”

As nice as an idea as it sounded, you knew the two of you would regret it in the morning. You were reluctant, but slowly you rose to your feet, offering your hand out for Wonpil to take, helping him rise to his feet as well.

His body fell into yours as soon as he stood, feeling your arms wrap around him. “You’re a cruel woman for making me move, I hope you know that.”

“You’ll thank me in the morning when you’re not ceased up.”

“I’m not that old, my body doesn’t cease up just yet. I’m still in my prime I’ll have you know,” he teased, pushing you towards your bedroom.

The two of you were quick in getting yourselves ready for bed, the sooner you could relax under the duvet and block out all of the cold the better. Neither of you ever really coped well in the winter, Christmas aside, it was actually both of your least favourite seasons.

You were the first to slide in, wiggling your legs across the mattress to try and warm it up as best as you could. Wonpil chuckled as he walked back through after using the bathroom, “I’m sure what you’re doing has a purpose, but you look stupid doing it.”

“Say that again and you can sleep on the floor tonight rather than the nice bed I just warmed up for you,” you scolded, flicking the duvet up so he could slide in beside you, pulling you nice and close into his body for extra warmth.

He chuckled as you wrapped yourself around his body, thankful that you’d warmed the bed up for him as he stretched his exhausted legs out.

“How nice does it feel just to be able to lay here without having to do anything?”

You hummed in agreement with him, the last few days had been beyond hectic. Whilst you loved spending all the time with Wonpil and making countless memories along the way, being an adult at Christmas was a lot more stressful than you ever remembered it being as a child. You just had to keep reminding yourself that it would be worth it in the end, and all over by the end of tomorrow.

Wonpil knew exactly how you were feeling, he’d never had such a busy festive period, but if he were really honest, he would not have changed a single thing about it all.

“It’s nearly midnight,” you heard his voice whisper as you began to feel yourself drift off to sleep.

“We might as well stay up until midnight, at least see in Christmas properly,” you suggested.

He couldn’t argue with you as he was far too tired, instead he held onto you tightly as he reached down underneath the bed, pulling something up with him and slipping it under the duvet before you noticed what he was doing.

He waited for the clock to hit midnight before tapping your shoulder. “I don’t think it’s really Christmas unless we share a kiss under the mistletoe, don’t you agree?”

A gasp came from you as he lifted the mistletoe out from underneath the mistletoe, holding it directly above both of your heads. Tradition stated you couldn’t turn away, so you cupped the side of his face and stretched up to press a sweet kiss to his lips, feeling his other hand wriggle around your waist making sure that you stayed as close to him as possible.

“I never knew you could be so romantic,” you teased as he pulled away from you, wiping away the marks of your lip stick that you’d forgotten to take off from his cheek. “How long have you been hiding that under there?”

“I put it there last night as a just in case, I didn’t really think we’d make it to midnight,” he honestly spoke, “with the boys leaving so early I thought we’d be in bed by ten.”

“It’s their fault for making such a mess around the place for us to tidy up.”

His eyes lit up, “but if they didn’t, then I would have never got to kiss you into Christmas.”

The charms Wonpil possessed glistened as his hand attacked your side making you erupt into giggles, your legs flew everywhere as you tried to push him away, far too exhausted to even try and play these games with him.

“It’s one-minute past twelve and I’ve not even wished you a Merry Christmas yet,” he whispered to your ear.

As he spoke, you were quick to turn around and make sure you said it first, unable to stop yourself from laughing at the shock across his face. It only made him tickle your hips further as you struggled to fight back against him, pleading with him to stop.

“I’ll stop, but only if you give me another kiss under the mistletoe,” he compromised, “that’s the only way you’ll get me to stop tickling you.”

“I’ll do it as long as you promise to get off.”

He nodded, grabbing the mistletoe yet again, puckering his lips for you to press a soft kiss to. Yet as you pulled away, he brought you closer towards him deepening the kiss for a few moments before moving away. “You’re a good kisser my love.”

“You’re only saying that, so I kiss you more.”

You weren’t wrong, but Wonpil never needed a reason for a kiss from you. The two of you were well known around your friendship group for being overly affectionate with each other, not necessarily obvious, just subtly adorable with each other.

“Maybe some kisses with you can be my Christmas present?”

Your head shook, tapping lightly against his chest. “I’ve got you a much better Christmas present than just a few kisses. You’ll just have to wait until tomorrow morning to see what it is.”

“But technically it’s Christmas now, surely a couple of hours won’t do no harm, and we’re awake anyway. Can’t you just get it and show me?”

“No way, that would ruin Christmas. Now you’ll just have to sleep knowing I’ve got you the most incredible present and guess what it is,” you teased, rolling away from him and closing your eyes, “the sooner you sleep the sooner it will be the morning.”

His eyes rolled, but that didn’t stop him wrapping an arm around you as he settled to sleep as well, trailing several kisses along your shoulder to try and sweeten you up.

“You can kiss me all you want; I’m still not telling you.”

You chuckled as he sighed heavily, “how do you always manage to know what my intentions are. Can’t you just give me a little clue? Not even the slightest hint.”

“I’m not telling you anything, goodnight Wonpil.”

---

Masterlist

[sinkingsidewalks]

why do memories glow (the way real moments don't)

Chapter 5: if your part of me is gone now (do I wanna survive)

January 2008

Jemma stood outside the building, staring out across the campus. People rushed to and fro, past and around her and all over the lawn in front of her, which had a sprinkling of snow on it. It was cold, just below freezing, and she wasn’t wearing the right coat for it, she’d gone for looking fashionable and presentable over being warm, but she stood shivering, not moving.

She was done. Her four years at MIT were over. All her classes were complete, her research finished, and her dissertation defended. There was nothing to do now.

She had job offers, research offers, but it didn’t feel the same. She was twenty years old, an actual adult now instead of the teenage one she’d been pretending to be for years. If she’d stuck to the timeline she was supposed to take, if she hadn’t skipped years of school and combined university programs, she would be halfway through an undergrad, instead she had two PhDs. Her peers would be partying, working menial jobs, and skipping classes. They would be changing their major every three months, utterly uncertain of the future; Jemma didn’t feel much more solid in hers.

Getting a job was necessary, the last eighteen months had blown through every penny of her savings and she’d no longer have a visa to stay if she didn’t, but she had no idea how to choose. She’d never done it before, had never really been employed except by the university, and as much as she’d love to teach, she was far too young to command any authority in a classroom, not when her students would be her own age. She’d tried to make a pro and con list for the various positions she’d been offered and the page had stayed entirely blank, she’d come up empty.

There had been a certain ease in choosing universities, the first one close to home, then where she’d found an advisor she got along with, but she had no idea about labs or offices. She’d met with department managers, had good conversations about science and research, but she had no clue how to vet how someone would be as a manager.

Part of her was thinking about tossing a coin, or taking the highest paycheque, but even the thought of that made her uneasy. Research could be a delicate thing, and she didn’t want to end up a lab monkey for some soulless corporation. But she was also afraid of taking too long, of being too picky and having offers dry up, leaving her stranded, on a plane back to England.

She couldn’t go home. She couldn’t move back in to her parents’ house, live with the coolness between her and her mother even though she knew her Dad would welcome her with open arms, and find a job at a UK lab instead. The mere thought made her sick to her stomach. In the intervening years she’d been for Christmas, for a week of holiday in the summer, but it put a pit of something in her stomach that she couldn’t name, it made her feel unsteady, unmoored, like she was far away from herself. Or maybe like she was far away from Fitz, far away from the baby. He’d be almost two and a half and only when it was very late at night did she allow herself to wonder what he looked like.

It felt like there was a tether between them all, like they were three points, stretching a triangle into different angles as they moved through the world. The rope didn’t reach across the ocean.

She stood outside the building, watching groups of students walk, watching people laughing with their friends and others rushing into the cover of buildings, feeling cold, feeling alone.

August 2006

She was awake as midnight ticked over, watched it on her clock as the time changed, and so did the date. It had been a year. The baby would be turning one. She wondered what his parents had planned, if they were the big party type or just a small family gathering.

She’d held her son for exactly ten minutes, after he’d been cleaned off and whisked away for testing because of low oxygen levels. She’d called Fitz while she waited, it was late enough by then for him to be home, kicked out of the lab, to tell him that if he wanted to meet the baby he should come in the next few hours. Then she’d held him gently around the cannula in his nose and said goodbye.

Their adoption advisor had showed up then, she’d walked Jemma through the paperwork she had to fill out, including his birth certificate. Even though she knew his real family would change it she had to name him, which felt odd, and she was in such an exhaustive haze she’d written the only thing that had come to mind; Leopold James Fitz. She’d had the presence of mind to tack ‘Simmons’ on the end and had fallen asleep in her hospital bed for a few hours.

When she woke May was there again, guiding her into her clothes then out to the car. It was late, the streets were dark and empty and she’d felt hollow, ripped apart. Kendra was asleep when she got into the apartment and so was Fitz, passed out in her bed. She’d crawled in with him and hadn’t gotten up for a week.

Fitz and Kendra had taken turns cooking for her, leaving plates on her bedside table and taking away the dirty ones, the half-finished or picked over ones between their work and research and classes. There were times when they both lingered at the doorway, books in hand, but she could only shake her head when asked if she wanted company, even though she didn’t want to be alone either. She felt alone, even when they were there. Her own work went untouched, but May didn’t bother her for progress, had only showed up once to drop off a peri bottle and cabbage leaves without a word. Jemma still didn’t know who took over her teaching assistants duties.

Eight days later she’d hauled herself into the shower and stood there for over an hour as the dried blood and leaked breast milk and hospital smell ran down the drain. She washed her hair twice, ran the hot water for the whole building dry, and only then, once the water dwindled to lukewarm did she emerge.

She was passed it now, or as passed it as she could be. Somewhere in Connecticut it was a little boy’s first birthday, but that boy wasn’t her son, he never had been.

She wondered what Fitz was doing, if he was aware enough to know what the date was or if he was so buried in his research he’d lost all concept of time, of reality. She knew he’d remember the significance if he remembered the date, but that was always a toss-up with him. It had been weeks since she’d talked to him, maybe even months, she could hardly remember.

There had been one late night phone call, where he’d been exhausted and delirious, talking about an issue that had come up with his thesis, but she’d been just as tired and overworked it was impossible to remember what day that had been, what week, when every hour bled into the next. She was fairly certain he’d called her by accident, by reflex, because she was the person he was used to talking to when he had an issue and vice versa, because she wasn’t sure if they were friends anymore.

It had seemed possible, at the end of her pregnancy, that they could get through it, but the more time went on the harder it was to pretend that everything was normal. The summer ended, a new school year started, Fitz was locked up in the lab and Jemma started a new TA job. They didn’t speak for days, then weeks, then a month, then two.

She had no doubt that if she needed him, that if she called him, for anything, he would come running, without a second of doubt or hesitation, but she had no reason to call him. They crossed paths on campus, they hung out with mutual friends, but she didn’t feel like she could read his mind anymore, didn’t know his every thought and feeling by the quirk of his eyebrow. She knew he would never disappear entirely, that she’d never lose track of him, that he’d never leave her life entirely, but they would continue to orbit around each other, binary stars pulled towards the barycenter of a child they didn’t know.

She rolled over in her bed, made her body relax piece by piece and counted her breathing, trying to get to sleep, even though she knew she couldn’t.

Read the rest on AO3

[himbowelsh]

Well now I need touch starved Liebgott something! I always imagined Webgott to work the other way around. Y'know Web being unused to hugs and Lieb having no sense of boundaries. But I'm really intrigued by a concept of switching it up.

hello i’m in tears bc this took so long to write, but...  enjoy an extremely touch-hangry boi.  be warned, for copious amounts of obscenely soft cuddling.

Long story short, it goes like this.

David’s just finished an article, two hours ahead of the frankly unreasonable deadline sent by his editor; he collapses on the couch, promptly kicks his sock-clad feet up on the coffee table, and slumps against Joe’s side.

Joe goes very still.

At first, David thinks it’s because of his feet. Joe can be weird about things like that; he values cleanliness, and “not acting like fuckin’ animals in the house, Jesus, Web”. All the things David was never allowed to do growing up in his family’s Manhattan penthouse  ---  like leave dishes out or discard his clothes in messy piles  ---  are exactly the sort of things that drive Joe insane. He kind of relishes doing them, just to see the twitch Joe gets by his eye, and for the way he grips his hips roughly when he growls at him to “quit leaving your shit everywhere”. David’s natural sloppiness leaves Joe needing an outlet for his frustration… and their shared bedroom is kept very clean. It works out great for both parties.

So, sure, it’s probably just the feet on the table… he thinks for a grand total of eight seconds, before looking up to catch Joe’s eye.

His boyfriend’s gaze has gone impossible soft. It takes David’s breath away, a little, because Joe isn’t like that as a rule. He’s sharp edges and broken glass, jagged teeth and bladed grins. He’s harsh as sandpaper and smooth as steel. He’s frustrating, and his gentle moments come and go like fickle summer storms.

To be fair, impromptu cuddling on the couch isn’t like them either… but David needs it tonight, and stepping outside the bounds of their normal relationship can’t be the worst crime in the world. He holds Joe’s gaze for a moment, questioning and careful… but, instead of pulling away, Joe just takes a moment before sighing. His arm wraps around David’s shoulders, pulling him close.

“Rough night, Web?” he asks, an undercurrent of implication in his voice. This ain’t like you. You alright?

“You have no idea.” David rests his stubbled cheek against Joe’s chest, sighing deeply as the tension slowly drains from his muscles. Joe is hesitant to react; his actions, even as he rubs up and down David’s shoulder, lack his usual fearlessness. Joe can grab his ass in the middle of a crowded bar, or ruffle his curls just to get on his nerves… but this casual intimacy is uncharted territory for him.

He needs a distraction from his own head. David’s got just the thing. “How would you,” he sighs, “like to hear about the plight of Heteractis anemone? Because I just wrote four thousand words on it.”

“Heter— huh.” Joe sighs into the crown of his head, ruffling his curls. “Pretty sure Guarnere caught that once.”

“Knowing him, he’s still got it,” David replies. When Joe laughs, it reverberates in his chest, a low rumble in David’s ear.

“Yeah, alright, Web. Tell me all ‘bout your anemoles.”

“Anemone.”

“Yeah, what’d I say?” Joe presses his grin into David’s hair. “Amenemes.”

“Anemo-- damn it,” he mutters, burying the words against his boyfriend’s chest. Joe laughs even harder… and, like it or not, the sound it a balm to David’s frayed nerves. Even better are the strong arms which wrap around him, fully encompassing his shoulders and pulling him against Joe’s body. It’s… more than he was anticipating, more than they probably need, but it feels nice, and he doesn’t want to pull away. David melts against him, curling his legs with Joe and letting himself drift off. Fingers card gently through his hair; his boyfriend’s warm breath caresses his temple… and being this close feels so good that he forgets to remember it isn’t ordinary at all.

If he looked up at that exact moment, he might have found Joe enjoying it even more than he was… but David, as usual, preferred to sail away.

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

That really should have been the end of it… but after their night of unexpected intimacy, it’s like a dam has broken.

Joe does it at unexpected moments. While David is flipping pancakes in the kitchen, he comes up behind him and wraps his arms around his waist, chin looping over his shoulder. They just sort of… stay there. David is so surprised that he ends up charring the pancake, which Joe eats anyways, because he’d inhale charcoal if he was hungry enough… but while his boyfriend is wolfing blackened pancake lumps down his throat, no explanation is offered. David doesn’t know how to ask.

He’s brushing his teeth; Joe comes up behind him and holds his hips, just staying there for a few minutes. He’s reading a book in bed; Joe lies down, curling into his side like an automatic reflex. They’re watching whatever B-rated action flick Joe just insisted on going to see at the Cineplex, and Joe holds his hand the entire time.

Calling it strange is an understatement. It’s fucking bizarre.

Which isn’t to say Joe’s been shy about physical contact before, because he hasn’t. He’s just always been measured with it. Joe doesn’t hold back from touching people, grasping their shoulders or clapping them on the back… but he never goes overboard with it. His touches don’t linger. He’s a handsy person by nature, but David never considered before that he weighs every touch before giving them out. 

If that’s the case, what’s changed? Why has he suddenly become so free — even apparently craving — touches he’s never asked for before?

David doesn’t know much about the scientific method, but any good journalist can test a hypothesis as well as a lab tech. Early one night, before either of them have gone to bed, he sits down next to Joe on the couch and sets the remote in his boyfriend’s lap.

“Anything but reality TV,” is all he says, and Joe smirks as he turns the station to some late night show.

He’s paying attention; David is not. Instead, his attention is fixed firmly on Joe, not even trying to hide it. The curve of his profile, the shadows along his neck and collar, the way he always lounges when he sits… like he’s trying to take up as much space as possible. Something about him seems inexplicably, undeniably lonely.

David leans over and wraps an arm around Joe’s shoulders. The reaction is expected; Joe goes tense, like he’s trying to figure out what the hell is going on. David counts back in his head:  ten… nine… eight… seven…

Before he gets to five, Joe’s relaxed into him. Easy as that — it’s like teaching a puppy to eat food, or a baby to cry. Joe and touch go together like authors and caffeine. Touching is easy for him, but being touched is the most natural thing in the world.

A flame kindles to life within David’s chest, and soon it’s warming him from the inside out. He can’t keep a fond smile from his lips. After a moment, his hand strays up to Joe’s hair, threading gently through the well-maintained strands. Joe’s always had a weakness for having his hair touched, and tonight is no exception. He makes a tiny, content noise and leans into David, the tension slowly draining from his body. It doesn’t take long before he’s leaning against him, head balanced against David’s chest. Arms still around him, David holds Joe tenderly, caressing his hair while occasionally pressing kisses to the crown of his head. Joe’s heartbeat is steady, his muscles lax. David charts the gentle rhythm of his breathing until he’s sure his boyfriend has dropped off to sleep.

When he looks down, a wave of tenderness washes over him. Joe Liebgott with every guard down is a thing to see. He so rarely looks peaceful. There’s something restless about Joe, a relentless hunger thrumming just beneath his skin, determined to break free. He’s always had an edge of urgency to him… but now, dozing against David’s chest, he looks without a care in the world.

He ought to be this way all the time. He deserves to be happy all the time. God help him, if David has any say in it, Joe will be.

“Is it my birthday or something?” Joe asks, when David, completely unprompted, begins massaging his shoulders. “Shit, don’t tell me I’m another year older and just forgot.”

“Not for another few months, old man,” David replies. On reflex, Joe tries to twist and grab him, but David’s massage doesn’t let up; after a minute, he relaxes into it, slumping further back against David’s chest.

“You been acting weird lately,” Joe declares — as though David needs to be good, and as though he wasn’t the one acting weird to begin with. “Everything fine at work? You didn’t… gamble away our savings to the mafia, or promise Sobel our firstborn kid or something? If you got news for me, Web, I can take it without a bonus massage.”

“Why do you think — wait, we’re going to have kids?”

“Head in the game, Web. What’s going on?”

At once, he’s glad Joe is facing the other way, because David’s not sure what he could say otherwise. He frowns at Joe’s back muscles, kneading into them with a bit more force than necessary. Sure, he’s been… more physically affectionate these days. Joe no longer has to seek it out, because he gives it willingly… and even if touch doesn’t come naturally to David, the obvious way Joe eats it up when his touches linger in public or they draw close to each other in private makes it all worthwhile. Joe seems happier nowadays, so clearly it’s working fine.

Why’s he getting interrogated now?

“Am I not allowed to touch you?” he asks. “Just because I want to touch?”

“You ain’t a touchy-feely person. Never have been.”

“People change.”

“Not you.” Joe’s observation is too neutral for David to justify flaring up at it. “Come on, Web. What’s going on?”

He’s silent for a long moment before summoning a reply. “I want you to be happy,” he declares, finishing off Joe’s back massage with a caress of his neck. “I want you… to feel loved.”

Joe is silent for a beat before turning his head to look back at him. “That’s all, huh?”

“Yeah,” David huffs. “That’s all.”

It’s hard to make out Joe’s expression when one half of his face is cast into shadow, but David spots the amusement in his eyes… and something else, too, something softer that he can’t put his finger on. It sparks a familiar warmth in his chest, and he smiles.

“Well, don’t stop on my account,” Joe sighs. There’s no warning before he’s leaning back against David’s chest, but David’s ready this time. He opens his arms, embracing him as they go. Slowly, Joe relaxes into the comfort of his touch, and the world feels a little warmer.

[dopescotlandwarrior]

Sinners & Saints

A special thanks to @statell​ for all your help

Previous Chapters at AO3

Chapter Four

“Hmm, I’m sorry sir, this is a fake. I know that’s hard to hear. I will speak to the police if you want to make a report.”

“You bloody well look again. That vase is Ming so that means you are an idiot.”

Jamie walked to the appraisal room at Christie’s where Claire was working today. His fists balled up listening to the man yell at the Sassenach.

“I assure you it’s a fake sir and I’ve decided not to help you with a report, you can go.”

“If you move one step, I will stop you until you prove why it’s a fake.”

“Oh for Christ’s sake, fine.”

Claire picked up the vase and threw it against the wall making the man gasp, red-faced, while Claire pushed past him and picked up a shard. Jamie’s eyebrows went up and he tried not to laugh, completely spellbound by her.

“The only true test of a Ming is the blue color of the clay after it’s fired. See, this is white. Oh all right you big baby, I’ll pay for it, I’m sure I have a dollar bill in my purse.”

The man screamed like a banshee and lunged for her, feeling his feet leave the ground, his face changed to shock as he reached behind him trying to open the hand that held him. Jamie shook his head when the man started yelling for help. He dragged the man to the door and whispered in his ear.

“Get near the lady again and I’ll rip your throat out, okay?”

The man bolted out the door and spun around to look at Jamie who smiled and thanked him for coming before closing the door. There were only two more people waiting for Claire to appraise their art and both looked nervous, clutching their prized paintings and looking at the shattered mess on the floor. One lady left, and the other was thrilled she had an authenticated treasure. Claire was a popular appraiser and seemed to know exactly where to find proof of her valuation. She would spin her laptop and there it was, selling price and picture of a comparable piece from the same artist.

Christie’s was very good at locking the doors at six o’clock, even when people pounded to get in. The room was suddenly empty except for Jamie and Claire. He helped her pack up and though she seemed normal in every way he could feel a disturbance in her energy.

“Sassenach, we have been up late every night this week. If you’re as tired as I am, maybe you should rest tonight and not be pestered by me.”

“Did you just suggest room service and a movie before early shut-eye? If so, then I accept!”

Jamie smiled and exhaled gratefully. It would have been a supreme sacrifice to lose a night with the Sassenach and he loved her suggestion.

“It’s our last night together, so we can celebrate the holiday a day early in our pajamas okay?”

Jamie’s palm itched as he thought about running his hand up the satin nightgown. He would miss her when they both went home and he wondered what promises they would make, if any.

“Javier has invited you to dinner tomorrow night. He throws a lavish party on Christmas eve at his restaurant and wants to meet you. What do you say?” She wrapped her arms around his middle for a hug.

“Of course, it would be my honor.”

Claire laughed seeing Jamie load his arms up with all her belongings, “you are super hot and so darn useful Jamie.”

That made him laugh but truth be told, like it or not, he was living for her next statement of endearment, whatever that might be. He just wanted to matter to her because that was the first step in building something that would change their lives. As long as there was a chance he might catch Casper, there was a chance at a life with the Sassenach.

“Jamie, I want to hire you to show me some exercises to build up my upper body strength, what do you say? There’s a gym at the hotel and I am worried because I can barely do three pull-ups anymore.”

“It would be a pleasure to assist you Sassenach,” he smiled realizing they would have the entire day tomorrow. No work for either of them, but such a strange request from one so fair.

When Jamie knocked later that evening, Claire felt the now familiar butterflies take flight in her stomach. She was convinced he had no idea she was Casper so she could just be herself, a professor with a crush on a cop. She asked several questions over the last few days about which agency he worked for but he was vague with the answers, saying the task force he led was a multi-agency effort. She didn’t want to pry and assumed his partial answers were a testament to an underlying boredom or unhappiness with the job. She might overthink her way right out of these hot nights with him, so she stopped analyzing him and just looked forward to the next time his hungry eyes devoured her.

Jamie had shamelessly taken possession of her body and mind every night this week and tried to calm himself down as he walked to her door. Even if he needed handcuffs it was the Sassenach’s turn at seduction and he just had to wait. He groaned inwardly trying to think of anything except her long legs, tiny waist, long hair, perky breasts, and her sweet kisses. He felt defeated already.

After a delicious meal brought by room service, Claire curled up in Jamie’s arms for a new movie they both enjoyed. Halfway through Claire turned toward him and unbuttoned his shirt pushing it off his shoulders. She moved her hand down the arm that was wrapped around her waist and tried to concentrate on the movie. She twisted to face him ten minutes later and kissed his neck and chest, pulling his face to hers she kissed him deeply and touched him everywhere.

The movie ended and Claire got up to lite the candles and hand Jamie another beer. She pulled him to the side of the bed and straddled his lap, kissing him slowly and then sinking to the floor. Jamie was fascinated with her moves, feeling like she was trying them for the first time, but that was ridiculous.

Getting his jeans off seemed to take an eternity while Jamie studied her. Keeping his hands to himself allowed him to experience Claire’s world and it was so different he was astounded. When she put him in her mouth, he could see this act pushed her arousal and she lost herself until Jamie pulled her away. Her mouth was open and eyes half-closed when he pulled her face to him for a deep kiss. I promise to try again to let you lead Sassenach, but I’m taking over, he thought.

Later, in the dark, Jamie ran his fingers through her hair and marveled at the mystery of Claire Beauchamp.

“Sassenach, how does one so tender throw a vase against the wall in front of the owner?”

“It really got his attention,” she giggled in her sleepiness. “He’s an opportunist that got hustled is what he is. I have no respect for people like that. He knew nothing of its providence or even which dynasty and had the audacity to challenge my authority on the subject. He deserved it.”

Jamie cataloged her answer in his brain and smiled to himself when she asked him to come closer. He wrapped her up in his arms and listened to the human equivalent of purring. A low soft moan that came from a happy place deep within her. He slept and dreamed of Lallybroch feeling her shift position through the night and reach for him. His sweet Sassenach.

Jamie was up and dressed early to conclude some new hire business. He gently pushed the hair out of Claire’s face, and she smiled trying to pull him in for a hug. He kissed her cheeks and whispered he would meet her in the hotel gym at noon and then left her to her dreams.

The morning blew past as Claire wrote reports, made phone calls, and returned email. She was feeling happy like sparklers were going off inside of her. It was Christmas eve, a holy holiday, and Jamie would be with her to celebrate tonight. She bounced into the hotel gym and saw Jamie sitting on a bench, red-faced and sweating. A long bar was racked behind him with three large weights at both ends. Impressive, she thought, as she walked to him. He carefully kissed her cheek trying to avoid sweating all over her.

“Ah, my Sassenach, what is your goal with this workout?”

“I want to do at least five pull-ups, underhanded and over-handed, without effort please.”

Jamie walked around her and listed the muscle groups she needed to work, touching each while he circled her.

“You need specific strength building for biceps, triceps, pectorals, deltoids, trapezius, Rhomboideus major, and teres major. Are you joining the circus Sassenach?”

“Certainly not, but I carry heavy canvases that are getting more difficult to manage and it’s required to be a decent cat burglar.” She gave her best ‘I am a professor smile’ and giggled.

“Uncle” was muttered after an hour and she clung to Jamie. He walked her back to her room and gently massaged her tired muscles. He could feel them shaking under the skin and hoped he hadn’t pushed her too hard.

“You need to soak in a tub of hot water mo chridhe. I will watch the game and guard you. Okay?”

Jamie was asleep when she got out of the tub. He looked like a handsome angel, so serene in his rest. He was relaxed, unguarded, and he looked ten years younger. Something about Jamie made her feel hopeful and happy for some reason. She tried to imagine going back to Chicago, getting Frank out of her life, starting another semester, and the big decision about stealing art. That was the reality of her life, and this week was a sweet tryst with an incredible man, and that was all.

“Sassenach, come lass.”

He held his hand out to her and pulled her to him so he could make her forget whatever made her look so sad.

In late afternoon, Claire straightened her hair and lined her eyes putting two coats of mascara on her lashes, powder on her cheeks that shimmered, and red lipstick. She wore a silver sparkling wrap-around dress and thigh-high boots that stopped an inch from the hem. When she opened the door for Jamie, she was shocked. He wore a dark blue suit, white shirt and a paisley blue tie. He looked scrubbed with his hair slicked back. His eyes looked like blue diamonds.

“Wow, you clean up nicely,” she said wrapping her arms around him.

He had a gorgeous bottle of Italian Merlot in a gift box for Javier and Claire was very impressed. Rubbing her lipstick on a tissue she reached for him and kissed until his toes curled. He looked closely at her face and hair and she knew he loved the way she looked. What a fine way to start the evening, she thought.

Javier opened the door to greet them and was quite happy about the snow falling outside. He shook Jamie’s hand with a warm smile and kissed Claire’s cheeks. They were brought into the dining room of the restaurant where a huge table was set with finery. Javier made the introductions and Jamie sat down next to the host while Claire made her way around the table, hugging and kissing the people in Javier’s inner circle. When she came back to Jamie he was in a lively conversation with Javier and another man about the European football leagues. The men were laughing and Javier told the other man in French, “this kid knows his football.” Jamie thanked him in French making them all laugh.

Course after course was placed in front of Claire. Soup, salad, a sumptuous duck and roasted vegetables, followed by coffee, and a delightful chocolate mousse with fresh whipped cream. Claire would take two or three bites of each in order to finish the meal. Jamie ate every bite with a smile on his face and Javier almost cried. She watched Jamie engage any conversation that was offered, with the appropriate grace, humor, or sympathy. She was so grateful he came. When he was bantering with another guest, Claire watched is face until he turned his head and smiled at her. She could feel the blush spread across her cheeks as she quickly looked away. Two old women snickered to each other and talked behind their napkins.

Jamie shook hands with Javier who handed him a business card and asked him to call when he was in town. The blush on Jamie’s cheeks showed how much he appreciated the gesture. They piled into the back of the Rolls Royce and Joseph took them back to the hotel. He watched them kissing and was happy they were going to separate ends of the earth tomorrow. He could see no good coming from this relationship.

Joseph hugged Claire and when she turned around his smile disappeared and the look he gave Jamie made his blood run cold. The older man got behind the wheel and drove away without a backward glance. Jamie wasn’t sure what to make of that but he looked up and saw his pretty girl beckoning him out of the snow.

“Merry Christmas Jamie.”

“Merry Christmas Sassenach. Come here.”

At three in the morning, Claire’s cell phone started ringing and didn’t stop. Jamie whispered that her phone was ringing and it could be an emergency of some kind. Claire sat up and grabbed her phone, suddenly afraid that something bad had happened.

“Hello!”

“Claire darling you come home tomorrow right? Yes, well I am making sure because it’s Christmas and you have been gone.”

“Frank why are you calling me in the middle of the night you scared the shit out of me!”

“If I wasn’t so drunk I would think you were yelling at me. That’s ridiculous because I’m a fuckin Senator and you are a measly teacher. Now listen Claire, this is your last trip to wherever, from now on you are here or at the school. Got that?”

Frank was so drunk she could hardly understand him, and she was getting mad. “Now tell me how to unlock your computer.”

“Why are you in my house, Frank?”

“Why not.”

She heard a loud bang, the sound of glass breaking, and Frank in the background yelling profanities.

“You fucking computer!”

Claire clicked off and ran to her laptop to look up the police precinct closest to her. She gave a report that her ex-boyfriend broke into her apartment and was destroying everything. She explained she was in Paris and told them his name.

“His name is Frank Randall.”

“Is it spelled like the Senator Frank Randall?”

“It is Senator Frank Randall.”

The cop who was taking the report smiled to himself. Senator Randall had voted to defund the Chicago police and they hated him for being a ball-less politician parrot. He wouldn’t enjoy his time with them tonight.

Claire was fuming and slipped her nightgown over her head, filling a glass with bottled water.

“What can I do to help Claire?”

“Nothing Jamie, I’m fine, I’m just going to wait for the police to call. Go back to sleep.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, honestly, it’s taken care of. A rather unpleasant episode with my soon to be ex.”

Jamie could not believe she was shutting him out of this incident with Frank like he didn’t matter and had no business in her real world. He was being respectful when he didn’t ask her about after they leave Paris or maybe he just didn’t want to know.

“Claire, were you going to call me when you go back to Chicago?”

“What?”

He could see it in her eyes, confusion about a question that seemed so simple to him. She never planned to see him again, or even call. He was nothing to her. He dressed quickly and left her room. He couldn’t think of anything to say to her so he said nothing. He went to his room and changed into jeans for a long walk through the city while he worked this out in his head.

Claire couldn’t stop crying as she watched him out her window. He walked away hunched into his coat against the cold. She sobbed, realizing she had lost herself in the arms and charm of Jamie Fraser. She never told him she would call, she never said she had feelings for him. She would never forget his face as he figured out what this week was to her. She laid on his pillow with his wonderful smell and cried herself to sleep.

In the morning, Claire called Jamie’s room, and looked for him in the dining room and gym. She asked at the front desk and was told he checked out. It felt like an emotional bomb going off inside her and she struggled to get to her room before falling apart. She looked at his name in her contacts and wrote him a text about how sorry she was, then deleted it. She was dreadfully sorry she hurt him but knew all along they would go separate ways. She didn’t think it would feel so bad.

Claire boarded her plane with puffy red eyes and a pounding headache. About every ten minutes she felt the tears start again and finally ordered whisky so she could sleep. Her life stretched out before her and never seemed so bleak. Jamie Fraser showed her a fresh new day where anything was possible, and he held her like a precious treasure. Now she was going back to her life in a dirty, crime-ridden city, with a drunk Frank telling her what to do, and she could not find a ray of light in all that. She raised her hand for another whisky.

Claire walked toward the baggage claim and could hardly put one foot in front of the other. Geillis hugged her gushing questions about Paris and going on about her new man. The doorman at her building helped carry her suitcases to the elevator asking if she needed help to her apartment. She tipped him and said she would be fine. Her key slid into her door lock and she bent to take the first case inside. A large fist came out of nowhere and cold-cocked her. The assailant left her on the floor with her door open and suitcases in the hall. She was unconscious.

Jamie walked through Paris for hours, but the decorations and lights were not noticed this time. His brain crunched the facts that were heartily ignored for the last four days realizing he believed what he wanted. She was an enigma with an enchanting personality that drew him to her, she was mysterious because she shared little about who she was inside. He didn’t believe she wanted to hurt him, but it hurt nonetheless.

Jamie flew back to Scotland pounding whisky and sleeping to avoid thinking about the Sassenach. He retrieved his car and drove the country roads to Lallybroch, feeling better with each passing minute. He would hurt and miss her, but he truly hoped to forget her in time.

Claire’s face was swelling badly when the paramedics arrived, she was asking for Jamie, completely disoriented. When she saw only strangers around her, she started to cry like her soul was dying. The EMT’s brought her suitcases into the apartment and tested her for a concussion, asking her to come to the hospital but she refused. When they left, she turned in a circle and saw destruction everywhere. The glass-top computer desk was shattered on the floor, cables yanked out, monitor smashed, furniture was in pieces, and the kitchen floor was inches deep with shattered glass, crystal, and dishes.

Two officers were lifting prints in the bedroom and walked out to see a young woman looking as shattered as the apartment. They knew this was done by someone she knew, this was personal and laced with violent hatred. Both were afraid for her and asked where they could take her for the night.

Claire looked up at the officers taking a moment to understand the question. She shook her head and opened the door for them. Other than have a cruiser drive by her building during the night, there was little they could do without her cooperation. They left reluctantly, both fearing he would come again, this time for her life.

Claire recognized she was in shock. All she could see was Jamie’s face, at dinner when he smiled at her, sleepy and hugging her, laughing at her banter, and crumbling from the truth. If there was whisky and a remaining chair she would have stayed right there, but there wasn’t. She took her suitcase and left to stay in a hotel where she sat in the darkness staring at nothing until Paris woke up.

Javier listened to his goddaughter cry and explain being knocked out and the destruction of everything she owned, even her clothes had a knife taken to them. Javier took the call in his office and accepted a glass of water and a baby aspirin from Joseph who recognized a dangerous tone of voice in his employer, and lifelong friend. Joseph closed his door so Javier would not be disturbed and took a position nearby to stop anyone from knocking. Javier called his name, and Joseph, not liking where the dominoes were falling, prepared for the worst.

“The bear is in trouble, he’s going to kill her!” Javier ranted the story out as Joseph felt the magma rising in his soul. They knew she might go to jail someday until they could get her out, but being struck and terrorized by that perverted piece of shit had Joseph on the edge of reason. Javier was packing up his briefcase and told Joseph to get packed, they were going to Chicago.

Claire clicked off her phone and sat still. She had not stood up since coming to this room in the middle of the night. She dialed Frank.

“Hello darling, Merry Christmas! What time will you be ready for dinner?”

“Come anytime, Frank.” She disconnected.

She had not intended to confront him, but he would have to start pretending, shock, concern, anger, protectiveness, all the emotions a real fiancé would have when he stumbles into her wrecked apartment. She expected her phone to start ringing in about twenty minutes.

“Hello Frank, did you get a good look at the mess you made last night. Shut your mouth or I will..” He kept sputtering a string of words and talking louder. She clicked off and waited. This happened three more times before he remained quiet on the phone so she could talk.

“If you want to stay alive to pursue whatever it is you’re pursuing you only have one rule, never speak to me or see me again for as long as you live. Even if you see me by accident…bye-bye baby. I’m not the meek teacher you think I am, and you have fucked with the wrong person. Don’t believe me? Try it Frank, and I’ll be more than happy to order your life extinguished.”

Claire felt some weird kind of closure with that and stumbled to the bed where she passed out from exhaustion. She dreamed of Jamie whispering in her ear and felt the happiness bubble up inside her. The ringing of her cell phone pulled her out of sleep. She didn’t know where she was or how long she slept and Javier’s worried voice on the phone was asking where she was. Her face hurt so badly she couldn’t remember the name of the hotel until she looked at the branding all around her.

Javier almost fainted when he saw Claire’s face. He was no stranger to violence, but the Bear’s face was beyond recognition, black and swollen with one eye puffy and closed. He hugged her gingerly and walked her to the bed. Claire was telling him she was fine, but she was very much not fine. Joseph had turned away from her to hide his tears and get control of himself. Javier handed her a pill and a glass of water. Once she was asleep, Joseph stayed in the room and Javier went looking for a new residence for her. He was gone all day and she slept peacefully.

Joseph looked down at her, deep in sleep. He saw the fifteen-year-old, fresh from the jungle, quiet and self-protective, completely vulnerable. He remembered her locked in the bathroom for hours, showering, flushing the toilet, showering again. Her fingers were puckered for the first several weeks from so much washing. Joseph and Javier bent over backwards to make her welcome and finally, after two weeks, she smiled, and then laughed at something said and Joseph thought his heart would explode with happiness. They were devoted to her happiness, and when she grew up, she returned their kindness by becoming the most extraordinary woman. Now here she was, beaten and broken. He took a deep breath and went back to his seat to pull himself together.

Javier arranged for a medical doctor to examine Claire at the hotel because she refused to leave the room. He gave her antibiotics and pain medication and ordered rest for a week as the swelling came down in her face. He was happy to say her eye was not damaged, and her sight would clear up in time. Claire took the medicine as directed and slept like the dead. Javier would go out each day making arrangements for her apartment and filling it with furniture, dishes, crystal, flat wear, pots and pans, linens, towels, shower gels, shampoo, even some makeup. He had impeccable taste, but he was not a thirty-year-old female in Chicago, so he hired a decorator to make the selections. All of it was the best quality money could buy and Javier was in heaven to be spoiling his Bear.

Claire had put the brakes on Javier’s extravagance at age eighteen. She allowed him to finance school and a simple wardrobe and saved her money for anything else she wanted. Joseph would drive her to her job each afternoon at a nearby printer. She sat on plastic for the ride home because she was covered in ink smears and dirt from crawling into the machines. Javier would wince seeing her filthy and exhausted but could never convince her to quit.

Everything changed for Claire when she was hired by Christie’s auction house to be a runner during auctions. Every other day she assisted the appraiser, the decorator, or anyone else that needed help. She was exposed to the great artists of the Renaissance, Baroque, Rococo , Neoclassicism, and Romanticism periods and she was hooked. During dinner one evening, she laid out her plan; what schools she would attend, what graduate school she would choose for her PHD, and her choice of career, teaching fine art at a respected University. She apologized for not knowing which University yet and Joseph shot a few peas across the table before he could raise the napkin to his mouth. The original plan never wavered, she did exactly what she said she would do.

After two weeks of rest, Javier checked them all out of the hotel and brought Claire to her new home, a high security, luxury apartment overlooking Lake Michigan. It was extravagant and huge, filled with high-end furniture and decorations. Claire found beautiful crystal stemware, glasses, mugs, plates and everything in between. Her closet was filled with basic clothing, drawers filled with undergarments, sweaters, belts and socks. She pressed her fingers against her mouth and couldn’t stop the tears that were rolling down her cheeks. She hugged her godfather, and then Joseph, shaking with emotion, so grateful for all their help.

Claire utilized the gourmet kitchen to cook an American favorite for Javier and Joseph, filet mignon, lobster tail with butter for dipping, baked potato and herb-roasted carrots. Javier hovered in case she needed help and Joseph laughed and told him to sit down and enjoy the sun setting on the Chicago skyline. Javier planned to rave over this simple, no sauce meal until the beef melted in his mouth and the lobster exploded with flavor. He lost himself in the unusual and primitive meal and Claire mentally high-fived herself. The meal was symbolic. She was a grownup who could manage life on her own, thanks to their help.

Claire hugged them goodbye at the elevator and promised to visit at Christmas next year. When the elevator doors closed, she took her first steps in independence, free of Frank, free to pursue her career, free to choose her every next step. The only thing still missing was color. The apartment building was opulent and surely full of beautiful colors, but she only saw shades of gray in the objects she passed.

Geillis made arrangements for Claire’s senior graduate student to start her classes when the new semester started. The administration was told her face was heeling after a car accident and they were too happy to help. The first day she walked into her lecture hall there was only sympathy on the faces watching her. She was grateful and soon her love of teaching took over and life returned to normal, albeit colorless.

[justathoughtfulangel]

Time ~ A Draco Malfoy Oneshot

Hello! This is the first Draco Malfoy oneshot I’ve written in YEARS. I hope you enjoy reading it!

Summary: Draco left with his family during the war and you (his Ravenclaw girlfriend) haven’t seen him since. When he finds you again, he also finds a wonderful surprise.

Word count: 4,396 words

Warnings: Mention of death and implied smut

One year, seven months, and twelve days. It had been that long since Draco had seen the love of his life. He didn’t want to approach her until his name was cleared. He had subjected her to enough pain and suffering. For him, she’d take anything the world threw at them with a smile. She’d be there to wipe his tears, the tears he’d only let fall in her presence. She’d hold him through the nightmares, somehow saying exactly what he needed to hear. He had been wrong to avoid her, but he needed to for her safety. Until today. Today, he would find her again.

                                                 ~~~

Time had been cruel in its passing. Y/N stared out of her bedroom window, looking at the bright rising sun unflinchingly. A long time ago, the rising sun had symbolized hope for her. The thought of a wonderful new day kept her going. Now, she had something else in her life to do so. An owl flew to her window, which she opened quickly. It dropped the Daily Prophet to her bedside table and left urgently, having many more newspapers to deliver today. Y/N made her way to her angel’s bedroom and picked up her gurgling baby boy. It had been ten months since she found a renewed will to live. She now lived for her miracle of life, Scorpius Draco Malfoy. As she held her sleepy child to her chest, she felt revived. Every time she looked into Scorpius’s enchanting eyes, she found solace.

It was all too easy to imagine the same eyes looking at her, filled with pain and not this joy. Those eyes she hadn’t seen in one year, seven months, and twelve days. The day he walked away from her. She knew she couldn’t find it in herself to love another, but she had also begun to give up hope that Draco would return to her. Scorpius babbled for his mother’s attention and her face immediately lit up with a smile. “Yes, darling? Oh I know, you wanna have something nummy now, huh?” At his excited squeal, Y/N felt her heart melt and quickly got herself and her son ready. As he ate his breakfast (mashed bananas with peanut butter) and she ate hers, her eyes drifted over the Daily Prophet. One headline caught her attention, and she felt her heart stop for a few seconds.

On the front cover, Draco and his mother were shown leaving the Ministry of Magic. “Draco Malfoy & mother Narcissa Malfoy cleared of all charges. Lucius Malfoy given Dementor’s Kiss.” A similar headline had been published at the beginning of their 6th year… when Draco’s father had been sent to Azkaban. For the first time in such a long time, Y/N could remember Draco fondly, and a bright smile graced her face. She knew of his true innocence, and now the entirety of the Wizarding World would as well.

Scorpius was a rather intelligent child, and his mother’s smile made him coo happily. The sound once again broke Y/N from her thoughts and she cleaned him up, showering him in kisses. “How about we go out today, huh? Does that sound good angel?” Scorpius reached for his mamma who scooped him into her arms and got his bag ready. Stepping into their fireplace, Y/N brought her baby boy’s face into her chest, gently wrapping a shawl around them to avoid any soot entering his system. Her voice rang loud and clear as the Floo Powder fell from her fingers. “HOGSMEADE VILLAGE!”

                                                ~~~

Draco found himself in the Three Broomsticks alone. He had no idea where to begin looking for his Y/N. He knew she was alive and safe somewhere, as her name never appeared on the list of the deceased. Her father’s name had, however; Draco hated that he hadn’t been there to support her through that.

He had no idea what to say even if he happened to find her. He used to be able to spill his soul to her, and now he hadn’t even the semblance of a start. Without her, he was nothing. Seeing his reflection in her eyes made him believe he was real. It made him recognize his worth. She was his human Patronus; she fought away the darkness with just her presence.

What had time done to them? What had time done to her? Was she happy with someone else now? He wouldn’t blame her if she was. She deserved happiness. If he could, he’d give her every happiness ever destined for him and connect himself to her pains forever. A memory struck his mind suddenly. She had once said the same words to him…

He held her hand silently as she healed from a spell meant for him. Draco wanted to slice Potter apart just as his spell had sliced his girl. His heart broke when he thought he almost lost her. The task he had to do was never far from his mind, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave her. 

Hours passed, and Draco couldn’t sleep for the fear of someone pulling him away from Y/N. She needed him by her side. No. She didn’t need him. HE needed her. He’d always need her. She was strong enough to live a happy life without him. She would be safer without him, at least until Potter defeated the Dark Lord. What surprised him every moment was that she CHOSE him. She chose him every day. She loved him for who he was inside, not the monster he was forced to become. A silent tear rolled down Draco’s cheek. He was selfish for keeping her with him; she bravely ignored the danger he put her in.

As his tear fell onto Y/N’s hand, she stirred gently, groaning in pain. The sound put Draco on alert and he immediately brushed her hair away from her face soothingly. “You’re alright darling, you’re okay.” Her (Y/E/C) eyes opened, somehow still shining with love for him despite the pain she was in. “You’re okay…” She echoed Draco’s words, happy that he was unharmed and safe. Her voice was hoarse and quiet. After wiping his eyes quickly, Draco poured her water and got her to drink some, tenderly cradling her head in his arm.

“Y/N… why would you do that? What if I lost you?” She was silent for a minute, and Draco absorbed even those seconds in her presence. He’d never go far from her again, not if he could help it. She smiled as much as she could and reached to hold Draco’s face in her hands. Her words were so powerful; he nearly fell to his knees in front of her. “If I could, I’d give every happiness ever destined for me to you and connect myself to your pains forever. I love you Draco. I love you with everything I have.”

His heart was overwhelmed with emotion and some of it spilled from his eyes. He pressed his lips to hers softly, not wanting to cause her any more pain. “I love you so much. You’re the one who deserves no pain Y/N. I’m sorry…. I’m so sorry. I wish I-” Y/N gently put her hand on his lips, kissing his forehead lovingly. “Shh… none of this is your fault. Everything will be fine one day. We’ll be together. Nothing else will matter.”

Draco closed his eyes, fighting the tears welling in them. The love she had for him was all-consuming. The love he had for her could make it impossible for him to think of anything else. If he could see her here, he wouldn’t know how to make her believe that being hers forever was his deepest desire. He walked away with his family like a coward. The sparkling Y/E/C eyes that he adored were filled with pain the last time he saw them. He needed to find the one they belonged to again and fill them with happiness again. No matter how broken he was, he would do it. For her.

                                                ~~~

Y/N was seated in front of the fireplace in The Turning Page, a bookshop she began once she left Hogwarts. Unlike a few in her year, she had completed her education entirely. Within a year, Y/N managed to take a run-down, decrepit building in Hogsmeade and turn it into a booming business. Hogwarts students and other customers could find stationery, muggle novels, school books, and even a hot drink on their trips from the school. Her son was napping peacefully in the back of the store and she could hear when he woke up. 

The cappuccino she held warmed her hands as she took a slow sip. The flames from the crackling hearth in front of her soothed her, bringing her mind to a night she would never forget…

Y/N sighed as she allowed herself to relax in Draco’s arms. They knew the war was coming and it was coming soon. “When this is all over, I’m going to keep you with me forever.” Draco looked down at Y/N with pure determination in his eyes. He held her as if she was the most precious thing to him, which she was without a doubt. She smiled and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, which Draco responded to instantly.

Most of their kisses were soft and tender, but this was different. This kiss embodied every fear they had, every hesitation, every hope for the future, and every ounce of love they had for each other. Neither wanted to pull away. Neither wanted this night to be their last together, but what if it was? They never discussed the war harming either of them. The thought itself was too painful.

Draco gently straightened Y/N and pulled her to his lap, never breaking their kiss. It was quickly becoming fervent, eager, and something much more than one simple kiss. Y/N wrapped her legs around Draco, needing him to be much much closer to her. When they finally pulled away from each other, their labored breaths melded into one and their eyes looked deeply into the others.

For a few moments, they stayed this way. Draco’s face found itself nuzzling into Y/N’s neck and her fingers made their way to his soft, gorgeous locks, soothing both him and herself. “Y/N…” Draco looked at her with such intensity in his eyes that Y/N almost melted under his gaze. “Yes?” His hand came to rest on her cheek and she instinctively turned to kiss his palm as she always did. “I want to make love you right now. I want to feel you until I can’t tell where I start and where you begin.”

Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat. Draco knew that she had never been with anyone before and he had never ever pushed her. He wasn’t pushing her right now either. She knew that if she refused, he would go back to holding her with no complaints. He would wait forever for her. The difference was she no longer wanted to wait. If something happened to either of them and she wasn’t his in every way possible… the thought was unfathomable. “I’m ready.”

Draco froze for a second and pressed a hesitant kiss to her lips. “You’re sure? I didn’t mean to pressure you, sweetheart, I-” As she usually did, Y/N had to shush his apologetic rants. She kissed him softly, pouring everything she had into the kiss. “I’m sure. I love you.”

That night, two days before she last saw him, Y/N gave herself to the love of her life entirely. She was his in every way possible: heart, mind, and soul. It was absolutely perfect, and Y/N wouldn’t have changed the events of that night one bit. It was everything she had wanted it to be. It had brought her Scorpius into the world.

The chimes above the door clinked as Neville Longbottom made his way into the shop. He, along with Hermione Granger and Luna Lovegood, was one of The Turning Page’s most frequent customers. “Hi there Professor. What can I get for you today?” Y/N smiled brightly at him, already going to grab the books he had previously requested. Y/N’s other employees managed the shop extremely well for her, giving her time to devote to her baby boy. When she was here, she enjoyed interacting with customers and doing all that she could.

“Hey Y/N, I just came to pick up the books I re-” When Neville noticed that she was already calculating the total for him, he chuckled and grabbed his money. “No wonder your bookshop does so well. The owner is wonderful in keeping everything running smoothly. How’s Scorpius doing?” Y/N smiled kindly and shook her head. “Not at all, I’m simply doing my job, Neville. Your total will be 3 galleons, 7 sickles, and 2 knuts. Scorpius is doing well, thanks for asking. I’d bring you to see him, but he’s napping right now.” If anyone asked about Scorpius, Y/N instantly went into proud mamma mode. She could talk about her darling boy for hours.

“Oh! It’s not on your list, but you may want to look at the new 11th edition of Winogrand’s Wondrous Water Plants. I just got the shipment this morning.” Neville was pleased with how well she knew him and his likes and dislikes. Y/N was an excellent friend and a wonderful mother to Scorpius. At first, he had no clue who Scorpius’s father was, but his Luna was quick to recognize his eyes. He hadn’t seen the bloke in years, but Draco Malfoy was front-page news today, and it must have affected Y/N. It had, evidently so. For the first time since their school days, Y/N’s smile was bright and exuding the warmth within her. He respected her enough to know that if she loved Malfoy, he had to have some good in him. 

“That’ll be all for today Y/N, I bought the 10th edition just a few weeks ago. Thank you very much!” Y/N packed up Neville’s purchase for him and sent him off with a wave. “Come back soon!” Neville was about to leave before he stopped at the door. “Hey Y/N! A few of us are meeting up at the Three Broomsticks soon. Do you want to join us? It’ll be me, Luna, Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione.” Y/N pondered over that group and hummed thoughtfully. It would be great to see them all again, but she also didn’t have a great interest in being with three couples. It would make her miss Draco too much. “Thank you for inviting me Neville, but I’ve got to stay with Scorpius tonight. Perhaps another time?” Neville realized what he had suggested as well and smiled understandingly. “Absolutely, another time. See you Y/N!”

                                               ~~~

A few tables to the right of him, many familiar faces were dining together. Draco recognized them all. They all looked happy, and Draco felt no malice towards them. Time had healed the bitterness in him. All he wanted was that joy with the love of his life. He had been sitting here for a few hours now, going through old copies of the Daily Prophet to find any mention of Y/N. Thankfully, he didn’t have to look much further.

Neville Longbottom took a sip of his butterbeer, his wedding band gleaming clearly on his left ring finger. His eyes glanced around the lively place, spotting a familiar head of platinum blonde hair. Draco Malfoy was a few feet from them, fawning over a hundred different publications of the Daily Prophet. Neville smiled as an idea popped into his head. He would do something kind for his friend after all she had done for him. The conversation at the table had veered to their old classmates, and Neville thought it was a perfect time to bring her up, speaking much louder than necessary. “Y/N’s bookshop is spectacular, isn’t it?”

As soon as he heard Y/N's name, Draco immediately straightened up. Rather obviously, his entire body turned in the direction of his old schoolmates, wanting to hear anything and everything he could about the woman he was searching for. Y/N had a bookshop?

Potter draped his arm around his fiancee’s shoulder, nodding in agreement. “Oh, a Ravenclaw opening a bookshop. How unique!” Ron Weasley grunted; he didn’t understand Y/N well, his hatred for Malfoy running too deep. Hermione instantly chastised her husband, causing a gentle scowl to form on his face. “Be polite Ronald. What Y/N has done in this past year and a half is immensely admirable. To open a successful bookshop in Hogsmeade while going through pregnancy on her own and raising an infant is miraculous.”

Draco felt his heart thud wildly in his chest. She was here. She was a mere walk away from him. Most of that conversation didn’t even register in his mind. In his hurry, Draco left an extra nine sickles at the table and rushed out the door. Luna Longbottom tapped her husband’s shoulder and pointed, smiling as she saw Draco Malfoy sprint out of the door. Neville kissed his wife’s head, hoping for Y/N’s happiness.

Draco ran through the streets of Hogsmeade, his feet pounding against the cobblestone pathways much like the blood coursing through his veins. He didn’t know whether to turn left or right. He just knew that he wasn’t about to stop. His eyes glazed over the numerous storefronts that he’d seen before, desperately searching for one he didn’t recognize.

His feet came to a halt seemingly of their own accord. Struggling to catch his breath, Draco looks up to see a store he was sure he hadn’t seen before, The Turning Page. His eyes looked into the window and found himself looking into eyes that were identical to his own. “To open a successful bookshop in Hogsmeade while going through pregnancy on her own and raising an infant is miraculous.”

There are no words for what Draco felt in that moment. It was like he was suddenly surrounded by sunlight. Warmth emanated from every fiber of his being. That was his child. The baby cooed and reached his arms out as if he recognized who Draco was. Then, the child’s mother looked out of the window, successfully stopping Draco’s heart.

                                              ~~~

Y/N held Scorpius close to her, walking around her bookshop. Scorpius has been a charmer since day one, but he would never leave his mother’s arms for more than a few minutes. Customers fawned over him and positively adored him. While Y/N chatted with Dennis Creevey about what book would help him prepare for his Potions O.W.L exam, Scorpius reached towards the window, gurgling happily. Y/N’s attention shifted from the young Creevey boy to the window, wondering what enthralled her son.

When her eyes fell on Draco, she didn’t know what to do. What was she supposed to say? What was she supposed to do? Would he hate her because she hid the news of their child from her? Had he found someone else after all this time? Not knowing if it was the best thing to do, she gestured for Draco to come inside. 

Draco ran through Hogsmeade to find Y/N, but somehow he faced a battle to go up the steps and into the quaint bookshop. It was everything he had been waiting for such a long time. One more look at his child took his hesitation away. Draco entered the shop, admiring the smell of coffee and cinnamon. He followed Y/N to the back of the store, falling in love with the baby boy who was admiring him with big, shining eyes. 

Scorpius looked over his mother’s shoulder at the man who was following them. His mother had raised him with absolute adoration and was an excellent mamma, but he had never grown up with a male figure in his life. Draco made a silly face at his child, causing him to giggle. Y/N smiled, her heart feeling light. Her baby’s happiness made her happy, and she had a feeling that everything would be alright very soon. Once they reached the room with Scorpius’s makeshift crib and toys, she set him down, handing him the Ravenclaw eagle rattle he adored. Scorpius immediately became enchanted by it and happily occupied himself with it, leaving his parents to speak.

Neither Draco nor Y/N knew what to say. “I am so sor-” “I’m sorr-” Both looked confused, not entirely understanding why the other was apologizing. “Why are you apo-” “I should be the one to-” Y/N let out a small laugh, which Scorpius echoed as he played. Draco looked to the baby boy and back to the love of his life, unable to fight the beaming smile encroaching on his lips. From the first second he saw him, Draco was mesmerized by his child. 

Y/N teared up slightly as she watched the father of her son gaze upon him. She had thought of this moment many times, imagining the various ways Draco could react. In any of the scenarios she imagined, her mind had not been able to picture the level of absolute veneration he had for their child. She picked Scorpius up once more who immediately held his rattle out to Draco as if sharing with him. 

Y/N wiped her tears which caught Scorpius’s attention and he let out a scared whimper, not wanting to see his mamma upset. “Ma ma ma ma!” If it were at all possible, Draco would have disintegrated into a puddle. Everyone could say a baby was adorable, but this… Draco was filled with an impossibly vast love for the child. Nothing could come close to describing it.

Scorpius offered the rattle to his mother instead, wanting to cheer her up. She took it and kissed both of Scorpius’s cheeks, beaming warmly for him. “Would you like to hold him? He’s your son, Draco.” Draco did not doubt that yet hearing the world's spoken aloud had a different impact. He reached to hold Scorpius who happily came into his father’s arms for the first time. Draco was genuinely afraid of moving too fast or holding this angel in his arms too tightly. He was so precious… So fragile. Draco knew that if it were up to him, no harm would ever come to his baby. He would be loved, happy, and protected forever. 

As Draco pressed a soft kiss to Scorpius’s head for the first time, both he and Y/N had silent tears streaming down their faces. By this point, Scorpius would reach for his mamma again, but he was peacefully drifting off to sleep in his father’s arms. Draco looked at Y/N. He was madly in love with her before, but now…He had always known she was strong. She could have conquered the world. Draco couldn't say how much he revered Y/N. “Come. We have much to talk about.” Y/N gathered their things, holding Draco’s hand as she led him to the fireplace that would take them home. Making sure to cover Scorpius’s face before sternly but softly shouting, “L/N Mansion!”

Y/N led Draco to Scorpius’s room, showing him how to lay him down gently. Both of them pressed a kiss to his head as he slept peacefully and silently exited the bedroom. Y/N immediately began preparing tea for the both of them, still knowing exactly how Draco preferred his: black tea steeped for three minutes with a lemon slice. 

She knew him like the back of her hand. As she handed him the mug of tea, she took a deep breath and sat down, hiding her face in her shaking hands. “Dray, I’m so sorry. I didn't tell you about Scorpius. I really should have. You had a right to know and I-” Draco found himself kneeling in front of her and pressing his finger to her lips, just as she used to do to him.

“Sweetheart, you have nothing to apologize for. I’m sorry for leaving. It was cowardly of me. I can’t believe you raised our baby and started a business on your own. I knew you had it in you. You were always destined for greatness. You know how hard it is to impress me, and yet you did.” Draco cracked a joke as he set the mug of tea down, earning a small smile from Y/N. It was the smile he lived for, after all. “I didn't want to find you earlier because… I was done with you being tainted by being acquainted with me.” Y/N’s eyes gleam with a wave of soft anger and disapproval, but he continued anyway. “I vowed to found you when my name had been cleared. I always meant to. I’m nothing without you.” 

Draco’s hands came to cup Y/N’s gorgeous face and she kisses his palm, still a reflex of hers after all this time. “All I ask, my love, is for a little space in your heart and life again. I would do anything to make you believe that’s all I need. Being with you and Scorpius is all I desire.” Y/N feigned a serious expression, looking at Draco with sorrow. “I’m sorry Draco, I can’t give you that.” Before he could move away from her, Y/N gently pulled his lips to hers and kissed him deeply. She felt Draco against her lips and she beamed back brightly. “How could I give you a little space in my heart when you took all of it long ago and never left?” Draco laughed for the first time in months, finally at peace with the love of his life. 

Time had been benevolent. It taught them what they needed to learn. They had both grown to become the people they were always meant to be. Time would send more trials their way, as it did throughout life. They would get through them together, never wavering again. They had spent one year, seven months, and twelve days apart from each other; Time would never separate them again.

The End!

I hope you enjoyed it! I’d love to hear your feedback and comments as well; please don’t hesitate to message me! 

[i-write-sometimes-blog]

Cold Eyes (Dark Rey x Reader) [Part 14]

Summary: You confront Rey after the meeting ending in her arms again but wake up to some bad news and a prisoner.

Words: 2,778

A/N: Things go south from here because we're reaching the end of the series, just a few chapters left. Hope you like it!!

Time seemed to pass slowly while you waited for Rey in her chambers, with nothing more to look at than the big window you stared at the shining stars that adorned the vast and black sky, for a moment you feared that much darkness could even exist, the more you glanced at it the more you felt like if you were drowning.

Drowning on your thoughts and doubts. Thinking about the First Order’s breakthrough over the galaxy, the memory of the holograms fresh in your mind and how many sistem they had already taken, not to mention the cannons in the planets. Hux's words were also stuck in your head, he made sure of that.

Thinking about the brief talk with Finn and your friends in the Resistance, how many of them would be there? not much surely but you hoped they were staying safe, praying the First Order wouldn’t find them.

Thinking about Rey.

About her actions in the past and present, the atrocities she had done and she was still doing, killing people somewhere in the galaxy so she could rule upon them. About the truly monster she had become.

You didn’t realized she was back until you heard her voice calling your name and felt her hand laying on your shoulder.

“How was the meeting?” she asked with a bit of a smile on her face that faded away as soon as you spoke.

“Did you know about the cannons?” you murmured, your gaze focused on the sky.

“Yes”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I knew it was going to push you further away from me” she sighed “It was the very last thing I wanted, Y/N” you kept silent “It was Hux’s idea. After Endor he thought it would be helpful to have more options…” Rey explained.

“In case something happen to the fleet, I heard that” you interrupted her finally turning to gaze into her confused eyes.”What I don’t understand is why?” you begged for answers “Why?”

“Control” she said serious “A guarantee they will do as we say and they won’t dare to rebel.”

“And what if they do? You’re gonna just blow the whole planet, Rey?” you huffed.

“No.” she said “No, I can’t do that. Not again, not after what I did to our planets” she told you and you saw her eyes filling with worry, with pain, with regret. “That’s something I just can’t do anymore.”

You watched every detail of her face for a moment. This wasn't her plan, the whole cannon thing was Hux's idea. Her words calming you down a little bit but her eyes, soft and sincere let you trust in her again.

Nodding you murmured a little "Okay"

"Is there something else, Y/N?" She asked concerned. "I sense you a bit tense" There was a lot going on inside your head but it wasn't something you could discuss with her, you trusted her more than before but still not enough.

"No, just that." You told her. "I didn't expect something like that and taking your place on the meeting today was a lot, I don't know how you do it" you said finally in a more relaxed tone, even smiling a little.

"Yeah, it can be too much sometimes" she added with a smile and you shared a small laugh with her, but as much as you tried the images of the holograms kept coming back to your mind, the whole day had been a lot to take, you just wanted to take all of those thoughts out of your head somehow.

"Y/N" she murmured getting back your attention "Are you okay?"

"Yeah" you told her "I just, can't stop thinking. Wish there was a way to just shut my mind " you confessed chuckling.

"Well, I can help you with that" she told you with an irresistible smirk before she leaned to capture your lips, you melted under her touch when she wrapped her arms around you. The effect she had on you was bigger than you would like to admit but feeling her close to you pulled you into a state of calm, so you allowed her to work her magic on you.

It didn’t take long for you to find yourself lost in a trance lying beneath her on the soft mattress, panting and softly moaning as her gentle hands roamed over your body, discovering and memorizing every single spot that made you shiver in pleasure. Felt good to feel her again, her warmth, her touch, the feeling of her lips pressing against your skin.

The world seemed to vanish with every stroke and every caress, every passionate kiss and hungry gaze, the way her fingers always found the right way to your most delicate spots sending new weaves of pure pleasure taking you closer and closer to your high until the only thing you could think of was her and nothing more than her.

Later that night you cuddled up to her, watching the way her chest slowly rose and fell calmly on her sleep, you observed her relaxed face inches away from yours, she looked younger when she was like this even a bit defenseless, not the cold blooded woman everyone thought she was, but the girl from Jakku who waited endless years for her family.

You sensed peace coming from her as she was lost in her dreams, you sensed calm and light. For all the stars, you sensed light in her, you felt the light side of the Force trying to bring her back, fighting against the shadows a bright light shined inside her. You smiled for a moment thinking of what a life could be with Rey, imagined a house in a place surrounded with flowers for her to smell, a quiet place to meditate together and more nights like this. You pictured her enjoying the wind on her hair loose over her shoulders, smiling when she noticed your eyes on her. You hoped someday, after all this war, all this fight this dream could come true but for now you let yourself fall into a deep sleep with the image of what she could be on your mind.

******

The bed was cold when still sleepy you searched for Rey beside you, her comforting warmth was gone and instead you found yourself alone in the big bed. It was early, earlier than usual, even for a training day but Rey were nowhere to be seen. “Another mission” you thought as you tried your best to wake completely up, it was not a strange thing Rey tended to travel a lot to conquer new planets, sometimes she would be gone for weeks but she usually said something, anything.

Reluctantly you left the comfort of your bed and searched for some new clean clothes, dark clothes always matching the side of the force of your master.

You thought for a moment on Finn, was he going to communicate with you today too?.

The hatch of your room opened with ease and a tall man appeared in the doorway. You recognized his posture the second you saw it, his suspicious stare and overconfident grin.

“Supreme Leader requires your presence in the containment area.” General Hux said indifferent. The cells? Why did she want you on the cells?

“Fine, I’ll be there in a few minutes.” you answered with the same cold tone in your voice, it didn’t please you to having him anywhere near you, you didn’t trust him before, you didn’t like him and now after all he said to you you liked him much less.

“Now.” he said with the same tone he used to give orders to his troopers. “She requires you now.”

You stared angrily at him for a moment before following him outside your quarters, you could see he enjoyed giving you orders as there was a very tiny but satisfied grin on his face the whole time you walked slightly behind him in silence.

Ignoring his presence you thought about why the cells and thought the worst, maybe she found out about your talk with Finn, you feared she would have figured it out.

You were a bit glad when you arrived to her side, smiled with the sight of you and even briefly kissed. You felt relieved though the feeling didn’t last enough.

There was a open cell and inside it man on his knees, hands tied on his back observing every move you made.

“Brandon?” you said surprised as a cold shiver ran down your spine.

“So that’s his name” Rey said “I don’t think i ever got to meet him in my time with the Resistance” she smirked.

“What- how?” you mumbled.

“There was a battle last night” Rey rushed to answer “Most of them escaped but my troops captured him and brought him to me.” She said “Of course, I was… busy last night, so he had to wait until now” she spoke in a seductive way as she eyed you from head to toe making sure her guest heard and noticed every remark she made towards you.

But you were frozen next to her, your eyes focused on this man kneeling in front of you. He glanced at you with a stranger grin between angry and satisfied. This man, the one that made you leave the Resistance, the reason you were captured, a mean mouthy pilot that hated you, why did it had to be him?

“What you need of me, Rey?” you murmured finally looking at her.

“I’ve been trying to get information out of him, but he’s not easy to break” Rey said “Perhaps he would speak with a friend.”

“We’re not friends” you told her gazing at him. You weighed your options for a moment, she needed information and so you did if you wanted to help your real friends. If you found that information before her maybe you could do something but if she did… well, then it was the end of the Resistance.

"I'll try" you said serious "Give me a few minutes alone with him" you talked serious, confident of your words.

"Alone?" She said giving you an untrusting look "Are you sure?"

"I am" you told her before capturing her lips for a moment. She had a big smile when you pulled away, she trusted you, you felt it.

"Fine" she said "you have ten minutes" with a last gaze at the prisoner she walked down the hall, her black robes weaving behind her like a shadow as she got lost in the distance of the endless hallway.

You stepped inside the cell and closed the door. He kept silence the whole time just looking at you.

"Look, I know you hate me but we need to help each other right now" you told him "Just tell me something, whatever", you said.

Silence.

"She's gonna kill you if you're not useful" you warned him but still he didn't say a word which made your blood started boiling with anger. "Please, anything just talk to me okay? I'm trying to help" you said "Are you even listening?"

Then you finally heard his voice as he let go a sarcastic laugh that made you close your fist.

"I knew you were with her, I knew you were on her side" he said "I told them but nobody believe me" he chuckled he said before laughing again. "I wish Dameron could see you now or Finn always defending you. I wish they could see who you truly are, Y/N." He mocked "what would they said if they knew you were sleeping with her".

"That's none of your business" you said serious and tried to control yourself. "We're running out of time, Brandon. How are they?"

"Barely holding on thanks to your wicked girlfriend" he said "She just won't stop attacking us, many have died and where were you? Oh yes, probably fucking with her" he huffed.

"Where are they?" You said, you knew he was just teasing you that was just the way he was but still his words were somehow truth and every one of them hurted you.

"And you think I'm going to tell you?" He said “No, you’re just a traitor, did you really changed the rebellion for her? Just so you could get laid?”

“Enough!” you snapped tired of hearing his bullshit. “We're on the same side" you told him, exasperation rumbling in your voice "I don't hope you understand it but I want to save them, all of them in the Resistance and around the galaxy. You haven't seen the things I have and trust me there are more important things to worry about than who I sleep with, So please," you said moving closer to him until you were inches away from him in a threatening tone "tell me where are they."

He looked at you surprised as if he would never expect you to stand against him, there was also fear on his eyes. The cell’s door opened casting the shadow of the intruder over the small cell.

“Did he tell you something?” Rey asked.

“Nothing useful” you said “He’s a complete jerk, everything that comes out of his mouth his bullshit” you said serious yet furious already walking towards the exit of the small room. You felt useless again, he had the ability to annoy you incredibly fast, it was a combination of his sarcastic sentences, the way he knew where to hurt you with his words and that stupid smirk on his face.

His deep laugh rumbled across the room.

"Oh, poor General Organa she's gonna really be hurt when she finds out you're just another disappointment" he said smiling as more and more anger spreaded across your body. Those last words were enough to make you lose it.

Turning around you extended your arm using the Force to lift him off the ground.

“Shut up! I’ve had enough of you” you hissed “You treated me like garbage, you turned the whole Resistance against me forcing me to leave” as you spoke you felt the anger guiding your actions, slowly closing your hand causing him shortness of breath.

Rey smiled satisfied next you, she sensed your anger, your frustration and for the first time you were listening to her lessons: let your emotions guide you.

“Not only that, Y/N” Rey leaned to whisper close to your ear “He sold you to me”

“What the hell did you do?” you murmured “Explain yourself!” you demanded letting go just a bit of the pressure on his neck.

“I contacted her and gave her your coordinates after you left!” he bursted gasping for air. When you thought this man couldn’t be more hideous he came with this making you close your hand a bit more out of pain and anger.

“Kill him” Rey whispered on your ear as she rested her hands softly on your shoulders, encouraging you “You know he deserves to die, you want to kill him I feel it.”

Listening to her words you put more pressure around his neck slowly choking him with the Force. You felt the Force in you, darker than ever but stronger than you had ever felt before. It made you feel powerful, it felt good to have control over this twopenny man. Just a small move with your hand and he would be gone.

“Kill him, Y/N.” Rey whispered.

Brandon gasped for air and taking as much as he could he looked at you.

“You’re a monster” he barely managed to said “Just like her.”

A shiver ran down your spine as your hand opened and released him from your grip dropping to the ground with a loud thud. He gasped and coughed desperately.

“Oh, Y/N you were so close to know your truly potential” Rey said disappointed rising her own hand to end your job and in a few seconds Brandon’s lifeless body laid on the cold ground of the small cell.

Rey walked outside while you contemplated the body on the floor just moments ago you were going to kill, without a doubt, without flinching. It was wrong. The dark side of the Force was still telling you to do it. How could you let it happen?.

“Ready my ship” Rey ordered to a stormtrooper in the hallway. Confused you hurried to reach Rey.

“Where are you going?” you said walking by her side.

“The guy knew where’s the new Resistance’s base” she told you “I searched his mind while you were choking him, thanks by the way” she said “It’s time I put an end to the rebellion.”

Tagging: @cpt-bolter , @elvencantation , @jay-birf03 , @x-a-gay-disaster-x , @ridleysjazz , @hstoria , @iamafangirl-fightme , @leilei-draws , @hayley-the-comet , @snoot-snoot-toot , @1-800-depressedlesbian , @empresspalpatinee , @xgaygremlinx , @the-great-imagines-of-1812

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[miss-choco-chips]

Soul Shards: what if...

...Tim gets a snarky sidekick who strong arms him into being a better person; it takes a little longer than if Damian did it, but Thea has her own way of doing things, and hers don’t involve trickery.

Or; The tale of soulless Tim and the little girl

(Alternative ending to the soul shards au, for those who don’t like the damitim... or the angst; that’s why Tim gets older here)

(Tim might be ooc, because he’s Soulless!Tim. Chaotic neutral at best. Be aware of that before reading)

Having no soul was great. Really, he should have gotten rid of that useless  thing years ago. Why did it take him so long? The freedom, both to go wherever he wanted and to operate as he wished without those pesky morals weightening him down. It was like being a swimmer for years wearing a lead vest, and then getting rid of it. The speed? The newfound flexibility? The ability to swim just a little lower than he ever dared and explore new depths of himself, sure in the knowledge that nothing could drag him completely under water, even if the price was that he wouldn't be going back to shore ever again?

It was a cheap price, for such a wonderful treasure. 

If only his body wasn’t so fucking annoying.

The little girl in front of him had been crying for like half an hour, no signs of stopping. And Fucking Batman had conditioned him to the point where he was physically unable to leave a distressed child behind.

-Please, sir, don’t leave me alone! 

Fucking hell- The police will be here soon, they’ll take care of everything.

The crying intensified.

Damn.

-What if I walk you all the way to the station? 

More crying.

-Your parents? You have those, right? I could take you home, just give me five minutes to figure out where do you live…

Shit, was that snot? His hand twitches and then thrusts forward, impulsively using the sleeve to clean her face. Disgusting.

-What do you want from me? -he ends up asking, close to feeling as distressed as she was out of sheer exasperation.

That seemed to put a halt to the water fest.

-I d-on’t have a family -her pouting mouth trembled, and instinct drove his arm around her shoulders, desperately trying to prevent her from crying again; he was aware his stupid, overly conditioned body wouldn't allow him to walk away from this child if she continued like this- Don’t want to go to orphanage or streets! -she wailed again at the end of the sentence, speech notably deteriorating in her anguish.

Was there a way to tell her ‘I don’t care’ without making her even sadder? Before someone came along and found him?

Tim could hear the police sirens coming closer, attracted to their location by the high wall of flames eating up at the warehouse. He had spent a good chunk of the night dismantling this human trafficking ring, deeply rooted in Greece but with smaller bases all over Europe, taking care to evac both the unconscious thugs and the victims before blowing it all to hell. It was hard as fuck, specially considering he couldn’t let anyone get a good look at his face, least they gave the authorities a good enough description of him to warrant the Bat’s attention.

This little girl was not only making him lose time, she was also threatening the secret of his existence both by keeping him on a spot where he could be easily seen, and by making him stay still long enough to see his face perfectly. Sure, such a small kid wouldn't be able to give a very good description, but any risk, small as it was, was more than he wanted to deal with. 

Fuck it all to hell. He was tired. Figuring it all in the morning made perfect sense.

-If I take you with me, will you stop crying?

A hiccup and a nod was all he needed to take the girl in his arms and disappear into the night.

----.----

-What about a church? Children think churches are safe places, right? -he asks her over breakfast a few hours later. He was also sure there were thousands of those in Italy, which was his next destination, so he could very well drop her there.

The little girl looked up at him from under her lashes, light green eyes squinting in distaste and a little sadness she was forcing herself to hide- I don’t like churches. Mama… -she swallowed hard, which Tim feared would bring tears later on- mama used to say people trust churches too much, without… uhm, ‘reasons’, she said. And that I shouldn't trust anyone I haven’t met.

Grateful she was doing an effort not to cry, he didn’t push. The last thing he needed was the eight year old remembering her late mother and crying again.

Mathea, eight years old. Kidnapped from the city of Seres in Greece, where her mother had moved them both a month ago with hopes for a better life after leaving her abusive marriage behind. No other relatives, and he couldn't drop the child with a violent father. No doubt some internalized trauma after seeing her mother being murdered trying to keep her from being kidnapped, and the subsequently time in capture, waiting with other children at the warehouse for their fates to arrive. Except it had been derailed by Tim’s intervention.

He never regretted his body’s dependence on doing good like now. He couldn't leave the girl just anywhere unless she agreed, which didn’t seem to be an option right now.

-What I do is dangerous -he told her, one last attempt at scaring her- I hurt people that hurt others. I travel a lot. You’d be better off at an orphanage or something, living with other children and going to class.

She looked at him with far too intelligent eyes- You could teach me. ‘seem more smart than any teacher.

-Smarter -he corrected, hating that he was proving her point- I’m not a good teacher. I don’t have patience for it.

-I don’t think there’s a’ything you’re bad at. And we can learn together.

-I don’t have a soul -he finally threw, almost desperate to scare he away.

She just shrugged- The men who took me an’ hurt mama had one, and they were monsters. I don’t care bout it.

He sighs. His body isn’t rebelling at the idea, and she seems determined. Whatever. He doesn’t care enough to look for the best option for her. She wants to follow him, okay, let her. She’ll give up and ask to leave soon enough.

-.-.-.-.-.-.

-I want a computer -demands Mathea one morning, months into her forceful addition to Tim’s party of one. They are currently in Milan, where he’s taking care of a wayward assassin and she’s using the hotel’s amazing wifi to complete her online class- for my birthday. It’s next week, you know. I’m turning nine.

-I’ll make sure to send you a postal -he replies, hand thrown over his eyes in a futile attempt to sleep. Her nagging grows less adorable and more annoying the older she gets- I’m going to be in Moscu next week. Human experiments I need to stop.

Little less than a year ago, she would have gasped, maybe even cried at the idea. Nowadays, child trafficking seemed the only thing to faze her.

-I’m going to cry.

-It won’t be effective so far away.

She harrumphs. Like a mule, which is how stubborn she could be.

-Yeah, whatever. If you miss my birthday, I’ll be very sad, and make you feel guilty as hell.

-I don’t feel anything.

-Maybe you don’t, but your body will give you hell for me. How does an entire night holding my hand and spoiling me sounds, huh? Cause we both know that’s what is going to happen if you do it.

-Why didn’t I just leave you in the warehouse -he whines, tired. A few hours of sleep, that’s all he’s asking.

A few moments of silence follow his statement, which is suspicious enough for him to remove his arm and open his eyes. She’s never that quiet, unless she’s planning something or…

Yeah, those are tears in her eyes. Fuck.

-You… do you mean it?

A sigh.

-Come here, brat. Of course I didn’t. We both know I can’t do something like that.

She goes willingly, slipping into the mattress by his side and resting her head on his shoulder, cuddling closer like she does when nightmares hound her.

-It’s...it’s going to be my first birthday without mom. I just… don’t want to be alone.

He tries to keep his mouth closed, fighting against the impulse to soothe her. He loses miserably.

-You can come to Russia with me. We can go sightseeing after I’m done with my business and eat out somewhere, as a birthday treat.

Something lightens in her face.

-And my computer?

A sigh- I guess it’d be good to throw the one you have out. To avoid being tracked down, of course. Not because you’re a spoiled brat.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

When Thea arrived to the restaurant, her hair a golden mess and frazzled green eyes, Tim was instantly on high alert.

He had left her by the park with instructions on how to find him, as a lesson on both tracking and independence at navigating the streets. Now he wonders if leaving the ten year old alone in Buenos Aires had been a good idea.

-What happened?

She sat across from him, face instantly relaxing in the comfort and safety he always seemed to bring her.

-Nothing, just… a drunk idiot saying stuff. I lost him a couple streets ago, but…

His back tenses, and he has to consciously refrain from going out on a manhunt. Well, at least now he knows what is he gonna be doing that night when Thea sleeps.

-We are doubling your self defense lessons starting tomorrow. 

He might not want her around most of the time, but she was, and that made her his responsibility. 

She smiled, bright and relieved, and something twisted in his gut. He didn’t, couldn’t, love her. Not without a soul. 

But if he did? Gods, it was already bad enough, how much he liked her, how desperate he was to keep her safe. If he added love to the equation, he would be a total mess. 

Being soulless proved, once again, to be the best decision he ever made.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

-Tim. Tim. Tim. Tim. Tim.

-What. The fuck. Do you need. At three in the fucking morning?

-You have to go out and buy me something.

-What the… -a groan as the man sat on the bed, arms behind him holding his tired body- why is the bathroom light on? 

Thea clutched the sheets of Tim’s bed tighter, the other hand still on his shoulder where she shook him into wakefulness, but didn’t sit by his side, which spoke for itself.

-Fuck. Don’t tell me…?

-Yeah. Apparently, my time has come. Can you…?

Another groan, this one whinier- I’m going, I’m going. Don’t sit anywhere, I do want my deposit back when we leave this hotel.

-Be fast, then.

Half an hour later, the un-masked vigilante returned, pharmacy bag in hand. Moodily throwing it in her general direction, he face planted his bed.

-There. Painkillers, pads, tampons and chocolate. I’m going back to sleep. And this time, don’t wake me up unless there’s a killer in the room.

-...you mean, besides Pru?

-Shh, you know you aren’t supposed to know about her shadowing us. It makes Ra’s ansty when he knows we know.

-...Aren’t you going to congratulate me or anything? I hear that’s what parents do to their twelve year olds when they go through this for the first time.

-First of all, I’m not your parent, and you are not my twelve year old. You are just a twelve year old that follows me around against my will. Second, I may be soulless, but not heartless enough to tell you to be happy about something that will bring you little else than pain every month for like fifty years. Periods sucks, and so do pregnancies. Why would I congratulate you? Put on a pad and go to bed now. We need to be out of town by eleven tomorrow.

-You are the human version of period cramps.

-Now you can knowledgeably use that phrase. Bet you’re delighted.

-Almost unbearably. Go back to sleep, idiot. I like you better when you’re unconscious.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

-Why can’t I go with you? -She asks, but it sounds more like a tantrum.

-Stop that, you are not nine anymore. And minors are not allowed in that bar.

-So I use my fake id, big deal.

-You are not going there. It’s illegal.

-Excuse me, is this coming from the man who I had to prevent from tattooing “fuck the law” on his right buttcheek that time he got wasted?

-You know damn well I might not follow certain laws, but others are fucking carved into me. Children drinking is one of those things my gut doesn’t want to take part on. You don’t like it, do as other teens and run away.

-Fuck you, you aren’t getting rid of me that easily.

-Then be a good little girl and wait for me at the hotel.

-I’m fifteen!

-You still get tired after two hours of training, and cry whenever you watch Lilo and Stitch.

-Because you are a slave driver! I’ve gotten less hurt in fights against  people twice my size than training with you. And excuse me for having a soul, jackass.

-Apology accepted. Put on your pajamas again and go to bed. And by the time I’m back, I want that skirt reduced to ashes.

-What’s wrong with my skirt? 

-When you learn how to fight in it without flashing everyone and their mother, or alternatively can fight with it without getting distracted by embarrassment, you can use whatever you want. Until then, there’s your onesie.

-It’s called a kigurumi.

-A grown up onesie, whatever.

-The jerk store called, they’re running out of you.

-I would love to insult you back, but I’m afraid I wouldn’t do as well as nature did.

-I hate you so much.

-Uh huh. Right back at you.

-Ugh. Bring me pizza when you’re done with that gang?

A small smile. A hand messing blond curls up.

-Only if you behave while I’m gone, brat.

-.-.-.-.-.-.

The base was big, and so luxurious. Everyone bowed to her or kept out of her way, which she liked even more. The food was amazing, the teachers provided to her the top of the top, and the library was to die for. 

She wasn’t happy Tim was hurt again, but there was no denying the benefits it brought.

-Dude, you have the best sugar daddy ever.

Besides her, getting his own massage, he opened his eyes to glare.

-Ra’s is not my sugar anything. We are merely business partners; as in, I stay out of his business, he provides me with hearty income. You know this already.

Thea shook her head.

-Tim, there’s business deals, and there’s winning and dinning. This man wants a piece of you so badly it's not even funny. Sugar- Daddy.

-How do you even know that term, you’re like twelve.

-Excuse you, I’m fifteen.

-Maybe physically, but you aren’t ever going past the ‘damn brat’ stage until you can go back to sleep after a nightmare without sneaking into my bed.

-Shut up, no one asked. Hey, your sugar daddy offered me a class in stealing, can I take it? He says he has an expert around to give me lessons.

-Go for it, but if it ends up with you trying to touch my stuff, I’m leaving you here.

-.-.-.-.-.-

When Thea is sixteen, Tim turns twenty four, and she decides to give him the gift she has kept under lock and key ever since they met.

She knows about his past, because he never cared enough to hide it. She knows about his friends and family, because Conner keeps showing up, both to stalk Tim and to tell her the wildest stories of their youth. She knows about his soul, because that man, Damian, often takes it out when he visits them, face pained and desperate.

She feels guilty it took her this long. Because all this time, all this years, she had the key to bring their Tim back. She had the answers, the only one with a shot at it.

But she didn’t, because soulless Tim is the one she grew up with. The one who protected her, who carted to her needs and whims. The one who made her feel safe, even after all the cruelness she witnessed following him around.

She loves this Tim. Because this Tim, the one without a soul, loves her as well. It seems impossible, a paradox, but she knows it's true. Knows it with all her heart.

The love, the trust, the certainty of their bond, all are encompassed in the necklace she offers him on his twenty fourth birthday. The silver chain contrasting beautifully with the fluorite looking soul, shaped as a T. For Tim and Thea. 

He looks at her, and there’s resignation in his eyes. Not the hate she was expecting.

-If I take this… I’ll feel. I’ll want my soul back. We’d need to go to Gotham for it; no more world trotting, no more ‘us against the world’. Are you sure this is what you want, Thea?

She swallows, hard. She doesn’t want it to end, but the idea of standing between him and his best self is unbearable.

-As long as you take me with you, I don’t care who you are or how do you act. But you can’t leave me behind. I won’t allow it.

He smiles, warm even without his soul, even without hers, and she fears she’s going to lose it the moment his fingers touch the necklace. But she has to do this. He has rescued her, time and time again, since they met so many years ago. He has helped her build herself from the ground, protecting and guiding, and the least she can do in return is help him get himself back. 

Even saving him from a soulless existence doesn’t seem enough in comparison to all he’s done for her, reluctant or not, but that’s alright. She has the rest of her life to help her brother be happy.

But she needs to start now.

It must show in her eyes, because his smile becomes softer, an edge she hadn't noticed was there finally removed. The last line of defense gone down.

-You damn brat -he sighs, taking the necklace with shaking fingers, the emotions coursing through him instantly bringing tears to his eyes.

That’s alright too, she’s crying as well.

Because even before he touched the soul, even before he regained the ability to feel… the ‘Damn brat’ sounded heartbreakingly close to ‘I love you’.

There was an unbidden beauty, to being loved by someone without a soul. 

-I love you, too. You jackass.

[ask-de-writer]

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : Part 56 of 83 : World of Sea

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SEA DRAGON’S GIFT

Part 56 of 83

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

140406 words

copyright 2020

written 2007

All rights reserved.

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

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Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users   of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may   reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information   remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in   my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical   compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

///////////////////////

New to the story?  Read from the beginning.  PART 1 is here

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Chapter 21: Kurin Aboard Grandalor

Willing hands helped Kurin over the rail on to the deck of the Grandalor. She looked about curiously, having never been aboard this ship before.  There was none of the slovenly work or maintenance that she had subconsciously expected.  Forward of where she stood she could see a large machine occupying a good part of the precious deck space between the foremast and the mainmast.  It was hard to see it clearly through the gear and boats stacked about in careful order, everything properly lashed into place.

Plainly the Grandalor used deck space differently than she was used to from the Longin and the few other ships that she had actually been aboard. She stepped around a neat stack of nested rowing boats and got a clear view of the machine.  She stopped, shocked again.  She had seen battle catapults like this before, on the Dark Dragon, but those had been much smaller.

“What do you use that for?” she asked in a small voice, of nobody in particular.

A child’s voice answered anyway.  “We caught some big Hags and a Wing Ray with it.”

Kurin turned toward the speaker and saw little Arnat, still clutching the stuffed toy paddle duck that she had given him.  She was wondering how to tell him that his mother had been gravely wounded when Tanlin came back.

“T’ere ye are, Arnat.  Oi’ve been lookin’ for ye.  We need ye down in sickbay.  Yer mot’er’s been ‘urt.”  She looked at Kurin and asked, “Can ye come t’, Kurin?  Tis goin’ t’ be ‘ard.”

Kurin cocked her head, listening intently.  “I think that I need to.  I can hear an Orca singing,” she said softly.

Tanlin scooped up the child and quickly led the way across the deck and down a companionway.  They entered the sickbay where Darkistry and Gemma lay in bunks awaiting attention.

Doctor Corin was working over a draped woman.  He was carefully stitching her wound closed.  Kurin took a look at the situation and said, “Doctor, I know how to stitch a wound and do dressings.  Can I help?”  As she spoke she felt a change in the heel of the ship and the different rhythm of the waves told her that they were getting underway.

Doctor Corin looked up from his work.  “You know dressings?  Good.  I have some over in that pot, freshly boiled.  If you can finish Lenai, I can get to Darkistry next.”

“With due respect, Doctor, see to your daughter next,” said Darkistry firmly.

With equal firmness, he replied, “If you want that leg for anything but a souvenir in a box, let me see to it.  Gemma’s wounds are showier but yours are far more serious.”

Kurin could hear the plaintive whistling song of the Orca coming quietly through the hull of the ship as she put on a clean mask and scrubbed her hands meticulously.  Doctor Corin watched with approval as Kurin got to work.  Using disinfected tongs, which she dipped into boiling water each time that she finished any part of what she was doing, she fished out sterile sponges to wipe the blood from Lenai’s wound, before dressing it.  

She carefully placed boiled and dried soft bandage over the wound, laid clean parchment over that, and spread soft Glue Fish Glue around it, overlapping onto the parchment a little.  Then she took the freshly boiled and dried bandages and wrapped them snugly around Lenai’s abdomen several layers thick and fastened them with little double ended hooks of bone laid out for the purpose.

Doctor Corin appeared to be concentrating solely on the task of suturing the several cut muscles in Darkistry’s leg.  As Kurin finished, without even looking up, he said, “Very neat indeed.  I had heard much of your talents but I never heard that you were a surgical nurse, too.”

Kurin made a bit of a face, “I’ve never actually done it before with people but I’ve seen it done and read the fleet surgical manuals, and asked a lot of questions.  I got to do practice dressings on fish and did veterinary work on the paddle ducks.”

All that Doctor Corin said to this confession was, “I see.  Put on a fresh mask and then come here.”

“I need you to keep the blood washed out of this wound while I work. Use the lavage syringe and the solution in that narrow necked bottle. Are you familiar with what I am doing here?”

“I think so, Doctor.  This solution has dilute Hag venom in it to relax and numb the muscles as I wash the wound so that you can pull the cut muscle together with the double retractor and stitch it.  The problem is, the ends of the muscle won’t match up properly because the long end twisted about a quarter turn as it pulled back.”

He gave Kurin a sharp look.  “And the consequence of stitching it as it is?”

“She’ll have a limp and it will always ache.”

Pleased, he said, “You are exactly right.  Have you seen that happen before?”

Somewhat sheepishly Kurin admitted, “Yes, I once did just that to a poor innocent paddle duck that had been injured.”

“And you not only learned about ducks, you generalized about what happens when a muscle is twisted improperly when it is repaired.  You have the makings of a good surgeon.”  He was clearly pleased.  

He also gripped the muscle end with a forceps and released one end of the double retractor.  “Do you see that pulsing bulge in the bottom of the wound, Kurin?  That is the femoral artery.  This smooth bluish one is the femoral vein.  If either of these had opened Darkistry would have died almost immediately.”  

He carefully aligned the ends of the muscle that he was working on before he relocked the retractor.  Then he began to stitch, quickly and neatly.  “Her body will absorb this suture material in less than a week.  It will be three to four weeks before she is fully healed.  How would you handle her recovery?”

Kurin thought for a moment.  “The official way is to strap her leg to a straight splint, removing it and carefully exercising it after three to five days, strapping it back to the splint after each exercise session.  This prevents scars from forming between the muscles, locking them together and limiting her use of the leg.”

Doctor Corin noticed her hesitation, “You have a different idea?”

“Wrap her leg in bandages for padding, and make a two part shell of Strong Skin.  It’s easy to make, can be taken apart easily for exercise, and allows for simple dressing changes.  The leg doesn’t need to be held in an unnaturally straight position, either.”

The Doctor turned to Darkistry, who, leg numbed by the venom solution, was watching the operation with interest.  “Your attacker severed two muscles completely and damaged a third.  He missed the femoral artery and vein by fractions of an inch.  If you had torn the wound open just a tiny bit more than you did, you would have been dead in about a minute or a little less.

“Have you followed our discussion?”  He paused and Darkistry nodded her head.  “For the next week, your life hangs by these stitches.  If they pull out and the wound opens, the odds are good that you will die before you can get help.”

Darkistry, all jesting put aside, said, “This is another time that I will follow orders without question.  I’m worried.  This could get to be a habit.”

“Good. Now we will soon need to immobilize your leg.  Kurin has explained the official way very clearly.  She has also explained her own idea which seems to make good sense.  Which way would you like to do it?”

“Let’s try the new way.  It sounds more comfortable.  You had me immobilized after you fixed me up when I came on board.  I didn’t like it.”

The doctor turned to Kurin and said, “This is your area of expertise. I have heard some of what you can do with Strong Skin.  Here dress this wound, while I send someone to get supplies.  What do you need?” Tanlin, who had been listening carefully, motioned to the doctor that she would go.

Kurin was fishing for freshly boiled sponges with newly boiled tongs as she spoke, “Two pieces of Strong Skin about a foot wide and three feet long, one and a half pints of glue, an application roller, a lump of tallow, a rocker knife and a number two concave scraper.  I would also like four buckles, if any are available.  Regular equipment belt buckles will do nicely.”

Leaving Arnat in the corner, Tanlin left.

Kurin applied herself to cleaning and dressing the wound on Darkistry’s leg.  As she worked, she said, “On the way here, the Captain called you her best friend.  I guess that Lenai is Arnat’s mother and Gemma is Doctor Corin’s daughter?”

“You’re right.  I hear that you usually are.” said Darkistry with a wry smile.

“Why would anybody take the kind of risks that you people took?” asked Kurin in puzzlement, as she wound bandage the length of Darkistry’s leg.   “Tanlin said that you had been denied justice.  Why not just surrender to the fleet and ask for a new trial?”

Darkistry answered seriously, “Because, legal or not, they already have condemned my Captain, her husband and others to be drowned on sight. I would be forced to fight this ship to defend their lives.  I might have to sink a ship or more of a fleet that I still call my own, to save them.  I don’t want to do that.”

Kurin was shaken by the fierce loyalty that she could hear in the calm certainty of Darkistry’s words.  She thought carefully as she began laying a thin layer of tallow over the bandages.  She expertly cut the Strong Skin, applied the glue and shaped it to Darkistry’s leg, covering only the underside of it for the first part of the shell. As she applied temporary bindings to hold the shell in it’s shape, she asked the question that had been bothering her so much.

“Why do you have such strong feelings for Barad?  All that I’ve ever heard was not that good, except for his seamanship.”

TO BE CONTINUED

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[mymoodwriting]

Perfect Love

Bang Chan/Jisung, Bang Chan/Felix, Felix/Jisung

Genre: Yandere AU

Warning: Drugs, Nausea, Sickness, Nightmare

Words: 2.6K

Chapters:

One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve | Thirteen | Fourteen | Fifteen | Epilogue 

Prompt: When Jisung started dating Chan it was a lot of fun, but that’s all it was and he wanted more. It was a mutual break up, or at least he thought it was. He had no idea what Chan was capable of, that is until he finally went to his house, carried into it actually. A second chance at love is entirely out of his control, and he might not have been the first of Chan’s lovers to be in this position.

“When was the last time you took a bath.”

   Jisung sat in the tub, Felix with a sponge in hand, cleaning him up. He was mostly a vegetable, still recovering from the other day, but at least he was aware of his surroundings, of his situation. There just wasn’t really any strength within him to do anything to help himself, but he could at least gather information, even if speaking was a struggle most of the time.

“Where’s Chan?”

“Um… I think he went out this morning. Important business or something.”

  They were home alone, this was another chance to escape, but Jisung knew he wouldn’t get anywhere. He felt like he could barely move on his own, his physical capacities still impaired from his supposed treatment. Even if he got to the door and stepped outside he’d be in no position to run or even scream for help.

“He leaves you... alone? In the house?”

“Yeah, he’s got a business to run. Besides I have plenty of things to keep me busy here.”

“What… what does he do?”

“He makes medicine and a bunch of other fun stuff. People call him the Chemist, I think, he’s really good at his job. Someday you’ll be able to see the garden where he has all his plants! It’s so pretty!”

    The name, the Chemist, he vaguely recalled hearing it from Minho before. Apparently they were one of the best in the business, and quite friendly, some people actually knowing them and their lackeys personally. He felt even more stupid, people around him probably knew he had been dating the Chemist, would explain why people also became friendlier with him while they were an item, and invited him out a lot more, they knew who he’d come with.

“Felix…”

“Hm?”

“Do you love him?”

“Of course I do.” Felix answered without hesitation. “Always.”

“Why?”

“Well… Chan is kind, he’s smart, he takes care of me, and he makes me happy. He’ll make you happy too.”

“Do you realize… how terrifying that sounds?”

“Why? It’s what he does, he makes a lot of people happy, but you’re special.”

“I am?”

“Yeah.”

  Felix dunked water over his head to get the shampoo out of his hair, Jisung letting the things he had just been told settle in. At least it was becoming clear Felix wouldn’t lie to him, might not understand what he wants to know, but won’t lie. There was a knock at the door as Felix helped Jisung out of the tub.

“Are you guys done?”

“Almost! Be out in a minute.”

  Chan was back, Jisung’s heart sinking a bit. Felix dried his hair as best as he could with a towel, helping to wrap another around his waist. The two stepped out, Chan happy to see them, Felix reciprocating those feelings but he didn’t, he couldn’t feel much at the moment anyways. His eyes landed on the bed, noticing the folded clothes, which weren’t what he had worn when he was brought there, nor was it Chan’s fashion decision of dressing them in one of his shirts and no pants.

“Those… those are my clothes…”

“Yeah. I figured you would be more comfortable wearing normal clothes.”

“Those are my clothes… where did you…”

“Oh, I had your keys and I know where you live. I went to your apartment this morning and brought over your things. The essentials like clothes and some of your neat trinkets, things you can share with Felix when you’re allowed upstairs full time.”

“You… you went… to my house?”

“Well you’re moving in, you don’t need the apartment. I’ll just sell the other stuff you had before your rent is due okay, don’t worry about it.”

  Chan ruffled his hair playfully. If Jisung cared enough he would have avoided the touch but his mind was still trying to process what Chan had done. A tear slid down Jisung’s cheek.

“You… you… you cleaned out my apartment…”

“Yup.”

“It’s official then!” Felix cheered. “Always wanted a proper roommate!”

  Felix hugged the other but Jisung was frozen in place. He felt like he couldn’t breath, starting to panic. His anxiety was noticed and Chan tried to soothe him, pulling him into a hug and rubbing his back.

“Don’t be sad Sungie, you’ve got me. We’ll look at other stuff like social media and bank accounts later okay.”

  That just made him start crying alongside his panic. Even if he didn’t want to, he couldn’t help but hug Chan back, not for comfort though, he sobbed into the others shirt, digging his nails into the older boys back in agony. His life was practically over, everything he had was being taken from him, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it. Although he still had some hope.

“My friends…” He pulled away and looked at Chan through tears. “My friends will know something is wrong… they’ll notice I’ve disappeared… they’ll come looking for me!”

“Don’t worry about that, I won’t let them interfere with your treatment. Besides, you’ll be all better by the time they realize and you can calm them down yourself.”

“You’re sick!”

“No, I’m just helping you. Now, let’s get you dressed. Felix, why don’t you make breakfast?”

“Yes! I can cook for Jisung!”

  Felix ran upstairs with a skip in his step. Chan stayed, helping Jisung dress, facing no resistance. Despite the early breakdown he still couldn’t do much on his own. Jisung was pretty much shut down at that point, he didn’t want to talk, rather torture himself by wallowing in this nightmare he got himself into. When he was dressed Chan took him upstairs.

♥♥♥♥♥

   Jisung stayed quiet. He didn’t want to eat, but that wasn’t acceptable, Chan taking it upon himself to feed him. He only ate cause his body was running on autopilot, and even if he wasn’t aware, he was hungry. Eating also made Felix really happy, he was making noises that said he liked the food, it was good after all, and the chef was happy his food was being enjoyed.

  When breakfast was over he stayed seated. Since he clearly wasn’t able to do anything himself, Chan didn’t want him to be left alone while he was in that state, so he figured it was best to let him stay on the first floor with Felix looking after him. He had work to do in the basement, and also wanted Jisung to use the chance to stretch his legs and get a change of scenery too, also to get familiar with his new home.

   Felix was doing the dishes as Jisung stayed at the table. The words didn’t register, nothing really registered. Though, at some point he got up and walked around, he was slow in his movements, so Felix didn’t worry too much about him being out of sight, he kept talking too, just making his voice louder.

   Jisung made his way to the living room, the furniture was certainly more than enough for two people, nice big TV mounted on the wall. Although what caught his attention, pulling him into his dreadful reality, were the pictures on the walls. Some of the pictures he saw were of Felix and Chan, some taken in the house, some in places he didn’t recognize, but they were certainly taken somewhere else. His attention was then drawn to the pictures on a table, he grabbed one.

   What stood out the most was Felix. He and Chan didn’t look like a couple, more like two friends sharing a drink, but the eyes. Chan looked rather the same, maybe happier and more energetic now. Felix on the other hand, despite looking happy, his eyes reflected pain, he was forcing that smile. It was like the complete opposite of the Felix he knew, the boy he knew was always smiling, always at ease and relaxed, his eyes glowing with happiness.

  His gaze then drifted over to another picture. He was dumbfounded at first, not sure if it was real. He traded pictures, starting at himself and Chan sitting by a campfire together, both grinning like idiots. Jisung shook his head, squinting his eyes, but it was really them. He remembered Chan asking someone to take the picture but he had no idea it had been printed and framed, let alone placed in a frame next to a picture of him with his other boyfriend. With that new info he became aware of other photos of him and Chan in the living room.

“I always wondered when I’d meet you.”

  Felix’s voice startled Jisung. He had been lost in his own thoughts, not realizing Felix had stopped shouting from the kitchen and had actually come into the living room. The other had a soft smile on his face and came over and took the picture from him.

“Chan wouldn’t stop talking about you, he told me everything.”

“Wait… Chan told you about me?”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re not… mad or something? You know… we were dating.”

“Yup.”

“But aren’t you two… a thing?”

“Me and Chan, yeah we are, but we don’t… we don’t like, go out on dates. I don’t like going outside and leaving the house… so I was really happy Chan had you! Someone to keep him company at those parties and make him happy. Just look at the two of you!”

“If you two are… doesn’t that mean… Chan was cheating on you? Cheating on me with you…”

“What? I don’t see it as cheating, he wasn’t hiding me from you.”

“But he was hiding you from me. Is that why he never… showed me affection? Just party and have fun with me… and then come home to cuddle with you?”

“No, that’s not it. Chan really loves your smile, your laugh, that’s all he ever wanted to do when he was with you, make you happy. The way he talks about you, he can go on for hours. That’s why I was so curious when he’d bring you home.”

“Are you saying… Chan always planned to do this… to me?”

“I don’t know, I would think so. It’s clear he really loves you, so of course he’d want to make you the happiest person ever!”

“I-”

“Felix!” Chan’s shouting cut them off. “Can you go into the garden and get me some herbs?”

“Yeah, which ones!” Felix put the picture down. “I’ll be right back.”

  Jisung was left alone, he stared at the pictures again. He wasn’t sure if this was his fate since he met Chan, but he started feeling sick, he couldn’t look at the pictures anymore. He stepped out into the hall, he looked up the stairs, wondering what the second floor was like for a moment but he didn’t think he had the strength to make that climb, although he was feeling better. Then the sound of buzzing caught his attention.

   He looked back to see a basket on a table near the front door. He walked over to see his phone, keys, and wallet were there, among other things. His phone buzzed again and he grabbed it, he was getting a message from Minho. From what he saw the other had no idea Jisung had been kidnapped. He was about to answer when he heard the doorbell ring. It startled him, but he somehow managed to smile, Chan was in the basement and Felix in the backyard, none were as close to the front door as he was. Getting out of the house alone wouldn’t have helped him, but now he had his phone, and he could tell the person at the door he was being held captive.

   His mind was still hazy and his body wasn’t fully functioning, but for this he didn’t need it to. When he opened the door he stepped out and hugged the person there, tightly. He started sobbing, the stranger clearly confused by the situation. Jisung was mumbling into some random person’s shirt, just relieved there was someone else who could actually help him. Eventually he was patted on his back, then grabbed and moved back.

“Are you okay?”

“I… I… no… they’ve been-”

“Changbin?”

“Chan?”

  Jisung stopped talking when he heard Chan’s voice, freaking out a bit more when it seemed the person at the door wasn’t a stranger but a friend to his kidnapper. He was worried for a moment, but then realized this was his chance to expose Chan and get help, for him and Felix.

“You have to help me!”

“Help you? I don’t-”

  Jisung was suddenly yanked back into the house, Chan’s arm wrapped around him, pinning him against the older boy. He noticed the phone and took it from Jisung, turning it off and putting it in his pocket. Jisung whimpered, rather frozen in place once again.

“Changbin, this is Jisung.”

“Jisung? Your boyfriend?”

“Yeah.”

“I thought you two split up.”

“It was more like a break really, he’s living here with me now and I’m taking care of him.”

“Like Felix?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, oh did I interrupt-”

“It’s not your fault, I was expecting you later.”

“I had the time and figured it wouldn’t hurt to come by sooner, I should have called, my bad.”

“You’re fine.”

“Changbin!” Felix rushed over, hugging the other. “Hi, it’s been a while.”

“I saw you like a few days ago. Anyway, how have you been?”

“Good! Oh, have you met Jisung! He’s my new roommate!”

“I just did and he seems lovely.”

“What…” Jisung finally managed to speak. “You’re… you’re not going to help me?”

“I can’t help you the way Chan will.”

“No! No, he’s sick! He’s crazy! He’s not gonna help me!”

“Easy Jisung.” Chan’s grip got tighter. “Sorry, I just started his treatment, his mind is a mess right now.”

“I can tell.”

“I’ll be right back, Felix, keep him company for me.”

“Will do.”

  Whatever strength Jisung had he used it to fight, to squirm and try to get free. He screamed when he was taken downstairs, clearly not aware that he lost. He was expecting to be taken to his room, ready to strike with whatever he had when he was let go but that wasn’t the case. Chan dragged him over to the table he had been strapped down to before. There was no way he was gonna let himself be tied down again, but that was never the plan.

   Chan struggled a bit to keep Jisung in his grasp, but managed to pin him against the table. Jisung kept up his thrashing, not aware that Chan was reaching over for an oxygen mask. Before he knew it Chan was pressing that thing against his face, Jisung unintentionally taking in a deep breath of the gas. It didn’t take long for the drugs to affect him and he went limp, Chan letting out a sigh in relief.

“You really snapped up there huh? It’s okay though. I’m not mad, it’s not your fault.”

  Jisung didn’t respond, his head spinning way more than before, and tears were building up again. Chan gently looked him over, he was barely conscious, but at least he was calm. He picked him up and took him to his room. He had a few scratch marks, but he didn’t care, at least Jisung was unharmed. He stayed for a moment, making sure Jisung would be alright, gently petting him, a few whimpers escaping the little ones lips.

“Sh, sh, sh, you’re okay. I shouldn’t have left you alone, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again, get some rest.”

  Chan softly kissed the boys forehead, tucking him in and leaving him to sleep. Jisung’s drugged up self couldn’t really process what had happened, but he was aware of the lesson he had learned. Chan’s friends knew what he was and they wouldn’t help him, his situation was starting to really feel hopeless, no one was gonna save him.

[venmomejoy]

The Lucky Ones- part 2

Thank you guys for reading!! I hope you like this chapter :)

Read it on AO3 here !!!

part one / part three / part four

As soon as Neil made it back into his interim home, he spent hours pouring over the script Kevin had given him. Neil immersed himself in the pages of dialogue and stage directions, allowing himself to leave Neil Josten for a while and slip into the mind of Alex Howell.

The Foxes was a lot different than Evermore. Where Evermore focused on magic and fantasy elements, The Foxes had a modern setting, with no supernatural aspects. Rather than flashy effects and gripping action scenes, The Foxes depicted the messy lives and relationships of the students at Palmetto High School, specifically how they interact and respond in the wake of the murder of a classmate, all the while navigating friendship and romance and identity. Neil will be playing Alex, a transfer student who is chock-full of secrets, and seems to know more than he is letting on. The irony wasn't lost on Neil. 

He tried to get some sleep, but only managed to toss and turn for a few hours, restlessness forcing his eyes open. Early morning light was just beginning to filter through the windows when Neil inspected the contents of his duffel bag, ensuring all of his belongings were still inside. He never unpacked the thing, or left it out of his sight long enough for someone to go through it, but he would rather be safe than sorry. He couldn't afford to lose these things; he would be completely alienated from all of his connections and resources if he did, losing contacts for quality fake IDs and coordinates for stashes of cash. 

Neil desperately needed to run, craving the blankness of mind that comes with pushing his body to its limits, but unfortunately, abandoned houses weren't equipped with running water, and he thought it was probably bad form to show up for his first day sticky with dried sweat, for as soon as they landed in L.A., they would be heading straight to set so Neil could meet the cast and crew. 

If the pale pink light coloring the walls was any indication, it was far too early for Wymack to retrieve him, but Neil was too agitated to lie around any longer. He settled for a walk, needing some sort of outlet for the nervousness slowly eating through his sanity. Motion had always been Neil's most conformable state; running was what he was used to, what kept him safe. There was comfort in it- in movement, he was always in a position to escape. Sitting still left him vulnerable. It was in stillness that he could be cornered. 

Swinging his duffel bag over his shoulder, Neil turned and took one last look at the house. It was dingy, stains littering the ceiling and carpet, paint peeling off in large chunks, but Neil had kept it pretty clean. No one would suspect he had been squatting there for the past three and a half months. Neil took off without a backwards glance.

With hours to kill, Neil practically covered the entirety of the town as he walked. Residential streets eventually gave way to businesses- restaurants, doctors offices', the lone grocery store. Neil let his gaze dart around, checking for anyone hidden in the shadows, any strange cars passing him on the road. He knew this was a bad idea. Joining one of the most prominent shows on television was the exact opposite of what Neil needed to be doing if he wanted to stay alive. He needed to live in obscurity, and instead, he was pushing himself into the brightest spotlight he could find. Not to mention the fact that his personal life would be put on blast; the media loved to dredge up celebrities' private information. He wasn't sure his story would hold up under that kind of scrutiny. But he needed something, something to ground him, to sate this hunger for more than just survival.

Soon enough, the town started waking up. The streets began filling as people drove to work or dropped their kids off at school. There was a good amount of people walking as well, the town so small that it was easy enough to walk most everywhere you needed to go. Several people smiled as they passed Neil, some even waving in greeting; Neil instinctively dropped his head, letting his dark brown curls shield his face. Neil took the growing activity in town as indication that he should probably head towards the theater to meet Wymack. 

Within ten minutes Neil found himself at the front of the theater. The building was deserted- no one had business at the theater at eight a.m. on a Monday morning. Neil sat on the concrete steps leading to the building, his knee bouncing as he waited for the ride that would take him away from this life, away from all he'd ever known. 

The theater sat directly across from the high school. From where he was sitting, Neil could see the students lounging outside the building, chatting with their friends, waiting until the last possible minute to run into class. He had chosen to make Neil Josten eighteen when he moved here, even though he would not actually turn eighteen for five more months, so he had never been inside the school. Neil had been disconsolate when he arrived here; in the midst of altering his entire lifestyle so it would function without his mother, he didn't have it in him to bother with school. He also didn't want to worry about forging parental consent, which worked out well for Wymack's offer- being eighteen allowed him to sign the contract and work on set without required notification and consent of a guardian. 

A honk startled Neil from his thoughts, his hands flying to his bag as his muscles tensed to run, but he relaxed at the sight of Wymack behind the wheel. Kevin was staring unabashedly at Neil as he stalks over to the black suburban. He slid into the backseat next to Andrew, and the smile he shot Neil was nothing short of venomous. Neil kept his face blank as he averted his eyes. 

It was Kevin who spoke first. "Where is your stuff?"

"This is it." Neil tightened his grip on his bag as Kevin eyed it. 

"Do you want to put it in the trunk?" Wymack asked. "We have a bit of a drive to the airport." 

"I'm fine with it here."He could tell he had piqued Andrew's interest, could feel his eyes roving over his bag with renewed interest, but refused to acknowledge him. He could not give Andrew any indication of what this bag held, any reason to be curious about his belongings.

"Suit yourself," Wymack said, pulling the car onto the road. After moments of silence, he spoke up again. "So, Neil, you're familiar with The Foxes?"

"Sort of. I've seen a couple episodes." Without television or internet access, it was hard to find opportunities to watch. 

"Wow, too good to act with us, and too good to even watch the show? You've wounded my pride, Neil," Andrew drawled from beside him. 

Neil's jaw clenched, willing himself to maintain his docile persona. He didn't need to draw any unnecessary attention to himself, and certainly didn't need any enemies as dangerous as Andrew Minyard, if the stories about him were to be believed. "It's not that, we just didn't have internet access at my house."

"Your parents spend all that time working and they still can't afford internet?" Neil just looked at the blond, unable to come up with a response. 

"Andrew," Wymack warned. 

"We're all trying to figure out what the deal with your parents is. Well, I am, at least. My money's on them beating you, but Kevin and Wymack aren't the betting sort, so I'll have to take my wager elsewhere." Neil snapped his head up, meeting Andrew's taunting gaze. Neil knows he's just trying to provoke him, but it still unnerves him how close Andrew was to the truth after knowing Neil for an hour, if even.

"Jesus, Andrew," Wymack groans. "Cut the shit or I'll sign you up for the next marathon."

"I'm quaking in my boots." Andrew busts out in a fit of laughter that no one else joins. 

Entirely ignoring Andrew's comments, Kevin steers the conversation back towards the show. "You'll need to watch the first two seasons before we can even think about beginning production." He twists in his seat to look at Neil. "Everything builds on itself in television; the plot of this season will be in direct correlation to the plot of the previous ones. It's important that you understand everything that has already happened, how the other characters behave and interact, so you can properly play your role. A lot of characters' backstories and personalities have already been explored in the earlier seasons, and everything that occurs in season three will be written with the expectation that the audience has seen the previous episodes and already knows these facts; we cannot repeat things for you. So these two weeks, while you familiarize yourself with the cast and the inner workings of screen acting, you will watch the show. Then we can get started on the actual acting.” 

Neil knew all of this, of course, and was vaguely annoyed that Kevin was speaking to him like he was stupid, but he had told them he had no experience with screen acting, and an amateur would be hanging onto his every word. Unable to stoop that low, Neil settled on schooling his features into neutrality and offering a nod of understanding. But there was still another issue:

"How am I going to watch it?" Without a phone or a computer, there was no way for him to stream anything. 

"You'll be staying with us in the cast house, and we have TVs there that you can use," Kevin said, either unaware of or ignoring Neil's confused stare. 

Before he could ask Kevin about the cast house, Andrew spoke up. "Haven't you heard, Neil? We all live together during filming. One big, happy family." Laughter bubbles out of Andrew's chest. 

This posed new complications for Neil. On one hand, he wouldn't have to waste as much money on housing and the like. He had been nervous about blowing so much of his resources on a house, since he imagined he wouldn't be able to get away with squatting on abandoned property with so many people watching him. He would probably still have to pay a portion of the rent and utilities, but it would be far less than he was expecting, and that lifted a weight off of his shoulders. On the other, it would make it a lot harder for Neil to keep things confidential. Not only would he be at risk for people looking through his things, if he had to run he would have a whole crowd of people to sneak past. He would have to keep his guard up all the time; one slip-up could cost him his life, and he would no longer have a space to drop his act. 

The conversation dwindled after that, and the airport appeared sooner than Neil had anticipated. After checking their bags and going through security, the four of them walked to their gate and boarded the plane almost immediately. Neil was surprised to be seated first class; it made sense, he supposed, since he was flying with an acclaimed director and two of the most famous actors in Hollywood, but Neil had only ever flown in the economy class, he and his mother always opting for the cheapest option possible. The plush seats were roomier than the firm, cramped ones Neil had known. 

He was sat with Wymack, Kevin and Andrew sitting together across the aisle. From what he'd heard in the news, Andrew and Kevin were practically inseparable, one hardly ever being seen without the other. If they were as close as the media seems to think, Neil understood why they choose to sit together, but Neil couldn't help a little stab of resentment when he realized they had left him with Wymack. He didn't have anything against the man, but he had a deep-seated fear of any man that was close to his father's age, and Wymack fit the description. Neil tensed as soon as Wymack fell into the seat next to him, his instincts revolting at the idea of sitting in close quarters with him. Neil clasped his hands tightly in his lap, willing his muscles to relax. After the plane plateaued in the air, Neil pulled out his script and begins analyzing the lines, chunks beginning to stick in his memory. 

"It's important to read the entire script, so you know what is happening in the show as a whole, but after getting a general understanding of the episode's plot you should focus on your scenes. I know in theatre you have months of rehearsals to nail your lines, but screen acting is far more condensed. You have a couple of weeks now, but typically actors get the script only days before they begin filming. No need wasting brain space on scenes you are not even in."

Neil suppressed an eye roll at Wymack's unsolicited advice. His director filled the first half of the flight preparing Neil for what he would face when he arrived in L.A., explaining what the set would look like and how a typical day of filming would go. It had been many years since Neil had been on a set, and he had been a child at that, so he gladly absorbed all the information Wymack gave him. He told him a little bit about the main cast, and he told him that he and the rest of the cast will have biweekly meetings with their acting coach, Abby, courtesy of Kevin. Apparently, Kevin thought their biggest issue was that they acted as individuals, not as a team. In a scene, the actors need to draw from each other's energies and emotions to make the connection authentic, and Kevin's been working on making the cast more in sync. He and Wymack eventually settled into silence, Neil reading his script and Wymack typing away on his laptop. 

The flight was pretty short, only two hours of airtime before they were landing in LAX. The drive to the studio was quiet, the occasional comment fading into silence. Neil was staring out the window, taking in the scenery of his new home. It was dirtier than he expected, but still nice. He assumed the beautiful scenery always seen in movies was towards the beaches, not in the middle of urban life, so he cut the city some slack. The sheer amount of people he saw passing by had him clutching his duffel bag tighter. It was too easy to get lost in a city this big, to disappear and have no one notice you're gone until it's too late. Neil had been looking over his shoulder his whole life, but that isn't always enough when people are coming from all sides. 

They drove through security at the studio, providing authorization before parking in Wymack's designated spot. As Neil swung out of the car, he spotted a brown-skinned boy sprinting towards him, a grin breaking out on his face. If the curls didn't give the man's identity away, his personality did: Nicky Hemmick was bubbly beyond belief, his excitement making Neil vaguely uncomfortable. Walking at a much slower pace behind Nicky was a carbon copy of Andrew- his twin, Aaron. 

"You must be Neil," Nicky panted, sticking his hand out for Neil to shake when he got close enough. "How was your trip? I hope Kevin and Andrew didn't soil your opinion of us; I swear, the rest of us have manners."

Andrew feigned hurt. "Here I was, expecting a touching reunion, and this is what I'm met with? Slander, and from my own cousin!"

"It was fine," Neil said.

"That's good to hear. I'm Nicky, by the way. I play Henry." Nicky's character had always been a fan favorite; many people found themselves relating to the sweet gay kid and the adversity he faced as he came out.

Neil pulls up a quick smile. "It's nice to meet you."

Aaron didn't so much as acknowledge Neil when he looked over at him. Wymack's gruff voice spoke up. "Is everyone else inside?"

Nicky nodded. "Anxiously awaiting our newest member," he said, sending a wink Neil's way. 

With that, Kevin strode forward and Neil followed him into the building, Wymack, Nicky, and the twins flanking him. Kevin was pointing things out as they walked- where the bathrooms were, where the craft service was located- and eventually led him into the lounge, where the rest of the cast was sitting. Almost all of them stood as Neil entered, a tall boy with spiky black hair approaching him first. 

“Matt Boyd," he said, extending his hand. "Wymack showed us some videos of you performing, you seem like you have real talent. We're excited to work with you." 

"Speak for yourself," Aaron muttered from behind him. 

"Thank you," Neil responded to Matt. The man only clapped him on the shoulder, not noticing the way Neil stiffened under the contact. 

Matt pointed to the short-haired girl standing behind him, a fierce smile on her face. "This is Dan, our fearless leader." Dan Wilds played Kayla, the shows main protagonist. 

"And that is Renee," he said sweeping his hand to a girl with a kind face and rainbow-tipped hair, before moving onto a couple, the girl sitting on the boy's lap, his hands running idly over her thighs. "And the PDA show stars Allison and Seth. Those two are always all over each other. Well, unless their fighting. Then you won't see them speaking unless it's to hurl insults at each other."

"We can hear you, dick," Seth seethes.

Dan steps forward, halting the brewing fight before it could take off. "It's really good to meet you, Neil. Kevin said you have already started looking at the script?"

"Yeah, I studied it last night, and on the flight."

"Perfect, we want you to be as prepared as possible for your first time on set. We have a training session with Abby tomorrow, so that will give us an opportunity to feel out where you are in your skills and how you naturally work with all of us. We can go from there." Neil simply nodded. 

"The table read for the episode one will be in two weeks," Wymack says. "In that time, Neil, you need to be caught up on the show and familiar with the set. These guys will all help you if you have any questions. Now, I've got paperwork to do, so you maggots do something useful for once and show Neil around." With that, he strode out of the room.

Neil stood their awkwardly for a moment, unsure what to say, but Dan quickly came to his rescue. "Let's go, Neil. We can take you by your trailer so you can drop your stuff off, and then we'll show you the inner workings of a television set."

Neil followed Dan, with Matt, Allison, Seth, and Renee coming as well, but turned back to look at the group he was leaving behind. Kevin, Nicky, and Aaron were paying him no mind, not even noticing his gaze, but he found Andrew's eyes already on his. Andrew's intense gaze never wavered as a slow smile spread across his face. When Neil didn't break his stare, Andrew cocked his head to the side, flicking his fingers in a mocking goodbye. 

Neil had the feeling he would be seeing a lot more of Andrew. And he doubted it would be friendly.

[katehuntington]

Title: Ride With Me (part six) Fandom: Supernatural AU Characters series: Reader, Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Ellen Singer-Harvelle, Jo Singer (Harvelle), Benny Lafitte, Ash Miles, Garth Fitzgerald IV, Castiel Novek, and many more. Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader (eventually) Word count: ±1900 words Summary series: Y/N is a talented horse rider who is on her way to become a professional. In order to convince her father that she deserves the loan needed to start her own farm, she goes to Arizona for six months, to intern at a ranch owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Her future is set out, but then she meets a handsome horseman, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family.  Summary part six: Y/N is getting lost in the feelings that she’s developing for Dean, and it doesn’t take long before Jo takes notice. Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff, angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak. Crying, nightmares, childhood trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief. Music: Check out ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify! Author’s note: Thank you @kittenofdoomage and @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish for helping me. You girls are awesome betas.

Ride With Me Masterlist

     Okay, maybe the tequila last night wasn’t such a good idea. Neither was that margarita the previous night, or the drinking game the night before that one. Or was it the other way around? Y/N cannot seem to recall, but today is Friday, so at least tomorrow she can sleep her way through the headache. Never ever did she drink as much as she did this week. Normally that would bother her, especially considering she’s not here on Spring break. But when the drinks are offered in a time when she needs a little something to stop thinking about that damned Dean Winchester, she couldn't care less about the increase of alcohol consumption.

     She found the balance quite quickly, too. Intoxicated enough to let go of the complexity that comes with growing fondness of the head wrangler, but sober enough to stop herself from doing anything stupid. The consequence is, however, that on this morning ride, her brain feels like it’s trying to expand beyond the size of her head. Thank God her stomach isn't acting up, because Joplin is trotting under her nervously. Seems like Y/N is having trouble finding the ‘walk’ button this early. The hot-blooded mare fails to respond when her rider asks her to slow down by saying ‘ho’ with a calm voice, but when Y/N breathes out, relaxes her legs, and shifts deeper in the saddle only by a fraction of an inch, the black horse transitions to walk.

     “Good girl,” Y/N compliments her.

     Three days without riding were more than she could handle. Meadow needed some time to recover from the long journey and to get used to her new home, but Y/N needed to restrain herself from climbing on the mare’s back anyway. She imagined this was a glimpse of what it would be like to kick an addiction cold turkey, going into withdrawal from the lack of her drug. As if not being able to train her own horse wasn't enough, it took another extra day before Y/N got onto any horse at all. It wasn't until yesterday morning that the supervisor decided that she deserved a shot at proving herself as a wrangler. She had to earn that by mucking, shit scooping, cleaning tack, and turning horses in and out. Which she gets, of course. Dean and Bobby wanted to see what she is made of before they let her ride one of their animals. But boy, was she frustrated. She even got to the point that Garth almost caught her muttering a promise to herself that if she had to clean up some horse’s massive dump one more time without a reward, she would be out of here.

     Yesterday she finally got to accompany a few guests on a trail. It was amazing to feel the horse move under the saddle again, the experience of the communication that she established within a second, and how the perfect fit on his back felt like home. Apparently, she did well, because on this morning ride, she is allowed to come along too.

     Content, she looks ahead at the large group of inexperienced riders, who find their way down the hill with some difficulty. The respect Y/N holds for the trail horses has grown, because their patience and ability to keep their clumsy passengers in the saddle hasn't ceased to amaze her. Bruce, a draft horse mix, has halted several times already, waiting motionless until his overweight German load has pulled himself back into the saddle after slowly tipping to one side. It's quite entertaining to watch.

     As she smiles at what’s playing out in front of her, the sound of hoofsteps close by on the rocky surface reaches her hearing. When she glances over her shoulder, a beautiful buckskin is just about to transition to an easy walk after catching up. Her eyes glide up until they meet his rider.

     “So, how are you this morning?” Dean wonders, a playful smile on his face.      It takes a short moment for her to answer, taken aback by her body’s response to the sight of the wrangler. A whirlwind starts to twist in her stomach, yet the headache suddenly doesn't seem as tormenting as it was a minute ago.      “I'm okay,” she claims.      He grins. “Sure about that? You had quite a few drinks last night.”      “I can handle myself,” she returns defensively, narrowing her eyes at him a little.      “Oh, I’m sure you can.”

     He chuckles, the warm and low sound rumbling deep in his throat triggering Y/N to peek at him from the corner of her eye. Was that a nervousness she detected? Did she just make him uneasy? He looks down, his lips drawn in a small smile. The sun from the east outlines the sharp lines of his jaw, edged by a scruff; apparently he didn't take the time to shave this morning. Boy, is she glad he didn’t.

     “Okay, I'll admit,” she says, trying to take away his insecurities. “My stomach might be a little… unsettled.”      Y/N isn’t lying, although alcohol has nothing to do with the butterflies that came to life inside of her. He doesn't know that, thankfully, yet he keeps a hold of his intern’s gaze for a little while longer, reading her. As if Dean’s horse wants to help love a little, the Quarter sways closer to her horse Joplin, the two of them now riding stirrup to stirrup. His knee slightly brushes against hers every other step and despite that it's barely a touch, she’s highly aware of the physical contact.

     “Don't throw up on your horse if you want to leave a good impression with me. Believe me, it ain't pretty,” Dean half jokes, half flirts.      She throws her head back in a laugh. “Don't worry, I won't. But please don't tell me you have seen that happen.”      “More than once, I'm afraid,” he remembers, turning in his saddle to face his younger cousin. “Ey, Jo?”      The blonde cowgirl, who is about thirty yards behind them, throws him a confused look, since she hasn't picked up a word of their conversation. Puzzled, she watches, inducing the riders further up to laughter.      “No way!” Y/N cries out.      “I ain’t kiddin’,” Dean sniggers. “I'll save that story for another time. Y’know, when your stomach isn't ‘unsettled’ by the same tequila that started Jo’s tale.”

     He spurs his horse, who canters forward to meet the group of guests up ahead. She observes Dean as the morning sun portrays the cowboy and his horse in a romantic light. Out here, away from the city, the Arizona landscape would have anyone believe that they traveled back to the time, when the Wild West was still the real deal. Cacti surround them, peculiar mountain peaks shaped by ten thousand years of wind erosion obstruct the far edge of the world. And in this perfect portrait rides a handsome cowboy, one with his horse, clouds of dust in their wake. An amused smile allows a glimpse of Y/N’s true feelings to shine through. There it is again, that tingly sensation in her belly. Sure, Dean. Blame it on the tequila, she thinks to yourself.

     “What the hell was that?”      Now that Dean left his spot next to her, Jo has caught up, gently pulling the reins as she sits back to bring her horse’s pace down.      Feeling caught, Y/N looks at her, brought off balance by the spite in the cowgirl’s voice. “What do you mean?”      “Oh, c’mon, Yankee. I wasn’t born yesterday, and neither were you. You just completed your master in business, don't act like you're stupid,” Jo counters. “You and Dean, what’s going on?”      The cowgirl eyes her in shock, her jaw dropping unpleasantly surprised. Was it really that obvious? How is she going to talk herself out of this one?      “I - I don't--” she stutters, blood rushing to her face. “There - there's nothing--”      She’s not sure if it’s her shameful expression or the fact that she lost her tongue, but Jo knows enough. She closes her eyes and sighs deeply.      “Y/N…” her friend starts, a mixture of disappointment and pity present in her voice. “Please don't go down that road. He will hurt you so bad you're gonna wish you never gone on that flight that got you here.”      Now the intern sighs too. Denying will not do her any good. Jo is smart enough to see right through it.      “Listen, I really like having you around. You're good company, you're a hard worker, you're great with the horses, and I don’t wanna lose my sis,” the ranch owner’s daughter says genuinely. “I would hate to see you leave because of my heartbreaker of a cousin. I've seen this play out so many times already, don't walk into that trap.”      “I think that ship has sailed,” her friend admits out loud.

     The words startle the woman who speaks them just as much as they stun Jo; she didn't intend to share that with her new friend already. But now that the comment is hovering between them without a way to take it back, a part of her is glad it’s out there. Dean has been about the only thing on her mind since she first saw him. Not being able to talk about that with anyone was driving her mad. She needs to vent to someone, someone she can trust.

     Shocked by the bombshell that Y/N just dropped, Jo turns her head to orient her big eyes towards the man in question. That son of a bitch..      “Well, that didn't take long…” The cowgirl shakes her head, then looks her in the eye after her confession. It's clear she feels sorry for her friend. “I'll talk to him.”      “No! Jo, please don't. Look, I didn't forget about your warning and I’m surely not going to act on these... feelings,” she guarantees, barely able to get out the word. “But I can't shut this off. It caught me by surprise as well.”      “He tends to have that effect on women,” Jo mutters.      “I won't do anything stupid,” Y/N assures her.      Jo glances at the intern from under her hat. “Promise?”

     She looks backs at her new friend. Honestly, she isn’t sure if she’s strong enough to resist Dean, but this agreement might help her stick to the plan. The plan to complete her internship successfully and return home to start her own ranch. It's all she ever wanted, it has been her life goal for as long as she can remember. Is she really going to let some cowboy stop her from fulfilling that dream? A very handsome, sweet, and utterly irresistible cowboy, but nonetheless. She will reach for the stars and she will have her wish, nothing will stand in her way, not even him. And so a reassuring smile forms on her lips.

     “I promise.”

Well, the cat’s out of the bag. Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

Read part seven here