#you'll enjoy this chapter though I think. Very fluffy

[captainbee66]

Here, have a teaser for "Make a Friend?" because I need to prove that I haven't abandoned this fic

[punkshort]

look what we've become - ch.10

Chapter Summary: Tommy and Maria get married.

Chapter Warnings: language, marriage/wedding ceremony, mentions of pregnancy, so much fluff, so many feelings, soft joel, alcohol, talks of pregnancy, smut (18+ MDNI), fingering, unprotected piv sex, dirty talk

WC: 7.1K

A/N: The finale is here, my friends! I want to say a quick thank you to all of you who came back week after week. All of your support means the world to me and encourages me to keep writing. I hope you find the ending is satisfying for these characters, I did my best to stay true to the story I've created here. It is very fluffy and maybe a little cheesy but I think these characters earned it. Enjoy ❤️

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter

"Oh my god, I'm so nervous," Maria said, staring at herself in the mirror as you helped apply her makeup. There was just an hour left before the ceremony, and the butterflies were finally beginning to get to her. "Fuck, I wish I could drink." You laughed as you leaned forward to apply more blush to her cheeks.

"What's there to be nervous about?"

"Oh, I don't know! Declaring your undying love for someone in front of every single person in the entire town while trying not to throw up?" she said sarcastically, her voice taking on a panicky tone.

"You'll be fine. When you see him, I'll bet you anything, all of that shit will just melt away and it'll just be you and him. No one else matters," you told her, holding her gaze and watching your words land. "He loves you so much, Maria. You two are perfect together. There's no reason to be afraid."

She just stared at you, dumbfounded, as she listened to your little speech.

"Not to take away from all that, but that's pretty impressive coming from someone who had a fear of marriage not too long ago," she teased. You rolled your eyes and turned around to pick up the mascara.

"Well, maybe I had a best friend who was nice enough to knock some sense into me," you told her with a smirk. "Now tilt your head back and open your eyes up super wide," you told her, dipping the wand into the tube several times, hoping there was enough product left over to make her look perfect.

"Ugh, when's it gonna be my turn," Carrie said with a pout, waltzing into Maria's living room with a glass of wine in her hand. You glanced up at her and stifled a laugh.

"You better slow down, it's gonna be a long night," you warned her, but she just waved you off as she collapsed into the recliner.

"Seriously, though. What's Jake waiting for? We've been together for ages and I'm not getting any younger," she said, taking a sip from her glass.

"Have you talked about your future together?" Maria asked, still staring up at the ceiling as you applied another coat of mascara.

"Yeah, but he's just taking forever. I wish I was like you and didn't care," Carrie said, nodding in your direction. Maria's eyes locked onto yours and you shrugged.

"Oh, yeah. I told her a long time ago," you said sheepishly, and she shook her head lightly.

"Well, if she knows everything, then I guess it's okay if I tell her you want to get married now?" Maria asked defiantly. Your eyes widened and you pressed your lips into a thin line when you heard Carrie jump up and clap her hands.

"I knew it! I knew you'd come around! Can I be a bridesmaid?" she asked, and you nearly dropped the makeup in your hand.

"Whoa, slow down! Joel doesn't even know how I feel about it, so let's keep this super fucking quiet, okay?" you told her, giving her a stern look. She nodded and pretended to zip her lips, but you pointed menacingly at her. "Promise me, Carrie. Don't say a goddamn thing."

"I promise!" she said, holding her hand up in defeat, the other still clutching her glass. "But why haven't you told him?"

"What am I supposed to say? 'Oh, remember all the hell I put you through? Yeah, that was all for nothing, I changed my mind, let's get hitched?'" you said sarcastically before putting the mascara away and giving Maria a hand mirror.

"I'll bet if you said that, he would totally be on board," Maria said with a laugh before handing you the mirror back.

"Well, why don't you ask him to marry you instead?" Carrie offered, staring at her nails and frowning at the chipped paint. Your jaw dropped at the suggestion.

"Oh my god, I can't do that!"

"Why not? What does it even matter? I bet he'd love it," Carrie said, looking back up at you. You slowly shook your head and then Maria chimed in.

"How do you know he isn't planning on asking you already?"

"Now? I really doubt it," you scoffed.

"You never know," she told you, standing up to fix her hair before glancing at the time. "Enough about you, it's my day so let's get me into my dress."

You laughed and followed her to her bedroom.

"Man, you are really bossy since you've gotten pregnant, you know that?" you said with a grin, and somewhere behind you Carrie giggled.

"Newsflash: I was bossy before. Now wait here so you can zip me into this damn thing because if I don't fit, I'm going to scream."

Maria had always wanted to get married outside, but it was almost November and the weather refused to cooperate any longer. She made sure to jokingly blame you for it as often as she could, claiming if your damn bones would just heal faster she might have been able to pull it off. But once you saw how beautifully the town hall was decorated, you almost wanted to tell her she owed you one because you couldn't possibly envision anything looking better outside. Carrie and Ellie had pitched in to help, and they made a stellar team.

The altar was a repurposed garden arch trellis painted white and adorned with mostly paper flowers, considering the time of year. Apparently, some of the older kids in Ellie's art class helped to make the flowers, and they looked absolutely stunning. They used whatever material they had on hand: some tissue paper, some fabric from torn up clothes, and even some paper bags that they ended up painting and dusting with glitter. It was so impressive, you made a mental note to compliment Ellie on it later.

An old, worn rug had been rolled down the aisle with loose flower petals disbursed on top, leading up to the altar. White candlesticks were being lit behind it on the table where most of the meetings took place, a beautiful white tablecloth covering the length of it.

"It looks really great out there," you whispered to Maria, who was hiding in the bathroom, pacing nervously across the floor.

"Yeah? Are they almost ready?" she asked, eyes wide and anxious.

"They're lighting the candles now, so I'm guessing the guys will be back here any minute," you told her with a reassuring smile. "Calm down, Maria. You look absolutely beautiful. There's nothing to worry about."

"Thanks," she said quickly, but continued to pace. "What if I'm making a huge mistake? Oh my god..."

"You aren't! Stop it!" you scolded her, holding out your hands to try to stop her from moving around so much. "You and Tommy are perfect together. I promise you, once you see him, all of your nerves are going to disappear."

She looked at you, trying to force herself to calm down and listen, but her chest was still rising and falling much quicker than usual.

"Besides, it's a little late. You're having his kid," you joked, glancing down at her belly. She furrowed her brows at you for just a second before dissolving into a fit of laughter, gripping the sink to hold her up while you crouched on the ground, laughing and holding your dress up around your knees, trying to catch your breath.

"I'm sorry!" you said, wiping a tear away. "I had to!"

"I'm gonna get you back for that one day," she said, finally getting ahold of herself, still clutching her stomach. "But I needed that. Thank you."

"You're welcome. I take my job as maid of honor very seriously," you told her, giving her a fake salute.

A sharp rap on the door made both of you swivel your heads towards the sound.

"They're linin' up out here," you heard Joel's low drawl filter through the door. You glanced at Maria and grinned.

"You ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," she said, a nervous smile spreading across her face. You pulled her in for one quick hug before heading to the door. You cracked the door open and squeezed out, shutting it behind you quickly so nobody would get a sneak peek of the bride.

Joel was standing a couple feet away, fiddling with his cuffs, his back to the door. When he turned around to look at you, you could have sworn time stood still.

He was wearing a black suit and white shirt underneath, no tie per Maria's request, with the top two buttons of his shirt undone. He grinned as his eyes raked up and down your body, trying to express his appreciation over your dress, but you were still transfixed by the sight of him. You weren't sure if it was the paper boutonniere pinned to his lapel that made the difference, because you had seen him in a suit countless times in the past, or how he took the extra effort to trim his beard and style his hair, but something about the moment sent your mind into overdrive. Carrie's words from earlier in the day kept repeating in your head: why don't you ask him to marry you instead? And you were so caught up in the moment that you almost considered it. You wanted him looking like this for you. And you wanted to be nervously pacing the bathroom for him. All of a sudden, you wanted it so badly that you couldn't think about anything else.

"You look beautiful," Joel murmured, giving your cheek a quick kiss, completely oblivious. You managed to give him a shaky smile in return before curling your arm around his as he led you over to the back of the wedding party line. You stared straight ahead, vaguely listening to Jake and Carrie in front of you chatting quietly, your mind still reeling. Where did this come from? Why couldn't you have felt like this a few months ago? Why did you always have to complicate everything?

"She all set in there?" Seth asked you, his hand on the bathroom door. You nodded.

"Yep, she's ready. You can go in and get her once Tommy's gone."

You thought you had gotten yourself back on task but when Joel began to lead you down the aisle and your eyes locked with various friends and neighbors as you slowly made your way to the altar, your heart began thudding so loudly in your chest that you were sure everyone could hear it, even over the sound of Bill playing the piano to a familiar ballad you couldn't quiet name. Your grip on his arm tightened a fraction and you felt him glance over at you.

"You okay?" he whispered.

You didn't trust yourself to look at him, so you just gave a quick nod, staring straight ahead at Frank, the town's officiant. Fortunately, you were almost at the altar, so he let you go, giving you a chance to breathe. He went to stand next to Tommy, and you next to Carrie. As you turned to await Seth and Maria, your eyes found Joel's and you felt your throat tighten at the sight of him next to the beautiful archway. You might have been wrong, but you could have sworn you saw something in his eyes when he looked at you this time. His lips parted like he was suddenly short of breath and the grip he had on his left wrist tightened.

When Bill suddenly changed tunes and all the guests stood from their chairs, you dragged your eyes away from Joel, watching with a smile as Seth led Maria down the aisle. She looked a lot more confident now that she was making her way to Tommy, who was doing his best not to shed the tears that had been threatening to fall ever since he walked into the building.

You tried your best to listen to Frank, but your eyes kept drifting past Tommy and Maria and landing on Joel, who appeared to also be having a difficult time paying attention. He shifted his weight and he took a few deep breaths, but he could feel your eyes on him and he couldn't focus. He just prayed when the time came to hand over the rings, he wouldn't be completely distracted because the last thing he wanted to do was let his brother down on his big day.

Joel risked a glance in your direction when he noticed you lean down to fix Maria's dress. God, you looked so pretty. Standing there at the altar in that beautiful dress and your hair styled perfectly. If he tuned everyone out, he could pretend it was his wedding instead of Tommy's. That all these people were here to listen to the two of you profess your undying love for each other, to celebrate you committing yourselves to the other. He told you he would stop bringing it up, but something about what you said last night and now the way you looked at him today made him decide he was going to break that promise.

Luckily, he snapped out of it when he heard Frank begin to talk about the rings and what they signified, so he reached into his jacket pocket, fingers dipping into the silky material. He felt the smooth metal then paused when he realized there was only one ring in there. Wrong pocket.

He pulled his hand out and tried the other breast pocket. Sure enough, he pulled out both rings and handed them over to Tommy with a smile.

As Tommy and Maria exchanged vows, you did your best to focus on their words, putting Joel out of your mind for just a few minutes so you could be present for your best friend. But as you watched Maria slip the gold band around Tommy's finger, flashes of Joel wearing a similar ring clouded your vision and you had to look away. Fuck, what was wrong with you?

Your eyes snapped back at them when you heard the guests all clapping and cheering as they sealed the deal with their first kiss. You quickly joined in, hoping nobody noticed the delay, then leaned down to move the train of Maria's dress so she and Tommy could make their way down the aisle. You watched as they reached the end of the aisle, giving each other one more kiss and earning another chorus of cheers when suddenly you heard Joel's voice in your ear.

"We're next."

You looked up at him, eyes wide and surprised until you noticed his elbow jutted out towards you.

"Right, sorry," you said, looping your hand through his arm as you let him lead you down the aisle, hoping that you didn't look as red as you felt.

Tommy and Maria greeted guests after the ceremony in the small foyer where you had previously lined up to enter the hall. It was absolutely packed, and you quickly got lost in the shuffle. At one point, you saw Ellie with a couple of friends from school, and you had tried to make your way over to them, wanting to tell her what a great job she did on the decorations, but you had gotten stopped by one of her teachers and you lost sight of her.

"If you had the time next week, I would love to have a chat with you about Ellie's participation in class. It's nothing to be worried about, she's still acclimating, and I understand that, but she just needs to learn that there is a time and place to voice her opinions," Mrs. Baker was telling you.

"Of course, I can stop by Monday if that works?"

"That would be delightful, dear. She's a very bright girl. I just don't think the other children in class need to hear about Napoleon's explicit love letters to Joséphine."

You bit back a laugh as you forced a serious nod and furrowed your brow.

"I'll make sure to talk to her," you assured her. That seemed to finally end the conversation because Mrs. Baker smiled and turned to find her husband, right as you felt someone's familiar touch wrap around your waist from behind.

"Hey, you," you said, twisting around in Joel's arms to look up at him.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look today?" he asked, his eyes dipping down to sneak a peek at your cleavage.

"You may have mentioned it," you said, draping your arms around his neck as you gazed up at him.

His eyes drifted around the packed room before looking back down at you.

"You wanna get outta here?"

You laughed, then stopped when you realized he was serious.

"Joel, we can't-"

"We got time before the reception," he said, dipping his mouth down to plant a kiss against your bare shoulder. "Look at this place. No one'll even notice we're gone."

"What did you have in mind?" you asked him, raising an eyebrow when he straightened back up. He shrugged and tried to hide his smirk.

"Thought maybe we could finish what we started last night in the shower," he said, leaning down to whisper in your ear. You felt a jolt at your center, and even though you knew you shouldn't, you caved.

"We can't be gone long," you warned him, and he nodded before leading you by the hand through the throngs of people towards the exit.

Joel was right. Nobody even noticed you were missing. The entire town was empty, save for a few kind souls who were keeping watch at the gates as you made your way quickly back home. You had barely twisted the lock on the door when Joel's mouth was already on your neck, pressing you up against the wood, his hands greedily roaming down your sides and around the back to squeeze your ass. You giggled against his mouth and managed to break away.

"So I wasn't ready last night, but tonight I am?" you teased, backing up towards the stairs as he stalked after you.

"Yep," was all he offered, and you grinned before grabbing his hand and hauling him as quickly as you could up the steps.

He crowded you into the bedroom, his hands trying and failing to figure out how to work your dress. You waved him off and took a step back.

"Let me take this off and hang it up before you ruin it," you said with a grin. Reluctantly, he nodded, his heated gaze watching you as you made your way backwards into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you.

You hurriedly removed your dress, leaving you in just a slip over your bra and panties, and hung it on the hanger you had left over the curtain rod earlier that day. You walked over to the mirror, staring at your reflection, trying to collect your thoughts.

Maybe you should do it. Maybe you should just ask him to marry you. Would that be so awful? Maybe Carrie was onto something.

You glanced around the bathroom, looking for something that could take the place of a ring. You saw an elastic hair tie of yours sitting next to the sink and you snatched it up, wrapping it around your wrist before taking a deep breath. You could do this.

Before you lost your nerve, you swung the door open, then gasped.

Joel was waiting for you, already on bended knee with a stunning diamond ring pinched between his fingers.

He was nervous. You could tell he was doing his best to hide it, but you saw how shakily his Adam's apple bobbed in his throat when he swallowed. His eyes were all soft and wide as they looked up at you from the ground, filled with such love and hope and vulnerability that it made you want to melt to the floor next to him.

"I know I said I wasn't gonna bring this up again," he started, his voice trembling, "but I can't help it. You just looked so beautiful standin' up there today and I couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout you and me."

Your hands slowly came up to cover your mouth as your brows pinched together, trying your hardest not to cry so you could commit the moment to memory.

"I know you said you were scared. I'm scared, too. But look at what we've been through. There's nothin' we can't do when we're together," he said, taking a moment to swallow nervously as he watched you flick a stray tear away from the corner of your eye.

"My life began when the world ended," he told you after taking a deep breath, finally saying the words he rehearsed in his head a thousand times. "I've never felt like this 'bout anybody. You make me whole. You make me want to be a better man. You make me laugh and you drive me crazy and I wouldn't have it any other way."

You giggled as more tears clouded your vision.

"If you marry me, I promise I'll keep you safe. I promise I'll love you til the end of time. And I promise I'll never ask for anythin' in return because you're all I want. You're all I need."

You couldn't hold back the tears any longer. They steadily streamed down your cheeks as you sunk to the floor in front of him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him before pulling back to look at him and nodded.

"Yes, I'll marry you."

A huge grin spread across his face when he leaned forward for another urgent kiss, his hand trembling as it gripped the back of your neck. He let you go just long enough to clumsily put the ring he was holding on your finger, and you had to blink the tears away so you could get a better look at it.

"I love it," you sniffled, looking up at him earnestly as you twisted it around your finger. "How long have you had it?"

"Months. I don't even know," he admitted, the adrenaline coursing through his veins making his voice shake. You grinned and looked down at the ring again, admiring how it sparkled even in the dim light of the bedroom.

"Oh, wait!" you said, suddenly remembering something. You pulled the hair tie off your wrist and wrapped it around his own. He looked down at it, confused, before looking back up at you.

"I was about to ask you to marry me but I didn't have a ring," you said, then giggled when you saw the expression on his face. "You beat me to it."

"It's perfect," he said, looking back down at his wrist before pulling you close again. "You're perfect."

He wrapped his arms around your middle and lifted you up from the floor, grunting when he straightened his knee, and walked you backwards towards the bed while his tongue invaded your mouth hungrily. You let out a surprised squeak when he gave you a slight push, causing you to fall back onto the mattress. You bit your lip and watched as he shrugged off his suitcoat before he began working on the buttons of his shirt.

"Wait! Don't let that get wrinkled, Maria will kill you," you warned him, and he rolled his eyes with a grin before stooping down to pick up the jacket. He draped it over the back of a chair and raised his eyebrows at you for approval.

"Thank you," you told him sweetly, but he just shook his head as he pulled off his shirt, giving it the same treatment as the jacket.

"We ain't even married yet and you're already bossin' me around," he joked, making you laugh.

"I hate to tell you this, but I've always bossed you around."

He chuckled as he shed the rest of his clothes before crawling on top of you, latching his mouth onto your neck while he ground his hips into yours, the sensation taking your breath away momentarily.

"That's alright, sweetheart. You can boss me around all you want, so long as I get to boss you around in here," he murmured against your skin while his hand drifted down your side and pulled your slip up and over your head. He sat back so he could kneel between your legs, his hands dancing over your skin as he took a moment to admire your body.

"Can't believe you're all mine," he said softly, almost like he was talking to himself. "I'm the luckiest man in the world, y'know that?" he asked, glancing back up from your body to meet your eyes.

"C'mere," was all you said, beckoning him towards you with your arms. He didn't need to be told twice. He fell forward, his forearms caging you in as you pulled him into another kiss, but this time it was more deliberate. Slower, yet still forceful as you tried to express all your feelings for him into one moment.

As much as you wanted to take your time, you knew you really shouldn't be gone too long from the festivities, so you reached down between your bodies to pull down your panties while your tongues still danced together. Without even looking, his hand instantly found the aching heat between your legs. You moaned into his mouth as his fingers dragged up and down your folds, your slick audible against his skin, making you blush.

"Fuck," he whispered as he pulled away from your lips. "So wet for me. You want me that bad?" he asked, lifting himself up so he could look down and watch as his fingers slowly disappeared inside your body, making you gasp his name and clutch his shoulders.

"No," you finally managed to croak out, making his movements pause inside you as he looked back up to meet your eyes. "I need you. Not want. Need."

The corner of his mouth tilted upwards and his fingers continued to stretch you open. He could feel you clench around him when he began to move his wrist faster, but then his thumb brushed up against your clit and you let out a filthy moan and he knew it wouldn't be much longer.

"C'mon, come for me. I wanna watch my future wife fall apart on my fingers like a good girl."

"Oh fuck, Joel," you whined, squeezing your eyes shut while your nails dug into his skin. With one more flick of his thumb he sent you hurtling over the edge, the wave of heat traveling up your whole body in a matter of seconds while you fought to catch your breath and stay present.

"Oh, you like that, huh?" he said with a chuckle. He slowly removed his fingers and you felt yourself twitch from the loss. He smeared your release over the tip of his cock while you struggled to come back down to earth underneath him. "You like it when I call you my future wife? Think you came just from hearin' that alone."

"Yes," you whispered, forcing your eyes open to look at him as he lined himself up against your opening.

"Good," he replied, dropping his hand to your hip as he pushed forward, entering you slowly, drawing out another moan from your throat. He had barely given you time to recover, but it didn't matter. "'Cause I like it, too," he groaned, falling forward when his hips met yours, bottoming out inside you.

"Y'feel so good," he whined against your shoulder, his arms squeezing you so tightly that you finally realized why he wanted to wait so long after your injuries. "Christ, missed this so much."

"Me, too," you whimpered into his hair, his clutch around you not letting up. "But Joel?"

"Hm?"

"I really need you to fuck me now."

He grinned against your shoulder and tilted his head up to look at you.

"Bossy," he said while simultaneously rolling his hips, making you sigh with relief.

"You love it," you moaned, eyes sliding shut as he continued to drag his cock in and out slowly, making sure you felt every inch while he yanked down your bra so he could wrap his lips around your nipple, flicking his tongue over it with an appreciative groan.

As your hands got lost in his hair, you felt your ring swivel around your finger, a gentle reminder that this was real. After everything you put him through, he still wanted you. He never gave up. He stood by your side and waited for you to be ready, no matter how badly it may have hurt him. You pulled him close as you blinked back tears, suddenly overcome with a wave of emotion.

"What's wrong?" he asked when he picked up on your sudden mood shift, his hips still rocking into you slowly, cock dragging heavily in and out, in and out. You wrapped your legs around his waist, hooking your ankles behind him, trying to get as close as possible.

"Nothing," you assured him, your hands sliding from his hair to grip the sides of his head, pulling him down for a searing kiss. "Just love you so much," you panted when he lifted his head a fraction to examine your face. Satisfied with your answer, his mouth crashed messily over yours again.

"Love you, too," he whispered into your mouth, your little gasps swallowing his words. "Love you so fuckin' much, can't wait to make you mine. Can't wait til I can call you my wife. Fuck, you make me so happy," he rambled as his hips began moving faster, snapping against you roughly, punching the air out of your lungs.

He felt you pulse around him, drawing him in as your teeth sunk into your lip. He adored how you responded to him, especially to his words. That it turned you on to hear him talk about marrying you instead of the visceral reaction you had a few months ago. Maybe it was time that did it, or maybe it was almost losing one another, but whatever it was, he didn't care.

You whispered his name and when he looked at you, with your eyes dark and your cheeks flushed, he felt like he was falling in love all over again.

"I'm here. I got you," he mumbled, and when your thighs tensed around his middle, squeezing him to the point where he could barely move, he knew. Two tears trickled down your cheeks when you came, his name sounding like a prayer on your lips, your nails breaking the skin on his sweaty back. The little bit of pain sent him tumbling over the edge, his brain almost not catching up in time to pull out as he spilled his release all over your stomach.

He rolled over with a groan, both of you struggling to catch your breath as you stared up at the ceiling.

"Do we really gotta go back?" Joel asked after a moment, and you giggled.

"Yes! It's your brother's wedding, Joel. How would you like it if he snuck off and never came back during our wedding?"

A stupid grin stretched across his face when he heard you say the words our wedding. It felt so surreal.

"I wouldn't care 'cause I'll sneak you away first. Don't know how I'll make it through the whole night, what was I thinkin'?" he joked, and you playfully slapped his shoulder, making him chuckle before standing up with a grunt. He pulled his boxers back on before heading to the bathroom to dampen a washcloth. As his fingers tested the temperature of the water, his eyes fell on the hair tie around his wrist and he smiled.

"Y'know I'm never takin' this off, right?" he asked, holding up his wrist as he walked back into the bedroom. You made a face and shook your head as he began to clean you up.

"Please tell me you're joking. That was such a dumb idea," you said, plucking at the hair tie as you spoke.

"Not dumb. I love it," he said sincerely, giving you a hand so you could stand up and begin to get dressed. "It's like my engagement ring."

"Men don't have engagement rings," you replied, rolling your eyes.

"Well, this man does," he said defiantly. You sighed, knowing it was a losing battle.

"Whatever makes you happy," you said before giving him one more quick kiss, then headed back to the bathroom to pull your dress from the hanger. Even though you teased him for it, you secretly loved that he wanted to wear the hair tie. Like he wanted the constant reminder already that he belonged to you, and you to him.

"Okay, I won't take it off, but I have to at least turn it around so people won't notice the diamond," you told Joel as you walked up the steps of the Tipsy Bison. "I am not going to steal attention on Maria's day. Those pregnancy hormones are insane, she might kill me."

"Fine," Joel replied before opening the door for you. "But startin' tomorrow, I'm tellin' everyone."

The two of you walked into the crowded bar, pushing your way through the throngs of people laughing and drinking and some dancing to the upbeat music being played over the loudspeaker. You spotted Tommy and Maria close to the bar, surrounded by neighbors giving them their well wishes. Tommy had his arm lovingly draped over Maria's shoulders with a whiskey in his other hand, and she had an unconscious hold on her stomach as she smiled and laughed at something Mrs. Potter said.

"Hey, there's Ellie," Joel said in your ear, drawing your eyes from the newlyweds. You smiled when you saw Ellie with another girl across the bar, sitting closely together on top of a table, their legs swinging over the edge as they spoke.

"Let's go see her, I wanted to tell her what a great job she did on the decorations."

You took Joel's hand and led him through the crowd, and just when you were a couple feet away from her, about to call out her name, she leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss against the other girl's lips. You stopped short, stunned, but your presence must have been noticeable because she pulled back immediately, eyes wide and cheeks red as her gaze darted between you and Joel, panic written all over her face. She slid down from the table quickly and you could see the hurt that flickered across the girl's face when Ellie tried to put distance between them.

"Uh, hey," she said nervously. "It's not what-"

"Ellie, relax," you replied, cutting her off. "It's okay." You looked back at Joel. He still looked surprised but he was doing his best to collect himself. "We didn't know you were seeing anybody," you said, turning back to her. Ellie looked over her shoulder at the other girl, who appeared to be incredibly uncomfortable. She held her hand out after a moment, and the girl gave her a shy smile before taking it and jumping down from the table to stand next to her.

"Guys, this is Dina," Ellie said proudly, pulling her closer. Dina smiled and gave a small wave. "Dina, these are..." she trailed off, not really sure what to call you. You were about to rescue her and just tell Dina your names when Ellie spoke first.

"These are my parents."

You whipped your head in her direction, completely taken aback. You felt Joel grip your hand tightly and without even looking at him, you knew he was having the same reaction as you.

"Is that... okay?" she asked after a moment, suddenly feeling vulnerable. You quickly nodded and fought back the tears that threatened to spill down your cheeks.

"Yeah," you said breathlessly after swallowing the lump in your throat. "Dina, it's so great to meet you," you said, turning to the dark haired girl with a smile.

You heard Joel say something similar, his voice also thick with emotion, but you barely registered what he said. Your head was spinning with the life changing events from the past hour, completely overwhelmed with how everything turned out. Just a few short months ago, you were afraid you were going to lose everything, and now here you were, surrounded by your family, about to start out on a new chapter of your lives together.

"There you are!" you heard Maria's voice ring out over the music. You moved aside, standing closer to Ellie and Dina so you could make room for Tommy and Maria.

"Sorry! I had... a problem with my dress. I had to run home for a minute," you said, the lie rolling off your lips. You could see the look in her eye. She wanted to question you, but considering Ellie was standing right there, she let it go.

"It's fine. All you missed was everyone doing shots while I stood there drinking lemonade, having just as much fun," she said sarcastically, and Tommy chuckled at her side.

"Speaking of - let's get you both somethin' to drink," Tommy said, nodding his head towards the bar.

"Can I have a drink?" Ellie asked. You and Joel turned your heads towards her and at the exact same time, giving her a resounding no!

She rolled her eyes but exchanged a mischievous look with Dina when suddenly, your own teenage years began flooding back to you and you realized there was a pretty good chance she would get that drink, anyway.

"C'mon," Maria said, reaching for your hand as Joel took a step closer to Tommy, the two of them discussing their very strong opinions about the music choice. "I wanna show you-"

She stopped speaking and stared at you like she saw a ghost. The smile melted from your face as your brows furrowed, suddenly concerned.

"Are you okay?" you asked, glancing down at her stomach, but then you felt her hand clench yours tighter, the pad of her finger rubbing up against the diamond you had twisted around towards your palm. Your eyes shot back up to hers and you felt your ears turning red.

"Maria-"

"Are you fucking kidding me?!"

Her voice was so loud, you were surprised it didn't draw more attention. You felt the heat spreading to your cheeks and you glanced nervously at Joel, who was still trying to figure out the reason for her outburst.

You shook your head and grabbed her arm with your other hand, trying to shush her and explain quietly.

"It's your day, I'm not saying anything, don't worry!" you began, trying to ease her mind, but a smile just broke out across her face and you finally realized her exclamation was not one of anger, but excitement.

She looked at you, her eyes filling with tears, before looking over at Joel and Tommy. Joel finally seemed to figure it out and he slowly grinned, but Tommy continued to look confused.

Maria yanked your hand up and twisted your ring around so the diamond was showing, and you heard Ellie gasp next to you.

"Holy shit!" Ellie said excitedly, while Maria squealed and jumped in place before pulling you into a tight hug.

"We're gonna be sisters," she said softly in your ear, and you giggled, holding her tightly against you as you swayed back and forth. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Tommy pull Joel into a hug and gave him a firm clap on the back, then Ellie bounced over to do the same.

"When?" Maria asked, finally pulling back to look at the ring again.

"Um, like an hour ago?" you guessed, your hand shaking as you held it out for her to inspect.

Suddenly, Ellie's arms were wrapped around you, and Maria dropped your hand so you could return the hug. You buried your face in Ellie's hair as you watched Maria give Joel a kiss on the cheek.

"Congrats," Ellie said when she pulled away.

"Yeah, congrats!" Dina added, and you laughed as you thanked them both.

"I knew it when I saw the way Joel looked at you that very first day in that meeting," Tommy said, and you broke away from Ellie to give him a hug.

"God, that was ages ago," you said with a laugh, but he just shook his head.

"Yeah, but I know my brother. He don't fall too easy, and you knocked him on his ass in a minute," Tommy said, pulling back with a kiss on your cheek.

Tommy insisted the good news called for shots, so he led you and Joel up to the bar and ordered three shots of tequila. While you waited, you felt Joel's hand around your waist and his lips against your ear.

"Is it bad that I already wanna take you back home?"

You grinned and turned around in his arms.

"We just got here," you said, tugging playfully at the lapels on his jacket. He gave you a look that made your knees weak and you felt your resolve crumbling. "Just a few dances and maybe we can sneak away."

He grinned, pleased with the compromise as Tommy held out the shot glasses to you both.

The three of you clinked your glasses together before downing the shots, wincing as the alcohol burned your throat on the way down.

Seth's voice shouted over the crowd that it was time for the first dance. You watched, Joel's arms wrapped around you from behind, as Tommy led Maria to the middle of the dance floor while a Johnny Cash song played over the loudspeakers. After a minute, Tommy and Maria waved their arms out to the crowd, encouraging couples to join them.

"Wanna dance?" Joel asked, his breath tickling your neck. You nodded and his arms dropped from your waist as you led him to the dance floor.

With one hand around the back of his neck and the other firmly in his grip, he led you slowly, his eyes drinking you in as you gazed up at him lovingly.

After everything you had been through, everything you both endured, you were exactly where you were meant to be: right in his arms. His strong, capable arms that would move mountains for you. That have done unspeakable acts to save you. That have cradled you and cared for you and brought you back to life, in more ways than one.

And as he held you close, you wondered how on earth you could ever have doubted what you have. Because Joel was right: there was nothing you couldn't do, as long as you were together.

A/N: I know I will probably get questions about it so I will just leave this here: I purposely left the option for children open ended. You can choose your own adventure ❤️

Tag List @nana90azevedo @ninaminaromina @untamedheart81 @taz-97 @nastiasnow @amyispxnk @plz-be-solo @iloveramensm @caitlynsixxx @anoverwhelmingdin @harriedandharassed @jessthebaker @txtattoostark @merz-8 @sarahhxx03 @oscarissac2099 @motherjoel @silas-222 @b3l1nd5 @rocket-raccoon-silvie @missladym1981 @angie2274 @maried01 @ashleyfilm @alltheotps @mybworlds @d1lf-loverrr

[nolita-fairytale]

it's perfect, chef | carmy berzatto x fem!reader | bonus smut scene from 'still into you'

summary: carmy surprises you with a ring & an engagement dinner, but you're not hungry yet. bonus scene that takes place after the last chapter of 'still into you' sunday (you'll want to read this first)

warnings: fluff, engagement smut, swearing, 18+ only

wordcount: 3.9k

a/n: here is the long-awaited bonus engagement smut that i owe @carmensberzattos. i think this is the spiciest smut scene i've written them yet. also, hypothetically, if i wrote some cute fluffy shit about them getting married/planning... would you read that? y/n?

(^^ this is NOT an amatriciana BUT this scene is 'chef' is the same energy so it felt right.)

And you think to yourself, that maybe, this was always how it was supposed to be.

You can’t stop smiling.

Your eyes flicker from the ring on your finger to where Carmy stands over the stove. He’s put his apron back on, very serious about this engagement dinner he’s got planned for you. You watch as Carmy begins pulling the sauce together, giving the pan a shake over the gas burner in your shared apartment. Carmy uses the wooden spoon to evenly distribute the onion and guanciale mixture across the bottom of the pan once more. 

It’s perfect, really, that he’s decided to make you an amatriciana for your engagement night. The man knows you love a Roman pasta, and you love that they’ve managed to play such a special part in your love story. 

You glance back down at your phone, seeing a slew of messages in your group chat with Syd and Sugar, in response to the picture of the ring you snapped earlier:

Sugar: HE DID IT!!! HE GAVE YOU THE RING!

Syd: We did good, huh?

Sugar: You’re welcome ;)

Syd: It really is a beautiful ring. We love you!!!! Go enjoy your night, but spare us the details please. 

You’re so focused on your group text with Sugar and Syd that you don’t notice how close Carmy hasn’t gotten to where you’re perched on top of the kitchen island.

“Health code violation, don’t you think?” he teases you, giving your thigh a little squeeze.

You look up from your phone, letting out a small laugh as you lock eyes with your now fiance. While grabbing the bowl of tomato passata, he maintains eye contact, the smallest smirk on his face as he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. 

Carmy takes a few steps away from where you sit, causing your heart to beat a hell of a lot faster. That can’t be all he came over here for you, could it?

“Good thing our place is not a restaurant then,” you reply, your gaze following him as he returns to the stove.

Even though he’s gone back to cooking, Carmy’s touch lingers on your skin. You can still feel the pads of his fingers along your inner thigh and you’re not sure if you’re ever going to get your heart rate back down. You clear your throat in an attempt to collection yourself before offering:

“Need any help?”

Your ears fill with the sound of the tomato sauce hitting the searing hot pan as Carmy responds, “I got this babe.”

He steals a glance your way, before giving the sauce a shake in the pan. You swallow, watching as his forearm muscles flex prominently as he grips the hand of the saucier. He swirls the pan a few times, creating an emulsion of the ingredients inside, and it suddenly feels five degrees hotter in the room. You’re like a moth transfixed by a flame as you hop off of the kitchen island, taking a few steps to where he stands. 

“Can I at least watch, then?” you ask, suggestively.  

A smile spreads across Carmy’s lips as he feels your hand snake around his waist, your fingertips dipping underneath the hem of his shirt. He hisses in response to your touch, as your fingertips hit the hard planes of his abdomen. 

“Baby…” he sighs out, a smirk on his face as you press your forehead against his shoulder. “What’re you up to?”

“Nothin’,” you answer innocently, even though there’s not a single innocent intention behind this. You bite down on his shoulder blade gently, earning another laugh from his lips. 

He chuckles, “Doesn’t feel like nothin’.” 

You giggle, “Just testing your focus, is all.” 

You pull away from him almost instantly, pulling off to his left side. You press your back against the counter, leaning up against it as you watch what he’s doing. As Carmy leans over the stovetop, reaching for the salt crock towards the back of the stove, you can’t help but notice the newly exposed skin the hem of his shirt has revealed. 

Did his perfect vintage jeans always sit that low on his hips? 

Down girl… you remind yourself. 

“You tell Sugar and Syd yet?” Carmy asks, changing the subject. 

“Yeah. They’re very excited that you gave me the ring,” you reply, trying to distract yourself. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. We have a group text, actually.”

“Uh oh,” Carmy sounds, shooting you another look. 

You smile wickedly before reassuring him, “Nothing to worry about it. They’re happy you finally, and I quote, did it right.”

“You three in a group text? Got nothin’ to worry about. Sure,” he replies with a playful eye roll, completely unconvinced that this group text is nothing to worry about. 

“I thought maybe we could call Liz and Maya after dinner. Or maybe tomorrow depending on what we get up to tonight,” you suggest. 

“Oh yeah?” Carmy replies, a hint of amusement in his ask. 

He knows exactly what he’s doing. He knows he’s winding you up, teasing you till you’re begging for him to fuck you. And you hate that you love it so much. 

Carmy leans towards you, his piercing blue eyes holding your gaze for a moment, watching you squirm. 

“I uh-, need to get a spoon,” he says, gesturing towards the drawer you’re standing in front of. His lips are inches away from yours and you forget to breathe for a second. 

His lips practically ghost over yours when you don’t move and you have to admit that you're so turned on by this little game of cat and mouse. But you’re not going to let him win. Not yet. You bite back a moan, nodding your head and stepping aside, murmuring a ‘sure.’ 

You run a hand through your hair, trying to calm yourself down. Carmy grabs a spoon, returning to where he’s planted himself in front of the stove. He dips the spoon into the sauce to taste for seasoning, and you can see the gears turning in his head. 

“A little more salt,” he murmurs to himself, before adding another pinch. 

“Can I try?” you ask, bold enough to get close to him again. 

You’re not sure if you’ll have the self-control to resist him, but you’re not sure you’ll care by then. 

He laughs dryly, dipping the spoon back into the sauce. 

“Let me know what you think, chef,” he replies, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. He holds the spoon out as you open your mouth to taste. He doesn’t look away and neither do you, until the tangy, salty tomato sauce hit your tongue. 

Fuck. 

You close your eyes, shaking your head in disbelief. 

“It’s perfect, chef,” you answer, opening your eyes. 

Carmy smiles smugly in response. 

Because he knows it is. 

Because he knows he has you right where he wants you.

The only thing that could rip him away from you in this moment is the sound of the pot of water he has on the stovetop coming up to a boil. It feels near-impossible to rip his attention away from you, but he does, throwing handfuls of salt into the stock pot, with his deli container of dried rigatoni following.

He sets a timer, before stirring the pasta water a few times.

You’re hungry. Sure. But between his perfect amatriciana and this little game you’ve been playing, you’re not sure you can wait any longer. 

Dinner will just have to wait. 

“Carm?” you ask, your voice coming out breathier than you anticipated. 

“Hm?” he hums in response, completely satisfied with just how worked up he’s gotten you. 

“I… need your help with something,” you drag out, as he turns to you. 

“Yeah?” he asks, coyly. 

“Yeah,” you answer. 

Using your left hand, that left hand, you pull him towards you so that he’s dangerously close to you now. Your eyes flicker from his eyes to his lips before reaching up to press your lips to his. Carmy kisses you with the confidence of a man that knows he’s got you in the palm of his hand, pulling you in towards him for more. 

“This what you need help with?” he asks, as you feel his lips twist into a smile against yours. 

“Yeah,” you answer, in between sucking on his top lip. 

“It’s just…” you start innocently, tugging his hand to follow you. “Nat and I had some snacks right before I got back. Didn’t know my very sexy chef fiance would be here making me dinner and asking me to marry him again.”

In between kisses you manage to continue backing the two of you up against the kitchen island now.

“Think I need a little help working up an appetite.”

You hear him laugh against your lips, before turning his head towards the stove. 

“But what about the pasta?” he teases, cockily. 

You pull away for a moment, and with a shake of your head you reply, “You’re such a fucking asshole.”

Carmy laughs again before grabbing you back the back of your head, pulling you deeper into the kiss. In an instant he’s hoisting you up onto the kitchen island so that you’re seated there once again, nudging your legs open to make space for him. 

“You set a timer right?” you manage to ask, wrapping your legs around his waist. You run your hands down his chest as Carmy’s eyes follow, focused on the engagement ring he’s just put on your finger. 

Fuck it. 

The pasta can wait. 

“Yeah, but that means we got ten minutes,” he finally answers, looking up at you. 

You smirk, satisfied, “That’s plenty of time.”

He can’t believe this is real. 

He can’t believe he deserves this, and yet, you make him feel like he does. 

He grabs your hands to stop them, before focusing all of his attention on your left hand. He looks down, focused on your body and everything he wants to do to you. 

His fiance. 

His future wife. 

His Mrs. Carmen Berzatto. 

“This what you want, pretty girl?” Carmy rasps, kissing your ring finger. 

You watch as he bows he head to you, his mouth leaving slow kisses up your arm. He’s gentle in the way that his lips brush against the tattoo on your forearm, and then into the crevice of your elbow. You sigh as he drags his lips up your bicep and your shoulder, before burying his face into the space between your shoulder and your neck. 

“This what you need help with?” he asks you again, his voice low and sultry. 

“Yes, baby,” you whimper, as he leaves a gentle bite on your neck. His tongue snakes out, quick to soothe the sting of his teeth, and you’re leaning your head back, offering up more of yourself to him.

Carmy’s hands trace up your thighs, tugging on your hips so that they press up against his. You grind your hips against his denim clad hips, searching for any kind of friction you can get. With the movement of your hips, Carmy chuckles confidently. He knows he’s dragging this out, teasing you for distracting him and possibly ruining his flawless amatriciana with your desire for him. 

Finally, finally, he crashes his lips into yours again, letting out a groan as surrenders to his own desire. Your hands are everywhere: in his hair, wrapping around his shoulders, grasping greedily at his back as he bucks his hips between your legs. 

“Wanna move this to the bedroom?” you pant, in between kisses. 

“Nah,” Carmy smirks in response, watching your face twist into a look of confusion. But he can’t deny you for too long, his next words sending you into a frenzy. 

He grabs a handful of your hair before whispering against your lips, “I wanna take you right here.”

“Carmen,” you gasp in surprise, feeling him pull on your hair. 

“In all the kitchens we’ve worked in together,” he starts, fire in the way his voice sounds. “Can’t believe we’ve never done this.”

“Think that’d definitely be a health code violation,” you tease him, before bucking your hips against his. You can feel how hard he is, if the tent in his pants and progressively tight-feeling jeans wasn’t enough. 

“Think about that a lot, Carm? Hoisting me up over my prep station in the middle of my mise and taking me right there?”

“Fuck yes,” he groans, feeling you bite into his chest. 

He gives you a half smile, before he’s untying his apron, throwing it somewhere on the kitchen floor. He returns to you in an instant, and you’re practically ripping his t-shirt from his body along with yours. Your mouth is on his again, your tongues tangling in a dance for dominance. Carmy’s hand is in your hair, his hips pressed against yours, and he’s laying you back on the kitchen counter. 

He thanks his past-self for cleaning up earlier. He’d hate to have to break any of your favorite ceramics by shoving them off of the kitchen island, his mind completely clouded with his need to consume you. He lets himself get lost in the heated makeout. He loves the little noises you make, the way your skin tastes underneath his tongue when he kisses your neck, the way you run your fingers through his curls as you whine his name. 

“Baby,” you sigh as his mouth moves from your neck to your breasts. 

Carmy’s pulling one of the cups of your bra down, exposing your right breast. 

“Fuck,” you gasp, as you feel his tongue snake out to draw circles around your nipple, causing your to arch your back. He’s hard at work, earning moans from you with his mouth pressed against one of your nipples when the timer for the pasta goes off, interrupting you.

“Fuck!” he practically shouts. 

“Shit.”

You laugh, flattening your back against the kitchen counter before sitting up. Carmy looks so upset that it’s almost funny. He swears again before returning to the stovetop. He’s quick to use a mesh sieve to pull the rigatoni noodles out of the boiling pot of water and into the saucier. You laugh again, watching him, because of course he can’t help himself. 

“You okay, Carm?” you tease him. 

He shoots you a playful glare, shaking the pan a few times. After giving the pasta a few tosses in the pan, he’s practically slamming the stainless steel pan down on the stovetop, flicking both burners off, before returning to you. 

“Now where were we?” he asks, his voice gruff with lust. 

You’re more than happy to pick up where you left off. 

“I think somewhere around here,” you say, pulling your bra off in one swift motion. 

“Jesus,” Carmy groans again, his hands moving up to your breasts. 

“And I think… you had me on my back,” you say flirtatiously, as you lay back over the kitchen island. 

“Fuck, babe,” he hisses, his hands snaking up and down your torso. “Mine.”

“Yours,” you confirm as he glides his hands over you. 

And he’s back to work, consuming you with his mouth and tongue as you arch your back off of the kitchen island. You let out the most surprised gasp as Carmy practically yanks your shorts off, tossing them and the pair of panties you’re wearing onto the floor to join the rest of your discarded clothes. 

Carmy takes his time, leaving kisses and love bites along your inner thighs, and you know this is payback. He has you breathless, dripping wet and squeezing around nothing before he’s even put his mouth on you. He’s got you so wound up that when he finally licks a broad stripe up your core, you’re screaming his name loud enough for the neighbors to hear. He’s gotten so damn good at this over the years. It’s not that he’s ever been bad at it… but the way he’s memorized everything you like, what makes you tug at his hair when he’s between your legs like this, what makes you come undone, has you cumming faster than you ever thought you could. 

Carmy’s got one hand palming at your breasts while the other holds your opposite leg open as he eats you out. Your legs are practically shaking as you cum, and he’s not letting you go anywhere. Not letting you have a single moment of relief as his tongue works you over, his fingers buried deep inside of you. 

“Holy shit, Carm,” you sigh, trying your best to catch your breath. 

He finally looks up at you, his mouth wet with your slick as he wipes it against the back of his hand. 

“Don’t think I’m done with you,” he promises, his eyes locked in a gaze with yours. 

Before you can pull yourself together, he’s wrapped your legs around his waist, and he’s dragging you off the kitchen counter and over to the couch. You want nothing more than to ride him as he lays you down on the couch, hovering over you. You watch as he removes his jeans and briefs, stepping out of them. You swear your heart skips a beat as you see his erection standing hard against his abdomen. 

“Let me ride you,” you beg, sitting up on the couch. You reach for him, wrapping a hand around his dick, earning a hiss from him at the feel of your soft hand. 

“I don’t think so, sweetheart,” he smirks, because he has other ideas. He makes his way down to the couch with you, moving you so that you’re on top of him. “Not yet at least.”

You shoot him a look of confusion as you straddle him, before letting out a yelp as he moves you up his body. You practically have to catch yourself on the edge of the couch with his movements, as soon as you realize what he’s doing. Carmy’s got you straddling his face, wrapping an arm around your waist, so that he can taste you again. You’re so sensitive from your last orgasm that you cry out as he pulls you down against his mouth. 

“Carmy, I can’t-. I-, I’m too sensitive,” you wince, feeling his tongue move over your clit in feverish circles. 

He shakes his head, earning another moan from you as you feel the drag of his mouth against you. You try to sit up, try to pull away, but he must’ve known you’d try something like this as the arm wrapped around your waist catches you from moving any further. 

“Nuh uh,” he tuts, scolding you as he holds you in place. “You said you wanted me to help, sweet girl. So I’m helping.” 

You know it’s no use, as those are the last words you hear him say before he’s pulling you down to him again, his mouth and tongue back on you. You feel the tip of his nose bump against your clit, and you’re begging him to make you cum again, surrendering to the beautiful, pleasurable torture he insists on inflicting on you. Carmy’s hands move to your ass, keeping you pressed against him as he works you over, refusing to let up.

Two can play at this game, you decide. 

You bring your fingertips up to your mouth, sucking them for a moment to gather enough saliva, before reaching back behind you. Your wet fingertips meet his hard cock, aching to be touched. With your back arched, you use your saliva and his precum to stroke his length, earning a groan from Carmy against you. You can feel him bucking up into the hand you’ve wrapped around him, moaning against you as you continue to ride his face. The vibrations are too much as another orgasm rips through your body, as you let out another sob of pleasure. 

Satisfied, Carmy finally releases you, and you’re not sure how you manage to hold yourself up over him. Breathless, he slides you down his body, your knees straddling his hips as you kiss him. You can taste yourself on his mouth, as you drop your hips, dragging your pussy against his hard on. 

“Fuck, babe,” he groans, because you feel too fucking good. 

“You gonna let me ride you yet?” you ask, your voice low and sultry. 

“Please,” he replies, his pupils completely blown out in pure lust. 

Your knees dig into the couch as you sit tall, grabbing his thick cock before guiding him into you. You both gasp at first contact, and the way he feels inside of you sends chills down your spine. You start to move your hips slowly, grinding against him as Carmy closes his eyes in pleasure. 

He’s enjoying this too much. 

And he gets to do it forever. 

With you. 

With one hand on his chest, bracing yourself, you begin to speed up the motion of your hips. Carmy lets out another moan, bucking his hips up into you. You close your eyes, throwing your head back in pleasure when you feel the slightest pressure on your neck as a tattooed hand wraps around your throat. You moan, beginning to fuck yourself faster on your boyfriend. 

With a groan, Carmy sits up straight, both arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer. The change in angle makes your eyes roll back as he begins to thrust up into you with a fervor you’ve been wanting all night. 

The room is filled with the sounds of the kitchen overhead fan, the sounds of slapping skin, and both of your moans as he pushes you closer to your third orgasm. 

“Jesus Christ, baby. You feel so good,” he murmurs, lost in pleasure. “Always feel so good. Like you were made for me.”

“I love you,” you whisper back, tangling your left hand with his right. 

Carmy glances over to your ring, then back to you, his eyes trained on yours as he explores this deeper angle. 

“I’m gonna come, pretty girl. Shit,” he swears, his thrusts becoming more and more desperate. 

“Me too, Carmy. Fuck… make me come again,” you beg him. 

You let him fuck you till you’re squeezing around him, gripping his shoulders, with your face buried in his neck as he follows suit. Carmy grunts, filling you up, pausing the motion of his hips while he’s still inside of you. You pull back with a sigh, trying to catch your breath as you brace yourself on his shoulders.

He leans in, planting one more kiss to your lips, a fucked out grin stuck on his face. 

“Hungry now?”

You laugh, “Absolutely.”

*

Carmy fills two pasta bowls with a sigh, using a microplane to grate over more cheese for garnish. 

“Doubt it’ll be al dente but…” Carmy apologizes with a shrug, though he’s not sorry that you took a much needed sex break. 

Still shirtless, you watch your boyfriend move towards you, bowl of pasta and a fork in hand. He’s slipped on a pair of sweatpants while you wear one of his old Original Chicagoland Beef t-shirts you found in the clean pile of clothes. 

He hands the bowl to you, where you sit on the kitchen island once again, a smirk on his face as he remembers what transpired here moments ago. 

You dig your fork into a rigatoni noodle, before raising it to your lips and taking a bite. Instantly, you’re met with the taste of what you swear could be the world’s most perfect amatriciana, even if the noodles are cooked past al dente. You can tell he’s watching you, searching for a reaction as you close your eyes with a groan. 

By the time you open your eyes again, a stupid smile plastered to your face, all you say to Carmy is:

“It’s perfect, chef.”

*

taglist: @allthefandomstogether @gaysludge @sobshoney @harrysmatcha @starbritestarlite @tpwkkmila @cool-girl-is-hot @nunya7394 @galaxyprincess51-blog @carmensberzattos @blue-weekends @rexorangecouny @ridingthehotmessexpress @the-nursery@strawberryalicia @astronautelilanded @veryplatoniccircunstances @fonteyn @hlkwrites

[sissylittlefeather]

Introducing...

A Very Quiet Life

A/N: this is an AU in which Elvis is your next door neighbor in the suburbs in the mid-late '60s. I have three parts completed and more in the works, so hang on for some chapters!

I hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: The reader is a widow. That's about it. It's pretty fluffy, but don't worry. The smut is coming 😈

Song inspo:

Gif inspo (this is how I picture him in this one)

The little house is perfect for your family of 3. You stand and look at it from where you've just gotten out of your car. The white siding and blue shutters are exactly what you wanted. You'll have to get a lawnmower, though, because the yard is already a little wild.

"Mama, can we get out and see?" Your 7-year-old daughter, Jane, calls from her place on the backseat. Your 5-year-old son, Michael, is knocking on the window. The sound of the kids pulls you out of your daydream about how many wonderful memories you'll make there together. You turn around and let them both out of the car. They run up to the front door and you decide to unload the car later. The movers have already gotten all the furniture and big boxes into the house. When you open the front door, you have a soft pang in your heart as you think of how your husband had carried you across the threshold at your old apartment. Now that he's gone, you'll have to carry yourself. You walk in and go to the kitchen to start unpacking. You're excited to make this into a home. This little house is your pride and joy. Between your husband's army death benefits and your part time job typing in an office, you were finally able to save up for the house. Now it's yours and you can't wait to live here and have a real future. Since your husband died, you feel like you've been in a holding pattern. However, it's been almost 4 years, and you're ready to live again.

As you unpack glasses into the cabinet, something catches your eye out the window over the sink. The window looks into your neighbor's front yard. It's beautifully manicured and you can see why. There's a man out there cutting the grass. A very attractive man, you think to yourself. His dark hair is wet with sweat and his white t-shirt sticks to his broad chest, revealing a manly and strong physique. When he pushes the mower, his muscles flex and the veins in his forearm are visible. His skin is tanned from working outside, probably on the lawn. You don't even notice you're biting your lower lip until he looks up in the direction of your window. You gasp and drop the glass you were holding in the sink.

Can he see you?

Thankfully, the glass doesn't break and you're able to pick it up quickly and go back to what you were doing. When you take a chance and look back out the window, you see that he's shaking his head and smiling, looking down at the mower. His smile almost takes your breath away. You wonder if he's smiling because he saw you or because of something else. Deciding it must be something else, you turn and go back to unpacking boxes in the kitchen. Your neighbor is a lucky woman.

******

You smooth Michael's hair and brush some crumbs off of his front. Then, you straighten Jane's hair ribbon.

"Now, remember to smile. We want our neighbors to like us." You coo to the children just before you knock on the front door of your neighbor's house. You've been in your new home for three days, so it seems like the right time to get to know the people around you. On your right is Mrs. Pottsboro, an older lady with several cats. She was very kind and appreciative of the cookies you brought. She also volunteered to watch the children if you need her to, which is an offer you won't forget. Directly across the street are the Walters, a family of five with kids around the same ages as yours. You enjoyed a nice conversation with them while the kids munched on cookies and ran around the yard. Now, you are at the house to your left. As you knock, you briefly remember the man you saw mowing the lawn. You've seen him a couple of times since then, getting the paper and watering the grass. You really need to meet his wife and put a stop to the things you've been thinking about him.

The door opens and it feels like a ton of bricks has landed in your stomach. It's him. After a few seconds of standing there smiling like an idiot, him trying to suppress a smirk, you clear your throat and speak.

"Hi! I'm y/f/n y/l/n and this is Jane and Michael." You touch the kids on their heads as you say their names. "We just moved in next door, so we wanted to stop by and say hello and give you these." You hold out a plate of chocolate chip cookies.

"Thank you. Why don't you all come on in?" His voice is warm and the southern accent makes it sound honey-smooth. You start to sweat a little, standing on the porch. He takes the plate of cookies and gestures for you all to come in. When you pass him, you catch a wave of his scent and it's warm and masculine, like his body seems to be. A part of you longs to smell it closer, but then reality slams into you like a freight train when his wife rounds the corner.

"Oh, hello!" She's petite and blonde, with her hair twisted into a tight bun.

"Beth, our new neighbors are here. They brought us cookies." He smiles warmly at you and holds the cookies up for her to see.

"That's so sweet! Unfortunately, we don't eat sugar." She grabs the plate and tries to hand it back to you. He intercepts it.

"She doesn't eat sugar. I do." She makes a tight-lipped smile, her eyes overly bright.

"Right. Well, thank you." She walks out of the room, leaving you and your kids with him. He bends down to be face-level with your kids.

"You guys want to help me eat these?" They both smile and nod their heads, taking a cookie from the plate that he holds out to them. He seems to be enlivened by their presence, asking them questions about the new house and their new school. They respond to him easily, comfortable with him instantly.

"Does your daddy like the new house?" He asks innocently, looking up at you.

"Oh--" you try to cut in, but Jane beats you to it.

"--our daddy is gone. He died a while back. It's just us now." His face changes to a look of deep sympathy.

"I'm so sorry to hear that, Jane." He looks up at you but keeps talking like he's talking to her. "If you or your mama ever need a man to do anything around the house, you just let me know. I'm right next door." Michael jumps in.

"Mister, I'm the man of the house now. I can take care of mama and Jane."

"Of course!" He smiles. "I bet you do a great job, too. If you ever need a bigger man, you come get me, okay?" He does a little fake punch on Michael's chin. Michael nods in agreement.

"Yes sir, Mr...?"

"Presley. Elvis Presley. Pleased to meet you." He shakes Michael's hand and kisses Jane's lightly. You have to shake yourself a bit to remember that you should leave.

"Alright, kiddos, we've bothered Mr. Presley long enough. Let's go back home." You try to usher the kids toward the door. As you walk out, he turns to you.

"It's really no problem at all, ma'am. I like kids. And I'm serious, if you need anything, let me know." He winks and you almost melt into a puddle on his front porch.

"Thank you, Mr. Presley."

"Elvis, please."

"Thank you, Elvis." It feels strange to call him by his first name, but since he insists, you oblige. He closes the door behind you and you take the hands of both kids and walk back to your own house.

******

You're doing dishes a few days later, looking out at your crazy yard compared to your neighbors' perfect one. For a second, you consider asking Mr. Presley to come mow it for you. But you don't want to inconvenience him. He was so kind to you and the children when you were there. His wife wasn't much to smile at, being almost cold in her refusal to talk to them. To be honest, you've thought of inviting him over several times. You've even considered breaking something just to have him come fix it, but you also know how bizarre and wrong that would be. You finish the dishes, get the kids ready for school and head to your job at the office.

******

After work, you drive up to the house, excited for the hour of free time you have before you have to pick up the kids. To your surprise, most of the yard is mowed. You're trying to figure out how that happened when you spot him. It's Elvis. He's out there mowing your yard without even being asked. As you walk up to the door, he turns and waves to you. You mouth "thank you" and walk inside the front door. You need to do something to show him that you're thankful for what he's doing. In the kitchen, you whip up some sweet tea and pour two glasses. By the time you get them on a tray and to the front porch, he's finished mowing the lawn. He's sweating again, T-shirt tight on his shoulders.

"Would you like some tea?" You ask shyly.

"I would, ma'am, thank you." He walks up on the porch and takes the glass from the tray.

"You don't have to call me ma'am. You can call me y/n."

"Oh, well, thank you y/n." He smiles and you feel yourself tense up. He's standing close enough to you that you catch the earthy smell of his sweat mixed with deodorant or aftershave or something manly. It's intoxicating. He's intoxicating. He takes a deep swig of his tea and then looks at you.

"Do you mind if I use your bathroom?" It seems like a strange request, since his house is so close, but you don't seem to be capable of telling him no. You lead him into the house to the small guest bath. When he comes out, he walks over to where you're standing in the kitchen, trying not to be too obvious about waiting for him.

"You didn't have to do that." You gesture to the yard.

"I know. But I wanted to. I was serious about you letting me know if you need any help." He smiles warmly.

"Kids still at school?" He looks around the house, seeming almost disappointed that they aren't there.

"Yes. I'll pick them up soon. I just come home a bit early to have an hour of quiet before I go get them." He nods and you suddenly realize that you're alone with him in your house. Your mind goes wild with daydreams of him laying you down on the couch and having his way with you.

"Well, thank you for the tea. I should be getting back." You nod and head for the door.

Before you can get there though, you feel a hand on your wrist. You look up into his face for half a second before he presses his lips against yours. You should pull away. You should stop him. But you don't. Instead you go limp and let him wrap his arms around your waist. The kiss is a sweet one, with no tongue or anything. He just holds you there with his mouth pushed into yours. When he finally pulls back, you feel like a rag doll in his arms. You desperately want him to keep kissing you, but he doesn't. Instead, he unravels his arms from around you and heads for the door. He mumbles a quick apology and disappears before you can say anything else.

You haven't felt this alive in years.

******

Chapter 2 coming soon!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Taglist: @itlover8000 @deniseinmn @elvisalltheway101

Want to be added to the Taglist? Let me know!

[tetheredfeathers]

My favourite post Mockingjay fics

@notafraidtodissapear since you asked 💕

One shots

making a blank page bloom: drabble collection by songbirdheart

A writer I have discovered recently, I cannot emphasize how much I love her writing. If an angel could write it would be her. This fic is sweet and short. Katniss sings her poem to Peeta.

eden by songbirdheart

Another one by the same author. Can you tell how obsessed I am?!!? Dw you'll understand her genius when you read it. A poem about everlark growing back together.

What's In A Name? by Joshs_left_earlobe

Everlark's first fight, lots of fluff and angst.

Fighting the Rain by starsmahogany (Jodalyn)

Cute fluffy fic of Peeta taking care of Katniss after she comes homes soaked from the rain.

The Unexpected Message by Diana_Flynn

Years after the war has ended Katniss has a fight with Peeta, but she finds an a gift that changes her perspective.

Multi chapter fics.

Baby Steps by Ronja

Growing back together/pregnancy fic, goes back and forth between her pregnancy and their initial growing back post war. Delves into some of the political aspects of Panem, and Katniss and Peeta's involvement. Enjoyed reading this alot.

When the Red X is on the Door By: MADAM BETH

A growing back that fixates more on Peeta's episodes, very realistic and perfect characterization. Timeline goes back and forth from initial post war to their with children. Loved this, it's also 57 chapters so might as well think of it as the 4th missing book.

Growing New Wings By: SkyLark89

Very accurate to the book, I always come back to this fic after my rereads. They rewatch the games to help Peeta's memory and work on the book. Starts off after Peeta's arrival and ends with "real".

A Little Drop of Hope By: Chinchilla17

In Peeta's pov, most growing back fics are in Katniss' pov so it was quite interesting to be in Peeta's mind after the hijacking.

The List orphan_account by silvercistern

This one is a must read, I'm sure everyone has heard of this one. Like if Collins were to write another book it would be this one.

Back to Twelve igsygrace

Another popular one, by the same author who wrote Peeta's games. I don't even need to tell you how good this. I will admit though I had some mixed feelings about the ending, because the author makes them go through another war. I'm not really sure if it's war tbh, but someone is trying to overthrow the government typa shit..

I have a problem with canon divergence so I didn't read the final chapter. idk why canon divergence just feels so wrong to me. But if you do like canon divergence this one could be really good. Anyway it's only the last chapter that is like that, the rest are all regular growing back material.

Synchronicity by ashyblondwaves

A collection of one shots and stories examining Katniss and Peeta's relationship post-Mockingjay. Peeta's POV. Pretty long but I really liked it. There's something about the writing that drew me to it. The problem is I have read a lot of these along time ago so I can't remember the exacts reasons any of these fics stuck out to me, I just remember they did.

Worse Games to Play By: Belmione

How Katniss finally decides to have children. Read a long time ago, but it's really sweet.

[scoonsalicious]

Hi besties!

I think it's time for a check-in!

Things have finally started looking up; I got myself a fancy new job that starts in the middle of next month! I won't be a librarian anymore, which, I won't lie to you, makes me kind of sad, because it's a job I love with my whole heart, but I will be making $20k more a year, so I'm not too terribly broken up about it, lol. Here I come, Lower-Middle Class! Whoop!

With Friends Like These... is officially on hiatus, with no set schedule for a return at this time. It will get finished at some point, but the muse for it has left me. I think I was struggling so hard to make sure the dynamic was fundamentally different from Unwanted that I was sucking the joy out of it for myself. Hopefully, after some time and distance from the "love triangle" element of Unwanted, the excitement I had for the story will come back.

Speaking of Pocket, I've been cheering myself up with Unwanted Unoshots (I have a theme, and I have to stick with it, okay?). I have a few more of those planned. My problem is I always want to turn them into something bigger than just a drabble and I have to reel myself in and keep them at actual one-shots. I'm hoping they'll be a nice, fluffy blanket we can all wrap ourselves in before we get to the heartbreak that will be Unbroken.

I'm currently wrist-deep into writing Hunted. The entire plot is mapped out, and it shouldn't be too difficult, seeing as how it's essentially only Bucky and Reader (who we're calling Princess - a nickname Bucky gives her, though not for nice reasons) as characters, and we'll get shared POVs. I'm not planning on making it a terribly long fic. Maybe 10-15 chapters in total, but Unwanted was only supposed to be about that long, too, and look where we went with that. ::shrug:: I'm thinking about posting a teaser of the first part of chapter one, just to get a feel for what ya'll think of it; let me know if that's something you'd be interested in.

Finally, I'm also working on a collab with @mrsbuckybarnes1917 that I'm very excited about. I won't say much on it, because it's still very much a work in progress, but I think you'll all enjoy it. It's got some sci-fi elements and will have some heavily angsty parts! You know I eat angst for breakfast!

Anywho, that's what's going on. I miss interacting with all of you, and the shenanigans. I'm off to write, but I hope to talk to you all soon! Love you oodles!

Scoons

[bre-meister]

Hello! About your last post, you said you were reading some fanfics, so I wanted to ask: What are your favorite fanfics from the fandom??? Especially the green pls, because I'm obsessed and nothing can help me 😃 (Looking forward to the mafia story)

This is probably not an exhaustive list. If you can't tell I'm a very forgetful person and I'm probably forgetting some good ones. I'll include whether or not the fic is incomplete (NC) and if it contains sexual content (M). I'll also try to find links for all the fics I list. I will say to anyone who uses these recs leave comments and kudos but don't be that person who harasses for an update. Definitely show the author some love though!

More Than Human NC. A definite must-read for anyone getting into the fandom. It was the fic that sucked me in! A great High School fic. Anything from Sbj at all is a win. Make sure to check her out on Dreamwith and FanFiction.net. Some of her stuff is crossposted but not all of it is

Green Lights NC/M. My current obsession. Buttercup moonlights as an exotic dancer and meets a mysterious man (Butch) who captures her attention.

Lie in Lime NC/M. Butch is a fashion designer and Buttercup gets roped into being his model. Features a slight love triangle with Brick. Great fic!

Any of the fics in this series on Ao3. This author is just amazing and most of her works are complete and also pretty long. A win-win if you ask me! Don't shy away from the NC ones though. Lilys of Snow Valley is amazing!

The Good, The Bad, and the Rowdy NC. An old west au.

The Greens Way of Life NC/M. A wonderful collection of One-shots and short stories surrounding the greens

The Number 3 NC. A great High School fic with some mysteries going on in the background.

Lycan NC. SO GOOD! A 19th-century supernatural au that is so well written. I can't recommend it anymore!

Killer's Playground. Mafia au. One chapter for each of the color code parings. Kinda violent

93,000 miles. I don't want to say much and give it away but it's super touching.

In general, just check out Miss.RoseGold. She has amazing greens content (the last few recs were from here) and I'd be here all day if I try to list them all. She's on FanFic.net and Ao3 but I'm not 100% sure if all her works are crossposted.

Green Maiden NC. An interesting dragon au. I don't think this one will ever get completed but it's still worth reading what's written imo

XXY NC a great high school, combined team fic.

Watching Her Move M. Short and smutty from Butch's perspective

Favours Fortune NC/M. A different take on the mafia au.

Our Italian Resturant. A great secret baby au fic. IDK if that made sense but you should definitely read it though

i thank the oceans (for giving me you). The fluffy family feels. I revisit this fic A LOT

Leaving. Just super cute and fluffy (maybe with a tad pinch of sadness)

Re-Life. Has some time travel shenanigans and is so worth the read.

I think that's a pretty good starting point. Again, it's not an exhaustive list of all the fics I have enjoyed in the fandom. A great piece of advice is if you find an author you like, check their account for their other works as well as their bookmarks or favorite stories. You'll find a lot of good fics that way. And don't limit yourself to one site. With a fandom as old as ppg you can find some amazing gems on "older" sites like FanFiction (it grosses me out to consider that site old). net and even here on Tumblr. Here is my own Ao3 link as well if you'd like to check out my own writing. Happy reading!

[spacecasehobbit]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thank you to @erisenyo for the tag! Some of these look tough, haha.

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 47

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 201,583

3. What fandoms do you write for? Quite a few! On ao3, I've got the most posted fics for Captain America and Stranger Things, but I've got a few more AtLA fic ideas that @erisenyo is great at encouraging me to return to and play around with a bit more every so often, and my current obsession is Saltburn. (If you dug into my fandom history there'd be even more fic - mostly on fanfiction.net, with a few more scattered across other, smaller sites and various fandom specific prompt memes - but you'll have to do that digging yourself if you want those answers :p)

4. What are your top five fics by kudos? 4/5 of these are for Stranger Things, which I think has more to do with: a) the popularity of the Stranger Things Harringrove fandom, and b) the fact that they were written in the earliest days of the Harringrove fandom right after S2 came out, and thus when there were already a ton of new fans but not many fics yet; for the popularity of those particular fics compared to others which I think were objectively better written.

Aftermath

2. In the Darkness (We are Free)

3. Acting Out

4. Bending, Breaking, and Backing Down

5. Overheating

5. Do you respond to comments? Yes! (Though occasionally it takes a few days, and I admit it falls off for comments on older works.)

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I wrote quite a few fics for the Hydra Trash Party back when that was big, so a lot of those had angsty endings, lol. Of those that got posted to ao3, Mirages of Matchstick Men might have the angstiest ending? Several of my Stranger Things fics have angsty endings, too, as do various other fics I've written. Apparently I'm fond of them, even though I prefer happy endings most of the time when reading other people's work, haha.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Somehow, in spite of how much I enjoy reading happy endings, only a surprisingly low percentage of my current ao3 fics have them.

My current Saltburn fic, Good Things Come (To Those Who Wait), will have a pretty happy ending (in fact, that ending is already largely written, and I'm just working on filling in the middle bits - which is happening, even if I've been busy this summer as well!). At the moment, however, the next chapter to be posted is a deep dive into the two main characters getting worse before they get better.

I Get High With a Little Help from My Friends is one of my few Captain America fics which is good for a bit of hurt/comfort and a nice, fluffy happy ending without too much hurt anywhere.

I think my AtLA fic, Acting Out, also counts as a pretty happy ending.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Not really? Especially not these days, though I did start fic writing on fanfiction.net back in the days when a lot of people would get hate comments just for writing any non-canon m/m fic. So, I probably got a nasty comment or two back then that I've chosen to forget about. I think I also got a nasty comment once for an HTP fic, but it was on the HTP dreamwidth meme and that thread got frozen pretty quick by the meme moderator, while plenty of other lovely people chimed in with positive comments.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Yep, lol. I've written everything from extremely kinky and very explicit smut (in HTP and for a few other fandoms!) to pretty vanilla to only a tad more explicit than fade-to-black sex, depending on the story.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? Not generally. Occasionally I'll read them if they really catch my eye, but I'm not sure what the "craziest" one would be...

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes: Mirages of Matchstick Men. It was a little Bucky-centric fic that I wrote for a weekly flashfic prompt challenge, and it was translated into Russian by Magdalena_sylar on ao3!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? I have not. It's an idea that interests me, but I can imagine it's an endeavor that could go south easily and would need a solid working relationship + good communication established in advance to have the best chance of going well.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship? Ohhh, man. This is a tough one. I am a consumate multishipper who has played around in a lot of different fandoms, and I'm not sure I have a single all-time favorite at this point. Current favorite is Cattonquick from Saltburn, and I've had a very long-running love for Gigolas from LotR, ever since I first read the books as a kid (though I haven't ever written my own fic for that second one, funny enough!).

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Another difficult one! I get lots of ideas, but only a few of them wind up getting all the way to fully written fic stage. Possibly the AtLA prequel to a long fic I've discussed ideas for at length with @erisenyo, from which the longer fic might eventually get written but the prequel may not....

16. What are your writing strengths? I'm 100% the, "you are your own harshest critic," type of person, so this was both a difficult and probably overall a good question for me to try and answer, lol. For the actual storytelling aspect, I've often gotten good comments about my characterization, so I can probably count that as a strength. In general, I can say that I'm very good at the technical aspects of writing, and I am quite good at editing.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Almost certainly: keeping my mind focused on one thing at a time/finishing one project before I let myself get distracted by another. I'm working on that one, though! (I will admit that writing a whole graduate thesis a few years back probably helped a lot on the self-discipline angle...)

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I generally don't try that one, in part because I don't trust myself not to mangle it horribly.

19. First fandom you wrote for? I've been writing fic for over half my life now (which still feels a bit crazy to think about!), and I'm not honestly 100% sure what fandom the very first fic I wrote was for. It was Harry Potter that first got me into fanfiction, though, and all the first fics I read were for Harry Potter.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? Going to quote @erisenyo here and say - This is impossible to answer! I have some older fics that I'm very fond of for nostalgia, fics for small fandoms that I love as expressions of my love for said fandoms even if they don't get much notice, and newer fics that I think are really good examples of how much my writing has grown since I was a teenager.

If I had to pick one fic for now, I think I'd pick Acting Out. It's the second AtLA fic I wrote, and one that was inspired by having read a lot of the, "GAang finds out how Zuko got his scar," fics on ao3 and realizing that none of them quite hit what I was most looking for in that genre. I think that fic is one of my best - if not the best of my fics - both in prose style and in achieving what I set out to do with it.

And I will tag: @rhaegang, @nythtak, @sulkybender, anyone else who wants to do this!

[aroaceleovaldez]

The sun and the star isn't in my country yet and I was really excited about reading it but after reading your blog I'm low-key scared...

On a scale of 1-10, how much would you recommend reading it anyway?

It depends. Obviously everyone's personal preference is different. Generally though, as far as I've seen, things seem to be divided more or less along the lines of:

If you enjoy low-stakes, cheesy, "tropey" stuff, "fluffy" stories, etc. If you have a higher tolerance for quality of writing (i.e. "bad" writing doesn't put you off). If you are on the younger end of the fandom. If you don't mind fics or etc where characters act "out of character" or you're not a huge stickler for details. If you are a huge Will and Nico fan and all or a good amount of the above is true (or if you're relatively apathetic towards Will and Nico. Basically if you aren't super picky about them being done "right"), you will probably not mind TSATS, or at least not think it's as horrible as most people are saying.

However, if "OOC" characters, incorrect details, and cheesy/"tropey"/too much "fluffy" stuff is not your vibe, or you have low tolerance for quality of writing, if you're on the older side of the fandom, or if you were looking forward to drama and high-stakes stuff and angst or hurt/comfort or horror, you will probably dislike TSATS. If you aren't super invested in Will and Nico or Solangelo you will probably find it boring (unless you hate Solangelo and think it's funny). If you are a stickler for Will & Nico/Solangelo details/continuity you may be disappointed.

I would generally say a decent litmus test for how you'll react to TSATS is how you felt towards TOA - if you really really liked Trials of Apollo, you will probably find TSATS fine. If you really hated Trials of Apollo, then reading TSATS will probably be a nightmare for you.

None of these things are bad, obviously. To each their own. But that's the best guide I can offer you. Most of what I say stems from a very structural and analytical standpoint, so things like character/detail consistency, writing quality, and etc are things that I tend to focus on. If you do not care about those specific topics at all, then you may just think it's "eh." You usually figure out if you hate it or not by the middle of the book, if not earlier by like, the big flashback chapters. So yeah. Hopefully that helps.

[goodgirlofglory]

Silver fox and the Captain - /Masterpost/

Status - Completed

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings: Explicit languange, explicit desciptions of violence, explicit descriptions of blood, explicit sexual content, smut later on with p in v, oral (f and m recieving), fluff and angst.

Summary:

You're a thief. Captain America catches you with stolen Stark tech in your hands and you barely manage to escape his arrest. Continuing to meet in the heart of action, will Steve Rogers catch you at last? What will he do if he does? And will your explosive attraction to each other leave you in danger of having your own heart stolen?

In the volatile world of the global black market, you find yourself right in the middle between the ruthless vile filth of the underworld and the Avengers, the defenders of the world, led by the ultimate hero, Captain America.

As a skilled thief, you've made a living of treading the Avengers's shadows as they hunt down and retrieve stolen Stark tech on it's way into the black market.

In the chaos and confusion of the aftermaths of the busts, you scurry away with smaller and larger trinkets which you sell for profit yourself to your vast network of underground contacts.

It's a tough life. Solitary, merciless and unfair. But it's one you've accepted. That is, until you turn the corner and find Captain America's full, undivided attention on you.

Note: This is very much a feel good fluffy and action-packed little tale, embroidered with desire, sexual tension and trimmed with a heavy dose of angst at the end before a happy ending.

Sooooo, while working on In the balance chapter 8, this cute idea of Steve and reader chasing each other around the black market world popped into my head, and lo and behold, here we are, seven chapters finished and ready to be posted.

I realized I haven't written a series with non-dark Steve yet, so that had to be remedied as well. This is slow burn, which is rare for me, so you'll have to wait until like chapter 3 until some juicy bits appear, and chapter 5 is the big smutty send off. But I think it'll be worth it, though. Hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it✨️

Your media consumption is your own responsibility, but I advise you to not engage if the content of the warnings upset you. My work is not to be distributed outside this blog.

Likes, reblogs, replies and asks are amazing💖💖

Enjoy!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

[gtlurker]

Chapter four of inhuman, were back to isabella's perspective, enjoy!

Chapter four.

Isabelle

I'm sitting on the dashboard of Ronan's car with a burger three times the size of my own body sitting in front of me.

It's the first time I've smelled something so good in so long, and it won't taste as good as I've spent the last ten years imagining. “You want me to cut that up for you?” Ronan asks while his mouth is stuffed full of half chewed food.

I've been living in a cage for the last ten years and have only been fed literal slop and I have better manners than this ghost man. I shake my head no, and look back at the burger in front of me. I pull off two pieces of the bun and rip off small pieces of the meat, lettuce and cheese to make a mini burger for myself. My hands are covered in grease and sauce, but I can deal with it after I eat.

The first bite tastes freedom, and the second solidifies that hope. After I finish the first mini burger, I waste no time ripping off more pieces to make another one,

and another, and another. By the time I realize that I can't eat another bite, there's a good chunk of the burger missing. I'm embarrassed to admit I'm a little proud of how much I was able to eat.

I look back over to the two towering people who have already finished their food, anxiety begins to pool in my stomach when I realize neither of them have said anything about Damien since we were in the lab. I was promised that Damien would be waiting for me, and it's just these two in the car.

The boy to the left of Ronan looks quite a bit younger than him, with fluffy brown hair he stuffed under his hood and a birthmark almost in the shape of a heart on his jaw. I don't like him. He hasn't sat still once in the entire car drive, and won't stop looking at me. I look back at the dark haired ghost man, he has a scar over his lip, and I think he might be wearing a bit of lip gloss.

I don't not like him.

His hands were pretty soft and warm. When it looks like the younger of the two is about to speak, I start before him. “Where's damien?” I ask quickly, and I wipe a bit of the grease off my hands and onto the thread bare dress I still have from the lab.

“He's in Italy, he’ll be back in-” he cuts himself off when his phone dings. He quickly digs his phone out of his pocket. He raises his eyebrows and looks up at me. “Next week, actually.” more dread pools in the pit of my stomach, and I clench the ends of my dress in my tight fists. “How do I know you're not lying?”

I ask, not looking up at either of them. As much s i try to hide it, I'm scared. If they're lying and actually are working with the people from the lab, there would be no one to blame but myself for believing them. This could all just be a test to see how I react to feeling hope, and then having it all taken away. “Two reasons.” Ronan starts, and he takes a sip of his unnaturally orange drink.

“One, our entire paycheck rides on whether or not you're safe, and two, you're the seventh kid weave rescued from these labs. You can ask the other six how even though we don't look very untrustworthy, were the most safe persons-”

“People.” The boy next to Ronan corrects him. “People, you'll ever meet. We can even call your brother so you know it's really him.” he says reassuringly, but i don't feel the least bit reassured. In fact, I feel an even higher sense of dread.

There's more labs like the one I was in, there's more people like me. How many more are there? Who are these two?

I shift my attention back to the younger boy,

Than to ronan.

Than to the giant pile of guns that took me a concerningly long time to realize were back there.

What. the. Fuck. I scoot back a bit and look between the two of them once more, before pointing at the pile of guns again. “What, what are all the guns for?” I ask, as I scoot back a bit more.

“Oh! Those are just in case there were people in the lab with you.” the boy whose name I really need to figure out says as he quickly throws his hoodie over them, most likely to hide them from my line of sight. “We're kinda like assassins but without the killing people part” Ronan gives him a skeptical look, his brows furrowed and his mouth slightly opened. “Except we do kill people.” Ronan adds on, and my eyes go wide with not exactly surprise, but more confusion that he would admit to a stranger that they kill people.

“Oh right, yeah, so we're kinda just assassins.” I'm guessing I'm not doing the best job at hiding my anxiety about being in a car with two murders fifty times my size with absolutely no escape route, from how Rowan's expression shifts to a reassuring and almost embarrassed look. “But we won't murder you, of course.” Rowan adds with a smile.

And that is possibly the least reassuring anyone has ever been while trying to tell someone they won't be murdered. But it's also not the dying part I'm worried about, since I myself cannot die. Its the torture i'm more scared off. If they are planning to get rid of me, the ways in which they could do so are horrifying.

They could bury me in a wooden box underground, and I'm too pathetically small to even be heard. Or maybe they would lock me in a steel chest and drop me into the ocean. Or maybe they'll just lock me up in a room to rot away.

What if all they told me about them being trustworthy and about my brother was a lie.

“Isa, why are you crying?”

Ronan's voice cuts through the never ending possibilities still screaming in the back of my head, and I'm suddenly all too aware of how close his hand is to me, his whole hand is twice the size of my entire body and is two seconds away from encasing me in its grasp.

Fight or flight kicks in and I make a run for it, “hey! Wait! Don't run-” running towards the rolled down car window. When I turn my head to see if his hand is still following me, I see that it's gone completely.

Confusion joins the overwhelming mix of emotions in my head, but it's immediately replaced by shock when the hand comes crashing down in front of me, blocking my only exit. My heart pounds against my ribcage and tears prick the corner of my eyes.

A familiar ringing sound fills my ears as I make a sharp turn to run the direction I came from. This attempt proves to be futile as well when i second hand lands in front of me on that side too. Fear grips my heart and all I can think about is the pain that's coming when the two hands start to move in on me from both left and right.

I brace myself for the crushing pain that will be my punishment for trying to run. I curl in on myself uncomfortably with Ronan's ring still loosely fitting on my waist digging into my chest. The promise that he made to me with this ring on must've meant nothing to him even though it meant the world to me. He scoops me into his hands and before I can even register any of the pain I begin to struggle.

No matter how pointless it is I struggle against his hold, if he's going to try and hurt me i will not make it easy. I wonder if it's possible for the addranile to block out all of the pain, or if he hasn't started to hurt me yet.

“oh mon Dieu- Isabelle! Calm down! I am not hurting you!”

Ronan says, but i don't listen, i don't believe his lies and i continue to struggle in his hand. He closes his hands around me so that I'm cupped between his hands in almost complete darkness, small bits of light peek through the gaps in his fingers and I freeze.

I stop for a moment and realize that he is being gentle, his movements are a bit clumsy, but he's not hurting me at all. I'm still shaking a bit but I'm not actively fighting against him anymore.

“I am really starting to run out of ways to express that we don't want to hurt you.” he says with a sigh, though his voice is a bit muffled through the flesh wall between us, i can hear his sincerity. I copy his sigh, “please. . . put me down. . . please.”

I say in a tone so quiet it almost counts as a whisper. To my almost surprise, he listens. Ronan sets me gently down in the cup holder beside him. It's only then that I notice the boy next to us with a mortified expression. He looks at me, then looks at ronan.

“Dude, you did not just grab her like that!?” Ronan gives him a quizzical expression. “She's fine with it, right isa?” I quickly shake my head no, agreeing that I am not okay with being grabbed like this.

“Oh, I'll stop doing that then.” he starts up the car again and i flinch, neither of them notice though and they start driving the car. I hug myself, and try not to think about the danger I could be in.

[eyndr-stories]

Tea Time Tall Tails (FNAF SB Fanfic)

Combining a few cute suggestions from Ao3 for this one! The_TRUE_Fanfiction_Princess: Somehow we discover a setting that makes us make mouse sounds? Gaiko: Reader cheering up Sun or Moon after a bad day? Or alternatively, Reader and the rest of the Rat fam have a game night / gossip party just sit around and spill da tea XD

This chapter is a standalone in-universe scenario for 'I Think I Smell A Rat', no previous reading required! All you need to know is you're a lil robot repair rat who lives in the walls of the plex and you're pals with Sun and Moon.

EDIT: I ALMOST FORGOR!!!!! The new stylish little bowties the rats have are inspired by THIS AMAZING FANART right here by @shirajellyfish!!! Everyone go look at it right now its so cute

This chapter contains: - Silly fun times with the boys! - The rats all make rat noises now, and if you know your rats you'll know that some noises mean a rat is scared or in distress, but for the purposes of this fic, I'm declaring right here that when the repair rats make the noises everything is fine, they're just randomly pulling audio files from a folder called 'misc rat sounds' some software guy put together from synthesized sounds. The squeaks are just cute rat sounds! No rats were harmed during the making of this fic lmao - This really is just a silly fun fluffy chapter ^_^

Ao3 link here!

The main fic this is based off of here: (I Think I Smell A Rat)

Tea Time Tall Tails

     You wouldn't say you had a favorite task per se, you just enjoyed doing the tasks and seeing them vanish off your little list and appear again in the network's completed task archive. And there were definitely some tasks that were easier than others. But of all the tasks, you sure did enjoy fixing the arcade machines when they broke quite a lot.

     All the arcade machines in the plex had either been built or modified after purchase to accommodate repair rats. They had ports just your size in the back, right by the power cable, and the ones built by the company had steep little paths along the inside walls for you to climb.

     You weren’t sure what it was about the arcade machines. Maybe it was just that fixing one had been your very first task ever upon activation. Maybe it was how simple they usually were to fix, making for a quick reward of ticking the task off the list. You weren’t sure, but you were in good spirits tonight. You’d gotten to fix two arcade machines, and with all the rest of your tasks done as well, you were on your way back to the nest for a quick recharge before you got to see your very tall friends in the daycare.

     Charging took longer than expected; there was a decent update waiting for you to power down and install it. A very brief and uncaring glance at the file told you this was actually the second part of a different update you'd received this morning. You'd had to go to parts and service for that, as there were apparently some small new parts to install and older parts to replace. This whole 'update' thing was more a very minor annoyance than anything, and you quickly put it out of mind once you were awake once more. You were excited to get to the daycare and hang out with your friends!

     When you finally arrived, you were thrilled to see a few more of your repair rat friends were already here as well. Ever since Sun had extended the invitation, the daycare had become almost a hub for any rats with some free time. You and the other rats, as it turned out, were somewhat starved for games and play time. You all worked so hard all the time, and before you’d met the daycare attendant, none of you had ever really taken time off to relax or have fun. It was always busy busy busy, work work work.

     Now though, you all had lots of games to play, and Sun and Moon never got bored or lonely after closing anymore either.

     “Tiny friend!!” Sun greeted you with as much enthusiastic delight as always, bounding over to scoop you up the moment you set foot in the daycare. “How are you??”

     You waved your tail and used the light at the end to blink out a reply in morse code. To your surprise however, the moment you began to blink your light, a sound jumped straight out of you.

     You and Sun both froze. You swiveled your head around in surprise, but you and Sun were the only ones around. Your rat friends were all the way across the daycare at one of the plastic tables. A moment later, you processed that the noise had come from you.

     "Did you just… squeak?!" Sun cried. He was practically vibrating with delight.

     "I… think… so…?" You slowly blinked in reply. This time you heard quiet chittering noises coming from you as you did. Those sounds were definitely coming from you. You paused to take a closer look at those update files. "Ah. I've acquired a speaker box, it seems. And several audio files."

     "Yes!! That's right, a few of your friends told me you all got an update! Just when I thought you couldn't get any cuter!!" Sun bounced from side to side and gave your head a little pat. "You make cute little mousey sounds now with your little… squeaker box!" Sun giggled. He held you up closer to his grinning face plate. "OH!! And look at this, it's so teeny I almost didn't see it! You've got a little bowtie now too, ahhh!"

     You had to admit, the pun was amusing. You weren't sure about these noises, though. They didn't really have a practical use. Who thought this was a necessary update?? You had actually noticed the bowtie; that had been a new addition after this morning's parts and service updates, but you hadn't really paid it much mind at all. Much like the noises, it didn't seem all that necessary to your tasks. "It appears I'm set by default to make random noises when certain conditions are met. Tail light activation, task completion, being in standby mode for more than a minute… I believe I can turn these settings off easily enough."

     Sun gasped, as if you'd committed a horrible offense. "NOOO! But the noises are so cuuuuute!! Pleeease please pretty please keep them on??"

     "They don't serve any purpose! In fact playing noises all the time is going to take up more battery power, so I'll be less efficient!" you argued.

     "How much battery would they take?"

     "…" You ran a quick calculation. "I estimate 0.063% battery power will be used for these noises per each charge."

     "Aw common, that's barely anything!" Sun pouted, slumping over and drawing his sun rays in slightly. "I guess if you really want to turn the noises off, that's your choice of course…"

     Sun looked so sad, like this was a true travesty for him. You deliberated for a moment. You hated seeing Sun so upset. "…I suppose I'll leave the settings on for now. Just while I'm in the daycare, though."

     Sun instantly brightened, springing back up as his rays all popped back out. "Yippie!!!"

     You still couldn't grasp why this mattered so much to him, but you'd humor him anyways.

     "Oh, but we've gotten distracted by your adorable new features!! How are you, tiny friend?" Sun asked.

     “I’m great! I’ve been having a great day today. I fixed some arcade machines,” you told him. You squeaked and chirped as you did, and Sun started bouncing again.

     “Oooh fun! I’m so glad to hear that!” Sun’s rays swayed happily. His grinning face plate took up nearly your entire field of view as he held you right up at eye level. You couldn't see precisely what his optics were focused on, but you got the feeling he was admiring your little bowtie.

     You returned the question. “How are you?”

     “No need to worry about me tiny friend!!” Sun did a spin, hands closing slightly around you in a protective manner. He’d never once dropped you before, but he was always extra careful anyways. “Today was a little tense for us… A few little friends weren’t playing nice, but they were playing much kinder after Moon had them take a nap! So everything is fine, no need to worry. Also!! Your friends and I were just talking about having a tea party, would you like to join us??”

     Something about Sun's tone had made you wary, but the mention of a new game immediately stole your attention. “Tea party??” You’d never played that game before! “Sure!”

     Sun happily carried you across the entire daycare in a flash, bringing you to join a small number of other rats all hanging out at one of the small plastic tables.

     Sun set you down at the table, then started setting up while you greeted the others. One of your nest mates was here, RR-TI. They seemed delighted to see you, and you happily waved your tail at them in greeting. Everyone else seemed to have gotten the update already as well; you saw tiny bowties all around.

     “Okay, everyone gets their own teacup! And here’s the teapot, and we’ve got snacks too!” Sun set out colorful plastic cups and saucers and a matching teapot, as well as a big plate full of plastic wrapped packs of fazbear-themed animal crackers, all in the shapes of the glamrocks.

     Not that any of you could eat or enjoy the snacks, but you didn’t yet know the rules of this game so you couldn’t really say much.

     Sun went on. “Tea parties are easy and fun! All you have to do is take turns telling stories. They don’t have to be real, but friendly gossip is encouraged! There is another thing you have to do, but I don’t think it applies to repair rats. You must hold your pinky out like this when you take a sip of tea!” Sun demonstrated, lifting his teacup and sticking his pinky finger up in the air. He tipped the empty cup into his grin. “Mmm, tasty!”

     You weren’t the only one confused by the rules of this game. Several rats flashed questions at once, and a small chorus of chirps started up.

     “But the cups are all empty!”

     “Are the snacks like points? Do we earn them later?”

     “How do you win tea party?”

     “What kind of stories do we tell?”

     Sun gently set his teacup down on his saucer. “There’s no points in tea parties, sillies! This isn’t a game you win or loose, its just a fun pretend game!”

     “Pretend?” You and the other rats shared confused looks.

     “Yes, pretend! You act like something is true, even if it’s not! For fun! Here, why don’t I start us off since you all seem a little confused…” Sun took the teapot and carefully poured nothing at all into his teacup. He lifted his cup next. “I was chatting with the mermaids earlier and you’ll never believe what they told me! They said that miss Roxanne Wolf can count all the way to one trillion! And she’s the best at it, too!!”

     “I can count to one trillion. That’s not very hard,” RR-TI said.

     A few other rats agreed.

     “Who are the mermaids?” another rat wondered. “I’ve never seen a ‘mermaid’ in the building before.”

     “There are no mermaids! Just like there is no tea,” Sun explained.

     “No mermaids??” Your friends just looked more confused. “But you claimed to have spoken with them a minute ago?”

     “That was just pretend. I made it up!” Sun said patiently. He took another ‘sip’ from his empty teacup, pinky raised.

     “Made it up?? But why?” RR-TI asked.

     “For fun! I thought it would make for a more interesting story. That’s what’s fun about tea parties, you can tell any kind of stories you like! It’s just for fun, just pretend!” Sun gestured to you. “Why don’t you give it a try?”

     You froze up, still confused as to how this game worked. “Um…” You scrambled to come up with the correct way to take your turn. Sun had said there was no winning or loosing, not even any points, so you supposed it didn’t matter much if you messed up. Still, you were at a bit of a loss. “I… was talking to… the werewolves, and they told me… Montgomery Gator makes delicious soup?” You sniffed at your cup, but there was still no tea in it, and you had no pinky finger to lift regardless.

     “Not bad!!” Sun applauded your efforts.

     “I just used your story as a template and replaced a few details,” you admitted.

     “I could tell! That’s okay though, you still did really good for your first try, even if it wasn’t entirely original. That's how we learn best sometimes! Am I right to think that maybe you're all still a little lost?"

     You and the others all agreed- this new game was very confusing.

     "I don't know how to play this game correctly," you told Sun.

     "There's not really a right or wrong way to play pretend! All you have to do is have fun with it," Sun said.

     How strange. All the games you'd played prior had been very structured. There were rules, points, strategy. You'd had a lot of fun with those, but now that you were thinking about it, you weren't even sure how 'fun' was supposed to work. If the only important rule of this tea party game was to have fun and 'pretend'… you actually had no idea how to go about either of those tasks.

     Looking around, you saw your other rat friends at the table were in much the same predicament. You noticed the sub-network you and all the other repair rats in the building shared had a few low priority query pings on it.

     Task Assistance: How to fun?

     Task Assistance: How to pretend?

     These queries gathered more confused questioning from other rats than answers.

     "You all still look pretty confused. Let me ask you all this… what things do you think are fun?" Sun asked, folding his arms over the table.

     "Chess is fun!" RR-TI said. A few other rats agreed.

     "Tag is fun," another rat chimed in.

     "The arcade machine tasks are fun," you added.

     A different rat chittered at you and shook their head. "Arcade tasks are NOT fun. Those are boring."

     You were about to defend your favorite task when Sun jumped back in.

     "That's all great!! And remember that sometimes different things are more fun for different people!" Sun pat you and your almost-enemy on your heads with gentle fingertips. "Think about that feeling you get when you do these things. It's a lighthearted pleasure, feels just like a fresh charge, right?"

     You and the others agreed with this.

     Sun gestured with his hands while he explained, the bells on his wrists jingling merrily. "The best kind of fun, in my opinion, is when you have fun doing something that isn't also a task that needs doing, or a chore that needs completing. Although those can be fun too! But my favorite fun is when you do it just simply to have fun! Pretend is really great for that, because there's no other tasks to it! No points or scores or winning or loosing, you just be silly and playful and it's fun!"

     "No task? Just fun??" RR-TI wondered.

     You thought you were starting to understand. You weren't sure if you could do anything if it wasn't a task of some sort, but you were willing to try. "I think I get it. Can I try again?"

     Sun nodded happily. "Of course!!"

     You raised your tail and started another 'pretend' story. "I was doing my tasks the other day… when… the whole building flooded! There was water everywhere, and I had to swim around to find… the drain. To get rid of the water! But I couldn't find it… And then Sun's mermaid friends came along and helped me find it, and I opened the drain, and the water went away."

     Sun applauded, ecstatic over your efforts. "That was really great!! Good job, I loved it! You even remembered my mermaids, how sweet!"

     You were delighted with the praise. Was pretend really that easy? All you had to do was tell lies, essentially. But in a way that was, undoubtedly, fun.

     The other rats seemed to be catching on as well.

     "Okay! I have a story too," RR-TI said.

     "Tell us the gossip!!" Sun exclaimed, setting his face plate atop his hands, his elbows on the table.

     "Freddy Fazbear… has a secret golden hat that can… turn you into a plant when you wear it!" RR-TI proclaimed.

     "Ooooh no way! I had no idea!" Sun put his hands over his grin in surprise.

     "He doesn't really, that I know of. I made it up," RR-TI assured.

     "That's right, I'm playing along! That can be part of the fun, like how tiny friend- er, RR-YN mentioned my mermaids in their story," Sun explained.

     "Oh!" RR-TI nodded in understanding.

     You and the other rats and Sun went around taking turns 'gossiping' and telling outlandish stories. You even played off each other, referencing the other's tall tales in your stories, or mentioning that one of the others had been there for the fictitious events, so they could play along with it.

     Sun would occasionally sip his nonexistent tea, pinky out, and you realized that was part of the fun too. Pretending there was tea in the cup. For your next story, you pretended there was tea in your cup as well, and braced your paws on the rim to act out sticking your nose in the cup and taking sips of tea. You proclaimed the tea to be delicious, and Sun thanked you kindly and told you he'd made it himself from scratch.

     It was strange, but you really were having fun. There was no task, no points to win or loose. You were just being silly and saying silly things just for the delight of it. Your friends were all in on it as well and would play along with you, and you were all having fun together.

     When it came time for Moon's turn, you and the other rats were practically experts at tea party. The lights all dimmed and Moon's glowing red optics were met with a small crowd of delighted blinking little lights and happy squeaking.

     "Moon, guess what! I was turned into an octopus the other day!" RR-TI declared.

     "I'm the one who turned them into an octopus!" another rat chimed in.

     "…Ah. I see Sun has taught you all the vital skill of lying," Moon said, squatting in typical hunched fashion where Sun had been sitting.

     "Fun lying," you corrected.

     "And you're all making noises now too. Sun did leave a note about that." Moon watched you all with amusement. Your rat friends were going back and forth now about octopus sorcery.

     "There was an update earlier. I would have turned my sound settings off but Sun seemed deeply upset at the idea," you said.

     Moon's eye lights rolled. "Typical. He mentioned no less than four times in his note how adorable you sound. They're just silly rat noises."

     "I can turn them off for you, if you would rather," you offered.

     "…I didn't say that." Moon absently picked up his teacup and 'sipped' his tea.

     "Pinky out!!" several rats cried.

     Moon scoffed. "That's Sun's silly rule he got from the kids."

     "It's one of the only rules of tea time. You have to stick your pinky out," RR-TI insisted. The other rats backed them up with affirming squeaks.

     "I don't see any of you sticking your pinkies out," Moon said.

     "Sun says repair rats are exempt from the rule, since we don't have pinkies," another rat told him.

     "Unbelievable. Bending the rules for just anyone… what has the humble tea party come to." Moon 'tsk'ed and took another sip of tea, still not abiding by the 'pinky out' rule.

     Your rat friends were all in distress over the broken rule, but you knew just what to do.

     "Well you know what happens when you break the rules of tea party…" you started.

     "What, will you put me in time out? I'd like to see you try, tiny terror." Moon spun his face plate at you.

     "I don't need to… I've already poisoned your tea while you weren't looking," you said.

     Moon froze, then stared down at his teacup. He gasped and dropped the cup, then dramatically gripped at his chest. "You poisoned me?! The betrayal…!"

     "We warned you not to break the rules." You shook your head at Moon.

     "Grahh!" Moon gasped and coughed, then fell backwards. He lifted a shaking hand into the air, then proclaimed one final "blegh." before going limp and laying still on the floor.

     Your rat friends all chirped and cheered, popcorn jumping about, delighted by the performance. Moon laughed quietly from the floor.

     The night went on, and your friends came and went. Some had tasks to do, others needed to charge. You stayed with Moon and kept an eye on the network, where word of playing pretend had spread like wildfire. There were now lots of low priority 'pretend tasks' with nonsensical assignments like 'create a dragon' or 'repair the air' or 'fix 20 turtles'. A few rats were 'completing' these and adding task notes like 'the dragon is my friend now. We are going to go bowling together'.

     Despite this newfound love of silly pretend games, there was something still bothering you in the back of your mind. You turned to Moon as he cleaned up the game of checkers you'd been only half focusing on. It had been just you and Moon at the table for a while, though a few of your rat friends were currently playing tag on the other side of the daycare.

     "Hey Moon… how was your day today?" you asked.

     Moon paused, glancing up at you briefly before resuming his counting of the pieces. "Fine."

     "Are you sure?"

     Moon didn't look at you this time. He recounted the pieces. "What did Sun tell you?"

     "He mentioned something about a few little friends not playing nice, but they were better after a nap," you told him.

     "That's all?"

     You nodded. "Is there something else?"

     "…" Moon put the lid on the box and tapped his fingers rhythmically over the colorful cardboard surface. "A parent was rude with us is all. Happens all the time."

     "But it still bothered you?" you pressed.

     "It bothered Sun. I'm totally fine," Moon insisted, laying his hands down firmly on the box.

     "Oh, I didn't realize we were still playing pretend."

     Moon shot you a look. He set the game aside and folded his arms. "…Fine. I'm slightly bothered. But it's stupid and doesn't matter. I shouldn't be upset."

     "I don't think it's stupid," you told him.

     "…Thanks, tiny terror," Moon mumbled quietly. "It actually is nothing major, just irritating is all, when parents are rude and impatient with us. Sun already forgot all about it when he learned you make little rat noises now."

     You were pleased to know you'd managed to cheer up Sun without even really trying. He really hadn't seemed too bothered, beyond the intentionally vague recollection of how his day had been. You'd have to talk to him about that later and make sure he knew he could tell you about things like this if he wanted. As for Moon, on the other hand…

     "How about you, are you feeling better about it now?" you asked. "Would looking at my new little bowtie help??"

     Moon laughed lightly. "It is a very stylish little addition. I'm doing much better now, tiny friend. Thank you for listening."

     You would smile if you could. You straightened up and chirped happily. "You're welcome!" You paused as you realized something. "Hey, you called me 'tiny friend' instead of 'tiny terror'!"

     Moon folded his arms and swiveled his head around to face the opposite direction. "Did not."

     "You did!"

     "Your new update must have an audio processing bug." Moon snatched up the checkers box and quickly left to go put it away.

     You played with your friends the rest of the night, and soon it was time to charge, and Sun and Moon had to get ready for the day. You read over the pretend tasks on your way back to the nest, delighting at some of the tomfoolery taking place in the network.

     You settled down to charge, eager to welcome a new day of tasks and unrelated fun. As you powered down, you thought you might just leave your new noise settings on after all.

[amysnotdeadyet]

2023 in review

Just the fannish creations, thanks. I don't want to think too hard about how fucking weird and stressful the year was outside of that. XD

I found some old 00Q art hiding on my hard drive and posted it in Feb.

I wrote a short Inception ficlet for @ladyprydian in April to try to jumpstart my muses. It didn't work.

I binge-wrote a whole-ass Sandman fic with (gasp!) fade-to-black porn in it in May.

July brought the Stony games! I was much less prolific than last year, but I managed a few things, starting with 3 little drabbles about perception.

I did a giftfic for the games! It starts in media res and I, being a troll, titled it In Pornia Res because yeah, this one's just pure porn against a background of worldbuilding.

I posted a longstanding WIP that was 100% self-indulgent trash, with Tony and Steve getting Bucky as their new sugar baby and treating him them right. Absolutely just the fluffiest of trash, but 66K of it!

I posted another longstanding WIP that's really pre-slash (I KNOW so weird) but involves catboy Tony, catboy Bucky, and a puppy Steve who's gonna get both (after the fic anyway).

My last little Stony Games fill was 8-bit pixel porn, because of course it was.

Later in August I did the "write what you want to see" thing and banged out (heh) a very kinky Stranger Things fic with Steve/Eddie and a leather bar. Somehow, it's still extremely fluffy.

I drew! Fanart! With pens and shit! Also Steve/Eddie.

And then I made pixel art of them, because why not.

Another Steddie fic, this time a modern AU with 'lost touch' feelings and also banging the rockstar in his hotel room.

And finally, my MTH2021 fic is posting a year late, and will continue on into the new year. It's all done and edited, I just like the daily posting method for getting drip-fed dopamine and also sitting there posting 29 chapters at once is no bueno.

You can find all of this stuff here, so I'm not link-stuffing the post: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swtalmnd/works

What's Coming in 2024 (besides my blorbos)

I have a few more Stuckony WIPs waiting in the wings, including my MTH 2022 fic, which I hope to finish in time to actually participate in 2024.

I have at least 1 novel coming out and maybe 2? I didn't publish ANY original fiction last year (gah), but I finished 1 draft (the sequel to Hive) and am plodding along on 2 more (Julian 4 and something new). I am so slow these days, tho, gah. I have no idea how some people put out multiple books a year, year after year.

I've got a few more Eeveeon arts to share, which I always forget to do on Tumbls.

I might actually open commissions next year (for art, I don't enjoy fic commissions).

I'm gonna a Stuckony Valentine thing, so you'll get at least one short fic from me in Feb.

I'm hoping something new will sweep me into its fandomy arms, because while I do love my current blorbos (MCU & Stranger Things), neither one is really doing the full fixation dance in my brain and that's sad. OTOH I'd like to finish my MCU WIPs before that spark fully dies ahahaha haha ha.

As far as art goes, I'm keeping up my Patreon sketch cards and not a ton else, but my new-new meds are helping me Get Shit Done, so I'm really hoping that I can get back into larger-than-a-playing-card artwork, both fannish and non.

I'm still gonna do more of my 8-bit bullshit, though.

[buddyfunnyspendtime]

pleaaaasssee recommend me some yuri. Or any girl-centric media. I am starved of women

HI HI THANK U FOR THE ASK ANON!! I have no idea what kind of genre you like or ones you've already read so i'll just recommend one that I personally really enjoyed a tropical fish yearns for snow !!! it's finished with a whopping 34.5 chapters

it's about a girl named amano konatsu who moves to a seaside town to live with her aunt after her dad decides to move overseas for work. on the first day she moves she goes to the high school that she's going to attend soon and visits the school's monthly aquarium public viewing that the school holds for the aquarium club!! there she meets a girl (the sole member of the aquarium club) who askes her if she likes salamanders and the story goes from there.

this story is Genuinely so heartwarming and it tackles the issue of loneliness so well using the aquarium club setting and its aquatic species as an allegory for it. it's a slice of life that's fluffy and goofy at times but still manages to tie in such realistic emotional points that you deal with in relationships

I will say though that this yuri isn't explicitly romantic (they don't kiss </3) but regardless the relationship between the 2 main girls IS VERY CLOSE. so really if you want to interpret it as platonic or romantic either can work. I swear at the later part of the story they say they're more than friends but never elaborate though

okay other girl centric medias that aren't classified as yuri but with enough delusion it is I REALLY RECOMMEND It's MyGO!!!!! anime bandori's writing genuinely improved so much with this anime alone. It's a band anime that has such in depth characters and relatable and the band's songs are really touching. it starts with a band ending to a new one forming, with each member having a different reason to joining the new band and being quite different from each other.

but I think you probably already know MyGO since it was popular in the fandom spaces I was in when it was still airing new episodes (if you don't know MyGO but are interested feel free to do another ask!!!) so i also reccomend School Live! (Gakkku Gurashi)

this animanga is a psychological horror that takes place in a high school where 5 people make a club out of living at school!! because Surprise there's a zombie apocalypse but Yuki (light pink haired girl) doesn't realize that and is living in the illusion that school is still perfectly fine and cheerful. the other 4 indulge her in that illusion because it makes living for them a bit easier too

I don't think the anime is that scary since the zombies are mostly blacked out for the most part If anything I think it's more nerving and emotional?? I'll be honest I haven't watched the anime in a few years and I haven't read the manga at all BUT I RECCOMENDED TO MY FRIEND and she really loves this media so maybe you'll enjoy it too (I just looked at the manga panels Whydo they look so terrifying???)

scratches head I Justrealized technically all of these have to deal with highschoolers and idk if you wanted medias that's more grown up if none of these interest you that's perfectly okay !!!!! just lmk and I'll go swim in the yuripedias again just didn't want to overwhelm you

[sea-side-scribbles]

Fanfiction: You Always Meet Twice

Link to ao3

Chapter 37

Morrie couldn't believe how happy he was. For the first time, he really enjoyed the moment. Of course, there had been quiet moments before this, back then when he had been alone, just sitting in the grass and listening to the wind. Or to Uncle Jack. But only this time, he felt like he wasn't waiting for something to happen. He was here with Nick, facing a seemingly endless day and for the first time, he appreciated the wide and flat horizon with nothing but trees and rocks around him, sparsely peppered over the landscape. He felt free.

Nick had similar feelings, except that for him, Morrie's mood meant everything. The Garden was a magical place, but it appeared empty when Morrie shunned him. Today made the change. Morrie was beaming, standing upright. He towered over Nick more than usual. But instead of being intimidating, he looked very tender. Instead of avoiding Nick, he locked gazes with him so many times, allowed them to smile at each other, sending wordless messages. Nick didn't care where they went as long as they went together. As long as he could cheer Morrie up.

Nick brought him to a halt once, when his gaze fell on something. “Morrie, wait-!”, he shouted out with excitement and pulled at the man's arm. “What is it? Wrong way?” Quickly, Nick knelt down to pick a flower. It had an orange blossom with yellow tips on the petals. Nick gave Morrie an adoring look and put the flower behind the man's ear.

“Orange this time?” Morrie sounded amused and posed as if Nick had a camera. “Does it suit me?” “Fantastic, luv! Goes great with your eyes and hair!”, Nick agreed with a likely peacocky pose. Morrie fluttered his eyelashes. “It'll be all the rage this season. Everyone's gonna wear it.” “But nobody will put it off like you.” “Naturally.” Morrie threw his head back. “I'll be the cover of all the fashion magazines in the Garden!” “I hope so.” Nick laughed, but he became curious. “Are there any magazines in the Garden?”

“No. It's up to you to establish one if you like.” Morrie sighed. “Hmm...Tempting.” “I'm joking. I don't think you'll find many readers.” “Why not? Don't you think Wastrels care about their looks?” “Do they look like it?” “Well, it's a different style, but they are very serious about it, right?” Morrie laughed out loud. “Dead serious indeed! They'll downright slaughter you if you neglect it. Not even Hackney went that far, although he was close.”

“But they could be more creative”, Nick insisted. “Different shapes of shreds, other messy haircuts, branches as hairpins and different flowers...” “You spent too much time with Hackney.” “But don't they miss looking smashing?” Morrie sighed again. “Sure. I guess.” “One can dream.” “Yeah...” Morrie wondered where Nick's optimism came from. The man turned from a self-destructive, depressed rockstar into a bundle of joy. Now he could imagine how Nick had the courage and endurance to fight his way up to the top.

Then Morrie gave him a playful look. “I wonder what flower would sit well on you.” Nick folded his hands behind his back and grinned. “Your choice, luv. Surprise me.” “Let's see...It'll be hard to beat the Nonsuches, though.” “I'm sure you'll manage.” Morrie searched the grass while they strolled further. The Wastrel knew he was being ridiculous, making an effort just to put a flower in someone's hair. But Nick seemed to like flowers and he wanted to look pretty, so...How could he deny him his wish? He thought of red or pink. No pastels. And orange was already taken. Blue was possible, but only a light blue, nothing too dark and sad.

Nick watched him search, happy that he found another way to entertain him. Eventually, Morrie made a decision and offered Nick a red blossom with fluffy petals and a violet centre. Nick accepted it as if it was a medal. Morrie acted very gentle, pushing the other man's hair back and adjusting the flower. When he was done, he couldn't help grabbing Nick and kissing his lips.

Nick loved Morrie's “attacks”. Feeling needed, even craved by this shy man sent wholesome shivers down his spine. He tried his best to assure him, to tell him he'd be alright. He had the feeling that Morrie didn't believe it yet since he kept pulling away. Nick did everything to keep cautious but it was difficult. He had never been the slow type.

He kissed a trail down Morrie's neck to the chest while his hands fondled the bare upper body under the open jacket. He could feel his muscles tense under his touch and his breath become faster. Careful. Nick's lips rested on Morrie's chest, not daring to go further down. He stroked Morrie's back, then he settled for rubbing his cheek against him. Morrie adored the gesture. Nick seemed to fully trust him, begging to keep him close. He smiled into the soft auburn hair. Yes, I have your back, Nicky, he thought. Don't you worry. They hugged and swayed, until Morrie only reluctantly let him go again. His tender smile comforted Nick, who couldn't wait for the next “attack”.

Moving on hand in hand, they eventually found an abandoned road and followed it until the house on the map came into view. “Oh, that doesn't look too bad, though. A lot like yours”, Nick commented the sight. Indeed, judging by the front it seemed to be intact, even neat, with red and white flowers growing in the front garden. A bright red postbox stood next to the entrance and Nick wondered how these of all things survived everything. However, the broken fence and the ivy covering the door proved that nobody had lived here for a long time.

Walking around the house, they found a gaping hole in the wall that allowed them to see the stairs inside. Also the roof above was torn open as if somebody had hit the building with a blunt axe. “This is useful...”, Morrie mumbled, making Nick chuckle. “Yeah, screw doors.” “The plants there, Nicky. Did you forget everything I told you?”, the Wastrel teased him. “I might've been a little distracted...” Morrie rolled his eyes, but in an amused way, then told him that a tea made from the violet flowers helped against various aches.

The back of the house looked even worse. The walls were missing as if someone cut the building in half and threw the other part away. Only the chimney stood tall, proud but useless. They could overlook all three floors. Ivy grew over the wounds in the walls, painting it in a lush green that seemed to be out of place. The wind howled through the open rooms, emphasizing their emptiness more than silence would.

Seeing this made Nick feel strange, a humbleness he didn't remember to possess. The ruin was a sad sight, but what he felt wasn't sadness. He sensed that this place had a meaning. It had meant everything to someone else. People had lived, laughed and loved in here and all that was left was this memorial. What really happened here, they would never know. It's history was lost forever. It endured in silence and whoever found this would only...use it to satisfy their own needs.

This was the other side of the Garden's deeper meaning. Not the magical, gaudy side, but the morbid one. They didn't need corpses to come upon death. Nick leaned against the broken wall, hands clutching stone. It was cold despite the sun. The wind crawled under this shredded clothes and made him tremble.

“Nick? Are you okay?” Morrie noticed the change of mood. “This is like us, right?”, Nick said hoarsely, looking up to the ruin. “We're just as broken. Some pieces of us still remain, but the rest is lost forever...” Morrie followed his gaze in silence. He hadn't forgotten how sensitive Nick was about the topic, but he had no chance but to try again and again. “That's a...poetic view...”, he whispered. “But it's true, right? Ruins like these are all around us. And in our heads. Our past, our memories, everything...” Nick couldn't look away. “And this...we...we have to abuse it...”

Morrie put an arm around him to hold him close. “Look, Nick, we have to create something new...”, he tried. “This isn't a home anymore, but it's full of things that could make a new home. We...we're giving this a new purpose.” Nick sniffed. “I remember..very far away...shady images...we used to play in these when we were kids, didn't we?...We didn't care what happened...it was just a playground for us...” He bowed his head, leaning heavily against Morrie. “Is this our punishment?” The Wastrel had similar memories from his childhood. Living in the Garden felt like a caricature of the old days.

“I'm sure it's not a punishment...not by a higher being...” Morrie furrowed his brows, unsure if he offended Nick. The rockstar believed in supernatural beings after all. “We did this to ourselves. Instead of rebuilding the district after the war, we...ignored it, or forgot about it. The main point is, we never fixed it. And that's why these are still here.” Nick took a deep breath. His voice was husky when he answered: “So, the past is back to haunt us...Great...What an awful punishment just for not taking Joy...” “You're free now”, Morrie said and hugged him, caressed his hair. “You don't have to pretend that you're happy any longer...” ...and you won't be happy again, Morrie ended the sentence in his head. Then he buried his nose in Nick's hair. Yes, he corrected himself. You will be. God, I hope you will be...

Nick remained in Morrie's embrace, pressed himself against him. He realized that none of this would've happened in Wellington Wells. They had been enemies there, trapped in a never ending circle of lies... “Yes, I'm free now...”, he sighed. “I can stop being an asshole...” Tears choked him again. All those years they could've been together, all wasted. Morrie held him while he cried, wishing to be better at comforting people. “You weren't yourself, Nick...We've all been assholes on Joy.” “That's very kind of you, but you don't have to lie for me...I've been absolute shit.” Morrie's gentle hands kept comforting him.

“I don't know that, Nick. When I met you, the drugs had already taken a toll on you.” “Oh, god, I was a mess...No wonder you were disgusted. You expected a professional, a musical genius, but you got a rambling idiot instead. Not a Lightbearer.” “Now, now, Nick, you...” He was looking for compliments in his hateful memories. It felt like he turned his past upside down, but he craved a way to find the good inside it without betraying himself.

Nick had been graceful. He had been handsome. His fans had fallen on their knees in front of him. And he had tried to be good to Morrie. He had just...failed to fight his inner demons.

“You've been a true star, the idol of the entire town”, he brought out and blushed. “I was impressed.” “Really?” Nick looked up to him, eyes wet. Morrie wiped the tears away with his thumb. “Every time you broke out of your shell, you were dazzling...Er...Sorry, I sound like a staggering fan. I should stop.” “Are you kidding me? I love talking to my fans! They had the nicest compliments...” Nick sighed. “They were the only people that believed in me. I wonder if they miss me.” “They...” Morrie struggled for words. “They have no control over their memory.” “Right...that sucks.” “Yeah.”

Morrie quietly caressed him more. He didn't care if they searched the house today. They would do it when Nick was ready. Nick's hand suddenly wandered up to Morrie's chest and he gave him a flirty grin. “Anyway...you were saying...?” Morrie's heart beat faster. He cupped Nick's face and bit his lips, pondering if there were any words to describe what he had felt back then. Eventually, he decided for a kiss instead.

They began to carefully fondle each other. Morrie tasted the salty tears on Nick's cheeks and they only made him want more, to show his passion to him. Nick should know he'd be okay. Whatever happened in the past, it was over. It wouldn't haunt them.

Nick moved just as cautiously, what surprised Morrie. Usually, the man would conquer him with his tongue, playfully rubbing it against his, asking to play along. Now, his kiss felt more like a massage. Nick was slow but certain, pleasing Morrie. But the Wastrel couldn't fight the feeling that Nick was searching for reassurance. Morrie kept stroking his cheeks with his thumbs, hoping that the gesture gave him the right answer.

Nick felt wrapped into a comfy cloud and he thankfully sank deeper into it. He needed Morrie so much and for the first time, he thought he found the right way to tell him without driving him away. Morrie acted so gentle despite his hard shell. His hands were rough and scarred but much softer than any touch Nick remembered. He felt clumsy and gruff compared to him. He as the Golden God, who melted every heart he desired and made them shiver under his touch – but didn't he just break people and take what he needed? Morrie instead was delicate. Morrie was tender.

He melted Nick's heart like this, rendered him helpless. All Nick could do was...learning to be just as careful as him. Take in his passion, play by his rhythm, even though it hurt. And hell, did it hurt. His fans must've felt like that...Another reason to be sorry. Still, the way Morrie stroked him and held him close soothed him. He trusted Morrie. He knew he wouldn't let him fall.

When they parted, he felt like he was breathing for the first time. Morrie looked down at him with a bittersweet smile, wiping stubborn hair strands out of his face. “Are you okay?”, he whispered. Nick answered with a helpless smile and a nod. Morrie couldn't help kissing his forehead. “We don't have to go in there if you're uncomfortable”, he went on, looking over the wall to explain. Nick pondered. The house appeared to be less of a threat now. And with Morrie by his side...

He turned his head to look over the wall. Morrie's hands wandered down to his shoulders and stroked him there. “No, it's okay...I can make it..”, he answered, eyes wandering over rubble and ivy. Slowly, his curiosity came back. He didn't expect to be pulled back into a hug. “You're tough, Nick. But if you start feeling unwell, tell me... We'll turn back, no problem.” “Hmm....”, Nick purred. The sound tickled in Morrie's chest. “Gotta admit I feel better in your arms.” Morrie chuckled and swayed a little. “We can hug more later.” “I hope that's a promise.” “Sure. You get all the hugs you want.” “I'll take your word for it!”

They parted and laughed. Morrie climbed the fall first. Sitting on top, he held out a hand to help Nick up. Nick smiled widely at that. So many excuses for touches. This would be worth it. Nick took the hand and soon felt a firm grip that pulled him upwards.

[lathalea]

Day 29: Blame it on Cider, part 6

Today's fic for the Writer’s Month 2021 challenge (see @writersmonth for more info) is... yes, you guessed it, the next chapter of "Blame It on Cider"!

I tried to make it a bit fluffy towards the end, hope you'll enjoy it.

Also, this is not the last part - I will need around 1-2 parts more to wrap it all up after August ends. Will you forgive me?

Today's prompt: word: bed | setting: snowed in

Fandom: The Hobbit Relationships: Thorin x Yrsa (Dwarf Female OC) Rating: T Warnings: winter, cold, mentions of injuries (just a tiny bit), coziness, bickering & clueless Dwarves who don't know how to show their real emotions, fluff, also: errors because I have no time for anything these days and I need to sleep

As usual, you can read this fic here and on AO3.

Have you missed the previous parts? Here they are:

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

* * *

Blame It on Cider, part 6

There was only one bed in the cavern.

And there was a blizzard raging outside. Yrsa could hear the wind howling outside and a chill run down her spine at the recollection of the freezing snow burning her face. Now, something else burned her face, but it wasn’t the snow. It was Thorin’s gaze.

“Y-yes, let us go to sleep,” she finally spoke, stumbling over the words. So what if her cheeks were red? She wasn’t blushing, it was just the prolonged exposure to cold, nothing else! To be on the safe side, she turned away from the Dwarf who was sitting at the edge of the bed. Studying the cavern wall instead sounded like a very interesting thing to do. Unfortunately, the rock patterns were very, very uninteresting.

She heard a lengthy exhale. Or maybe it was the wind.

“Very well. I will sleep by the hearth,” he spoke after a pause and stood up with a grunt, keeling a bit towards right.

Yrsa glanced towards the hearth. There was nothing there. Only the hard stone ground. She blinked and glanced back at Thorin. There were beads of sweat on his forehead. Face tight with fatigue. Slightly glossy gaze. Dry lips. By Kaminzabdûna’s bosom, what kind of terrible herbalist she was? Why hadn’t she noticed it sooner? Bad Yrsa.

“Thorin, how long have you been feverish?”

“I am not. It is the cold,” he rumbled, moving away from her.

“It is not and we both know it! You need medicine!” Without thinking, she got up from the bed. Her ankle protested. Ouch. It was not a smart move.

“What are you doing?” Thorin was back by her side before she knew it, supporting her just before she fell on the floor.

“There are herbs in my sack, they will take the fever away!” She exclaimed, trying to ignore his arm wrapped around her waist and her arm pressed against him. He was so… so big and so... solid. Just like a blacksmith should. Wait! What blacksmith? Bad Yrsa, bad! He was a KING. The king. The ruler of another Dwarf clan, to be precise. Sooooo out of her reach. Even though she was pressed into his hard body, somehow forgetting about the pain. Damn it.

“I told you, Yrsa, it is not a fever,” he shrugged it off. And that was his greatest mistake. If there was one thing Yrsa hated, it was when her patients thought they knew better.

“Not a fever?! Then why is your forehead burning?” She pressed her palm against the aforementioned part of his anatomy. Her skin was cool. Thorin’s – on the contrary. And then his eyes closed, and he pressed his forehead into her hand. It had to be her imagination. Bad, bad Yrsa!

“It is nothing,” he offered in a low voice and finally his eyelids fluttered open, his sapphire gaze resting on her.

Yrsa swallowed. Her hand. Yes. She should take it away from his forehead. Just like this. She even managed to step back a bit, resting her hand against a wall for support. Bravo, Yrsa. And now – focus. Anger. Yes. Anger at a stubborn patient was good.

“If you think I am going to let you sleep on that cold floor while you’re feverish, you’re gravely mistaken!” she burst out.

“I have survived worse,” Thorin crossed his arms on his chest, his gaze burning with disapproval. But Yrsa didn’t care, not at all. His health was more important.

“Surely, judging from the amount of scars on you…” she cleared her throat. Go away, mental images! “What kind of a blacksmith are you to have such scars? Oh yes, I forgot, you happen to be a royal! Even more reasons to repose a soft bed than sleep on the ground like a mere peasant!” He grunted in response, “You are a woman, and you need to sleep on the bed.” “Because I’m smaller than you? Weaker? Is that it? You think I can’t handle it?” “It is obvious that you can handle quite a lot. But that is how I was raised. You are injured and need to recuperate. How are you supposed to walk out of here on your own once the snowstorm passes? You are taking the bed and that’s not up to discussion!”

“How about you listen to your own words?! Or are you planning to succumb to that fever and die here all alone? Because I’m not dragging you through those snows when your infection worsens! It is your leg, isn’t it?” He flinched, “I simply need to rest!” “Do you? It has been two months and it is still bothering you, don’t deny it! I saw the way you walk. You are saving it even when standing, like now! Don’t scowl at me. I was there when it happened, remember? You will show me your leg this instant!”

Her words echoed in the cavern. The dark-haired Dwarf in front of her gritted his teeth menacingly. Bad Yrsa. The kings don’t take well to being shouted at by simple Dwarf-women. She would hear a mighty roar in 3… 2… 1…

Thorin plopped down on the bed without a word, carefully stretching his left leg. As he did this, a small frown appeared on his face. It was something that she had missed before, or perhaps she was learning his facial expressions, but it only further confirmed her suspicions.

“Wait here,” she informed him.

“Let me--” he was trying to stand up again.

“No, you stubborn oaf, you will sit here and wait!”

Yrsa made a few awkward jumps on her good leg towards her traveling sack and returned to the bed with it, relieved by having packed everything she was about to need. As she was about to begin, she thanked her professional mind for being able to focus while they removed his trousers, uncovering Thorin’s muscular thigh covered with coarse dark hair. What worried her the most, was the fact that he still wore bandages and there was some blood seeping through. After removing them, she took a quick sniff at them and thanked Mahal wordlessly. The dressings didn’t smell bad and the wound looked better than expected. It was clear that there was no nasty gangrene attacking his body.

“So the arrow was poisoned, I see?” Yrsa spoke, working on the wound.

“It was. I took all the herbs you told me.”

“Good. Please relax your muscles if you can,” she cleaned his reddened skin and applied a healing salve. “But then you started using your leg too early.”

“I was either to use my leg or stay there, in the middle of the forest, waiting for another Orc attack. There were wounded among us. We needed to reach the city as soon as possible.”

“And how much rest did you have after returning home?”

Thorin clenched his hand into a fist, his knuckles white, but didn’t say a word. She finished bandaging his thigh and felt a wave of tiredness washing over her. It had been a long day, after all. Yrsa took a deep breath and lifted her head to meet Thorin’s gaze.

“What was so important that you ignored your injuries and kept on straining your leg?” She heard her own voice. It was for her patient’s own good. He had to learn from his mistakes. That was it, nothing else. And now she had to focus on mixing the correct amount of herbs with water.

“Do you know why I was here, in these parts?” Thorin replied after obediently drinking her mixture in one gulp. Perhaps she managed to talk some sense into him after all.

“Searching for more blacksmith work?” Yrsa offered.

He shook his head, his hair spilling generously over his broad shoulders, “I was searching for you.”

“Me?” Yrsa squeaked and her stupid heart did a silly flip. “Why?”

“I had to…,” Thorin paused. “ Someone close to me is unwell. Both our healer and apothecary tried everything, but she is not responding to their treatments. I do not know of any other healers in the area. At least not ones that would be eager to leave their prosperous practices at this time of the year. I thought perhaps that if I met you…”

Someone close to me.

Stupid Yrsa. It’s not like she expected a completely different answer.

“Of course. It would not be a problem. As soon as the trail is passable, we will reach my home, rest, and then I will go with you if the weather allows.” Slowly, almost hesitantly he covered her hand with his, making her skin tingle with warmth. She should have moved her hand away, but she couldn’t. Didn’t want to. Bad, bad Yrsa. He was not hers to have. Not any more.

“Thank you, Yrsa, I appreciate it greatly,” his murmur reached her ears at the same moment when he retracted his hand, her skin lamenting the disappearance of his warmth.

“This is what I do. I’m a herbalist, remember?” She tried to chuckle, but it sounded hollow. Someone close to me.

“In addition to payment, I am offering food and lodgings for you. If you wish to take Ursarusê with you, she will be a welcome guest, just like you. And if you are searching for a home for her… we have several childless families who might be interested in taking her in.”

“I’m going to keep her and raise her as my own,” there. She said it aloud and there was no turning back. It had been only several months since that sweet pebble appeared in her life, but she already missed her greatly. Yrsa couldn’t imagine giving her Little Flame away forever. Even if her decision meant changing her life completely.

“A honourable choice,” he nodded with a soft smile. “Will she follow you on your travels?”

“I will have to settle down in my city. My family will be thrilled, they have wanted me to settle down for ages, even though my mother claims that I will never catch a good husband now, but I don’t mind. I don’t expect much income, since there are plenty of healers in our city already, but I will manage.”

“I believe this is the time for me to speak. There is something that I wished to tell you a year ago. My proposal...” Thorin’s eyes searched her face.

“Your... proposal?” she gasped. “But… but how? Why would you want to propose to me? Your sweetheart is ill, you are worried for her so much that you decided to search for me in a snowstorm, and now you want to ask me to marry you because of something that happened more than a year ago?!”

Thorin tilted his head slightly and… laughed.

“I knew you had a brilliant mind, but I see you have a very vivid imagination as well.”

“What is so funny? Are you mocking me?” she grunted. Was he delirious? Those herbs were supposed to fight off the fever, not make him hallucinate!

“I wouldn’t dare! You threatened to turn me into a toad once, remember?” he chuckled, “I am the last person to say no to a witch.” Yrsa protested, “I told you that I’m a herbalist! And I don’t like being laughed at!”

“Forgive me, my lady,” his chuckles subsided and a shadow passed over his face. “I do not have a sweetheart. It is my mother who needs assistance. Her cough is worrying me.”

His mother. But that means he is not spoken for. That means… Bad Yrsa. It doesn’t mean anything. Shut up, Yrsa’s frantically beating heart. Focus on what is really important here.

“Your mother…?” she mumbled, trying to hide her embarassment. “I’m sorry to hear she is unwell. Rest assured, I will do my best to help her.”

He acknowledged her words with a nod. “I hoped you would say that. And as for the other issue… As much as I am flattered that you considered the possibility of a marriage with me, my proposal was, or rather, is, not one of the matrimonial sort.”

“What is it then?” Yrsa asked carefully, forcing herself to sit still and breathe instead of screaming and running around in circles.

“We are in need of healers. There is only a handful of them in Halls of the Longbeards. You have probably heard that we don’t have much gold to offer, but we can pay in other ways, food, roof over your head, fuel for the winter, the work of our artisans... We have also started producing Ereborean steel once again,” Thorin said with a glint of pride in his eyes.

“I am listening,” she hummed. Even Yrsa heard about the legendary qualities of this steel. Her brothers would bore her with their lengthy tales of how many layers it had, how light and well-balanced the blades were, and so on, and so on. Most of the Dwarves in the Blue Mountains believed that the secrets of the forgemasters of Erebor had been lost forever when the dragon attacked.

“Oin, the apothecary, tells me about various herbs growing nearby, but he has not discovered all of their uses yet.”

“It sounds like an interesting challenge, I admit. Your area of the mountains is still mostly uncharted. What if I needed a workshop made to my specification, with a separate drying chamber?” Yrsa decided to test the waters a bit more.

“We can start working on it as soon as we receive the plans and drawings,” he replied swiftly and she couldn’t believe her ears. She expected lengthy haggling. Perhaps the Longbeards were more desperate than she thought.

“I see…,” Yrsa made a show of mulling over the words. “This is a generous offer, but I will need to sleep over it before I make my decision.”

“Very well. Take as much time as you need.” he started getting up from the bed.

“Where do you think you are going?!”

“It has to be close to midnight,” Thorin gestured at the hearth, or, to be precise, at the ground in front of it.

“Oh no, you are not! If you sleep on the floor, so will I!”

And then something very suspicious happened. The blacksmith king chuckled, lifted his hands in defeat, and said, “I am the last person to say no to a witch.”

Clearly, he was delirious.

***

They didn’t end up on the floor, of course. After all, the shepherds’ hut contained a proper bed that could fit both of them.

“We are only doing this to share body warmth,” Yrsa spoke solemnly, desperately trying to believe in her own words, and, surprise, surprise, failing miserably. She and Thorin were lying down on the bed, facing each other, but keeping a proper distance. Their bodies were snuggly covered by the blankets they found in the cavern and their coats served as the top layer. It was so very different from the last (and only) night they spent together, Yrsa admitted to herself and somehow she felt a pang of disappointment.

One of Thorin’s glossy eyebrows rose at her statement, “We have just added a fresh log to the hearth. It is warm enough already, wouldn’t you say?”

“Well, it is now, but the blizzard is still powerful. What if it gets colder later on?”

“If this happens, you are welcome to move closer to me. I promise to behave.”

Yrsa made a noncommittal grunt. How many pangs of disappointment could a Dwarf-woman endure?

***

Orange flames from the hearth painted the ceiling in otherworldly patterns when Yrsa opened her eyes. It took her a moment to realize where she was. Her feet were sticking out from under the blanket and freezing, so she quickly curled up under the covers, turning to her side, instinctively moving towards the source of incredible warmth she felt. The source in question was facing her. He had his eyes closed and his wavy hair was scattered on his doublet that served him as a pillow. In the faint firelight Thorin’s face looked much younger, much more peaceful, as if the merciful dreams would come every night with the sole purpose of taking his burdens away. His breathing was steady, but she gently pressed her wrist to his forehead. It was much cooler than before; a promising sign.

Yrsa wasn’t exactly sure why her hand lingered at his forehead, brushing away some of the soft, unruly strands. She didn’t know why her fingers traced one of his smooth eyebrows, slid down his temple and danced against his cheek, delving into his beard, feeling its slight coarseness. Her fingertips moved along the strong line of his jaw, and down his sinewy neck, drawn to the heat his whole powerful body radiated like moths to a flame. She always imagined kings to look like those stone statues, ancient, perfectly chiseled, cold and unfeeling, with golden crowns and long white beards, unbothered by the everyday lives of all the commoners. No one told her that a king could be so handsome, so full of life, barely over 100 years old, and not an elderly Dwarf ready to meet his maker; that he could have the body of a blacksmith, and that there would be an irregular battle scar at the side of his neck, and that his beard would need some trimming. Before she met Thorin, she didn’t know that a king could smile with his eyes instead of his mouth, that his crow’s feet would deepen and then a strange warmth would spill in her chest. She still remembered how he twirled her around to the music and how his lips tasted like cider.

But now, she knew so many things about him. This was Thorin, the Dwarf of flesh and blood, not a lifeless statue.

Deep in her thoughts, Yrsa barely noticed when her curious fingers stopped at the collar of Thorin’s undershirt, unconsciously brushing against his clavicle. That was when his breathing quickened.

“Yrsa?” he mumbled, never opening his eyes, his hand moving towards her across the blanket they slept on.

“I’m here,” she covered his broad hand with hers.

He muttered something in response.

“All is well, Thorin, you can sleep more,” as soon as she whispered these words, a strong arm pulled her towards him, pressing her against the hardness of his chest. A scent of pines tickled her nose, and she felt enveloped in a large cocoon of warmth, her feet no longer cold, her worries forgotten, and Yrsa decided that this was not a bad place to be at when a blizzard raged outside.

She was drifting off to sleep when Thorin muttered something again, nuzzling her hair on the top of her head and holding her close. Yrsa’s last coherent thought filled her hazy mind, making her understand his words.

“My Harsûna,” he said and never let her go throughout the night, even when the flames died out in the early hours of the morning.

To be continued...

* * *

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

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