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sunnysidevans · 3 years

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 : 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧

Summary: Everyone goes through stages in life, meeting new people, falling in love, getting married , having children. Some people think it won’t happen to them but maybe fate hadn’t lead you in the right direction.

Warnings: Fluff!! hint of smut but mostly fluff!!! swear words for sure

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

PREVIOUS STAGE | THE STAGES MASTERLIST

Authors note: I am so sorry with how long it has taken me to post this. I hope you enjoy every bit of this as much as i did writing it and only two more stages to go!! what?! Happy Reading everyone!

READERS POINT OF VIEW

They say the honeymoon phase doesn’t last very long, They say at the beginning of every relationship is the honeymoon phase. For you and Chris, you were living your honeymoon phase, only being married a full two weeks of course. “I need that month off Megan, we talked about this already” Chris paced the bedroom as he was on the phone with Megan, his publicist. You sat on the bed as you watched him continue to pace, you continued to fold his boxers as you admired the gold band that sat on his left hand, as it sat perched on his hip, a sign of his frustration. You couldn’t believe you and Chris were going away for a month, It was exciting. You heard a heavy sigh as you looked up and met his tired eyes. You sat up, your wife instincts kicking in quickly and made grabby hands towards the phone, a grin formed on his face as he handed you the phone, already knowing this was not going to end well. “Oh megan, Hi! I know we don’t talk much but hey listen, Chris and I just got married, literally a full two weeks ago, and he is a person too, and by that I mean he is entitled to a honeymoon with his wife” you put the emphasis on wife as you continued “so with that being said, no contacting ANYONE for a public appearance from chris, no zoom meetings nothing, if he decided to work that is on him, now you leave us alone so we can go and enjoy being newlyweds” you hung up the phone, tossing it aside on the bed as you met chris’s grinning face.

You watched his face contort into a grin as you let out a sigh of relief. “Okay that was very hot” he grinned as he climbed on the bed beside you with a smile. “I can’t stand that she is trying to schedule you for a bunch of shit when you literally JUST got married. Hell no am I gonna put up with that” you matched his grin as you leaned over to kiss his lip gently. You continued to fold his clothes into the suitcase with a soft hum “Are you okay with Scott coming over and taking care of the boys while we’re gone?” he asked after a comfortable few minutes of silence, you nodded quickly “oh of course! That's fine I want someone to take care of them, obviously!” you smiled as you turned to meet his eyes, “okay just making sure, I know sometimes the dogs mean more than me” he laughed at the look of daggers you sent his way “ha ha” you replied sarcastically. You watched his face as you continued to laugh “sometimes I think I would be better off marrying them” yo smirk as you turn back to the clothes with a laugh as you saw his face. You set the last shirt in his suitcase and move it off the bed as you lean over to be nose to nose with chris. “Is someone sad” you ask with a slight tease in your voice as soon a grin rose on his face as he tackled you to the bed, hovering over you he grinned “take it back” you laughed shaking your head quickly as he began to tickle your sides.

You squirmed on the bed as you tried to push his hands away from your sides, squealing as you laughed and tried to catch your breath “okay okay!” you yelled “I give I give” you pant as he sits up proudly. “See I knew you would, turd” he sticks his tongue out at you as he kisses your nose and flops down on the bed beside you. You smiled as you laid on the bed, panting trying to catch your breath as you smiled “i love you” you whispered as you looked at the ceiling, feeling his hand beside yours as he interlocked your fingers together “I love you even more baby”. Rolling off the side of the bed you got up to walk towards the closet to begin grabbing your clothes to start packing your bag. Looking over your shoulder you saw him sitting on the edge of the bed with a perplexed look on his face. “You okay handsome?” you asked, walking to stand in front of him. “I’m so excited to go on this vacation with you. I mean not even a vacation, our honeymoon, where we can, start our family and begin our journey even farther in this life” he rested his hand on your waist as you rested your hand on his shoulders, with a smile you kissed the top of his head, “I can’t wait to get started on this life with you, I can’t wait to have little baby evans’s and I can’t wait to be a family with you” you smiled, tilting his chin up leaning down and connecting your lips.

TWO DAYS LATER

Leaning down in front of Dodger and Zeus you give them both kisses to the top of their heads as Chris loaded the car with your bags. Scott stood behind you, shaking his head “you act like you’ll never see them again” you looked over your shoulder with furrowed eyebrows “you sound like your brother, I swear they’re my kids” you stood as you scratched behind their ears, looking back at him with a smile. Scott laughed as Chris came back inside from putting the luggage away “I don’t even wanna know why my wife looks mad at you” he laughed walking by Scott. “I just told her she acts like I’m gonna kill the poor dogs, she acts like she’ll never see them again” Scott replied, as Chris laughed from the kitchen “They are our kids! You need to take care of them!” he laughed as Scott scoffed “Let's get you two out of here”. Climbing into the car you squeezed Chris’s hand as you smiled, “off to paradise” you smiled looking out the window as you watched Massachusetts fall behind and the beginning of your month vacation with your husband.

As the plane lands you grin as you look out the window at the beautiful sunshine. You and Chris decided to go somewhere tropical for your honeymoon, of course you just wanted an excuse so see him out in the open, tattoos and all. You smiled as you looked around the hotel room as you set your bag down. Walking to the windows you looked out at the clear blue water, you looked over your shoulder at Chris as he looked around “Everything looks good, especially the women standing in front of the window” he smirked as he wrapped his arms around you tightly kissing your shoulder slowly, you rested your hand on his as you giggled laying head back “I can’t wait for the next few days” you smiled. You pushed your way past Chris to your suitcase as you dug through for your swimsuit, as you were interrupted “why bother? You do know we're on this side alone baby? No uneven tan lines” he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively as you laughed, “okay valid point” You grinned as you started to strip down and made your way out to sit beside the water. Chris following suit as you both laid down on the cots provided you traced the dodger tattoo on his peck, with a content sigh as you looked up at him lovingly, leaning up you connected your lips with his. As you adjusted to be closer to Chris he pulled you closed and pulled you into his lap as he deepened the kiss, as you pulled away you mumbled “let's take this inside Mr.Evans” you grinned as he picked you up “I couldn’t agree more”.

Rolling over in the satin sheets you yawned, rubbing your eyes as your eyes adjusted to the sun peaking through the curtains. You smiled as you saw the man lying beside you, after everything the both of you needed a nap, and as he slept all the memories came running through your head. You smiled as you thought back to the night you met him, having no idea who he was, as you had no idea he was a huge Hollywood name, you smiled as you laid back down beside him, as he yawned. With a mumble he grinned “are you awake?” as you smiled tracing his back slowly whispering “yeah baby” he rolled over to face you as he kissed the top of your head gently. “You look perplexed, what's on your mind?” he mumbled as he plays with a piece of your hair “I just can’t believe this is my life, I can’t believe were married” you shrugged as you looked back up at him “I can’t believe fate brought you to me” you smiled as he grinned “aww is my baby getting sappy on me” you laughed as you pushed his chest gently as he didn’t move. “Oh shut up you big lug” you smiled as you laid back down on the bed, You were content, laying beside your husband on a beautiful island, you were ready for wherever this journey was going to take you, with your husband right beside you.

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans fic #chris evans x you #chris evans angst #chris evans fluff #chris evans fanfiction #Chris Evans fanfic #chris evans fandom #christopher robert evans #chris evans x y/n

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jesusjoshuamorrissey · 4 years

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Watermelon Sugar-Travis Konecny

AN: I haven’t written in a long time and wrote this last night. It has absolutely no editing, but please enjoy.

Warnings: Swearing, explicit oral sex, explicit sex in general. This is just TK porn.

Word Count: 1512

Your skin was hot and slightly sticky with sweat as you laid back onto your towel. The sun was starting to set, casting vast shades of orange and pinks across the low water. TK had brought you to the secluded beach as a day off, away from all the stress that came with being with him: dealing with his busy schedule, keeping up with him and his friends shenanigans, and all the problems his fans liked to give you for being with him. Today was just the two of you and the ocean, and it made up for all the weight the past season had put on the both of you.

“God, you look beautiful today.” TK compliments, sitting next to you. His slightly wet hair under his hat, sunglasses splattered with salt marks, and freshly tanned skin made him look just as amazing as he thought you were. “I could just eat you up right here.”

His hand started to lazily trail down your stomach, drawing circles occasionally, before he gets to the hem of your bathing suit. TK thumbs softly at it, before moving away and allowing his fingers to dance across your collarbone. You should have known he would do something like this, he was never not in the mood to be with you. Trying to ignore the electric feeling of his fingers you turn to look at him, his lips were slightly swollen from the sun making them even more inviting than usual. He catches you staring and smirks softly, knowing you’re picturing his lips all over your body.

“Like my lips today sweetie?” He asks, pulling his bottom lip through his teeth.

“Shut the fuck up and kiss me Travis.” You reply, grasping the back of his neck and pulling him in to meet your lips.

His lips were salty against yours, and you needed more. TK had his tongue in your mouth before you could ask, and he was slowly moving himself on top of you. His body met yours with his familiar weight, skin sticking together momentarily as he became comfortable above you. Snaking his fingers down your neck he starts pulling at the string to your bikini top, tossing it aside once untied. The kiss breaks as he looks down at your now exposed chest, if there was one thing he loved it was to worship you and your tits were his favorite.

“How’d I get so lucky to be with you?” He asks, tracing a tan line.

TK’s index finger follows the tan line back to your lips, you part them softly and slip his finger into your mouth, sucking lightly. His eyes go wide and a small ‘fuck’ falls from his lips. Teasing him like that drove him crazy, one slight glance down his body could tell you it was working. The muscles in his chest were pulled tight, his bronzed arms were defined as he tensed a fist trying to relax himself, and the very noticeable bulge in his green swim trunks let you know you were having the same effect on him as he had on you. He pulls his finger from your mouth and you give a small pout, you could see in his eyes he wanted to replace his finger with his cock desperately. He blinks the thought away before dipping to kiss your chest. He licks along the edge of paler skin next to the tan line, sending shivers through your body. A whimper falls from your lips as he suddenly takes your nipple in his mouth, sucking roughly.

His tongue finds every inch of skin, pulling your nipples between his lips occasionally as he moves. You moan when he softly bites your right nipple, the sound causes him to grind his hips down against yours. Kisses start to trail away from your tits and down your stomach. TK takes his time, moving slower than molasses as he worships you, mumbling praise against your skin. His fingers loop through your bikini bottoms as he slips them down your legs, scattering kisses on your thighs as he does. Leaning on his knees, TK takes you in laid out in front of him. Your legs were spread, pussy glimmering in the sunset.

“I love you so much.” Travis states before placing a kiss to the inside of your left knee. His fingers slide through your folds, teasing you even more. You were soaking wet for him, he smirked bringing his fingers to his lips and sucking your juices off them. “And you clearly need me, but I want to hear you say it.”

“I love you. And I need you.” Every muscle in your body was aching for him, you just wanted to pull him in again, make him touch you where you need him.

“What part of me do you want?”

“Your lips. Your mouth.”

His smirk falters momentarily, that wasn’t the answer he had expected but he would never turn down an opportunity to taste you. He licks his lips before laying flat on his stomach, arms wrapping around your thighs. His hot breath against your lips was driving you insane, he could never get enough of teasing you. You knock his hat off and drag your fingers through his hair, doing everything but verbally begging him. A kiss is finally pressed against your clit and you exhale loudly. TK starts slow, little kitten licks on your clit. You can feel his satisfied smirk on your lips before he finally gives in. He licks through your folds multiple times, tongue hard and flat as if he was trying to collect every last drop of wetness he possibly could. His lips then attach to your clit as he sucks, listening to your moans and feeling your hands grip his hair. He dips his tongue into you, and the orgasm that had just started to build washes over you. He groans, swallowing as much of your juices as he possibly can. TK continues to eat you out, this time with more hunger in his movements. His tongue moves faster, he sucks more harshly, and he hums against your clit. He pushes you to your second orgasm fast, and then settles back to kitten licking at your pussy.

“Fuck, you’re really good at that Trav.” Your voice shaky, as your boyfriend continues lapping up your juices.

“It’s easy when you're sweet like strawberries.” He replies, removing himself from between your legs and moving up to kiss you, chin wet with your cum. You swipe as much as you can off with your thumb before taking it in your mouth and sucking it off. “See don’t you taste good baby?”

You nod and hum in reply. He was back on top of you, lazily kissing you. You could feel his cock hard against your pussy, still trapped in his bathing suit. Your fingers trail their way down to his hips and along his strained muscles, you play mindlessly with the hem of his shorts knowing he was going to lose his composure quickly. You place a hand on his chest and push him off you and on his back on the towel next to you. His eyes fall sad like a wounded puppy momentarily before you mount his hips.

TK’s head hits the sand as you finally untie and tug his shorts off. His cock presses to his stomach, leaving a small pool of precum on his skin. You lean down and lick it off, his hand finding the back of your thigh to grip as he swallows a groan. Gripping his cock, you start to slowly move up and down his shaft listening to his labored breaths. It had been a while since you had this type of control over Travis, and it felt like forever since you fully felt him in you as you thought of all the options you could choose from to get him off. A breath hitches in your throat as you settle yourself on his cock, hand on his stomach to balance yourself. His eyes shut as he lets the feeling of your cunt around him spread through his body. He looked incredible like this; vulnerable and reliant on your movement. You start to slowly move yourself up and down, before finding a rapidly quickening pace. TK swears under his breath as you move, still gripping your thigh but eyes open to watch your tits bounce with you. The last thing you want to do is slow down, he fills you perfectly and his groans are all the motivation you need to keep bouncing. His fingers dig into your skin as he cums, filling you. He rolls his head back as you bounce a few more times before hitting your third orgasm and collapsing onto him.

Both of you lay too sensitive to move, him softening inside you. This was exactly the type of relaxation he owed you, breaths heavy and uneven. You place a small kiss to his jaw, smiling to yourself.

“Thank you, that was the perfect way to end today.” You whisper.

#travis konecny #travis konecny smut #philadelphia flyers smut

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unsettledink · 3 years

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Uneven - Fluffuary Day 5

Prompt: Sunburn

Word Count: 671

Summary: It's completely Tony's fault they get sunburnt.

Peter’s skin is on fire.

Really, it’s Tony’s fault. After all, Tony is the one who brought them here. Who said that what they both needed was some sun and some time away from everyone else. Tony who just happened to have a private island on hand—or maybe he just knew someone who did, Peter’s not entirely clear on that point—and Tony is definitely the one that has a private plane that got them here.

And it’s mostly Tony who started making out on the beach after they’d been swimming and moved on to lounging on towels. And totally Tony who— okay so maybe it was Peter who’d actually ended up getting them off, and it was Peter who’d whined and refused to move, so maybe it is at least partly Peter’s fault that they fell asleep directly in the sun.

Maybe partly Peter’s fault they’d both gotten horribly sunburnt.

Tony spends the entire ride back whin— complaining about how much it hurts and how much it’s going to hurt and how badly he’s going to peel. He turns the air up to the coldest it will go and keeps his shirt off while he parks himself directly in front of one of the vents.

Peter’s feeling it too, his skin tight and itchy and so hot, but he feels bad enough that he doesn’t say anything about it. Especially since even though he’s just as—actually more—sunburnt than Tony, his is not going to last nearly as long.

In fact, by the time they’ve gotten back to the tower, Peter has already lightened a few shades. Tony glares at him.

“This is unfair,” he says. “Completely, utterly unfair.”

“At least it’s only on your back?” Peter tries.

“It’s on my ass,” Tony mutters.

True.

Tony goes straight for a shower once they’re in— not cold, but very, very cool, and Peter joins him. Even if he doesn’t hurt as much, he still hurts.

And Tony whines.

As bad as Peter still feels, he’s starting to suspect it’s a little put on.

Or maybe not, he thinks when Tony falls face down on the bed after poking Peter’s nearly faded tan. The sigh Tony lets out is small and miserable, and the way he slumps is pretty sad. “Can I do anything?” Peter asks. “Is there uh, something I can put on it? Aloe maybe?”

Tony’s quiet. “Yeah,” he says finally, muffled into the bed. “I don’t know how much it'll actually help, but it can’t hurt, right? Go for it.” He shifts, folding his arms under his head. “I’ll take anything at this point, oh my god.”

Peter tries really, really hard to be gentle as he carefully rubs the gel across Tony’s back; Tony groans at the first touch and for a moment, Peter’s worried. “Okay,” Tony says, “yes, yeah that is better, wow.”

“Good,” Peter says, and gets to it. “I feel bad,” he adds as he smooths his hands over Tony’s back. “I should have let you take me inside. I didn’t think we’d fall asleep, honest.”

“Oh, hey, no—” Tony starts to push himself up, pressing against Peter’s hands and hissing in pain. Peter yanks his hands away but Tony’s already settled back down, just turning his head so he can see Peter. “It’s not your fault, baby. You didn’t do anything.” He sighs. “I’m just— bitching. I hate getting sunburnt, that’s all.”

Peter gets another palmful of gel and goes for Tony’s shoulders this time, and his neck. When Tony groans, Peter just goes slower, running his hands along Tony’s arms as well. His skin isn’t just red, it’s hot to the touch, scalding. The gel is making his fingers cold and making Tony’s skin feel even hotter, impossibly so. “I’m still sorry,” Peter says. “Next time let’s go at night. Go stargazing or firelight or something.”

“Northern lights from a jacuzzi,” Tony mumbles. “Sounds perfect right now,” and it actually sounds pretty weird.

But if Tony's there, Peter will enjoy it.

AO3

#fluffuary #starker #ironspider #tony x peter #my work #fanfiction

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wittystiles · 4 years

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The Bluff || Part 17 || Mitch Rapp

author: wittystiles

word count: 2k+

relationship: Mitch Rapp x Reader

warnings: none

A/N: Hello there! I’m back - sorta - finally. I got a weird urge to write this the other day, after not thinking about it for months. And I wrote this in two days. It isn’t edited, so if it’s terrible, that’s why. Please enjoy! Feedback is crucial, as well, so... Please reblog, comment, etc. I’m a whore for validation.

Turning his back to the shower head, Mitch closed his eyes and let the water beat on his face as he leaned his head back. He had spent a good portion of the beginning of his shower with the water beating down on his chest while he thought. He hated that he was doing that. Just /thinking/. Hated standing there going over everything in annoying detail, trying to pick apart every thought he had.

Spain.

He didn’t know what emotions he was feeling or how to process everything. He had started his shower angry. Partially because of Stans intrusion, but mostly because he was being forced to leave. Again. He’d just gotten a plan into action to keep (Y/N) safe. Surely that should take precedence over whatever mission they were throwing him in to.

Halfway through shampooing his hair for the second time (it felt particularly gritty underneath his fingertips and one wash hadn’t sated him) his emotions switched to being an uncomfortable mix of what he could only decipher as disappointment and a dash of sadness. During the time it had taken him to clean up her apartment, catch a few winks and then return to his own home he’d made the foolish mistake of letting his mind wander into dangerous fields of possibilities with his rescue.

While he was sweeping up a pile of broken glass he’d imagined buying plates with her, and cups too. Thought of the dull domesticity of the action. Of watching her get excited over an owl mug - he didn’t even know if she liked owls. Of picking something out that would be theirs. Together. To share.

That had led his mind into a whirlwind of further ‘our’s’. Like picking out a new bed with her, he’d decided his current wouldn’t be big enough for the two of them. Sure she was a cuddler, but she also valued her space grately when she decided to splay out. Arguing over a new couch because his ‘simply wouldn’t do’. Getting new large and plush towels so he could wrap her up after a shower and she would be covered and warm. He knew she hated shivering after getting out of a hot shower and figured that would be the only way to prevent it.

His mind had crafted an entire life together in the hours he’d had to dwell on everything. And now that he knew he was leaving her again, it all felt pretty fucking pointless to him. Foolish. The disappointment set in then. The disappointment of never being able to experience those simple moments with her. He knew they were imagined, but he wished he could bring them to fruition. And now? Now he was going to be away for only God knew how long. And she would be gone when he returned. He was sure.

She was a smart (albeit naive) young woman. She was charming, and beautiful. And she wasn’t going to wait around in some dingy apartment of some dude who she’d only known a month. Especially when the only reasoning for her to be there in the first place was his protection. Protection which he could no longer offer her while in Goddamned Spain.

That was when the sadness began creeping into his brain like a thick ooze. It occurred to him while he was massaging conditioner into his too-long locks (he really needed a haircut he remembered), that this was the first time since he’d lost his fiancee that he was wanting someone. That he was envisioning himself giving more to another person than just a one night stand. He found himself thinking of a future with (Y/N). Of a life together. He knew he was falling for her, but these last 24 hours had cemented into his mind the fact that he truly, in all sense of the word, wanted her. Wanted to give everything he could to her. Wanted to take a terrifying plunge into oblivion and hope against every instinct telling him to run that she wouldn’t destroy him.

The folder on the counter was taking that. Was washing all of those hopes and thoughts and visions away. His last mission (her) had kept him away from his home for over a month. What if this one were the same? What if he had to abandon her for that long? He couldn’t bring himself to think of anything bad, truly awful, happening to her. He’d already allocated too much time to terrible thoughts when he’d found out her apartment had been broken into. He instead thought of something he found worse.

Of losing her to someone else.

The sadness thickened when he came to that conclusion. If he returned and found she’d moved on -.

He stopped himself. She was never his. She wasn’t someone he could claim. She couldn’t ‘move on’ when she never had stopped. She was under his protection. She looked to him as a source of safety, security. He was, for all intents and purposes, her bodyguard. He couldn’t let himself get worked up over the thought of coming home and finding her in the arms of another. That was her right. Couldn’t let the jealousy that was beginning to eat at the corners of his mind ever become a thing. He didn’t have her. He would never have her.

“Fuck,” he mumbled to himself, cranking the handle of the shower all of the way to the left. The water ran cold while he was lost in thought and it made his body tense and shiver. He stood there for a moment, letting the cold water beat down on his body with his hand rest upon the wall, and the anger came back.

“Fucking Stan.”

When the water heated back up, he took his hand off the wall. He resumed showering as normal, remembering to let the condition sit in his hair for longer than normal after the three shampooings (he’d forgotten he’d already washed twice). He used the remains of his loofah to clean himself, and promptly tossed the mangled thing out of the shower onto the floor beside the trash can.

Once washed off and hair free of product, he stepped out onto the bath mat outside of the shower, ripping his towel off the rack. He secured it around his waist and surveyed the bathroom. A thick cloud of steam was in the air and he had to crack the bathroom door open to let some of it out. He walked to the counter, using his left hand to rub the mirror in a circular motion so he could clear off some of the fog. He saw himself through droplets of water and the corners of his mouth fell.

He looked tired.

Worse, he looked exhausted. Thoroughly beaten and worn. His eyes were a little sunken in, dark purple coloring his under eyes. His face had a near beards worth of stubble, and his cheeks were more hollow than usual. By all accounts he looked like he hadn’t been taking care of himself. Which was true. He hadn’t. He couldn’t remember his last full meal, and the last restful nights sleep he’d had was after showering with (Y/N).

His throat constricted when he remembered it. Thought back to looking down at her on his knees in front of him, lips spread wide and eyes looking up at his own. He closed his eyes, tilting his head down, leaning heavier against the counter. His mind vividly painted the scene against his eyelids. She was so gentle and attentive to him. So willing and accepting. He swallowed hard.

The memory switched to that next morning. Of his head between her thighs. Of how she felt against his tongue, soft and warm. Of how she wriggled and moved and how her breath would catch.

“Stop,” he hissed to himself, forcing his eyes open, willing himself to keep from getting hard. He returned his attention to the reflection in the mirror. He could see himself clearer now that the fog had subsided and the condensation had evaporated from the surface. His skin remained tanned from his trip to Mexico a few months back. He didn’t think he’d ever spent that much time in the sun consecutively in his life. The scar on his chest from that day stood out. He brought his hand away from the counter to rub the tips of his fingers over it. He hated it. There were several other scars placed along his chest and abdomen. He paid them no attention. His jaw tightened. It alarmed him how his life had been upended that day. How everything changed in the span of ten minutes. How he would never again be the same. Be sane. Be normal.

“Come on man,” he whispered to himself, letting his hand linger on the scar for a few heartbeats before lowering. He resumed examining his face, his hair, his body. He decided he hated his hair. It needed to be shortened. “You look like a fuckin’ hippie,” he said in his best impression of Stan’s voice.

Mitch stepped back from the counter and opened the doors underneath, rooting around for a moment before finding a pair of scissors. He stood upright and ran his hand through his hair. Without hesitation he raised the scissors and cut off a chunk of hair that was hanging limply against his shoulder. He let it fall into the basin of the sink and repeated the process, over and over, letting the hair accumulate until he felt like he was done.

He set the scissors done and assessed himself in the mirror, looking over the sloppy job he’d done. His hair was now just underneath his chin, uneven but passable. He found his brush in his medicine cabinet and raked it through his hair, pressing his lips together in contemplation. He wasn’t entirely proud of his new cut now that he’d brushed it and he could see it better, but it would do.

He brushed his hands over his shoulders to get rid of the stray hair, dried off and left the bathroom. He would deal with the sink later. As he was passing through the living room towards his closet a knock sounded against his front door. He paused, arching an eyebrow. If someone who didn’t favor him was on the other side of the door, he didn’t want to have to fight them naked. He grabbed the gun that was stuffed between the cushions of the couch, figuring it would even the playing field, and approached the door as another knock rang out.

He didn’t bother checking the peephole, instead pulling the door open about an inch, looking at the person through the crack. When he could process who it was his eyes widened and he stepped back, allowing the door to open fully. “Why are you here?”

(Y/N) frowned at him. “You said you’d be back like -” she looked down at her cracked phone. “Over two hours ago. I got hungry, and I remembered you told me your address before you left.. So..” She held up a plastic bag. “Can I come in?”

He stepped to the side, allowing her to enter the apartment. He couldn’t help but feel embarrassed by how unkempt and poorly decorated it was. She walked around him and headed for the small kitchen at the back of the apartment, acting like she’d been there hundreds of times. “Thanks,” she called over her shoulder as she set the bag down. Mitch closed the front door and engaged the deadbolt before following her.

“I’m sorry that I took so long,” he began, resting his hands on his hips to keep his towel secure. “I got caught up with some things and I needed to have a shower.”

She turned her attention to him and her eyes narrowed, “what the hell did you do?”

He took a step back from her, furrowing his brows in confusion. “Pardon me?”

“To your hair,” she clarified, pointing her finger at him.

“Cut it.”

She scoffed a mocking laugh, “cut it? You fucking hacked it to pieces! Jesus. Did you close your eyes and just start snipping?”

Mitch brought his hand up to his hair, running his fingers through it while feeling defensive. “I thought I did an okay job.”

She shook her head, closing the distance between them to close her hand around his arm. “An ‘okay job’, Mitch? Are you blind?” She began walking towards his bathroom, tugging him along. He wanted to resist, to put up a fight but instead followed her dutifully. She released his arm and motioned to the toilet, which he took a seat on immediately.

She looked over the sink and sighed heavily, picking up the brush and scissors. “This is going to take forever to fix,” she declared, beginning to drag the brush through his locks.

Mitch let her brush his hair as he fought the smile that wanted to creep onto his lips. He found all of his thoughts in the shower were pushed to the back burner because /she was here./ She’d come to him, willingly.

Maybe this means she might want me too, he thought hopefully as she got to the real work.

Feedback is appreciated! I hope you enjoyed.

Tags: @ellie-bee242 , @cathobs , @redstringlovers , @lovefilledtragedy , @sumcp, @teamwolf2411, @confidentrose, @daddyxraeken, @iloveteenwolf24-blog, @kalista-rankins, @stilinski-stydia-obrien, @rumoured-whispers, @omgimafuckingmermaid, @cuillere, @dylan-void, @kaelyn-lobrutto24, @fuckwhateverfuck, @maxytwombly, @itsamberh, @haveyoumetmeyet, @kal-pal, @infinitstydia, @thenovarose, @anamcg317, @terriblewife, @thelonesoul, @rebeccaannex3, @behind-my-hazeleyes27, @girlwiththerubyslippers, @x-mitch-rapp-x, @mainlymieczyslawstilinski, @veronicarapp, @kaylinfayezink, @a–1–1–3, @rxppmxtch, @lietomeat3am, @xxxxdelenaxxxx, @mentalc0re, @gendryia, @ashotofblues, @dancingalone21, @16wiishes, @a–1–1–3, @assholeofthanos, @gothcryptid-gf, @yuslut,

#sam writes #sams post #sam posts #mitch rapp #mitch rapp one shot #mitch rapp x reader #mitch rapp fan fic #mitch rapp imagine #mitch rapp fanfiction #mitch rapp fanfic #mitch rapp fic #mitch rapp fan fiction #dylan obrien fanfic #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan obrien fic #dylan obrien oneshot

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fericita-s · 4 years

Text

Mating Season (Chapter 2)

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

Thank you all for reading and thank you @the-spastic-fantastic for reading before anyone else, helping me develop the story and offering such great suggestions and edits.

***

“Where exactly will you stay?” Her father seemed to be the most doubtful about the wisdom of this trip, though Elsa had already arched an eyebrow that morning and asked “You’re going to Black Mountain for the reindeer? Really? The reindeer?”

“They have a fully-supplied medical cabin with no one to see to it, so that’s where I’ll be. And I already asked Ryder to go and help me, so I won’t be completely alone! And you trust him - he’s practically related to us.”

“They invited Ryder too?” Iduna had already started lists of what Anna would need to bring, what she wasn’t sure could be found in the woods of the Black Mountain, or what would be too difficult to gather in the winter months.

“No, Kristoff invited me. I invited Ryder.”

Agnarr gaped. “This is a diplomatic and humanitarian mission! You can’t just invite whoever you want!”

Iduna put a hand on Agnarr’s shoulder. “Agnarr, this is hardly as strict of a plan as all that. Tribes have been lending each other people and supplies and expertise and knowledge in every way for hundreds of years. It’s how we survive. “ She turned to look at Anna. “But Anna, I know how you get. You can’t dismiss him and his entire tribe if you don’t like how he chews his food one night. You’ve agreed to go and even if you tire of him, you will stay until calving in the spring.”

“This is not about him!”

Agnarr looked relieved, but Iduna smiled and said “We’ll see.”

***

“Anna, you go with the blessing of our people and the spirits. May you bring these blessings to the Black Mountain as well.” Yelana lowered her hands from her formal declaration and drew close to Anna, her voice directly in her ear. “Be patient. Learn. And remember you are a guest. Be polite.”

“Well, I already told Kristoff he’s too serious and irritable and sad. And that was before he asked me to come. So I think everything will be alright.”

Yelana shook her head and stepped backwards. “Please, just try to keep our relationship with Black Mountain a good one.

***

Elsa helped her pack some books and clothes into a pack that would be loaded along with the many parcels and packets of medicines that Iduna had prepared.

“Do you still think this is a good idea?” Elsa handed her another pile of books as she asked the question. Anna began the impossible task of choosing some and leaving others.

“Of course!” Anna looked at Elsa and saw the disbelief on her face. “You belong here. You and the spirits, you all fit together. I fit here mostly, but I often feel restless. I think it’s time to go explore a bit. And besides, it’s just through the rest of fall, all winter, and most of spring. That’s hardly any time at all!”

Elsa laughed. “It’s enough time for reindeer to conceive and calve and be ready to do so again. I wonder what else might happen.”

Anna rolled her eyes. “I can’t imagine what you mean.”

***

Kristoff watched as Ryder and Anna joined the procession of Black Mountain as they left the Northuldra lands. Many came up to give them final embraces or parting words, and Kristoff saw their sisters waving from the ridge. He saw Anna smile and his chest tightened, a joyful sensation that also made him wonder at his boldness in asking her. It was a good thing for his people. They needed medical help and she was good at it. But that wasn’t why his palms began to sweat at the sight of her, and why he was eager to seek out her company on the journey home.

***

Ryder nudged Anna. “Look, you can see it now, just there.”

Anna’s eyes shifted to where Ryder was pointing. She saw the rise of a dark mountain, stark against the white clouds. It looked like it could be a column of smoke. Anna wondered if it was as hostile to life as it looked.

Up close, its craggy edges were sharper than it had been at a distance. It was beautiful, but in a way that gave Anna a tingling feeling on her spine. It was entirely unknown. It didn’t seem friendly like her mountain. This one was dark, with exposed roots and crumbling boulders and loose dirt giving her the sense that the mountain was trying to escape itself.

“Ryder, doesn’t it just seem...dangerous to you? This mountain?”

Ryder clapped her on the back. “You’re just homesick for our Earth Giants and their greenery. It’s the spruce-firs that make The Black Mountain look like that. Kristoff told me. Up close I bet we’ll see life.”

She was eager to get to know it. What if it was a friendly mountain, but no one ever asked it to be? She made Ryder promise that they would go explore the first chance they had.

That’s why, after a few days of welcomes and learning everyone’s names, setting up the medical supplies in the cabin, and ensuring the Northuldra reindeer were following the rest of the herd, Kristoff found Anna and Ryder climbing an outcropping of rocks at the base of the mountain about ten feet above a meadow. And while the cliff wasn’t particularly high, the grasses of the meadow were unlikely to provide much of a cushion for their fall. It looked to Kristoff like they were both about to cause themselves serious injury.

These were the people he had brought back from Northuldra, the people he had promised his tribe would help bring about a year of renewal and health and security after a year of loss. Two people about to jump off a cliff.

“What are you two doing?” he ran forward, stumbling over roots in his haste.

Anna looked around. “We’re introducing ourselves to your mountain. The Earth Giants enjoy making paths and slopes for us, so we thought we’d give your mountain a chance to do the same.”

“That’s not how it works here! Please, turn around and come down this way.” Kristoff looked at Ryder, but Ryder was no help. He waved to Kristoff and jumped, a gleeful shout turning to a cry of pain as he collided with the ground. Anna and Kristoff scrambled down to where Ryder had collapsed on the ground and crouched over him.

“You can’t just jump off a cliff here! That was a ten foot drop!”

Anna felt Ryder’s legs and ankles. “You seem whole. Just some nasty bruises.” She stood and looked back up at the mountain. “I suppose it doesn’t want to talk to us like the Earth Giants do.”

Kristoff shook his head. “That’s what I told you! I trusted you in your forest. Trust me here. That kind of magic doesn’t happen!”

Anna nodded and he nodded back, relieved. “I’m sorry. I am trying to learn how things work here. I’ll keep learning and asking.” Her mind turned to the promises she had made Yelana about representing the tribe well. She stood and her back scraped against the rocky overhang. Anna stroked the rock face and whispered. "I'll be back," then looked at Kristoff, a smile on her lips. “I’m kidding! Of course I won’t. At least not to jump. Maybe just to talk. Anyway, let’s get him back to my cabin.”

She offered Ryder her hand and she and Kristoff both lifted him up. They supported him on either side, and when their hands brushed along Ryder’s back, Anna felt his fingers grip hers tightly. Together, they hobbled back to the medical cabin, where Anna situated Ryder in one of the cots.

***

Although he had no obvious fractures or serious injuries, Ryder was bruised and sore enough that he didn’t work with the roaming reindeer for the first few weeks he was there. Instead, he stayed in the medical cabin and mixed and pounded and dried and measured whatever Anna told him to. Eventually, she ran out of tasks for him and sent him to help with skinning and tanning.

Anna was always falling those first few weeks. On a walk with Kristoff to survey the herd she tripped on the uneven terrain. Kristoff righted her by grabbing her elbow and then kept an arm around her waist as they continued walking. Anna flushed at the contact, enjoying the feel of his large hand on her waist, which occasionally strayed to her back or her elbow to guide her as they continued their loop around the grazing grounds.

She blamed her clumsiness on the absence of the North Wind. “She always righted me whenever I stumbled! I was this hopeless in Arendelle too. I fell into the fjord the first day just trying to look into the water.”

Kristoff laughed. “Did you know how to swim?”

Anna nodded and then laughed as well, remembering. “I know how to swim, but I was wearing Arendellian clothing - dresses with layers and layers of fabric underneath - and I couldn’t swim in all that. So I had to pull down the bottom petticoats and emerged from the waters onto the pier without boots or stockings or crinolines or pantalettes. People were scandalized.”

Kristoff continued laughing and Anna noticed as his neck and face began to flush red. He ran his fingers through his hair. “That’s probably something everyone still remembers to this day.”

“I’m just glad it was a warm day. If it was a day like today, I would have frozen solid before I could climb out of the water.” Anna shivered and Kristoff moved his arm to go around her shoulders.

“Are you warm enough? What do you need?”

“I’ll be fine. The first chill of autumn always feels worse than actual winter, don’t you think?” She reached her hand up to grasp his hand that was on her shoulder, wanting him to know that his touch was welcome, and turned her head to look at him. His face was a little red still, no doubt she’d embarrassed him with her talk of stripping in the fjord. “Do you ever swim here? On purpose I mean?”

“Sometimes. In summer. The lake where we harvest the ice is too cold but there are other, smaller ponds.” He smiled, and Anna saw him duck his head and look at her under his lashes, so long that she had the urge to reach out and run her fingers over them to see if they felt as silky as she guessed. “But we also have hot springs. Have you ever been in one?”

Anna frowned. “No, but I remember stories my mother would tell about them. Will you tell me about yours?”

Kristoff grinned. “Let me show you.”

***

Kristoff promised he would take her to the hot springs soon, but between training the apprentice ice harvesters and meeting with the elders - most of them as young as him because of the outbreak - it was another week before he was able to do so. Anna had just finished treating a minor burn on a young woman named Seara when she heard a knock on the door.

“Kristoff! Come in!” Anna opened the door and Kristoff ducked to enter. The ceilings were tall but the doorframe wasn’t, and he had to contort himself a bit to fit inside. It gave Anna a slight thrill to see.

“Oh! Seara! Hello. I was just…”Kristoff’s voice trailed off and Seara smiled at him.

“Anna was helping me; I got a lick by the fire tonight making our meal.” She lifted her bandaged hand to show him. “I’m glad you brought her with you. What a treasure she is! ”

Anna and Kristoff both blushed at that, Anna busying herself with putting away her salves and cloths so that she didn’t have to meet Kristoff’s eyes. She knew he was becoming important to her, and wondered if she was becoming important to him. Maybe even treasured. For reasons other than treating injuries on his people and tending to the health of the reindeer.

Seara said her goodbyes and left, and Anna and Kristoff were left alone in the cabin.

Anna spoke as she closed cabinets and folded cloth. “I’m happy to see you. It must have been a busy week for you; I usually see you at the evening meal but I haven’t this week.”

“I’ve been with the ice harvesting crew; it’s not time to harvest and deliver now but I’m training the new ones in how to cut and load it up. When spring and summer come; they’ll know what to do.”

She had finished cleaning up and stood awkwardly, unsure if she should offer him some food. He had stayed by the door, hat and mittens on, his pack still strapped to his back. “I’m glad you haven’t given up on trading and harvesting.”

He smiled. “No, and I haven’t given up on taking you to the hot springs either. Can you go now? I know the way in the dark, and I have a torch ready.”

“Sure!” Anna reached for her heavy cloak and her own hat and mittens, the unfurling banner of excitement in her chest spurring her to be fast about those tasks.

As they left the cabin, Kristoff lit torches for both of them from the fire at the center of the row of kotas and cabins, and led her by the hand towards a path Anna had not yet explored. The path was long but well worn and easy even in the dark. After about a half hour of walking, Anna grimaced at a sudden strong, foul smell.

“What’s that?”

“That means we’re close.”

“My father told me about hot springs that smell, but I never imagined it would be so strong!” Anna laughed. “My eyes are watering!”

From the light of the torch Anna saw a pool of water shrouded in a layer of steam. Kristoff took her torch and his and stuck them in ground near the edge of the water.

“You’ll get used to the smell. If you got used to the smell of reindeer, you can get used to this.”

“I suppose that’s why you didn’t put the settlement right here though. It would take a lot of getting used to.” She pulled off a mitten and reached down to touch the water. “It feels wonderful! Are you ready to get in? Do we...just . . .take our clothes off?” She blushed to say it, and wondered how much the dark would hide them from each other.

Kristoff had already taken off his hat and mittens but paused, and though she couldn’t see the redness in his cheeks in the dark she suspected it was there from his stammered explanation. “Yes. Well, not if you don’t want to, though I suppose I should have told you to bring another set of clothes if you wanted to get in with your clothes on; it’s too cold to walk back wet. I did bring blankets to dry off with. But we can come another time, we don’t have to do it tonight.”

She looked at him and began taking off her boots. “No, I don't mind. It’s like the saunas in Arendelle, you have to get naked first.” Her fingers went to the clasp on her cloak, and she took that off as well, putting it on top of her discarded boots. “Which hmmm, is maybe why they’re so popular. I didn't like them though, I hated being shut up behind a closed door, even if it is wonderfully warm and steamy inside.”

Her hands went to the silver buttons on her belt and he turned around, speaking loudly over his shoulder. “I’ll, uh, I’ll get in first. And close my eyes. And then you can get in.”

She turned around as well, smiling, and started unbuttoning her cloak. For a man who invited her to an activity that required nakedness, he seemed remarkably nervous about it. She found it endearing. Perhaps he was as excited as she was to be having this adventure together.

She continued undressing and then worked to tie her hair up on top of her head. When she heard the splash of water that meant he had entered the pool, she took off the last of her warm layers and hurried into the water. She sighed upon sinking into the water.

“I don’t care what it smells like, this is amazing! I haven’t been this warm since July!”

Kristoff laughed to see her so happy. “Can you touch the bottom alright? It’s not too deep?”

“No, it’s perfect.” She looked at him in the dim light of the torches and the brilliant but distant light of the moon and saw his broad shoulders and grinning mouth. “I can’t believe I ever thought you were an irritable jerk.” She drew closer to him and placed her hands on his bare shoulders. “Thank you for showing me this, for taking me here.”

She was close enough to see him swallow and his chest rise and fall as he took some shallow breaths. She was very aware of how naked she was and how naked he was, and between the smell of sulphur and the heat of the water and the pressing darkness and the disorienting closeness of his breath and body she felt light-headed. It felt like a dream; this place felt even more enchanted than her enchanted forest. But instead of wind and water and fire and earth being alive, it was every part of her that seemed to be conscious. Every pore in her skin, the hairs on her arms that were wet and warm, the pads of her feet touching the soft bottom of the spring, it all felt like it was full to bursting. She looked into Kristoff's eyes to see if he felt it too, and she leaned in closer, her hand moving to his face to stroke his beard.

“Kristoff -”

An owl swooped out of the tree, its wings inches from their faces. She jumped back, splashing into the water, her hand going to her heart. He swatted at the air and said “It’s just an owl! Looking for his breakfast. It’s alright.”

He reached above the water and offered her his hand. She took it and whatever spell had fallen over her before seemed gone. Again she was Anna, he was Kristoff, and they were enjoying something new together. Companions and friends. And if she wanted something more from him, she wasn’t sure how to ask or tell him and he didn’t seem to be either.

So instead she told him more about the traditions she was learning as she acclimated to Black Mountain. “The way you set snares in the antlers to catch the wild reindeer! I hope Ryder’s learning how so we can do it back at home.”

And he told her how the apprentice ice harvesters were learning everything very quickly, even the work songs. “I didn’t think they’d want to sing - ever since the illness we haven’t had much music - but they asked and I taught them and I think it helped them work steadily. And maybe even enjoy it.”

When Anna drew a hand out of the water to show Kristoff how wrinkled it had become, he said that meant it was time to get out. “Too long a soak makes it dangerous instead of healthy. Time to get out when you start water aging.”

He got out first and wrapped himself in a towel, then stood at the edge of the pool with his back turned to offer her one. They dressed in silence and walked back with hands held, and Anna wondered if holding hands was all he ever wanted to do with her.

***

Kristoff came over the next day carrying a large bundle.

“What’s this?” Anna wiped her hands on her apron and took the offered pile of blankets and furs.

“When I was here last night I noticed you didn’t have much for warmth. It’s cold now but it will be even colder soon and I don’t want you to suffer the chill. Especially being so slight as you are.”

She hung the furs on the one chair and then spread the blankets on the bed. “They’re beautiful. Do you know who did this weaving?” Her hands traced the pattern of interlocking antlers on the border of the blanket. It had taken quite a lot of skill to do that.

“My mother made it. It’s our family symbol.” He hand froze and she looked up at him.

“Are you sure you want to part with it? I’m sure what she made must be very precious to you.”

“It is precious to me. But I want you to have it.” He broke their eye contact and looked down, shuffling his feet a bit and taking off his hat. “I think she would have liked you. She always said patience and kindness were the most important ways to lead. And I see that in you.”

Anna felt her cheeks grow warm at the praise and continued stroking the fabric. “I’ll remember those words and I’ll think of her and thank her when I use it. Thank you.” There was a long moment when she thought he might say more and when she thought she might hug him in thanks, but she felt frozen on the spot, humbled by the gift and his words.

He cleared his throat. “Do you need any help? I don’t go to the ice lake today so I will be nearby. Is there anything you need?”

Anna nodded “Yes! My mother gave me some seeds for an herb garden. I know it’s too cold to plant now, but could you help me stake it out? I wanted a place near the cabin, but I didn’t know what land to use or what’s already claimed or being used by someone else.”

Kristoff put his hat back on. “Easily done. Let’s do it now.”

***

After they walked around a plot of land by the cabin, Kristoff stripped a few low lying branches from a nearby tree and began to cut at them with his knife. He sharpened the ends into points and gave them to Anna who drove them into the ground. She paused in her work to wave to Seara, working nearby on gutting some fish.

He wondered if Anna would be here in the spring after the calving to plant, or if this was something she was readying for the next person to occupy the medical cabin. His heart felt tight at the thought of her gone.

He had been so relieved when she agreed to come to the Black Mountain and since then had only enjoyed her company more and more. He thought she liked being with him, but it also seemed that she liked being with everyone. She was kind and friendly and funny and it made it very hard to know if she liked him in particular. He didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable by having to ward off advances from him. He had offered her a job and he was in charge of her safety and comfort while she remained with the Black Mountain. He thought of his mother's words for the second time that day, that patience and kindness were how a good leader treated his people. He could be patient.

Anna accepted another wooden stake from him. “You’re almost as strong as an Earth Giant. ”

Kristoff smiled. “Almost?”

“Yes. And definitely easier to convince to help me. The Earth Giants require more compliments first.”

He laughed. “I think I should be offended that my help is only slightly better than that of a giant made of stone.

“No, be flattered. They’re basically sentient mountains. Very strong. And you’re definitely better company.” She smiled at him and his knife almost slipped in his hand. He took a breath and reminded himself. Patience. He wanted to see her smile every morning when he first awoke, but he could be patient.

***

Night fell early in the winter months, and sometimes Seara and the other young people would light a fire, brave the cold, and spend time together before sleeping. Anna and Ryder often joined in unless Anna’s medical expertise was needed elsewhere or Ryder was still chasing down an errant reindeer. Anna knew that even if she hadn’t seen Kristoff during the day, he was likely to meet her here at the fire, and he was likely to put his arm around her and tell her about something silly that Sven did or something entertaining about the formation of ice on the lake or something frustrating about meeting with the elders or something worrisome about disease or food stores or harsh weather. There was no end to what he carried for his people in concern and care and Anna tried to ease the burden by listening. She loved hearing him talk about his people and admired how much he cared about their well-being and how much thought he put into planning for their future.

Tonight, Anna watched as Kristoff walked up, sipping something that looked hot out of his guksi.

“Mmm, what’s that? It smells good.”

“Mulled wine. From your forest, actually. Or maybe Arendelle. Anyway, we brought it back after visiting the Northuldra.” He offered her the guksi and she accepted. She sipped and then sighed, wiping her mittened hand across her mouth and returning the mug to Kristoff.

“I think it must be from Arendelle. Very warming.”

As he put his arm around her, Anna couldn’t disguise a shiver of pleasure than went through her body. She stilled, but he noticed.

“Are you too cold?” His concern was evident in the downward tilt of his chin, his furrowed brow.

“Oh, I’m fine. The furs you gave me help a lot. And Ryder keeps the fire going at night and it’s nice having his body heat in the cabin; keeps things warmer.”

Kristoff pulled his arm off of her shoulders and straightened his hat clumsily.

“Has Ryder injured himself again?”

“Oh, he’s fine. I just like having him around. Things aren’t so lonely with him there.” Anna shivered again and rubbed her hands together, the wool of the mittens rough against her nose as she rubbed warmth into it. How could her hands and nose remain cold while her chest and middle felt flush with heat? It must be the wine.

“Have you been lonely here?” He fiddled with his hat and Anna wondered why he wouldn’t put his arm around her again. It seemed she was always wanting to touch him more than he wanted to touch her.

“A little. It’s like home but not. I miss my family and the spirits.” She grabbed his hand, wishing she could feel the warmth and calluses of his hands through their mittens, something that had become familiar on their walks and work together before the cold had settled on the land. “I’m not lonely when I’m with you. You’re a kind and calm leader and I like learning about the customs here.”

“I thought...well I didn’t think Ryder slept in your cabin. I didn’t know he did that.” He shuffled his feet a bit and Anna realized what he meant. Was this why he kept stopping short of kissing her? Of claiming her as his? They acted like friends but she had begun to long for more with each interaction.

“Oh! No! Ryder is just my friend. We just sleep. I have the bed, he has one of the cots.”

“You...just sleep in the same cabin. But not together? You’re not together?” Anna nodded, her heart racing, hopeful that Ryder would go along with this sudden plan of hers.

“Of course! Come sleep in my cabin tonight. Now. Just you and me. You’ll see. We will not be together like ‘that’ all night long.”

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

#kristanna #northuldra AU #frozen fan fic #anna #kristoff #ryder #Anna moves to the Black Mountain

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artdaily7 · 4 years

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The Acacia Trees by Derek Walcott

You used to be able to drive (though I don't) across the wide, pool-sheeted pasture below the house to the hot, empty beach and park in the starved shade of the acacias that print those tiny yellow flowers (blank, printless beaches are part of my trade); then there were men with tapes and theodolites who measured the wild, uneven ground. I watched the doomed acres where yet another luxury hotel will be built with ordinary people fenced out. The new makers of our history profit without guilt and are, in fact, prophets of a policy that will make the island a mall, and the breakers grin like waiters, like taxi drivers, these new plantations by the sea; a slavery without chains, with no blood spilt— just chain-link fences and signs, the new degradations. I felt such freedom writing under the acacias.

Bossman, if you look in those bush there, you'll find a whole set of passport, wallet, I.D., credit card, that is no use to them, is money on their mind and is not every time you'll find them afterwards. You jest leave your bag wif these things on the sand, and faster than wind they jump out of the bush while you there swimming and rubbing tanning lotion, and when you find out it is no good to send the Special Unit, they done reach Massade. But I not in that, not me, I does make a lickle change selling and blowing conch shells, is sad but is true. Dem faster than any vehicle, and I self never get in any commotion except with the waves, and soon all that will be lost. Is too much tourist and too lickle employment. How about a lickle life there? Thanks, but Boss, don't let what I say spoil your enjoyment.

III

You see those breakers coming around Pigeon Island bowing like nuns in a procession? One thing I know, when you're gone like my other friends, not to Thailand or Russia, but wherever it is loved friends go with their different beliefs, who were like a flock of seagulls leaving the mirror of the sand, or a bittern passing lonely Barrel of Beef, or the sails that an egret hoists leaving its rock; I go down to the same sea by another road with manchineel shadows and stunted sea grapes dwarfed by the wind. I carry something to read: the wind is bright and shadows race like grief, I open their books and see their distant shapes approaching and always arriving, their voices heard in the page of a cloud, like the soft surf in my head.

Joaquin Sorolla 1909 Walk on the Beach, oil on canvas, Sorolla Museum

#The Acacia Trees #Acacia #Derek Walcott #Walcott #Art #Poetry #Fine Arts #Poems #Painting #Joaquin Sorolla #Sorolla #Walk on the Beach #The new makers of our history profit without guilt

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gwilymz · 5 years

Text

Good Company- Part Five

Masterlist

Summary: You can try all you want, but secrets will always come out.

Word Count: 4,018

Warnings: angst, anger, sadness, SMUT at the end....

Breathe in for four seconds, hold it in for seven, and blow the toxic, bad air out for eight. That’s what Brian’s mother taught him to do when he was feeling anxious--wrong--as a young Brian called it. He had gotten home from school one day, cold mud soaked in his pleated trousers, his thoughts imbued in worries. To him, these worries were a string, thick and sturdy, that connected his thoughts, wove through every neural connection he had. The worry wasn’t a new feeling that mid-spring morning fifteen years prior, but it was a new, assimilated sensation of them. It was deep in his chest, light in his head. His mother saw him wobbling through the door, a strong gust of wind swaying a horde of dandelions back and forth in the front yard behind him.

“Brian? Sweetie, are you alright?” She dried her hands quickly with a thin muslin rag, tossing it on the kitchen table before strolling over to her son, worry weaved into her every microexpression.

“No.” Brian pouted, wiping his eyes on his wrinkled shirt, mud smearing against the once-crisp fabric. “These older boys pushed me into a puddle.” Tears pooled in his eyes, and his mother held him to her chest, the semi-dried evidence of his distress seeping into her own clothing. Soon, Brian was hyperventilating, his chest heaving, pouty lips dried. He had nervously chewed the inside of his mouth, and the metallic taste of blood stained his tongue.

“Now, Brian, try not to let this panic take over.” She almost scolded him, kissing the top of his head, covered in a thick mop of soft brown waves. “You can try to control it. Always remember: four, seven, eight.” She led him over to the small plaid couch sat by an open window. The curtains were blowing, open like parachutes. Brian sat next to his mother, hunched, terrified.

“Breathe in for four seconds,” She raised her eyebrows, taking a deep breath that seemed to keep going. Brian did the same. Strained from a lack of oxygen, she continued. “Hold the breath for seven seconds.” They did, her looking at him with determination, him at her with fear. “And then blow all of the bad air out for eight seconds.”

Brian felt lightheaded, but instantly better as he exhaled the bad air, the sounds of his heavy breathing drowned by the hushed sound of the brisk spring wind wafting through their small house--fresh, good air for Brian to breathe in.

Brian breathed those same breaths before he went on stage for their first few shows, closing his eyes, smeared with an icy blue eyeshadow Freddie insisted on rubbing on. His fingers nervously tapped on his guitar, his feet--elevated by three inch heels--stomped nervously against the dirty wooden floors as he attempted to calm himself, to rid himself of the bad, old air.

And he did the same thing after he saw you and Roger kiss on that impossibly frigid winter morning by his car, his own smell still on your coat, a scatter of small hickies still purple, evidence of the night before. Evidence of your love, he thought.

He was laying in bed, a chair propped against the brass doorknob, keeping him trapped inside of his own personal sanctuary, unlit, clothes he couldn’t bother to pick up scattered about. He stared at the ceiling at glow-in-the-dark stars arranged in a swirl, a few stars awry and falling off. That was the only light; his windows were shut, lights off. He tried to make himself believe it was night so he would feel less guilty about sulking to himself again, but the bickering outside of his room, the incessant jiggling of his un-turnable doorknob, reminded him it was barely midday. He had been in his room since the kiss between you and Roger almost a full 24 hours ago. He knew he was being melodramatic--making it worse than it had to be. He could have spoken to Roger, to you. Told somebody. But he didn’t say a word as he ascended the stairs back up to his flat, pushing past Deaky and Freddie, determined to not give into their worried glances, their lamenting questions.

“Brian, darling?” Freddie wiped the crumbs from his toast on a crumpled napkin, strolling over to the taller man. “Did something happen?” Freddie’s looks were always formidably emotional, and Brian couldn’t look at him in the eye without being entranced by him and doing exactly what he said.

“I think I’m sick.” Brian yanked his arm away from Freddie’s grasp, his black painted nails softly scratching at the tanned skin of his lanky arms. He walked to his room, glad it was the farthest from the living area so he didn’t have to hear Freddie and Deaky gossiping about him; so he could be alone with his thoughts--no matter how destructive they were.

Your feet were undeniably heavy, heavier than they had ever felt before. You were climbing up the uneven steps to the boys’ flat. You had walked up these jagged, horrid steps so many times before you didn’t need to look down anymore; you knew just where to step so you wouldn’t trip. Your hands were numb, even though they rested in your pocket, even though they were sweating in your fleece-lined pockets. You tapped freshly fallen snow from the toes of your boots, watching the powder puff into the air, blow away into the wind which was biting at your ears.

The day before, you had yelled at Roger--screamed in his face--for everything he had done. After he pulled away from the searing kiss--one you hated to admit made your lips tingle with lust--you pushed him back, hot tears the only source of warmth on your frozen cheeks.

“Roger, what the fuck are you doing?” You shoved at his chest, and he grabbed onto the side mirror for leverage, the awful sound of his nails scratching at the rusted paint making you cringe.

“What the fuck are you doing? Pushing me away?” Roger spat back, stepping closer to you once again.

“That’s exactly what I’m doing, Roger! Do you think everything revolves around you? Do you think you can kiss me and I’ll forgive everything you did to me?” The tears were flowing freely, dripping down your chin, soaking into your jacket.

“Why else would you come here, Y/N? And you forgive me? You shagged Brian in my fucking bed!” He was inches away from your face, and the contrast between these same two positions just minutes apart was almost laughable.

You scoffed. “What? I walked in to--” You began to whisper, aware of the scene you were causing on a quite busy street, “I walked in to a girl going down on you in the fucking bathroom!” You scowled at him, putting your frigid hands on his chest to push him away. You noticed he wasn’t wearing a coat, just a thin, pinstriped button-up that looked suspiciously like one of Brian’s.

“So that makes it okay for you to fuck Brian in my bed?” He questioned, a facetious look of pity on his face.

“I never said what happened was okay. But I’m not apologizing to you when you still owe me one for the way you fucking betrayed me. We were over as soon as I opened that door. Don’t fucking pawn this on me because you’re too insecure to admit you’re wrong.” You were calm, cool, unemotionally collected as you poked at his chest, emphasizing your points. You were past the point of caring what he thought, of wanting to get back together with him. “You’re disgusting, Roger. You’re immature and insecure. You hide behind this cocky façade, but you’re scared. You aren’t getting me back.”

Roger furrowed his eyebrows. For over one year, you had been the only girl he kissed, the one person he trusted avidly, who he felt complete, comfortable with. You made him abandon his compulsivity; the lack of control he had when you weren’t with him scared him. He had ruined everything good in his life. His relationship with you had dilapidated, crumbled before his eyes, the second his own eyes rolled back, his hands tangled in the sweat-soaked hair of a girl he had used. And then the remains, the sharp, scarce bones of your love was smashed to mere smithereens as he watched your back arch at Brian’s touch, his mouth latched to your most sacred part; a place he hoped no other man would go.

Now, Roger’s voice was small, vulnerable. “Why are you here then?” He swallowed, looking up at your glassy eyes.

“I left my wallet in Brian’s car.” You didn’t hesitate. You weren’t even ashamed to admit to yourself that you wanted to hurt him, wanted him to be jealous, livid.

“And why would your wallet be there?” Roger was speaking at a mere whisper now, his visible breath less severe. Instead it was fanning out into your face, slow, almost apprehensive-looking.

“Because Brian fucked me last night.”

Roger’s lips quivered; his hands shook. He unlocked the door to Brian’s car after the third or fourth time; the key kept missing the lock, scratching at the rusted paint by the handle. He reached inside, grabbing your black leather wallet, pushing it into your hands. He tried not to notice the condom wrapper, torn open in the cupholder.

“Leave.” Roger didn’t look at you again. He turned around and walked inside.

Roger’s fists rapped at Brian’s bedroom door, his knuckles raw from beating on the wood for so long. “Brian, open the goddamn door!” he yelled, his voice cracked--partially from screaming, partially from the massive lump in his throat which just seemed to persist, no matter what.

Brian was silent, acting as if he were asleep, but Roger had known Brian too long to fall for his ploys. He could hear Brian’s soft sniffles, his comforter rustling against his body, bedsprings barely creaking.

“Fine.” Roger screamed through the door, and the sound seemed to echo in Brian’s ears, reverberating through the darkness--maybe it was louder because Brian couldn’t see a thing. “Just know that you messed up. Know you ruined our friendship, probably the band too. And you fucking ruined it with Y/N for sure. Maybe you fucked her last night, but I’m not letting you be with her.”

Brian sat up, peeling his blanked from his body, wrapping himself in it. He flipped the lights on and pushed the chair blocking his door across the floor, it skidding over the uneven cracks. Then, he opened the door. He and Roger were mirror images of each other: bloodshot eyes, angry, betrayed.

“She said she loves me.” Brian sucked his upper lip into his mouth, staring down at Roger, who was looking at logo on the middle of Brian’s sweatshirt instead, unable to meet his gaze.

“She has said that to me many times before.” Roger was relentless with his unsympathetic tone. He was relentless when he punched Brian in the nose, blood spurting from his nostrils. Brian’s hand cupped his throbbing nose, concern meshed into his puffy face, tired from his emotions.

Roger didn’t let Brian retaliate; not that he would. He grabbed his coat and Brian’s car keys that fell out of his clammy hands when he punched him. Then he left, slamming the door behind him as Brian pinched his nose, attempting to stop the blood from gushing. He thought he deserved it.

___

So you stood, on the boys’ doorstep, knocking on their door as quietly as possible, hoping they wouldn’t hear. The last thing you wanted was to face Roger, and you wanted to see Brian even less, knowing he would be hurt, inconsolable. As soon as the confession of your and Brian’s activities left your mouth, you regretted it. Of course he would confront Brian about it; Roger was never one to let emotion fester inside of him like Brian did. He always blew up, made a scene. Deaky opened the door, his mouth hung open as if he didn’t know what to say.

“Y/N,” He began, looking at your subpar outfit, your clothes baggy, unflattering.

“I know you don’t want me here, John.” You felt weird saying John, and it suddenly felt as if you were in an alternate universe, a victim of the butterfly effect, where everything was skewed so much it seemed like a horrid dream, like you were dazed.

“It’s not me--” Deaky began, before Brian walked into view behind John, his hair unbelievably messy yet matted, his nose bruised purple. His eyes were puffy and tired-looking, and his lips were chapped and formed in an even, unemotional line.

“What happened?” You looked past Deaky, and into Brian’s warm eyes.

“Roger punched him in the nose. Then he left in Brian’s car and hasn’t come back yet. We’re going to have to cancel our venue tonight.” Deaky’s tone was uncaring towards you, and it hurt you immensely to hear. John was always amiable with you, always showing compassion and care for you--sometimes even more than Roger did.

Brian faltered behind Deaky at the door. His pajama pants were baggy, the fleece hems at the bottom of them covering his bare feet. His hands were shoved in the pockets of a hoodie that was a bit too short on him; his bony wrists were exposed. “I need to talk to her anyway.”

Deaky gave up and stepped aside to let you in, walking to his bedroom, fed up with you and the unnecessary drama which was subsequently ruining his life too. You closed the door behind you softly, and Brian patted the seat next to him on the couch, his feet propped on the coffee table in front of him.

“Roger isn’t going to let us be together, Y/N.” He scratched his head, mumbling as he rubbed at a stain on the pocket of his grey hoodie.

“Why does he have a say in what we want, Brian?” You wanted to touch him so bad--to comfort him--but you figured it was a bad idea, so you held your hands between your thighs.

“He’s dramatic; he left with my car and hasn’t come back. He punched me in the nose. He’s threatening me, and he doesn’t care if the band is over.”

Hot tears burned in your eyes, and you felt a nervous flutter extend from your head to the pit of your stomach as your chest started to heave. You began to bawl, your face hidden in your trembling hands. You turned away from Brian, embarrassed that he was seeing you in this state--even though his face was imparted with evidence of him doing the same.

Brian’s arm tentatively reached his arm over your shoulder, pushing you into his chest as you tried to think positively, attempted to conjure anything in your life that was moving in your favor, but there was nothing, not even in the depths of your memory, that was able to stop your chest from feeling this deeply-rooted heaviness.

“My mum taught me to breathe in for four seconds, hold the breath for seven, and then exhale for eight seconds. Why don’t you try that?” You heard his words reverberate in his chest, and felt his heartbeat faintly against your cheek.

You nodded, hugging him closer to you as you did what he said, sniffling as you focused on your breaths. Four, seven, eight. You repeated this for a few minutes, feeling your heartbeat wind down, almost like a dying engine--sputtering to a near halt. You swore your heart skipped a beat when Brian tangled his fingers in yours, kissing the back of your hand.

You looked up at him. “Shouldn’t you hate me? I ruined everything.”

He shook his head, tucking your hair behind your ear. “I’m in love with you. You couldn’t make me hate you no matter how hard you tried.” He smiled sheepishly.

“Isn’t it a waste?” You asked, squeezing Brian’s much larger hand. “That we’re in love with each other and we can’t be together?”

“Yeah. I suppose it is.” He sighed, staring at a picture hung on the wall in front of him, about ten feet away. It was Brian and Roger, their arms around each other, goofy smiles embedded into their young faces, so big their eyes were almost closed. “He doesn’t need to know. We can wait to tell him until he moves on.” Brian quirked an eyebrow at you, knowing it was an awful, flawed idea--but he had already ruined his friendships, his band. He had one last thing to lose: you. And he wasn’t going to let you slip out from his grasp; not when he had you here with him, when he was so close to having who he always wanted.

You turned a silver ring on his finger, watching it spin, tracing the textured engravings on it--something random. He had gotten it at a flea market a few years back. “What else do we have to lose?” You kissed his own hand, the ridges of his knuckles brushing against your lips.

Brian looked around the apartment, standing up halfway, listening to the silenced flat, the ticking of a clock on the wall, the slosh of water coursing through the streets like blood in an artery as London traffic bustled outside of the window. “I think Deaky and Freddie left out of the back door. Probably to find Roger.”

You nodded, brushing thinner curls away from Brian’s sleepy eyes. “Do you mind if I take a shower here?”

Brian shook his head, walking to a closet, slightly ajar by the bathroom, to grab you a towel. He rummaged through the stacks of ragged, frayed towels and found a lilac colored one--the nicest one-- that Freddie always attempted to hide at the back of the closet. He set it on the toilet by the shower, pressing a kiss to your forehead. His hand held yours loosely, apprehensively. He went to leave, but you held onto his hand tighter, your thumb caressing at the inside of his wrist, tracing over his veins. “You aren’t going to join me?” You pulled him closer, rubbing your hand over his chest.

His breath faltered. “Are you sure?” He held your wrists, and you nodded. He shut the door, locking it, before opening a drawer under the sink to block the door more. He opened the thin, oddly patterned shower curtain, and turned the water on so it was hot, running his fingers under the stream to test the temperature. You were behind him, pulling his hoodie up, and he finished the job, pulling it over his head. You untied his pajama pants, and they pooled around his ankles. He unzipped your jacket, stripping it from your body, leaving you in baggy jeans and a small t-shirt. He was almost naked in front of you as he bent down on his knees, unzipping your jeans, pulling them down, kissing your exposed belly button. You took off your shirt, and Brian stood up to unhook your bra, and you shrugged your shoulders, covering your breasts with your arms, crossed over your chest. He gently pulled your arms off of your body, bending down to kiss at your chest, looking up at you for approval as he sucked a nipple into his mouth. You held his head, whimpering as his hand cupped your heat, before he yanked your panties down your legs, kissing down your chest. You stopped him as he reached your tummy, pulling his hair as a signal for him to get up.

“We’re going to waste the hot water.” You breathed, stroking his hair. He nodded, standing up. He pulled the lever on the rusted faucet, watching as the water began to stream through the shower head, steam clouding the hot bathroom. Brian’s body was covered in a sheen of sweat, and so was yours. You stepped into the shower first, tilting your head back as the scalding water soaked through your hair, pebbled down your neck, down your torso. Your eyes were closed, but you saw shadows beneath your eyelids as Brian stepped in. He pulled your body flush to his own, his hard cock rubbing against your stomach as he kissed at your neck, nibbling at a small patch of skin under your tensed jaw.

“Relax.” He cooed, brushing his fingers through your hair. His own hair was black, bouncing wet curls dripping with hot droplets of water. He pumped some body soap onto a bath sponge, squeezing it, watching the foam bubble and cascade over his arms, his veins pulsing. He tilted your chin and massaged the soap into your neck, tracing it down over your collarbones, kneading your breasts with his hands. He washed lower, over your stomach and down across your pelvis. He got down on his knees, looking up at you, water dripping from his bottom lip as he washed your inner thighs. You gripped his shoulder, your knees buckling as he buried his face in your pussy, kissing at your clit, sucking it in his wet mouth. His hands grabbed at your ass, squeezing it as you pulled on his hair. He groaned, his bruised nose nudging against your clit as his tongue entered your hole, teasing you. You sunk down to your own knees to meet his face, pulling him in for a kiss, water spraying down your bodies as his stubble scratched against your jaw. He grabbed the towel from the toilet, lifting you up to put it in the tub, not caring that it was getting soaked. He laid you down on it, his lips still attacking yours, his tongue rubbing against yours as you sighed. His cock was rubbing against your clit softly, and you gripped onto his hair as he kissed your neck. He was too tall, resting on his knees to fit in the cramped tub. He moaned into your ear as his wet dick continued to rub against your hole, the warmth of you making his eyes roll back.

“I want you so bad.” He kissed your shoulder.

“Then take me.” You pulled his head up, kissing his soaked lips as he thrusted into you, staring into your eyes. The water was only lukewarm now, barely warm droplets flooding the edges of the tub, sloshing like the rain outside when Brian pushed himself deep inside of you, your hands grasping at the hair at the nape of his neck. He rubbed slowly at your clit as he thrusted quickly, angling his hips upward to feel you deep from the inside.

You whimpered as he thrusted deep inside of you, pulling out just to shove himself back inside, pornographic grunts falling from his perpetually open mouth. Your back arched as his thumb rubbed quick circles on your clit, as a stream of cold water stimulated it simultaneously. His eyes fluttered, and his thrusts became uneven, the bottles of various shampoos and soaps crashing to the soaked floor.

“Cum inside of me.” You moaned, furrowing your eyebrows. He nodded, unable to form words as he gripped at the side of the tub for support, trembling as he came, hot spurts of his seed inside of you juxtaposing with the now freezing cold water that fell around you. You whined as you came too, Brian still softly thrusting, rapidly rubbing your clit.

“Brian!” You yelled as you climaxed, your legs trembling, numb from being in the same cramped position for so long. Brian pulled out, hissing at the overstimulation. He rung out the towel after you stood up, holding onto the side of the shower wall to keep yourself upright. Brian giggled as he went outside of the bathroom, quickly grabbing two dry towels, his naked body dripping onto the wooden floors. Deaky and Freddie were still gone. Brian wrapped you in a towel after he wrapped his own around his waist, kissing the top of your head.

“Our little secret?” He held out his pinky, pruned from the water. You linked your pinky with his much longer one.

“Our secret.”

Taglist: @silencedleviathan @alexfayer @ledger-kaos @ma-ntequilla @discodeakky @richiethotzierz @thisloveisreal1 @heartsarecompatible @thelondondreamer5 @brian-may-brian-may @okqueenie @gailymlee @trickster-may @bubblypenguin123 @queensdarlingg @soloosunflower @dvndermifflinassociate @fredthelegend @miez-lakatz @arrowswithwifi @mouse507 @mespetitestortues @yourstateofdreaming @pamoreno @helenathe3rd @allie-of-asgard @deacytits @basically-a-queen-fanblog-now @xilann

#brian may #brian may fanfic #brian may smut #brian may x reader #gwilym lee #john deacon #joe mazzello #ben hardy #roger taylor #freddie mercury #rami malek #borhap #bohemian rhapsody #queen #fanfiction #smut #angst

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somelonelywordmonger · 5 years

Text

I changed the topic in a stupid argument my parents, sister, and I were having. I changed the topic to something I've never told anyone else and I regret it. All I wanted was to stop arguing.

I began telling them about this "dream" I use to have as a kid. I wanted to be a genius. I wanted to have a PhD in everything. Every medical field, all the sciences, a historian of all kinds, English and Literature, even math which I dislike. I wanted to also have passed the bar exam and be a legal lawyer. I wanted to have joined the army and have that to my name.

~dad interrupts, in annoyed voice: Well what's stopping you? Then I cut in: JUST LISTEN.~

I wanted to be tall and beautiful. To be strong and able to do all types of hand to hand combat. My hair was perfect and my glasses were cool, my face was a whole different shape, the pretty shape that Emma Watson or Kristen Stewart have. My skin was even-toned and had no scars or imperfections. I had slender, long fingers and straight, white teeth. Everyone loved me, I had all of these friends. I had excelled through my school years. I had been the captain of every female varsity team, I was amazing at ballet and every other dance class that local dance schools teach. I knew and could speak every language. I had this laugh that just lit up the room, heck, I lit up the room. I was the perfect Christian, I went to every church service, was in the choir, was in the church groups, went to the Wednesday evening service, read the Bible and could cite every part of it. I knew how to play every instrument but preferred percussion. I won Oscar's and Golden Globes. My novel series was finished and published. It was made into a movie series and everyone loved it and me. I was on talk shows. I had all of these pets and this beautiful home. A massive library, indoor pool/hot tub, a bar, grand piano. I was a master at every video game. And then I was an even better mother. A single mom with two boys. I raised them in my image and they were perfect like me and achieved all that they wanted. I gave them the discipline I never had, but secretly craved and they turned out better for it. I had perfect boys raised on God's image and we were happy.

But now I realize how impossible it is.

~Mom says: yeah that is impossible...there are no perfect Christians.~

~I respond, hurt: That's what you got from that?!~

~Dad cuts in: Okay ENOUGH stop talking!~

~Sister follows up: OKAY, IDA, SHUT THE FUCK UP!~

~Then my mind wavers to the handle on the car door attached to the moving car, and it takes all of my effort not to open it and throw myself out of the car.~

~Angered from the response I got, the fact that they triggered the thoughts of dying again, I respond: NO YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP! I WAS TRYING TO TELL YOU ABOUT MY DREAM AS A KID. WHAT I WANTED TO BE. MOST KIDS SAY THEY WANT TO BE A PRINCESS, BUT I WANTED TO BE SMART AND HAPPY AND EVERYTHING. BUT YOU HAD TO BE DICKS!~

I thought mom would be all like "wow, Ida, that is such a cool dream. I totally get where you are coming from. And it is possible to achieve some of that, honey. You can pick what you want from that and achieve it." But instead she only agrees with me and focuses on the part that either shocked her or hit home for her as she was a pastor and I started off going to church every Sunday.

I expected my dad to not have much to say in his own way but to think and wonder about his daughter's high expectations dream.

My sister is the only one who didn't shock me. The whole day she has treated me rudely. And has been mad at me for reasons I know not. I figured she'd either say nothing or shout something with the word "fuck" in it. Nowadays she tends to be a very angry person around me.

I'm a 20 year old woman weighing in at 282lbs and coming up to 5 feet tall. My hands are the smallest in the family and pudgy. My face is round and fat. My skin is scarred all over, uneven in areas, once a beautiful tan on my otherwise white self. I loved God, still do. He was my only friend for the longest time. I was never able to connect with my peers. Still have trouble connecting with people. But I met a wonderful person at a local dance company and we did hip hop together and became BFFs. Still going strong today. I have depression and anxiety. Moments at least once a day that one therapist said are dissociative and the rest of my therapists from then on don't seem to talk about. I'm smart and have cool glasses, but my novel is unfinished and the rest of the series only lies in my brain and heart. I don't take care of myself well, I hardly function. I'm decent at video games and that's basically all this community college dropout does. I've been volunteering at a local cat shelter since August 2018 and have made some efforts to get better. But the weight of my mental illness is so strong that I fall back down. I'm doing this alone. I'm fighting my anxiety, paranoia, weird dissociative "daydreams", depression, and crippling self-doubt alone. All I have is the medicine. My therapist that I loved and trusted seemed to only want to focus on my college goals and let me down in November 2018. Since then I haven't gone back to see her, my trust broken. Not a day goes by where death isn't on my brain. I look for jobs and then think "oh I can't do that!" And so I put myself down. I'm aware of my shit, but I am so stuck that I can't seem to progress anywhere.

I'm sharing this to vent. I'm sharing this to raise awareness about how you respond to people, matters. I'm sharing this to be heard, to know that I am not the only one. You can share this too. In fact, my younger self and even my sad current self would love the fame. Thank you, and God Bless you all. 💜

#mental health #depression #anxiety #vent #self doubt #childhood dreams #drama #family dispute #awareness #suicide tw

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lumosinlove · 6 years

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So u said your requests were open...... I kinda have an angsty Wolfstar ask..... Like, what would happen if Sirius somehow got bitten by some other werewolf (Greyback or some rando person) (let's say that for this full moon he can't be with Remus and the others cuz Order mission or something). How does Re react? What happens to the person that did it? (If you don't feel like writing this that's perfectly fine just ignore the ask)

ahhhh….angst, my old friend.

Sirius gets bit by a werewolf

Despite the disorientation that came with the morning after full moons, Remus always knew where he was and why he was there. The lycanthrope left a bitter taste in his mouth, a sour feeling in his veins. The sun filtering through the window felt unnatural against his skin, like either it was burning too hot or he was.

Remus cleared his throat, trying to rid himself of the taste and clenched and unclenched his hands a few times, feeling the humanness of the way his muscles worked. He could feel the heat of a fresh gash across his lower jaw and sighed inwardly, clenching his teeth against the slight throb.

There were a few more moments of quiet in his mind, of sinking into the slowly familiarizing warmth of the sun, before his eyes opened, blinded by the light, and blinked. He looked around the room he was in. James and Lily’s guest room, which had more or less become his and Sirius’. Sirius’ clothes were falling out of the top drawers, while his were neatly folded within the bottom. His books lined the shelves, and Sirius’ old broomstick leaned against the wall in the corner, looking sad from lack of use against the blue paint. It was empty, but there was a chair next to his bed as if someone had been sitting there, and a glass of water charmed to keep cold. He sat up, forearms shaking for a second with the effort, and reached for the water. He cursed when his fingers nearly couldn’t hold tight enough and reached with the other hand to cup the bottom and bring it to his mouth for a few quick gulps.

Finally succeeding in pushing himself out of bed, he pulled on one of Sirius’ jumpers hanging out of his drawer, the thick sweatshirt material feeling cool and weighted against his skin. He gathered the ends of the sleeves into his palms, over his cold fingers, and pushed through the door into the hallway that overlooked the staircase. The house was quiet, a sort of calm that accompanied the morning, but he could hear the quick murmuring voices from the floor below. Remus trotted quietly down the carpeted stairs, balancing himself on the banister. He wandered into the kitchen first, seeking out the always heated kettle James had gotten Lily for her birthday. When he opened up one of the squeaking cupboard he heard the talking momentarily cease, listening to his presence, and then start up again, quieter this time. He frowned briefly over his shoulder, unease blooming in his chest, and went about the calming process of making tea. He took his time letting it steep as he fetched the milk and sugar, giving himself an extra spoonful in honor of a rather rough moon. He stirred, the spoon clinking against the ceramic mug, before depositing it in the sink and walking into the living room to join the others with his fingers wrapped around the warmth.

“Morning.” He stopped in the doorway, brows drawing together slightly, “What’s going on?”

The unease in his chest spread at the way they were all huddled around the couch, blocking it nearly entirely from his view. Lily turned around first, face pale and shadowed. It looked like she hadn’t slept. She had turned, but she hadn’t resigned her position in blocking the sofa. James too, now, was looking over his shoulder at him, glasses removed, hazel eyes looking dark and worried.

“What’s going on?” Remus said again, “Wh…”

His eyes flickered over them, counting. One, two, three, four, five, six. Red hair, brown hair, blonde hair.

The unease turned into cold dread, icing over whatever discomfort he’d been feeling. Remus’ fingers tightened around his mug. He wasn’t there. Sirius wasn’t there.

His eyes flickered to where they couldn’t see, to the hidden view of the couch. Around Marlene’s shoulder, he spotted it. A bit of black, curling hair sprawled across one of the cushions. He looked from it to their faces, their drawn, horrified faces.

The tea slipped from his fingers, and he stepped right through the steaming shards. He pushed through James’ hand on his shoulder, through Lily’s pleas, and dropped to his knees beside the couch, beside Sirius’ stretched out, limp body.

He heard himself make a sound in the back of his throat, a soft groan, as he took Sirius’ face in his hands. It was warm, almost alarmingly so. The veins in his temples stood out, and a sheen of sweat covered his neck and pooled in the dip between his collarbones. His usually tanned skin looked grayish except for a vivid flush spread in the hollows of his cheeks. His hair was curled from the heat of his own body, sticking to his forehead and temples.

“Remus—“

“What happened?” Remus pressed his fingers to Sirius’ cheeks, to his neck, his shoulders, feeling the heat of his body through his thin t-shirt, feeling for injuries. His own voice sounded strange in his ears, pitched low with panic, “What happened, what’s wrong with him?”

What was he doing?

James was beside him suddenly, hand firm on his shoulder, “Moony. Moony, I need you to look at me.”

“Tell me.” Remus’ hands were at Sirius’ ribs now, pushing his t-shirt up, “Why—“

Remus shut his mouth abruptly. His vision seemed to sharpen, painfully so, the drift out of focus only to sharpen again. He thought maybe he’d stopped breathing. He gripped Sirius’ t-shirt with one hand, the couch with the other, staring down at the bandaged wound that occupied the right side of Sirius’ upper chest, the shape of it outlined in the blood bleeding through the cotton. Remus clenched his jaw against the wave of nausea that threatened, the burning in his throat, at the familiarity of that shape.

He closed his eyes, then opened them again, and it was still there, the crescent moon bite bleeding out of Sirius’ body, the blood nearly black with the poison it carried.

“Please—“ Remus’ voice came out no stronger than a whisper, shaking under the threat of tears, “Please, that’s not… That’s not…”

He heard James let out a breath from beside him, laced with tears, and felt his head drop to his shoulder.

Remus bowed his head too, breath coming in short, unbearable pants.

“Remus.” James’ voice in his ear, soft, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

But Remus shook his head, feeling his face start to break at the words. The next breath he took came out a sob, then another, until they were ripping at his chest. He leaned forward, taking Sirius sleeping face in his hands again. He put his palm to his neck, feeling the heated, uneven pulse there, while the other twisted into his hair. He pressed his lips to Sirius’ temple, nose in his hair, and his tears fell there too. Remus held him like that, his tears fallen silent except for the hitches in his breath, as if it would protect him, as if it would stop what was to come.

“I’m sorry.” Remus’ voice cracked, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” He whispered the words into Sirius’ skin, “I’m sorry.”

It was Lily this time who spoke, breaking the silence with a gasp, “No, Remus. No, no—“ She dropped to her knees on Remus’ other side, glancing a panicked look at James, “No, Re, it wasn’t you. You didn’t bite him.” Her hand pressed to the back of his neck, “It wasn’t you, Remus.”

Remus froze, looking at her with hooded, terrified eyes, “I didn’t…”

James’ hand pressed to his back, thumb rubbing softly, “He wasn’t with us last night, mate. He had a mission, remember?”

Remus let out a breath, a small, sliver of relief cutting through the ice in his chest. He pressed another kiss to Sirius’ temple, holding his lips there for a moment, tasting the salt on his skin, “Who?” He whispered, looking back up at James, “Who?”

James just shook his head, eyes falling, “We don’t know. He showed up like this, passed out with the effort of apparating.”

Rage spiked through Remus’ blood as quickly and sharply as the relief had. James must have seen it light somewhere behind his eyes because he the hand on his back moved to grip his shoulder gently, “Remus. Not now. We will find them. You know we’ll find them. You know we will, just…you’re both weak right now. You need to take care.” James nodded towards Sirius, “Of each other.”

Remus nodded, clenching his teeth, jaw muscles jumping with the effort. He looked back to Sirius’ sleeping form. He looked restless, but not in pain. His brows were drawn together, lips parted slightly, “I’ll kill them.” Remus ran his thumb over the high of Sirius’ cheek softly. His voice shook, “I’ll kill them.”

The room was quiet, his words settling into the space.

“We—” James mumbled into the silence, “We could move him to the bed now that Re’s up.”

Remus nodded, reluctantly pulling his hands away from Sirius and allowing James to stoop over him, picking him up rather gingerly in his arms. When his head lulled back, Remus was there, tucking it gently against James’ shoulder.

“Thanks.” James offered him a tight smile, before turning for Remus to follow him up the stairs.

Remus waited for the others to leave the room, door closing with a soft snick before he let out the breath he was holding in shuttering, slow gasps. His entire body felt shaky as he laid down beside Sirius on the bed, cold fingers hooking around his arm, nose against his shoulder, not wanting to disturb or hurt him but needing the close contact. He smelled the same, Remus was glad about that. There was perhaps the slight tang of blood added into the mix, but that would fade as the wound healed. Remus lay there, barely breathing, watching as Sirius’ fever broke, sweat drying on his skin, and then sun set outside the window. He watched his eyes move beneath the thin lids, watched his chest rise and fall.

He’s alive, Remus tried to tell himself, He’s alive, that’s all that matters.

“Hm.” The sound Sirius’ made was soft and deep, sleep filled.

Remus’ eyes flashed back to Sirius’ face where he realized they had closed. Sirius’ eyes were still closed too, but he let out an uneven breath, the ease of sleep seeping from his body. Remus watched him swallow over his dry throat, and felt cold seeping into his veins. Would he have to tell him, or would he already know?

“Re.”

Sirius’ voice cracked around the nickname, but he raised his hand slowly, folding it across his body, his fingers finding Remus’ where they were curled around his arm.

Remus turned his hand upwards into Sirius’ palm, “‘m here.”

Sirius hummed again, eyes still closed, “Okay.” He swallowed again, brows furrowing with the effort, “‘m gonna open my eyes in a second.” His voice was rough, “Do you know what’s gonna happen when I do?”

Remus’ heart pounded against his ribs. He felt tears throb behind his eyes and he brushed his lips against the cotton covering Sirius’ shoulder and shook his head, voice a whisper, “No.” He had no idea.

Sirius turned towards him blindly, lips parted. Remus brushed their noses together and the corner of Sirius’ mouth turned up just a little. His fingers tightened around Remus’, “When I open my eyes, you’re going to stop worrying. You’re going to stop being sad.”

Remus blinked. So he knew, he remembered.

“That means you have a few more seconds,” The almost smile again, “get it out of your system, love.”

Remus exhaled a shaky breath, but stayed quiet. He counted, one, two, three, four, five, six…

And then Sirius opened his eyes. With the light yellow ring around the outer iris that the wolf brought, his eyes looked like lightning against a gray sky. Remus pulled his lip between his teeth, thumb reaching out to stroke just under his eye, the soft skin there.

“God.” Remus’ voices was rough too, “I hate that and love it at the same time.”

Sirius smiled, for real this time, and it felt so out of place from the rest of Remus’ day that it caught in his chest and lodged there uncomfortably until the warmth of it started melting all the ice away, “Well. I always liked it on you.”

Remus let out a soft laugh, a little watery, a little sad, but he was smiling all the same. “Pads—“ He moved his fingers up to Sirius’ hair, “Why weren’t you being careful, why didn’t—“

“Hey, my eyes are open.” Sirius shifted on to his side, wincing a little, to wrap an arm around Remus’ waist, pulling him against his chest. Their foreheads pressed together and Remus closed his eyes when Sirius did, “No more worrying. Everything’s fine, isn’t it?”

“I—“

“Really think about it, love. Everything’s okay, right? I’m here. You’re here.”

Remus tightened his fingers in Sirius’ dark strands, loving him immensely, “Yes.” He whispered, “Yes.”

Sirius leaned forward, chin tilting to press their lips together gently. Remus pressed harder into it, his body curving forward, “Don’t scare me like that, though.” Their lips brushed, “Promise.”

“Promise.” Sirius whispered back, before kissing him again in the moonlit room.

#wolfstar #sirius x remus #remus x sirius #wolfstar angst #sirius black #remus lupin #harry potter #harry potter fic #wolfstar fic #the marauders era #the marauders era headcanons #the marauders era fic #wolfstar fluff #harry potter headcanons #writing #james potter #lily evans #the order of the pheonix

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newgeht · 6 years

Text

Binding Ink

Summary: Everyone had a name forever embellished on their wrist. This was the name of their mortal enemy… Or at least it was supposed to be. MinLu (Minerva x Lucy) AU

Wordcount: 4,650

AO3 FFnet Wattpad

She awoke, the sun blinding her doe brown eyes upon opening them. She cringed from its brightness, slinging her burnt, pink forearm over her eyes. How long had she been out for? “Natsu!!! Why didn’t you tell me to move into the shade!!!” The blonde whined, blistering pain shooting through her whole body.

Maybe she should have thought about bringing sunscreen on the school’s trip to the beach. Then again, she wouldn’t have put it on because she wanted a nice tan. It also didn’t help her situation due to the fact that her whole back side was seared from the great big ball of fire that hung in the sky. Her tan would be so uneven.

Natsu ran over at her call, innocent hazel eyes peering into her. “Gray calls me a sun bum, but look at you.” He burst into a fit of laughter, slapping his knee as he looked over Lucy.

“You were supposed to keep that from happening,” she exclaimed, throwing some sand at the pink haired teen. “Look at me, my back is as pink as your hair!”

He chuckled, “I didn’t want to wake ya up, Luce. Last time I did something like that, ya gave me a black eye. Don’t cha remember that?”

She pouted, pulling her sunglasses down over her eyes.

“You could have at least dragged me under the shade. I thought best friends were supposed to keep one another from getting hurt.” Yes, best friends. Not lovers as everyone constantly thought they were. Can’t a girl just have a male in her life without believing they were involved somehow? The same thing happened with her close friend Gray, but their relationship was a little complicated…

A hand came down on her ass, the blonde yelping.

“Damn, Luce. The sun got you pretty good.” She recognized that dark and cool voice anywhere, Gray Fullbuster. “You ever heard of something called sunscreen?”

“Ow! You…” She didn’t want to curse him out in public. “I swear Gray, if you do that again, I’m going to make sure you regret it!” She huffed, looking at the both of them. “If you two are going to stand there and ogle me, can you get me some aloe vera or something?”

Natsu ran off, not wanting to endure the wrath of Lucy. Gray sat next to her, crossing his legs and patting her head. The touch wasn’t foreign, but now she felt uneasy whenever they touched. Like it was taboo somehow.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure your tan will even itself out soon enough.” He began to dig a small pit in front of him, sand flying everywhere. His musings with the sand caused the blonde to do the same, her hands roving through the warm grains.

“No shit. I’m not that butthurt about it, plus,” she threw some sand his way, “I thought you would have been more likely to come save me.” She regretted saying it as soon as it came out of her mouth. She swore she would never try to bring up their previous relationship, she’d never meant to hurt him. They were only messing around, wasn’t that what high school was for?

She cringed as memories started to resurface, and she looked over at Gray. His face was as stoic as ever, his jawline just as tense as their current atmosphere. What else could she do to ruin this day?

“Could’a, should’a, would’a, but I was occupied with socializing with the other high schools that are present. You should be too, but you decided to take a nap instead.” The coolness of his voice turned sharp, patronizing her.

A sigh spilled from her lips and she decided not to say anything in return. It was hard to know that he was still into her, and she was sad that she couldn’t return his affections. Gray was really a nice guy, it just sucked that she was gay. Like, super-duper unbelievably gay, loving other girls as much as she loved her spirits. She wished that she hadn’t had to fuck around with Gray to find that out.

As soon as she had officially come out, everything between them had become different, but she couldn’t quite place her finger on it. He had never fully recovered, and now they were stuck in a stale silence. A frown formed on her lips, digging her feelings into the white sand.

A thump resounded through the air, sand splashing onto her back and into her hair.

“There ya go, Luce.” Natsu plopped down beside her, just as Gray had done not long ago. “Some sunscreen and aloe vera for your back.” The fire mage squeezed the sunscreen onto her back, a small groan of relief coming out of her. It didn’t matter that there was sand everywhere; him tending to her red back was enough to make her happy at the moment.

“Thanks, Natsu. Make sure you rub it in well, along with the aloe vera.” She was glad Natsu didn’t notice anything was amiss - she didn’t want to explain her and Gray to him again. Dense as he was, her best friend was the first to notice the awkward tension between them. She mainly blamed it on that keen nose of his.

As he smeared the cold substance in her back, she lifted her wrist up to her face. The black printed letters still baffled her everytime she looked at them. The lettering was only seen by her and the person whose name she was looking at. Minerva, the name contained power and it made her anxious for the day she was to meet whoever it was; a female, she assumed.

The ink held a purple tint - as if that would give any indication to who it would be. Calligraphy letters fitting on her wrist so perfectly, it was amazing that such a magic existed.

From how she understood it, long ago the first great sorcerer enchanted his pupils with the same magic that tattooed her wrist. He ordered this group to fight against the one who had been imprinted upon them - this allowed only for the greatest wizard to live. This tradition continued from generation to generation, only the strongest in the pair surviving to create the greatest wizard offspring. This enchantment applied only to mages - not that it surprised her.

Nowadays, their teachers said that this enchantment was to keep the magic population from growing too much. It made sense considering the possibilities of what the world would be like if there were too many mages. The school faculty along with many other scholars theorized that the world would be in chaos without this magic.

If the ratio of mages were to be close to that of the normal population, things would go haywire. It was hard enough for the Magic Council to control the current mage population, just imagining the doubling or tripling of said population would give her a headache. No one would be able to control a tidal wave of magic users, she shuddered at the thought. Envisioning the world in utter discord wouldn’t do good for her “good day at the beach.”

Now that she realized it, the hands on her back were much too gentle to be her best friend’s. Natsu’s hands were calloused and hard, but these were tender. Whoever’s hands were roaming around her back definitely were not Natsu’s.

Not noticing the switch in the person made her smile to herself. She had gotten lost in her own thoughts, yet again.

The fingers were working absolute wonders but their positioning wasn’t the best. Thighs clamped around her own, pelvis sitting right on top of hers. Soft and delicate fingers ground into the muscles of her back, being soothed and relieved from all the tension.

Lucy’s hair swayed over her shoulder, the blonde catching the bobbed, pure white hair before her brown eyes met another pair of the same ones. It was none other than her good friend - and Natsu’s girlfriend - Yukino Aguria. She was an absolute angel to be doing her a favor like this.

“Yuki~,” the celestial mage cooed, “how come you didn’t tell me you were here? I thought Sabertooth wasn’t coming.”

She thought it odd for the other celestial mage to be here - Sabertooth never interacted with any of the other high schools. Ever. For them to be here was more perplexing than a surprise, where did the sudden change come from?

“We weren’t, but we decided a senior ditch day today would be best. Natsu told me all about this little beach trip you guys were taking,” the light blue-haired mage responded, her thumbs now pressing deep into Lucy’s shoulder blades. A groan came from the blonde as the girl continued to speak. “We would have been here earlier, but Natsu didn’t tell me until this morning.” She turned her head to the side, looking at the fire mage sweat drop.

“I totally forgot about it babe… until you said you didn’t want to go to school today.” He rubbed his head behind his head, an awkward laugh coming from his chapped lips.

Her best friend’s relationship was beyond her understanding, but at least he managed to be successful with someone. Unlike herself, whose romantic affairs always ended terribly. Gray was not the first to endure her crazy antics. She didn’t have a great long list, but it seemed as if nothing was going to ever work in her relationships with others. It always was one thing after another when she tried to be with someone, with recent events causing her to stay off the dating scene for the time being.

Being in a relationship right now would be almost impossible with rumours of her and Gray’s minglings getting around to the student population. Doomed is what she was. Absolutely doomed.

A cool finger tapped her shoulder, and Lucy found her eyes meeting Gray’s. “You want me to go grab you a drink, Lucy?”

Without thinking, she nodded. The ice-make mage left, leaving the three of them baking in the hot sand.

“Yuki, we should probably move somewhere with more shade,” the celestial maiden suggested, propping herself up on her elbows.

“Thank goodness you said something, I was about to suggest that myself.” The girl got up off of Lucy, helping the blonde up.

“Thanks for giving that massage too, it was super nice.” Lucy leaned over to scoop up her towel. “So who else came with you today? Anyone we would know?”

Yukino shook her head. “I think you would only recognize Sting and Rogue. But there’s more than those two.”

Lucy remembered the pair well. The said duo was caught multiple times sneaking together around campus after hours. It amazed her how they thought their relationship was a deep secret, but everyone knew about their little shenanigans behind closed doors. She was glad none of the underclassmen ever caught them. The Twin Slayers loved each other very much behind closed doors. Thinking about it made Lucy chuckle to herself.

Natsu punched his hand, a small flame forming over it, “Ya mean to tell me there was people to fight, and ya never told me?!” He began to spurt flames from his mouth as he berated his girlfriend with questions.

“N-Natsu, calm down. I told you I was bringing people with me, namely my group of friends.” She stayed a good distance as his body started to de-flame.

The pink haired boy punched his fist into the air as his resolve grew. “Let’s meet them then, I’m sure they’d be good to spar with.”

Both celestial users shook their heads at his silly idea, sighing in unison. His hot-headedness would never change, and Lucy hoped it wouldn’t. It was one of the things she loved about him - she hoped that his childish antics would never change either. She smiled as her friend led her to the spot where the Sabertooth group had set up.

The spot was mostly deserted aside from a very long-haired blond clothed in regular swim trunks, but with a very large red hat sitting on his head. He certainly had quite the style, as he sat in a blue fold up chair reading a hefty tome.

“Hey Rufus.” His hazel eyes only looked at her before returning to his book. Yukino wasn’t fazed by this, she just continued to speak, “This is Lucy, and as you know, my boyfriend Natsu.”

“I’ll commit that to memory,” he flipped the page, not looking at them.

Lucy’s first impression of him wasn’t the best, but Yukino seemed pretty pleased with the way he responded. Brown eyes darted around - there were supposed to be more Sabertooth students than her fellow celestial mage and Rufus.

Closer to the beach, a group of four was divided by a net. Sand was flying about as the duos were scrambling to hit the white ball back and forth over the net. They comprised of three males and a girl, and instantly she recognized Sting and Rogue. The blond and dark haired boy effortlessly worked together to pop the ball back to the other team. She knew them from the student mage exchange program the schools hosted. Which was how she also met Yukino, it was a blessing to have her over at Fairy Tail for that short period of time.

But wow…

Dark hair caught the sunlight as the only girl on the team slid across the sand for the ball. Brown eyes were trained on this mystery girl, looking anywhere her eyes could get ahold of. From this distance the girl was definitely a looker. Hair up in identical and perfect buns and nice curves out in display in a cute purple bikini. How had Yukino kept this friend of hers from Lucy?

She felt absolutely breathless as she observed the dark haired beauty. Hopefully she wouldn’t be different in person, that would be a real disappointment.

A small tinge of pain was felt on her forehead.

“Earthland to Luce.” Natsu grinned as he looked down at her, “You ok? You seemed to be dazed for a second, you sure you only got a sunburn while taking a nap?”

Flustered, Lucy waved her arms around. “No, no, I was just thinking about something is all.” Yeah, how to get that girl’s number. “Let’s go meet the rest of Yukino’s friends, I’m sure they would love to fight you too.”

Overly satisfied by her answer, Natsu grabbed Yukino’s hand, practically dragging her down the rest of the beach to the volleyball game. Sand kicked up behind her as she ran to catch up to the couple.

Minerva would have been a fool to not see the voluptuous blonde walk up to their area with Yukino. Sadly, she couldn’t look over her thoroughly as she was trying to win this game against her classmates. Orga wasn’t much help in their struggle because his hand eye coordination sucked. She was glad he never took up any sports that involved a ball, only wrestling. When it came to pinning an opponent to the floor he was a total beast, but when it came to struggling for the ball the slippery texture of the sand was not doing him any favors.

All she could do was hit the ball as hard as possible so that Sting and Rogue would be too scared to go for it. Thus far, her intimidation tactic wasn’t working, but she did manage to spike the ball a couple of times. Just like what she was about to do right now.

Lifting her arm up, she jumped and with as much force as she could manage and slammed her palm against the ball. The poor volleyball flew forward, its velocity splitting the Twin Dragons apart as it hit the sand between them.

It bounced away, steadily coming to roll; its little adventure ended up at the blonde’s pink toes. Minerva’s hazel eyes surveyed the blonde again -how did her best friend know this girl without telling her? But she had heard Yukino tell stories about her time with a celestial mage in her residence at Fairy Tail. Maybe this was that same exact girl.

Her best friend didn’t give much of a description when giving details about her temporary transfer to the fairy school. Since Yukino rolled up with her boyfriend and the girl in tow, she could assume that the blonde was a fairy as well. Minerva was going to have her fun with her before the day was up -she was almost sure of it.

“Hey, Min-Min,” Yukino chirped as she picked up the volleyball. She dropped the ball, perfectly kicking it back to the group of tigers.

She gave the platinum haired girl a small smile as she caught the ball, getting ready to serve it. “Who do you have with you, Yukino?” Swiftly she popped it back over, making sure to keep a close eye on the ball as it quickly came flying over the net.

From the corner of her eye, she could see Yukino opening her arms to gesture to the kids on either side of her. “As you know, my boyfriend Natsu and my good friend-”

“Aye! Why did you run off?” Another voice overpowered Yukino’s, deep and obnoxious--to her at least. Minerva turned her head to see who it was, a dark-haired boy.

Bad idea.

In her peripherals the ball came flying back and there was absolutely nothing she could do before it hit the side of her head. Her hearing went fuzzy, as she held her hand to her ear. Big ouch - the twins were out for blood with that punch and she definitely felt it. She held her head as everyone began to burst out into laughter, including the ones who had served it.

Just to set a good impression on the blonde, she wasn’t going to do anything to the boys - yet. She turned her head slowly, sending a malicious smile at them as she chuckled darkly to herself. Maybe if she had been more focused it would have never hit her in the first place, but she needed to know who interrupted Yukino.

Then she felt something cool up against the side of her head, small drops of condensation falling down her face.

“That wasn’t nice of them, was it,” a fruity voice camefrom next to her. When did she get here? “This should help you, I think. I hope that hit wasn’t too hard.”

Minerva laughed, turning to see hair as bright as the sun waving enchantingly over the girl’s shoulders. She managed to keep her jaw from dropping in awe of the blonde’s beauty, she was so much better up close. “It wasn’t, don’t worry about it too much.”

She took the soda can from the fairy’s hand, holding it to her head. “Thanks for the makeshift ice pack.” Sarcastically she said, “It should help the swelling go down a bit.”

A light laugh spilled from the blonde’s lips and it made Minerva smile, effortlessly. “It’s no problem, really. You mind if we join in?”

The territory mage shook her head. “Not at all, the more players the better. Right?”

“Of course, I’ll play on your team. You have a really nice spike.” Though she knew she was good at spiking, the blonde’s comment made Minerva’s heart flutter. She turned her head, the blonde calling the rest of her group over.

Natsu spoke up, “I’m going against those two.” He pointed at Sting and Rogue, standing aloof in all the current excitement. They stood on the other side of the net, making small comments to one another., that lay on the other side of the net. “All by myself!” The fairy hit him on the back of the neck, a smack resounding through the air.

“We’re all playing together, so be a good sport,” the blonde chided him as she set herself up next to him.

Orga took one for the team and switched to the other side so that Natsu and Yukino could play together. Funny, all the girls were on the same team. The dark haired boy who distracted her earlier was also on the other side; she could get revenge on all of them at the same time. A devious smirk wiped across her face as she got ready to serve the ball once again.

The opposing team seemed to notice her dark intent, readying up for the ball. Orga held up the back as he was the tallest, and so did the other fairy; the dragons were practically inseparable. Minerva held the ball out, her toes digging into the warm sand as she swung, sending the ball flying over the rope.

It was returned almost immediately, the blonde popping up to send it right back over. It was nice to know that she was somewhat athletic.

The ball was hit back and forth over the net, sometimes the players hitting it or going out of bounds. The group of teenagers werehaving a blast as it went sailing back and forth; some diving for the ball and others (Yukino mostly) shirking away when it came at them aggressively. This was the most fun she’d had in awhile, and she never wanted it to end. She didn’t know how fun a friendly competition could be, especially against the fairies.

Once every couple of matches, she would turn her head to look as the brown eyed fairy gracefully hit the ball. Or, with the most valiant effort, she would go flying for the volleyball even if it was going over the line. Though her back seemed to be sunburnt (Minerva wasn’t completely sure if it was that or a bad tan), she was still beautiful in the sun’s rays. She found it somewhat odd that there was black lettering on her left wrist, the same one that had her future guild mark upon it.

Now after their countless rounds the game was getting a bit more heated, quite literally. She didn’t know how her own best friend could stand Natsu bursting into flames whenever he wanted to. His spontaneous combustions were starting to make the ball super hot, making it harder to hit. It was almost like instant death if your hand stayed on it for too long. This began to make the matches shorter and shorter, which she didn’t approve of.

“Okay, okay,” the dark haired girl exclaimed, “Final match, I’m getting pretty tired.” It was a lie, but she didn’t want to touch the ball anymore. She was much more interested in the pretty blonde beside her. Winning this girl’s affections was more important than winning the game.

“Whoever wins this match wins the whole game!” Sting exclaimed as he twirled the ball on his finger, waiting to serve it. The tiger could agree to that, and she was surprised no one had used their magic the whole game (not including the buffoon, Natsu).

In frightening unison, the rest of them nodded. “We’re going to beat you guys down to the ground!” The unnamed blonde fairy proclaimed, standing proudly in her spot. Minerva looked through the roped squares, glaring at the dark haired fairy, whose gaze was always on the blonde. They didn’t appear to be together, but his longing for her left a sour feeling within her.

Sting chuckled when he served the ball, sending it straight toward the fire mage. Natsu let out his famous line, “I’m all fired up!” When he hit the white ball, it seamlessly transformed into a ball of fire. The other team scrambled out of the way as it went riding toward them.

They all screamed the pink haired boy’s name in lament. It was such an anti-climatic finish to the match, but they won. Now Minervacould rub it in the Twin’s face in retaliation for hitting her in the head with the ball.

She slapped the blonde’s hand as she came by, giving the rest of the group high-fives as well. The fairy’s sportsmanship was refreshing to her, and she congratulated the rest of the team for their efforts. Even Natsu, because of his “accidental” win.

In all the commotion, she looked upon the neverending body of water in front of them. The waves rolled onto the beach, coloring the sand a darker shade than it was previously. Colors burs across the sky as the sun finally came to rest for the day. It was really a sight to take in and it brought a small smile on her lips. She really did love the beach.

The tiger failed to notice the keen eyes upon her as her gaze drifted across the beach. The tiger’s smile looked absolutely perfect, she wished she could have managed to get it on camera. Lucy was enveloped by the perfection in the moment as she saw the unnamed girl lightly smile.

Turning away from her, Lucy cleared her throat, “We should go down into the water now guys. I’m sure we’ll cool down from that match faster that way.”

Gray immediately hopped on her suggestion. “That sounds perfect!” He inched closer to her, not noticing her dodging him when he tried to wrap his arm around her shoulder. Lucy turned to the dark haired tiger.

“Does that sound good to you?” This grabbed the other girl’s attention and she nodded.

“The beach sounds like a wonderful idea at this time,” she answered in a low tone that sent goosebumps all over the celestial mage. Without another word, the dark-haried girl left for the siren’s call of the waves.

“Wait for me,” Lucy said, chasing her sand prints down to the water. Everyone else followed after the pair, scattering into different groups to play in the rejuvenating sea water.

They hardly noticed the cold blue eyes staring Lucy down as she chased after the tiger. They were unforgiving and sent unwarranted chills down Lucy’s spine as he stood there, the turf hitting his calves.

Soon enough, the fairy stood beside the tiger as they made their way down the wake of the beach. Lucy pulled a strand of hair behind her ear, shyly looking at the dark haired looker next to her. She could feel the blush crawling across her face as she opened her mouth to speak, shutting it closed.

The girl beside her chuckled, kicking the water as it came up over their feet. Little holes formed in the sand as the little sand crabs dug their way back into their home as the wave was dragged back into the ocean. The dark-haired girl turned her head, her hazel eyes dawning on the celestial mage’s face and she blushed even harder.

“Your name?” They inquired simultaneously. Both looked away, their laughter filling the air.

Her counterpart cleared their throat, “Sorry I didn’t hear your name earlier, your friend cut Yukino out. Please tell me he’s not as annoying as Natsu.”

Lucy giggled as she shook her head, “No, Gray is perfectly fine. Like a more refined version of Natsu.”

“Is he your boyfriend? He couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off of you during the game,” she sounded almost jealous of him.

Now Lucy shook her head vigorously, “N-No.” Her blush deepened as she thought of what to say. “It’s complicated, but it’s over now.”

“Good,” the word slipped from the girl’s mouth so fast. Was that a good or bad thing? She smirked as she continued to speak, “I’m Minerva, by the way.” Her head blocked the blending pallets of the setting sun, her face darkening.

The blonde stopped in her steps, looking at the back of Minerva’s head. She continued to walk, her steps getting slower and slower like Earthland was stopping. The world around her seemed to fade, aghast as she pulled her wrist back up to her face. The black lettering almost haunting now as her eyes wavered over her wrist.

Minerva.

#minlu #minerva x lucy #lucy x minerva #ftlgbtales #fanfiction #mine #fairy tail fanfiction #yeet yaw #hope yall like it

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callyourselfdun · 7 years

Text

Breathe

“Breathe” you told yourself.

“Inhale, hold and exhale.”

“Just breathe.”

Pairings: Tyler Joseph x Reader Category: Sad? Warnings: Reader lets her frustration out by hitting Tyler lightly, he gives permission and it is stated that hitting your partner is not okay. Word Count: 2.1k

It had been hours, you were tossing and turning amongst the soft sheets of your bunk that had dreadfully began to constrict you, leaving you feeling suffocated and uncomfortable. There was a thin layer of sweat all over your skin causing the blanket to stick to you even more, so you kicked the thick material off your warm body for probably the third time tonight.

Your boyfriend Tyler had a show tonight and decided to go out for drinks with Josh and the rest of the crew afterwards, you went to the show but kindly declined on the drinks as you weren’t a night owl like everybody else on tour.

The boys put on an amazing show as per usual, creating a safe and happy environment for all of their dedicated fans; It was just as great as any other concert but with a little bit of individuality added in. Every single show was slightly different to make them unique and special to the audience. After the venue was all packed up Tyler, Josh and the crew decided on getting some celebratory drinks as the rest of the concerts were no longer in the United States. You decided that you were going to go with them to get pizza at the local restaurant but you would return to the tour bus when they went to the bar for drinks.

You all had an early flight to catch so you were trying to get some sleep, thankful that you didn’t have any alcohol in your system to make this sleeplessness any worse then what it already was. Tyler understood your choice of not going out for too long, knowing that you had to be up early in the morning and that you had an unnecessarily hard time getting to sleep at night.

“You shouldn’t have to try so hard! Why is this so hard for you to do? It’s a simple task!” you grumble to yourself angrily. You’d tried everything; you hadn’t had any caffeine, you weren’t napping during the day, you were exercising daily, you tried meditating, you’d been to therapy, you’d leave your phone on the kitchen table to prevent using it and most of all you tried your best to tune out the voices in your head.

But tonight, nothing seemed to be working.

Currently you were trying your breathing techniques that Tyler told you about after excessively searching the internet about your condition to try and help you after you told him, claiming that it was his job as a boyfriend even though you’ve been suffering with the condition for years now and had learnt to accept the difficulties.

“Breathe” you told yourself.

“Inhale, hold and exhale.”

“Just breathe.”

You feel hot tears beginning to pool in your eyes caused by the pure exhaustion and aggravation your body was experiencing. You sit up yet again, kicking your legs while scratching at your sensitive arms violently. You peer up at the clock and instantly feel the tears you were desperately trying so hard to hold back spill over your cheeks, it was officially 3:27am and you’d been trying to sleep since 10:19pm. You no longer felt in control of your emotions as everything that you felt was exaggerated, hurting more and more whilst salty tears continued to wet your cheeks. You close your eyes as you inhale the soft scents of lavender from your aromatherapy oils and decided that it’s now time to try taking your sleeping pills.

You always tried to get to sleep using natural remedies before using the chemical substance that you hated so much, you walk into the small kitchenette, hearing nothing but your thoughts and sock covered feet lightly hitting the floor in the currently silent tour bus before reaching into the cabinet. You don’t bother to cover your mouth as you yawn tiredly; there was nobody in the dark bus anyway. Before you knew it you were swallowing the small white pills down with water, shivering at the bitter taste. You’d never been good at taking medication yet that seemed to be the only thing you had ever done consistently throughout your life.

You make your way back over to your bunk, preparing yourself for another 20 or so minutes of frustration until your meds eventually kick in. You continue your breathing techniques, fighting with your thoughts before realizing that your brain was beginning to feel a bit fuzzy. You feel yourself smile in relief, excited that you’re finally going to experience sleep for the first time that night after over 5 hours. Your muscles begin to relax and sink into your mattress; you’re no longer sweating as you feel your thoughts calming down. As much as you despised this fuzzy feeling, your mind was the closest it had been to allowing you to sleep that night.

You feel yourself drifting off, you’re breathing evenly and your horrible thoughts are at bay, you exhale one final time before-

“Dude! That bartender was so sick! How did he not break a bottle whilst throwing them all around the place!” a recognisable voice laughs excitedly, followed by the bus door closing and footsteps.

Josh.

Your bottom lip wobbles and once again your eyes are filled with fresh tears. You’re angry as you hear Tyler laugh even louder, you were feeling an overwhelming amount of emotions and none seemed to be very positive but all seemed to be very intense. You needed to get a wall in-between yourself and them; the curtain of your bunk wasn’t proving to be enough to calm you down as Tyler shushes Josh politely.

You get out of your bunk, your short purple pyjama shorts barely visible underneath Tyler’s oversized shirt on you. You begin walking to the bathroom while shaking out your arms out to try and relax your muscles, reminding yourself that you can lock the door in there, all you needed to do was get there.

Breathe.

Inhale, hold and exhale.

Just breathe.

You were about to enter the bathroom when you heard a loud sob rip through the atmosphere, shocked when you had realised it came from your own body. Your eyes track behind you as your head turns to see Tyler carefully walking towards you muttering something you couldn’t quite understand in your current state. You were fuming, continuing to walk towards the bathroom concerned about what you would’ve done to your loving boyfriend if you didn’t get yourself away from him.

You slam the heavy door and quickly turn the lock before Tyler gets the opportunity to get himself in. Instantly you begin to let the loud heartbreaking sounds of your sobs rule over your small frame, shaking your bones from the pure force and aggression encased in them. You slide your breaking body down the door to sit on the cold tiles of the floor, pulling your knees to your chest and holding your spinning but chaotic head in your hands as you continue to drown in your familiarly frequent cries.

“Baby, I’m so sorry. I really thought you were asleep; let me in so I can help you. I love you so much; please please please let me help you.” Tyler pleads from the other side of the door. Your heart was split in two, you desperately wanted to cling to his figure and let him help you back to a peaceful sleep, but you were also extremely worried that you would hurt him with the shear aggression that was raging through the blood in your veins at this moment.

“I can’t” you choked. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I don’t care love, you can hit me as much as you want as long as I get to help you.” He explains softly. You bite the flesh on the back of your hand as you fight back another sob, using your other hand to dig little red moon shaped creasants into the smooth skin of your thighs with your fingernails. Your cheeks never seemed to dry, constantly being dampened with fresh tears. You couldn’t decide if what your boyfriend was saying was helping, but you definitely were not calming down.

“What’s going on?” You hear Josh ask Tyler quietly on the other side of the door. Another chocked sob rips through your body at that as you begin to feel guilty. Josh didn’t mean to wake you, Joshua was one of the nicest people you had ever met and he never deserved to be treated the way you were currently treating him. You could feel both his and your anxiety spike as you awaited Tyler’s response, you couldn’t imagine how awful you had probably made Josh feel and you wanted nothing more then to apologise, but for some reason your body just wouldn’t let you do it.

“I’ll fill you in later, try and get some rest yeah?” Tyler proposes, desperately trying to get the attention off of you. You hear Josh agree with a small ‘Good night’ before tuning back into your own body. Deep and uneven gasps were escaping your lips as you continued to fight the urge of sobbing.

The digging at your thighs had now progressed into scratching, leaving bright red lines all down your tan complexion. You bite into your lip hard enough causing it to split and bleed as your weak chest continues heaving, burning as your lungs try to receive a more steady flow of air.

“Can I come in? You can hit me all you want, you can scream and cry but you’re not calming down by yourself and I want nothing more then to help you. Please Y/N, I need to help you.” Tyler’s voice cracking as he begs, it felt like you’d been locked in the bathroom for hours now, your aggression refusing to calm but your lungs still gasping for breath as your panicked state denied mercy on your wrecked body. You decide to talk to him, standing slowly whilst feeling your knees wobble from being in the same position for so long.

When you open the door you’re met with Tyler’s shocked expression and bloodshot eyes, he sniffles quietly and it’s then that you realise he’s been crying too.

You instantly close your fists and begin pounding his upper body with all the force you had left in you, continuing to thrash and yell at your boyfriend relentlessly, trying to get all of your pent up anger out but for some reason he just stands there and takes it all, doing nothing but whispering quiet ‘ssh’s’ and ‘you’re okay’s’.

Eventually, he lightly grasps your soft fists effortlessly as exhaustion was preventing you from doing any major damage to him. He slowly pulls you into his chest wrapping his lean arms around your shaking frame. You accept the warmth and begin sobbing loudly once again, crying against his shirt while your lungs burn from your violent gasps for breath. “Shh, I got you baby girl. It’s okay, you’re okay, I’m okay and we’re okay.” He whispers, carding his thin fingers through your damp hair. You cling to the back of his shirt like it was the only thing keeping you alive, bundling the blue fabric in your fists and you dampen the material on his shoulder with your tears.

The both of you just stand there, you sobbing and Tyler swaying you side to side, continuing to whisper sweet nothings in your ear. You finally begin to calm down as Tyler massages your scalp; your head was pounding from the terrorising and powerful noises that had been leaving your sweet lips all night. You eventually collapse against his chest so he picks you up, carrying you to his bunk.

He wraps your trembling thighs around his waist while you hook your arms over his shoulder, lightly biting the collar of his shirt as he slides the two of you into the small but cosy space.

Once he pulls the blanket over you, the only thing you do if wrap yourself around him tighter, thankful for his presence but deeply regretful of what you had done to him earlier. You begin to cry again “I’m so sorry” you mumble as you pull on his hair and lay impossibly closer to him. “I hit you and I-I hurt you, I’m so sorry, please forgive me, I’m s-so sorry you can hit me back I shouldn’t have-“ you ramble worriedly. What you did was wrong and your boyfriend didn’t deserve that.

“I don’t care.” He states simply, pulling you in closer and laying his hand on your back rubbing small circles into your wet skin.

“Breathe.” He whispers.

“Inhale, hold and exhale.” He rocks you slightly.

“Just breathe.” He kisses your forehead. The difference those words meant to you when leaving his lips.

“Good night, sweet dreams and I love you.” is the last thing Tyler mumbles before you find yourself falling asleep, pressed against your lovers side.

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wunderlass · 7 years

Text

Smoke & Mirrors: Epilogue

His captors think him defeated, but even Odin doesn’t know the secrets Loki holds. Before long, he’ll be free, events set in motion by Frigga’s best intentions and Loki’s worst instincts. He’s seen his future, and nothing is going to stop him from stealing it. Loki/Darcy, M rated

You can also read on AO3 or FFNet.

A/N: There's a tense change here. That's because I wrote this at a time most things I was writing were in the present tense and it was hard to switch back, even though I was trying to get this written while the hot flash of inspiration struck. I hope you'll forgive me, as I think it works if you view this section as us catching up with Loki and Darcy in the present moment, with the rest of the story serving to tell you how they got here.

Laughter peels through the air, a sound as sweet as the honey which is stuck in strands of Darcy's hair. It glints as the breeze catches it, drawing Loki's attention. Though his attention is never far from her—it can usually only be diverted by the toddler who put the honey there.

Said toddler is being enticed towards his uncle with a piece of candy, tottering on uneven feet across the grass with outstretched, grabby hands. Thor encourages him on with a fond smile and nonsense words, which results in giggles even when the little boy stumbles and has to right himself.

Never mind that Loki's son has had plenty to eat already, the staff at the old palace on Vanaheim putting together a feast when they asked for a picnic. Even Thor hasn't been able to make much of a dent in it—instead, Frigga will ensure it is distributed later to the people who need it more.

The trees lining the meadow rustle in the breeze, the cornucopia of their colored blossoms shedding onto the grass. Spring on Vanaheim is a bright, warm affair, and so the family gathers from their respective realms to enjoy a few days at Frigga's childhood home. She has retreated here to live out her time as dowager, except for when one of her sons needs her council.

It is the ideal home for her, brimming with pleasant memories from her own childhood and from Loki's, and also has its own portal which allows swift journeys between realms. Its safety and neutrality also makes it the ideal place for her grandson to spend his own childhood, while Frigga gathers as many memories as she can with the family members she will outlive.

Frigga herself has not aged, not to Loki's eyes. Darcy likes to tease him about his nonexistent gray hairs, but he cannot deny the passage of time on his face—lines he had not expected to wear for centuries. Yet his mother weathers the passing years much as she always has done. She sits as regally as anyone can on a picnic blanket, her silk dress somehow unmarred by sticky hands even though she indulges in as many cuddles as she can entice from her grandson. She is calm, content, freed from the pressures of her own throne and devoted instead to doting on the little boy.

Thor is freed of those responsibilities himself, if only for a few days. He can ride, and spar with his brother, and make an idiot of himself to entertain his nephew as much as his heart desires. Loki is pleased he is playing to his strengths. And yet, there is a calmness to him here, a carefree attitude that Loki rarely sees in him anymore. Much as it pains him to admit, he misses it, and mourns what his brother has lost in gaining the throne. Thor has confided that the spring days they spend in Vanaheim—which come around quickly due to the short solar cycle of the realm—are the happiest of his current life.

Behind Thor, Jane pulls faces at the little boy, eliciting more giggles. Jane adores him: the closest she will get to children of her own. Her chosen legacy will be science, and her love for Thor, when she is dust and he lives on. It doesn't make her sad—not as sad as the thought of Thor raising and losing children with a human lifespan. Instead, he is under firm instruction to live and love again once she is gone, and raise his heirs then.

The little boy is aging slowly, though. It's a positive sign that he may outlive his grandmother, rather than the other way around. There may be a throne in his future, but Loki has other hopes for him, no matter how long he lives. He knows Darcy feels the same.

He cannot count Jane as a friend—she will likely never trust him—but he values her sharp mind and the loyalty she has shown Darcy through everything. He wishes his brother could have eternity with her, if only for the happiness it would bring to Thor, but these things are not meant to be.

They make the most of it, their little extended family. Hela is on lying in the grass, soaking in the sun, though she will never tan. She could lie on a blanket, but she refuses, enjoying all the sensations Vanaheim has to offer. Even the allergies. When the itching becomes too much, she will rise to play with her little brother.

Loki suspects sometimes that the Hela he sees one day is not the Hela he has seen on the previous, even if she still arrives in her teenage guise. One day, they have a girl with more naivety than the daughter of Death has any right to, and the next it is gone, all used up and replaced with a haunted edge. Perhaps she returns often to her mortal family whenever they become too much a part of the past, so she never really has to lose them. Today Hela is naive, experiencing this all for the first time.

She's a strange creature, his first born, yet there is more of him in her than he would care to admit. She is often withdrawn, living in a world of her own imagination, prone to sulking and plotting revenge over trivial slights. But for all that, she delights in the sun, and in the warmth their family provides. And the older she grows, the more her uncanny resemblance to him does as well. Even though he never expected to have the fortitude to deal with a teenager—let alone one who can be a different age from one day to the next—he understands her, and that makes it easier.

As for his son—well, whatever physical resemblance he may have to his father, his sweet nature all comes from his mother. He does not brood, or hold grudges—though time will tell on that score—and he laughs far more than he ever cries. He delights in everything: case in point, the explosion of glitter Loki summons to tempt the boy away from Thor.

His brother feigns a pout of dismay as Loki's son comes running, staring up at him like he's the most wondrous person in the universe.

Loki's heart turns over in his chest. It takes a beat for him to recognize that this is happiness, a moment of pure joy, and a very particular moment at that.

It passes, a fleeting thing which cannot be kept hold of, so strange to be inside it rather than witnessing it. But this slice of happiness, the simple joy of spending time together in the old palace gardens, spurred so much into existence.

Loki catches Darcy's eye: she too has realized what has just passed them by. She wears her own happiness like a shawl, always draped around her and only momentarily set aside when she must.

He brushes the hair away from their son's face and hands him one of the candies. He looks so much like her, and the way Loki feels about the pair of them is a devotion so fierce he couldn't have imagined it, those many years ago as he stared at this scene in the mirror. Darcy has taught him patience, and gentleness, and trust, and forced him to earn her trust until it is unbreakable. She also showed him how to accept, even love, Hela. She has molded him into a different being, a better man, and shown him that a mortal life span does not mean it will be any less fulfilling. He would be grateful to her for the son she graced him with, but even alone she took his existence from bearable to blissful.

All the prices he has paid to be with her are worth it, and he still finds himself scrambling to remain worthy of her love. He is not an easy person to be with—he knows this, even as he refuses to "get some therapy" as she so often suggests. The throne of Jotunheim wears on him, even as he searches for a wise heir amongst the other claimants to the crown. His dreams are often little better than night terrors, black ghouls come to steal any semblance of peace he might hope for. And this is not the future he believed he was striving for when he first saw this moment in his mother's mirror, but it is better. Infinitely better. He would not change any detail of it.

Hela has dabbled with her grandmother's talent for mirror magic, but Darcy refuses to look at the visions her step-daughter captures in glass. Too much of her life became caught up around one moment, and even if all of them were as happy as this one, it wouldn't do to spend her time waiting for them to arrive. Loki agrees. They have limited time before they must pass into Death's realm permanently. It is better to enjoy each and every moment of sunlight while they can, just as Hela does. Instead, Frigga has learned to capture these memories in her mirrors.

Hela gives an excited yell. A butterfly has landed on her outstretched hand. It is calmly basking on her cool skin while she stares with awe, and her brother toddles towards it with a giggle. Loki pauses his progress, unwilling to spoil the moment, and he does not complain, happy to wave and babble at his sister while she studies her tiny visitor.

"It's so fragile," she breathes. "Beautiful, but fragile."

"I once thought the same of your Mama," Loki says quietly, and Darcy tuts at his obvious flattery. "But I was wrong."

"Watch it, buddy," Darcy mutters.

"She's beautiful, yes," he hurriedly corrects. "But not fragile. She's the strongest person I've ever known. Strong enough to put up with me."

Darcy smiles at him, twining their fingers together.

"They don't live long at all, though," Hela says with a pout. "All that beauty, gone so quickly."

"Then make the most of it while you can," says Frigga, as the butterfly alights from Hela's finger and vanishes into the sky.

Here we are. 130,000 words and four years later - it's done. This is the longest piece of fiction I've written (thus far) so bear with me while I take that in.

Yeah, it took longer (FAR longer) than anticipated to write. It's flawed, in ways all serialised stories are bound to be, and in other ways too. But I am mostly happy with it and I hope you all are too - whether you joined me at the beginning of the journey or somewhere along the way. Thank you for cheering me along and I apologise for being so consistently pants at responding to your comments.

Thanks also go to all the people who beta'd along the way or who acted as sounding boards in other ways. The story wouldn't exist without your help!

Here's to the rest of the stories...

#Smoke & Mirrors #fic #tasertricks

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thekatthatbarks · 7 years

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Change

SNS SUMMER WEEK 2017

DAY 1 - Post 699: Canon Divergence

Also on ao3 and ffn

“I’m coming with you!” Naruto declared strongly and Sasuke felt a heavy hand fall to his shoulder. He didn’t turn around, though the words rang in his ears. Really, he should’ve expected this from Naruto by now, but it still surprised him.

Naruto jerked him around to face him when he remained still and Sasuke was met with determined eyes. He let out a deep breath and said resolutely, “If you’re not ready to go back yet…I’ll come with you…until you are.”

Sasuke stared at him with wide eyes in disbelief. Naruto had never lied to him, but he just couldn’t believe it. “You’re just going to come with me? Leave the village?”

Naruto sighed frustrated. “It’s not – we’re not leaving the village. We’re just…taking a break in a way? It’s the end of the war. I don’t think Tsunade would care if I left for a while. She did the same thing. I mean, you – we would come back, right, Sasuke?”

Sasuke looked away from him. He knew Naruto wouldn’t be happy if he was away from the village for a long time. But Sasuke couldn’t see himself going back any time soon. He still felt like the place was home, he could never shake that feeling. He’d gone mad with grief when he’d learned the truth about the massacre and blamed the village. But he’d come to terms with that it wasn’t the villages fault, it was certain peoples’ fault. Even so, if he were to go back now, it wouldn’t have been enough time to process everything. He’d feel suffocated there. Everyone hated him and those opinions weren’t going to calm down any time soon. He didn’t really care what everyone thought, but it didn’t make going back any easier.

“Two years,” he settled for and met Naruto’s eyes again. “I think…I need at least that much.”

Naruto had obviously not expected it would be that long as his eyes widened and he frowned, looking down at the ground between them. Sasuke hadn’t even got used to the idea that Naruto wanted to come with him, but he felt a sudden fear that he might back out. After a few minutes of silence, Naruto looked back up with steely eyes. “You promise?”

Sasuke let out a deep breath he didn’t know he’d been holding and tried to not let his relief show. He gave Naruto a nod. “I promise, Naruto, after two years, we’ll come back.”

Naruto’s shoulders slumped and he smiled widely. Sasuke tried to not think about the warmth that filled him when Naruto looked at him like that. He couldn’t help but ask, “Why would you even want to come with me?”

Naruto looked at him incredulously and laughed. “Do you still not get it? I chased after you for more than three years, you think I would just let you walk away from me again?”

Sasuke smiled and shook his head. “I guess not.”

Naruto grinned and closed the distance between them to throw his arms – well, arm – around him. His head fell to his shoulder and he admitted with a shaky voice, “I’m happy you’re back.”

Sasuke felt his chest tighten and he hugged him back, pulling him as close as he could. He didn’t reply, but he was sure Naruto knew how he felt by the way his fingers gripped his mesh shirt. It was the first instance, he wished he still had two arms.

***

Naruto was grumbling angrily under his breath and Sasuke couldn’t help but laugh as he watched him struggle with the chopsticks. Naruto glared at him in turn and complained, “Oh, shut up! You have your right arm!”

Sasuke didn’t say anything and just watched as Naruto tried to bring more noodles to his mouth, then them falling back into the broth before they could reach his lips. Naruto pouted at the bowl and then looked at Sasuke with this smile and Sasuke just knew what he was about to ask. “Naruto, if you don’t do it yourself, you’ll never get used to it.”

Naruto nudged him with his elbow. “Come on, Sasuke, I’m hungry. Just this one time.”

Sasuke rolled his eyes and sighed. He turned his body and picked some ramen up from Naruto’s bowl with his chop sticks. He debated teasing him with it, but decided against it seeing how hungry Naruto looked. Naruto practically moaned at the first bite and Sasuke almost dropped the chopsticks at the sound. Naruto grinned happily at him when he was done chewing. Sasuke didn’t argue like he was going to and simply helped Naruto finish his bowl. It was the least he could do, he was the reason he had even lost his arm.

After they left the restaurant and got back on the road, Naruto looked over at Sasuke with a soft smile as he folded his arm behind his head as they walked. “Reminds me of the bell test.”

Sasuke gave him a small smile and shrugged. “I guess some things never change.”

Naruto laughed and Sasuke felt a warmth rush over him from the sound. He faced forward again with a quiet sigh. They really don’t.

***

They travelled from village to village, towards anything that piqued their interest. Whether it be helping out a town from bandits or a fancy hot spring. They just went wherever they wanted, no rules and no map. It was nice. Sasuke knew his travels would be very different if Naruto hadn’t joined him. He imagined there would be a lot more self-loathing and less laughter. No matter where they went, he was never cold. Not with Naruto next to him emitting warmth like he was the sun itself.

It’d been months since they first started their journey and Sasuke was surprised by how much he was learning about Naruto. He’d always thought he was the person that understood him the most, but as they talked he realized how little he knew about his best friend. It made him sad at the same time it terrified him. If he had felt so strongly towards him knowing him as little as he had, then how bad was it going to get when he knew all there was to?

Naruto was still insecure about how people saw him. He’d told Sasuke that he knew everyone loved him now, but what about in a few years? He said no matter how irrational he knew it was, he was always going to be waiting for the other shoe to drop. Sasuke tried to reassure him, but Naruto said it wasn’t something he could be talked out of feeling. He would always have that anxiety.

He told him about Jiraiya. A sad story about finally having someone who was family, only for them to be taken away. Sasuke remembered a brief meeting with the sanin when he was younger, but he hadn’t thought much of him at the time. The stories he’d heard about the Toad Sage were something he was familiar with though, and he knew how powerful he’d been. He was grateful Naruto had someone that strong in his life to train him. They way Naruto talked about the man, he could see how he had influenced him.

Naruto learned more about Sasuke, too. He tried to be open with him, but found it difficult to be after so long of bottling everything up. He felt like he didn’t know how to, like he didn’t even know how to talk to a friend. But Naruto was patient with him and never pushed for attention like Sasuke thought he would have if they were younger.

Something they shared in common was nightmares. Sasuke’s made him wake up in panic attacks and it was hard for him to breathe. Sometimes Naruto didn’t even wake up from his, but Sasuke had woken up to hear him crying and seeing him twist in his bedsheets.

Tonight, Naruto cried Sasuke’s name in his sleep, waking Sasuke up. Sasuke looked over at him in the dark room, the only light coming through the small window from the moon. He felt his heart clench and tried not to think about what Naruto was dreaming about. It was obviously a nightmare and the possibilities were longer than Sasuke liked.

Sasuke sighed and his feet dropped to the cold floors of the inn they were in. They were in cold country and neither of them wanted to sleep outside if they didn’t have to. He silently walked over to Naruto’s bed and sat on the edge of it. He grabbed Naruto’s shoulder and gave him a gentle shake.

Naruto jerked awake immediately and stared up at Sasuke with wide eyes. His breathing was uneven and he looked almost confused, “Sasuke?”

“I’m right here, Naruto,” Sasuke told him, not knowing if it would be comforting or just add to whatever terror Naruto had experienced in his dream.

Tears streamed down Naruto’s face and Sasuke fought to not look away from him. Naruto let out a deep breath before sitting up and wrapping his arm around Sasuke, then buried his face in the crook of Sasuke’s neck. Sasuke held him and he could feel the way Naruto’s fingers gripped at his shirt. His neck felt warm and he knew Naruto was still crying.

It was heartbreaking to see the man who lit up every day with his smiles cry in the darkness of the night. Sasuke hugged him closer and Naruto’s breathing eventually evened out. When Naruto pulled away from him, he gave him a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes. Then, leaned back against his pillows staring at Sasuke like he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure if he should.

Sasuke acted on instinct and nodded at him, ordering quietly “Move over.”

Naruto’s eyebrows scrunched together but he did as Sasuke said. Sasuke slipped under the sheets beside him and Naruto looked at him hesitantly. Sasuke held out his arm to him and Naruto didn’t waste a second before moving to lay against him, his head resting on his chest and his arm tightening around Sasuke’s torso. Sasuke didn’t know how to show affection anymore, but when he wrapped his arm around him and let his fingers comb through Naruto’s hair, it felt right.

Naruto relaxed against him and let out a sigh. Before he fell asleep, Sasuke heard him softly mumble, “Don’t leave me again.”

Sasuke’s heart skipped a beat at the sentence and he held Naruto tighter. He fell asleep wondering when “Don’t leave” had changed to “Don’t leave me”. But maybe it had always been the later…

***

Sasuke hadn’t been paying attention. His attention had slowly been slipping a lot lately, something that was out of character for him. But he was distracted. The sun had tanned Naruto’s skin with a nice golden hue. His hair had grown over the past year and he’d resorted to letting Sasuke trim it for him with a kunai. His smiles had always been bright since he was a kid, but there was something about the ones he had now. Some were soft and gentle, making Sasuke feel like he’d shatter under his gaze. Others were filled with laughter and stretched across his face in a wide smile. Sasuke was sure those would be the death of him. They did funny things to his heart and made his skin feel warm just from looking at him.

Naruto had been smiling at him when the kunai flew through the air and cut across Sasuke’s arm. They’d taken the bandits out easily and quickly. They were more of a nuisance than a real threat. Sasuke’s arm was bleeding though and Naruto was staring at it with more concern than Sasuke thought the small cut deemed.

They moved into the forest to build a small campfire and rest for the night. The light from the fire danced across Naruto’s skin as he gently wrapped Sasuke’s small wound. When he was finished, he gave Sasuke a small smile. “You know, when we get back home, I bet Tsunade and Sakura could probably do something about our arms. Maybe a prosthetic or something.”

Sasuke nodded as Naruto moved to slump beside him against the fallen tree he was leaning against. Sasuke sighed as something he’d been reflecting on flashed through his mind again. “I’ve been cruel to Sakura.”

Naruto frowned and he replied looking at the fire, “Work it out with her when we go back.”

Sasuke didn’t say anything back, so something he regretted didn’t slip out of his mouth. He wondered if Naruto was still in love with Sakura. If his childhood crush had grown into something more while Sasuke was away. Sasuke threw the thoughts from his mind when a stabbing pain started to twist at his heart.

They were quiet for a while with just the sounds of the fire crackling and the small animals in the forest. Sasuke’s eyes wandered to Naruto who was watching the flames flicker with a contemplative expression. He seemed like he was mulling something over in his head and Sasuke waited for him to share whatever it was like he usually did. When the night grew darker and Naruto still hadn’t said anything, Sasuke felt an anxiety creeping up his neck.

He was about to ask him, when Naruto suddenly turned to him and spoke into the dead of the night, “Sasuke, I’m in love with you.”

The words had thrown him off so much that Sasuke could only stare back at him in shock. Naruto sighed in frustration and faced the fire again, his hand raking through his hair nervously. “I don’t care if you don’t – well, I do. But I – dammit.” Naruto closed his eyes and let out a deep breath before turning back to Sasuke with hard eyes. “My feelings aren’t ever going to change.”

Sasuke felt like his heart had stopped and not a single thought was passing through his head. He tore his eyes away from Naruto and as his eyes settled on a burning twig, memories flooded through him with a wave of emotions. Naruto’s smile appeared more than once. Touches, some innocent, some not. Desperation and anguish. Fear and relief. Warmth and happiness. Burns and scars that would never heal right. Contentment and blue eyes. It had all rushed through his mind in a matter of seconds.

When he looked back to Naruto, he had a faint blush on his cheeks and was staring at the fire resolutely. All of his thoughts disappeared and Sasuke was left with nothing but the small flicker of light in front of him that had nothing to do with the fire. Sasuke reached out for him, his hand holding his face and turning him back to him. He watched as Naruto’s eyes widened before he kissed him.

Naruto’s lips were chapped, but when they moved against his, Sasuke felt a spark of warmth growing in his stomach and wrapping around his heart. Naruto’s hand snaked to the back of Sasuke’s head and his fingers tugged at his hair there, making Sasuke gasp into his mouth. The way Naruto kissed him was filled with love that he didn’t think he deserved. There was a solid desire holding him there and when Naruto broke the kiss, he could still feel it vibrating in his chest.

Naruto kissed him again and Sasuke pulled him closer almost into his lap. They were both breathless when they parted and he opened his eyes to see Naruto staring at him with this soft affection in his eyes. “Sasuke –“

“I love you,” Sasuke interrupted him, admitting his feelings before he lost his nerve. He leaned his head against Naruto’s shoulder, his hand falling from Naruto’s hair to grip at his shirt. He let out a shaky breath and closed his eyes shut. “I’ve always loved you.”

Naruto laughed lightly and Sasuke knew him well enough to know he wasn’t mocking him. It was a happy sound and rang in Sasuke’s ears as Naruto leaned his head against his. He smiled against him, thinking about how well warm Naruto felt with him.

Some things change for the better.

#sns #2k+#kat writes #sns summer week 2017 #day 1 #sasunaru #narusasu

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renae-writes · 7 years

Text

Time Travel

Summary: Y/N somehow finds herself in Hamiltime and decides to break into the wrong house.

Pairing: eventual Philip x reader

Warnings: language, unedited

Word count: 1,733 words

A/N: I literally have been thinking about this for the past two weeks and have finally decided to write it. I wrote this in a little over two hours and it’s a little rough but at least it’s written. I will be doing more parts to this eventually. Also, I am actually doing research for this and the house I’m describing is the Hamilton’s actual house, called the Hamilton Grange.

“The worst part is that he apologized to his mother for forgetting what she taught him. She taught him how to count. He thought he miscounted his steps!”

“Mhmm,” your friend said, not looking away from her phone.

“Dude, I know you don’t like Hamilton, but can you at least pretend listen to me when I rant? I just have a lot of feelings and you’re my only friend.”

“Sorry,” [Y/F/N] muttered, putting her phone in her back pocket. “But that is sad. He blamed himself when I guess it wasn’t his fault.”

“It wasn’t! If George Eacker hadn’t fucking cheated, Philip might have lived. He might have gotten to grow up and do great things, and now we’ll never know!”

“Okay, you need to stop. I know you love this, but it happened over two hundred years ago and you need to let it go because I want to go to bed and you,” she took the glass of wine out of your hand, “need to stop drinking. You have class in the morning”

“Since when are you the mom friend?” you asked, slightly miffed that [Y/F/N] had cut you off.

“Since you can’t seem to realize that it’s two in the morning and you have an eight AM tomorrow that you can’t miss,” she replied.

You simply muttered a “fine” before slinking off to your bedroom. You didn’t bother with changing into your pajamas and just laid in bed in your clothes from that day, which consisted of an oversized flannel and capri leggings. You didn’t realize how truly tired you were until you remembered you still had to brush your teeth and wash your face but by the time you found enough motivation to get up, you were already falling asleep. Whatever, you thought, I’ll just do it tomorrow.

Something smelled weird. You wrinkled your nose in disgust, not yet awake enough to open your eyes. It smelled like shit. Like actual shit. You rolled over and tried to bring your sheets above your head to block out the smell, only to find that your sheets were gone and your comfortable bed was replaced with hard, uneven ground. Confused, you opened one eye, then another, to find yourself nowhere near your bed. In fact, you seemed to be in an alleyway of sorts. It was grimy and disgusting, but upon surveying your clothes, you seemed to be, for the most part, clean. Your flannel still had the stain of a bit of vodka you spilled on it last night while doing shots and it smelled a bit of sweat, but otherwise it wasn’t too bad. You were most upset about the fact that you were stuck outside barefoot.

Sitting up, you look around for the first time and realize that you had no idea where you were. It seemed to be a sort of residential neighborhood, but nothing looked familiar. There were no skyscrapers in the distance nor the honking of horns that you had become accustomed to living in New York. It was quiet. It’s quiet uptown… your brain supplied. Stop it, you scolded yourself. Not now.

With the Hamilton song still playing in your mind, you stood on wobbly feet, trying to ignore how hung over you were. You needed to focus. Coming to the end of the alley, you stayed as far out of sight as you could. Immediately, you realized something was very wrong. The street was full of people; men in long, ornate coats walked along with women in brightly colored silk gowns. The men’s hair was mostly in ponytails at the nape of their necks while the women’s hair was done up in intricate updos, braids and curls keeping their hair off of their necks.

Next, you noticed the houses. They stood side by side, most touching, but some of the grander ones having space on both sides. The houses also seemed to be brightly colored, a stark difference to the neutral colors of modern day. You stepped farther back into the alley. You recognized the fashion. You’d spent hours looking at it online. You were in Revolutionary America. Eighteenth century. You had gone back in time.

Stepping all the way back into the alley, you tried to control your breathing. Your ears were ringing and it felt like there was an elephant sitting on your lungs. Not now, you commanded yourself. Now is not the time for an anxiety attack. Your body refused to listen, however, and you sunk down on weak legs to sit against the house on the left side of the alley, the brick digging into your back, and brought your knees up as close as you could to your chest. You closed your eyes and brought your shaking hand up to press against your neck, finding your racing pulse and keeping it there while your other hand pressed against your chest, above your breasts. You took as deep of breaths as you could, imagining your hand could feel the air moving in and out of your lungs and focused on slowing your racing heart.

After what felt like hours, your heart was beating at a somewhat healthy pace and you stood, exhausted from the worst anxiety attack you’d had in years, wanting nothing more than to go to sleep, but that wasn’t happening anytime soon.

Turning, you inspect the house you had just been leaning up against. It was painted a cheerful yellow color with white trimming and a brick base. The house was large, probably big enough to be considered a mansion in that time, with side decks and more windows than you felt were necessary. All of the white shutters were open, meaning anyone inside would be able to see you, so you knew you had to be careful. You walked around to the back of the house, where you were met with a small staircase leading to the large, white back door. You tiptoed up the stairs, hoping they wouldn’t make any noise and took the round brass door handle in your hand. Please don’t be locked. Please don’t be locked. It opened easily, without so much as a creak.

The inside of the house was ornate and beautiful, but not in an in-your-face sort of way. The main rooms were large, yet comfortable, with a tasteful blend of floral prints and solid colors. Paintings littered the walls, but you recognized none of them. You wanted to take a closer look, but you knew you had no time. You froze when you heard voices coming from the next room, both of which were distinctly female. You looked to your right and saw a staircase. Weighing your chances, you took the risk and rushed as quietly as you could up the stairs. Trying to keep your breathing quiet, you looked at the floor, your mind rushing to think of something smart to do. You needed clothes, which you knew you would find a dress in the master bedroom. Now you just needed to find it. You picked a random door, not bothering to look around before running to it and no sooner had you placed your hand on the doorknob than you heard a distinctive click coming from behind you.

You froze. You’d never heard that sound in your life, but you could easily guess what it was.

The sound of a gun being cocked.

“Who are you, and what are you doing in my house?” the man behind you said in a low, intimidating voice.

You sighed, trying to come up with a good reason and not finding one without sounding crazy.

“I asked you a question.” The man repeated himself.

“I know,” you responded slowly, trying to sound as calm as you could. “I’m here because I need clothes.”

The man grabbed you with his left hand and spun you around, pressing your back against the wall. You gasped and tried to ignore the gun he had trained at your head as well as the stunning green of his eyes.

Fuck, this guy was hot. Dark lashes framed hazel-green eyes, and freckles were littered across his tan skin. His beautifully plump lips were pulled back in a grimace and his dark, incredibly curly hair was falling everywhere; into his face and back across his shoulders, which were heaving with every tempered breath he took.

You were frozen in place, unable to look away from those eyes. It’s like all rational thought had flown straight out of your head and you could no longer think of anything except him. He didn’t seem to be as effected by this as you were.

“So you decided to steal from the Hamiltons?” Your eyes widened, but you kept your mouth shut.

“Can we talk about this? Maybe with the gun put away, please?” you begged him. He heaved out a breath and lowered his gun, his left hand still on your shoulder, holding you to the wall.

“Fine. Come with me,” he said before turning and walking away, leaving you to follow him like a lost puppy. He led you to a room at the end of the hall and opened the door, ushering you inside.

The walls were painted a yellowish cream color and the canopied bed had rich navy blue sheets adorning it. There weren’t any paintings hanging on the walls, only a number of bookshelves filled with all sorts of volumes. Your fingers itched to run along the spines, to open the pages and see what they held but you held yourself back.

“Is this your bedroom?” you asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yes. I know it’s not proper for us to be alone together, much less in a bedroom, but given what you’re wearing, I’m assuming you’re not one for propriety, miss.”

“[Y/L/N],” you supplied, holding out your hand and ignoring the fact that he didn’t actually ask for your name. “[Y/N] [Y/L/N].” After a moment’s hesitation, he took your hand, his larger hand wrapping securely around yours.

“Philip Hamilton.”

#hamilton #hamiltrash #philip hamilton #hamilton x reader #philip hamilton x reader #philip hamilton x you #hamilton x you #hamiltime #reader insert #hamilton reader insert #time travel #renae writes #hamilton fanfic #philip x reader #philip x reader fanfic

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