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fandom-imagines-stories · 5 months

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Over Mountains Cold

Kili Durin x Reader

Words: 4931

Summary: On a quest for your family, you and your traveling companion get caught in a winter storm in the Grey Mountains. Your true feelings for your best friend come to light when you struggle to make it through the chilling night.

Notes: The heater in my room is broken and the image of cuddling with Kili to get warm is just really nice to me, okay? I will use Aidan Turner to dissociate before I contact ever maintenance. (also, why can’t I just write fluff? Why does there have to be the angsty backstory of losing siblings? The world may never know)

Warnings: Kind of a chaotic plot. An ungodly amount of sexual tension. I don’t make the rules.

Fili gave a final wave as he disappeared over the ridge, taking the ponies with him. His brother tried to calm the pit in his stomach. Not only was Fili off to retrieve more supplies alone, but the cold was setting in. If he didn’t make it to the next village by the time the snow started, he would get stuck out here.

Just like you were.

“We should go,” You sighed. “We’ll want to set up camp before it gets dark and I want to search the foothills to the east before the sun goes down.”

Kili looked up at the sky. “It’s going to be a cold night.” Already, his breath came out in puffs from his lips. “Maybe we should stay here until morning. It’s lower, so it’ll be warmer and the snow hasn’t reached us yet.”

You stiffened and turned determined eyes towards him. “I won’t waste any time. If there’s a chance of finding my sisters out here, I’m taking it.”

You waited for him to argue or tell you how foolish you were. Winter was on the horizon and these mountains would be impassable in the coming weeks. But your friend merely gave you a small smile and put a hand on your shoulder.

“Then lead the way.”

You wanted to kiss him. Well, you often wanted to kiss him, but in that moment, with his eyes full of trust and belief in you, no words could express your gratitude. But, coward that you were, you settled for a pat on the arm and an awkward nod.

“Right. Follow me.” You hurried away from him before you could do something stupid.

You’d known the dwarven princes for most of your life. Having grown up near the Blue Mountains, you spent a lot of time with Durin’s folk, listening to their stories, celebrating their festivals, and causing a little chaos with your two closest friends. You couldn’t count the times Kili and Fili had gotten you into some kind of trouble, but surely they would say the same thing about you.

The younger prince walked beside you, telling you legends of ridiculous creatures living in these hills, trying to make you smile. It worked, of course. Between his grin and a bit of theatricality, he never failed to lighten your moods.

Kili was your best friend. He was there for every prank, every adventure, and every heartbreak. When your village was attacked by raiders three years ago, he spent weeks tending to your injuries and trying to hunt down the people who’d hurt you.

That’s when they were taken. Your two older sisters, Maryina and Baeriel. Sometime during the battle, those foul men came to your home and stole them away. You were nearly killed trying to defend them. Everyone told you they were dead. Even your parents didn’t have the heart to keep looking after so long, but you wouldn’t give up. You knew they were alive. Kili was the only one who believed you.

“Do you remember what you told me?” You asked suddenly.

Kili turned his head, hazel-brown eyes bright in the afternoon sun. His brows furrowed with curiosity.

You elaborated. “When I said I was going to find them. I said I’d search the whole of Middle Earth if I had to. What did you say?”

Kili beamed. “I said ‘Well, you’re not doing it without me,’” he remembered. “‘You’d get lost.’”

“Exactly,” you laughed. “And, I do believe that you lead us down more a stray path than I, dear friend.”

“But we always found our way in the end, didn’t we?” Kili grinned.

“That we did.”

The two of you fell back into a comfortable silence with something heavier hanging between you.

Grass swayed with dying breaths, green turned to dry white. Ahead, towering peaks capped with snow loomed like a massive, foreboding gate. You watched them with growing unrest. Kili’s shoulder brushed against yours as you walked as if just to remind you he was there.

The afternoon stretched and yawned. The sun began to hover. With every passing hour, the more the light sank, so did your hopes. Your search in the foothills yielded nothing. Not even the remnants of a possible settlement.

“They aren’t here,” you said. You ran a hand down your tired face, eyes scanning the vast landscape, the mountains at your back. You turned to Kili. “What if…”

You’d come here on a rumor that the raiders who took your sisters had a base in the Grey Mountains. But that’s all you had to go off of- rumors.

“It’s the first day.” He gave you a reassuring smile. “We’ll keep looking.” Kili scanned the dense woods at the base of the mountains, hoping for some signal of smoke or any other sign of life. There was nothing. But he wasn’t going to give up hope and he certainly wasn’t going to let you. “Come, let’s set up somewhere to sleep. You must be exhausted.”

“I’m fine,” you grumbled. “But if you’re saying you need to rest, then I suppose we can pitch the tent.”

He rolled his eyes playfully.

“Last one to the trees gathers firewood,” he challenged. The mischievous dwarf took off before you had the chance to process what he said.

“Hey!” You called after him and ran as fast as your legs could carry.

Usually, the three of you always camped out under the stars, but knowing how cold it would be, you brought a tent to provide a little shelter. But laying there, so close to him, the fabric barrier between you and the night sky seemed suffocating.

It wasn’t the closest you’d ever been, of course. There had even been some nights where you found yourself asleep on his shoulder after a long day or he would doze off with his head in your lap. There was just something about this- something about the two of you enclosed together, alone- that felt different.

You laid completely still, screwing your eyes shut, but your mind refused to rest. The form beside you shifted back and forth, twisting and turning. Kili grunted in frustration and turned onto his back.

“Y/N?” He whispered. “Are you awake?”

“Unfortunately.”

He blew out a breath. “We should sleep. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow. We’ll have to find some food in case Fili gets holed up somewhere.”

You hummed and nodded.

Both of you stared up at the slanted ceiling of the tent, not moving and not speaking. The tension alone chilled you to the bone, making you shudder.

“Are you cold?” Kili asked.

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure, because I have an extra fur-”

“Kili, go to sleep.” You huffed, shifting to your side away from him so he couldn’t see the painful want in your eyes.

Kili was more than just your best friend to you. He was your first love, the only person you’d ever loved, really. You’d had suitors in the past ask for your hand, but you declined them all. Your heart was no longer yours to give away. But you could never bring yourself to tell him. He was a prince, after all, and what were you? A nobody.

You blinked away tears and curled up as close to the tent’s wall as possible.

So close together and yet you couldn't feel more distant.

The next day yielded even less results. The further you got into the mountains, the less hope you had that you were going in the right direction. The Eastern Pass took you higher in elevation and further away from Fili with the supplies.

“Wait.” Kili stopped suddenly, putting a hand out in front of you. “Listen.”

You halted, the frostbitten ground shifting beneath your boots. At first, the slight breeze was all you could detect, but as the forest stilled, the subtle yet clear sound of hooves carried on the wind.

And they were getting closer.

“Get down.” You grabbed the collar of his coat and pulled. The two of you tumbled into a bush, losing your balance in your haste. Kili hit the ground. You fell onto his chest, knocking the breath out of both of you.

Kili grimaced.

“Sorry,” you whispered. Your faces turned a similar shade of pink, both trying to hide it from the other.

The familiar thudding against the forest floor increased in speed and volume. From your position, you could just see through the foliage that kept you hidden. Kili craned his neck, blindly trying to get a glance.

“Can you see them?” He asked.

“Shh.”

You kept your head low as you stared out. Watching. Waiting. As the horses neared, you decided there couldn’t be more than three.

“We could take them,” you whispered, looking down. But the sight of Kili lying beneath you, hazel-brown eyes staring up into yours with his hair a mess below him was too much. It sent a burning, twisting feeling through your stomach. You looked back up at the road. “There aren’t many. We could fight and force them to tell us where they took my sisters.”

“Are you mad?” Kili hissed, shifting underneath you. His hips rocked up into yours by accident. He sucked in a breath. “It could be innocent travelers going through the mountains. Or worse, there could be a dozen fighters and we’d be dead in seconds.”

“Since when are you the cautious one?” You scoffed, ignoring his movements and prepping yourself to pounce.

Kili locked his arms around your middle and rolled. He had you on your back before you could stop him, pinning you to the forest floor with his hands on either side of your head.

“Since I’m trying to keep you from getting yourself killed,” he growled.

Relieved that your hips were no longer pressed against his, Kili had put himself in another predicament hovering over your body, his lips mere inches from yours.

It shamed him to think of how many times he’d imagined you like this.

He waited until the riders were past, counting three, just as you said, but they seemed only to be a father and his two children, both under the age of 16. Kili doubted that these were the raiders who had destroyed your home. One of them mentioned something about getting over the pass before the storm, which made him uneasy.

Despite the heat of your bodies, the air was indeed growing colder. Clouds were gathering and a crisp, cool scent hung in the air.

Kili stood and held out a hand to help you up.

You didn’t take it.

“We need to keep moving.”

He swallowed. “We should head back to lower grounds. If we get caught in the pass, who knows how we’ll get out.”

You didn’t look at him. Instead, you continued up the path. “I wasn’t asking.”

Kili walked behind you, neither saying a word. He saw the tension in your back shifting like you were already in battle. He only wished he could relieve at least some of the weight that bore down on your shoulders. Witnessing you in such pain hurt him more than he knew how to express. That, unfortunately, wasn’t the only thing he struggled to put into words.

It had taken Kili long enough to finally admit his feelings for you to himself, but it was taking even longer for him to admit them to you. Fear wasn’t something that usually stopped him- he’d faced trolls and orc packs a dozen times over- but the idea of jeopardizing his friendship with you frightened him to no end.

Still, lying there, pressed against you, had drummed all of those feelings up to the front of his mind. They distracted him from the real issue at hand and he tried to remind himself that you need him focused. You needed a warrior, not a love-sick errand boy.

“If we keep at this pace, we can make it through the pass by morning,” you said grimly.

Kili exhaled, his voice deep with concern. “Y/N, you need to rest.”

“I need to find my sisters.”

You kept walking.

Kili kept his arguments to himself. Starting a fight now would only make you angrier and he didn’t want to risk you going off alone.

He let out a low sigh. Being the responsible one was exhausting.

Kili watched the sun with a concerned eye and discomfort growing in his stomach. His breath appeared in a cloud from his lips. But worse, flecks of white sent panic up his spine. The snow speckled the branches of the pines around them and added to the already thick blanket of frost that coated the ground. The further up, the deeper the snow banks.

“These flurries won’t be flurries for long,” he warned.

“We’ll make it.”

You refused to turn back to look at him. If you did, you knew that one look at his face would make you forget your persistence. You would turn around and head back down the mountain and have to start all over again in the morning. So you kept your eyes ahead, despite the growing shiver down your spine.

Besides, it was only a little snow. You and the brothers had faced worse on numerous occasions.

Kili quickened his pace to take his place beside you again.

“This way,” he said. “I’ve heard a shortcut through this pass.”

You raised a brow. “You’ve heard of one?”

“We’re here based on a rumor, aren’t we?” He retorted.

You shrugged as if to say ‘fair enough.’

Kili took the lead as the air thickened with white flakes. The shortcut, while it existed as far as he knew, was not the true purpose of his change in direction. He’d read journals telling tales of adventures through these mountains and he remembered a checkpoint for many. A cave where they could take shelter from winter storms. He only hoped it was real.

You began to regret your stubbornness as the cold seeped through your coat, the snow falling thicker and thicker, decreasing your visibility until you could see but a mere few feet in front of you.

In a blink, the blizzard set in.

You trudged on. Eyes blinded by white, you walk straight into the mass in front of you. Your companion’s warmth drew you in and you couldn’t help but press yourself against his back. His arm wrapped around, searching for yours.

“Take my hand!” Kili called back to you.

You did so without hesitation, wincing at the chilled state of his skin.

“We’re nearly there!” He shouted over the wind.

“That’s impossible! We haven’t even made it through the pass!”

“You’ll see.”

Trust was the only thing you had left, your senses overtaken by the storm. And then suddenly, it stopped. Kili pulled you forward and the choking white curtained the opening of the cave behind you. Wind howled, but no longer deafened.

“You knew this was here?” You gasped through chattering teeth.

Kili gulped. “I hoped.”

“You hoped?”

“You kept going!” He held out his hands, fingers stretched and shaking with his words. “I didn’t know what else to do!”

“Nevermind. It doesn’t matter.” You ran a hand down your face, wincing at the freezing surface of your own skin, as well as the exhaustion overtaking your features. You paced back toward the blinding white outside. “We’ll stay here until the storm blows over and then we’ll keep going.”

Standing at the opening of the cave, the wind still chilled you to the bone. Still, you watched, as if your sisters would magically appear and welcome you into their warm arms.

As the image passed through your mind, you were gently pulled away from the wind by a hand as cold as yours, and yet it sparked the warmth that you needed. Kili placed a hand on your cheek, turning your face to his.

“You’re exhausted,” he said. “We cannot afford to be careless. Not out here. We’ll go out again in the morning. You need to rest.” Before you could argue, he added, “We both do.”

With the fog of determination outweighed by fatigue and frost, you sighed in defeat, hanging your head.

“Alright,” you conceded.

Kili put a finger under your chin and lifted your eyes. He gave you a small smile to which you couldn’t help but reciprocate.

“Come on. We should set up the tent. It might not be much, but it can’t hurt.”

Your chattering teeth gave no argument. There was no wood for a fire, the smoke would fill the small space anyway, so the thin cloth was your only added defense against the cold.

Once inside, you both felt the same pull towards each other, your bodies craving the heat of another. But you stayed on the far side, as far as you could get, mind clouded by icy, frozen fear. Kili didn’t say anything, trying to ignore the ache in his chest as he tried to sleep.

Your eyes couldn’t have been shut for more than a moment when you heard them.

“Y/N!”

“Y/N! Where are you?”

You blinked to clear the tiredness from your eyes and listened.

“It can’t be,” you whispered.

“Y/N! Y/N!”

Maryina and Baeriel.

You listened again.

“We’re here! Help us!”

Your sisters. They were out there. They were trapped in the storm. They needed you.

You sat up, tossing aside the coat you’d been using for a blanket and ignored the bitter air seeping through your tunic. You didn’t feel it. You didn’t see your companion sleeping across from you. You didn’t hear the wind as you stepped out of the tent. You only heard your sisters’ cries…

And stepped out into the blizzard.

Kili twisted and turned. As hard as he tried, sleep never stayed. He dozed off only to drift back, trying not to shiver.

“I can’t sleep again,” he sighed. Kili flipped onto his other side. Rubbing his tired eyes, he opened them. The bundle of furs beside him took an odd shape.

Empty.

“Y/N?”

He sat up and reached across the tent, feeling nothing but frigid air. Kili lifted his head, panic banishing any exhaustion left in his limbs.

The untied opening of the tent flapped in the wind.

“Y/N!” He called out.

The storm screamed in response.

He scrambled out of his bedroll and sprinted into the night. Fat, white flakes stuck to his face and eyelashes no matter how much he blinked them away.

“Y/N!” He shouted again.

Kili walked, trying to keep the cave in sight. The blizzard raged around him, concealing even the silhouette of the trees. He cried out your name again and again. With every passing second of silence, his chest grew tighter.

Why would you have gone off alone?

What if something had taken you?

There was no way for Fili to reach the cave until the storm settled, which meant he was completely and utterly alone.

“Y/N!”

It felt like hours before the wind let up and even then, snow continued to fall and the air turned even colder, creeping down Kili’s neck like a thousand icy-legged spiders.

There, in the distance, he could just make out a shape, wandering and covered in a thick, frozen blanket.

Kili ran as fast as his aching legs would allow, his boots sliding on the ice-coated ground. No matter how loud he shouted, it was as if you couldn’t hear him. You trudged on, the snow almost reaching your knees. You didn’t even have your coat. If he didn’t get you out of this cold, you would surely be lost to the white nothingness that surrounded you.

“Y/N, what are you-” Kili moved to grab your arm and found that your eyes were closed. Ice stuck to your face where tears had fallen and your blue lips muttered the same two things over and over again.

“Maryina…. Baeriel….”

Kili’s heart shattered like an icicle falling to the earth.

“Y/N, love, wake up,” he pleaded, gently taking hold of your shoulders. He had to stop himself from recoiling. Even through your tunic, you were like a statue, freezing to the touch. “We need to get back to the cave. I need to get you to a fire. I need to get you warm.”

Already, you looked like a walking corpse.

But your eyes were starting to open.

“K-Kili?” You muttered through chattering teeth. “What’s going on? I’m so…” You stepped forward, falling against him. “I’m so cold.”

Kili didn’t hesitate. He scooped you up into his arms, holding you tight against his chest. He followed his own footprints as they were slowly being covered again by the falling snow. By some miracle, he made it back to the cave. He hurried into the tent, wishing he had the material for a fire. For now, all he had was hope.

“I heard them,” you said, still dazed. “I heard their voices calling to me in the storm.”

“And you followed it?” He gasped, quickly undoing the fastens of his coat. “Are you mad? Even if they were out there, you’re no good to them frozen to death.”

Kili shrugged out of his coat and wrapped it around your shoulders.

“No, Kili.” You tried to push him away, but he was stronger, fueled by panic and determination. “Kili, you’ll freeze.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said harriedly. He tied the entrance of the tent to keep out the frigid wind and laid down, gently pulling you along with him. Kili rubbed his hands up and down your arms, careful to keep the heap of furs wrapped tightly around you. He held you against his chest, his tunic slightly undone so you could feel the heat of his skin against your cheek.

As his warmth broke through the icy surface that suffocated your entire body, your mind started to clear. It started to wake up.

And when it did all you could see was his wide, golden-brown eyes searching yours with a fire you’d seen a few times before. Once when you’d been separated from him and his brother for a week on a particularly stressful journey and the other when your village was attacked and your sisters were taken. Each time, he looked as though he was looking at the sun for the first time.

At the time, you didn’t understand, or perhaps you didn’t let yourself understand. You understood now what that fire meant.

He was, and would always be, your shelter.

Like magnets, you somehow were drawn together still, despite already being impossibly close. The air between you was hot with your breathing. Everything seemed to stand still, from the raging winds outside to the racing heart inside your chest.

Neither of you said a word, an entire conversation held simply in the lock of your gazes.

Kili’s hand cradled the back of your head, laying it against his chest. You felt the soft, sweet warmth of his lips on your forehead.

Despite the hauntings of your mind, your heart gave you leave to rest in the strength and comfort of Kili’s embrace, allowing both of you to slip back into the persistent reach of slumber.

The storm blocked the pass by morning and, without any equipment, there was no way to get over. It had all been for nothing.

Fili found you halfway back down the mountain, the pony’s back covered with more supplies.

“What happened to you two?” He asked.

“We couldn’t find them,” you snapped, hurrying ahead of both of them.

Fili turned to his brother.

Kili shook his head.

Your party of three traveled until you found the nearest tavern and the boys made you stop for the night, watching exhaustion seep into your every step.

Dinner was had in silence with an air hanging so thick that Fili felt he would choke on it. He could never imagine the two of you fighting- he knew that his brother would never forgive himself if he ever hurt you. But he also knew Kili’s true feelings towards his best friend and Fili couldn’t help but wonder if something had been revealed while he was gone.

“We’ll start up toward the northern villages in a few days,” Kili said. “It’ll give us some time to rest, regroup, and plan.”

You stared at your plate. “What’s the point?”

Both turned to you.

Kili’s eyes softened. “Y/N, you don’t mean that.”

“They’re gone, Kili.” You blinked back tears. “We could search until the end of time and we still wouldn’t find them.”

“Then to the end of time we will look because I am not giving up,” he insisted. His dark eyes took on that glimmer from last night, igniting something within you.

Your nightmare wasn’t the only thing that frightened you.

“I’m going to my room,” you said, pushing away from the table. Your form disappeared up the stairs with the gaze of both princes trailing after you.

Kili sighed, running his fingers through his long, dark hair.

“You just going to let her go?” Fili scoffed.

“What would you have me do?”

Fili shook his head and took a drink of his ale.

Kili narrowed his eyes. “What?”

His brother raised a brow. “Y/N is the most stubborn, persistent, devoted woman I’ve ever met. She isn’t giving up on looking for her sisters. She’s worried about continuing the search with us.”

“What?” Kili exclaimed. “What are you talking about?”

“Kili, brother,” Fili sighed. “I’m saying maybe my absence was exactly the two of you needed and you’re both still avoiding what I’ve seen for as long as we’ve known Y/N.” He finished off his ale and snatched Kili’s away before he could protest. “Now go talk to her.”

Kili swallowed, staring at the steps. It took one final shove from his brother to actually get him to stand up and move.

As he ascended the stairs, Kili thought about everything Fili had said. What did he mean, his absence was what you two needed? What did he know that Kili didn’t?

Of course, the younger prince knew exactly what his brother meant. He’d always known, even when he didn’t know how to admit it. But waking up in that tent, the panicked thoughts of you out in the storm, alone, the terror of losing you to the ice and snow, and holding you in his arms to keep you warm all revealed exactly what had been in his heart all these years.

He loved you.

Perhaps Fili was right.

Maybe it was time to finally tell you.

Kili found your room and stood before it for a good long while. He tried raising his hand to knock, but he was just… frozen in place.

What if this was a mistake?

What if decades of friendship fell apart in this moment?

What if-

The door opened and his heart stopped.

You startled back at the sight of his big brown eyes. The eyes you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about. The ones you wanted to get lost in and never be found. And he was there, waiting for you.

You both opened your mouths to speak and stopped, waiting for the other person, leaving you both in a tense silence. The same tension from the tent. The one that drew you together, closer and closer.

“Kili, I-”

His lips caught yours, silencing the words you still weren’t sure how to say. You let your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, closer still if that was even possible. Every moment, every breath from the last few days had been leading to this. And all either of you could think was one word.

Finally.

And as Fili watched you pull Kili into your room, kicking the door closed behind him, he was thinking the same thing.

“Finally,” he muttered, shaking his head as he went to his room, glad to have it to himself for a change.

Kili’s lips brushed against your forehead, the rest of your body completely tangled with his. Your arms wrapped around his bare chest, your legs wound between his, and your head was tucked under his chin. Your naked skin burned against each other but you never wanted it to stop.

And between every sigh, every pleasured cry or whispered word came one phrase. I love you.

He said it again, now. “I love you.”

You turned to look up at him. Into those eyes. The gaze that captured you more and more every time.

“And I you,” you said, kissing his collarbone, then his jaw, then finally his lips. “I have loved you ever since you taught me to shoot an arrow through the apples on our tree.”

Kili grinned, deepening the kiss and moving so his face hovered over yours.

“I’m still not giving up, you know,” he whispered. “We will find your sisters. And we will do it together.”

You wrapped a brown curl around your finger and nodded.

“I know. Before, I was just… scared.” You turned your head away. “That storm took me to a place I don’t want to go again.”

Kili laid a hand on your cheek, bringing your eyes back to his. “I’ll keep you safe.” He kissed your forehead again. “I promise.”

After letting the seriousness of your words settle for a moment, you grinned mischievously and rolled so that you straddled him.

“We should have tried this sooner,” you smirked.

Kili laughed and rolled again, putting him back above you. “It’s certainly a good way to stay warm.”

#kili #kili durin son #kili the hobbit #aidan turner #fili #kili and fili #kili x reader #the hobbit imagines #fantasy #winter #cuddling

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bookworm-with-coffee · 10 months

Text

Dancing With Death ~ Pt. 2. . .

(John Mitchell x Reader)

(A/N); Hello and welcome back to Dancing With Death! I present to you the second instalment! Please note, it's my first time writing proper smut, so I'm really sorry if it sucks!! Otherwise, enjoy!! ❤❤

Plot; When a human is invited to live with the gang, things get rather complicated for one John Mitchell...

Pairings; John Mitchell x Reader (Romantic)

Warnings; mature themes, violence, blood, coarse language, angst, smut (18+)

Part One

_________________________________________

Fate is rarely kind to those who tempt it. There is always a price to pay in the end.

The days drifted onwards, neither you or Mitchell caring to mention the almost-kiss you'd shared. Despite this, it was all you could think about. The way his gaze was so loving, his laugh, his confession in that hushed Irish accent. It gave you blissful goosebumps. But, those lips. So close, yet so far. You'd often imagined the feeling of him kissing you, the closest thing being that accidental brush. Tingles lingered where his lips had touched. It was so light and–

"(Y/n) (L/n), are you paying attention??", your teacher's voice rang out, shocking you from your thoughts.

"Pardon?", you sputtered. Your classmates giggled amongst themselves.

"Keep your attention in the here and now, Miss (L/n)", he reprimanded, before drawing his attention to the screen at the front of the room. It was going to be a very long morning for not just yourself.

Mitchell was working until noon at the hospital, bustling around in a hurry. Almost everywhere there was a spillage of some kind. It was unending for the poor vampire. And it was about to get worse.

A familiar head of blonde hair was weaving its way through the crowds, an exasperated sigh leaving the Irishman. "Ah, Mitchell", the older male greeted his acquaintance.

"Herrick", Mitchell returned, leaning on his mop.

"Don't look so unimpressed. I'll be needing word, if you don't mind?". With reluctance, Mitchell decided he'd entertain Herrick for a few moments, nodding silently. To anyone watching, Mitchell was a cleaner being questioned by a Police Officer. The head of the local department to be exact. Nothing out of the question there.

Their usual place to chat was the hospital canteen, Herrick ordering a coffee rather than the crappy hot chocolate that was made for him the last time. "What do you want? I work for a living", Mitchell ground out, staring the older man down from across their chosen table. Herrick was unintimidated by his counterpart, sipping his coffee without much care.

"I'm rather disappointed that you've forgotten", Herrick sighed. "Seth certainly hasn't".

"Seth is an arsehole", Mitchell shot back with a shrug.

"That's hardly news to the world, Mitchell. I'm talking about a very alarming incident. You know which one I'm referring to". The raven haired male narrowed his eyes for a moment before responding,

"What of it?".

"Your playing human, restricting your food habits is fine with me. But, taking it upon yourself to restrict others of our kind? That's just selfish", the blonde chided. "To make things worse, she now knows our secret".

"It's under control". Herrick's brows rose in intrigue.

"You must really trust this woman to be so sure of yourself", he mused. "Who is she to you, Mitchell? A colleague? A lover??". His eyes lit up with his next suggestion. "Your flatmate??".

"It's not your concern", Mitchell responded, irking Herrick into a laugh.

"Who's sick, sadistic idea was it then??", he asked, leaning across the table with a wolfish grin. "Gods, you must be suffering being so close to a human. Then again, you've always enjoyed being God's punching bag, haven't you?". The Irishman glowered, chewing the inside of his bottom lip. A violent delight flashed in Herrick's piercing blue gaze as it trailed over Mitchell's expression. "You've thought about it, haven't you? Plunging your fangs into her soft flesh, drinking the sweetness of her hot blood". Mitchell shifted uncomfortably, his gaze darting away from Herrick's in shame. "Letting that divine warmth trickle down your chin, finally satisfying the beast inside".

"Get to the point already", Mitchell snapped.

"You know what I want from you and it's all completely voluntary".

"To join your little 'army'? You really think this revolution is going to work, don't you?", he scoffed.

"I know it's going to work. We're high in number now, Mitchell. It's only a matter of time", Herrick insisted. "We want you back. I certainly do".

"And what if I did join you, Herrick?", Mitchell challenged. "Hypothetically. What would become of my life then?".

"Your friends are hardly our focus, Mitchell. We're using our gift to help people", the blonde huffed. "If you join us, I'll leave them be".

"Just like that?", Mitchell retorted. "So unlike you".

"Your friends are of no concern to me. One is a floating spirit, the other can't hope to lay a paw on me unless the moon is full and the last? Well, we all know how fragile humans are". Herrick tugged at his shoulders, taking another sip of his coffee. "If you're that worried for her, I can guarantee that she won't be harmed".

Mitchell's gaze narrowed in silent contemplation, suddenly widening at the sound of your voice. "Mitchell?", you called to him from the doorway of the canteen, a sense of horror filling him. You couldn't be here, not now. Herrick's grin widened, his charm switching on. The blonde smelt your scent from where he sat, recognising it as the same sweet smell he'd detected on Seth.

The Irishman stood, his counterpart following suit. You could tell something wasn't right, but the both of you stayed silent when you strayed into the room to embrace your friend. Herrick eyed you keenly, your eyes then falling onto him expectantly. "Well, Mitchell. Aren't you going to introduce us?", he chuckled.

"(Y/n), meet William Herrick", Mitchell's voice remained unenthusiastic. "Herrick, meet (Y/n)". Eagerly, the blonde officer shook your hand, almost startling you with his cold. Those keen eyes reminded you of– He had to be a vampire.

"A pleasure", he assured you, an unreadable twinkle to his blue eyes. "I'm an old friend of Mitchell's".

"Nice to meet you", you forced a smile in your nervousness. Mitchell's hand remained protectively on the small of your back, suddenly taking his chance to remove you from this situation.

"If you'll excuse us, Herrick. We really must be going", the Irishman began to pull you along steadily yet with some hurry, allowing for Herrick to show himself out whenever he chose.

"Of course, of course", he nodded, smiling knowingly. "You will consider my proposal, won't you?". Mitchell froze, turning over his shoulder to acknowledge Herrick's words with a curt nod before leaving.

"Who was that?", you asked when you both had reached the end of the hallway.

"Someone I would have preferred you never to meet", Mitchell sighed, sparing a worried glance over his shoulder. "But, it's done".

"I see now, I shouldn't have come".

"Nonsense. You got me out of there", he nudged you gently, the both of you lapsing into a short fit of laughter. "Why did you come?".

"I just wanted to walk home with you. Class finished early today", you gnawed on your lower lip nervously. He nodded in understanding,

"I'm off work anyway now". Maybe it was better that you had come to find him? With Herrick around, goodness knows who else could be lurking.

The walk home was comfortable, despite your previous awkwardness with Mitchell. In sensing that your hands were cold, the vampire had offered you the surprisingly warm crevice of his strong arm and his fingerless mittens. The sun was more forgiving today, hiding behind the rain clouds that were slowly moving in from the south. Mitchell had been practising going into public without his sunglasses. It was working for him, the dull brightness no longer affecting his sight. You smiled to yourself. With every passing day, he considered himself more human than the last. Yet, you already considered him more a human being than anyone else you'd met.

You both stepped into the house, expecting an excited Annie to greet you both. But, the house was dim and uncharacteristically quiet. A note was left on the table, saying that she was out shopping with George for tea bags among other important things for the pantry. "I can't imagine the tea canisters ever being empty again", Mitchell chuckled, slipping his jacket from his shoulders. In noticing your quiet, his brows furrowed. "Is something the matter?? Did Herrick frighten you?".

"No", you replied dismissively, waving him off with a smile. "I'm thinking".

"About??". Your eyes closed in a form of dread, bracing for the worst at your answer, "About us, Mitchell". He swallowed nervously. "What are we, you and me?". His hazel hues darted from yours, forcing a smile.

"We're friends?", he feigned confusion.

"Are we??", you challenged, your brows raising. Your eyes traced him. "I haven't stopped thinking about it, you know? That kiss".

"It was an accident", he insisted gently, his voice wavering in unsurity.

"Were your words an accident too, Mitchell??". His lashes fluttered, blinking away in anxiousness. He parted his lips to speak, but there was only silence. You stepped closer to his taller frame, your warmer hand reaching out hesitantly. Testing the waters, your fingertips brushed over his hand. He reciprocated in tangling your fingers within his. "Look, I know what you said could've been spur of the moment, but—".

"It wasn't", his soft voice cut in, his form moving almost flush against yours. His eyes were suddenly drawn to your own. "I meant what I said". He heard the flutters of your heart, every fibre of him being drawn to you. Your spare hand rested upon his silent chest, pulling him gently to you. His head dipped, your lashes tickling his skin. "We shouldn't—", he reasoned as his last form of restraint, his lips finally meeting yours.

And so, your dance with death began...

Fireworks gave off beneath your skin, Mitchell's spare hand reaching to twine his fingers into your hair. His other hand released yours to steady your face, your hands gripping his flannelette shirt to bring him closer. You both stumbled into the wall nearest to you, Mitchell's lips working in concentrated passion with your own. Your lips parted, his kiss becoming devouring. His fingers gripped at your hair, only tugging gently enough for a sigh to pass through your lips.

In retreating from your lips, he traced his own down your throat in delicate touches whilst you caught your breath. The temptation for your blood was undoubtedly there, being completely drowned out by Mitchell's other desires. His lips marked your collarbone, his lashes brushing over your skin when his ministrations grew slower. You sensed his hesitation, knowing that he must be growing worried.

To soothe him, your fingers wound through his dark curls whilst he worked, your lips brushing over his forehead and his cheek before you leant in close. "It's alright, Mitchell. I trust you". Your whisper against the shell of his ear, combined with your nails raking over his scalp awoke something almost feral within him.

More sure of himself, Mitchell's lips moved fervently across the skin of your neck. His tongue darted out to strike at your flesh, his lips caressing a place there that had you gasping. Mitchell's forehead met yours, his strong arms having no trouble in hoisting your legs around his waist, your hands grasping at his hair and shoulders.

His nose brushed yours, your lips moulding together in tender open-mouthed kisses as he guided you both out of the living space and up the stairs. Your waist moved against his, a soft groan heaving from his throat. "Christ, don't move like that, (Y/n). We'll never make it to the bedroom if you do", he warned with a playful grin, offering your lips another quick kiss before his steps lead you both into your room. One of his legs kicked out, the door slamming behind you both.

Mitchell's feet stumbled to the edge of your bed, the both of you smiling against each other's lips when they met again sweetly. His arms suddenly became absent beneath you, a short cry leaving your lips when you crashed onto your mattress. A laugh slipped from you, Mitchell's expression mirroring your own. His fingers gripped his undershirt, lazily pulling it and his flannel shirt over his head at the same time. "You're certainly praticed at this", you jested, his brows wiggling suggestively.

"You haven't seen me with a bra", Mitchell replied with a short giggle, discarding his clothing. You stood from the bed, circling your arms around his broad frame.

Carefully, you'd noted his battle scars from his time at war, his hazel gaze glinting with a tenderness in watching you look over them. His lips parted when your mouth and fingertips graced over those old wounds affectionately. No one had ever cared for or noticed those marks before. "Thank you", he murmured against your forehead, a soft smile still present in his gratitude. His fingers moved to your back, silently asking for permission.

"Please", you responded, his face lighting up. The Irishman pressed a kiss along your jaw, before lifting your shirt over your head. You nodded, beckoning him to continue. His lips ignited goosebumps over your skin when they kissed slowly and sensually along your bare shoulders. With a twisting of his fingers, your bra clasp suddenly fell loose, the garment being completely discarded. Your brows rose. "You weren't kidding".

Another soft giggle slipped from Mitchell's lips, his hazel hues glittering with adoration when they met your own. "You're so, so beautiful", his hushed breath fanned over your skin. His cooler hands grazed over your bare back in loving caresses, moving his hand to cup one of your breasts. He only swiped his thumb over your bud, your form jolting forwards into his instinctively. His head ducked, laying feathersoft kisses on your lips, cascading down your throat again, his hands tracing soft patterns over the sensitive flesh of your stomach to the hem of your pants.

"Please, Mitchell", you begged softly, the Irishman wasting no time in pulling the button of your pants loose, allowing them to form a pile by your feet.

Mitchell guided you gently onto the mattress, his form coming to hover over your own. His large hand flattened over your stomach, his lips grazing the shell of your ear.

"Do you want me to—", he began, inching his fingers lower in suggestion.

"Yes". His soul warmed, the vampire relishing in how trusting and carefree you were within each other. He delighted in the gasp that tumbled from your lips when his digits slipped into your underwear, quickly becoming coated in your slick. Your nails clawed into the muscles of his arm when he moved them languidly between your folds and across that sensitive bundle of nerves. He bit down on his lip to fight his smile at feeling you writhing beneath him, letting him know wordlessly in your huffs and mutterings that he was hitting all the right places. His teeth nibbled against the shell of your ear pleasurably, hoping to get your folds slick enough in preparation for him. You fought your building high, begging Mitchell to stop. He obeyed, a soft laugh escaping him when your hands worked down the bare skin of his abdomen, to tug on the hem of his pants. The Irishman relented to your shared wants, pressing a loving kiss to your forehead. Both his boxers and jeans were removed together, quickly becoming discarded with the other items of your clothing.

Mitchell's soft lips seized your own, your hands coming to cradle his face. He braced himself on your mattress, lining himself up carefully. Once sure, his hips snapped upwards, your mouth falling open against his. His eyes fell closed in a squint, his dark brows furrowing as a shaky moan passed through his throat. Your breaths steadied as you became adjusted to him, his hips slowly beginning to rock into your own experimentally. You hummed eagerly, snatching his lips into your own. "Mitchell", his name tumbled from your lips, your fingers lacing into those thick curls as his pace quickened.

His kisses were searing, but gentle. There was mixtures of your teeth and his, pulling at each other as Mitchell's movements became deeper. The thirst for your blood had him tensing and grimacing, his lower lip being drawn between his teeth in concentration. A metallic taste hit his tongue; his own blood from biting down so hard. You helped to keep him grounded, allowing his hands to run across your open palms before pinning them to the mattress.

The Irishman's brows remained furrowed, focused on giving and sharing in your pleasure. Your breathy whimpers, soft curses and ragged gasping were all music to his ears. He found joy in the fact there was a deeper connection than just lust or a means to feed, as sex had often been for him. It was instead loving, slow and caring towards each other's needs. Mitchell finally felt that he could love and be loved equally in return.

A sharp gasp suddenly slipped from your throat, Mitchell hitting a place that had you seeing stars. Your back arched into him, your waist snapping up to meet his rhythmic movements. Feeling a heat tightening in his lower abdomen, Mitchell didn't allow himself to lose any self control over the side of him that hungered for your blood. His hazel eyes flickered open, ablaze with desire and adoration. Your heated breaths mingled, Mitchell's lips lowering again to your own. Gods, you really were beautiful.

With your heart now racing, you felt every wave of stimulation building up within you. You felt your eyes lolling back, Mitchell's movements allowing him to continuously drag across that spot in you without mercy. "Oh, Mitchell", you sighed, your gaze barely able to focus on his face.

Mitchell smiled. You were so close now, he could feel it. Your breaths had quickened and you were practically squirming with every thrust. His hands pinned yours higher, holding them down with only one. His now spare hand travelled between the small space between your moving bodies, a small cry of pleasure shooting from you when his digits began rubbing circles over your small bud.

Mitchell's tongue traced the skin beneath your ear, fighting the painful urges to feed from you whilst he pressed hot open-mouthed kisses to your flesh. His ministrations in time with his thrusts were too much, suddenly hitting a boiling point within you.

Trembling beneath him, your throat suddenly tightened, your mouth falling open in a silent scream. Your eyes squeezed shut, your back arching again into him as all the gravity in the room seemed to change. Mitchell's name was a hushed mantra on your lips, the winding tightness snapping within Mitchell's abdomen not long after. His body felt alight with a sudden wave of euphoria as a few strained grunts left his lips. Your name tumbled from his lips amidst a string of other profanities, slowly coming down from his high and allowing you to ride out yours.

When his movements ceased, your bodies remained tangled for a few moments, completely reduced to putty within each other's embrace. Mitchell's eyes had closed, suddenly shooting open in concern. There was no blood, well— he wiped at his mouth, the crimson wetness of his own apparent on his fingers. Fang marks were etched into his skin where he'd bitten down harshly. Shocked at his own restraint, he looked down at your peaceful expression with a growing smile. He'd done it.

Your (e/c) orbs flickered open, a lazy smile meeting your eyes when you cradled his face. Unbothered by the blood, your lips captured his, stroking your fingers over his skin when he returned the kiss. When your lips parted, your fingertips traced over his small wounds in concern. "It's fine", he insisted softly, noting your worry. "Hardly hurt".

Removing himself from you, Mitchell happily took it upon himself to carefully clean you both up with a warm cloth. Neither of you redressed, slipping under your covers to relax in each other's arms.

Pulling Mitchell's dark curls from his face, his head shifted from its place upon your chest to gaze up at you. His wounds on his mouth had miraculously healed after he'd cleaned them, your brows rising in wonder. "Was it hard for you?", you asked with great hesitation. Knowing what you were referring to, the Irishman felt that he should be honest.

"It was", he murmured, conceding that his predatory side was quite painful to control. You took a breath, your lips parting. A silent debate on whether or not to ask.

"If I wasn't human, would that make things easier for you?". Catching on to what you meant, Mitchell's brows furrowed,

"Why would you ever want to give up what you are to become like me??".

"To lessen your pain, to be with you without risk of injury or loss". A kind, yet sad smile dawned on the Irishman's strong features, his hand reaching to sweep the fringe from your face.

"All are human", he whispered, his hand retreating from your face to curl his arm around you affectionately. "You don't want this life, (Y/n). And I won't give it to you".

"Why not??", you asked quietly. Hazel hues danced over your features, his fingers drawing imaginary patterns along the bare skin of your abdomen before grasping your hand. He placed it over his cheek, your thumb caressing over the stubble of his face. His head leant into your touch, his mouth pressing a kiss into your palm.

"I'd miss this warmth. Your skin is so beautifully warm to the touch. All that life; gone in an instant", he sighed, squeezing your hand. Mitchell moved his head to lay it where your heart thrummed beneath your skin. "I'd miss hearing this sound too. It's soothing".

You couldn't help the smile that came to your face, having no prior idea that he'd appreciated these things so much. Whilst you swept your hand over his hair in careful strokes, he continued, "(Y/n), this life took all of that and more from me. I'm just thankful that this life gave me you, but I won't let it take that from me too".

"I'm not going anywhere", you assured him, softly laying a comforting kiss to the top of his hair.

The haunting image of Lauren's hatred filled his mind. Mitchell couldn't handle it if ever you looked at him in that way, the way she had. The thought terrified him to no end, his eyes furiously blinking away the tears forming in his gaze. "This life changes you, (Y/n). I wouldn't wish it on anyone", he mumbled, pressing a kiss to the skin of your chest. "You're perfect as you are. And I love you".

Your embrace tightened around the Irishman, both your eyes and his coming to a restful close. "I love you too, Mitchell".

In the many days and weeks that followed, your relationship with the vampire flourished. George and Annie were overjoyed when the both of you made your status known. Mitchell was now sure of where he belonged in the world and what he'd do to protect those people closest to him.

Foolishly thinking that Herrick had growing morals and that he'd offer his family protection, Mitchell had made the decision to accept the proposal. The blonde's jaw almost hit the floor when Mitchell marched through the doors of his office at B. Edwards.

"They won't be harmed? I have your word??". Smiling broadly, Herrick replied,

"Of course".

"I'm in".

The vampires welcomed Mitchell back into their coven with open arms. It was blissful at first, to be part of his own kind again. The Irishman hated the stories told about his early days as a vampire, having no choice but to give in to his urges to survive back then. It was a time he'd rather forget.

Herrick respected that Mitchell still wished not to feed on humans, hoping that he would come around at some point. The blonde was recruiting more people, saving them from the cusp of death to live in his growing underground society. Mitchell gave him the edge and reputation he needed just by standing in the room. It was perfect.

Until you'd found out from Josie, another former lover of Mitchell's from the 60s, that Mitchell was getting himself into a lot of trouble. She'd met you only a week or two ago, over the moon that Mitchell was pursuing a strong relationship with yourself. Now she worried that it would all end in tatters if he went on any longer with Herrick and his goons.

You'd had no idea, alike to Annie and George, that Mitchell had joined Herrick. Feeling as if your trust had somewhat been betrayed in him not telling you, you had also grown confused. "He hates Herrick— why— what could make him join that man?", you sputtered. Josie's hand clasped your own.

"Mitchell does a lot for those he loves", she sighed wistfully. "He tried to get Herrick to convince me to join them, in their society. To stop my cancer. As honourable as it seemed, he knows as well as I that death is human".

Your mouth fell open slightly, the truth striking you almost painfully. This sounded so different from the Mitchell you knew. Your mind drifted back to his words to you in the afterglow of your first lovemaking. It seemed so long ago now. Josie squeezed your hand. "You need to stop him, (Y/n). Find him. Get him back. I'll tell George". You nodded, returning the gesture before breaking into a sprint down the street.

Every thought you had was honed on Mitchell. You had an inkling to his whereabouts, George having mentioned something about a 'B. Edwards' place to you once. You prayed that you'd get there in time, a sinking feeling beginning to pool in the pits of your stomach.

Your legs burned with fatigue and your lungs gasped for air in the cool winds of the day, your journey leading you through many streets. The funeral home was only a handful of blocks from your house, the sign with 'B. Edwards', like an eery archway over the gates when you'd spotted it. Fury and adrenaline coursed through your system, not caring or thinking when you passed through the glass doors of the establishment.

An elderly woman sat to your left upon entry, her pale eyes fixed on a magazine. The air was unusually cold and musty, every piece of furniture or decor an antique. Your entry sparked the male seated at the desk to rise to his feet. You instantly recognised his face. Seth. Your mind flashed to that night from months ago and it seemed his did as well when a sly grin grew onto his features. "Nice to see you again, Lovely—", he started.

"Where's Mitchell?". Your question had the growing fire in his eyes dimming into a scowl.

"She certainly gets her manners from Mitchell, don't you think?", Herrick laughed upon entering the room, responding to you before his counterpart could. Your eyes darted to the blonde male who offered you a charming smile. "Come now, we're all friends here".

"Just tell me where he is and I'll be on my way", you snapped.

" 'On your way'??", he repeated, wholeheartedly amused. "That just wouldn't be good hospitality, Darling". Your teeth clenched within your mouth, fighting the urge to scream in frustration. "Nanna has made us some lovely biscuits and tea! We'd be so delighted to have you!". The way he'd offered it was so lighthearted, anyone else would've thought him kind. You knew better.

Seth rounded the desk all too quickly, flanking your right to ensure you couldn't escape. The elderly lady, you came to realise, was the vampire Herrick had referred to. She eyed you keenly from where she sat, also making sure you couldn't run. Seth's hand was at the ready, hovering behind you to grip your arm should it be necessary.

With reluctance, you forced a smile, Herrick delighting in your decision to join them without struggle. You marched forwards at your own accord, slowly realising that every set of eyes in this establishment belonged to a vampire. The way they stared was so unlike Mitchell's glance. His was soft, kind. Every gaze here was fixed on you like a vulture. Some part of you wished you'd brought a weapon or a stake with you before rushing into this situation.

Herrick lead you with a kind hand on the small of your back to a room with biscuits and tea laid upon the table. "Have a seat there, Love", he gestured to a comfortable seat, the anxiety and regret rising into your throat. Still, Herrick's voice remained feathersoft, unintimidating. His touch had given you chills, his blue gaze seeming to see through you. Two security guards, also vampires, flanked Herrick. Seth quickly left your side to attend the front desk again once you were seated.

The blonde poured you a cup of tea, adding but a sugar or two before passing it across the dining table. "Pick yourself some biscuits, Love", he grinned. "Don't be shy, now". You didn't trust the tea or the biscuits, afraid they'd been drugged or laced with something malicious. Vampires were immune to poisons and drugs, after all.

"Where's Mitchell?", you repeated your question, more gentle than it had been with Seth. "I want to speak with him".

"Mitchell's just out for the moment. When he's back, I'll give him straight to you". His response was careful and you didn't trust his words in the slightest. "I'm sure he'd appreciate us taking care of you. After all, it's what he wanted?".

"Liar", you muttered, his brows raising.

"How you wound me, (Y/n)", he sighed with some disappointment. "I wasn't lying. How else do you think I managed to convince him to join us?". He took a sip of his tea, eyeing you from the lip of his cup. "Goodness knows why he protects you. You clearly hurt him more than your words could ever hurt me". Your brows creased.

"What are you talking about?". A soft laugh slipped from the blonde,

"What? Hasn't he told you?". Herrick took your silence as his answer, growing further amused with the situation. "He's in pain, Sweetheart. Every day. To be near a human is agonising enough for a few moments. Mitchell has to live with you, 24/7". His blue gaze trailed over your features. "It's a wonder he hasn't given in yet or turned you".

A thickness formed in your throat, the guilt swirling in your eyes. Mitchell had never mentioned such pain to you. Was it really that difficult for him??

"He told me he'd never give me this life", you shot back. "That this life changes you. And as far as I'm concerned, I'll take his advice in not wanting it". Herrick pursed his lips, a slow sigh exhaling from his nostrils. Softly, his head shook in some semblance of dejection.

"Now that is a pity", he sighed. "But to be expected". Your brows furrowed again in confusion. "Mitchell has truly got you wound around that thumb of his to blind you so easily from the gift that is immortality".

"Gift?", you scoffed. "It took everything from him!".

"Is that what he told you?", Herrick huffed in amusement, beginning to drum his fingers on the table. "The same man who would pass immortality out like pamphlets on the street? It's thanks to Mitchell that our recruitment is up, Sweetheart".

You blinked profusely, stiffening up in a sense of disbelief. Yet, there was no dishonesty in Herrick's keen blue gaze as it scanned over you the way Seth's had. It was unsettling.

"You poor girl", he mused, his grin becoming almost wolfish. "How misplaced your loyalty has been. It can have better uses. With any luck".

"What do you mean?". And that's when you noted the rhythm of Herrick's fingers. It almost sounded like a heartbeat, progressively growing quicker. Taunting you.

The guards that flanked the blonde's side slowly shifted, your arms gripping your chair and eyeing them in nervousness. "Listen", Herrick whispered, drumming his fingers louder. "That's your heartbeat, (Y/n). Savour that sound. It just may very well be the last time you hear it".

________________________________________

I hope you all enjoyed this second instalment with a part three coming soon!! As always, any and all feedback is welcome!! If you want to be a part of my taglist, check out my masterlist and let me know what you'd like to be tagged in!! Thank you all for stopping by and supporting my works!! ❤❤

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mikathemonster · 2 years

Text

“getting handsy”

author’s note: hey everyone! this is my first piece, so I'm pretty stoked about it :))) just to clarify, this is a slightly different AU in which you possess the elven blades Gandalf and the gang find in the troll's cave (everything else storyline-wise is relatively the same, though). this took me two nights to write, mostly because i kept getting so excited to write it that i couldn’t sleep! it was originally supposed to be an assassin Y/N with the tagline being “getting handsy?” but that derailed as i wrote this so who knows! maybe i’ll write another with the original idea! anyways, let me know what you think! also, this was originally going to be two parts, with second being a little more smutty. let me know if y’all still want that!

Pairing: Kíli / Gender-neutral Human Reader

Word Count: 4,039

summary: despite unwillingly joining Thorin’s company at the suggestion of Gandalf, it seems the cheeky brown-haired dwarf prince who disarmed you is slowly growing on you

content warnings: fluff, bruises, suggestive language and a little flirting, angry dwarves, mentions of a village being burnt down, honestly it’s from the lotr franchise so i’m just gonna go ahead and label it PG-13, y’all know what you’re expecting

DO NOT REPOST OR COPY. MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT.

It had been a long three days of traveling east, the heat and wind reminding you of simpler times when bathing was a luxury; for you see, you had been carrying precious artifacts with you in order to sell it to a buyer just past the Carrock, towards Mirkwood. While the artifacts had no real use to you, you wondered curiously of what your buyer could want with three Elven blades, and why they needed it so urgently that you haven’t even the time to wash the wind from your hair. I mean, come on: after orcs, goblins, and foul-breathed men, you were supposed to guard these swords with your life?

Truth be told, that was the way of life you had come to know for the past three years; a life of smuggling, a life of delivery, and ultimately, a lonely life. But there was no room for relationships of any kind when you were known well for your messenger capabilities. Various parties, all of devious backgrounds, would seek you out to deliver messages, goods, and once, even a prisoner. It was by their tongues that you were known well as The Untouchable, a moniker you had gained after seemingly cheating death 5 times to deliver a set of precious jewels to an Elven king. And as such, people believed you to be untouchable by even Death himself, though you wouldn’t necessarily agree. As a matter of fact, a part of you wondered if you were growing less fond of your uncommon occupation; the past three years had already worn you dull at times. But then again, you hadn’t a clue of what you’d do if it weren’t for these recent gigs.

And so you continued your passage to the east, towards the mountains and ultimately Mirkwood. The sun had set just moments ago, and you knew you had to seek shelter soon; traveling at night had become increasingly more dangerous these past few months, for reasons unknown to you. And while you weren’t excited to make camp in the Trollshaws, it seemed safer than continuing along the East-West Road into the murky night.

It didn’t take long for you to set up camp, keeping yourself inside the hollow of an old tree to avoid thieves in the night from finding you and trying to covet what isn’t even yours. These swords had been more trouble than they were worth during your journey. You couldn’t tell what was so special about them, besides the fact that they were oddly light to hold, and incredibly stronger than you first had thought, using one of them to chop up firewood a few nights ago. Night set in, and your thoughts began to slow as sleep overcame your tired body.

You were suddenly stirred from your sleep as you heard a group of shouts coming from the edge of the woods. Your head snapped up, your body jolted awake despite the fatigue of your trek, and your hand carefully hovered over one of the Elven blades as you listened closely, discerning whether or not it was a threat to you. What time was it? The moon still slept in the sky and yet it seemed a lighter blue than when you had first fallen asleep in your oaken hideout. Was it soon to be morning? You crept carefully closer in the direction of the voices, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on edge as you tried to clear your mind and even your breaths, uneven from your rather rude awakening.

Creeping ever closer, you could finally see between thick-leaved trees that some mountain trolls had made camp, the screaming coming from their assumed dinner as your gaze shifted to the fourteen men tied up in short brown sacks, the sacks comically tied around their necks, giving them only their voices. Dwarves, you could tell, mostly from the impeccably-groomed beards but also from their sheer temperament. It seemed an even-smaller man (Perhaps a hobbit? But what would he be doing so far from the Shire?) was standing in his sack, desperately trying to convince the trolls not to eat them. You sighed to yourself, glad that the screaming hadn't proven to be a threat to you, but rather to their own misfortune.

A part of you wondered if you should intervene, though you weren't entirely sure what you could do; you were more adept at preventing your own death, not so much at saving others from it. But still unsure, you chose to at least see if anything would happen; after all, daylight would soon be upon you all. Perhaps if you could cut a tree down as a distraction? But there was no telling how long that would take...

Unbeknownst to you, amidst all of the yelling, a certain white-bearded dwarf had caught his eyes to you, squinting to see if you were friend or foe (Not that it mattered, considering they were about to die).

Soon, just as you had figured there was nothing you could do, especially against three mountain trolls, a giant cracking could be heard, and the troll's camp was flooded with the sun's early morning light. The trolls quickly turned to stone, and cheers were heard as the dwarves began helping each other out of their bindings. Chatter was heard amongst themselves, and a small breath of relief slipped past your lips. Making out the silhouette, you quickly recognized who stood atop the cracked stone, and knew you'd have to slip away soon lest you be caught.

"Masters, I believe we're still not alone," the white-haired dwarf spoke, and you muttered a swear under your breath. It was time to go.

"I believe you're right, Master Balin. Who are you, hiding in the trees?" The grey wizard called out, stepping closer and bringing the dwarves' attention with him. Fuck. You'd been found, and the risk of being chased if you ran worried you more than revealing yourself. And so, with careful steps and outstretched arms, you approached from behind the tree.

"Gandalf," you smiled. "It's been some time, old friend. Miss me much?"

The smallest man, who you now knew to be a hobbit from his feet, gave the wizard a perplexed look. "I'm sorry, you know this person?"

The wizard let out a wise chuckle. "Why yes, Master Baggins, this is the Untouchable Y/N. And what are you doing spying on our company?" He lit his pipe, smiling.

"Yes, I'd like to ask the same," another dwarf spoke, this time coming from the stoic one with gorgeous black hair. "I hear tales of your smuggling and thievery, so what brings you right to us?"

You cast a skeptical look to the black-haired dwarf, not liking his distrustful glare. "I'm no thief, just a messenger. My business is not with you. I merely worried for your safety."

"Worried? Only to watch us be eaten?" The white-haired dwarf, who you now knew was Balin, seemed to also be skeptical of you, but his gaze was less hateful than that of his companion.

"Now, now, let's settle down. Y/N is no threat to you all, that I can assure you." Gandalf puffed his pipe, pointing it at you. "They're the reason we have Master Baggins here with us, after all."

"I'm sorry, uh, what now?" The hobbit cast his gaze to you, still perplexed. "They did what?"

"I had asked them to accompany us as our burglar first, but they turned me down." The wizard drew another breath from his pipe.

You sighed, rolling your eyes at the old sorcerer. "I'm a messenger, not a thief. As stated before," you cast a glare at the black-hair dwarf. "I have business elsewhere."

The black-haired dwarf turned his glare to Gandalf now. "You told this human of our quest?"

A musing 'hm' left the grey man's lips. "Master Thorin, I can promise you that your secret is safe with Y/N. They're not the kind to tell their friends."

You scoffed. "If I had friends to speak of, no thanks to you, old man." You crossed your arms, looking to Thorin. "And since I have to keep repeating myself, I'm already busy. I've no time for meddling with dwarves and dragons, not to mention everything in between."

"And what do you have time for, Y/N?" Gandalf mused.

Meanwhile, Thorin had trudged off, gathering his men and their belongings once more since being sacked.

You sighed, showing your back. "I've to deliver these blades to a buyer near Mirkwood. No idea who it is, though; only a letter telling me where to find the blades and where to bring them." What you didn't mention was that you had found them in a troll-hoard, next to a pile of skeletons. You decided that was all the information you would give the clever wizard, not wanting to disclose all of your secrets to people who already didn't seem too keen to be near you.

"Hm, may I see them?" He asked gingerly, raising a brow at you. It seemed like always, Gandalf was curious of what you were up to. And not wanting to raise any unnecessary suspicion, you obliged.

You handed him the two swords off of your back, not disclosing that the third blade, a dagger, lay hidden underneath your clothes in your chest. Better safe than sorry when you're with… troublesome company.

Unsheathing each blade, Gandalf drew in a breath. "My dear Y/N, do you have any idea what these are?" He showed the blade's detail to you, just as Thorin began to approach you two. "These were forged in Gondolin by the High Elves of the First Age."

Upon hearing this, Thorin scoffed, to which the wizard was quick to cut him off. "You could not wish for a finer blade!" His scowl softened back as he turned to you again. "Here, keep them safe."

You nodded, taking back the blades as you threw them back on your back; a part of you cursed yourself for not knowing their true power. Nothing was stopping you from keeping one to yourself…

Thorin looked to Gandalf, beckoning him away. "Come, we must make use of the daylight; we haven't much time to waste." The wizard looked at you, and all you could see were the gears turning in his head.

"Y/N, join us on our journey," he offered, much to Thorin's disgust.

"Gandalf, I already told you I'm-"

"Busy, yes. But we're both heading the same direction, are we not?" He looked at you and Thorin, who looked you up and down before sighing.

"Don't slow us down." He spoke before you could even get a word in. "Kíli, take their weapons," he beckoned a dark-brown-haired dwarf over, one that bore a little resemblance to him, much to your dismay.

“Excuse me? What for?” You spoke up, offended by the notion. Thorin simply looked you up and down, speaking with disgust.

“If you travel with us, you do it without that Elven filth on you.”

“Master Thorin, need I remind you-“ Gandalf tried to intercept, but was cut off.

“They may be fine blades, that I trust. What I don’t trust is a stranger joining us with such fine weapons. You’ll get them back once we part.” Thorin clarified, motioning to the brown-haired dwarf once again. “Kíli, their weapons.”

You sighed after seeing Gandalf’s defeated gaze. Fine, there was nothing to be done. Of course, you could always travel alone; you were good at taking care of yourself already on such travels, but the chance of safer lodging with Gandalf persuaded you to stay. Kíli approached you, offering a nod of acknowledgment before removing the swords on your back. You held your arms out as he patted your sleeves, moving up until he reached the third blade. Well, the secret was out. Great.

He struggled to remove the blade without undoing part of your tunic, causing you to scoff and roll your eyes, but you maintained a slight smile. “Getting handsy, are we?” You looked down at the dwarf, who grew red at your comment, clearing his throat.

“I’m usually more polite,” he chirped back, much to your surprise.

“By all means, take your time. I’m sure Thorin will appreciate it,” you retorted sarcastically. After a few more pats, Kíli cleared his throat once more, handing the two swords to Balin to carry, and pocketing the dagger at his side. Greedy man.

But finally, you were off, stuck to tag along for sake of convenience versus pleasure.

Screw safety! Joining them had proven more stress than it was worth as you had been chased down by wargs and orcs and narrowly missed death yet again after thinking you’d be trapped in a cave! And all the while, you had still been denied your weapons, with Kíli and Balin instructed to keep them from you; at this point, it felt out of spite. You assumed your only luck came from Gandalf knowing the way to Rivendell, much to Thorin’s chagrin. But even among your own frustrations, you could not deny the beauty of such a city. It was practically glowing and beaming with light, as was the nature of Elves, and Lord Elrond’s hospitality brought relief to your aching bones. A meal! A warm bed! And most importantly, a bath!

However, your comrades (if you could even call the strangers that) seemed less than impressed with the feast offered to you all. Dwalin and Oín seemed the most disgusted by the array of leafy greens and hearty vegetables, but your hunger quickly guided your tongue in chiding them.

“Oh, hush! Don’t tell me you’d rather starve?” You rolled your eyes, earning a look from the two in question. Oín rolled his own eyes back at you, refusing to address your retort.

“Have they got any chips?” He asked, looking between Bofur and Dwalin again. You had learned some of their names from Thorin’s commanding shouts as you all had outran the orcs, and it was making your trip a little less confusing at the very least.

After a bit of eating, you noticed Kíli winking at one of the Elves around you. He seemed cheekier than he had been when he had disarmed you, and you were curious if this was the real him. A thief and a flirt.

“I can’t say I fancy elf maids myself,” he said to his companions. “Too thin. They’re all high cheekbones and creamy skin. Not enough facial hair for me. Although, that one there’s not bad.”

You almost had the urge to call him out, but were beaten to the punch by Dwalin, who made it known that the Elf in question was no woman, but a man. You choked back a chortle as the table erupted into laughter, meanwhile Kíli sat in his awkward shame, admitting the humor of the situation. You cleared your throat, adding in a chuckle.

“Well don’t be ashamed! Go on then, don’t be shy. Tell us about his ‘creamy skin’, eh?” You laughed, and Kíli shot you a small smirk, waving a hand to dismiss your comment.

You had long finished your meal, the group beginning to divide into smaller ones as the men decided whether to go to their rooms or wander about. Thorin and Gandalf were still busy with Lord Elrond, and by the looks of it, you figured you had enough time to bathe. You left the dining hall (though the space was so open, you were unsure if ‘hall’ was even the right word to use) to hunt down your room, hoping to find a towel of some sort.

Now, while you knew you were sharing a room, you had forgotten your bunkmates, it seems. Yes, you remembered that Bilbo and the blonder dwarf brother were sharing your quarters, but you were caught off guard to open the door and see Kíli on his side in bed, facing away from you. He hadn’t stirred when you opened the door, and so you wondered if he was asleep.

Now’s the chance, you thought as you crept closer to his sleeping form. You had been wondering how you’d get your blades back, and now seemed as good as any opportunity to try. And so you stepped closer as quietly as you could until you were leaning over his sleeping form; his eyes were closed, so you were assured that he was sleeping. With ginger hands, you delicately reached for the hilt of the blade, which was tucked into the belt of his tunic. Carefully, you held your breath as you raised his belt to try and free your blade and spring it free…

“And I’m the handsy one?” His eyes shot open and you jumped back, eyes wide with shock as you realized he had been awake the entire time. He sat up, chuckling with a cheeky smirk as he looked at your figure in the dimly-lit room. “I didn’t mean to scare you, I swear.”

You bit your tongue, slightly angry. “Don’t accuse me of trying to bed you, I merely want what’s mine.” You spoke curtly, trying to hide the venom and embarrassment of being caught.

“Oh? But I thought this was someone else’s blade? Didn’t you say you were just doing a delivery? Just a messenger?” He taunted, scratching the stubble on his chin. A part of you didn’t want to admit it, but now that you were much closer and actually paying attention, he was quite handsome. A bit scruff, but otherwise beautiful. You hated that you thought of him like that, especially right now as he was teasing you.

“Which means that my job is to hold on to such deliveries, not you. Just give it back and spare me your mockery.” You crossed your arms, frustrated.

“I mean not to mock you,” He shook his head, now standing up. “But my uncle would have my backside if I returned your effects, I’m afraid.”

You groaned, wanting to escape the presence of this rather handsome-but-annoying dwarf. “Fine. I’m leaving.” You stepped away, rummaging through the storage closet in the room as you grabbed a towel before leaving, heading for the baths.

You stormed out of your shared room and into the bathhouse, thanking some unknown entity that they were empty and steaming. You sighed as you set your things down nearby, careful of your bruises as you undressed yourself and heaving a sigh of frustration as you did so. Gods, the nerve of that dwarf! Pretending to be asleep, keeping what was yours (even though it wasn’t) and having the gall to smirk about the whole thing?! It was easier (and much more therapeutic) to feel angry about it all instead of actually admitting your embarrassment.

And so, with flushed ears and a warmer temper, you stepped into the warm and misty waters of the bathhouse, a groan slipping past your lips as your body throbbed before being soothed by the healing waters. You drew in a deep breath through your nose, a pleasant smile gracing your lips as the scent of rosemary and mint met your nostrils. Finally, you could wash off the journey and hopefully your frustration as well. You sighed, happy to finally have one decent night of rest and relief; you made a mental note to thank Gandalf later, despite the rough journey that got you here.

Time passed and you weren’t entirely sure how long you had been here, though the urge to sink further into the pool crossed your mind more than once. How long had it been, an hour? Maybe more? You figured you were fine to soak more if your group was still staying the night, but your mind replayed the question more, making you worried. What if everyone left later? In any case, you deemed it best to hurry up, grateful for the time you had already spent in the steamy bathhouse. Letting your hair down, you sunk lower into the water, as you had decided you would wash your hair last. You soaked your head, running your fingers through your scalp as you massaged the wind and rain and dirt from your locks, humming in satisfaction of the feeling it gave you.

Suddenly, you heard footsteps approaching; ducking your body into the water until nothing but your head remained above, you squinted your eyes towards the doorway, trying to peer through the steam to discern your approaching company. And to your surprise, the same cheeky dwarf from earlier emerged through the steam, looking around until his eyes caught yours; quickly realizing you were bathing, his eyes widened and he quickly turned around, offering you some privacy.

“Sorry!” He said, clearing his throat. “I was asked to come find you, it seems that Elf Lord will help us read our map.”

You held in a smirk of your own at his embarrassed tone, feeling a small sort of revenge from it. “And am I needed to attend?”

He nodded, “Uncle told me that Gandalf had asked you to be there. That’s all I know.”

“Uncle?” You questioned. “Thorin, I presume?”

He nodded again; you had guessed that earlier based on his reaction to trying to take back your blade.

You sighed. “Well, alright. I suppose if he asked for me…” You stood up, your back facing him as you worried he would try to peek.

“Have you been friends long? You and Gandalf, I mean.” His question came after he could hear you dressing yourself, catching you off guard. You hadn’t expected him to be curious, perhaps you had judged him wrongly earlier. You chuckled as memories came back to you.

“Yes, for a few years now. He met me before I was a messenger, and is the reason I went down this path. Though I wouldn’t say his presence is always welcoming; if there’s one thing that old wizard summons, it’s trouble. He’s reckless.” Though your tone was firm, you couldn’t help the smile forming on your lips.

Gandalf had met you before you started any of your adventures, finding you in your hometown and setting you on the path of a delivery-man after your village had been burned to the ground.

“I see,” he spoke, nodding with a slight hum as you finished dressing yourself. “You sound like my mother.”

“I’m sorry?” You raised a brow.

“My mother says the same thing about me; that I’m reckless, and stir up too much trouble.” He chuckled to himself, caught wistfully in his own memory.

You finished getting dressed, your hand touching his shoulder to acknowledge him as you stood behind him. He flinched only slightly, not expecting the touch as he turned and faced you, looking to your eyes. “Oh? Well, I can’t say I wouldn’t disagree, but are you?” You asked.

“Nah,” He shook his head with a small smile, his eyes softening as he looked up at you. For a moment, your cheeks flushed as his stare continued for a moment of silence. “Listen, about earlier, I-“

“It’s fine, I’m the one who should apologize,” You cut him off. “Besides, I’d rather save the trouble of fighting a dwarf over a sword that isn’t mine.”

He smiled, “I must say, while I have no inclination to fight you either, I enjoyed your adventurous efforts earlier.”

You flushed again, thankful the steam hid the true details of both of you. Clearing your throat, you shook your head. “I suppose you’re to lead me to Gandalf?”

He chuckled, nodding his head. “Yes, alright. They’re waiting on us anyways… not that I exactly mind keeping them waiting.” He had muttered the last part under his breath but your keen ears caught it. Smiling to yourself, you tucked some loose hair away as you walked through the Elven halls. All of your frustration from earlier had subsided for a moment, though truthfully it shouldn’t have been directed at Kíli if at all; his uncle was definitely higher on your blacklist.

“Perhaps I don’t mind either,” you whispered under your breath. For however short or long your journey with this man would be, a part of you was interested to see how much you’d enjoy it.

proofread by @v1olentdelights <3

#kili x reader #kili fanfic #kili durin #lotr x reader #lotr #the hobbit #kili #the hobbit fanfic #aidan turner #the hobbit fic #the hobbit fanfiction #kili/reader

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legolaslovely · 2 years

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Alone

A/N: Hello friends! I hope you enjoy this little story. It was a nice way to step back into writing after some time off due to some career stuff. Leave it to Kíli to make me come crawling back haha!

Pairing: Kíli x Reader

Word Count: 1,446

Warnings: talk of mental health issues, Hurt/Comfort, reader is a dwarf, reader wears skirts

Summary: You find Kíli alone during a hard day and he invites you to spend some time with him.

All credits to pinterest photos used below are in an original post here

It wasn’t often that you saw the royal corridors glowing in the afternoon sunlight. It was richer and more golden than that of the early morning, blasting, rather than sneaking through the high, thin slices of painted glass above you. It was as if the sun itself had lit the many torches lining the walls, instead of the tireless guards of the mountain who you knew actually kept them bright and tidy. As you walked toward your chambers, you slowed to admire the colorful beams along the stone, lest your duties keep you from ever enjoying them again. After all, it was customary for you to leave your quarters just after dawn and only return to them once the sun was safely tucked away for the evening. This day, however, you had a break in your schedule and you meant to enjoy the performance before you.

Until you were interrupted.

“(Y/N),” you heard.

You turned to see Fíli. The sunlight- orange and red and blue from the stained glass- danced in his golden hair like unbound fire and winked at you from his shining beads. Not that he noticed. He was concerned.

“Have you seen Kíli?” he asked you.

“Not since breakfast this morning,” you said.

Fíli hummed. He looked at the dull floor, again missing the magic around him.

“Why?” you asked.

“He… I’m not sure. He was very quiet during our meeting with Uncle’s advisors this morning. But I may be making something out of nothing.”

You knew that wasn’t likely. Fíli was always right when it came to his brother. Even more often than you were.

“He’s probably off with his bow somewhere blowing off some steam,” Fíli said.

You agreed. “If I see him, I’ll send word to you.”

“Thank you, (Y/N),” he said with a soft smile.

He turned from you and walked down the corridor the way he came, head cast down as he went.

You too ignored the dancing sunlight as you made your way to your chambers with purpose and speed now, no matter how the colors around you begged for your attention.

As usual, two guards flanked the large doorway to the rooms that you and Kíli shared. You nodded your greeting to them, flashing a smile that you knew wasn’t as bright as intended due to your worry. The lock to the door clunked and you opened the heavy wooden door until you saw Kíli sitting at his desk straight ahead. Though he heard your entrance, he didn’t turn to you.

You spoke to one of the guards in a soft voice that Kíli wouldn’t hear. “Rava, will you please send word to Prince Fili of his brother’s whereabouts? Assure him we will be spending the afternoon here and will see him at supper.”

Rava nodded and left.

The room was so still and quiet that your presence alone seemed to send harsh waves over still water, like a ship assaulting a tranquil lake.

“Would you like to be alone for a while?” you asked.

“Stay if you’d like,” Kíli answered, his voice deep from lack of use. There was no teasing in his words, no smirk, no smile.

The moment you decided to let him be, leave him to those thoughts and emotions you didn’t yet understand, he slid an extra chair out from under his desk with his foot. He placed it beside him, facing him, waiting for you.

At the doorway, you slid out of your heavy boots. You stood them up neatly next to Kíli’s and made your way to him, shedding the outer layer of your clothing and tossing it on the neatly made bed before standing behind him. Only then, with your hips pressed against the wooden back of his chair, did you see what he was doing. He was painting.

Fili was right. Something was wrong. Painting was an activity Kíli only took part in on his darkest days.

He was surrounded by a mess of supplies, sitting hunched over in his chair, his hands in fists, his ever-twitching legs still and tense. He stabbed his brush into a jar of water and swizzled it with a ferocity that would have startled any onlooker. You, however, knew it was an energy of concentration that gave Kíli his heavy hand, not one of rage.

He explained it to you once, how painting helped him. When his thoughts circled and conversations replayed and the voice in his head growled and sneered its harmful words, painting was the only thing that gave him peace. Mixing hues and shades took him somewhere else, set him free, while his texture work- stippling and sweeping and everything in between- left the world quiet. He could escape his own mind for a while. Be alone.

With you.

He’d wound his hair back into one thick braid, possibly at the beginning of his session. Since then, however, it had come loose, dropping long locks into his face and strands that would tickle his cheeks and forehead with every breath. You guessed that he’d been impatiently tucking them away behind his ears ever since, because the closer you looked, the more crusted paint you could see in his dark hair.

Testing, you took a piece near the front of his head and twisted it in your fingers until it became a sturdy rope. Before you could slide it behind his ear, however, Kíli straightened his back for you, silently giving you permission. He continued to work, using a knife to blend some colors, while you deftly wove his hair into a tight, but comfortable braid that would stay in place until he was finished. You ignored the fraudulent pigments in his hair and the way they peeled away from his strands and stuck under your nails. On days like this, it wasn’t unusual for you both to end up striped with paint, little consequential pieces of art leftover from Kíli’s spell.

You pressed your lips to the side of his head and cupped your hands over his shoulders in a way that wouldn’t impede his work. The scent you breathed in was so perfectly Kíli- soap, sweat, and smoke, now with added hints of acrylic and oil. You kissed his hair and left him to his painting, his freedom and peace. His shoulders curled and he hunched over the desk again, intent on his vision.

There was a book waiting for you on your bedside table. It was something you’d asked for from the library of Dale and had been delivered to you the evening before. It was a piece of human fiction, one recommended to you by a friend you’d met in the literary building.

You took the leather bound book from where it had been left and brought it with you to the seat Kíli had pulled out for you. Gently, so as not to shake the desk, you sat in the cushioned chair and lifted your skirts to cross one leg over the other. Content to sit for the remainder of the afternoon, you opened the book’s cover, excited to begin the story. As you flipped to the following pages, however, a strong hand took your ankle. You jumped, surprised at the fingers wrapping around your naked skin, and watched Kíli as he brought your foot to rest in his lap. Looking down past his canvas, he then reached for your other calf, squeezing it as he lifted it to rest next to its twin.

He didn’t look at you, his expression didn’t change, his heavy brows didn’t lift, but as he continued to dab his paint brush over his work, his free hand gently slid your skirts up your legs, like lifting a sheet off a sleeping babe, freeing you from the round of your knees to the tips of your bare toes. He caressed your skin, swiping his thumb over the plump muscle of your calf and the bones of your ankle and knee as if he planned to paint you next, and create your image from touch alone.

As excited as you were to have this book delivered to the mountain, you didn’t pay it much attention that afternoon. You were busy spying on Kíli, peeking at him while he blended and mixed colors. Watching the shadows gradually lift from his face, releasing the lines in his forehead and the downward turn of his rosy lips. Grinning to yourself when he unwittingly left streaks of blue paint on your legs. Feeling every moment of Kíli’s affection- that which he gave to you even in his darkest moments.

Because even when he wished most to be alone, he wanted you there.

Taglist: Thanks for reading!

@emrfangirl @misslongcep @raindancer2004 @ladybugg1235 @xxbyimm @burningcoffeetimetravel-fics @fire-flv @nerdbirdsworld @dashesofink @winchesterandpie @tumblinglringlring @specialagentsnark @karlthecat15722 @sagabriar @marymegger @aidan-kili-mitchell-forever @cassiabaggins @guardianofrivendell @lathalea @laurfilijames @moniamoure @justfollowtheroad @vem-vem-writes @justbecausewhynot @dark-angel-is-back

#kili #kili x reader #kili fic #the hobbit #the hobbit fic #the hobbit fandom #lotr #kili fanfic #kili fanfiction #aidan turner #kili the dwarf #the hobbit fanfiction #hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort fic

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lady-spacy · 25 days

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Pt. 3 Children of the kindly west (Kíli x Reader) — A tale of two dwarven hearts

This is a translation, more of a re-write, of a fanfiction I wrote first in German during 2013 - 2015 when the Hobbit movies premiered and I was just as obsessed and enamored by that adorable prince like everyone else. And reading the Silmarillion for the first time this year in February brought me back to middle-earth and reminded me of my love of dwarves. And this brings me here today. Enjoy! Cross-posted on AO3 here. P.S. Feel free to tell me if any warnings or tags are missing. And if you want to be tagged in future parts! <3

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 *coming soon*

Warnings: Mutual Thirsting/ Pining, mentions of a naked female body under a nightgown, mentions of breasts, some sexual and romantic tension

New-found Friends

„Do you like Kíli?“, Syniver asked with an innocent face.

„I really like him!“, she continued. „He is so tall and funny!“

She laughed and rolled over a small sofa in the corner of the kitchen, standing up and giving an impression of Kíli when he huffed and rested his hands on his hips, when he was about to loose a game.

You smiled. You smiled about how wonderful your sister was and how much fun she was having.

But her question continued to linger in your mind, did you like Kíli?

Was one afternoon, one evening enough to say whether you liked your old acquaintance more than you had before?

It probably was enough. You had not laughed as much in a long time, spending time with him felt natural and easy and you wanted more.

More of him! You wanted to get to know the man he had become. The man whose eyes sparkled from within!

You met him again on the next day, when he came by to bring some knitted work that his mother had done for Syniver and your mother invited him to stay for an early tea.

And a few days after that you took the long route to the market, that led by the house of his family, hoping that you would see him. And you were lucky, he was outside shoveling snow from the pathway — you smiled at him and waved. He waved back with an excited grin and something deep inside you felt full and warm.

You stopped to talk with him and he offered to accompany you again.

„But don’t you need to finish shoveling here?“, you had asked and he had just shrugged.

„I’ll finish it later, or Fíli will do it. Or it snows more and then I have to do it again anyways.“

„Alright“, you had agreed and had taken his arm that he had offered you once again

„And besides“, he had added with the sparkle in his eyes that you had started to always look out for, „ I prefer your company over the shovel’s anytime!“

„I am glad to hear that I am more pleasant to be around than a shovel“, you had laughed but it had died in your throat as you had caught Kíli’s eyes on you and somehow you had gotten tangled up in them.

You had eventually torn your eyes away from his, missing the quick flash of confusion, as you had looked away and got out your shopping list from your pocket, ignoring the way your hands had trembled.

You were woken up by the repeated and unrelenting calling of your name a few days after your last day with Kíli.

You groaned, turned to the side and hoped that Syniver would be quiet soon, if she would not get an answer from you and your closed door.

Speaking of your closed door, you heard muffled voices on the hallway and a half-awake part of your brain chose to listen to them as you caught your name being said.

„Oh yes, she’s here. She’s maybe still sleeping. You can just go in!“, Syniver cheerfully explained and a horrified male voice answered.

„I can not go in there. I will not disturb her privacy!“

Kíli!

„Oh, why?“, asked Syniver’s voice confused and you thought the same.

‚Yes, why would he not come in’, the half-asleep part of your brain wondered, having him here with you would be heavenly, you could breathe in his musky scent of leather, pine trees, smoke and horse and it would surround you completely…

He would surround you completely.

Kíli’s voice sighed and then he answered.

„Just family can go to someone when they are sleeping, I am just a…“ He paused and you felt your heart hammering in your chest, what would he say now? What was he?

„I am merely a friend!“, he said slowly.

Just a friend.

What did you expect would he say?

Sighing, you threw your head back deeper into your pillows and opened your eyes.

Taking in the light of the day that filled your chamber you decided that you were awake now and got out of your bed. You turned to look for your dress that you had laid over a chair the night before.

And then your door opened. Syniver stood there and looked pleased with herself.

„See, she’s not sleeping anymore!“, she exclaimed loudly over her shoulder to Kíli, who stood behind her with a mortified look on his face.

The two of you stared at each other, mouth open and you felt the heat rise in your cheeks and saw how his cheeks reddened as well.

The heavy up and down of your chest brought you back to reality and you stumbled over your feet in an attempt to find something, anything to cover yourself with. You grabbed your dress from the chair and pressed it to your front.

Kíli had moved in the same time as you had come back to your senses, stuttering apologies over and over again and fled from the hallway, you heard his panicked steps on the stairs.

„Can you not knock?“, you asked Syniver over your heavy beating heart with more anger than she deserved.

„This was embarrassing!“, you sank back down onto your bed, resting your head against the bed post, suddenly exhausted, the dress still pressed to your body, that felt uncomfortably hot and aware of the fabric of your nightgown on your skin. You wore a simple white nightgown made from a light, fine fabric that could be quite translucent — oh Mahal, what had he seen?

He was never supposed to see you like this, hair open and unkempt, barely a braid in it and nearly naked. He was a prince after all! And he had offered you his company and his friendship, he had offered you his brilliant grin and sparkling eyes.

You wanted nothing but to be worthy of his kindness and friendship, you had to be your best self!

And this was barely your best self, just right out of bed! You groaned and looked at Syniver with pained eyes, who stood confused by your side and wondered why you and Kíli were acting so strange.

While you got dressed and tried to explain to Syniver why knocking is of importance and why you cherished your privacy, was Kíli running out of your house and straight to his. He spoke with nobody on his way, thankfully was no one home when he arrived, and gathered his bow and arrow together with his hunting gear and fled to the woods.

He went by foot, needing to run, needing to move, needing to get the image of you out of his head.

You bathed in sunlight, hair flowing freely over your shoulders, just a few little braids with golden beads on the ends sprinkled through it, cheeks and lips rosy and fresh from sleep —

You standing against the golden sunlight that made the fabric of your nightgown so sheer, that he could see the voluptuous contours of your breasts and the lush outlines of your waist, full belly and hips…

You staring at him with big surprised eyes, lips slightly parted, chest heaving, breasts moving with each breath under your nightgown.

And he had stared, he could not take his eyes away from you and your body, he should have looked away! He should have stopped Syniver when she opened the door!

He did not deserve to see you like this, fresh after the night, glowing like one of the goddesses of old that he had heard so many stories about.

Who was he anyways? Just the second-born prince of a kingdom he did not even knew, he spat out this title in disgust, even in thoughts.

And he was so oddly lean, too lean for a respectable dwarven warrior, his hair was too straight and he seemed to be unable to grow a beard.

People had mocked him, they have cackled behind their hands pressed over their mouths for all of his life.

And amidst everything was you, beautiful, cheerful and well-spoken you.

You, whose eyes and face were kind to him, he felt seen in your gaze. In the best way possible.

When you smiled at him, laughing at one of your own jokes or his, when you two chatted away was he finally feeling like he could just be.

He felt like he was enough, let the people talk, when he had your smile and your warmth next to him.

You had knocked him off his feet, literally.

Which was surprising and unexpected. He had barely given you a second thought in the past, the daughter of his mother’s best friend. Tiny and always behind him, his brother and other children. You had played together, spending more time arguing about a game than actually playing it.

But you had found ways to arrange yourself and your games and still, he had never looked twice. You were just there. Until now.

When your worlds had collided and were joined again by impact.

Oh Mahal, he slowed down his running and sighed, what have you done to me?

Later on the same day were you working in the kitchen, making a fresh batch of bread, and hitting the dough more than kneading it.

You were still embarrassed about what had happened in the morning, still unsure on how to continue and you did not even knew why he had come to you in the first place.

A knock on the door made you pause in beating up the dough and you wiped your hands clean from flour on your apron while yelling “coming” towards the door.

You went to open the door and it was Kíli’s remorseful face greeting you with a shaky grin.

“Hello”, he whispered with a hoarse voice.

His eyes barely sparkled anymore, you noticed with a growing concern.

Was he not feeling well?

“Can I come in? I have brought you, I mean not you, you, I mean you and your family of course, some rabbits that I have freshly hunted today…”

And indeed, he had five already skinned rabbits hanging over his shoulder.

You smiled carefully and nodded.

“Of course! You are always welcome here!”

He breathed out in relief and his steps got his usual bounce back as he strode confidently into the kitchen.

And when he turned to you were his eyes sparkling again! You grinned, happy at the sight.

He gave you the rabbits and told you that he had already gutted them.

“They are ready for cooking or smoking!”

“Excellent!”, you answered.

“Mother will decide later on what will happen to them, my responsibility today is only the bread”, you nodded towards your kitchen’s worktop where still the bread dough rested. He followed your look.

He kept his eyes on the dough and said quietly: “Can I talk to you? I have to apologise for my behavior today…”

He still was not looking at you.

“Of course…”, you nodded and got up to put away the rabbits into the cold storage room under your kitchen.

“Will you help me with these?”, you nodded towards the rabbits while climbing down the ladder into the storage room.

Kíli got up as well, without saying a word and handed you two rabbits at a time.

After he had given you the first pair he started speaking.

“I am awfully sorry for my disturbance in your privacy earlier! I should have never looked into your private chambers, Syniver had told me that you were still sleeping… I should have left right there.

It will never happen again!”, he said, voice coated with remorse and pain, while handing you the next two rabbits and you stored them carefully away.

“I have already forgiven you”, you answered after a quick minute, where you had gathered your thoughts.

“It was a stupid accident! And also quite hilarious, if you think about it. As if any visitor sees the people in a house in their night wear…”, you laughed and Kíli gave you the last rabbit and smiled slightly in an attempt to answer your laughter.

“Why did you come by anyways?”, you asked, as you climbed the ladder up again.

“Oh, I was just wanting to ask – CAREFUL!”, he suddenly yelled, as your foot slipped from

the last step of the ladder as you had stepped accidentally onto the hem of your dress.

He grabbed you by the arm and you cling onto him instinctively and he helped you carefully back onto the safe ground of the kitchen floor.

Your eyes got tangled into each other once again as he still held you close to him.

*You were already standing safely back on the ground but neither of you moved, the two of you were not even blinking!

You breathed out and smiled at him, breaking the spell. He instantly released your arm and made a quick step back from you.

“Thank you – for saving me. This could have gone very differently without you…”, you shuddered as you looked down the ladder onto the dark, solid ground.

“We’re square now”, he answered with his usual grin. Everything was fine again.

“You ran into, well over, me and most certainly saved me from eventually doing something stupid that day on the market in regards to Fíli’s lover and now I saved you. We’re even!”

“I am glad”, you said.

“You were just about to tell why you came by this morning…”, you reminded him.

“Oh yes, I wanted to ask you if you wanted to spend the day with me, hunting, riding in the forest…”, he looked at you with hopeful eyes and your heart melted instantly.

“Can we still do that? This sounds lovely!”

“If you want to, there’s still enough daylight left for a short trip. I know a lovely little pond, it is frozen now of course, but it is beautiful with frozen waterfalls…”, Kíli’s eyes sparkled and sparkled and your heart was full and happy. You wanted to ride through the forest by his side, you wanted to see the beautiful little pond, you wanted to see the world through his eyes!

You wanted to get to know his world!

And so you did.

Today’s ride through the forrest would be the first of many more to come.

He showed you hidden places, full of beauty and wonder. He showed you, where the rare white deer grazed during the winter months and you spent hours watching them from deep within the undergrowth of big, old trees.

„Some say“, he told you one day, „that these trees are older than the elves in middle-earth…“

You cocked your head to the side and looked at the gigantic trees around you, covered in all kinds of evergreens, moss and dead looking climbing plants — you knew that they would become lush and green soon enough when spring would arrive.

The trees were old, sturdy and had a rough bark that protected them from the seasons and weathers and apparently time.

„What they must have seen in all of these ages…“, you wondered and caught Kíli looking at you from the side.

You smiled at him, it was an instinct, you could not not smile when you saw or just thought of him, and his eyes sparkled, when he returned your smile.

„The most extraordinary wonders“, he answered solemnly and kept looking at you and his smile lit a fire of gold and brown in his eyes, like a fragrant late summer day over freshly dug soil.

You wanted to keep the happiness that radiated off of him in your life and your heart forever, it made you feel whole.

Of course, you were your own person but with him by your side, it felt like your life had doubled.

Everything had intensified over the span of the days and weeks since Kíli had come back into your life.

He gave you so much. So much laughter, so much joy, he filled your heart and soul with warmth and let your insides tingle pleasantly.

His smile, his slightly curved pink lips, his sparkling eyes, his strong hands, his skillful fingers that flitted over the neck of his fiddle when he played his happy melodies…

He was all of this and more and you had started to wonder how you were ever able to live without the light he brought.

It was one of the evenings that you had spent with him in front of the fireplace in the welcoming living room of his family’s house — he and Fíli had played their fiddles and you had danced to their tunes, you had hummed along, happy songs about the most beloved treasures, of rare gems and of girls and boys flirting and dancing at their town’s festivals.

You had pressed your favorite book, that you had read to the brothers before, to your chest, taking it as your dance partner and swirled around the room, laughing and swinging…

But your eyes never left Kíli. You kept your eyes on him for the whole time.

You admired how he used his whole body to play his fiddle, how he moved along to the music, how his arms moved when he played, how he kept his full body tension —

pressing his chin gently to his fiddle to keep it stable on his shoulder and how his bow in his right hand danced confidently over the strings all while the fingers of his left hand bounced masterfully over the fiddle’s neck…

He was otherworldly beautiful, like a mythical creature from another realm, his dark hair in contrast to his sky blue tunic, his cheeks reddened from playing and laughing in the warmth of the fire in the room and always his eyes.

Sparkling. Fixed on you. Smiling slightly, as much as his play allowed.

And you danced, danced with your happiness and joy. Danced with a full heart and a soul that felt complete.

In the night that followed you saw yourself dancing in your dreams, your skirts twirled around you and you laughed. The You that you observed looked directly at you and you saw her smile so brightly, so beautifully.

Your face rosy and a few strands of hair were sticking to the sides of your face, where sweat glittered in the light of the fire.

You were beautiful. Any doubt that you ever had about yourself faded as you observed your dream self.

She was glowing. She was everything.

And you knew, even after waking, that she was not a creation of your mind, she was you and you were her.

Kíli saw himself this night in his dreams as well.

He saw himself like you had seen him. Beautiful, ethereal and worthy of your admiration.

He did not saw the little boy in the shadow of his brother and uncle, who was always trying to prove himself to them and the world. He saw a man, strong, capable and enough, even handsome, just like he was. And for the blessed moments that his dream lasted, he accepted your vision fully.

He just did not know that it was your eyes he had seen himself through.

Just like you did not know that you had seen yourself through his eyes.

Efís had stopped talking and the children all looked up to her with big eyes, questions flashing up behind their eyes.

“Why were they dreaming of themselves? Don’t you usually dream of other people and not about yourself?”, one of the older girls asked.

“Oh well”, Efís smiled slightly, her eyes fixing at a far point over the fire place, while she thought of her answer.

“There are stories, stories of old, that tell of bound, fated souls, souls tied together by Mahal himself, when He created them.

Kíli and who was merely just his childhood acquaintance once were always destined to be more than friends or lovers. I believe firmly that their souls were promised to each other by Mahal, just like in the old stories . I believe they were the One for each other.

And the old stories also say that people, whose souls were were bound together in the moment of their creation, were able to see through the eyes of the beloved. Especially in dreams.

They caught a glimpse of their own soul and it inspired them, healed them, nourished them and made the love in their hearts burn even brighter than before. If it ever was possible.

But the pair in our story, though fated, was not yet aware that it was love that was growing quickly and rapidly in their hearts.

But it would change very soon.

On a fateful day in the deep winter, when Fíli celebrated his 81st birthday Kíli and his One were both met with a burning desire for each other— and burning jealousy. But before I tell you about their hearts matters, do you want more cookies?”

The children screamed in joy and nodded ferociously.

“Very well then, dears, let me get the next platter!”

Efís laughed contently on her way to the kitchen, she was happy that the children, who came to visit her, shared her love for wonderful baked goods and the stories of old. This way was she making sure that the heritage of their people, stories, songs, everything that made their culture so rich, would be passed on for generations to come.

She continued speaking, after she was seated again and the children happily produced cookie crumbs on her carpet and the room was once again filled with eating children, their breathing, their sniffling and the crackling of the fire.

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luna-writes-stuff · 1 year

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Day 10: Wildest Dreams, Kili Durin

Song link

Fanfic, gn!reader

Bittersweet angst, light fluff

Word count: 2551

Tw: HE IS BACK. THE BABY. HE HAS RETURNED. Slight infidelity??? Ugh so much pain and torment, but so sweet and endearing at the same time. Kingdom customs; marriage for alliances/forced marriages. Kili is sad. You are sad. Life is cruel.

Summary: From the moment he met you, he knew he wanted to marry you. And from the moment you saw him, you knew you’d let him. But growing older wasn’t fun. Especially when you were promised to another. And now you and Kili have to deal with the aftermath of it.

Pt. 2 can be found here

"He said, "Let's get out of this town Drive out of the city, away from the crowds"."

There was something so deeply enchanting and captivating about that single voice you long to hear all day. That particular pair of arms you had been longing for since the sun rose. To be with the only person in the world, who knew you better than you knew yourself.

Long minutes turned into long hours, but the moment you set foot in your chambers, he had stood there; hair disheveled, eyes droopy, shoulders fallen, but he had stood there. Exhaustion carved into his features, though you were sure you looked no different.

“Come with me,” he had called. You knew better than to object.

You had found a little place, just below Ravenhill, months ago. Where snow fell, but temperatures weren’t freezing. Where the cold had turned water to ice, but left its rocky surfaces intact. You and Kili had come there often since the rebuilding of Erebor. A little place to run from the crowds surrounding you all day. A moment to finally breathe.

"I thought Heaven can't help me now Nothing lasts forever But this is gonna take me down."

The second both of you touched the familiar grounds, your bodies hit the frosted flake-covered floor, a content sigh escaping both your lips at the same time.

There were no whispers in the air. No commands, nor questions. No busy footsteps, or searching eyes. There was wind, and the far-away song of the birds. There was the sound of trees moving with the wind, dropping snow on the ground, and there was his laugh.

Turning your head to the left, you stared at him. Where his sudden joy came from, you could not tell, but it made you smile as well.

“What is so funny?” You wondered.

His head turned to yours, the crinkles by his eyes filling your heart with a warm feeling. His hand reached yours, lacing your pinky with his, before taking your entire hand.

“It’s so silent.” He whispered, as if he dared not to disturb the air.

His other hand extended towards your body, silently ushering for you to come closer. And you obeyed his quiet words. Setting your head atop his chest, you looked up at the sky. The snow had stopped hours ago, but the clouds still hung in the air, nearly obscuring the sun. It had been late, that much you knew, but you had moments before it would get dark. And you were peaceful laying where you were.

"He's so tall and handsome as hell He's so bad, but he does it so well I can see the end as it begins."

“Can we not stay like this forever?” He mumbled, letting his free hand run through your hair, fiddling with the ends of it, unspoken wishes dying on his tongue.

“Frozen on the floor?” You tried to joke, looking up at him through a smile. But the mischievous look on his face had long disappeared.

“It would almost seem poetic.” He uttered, his eyes set on the sky above him.

“Yes,” you agreed silently, “But you and I both know we can’t.”

A hum of agreement escaped his throat, his hand now resting on your waist, as he tugged you even closer, forcing you into his heavy, woolen coat.

"My one condition is Say you'll remember me Standing in a nice dress Staring at the sunset, babe."

No moment you had known ever came as close to peace as the one you found yourself in at that exact moment. Words and thoughts be damned, you would have your own love and appreciation tucked in this little corner of the world. And you could shape it however you liked.

However, corners were only small parts, and the world had held other intentions. Moments of peace or solitude were rare, and you had learned to treasure them over the years.

Kili had been the best thing to happen to you in a long time. He had been there whenever you needed him, offering comfort in the exact manner you had requested it. He knew how to keep his space, but also how to respectfully invade yours.

He was thoughtful, kind, sincere, and devout. And you knew that something as beautiful as that would not be everlasting. But only minutes were enough to keep you going for weeks.

"Red lips and rosy cheeks Say you'll see me again Even if it's just in your wildest dreams, Wildest dreams."

Vice versa, Kili believed his life started the day he met you. His life long, he had been prepared for what the world would give him. What would happen if he were to live in Erebor again?

But the day he met you, he knew what he wanted to do with the rest of his years. He could not care about glory, nor royalty. It was you that kept him in line. You, who had given him every reason to wake up with a smile every morning.

His mother used to tease him about it, and Fili knew all too well how to push his buttons. But for once in his life, Kili could stand the teasing remarks. He had you, and that was all that he could possibly care about.

"I said, "No one has to know what we do" His hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room."

He had remembered telling you he would marry you when he was older, the day before he even learned your name. Both of you had been mere dwarflings, but you remembered that day as clearly as he did.

He had been running from his brother, who was deeply upset to be pushed into that mud puddle, when he - quite literally - bumped into you. You had fallen to the floor with him, a sob already getting stuck in your throat. And poor Kili had not known what to say.

But the second you looked up, crestfallen eyes staring into his, he had frozen, and spoken these exact words.

“I shall marry you one day.”

"And his voice is a familiar sound Nothing lasts forever But this is getting good now."

These were the words that had been stuck in his brain ever since. These were the words echoing through his head at that exact moment; both your bodies on the frozen earth, your head on his chest, his arm around you.

Torture, torment, bittersweet agony. Call it what you want, but he felt it. Every single day he would spend ent around you.

But never did he dare to leave your side. Not even when it hurt him so.

"He's so tall and handsome as hell He's so bad, but he does it so well And when we've had our very last kiss My last request is."

“Balin said I should go for green.” You announced, breaking the long silence, shaking Kili out of his thoughts.

“Green?” He repeated, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

“Yes,” You affirmed, fiddling with his fingers as you kept talking. “He says it compliments my eyes.”

Kili merely scoffed upon the words, shaking his head as snow began to decorate his face. Giggling at the sight, you turned your face into his chest.

“He’s old. He does not know what he is suggesting.” The dwarf objected, grabbing your fingers teasingly.

“Yes?” You questioned, smiling at his positive shift in mood.

“Yes.” Kili testified, remaining with his words, shoving a mocking ‘green’ under his breath.

"Say you'll remember me Standing in a nice dress Staring at the sunset, babe."

“Blue,” he suggested, nodding his head as the word rolled off his tongue. “You look good in blue.”

Chuckling at his speech, you turned your head back up, sitting up slightly as to face him.

“Blue is your color.” You pointed out, aiming your finger at his chest in accusation.

Kili feigned innocence, shrugging lightly as he played with the edges of your coat. “And so?”

"Red lips and rosy cheeks Say you'll see me again Even if it's just in your wildest dreams Wildest dreams."

“I see you in blue constantly.” He confessed, finally looking down at you, his eyes nearly piercing yours with a look you could not quite place.

Taken aback by his words, you frowned slightly, your eyes meeting your coat.

“My wardrobe does not share that much blue.”

“In my dreams,” He countered, leaning his head towards yours as he placed a light kiss on top of your hair. “You are never seen without it.”

And just like that, dread settled in, buried anxiety awakening all of the sudden, ringing loud alarms in your head as your mind flashed back to the days before Erebor had been reclaimed.

“Blue is a rather sad color, do you not think?” You managed out.

Kili had sensed your new discomfort, but instead of softening his tone, he just smiled, closing his eyes in short-lived bliss.

“If it is so sad, how come you look so breathtaking in it?”

"You'll see me in hindsight Tangled up with you all night Burning it down."

He had not been lying about those words. He knew blue was his color, and red had been that of his brother, but there was something so satisfying to him when seeing you in that darker clothing. Whereas his brother seemed to light up an entire room with his wardrobe, Kili seemed to blend in with the people more.

It often became his way of hiding. He grew comfortable in it, and he longed to see you in it more often. Not as to necessarily hide with him, but because - to him - it seemed so right. As if it had always meant to be like that.

"Someday when you leave me I bet these memories Follow you around."

The closer you had come to Erebor, the lighter your clothes became. What was once a black tunic, turned brown. Those delicate vests you wore had turned red, and your loose hair became adorned with golden beads.

The change was the very worst to him, and it had taunted you as well. But you were left choiceless, and Kili could do nothing but stare.

With time comes change, both of you knew. But some things change for the worse, and may never turn back to the way they were. And how you had wished life would stay the same for you.

How Kili had wished to hold you in his arms every single night.

"You'll see me in hindsight Tangled up with you all night Burning it down."

“Maybe I will,” you mumbled, sitting up as you brushed the snow from your back.

Following suit, Kili sat behind you, taking over your work as he gently brushed off the flakes, his hands lingering on your shoulders longer than they had perhaps needed.

His head fell on your shoulders, a soft kiss placed within the crook of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. Unable to help yourself, you smiled at the notion, reaching up to run your finger through his hair gently, tugging out one knot that had formed on the floor.

"Someday when you leave me I bet these memories Follow you around."

“I still think about that day,” Kili whispered as your fingers still worked through his hair. His breath was hot on your neck, be it from the cold winter air, or your flushed state.

You swallowed thickly, not halting your movements, though they did stutter momentarily.

“As do I.” You admitted, lacing your other hand through his fingers. Kili’s head did not move. He seemed too lost in thought. And you had almost let him be. But his thoughts were yours also, and you could not stop yourself from voicing them.

“Do you think we could have stayed there?”

"Say you'll remember me Standing in a nice dress Staring at the sunset, babe."

No word was spoken for a short moment, the loud wind filling the air once more, a sense of rest, yet unwanted rest passing through you.

“I wish we could.” Kili ultimately voiced. “Every single night, I do.”

His head shifted now, his eyebrows resting on your shoulder as he peppered your coat in kisses. You could not feel them, but you were aware they were there.

You turned around as he halted, your legs on either side of his body as you cuddled up to him, your head back on his chest.

His hand immediately flew to your hair, keeping you close, as the other reached for your back, making sure you could lean back without falling over. His head buried in your neck again as he inhaled your scent, sighing deeply.

“How I wish we could have stayed there.”

"Red lips and rosy cheeks Say you'll see me again Even if it's just pretend."

Growing up, you always held a vision. Whether that be beautiful or not, you would always wish the best for yourself. But even more to others you cared about.

You would have done everything in your power to make Kili happy. You would have sacrificed your own joy, your own will, but more often than not, your life is not truly yours. You do not get to make all the decisions.

If it had been up to you, you would have sat there with Kili until hell froze over. Until the two of you would be set in stone - quite literally. The sun would fade and the stars would fall, but you would sit there with him.

But now, the person you had loved most, had been pried from your hands.

"Say you'll remember me Standing in a nice dress Staring at the sunset, babe."

You loved him, you truly did. He was patient, loving, and nurturing. He knew what he wanted, but he always kept you in mind. He made sure you were there beside him, that you were comfortable, well cared for.

He kept a seat for you at every table, he never started anything without you, he held your hand when there was none to hold. He cared for you a great deal, that you knew. And you weren’t fair against him.

"Red lips and rosy cheeks Say you'll see me again Even if it's just in your wildest dreams, In your wildest dreams."

He tried his best, but no matter how much he tried to keep you happy, he was no Kili. He could not understand you the way Kili did. And he put so much effort into it. He adored you as if you were a god yourself. He nearly worshipped you.

It wasn’t fair to him.

But it wasn’t fair to Kili either. For where you had promised to marry him, you were left without say, without choices. Everything had been planned, the arrangements had been made. All you had to do was live up to them.

It wasn’t fair to Kili, when you had to walk down that aisle in a blue gown. It wasn’t fair to Kili when you walked past him, only a short glance thrown his way.

And it wasn’t fair to Kili, how you had taken his brother’s hand, instead of his own.

"Even if it's just stayed in your wildest dreams, In your wildest dreams."

#november writings 2022 #Kili #kili Durin #Aidan turner #th #the hobbit #jrr tolkien #Tolkien #lotr #kili x reader

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marvel-queens-world · 2 days

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So thinking of starting writing again as I have a few ideas for imagines but not doing anything about it 😂. So this is who I'll be writing for if anyone would like to request an imagine. I do write smut as well if that is what you would like to request 😉

Sam Winchester, Sebastian Stan, Bucky Barnes, Nick Stokes (been rewatching CSI), Chris Evans, Steve Rogers and Aidan Turner (And his characters)

#sam winchester x reader #sam winchester #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester smut #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan #nick stokes #nick stokes imagine #aidan turner #aidan turner imagines #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut #chris evans imagines

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faeriichaii · 4 months

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Hello! Could I have a request for kili x fem reader where reader is a pirate and her and her crew capture him and the others and there's some interest between kili and reader? 🤭Ty!

My Treasure ~ Kili x Fem!Pirate!Reader

A/N: Omg listen I have seen the request like the day you sent it to me and I love love love the idea!! Ngl I had so much fun writing this and like I love him so much and the fact that she is a pirate ugh I love it!!!! I really hope you like it cause I really loved writing this <33

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Warnings: fluff ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Words: 1.8k ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Request: Yes (Thank you <33) ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Amrâlimé ~ My Love ࿐ྂ

Summary: You have been travelling the sea for years on your wonderful ship with your crew, so you are a bit curious, when you find a bunch of dwarves hiding away in fish barrels.

Waves clashed against the ship, as the crew merrily sang a song they have made up during the travels on the sea. You have been on this ship with your crew for years. On the way, you have built yourself the reputation as one of the most fearless pirates known across the world. “Captain, there is a small boat crossing our path. What should we do?” You took your telescope from the leather holster on your hip. Looking through it, you saw a small boat filled with around 14 barrels travelling somewhat in your direction. “Let’s approach the ship slowly and see if it is worth the trouble.” “Aye aye Captain!” Your crew began to hoist the sails while you kept an eye out for the ship. As you got closer to the little boat, your crew threw a few lassos to pull the smaller ship towards your own.

“Kidd, take care of the ship while I have a little chit chat with the fisherman.” You said, walking towards the railing, taking a rope and swinging toward the other ship. A smirk formed on your lips, as you let your fingertips wander from one barrel to another. “So many barrels. What does a lonely man need so many barrels for?” You asked, tilting your head to the side. “I am just a mere fisherman, trying to go to Laketown. The barrels are filled to the brim with fish, I doubt a Captain like yourself would be in dire need of these.” The man tried to reason with you, making you rise an eyebrow. “What makes you think I wouldn’t be in need of fish? You see my dear friend,” A slight hint of mockery was visible in your voice, as you put a hand on the unknown man’s shoulder. “I am the captain of this very beautiful ship and if you haven’t already noticed, we are pirates.” You gave him a fake smile as you gently squeezed his shoulder. “And as pirates we really don’t work you know? We take what we want and we take it when we want to. But I feel quite generous. How about we take around hmm let’s see…”

You took a glance at each of the barrels. “We will take half of them.” You announced while removing your hand from his shoulder and winking some people from your crew down so they could carry them to your ship. As they started to lift the barrels, the top of each of them sprung open as the dwarves rushed out from between the fish. Your eyes widened in surprise, before pulling out your sword. “Well, this is interesting. Didn’t knew that fishermen nowadays also catch dwarves in the sea.” You said as your sword clashed against another one of the dwarves. “It also isn’t every day, that a pretty pirate lady tries to kidnap us.” The dwarf in front of you gave you a wink. A little laugh escaped your lips. Maybe you will actually have a little fun with them. “Do you normally flirt with people you fight with?” You ask him, pushing his sword away. Most of the dwarves’ weapons were laying on the wooden floor as their hands were up in the air. Pointing the tip of your sword at the one in front of you, he smiled at you while raising his hands up as well. “I only do with the ones that are extremely beautiful and take my breath away.” A soft blush dusted your cheeks as you smiled gently at him.

“Captain, what should we do with them?” “We will take them as our captives. Maybe they will share their stories with us.” The crew bound each dwarves’ wrists tightly, before heaving them on board. Turning around, you look at the man who tried to smuggle them into Laketown. “I’m not part of their company.” He said, raising his hands up. “Fair enough. Have a safe journey to Laketown.” Turning around, you grasped one of the ropes and ascended up onto your own ship. “You let him go Captain?” Kidd, your closest woman on the ship, asked you flabbergasted. “I thought you knew me by now? I normally don’t hold prisoners on the ship and he himself said he was not part of the company.” Kidd raised an eyebrow at your explanation. “But why did you take the dwarves captive?” The question made you ponder for a moment. You yourself weren’t entirely sure. Maybe it was your curiosity that made you tie them up and put them under the dock. “I guess I am just interested in their little life story and why they were trying to smuggle into Laketown.” You explained to her, as she led you to the cells, in which the dwarves were sitting in angrily.

“We tried to separate them as much as possible, however we only have so many cells.” She pointed at the four cells. Some of them were filled with three and some with four dwarves. And one Hobbit. A Hobbit? You tilted your head, as you approached the cell, where the hobbit sat on the small bed. “Why is a hobbit travelling with 13 dwarves?” You asked aloud. One of the dwarves in the cell walked towards you, grabbing the bar as he leaned as close as possible towards you. “It is none of your business.” He spat, as he gave you a glare. Tilting your head to the side you smiled at him. “Big words from a guy behind bars.” You mocked him. A few dwarves around you starting to protest at your rudeness towards their king. King? “Oh, so you are the king? Well then, I think we can arrange a little chit chat to discuss the price of your freedom.” A sweet smile formed on your lips, as you awaited an answer from him. Seconds passed and he didn’t say anything. “I will leave you for now. Think about my offer while I am gone.” You said, skipping up the small stairs to get back onto the main deck of the ship.

Hours passed and night arrived, hence you were travelling down to the prisoners’ quarters with bowls of food in your hands. You handed them out one by one, until you passed the last bowl. “Thank you, my stunning pirate princess.” Looking up from the food in your hand, you looked at the dwarf in front of you. The same one that flirted with you while fighting against you. The one that piqued your interest the most. “Well, isn’t it nice to see you again…” You trailed off, waiting for his name. “Kili.” “Kili. A cute name for a cute dwarf.” A chuckle left his lips, as he set the bowl aside. “Do you always flirt with the captives, you hold under your ship?” He asks, smirk gracing his lips. “Only with the ones that seem to really catch my attention.” You say, leaning on the wall beside the cell. He held onto the bars of his prison, trying to be closer to you.

His brown eyes glimmering in the soft candlelight. “Say, what makes you want to release us from this prison?” He asks, mirroring your stance in his small temporary room. “I wanted to discuss that with your king, however he really doesn’t want to cooperate with me.” A small fake pout formed on your lips. “Aren’t you a lucky girl? I happen to be his nephew. Prince Kili, at your service.” He bowed quickly, before straightening up again. You giggled at the gesture. “Well, prince Kili, my name is Captain (Y/N). It is wonderful to make your acquaintance.” Doing a curtsy, the both of you smiled at each other. You really begin to enjoy his company. “Captain (Y/N), I would like to know what you would like in order to receive our freedom back.” “It is very simple. All I want to know is about your journey and your destination. Why were you trying to smuggle into Laketown in fish barrels? What is the purpose of your visit? All these things.” You said, now also holding onto the bar of the cell. “Sit down Amrâlimé, it is quite the story.”

You listened intently at each word Kili muttered, as he told you the story of Thorin Oakenshield and his company. How they have encountered mountain Trolls, Orcs and Elves. And how they want to fight back against the dragon Smaug, who was living rent free in their home. “That indeed is quiet the story.” You say as you pulled yourself up with the help of the bars. Kili looked at you expectantly, almost as if he wanted to know if he managed to free the company. “We will arrive very close to Laketown tomorrow. Take one of the boats, maybe two, we have strung on the side of the ship. Find your little friend from earlier today and fight for your home.” You smiled softly at him, as he gave you a wide grin. Warmth spread through your body, as his hands covered yours. “Thank you so much Amrâlimé.”

As the next morning arrived, you opened up the cells as promised and gave the dwarves a few more rations of food, as well as other resources. You helped them onto the boats, until it was time to say good bye to Kili. “It was very nice to talk to you and listen to your story Kili. I really enjoyed it.” A smile graced your lips. Kili took your hands gently in his. “I will search for you as soon as we get our home back, I promise you.” He said, his eyes glimmering with hope and sincerity. You gasped softly at his confession, holding a little tighter onto his hands. “I hope so my prince.” Suddenly he put his hand on the back of you neck and pulled you down to him, connecting your lips. His stubble scratched against your cheek, as you tilted your head to the side to deepen the kiss. Your arms were wrapped around the back of his neck. The call of Kilis name made the both of you depart from each other. Stepping onto the last boat, the dwarves began to row into the direction of Laketown. You waved at their departure. “I will find you Amrâlimé, even if I have to travel across the whole sea for you.” Kili suddenly shouted. Who would have thought that a pirate captain would get so easily swooned over a dwarven prince?

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fandom-imagines-stories · 1 year

Text

Nothing In This Life

Kili Durin x Reader

Words: 5245

Summary: With his betrothed in battle beside him, the two seem an unstoppable force. However, one fatal moment may prove to be the end.

Notes: I’m kind of making up a little backstory for Kili where he and Fili work as mercenaries, helping smaller towns fight of orcs. Also, I know his last name isn’t technically Durin, but it makes it easier for my brain to categorize his imagines. This was mainly just because I wanted to write the scene from Desolation of Smaug, but reverse the roles. I didn’t make it the same poison though for the sake of my narrative. You know I’m a sucker for angst and peril. Also, I did my best to find stuff to make it accurate, but like I said, I just worked with how I wanted my narrative to go.

Warnings: Violence, peril, angst

More Imagines: HERE

The clash of metal challenged the pounding of your heart in your ears. Adrenaline pumped through your veins, its familiar power fueling your quick steps and even quicker swings with your sword.

Your foul enemy scattered around the opening in the trees where the battle waged. You turned your head, finding your partners in this mission only yards away, occupied by a dozen orcs closing in on them. Making quick work of your current sparring partner, you lept across branches and bodies to join them.

“Having fun without me, boys?” You snarked.

“You seemed to be enjoying yourself well enough,” Fili smiled, showing no toll of the fight in his excited eyes.

“With those fools?” You scoffed. “Child’s play.”

The circle of orcs snarled and snapped their disgusting teeth at you. They stepped closer, pushing the three of you together. An arm brushed against yours. When you turned again, the dark, loving eyes of the man you were to marry sparkled at the sight of yours.

Kili smirked. “Ready?”

“Aren’t I always?”

His lips spread into a smile and he kneeled before you, lacing his fingers together to give you a foothold. With a final, confident glance between you, Kili launched you into the air, over the horde of enemies heading your way. You cleanly cut one’s head from his shoulder before even reaching the ground.

The brothers fought on their side while you took on your own set of orcs now switching their attention to you.

Foe after foe they fell to your expert swordsmanship and surprising stamina. Kili and Fili fared just as well, cutting down or shooting over half of the lot in minutes. You raised your arm for another fatal blow, but a pair of arms locked around you with crushing force. The sharp end of a battle axe sliced the front of your leather armor while the pressure of your captor’s grip made your ribs crack inside your chest.

You flung your head back, the crunch of the orc’s nasal cavity ringing through your head with the ripples of pain that spread from the impact. It released you and you stumbled forward.

“Kili, dear!” you exclaimed breathlessly. You slashed again at one of your opponents, the second of the pair starting to box you in. “Your assistance, please!”

The stretch of a bowstring was music to your ears.

“With pleasure, darling,” the dwarven prince growled.

The arrow flew through the air, striking one of your attackers between the eyes. You finished off the second with a slice to the throat.

Fili plunged his sword into the remaining orc’s chest and slid it out in one clean motion. You found a tree to lean against while you caught your breath, each inhale making your ribs ache. From what you could tell, one or two seemed cracked, but none felt broken. Kili was at your side in seconds.

“Are you hurt, my love.”

You smiled, the worry in his eyes warming your heart, and wiped a smear of blood off of his cheek with your thumb. “Nothing I cannot walk off, dear.”

A mischievous grin replaced his concern and he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer until you were pressed to his chest. The motion may have hurt at first, but his lips on yours quickly remedied any aching.

“At least wait until we get back to the tavern, brother,” Fili groaned, rolling his eyes.

“Aw, poor Fili,” you teased, pulling away from your betrothed and putting a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “We’ll find a woman for you yet.”

Fili ignored your mocking tone and playfully punched your shoulder, earning an involuntary grimace.

“I’m afraid my brother’s humor has rubbed off on you, Y/N. It’s unbecoming,” he laughed.

“It’s a good thing the two of you don’t keep me around for my ladylike sensibilities then,” you fired back with a snicker.

You helped collect any intact arrows from the orcs that littered the glade and returned them to Kili’s quiver. Surveying your victory, you took his hand.

“Another village protected,” you said. “People may sleep peacefully again thanks to us.”

His eyes darkened and looked to the trees. “For now.”

You followed his gaze and felt the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Goose pimples dotted your arms beneath your armor. You shuddered. Though you couldn’t see it, something seemed to lurk just beyond the touch of the light. Perhaps it wasn’t there now, but, like Kili, you could feel it coming. The orcs were getting bolder and you feared your interference wasn’t making any difference.

Kili looked to you again and the light returned to his expression. “I think we’ve earned ourselves some ale, don’t you?”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Fili cheered, smacking his brother’s back.

You forgot your worries and smiled at them, locking your arms with both. The Princes of Durin had been the only family you’d ever known. And, despite their mother’s objections, together, the three of you had gone into the mercenary business- at least until their uncle and rightful king Thorin called them away to take back their homeland in Erebor. You’d always thought it a far-off dream, but both men were convinced the day would come when they would battle the dragon and return to the Lonely Mountain. Of course, when Kili asked you for your hand in marriage, you adopted this mission as your own and the three of you had been together ever since.

The village rejoiced to see you step out of the woods, praising your trio for your bravery and skill. They came forward with pouches of gold. Everything they had.

“We can’t rob them of their livelihood,” you whispered to your partners.

“It’s not robbing them if it's offered,” Fili muttered, earning an elbow to the side from his brother.

“Y/N is right,” Kili said. A touch of pink reached his cheeks under the gaze of your proud smile. He turned to the villagers. “Please, we do not wish for reward or riches. Seeing those vermin exterminated is enough for us.”

Fili opened his mouth to argue. He clamped it shut again when your stare turned deadly. He glared at you and pouted, but said nothing.

“You must let us repay you,” the village leader pleaded. “We wouldn’t have survived the night if not for you.”

Fili stepped forward. “Well if you insist-”

You slammed an arm to his chest and pushed him behind you. “All we request is refreshment and somewhere to spend the night.” Fili huffed behind you. You hit him again to silence him. “If you would be so kind.”

“That can surely be arranged,” the man beamed. He guided you towards the center of town, where people had already begun to gather with baskets of fruits and joyful instruments. “Come, allow us to at least hold a celebration in your honor.”

Kili gave you a sideways glance and you couldn’t help but laugh as his usual impish grin spread across his face.

“That, I believe, we can accept,” he said.

The music swelled and your love took your hand, pulling you into the dance. Your feet matched the quick shuffle of the crowd. Kili grabbed one arm and you took the arm of the person next to you, picking up the steps with ease. A circle went around the musicians, swaying one way and taking a jumping step the other. Boisterous laughter enveloped you from the people you saved. It reminded you of why you were here. To keep places like this alive. The hearts of Middle Earth lived in the smiles of the people around you.

While your gaze followed the circle around you, Kili’s remained solely on your beaming face. Any ache from the battle was banished from his chest, replaced by the warmth of adoration. The way you lit up like a star in the twilight when you let yourself be happy- even if it was only for a moment.

Of the three of you, you were the one that seemed to feel the perils of these people the keenest. Every burned cottage, every grave, and every lost soul you came across settled into your heart. He could see it in your eyes the same way he could see the relief there now. When your gaze finally found his again, the glittering joy in your irises overtook him.

A laugh sang from your lips as Kili twirled you into his arms. The two of you stepped out of the group, creating your own dance, closer and locked in each other's arms. Facing each other, your eyes never left his and the rest of the world muted into a muffled celebration.

And, in that moment, you wanted to marry him.

You didn’t want to take another breath, speak another word, or win another fight unless you could be his wife.

But you knew what his answer would be. Kili wanted a home, a place you could call your own, together, before you were to be wed. Having spent his whole life wandering, he wanted a place to belong before you fully belonged to each other.

Each day that dream seemed further away and each day you feared how long you’d still have to become one.

“Something troubles you, my love?” Kili halted his feet and lifted a hand to your cheek.

You smiled and opened your mouth to answer.

A movement stopped you. A reflection in the firelight between the trees.

An arrow just over Kili’s shoulder, aimed for his heart.

The word left your lips like a breath. “No.”

Suddenly, you were moving before you knew what you were doing. You put an arm on Kili’s chest and pushed him aside. You placed yourself between him and the shadowed archer just as the arrow left its riser.

In the dark, you could just see the orc’s crimson eyes. Its hateful stare pierced your skull the moment its arrow pierced the soft skin beneath your collarbone and beside your shoulder.

You processed your beloved’s horrified roar before you processed your pain.

The impact forced your feet back and you found yourself falling. Your body prepared to hit the ground, finding arms waiting instead. People rushed around you, yet they seemed to move in slow motion past you. They blurred together, a frenzied mass that made your head spin.

The only focus point you had was the panicked face of Kili hovering above you.

“Fili!” He called out.

“You must go. If there are more of them, they must be stopped. Leave me,” you croaked. “Help the people.”

“I will tend to you first.” He pulled you more into his arms, kneeling down so you didn’t have to stand. “Fili!” He yelled again.

A flash of blonde hurried past you.

“He won’t get away, brother!” The older prince shouted back, sword drawn and ready. The glint of his weapon disappeared into the dark forest.

The moment of chaos sharpened abruptly as the adrenaline hit. You shot up despite the arrow sticking out of your flesh. Your other hand reached for the shaft and tore it away. You clamped your lips closed to muffle the pained cry in your throat.

“What are you doing?” Kili tried to force you back down, applying pressure to your now gushing wound.

“If there are more, these people aren’t prepared to fight,” you gasped through the searing pain. “And Fili cannot do it alone.”

“You are in no state for battle.”

“I’m fine,” you snapped. “Let me go.”

His grip loosened enough for you to slip away, stumbling after the others into the woods. Kili’s objecting shouts were soon overtaken by the night air whirling by your ears. Villagers ran beside you with farming tools for weapons. You reached for the short sword on your hip. Your limbs screamed in protest. The rush in your blood urged you on, though clouded your perception. Before you realized it, you were no longer part of the harried mob.

You stood alone in the trees, any sounds of the pursuit distant and quiet.

A new wave of pain crashed over you, rippling out from your shoulder. It was almost blinding. You’d been struck with blades and arrowheads before, but you’d never experienced pain like this. Something was wrong.

“K-Kili!” You stammered. Your voice came out as a croaking sob. The forest offered no response. Tears stung the corners of your eyes, accompanied by dark spots across your vision. “Fili!” You lifted your eyes to use the stars to guide you back, but they spun around you like fireflies.

“Y/N!” The voice came to you from all directions. You jerked your head around, trying to place it.

“Kili.” His name hardly even came out as a breath now. You turned again, this time catching your foot on a branch and landing on your shoulder in the damp leaves. The scream that ripped from your lungs was almost inhuman.

And it was the last thing you heard before your body did the one thing it could to protect you from the insanity-inducing pain.

You slept.

The arrow might as well have pierced his heart, for it couldn’t tell the difference between the fatal blow and how he felt, carrying your trembling, unconscious form in his arms.

“Someone help me!” He cried. A terror he’d never felt before coated his every word as he pleaded with passing villagers, all running to safety for fear of another attack.

“Kili?” You stirred weakly, looking at him through your lashes. Your breathing strained, painful with every inhale. He shifted you in his arms. You didn’t have enough energy to scream anymore, so your cry was merely a whimpering gasp.

“I know, love. I’m sorry, I know it hurts,” he said, heart breaking with every muted wail from your lips. “I’m going to find someone to help you.”

“I don’t…” Your words trailed off as you struggled to stay away. “I don’t understand. It was… it was just an a-arrow.”

Kili grimaced.

He should have seen it. He’s an archer, for fate’s sake. He should have seen the mark of a poisoned arrow the minute you tore it from your shoulder.

And it was meant for him.

Kili spotted the man he’d met earlier in the week, Hallam, who said he had medicinal knowledge. Seeing you in the dwarf’s arms, Hallam hurried over.

“Please,” Kili begged. “You have to help her.” His words caught in his throat. “It’s poison.”

Hallam glanced at the already festering wound and nodded with a grim frown. “Follow me.”

“What about the orc?” You wheezed, trying to turn your head back to the forest.

Hallam led Kili into his cottage and cleared off the long dining table for him to lay you on. Kili set you down as gently as he could.

“We have to fight,” you said. When you tried to sit up, Kili held you down by your unmarred shoulder.

“Fili knows what he’s doing. I’m sure everything will be fine.” He glimpsed at your wound. Your blood had turned thick and almost black. He looked away. “Everything will be fine, darling. Just please lie still.”

He hushed your objections and tucked your hair behind your ear. “All will be alright, my love.” He said it again and again as if they weren’t mere words of reassurance but a plea to the stars.

“Do you have the arrow?” Hallam asked. He set out a roll of herbs and tools on the bench beside you. Kili’s face fell even more. Hallam waved a hand at the prince. “Go. Find it. Hopefully, it can give me some answers that will help.” In the growing haze in your mind, you noted that the man sounded far from optimistic.

Kili swallowed hard and stood. You reached for his hand, the motion sending more blinding shocks up your arm.

“Don’t…” You choke out. “Leave.” Your fingers grip his hand with as much energy as you could muster.

For him, it was barely more than a touch.

Hallam’s dire stare watched your darkening wound. You could feel his harrowing dejection practically burrow into you. It fueled your fearful tone.

“I want you here-” You said softly. “I need you here if I should-”

Kili stopped you before you could finish. “That isn’t going to happen.” He knelt, bringing your hand to his lips without having to move your festering arm. “I will return shortly, love.”

He stood and rushed back outside where people were returning from the forest.

Hallam stood over you, peeling back the tear in your tunic to get a better look at your injury. You ignored the sting and turned your head to look at him, catching a glimpse of the culprit of your pain. A river of black and crimson seeped down the fabric of your sleeve. The gaping hole in your flesh revealed a sliver of what you could only assume to be your collarbone. Worst of all, purplish veins bulged under the blood smears, stretching more and more across your chest.

“Tell me,” you pleaded. “Am I going to die?”

Hallam finally lifted his eyes from the gore and looked into yours. He muttered something under his breath, a prayer, maybe. “Not if I can help it.”

Kili was guided back to Hallam’s cottage by the sound of your screams. With the trampled projectile in hand, his feet carried him as fast as he could move, blurring by the celebrating villagers.

Turns out, the orc that shot you was a lone survivor of the group they’d defeated. One man triumphantly strode down the path with the creature’s head in hand. The threat was gone.

And yet your wails of anguish rang over the cheering crowd.

He kept running. Somewhere from the fray, his brother emerged. Usually, Fili’s presence was enough to dispel his younger brother’s worries, but Kili’s frantic gaze merely turned to him with terrified urgency.

Fili surveyed the congested courtyard that lay between them and you. Kili’s desperate dodging was only getting him so far and your cries were growing louder.

The blonde dwarf climbed on top of a stationed cart and cupped his hands to his lips.

“Everybody out of the way!” He boomed.

Sure enough, the eyes of the grateful villagers turned to him, as well as his brother’s. Fili gave him a nod. Enough of the crowd stepped out of Kili’s path that he could break through and Fili quickly followed.

With the celebratory noise silenced, all anyone could hear was the wrenching cries coming from within the house.

“I’ve got it.” Kili burst through the door and thrust the arrowhead at Hallam, who was doing his best to hold you down and apply pressure to stop some of your bleeding.

Every time something touched your shoulder or arm, however, it felt as though white-hot claws were digging into your skin, so your body couldn’t help but try and fight him off of you. Your eyes were so blinded by tears, you didn’t see the dwarven princes enter. It was Kili’s voice that was able to soothe your racing mind.

“I’m here now,” he said.

“You,” Hallam barked at Fili. “Apply pressure while I try and figure out what’s doing this.” When he removed his hand, you almost breathed a sigh of relief, but Fili’s replaced it, making you cry out all over again.

Kili laid a hand on your cheek. “I know, darling. I know it hurts. I’m sorry.”

He silenced the sob caught in his throat. What you needed now was strength. His weakness would do nothing to save you.

“Oromȅ help us,” Hallam muttered, standing over the broken arrow, his face turned ghostly pale.

“What is it?” Fili hollered over your thrashing. “Can you save her?”

Hallam’s eyes gave him his answer.

Kili leapt across the bench and took the man by the collar. “You have to do something,” he growled, tears threatening to spill over.

Hallam put his hands on top of the dwarves and urged them away from him. He thought for a moment.

“There may be something, but we must work quickly, and I’m afraid it’s going to be very unpleasant for her.”

Kili looked at you. Clenching your jaw shut to try and stop your cries, you nodded. He faced Hallam.

“Do it.”

The healer threw open his cabinets and grasped a handful of what looked like dried flower bulbs. He crushed them up with a mortar and then, with a dark look, he set them alight. The bits crackled and burst with the flame. He hovered the bowl over your injury.

Kili grabbed his wrist. “Are you mad?” He stared at the reddish-pink fire, making his eyes water even more.

“It may be our only hope,” Hallam said. He put on a thick leather glove and shifted his gaze between the two brothers. “I’ll need you to hold her down. This is going to hurt.”

Kili’s wide eyes found his brother’s. Fili tightened his grip on your arm and moved a hand to your knee. He gave Kili a look that asked if they had any other choice.

You watched them through half-closed eyes, almost hoping your body would render you unconscious once again if only to stop you from feeling this pain. But if these were the last moments you had with your beloved… you didn’t want to waste them.

Kili put an arm across your chest and leaned down, pressing a kiss to your burning forehead.

Hallam poured the fiery mixture and the smell of burning flesh and sizzling blood flooded Kili’s senses.

Your screams before were whispers compared to the sounds that shook your chest. Hallam smashed his hand against your wound, ensuring that the herbs stayed put while you thrashed and fought against the two dwarves holding you down.

“Kili, make it stop!” You shrieked. Any thought of being healed was lost to your blinded mind. All you wanted was for it to end. “Kili, please!”

“Steady,” Hallam instructed. He began to wrap the still-smoking wound, sealing everything into your skin.

Kili held himself against you, his head against your chest. His tears fell to your tunic and he screwed his eyes shut, listening to the rapid beating of your heart.

“There,” Hallam gasped breathlessly. Your seizing slowed until you were still.

“Is that it?” Fili asked. “Is she healed?”

Kili did not lift his head. He stayed there as your heart began to slow to a normal pace. When he opened his eyes, Hallam couldn't face them.

“If the poison has failed to reach her heart, she will live.”

Fili glanced down at you and then back to the healer. “And if it has?”

Hallam removed his glove and set it aside, along with the smoldering bowl. “Then there is nothing any of us can do.”

Kili sat up but kept his arm across your torso. Your chest rose and fell with great effort. With his other hand, he rubbed soothing circles against your palm.

“How are we to know?” He asked.

Hallam sighed and finally turned around. “If she makes it through the night.” He left to allow them to say their possible goodbyes and said to fetch him if there was any change in her condition.

And so the room fell into silence, with only the sound of the crackling fire and your strained breaths. Outside, the celebration continued as if nothing had happened.

“You should go,” you uttered weakly. “Both of you. We were never a crew to turn down a party.” You managed a laugh and squeezed Kili’s hand. “We won.”

“There is still a battle that must be fought, my love.” He brought your hand to his lips.

Your smile saddened. “No,” you swallowed. “I don’t believe there is.” You forced your head to turn so you could look upon the man you could have called brother. “Fili, could you give us a moment?”

He knelt on the bench beside you, his hand still on your arm.

“Only if you promise to still be here when I come back,” he said.

“I will try.”

Fili gave his brother a nod of reassurance and you a kiss on the forehead. He joined Hallam in the other room.

The silence returned as you mustered the courage to say what you needed.

“Kili-”

“There is always still a fight. You heard what Hallam said. All isn’t lost, my light.” The crack in his hopeful voice was enough to break your already weakened heart.

You spoke again, but firmer so he would have to listen. “Kili, listen to me. I need you to promise me something.” With all of your strength, you tried to sit up.

Kili climbed onto the table to pull you into his lap. His arms held you close to his chest. If this was to be your final rest, you were glad it was locked in his embrace.

“Anything.”

“Promise me you’ll find it,” you cried. “All your life you have been searching to belong. Searching for a home. Promise me that you and Fili will find it.”

Kili, unable to contain his grief, buried his face in your neck, kissing your skin with his sobs. You ran your fingers through his hair and glanced out at the stars.

“I always pictured it,” you mused. “Our home.”

You could see it now as you told him of it.

“There would be shelves upon shelves full of stories from our adventures. And a spare room for when Fili came to stay,” you laughed. In your mind, Kili’s smile on the face of a little girl and a boy with your eyes sent pangs through your heart. You held him closer. “And targets in the yard where you could teach archery to the children.”

He pulled away, his tearful eyes gazing deeply into yours.

Kili knew, now more than ever, that the only place he would ever really belong was by your side.

“Let us be married,” he said.

You laughed and it became a cough. “I’m afraid flattery will not slow the inevitable, dear.”

“It is not jest. I mean it.” Kili reached under his collar and pulled a chain from around his neck. Around it hung two rings, both of glistening silver. One band bore Kili’s crest and the other was crowned with a clear, white gem that sparkled like starlight. “I have been a fool to wait until now, but, if you will have me, I don’t want to put off another moment.”

You wanted to object. You couldn’t bind the man you loved to a phantom. He deserved more than that. But the hope in his eyes and the smile playing on his lips stopped you. If you were to leave this world, you wanted to do so as his wife.

You lifted your hand to his cheek. “I want nothing more than to marry you.”

The despair in his heart was pushed aside by a bright excitement and he called in Hallam and his brother.

“What is it, what happened?”

Kili looked to the other man. “You’re this village’s holy man, as well, correct?”

Hallam frowned. “I can perform the last rites ceremony, if that is what you wish.”

“No, it isn’t that.” Kili shifted so you were fully in his arms and could lean against him for strength. “Will you marry us?”

“Now?” Fili exclaimed.

You gave him a weak smile. “Now may be the only time.”

“Of course,” Hallam said, bustling around to find the correct texts.

It wasn’t as you imagined, of course, but as Hallam read the words, the rest of the world fell away. All that was left was you, the man you loved, and the rings.

Fili even seemed to tear up from his place by the fire.

You slipped the ring onto Kili’s finger, reveling in the spark of his touch. It alone gave you the energy to stay awake.

He took your hand in his and put on the ring, pressing your hand against his chest to feel his heartbeat.

“With my brother as witness, let us not waste another moment,” he cried. “Let this binding of our souls mean that we can never be parted.” Kili kissed your lips as if for the last time. “You are my wife. And nothing in this life will ever take me from you. Not even the end of it.”

“It is done,” Hallam sighed with a small, bittersweet smile. He could only hope you would live long enough for it to matter.

“Kili,” you gasped, your grip tightening on his tunic as another shock of pain rushed through you. He held you tighter.

“Amrâlimê,” he whispered. “Stay with me. Please.”

You spoke with panting, agonized breaths. “At least I may sleep… home in your arms.” You lifted yourself to kiss him one more time. “For you were the only home I ever needed.”

“Do not part from me, I beg you,” his words choked on sobs. “I love you.”

“And I you.”

You closed your eyes.

Kili collapsed against you, pulling you so tightly to his chest that Fili could not tell where he ended and you began. His cries filled the cottage- shaking screams of anguish that quaked through his whole being.

And the stars, in their cruelness, shined on.

Three Weeks Later

The sword clashed against his vambrace. The impact vibrated down his arm and sent him reeling. The man swung again and Kili barely blocked it with his own weapon.

This was not going well.

The band of thieves had at first seemed easy enough to defeat, but with the final three and strongest men left, things were looking bleak for the dwarf princes.

Kili fell back, his foot catching on a fallen branch. The man sneered and raised a death blow.

A flash of silver and a garbled gasp sent blood spattering across Kili’s face. The man’s hand went to his throat, where a dagger now resided. The thief fell with a sick thud.

Kili turned to his rescuer.

You held out your hand.

“That’s four for me and,” you tapped your chin with a smirk, “only two for you. Foiled again, ay darling?”

Kili took your hand and pulled you down to him. Laughing, you tumbled onto his chest. Any aches from your shoulder had long since faded, the miracle of Hallam’s healing having done its job.

His lips collided with yours with fervor.

“Ah, well I’m glad you two turned up fine while I caught the rest of them,” Fili huffed, appearing from the brush with an annoyed frown. He jutted a thumb to two tied-up thieves that would face the laws of the city they’d stolen from.

The two of you carried on just as he found you.

“Right.” He rolled his eyes. “I’ll take care of it myself.”

When you did finally pull away, you snickered at Fili’s annoyance and Kili wrapped his arms around you, locking you pressed to his chest. You looked into his eyes and saw everything you’d ever dreamed of. He looked into yours and saw everything he’d almost lost. The darkness of the memory overtook him, but only for a moment. You kissed the tip of his nose and his smile returned.

“My husband,” you mused with a playful grin.

He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear and kept his hand on your cheek. His gaze held enough love to reach the stars.

“My home.”

#kili durin #kili the hobbit #aidan turner #kili durin x reader #kili x reader #the hobbit imagines #lotr #the hobbit #aidan turner imagines #fantasy #angst

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abbygirly · 1 year

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I believe I found a good space for my writing here. I love to write and I need motivation, so if you guys like it, leave a comment to let me know! It'll help me a lot!

Abby

#writing #i love writing #my fantasies #jim hopper x reader #chief hopper #loki #sherlock x reader #aidan turner #benedict cumberbatch #tom hiddleston

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bookworm-with-coffee · 10 months

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Dancing With Death. . .

(John Mitchell x Reader)

(A/N); Hello-Ello! Welcome to my first Being Human fic! I've watched the first few seasons of this show and I'm delighted to continue watching the third. I love Mitchell's dynamic and character arc, Aidan absolutely smashing the role (as always). Do enjoy!! ❤❤

Plot; When a human is invited to live with the gang, things get rather complicated for one John Mitchell...

Pairings; John Mitchell x Reader (Romantic)

Warnings; mature themes, violence, blood, coarse language, angst, eventual tooth-rotting fluff

__________________________________________

When you'd first laid eyes upon death, you thought he was human. You'd hardly expected the gentle kindness in his eyes, but maybe that's something you would come to love about him?

"I'm sorry, you've gone and done what? ", Mitchell gaped.

"Look, before this gets out of hand—", Annie tried.

"It did get out of hand! When you went and did that! ", George shouted, quickly falling to a panic. Every part of him wanted to break down and rip out his hair all at once. "Bringing a human here?? I thought the neighbours were bad, but oh no, you just had to go that one step further and invite one to live with us!! Gods, Annie, do you even think??".

Guilt churned within the ghost's gaze, her eyes drifting to Mitchell. "This house was for us, Annie", he sighed. "A safe haven where we can be ourselves! A human would take that from us!".

"Please", she begged their calm. "I've thought about this!! Rent is going up with the coming of the new lease, making it harder on both of you. Don't try to deny it". Annie raised a finger in warning. "And maybe some part of me wants a bit of human normality around here?".

"Yes, but in case you haven't noticed, a vampire, ghost and werewolf aren't exactly a part of any human normality!", George hissed. "Is nothing sacred? Nothing at all??".

"Absolutely not", Mitchell huffed. "A human living here is out of the question".

"I'm sorry you think that", Annie sighed, beginning to retreat from the room. "Because she's coming tomorrow morning to inspect the spare room". The boys went slack-jawed,

"WHAT?!".

That's how a very normal you came to meet the not-so-normal threesome of Windsor Terrace.

When you'd first stepped foot into the house, you weren't expecting the merry greeting you recieved from Annie. She made the house seem like a home. You'd instantly taken a liking to this boisterous and kind soul when she'd made you tea and toured you around the home. Her flatmates were cautious of you, but friendly nonetheless. They took a fascination in your studies and work, somewhat thrilled to have someone else sharing the rent with them to combat the pesky costs. From the morning you'd spent with the three flatmates, you finally felt you found where you'd belonged and didn't hesitate to sign up for their little condo.

The rest was history, Mitchell and George quickly warming to the idea of having you around. Of course, keeping their secrets had never been more imperative than it was with you living in the house. But, there were ways around it.

You'd spend two to five days of your week studying and at work. Mitchell and George also worked regularly, meaning that the evenings and their few days off were the only times they saw you. On those days off, they'd sometimes opt to go out, as you liked to clean the house anyway.

However, you couldn't ignore the strangeness these flatmates had about them in their mundane lives.

Annie loved your company when you helped around the house, the both of you quickly growing close. But one day, she'd completely disappeared. When you'd ask them, the lads would tell you that sometimes Annie leaves randomly to run errands or work. Unbeknownst to yourself, she'd still be around and seen by the lads. Even when you couldn't see or hear her, she was comforted by your presence whilst you'd dance with loud music and clean. It was a comfort to see some human normality in the house.

On the days she wasn't restricted from your sight, you'd come to notice that Annie never ate. Strangely, she reasoned that she preferred to eat alone and you'd left it at that. Out of not wanting to be rude, you never mentioned her cold hands or embrace. She was so cold to the touch. But, maybe that was just her?? Mitchell was the same, after all.

The raven haired male was almost completely cold to the touch, as if he lacked all warmth. You'd asked playfully one day, recieving, 'Reynaud's Syndrome' as the answer. He claimed it was a disease passed to him by his family. When leaving the house even on warmer days, Mitchell always covered himself in many layers. He always wore sunglasses, even on cloudier days. When you'd brought it up, 'photosensitivity', was the answer. You'd started to become concerned that Mitchell suffered from everything, yet he seemed perfectly fine..

George seemed to be the most normal out of them. Warm to the touch, cautious of others, but polite and kind. He was dating a colleague of his, Nina, who sometimes passed by the house. The two often bounced off of each other, often undecided on where they stood with their relationship. You'd prayed they'd get it together. However, the brunette would take a once-monthly camping trip in the woods to apparently honour the tradition his grandfather had started with him. He'd come back dirty and battered after one night, but not even you had dared to ask your flatmates what he'd be doing. You offered to tag along once, George desperately insisting that it was the only 'alone time' he'd get. You never offered again.

All three flatmates knew they'd fooled you into thinking that this house was normal, but for how long??

Things were growing more complex in the world of the supernatural and you were the only one in the house that couldn't see it. You only saw the rippled reverberations in the water, the conflict and sadness in Mitchell's hazel eyes when he looked upon you.

You'd started to grow close with him as well, sharing in his love for history when he'd spotted you with a book. The conversations and playful debates quickly began, allowing you both to bond even beyond the topics of history. Mitchell was a genius when it came to modern history, as if he'd seen it with his own two eyes. His gaze seemed so old for such a young face and it fascinated you to no end. He struck you as an old soul, especially when he'd started showing you his favourite music and movies as well. All were from the 50's and 60's.

Despite how he'd never truly opened up to you about himself, you felt safe with Mitchell. You didn't care that he was secretive or photosensitive. You truly enjoyed everything his company had to offer. Warm coffee, wicked humour and lazy days binging old movies on the TV, even the occasional walk in the rain. He reeked of comfort, despite being a complete enigma. Yet, for someone so happy and surrounded by company, Mitchell seemed so lonely. And maybe that's what drew you closer to him?

To his own detriment, you were all the vampire could talk about to Annie and George. He was slowly becoming aware of his attraction to you and it was a dangerous game to start playing.

"Just tell (Y/n) how you feel!", George proposed amidst chewing his sandwich. "Things might work out?".

"No problem! It's already hard enough for me as it is to sit by her without tearing out her throat, so I'm sure this'll work out fine!", the Irishman retorted sarcastically with his signature glower. George stiffened.

"Is it really that difficult for you?", Annie's voice was a soft whisper, brows knitted together in concern. Mitchell's hazel hues darted up at the ghost, remorse clouded within them. That was all the answer they both needed.

Animalistic desires often raged through his mind when you sat so dangerously close. He was able to smell the sweet heat of your skin, feel the hot blood rushing beneath it and hear the steady beats of your heart. The predatory side of Mitchell was always devious. Combined with other wants, being near you had become almost intoxicating.

"You deserve to be happy, Mitchell", the werewolf sighed. "You owe it to yourself to at least try?".

"Look, I'm not like you, alright?", he grumbled. "I'm not a monster for one day of the month, I live with this every day. I am a monster 24/7, George. You and I are not the same". Annie pursed her lips, laying her cool hand on Mitchell's shoulder as a form of sympathy. "If (Y/n) and I were—", he started. "And she got hurt or died, I'd never forgive myself. Lauren was proof that I'm not good for her, that I can't be trusted". Tears burned in his gaze. "She deserves someone so much better than me".

"What if she knew?", Annie asked nonchalantly with a shrug. "Would that make it easier??". Mitchell's head shook,

"No, no and no". Heaving a sigh, he slumped in his chair. "She deserves to live a normal life. Unburdened with the knowledge of—", he gestured to himself. "This!".

"Doesn't help that Herrick is trying to stir trouble", George added.

"Don't even start with that", Mitchell dismissed it quickly with a bitter laugh, his brows suddenly furrowing. "Speaking of her, where is (Y/n)?". Hazel orbs danced expectantly between his two flatmates, the werewolf's gaze falling to his wristwatch,

"She texted me earlier. Said that her classes were extended by an hour. I'm sure she's on her way". A chill almost seemed to pass through Mitchell. Something wasn't right. It was nearing 7:00pm, you finished at 6:00pm.

"Where does she take classes??".

"Few blocks down from the hospital? Around central Bristol?", George shrugged. Concern etched its way onto Mitchell's expression, adrenaline coursing through his blood. He shot up from the table, marching over to the door.

"Mitchell!", Annie called to him incredulously. "Where do you think you're off to??".

"I'm going to look for her. It shouldn't take this long".

"Mitchell—".

"Text me if you hear from her or if she comes home!", he called from over his shoulder, pointing at his flatmates before the door closed behind him. Mitchell's senses were buzzing, always more efficient at night. Your scent wouldn't be hard to track if he picked it up.

Bristol was such a peaceful city. Coming away from the bright lights and active streets, you found comfort in the sudden ability to see the stars shimmering above without the interference of the street lamps. The air was cool and crisp, fogging as it left your mouth and nostrils. What usually would've been a peaceful walk home suddenly turned into something entirely different. Pained cries rang out from between a few of the buildings ahead, stilling your breaths. "Help— help me!". You were still quite a way from home or the hospital. Your pace quickened, spying a body between the buildings.

"Hey, I'm here, I'm—". Your heart felt as if it had stopped, feeling a wild wave of nausea vaulting into your throat. The air smelt wet with a stench, blood coating the floor around and on the body. More particularly the neck area. This man had already been dead for some time. If he didn't shout, who did??

"Help me!", a man cried with the same voice you'd heard. "Help me!". Although now, he'd emerged from the darkness. The stranger was perfectly unscathed, his eyes almost predatory as they were set on you. "Honestly, do you lot ever not fall for that one??". A dark chuckle slipped from his lips. Your heartrate quickened, your cooler hands suddenly becoming clammy. "And just like that, it was just all too easy", he mused, nearing you. Your steps backtracked, every instinct you had telling you to flee. You turned, trying to sprint; only to run into another male with the same ravening gaze. He shoved you roughly, your back slamming the wall nearest to you before you fell to the floor by the corpse. A shout escaped your throat, whilst you tried to scramble from it, slipping in the blood only to have the first male grab you by the scruff of your neck. He had a bruising grip that made you cry out. You grunted, clawing at his hand, barely even scraping the skin to your own confusion. "Oh, how I love it when they fight", he giggled through his teeth cruelly. A low growl left your throat, in your attempt to free yourself from his grip.

"They think they actually have a chance", the other laughed. Your foot darted out, kicking your captor's shin. Out of surprise, his grip loosened for that split moment, allowing you to slip from him. The harsh hold he'd had on you left your neck sore, your feet beginning to sprint to the other end of the building. You wasted no time crying or screaming, your heart becoming hopeful at seeing the dim streetlights ahead.

A painful grip suddenly wrenched your arm, swinging you into the wall to your left. Your head was the first to smack the wall, the hit completely disorienting you. Wetness travelled down from your temple, the feeling barely able to register before the iron grip resumed on your jaw and throat. With inhuman strength, you were lifted by one hand and slammed into the wall. Your feet didn't touch the ground, suddenly a few feet from it. In your fight for oxygen, you kicked desperately and held onto the hand that clamped down on you. You spied the first stranger's face beneath you, his tongue clicking in a form of tutting. "That wasn't very nice, Love", he chided, squeezing on your neck, a wheeze barely able to escape. Your head ached, the lump on your face stinging as it secreted more blood. You felt a dizzying pressure building up within you, your lungs growing tighter. "Now look what you've gone and done". His grip seemed effortless, reaching up with his free hand to swipe a finger at your blood before sticking it in his mouth. "So sweet", he hummed to his silent counterpart. 'You sick bastard!', you wanted to roar, barely able to continue struggling. "I enjoyed our little game, Lovely. But, I can't control myself any longer". You whimpered, trying to kick from his grip.

"Finally", the other grinned. Fear pulsated in every ember of your body, your lungs barely able to manage a gasp at what you'd seen next. Whether it was your blood loss, your head having been hit or the lack of oxygen; you didn't know. The strangers' eyes turned to a midnight black, their smiles no longer human. They had the teeth of a carnivorous animal, sharp and glinting in the dim light nearby. You couldn't shout, you couldn't run. It was over.

"Oi!", a yell broke the silence of the alleyway, the grip around your neck loosening to the point where you could rasp,

"RUN—". The squeeze suddenly resumed, your eyes closing.

"Put her down!". You knew that voice, you knew that face. Mitchell. Fear leapt into your throat, your feet kicking desperately, trying to get your dear friend to flee. The raven haired male was completely unintimidated by the two sets of eyes and teeth bared to him.

"Ah, Mitchell", the stranger smiled tauntingly, fully familiar with your flatmate to your greater confusion. "We were about to have dessert. Care to join?". Disgusted with the two males, he stared them down with a glare that could've put fear into your own heart, his face inches from theirs. After only a few moments, they relented, throwing you roughly to the floor by Mitchell's feet. You were winded from the impact, your head recieving another painful hit as well. To your relief, your airways were no longer hindered, gasps and coughs wracking your form.

Mitchell would've knelt by you right then and there if it didn't show vulnerability to his enemies. He needed to make them leave first. "You're such a killjoy, Mitchell, you need to—". The stranger squeaked, suddenly being held up high against the wall, within the same grip he had placed you in. Rage coursed through every fibre of Mitchell's being, his gaze hard like stone when confronting these males.

"Not so nice when it's the other way round, is it, Seth?", the Irishman growled through his teeth. His grip grew harder, Seth's eyes riddled with fear, the way yours had been. Your vision blurred slightly amidst your gasps for air, barely managing to see the way Mitchell's eyes became like death and his teeth pointed. "If you or your friends touch her again, I'll crush the life from your fucking skull!". The other male no longer held confidence within his gaze, eyeing his counterpart and your crumpled form on the floor.

"I'm sorry", Seth was only able to mouth. "I'm sorry". Mitchell allowed him to drop to the floor, holding his aching neck. Surprisingly, Seth didn't gasp for air. Unbeknownst to you, he didn't need it. "Is she special to you or something?", he ground out.

"That's none of your concern", Mitchell replied coldly, his expression seemingly human again. "But, she's untouchable. And you will respect that". Straightening his clothes, Seth eyed you pensively,

"Herrick will be intrigued to know about this, Mitchell. Especially since she knows our secret".

"Run back to him then. Tell him the truth. I want them all to know", he insisted challengingly. Taken aback by this revelation, the two males finally backed off from your flatmate. At last, they'd gone.

Dread suddenly clouded Mitchell's every thought. His form dropped down to yours, still slumped on the concrete. "(Y/n)?", he called softly, so unlike the tone he'd just used with those men. That was the Mitchell you knew. His cool hands held your face, your head wound still bleeding. To his own surprise, the bloodlust never came. There was only concern, care and love. So much love.

His hazel hues searched your neck almost frantically, relief suddenly filling his heart at no puncture wounds. He'd gotten to you in time. The same couldn't be said for the innocent stranger he'd spotted at the other end of the alley. He could do nothing for that person now. You were his priority. "Mitchell", you sobbed, weakly reaching up to hold his hands, hot tears falling freely now.

"I'm here", he whispered, hoisting you up with one arm. His lips pressed a chaste kiss against your forehead, his arms encasing you in a protective embrace. "I'm here".

The vampire had wasted no time, effortlessly carrying you through the streets. It wasn't long before he was finally stumbling through the front doors of your shared home with you in tow. Both the ghost and werewolf ceased their worried pacing to rush to your aid. "It's okay, I've got her".

"What happened?!", Annie cried, her gaze growing tearful at your various injuries. Mitchell shared a look with George, the latter able to understand. Vampires. The same two who had taken it upon themselves to beat up George only two years prior. His voice dropped an octave cautiously,

"Is she??".

"No", Mitchell's head shook, his voice gentle. George exhaled in relief. You weren't a vampire. You were hurt, but you weren't a vampire.

The threesome were now faced with the problem they'd attempted to avoid. You knew. How much, was a different matter.

Mitchell had carried you to the bathroom, sitting you down on the bathtub's edge to tend to your wounds. You weren't concussed. Shaken would've been a better word. Whilst the raven haired male worked gently on cleaning the blood from your face, he filled the tub with steaming water so that you could clean yourself later. Your eyes studied him, the colour of his skin, those lavish curls framing his face. His eyes were kind, even when they resembled the colour of death. He'd protected you.

The cool hands that cradled your face tilted your head back with such gentleness, it brought tears to your eyes. Mitchell was so unlike the monsters you'd seen that evening.

"Thank you", you murmured, whilst he placed a dressing over your lump. His gaze withdrew its focus from your wound, still gentle when it was trained on your eyes.

"It's alright". His words of assurance were hushed, as if speaking normally would scare you. "Just clean yourself up and head to bed. If you're hungry, I'll make you some food".

Although he'd left without saying much else, Mitchell realised that you were in a state of shock. You couldn't hear the whole truth, not until you'd had some time to register everything.

The following days were hard. You were in bedrest, only coming downstairs to silently retrieve food. Your mind reflected on what you'd seen. Those men weren't human. Mitchell knew them. He was like them, but unlike them too. If the concept of Vampires existed, what else did??

Your thoughts were suddenly broken, your protector stepping into the room, carefully closing the door behind him. "Annie and George are out. It's just us". You nodded, Mitchell moving to sit on the end of your bed. The mirror that sat by your window was blank. You should've been shocked, but there was only an understanding. Vampires have no reflection.

Moving out from your covers, you crawled to sit beside the kind male. "Mitchell", you began shakily, him nodding gently to encourage you to continue. "Those men. They weren't human. They were vampires, weren't they?". A smile twitched on his expression. You were too perceptive.

"That's right".

"They knew you", you continued, your brows furrowed in curiosity. "How??".

"I'm old, (Y/n). 116 years old to be exact", he confessed. "When you live for so long, you sometimes get caught up with the wrong people".

"You're nothing like them, though", you breathed, reaching out to trail your fingertips along his cold arm. "You don't— hurt people".

"I try not to". Your brows creased in concern, seeing the shame in his eyes. "I've hurt people before. Lost control. It's hard to live how I do". You nodded. "Does that scare you?". His hazel orbs monitored your expression for fear, unsurity.

"I'm not afraid of you, Mitchell", you whispered, reaching across to place your warmer hand over his chest where his heart rested. If his heart wasn't stiffened, it would have been hammering from anxiety. His tongue darted out to moisten his lips nervously.

"I'm the creature of nightmares, (Y/n)", his voice remained surprisingly steady, his smile growing sadder. "I'm a monster".

"I don't believe that", your words caught him offguard, something unreadable flashing in his gaze when it fell on you again. "Monsters don't save people from other monsters. Monsters aren't kind or selfless. They have no remorse. And they can never be human, like you".

You shuffled closer, Mitchell moving away from your touch. "What are you doing?", his brows furrowed in confusion, growing scared that his inner creature would take its chance. But, you instead answered him in the form of a hug. Your arms clasped around his broad shoulders, allowing him to break from your touch any time he wished. He restrained his senses from breathing your scent, carefully resting his head on your shoulder. His arms wove around your smaller form, bringing himself into a less delicate embrace with you. It was firm and sure.

"I'm trusting you", you answered his question vocally now. Mitchell would have begged that you don't, were it not for the sudden epiphany that came to him. It helped him see differently for once.

Maybe through you, he could learn to trust himself again?

Finally grappling that the household you lived in wasn't normal, you found that you didn't mind. Mitchell had helped you understand everyone in the house, whilst helping them to live unhindered.

"We're home!", George announced, sauntering through the door with Annie in tow.

"Welcome home, Mr Werewolf", you greeted him from the couch where you laid alongside Mitchell.

"Glad to see you up and around again, (Y/n)—", he chuckled, suddenly sputtering, "What??". Your counterpart had a shit-eating grin splayed on his sharp features. "You outed me, Mitchell?? I thought she wasn't supposed to know!", his voice was a harsh whisper.

"She is in the room, George", Annie sighed, moving past him to snuggle up beside you happily. "I'm just glad you're okay. And that I'll never be disappearing from your sight again".

"Me too", you agreed.

"In my defense, she figured out that Seth and his little friend were Vampires. Myself included", the Irishman raised his hands, almost proud that you'd worked it all out. "She suspected Annie might’ve been one. A little hint, and she caught on". George's brows furrowed.

"How'd she figure me out then??".

"You do see the state you're in when you come back home the morning after, don't you?", Mitchell deadpanned. "You're hardly beating up bears by the lake. Werewolf was the only logical explanation".

"Aside from camping?".

"George, nobody goes into the forest for a night to roll on the ground naked".

"Fair point", George conceded with some embarrassment, his eyes darting to you. "And you're fine with all of this?". You nodded,

"Absolutely. Your secrets are safe with me".

The household finally felt free, everyone able to be themselves. You actually enjoyed everything being the furthest thing from normal. Secrets were never hard for you to maintain. You didn't have many friends or classmates outside of the home, your personal circle slimming down to just your roommates.

Nonetheless, they encouraged you to live your life normally and pursue a relationship like George had. One of your classmates had asked you out, the two of you only dating for a month before things turned horribly sour.

You had found out that your date was dating many other bachelorettes. Despite how your feelings weren't overly strong for this man, you felt hurt. As if you were only good enough for a backup plan or affair. Your time had been completely wasted.

The front door of your shared home slammed, your feet quickly leading you up the stairs whilst you ignored three sets of concerned eyes. "Told you that this fella seemed like a cock", George sighed, recieving a sharp elbow from Mitchell and a pointed look of disapproval from Annie. "What?? He was in the end!".

"I'm going to see if she's alright", the vampire huffed, standing from the couch to trail your steps. Your bedroom door was closed, but never locked. Mitchell knocked softly, pressing his forehead against the wood.

"Don't come in, I'm a mess", you sniffled, an amused grin forming on his expression.

"Don't worry, I'm not a roomba", Mitchell joked, conceding that it was a cringeworthy one.

"Mitchell?". Your door creaked open, the Irishman slipping into your room. The door closed behind him, his eyes quickly becoming softer at seeing you so distraught. Wordlessly, he made his way over to where you sat on the floor in front of your bed and slid down beside you. His large arm brought you close against him, now trusting himself more around you to do so.

Mitchell's carnivorous instincts had been present, but dying down slowly, day by day. It was difficult, but he was managing to control himself. "I'm sorry", he apologised for your current situation, wishing there was more that he could do.

"Don't be", you insisted, laughing sadly. "It's not your fault that he was an arse". His smile matched your sadder one, your head coming to rest in the crook of his neck. Mitchell had been envious of this man, but never wished ill on your relationship with him, praying that you could find happiness. Some part of him tore itself up at seeing you like this, but was completely oblivious to your true feelings.

You were in love with Mitchell, not this man you'd dated. You'd tried to pursue happiness with another, not believing yourself to be good for or good enough for Mitchell. It felt hopeless, every part of you screaming for whom you truly yearned for. But, you knew it was too risky, even if he felt the same.

Your head turned, Mitchell attempting to press a comforting chaste kiss to your cheek, repeating what happened once with Annie. His lips had accidentally brushed yours, a jolt running through you both. Your tears had been forgotten, Mitchell's expression lighting up in an amused grin. He laughed softly against your lips, his smile becoming contagious. "Annie did warn me about this— I'm sorry", you giggled, eyes flickering shyly to his own. His lower lip was drawn between his teeth, his gaze fluttering over your features in admiration.

"I'm not", the confession tumbled from him in a hushed breath. Mitchell knew, as well as yourself that you were both giving into something so dangerous. His nose brushed your own as the last of his restraint faded from him. There was no going back now.

"(Y/n), Mitchell", George knocked on the door. "I ordered some pizza for lunch. Come down and get it while it's hot!".

"Coming!", you called back, Mitchell forcing a smile when you looked on him again. "Shall we go?".

"I'm hardly one to say no to pizza", he scoffed, coming to a stand with you. Remaining behind, his hazel gaze followed your retreating form before his eyes closed dejectedly.

What had he done??

_________________________________________

Hope you all enjoyed!! Let me know what you all thought! Any and all feedback is welcome!! Part two coming soon!! ❤

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#being human #being human uk #john mitchell #john mitchell x reader #mitchell x reader #fanfiction #aidan turner #gif not mine #credit to creator

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tilebytiles · 2 months

Text

When the Sun Goes Down (Alex Turner x Reader) - Part 1

summary: your favorite barista is ... a vampire?

word count: 5k

warnings: animal death, mild violence

You didn't like going to the café near your flat much. For one, finding the energy to even drag yourself out of bed was difficult most days, but topping that off with interacting with and being surrounded by complete strangers? It was like a circle of Hell reserved for the socially inept and the painfully anxious. Still, you couldn't deny that the barista that made your drink nearly every time you did go there made it worth it.

You were pretty sure his name was Alex; you had never thought to read his name tag properly, since you thought it would be weird if you barreled in, going, "Hey, Alex, get me that mocha latte! And make it with oat milk!" However, the brief glimpses you'd gotten out of the corner of your eye told you his name, if it wasn't Alex, for sure started with an A. Andrew? Anthony? Adam? Aidan? Alan? None of those really fit him, and the first two didn't even seem like they'd fit on his name tag. Alex seemed the most appropriate.

It wasn't like you two had spoken beyond formalities. You came in, exchanged the usual greetings, recited your order, and then he asked for payment and called your name once your coffee was ready. That was the most you ever spoke to one another. You, being so socially awkward that even your therapist cringed on your behalf sometimes, could never work up the courage to go beyond the script you two had developed. You wanted to- he seemed interesting. His hair sat a bit shaggily on his head, getting in his eyes sometimes and only being restrained by the hat all of the baristas had to wear. He had big brown eyes and arguably one of the prettiest smiles you'd ever seen.

The barista that was possibly named Alex had been the subject of a number of artworks, some being simple sketches and some being full-fledged paintings. There had been a couple of times where you'd gone to the café just to study him. You were aware it was all probably quite creepy, but in your defence, he was an easy subject to study and also your favourite. Everyone was made differently, you were well aware, but you didn't think you'd ever seen anyone that looked like him. The fact that he was so unique made you want to devote entire sketchbooks to studies of him. Besides, no one except you ever saw the pages of your sketchbooks or the canvases lying around your flat, so it wasn't like you were trying to get attention from his likeness. It was mostly just for your own enjoyment.

"Y/N?" The sound of your name being called made you jump a bit, and the pen you'd been mindlessly sketching with jutted across the paper awkwardly. You dropped the pen onto your sketchbook and got up from your table, heading to the counter. As you approached, you made sure to read his nametag this time- it was Alex.

You took the portable cup from him, and even with the sleeve it sat in, it still warmed your previously cold hands up. Your name was scrawled on the sleeve in the handwriting you'd come to recognise rather quickly. You smiled at him. "Thank you. You could have just left it on the counter, you know."

He returned your smile and shook his head a little. "Nah, it's alright," he said. "I just don't want a repeat of the time your coffee almost got stolen."

Brief glimpses of Alex trying to get the attention of the customer that had taken your coffee, mistaking your name for hers, without being any louder than he had to flashed through your mind, and you had to stifle a laugh. You'd felt bad for him- you could tell he wasn't the greatest in social situations, either, even as a barista, and since he couldn't really leave his spot behind the counter, he was left awkwardly calling, "Ma'am? Um, ma'am, excuse me- ma'am?" until she finally turned around and realised he was talking to her.

"So," he said, shifting his hat atop his head, "will you ever show me what's in that sketchbook?"

He'd seen you with it before, and he'd asked about it, too. You had been vague every time, too embarrassed by the idea of him opening it just to find dozens of sketches of his face from all angles. There were a few full-body sketches, and you used those to draw out different outfits on him; you wondered what he'd look like in a suit, or clad in leather, or in a cosy jumper. You imagined him in different poses, too; crouching, kneeling, sitting thoughtfully with his head in his hand, leaning against a wall. Some of the sketches had the privilege of being coloured in, but the rest were just line drawings with some shading.

You sighed. "Probably not."

His lower lip jutted out in what you guessed to be a pout. "Why not?"

"It's not very interesting. I don't know why you want to see it."

"Because I'm sure you're a great artist."

You snorted at that. "Just drop it, please."

He didn't. Instead, his pout only seemed to intensify, and his eyes practically glimmered in the light. You couldn't tell if they were just naturally that way, or if he was about to start crying. "Please?"

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, trying to fight his pleading, but it was no use. You groaned and said, "Fine."

His face did a complete 180, and he practically beamed at you. "Thank you."

You quickly looked away before you started staring.

You remained in the café for the rest of the day, something you’d only done once before. It felt a bit strange to watch customers come and go, come and go, come and go, and then just go. About twenty minutes before closing, you began packing up your things to head home. You hadn’t brought much; just your bag, your sketchbook and a few different pens. Your coffee cup had long since been drained, and you made sure to throw it away before heading out the door, a small chime signalling your departure.

You made a swift left and went down the sidewalk, subconsciously avoiding any cracks you encountered. Sometimes, you counted how many steps it took to cross one square, although you weren’t sure why you did it. You weren’t very far from the café, however, when you heard a metallic thumping. The sound made you turn, but when you looked around, you couldn’t immediately see anything wrong. You were about to dismiss it when you heard it again. It was coming from the dumpster by the café.

You knew there was the chance for you to become something out of a horror film; a ruthless killer would jump out from behind the dumpster and stab you to death, then throw your body in, and eventually, you would end up compacted into a trash cube like the ones in Wall-E and no one would ever find your body. Despite that, you approached anyway, albeit rather slowly. You figured if you didn’t rush over, you’d have more time to see if there was a killer waiting with the feasting mice. Your shoes were virtually silent as they moved along the asphalt lot. You heard a faint snapping sound, like bones breaking, which made you cringe.

When you got close enough, you could make out a figure that was crouched down beside the dumpster, turned away from you. You squinted at them and studied their attire … the knot of what you guessed was an apron, pressing into their lower back … an unruly mess of hair that swept against their shoulders … wait. “Alex?”

The figure froze and turned to face you. It was Alex, but something was very, very wrong. There was a dead mouse in his hands, the white fur of its neck stained red with blood. Blood was smeared on his hands and around his lips, and glinting in the light of the nearby street lamp were two perfectly pointy fangs. Your eyes widened, and every synapse in your brain seemed to fire at once, screaming at you in a ghastly choir to get the hell out of there. You remained stuck in the same spot, though, with you and Alex just staring at each other.

You finally opened your mouth to scream, and Alex jumped up, dropping the mouse. “Don’t,” he said in a low voice. The seriousness that coated his features now, creasing his brow and darkening his eyes, scared you so much that your mouth immediately snapped shut. He sighed and looked down at his hands. He moved to wipe them on his apron, then seemed to think better of it and held them awkwardly away from his clothes. “I know this looks bad.”

“Of course it does!” you hissed. “What are you doing?”

“Uh.” He looked off at the street, watching a car as it sped by. He was still tucked away in the shadows of the building, meaning only you could see him. “If I told you,” he said slowly, his gaze sliding back over to meet yours, “you wouldn’t believe me.”

You released something that was between a scoff and a laugh. “And I’m just supposed to pretend I didn’t just see you covered in blood with a dead mouse in your hands?” He nodded slowly. You wanted to smack him. “I’m not leaving until I get some answers.”

He sighed and nodded, looking down at the asphalt. “Fine. I’m a vampire.”

You blinked. “A vampire,” you repeated slowly. “But … I thought vampires killed people.”

“We can. Some do. I don’t.”

“So you feed on the mice instead?”

He nodded. “I don’t feel great doin' it, but it’s the only way I can survive.”

“Right.” You tried to keep your voice level, but you still wanted to scream. You wanted to scream at the top of your lungs and run down the road, flailing your arms, and if you accidentally got hit by a car in the process, would that really be so bad?

“I need you to promise me something.”

Your jaw worked slowly. You wanted to be snarky and demand something in return, but you were too nice to try and blackmail him. “What?”

“You can’t tell anyone.”

“I was totally planning on telling my therapist,” you replied sarcastically.

The joke drew a small chuckle from him, but the hint of a smile that came with it was instantly gone again. He sighed and tilted his head back, looking up at the endless void of stars. “I’m sorry, really. I … I hate when people find out like this.”

That caught your attention. “This has happened before?”

“Not exactly like this, but my, um, my friend, he- he found me with a mouse in his flat. It had gotten caught in one of those wooden mouse traps, and I hadn’t fed in a couple of days by then, and I felt weak, so I took it out and … and then he came in. He was nice about it, but, you know, it still sucks.”

“Was that a pun?”

He blinked and lowered his head to look at you. “You know, I hadn’t even realised when I said it.”

"Right. So ... how long can you go without feeding?"

He looked off towards the road again, seeming to think about it. "A few days at most, maybe. I eat normal food, but if I don't get blood, it's like ... dyin' of dehydration."

That made you wince a little. You'd always heard of how terrible dying of dehydration was, and you felt bad knowing that was basically what he was at risk of all the time. It wasn't like he could go around and kill mice every day, and he seemed reluctant to go after anything else. "Are your friend and I the only people that know?"

He shook his head, still staring at the road. Another car sped by. "My parents know, along with a couple more friends of mine. You're the only stranger that knows."

"Am I really a stranger if you've made my coffee for months?"

That made him smile again, and this time, it stuck around longer than the previous one had. "That's true. I know you hate regular milk, you love lattes, and you never order iced coffee 'cause you're cold all the time."

You were surprised he'd even remembered you nervously rambling about that once. That wasn't important, though. You let out a quiet sigh. "It ... it's getting late. I should head home. Will you ... be alright?"

He finally looked at you again and nodded. "I can get myself cleaned up just fine."

You nodded. "Okay, um ... goodnight, Alex."

"Night, Y/N."

You slowly turned and began to walk back to the sidewalk, your mind still reeling from all the information you'd just received. When you glanced back to see if Alex was still there, he was already gone, and the mouse had been left near the dumpster.

•••••

Lucky for you, you had therapy the next day.

Your leg bounced anxiously as you sat in the waiting room, nestled into the far right side of one of the leather sofas. Your elbow dug into the arm of the sofa, and you had your head in your hand while you stared out the window, observing all the passersby. You saw a man on a bike; a woman with a child; a couple, holding hands as they went; two girls chatting and presumably laughing (you couldn't hear them) that you were 99% certain you went to uni with. All sorts of people passed by the window every time you were here, and it was slowly getting to the point where you could pick out the ones that made this sidewalk part of their regular route.

"Y/N, you can come on in, I'm just gonna pop off to the bathroom first," your therapist said, making you turn your head. You watched as she walked across the waiting room and into the bathroom, pulling the door shut behind her with a soft click. Her name was Mary, and she'd been your therapist for the last two years. Initially, you were hesitant and reserved with her, having never done therapy before and being unsure of exactly how much you were supposed to share- revealing personal details about yourself to a complete stranger scared you, anyway, even if they were there to help you. She was understanding, though, and after a couple of fluke sessions where you didn't say much, you finally began to step out of your shell with her. Initially, you'd thought you'd only do it for a few months and then cope with the rest yourself, but it turned out that your brain was like the world's biggest jumble of cords and it would take a lot more than a few months to unravel it. Two years later, and there were still some rather stubborn knots that needed taking care of.

You pushed yourself up off the sofa and walked out of the waiting room, heading down the hall and into the first door on the left. The office was an old house that had been bought and remodelled, meaning that every room had a homely feel to it. Mary's office was no exception; in fact, you were convinced the at-home feel was entirely her idea. There was a sofa pushed up against the wall the door was in with a couple of throw pillows on it, and across from it was Mary's desk. There was also an armchair directly across from the door that she sat in during your sessions; she only sat in her desk chair when she was scheduling your next appointment. There was a window that let you see out onto the street, and a tall plant of some sort beside it; her degrees were framed and hanging up on the wall above her desk; she had a number of pictures, both on the wall, on her desk, and on the bookshelf that was beside the sofa; and in the center of the floor was a fuzzy circle rug that you wanted to run your hands through. You never did, though.

You plopped onto the sofa, sitting in the center this time, and lifted your legs up, crossing them beneath you. You waited a couple of minutes, and then Mary came in, shutting the door behind her with the same gentleness she'd shown the bathroom door. She grabbed her teal-coloured tumbler and sat down in the armchair, smiling at you. "How have you been?"

You thought back to what you'd seen the night before and quickly tried to shove that memory out of the way; you might have joked to Alex about it, but you were absolutely not telling your therapist the barista you had a small crush on was a creature of the night. "I've ... been pretty good," you said slowly.

She rose an eyebrow at your hesitancy, but didn't say anything. "Have you been working on getting out of your flat every day?"

You nodded. "It's helped my mood a lot, surprisingly."

"Well, I wouldn't tell you to do something if I didn't think it would help." She offered you another smile, then asked, "And the nightmares?"

You tensed up a little and looked down at the fuzzy rug, wishing now more than ever that you could lie facedown on it and never get back up. "They've gotten worse recently. I'm not sure why."

"Has anything happened?"

You quickly racked your brain for any potential triggers and slowly shook your head. "Not that I can think of."

"Any additional stress?"

"No."

"Hmm." She sat back in the armchair and took a sip of her drink, glancing out the window. "What are they about?"

There it was. The question you'd been secretly dreading. "It's like ... I'm stuck in a building, and I can't get out."

"Describe the building."

"It was ... it was kind of old looking, at least inside. It reminded me of one of those old Victorian houses. The walls were a dark red, and there weren't many lights. It was like a maze. I kept running through halls and making different turns, but no matter what I did, I couldn't get out."

"And then what?"

"I ran into him again."

"The tall man?"

"Yeah." The man that had been appearing in your nightmares with increased frequency over the last few months or so was only referred to by you and Mary as "the tall man." You couldn't recognise him at all, but every time you saw him, he terrified you. And then you'd wake up. The first time you'd mentioned him to Mary, she grew worried that he was from a traumatic event you'd blocked out. You didn't think he was, but his recurring presence in your sleep still scared you. Sometimes, you wondered if you were just going insane.

Mary sighed. "I still worry it's from trauma, Y/N."

"I don't know," you said. "If it was, I feel like I would have nightmares about the same thing. I don't, though. Every time he shows up, it's in a completely different place."

"Did he say anything this time?" You shook your head. "Right." She looked down at the rug, chewing on the inside of her cheek, and then looked back up at you, managing a small smile. "What about that boy?"

You blinked. "That ... boy?"

"You know! The one from the café? How are things going with him?"

Ah. Alex. "Well, I mean, he makes my coffee. Uh ... he asked about my sketchbook yesterday."

"And what did you say?"

"I said no."

"Y/N!"

"What? I don't need him thinking I'm a creep!"

"I think he would be flattered," she said with a shrug. "It's not every day that someone gets whole sketchbook pages dedicated to them."

You looked away as your cheeks flushed. You had to admit, you'd had that exact line of thinking before, but you could never convince yourself of it. You got the feeling that the flattery would take the backseat in comparison to the creepiness of it all. It felt stupid and weird to even have a crush on him in the first place (you were barely willing to admit you had a crush on him at all); you two only spoke to each other because you had to. If anything, maybe he found you annoying. Maybe he didn't like how often you'd started coming in accordance with Mary's "get out of the flat" regime. Maybe he hated making your coffee. Maybe he hated you. Now that you knew he was a vampire, maybe he'd break his no-humans rule and kill you and suck all the blood from your body until you were nothing but a lifeless husk.

"Earth to Y/N."

"Huh?" You looked at Mary, who just smiled and shook her head. "Sorry, did you say something?"

"You zoned out on me. I was starting to think you'd never come back into orbit."

"Oh ... sorry."

She shook her head again. "It's fine. I was just saying that I think you should try and talk to that boy more often."

"But I only ever see him at the café."

"Then work out a way to meet up with him outside of work."

"I don't know."

"You need the social interaction. Your resolution this year was to be less of a hermit, right? You can't really do that if you don't talk to anyone."

You knew she was right. She tended to be. "Fine," you mumbled, crossing your arms over your chest. "I'll talk to him the next time I see him. But what should I say?"

"Try to find common ground. Figure out his interests and go from there."

The rest of your session went about as smoothly as any therapy session could go, and your next appointment was exactly three weeks out. Although you were tempted to just head straight home, you decided to finally bite the bullet and get the conversation with Alex over with. You weren't sure how stable any friendship you might form with him could be, considering you knew his darkest secret before you knew his last name, but you tried to remain optimistic. You took the bus to the stop that was closest to the café and forced yourself to take a couple of deep breaths to keep calm before walking inside.

The café wasn’t that busy, which immediately made the tension in your shoulders lessen. There were a few people already in line, though, so you slowly made your way to the counter, suddenly finding it impossible to stand still. Your eyes darted to every crevice of the café they could possibly reach, although you avoided looking at any faces on the off chance someone would look at you at the same time and you’d have to awkwardly look away. When it was finally your turn, Alex looked up from the till, his face falling slightly. “Y/N. What can I get you today?”

Fuck. He was already annoyed that he had to deal with you after last night. “Uh, just the usual, please.”

“Will that be all?”

Yes. “No.” What? “Uh, I wanted to ask, um …” He stared at you, waiting for you to finish, and you blurted out, “What do you like?” Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Maybe today was the day you’d run into traffic.

His brows knitted together as he seemed to process what you’d just said. You wanted to sink into the floor. “You wanna know what I like?” he asked slowly. You nodded. “Alright, well, uh, I think the croissants are pretty … swell. I like the cakes, uh-“

“No,” you interrupted, “that’s not what I meant. I meant, like … interests.”

You watched as realisation dawned on his face, his brows raising and his mouth forming an ‘o’ shape. “I like music. I like, uh, readin’ books. Um … I write sometimes, too, although I think I’m shite at it. I like those old black and white films. Why are you askin’?”

“I was going to see if we could be friends, maybe,” you mumbled, looking down at the counter. This was all suddenly incredibly embarrassing. You felt like a child again, and you absolutely despised it.

“Oh.” You looked back up at him, rather hesitantly, expecting him to look annoyed or disgusted. Instead, he was smiling. It was faint, but it was still there. “We can be friends, Y/N. You coulda just started with that, though.”

“Al, you better not be flirtin’ with the customers.” The sound of someone else’s voice startled the both of you, and you both looked at the barista that was currently frothing milk. His name tag said Miles, if you were reading it right.

“I’m not,” Alex said sharply, glaring at him. Miles just grinned and winked at you before turning his attention back to the device he stood in front of. Alex rolled his eyes and turned to face you again. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine,” you said, although the implication of Miles’ wink that Alex could flirt with you made your cheeks go red. “Um, is it alright if I give you my number?”

•••••

Alex stretched himself out on the grass, letting out something between a groan and a sigh. A beam of sunlight filtered through the branches of the tree you were underneath, casting him in an otherworldly glow and turning his irises into pools of honey behind his sunglasses. "God, I love sunny days," he sighed.

It was the next day, and after the two of you had exchanged numbers, Alex had suggested hanging out since he didn't have work that day. It wasn't like you had anything else to do besides rotting away in your flat, so you agreed. Another day of getting outside meant another sticker on your calendar. February was almost complete. You'd stopped by the café beforehand anyway, though, just to get coffee and a snack. You were sipping at your perfectly toasty mocha latte, and Alex had already managed to down half of his black coffee.

He looked up at you as you bit into your cookie, catching the crumbs with the white paper bag your treats had been slipped into. He didn't say anything for a few moments, just watched you. Then he asked, "You haven't told anyone, have you?"

You lowered the cookie back into the bag. "No," you said. "I saw my therapist yesterday, funnily enough, but I kept my mouth shut."

Amusement danced in his eyes as he remembered your remark. "I'm sorry you have to deal with this now."

You shrugged a little. "It's fine. Adds a bit of excitement to my life." Now it was your turn to eye him. "If you're a vampire, how come you're not a pile of ashes right now?"

He barked out a laugh at that. You quite liked the way his laugh sounded. "Honestly, I was scared to go outside when I got turned, but when I finally did, I was ... fine. I guess it's 'cause I'm not a purebred or anything."

"Oh. So what vampire perks do you get?"

"Well, I can run really fast, although I don't really use that one 'cause I don't run anywhere. I can see in the dark. Erm ... I can sunbathe and not get burnt?"

It was your turn to laugh. "No wonder you're so pale."

"My skin glistens. Like I'm covered in a bunch of tiny crystals."

You set the paper bag down in the grass, deciding to forget about your cookie for now. "Does all the regular stuff still hurt you?"

"Yeah. I mean, I haven't tested a stake to the heart, and I don't plan to, but everythin' else ..."

"Do you not age anymore?"

He shook his head. "I mean, it's hard to say. You don't change much in your twenties, I don't think. But after I got turned, I just ... knew. It was a weird feeling. It still is."

That made you frown a little. You were beginning to wonder if he even enjoyed being a vampire. "I'm gonna go out on a limb and guess that you were turned against your will."

He nodded slowly, turning his head ever so slightly to stare up past the branches, watching the clouds as they drifted by. "It was over a year ago. There was ... there was this man in my dreams." His hands, which had been supporting his head, were now waving around in the air, adding gestures to his words. "Every time I saw him, it freaked me out, although I didn't understand why. It was like seein' him triggered somethin', and I'd immediately wake up. It went on for a few months, and then one night, when I was walking home from work, someone jumped out of an alley and knocked me out. I don't remember anything that happened afterwards, but when I woke up, I had the strangest craving for blood."

Although his story did make you sad, your mind immediately latched onto one detail in particular. "Wait, you saw a man in your dreams?"

"Yeah, he was a fuckin' creep. Dunno who he was."

"Was he tall and wearing a black cloak with his hair gelled back?"

"Yeah." He looked back at you, his brows furrowing. "What are you gettin' at, Y/N?"

"I ..." You gulped. "I've been seeing that man in my dreams since November."

Slowly, he pushed himself up into a sitting position, still staring at you. If you looked hard enough, behind those sunglasses, you were pretty sure there was a hint of fear in his eyes. "November?"

You nodded. "I didn't know what to think of it, and my therapist thought that maybe it was related to trauma, and-"

"Y/N," he interrupted, his voice much graver than it'd ever been, "you're not safe. They're gonna come for you."

•••••

tags: @elexnorislingtxn / @edandmollydeservebetter / @sagegreensimmr / @billyseye / @supernaturalandpain / @not-a-big-slay

#alex turner #alex turner x reader #humbug #humbug era #arctic monkeys #fanfic #alex turner x you #alex turner x y/n

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