#in March I drank so much I blacked out on my bed

[dragonmuse]

StrangeAugust left a request in my comments for Izzy's POV of the first night Lucius and Izzy collide at the end of Baby, I'm Amazed. The dialogue is all the same for the most part, but the thought processes definitely diverge.

There was a roaring in Izzy's ears that never stopped.

Sometimes he opened his phone and searched for Eddy's location over and over, watching the dot range over the map of the city, but mostly just between apartment and bar over and over

Sometimes he drank so much that he woke up on the floor of his apartment, sweating and vile with it.  

For the first time in his adult life, Izzy got up in the morning with no idea what to do. There had been so much order, so many rules and he had marched to that unceasing beat without thought or reservation. 

Then silence. And the noise had come. The sound that only came in the absence of all other sound. 

At the end of the second week, he poured all the booze in the apartment down the kitchen sink. None of it was helping and he was going to get himself killed wandering into a job hungover and wrung out. Jackie handed him bullshit assignments and there was no paperwork, no things to fix, no goddamn work, but to grind his teeth and let the noise roar on and on. 

He wound up at the bar with his hands fisted in his pockets. He didn’t go in for a while, just paced on the other side of the street. There was no getting Eddy back, he knew that, in a bone deep way. 

They had severed themselves from their old life with a clean sharp blade. Izzy kept finding places where the string had been cut: bank accounts he had once kept track of were abruptly closed, caches of weapons came up empty, and most painfully of all, the arrival of a check for his half of a safe house they’d purchased years ago. He had never seen the place, but it had always been a net under the high wire act of their lives. 

Now there was nothing to catch him. He felt like his armor had disintegrated. When he walked into the Revenge, he wasn’t sure what would happen, but it had to be better than whatever purgatory he’d found himself in. 

Realistically, he expected the bouncers. Ivan and Fang would be delighted to pummel him to a pulp for a thousand paper cuts of insults he’d leveled at them over the years. So he was more than a little surprised to be confronted by a tall, ascot-wearing man with a smirk slapped on his face. 

Lucius Spriggs, 27, male. Graduate of a decent liberal arts college. Bartender at the Revenge with a lewd, but ultimately innocent, side hustle. He’d been picked up once for pickpocketing when he was still in high school, let loose with a warning. No driver’s license. He lived with three of the other employees. That was as far as Izzy had bothered with the background check back when Eddy started coming here. Just making sure they weren’t bedding the enemy back when they first took up with Stede. 

“Hey there. You know you’re not welcome here, right?”

“It’s a free country,” he growled. Like he didn’t know this place was trying to eject him out onto his ass. Like the whole thing didn’t scream ‘turn back!’ in cheerful flags. 

“Sure it is, which means you’re free to leave here before our bouncers show up.”

“I’ve got money. I can get a drink if I like.”

“Mmm, no.” 

“I know my rights.” He lifted his chin. He could certainly manage to intimidate one person who by all rights should be afraid of him.  

“Good, then you know you have the right to remain silent which would be a gift to everyone involved.”

“Listen to me you fucking prick, I’m just here to have a drink."

Fuck, apparently he could not intimidate him. What was he coming to?

“I told you, we can’t serve you. Also, I think booze is probably not what you need. Therapy is probably at the top of that list, but I’m not qualified to offer that. So...” Lucius reached into his jacket pocket and Izzy tensed. More surprising people had tried to shoot him. But instead, two thin joints emerged.  “How about you smoke these with me in the alleyway and we don’t get anyone arrested tonight?”

“Fuck you.” He said out of sheer panic. It had been years since he’d smoked and that had always been with Eddy. The smell was rooted in his memory, inextricable from thick black curls that held the odor for hours afterwards. 

“I'm trying to be nice to you, you maniac. Don’t you want it to stop hurting? Just for a fucking minute?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lied. He was bleeding out. He was dying, maybe. Fuck, this would be easier if he was dying, actually. Dying was simple.

“Darling, I’m the king of breakups and I can tell when one of my subjects is in a bad way,” Lucius’ smirk only got bigger. “Smoke up, get out or get arrested for trespassing.”

Pot had never done anything weird to him. It had just mellowed the edges out. Slowed time. And yeah, maybe once and a while, anesthetized him. 

“Give me that,” he said with resignation, taking the joint from Lucius’ hand. It went easy.

“Good choice.” 

He recognized the way the alley was lit up. SOP for a place that Eddy was going to spend any real time in. There was probably a camera out here too, tracking mice and the garbage trucks. Lucius posted up against the wall without concern, apparently as at home out here as he was inside. There was something in the easy way he rested against brick. Like he trusted the world to hold him up. Must be nice. 

Now that he had the fucking joint, Izzy wanted it so badly his teeth itched.  But he hadn’t smoked anything in years, so he was forced to ask, 

“Got a light?” 

The matches were unexpected, a flare of something old school. The brief strike of flame lighting Lucius' features in an unusual way. They gave him a puckish air, his dark eyes dancing as he held out the match for Izzy’s use.  Then he lit his own and took in a deep puff. He exhaled out into a perfect ‘O’ of smoke which Izzy tried hard not to be impressed by. 

He took his own drag, let it settle in his lungs before exhaling. It was just placebo, thinking it worked right away, but he was willing to concede to any effect at this point. He leaned against the wall too. It was brick, it wasn’t going to fucking collapse on him. 

“So,” Lucius began and Izzy tried not to tense up all over again, “What were we hoping to accomplish tonight?”

He was not admitting to this ludicrous human being that he had no fucking idea, and he was considering leaving. This was ridiculous. Then Lucius nodded knowingly and said, 

“No plan? Yeah, I’ve been there. You just turn up and hang around hoping for something. Anything.”

It lanced into him. Lucius had broken into his skull and sifted around in the pieces. Shit. And then there were all of these words in the back of Izzy’s throat. All of this agony, and it just welled out of him,

“We didn’t break up. There was nothing to breakup. He-” No. Wrong. Incorrect on all accounts, apparently. Wrong about everything he’d ever thought about the person he’d dedicated his life too.  He choked on it. “-she was my boss.”

“Good save,” Lucius did not sound like he thought it was a good save at all..  “I don’t think whatever you two had going on wasn't just boss and employee. Leda cuts my checks and I’ve never stalked her, even a little. I mean, I get the stalking thing. I did it once. I was twenty, heartbroken, and I thought I was in love. Did some very ill-advised shit. None of it worked, by the way.”

And no. No they were not boss and lackey. Flunky. Assistant, when someone was trying to insult him, but nicely. He wasn’t a shadow or a babysitter. Or he hadn't been. Now he was nothing at all.

“Twenty years,” He spat. “Twenty years of doing what I was told and beyond. Made sure they were watered, fed, held back their hair when they wretched their guts out in a gutter, and made sure they weren't talking to themselves too obviously in front of the wrong people. Smoothed over every business relationship when they broke it and kept the sharks away from their money. How do you just walk away from all that?”

“Pretty easily apparently,” Lucius pointed out. And yeah. Just yeah, that hit home too. Pretty goddamn easy. “Just plain old all-consuming love. Those two love each other a truly disgusting amount. They actually do sit and stare into each other's eyes sometimes. I thought that was made up in books. We timed it once and they made it almost six minutes, no words, just meaningful looks. It was kind of impressive.”

Love. Eddy hadn’t loved anyone, not even herself, in the entire time Izzy had known them. Certainly, she had never asked if Izzy had ever loved anyone. Or if Izzy loved her. He would’ve lied, if she’d asked. Would’ve lied and not even known it was a lie.  

“It's an obsession. Love doesn’t exist,” he ground out, instead of a thousand other things.  

“Wow, that is some very deep bitterness. Like existentially deep. Like do-not-look-in -this -big - black-hole-because-it’s-filled-with-all-my-demons kind of deep.”

“I don’t have demons.”  Demons were a liability. He had got rid of a lot of people with demons. He took another drag, blew it out through his nose, wanting the burn of the smoke. 

“I think you might be the most possessed person I’ve ever met,” Lucius argued. “Listen, do you want some advice?”

“Fuck no.” He snorted. 

“Too bad. Everyone gets one free if they want it or not.” Oh great, free advice from a know-it-all twenty-something. Just what Izzy had always needed.  “I think the best way to get over them is to do something new. Try someone new.”

“I don’t need anyone.” He didn’t. He didn’t even need himself. Throw the whole thing out. Which...hm. The pot might be hitting him harder with all the years of abstinence between tokes. 

Lucius ground the joint out against the brick. It was another causal, easy movement and Izzy wasn’t sure why he watched it so intently. Maybe it was the rogue thought that he could be the wall, Lucius grinding it out on his arm. Maybe it was the turn of Lucius’ wrist. Maybe it was the fucking pot.  

“What you need is to touch grass. Just like...buy a shirt in a color. Any color. I might even give you a lighter shade of gray if the rainbow is too scary. Then go to a gay club and dance with someone. Be nice to them and try to get laid.”

And then long pale fingers slapped down over his chest. It didn’t hurt, but it was firm and certain. It pinned him to the wall, just a little. The confidence, the surety of it, spiked directly into Izzy’s fogged out brain. 

“That’s an order, sailor.”

An order. Izzy stared down. Lucius’ fingernails were nicely kept, trimmed and clean. Did they know how to dig in? Could they sink into the skin and leave red marks behind?  Izzy’s ribs hummed with the impact, resonating through his chest. 

He wanted to put his hand over it. To hold him there. Lucius dropped it away instead and Izzy took in a shattered breath. He had to leave. Right now. There was nothing for him inside the gilded nonsense inside.  

And...fuck. Having an order. Having something to seize on did more to relax his fight or flight bullshit then anything else. Not that Lucius had meant it. No way the man could know what one sentence could do to him. 

He had to walk away. Right now. There was danger here that he hadn't detected, wasn't in the least bit prepared to defend against. The joint he tossed. The air seemed to resist him as he pushed off the wall, but he managed, one leaden step at a time. He shouldn’t look back. He couldn’t. 

But he did. Lucius was still leaning against the wall, no longer smirking at all. He was watching Izzy closely, tracking his movements. The expression was at once intensely familiar and entirely new. It took his breath away. 

Go.  Screamed every instinct he had. So he went.  But that look stayed with him. It walked with him to his car and drove home with him. It filled the dark corners of his apartment and when he got into bed, it climbed in beside him. 

All morning while he tried to go through his routine, it knocked him off kilter.  None of it had been purposeful. A young, vibrant man didn’t have any need for someone like Izzy. Certainly not one that worked for Bonnet. Definitely not one so comfortable in his own skin that he wore a fucking ascot and offered pot to random, very dangerous, strangers. 

The trouble was that there was nothing else to think about. He went to work, he did fuck all or worse, did a job and found no pleasure in it. It was like someone had clawed out all the meat inside of him and put clockwork in instead. 

Except that look. The press of a hand on his chest. 

He walked home one night, a punishingly long distance, but he needed to move. When he passed a store window, he slowed. The photos were men his age. Gray- haired and laughing as they canoed down a river or hiked up a mountain. The mannequins had blank faces and the clothes were simple. Clean looking. Nothing that someone wouldn’t take seriously. 

It was busy inside, good cover for someone dithering over a selection of the most basic of wardrobe staples. The whole time that he moved through the motions of picking a t-shirt, he was telling himself to stop. Put it down. There was no need for any of this. 

He paid for it and left the store without registering the face of a single other person.  

It was just a t-shirt. He could work out in it or throw it away and it wouldn’t make a damn bit of difference in his life. If he went through his drawers and pulled out jeans he hadn’t worn in years that could be nothing too. 

It could all be nothing. What was he going to do? The last bit, the idea that he would just go to some kind of...that wasn’t who he was. He didn’t go to clubs. He didn’t dance. He didn’t know how to even begin to approach another man. He’d gotten Faith because she picked him and Eddy because....he actually had no idea. Proximity probably.  

And he didn’t want to meet a stranger. The appeal of a quick fuck had never made any sense to him. To have a close encounter with someone you’d never see again? Who you didn’t know? What for? He could get himself off more effectively than any person he’d just collided with. 

Except Lucius wasn’t quite a stranger now.  

Izzy held the t-shirt in his hands and expelled a breath. He wasn’t thinking about going to a club. He wasn’t thinking about a stranger. He was thinking about a hand reaching out in the dark. A man who took the time to give him advice and mellow him out for a minute when he should’ve bounced Izzy out into the street without a second thought. 

He’d just...show him. That he’d listened. Then go. It’s not like Lucius had shown any interest in him. And anyway, it was a reason to go back to the bar which he couldn't quite shake the desire to do. Just to check. Just know. Just pick at a scab.

This time no one stopped him at the door, but he was acutely aware that his time was limited. It still took him a long minute to move from the entrance and take a seat at the bar. There was another bartender there, but he’d been there last week too. 

It didn’t take long for Lucius to emerge. He moved with purpose and Izzy tensed, ready to be thrown out. That would be the smart thing for Lucius to do. Probably for everyone’s sake, including Izzy’s.  Instead, Lucius settled in front of him, put his chin on one hand and smiled. 

It was a hell of a smile.

“You’re a good listener. I like the shirt.”  His voice was clear, even in the growing noise of the bar. 

“Thanks.” He couldn’t look at him full on. It was too much. 

“Here’s how I think the night should go.” Izzy readied himself for the bull rush, but instead, Lucius went on with that directive crystal clear tone,  "I’m going to get you a drink, my choice. You down that and if you can just sit there and enjoy the show, I’ll go home with you.”

“Who says that’s what I want?”   

Go home with him? Izzy hadn’t had anyone else in his apartment, except the cleaning lady and maintenance people since he bought it. Someone else in his apartment? Someone else...fuck. Someone else in his bed? Could he do that? He would have to. That was how the night was going to go.

“‘No’ is a complete sentence. You want off this bus, it stops wherever you want.”

“Just like that?”  Izzy clutched at his own thigh, trying to ground himself. No? No was what it took? Was that the world Lucius lived in? He was fighting back a hysterical laugh. 

“Just like that,” he confirmed. “But if you’re game, I’ll make it worth your time.”

“I’ll take the drink.”  It would buy time to screw his head on straight. 

He drank the sour-sweet pink thing Lucius put in front of him. Izzy assumed there was some intention of humiliation there or a test of some kind. But Izzy had done far worse things than drink something he didn’t like and sit still for a few hours. It was practically restful. He zoned out, only coming back into reality when Eddy got on stage.  

He couldn’t bring himself to watch, but it was a thousand burning needles in his skin to know she was so close and yet might as well be as far away as the moon. 

The terrible fucking drink brought him back. It was just too obnoxious to be ignored and it reminded him of the other obnoxious unignorable thing that had brought him here in the first place. 

As soon as the curtain went down, Lucius returned to him. He didn’t lean on the counter this time, but Izzy was aware of his proximity all the more. 

“How was the drink?”

“Sour.”

“Suits you then. Are we going to your place?”

“Yeah,” Izzy said. That was how the night was going to go. 

“Okay, a few ground rules. We’re gonna kiss, I don’t do any of that emotionally frigid bullshit.” Izzy hadn’t kissed someone in ages. He wasn’t sure he even remembered how.  “You’re not going to insult me at any point or I walk. I’m not interested in insulting you either. Your safeword is just ‘no’. You say no, it stops. I say no, it stops. Sounds like you might need practice with the word from both angles. We’re sticking to hands only, absolutely no blood. You get what you ask for and you’ve got to be specific. No guessing games. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” he said with embarrassing rapidity. Did Lucius know all the demands he could’ve put on this? Izzy was fairly certain he was already beyond sense and reason. 

Fuck knew Eddy had taken out chunks of him for far less gain.

“Let’s go then.”

“Now?”

“Now.”

Lucius jumped over the bar in a feat that Izzy would not have thought him capable of. Izzy did catch the brief expression of relief, presumably that he hadn’t fallen on his face. It was impressive anyway. A show of strength that left its mark on Izzy’s already stomped on brain.

It was cool outside, but Izzy was burning up. Every nerve in his body was awake and telling him all about it. 

“Kiss me and then go get your car. You can pick me up here, fuck knows where you parked. Probably like four blocks away, to give yourself time to chicken out. 

“How’d you know that?”  Was he actually just a fucking mind reader? Izzy had even circled the block a few times first. Jesus fuck. 

“Because it’s what I would’ve done,” Lucius gave a shrug like this barely mattered. Like he hadn’t just read Izzy like a book. “Come on now. We don’t have all night.”

Kiss him. Yeah, easy shit, Hands. You just do the damn thing. He took a halting step forward then stuttered to a stop. 

He’d never kissed a man with the full intention of seeing something through. Yeah, he and Eddy had kissed sometimes, but it was usually during the act or at least as a vicious prelude. They were just standing here, out on the street. Exposed. 

Lucius was unhindered by such ideas and just leaned in. The kiss was soft, yielding. Lucius smelled like the bar, cleaning products and a bit of sweat. It was nothing, really. Just the slightest of touches, no hint of teeth or tongue. 

So why did Izzy feel like he was being flayed open? 

“Good boy,” Lucius whispered. “Go get the car.”

A word came out of his mouth, but Izzy only knew it was something like agreement. He was a string that had been plucked, vibrating at some new frequency. As he walked away, the words echoed in him and played back over and over. 

Lucius thought he’d been good. That the kiss, maybe, had been good. He’d done the right thing just by showing up. His bones were no longer connected correctly and when he got out his car keys, he dropped them like a fumbling child.  

When he pulled up in front of the bar, Lucius was waiting. Still there, still very real. The car door opened with a loud pop and then the car was no longer the quiet void that he had long enjoyed. It was stuffed full and the air was thick. 

“Ready?”  Lucius asked, with a shit eating grin. 

“Yeah.” No, he absolutely was not.  “I think I am.”

Lucius dropped a hand to Izzy’s thigh and squeezed. Izzy forced his eyes to stay on the road. This was not the way he wanted to die and the universe would think it was extremely funny to make it so.

“Good,” Lucius practically purred. “Let’s go have an adventure then.”

The hand stayed on his thigh the whole way back to his apartment building. He slid into the parking space, cutting off the engine and seriously contemplated just staying there. But then Lucius was moving, so Izzy was to. He led him to the elevator and then to the end of the hall. To the apartment that he’d picked out a decade ago with no more thought than he spent picking out socks. 

Luckily, Lucius wasn’t asking for a tour. 

“The bedroom,” he suggested instead and Izzy led him right to it. 

“Take off your shoes,” Lucius ordered, though his tone was a little hesitant. It grew more confident with every demand that Izzy followed without objection. 

It was so easy, so blessedly quiet to slip to the place where he was just waiting to please. Strip. Kneel. Open your mouth.  Touch me.  Get on the bed. Close your eyes. Take it. 

And in between each one, Lucius offered sweetness. Izzy was good, smart, hot, perfect. He was obedient, he was paying attention. He was doing the right thing. The pain was good, but Lucius was clearly not interested in truly making Izzy suffer and it didn’t entirely scratch that itch.

It was the kindness that turned Izzy inside out. 

He wasn’t even aware that he’d wept. He wouldn’t know for years until Lucius remarked on it idly while they were talking about something else altogether. It didn’t surprise him though. 

Sleeping beside a near stranger should have been impossible, but Izzy had never been so tired in his life and despite himself, he was out in seconds. When he woke up, the entire world was a little different. The axis had tilted on him. 

The horrible roaring in his ears had stopped. He could think, clearly, for the first time in months.  And his only real thought worth having was that he had to find a way to make it all happen again.

#leda house and the kraken verse #goblin king and the pup

[these-are-my-musings]

I remember so much

the kid with the locker next to mine who volunteered to piss on a acidity test in 5th grade and how it came back more acidic than normal bc of how much soda he drank, the same kid who dreamt of being in the army, and later leaked his girlfriends nudes but somehow they’re still together. I remember going to her house, her mom, her little sister who so clearly looked up to her, her bedroom which I thought was so cool bc she had a bed with another bed that could pull out as a drawer and a tv in her room with princesses? hello kitty? I remember moving schools and losing touch and seeing her at the open house for the middle school we would end up going to together, and how she acted like she didn’t know me. oh well. I remember feeling so out of place when I switched schools and dying to go to middle school to pick up where I left off but everyone was so different and had moved on without me. I remember feeling that way again in high school but the added ache of watching it happen in real time. I remember how awesome and excited I felt to wear my circus costume as a top to school and feeling on top of the world in it and then the discomfort and self consciousness that followed when I noticed how other people reacted. they weren’t ready for me. my grandmas top that mysteriously disappeared from my closet, the white silk one with the bow that tied in the front. sorry grandma. I remember the kid who melted crayons down and made them into valentines in 4th grade, I remember always somehow being in a friend group with an odd number of people. twinning with my sibling during spirit week, being told i was annoying daily by someone i considered my best friend. the first time i was made aware that I'm a loud breather. the crushing disappointment of our poetry presentation in 3rd grade. my music teacher with gorgeous black slightly peppered hair who I absolutely adored and her love of dark chocolate, “don’t call me mrs bennett, that’s my mother”, and her attempt at switching to carob chocolate bc it was healthier. the lunch lady who was so sweet and my hair would always get caught in the buttons on her uniform as she passed by with the trash can. she was so so sweet to me. I remember the first girl I ever had a crush on, her name was victoria and I thought she was beautiful and graceful and I was too shy to even speak to her. I remember the cruelness of most boys I had a crush on, and the sweetness of the ones I never told a soul about. the feeling of walking into school with live piano music filling the air, stopping to buy pencils and erasers from the machine with my best friend, and the deafening silence and anxiety when the piano was no longer playing bc I was late. the birthday party I invited her to with all my new friends at my new school, that she didn’t really fit in with, that I didn’t really fit in with, but what can you do, at 9 going on 10. hearing that the boy I liked liked me back and marching up to him demanding that he ask me out because what else are you supposed to do when you like each other besides date? funny how I still don’t quite get that one. crazy to think how my teacher in 5th grade was slut shaming me, and my other one blatantly disliked me. it was probably the undiagnosed adhd but even still I was just a bit chatty. she deserved better, my younger self. she was so strong to live with that uncertainty and anxiety every day at her age.

[the-al-chemist]

Watch Me Walk Away - Part Three

Sunflowers

A/N: it’s the final day of @kc-and-co’s Spring Challenge. Thank you so much, KC for organising this! The final prompt of the challenge is “Flowers”, and I’m going to finish with the final part of my boy Rory and @thatravenpuffwitch’s girl Rylie’s miniseries, in which Rory seeks advice from @lifeofkaze’s Reva and starts making small steps towards winning over Rylie. Warnings: references to alcohol and NSFW topics.

The idea of training the morning after match day had been met with groans by the Montrose Magpies’ squad, but Erika Rath had been adamant that it would happen. And so, happen it did.

The sun had not yet risen when the seven players, all clad in black and white, had walked out onto the pitch, nursing cups of coffees and, in the case of some, mild hangovers.

“Here,” Rory handed his fellow Chaser and old friend Reva Amari a flask. “I brought you some Pepperup Potion. Thought you could probably do with it.”

Reva sniffed the flask and urged softly before holding it back out to him. “Absolutely not. You know Pepperup Potion is for colds, anyway.”

“Aye, but it works for hangovers too. Trust me.”

“I guess at this point anything’s worth a go,” Reva muttered, pulling a face as she drank. “Gross. Why would anyone think it was a good idea to get up at this hour on a Sunday to exercise, anyway?”

“I dunno,” Rory raised his arms above his head and stretched, a smug grin on his face. “I’ve actually been for a run already.”

“You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

“Were you still drunk, or what?”

“Och, no,” said Rory, shaking his head. “I had one drink and then went home.”

“Even by your standards that is a quick pull.”

“Alone, you reprobate.”

Reva’s dark eyebrows shot upwards.

“Who are you, and what have you done with Rory McTavish?”

“I knew we had a practice session this morning. You know, some of us are able to at least act like we take our careers seriously.”

Reva pulled a face, and the team was joined by Erika Rath.

“Thank you for meeting here this early. I know Sunday mornings can be inconvenient for some of you,” she looked meaningfully at both Reva and Rory, “but I spoke to McNully yesterday, and apparently there’s an eighty percent chance that the weather is going to turn by tomorrow. Make the most of this dry spell while it lasts.”

“I agree,” Reva said, mock-seriously. “Rory, would you say that you’ve been making the most out of this dry spell?”

Rath smirked, and Rory shook his head, letting the rest of the team laugh at his expense.

The weather had been particularly good for the time of year, but with the final week of March and first week of April passing without so much as a drop of rain, the air was starting to get humid. Though no clouds had formed in the sky just yet, Rory had to admit that McNully’s statistics were - as always - likely to be correct.

As for Rory himself, he had also been particularly good. For several months now, he had been determined to become a better person. A better man. The sort of man that arrived at work on time, without lipstick smudges on his skin, and took things seriously.

He was still struggling with the last of his three resolutions, but the other two were going well. It was easier to not be late in the morning when you weren’t having to drag yourself out of someone else’s bed, and it was easier not to end up in someone else’s bed when the only person whose bed you wanted to sleep in did not want you to do so.

Ever since the fateful morning that Rory had re-encountered Rylie Hopper-Lee at the Wizarding Wireless Network, he had found himself unable to get his former school friend out of his head: her expressive gestures, her lyrical voice, her sweet and genuine smile. He had made a point of listening to her show each week, smiling throughout each and every broadcast as he marvelled at the way she recited the stories of her travels, making them exciting, funny, and strangely touching in places. He had started to long for the weekends where he would be on air himself, knowing fully well that as soon as he finished McNully’s Quidditch round up, he would be able not only listen to Rylie’s show, but to watch bits of it, too. And then, of course, he’d be able to talk to her directly.

But, much to his disappointment, Rylie was never as interested in talking to him as he was to her. Though she never outwardly told him to leave her alone, she was always polite to the point of near formality, and whenever Rory asked her if she would like to spend time with him outside of their brief rendezvous in the radio station, she declined with a smile on her face and an admonishing look in her eyes. It was the same look that she gave him the morning he had first seen her there, the one that had filled him with such a deep sense of shame at his own behaviour, and it continued to do just that every time he saw it appear in Rylie’s blue eyes.

“Still no luck with Lee, then?” Reva asked, as she and Rory left the training grounds, her ears steaming slightly from the second swig of Pepperup Potion she had taken at the end of practice.

“No. And Dana wrote back to me as well. She’s definitely single,” Rory sighed. “I feel like I’m doing something wrong, but I don’t know what.”

“Maybe she just isn’t interested in you. I know it’s hard for you to believe, but you actually aren’t everyone’s cup of tea.”

“Aye, I know that. But Rylie and I were friends before, and now she doesn’t even want to go for dinner or drinks with me when I invite her.”

Reva frowned. “Is it really just dinner or drinks you’re inviting her for, though?”

“I don’t understand the question.”

“Well, do you ask all the old school mates you bump into to go for dinner or drinks with you?”

“Not all of them, no.”

“And is it really just friendship you want from her?” Reva’s eyebrows raised and she gave Rory a knowing look. He shook his head, and she grinned. “She’s got you all figured out, Tav. Probably the reason she doesn’t want to go out with you is because she doesn’t want to be just another notch in your very well-notched belt.”

“But I don’t want her to be that, either,” Rory said, entirely truthfully. “Okay, so I need to make sure she knows that. Maybe I should buy her flowers or something.”

“Flowers?”

“Aye. I’m on air in a couple of hours, I’ve got time to get her some on the way. Show her I can be, y’know… romantic.”

“Bringing flowers to someone’s workplace is not romantic, McTavish, it’s creepy,” Reva told him. “Especially if she’s already turned down the offer of a date.”

“Do you have any other ideas?”

“Yeah, just be yourself. And don’t be a dick.”

Rory blinked. “Which?”

“Both.”

“I can’t do both!”

Reva laughed loudly, but her smile soon softened.

“Yes, you can,” she said. “Look at it this way. If she doesn’t want to sleep with you - romantically or not - would you be content to just be her friend?”

“Aye. Of course I would.”

“Why don’t you try starting there? Try just being her friend, show her that you like her as a person, like she is. You never know, she might like you for you.”

Rory considered Reva’s words. She made a good point; after all, he did have some friends who were women who he hadn’t slept with. Rylie had been one of those friends once upon a time. Perhaps she would like to be one of them again.

He left Montrose for London with a spring in his step, and having finished recording with McNully, he hung back to listen to Rylie’s show, making sure not to watch her too closely as he did so.

Rylie knew that he was watching, of course. With her back turned to the glass window in the wall of the recording booth, she rolled her eyes and continued to present as she normally would. Or as normally as she could, being all too aware of a pair of eyes - Rory’s eyes, no less - on her as she worked.

He was still outside as she left the recording booth, leaning back against the wall in the corridor opposite as she exited the door, her arms full with a box of artefacts she had to take back to Gringotts before she went home.

“Hello,” she greeted him breezily, not stopping to talk properly.

“Hi, Rylie,” he replied, immediately straightening up and walking by her side. “Great show today.”

“Thanks.”

“I liked last week’s, too.

“You weren’t here last week,” Rylie frowned. She was sure that she would have noticed Rory if he had been there watching. Of course she would, he always made a point of talking to her after, like he was now.

“No, but I was listening. I always listen, every week.”

“You do?”

“Aye, it’s a great show.”

“It’s a kids’ show.”

“Exactly, it’s pitched at just my level,” Rory grinned. “You must remember how useless I was at Ancient Runes. I swear Professor McClarnon only made me Quidditch Captain because he felt sorry for me because of how crap I was at his subject.”

Rylie had to laugh at that. “You were… not the best.”

“That’s an understatement. I’d never have passed my O.W.L. if you hadn’t helped me. You actually managed to make it make sense. That’s why I like listening to your show so much.”

“Thank you.”

“No, thank you. My Acceptable Runes O.W.L. has really helped me with… Actually, I haven’t needed to know anything about Ancient Runes since we took that exam, but I appreciate the help regardless,” Rory frowned and nodded his head at the box Rylie was carrying. “Talking of appreciating help, do you need a hand with that?”

“Oh,” Rylie cradled her box closer to her. “No. I’m just taking this to Gringotts. I’ll be okay.”

“Are you sure? It looks heavy.”

“I am perfectly capable of carrying it by myself.”

“I know you are, but I want to be useful. Makes me feel like I’m doing some good in the world, rather than just chucking a Quaffle around a pitch,” he held out his arms and raised his eyebrows. “Humour me?”

“Very well, then,” not really knowing why, Rylie found herself nodding. “As long as it’s not putting you out of your way.”

“Not at all. I was actually hoping that you’d tell me more about New Zealand.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything that you weren’t allowed to mention on a children’s radio show.”

Rylie laughed, and as she and Rory left the station, she started to tell him more about her New Zealand trip. It had been her favourite of the places she had visited on her travels, and it was nice to tell someone new about her adventures and misadventures. Especially when that person listened to her as attentively as Rory was doing. He made all the right faces, laughed in all the right places, and seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say.

But then, he always had, hadn’t he? He was a charmer, she knew that. She stopped speaking abruptly, cursing herself for falling for his charms.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” asked Rory, eyebrows furrowed in a seemingly genuine concern.

“Nothing, I…” Rylie sighed. “Rory, why are you doing this?”

“I’m helping you take your things to Gringotts.”

“Not just that. Normally by now you’d have asked me out for a drink, or dinner, or… Why are you just talking to me like this?”

“Because I like talking to you,” Rory told her. “You’re nice to talk to.”

Rylie narrowed her eyes at him, trying to tell whether or not he was hiding some ulterior motive for being so friendly.

“I’d forgotten how much I liked to talk to you back when we were at school,” he continued. “You were funny and sweet and interesting. I mean, you still are all those things, I just…” Rory paused, frowning slightly. “Look, I’m sorry if I’ve been coming on a bit strong the last few times we’ve bumped into each other, asking you out and that.”

“That’s okay.”

“It’s not. Honestly, I feel like a total idiot.”

“Just generally or for asking me out?” Rylie asked him.

“Both, sort of,” was Rory’s response. “I just wanted to spend time with you, because I feel like I’ve missed out on spending time with you. And I don’t mean just because of you being in New Zealand and Bavaria-”

“Bolivia.”

“Shit, yes. Bolivia. Monkeys.”

Rylie laughed as Rory took one hand off the box and slammed the heel of it on his forehead.

“See, I told you I’m an idiot,” he grinned, joining in with the joke despite being the butt of it. “But if you are happy having an idiot for a friend, I’d be happy to be that idiot.”

“Sure,” Rylie shrugged. “I’d be happy with that.”

They had reached the marble steps of Gringotts Bank, and across the cobbled streets, a florist’s stall was selling spring flowers. As Rylie took her box of artefacts back from him, her eyes wandered across from Rory’s face to the stall. He frowned and followed her gaze.

“Rylie,” he said, turning back to her with an earnest expression on his face. “I’d like to buy you some flowers. Not to… I just want to apologise for being an idiot, and because, well, I think you deserve to be bought flowers.”

The corners of Rylie’s lips tugged upwards against her will, but she made no effort to stop them. Smiling widely, she nodded her head.

“I would love for you to buy me flowers.”

“What kind?”

“Surprise me.”

Rylie watched as Rory shuffled through the Sunday afternoon crowd to the stall, and returned with a proud smile on his face and a bunch of bright yellow sunflowers in his hand.

“Interesting,” said Rylie, smirking slightly. “Why sunflowers?“

Rory’s face fell slightly. “Do you not like sunflowers?”

“Of course. What sort of person doesn’t like sunflowers?” Rylie giggled. “They’re actually my favourite.”

“I’d like to say that I knew that, but no. They just reminded me of you, that’s all. Because of the yellow and black, like the robes you used to wear for Quidditch. And because they like the sunshine, and you are a bit like sunshine,” Rory stopped and winced before clearing his throat awkwardly. “Uh, can you forget that I just said that last sentence? It sounded a lot less weird inside my head.”

“What last sentence?” asked Rylie, biting her lip to hold back a fresh wave of laughter. “Thank you, Rory. They’re beautiful.”

“So… You’re welcome.”

“Well, I should…”

“Of course. I’ll let you get on,” Rory stepped backwards away from her. “See you next time, Rylie.”

“See you next time,” she replied, turning away from him and starting to climb the stairs. She took three steps before pausing, turning around, and calling back to him. “Rory?”

“Aye?”

“You know, if you did want to ask me out sometime, I wouldn’t mind.”

Rory frowned. “If I did, would you say yes?”

“Not necessarily.”

“So, would you say no?”

“Not necessarily.”

Rylie smiled mischievously before turning and leaving Rory to watch her walk away from him, sunflowers resting in the crook of her elbow and the sunlight shining on her hair, just as the first few drops of water started to fall from the sky.

#rory mctavish #Rylie hopper Lee #rorylie #magic awakened #reva amari #erika rath #hogwarts: spring break 2022

[ktheist]

you can sit with us. | m

pairings. taehyung x reader x jungkook

genre. slice of life

words. 5.7k

warnings. explicit content, semi-public sex, threesome (obviously), everyone’s a switch at this point, but top!jungkook, big dick!tae, big dick!jungkook, discussions of sexuality

synopsis. the person frowns, confusion clearly painted on his face, “how can you be dating two people at once and those two people date each other while dating you?”

“it’s cause we’re a thruple - like a couple but with three people.”

x

the first time you met jeon jungkook and kim taehyung was at a bar downtown. you’d bumped into the tall, dark haired man at the bar who was in the middle of turning around after what seemed to be a reminder for the bartender to serve him and his companion at “table 6.”

“oh sorry,” you find yourself saying to a broad chest before letting your eyes travel up past the gentle protrusion of his adam’s apple and finally his beautiful, mesmerizing eyes but it was the sweet, tender smile that gets you clenching your hands together in hopes to stop them from coming up to fan yourself, “oh there you are! wow, you’re tall!”

the sound of his chuckle was music to your ears, “i get that a lot - have a good one,” with a good natured nod and a parting farewell, he disappeared into the crowd.

you knocked on the counter, fixing the bartender a smile, “hi,” your half buzzed smile dragged out the word into something that might or might be interpreted the wrong way, especially considering where you were but when she smirked at you, you knew this one was going to be on the house, “oh, your teeth are so pretty!”

“thanks, baby, what can i get you?” as self-assured as she was, she still steered the conversation back to the reason you’re there, butt half sitting on the stool and arms propped over the counter, leaning a little too close than one should.

“oh!” you gasped as though you’d just remembered something, “can i have a bloody mary, please?”

“sure thing, sweets,” she winked and you giggled.

the whole time she was preparing your order, she’d kept her eyes on you and you were a giggling mess, eyes of stars staring at the way her nimble hands did their work up till the moment she slid it over to you with a, “it’s on the house.”

“oh my god, thank you!” a pause in the moment and a linger of gaze later, you were pushing the piece of paper with a sequence of numbers into your bra.

there was skip to your step as you made your way over to what was supposed to be a booth that you booked with your friends - who, in the short span of time managed to get their of companions for the night and consequently left no space for you to even sit.

so you stood there, not knowing how much time passed, with your jaws on the ground and the bloody mary held midair. completely frozen in place.

that was, until the handsome stranger beckoned you over from two seats away. he only had one other person with him. if his hair was dark, his companion’s was jet black, “hey, you can sit with us.”

with a dry sniffle, you’d marched way over. a stomp in your steps and a huff as you plopped down across from him and his companion. he’d introduced himself as taehyung and his companion, jungkook. and you had, forgetting everything about your untasteful encounter, brightly announced your name, “thanks so much for letting me sit with you guys,” you gushed, “me and my girlfriends made a promise that we’d never let any man or woman get in our way of girl’s night,” with an face full of dissatisfaction and an exhalation, you continued, “but guess that plan went out of the window.”

“is this your first time? don’t think we’ve seen you before,” jungkook’s voice, if there existed a word to sum up how to describe it, it would be melodic. a hymn of the heavens in the body of a man - a very beautiful man at that.

“no but this is my second time,” and halfway-drunk you had no filter or any sense of shutting the fuck up before you shared too much to strangers, you went on about how “a girl i was sorta a thing with brought me here,” you and her clearly didn’t work out because, otherwise why would you be here with, “so my girlfriends wanted to go to a gay bar and thought why not bring them here, right?” you scoffed, remembering the sisterhood promise made just a few hours ago, “wrong - they ditched me as soon as they saw the only few straight men here.”

that seemed to bring a rise of chuckle from taehyung and a mixture of a chuckle and a scoff from jungkook. for the rest of the night, you drank and did shots and danced on the floor - the two of them seemed a tad bit protective over you, especially when a man got too close. they weren’t looking for any because, “so how long have you guys been dating?”

“we’ve known each other for seven years and we’ve been dating for-” jungkook began before taehyung chirped in, “two years.”

“oh my god, you guys finish each other’s sentences,” you cooed, vision blurred but still somewhat able to process the information that went through your ears “goals.”

so they had no reason to let anyone else come into your little circle of three on top of the very obvious fact that you were too far gone to even consent to even a dance with any man or woman.

you remembered your friends, some time into the night, finding you and thanking the two men for looking out for you before they dragged you out with them. neither of them actually went home with anyone but it still didn’t stop you from holding a vendetta against them because, “girls, we made a sacred promise and you broke it!”

they’d bribed you with ice cream and sushi and you were a puddle of delighted jelly by the time you all walked out of the sushi place.

it was a month later that you’d returned to the bar, decked in your best curve-hugging skin-tight dress. this time, you were alone.

the plan to earn brownie points from the bartender fell through when you found out that she was quit a few days ago and the employer refused to give you any details about her - even her number to you because you’d regrettably got it wet beyond repair after dumping the clothes you’d worn that night into the washer before going to bed and setting the laundry to wash the next morning, forgetting the treasure that you’d gained the night before.

with shoulders sagged and a mournful pout, you’d walked over to one of those two-people tables, hoping to get a beer in a leave. but then they were there, sitting at the same table, beckoning you over like the good overnight friends that they were.

“what’s with the long face, sweetie?” taehyung pouted, eyebrows knitting together as he shot you the prettiest puppy eye to which made you giggle in response.

so you’d told them about how you’d fucked up with one of the cutest girl you’d seen in ages. “ugh, i hate when that happens,” jungkook made an over exaggerated eyeroll, probably to cheer you up which partially worked.

until you three decided to dance again with taehyung holding your hand up as you twirled around like a princess in red. when it’s jungkook’s turn to twirl, he had to bend his knees and gradually make a full circle in an awkward way but still ended with a hair flip.

and so it went, a friendship of mutuality and overflowing gayness. you’d become eating buddies who travelled all over seoul for the best foodplace that’s ever been reviewed. had stay overs when you’d driven out of town and back to their place. went to the bar every so often which they’d taken up the task of being your wingmen.

they succeeded in their jobs a few times. but the girls you’d slept with never stayed and you never thought of proceeding to reach out beyond a one nightstand. because you were young and they were sweet but you didn’t think a relationship of trust and confidence could ever spawn from meetings at bars and spurred into a hot, passionate romance that simmered into ashes the next day.

“i don’t know you guys,” you sigh, “i think i’m done with girls.”

“oh no,” taehyung looks genuinely mortified while jungkook shakes his head “a loss for the gays and girls” and you giggle-  never a dull moment with these two.

“i’m not saying i’m done done but it’s been awhile since i’ve sucked a dick, you know?” and with friendship came honesty and the comfortableness of saying things for what it is without being judged for it.

“oh don’t we know,” jungkook snickers, while taehyung shoots him a look - he’d always been the shy one between the two. the younger man goes in for a kiss, to which the elder accepts, meeting him halfway.

and all of it only makes you a tad bit lonely as you scan the crowd. some gorgeous beings catches your eye and you’d like to think you caught theirs too but instead of the gentle and loving affection you’d seen between the two men, their eyes were sparked with lust and passion. like nymphs of the night who’d leave you high and dry once they got what they wanted.

so you left to get a drink at the bar, ordering a shot of jeager in hopes of drinking away the creeping hollowness that begins to fill the lonely parts of your heart. several shots in and you’re tumbling over to your two friends who seem to be have taken things up several notches after your leave. with taehyung on top of jungkook and the first not so shy anymore to let out unrestrained moans as his younger other half laps on his neck.

you’re halfway drowned into your own little world and probably will be going home with them and crashing in that spare bedroom you’ve started calling your part time bedroom.

until you lock eyes with jungkook. his lower face buried in taehyung’s shoulder while the latter pauses, glancing over to you as though just remembering that you were there. still having the sense to lift an inquisitive eyebrow, you do so with a, “oh don’t mind me, i’m just happy that you guys are getting some tonight.”

“you know,” jungkook pauses, letting the seconds trickle on like the droplets of on the wall of the glass before it hits the surface of the table, “you wanted to suck a dick, right? welll we’ve got dicks.”

it takes you a long winded, painful moment to digest his words. another to let out a mixture of a chuckle and a scoff as if to say, “you’re kidding...” but the “...right?” comes a second too late. a second too hopeful.

and that’s how you end up in the washroom - you’re not quite sure if it’s the men or women’s but you’re surprised that it could fit three adults in one tiny cubicle. but the matter of how to suck whose dick was an entirely different problem.

“shit ___, your elbow’s in my stomach,” jungkook hisses in a muted whisper, his hand on your hip, no doubt the culprit of your ridden up dress until your cotton panties are out in the open.

“fuck, jungkook, move over, i can’t reach tae’s dick,” you grumble out, the aforementioned man’s hardened dick in your hand but the space not allowing you to even crouch in front of him as he sat on the toilet whilst jungkook stood behind you.

“will someone just suck my dick?” the latter sighs just as he throbs in your hand.

“wait,” jungkook says, earning a dissatisfied groan from you and his boyfriend but before either of you can say anything, he’s turning you around, hands guiding your hips, “tae, push her panties down.”

almost as though controlled by an invisible force, the man’s hands are quick to get those baby pink panties down until they’re hanging around your ankles.

“hey wait wait wait!” you repeat like a mantra as you feel jungkook’s hands guiding you down onto taehyung’s lap which, if you remember correctly, was sporting a protruding hardness in between.

“oh fuck,” yes, you’d just confirmed that an extremely erected and extravagantly lively dick is excitingly welcoming you with the way it’s jolting against your lower lips.

“oh my god,” taehyung moans, hands on the curve of your hips as he gently lowers you onto him until he’s fully inside you.

“that’s nice that you two are enjoying yourselves but - remember i’m the one that made this work,” a voice says before a hand wraps around your wrist, guiding it to a similarly throbbing hardness but of a lesser length than taehyung’s to which you soon realize that he makes it up with his girth.

“someone’s jealous,” the person behind you snickers - you have half a mind to join in on the teasing if it isn’t for your hips and knees focusing on keeping up your weight whilst you hand strokes the length in front of you, mouth lapping on his tip.

“shut up and kiss me, pretty boy,” you can almost hear the eye roll from jungkook’s voice as the tip of your nose hits his pelvic, mouth stretching wider as his leans over you, possibly to lock lips with the man he vindictive but lovingly complimented.

and so it goes, your first dick - two actually - after a long while. needless to say, you come out flushed and walking silly but both men had their hands around the opposite hip from the side they’re standing beside. it helps you hold yourself up at least until you’re in their car, switching from sticking your tongue in taehyung’s throat to jungkook’s when he stops at a red light. body stretching over the leg space between the passenger seat and the back of the driver’s seat, his neck probably hurting from having to crane around until he reaches your lips whilst taehyung’s keeps himself busy with a hand under your panties. teasing, rubbing your pleasure nub just above your lips until you’re soaking by the time the car rolled to a stop in their parking lot.

“scoot over,” jungkook instructs, unbuckling his seatbelt, “we really need to normalize waiting for the third person to finish doing whatever they were doing before deciding to fuck in the back seat of the car while they’re driving.”

“can i have your mouth, sweetie?” taehyung announces, sending waves of excitement down your core as you feel yourself clench in anticipation.

there’s just something about how they manhandle you - your hips particularly as taehyung lifts you up and slides away to the right of the car and setting you down like a little doll, hand pushing down his pants and letting his erection shoot up like a roly poly.

“great cause i want her pussy,” jungkook’s displeased tone is replaced by a breathy agreement.

and just like his other half, he’s making you stand on your knees, body bent over taehyung until his dick is in your face, oozing with precum.

“tae baby, at this point, you don’t even have to ask,” you fix him a smirk, savoring the way his eyes darken with a sort of godless desire as you lap at his tip like you would a lollipop.

the second time around, you’re much better at focusing on what’s in front of you despite the other length filling you up balls deep.

you’re not sure when you’d stopped or what time you fell asleep. but all you knew, you were sore and full by the time you were drifting between the waking world and the dream world.

the morning when you woke up, it’s been because of the way the bed shook like an earthquake was wrecking up the room. an earthquake that moaned, “deeper, jungkook, oh fuck.”

the sight before you has you clenching your thighs together but at the same time, the giggle that left your lips is what causes heads to turn and eyes to focus on you.

“did we wake you up, sweetie? i’m so sorry,” taehyung is the first to worry, “oh yes-” but that worry subsides when jungkook starts moving again, skin slapping skin.

but the elder isn’t quite ready to give up just yet, “we wanted to wait for you to- ah - get up - fuck - oh,” he whimpers, burying his face into the mattress before peeking at you with eyebrows knitting together, “when we were talking about l-last night, we - we couldn’t help ourselves.”

“don’t worry about me, i had plenty of dick to go for at least a whole month,” you stare at taehyung’s pinked lips for the briefest moment before searching his eyes, feeling a sudden heat rise to your cheeks when you notice he’d caught the lingering stare - last night was fun but all three of you were buzzed and possibly horny as hell, you’re not so sure if a kiss would be welcomed by either of them now that you’re all sober and awake.

“i’m gonna go shower,” you announce, throwing your feet over the edge of the bed, the sound of your padding steps drowned by their pleasured moans.

the hot shower helps ease the knots in your muscles and calm your mind - or at least partially. the sight of the two boyfriends shamelessly fucking in front of your eyes still plays at the back of your mind like a graphic scene. and so you find yourself caressing your hardened nipples, your free hand snaking down between your legs as a whimper escapes your mouth. almost as though anything louder, and the whole world would know what you’re doing.

“what? you’re touching yourself?” a melodic but dangerous voice reverberates against the wall and cuts through the sound of running shower.

before you can even call out - ask who it is even though it’s obvious whose voice it belongs to, the curtain is torn open, revealing a sculpted god - you didn’t notice last night because it was dark but even then you’d known those strong arms that held you must be hiding something else underneath those layer of clothes.

“oh, hey, tae - the bathroom’s kinda oc-” you were about to ask what he was doing because the bathroom was obviously occupied - besides the fact that it’s the guest room’s bedroom and the main bedroom had their own bathroom - but before you can, a pair of arms are pulling you against another body. muscular and deliciously built but exceptionally predatory.

“you weren’t gonna come without us, are you?” taehyung’s crestfallen expression is all you see. his downturned lips and puckered lips being your weakness.

“y-you guys were busy, so i-” your words are cut short when you feel the coldness of a breath against you damp ear, “uh-uh, who said we were?” jungkook’s teasing denial is what makes you clench your legs together, only for them to be pried open by the dark haired man who’s fallen to his knees right in front of you.

“tae!” you shriek, caught by surprised at the sudden lost of balance as he hooks one leg over his shoulder whilst your hand claws onto jungkook’s arms that’s banded over your chest for a sort of leviation.

“shhh,” jungkook hums in your ears, as though to say ‘we’d never let you fall’.

but you didn’t fall and taehyung’s looking at you with the prettiest eyes, “what? you said i didn’t have to ask, right?”

“n-no,” the heat comes on full force - all of a sudden, the hot water trickling down your bodies aren’t even remotely sufficient to keep you warm, “you don’t have to.”

and so it goes, your many firsts within the short span of less than 24 hours, spurred by the two wonderful souls you never thought you’d come to know so closely within the duration of your friendship.

you waited with nothing but a towel around your body until jungkook knocked on the door, a folded set of clothes in hand.

“oh hey thanks - don’t know what i’d do if i had to walk in the streets in fishnets and flashy red dress,” you force out a chuckle, cheeks heating up as you swipe the clothes off his hands in a blink of an eye. to which he heaves out a sigh, but the smile on his lips tells you that he’s all but angry.

“hey, i know what went on in the last few hours was crazy,” he starts, sounding uncannily casual about it, “but we don’t want this to get in the way of what we’ve built - can we talk about this over breakfast? tae’s making it now but- i mean, if you want to, of course.”

and that’s when you finally let the walls come tumbling down. standing there bare - quite literally - with your chest washed off its initial worries, “honestly, i’d really like that.”

“perfect,” the brightest smile lights up on his face and for a moment, you thought everything went back to normal. back when all three of you are hanging out and joking about the littlest things one of you realized and pointed out to the other two.

“oh and,” jungkook tilts his head to the side, “sorry if i was rude or anything last night,” he quickly adds, “and just now - i tend to be like that during sex.”

“oh,” is all that follows your response, thoughts running around before you can actually reach out one by one to process it - so single celled brain goes, “i kind of like that side of you, actually.”

“really?” there it goes the smile that could quite literally blind you as his shoulders visibly sags, “tae hates it when i boss him around - thank god that’s not the majority opinion from now on.”

“from now on?” you echo his words but before you can interrogate him some more, he’s out of the door and yelling for you to come to the kitchen when you’re done putting on the clothes.

so you find yourself sitting in front of the two boyfriend whom you’ve spend quite a night knowing. they’re gazing at you with eyes that can’t stop squinting into crescents and smile that can’t stop smiling.

“okay should i tell or you?” taehyung turns to the darker haired male, their hands that are twined together moving towards the man he’s pointing.

“how about together?” jungkook suggests, a glint in his eyes that makes you stare, wide eyed and unblinking. pancake lying cold and uneaten as you wait with bated breath, “...tell me what?”

before you can even finish your words, the two bursts out in exclamation, “we like you.”

taehyung’s is a bit more excited while jungkook’s is a tad bit reserved.

“i like you guys too!” you declare, hands clapping together in excitement.

“oh my god, you do?” taehyung squeals, bringing his free hand and the one he has twined with jungkook to his heart.

“don’t i?” you make a ridiculous sound, hand waving away the ludicrosity of the possibility of you saying otherwise, “i’m glad we get to put last night behind us and still be friends.”

“i don’t think she gets it,” jungkook says a whole heartbeat later whilst taehyung’s upturned lips gradually but surely falls.

“what?” your eyes flit between the two, as if trying to spot the thing you seem to obviously miss.

“sweetie,” taehyung reaches his hand to you, to which you gladly accept before jungkook does the same with his other hand and you similarly meet halfway over the table “we like like you,” the taller man emphasizes.

it takes you a moment to digest his words. another to squint your eyes at them with a ‘okay where’s the punchline?’ kind of smile. and one last moment for it to sink in, “i thought you guys were gay and last night and this morning was a mistake?”

“i thought so too,” taehyung is the first to break the bond, his free hand coming to his chest, bent in a 90 degrees angle, “but i’ve had girl crushes and they went away after i met jungkook so i thought they were just me being in denial of my sexuality but i like spending time with you and jungkook,” he slips his large hand into yours that stays frozen on the table where he’d left it, his thumb caressing your knuckles, “i like the way you smile, the way you’d team up with me to tease jungkook,” that receives a snort from the man in question, “the way you’re always so supportive and optimistic- i just - i like you.”

“well, what he said except i like everything he’s not about you,” jungkook simply says, “and unlike him, i know i’m bi.”

“and we want you to be a part of this wonderful, beautiful, delightful relationship,” taehyung adds, fixing you the most tender smile as he gazes at you as though he’s never seen such a magnificent creature before.

“i mean...” you breathe out, a sea of emotions crashing against your chest before you finally say, “this is a lot to take in guys. i don’t know what to say - i think i need some time for myself.”

“oh,” it’s the way taehyung seems like he has more to say, the way his smile is completely replaced with a hesitant flat line and the way jungkook lets go of their twined hands to rub the elder man’s back.

“it’s okay, take your time,” he says, and you shoot him a grateful but awkward smile before taking your things and leaving through the door. unsure of whether you’ll ever return. whether you’ll ever laugh about the stupidity of bravely idiotic characters in horror movies again. whether you’ll ever huddle in the kitchen trying to cook dinner for three again. whether those peaceful days will ever be yours again depending on your own choices.

days go by and then one week and then two and you’ve confided in at least two people whose reactions are similarly perturbed by what you’ve told them until you’ve concluded that nobody will truly understand the confusion and frustration and jitters that courses through your veins when you think about the two charming but glaringly different ends of the spectrum men.

one is like the blue sky, bright yet vast and a trove of never ending possibilities while the other is like the midnight sky, decked with fleeting moments of vulnerability and endless mystery. but both, you’ve come to realize, are the reasons your view of the world has changed for the better. made your days a little more worth looking forward to. and it’s exiting and daunting all at once because the people you’ve confided in have expressed their concerns and dissertation of what they think hides behind the veils of normality. a box they’re not so used to stepping out of and deems those beyond the cardboards uncommon. foreign. unknown.

and truthfully, you’ve already decided what you want - know what you want to do on your way back that day after you’d made a beeline for the door. and as you stand in front of the same door, sniffling from the remnants of your fight with your parents after your sister - one of the people you’d confided in - deliberately told them about what she thinks - and she thought right - you’re about to do.

two rings later, you’re staring at a face of an angel. doe eyes hiding behind jet black locks widening as the sight of you hits him like a brick.

“____, hey, it’s okay,” jungkook says in the softest voice as he gathers you in his arms like an old cardigan.

“baby, who’s at the door?” comes the loud but smooth baritone a minute later.

he must have seen himself - who their uninvited guest is as silence settles in between all three of you before taehyung’s coos, “oh, sweetie.”

it’s only after an hour of ice cream and watching friends and the two boyfriends wrapping you up in a burrito blanket that you blanket do you spill the beans on why you showed up at their door at 11 in the evening, looking like a mess they never ordered.

your parents are livid. they think this isn’t real - that you’re being delusional and that both taehyung and jungkook were messing with you. it was the slander on the two soul’s names that has you unleashing the words you’d never thought you’d say to your own parents.

“i can take liking girls. that’s fine - but a relationship of three?” your father had stood in front of you, fingers pointing at his head as he spat out, “are you crazy?”

the family dinner had turned into a family quarrel. and your sister had been caught up in between - she’d wanted you too see the ludicrosity of it all and if not her, then maybe you’d listened to your parents.

and listened you did.

like a time bomb surrounded with dynamites, you’d eventually exploded. anything you say would never get through the and anything they said, you’d taken negatively.

so you took the cab straight to taehyung and jungkook’s.

“i just - it hurts because they won’t accept you guys and that means they’re rejecting me,” you sniffle, “i’m sorry i took so long.”

“hey, it’s okay, you’re with us now,” jungkook gathers you in lap whilst taehyung wraps his arms around the both of you from your other side, “yeah, cry all you want sweetie, we’re here for you.”

you wake up the next morning huddled up in a king sized bed with the two men on either side of you, almost like a knights protecting their princess as she slept like a baby after crying her eyes out for another half hour. your legs are tangled together, a pair of mismatched hands on your stomach while a snore resounds from your left where taehyung is sleeping like a beauty and jungkook on your right like an angel.

and for the first time in a long time, that hollowness in your chest cowers away in the light of the day that seeps through the blinds, painting paralleled shadows over your skin.

“i love you,” you whisper, looking between their two peacefully sleeping faces.

x

“hey, beautiful, you come here often?” a gruff voice reverberates in your ears just as you’ve placed the order for you and-

“yeah, with my boyfriends,” you shoot him a polite smile before attempting to slip past him and the stools you’re trapped in between but before you can even manage to move, he inches closer.

it’s been a year since you’ve been dating taehyung and jungkook. eight months since you’ve decided to move in with them for good. your parents reached out to you two months ago after declaring your banishment from ever stepping in their property let alone attend family dinners and gatherings. your relatives have all heard about your unusual but not unreal relationship and so have taehyung’s and jungkook’s families.

opposition still rises from both sides of the families’ distant relatives. it’s not too far off from yours.

“oh, you mean how girls call their lady friends girlfriends,” a lecherous grin forms on his face, “i get it.”

“no,” you hiss, needles of annoyance getting to you earlier tonight than most nights, “i mean my boyfriends who i’m dating.”

the person frowns, confusion clearly painted in his face, “how can you be dating two people at once and those two people date each other while dating you?” he doesn’t even wait for your response as he takes a step back, “a simple ‘no’ could’ve done the trick, you think you’re better than me?”

“it’s cause we’re a thruple - like a couple but with three people,” you tilt your head to the side just the slightest bit, seeing him in a different but not any more attractive angle, “and honey, i know i’m better than you.”

and with that, you raise a challenging brow, daring him to say otherwise just as a smooth but deadly voice calls for you, “____, you were taking so long so we decided to check on you, is everything okay, sweetie?”

“hey man, what business do you have with our girlfriend?” jungkook lifts an eyebrow in a similar fashion as you as he glares down at the man who’s at least a few inches short.

“you-” the man steals a petrified glance at you as the realization sinks in his eyes but before he can say anything, you strut in between the two men, smirking when one of their arms snake around your waist in a possessive nature.

“nope,” you say simply, “shorty here was just leaving, weren’t you?”

he mumbles out something incoherent, between a ‘liar’ and ‘rude’ before scurrying away and out into another part of the bar until you can no longer see him.

“thanks for having my back, babes,” you stand on your tip toe only to have taehyung chuckle, bending over until your lips press his before doing the same to jungkook, “baby,” and the two sharing a kiss together a heartbeat later.

“let’s dance!” you grab their hands and begin to drag them to the dance floor which does nothing if they hadn’t move themselves and they know it too as they laugh, the taller men patting your hair gently because he knows how long you worked on it.

“our girlfriend is so cute, isn’t she?”

jungkook pushes taehyung’s hands away only to ruffle the top of your hair despite your protest, “sure is.”

“my hair!” you lament, “babes, baby messed up my hair!”

you tug on your boyfriend’s sleeve, the man looking between you and his boyfriend, unsure of whether to be the pacifier or the scolder. in the end, he goes in for a kiss on your pouted lips, “you look beautiful either way, sweetie.”

“oh my god, it’s ruined, isn’t it?” you question, eyes filling with dread.

the culprit has the gal to laugh at your predicament until you announce your choice of dance partner being your taller boyfriend for the rest of the night and him not exactly opposing it whilst jungkook is left to trail behind you until he catches up between you, arms around your waist and taehyung’s, “okay, okay, sorry - i’ll make it up to both of you later tonight!”

at that bold yet careless exclamation, you look at taehyung, only to see the corners of his lips lifting into a devious smirk similar to yours.

“it’s been awhile since we took out the whip, hasn’t it?”

#jungkook #taehyung #bts #jeon jungkook fanfic #kim taehyung fanfic #kim taehyung smut #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook scenario #bts scenario #bts smut #jungkook smut #taehyung smut #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader #bts scenarios #taehyung scenarios #jungkook scenarios

[valhallasubstitute]

Sweet Like Berries

Sihtric x Reader x Finan

After a particularly warm start to the year, you and your boys decide to enjoy natures early gifts.

A/N: been a hot minute since I’ve written anything, so hot in fact I think its gone cold. Honestly the love my writing has been getting has been crazy lately, I really appreciate it, more than youse will ever know. Uni is slowing down again and my fingers are starting to twitch so hopefully fic posting will become a little more regular <3 

WARNINGS: None, v fluffy maybe a little flirty

WC:1228

Tags: @flowers-in-your-hayr @geekandbooknerd @mariaenchanted

 The chill of winter faded two months before it was meant to. Snowdrops and crocuses littering the path along the river and the extra furs on your bed slowly becoming too much. The old women of Coccham would scold anyone who seemed to bask in it, this seemingly summer sun. It would never last, they said, and the pleasant weather would affect the growth of the crops in the months to come.

Finan would scoff at them, tease them for their pessimism until a smile graced their wrinkled faces. He would charm them into letting their pleading grandchildren swim in the river and their husbands drink in the alehouse as the sun set.

He would smile at them with the warmth of the sun in his eyes and for a moment they would forget about their woes.

Sihtric was more superstitious, he would laugh with Finan, but he couldn’t help but glance at the fields surrounding the estate. He was hesitant to let you pack away the blankets and give up his cloak but the sight of you on that March morning made all his doubts melt away.

You had decided to forgo your usual winter attire, a linen dress hugging your hips as you stood, barefoot, arranging freshly picked daffodils at the kitchen table. You were chatting with Finan, slapping his hand lightly as he tried to tweak your flower arrangement.

It was obvious to Sihtric how in love Finan was with you, it was all in the little looks. The ones where he thought you weren’t looking, so filled with love and adoration and respect that Sihtric couldn’t even tease him about it.

As if he was any different. The Dane walked over to you with quiet footsteps and the moment he wrapped his arms around you he felt at home. Safe and relaxed, his shoulders slumped, and he became lost in the way melted into him, twisting to peck his cheek before continuing your conversation with your other lover.

His hands slowly stared to travel from your waist to your hips and back up again, ghosting over the shape of your body. You smelt good too, like the lavender that grew outside your little house and the incense that burned inside the tiny church. He couldn’t help but press his lips to the hollow of your neck.

‘So, what do you think Sihtric, do you think it’s a good idea?’ Your voice snapped him out of the trance, his face turning a soft pink at being caught, the question completely lost on him.

‘Ask him again my love, he’s been training all morning.’ You watched Finan’s smile turn into a smirk, leaning back in his chair as you felt heat radiate from behind you.

Twisting in his arms, you brought your lips to Sihtric’s in a quick kiss, you bit back a smile as he chased the touch.

‘As I was saying, I think the berries that grow near the clearing are ripe, since it’s not too late we should go pick them. Just the three of us, what do you think?’

‘I’ll go if you kiss me again.’ You hummed in response; eyebrows raised in consideration as the Dane winked at his friend.

‘Finan didn’t try to barter.’

‘Then Finan is missing out.’ The sound of the Irishman’s laughter filled tour ears as you brought your lips together, nipping at his bottom lip as penance for his cheek.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

The clearing was empty, and the strawberries were ripe. Your basket had been filled quickly with fruit and other foraged items with absolutely no help from the men you loved. Instead, they had taken to stealing kisses from you and playfighting with each other. You watched as Sihtric tumbled to the ground, having tripped on Finans outstretched foot. The Danes laughter was the only sign of him as his body disappeared into the long grass.

‘Finan!’

‘He’s fine, he’s fine. It’s you, you should be worried about.’ The man before you practically glowed with mischief, deep brown eyes narrowing as he started to walk towards you with outstretched hands and a smile that you knew all too well.

‘Finan no, you’ll make me drop the basket.’ You were already on the verge of laughter, your feet taking you backwards and your grip already tightening on the handle.

‘Then don’t resist my love.’ You bit your lip in response, eyes daring as Sihtric hollered from the sea of green and wildflowers for Finan to bring you to him.

Darting between the trees you knew you would bever be able to outrun him and nor did you want to, but there was something thrilling about the chase. Maybe it was the way he half growled as your dress slipped through his fingers or the way your heart hammered, and lungs ached, or maybe it was how Finan’s eyes never strayed from your legs and arse or the way Sihtric drank in the sight of you as you ran towards him, eyes almost black with joy and want.

You slowed just enough that Sihtric’s grip on your arm didn’t come as a shock and your subsequent fall to the ground didn’t hurt. You landed on his firm chest, struggling to breathe as he attacked your face with little kisses. As you struggled to wiggle from his grasp, two large hands lifted you into the air and a warm voice sounded in your ear.

‘Gotcha.’

Finan lowered you down with little grace but all the care in the world, his lips attacking you the same way Sihtric’s had. You rolled off of the Irishman with ease, your voice lost in breathless giggles. At last, you placed the basket down, pleased to see little to no damage had been done to your findings.

Rolling onto your back you laid between the two halves of your heart. Your head resting against Sihtric’s shoulder while you played with Finan’s fingers, smiling softly as he interlocked them. You could have stayed like that forever – the sun shining, the smell of grass, and flowers and your boys surrounding you, it was heaven.  You closed your eyes, trying to commit every smell, every touch to memory.

When you opened your eyes, a strawberry was hanging in front of you. Finan lowered the fruit into your mouth, its juices sweet and cool on you tongue. The taste was mouth watering and godly in comparison to the constant stream of stew you had to eat during the winter. As you savoured the taste your eyes moved to Sihtric, enjoying the way he licked his lips before helping himself to a handful of berries.

Finan turned your attention back to him as he swiped the berry juice from your bottom lip with his thumb. He tasted the juice from his finger with a hum, eyes closing briefly in appreciation. Before he could open them, you leaned forward, unable to help yourself, as you crashed your lips into his. Without missing a beat Finans mouth moved expertly against yours, humming once more as he brought his hand to the side of your face.

Once you parted for air, Sihtric shuffled closer to you, his hand finding your hip.

‘How does she taste?’ Finan’s smile spread as he looked from his friend to you.

‘Sweet like always, sweet like berries, you should have a taste.’

You couldn’t agree fast enough.

#finan x reader #sihtric x reader #finan x reader x sihtric #tlk finan #tlk sihtric #tlk fanfic #inga writes

[harrenhalyuri]

for us, the wounds kissed long before the lips

23rd of Sun's Dawn, 1E 461, Alessian Empire.

During the coronation of Emperor Gorieus, the Hortator and the head of House Dagoth steal a moment for themselves.

tags: drinking & talking; angst; one-sided relationship; attempt at worldbuilding

ao3 version here

They stumbled forward laughing and shushing one another as the heavy oak doors closed behind them - the warmth and merry of the coronation feast left behind as the two stepped out into the garden.

Nerevar recalled walking the streets of Nirnbuldihr - the cyan glow of the giant mushrooms reflecting on the windows of several shops. One in particular caught his eye, and he crossed the cobblestone sidewalk to inspect it more closely. Blown glass sculptures, colorful and intricate in the way the dwemer favored.

His favorite had been a piece hidden in the back of the window, as if outshined by more complex, elaborate pieces upfront. It had been a white glass diorama, depicting a cottage surrounded by trees swaying in the breeze - the sort of simplicity the dwemer had no interest in.

The garden reminded him of that diorama - covered in a blanket of snow, completely undisturbed by the world around it.

Voryn pulled him under the arches that covered the path to the guest wing, but the Hortator held him back.

“No, let us stay for a bit.” He answered, arm still draped around the back of his friend’s neck as he stepped on the soft snow. Voryn sighed, yet allowed Nerevar to lead him.

“Frolicking amidst the cold? Do you plan on inviting the Nords to join us?” The head of House Dagoth said snidely as he crossed his arms to warm himself.

Nerevar laughed and shoved him away.

“The snow never belonged to those s’wits, you’re simply thin-blooded from living under the shadow of a volcano.”

“Perhaps, and rightly so.”

The snow softly crunched under their boots as they wandered near a tree - now completely stripped of leaves, its gnarled branches seemed to reach towards the sky.

“It always snows in Akamora.” Nerevar inhaled deeply, enjoying how his lungs burned as he took in the crisp, cool air. “In the mountains, at least. The paths are sharp and winding, and it freezes over during winter. No caravans may come or go, not until Sun’s Dawn.”  

The Hortator grabbed a handful of snow, the ice leeching the warmth of his skin through the kagouti leather gloves. Absent-mindedly he shaped it until a white sphere rested on his palm. Secunda and Masser bore down on them - the moon glow glinting on the high windows of Skingrad’s castle.

Nerevar recalled the moon glow glinting on the tip of ice spikes, sharp enough to be spears, at the highest peak of Akamora.

Azura had come to him then, for the first time, to bestow Moon-and-Star upon the captain - his fingers had been so stiff from the cold that he could barely feel them anymore, the goddess’s touch as foreign as the ring she had slipped on his finger.

When he came down from the mountain, the first ashlanders had hailed him Hortator, and it had felt just as foreign as the ring on his finger.  

“It must be rather grim.” Voryn commented, the cyrodilic brandy swirling inside the bottle as he brought it to his lips. The distaste in his face was plain to see - it couldn’t hold a candle to the Dagoth brandy.  

Nerevar smiled, his short-lived melancholia forgotten.

“How can you say that? Short-tempered caravan masters, cheap mazte and all the comforts of a straw bed...” The captain delighted at Voryn’s growing distaste as he spoke. The head of House Dagoth was a creature of comfort and status, something that had made the duo different as the sun and the moon.    

"Lovely, I'm sure." Voryn replied with a sour expression. Nerevar laughed.

"For a researcher, you spent far too much time cocooned up in Kogoruhn." The Hortator recalled several jars containing fungi species and creatures preserved in a strong alcoholic solution, one more outlandish than the other. In his curiosity, the captain had pestered Voryn with questions until he nearly dropped one of the jars. The head of House Dagoth had snapped at him to stop before he accidentally unleashed a deadly plague and got them both killed.

That had been many years ago, before the war, when Nerevar was still seeking support from the great houses. The somber, willowy lord that had greeted him in Kogoruhn had been the first to join him - his support had been won easily, but his friendship had not.  

"And due to that, couriers are eternally indebted to House Dagoth. Why would I waste my precious time wandering through mud in a thrice-damned swamp?” The councilor huffed, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

Nerevar laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement.

“And what if your Hortator commanded you to?”

The previous distaste vanished in a second as the sharp, haughty aristocratic features softened; the ruby-colored gaze meeting his, warm as the liquor sloshing inside the bottle.

“I’d wander until time itself ceased to be if Muthsera willed so.” Despite the devotion, the lord councilor had steel in his voice; unwavering as the very core of Nirn.

Nerevar let the snow sphere fall to the ground, the reverence in those words overwhelming as he broke his gaze away, before joining the councilor on the stone bench. The orange glow of a candle reflected on the windows above; a small flickering flame moving as a servant crossed the corridor. The former captain followed it until the speckle of light vanished behind stone walls.

“I miss it.” He blurted out, seized by a deep longing as the world seemed to be reduced into that snow-covered, unperturbed garden; as if its two occupants were the only souls in Nirn.

“By the Three, how I miss it! To Oblivion with those titles and thrones and crowns; I miss the road, I miss the ache after a long day’s march and falling on the straw at night too tired to think.” Nerevar leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and covering his face with his hands. Azura had blessed him with the strength to carry the title of Hortator, yet he craved the simplicity of being nothing more than a captain, with no past nor future beyond the next town.

The Hortator missed walking through the crowded streets of the bazaars; the cramped food stalls with ill-tempered merchants that served meals with enough spices to burn his tongue; the shady cornerclubs where you had to watch both your tongue and your coin purse.  

Now he signed papers, spoke with lords, and followed the proper etiquette befitting his rank; he watched the streets through the high windows of his palace, as if his brethren were tiny ants. The former captain pulled his hands away and felt a tear roll down the bridge of his nose; the liquor was truly getting to his head. He placed a hand on his councilor’s knee; the several layers of red wool soft under his glove.

“Let’s leave - just the two of us and the road ahead, like it was before the war. We’ll name ourselves whatever we wish, we’ll sleep under the stars and chew on marshmerrow pieces as we travel.”

“Where shall we go, sweet Nerevar?” The young lord played along; his voice soft as a whisper, as if afraid to disturb the stillness around them.

“Wherever you desire - do you still wonder about Hammerfell? I’ll take you to see the dunes that stretch as far as the sun, you’ll study their beetles and giant scorpions for as long as you wish, then we can drink qishr and break bread with the nomads.” Nerevar found himself smiling as he recalled the heat of the desert and the loose, colorful fabrics the natives wore.

He turned around and reached for the bottle, fingers brushing against his confidant’s. Only then, Nerevar realized his councilor had forgotten his gloves inside the hall; the golden skin contrasting against the snow, the long, elegant fingers trembling with the cold.

“Oh, Voryn.” The former captain frowned, quickly pulling his own gloves off and taking hold of the other’s wrist; the scarlet nails vanishing into the supple leather as he adjusted the glove.

“Remember when you fell sick, five days after we departed Kogoruhn? We had to-” The sentence fell on deaf ears, vanishing under the branches heavy with snow as lips met his, swallowing his words with hunger. A hand connected with his chest, closing into a fist as Voryn pulled him closer; as if it weren’t enough.

Distant and haughty Voryn, who ate sparingly and never smudged the red paint he wore on his lips, bit the Hortator’s lower lip before pulling back; eyes half-lidded as he brushed the tip of his nose against Nerevar’s in a silent plea.

The ink-colored hair contrasted against the pale golden skin; the black fur collar brushing against the captain’s chin; a pale pink blooming on his cheeks, either from cold, the brandy, or something else-

Heart hammering against his ribcage, blood drumming on his ears; it was the slightest tilt of his face that thrice-damned him as Voryn’s lips smashed against his; a devotion he was unworthy of every time their tongues met; muffled prayers in form of sighs and whimpers.  

Unworthy, unworthy, unworthy. A voice whispered in his mind, taunting him; in his mind’s eye he saw peach-colored lips curled in derision, teeth bared like a wolf’s. Almalexia’s snarl.

Somewhere, a door groaned open and the sounds of the feast reached the garden, shattering their sanctuary; the weight of being Hortator came crashing down on his shoulders. Nerevar pulled back as if he had been burned, his palm on the young lord’s shoulder firmly holding the other back. He looked down, unable to face the confusion, the longing. Too much, it was too much. His hair was disheveled, pale strands falling against his face and he felt grateful for the cover.

“Nerevar-” The head of House Dagoth began, voice hoarse and breathless.

“Forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive, I’ve wanted-”

“It was a mistake.”

“Oh.” Voryn inhaled sharply as if his lungs had suddenly been emptied.

“I’ve...I drank more than I should have. We both have.” His words feel hollow, and he can no longer tell if the bitter taste on his tongue belonged to the brandy, or the shame. The silence stretched; neither dared to move.

“I see.” His voice is flat, devoid of emotion; the usual aloofness reserved for others. Out of the corner of his eye, Nerevar watched him straighten his posture; the dark hair falling like a curtain, obscuring half of his face.  

Other guests left the feast; their chatter and laughter permeated the garden as they walked down the path to the other wing of the castle. Nerevar felt the red gaze pinned to his back, yet no words left his lips. He watched the snow under his boots; watery and muddy as it mixed with the dirt below.

At last, he heard the rustling of fabric as Voryn rose to his feet; impeccable posture as he towered over the Hortator.

“May this servant be excused, Muthsera?” The words rolled easily off his tongue; the sharp formality of it made Nerevar wince.

The Hortator forced himself to lift his head and face his long-time friend; clad in red wool and black fur, the snowflakes melting on the long, inky hair; the blank expression betraying nothing, except for his lips; the red paint had been smudged, contorting their shape.

“Yes.”

From the cradle, the heir of House Dagoth had been taught the games of persuasion and deceit; a master in concealing his thoughts behind a mask.

Nerevar took a hollow, cowardly comfort in it.

Voryn Dagoth bowed before him, as etiquette mandated, before vanishing into the corridor; the sound of his footsteps hammering inside the Hortator’s head until they vanished, leaving him with nothing but a headache and the cold.

After finishing the bottle by himself, the former captain laid in bed, watching the moons slowly crossing the sky through the windows; his dreams haunted by both his closest friend and his wife; one seeming to shift into the other as they pinned him against the sheets; ever-hungry as they sought out his lips.

It was late morning when he rose; mouth dry and head throbbing like it had been split open with an axe. The hearth had been tended to recently, the fire crackling as it consumed the logs. He turned in bed, still wrapped around the sheets.

Voryn will understand, he understands the importance of duty better than anyone. He reasoned with himself.

A single kagouti glove on the floor, as if someone had pushed it under the door.

Across the hallway, a lord painted his lips red; immaculately framing the natural shape of his lips. His unbalanced emotions shattered the mirror into a thousand pieces when his fingers trembled for a second and a smudge appeared.

Duty, he’s devoted to duty, the lord repeated mentally, as he collected the shards.

#voryn dagoth #indoril nerevar #nerevoryn #one writing tag to rule them all

[zombryz]

I just thought of an interesting scenario about Frieza’s s/o patiently listening to Frieza’s rants after he’s had a stressful day because leading a galactic army ain’t as easy as he makes it look.

TW - mentions of blood

I loved writing this scenario, thanks for the idea!! side note: sometimes I love a soft and angsty galactic Lord Frieza!  ˘͈ᵕ˘͈

You weren’t sure where he was but you could hear him. His angry yelling echoed down the halls and caused everyone on the ship to close the doors to their cabins out of fear. You were patiently waiting in your cabin that you shared with the ruthless galactic army leader, Lord Frieza. He was late coming in which means it was probably a very long day at work. Frieza didn’t normally scare you like he did everyone else, but on days like today when he was fuming with rage you couldn’t help but admit he was terrifying. You prepared wine for his return in hopes that it would soften his irritation with whatever/whomever screwed up today. Frieza was just as resilient as a lover as he was a leader. Your palms were becoming clammy out of nervousness for his return.

You took a seat on one end of your enormous black suede couch and sat in an uncomfortable upright position. Your eyes were pinned on the door, awaiting his entrance. Finally, a few moments later, Frieza stormed in. He radiated displeasure and his eyes skipped over yours and immediately scanned for the wine you had prepared for him. Without a single word he marched over to your kitchen nook and gripped the wine glass in one hand and the bottle in the other. His grasp was so tight you could’ve sworn the glass was going to break into a ton of little shards. You sat quietly allowing him to regain his composure. You were always able to see another side of Frieza that no one on the ship got to see. You were able to see how much his work actually got to him and how stressful it was on him. The pair of you weren’t like normal couples, on earth if a husband came home from work upset the wife would help make him feel better by feeding him dinner, or so you assumed based on stereotypes. Not you and Frieza, some days he would come home and instantly rip your clothes off to release his anger inside you. Other days he would destroy furniture out of anger and come to bed really late. You were unsure what today was going to be. You were still in an uncomfortable upright position, the air was awkward so you decided to clear your throat. You weren’t even sure if he knew you were there. 

“Why hello darling, have you been sitting pretty over there this whole time?” Frieza tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, you were sitting in the dark so he squinted a little. He was already two glasses in and was nowhere near his limit. 

“Hello my love, tough day today?” You questioned, not trying to overstep but trying to squeeze him for some information.

“Ahh yes, indeed. My combatants didn’t follow orders and put me in a very difficult position today. I repaid them by killing two… well, maybe three of them.” Frieza was getting progressively more tipsy with each glass he drank. He began tapping his head with his pointer finger trying to remember something, “Hmm, what were their names I wonder? Oh nevermind, it does not matter anyways. They’re dead.” Frieza trailed off chuckling evilly. He placed his wine glass on the counter and spun it around in his hand, there was a brief silence before he spoke once more. “I left one alive so if he pulls the same act I’ll have to kill him too.” Frieza froze, gripping the wine glass once more staring off into space. “I do hate when they don’t follow orders, Y/N. Why can’t they just do what I say?” His voice raised an octave higher and finally the wine glass burst into tiny pieces. 

It happened so quickly, a piece of the wine glass must’ve flown towards you and brushed your cheek. You reached up to your face and felt a warm wet substance trickling down. Frieza faced you with horror in his eyes. He rushed to your side as soon as he saw the blood on your hands. 

“Y/N! Oh no, I’ve ruined your beautiful face!” Frieza cupped your cheeks, holding you still while he examined the wound. His eyes were fixed on your cheek but you couldn’t take your eyes off of him, he was the beautiful one. Even in his rage you loved him. He wasn’t one for apologizing, you knew he showed he was sorry by expressing his apologies. His closeness was all that you wanted. With your face still in his hands you sat up to kiss him. Your hands reached around his shoulders so that you could embrace him harder. Frieza kissed back, he let all of his sorrows and anger be released into the loving kiss you shared. You absorbed all of his emotions and could feel him loosen up under your spell. He gently pushed you backwards so that your head would fall back onto the couch cushion. Frieza climbed on top of you, your lips never leaving each other. He broke the kiss to plant a kiss on your injured cheek, still sorry about what he did to you. You pulled on his neck so that he was face to face with you again. Your eyes went from his down to his dark lips. In this moment you felt the most intimate you’ve ever felt with him. Between his rants about work and him showing how much he cares about you. 

“It’s okay baby, I know you didn’t mean it. Now let me help you feel better.” Before he could contest you kissed him even harder.

#bryannawrites #frieza imagine #frieza #fanfic #lord frieza #dbs frieza

[claralaclarividente-fics]

Rosegarden Week- Day 1: Cuddles

Hello friends!! First day of Rosegarden Week, let’s keep this sweet week going!

______________________

“Don’t worry lil sis, you’ll be able to come when you grow up big and strong like me!” Yang yelled from the door, one arm wrapped around Blake’s shoulder and the other wrapped around Weiss.

“Yeah, Ruby. Don’t worry, you’ll get there soon.” Enthused Weiss, continuing to tease Ruby.

The girl in question only shot daggers at her friends and burrowed deeper in her cocoon of blankets.

Blake regarded her leader with a look of sympathy but decided against saying anything. She herself had been at that age that she wanted to be more independent, do grown up things, but then landed herself in Adam’s clutches. Rookie mistake of burning stages when time is your best ally.

Checking her scroll, Blake announced the time, and tugged on the blonde’s arm lightly. Burn as she might have been, Blake decided that being in Yang’s clutches was way better.

“Kay, Rubes! We´re leaving!” Weiss nudged Yang’s side and pulled, rolling her eyes.

No answer.

Ruby wrapped herself in a blanket, grumbling at her sister’s farewell from the door, too engrossed in her musings to truly care for a goodbye. The door closed mutedly, a gust of wind shuddered the windowpanes, and still Ruby fumed silently.

It had finally happened. Ruby’s most embarrassing moment of her life, one that no one would let her live down.

Even after all this time of fighting Grimm and being promoted to Huntress status, Ruby still got thrown out of a nightclub, planting her butt on a bank of snow, because she was 17 and thus, still considered a minor.

Twice.

‘It’s just so unfair!’, Ruby thought after brooding a bit more in furious quiet. ‘I risk my butt out there every day, and I can’t have fun!’. While very true, it was the middle of winter, and her coming of age birthday would not come for another year.

A few minutes passed before her mood lifted a bit. She had been putting off exploring the Atlas Academy kitchens, as well as their rec room. She was free to do as she pleased. Sighing softly, she shook the remaining grumpiness from her shoulders and rolled out of bed. She still had on the clubbing clothes Weiss had chosen for her: red shimmery top and black leather coupled with soggy tights after being pushed down a snowbank twice.

Peeling off her street wear, Ruby clad herself in her favorite long-sleeved pajama set, and wrapped a gray fleece blanket around her shoulders as she walked out the door.

She was gonna have some fun tonight, even if it were by her lonesome.

__________________________________________

Oscar hummed as he worked on incorporating the eggs into the sugary butter mixture in his bowl. He was in such a good mood, even after all his friends had gone out to party like hooligans. He was sure that the coming tales from the partying teens would make his breakfast much more interesting.

The academy kitchens were at his full disposition and Oscar was too much of a homebody to care that he was alone. He had dressed in his Nora-Issued Pumpkin Pete patterned pajama set (all members of team JNPR just had to match!) and a fluffy brown robe loosely tied to his waist. His shoulders were relaxed and with ease he found himself whisking away in his own world of warmth and coziness. He had forgone the bandages for the night, as his teammates would be long before they come back to their dorm and had applied some scarring salve to his neck.

He felt at ease, with his neck scars uncovered and airing out. They itched like they normally did after so long under bandages, but he avoided touching his itchy neck while he was cooking.

He threw in a handful of chocolate chips to the mixture as he fell back to his thoughts.

Nora and Yang would for sure bring the funniest anecdotes of the night, seconded only with Jaune’s string of guys and girls that would surely go after his “earnest and boyish allure”, as one of the Mantle moms had put it. Oscar chuckled at the thought of Jaune not understanding how he got a fanclub in the first place as he measured the cup of flour.

Slowly, so as to not overwhelm the cookie dough with the Atlesian flour (he preferred the one that his neighbors manufactured at their mill), he spooned a bit of the flour as he felt relaxing again. He imagined that each spoonful was one individual problem or obstacle of his day, and as he released it into the bowl, he felt letting go of his daily troubles. He inhaled deeply through his nostrils like Maria had taught him and was about to release slowly through his mouth.

Except.

“Whatcha doing, Oscar?”, an inquisitive voice startled him into a surprised gasp as a cloud of flour filled his field of vision. Both teens spluttered and coughed as flour got into their airways.

“M-milk!” groaned Oscar, his eyes stinging as his throat constricted painfully. Through the massive hacking, Ruby found the milk and uncapped it fast, and delivered it with a slap to Oscar’s chest.

Oscar took one gulp of milk and slammed the carton on the counter, his coughing fit reduced but not contained. Ruby took the carton then and had a swig herself before slamming it back on the counter, Oscar taking it then, and so on and so forth.

After the milk had been drank, the two teens slumped on the counter as evil (in the form of non glutinous Atlesian flour) had tried to take them to an early grave.

Winded out and cheeks planted on the cold countertop, they looked at each other and gave a giggly sigh.

“So…what were you doing before almost dying at age fourteen?”, Ruby asked as she booped him on the cheek.

He blushed lightly and sat back up as he slid the bowl of cookie dough to Ruby.

“Chocolate chip cookies.” He answered simply as he watched the black-haired girl taste a spoonful of dough. She wiggled in her seat.

“Man, this is good!” She said enthusiastically before a deadpan Oscar plopped a whole cup of flour into the bowl Ruby was digging her spoon back in. She pouted as he resumed his whisking around.

Oscar worked in silence, as Ruby watched his every move. He made baking look like a meditative process and looked so in the zone that she dared not to speak.

It was only as he planted the last of the dough using an ice cream scoop that he spoke up again.

“And I’m fifteen, by the way.”

The way that Ruby screeched her surprise made him stumble a bit, as he looked bewildered at her.

__________________________________________

Ruby paced back and forth in front of Oscar as he held a jar of freshly baked cookies in his lap. This particular rec room they were in had been loaned specifically for their group, seeing as General Ironwood in true Atlesian fashion, liked to play favourites and offered a ‘special housing arrangement for such a special group’.

The girl finished the last bite of her cookie, and as she gulped down, she turned to look at Oscar.

“March. The. Twentieth.” He shrank slightly as he passed another cookie to the fuming teen in front of him.

“Yep.”

“We are in APRIL! THE! TWENTIETH!”

“Mhm.”

“A whole month passed!” He just looked at her as she inhaled the cookie in her hand. She turned back to him and shook his shoulders slightly, “Why didn’t you tell us!?”, he just shrugged.

“I lost track of time; I swear! We were all just so busy training, and going to missions, and stuff…”

“But you didn’t go to any missions you just trained with the General!”

Oscar just rubbed his arm, looking at a cookie as he seemingly inspected it for imperfections. He sat silently as he willed his face to not heat up under such strong scrutiny.

Ruby bit her lip as she realized that he had not gone to any missions, but she and the rest did.

“Ah.” She said, suddenly feeling quite lame as she wrapped herself tighter in her blanket. Ruby watched as Oscar nibbled on a cookie, collecting his thoughts. She sat down on the couch with him shoulder to shoulder, her bravado gone.

They sat in silence munching on cookies for a bit, before Ruby jumped up and dashed away in a flurry of red petals, leaving Oscar mulling the past minutes over and over again.

Sitting there alone he thought about how silly it became to him that he halfheartedly hoped for Ruby to come back. Just as he was dusting himself off, Ruby reappeared in front of him carrying bulks of blankets under both arms.

“Meet me in my dorm in like ten, kay?” she said hurriedly as she tucked the sofa cushion under her chin and bolted back to her dorm.

Oscar felt a flurry of nervousness, and giddiness at the pit of his stomach, which he tried to stomp with yet another cookie.

Deciding to get the rest of the cookies, he walked back to the kitchen and prepared a basket with whatever he could find.

__________________________________________

“Woah.” Oscar had been caught unaware and surprised many times over since he joined the ragtag group of hunstmen rookies, he had seen horrors beyond his imagination, and his fate revealed cruelly in front of his very eyes. He had also seen bouts of astounding magic and impossible things. He had done impossible things.

But he had never been surprised silly by the simplest of things. Like this. Oscar felt a special type of warmth in his heart as he watched as Ruby applied the last touches to the most spectacular pillow fort he had seen in his life.

Somehow, she had found fairy lights and attached them to a canopy of blankets over the nest of pillows and sofa cushions that lay arranged in a very cozy manner on the floor. It looked comfy as hell and knowing Atlas’ penchant for luxurious materials for the tiniest of things, he had no doubt that the pillows were heavenly soft and plush.

He swept his gaze to Ruby as she set her scroll on top of some books, the camera facing a wall and in projector mode as it displayed a frozen still from a movie (or something). He sniffled a bit, touched by the barest of details, and his eyes pricked ever so lightly.

Hearing the quiet sniffle, Ruby whirled around and caught him misty eyed. In a panic, she rushed to him and squished his cheeks as she shushed him.

“Not! No crying today, Oscar. We´re gonna watch comedies and gorge ourselves in food till we enter a food coma.” Oscar nodded, his cheeks and ears heating up as Ruby continued to press her palms to his face.

Oscar had felt the rush of blood to his veins before, but it was always under perilious circumstances. Never before had a friend (definitely not a crush!) done something so touching and…homey. Like this.

“Mm mwot gwon cwa, boh plis rewt me gwo.” Ruby blinked at the unintelligible string of sounds that left Oscar’s pinched lips. Realizing she had squeezed his cheeks for too long, she let go immediately.

“Oh! He-hee. Oops, my bad.” She stammered, suddenly embarrassed.

“It’s ok. I got some of the fancy stuff that Winter keeps sending Weiss but that she doesn’t actually like.” He said, lifting the basket up for Ruby to inspect.

After accepting his offer of cold meat cuts and fancy-difficult- to-pronounce cheeses, Oscar and Ruby settled on the nest of soft blankets and plush pillows on the floor.

“Kay,” Ruby began as she went over tonight’s movie selection, “I got The Yuletide, about a girl living in a cottage in Mistral and another lady in a mansion in Atlas who swap homes for the holiday. I also got Huntsman Trap, about two estranged huntress trainees who get into the same Academy, discover they are twins and set up their big-name Huntsmen parents who got divorced. Or! The Pink Manticore, a crazy detective from Vacuo joins forces with experts to find the fabled Pink Manticore, a huge pink diamond that is rumoured to be possessed.”

Oscar scratched his chin deep in thought as he hugged a pillow to his chest.

“Mhm… How about the twin movie?”

Ruby grinned. She had already selected the movie.

_________________________________________

After watching two of Ruby’s movie selections and eating sweet and savory foods until they could no longer accept one more crumb, both teens plopped down the pillows and burrowed in the fluffy blankets contentedly.

Ruby had turned off the fairy lights, and her scroll was projecting on their canopy of blankets overhead the pinpricks of the night sky.

Oscar was looking at the soft flecks of lights, flickering like they would under the winter night. His hands rested lazily on his full stomach, his left hand every so often pointing at the makeshift heavens.

“What’s that… smoky section of the sky?” Ruby asked, her right hand pointing at the general direction of the splattering of spots above.

Oscar narrowed his eyes a bit, pulling a memory not his own, but soon to become, out of the recesses of his soul.

“That’s the Seafoam River, we can’t really see it because of pollution, but many years ago it was brighter than the Moon.” He explained.

Ruby ‘aah-ed’ and looked at the stripe of stars and nebulae. She turned her body slightly to look at him, her palm under her chin.

“I have a question.” She said simply, her stare was hot platinum, intense and burning into his very soul.

Oscar turned his body to mirror hers and noticed her steadfast gaze. Feeling blood rush to his neck, he realized with a jolt that his scars were visible and had been for the entirety of the night. His hand flew fast to the side of his neck, shielding as much as he could the reminder of his childhood trauma.

“I… This is from the day my parents died.” He confessed. Ruby made a sound at the back of her throat, confused. “Can’t remember well, but a Grimm-“

“That wasn’t it!” Ruby interrupted as she grabbed his hand in hers, shaking Oscar out of his memories. “Just wanted to ask what type of farm you had, that’s all!” Oscar let a soft ‘oh?’, surprised. “But if you feel ready to tell me about it, I am here.”

Oscar shook his head.

“Sorry! I just thought… I didn’t want to scare you off with this.” He pointed at the cris-crossed scarred pattern in his neck.

Ruby giggled softly as she squeezed his hand.

“Oscar, my sister lost her arm and Weiss and Blake all have scars. We all do. We just gotta… accept them for the gift of a second chance that they are.”

Slowly, Oscar laid back down on his back. His long mile stare bore holes on the piece of fabric over their heads as he just laid there pensive.

“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to… I can put on another movie from our selection, its fine!” Ruby sat up quickly to select the Pink Manticore, the funny Vacuoan noir comedy, when she felt Oscar tug at their still joined hands. She squeezed his hand softly.

“Actually, I always dreamed about getting sheep so I could collect their wool and make dyed yarn and maybe sell it down by the town square.”

Smiling softly, Ruby settled back down and tuned to Oscar as he explained the process of shearing and dying wool.

Over time, the conversation petered out in between yawns and strenuous effort to keep awake. The last thing Ruby saw was Oscar’s eyelashes brushing his cheeks as he finally fell asleep, his face relaxed and content.

Looking at their held hands between their bodies, she felt happier than she had been in a very long time. She had finally gotten to learn more about her friend, and feeling particularly close and placid, she let sleep wash over her.

_________________________________________

“Aw man, look at this!” Whisper-yelled Yang from the doorway to their dorm before she got loudly shushed by a barely sober Weiss.

The white-haired huntress was standing impossibly slanted, forty-five degrees to her right as she tried (in vain) to regain her composure, while Yang looked on the scene before her from the door.

“They. Are. Sleeping!” Weiss complained to her blonde teammate, who shushed her back sarcastically.

Irritated, Weiss began shushing Yang as she mimicked the white-haired girl back, initiating an argument expressed in overly dramatic shushing.

Blake and Ren shared a long-time suffering look, peeking out close enough to the door but not too much, avoiding Nora who fell asleep in the middle of the hallway, standing straight up, holding on to a stop-sign she had nicked from Mantle.

Jaune looked at Ruby and Oscar, both looking impossibly cozy as they cuddled in their pillow nest. They hugged lightly in their sleep, snoring softly and unaware of their friends looking at their snuggle.

“Look at them!” Jaune exclaimed softly, blue eyes soft and fond as he regarded his younger teammates. “They are headbutting their foreheads together!”

Blake poked her head into the room to see better and hummed.

“I get what they are trying to say. Headbutting is a whole declaration.” She said sagely, her ears twitching over her head. Blinking, she turned to the hallway as she heard someone approaching. She cocked her head when she saw who it was.

“Hey, Penny.”

“Salutations my friends!” The red-haired android girl exclaimed happily.

Weiss stopped her shushing match with Yang and slowly turned to Penny.

“Penny! Hush! Look at them they are sleeping!” she slurred.

Penny engaged her lock-on optics to scan Weiss quickly.

“Oh! It seems that you have been inebriated!”

Weiss spluttered indignantly.

Deciding to leave the dorm for the time being, Jaune pushed his way out of the dorm and closed the door.

“Hey guys, maybe we should simmer down a little bit.” Jaune said, pointing at the closed door as he tried to her the group further down the corridor.

Yang chuckled.

“Yeah! Looks like Ruby and Oscar need to catch up on their sleep to grow big and strong.” A chorus of giggles echoed as the group tried to stifle their laughter while Penny looked on confused.

“Sleep? But if I came here to wait exactly forty-five minutes until your usual waking time?”

Weiss snapped out of it suddenly.

“Are you telling me its already five a.m.?!”

__________________________________________

Later that day Marrow noticed that the kids from Beacon all seemed lethargic and whiny, compared to their usual selves. Their reaction times were off and seemed confused. Frankly, it was like herding cats that day.

Marrow decided to take Ruby and Oscar, who were spry and looking fresh, on a stake out with him by the Solitas’ mines instead. During the entire mission, Oscar and Ruby seemed to have a new spring on their steps, and in Marrow’s opinion, he had once again stuck babysitting more lovesick fools.

———-

Hope you enjoyed this tiny drabble! Cross posted on AO3, you can find me as ClaraLaClarividente 😗

#rwby #rwby vol8 #rosegarden week 2021 #rosegarden #ruby rose #oscar pine #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #weiss schnee #penny polendina #jaune arc #nora valkyrie #lie ren

[eagehaunting]

Mystery March 2021 day 12: Friend

This is actually a sequel to the day 10 prompt! I hope you all enjoy!

A heavy beat from the drums of one of the bands made Lewis’s heart race. With each beat setting off a new wave of impulses and urges. Tapping his fingers against his tequila, Lewis wets his lips and tries to keep his attention solely on Arthur.

Arthur, who sips his Irish cream eagerly and softly pants. Considering that Arthur had been jumping around and dancing around him within a crowd, as musicians blare and sweat drenched people collide, it wasn’t a huge surprise. But Lewis almost wished he was in the crowd again, distracted by the loud noise, head too full of euphoria to pay attention to the pesky thoughts that kept poking at him.

Kiss him, just do it. Look at his face, look at his lips. Do it. Do it-

The tequila rushes down his throat roughly. Lewis resists the urge to cough against the acidic liquid. Thankful that it stopped his stream of thoughts and turning to god this is horrible.

Arthur casts him a glance, sipping his drink and letting it hit the table a bit harder than usual.

“You like it? Your drink, I mean?” He asks, staring at Lewis with wide eyes. So unlike him and yet so... nice. The wall between them felt lower, and if Lewis wanted to, he could step right over and grasp those flushed cheeks and got a taste of Irish cream-

Another sip. Clenching his eyes shut as the bitterness has him shivering. Finally Lewis nods and squishes his near empty cup, hardly realizing that it was close to empty. “I do actually. Thank you for buying me a few, it’s been nice.”

“Your f-face says otherwise.” Arthur murmurs, hardly lifting his mouth from his straw.

Lewis bobs his head in agreement, “I think I drank a bit too much. I’m actually getting a headache now.”

“Shit,” Arthur swallows thickly and his hand shoots out, grabbing Lewis’s hand- his drink, pulling his drink from Lewis’s clumsy fingers with more grace than he imagined from the drunk man. “We-well then maybe we should head out? I t-told Ya’ I wouldn’t keep you out here long.”

Before Lewis could object to his drink being stolen, Arthur’s hands stutter, and the glass tips over.

“Fuck!” They both say at the same time. Lewis snags a few napkins and frantically tries to wipe, Arthur scrambles to grab the glass, failing to avoid spilling the drink. “D-dammit, Lew, I’m sorry- shit. W-want me to buy a drink to go?” Arthur asks, voice high with worry. Lewis flickers up, frown falling with a sigh.

“It’s.. it’s fine. Really, don’t worry. Pl-plus, one of us should be a bit more sober when we go to get a cab out of here.”

Deflating, Arthur nods and miserably tries to suck down the rest of his. He downs a quarter of the glass easily before sputtering.

Look at him. We never see him like this. He’s so cute, so nice, why don’t we just say it-

Lewis’s eyebrows furrowing as he eyes the wet napkins holding his distraction.

Shit. He narrowly glances at the kernels of popcorn left in their mini bucket to his left, and the small bag of leftovers besides his feet.

Arthur’s lightly bouncing his toes. Eyes drifting over the crowd of people on the hill surrounding a stage, where a familiar band plays tunes Lewis could faintly recall singing along to on the way there-

Arthur gasps. Reacting to a new chord. He whips back to Lewis, bowing across the table and smacking his fingers against the grated table. “Lewis-! Ca-can we stay for just this song? I really like it and as soon as it’s over we can leave-“

Reaching over the table and lightly touching Arthur’s hand, Lewis waves off His rambling.

“Sounds perfect. I can order a cab now and clean up, and after this song we can leave.”

Arthur’s eyes light up, he nods eagerly. “N-need some help?”

“No, I got it. Just sit back and enjoy the song, okay?”

The song is bouncy, reminding Lewis of a tropical beach. Palm trees and sparkling lights that zip across the night sky. As well as the interior of a night club. He faintly pays attention to the song as he unzips his backpack and pulls out his and Arthur’s jackets, when the chorus catches attention.

I wanna ruin our friendship,

we should be lovers instead.

I don’t know how to say this, ‘cus you’re really my dearest friend.

Lewis’s heart stills. This has to be a joke. A cruel joke set up by the universe. A chill takes across his shoulders as the heartbeat like drums tap into his own, making his fingers twitch in time. Dropping the jacket onto Arthur’s lap, Lewis mumbles a command to put them on before gathering his trash and quickly escaping to throw them away.

See? Everything is telling you to go for it. He’ll accept, he has to, just listen!

His heart races, pounds. Every thought turned into a reflection of Arthur, his best friend, his.. crush. And all he wants to do is grab Arthur and pull him into a tight hug and hope that Arthur will understand what it means.

No. He cant. He can’t do that, what if it ruins everything? Arthur might hate him, might detest him, want nothing to do with him, leave him stranded.

But he might not.

Lewis’s heart stills, his skin prickling as a breeze presses against his front. Pushing him back to Arthur.

Turning around, Lewis catches Arthur’s eye. His new black hoodie makes his bright hair stand out, and highlights the warmth on his face. Amazing, his perfect, handsome best friend, waiting for him to come back so they can leave together.

I wanna ruin our friendship,

I don’t know how to say this,

’cus you’re really my dearest friend.

Lewis clears his throat as his feet move without warning. “H-hey, Arthur, can I tell you something?”

What was he even thinking to say? Hey Arthur, I love you in a romantic way. Arthur I want to be yours forever. I want to ruin our friendship, we should be lovers instead-

Whatever sat on Lewis’s tongue vanished in an instant as he came within three feet of Arthur. His hands raised and grab at Arthur’s shoulders. Before Lewis realizes it, he’s leaning in.

Arthur’s eyes widen, Lewis’s eyebrows arch.

Their lips meet, and both of them freeze.

Lewis’s chest feels hollow as his heart fills it all with a racing beat, making his arms, legs, and stomach shaky as the moment replays again and again in his head. What may have been two seconds, felt like an hour before Lewis draws back. Panting, face and body tense, head throbbing with a new type of pain. His eyes searching desperately.

Arthur stares at Lewis blankly, mouth hanging open and eyes wide, face filled with shock or surprise or something that Lewis couldn’t really explain.

Arthur’s lip quirks up in what could have been a smile, but it’s apprehensive nature makes Lewis’s heart drop, “Wh-what was... Lewis? Why... what’s that about..?”

“I...” Lewis’s hands dangle there, lightly trembling. The song switches to something else with a roar from the crowd, becoming muffled as realization hits. “Arthur, I- I’m sorry. I didn’t think about what I was doing.” Tell him, tell him, TELL HIM! “I-I really like you, Arthur.” Lewis’s entire body shudders, weakness taking hold of every muscle as he tries to avert his eyes, only to land on Arthur. “I always have, ever since we were kids. I wanted- the entire trip I’ve been wanting to tell you, but I wasn’t sure how- or if it was even okay! I wanted to just s-say it. I’ve been wanting to kiss you this whole night, but I didn’t mean to force you-“

He’s lightly hit in the center of the chest, before Arthur grabs his shoulders. Lewis’s body and heart stills.

“Wait- seriously? You too? I- I mean we can keep kissing too if you want! I-I know I was kinda shit a minute ago, but I was just surprised.”

Wait huh? Lewis blinks as Arthur tries to close the gap between them again, but he pulls back, holding Arthur steady by his shoulder.

The incessant thoughts that were plaguing Lewis that whole day vanished, leaving him with his rational and his logic and a heavy cloud of what just happened looming over him. A storm cloud twisting in his racing chest and reminding him every way that this wasn’t okay.

But the tequila clouds his thoughts. All rational hidden in the cloud of smoke.

“W-wait. Maybe we can ... let’s wait until tomorrow? We’re a bit drunk right now, and I think that maybe we should talk about this when we wake up.”

He can only imagine Arthur’s thoughts spiraling by the confusion in his face, but Lewis pats his shoulder to snap him out of it. “N-not that I don’t think we should stop kissing, but I didn’t want our f-first to be like that. Right?”

Really, Lewis didn’t want Arthur to wake up filled with regret tomorrow. A measly kiss could be written off, but making out entirely? No. Lewis wasn’t going to allow it to go that far. His body already forced them enough.

They can wait.

And in fact, they did.

It wasn’t long waiting for their driver, not was it long to sit in the cab. Lightly brushing their fingers against the others and avoiding directly looking at each other. When they got back into their hotel, Lewis had to coax Arthur into the night ritual of brushing their teeth and undressing, as well as drinking some water before they crawled into their one, shared bed.

Lewis wasn’t sure how he managed to fall asleep so quickly, with his racing thoughts all surrounding his best friend beside him.

When he woke up, it all hit him all at once. The kiss most prominently lingering in his mind.

Being on his stomach let Lewis feel the cold sheets beside him, and lewis cracks open his eye to confirm that Arthur wasn’t still sleeping. In fact, Lewis caught a glimpse of the pale man leaning against the counter, with the familiar drip-drip of their portable coffee maker. The sun shining against his skin, making Arthur glow radiantly.

He might hate you. A thought points out, and Lewis closes his eyes to try and will away the churn in his stomach. The fear, the terror, the guilt...

His best friend, may hate him entirely...

Then as he shifts in his seat, a throb prickles through his head and Lewis groans unintentionally as the hangover blooms. He won’t be able to fall asleep now... maybe he should get it over with and get up.

Whimpering, Lewis pushes himself up and rolls onto his back, rubbing his palm against his forehead.

“Good morning, Lewis pepper.” Arthur’s croaky voice says, calm and gentle, Lewis could hear the smile on his face before he even opened his eyes. “Sleep well?”

“Mm,” Lewis groans and finally looks over at him, “I have a headache.”

“Hang over?”

“Yeah.”

There’s footsteps coming at him before a clink. Lewis opens his eyes, and a glass of water and two capsules are pressed into his face. Lewis takes it gratefully and swallows it back. Pushing himself off the bed, Lewis stretches and breaths in deeply, taking in the aroma of coffee and sweat from last night.

Arthur clears his throat, suddenly right behind Lewis, and becomes startlingly apparent when Arthur taps his shoulder and Lewis whirls around.

“So,” Arthur’s mouth is twisted up in his typical Kingsmen grin, it makes Lewis’s chest warm, “now that we aren’t totally blasted, let’s chat?”

It takes Lewis a moment to get over the surprise and embarrassment lodged in his throat before he nods. “Sure. I know I didn’t explain myself to to the best of my abilities. Perhaps over some coffee?”

“Sounds good. I have some brewing already, and I got your thermos ready for you.” Arthur thumbs to the kitchen and behind guiding Lewis there.

“Oh, how sweet.”

“Well of course, I am the sweetest!” Arthur says with a lazy flourish. Grabbing the coffee pot, Arthur begins to pour and Lewis takes his seat. Arthur then splashes in a sugar packet, a splash of milk, and a second larger splash of cinnamon creamer. His favorite, Lewis couldn’t resist smiling as he takes a sip.

“Thank you, Artie. It tastes really nice.”

“It does? Need any more sugar?”

“Hm,” another sip, “one more packet.”

Arthur tosses one to Lewis and takes a seat, folding his arms.

“So, I feel like I should ask one thing of you, Lew Lew.”

Pausing, Lewis hides his blush behind his thermos. Arthur continues.

“Give me a warning next time you’re going to steal my breath away?”

Lewis sputters and coughs into his hand, looking away. “I-I told you, I didn’t know what came over me. I’m not going to do it again.”

“And I didn’t think it would have happened at all. But one moment I was drinking Irish cream, jamming out, and the next minute all I could taste was tequila!” Lewis rolls his eyes and drinks his coffee as a distraction, and Arthur breathed out with amusement. “Not that I wouldn’t mind it happening again.”

#msa #lewis pepper #mystery skulls animated #arthur kingsmen #mystery march 2021 #lewthur #eage fanfic #they are gaY #ngl I feel Artie is a lil ooc #but this is also a fic idea I’ve had for like 2 years so idc #gotta get it out someHOW

[gravelyhumerus]

“just like a folk song (our love will be passed on)”

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Relationship: Jemily

Summary: Pregnant? Off a one-night hookup that convinced her that the relationship wouldn’t go anywhere? Impossible. Improbable. Unlikely.

Word count: 3,086

Read it on AO3

Chapter One, Chapter Two

Sunlight streamed into the warm bedroom as Jennifer Jareau awoke and blinked against the brightness. She yawned and stretched, her body wrapped in soft white sheets. 

JJ rolled over, coming face to face with Emily Prentiss. She smiled at the sight of the woman still asleep, looking peaceful in her slumber. She gently pulled the blankets up and over her girlfriend's bare shoulder. 

Checking her watch, she realized that she had woken up before her alarm, and could have slept another half an hour and still had enough time to make it to Quantico with coffee and doughnuts for the team. 

Despite the picture perfect moment, JJ didn’t feel well. She did normally wake up before Emily, as she was much more of a morning person, but typically she basked in the half-asleep haze to watch Emily sleep, her eyes tracing every plane of her face. After years of sharing beds with Emily because of cases, JJ had heard more than one complaint about her own sleeping habits, whether it was her incessant kicking or how she would often wake up before dawn to run before they had to go to work. 

Nausea and dizziness hit her like a brick, causing her to sit up in the bed and fight back the overpowering desire to gag. JJ tossed back the blankets, leaped out of bed and ran into Emily’s ensuite bathroom. 

She barely made it to the toilet in time to throw up what was left of her dinner into the bowl. 

She knelt in front of it, her bare knees feeling chilled against the grey tile floor. As she sat back, collapsing into the wall, the nausea abated slightly. She let her head fall back into the wall, her breaths coming in gasps as the world spun. 

JJ frowned and racked her brain for what could possibly be wrong with her. She hadn’t drank anything the night before, as the last time she felt this bad had been after drinking an entire bottle of rosé at Penelope’s a few months back. 

She flushed and stood up to brush her teeth, but her dizziness hadn’t gone away. JJ swayed when she stood, clutching tightly on the counter to steady herself. Her stomach protested, warning her not to move too quickly, else she would be back in front of the toilet bowl.

The media liaison then pulled her toothbrush out of her toiletries bag and carefully brushed her teeth, working on getting the sour taste out of her mouth. She wondered whether she had eaten something bad the day before. With all the takeout they ordered, no wonder her stomach was upset.

JJ walked back into Emily’s bedroom, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She still felt off kilter, but the nausea was subsiding. 

Emily had sat up in the bed, and looked at her with concern. 

“Are you ok, Jayje?” she asked, her eyes bleary but still full of concern. JJ had clearly just woken her up with her activity in the bathroom. 

“My stomach’s upset,” JJ explained, rubbing it slightly, her voice coming out with more of a whine to it than she had expected. 

Emily frowned, patting the bed and moving over so there was space for JJ to join her in bed. JJ sat down, allowing Emily to pull her in for a hug. She leaned into her girlfriend, basking in the warmth and comfort that a simple touch offered her.  

“If you’re not feeling well, why don’t you stay here?” Emily said, “We can’t have you giving the whole team the flu.”

Emily reached up to touch JJ’s forehead with the palm of her hand, checking to see if the blonde had a fever. 

“I’ll be fine,” JJ said, batting Emily’s hand away from her face. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I will always worry about you, JJ.”

JJ relaxed into Emily’s embrace cuddling back up onto the bed, deciding to get whatever rest she could before her alarm. Emily’s strong arms wrapped around her, and JJ rested her head on Emily’s collarbones. 

The older woman stroked JJ’s hair softly. She immediately felt better at the touch, able to focus on pushing away the nausea.

This was all still new. Them. Their relationship. Whatever JJ and Emily were. They had admitted their mutual feelings in a rush of emotion in a hotel room only a few weeks ago. Since, it has been a whirlwind of nights together, secret conversations and stolen glances across the bullpen. They were girlfriends. They had said that, so far. But, beyond that, the details of their relationship were still being established. 

With a team of profilers, JJ could only guess that they had already been made, but they still weren’t making it public to the team, just yet. It was nice to have secrets, since they often knew more about JJ than she knew about herself.

Walking JJ from her comfortable, half-asleep state, Emily’s alarm blared out from the clock radio on her side of the bed, an annoying beep that came as a preset on the device. 

“Time to get up.” Emily murmured into JJ’s hair, tickling her sides lightly, making JJ squeal and squirm.

“Stop!” JJ gasped, attempting to escape by wriggling around in Emily’s grasp.

She then leapt off the bed and grabbed Emily’s pillow for protection, wielding it like a weapon. 

Emily followed suit, standing with a pillow in hand. The two agents were soon engaged in a pillow fight, jumping and running around the room using the soft pillows as weapons, smacking each other on the head before dancing away.

They fought back and forth across the room, each landing a few solid blows on the other, one notably hitting Emily right in the face, messing up her oh-so-perfect bangs. 

JJ overcame with giggles as she leaped onto Emily, forcing her down onto the bed with her hands wrapped around the wrists of the taller girl. 

They landed with an oof  and JJ pinned her girlfriend by her arms, who looked up at her with a daring look in her eyes. JJ leaned down, closed the distance and kissed her gently. 

Emily strained against JJ’s grip, lifting her head up to deepen the kiss. Their lips moved against each other in a comfortable and familiar motion. Emily’s tongue swept between JJ’s lips, and she opened her mouth sliding her tongue against Emily’s. 

JJ let go of the other woman’s arms in favour of tangling her fingers through her dark hair, allowing Emily the freedom to hold onto JJ by the waist. 

“If we didn’t have to get to work soon, I’d take you here—again—on this bed. Just like I did last night,” Emily whispered between kisses. 

“ Please,” JJ gasped, desperate for Emily to keep touching her. 

“JJ, it’s already seven,” Emily whined. “We have to go.”

“I’ll be quick,” she said. “I promise.”

“We’re never quick.”

JJ pulled back, sitting up on the bed, still straddling Emily. Smiling down at her, “Fine. You owe me one tonight,” JJ said. 

“Deal.”

JJ stepped down onto the hardwood floor, her socked feet padding over to Emily’s closet. She chose a pair of black slacks and a beige sweater off the hook. She relaxed at the fact that between the cuddles and the pillow fight, her stomach had calmed down and her nausea was mostly abated. She could hear Emily stand up and walk up behind her. 

“That’s my sweater,” Emily said.

JJ looked down at it inquisitively. 

“No it isn’t,” she retorted, “I’ve had this forever. It was in my go bag and hung it up here last night.” 

“I lost it forever ago.”

JJ found herself smiling at her own accidental theft. She must have had it for long enough that she thought she owned it in the first place. 

“We can’t keep switching clothing,” Emily said, “We work with a bunch of highly trained profilers, they notice things like this for a living.”

“I can’t help it, I love wearing your clothes.”

Emily planted a kiss on her cheek, distracting her as she pulled her sweater out of JJ’s hands. 

“Morgan noticed that I was wearing your blue shirt last week,” Emily said, “He’s close to putting the pieces together. I hate lying to him.”

“I know,”  JJ sighed. “I guess I just like having something that’s just ours. For now at least.”

Emily nodded, then handed JJ another shirt— a white button-up that actually did originally belong to the blonde— to put on. JJ grinned at her, but decided she would steal Emily’s Yale sweater to sleep in that night as payback. 

A few minutes later, they both left Emily’s apartment in separate cars, still attempting to maintain the façade of ‘just friends’ for the rest of the team. JJ ignored the lingering worries about her upset stomach, knowing that she’d gone to work feeling worse in the past. She once chased an unsub with a high fever and didn’t blink, she could handle an upset stomach. She had work to do. 

 ———

After the sun set that day, the March rain had turned to snow. JJ watched it fall on the drive to the motel, swirling around her vision and covering the ground in a patchy blanket. They had flown to Maine that morning to investigate a string of murders of young men in the woods, and they were staying in a tiny motel off the highway. 

JJ was fighting the urge to sleep in the passenger seat, as Emily drove along the dark twisty, hilly road. In the back, Spencer Reid was looking out the windows at the forest that surrounded them. 

Her stomach was upset, again. A sloshing feeling that made her scrunch her nose up. The speed that the car was taking the turns quickly and the motion wasn’t helping her nausea. 

She opened her eyes, almost certain she was about to vomit . She felt exhausted and worn out, despite having a relatively easy workday.

The media in the sleepy town of Ellsworth, Maine weren’t particularly demanding, as all JJ had to do was give a short statement to The Ellsworth American, which was the name of the local paper. The reporter was a relaxed guy, about thirty, with a scruffy beard and tired eyes. After a short phone call and a promise to reveal more information once the case was wrapped up, JJ was mostly done for the day. 

Her normal activities of liaising with the local cops went smoothly and she ended up spending most of her time on paperwork and bouncing theories back and forth with Morgan and helping Reid with his geographical profile. 

“Are you ok, JJ?” Emily asked, glancing over at her quickly before turning again to make sure that she was watching the road. 

JJ placed a hand on her own forehead, trying to quell the motion sickness by the sheer willpower. 

“I guess I’m still not feeling well,” JJ confessed with a groan.

“What are your symptoms?” Reid piped up from the back seat. 

She wasn’t surprised that this piqued his interest. For a boy without a medical degree, he still lived up to the ‘doctor’ in front of his name. 

“I threw up this morning,” JJ admitted. “It’s nothing.”

“And you’re experiencing motion sickness, now?” he asked. 

“Yes, doctor,” JJ said sarcastically, still not opening her eyes. 

“She doesn’t have a fever yet,” Emily offered, “She probably doesn’t have the flu.”

“And we all ate the same meals today,” Reid mused, “It’s likely not food poisoning.”

“Unless you went rogue and ate something out of the precinct’s vending machine,” Emily quipped, “Who knows how long those have been there.”

JJ shook her head, still not able to open her eyes against the sloshing of her stomach. 

She had actually barely eaten anything that day, as the takeout they had ordered hadn’t sounded particularly appetising. She was just trying to make it back to the hotel without asking Emily to pull over.

“Well,” Reid continued, “You could be pregnant.”

JJ didn’t say anything as his words hit her like a brick. 

“Early pregnancy symptoms include missed periods, as well as fatigue, smell sensitivity, morning sickness, food aversions, mood swings and… er- breast changes, frequent urination,” he continued. “Not to mention bloating and raised basal body temperature.”

JJ rolled her eyes in his direction, but not before an awkward silence engulfed them. Emily said nothing, waiting for JJ’s response to the suggestion. 

She couldn’t be pregnant, she reasoned internally, she hadn’t had sex with a man in ages. Then, a memory flashed across her mind, reminding her that that wasn’t entirely true. 

Just about a month ago, before she and Emily had gotten together, she had spent the night with William LaMontagne Jr., the New Orleans cop that she had met on a case months before. 

It was February and Will had called her, asking if he could visit. JJ had said yes, because, at the time, she had all but given up on Emily. She had been certain that the profiler didn’t like her back. 

She and Will had drunken, mediocre sex that evening after they left the bar. They had used a condom, obviously. There was no chance she was pregnant. Well, if she had said this out loud, she knew Reid would say there was a zero point three percent chance, or something like that. 

Was her period late? She tried to do the mental math, but the mental math and her car sickness weren’t producing a satisfying answer.

JJ ran her hands through her hair nervously, laughing off Reid’s words despite her racing thoughts. 

“Don’t worry,” JJ said with a laugh, “I think I would know if I were pregnant.”

Even as the words left her mouth, JJ knew she didn’t quite believe them. She did have morning sickness, fatigue and even what could be described as food aversion. She couldn’t tell if the emotions she had felt that day were the normal turmoil of working with serial murders or a symptom of something. 

“Or you could be exhausted by working back to back cases and this is your body telling you to slow down,” Reid said, clearly back tracking. 

“That’s probably it, Jayje,” Emily said, glancing nervously over at the blonde, who’s hand was rubbing her eyes against the glow of the street lights leading up to the motel.

“Yeah,” JJ said as they pulled into the driveway, sighing in relief as she stumbled out of the car, desperate for some solid ground to calm her stomach. 

She wasn’t pregnant. She was just stressed and overworked. They had had a bulk of hard cases this winter and it was taking a toll. Nothing more.

 ———

The case progressed relatively normally. The team built the profile and was able to track down a few suspects off some suspicious elements from their internet presence. 

They had narrowed it down to two men, who happened to live on opposite sides of the unsub’s comfort area.  After a stake out, the team finally caught the unsub on his way to revisit the crime scene.

After a long interrogation, they had gotten a full confession.

Leaving the processing to the local brass, the team was on a flight out of Maine that night.

They were seated side by side on the jet, with the table in front of them and a fast-asleep Hotch opposite to them. His head was leaning off to the side, his arms crossed in front of his chest. 

JJ curled up on her chair, her legs pulled up onto the seat, her usual blanket tossed over to Emily, as she was feeling uncomfortably hot despite the climate controlled private jet. 

“What’s wrong?” Emily whispered, noticing the face JJ was making, “Still nauseous?”

“I’m just tired,” JJ said. “I think it’s hot in here.”

Emily tilted her head slightly, looking back to JJ quizzically. 

“It’s not any hotter than normal, JJ,” she said. “You sure you're ok?”

“Maybe I am coming down with something,” JJ admitted. “It is the tail end of flu season.”

“Take the weekend off,” another voice joined their conversation. Hotch lifted his head up and was looking at her with concern. She guessed he wasn’t actually asleep after all, and was glad she and Emily hadn’t been whispering about other things.“We all need a break after these back-to-back cases.”

JJ nodded, knowing that she would still have her cell phone on, and that with her job, there was rarely any time off, but was happy to spend the weekend home instead of in a random hotel room. 

The plane landed in Quantico late that night. It was a rainy evening, and they had to walk quickly across the tarmac under a spare umbrella that Emily had tucked away in the carry-on compartment. 

Leaving the airport, once again in separate cars, JJ drove over to Emily’s, trying to clear her mind by listening to some music.

They had a system. An unspoken communication that meant that unless someone said otherwise, they would meet at Emily’s apartment once they were home. It was closer to work, not to mention much nicer than JJ’s tiny one-bedroom.

As JJ drove, Reid’s words were repeating themselves in her head. You could be pregnant. JJ bit her lip, trying to focus on the road. 

Nausea she could explain away. She had food poisoning, or the flu. Same with her lack of appetite. And the fact that her period was a few days late. The fatigue was from working so hard. 

But together? It painted a picture that JJ didn’t want to see. Pregnant? Off a one-night hookup that convinced her that the relationship wouldn’t go anywhere? Impossible. Improbable. Unlikely. 

What if she was?

Still, JJ found herself pulling into a gas station just outside of DC. She parked next to the store, taking a deep breath in and out before working up the nerve to go in.

She hopped out of her car and wandered into the shop, blinking at the brightness of the fluorescent lights and grabbing a few snacks before coming up to the shelf on which pregnancy tests were placed. There were two options: one much more expensive than the other. Assuming that it meant it was probably better, she grabbed two of that brand, adding it to the pile of chocolate and bags of cheetos in her arms.

I’m not actually pregnant, JJ assured herself. This is just to be sure. 

#criminal minds #cm #criminal minds tv #jemily #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss x jennifer jareau #jemily fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #my writing #enjoy!!!!!!! this is kinda random but here i go #gravelyhumerus cm baby au #tw vomit #tw will lamontagne #tw pregnancy #my post

[pinnithin]

invited home

This started as a “haha funnie gman eat a pizza” fic and turned into a soft little story about family. 3406 words.

Remembering etiquette was, perhaps, the hardest part of this.

The “hardest part of this” changed pretty frequently — often associated with whatever he was dealing with at the time. The week that took Gordon’s hand and very nearly his life was several months behind him, but he still heard the echoes of the Resonance Cascade in little things as the days passed. He heard it in the low hum of the air conditioner in his window and the backfire of a tailpipe outside. He kept the lights on at night and heard the echoes in his sleep.

It would never really go away, he guessed.

The best he could do, dealing with the hardest part of whatever his day brought him, was to simply keep living. A clockwork routine grounded him. He did normal things like buy groceries and hike in the county foothills - sometimes alone, sometimes with Tommy. Black Mesa and all the horrors it held may have broken the two of them, but they were slowly putting the pieces of each other back together.

So it shouldn’t have surprised him when he invited him to dinner with his father, right?

They were... well, they were something. Gordon found it difficult to call Tommy his boyfriend when they’d crash landed straight from acquaintances to partners in Black Mesa. The guy was the only reason Gordon was still alive, and he felt that he’d be repaying that act of kindness for the rest of his days. That sort of unwarranted devotion wasn’t exactly grounds for a normal courtship.

But this is what people did. They bought groceries and went for walks and had dinner with family. Tommy was offering this ritual to Gordon in an attempt to ground him, just like he helped him establish his other routines. It was in his best interest to take it.

The one story adobe in Sandia Heights was far more nondescript than Gordon was expecting, fitted cozily into the neighborhood on a street named Desert Finch Lane. It was evening, and the setting sun washed the walls a soft pink. The front lawn was xeriscaped with a bed of gravel and some strategic placements of yucca and saguaro, and a straight stone path marched right up to the front door. Gordon checked his phone one more time before he exited his vehicle - this house seemed far too normal to belong to someone like Tommy’s father.

No, the address Tommy sent him matched the numbers on the mailbox. Briefly, he glanced over the rest of the conversation as he reached with a free hand to kill the ignition.

T: Only if you want to! I know the last time you spoke was kind of weird... G: its fine it was a weird day haha G: no yeah id love to though G: do i need to bring anything? T: :D T: I guess you can if you want? It’s not going to be fancy or anything - we’ll probably order takeout. T: We just like to get together every month or so to catch up and I wanted to bring you along this time! No pressure. G: oh is this like G: a family thing? T: Well, yeah. Is that okay? G: its great! just checking G: see you then

T: :) T: See you.

A smile touched his mouth. Tommy rarely asked Gordon for anything, so he knew this was important to him even if he downplayed it. Gordon wouldn’t say he was a fan of Tommy’s father, but if Tommy wanted him to smooth things over after the Black Mesa incident, well, he’d try. For him, he’d try.

He didn’t know if Tommy’s father drank, so he passed on the wine, deciding instead that one can never go wrong with garlic bread. His eyes fell to the loaf he’d picked up from Albertson’s on his way over, still warm and wrapped in a foil package in the passenger seat.  He’d done the meet-the-parents dance a few times before - a lifetime ago, it felt - but none of his partners had ever mattered this much to him, and none of their fathers had ever been gods.

Remembering etiquette, he reflected, was the hardest part of this.

He slid out of the car, taking the bread with him, and marched up to the front door. It was painted a bright turquoise with the word Bienvenidos scripted across the middle in white decal letters. This struck him as odd, because Tommy’s father didn’t seem the type to care about suburban design motifs, but he only hesitated a moment before raising a fist to rap his knuckles on the door.

Only a few seconds passed before the door swung open, and relief rolled over Gordon when he saw it was Tommy in the doorway. He was dressed in his usual button up, the sleeves rolled to his elbows, and he smiled like a sunrise. Gordon grinned back. He didn’t think the rush of affection that overtook him every time he laid eyes on the man would ever really fade. 

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” Tommy answered, still smiling. “Come on in.”

He stepped back to allow Gordon entry, and his presence somewhat quelled Gordon’s trepidation as he crossed the threshold into Mr. Coolatta’s house. 

“I hope garlic bread is okay,” he said as Tommy shut the door behind him. His eyes caught the neat line of shoes in the entryway, and he began jimmying his sneakers off. “I wasn’t sure what we were having.”

“It’s perfect,” Tommy answered, turning from the door. He watched Gordon attempting to remove his shoes without the help of his hands with a hint of amusement. “Um, do you want me to take that?” he asked, indicating the bread.

“I’ve got it,” Gordon muttered distractedly, finally kicking off one shoe and then the other. “You didn’t grow up here, did you?”

Tommy watched the sneakers go flying down the hall, a laugh in his eyes, but he didn’t comment. “God, no,” he answered. “Dad downsized a couple years ago.” He paused, flicking a brief look around the room, before adding, “He decorated the place himself.”

Gordon followed Tommy’s gaze. It looked like a house, at a glance. There were throw pillows on the leather couch and an artificial plant rested tastefully on the coffee table. Picture frames and various ornaments adorned the mantle, functionally useless objects stuffed between photos of the Coolatta family through the years. His eyes caught a decorative globe, some pillar candles, and a geometric silver figurine before landing on a sunny portrait of a smiling child - Tommy, he guessed. A wall hanging of colorful overlapping rectangles covered the space next to the south window.

All at once, Gordon felt he was in a place that was trying very hard to be a house, without quite knowing what a house’s qualifying factors were. Aside from the photos, the only clue to the owner’s tastes was the record player against the far wall, crackling out music from a time period Gordon didn’t recognize. Something with a strange time signature and a dreamlike melody. It was possible the song was from an era that had not yet happened.

He looked back to Tommy and found him studying his face. “It’s nice,” he offered summarily.

Tommy laughed quietly through his nose. “I think he just went to the home decor section of Target and picked out some stuff he liked,” he said.

“Oh,” Gordon replied. “Y’know, now that you say it - yeah. Yeah, I can see that.” 

Tommy didn’t exactly look uncomfortable with Gordon’s presence in his father’s house, but he didn’t seem wholly relaxed either. The set of his shoulders betrayed him, as did his hands, which fidgeted at the seams of his pockets before extending to take the bread from him.

“Here, let me - we can put this in the kitchen,” he said, gesturing behind him. 

It was possible that etiquette slipped his mind as frequently as it did Gordon’s, and that made him feel a little better about the whole thing. He should have assumed as much - he and Tommy both used the skeleton of routine to prop themselves up, despite the fact that they found social rules tiresome at best. A necessary framework for people like them. Gordon allowed Tommy to take the package from his arms and followed him down the hall. 

The kitchen was a little more homey, if only for the healthy clutter of appliances on the counter. Two boxes from Dion’s Pizza sat on the island, and seeing them pulled an audible sigh of relief from Gordon.

Tommy noticed. “Yeah, we’re not - we don’t cook a lot around here,” he admitted, sliding the package of garlic bread next to the pizza.

“That makes me feel better about bringing over store bought bread,” Gordon chuckled. “Where’s uh,” he darted a glance around the room, as if the man in question would materialize if he mentioned him aloud. “Where’s your dad at, anyway?”

“Oh, he’s...” Tommy finished his sentence with a vague wave of his hand. “He’ll show up sooner or later.”

He didn’t seem concerned, as if his father disappearing to another time and place arbitrarily was something that happened a lot. It made sense - Tommy was self-sufficient to the point of being an outright loner - and Gordon guessed that Mr. Coolatta’s inhuman qualities probably didn’t lend to a very warm upbringing.

Tommy was watching him, observant as always. “He’s not really a bad person,” he said at length. “He just… he sees things differently.”

“Shit, man,” Gordon laughed and shook his head. “Sometimes I think you can read my mind.”

“Oh, I never told you?” Tommy responded, raising his eyebrows impishly. 

He didn’t seem to want to discuss his father any further, so Gordon laughed at Tommy’s joke and didn’t press it. They fell into a comfortable discussion, standing together in the kitchen and waiting on the third member of their little party. This part Gordon knew how to do - speaking with Tommy always felt like coming home, and while they were still learning things about each other, he never felt any pressure to behave in a way that wasn’t his whole, genuine self. He saw the slope of Tommy’s shoulders slowly relaxing while they talked, and felt himself mirroring him as the minutes ticked by.

Tommy’s father materialized in the time it took for Gordon to blink, one moment absent and the next present. Spooked, Gordon jumped slightly at his appearance, while Tommy uttered an unaffected and congenial, “hey, Dad.”

Mister Coolatta stood under the kitchen lights exactly how Gordon remembered him. His suit was as smooth and clean as his hair,  and he wondered if the man even thought about wearing anything else, much less owned a varied wardrobe. Tommy’s father was, in many ways, like Tommy himself. Tall and neat and watchful. Seeing them side by side, it was easier to envision them as family, and Gordon no longer wondered where Tommy picked up his carefully neutral expression from.

The man in the suit fixed his cool gaze on Gordon. “Mister Freeman,” he said. “It is, hm, good to see you again.”

Gordon extended a hand before he could lose his nerve. This was what people did. And while Tommy’s father may not necessarily be a person, that was no reason for Gordon to deny him the courtesy of a handshake.

“You too, sir,” he answered. “Happy to be here.”

Tommy’s father paused for a moment, studying Gordon’s outstretched hand with interest. “I trust the hand hasn’t been giving you trouble since your little incident?”

“Uh,” Gordon faltered only for a moment. “No. It’s been just fine.”

“Dad,” Tommy intoned quietly, passing a glance between his father and Gordon.

This spurred the man in the suit to recall etiquette, himself, and then Gordon was shaking hands with a god.

It was surprisingly normal, all things considered. His grip wasn’t quite as solid as Gordon expected, though that was less a testament to his grip strength than it was to his short-of-corporeal nature. His skin felt like something that was pretending to be skin, and it was the same temperature as the air around them. But he nodded and looked Gordon in the eye like any other man, so he guessed he’d had worse handshakes before in his life. 

Mr. Coolatta released him and angled his head to his son. “Forgive me for my lateness, I… had to take care of some things on the ah, ‘out-side,’ as it were.”

“It’s fine, Dad,”  Tommy answered, then added, “I picked up the pizza.”

His father’s eyes lit on the boxes, seemingly for the first time. “Dion’s,” he observed. “Excellent choice.”

After a short, awkward silence, Gordon blurted, “should we eat?” and Tommy sighed a grateful “yes,” before nudging his father toward the dining room.

As Gordon took a step to gather the pizzas into his arms, he felt Tommy skate his fingers delicately across the inside of his palm. 

“Thank you,” he murmured in his ear, quiet and just for him.

Gordon wasn’t sure what exactly Tommy was thanking him for, but he caught his hand before he could withdraw and gave a reassuring squeeze. He was warm and solid and alive, and it anchored him.

“We got this,” he told Tommy, smiling.

The dining room was another testament to Mr. Coolatta’s decorating tastes. Gordon was not quite successful in withholding a chuckle when he noticed a Live, Laugh, Love sign on the wall, and this earned him a gentle elbow in the ribs from his partner. Tommy was carrying a set of plates and silverware in one hand and some napkins in another.

When Gordon offered to help set the table, Tommy only shook his head mischievously, and the cutlery leapt from his hands on their own.

Right. He was dating a demigod. This was a detail Gordon often forgot about, if only for the fact that Tommy displayed his power in subtle, quiet ways that went unnoticed. Here, however, he had no such reservations.

This was a Tommy Gordon hadn’t gotten to see yet, and he caught himself staring as he set the table without even touching a plate. He handled himself with an ease he didn’t show out in public, manipulating space with a well-practiced comfort that indicated years of doing it this way. A Coolatta ritual, for Coolattas only. Gordon, an outsider, felt his nervousness slowly melt into gratitude at being invited to the table. He understood now - Tommy didn’t want Gordon here just to smooth things over with his father. He wanted to share his life with him, every jigsawed piece of it. 

Conversation was easier than anticipated. Tommy led the discussion at first, updating his father on his new job at the VLA in Socorro. Working with radios in the quiet desert, listening to the stars, seemed to suit him, and the fondness with which he recalled his nighttime shifts alone was genuine. Gordon tucked into his slice of 505 (pepperoni and green chile) and watched Mr. Coolatta’s facial expression as he absorbed the information.

The man sat perfectly still except to give acknowledging nods here and there, and his pizza remained untouched on his plate. At least, that was Gordon’s first assumption, until he realized the slice was gradually disappearing bite by bite every time he looked away. Mr. Coolatta’s face was impassive as always when Gordon gave him a questioning look, and when Tommy didn’t acknowledge the mystical pizza disappearance, he chose not to say anything about it.

“Mister Freeman,” the man in the suit said after a time, turning his swirling gaze on his guest. “It is my under-standing that you… have a new profession, as well?”

Gordon, figuring he’d picked up the “Mister Freeman” thing  from Tommy, didn’t bother to correct him. “Yeah, I’m teaching physics at NMT,” he answered.

He didn’t think he’d enjoy an academic environment all that much, choosing to teach as a backup while he pursued streaming in the meantime, but he was developing a fondness for it. His students were bright individuals, and some of them were just as weird as he was, which kept his days interesting.

Gordon wasn’t one to discuss his new job at length with anyone. It felt strange, after everything he lived through, to complain about something as trivial as grading papers or writing coursework. But Mr. Coolatta was among a handful of individuals who knew exactly what happened to him during his employment at Black Mesa, so he felt what he said next was entirely understood by everyone at the table.

“It’s a nice change of pace,” he added. “Things are better.”

“Yes,” Tommy’s father answered. “I have… heard the same from Tommy. It is, good to know that the two of you are, hm, recovering well.”

His tone was one step away from apologetic, and Gordon was sure he imagined it, but he was touched by the sentiment nonetheless. Tommy smiled softly down at his plate and didn’t say anything. They were recovering well, weren’t they? Finding a place for themselves. Learning how to be human again.

Gordon wasn’t sure, at first, if it would ever be possible. The Resonance Cascade was the worst thing that ever happened to him, but… Tommy was the best thing that ever happened to him. And even with all the complicated emotions that surrounded the Coolatta family, he was happy to be here. He was happy to see that small, private smile cross Tommy’s face. 

The evening concluded with Gordon and Mr. Coolatta getting into a discussion about whether a hotdog was actually a sandwich, with Tommy joining in as moderator and rewarding imaginary points as they each went over their arguments. They wiped out the pizzas handily between the three of them. When Gordon had to excuse himself to begin the drive back to Socorro, Mr. Coolatta initiated another handshake with him. It was only a little less weird the second time. 

“I’ll walk you out to your car,” Tommy offered.

The setting sun bled a soft orange onto the neighborhood as the two of them left the house. Tommy kept his hands in his pockets, just barely brushing shoulders with Gordon as they went.

“Thank you,” he said again.

“Yeah, thanks for inviting me,” Gordon responded. “It was nice.”

They pulled to a stop next to the station wagon. “Sorry Dad’s so…” Tommy trailed off and shrugged. “Like that,” he finished.

His eyes were down, studying the sidewalk as he scuffed the sole of his shoe on the concrete. His expression was drawn, but Gordon could see from the crinkle of his eyes that he was happy with how the night turned out. 

“Hey,” Gordon said.

Tommy’s eyes flicked up to meet his. His gaze was sharp and watchful, cutting Gordon in a way he found he liked.

“Don’t feel like you need to apologize for your dad,” Gordon said. “He’s cool. And I’m… Like, I’m glad you wanted me there. I had a good time,” he rambled further, “and it’s - I haven’t been to dinner with someone in a long time, and it was just - like it was really nice to just talk about stuff with family like that.”

Tommy’s mouth split into a smile, face flushing slightly as Gordon said the word ‘family.’ “Yeah,” he agreed. “It was nice. This is - we should do this again.”

The fact that there would be a next time sent a rush of emotion into Gordon’s chest. He loved Tommy, loved how trusting he was to invite him to such a private part of his life. Certainly this was difficult for him to do, but he allowed Gordon Freeman, of all people, to cross the threshold and see inside. He was close enough to be considered family. Sheer affection made him dizzy.

Tommy’s smile was infectious, causing Gordon to grin outright. “I’ll see you back home later?” he asked.

“Mm hm,” Tommy nodded. He leaned in, but stopped short when Gordon held up a hand in protest.

“Uh,” he intoned, pointing. “Your dad is totally watching us from the window.”

Tommy glanced over his shoulder and caught the dark visage of his father beyond the glass. He rolled his eyes, still smiling, and gestured with a hand. The curtains snapped shut at his command. “No, he isn’t,” he said.

They kissed on the curb, Gordon laughing softly into Tommy’s mouth. He was home already.

#hlvrai #freelatta #tommy coolatta #gordon freeman hlvrai #fanfiction #writing #pin talks #listen i think about tommys relationship with his father a lot.... #but this was not the fic for that #anyway please enjoy this was very sweet for me to write i smiled a lot #i love them.... #gman hlvrai

[rextasywrites]

Little Darling 3 - a Lady Dimitrescu x Mia Winters fanfiction

"Mia trashed around in her sleep, not able to find a minute of rest. ‘No...no...Rosy...Ethan…’, her whimpers were heard all over the floor, making Lady Dimitrescu and her daughters look up from their studies. The daughters shared looks while Lady Dimitrescu let out a sigh, standing up. “Let me handle this. I know how she is feeling.”, as she walked to the room Mia was staying in. Cold sweat covered the woman’s forehead, her face pulled into a grimace. ‘Oh Mia, how similar we are’, Lady Dimitrescu thought as she walked over to the woman caught in a nightmare called life."

two chapters in one day? this fic has taken over all my creative ideas atm! :D <3 <3 <3 hope you enjoy it! !!!Flashbacks are written in cursive!!!

Warnings: tw for the turning of Lady Dimitrescu and the abuse and torture she had to face before!

Part 1 Part 2

“No! No! Get away from me!”, Alcina cried out as the men stepped closer to her. Armed to the teeth and not in the mood to take prisoners. Dorina clung to her mother’s leg, not understanding what was going on. As Alcina had her back against the wall, she knew she was losing.

“Get here, witch. Go without a fight and we might let you live. But only might!”, a round of disgusting laughter spilled from the lips of the knights. In no time, they had Alcina and her children tied up, on horseback transported to the castle of the king. Once they arrived, everything went black for Alcina the moment a heavy piece of iron hit the back of her head.

The next thing she knew was darkness and pain. Alcina’s head throbbed as she looked left and right - she was the only one in a dark cell, sitting in some kind of unknown fluid that was staining her dress, leaving her shivering and feeling filthy. But at least these knights let her keep her clothes, which was an improvement to the last time she had been taken for ‘witchcraft crimes’. The only reason why she managed to walk free was because she helped the king with a serious illness. ‘Leave this kingdom and never come back’, they said to her. And that’s what she did. Barefoot and pregnant, she ran for her life and never looked back. But the past would always come to haunt her.

A small light was flickering in the hallway leading to the cell, once the candle reached a certain height, it managed to illuminate the cell a tiny bit. Mold was growing in a corner of the cell, making Alcina cough at the mere sight. Staying in here for too long would make her sick for life. How long has she already been in here?

The door to the cell was thrown open, some knights marching in. They wordlessly ripped the restraints off Alcina’s body, pushing her with them. Fighting back would get her killed, so she remained silent. Just let them do, and maybe they realize the mistakes they are making. But Alcina realized her mistakes the moment she laid eyes on the dead bodies of her children.

Mia trashed around in her sleep, not able to find a minute of rest. ‘No...no...Rosy...Ethan…’, her whimpers were heard all over the floor, making Lady Dimitrescu and her daughters look up from their studies. The daughters shared looks while Lady Dimitrescu let out a sigh, standing up. “Let me handle this. I know how she is feeling.”, as she walked to the room Mia was staying in. Cold sweat covered the woman’s forehead, her face pulled into a grimace. ‘Oh Mia, how similar we are’, Lady Dimitrescu thought as she walked over to the woman caught in a nightmare called life.

The knife was probably rusty but still good enough to cut into prisoners’ body. Alcina screamed in pain as her wrist was cut open, the blood pouring on the floor under the table she was restrained against. A man dressed like a plague doctor came up to her, pressing an unidentified ‘plant’ against the open wound. The wound sealed upon its touch, taking in the ‘plant’ under scraps of blood and regrowing skin. It felt like Alcina could feel the plant growing under her skin, sprawling through her bloodstream, burning like the fire she had used to keep herself warm just mere hours ago. Was it the mold she had seen in her cell?

And suddenly, the restraints felt like warm butter against her body, and with a quick movement, Alcina ripped them off her body. The changes were instantly present. Her muscle mass doubled in mere seconds, and any attack from the knights in the room felt like someone was brushing against her. Alcina threw the men against the walls of the mysterious room, breaking their necks with a few simple strikes. Once all the knights in the room were dead, Alcina broke free, noticing how her height was slowly increasing. Centimeter by centimeter, she felt larger and stronger than anyone or anything she had ever seen before. The feeling of power was something she could get used to.

After running amok in the castle, killing everyone and everything that came into her sight, Alcina threw all the dead bodies into the cellar to rot. Her babies got a funeral in the backyard of the castle, and word spread fast. A monster was living in the castle of Dimitrescu, ready to kill anyone that came close enough for it to smell the human. Was it a vampire? The locals tended to stay away from the castle, not in the mood to be murdered by a monster. And Alcina, now called Lady Dimitrescu in memory of the king she had slaughtered with her bare hands, only killed when she was very thirsty.

Mia gasped and sat up on her bed, shock and fear written across her face. Lady Dimitrescu was leaning against the doorframe, watching her with so much pity. She remembered the pain she had to go through hundreds of years ago as if it was yesterday. “Mia.”, Lady Dimitrescu whispered as she stepped closer to the woman in the bed, “Is there anything I can do for you?”

Tears welled up in Mia’s eyes as she thought of her dream. Ethan. Rosy. Slaughtered by the same man who slaughtered her like some pig in a den. “I-”, Mia choked out, but Lady Dimitrescu just placed a hand on her shoulder, showing her as much comfort as she could.

“You don’t have to say anything. I have been through the same pain before. It’s okay. Just let it out, Mia.”, and with those words, every dam in Mia’s body broke. Sobbing against the chest of a fucking vampire, Mia let out all the feelings she had kept hidden and locked away inside of her.

“It’s not fair! It’s not fucking fair! I just want a damn family and not deal with bio weapons!”, she cried as Lady Dimitrescu tightened her hug a little bit, staining her dress with tears and snot. “Ethan nearly died because of me before! Rosy might die because of me! What an useless bitch I am! I cannot even keep my family safe!”

Her cries of hate and sorrow filled the halls of the castle as she begged to every God out there for mercy and to let this nightmare end. But Lady Dimitrescu knew, any God had abandoned humans a long time ago. With soft ‘let it out’s, she was able to calm down Mia sooner or later, until the woman was exhausted from all the screaming and crying she had done.

“Here”, the door was suddenly opened with Cassandra standing in it. She was carrying a glass of cold water, handing it to Mia as she dried her face off the tears and snot in a handkerchief. “You must be thirsty after so much crying.”, instead of waiting for an answer, Cassandra left the room in a hurry, leaving Lady Dimitrescu and Mia alone again. Mia gladly drank some of the water, the incoming headache from crying already around the corner.

“You should try to rest now, Mia.”, Lady Dimitrescu said while she stroked over Mia’s back, giving her at least some comfort in these horrible times.

“Can you stay here? I am so scared.”, Mia asked the vampire lady to her surprise. But who was she to deny such a sweet request?

“Of course, Mia Winters.”, she chuckled. With a quick movement, she took off her heels and moved with Mia under the blanket, an arm around the woman. Lady Dimitrescu was cold all over, but this helped Mia with her incoming headache as she slowly relaxed into sleep. “Good night.”, Lady Dimitrescu said before she placed a kiss on Mia’s forehead, and for a moment, Mia could pretend she wasn’t in a castle in Romania with her family in danger.

#lady dimitrescu #resident evil #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #mia winters

[firefly-in-darkness]

Misconceptions - 1/12

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Y/N & Sam Wilson (briefly).

Summary: Bucky Barnes overhears a conversation that he shouldn’t have...

Word Count: 2k.

Warnings: Angst, heartbreak, jealousy...

Beta: The always lovely, Stacey - @princessmisery666 // all mistakes are my own.

A/N: This is one started as a dream and after bouncing ideas around with Stacey & Bee @negans-lucille-tblr​​, this was born and half way through writing I knew it would be more than a one shot.... Hope you enjoy - I love hearing your feedback too!

Series List

Firefly’s Library & Masterlist

Bucky glared at the mirror, he didn’t like wearing a suit or attending parties. He’d rather be out of sight, watching from a distance. Not chaperoning Y/N on a recon mission. He adjusted the bowtie, it still looked wonky. He gruffed at his reflection, put on the jacket and pulled through his shirt sleeves, letting the cufflinks glisten against the black velvet.

Once he placed the earpiece in, he left his room in the hotel suite and wandered over to knock on Y/N’s door. He faltered at the sound of her sweet voice floating through.

“I just wish you were here.” He heard her soft sigh, could see the way she’d twist the end of her hair in between her fingers.

Bucky strained to hear the other side of the conversation but even his super soldier hearing couldn’t work out who was at the other end of the phone call. His heart raced at the thought of Y/N wanting to be with someone else. Not with him, her supposed best friend.

“I’m worried about how he’ll react.” 

He scoffed, clamping his hand over his mouth and steadied his breathing in the hope she hadn’t heard him outside. 

He stepped away, knowing it wasn’t a good idea to listen in then he heard a giggle and muffled words, he leant his ear to the door.

“I can’t stop thinking about you and it’s driving me crazy.”

Bucky felt sick. She’s fallen for someone that isn’t him. His mind swirled with anger, or was it jealousy?. He pulled away from the door, fingers running through his now shorter strands of hair. He couldn’t hear anymore but his heart panged at her last three words.

“Love you too.”

Jealousy was similar to anger but what he felt now was definitely jealousy.

He bolted from the hotel suite without a second thought.

Ten minutes earlier….

Y/N spritzed the perfume across her collarbone, dabbing a bit behind her ear and her wrists. A quick glance to the mirror brought a smile to her lips; for once she was able to wear something glamorous. She checked her up-do was still in place, admiring how such an easy few pins could create an elegant look. The off-the-shoulder black dress sparkled in the light, she twisted and almost giggled as the floor length gown swirled around her legs, the split exposing her smooth, unarmed thigh. 

Finally, she was able to hang up her catsuit and its attached gadgets and weapons for the night. Well, she still had a pistol strapped to her other thigh, obscured by the skirt and of course the knives concealed in her heels. It might be a reconnaissance mission but things could always escalate.

Her smile faltered as she remembered the man in his own part of the suite, getting ready to support her in the mission; James Buchanan Barnes. 

Her phone ringing gripped her attention, a selfie of Sam and herself pulling silly faces was lighting up her phone. She pounced on it and held the device to her ear with her shoulder whilst she checked the blades were secure in her heels.

“Hi baby girl,” His smooth voice sent a grin to her face.

“Hey handsome.” She crooned back.

“How are you?” He tentatively asked.

She took the phone away from her shoulder, standing and smoothing the skirt. “I'm okay. This bed is huge.”

“You're changing the subject.” Sam scolded her.

Y/N knew that his eyebrow had quirked upwards and winced. Of course, he was checking up on her because of her mission partner.

“I don't know if I can handle this mission with him.” She sighed and sat back down in the chair, gliding the pendant of her necklace along its chain.

“Yes you can, it's only a recon mission. He's your back up.” Sam’s voice altered to that of her superior.

“I just wish you were here.” Y/N whined, and if she hadn’t refrained herself she might have stomped her foot.

Sam’s tone remained strong, not settling for her tantrum. “He's best qualified for this and you know it.”

“Yeah, you're right. it's one night.” She whispered.

“You still haven't told him have you?” Sam’s voice softened.

Y/N began pacing back and forth in front of the floor to ceiling window before heading back towards the door, “I don't know how to tell him. I’m worried about how he’ll react.”

He huffed, “Seriously! Go to his room right now and tell him how you feel.”

Y/N’s stomach lurched at his demand, “I can't. Not yet. He’s my friend and if I tell him this, it will make things awkward.”

“You know you need to tell him. Try it on me first. I can pretend to be the tin man, let me get into 

Character. Dark and brooding. Grumpy old man.”

She took a seat at the dressing table, a giggle falling from her lipsticked mouth, “Stop it. You’re being ridiculous.”

“Go on, hit me with your best line.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, and sighed, “I can't stop thinking about you and it's driving me crazy.”

“Yes, a little basic but whatever, now go tell him. If you don't then I will when you get back.” Sam chuckled.

She stood as apprehension filled her thoughts, alongside her fear of being rejected, “Don't you dare, this needs to come from me.”

“Okay sugar, good luck, text me. Love ya”

“Love you too” With her phone locked, she placed it into the clutch bag that complimented her outfit. 

Y/N’s head spun as she heard the suite door close, eyebrows furrowed as to why Bucky had left without her. She gathered her skirt and followed after him, in the hope to catch up with him before they entered the gala.

Y/N was not in luck, she entered the party alone. Even though her mind was reeling with uncertainty, she held her head high as she weaved amongst the guests and those carrying trays of canapes. Her eyes flickered around the room, trying to catch sight of Bucky but kept being distracted by others attempting to make conversation about their businesses, charity donations and anything that made them seem better people than they really were.

Their mark appeared and Bucky was beside him with his back to her, a blonde woman draped on his arm. Y/N’s heart dropped into your stomach, and it churned at the sight of his arm wrapping around the strange woman’s waist and hand gliding down her back to grip her bottom. Her eyes went back up to their faces, focusing on whether or not this was a distraction technique from Bucky.

“I’ll be back in ten minutes.” She whispered into the comms.

Y/N’s dress swished around her feet as she darted across the room, glancing back to see Bucky watching her; his lips on the rim of his whiskey glass, eyes dark and jaw set tightly before he turned back to the woman. She shook her head at his lack of response and carried on towards the double doors leading to the elevator. A bodyguard stood to the side and she tripped straight into him.

“Oh my, I am so sorry.” She fluttered her eyes and let out a soft giggle, “I think it’s time for me to go to bed.”

“No worries ma’am,” He lifted her upright, a grin on his lips as he drank in the sight of her exposed cleavage and doe eyes. 

She clutched his arm as he guided her to the door, her other hand unhooking the access card from his belt.

“Let me get the door for you, Miss, take it easy.”

Y/N sauntered through, nodding as she passed him. Entering the elevator and giving him a small wave. She pressed the door close button before she swiped the stolen card against the penthouse access pad.

As the elevator ascended, she sunk against the metal wall, flicking her skirt to the side and unhooking the glock from it’s holster on her thigh. She checked the magazine, clicking back in place with the palm of her hand. The doors opened with a chime and she entered, gun raised while her eyes took in her surroundings. Not much had changed since she visited two weeks ago, learning the layout and setting up the bugs to gain an insight on the criminal.

Without hesitation, she strode down the corridor to the study and rolled her eyes as she pushed the door open. Not even locked, this is too easy. She rounded the desk, opening the lid of the laptop and entered the password. A smug smirk accompanied the wink she sent to the camera hidden in the bookcase knowing Sam was watching back at base.

She pulled out the lipstick from her clutch, taking off the lid to reveal the hidden USB drive. Plugging it into the laptop and downloading it’s contents. Y/N crossed her arms and tapped her foot waiting for the green bar to fill but it was painfully slow. 

“Are you ready to get out of here?” Her eyes widened as she heard Bucky’s voice through the ear piece. The sultry tone made her freeze from removing the USB stick.

“Okay, one more dance and then I’ll show you a real good time.” His words sent pangs through her chest.

A giggle drifted around your mind, they must have been inches away from one another.

“Oh Doll, don’t tease me like that. We don’t want anyone to see.” The term of endearment and the image of what they could be doing brought tears to Y/N’s eyes. 

She ripped the ear piece out and threw it into her clutch. A quick glance to the camera, she shook her head, knowing Sam had also heard what was happening. She detached the drive, leaving the penthouse and striding back to their suite as quickly as possible.

Y/N marched into her room, kicking off her heels and began attempting to get out of her dress. The zip getting caught, a frustrated groan rumbled through her body. She clambered at the tag, and eventually was able to pull it down her back and let it drop, pooling at her feet. Stepping out of it as she pulled the pins from her hair, letting it cascade down her back.

Once Y/N had put on her pj top and shorts, she grabbed her wash bag and headed into the bathroom. She brushed through her hair and pulled it back into a ponytail, removed her makeup and moisturised her face, focusing on the repetitive motion of massaging her cheeks. But then the tears began to fall, they were hot on her cheeks and her breath dragged harshly through her lungs, almost choking on the sob. She wiped away the tears with the back of her hand.

As Y/N rinsed her mouth and put her toothbrush back in it’s case, she heard the sounds of laughter and stomping outside. Even though she felt sick at the sound of their happiness, she yanked the door open and walked out the bathroom. Y/N found them, bodies backed against the wall, in a state of undress; Bucky’s bowtie was hanging loose, the shirt open and his pants discarded down the hallway and her in a tiny lace set that didn’t leave anything to the imagination.

“Oh, who’s this?” The high pitch squeak from Bucky’s companion grated Y/N’s nerves.

Bucky spun around, “Oh that’s just a friend. Staying in the other room.”

Y/N stormed past him to her room. She heard the laughter pick up and the door shut to his bedroom. The giggles began to drift into moans and she knew she wouldn’t be able to handle it. She plugged in her earphones to her cell and blasted the music whilst she filled the cabin bag with her belongings as quickly as she could.

With a quickly scrawled note on a napkin, placed on the bed for Bucky to find in the morning, she left the hotel without a second thought.

Continue Here...

#Bucky Barnes x Reader #Bucky Barnes Fanfiction #Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes Fanfic #Bucky Barnes Angst #Angst #Marvel Fanfic #Marvel #Fanfic

[darktammy]

The right kind of Love

My new romantic type of story I hope you all enjoy (if you want to be tag let me know) 

@beenlovingromansincedayoneish @bss-babygirl @living-the-life-1996 @moxleybabe @sausagefest1996 @sassymox @fabulousrockstar 

It was early morning when she woke up. Looking up at the ceiling she start to think about what she was going to do today. Not sure she got up started to stretching out as she walk into her bathroom. After some time past she was wearing some jeans with a black tank top and some black boots. She takes one look in the mirror with a smile on her. “I’m ready to go.” She said grabbing her things and heading out the door. Once she head out her building her smile drop from her face as she saw the black SUV. “Hello, Y/N sir Roman is waiting for you.” The driver said. She nodded her head as she walk to the car getting in.

She was in the car driving to her boyfriends home Roman Reigns. Yes the both started dating after he and his now ex-wife finales their divorce papers. After that Roman was looking for her and only her. Then he told everyone in the back that Y/n was his girl and no one can have her, not even Finn Balor which she was eyeing for while. Finn knew Y/N eyes where on him, it made Roman very jealous at the time, but now that was dead and done.

The car park by the home were Roman lives. She got out of the car marching right into his home.  “That was not right Roman and you know that. I hate when you do this to me.” She yelled. Roman just waved off his workers while he got up and walk towards you. “Baby girl how many time do we have to have this talk.” He said to her. She shock her head as she move back from him. “No Roman I’m tried of this, everyday it’s the same thing you watching me you making me come here everyday I’m just so fucking sick of this!” As she stomp her feet. Roman toke a deep breath as he look down at her. “I think it’s time for you to sit and eat breakfast with me.” Roman look only see her walking out of the kitchen. “Y/n hey come back here. Shit!” Roman walk back into his bedroom just so he get can dress.

Y/n walk out and flag a taxi just so she can get in and get away from Roman. Roman ran out of his home only to see that she was long gone. While in the cab she starting to think about her past before she end up in this mess. 

                                               Flashback

She walk into Vince’s office with a smile as she show him the story for Otis and Mandy Rose. “Sir what do you think?” She smiled at him. “Y/n I love it will work on it right way call those two in so they can remember there lines.” Vince said with cheer in his voice. “You know Y/n you're one of our best writers we have hired. I’m glad you're on team WWE.” It made her smile with joy. “Thank you Mr. McMahon I won’t let you down.” She said. Y/n got up and walk out of his office with smile on her face. Back at the hotel that was rented for the WWE superstars and staff, she was sitting at her laptop writing more story lines for the guys in NXT. She had a smile on her face when she was thinking about Finn. Then a knock was heard so she got up and answered. “Who?” She ask. “I think you know the answer to that love.” With a heavy Irish accent. She smile as she open the door to see Finn. She pulls him right into her room.

“You know Finn you could get in trouble for this.” She giggle at him as Finn carried her then lays her down on the bed. “Who gonna know about it love.” He said as he slowly start to kiss her neck. “Oh Finn why do you have to be a tease?” She question him as she sat up and start to pull his shorts down. His was already hard like a rock. “Oh baby I’ve been waiting for this.” She told him as takes his whole cock into her mouth. Finn closing his eyes with a smile on his face. She was bobbing her head while Finn starts moaning from the bliss of joy his feeling. “Oh hold on there.” He stops her from going any faster. “Oh babe no way I’m gonna cum inside that pretty little mouth of yours open them legs wide.” He demand, and that what she did. With his hard cock entering her she moaned with joy feeling him entering her pussy. She looks up at Finn as she nodded for him to go. Without thinking twice Finn started trusting Y/n making her moan his name. 

She look into Finns eyes as she felt him go faster. “Oh Finn please if you keep this up I might just come before you.” Finn went as fast as he could making them both reach they're high. They both look at each other with smile as they kiss each other.

                                            Flashback Ends

Y/n had a small tear fall from her face as she looks at to see her stop. She thank the driver as she walk right into a small coffee shop. She walk in and order her drink and small muffin. Then she sat in the back where sis didn’t want to be seen. She sigh as she drank her coffee. “Hey Y/n is that you?” She look over as she heard a rough voice she smiled. “Jon Moxley how the hell have you been?” She smiled as she gave him hug. “Nothing much just loving life about to be a dad soon.” He smile. “Congrats on that I’m so happy for you guys. Please sit I mean we have a lot to talk about.” As they both sat Jon had a smile on his face as he could remember it like it was yesterday. The both of you first meet back in WWE when she was trying to help him become a big star, but Vince had other plans for Jon when he was Dean Ambrose. 

The both of them hit off great like brother and sister and yes Jon knew about that night with her and Finn. Jon being a big bro wanted to kill him but all thanks to Renee she stop him. “Well I guess you heard about what happen with me and Roman.” He nodded as he took her muffin and ate. Making her smile a little. “Yeah that’s just mess up, I mean…” She nodded as she look out the window. “But now I just want to know if it’s true, did you get fired from WWE?” She look at Jon as she nodded. “Was it because of Roman?” She nodded again. Jon lean forward and place his hand on yours. “Hey tell me all about it while I drive ya someone were you might like.” She smile as they both got up and headed to his car. 

On the way Y/n told Jon everything about that day. She told him what Roman did to make her and Finn end their relationship. Some how it back fired on Roman and Y/n was the one who got fired on that black Wednesday. Right along with Brodie Lee and few others. Then she look to see a building that had the words AEW on top. “Jon you know this is not a good idea.” She told him. “And I’m not going to see my sis be depress alright. Let’s good my boss Tony Khan just might need someone like you.” She laugh a little as she remember a Mortal Kombat charter by that name. They both walk right in and head straight to the back where Tony’s office is. On the way you look over to see some man pretty tall with shades on wearing some jean pants and white tee shirt with a picture of himself on it. His hair short blond with a small beard. He look up at Y/n and smiled a little. She wave at him as she look back at Jon. “Over my dead body.” Y/n laugh as Jon open the door as they both walk in.

Roman sat at the dinning table waiting on any news from Y/n. “Sir we found her, but you might not like the news.” One of the man walk in a little worried. “Roman got up and sigh. “Alright what is the problem?” He ask. “She was found with your old friend Jon and they both went to AEW’s building.” Roman look at the pleats that we're on the table with anger he slide them to the side as he yelled. “Jon I love him, like a bro, but this is taking it too far. I’m trying to get her old job back, but Vince is being a hard ass with me right now.” Roman said walking away leaving not but a mess of broken dishes on the floor. 

#orange cassidy #roman reigns #finn balor #jon moxley #tony khan #aew fanfiction #WWE #fan fiction

[cupiiid]

//March 27th 1967//

Chris heard the door close from her place on the floor. "Babe, I'm home!" Ginny's cheery voice bounced from the doorway. She heard the clatter of keys and the dropping of a bag. it all she could think about was how much of a disaster her day had been. First, she'd been late to the office because her train had been late, then she realised she'd forgotten her lunch and finally, the asshole higher-ups had humiliated her again because she was a woman. If was bullshit! She was better than half the fuckers there.

"Honey?" Chris was snapped out of her thoughts by the sound of her lover's voice searching for her.

"'M in here, Gin," she whined from the floor of their living room. Before she knew it, Ginny was standing over her, a confused look on her face, tilting he'd head in that adorable way she did that made her look a lot like a puppy, a habit she'd adopted from Neil.

"What're you doing down there, love?" Chris groaned again and put her hands over her eyes. She felt Ginny sit down next to her and pull her head into her lap, gently stroking her hair.

"Rough day?" She asked gently. Chris nodded, not removing her hands from her face. "D'you wanna talk about it." Chris sighed.

"It's just been a bunch of shit honestly." She removed her hands to get a look at Ginny, resting them on her stomach instead. She saw her lover's face harden.

"Is it those squares from the office again? If they've messed with you again, I'll kill them myself." Chris huffed a laugh at her lover's antics.

"It's just the normal stuff, no need to get involved." Ginny gave an irritated sigh.

"It's not fine, Chris. They're treating you like shit for no reason. Your writing is incredible! Why does it matter that you're a woman?" Chris smiled up at her, the other woman didn't notice, too caught up in her antics. "It's such bullshit! Do you think Todd would have to go through shit like that? No. You've worked just as hard as he has and and people still don't take you seriously." Chris hummed and traced Ginny's lips with her fingers.

"Todd still has to deal with a lot of shit. Being a woman just isn't one of them." Ginny frowned.

"Yeah, that's true. Still sucks though. I hate having to watch people belittle you. You're the most amazing person I've ever met." Chris grinned and sat up, facing her lover. She took the brunette's face in her hands.

"Look, it sucks. I'm not going to tell you it doesn't. Everyday, I wish it wasn't like this and that I'd be respected by everyone but that's just the way it is." Ginny was about to cut in but she didn't let her. "But, that doesn't mean I'm going to stop fighting. I've earned my place here. Plus, I have you and Todd and Neil and Charlie and while I'd love outside approval, the only real approval I need is you guys'." Ginny's hands came up and over her own, smiling proudly.

"I love you. I love you so much." Chris leaned forward and met her in a dizzying kiss, trying to communicate the pure love and adoration she had for the woman in front of her.

"I love you too." She whispered into her lips. "I love you more than anything." Ginny's lips traveled down her throat and for a while, she didn't think of work (or anything other than Ginny for that matter) at all.

Some while later, the two of them sat of the couch together, watching the Andy Griffith Show. It was a nice evening, it was sprinkling lightly outside and the cool weather made Chris feel better. Around five thirty, Ginny checked her watch.

"Shit," she muttered. Chris pressed a kiss to her jaw.

"What's wrong, love?"

"Todd's out late tonight, meeting with someone about his book or something and I don't think he left Neil anything to eat." Chris snickered. Neil, as lovely as he was, couldn't cook for shit. If they left him to his own devices, he'd end up with burnt mac and cheese and half the kitchen blacked with soot.

"Should we invite him over for dinner then?" Ginny looked at her.

"Are you sure? We can just relax with the two of us if you're not up to it."

"Have him over, he is your husband after all." Ginny huffed before speaking.

"You know that's only a technicality, Noel!" She said before playfully hitting Chris on the shoulder as she laughed. Once their laughter died down, Ginny pressed her lips go Chris' in a silent thank you.

It was true. Earlier that year, all four of them had a wedding ceremony. First, a hurried one at a cheap chapel where Neil and Ginny exchanged vows (trying their hardest to make the other laugh) before Chris and Todd did the same thing (also making up total bullshit). Then, after that trainwreck, once they were legally married to avoid suspicion, the four met their friends in Chris and Ginny's living room for a real (and very much illegal) wedding.

Neil and Todd went first, Charlie as Neil's best man and Jeff as Todd's while Knox 'officiated' the rest of them crowded around in the way too small room and cheered once they kissed at the end.

Ginny and Chris were second. It's still the happiest day of her life. Even though she's legally married to Todd, the look on Ginny's face when she read her vows and the hollering and champagne and cake made everything worth it. Cameron was her own best man, Charlie's partner, Alex, being Ginny's (those two had made fast friends and they were overjoyed to be Ginny's best person)

They were luckier than most. They had managed to find a house for people like them in New York, two buildings connected by a basement door. Chris and Ginny lived in one with Neil and Todd in the other, creating an allusion of two straight couples living next to each other instead of the truth, one person from each household being able to switch quickly if necessary. She wouldn't give up this little life if hers for the world.

Chris got up to start making the pasta as Ginny ran to go fetch Neil. As the water was boiling, the two brunette's trailed into the kitchen, Neil carrying a bottle. He smiled brightly when he saw her.

"Chris! Thank you for having me over." He pressed a kiss to her cheek before passing the bottle to Ginny and leaning against their dining table. "I brought some wine as a way to thank you." He smiled his classic Neil Perry grin as Ginny examined the label.

"Neil," she snorted, reading the label. "this is grape juice." Chris burst out laughing as Neil hurried over and took the bottle from Ginny.

"No, no, I could've sworn this was wine." The two women laughed at Neil's fumbling.

"Jesus Perry, you get one role without me and you become a mess!" It was true, for one of the first times in their careers, Neil had gotten a rather large role without her. Shortly after, Ginny had managed to snag an equally impressive part in another show but it still felt weird not seeing them together.

Neil grinned and rolled his eyes. "Well, it'll have to do."

Neil sat at the dining table as they worked on the spaghetti, not trusting him to help after what happened last time. Once the dish was done, the three of them migrated to the living room with their plates and glasses of grape juice.

They squished on the couch that was really only made for two (there was another couch plus a couple of arm chairs but that couch had the best view of the television and none of them were going to give that up) and watched some sappy soap opera that was playing while laughing at the characters and talking about their days.

"...and then Lizzie stepped on my toes again!" The girls wheezed, almost falling off the couch in the process. "It's not funny! This is the seventh time it's happened!" Ginny wiped tears from her eyes.

"Like you didn't do that when I taught you how to dance, you hypocrite!" Neil waved his hand around wildly.

"Yeah- when I was seventeen!" The hysterics dies down after a while and they all sat in a comfortable silence.

"Do you remember when I taught you to dance so you could impress Todd at the Welton-Henley dance in highschool? The one Chris snuck into." Neil nodded along knowingly. Chris looked at them shocked.

"That's what you two were up to?" She asked. Neil nodded.

"Yep. And if didn't even work." He sighed. Chris looked at him indignantly.

"Are you kidding?!? You should have seen him, he was all over you when you danced with Ginny. We couldn't stop looking at you two all night." Neil blushed before realising her words.

"Wait- we? You were looking at Gin?" Now it was Chris' turn to flush as she felt Ginny's eyes on her.

"Well... yeah. That's what got Todd and I bonding in the first place. Both of our pining for two hopeless theatre kids." She was met with two sharp 'hey!'s.

After Neil had left, they got into their bed and Ginny circled her arms around Chris' waist, resting her head on the nape of her neck. Chris hummed in content. "Was what you said earlier true? About watching me that dance?" Chris laughed and placed her hands on top of Ginny's.

"Of course. I couldn't take my eyes off you. I drank so much spiked punch just to get away from the feeling really." She felt a soft press of lips to her neck.

"I love you, Chris. I love you so much I don't even know how to describe it." Chris turned in her arms to face her lover.

"You're such a sap." She said lightly, tracing her face with her fingers. Ginny closed her eyes and reveled in the feeling. "I love you too. So much." A smile tugged on the brunette's lips.

Chris' life wasn't perfect by any means. She was living as a lesbian with a secret lover in 1967 and trying to make her way as a journalist in a male dominated industry while misogyny ran rampant without consequence. It would always be hard, at least to a degree, but right here, in bed with the person she loved more than anything in this world, all was good.

#just a sweet drabble #i feel like i do so much anderperry so i wanted to give these two some spotlight #i love them <33 #ft neil because i love this dynamic #dead poets society #chris noel #ginny danbury #dps #noelbury #neil perry #todd anderson