#without whom it would’ve at LEAST taken me a lot longer to get around to it

[altschmerzes]

cant think of a better way to watch the new ted lasso episode than with @anguishmacgyver, the person who persuaded me to watch it in the first place…

#gav gab #im so hyped for this #not gonna liveblog it or anything so no worries about spoilers gang just #expressing my appreciation for my lovely friend here #without whom it would’ve at LEAST taken me a lot longer to get around to it

[nat-20s]

Part 5 of Wonderful! Au. *boyband voice* banter’s back alright!

Also on AO3

~*~

Jon: Hello everyone, and welcome back to our regular format. If my husband being horribly soppy-

Martin:-hey!-

Jon: -turned you off the how, this should be a refreshing return to formula, though I can’t guarantee there won’t be further horrible soppiness-

Martin, performatively under his breath: -most people thought it was charming-

Jon: -as that tends to happen when one is recording with the love of their life. If last week’s episode is the only one that you like, too bad, I’m back in full form, and should be at least through the rest of the season.

Martin: This show doesn’t have seasons? Due to the whole lack of a narrative thing?

Jon: I was referring to spring.

Martin: Oh, right.

[A beat passes.]

Martin, flatly: Oh. Great goof hon.

Jon, smug: Thank you.

Jon, sincere: Also, before we get properly started, I did want to actually thank everyone who sent well wishes.

M artin: Yes! We got positively inundated with lovely messages, it definitely brightened both of our days. I would even say it was wonderful.

[Jon groans.]

Jon: I am..not proud of the energy we’ve created for this episode so far, and we haven’t even hit the small wonders. Speaking of, do you have a small wonder this week?

Martin: Mine’s bad action movies.

Jon: Really? I had no idea you even liked them, let alone consider them wonderful.

Martin: Okay, so, saying I like them is a bit of a misnomer? It’s more that I like what they can do more than the movies themselves?

Jon: Elaborate?

Martin: It probably comes as a surprise to no one that I’ve tried my hand at a fair amount of mindfulness and mediation techniques. I’ve found poetry and journaling have been helpful for actually processing life events and whatnot, but when it comes to giving your brain a hard wipe and reset, nothing is half as quick and effective as a shitty shoot-em-up. Somethings about 2 hours of cartoonish, pg-13 violence held together with the absolute loosest of plots brings me to a state of mental blankness that would make a monk jealous.

Jon: How have I never witnessed you doing this? When are you sneaking off to go see Micheal Tarantino or who ever films?

M artin: That’s definitely not the right name.

Jon: Martin, dear, I don’t care. And you’re dodging the question.

Martin, fond: I’m not dodging anything. Since apparently we’re getting into it, you haven’t caught me cavorting with a movie involving more explosions than character development lately because I haven’t been. Haven’t needed it, in recent years. Turns out when you’re not crushingly lonely and working a literal nightmare of job, there’s less of a drive to try and escape your own thoughts. Shocker, I know. Still, to anyone out there that feels like their brain is on fire, go try watching a fast and furious. Any of ‘em, it doesn’t matter. Or even better, Chronicles of Riddick. I can’t remember a single goddamn detail of that movie, which makes it perfect for what I’m talking about.

Jon: I have the strong feeling that th is is a “mileage may vary” scenario.

Martin: Well, yeah, that’s this whole podcast. Plus, I imagine that movies like this would cause more stress to someone who cares about, say, world-building or rules consistency.

Jon: I wonder who you could possibly be referring to.

Martin: It’s a purely hypothetical person, love, don’t worry about it. Any small wonders?

Jon: Yes! Particularly relevant to the last week, my small wonder is stripping the sheets from your bed when it’s been too long between washes.

Martin: How very specific. M ost people would just say ‘clean sheets’.

Jon: Well, for one, I’m fairly certain that we’ve already covered clean sheets-

Martin: Shit, have we? Thank god other people keep track of this, otherwise this show would be unbearably repetitive.

Jon: Christ, yes. I typically check the website a good three times while prepping, and every about one out of those three times I find I’m trying to do an topic we did 30 episodes again. Anyway, um, it’s just nice, I think. When you’ve been too busy or sick or away for awhile, tossing the sheets in the wash makes a room instantly seem nicer. Of all the chores out there, this one, at least for me, has the highest reward to effort ratio.

Martin: Hard agree. Especially when the y have that slight funk of having been around to long, getting rid of that is such a relief. Speaking of, we need to change our sheets soon.

Jon: We can do it after the episode. Who goes first this week?

Martin: Considering last week was only me talking, I’m gonna say it’s you.

Jon: Alright, then. My first thing this week is Martin K. Blackwood.

Martin: Absolutely not!

Jon: Oh, you can do a whole episode on me, but I can’t do one little segment on my husband, whom I love very dearly?

Martin: Not while I’m sat here, no!

Jon: So you’re saying you don’t want me to tell the internet that your resolve to be kind even in the face of indescribable cruelty is one of the mot breathtaking things I’ve ever witnessed, or how I find it incredibly endearing when you get so emotional that your voice comes out as a squeak, or even that, on a more base level, you’re very physically attractive, and I could lose entire days thinking about your arms alone?

Martin, audibly blushing, voice the aforementioned squeak: Oh my god, Jon!

Jon, laughing: Then it’s probably for the best that my actual first thing is best friends.

Martin, peaking the audio levels: Oh you absolute bastard! Do you enjoy this? Do you get some sort of perverse sense of entertainment from riling me up?

Jon: Oh, don’t you start. As if you’re not as bad as I am. Maybe even worse.

Martin: That’s not…

Jon: Yes?

Martin: Okay. Maybe it’s slightly true. Really, what is romance for if not flustering your partner with compliments?

Jon, teasing: I certainly can’t think of anything.

Martin: Hush, you.

Jon: No, I don’t think I will.

Martin: Fine. I suppose you can tell our delightful audience about the power of friendship or whatever.

Jon: I would’ve assumed more enthusiasm, considering this segment is still, indirectly, about you.

Martin: In what way?

Jon: In the way that, to the shock of all, you’re my best friend.

Martin, pleased: Oh, is that what I am?

Jon, exasperated: Yes, dearest husband, I wouldn’t have married you otherwise. Though, upon reflection, I knew you were my best friend before I knew I held romantic feelings for you.

Martin: When was that?

Jon, letting out a breath that vibrates his lips: God it was...2016? I think it might’ve literally been the day after you told me about your CV.

Martin: That early? Huh. I wonder if that’s what people were picking up when they said they we were close.

Jon: What people?

Martin: I don’t know specifically, that’s just what Daisy told me.

Jon: Daisy? When the hell-?

Martin: It...was when she was interrogating me? And, because sometimes I have to be a parody of myself, pretty much my only take away from that interrogation was “people think me and Jon are close”.

Jon: Well then. It’s not like they were wrong.

Martin, smug: No, no they weren’t.

Martin, sincere: And you’re my best friend, too.

Jon: I was certainly hoping that you’re in this relationship for more than my good looks and incredible fortune, both in the monetary and luck sense.

Martin: You say that as if you aren’t good looking, which we all know is patently untrue.

Jon: You’re biased. You’d say I was good looking if I were nothing more than some primordial ooze with thoughts about its station.

Martin: I’m being completely objective. If you were primordial ooze with thoughts above its station, you’d be the cutest ooze of them all. That’s just scientific fact.

Jon: I’m starting to think we might be insufferable.

Martin: Starting to? Might be?

Jon:…

[Jon clears his throat]

Jon: What I find wonderful about the concept of best friends is, to me, they’re the closest thing real life has to soulmates. I don’t personally believe that there’s some..grand mystic force that drives people to be tied together in the manner that narrative typical soulmates are, and if there was I don’t think it would necessarily be the kind of emotional, heartfelt bond one would hope for, but I do believe that there’s individuals that get to know one another, and because of that knowledge, they chose to stick with one another. It doesn’t have to be a romantic, which is why I say best friend rather than specifically ‘spouse’, but I would argue that the basis of a strong romance like you and I have, is very much rooted in that connection. A true best friendship is an equal partnership, and there’s a sense of..matched sensibilities and understanding that can be utterly incandescent when it happens.

I also think that having one or more best friends makes living life on a day to day basis both better and just flat easier. The dark times aren’t as dark, and the bright times shine even more. I know from my own personal experience there are events that I..that I don’t know how I would’ve made it through without you. Hell, last week my..recovery period would’ve taken much longer if you hadn’t been there.

It’s an amazing thing to have someone to share things with, both triumphs and burdens. Um, also, according to Dictionary.com, the term best friends in English has been around since the 1200s. Something about that delights me, like, yes, we’ve had this casual way of referring to a Favorite Person for roughly 800 years. That makes it a hold-out from early Middle English. I dunno, it’s one of those things that make me feel overall very charmed by humanity.

Martin, audibly smiling: No, yeah, hard agree.

Jon: What’s that look for?

Martin: Nothing. Just. I love you a whole lot, you know that?

Jon, voice soft: I may have heard you say that once or twice. Per hour.

Martin: Only that often? I really need to be more diligent about that.

[There’s a bet of silence, presumably where they’re making doe eyes at each other.]

Jon: What’s your first thing?

Martin: Oh, um, right. Rats!

Jon: The expression or the animal?

Martin: Jon, have you ever once heard me say “rats” as an expression? Obviously I’m referring to the animal.

Jon: Ah. Should’ve known, considering that what, a third?, of all your segments have been on animals.

Martin: Yeah? And? You got a problem with critters? With creatures? With lil guys?

Jon, laughing: No, no, it’s very sweet. I’m just surprised you never became a vet.

Martin: Oh believe me, I wanted to. But then I learned that it was not, in fact, a job composed entirely of getting paid to play with other people’s pets.

Jon: You had that job, though, didn’t you? I thought I remembered you mentioning a month long stint at a doggie day care.

Martin, sighing dreamily: Best job I ever had. Too bad that place was shut down after it was revealed to be a money laundering front.

Jon: Good lord.

Jon: Martin did you...did you know it was a money laundering front at the time?

Martin:

Martin: Would it make you feel better if I said no?

Jon: Martin!

Martin: I figured it out like a week in, but, like, who cares? The pay was decent and the floor was super easy to clean, which is very much a plus for even a front of a doggie day care.

Jon: That’s...rather a lot. How about instead of getting into that any further, you tell me about rodents.

Martin: I would love to. But first, we have a shoutout!

Jon: Ooo, a shoutout. Does it specify who should read?

Martin: Let me check. It...does...not…..

...

Jon: Martin?

[A beat.]

Martin: Right! Sorry, um. This week’s shoutout is from Tim, to Danny. It says, “Danny! My favorite person who shares genetic material with me! I wanted to say thank you for your podcast obsession from 4 months ago, and specifically for telling me about these marrieds. They’ve gotten me through many a dull hour at the publishing house. Also, with this shoutout, I’ve officially gotten ahead on the Superior [Last Name Redacted] Brother scoreboard, so suck it. Love you lots, and looking forward to your visit next month, Tim.”

Jon: Oh.

Jon: Um. That’s very..sweet? I think? Mostly?

Martin: Yeah, I’d say so. Uh. We have to take a quick break because, uh, someone is..at our front door! Be back with you all in, from your side of things, just a moment.

#wonderful! au #jonmartin #jon sims #martin blackwood #>:3 #shoutouts are their versions of jumbotrons btw

[maraudereestauderelb]

Touched

A Duff McKagan smut One Shot

Prompt: You go to a concert with one of your friends and band mates, who's having a thing with no other than the band's guitarist Slash. After the show you get to meet Duff McKagen and somehow end up having your first time with him.

MASTERLIST

Warning: sex (duh)

"They're good aren't they?", Y/F/N shouted over the loud music. "Amazing!" "Told ya!"

We were dancing along to the loud music and enjoying ourselves. It had taken her quite some time to convince me to come with her instead of heading for the Troubadour with our other two band mates. Apparently coming with my bassist had been the right choice though.

After a world tour, a successful album and quite a bit more money in my bank account than before we had left LA, I still felt more at home right here. In a rundown club on the strip with a still upcoming rock band on stage.

Y/F/N and I had fit in perfectly. Nobody would recognize just the two of us having a great time and getting drunk. Except maybe the group of aspiring musicians and rising rock bands of the strip. In this circle everyone knew everyone, knew in which bands they had played, who they were associated with, had partied together before and so on and so forth.

That was exactly the reason why we had ended up here. The lead guitarist used to play in a band called Road Crew and had surely attended one of the parties at our trailer before. Y/F/N knew him and she had told me he was in a new band that was very close on getting a record deal. "You gotta check them out! Heard they're fuckin good", had been the argument that had won me over in the end. Not so much her initial reason to come here. That being the fact that apparently the guy had been an awesome fuck and she wanted to get laid by him again.

Now being here, I didn't regret it. I was having fun! And I was back in my usual habitat and in a situation that was familiar. If after the concert she wanted to leave with her black haired curly-head she was free to do so. Either I'd bump into someone I knew or would simply head home and call it a night.

The singer seemed familiar as well and if I remembered correctly Nikki had left his ass outside at one of their parties.

"Yo, what's the lead singer's name again?", I asked Y/F/N. "Oh that's Axl. Hollywood Rose, remember?" "Oh yea, right!"

I got why those boys were apparently very close to making it. Shit, was Guns n' Rosesgood!

Y/F/N had successfully gotten us all the way through the crowd to the stage, where we danced and sang along some more until the band was finished.

A few moments after the last song had ended the club put on some generic rock music and blasted them through the speakers.

"You gonna head backstage or wait here?" This wasn't the type of club in which the band would go off stage and head backstage never to be seen again. They had a small room for all of them to change and would then most likely come out to party. I knew, because we had played here before.

"He saw me, so trust me, he's gonna come to me", she grinned, and I once again admired her confidence.

It didn't take too long before Slash really showed up. He greeted me as well and congratulated on our album, so I told him what a sick guitar player he is. I give credit where it's due.

But I also understood that it was probably best for me to piss off now. So that's what I did. I figured I'd get one last drink and keep my eyes open in case of seeing anybody I knew. And for real I spotted a few people I knew from college who quickly waved me over.

After telling them the generic shit everybody wanted to know coming back from tour, it actually turned into a lot of fun to party with them. No coke but sure as hell a lot of alcohol.

It was hours later when they decided to leave and I had actually planned to leave with them

when I spotted a barkeeper, I knew. He had also attended a bunch of our parties and was a cool guy. So I sat down at the bar and joked around with him some more as the club kept getting emptier.

The club surely was anything but empty at one point, neither was it packed. It wasn't so crowded anymore, and I had completely lost track of time when someone sat down on the barstool next to me.

I didn't pay much attention and simply took another sip from my vodka lemon until he said: "You know, your friend's already gone, right?"

I turned to face him and recognized him as one of Slash's band members, right after I had been speechless for a moment because of how handsome he was.

"Yea, I know", I nodded and added grinning: "So is your guitarist, right?" "Obviously", he answered laughing: "Should've seen him backstage after the concert, couldn't get to her fast enough!" I joined his laughter, finished my drink and looked around. "Your remaining band member's left with a groupie as well, huh?" "No, fuckin idea where they are", he smiled and waved over to Jimmy, the barkeeper: "Another one of these for the little Rockstar here and I take whatever she has."

"Thank you", I told him with a soft smile. He waved it off: "I'm Duff McKagan by the way." "Y/N Y/L/N", I replied. "I know, was at one of your trailer parties before ya guys became famous." "Oh were you?", I asked surprised. I would've bet I'd recognize such a pretty face. Blond, tall, bassist. I was in fuckin heaven.

"You then ones with the trailer with the IV in the living room, right?" "Yupp, that's us", I nodded with a smirk: "Then I'm sorry for not recognizing you..."

"Don't worry bout it", he smiled: "Doubt we got the chance to talk...not that I wouldn't have wanted to..."

"We should have! Then I probably would've listened to you guys sooner! And Oh. My. God. You're amazing!", I gushed excitedly. "Thanks! Hoping it'll get us where you are now." "You'd have to be a complete idiot not to fuckin sign you!"

"I fucking hope so", he sighed and took a big gulp from his vodka: "You the song writer, right?" He suddenly changed the topic.

"Yes, why?" "I dunno", he shrugged: "When I first saw your music video on TV I couldn't help but fuckin wonder what complete asshole hurt this beautiful girl..."

His words hit me like a fucking train, because they reminded me of my former best friend Nikki Sixx, whom I had been stupid enough to fall for, but soon my drunken brain focused on something else: He thought I was beautiful...

"An asshole that's no longer a problem", I laughed. "Well cheers to that", the blond guy smirked and clicked our glasses: "Lucky me."

I returned his smirk and soon felt his hand on my thigh.

"How come you didn't leave with a groupie?", I tease him and sip on my glass. "Not my thing..." "What an utter liar", I thought. "And also", he went on: "I saw you in the crowd dancing next to your friend and knew exactly who to go for."

The way he looked into my eyes send chills through my body and I quickly took another sip from my drink.

"You alright?", Jimmy asked from further away to make sure I was fine, and I quickly nodded.

"You're pretty confident, huh?", I asked Duff. "Why?" "Well, what if that one girl you decided to go for wasn't interested?", I teased him.

Was I interested? I mean...damn he was hot and watching him on stage had been hot! His touch on my thigh made me feel hot! But for fuck's sake I didn't knowhim!

"That would be pretty sad for both of us", he shrugged and winked at me before looking at his glass and away from me.

Was he right? God, I could already feel the heat inside of me rising and a quiet voice in the back of my head reminded me that I had seen him shirtless on stage and wondered what it would feel like to touch him.

But damn it, I was drunk!

He lit a cigarette and I gave my everything not to stare at his lips for longer.

"I liked you better when you were funny and not seductive", I shrugged as well with a smirk and made him laugh. "Ouch, thanks!", he replied smiling: "In that case you'd have loved to see me lookin like an idiot when I got to Slash and your friend hours ago just to realize your gone."

"Maybe you should've hurried more, you know, the way your friend Slash did", I teased him more and calmed my nerves.

"He's just a funny guy", I told myself: "Joke around with him some more and then get your ass back home."

"Well, in the end you waited here for me anyway." "Rockstars don't wait for anyone", I joked and took the cigarette from him to take a drag as well. I could tell he was staring at my lips this time but was ripped out of his thoughts when I handed it back.

He cleared his throat and said: "Always wanted to fuck a rockstar."

I almost choked on my drink. That was my sign. The cards were on the table. I should tell him that this certainly wouldn't be the night he'd get what he wants and leave! But I was curious... so damn curious...

I couldn't deny that I was attracted to him! Maybe I could at least make out with him...find out what his lips felt like...there was nothing wrong about that.

"That's what the girls always tell you?", I tried to mock him but was too nervous to sound convincing. "You're quite a joker, huh?" "At least tryin to..."

"It's cute", he admitted. "Good, because I never run out of stupid jokes..."

"Trust me, I'd know a way or two to shut you up", he grinned to himself and took a last drag before he stubbed the cigarette out.

God, his words went straight to my core and put pictures in my head I hated but at the same time desperately wanted to happen. I wanted to find out what he wanted to do!

"Ya know what I always wanted to find out?", I asked without thinking about it twice. "What is it, gorgeous?" "If it's true that bass players don't just have skilled fingers when it comes to playin instruments."

I cracked the joke before I had thought about it. Why? Because I always had to listen to idiots tell me that and because I somehow really wanted to find out.

His smirk grew winder than I had seen it all night and it made me knees weak. "I can definitely show ya that."

"How about you first make me shut up?"

I had barely finished my sentence before I felt his free hand in my neck and soon enough his lips on mine.

I felt like melting right then and there! His lips moving against mine felt so good! But what started as a rather innocent kiss quickly became more heated. I grabbed the hem of his leather jacket, not to pull him closer but because I needed to hold on to something, anything."

His lips were moving against mine before he gently captured my lower lip with his. It was hard not too moan on the spot! And even harder when I tasted his tongue.

I damned those stupid barstools! I wanted him closer, needed him closer.

When we finally separated again my entire body was totally antsy!

"Speechless?", he asked teasingly. God, he was so damn hot!

I tried to think of something witty and fun, but I couldn't summon a single proper thought.

"You know...to prove the other thing we should probably move this somewhere more private...", he whispered into my ear and hadn't goose pumps already covered my entire body they definitely would have after he seductively kissed my neck.

I should tell him no. I should move my fucking ass back home.

But when he leaned back again and all I could think about was how I buried my fingers in his blond hair, I just nodded...

He had his arm around my waist when he let me out of the club and down strip. It was still dark and it wasn't hard to tell that there were still a bunch of parties going on in other places as well. Like I said, I had long lost my sense for time.

"My place ain't far from here", he told me and I nodded. Excitement was bubbling inside of me and gosh, I couldn't wait to kiss him again!

All worries and negative thoughts had been long gone as we walked through the cold night. I kept looking at him from the side and tried to hide the excited smirk on my lips. But

damn, he was even taller than I had guessed and looked so handsome in the dim glow of the streetlights.

I didn't know what to say. Where words needed?

I realized how he eyed me as well and a smug smile appeared on his lips. Shit, I wanted him. I had never felt this need for someone before, but I had also never allowed myself to get this carried away.

I bit my lower lip and tried to clear my thoughts but that attempt was quickly thrown completely over board when he suddenly pressed my back against the closest wall and kissed me. The kiss almost took my breath away.

Here I was standing on the strip with my back against the wall of some club and making out with a complete stranger. And it felt so right.

"Duff", I whimpered against his lips in a needy tone. "We should probably keep going, huh?", he smirked a little out of breath himself. "Except you consider this somewhere more private", I said with a grin on my lips but felt how he led me on with his arm around my hips once again.

"Wouldn't mind", he shrugged and lit another cigarette: "But I wanna take my time with you."

I swallowed hard and accepted the cigarette he wanted to share with me.

The next five minutes of us walking passed mainly without much talking but then I found myself in his one-bedroom apartment.

Alone with him now I felt the nervousness set back in.

So this was how it's gonna be?

"You want somethin to drink or anything?", he asked from behind me and I shook my head. Soon I felt him against my back with his arms around my body and his lips on my neck and shoulder.

I suppressed the low moan that had wanted to escape my lips and simply leaned back against him.

He had soon gripped the hem of my dress and pulled it over my head. A shiver ran through me but his warm hands that travelled my body soothed me and quickly found the clasp of my bra and opened it.

He was still kissing my neck when he whispered: "Turn around to me." I obeyed immediately.

The sight of my bare breasts exposed before him made him fight to contain his arousal as he hardened in his boxers. He lowered his head and wrapped his lips around my nipple. He sucked gently and I failed to find something to hold onto.

It was weird to be almost naked in front of him while he was still fully dressed, at the same time it made me feel excited.

"Get on the bed, I got something to prove", the blond haired told me smirking and I nodded. I tried not to run to the bed and could barely believe how caught up in the moment I was. My entire mind was foggy!

I watched him take off his leather jacket before he walked over to me and moved my thighs apart so he could lay down between them.

I could feel him hard against my center through our clothes but before the nervousness consumed me he had his lips on mine again and consumed my senses instead.

His body was pressed against mine and he traced his fingers down my body. He stroked over my thighs and spread them even more before moving to my panties.

Through the fabric he pressed his hand against me and gently rubbed me. A soft moan left my lips and I stirred underneath him and spread my legs further. Duff smirked against my breats and took my nipple in his mouth again as he began to rub me through my panties. His fingers ran over my slit as heat began to pool and I whimpered.

"Duff", I moaned softly.

He pulled away from my titts and brought his lips to mine while his fingers rubbed at my clit.

My eyes were closed, and I was lost in the moment, but I managed to bring my hand to his head and tangled my fingers in his blond, long hair. My lips parted as another soft moan left them and Duff pushed his tongue inside my mouth, massaging my tongue with his own.

His fingers were moving in circles over my clit and I whimpered against his lips as my panties became more soaked with each move he made.

I moaned and writhed on the bed as his hand travelled beneath my panties. Both of us moaned as he ran his middle finger between my folds, feeling how wet I was.

I whined his name again and lifted my hips to meet his hand.

He pushed his erection against my thigh and instinctively I reached down and stroked him through his pants.

"God you’re so wet for me", he growled in in my ear.

I bit my lip and raised my hips when suddenly he pulled away from me.

He knelt on the bed and smirked at me before ripping my panties down my thighs and tossing them to the floor.

My heart felt like it was about to pump out of my fucking chest.

He moved between my legs and crashed his lips against mine.

His fingers made their way back to my core and he pushed his middle finger inside me with ease, making me gasp.

"You want me to fuck you?", he pulled his finger out teasingly slow.

I bit your lip and without thinking I nodded as he pushed his finger back in.

He added a second finger, stretching me slowly: "But not yet."

He pulled his fingers away and I whined at the emptiness. But before I could protest Duff spread my legs apart and laid between them.

He ran the flat of his tongue along my slit, making me gasp and clutch at the sheets.

His tongue ran over my clit in two slow strokes.

I quickly covered my mouth with my hand and let out a moan.

His tongue ran over my clit in slow circles and he reached his hands up to squeeze my breasts. When he sucked at my clit I let out another moan into my hand and Duff pulled away.

"Oh No, baby", he told me and moved my hand from my mouth: "I wanna hear you."

I bit my lip and watched as he went back to his slow licks and his eyes never left mine as he ran his tongue over me. I felt like I was burning.

I squeezed my eyes shut and reached down, wrapping my fingers in his blond hair and raised my hips to meet him. He pulled back, only slightly and ran his fingers over my slit. He let out a growl as he watched, pushing two fingers into your throbbing pussy.

"Duff", I gasped and already felt extremely full. "Don't panic", I told myself and threw all worries away when he began to pump his fingers in and out of me, slowly at first before he increased his speed.

"You like that, baby girl?"

I moaned in response and he stopped his movements. He sucked at my clit and the change in pleasure made me squirm.

I whined and lifted my hips to meet the strokes of his tongue.

He moaned against me and the vibrations sent pleasure soaring through my veins. He began pumping his fingers once more, curling them against my wall and rubbing against my gspot.

I writhed on the bed, clutching at the sheets because of the amount of pleasure.

"Fuck..."

"You gonna cum for me doll?", he growled against me.

I sunk my teeth into my bottom lip as my orgasm coursed through me. MY walls clenched around his skilled fingers and his tongue didn’t stop running over your clit, making my legs tremble.

When my orgasm started to slow down he got up and took his clothes off, throwing them anywhere. Before he sat back down between my thighs, I watched him put on a condom through barely open eyelids.

Without a warning and therefor without giving me the time to over think this he plunged his cock into me. I gasped at his size and raked my nails down his back.

The pain was sharp and unknown.

"God you feel so good baby."

He crashed his lips against mine, stifling my moan as he pulled out of me slowly.

"So tight." He pushed into me again. I was frowning and pushed my eyes closed as I was trying to adjust to him. Fuck, he felt so good at the same time this hurt so bad but in the best way possible.

I moaned and ran my hands over his back as he set a pace with deep and slow thrusts. He wanted me to feel every inch of him entering me and he lost himself in the little whimpers I made as he pushed into me. After a few more thrusts when the pain was starting to die down, he pulled out of me and knelt on the bed.

"Rollover", he ordered.

I bit my lip and obeyed, kneeling in front of him on all fours. Duff let out a breath as he looked at my ass.

I felt him run his cock over my center before he pushed into me once more.

"Duff...", I hissed.

His change of angle set a whole new sense of pleasure and he set a faster pace. It hurt but felt so good... His cock slammed into me and I collapsed against the mattress, falling onto my elbows, arching my back more in doing so.

He brought his hand down swiftly, slapping my ass and making me gasp.

Duff gripped my hips and I moaned between breaths as he picked up a fast and hard pace, slamming into me hard and fast. He leaned forward and pulled my hair into a ponytail, his thrusts never slowing down. With a gentle tug at my hair he pulled me back onto all fours and with his spare hand he reached under me.

His fingers found my clit and he rubbed clumsy circles. I bit my lip, trying to contain my moans and arched my back. He leant over me, his breath on my shoulder and hearing his staggered breathing sent me into overdrive. He released his grip in my hair only to wrap his hand around your throat gently and pull me back enough so he could turn my head around to kiss him. Just what I needed.

"You gonna cum for me?"

I attempted to nod, which proved difficult with his grip on my throat. He didn't wait for an answer though and rubbed his fingers over my clit faster.

"Cum for me, babygirl."

I lost all control, my eyes rolling back as the waves of pleasure rolled through me, sending shivers all over my skin. His pace was sloppy now and I knew he was almost ready as well. He slowly pulled away and turned on his back so I knelt down on wobbly legs. I removed the condom and licked along his throbbing cock and he let out a low moan. I took him as deep as I could and began to suck him off until he grasped his cock and pumped it a few times before coming in my mouth.

I swallowed his load and his deep moans send a few last chills through me.

Both of us collapsed against the sheets, a sheer layer of sweat covering my skin as I tried to catch my breath.

"Shit that was good", he exhaled and placed a lazy kiss on my shoulder. "Yes, it was", I thought and grinned to myself, trying to process what had happened.

#guns n roses #smut #duff mckagan #duff mckagan imagine #duff mckagan smut #duff mckagan x reader

[extremelyblackandwhite]

illicit affairs

pairing: sheriff lee bodecker x younger! reader

warnings: smut (18+), cheating, age gap

a/n: i love perfumes which smell of daisies so i made the reader use something like that. i do imagine her going for a very much female appearance and aura despite her personality and i can see lee fancying that sort of fragile femininity look paired with her independency. this song is based of illicit affairs from taylor swift but i was also listening to all too well at some points so i think some of that passed onto the writing. hope you enjoy xx

> DRESS

Leave the perfume on the self that you picked up just for him so you leave no trace behind like you don’t even exist. Take the words for what they are a dwindling, mercurial high, a drug that only worked the first few hundred times ... And you wanna scream don’t call me “kid”, don’t call me “baby”, look at this idiotic fool that you made me. You taught me a secret language I can't speak with anyone else. And you know damn well for you I would ruin myself a million little times ...

The snow settled onto the ground, a view she could see from her white window. Sprawled against her window pane, the blue soft fabric of her dress cascaded down her body as she watched the snow fall and become one with the mass of white covering the once green grass of her home. Her feet dangled in anticipation, hair cascading into hairdresser set curls, held away from her face with a pearl barrette. Her fingers dangled across her collarbones, feeling the cold matching pearls which unlike her barrette clip, had been offered to her by Lee on thanksgiving. “A pretty girl like you deserves her own pearls” his voice echoed in her mind whenever her feeling felt the smooth irregular circle shapes of the pearls laying against her collarbones. There was nothing more than she wanted than to wear those pearls to the police winter ball, to show up wearing something he had bought for her with what money he gathered from his fickle Captain position, but she couldn’t. Everyone knew what she had, what jewellery she had, it was all valued at the insurance centre downtown and the pearl necklace definitely wasn’t. Her own pearls rested inside her ivory jewellery box along with the ribbon she was wearing around her waist when she first kissed him, and the comb that held her hair in place whenever she met him during windy nights. 

Her grandmother had left before her, leaving with the grocery shop owner as her date for the ball but she had stayed behind. She had told her she’d rather go alone, blaming her loneliness on the fact all the boys her age were either engaged thus going with their wives and the single ones not wanting to do with her. Of course that was further from the truth and as she watched the snow fall, she imagined Lee’s cruiser driving through the snow, stopping in front of her home and knocking on her door to take her. But those were nothing but impossible scenarios created from the deepest part of her psyche. Looking over her shoulder, the clock on her bedside table shone 9PM into bold red letters. She should get going before her grandmother got worried. Her eyes lingered across her beauty parlour to the silver platter with her perfume, the one she’d picked just for him after hearing how much he loved the smell of daisies. She had to leave it, she couldn’t put any perfume on, she couldn’t take her pearls, she doesn’t exist. At least, she as Lee’s lover does not exist for all that everyone could know and nothing hurt more than the sound of her pearls returning to her ivory box. It was were they belonged, away from everyone, hidden, a mysterious sin secret. 

With her white fur wrapped around her arms, she entered her glossy yet dull red car, pulling the hood up despite the weather. She wanted to feel the cold, she wanted that numbness to hide what she had been feeling for the last months. It was all so exhilarating when it began; the summer walks, laying in the middle of the forest in an old towel as he feed her ripe strawberries, escaping from her grandmother’s house at night and meeting him up under the apple tree in light dresses. However, at time wind down, she started to crave the rest of a relationship, the holding of hands. Instead what she got was clandestine meetings in parking lots, behind the bars or in the middle of the forest when no one could see them. She constantly told herself it was going to eventually be her turn, he was gonna leave Jane for her. Yet, she seemed to constantly fall on the same error every mistress before her did, the mistake of forgetting her place. Stopping in front of the old town hall where the ball was being held, she could see the soft lights, hear the laughter and it made her sick. She didn’t want to go in, she didn’t want to see those happy couples but she had too. She had to put up a show, be the little pedestal trouble starter woman she was expected to be and so she would. 

Stepping into the hall, her eyes immediately found Lee in the corner speaking with the Sheriff, arm draped over Jane’s shoulder while the other hand held a clear cup probably with his favourite drink. Her heart sunk to the same place it always did as she got lost in the dance floor. She knew everyone in this town hall, from the first boy she ever kissed Jonah and his third wife Elizabeth to Billy whom had been prom king with her. There was nothing new anymore and what once felt new and true was now anchoring her inside a fishbowl of images of her own mistakes and unfulfilled life needs. 

      - Hey, Y/N. - Billy called out for her attention. She held onto the fur wrapped around her for comfort as she prepared her facade of a happy girl at a happy party. - Your grandma told me you ain’t gotta a partner for tonight. Could’ve told me, I would’ve taken you. 

      - It’s ok, ain’t like I need a man. - she replied, almost angrily although he deserved no anger from her. - What’s the stage for? We’re getting a band tonight?

      - No, the new sheriff candidates announcing themselves tonight. Prepare for the blood bath. 

      - Sounds interesting. - she spoke out, her voice getting mumbled out as the mic’s sound hurt her and everyone else’s ear. The police chief stood there in his best attire, holding a small piece of papers, his fat thumbs hitting the mic to gather everyone’s attention. He already had their attention merely by wearing a cowboy’s hat with a formal suit. 

       - Now folks, we all now how much we gonna miss our good old Sheriff but it’s time to elect a new one. - his southern accent was pronounced, too pronounced, cartoonish even. Y/N remembered laughing as a child when she first heard him speak only to immediately shut up when her grandmother looked her way with a look which left room for no questions. She herself had barely developed an accent, her grandmother still very keen on instilling in her the education she herself had gotten. However, the longer she spent with Lee, the more it would sometimes slip; one or two words, nothing major. - Of course, Leroy is running again.

     - I don’t know why he tries. - Y/N whispered to Billy, concealed laughing smile behind her hand. 

     - You gotta admit it’s a good thing to imagine. Damned Leroy and his prostitutes running the town? We’d be forgotten by God.

     - We’re already forgotten by God. We were banished from the garden of Eden, don’t you remember? - she teased, always enjoying to toy around with the religion Knockemstiff was so hang up on. - We’re probably direct descendants. 

     - You ought to keep that mouth shut if you don’t wanna get in trouble. - he warned yet it went through deaf ears. Y/N liked stirring it, specially when it came to things which were so analytically flawed. 

The regular list of candidates continued to go from officers to common folk who all believed they could make the town better. At least that was all they said they wanted to get some votes but at the end of the day, they just wanted to control the town with an iron fist. Do what they wanted without anyone question it. She couldn’t blame it, humans are hardwired to go crazy for power and let it consume them so she just let it pass. She knew all the candidates, they were always the same. Leroy, Matthew, Edwards ... all the common ones, she even wondered why they kept announcing it. Those three competing for the sheriff position was as certain as the sun coming up each morning. 

      - The last candidate is our cap’tain Bodecker. - her head snapped to the stage as every sound seemed to dim until she was surrounded by pure silence. All she could hear was the buzz from her ears as she watched him climb up the stairs to the stage, shaking the chief’s hands. 

Everything seemed to be stuck in slow motion yet her mind was running faster than a shot bullet. The clapping was slow, everything was silent yet she could see their hands slowly clap and their lips moving in whispers. Her eyes roamed the crowd finding Jane right in front of the stage, looking up at him with adoration at the possible place she could possible hold; the sheriff’s wife. The slow motion ended with a loud crash and suddenly everything seemed just too fast. She ignored Billy’s pleas for her attention and moved straight to the small plastic tables covered in burgundy towels to make it look fancier where all the drinks and food were being held. One of her only friends from high school Mary was the one in charge, happily serving food and drinks to anyone who asked.

     - Hi Y/N. - she always looked like the perfect housewife and that was always what she wanted to be. Beautiful, bountiful blonde hair with a few flowers matching her pink dress. Despite it all, she was always nice to her even with their different life goals. 

     - Hey Mary. How’s Paul? I heard from rumours you two had quite a nice honeymoon. St.Louis, right? 

     - Yes. He booked us a nice honeymoon suite, it had flowers and those heart shaped beds and chocolates. It was real nice, I’m hoping to be pregnant soon. What about you? Your grandmother said you came alone. You could’ve told me, my brother would’ve taken you.

    - That’s alright, Mary. I don’t intend to stay for long ... Uhm, can I have a drink?

    - Of course. Sidecar, as per usual? 

    - I think I’ll just have a double cognac, please. Or maybe some gin ... whatever can make me dizzy the fastest.

    - Everything, okay?

    - Just need to forget some stuff, it’ll be okay. - she forced a smile. At least half that phrase was true. Mary served her up with her best gin and she returned to the dance floor, trying to blend with the rest of the attendees, however her baby blue dress was much too different from anything else in town. 

Y/N thought she’d be best outside where no one could see her and so she left, avoiding Billy who kept asking for her. She leaned against the old wood of the town hall, mascara running down her cheeks, and gin glass on the other one. She looked like the perfect warning tale of why you should not mess her married men. She knew better, she knew so much better but she still did it, like the idiotic little fool she seemed to be. Y/N sighed, the air condensing in the air as she drank from the glass.

     - Pull yourself together, Y/N. - she looked to see side, her grandmother standing outside with the look she used to give her when Y/N embarrassed her as a little girl. - What did you expect?

     - I’m just not having a good day, nana.

     - You’re hanging around with Captain Bodecker that’s what you’re doing.

     - What?

     - Don’t play innocent with me, Y/N. You’re just like your mother and I’ve raised your mother so I’d know. I saw you leave in his car last week. Do you want to defend yourself?

     - Is it even worth it? - she took a sip out of her drink. - What do you want me to say? 

     - I want you to pull yourself together and go inside. You better have this finished off before those elections start. I will not have my granddaughter be a home wrecker.

Y/N ignored it. There was nothing her grandmother could say that hurt more than what she was already feeling. She watched the snow fall from the cover of the banner covering the town hall, cold and icy yet somehow warmer than her. The drink didn’t last forever and although it was much stronger than what she was used to, she didn’t feel the slightest bit dizzy. It was if the universe was punishing her for her choices. She shook her head, leaving the glass onto one of the windows. She’d be better off at home and she’d already made her appearance. If someone asked where she was, she could’ve blamed it on their drunkness. Opening her little clutch, she started fishing for her keys through a sea of change, makeup and receipts. 

    - You better not be thinking of driving after you just drank. - she turned her head to see Lee with his hands on his waist, playfully smiling at her. His smile faded as he noticed the streaks of mascara from her eyes to her jaw. - Did that shithead Billy say something? 

     - No ... Lee, I wanna go home okay. - she sighed. - Can you just pretend you didn’t see me drink?

     - I was hoping we could spend the night together. Rent a hotel room outside town. A real nice place, with a pool and some room service. My treat of course.

     - I ... We can’t, Lee. Your wife is inside as she’s gonna notice you’re not there and you’re not home. 

     - She’s going home early. Jane’s been taking a few sleeping pills. She’s down for the night, won’t even notice. - he took a few steps closer to her, knowing everyone was too drunk to even remember. - I was waiting for you to come greet me, congratulate me. I can’t believe my girl wanted to leave before showing me how pretty she looked. 

     - You didn’t tell me you were running for Sheriff. - he cupped her face, thumb caressing her cheek. - You said it was a silly position.

     - Yeah but ... it’s a Sheriff. I could become Mayor, ya know. The old sheriff thinks I’d be good for it. - he scratched the back of his neck, something he always did whenever he was nervous or was confronted by something he did not expect. Y/N had learned to read him and knew him better than her own favourite books. - C’mon, kid. It’s a night worth celebrating, don’t you think?

     - Don’t call me kid. - she shot her head his way, his word hitting a particular hurt spot which she didn’t realise she had. 

     - Hey, I’m not trying to mock ya. - he rose his hands. - What’s wrong, huh baby? Hm? Tell me sugar, I hate it when you’re upset. Besides, if it was that Billy kid I’ve been wanting to give him a good beating.

    - Don’t call me baby, either. - she sighed, throwing her purse inside the car, before turning to him. - Billy didn’t do anything I’m just ... tired.

    - I’ll drive you home, then.

    - I don’t wanna go home either. - she pushed her hair from her forehead, looking at the ground. The snow engulfed her feet and her shoes, yet it might as well have engulfed her entire being. Lee noticed her lip trembling and how her free hand was trying to stop tears from falling down. He looked behind him, the town hall door shut, before taking his jacket off, draping it over her shoulders, and opening the car door for her. 

 Y/N daren’t look him in the eye, instead sitting in the passenger seat as he pushed the hood of her car up. After all, most people did not enjoy driving in the snow with the hood up. She didn’t know where he was taking her and for all it mattered she didn’t want to know. If he was driving her to her killing location, it sounded much better than having to work out through the bubbling feelings in her tummy. Y/N didn’t even noticed how much she was crying until the tears started streaming so fast they were falling onto the palms of her hands like diamond daggers. She leaned her head against his shoulder, watching the road ahead through the blurry orbs of her own eyes, trying to find some warmth through him. The drive seemed endless and her mind rushed in an even more endless way as she considered all her choices til now. She found it unbearable how not guilty she didn’t feel about it. She could still remember the feeling of the cold water against her body and his lips against hers, being tangled in his bed sheets while he drank a beer, his grunts as he thrusted into her inside his patrol car. She remembered every detail either it being lust or romantic but most importantly she remembered how he looked at her. It was almost as through rose coloured glasses, most of the times agreeing with her pessimist view of the town she was in. Lee looked down on her, watching her perfect hair break through the gelled curls she had set down. He never liked the polished look anyway, he loved to see her walk in her white dresses and freshly washed hair flowing with the wind. This woman sat next to him was gorgeous but he preferred his Y/N, he preferred the woman who would poke fun of casualty and rush into the woods with her nightgown. This woman next to him was pretty yes but she seemed tainted by a sadness he could see yet couldn’t help. He didn’t want his Y/N to be the slightest bit sad. She did not deserve it. She was too pure, too young to be consumed by the loneliness, darkness and sadness that came with being an adult. Yet again, he had to start learning the young woman she was wouldn’t stay young forever. He wanted to know how to help. he wanted to be the man who wakes up next to her on summer mornings and winter evenings but life is not how we plan it out to be.

She watched the snow fall from her window as “You are my sunshine” played on the background from her radio. Looking up to him, his eyes were glued to the road, the sign of leaving Knockemstiff way past them and the hotel on the horizon. She called it the Heartbreak hotel, with its red walls and luxurious nature. A more fancy place for those who wanted to give a better night to their mistresses but that was not why she called it the heartbreak hotel. It was due to the fact she ended up crying every time she or he left. While inside those walls, she could pretend they were Mr. and Mrs. Bodecker, young couple moved out of Knockemstiff on a romantic getaway yet she wasn’t Mrs. Bodecker, Jane was. She had seen who the future sheriff’s wife was and it was not and it would never be her. He stopped the car in the parking lot, looking at her who was lost in thought, leaned against his shoulder.

   - Come on, sugar. What is it? - Lee kissed the top of her head. - The heck happened in that Town Hall?

    - Just being silly, Lee. - she shook her head, faking a smile. - Just don’t like parties one bit.

    - I hate ‘em too, sugar. All show no action. Besides no party is a party without my baby. - he hooked his ring finger under her chin, softly pulling it up. She tried not to look at the moonlight illuminating the silver band around his finger, a symbol he belonged to someone else and she knew it. She had seen the wedding photo on his secretary, a much younger Lee with a much younger Jane with the facade of a happy marriage. Thinking about it always made her sick and ever since seeing that picture she couldn’t bring herself to do so. - Come on, let’s get you a bubble bath, yeah?

She followed him into the hotel almost in a zombie like state until the reception. The talk was a dance she had danced before, it was all the same. Lee would present money in cash so it wouldn’t show up on his credit card statement. He would sign in with a fake address but with his own name and no one would question it. After all, the staff wanted money, they didn’t care if it was an illicit affair or not. To be honest, she didn’t care much anymore.

     - Mrs. Bodecker? Mrs. Bodecker? - the receptionist called out to her but it didn’t even register until she was looking her into the eyes. Mrs. Bodecker, she was definitely not. - Would you like a complementary tea? You look cold.

     - No, it’s okay. - she smiled while Lee grabbed the keys. His hand wrapped itself around hers, leading her over to the elevator.

God, she wanted him. She really did, he thought to himself. It was an unbelievable feeling to have someone who loved him back, someone who always had encouraging words to tell him, someone who would stay after a fight. He thought and imagine what it would’ve been like if she was born earlier, god he would’ve courted her and would’ve married her the second they were out of high school. Sadly, the woman he loved was born 10 years after and he met her when he was married. He led her to the 13th hotel room and closed the door behind them.

     - Things are gonna be different when I’m sheriff. No more sneaking around, no one will dare  say a word. I can move to Brewer Heights, heck, I can buy two houses, one just for you and me.

    - Lee ...

    - Where are your pearls, sugar? You know I love to see you with them, makes you look so pretty.

    - You know I can’t wear them in public, Lee. I am not your ... - she shouldn’t say that, she should not let those words out. - They’re not insured under my name, people would comment about it.

     - You worry too much. - he pushed the fur that covered her arms down, placing a small kiss on her elbow. - My little over-thinker.

     - One of us has too, Captain Bodecker.

     - How about some champagne? - he pointed towards the champagne bottle in the ice bucket by the dresser before walking towards it, raising it so he could inspect the brand. He longed for the finest things in life, no longer wanting to be that middle to low class man he’d been forced to be. Being Sheriff, Mayor someday was going to be really something, it’d be his chance.

    - I’m not 21 yet, Captain.

    - Only a month til you are, kid. - he filled two long crystal flutes, handing it over to them. - By then I should stop calling you kid, huh?

    - You shouldn’t call me kid, now. - she took a sip of the golden liquid, hoping it would take away her jealousy. Lee hummed, leaned over to kiss the crock of her neck, climbing up to her jaw in a move that was sure to leave marks. It was okay for him to leave marks on her, she was unmarried, young but on him? Sometimes she wanted to, sometimes she wanted to mark his pale plump skin as a possession, one that screamed Jane might have the wedding ring but she had the man. Yet, she couldn’t. - You look so handsome tonight.

    - You’re my worse critic. - he smirked, placing his glass on the bedside table before pulling her chin towards him, placing a soft kiss on her plump, painted lips. - God, you can’t even imagine how fucking hard I got when you walked in.

    - Such gentle behaviour. - she teased, fingers lightly tracing the skin of his face. He moaned, leaning in to kiss her again. - I wore it just for you. Blue. I knw you like it.

    - You’re always such a good girl for me. - he started to remove his jacket, pushing on her chest lightly so she laid against the luxurious bed.

The alcohol sure did a better job than her about making her forget what she was doing it. The alcohol and his kiss, his touch on her skin made her forget the clench in her heart when she saw Jane Bodecker clap once they said his name. It made her forget she couldn’t hear perfume around him unless he showered, it made her forget. Both of her moaned through the kiss, seemingly unconcerned with the fact that it was a sin. Maybe that’s why it taste so sweet, the sin, the thrill. None of them cared really and all he wanted to do now was hold her, touch her, look at her.

    - You are so beautiful. - he spoke, more to himself than to her specifically, leaning down on the bed as he spread her legs, taking his place in between them which was so familiar to him. Lee ran his knuckles through the middle of her folds, cold hands making her shiver. - Ev’ry darn day I wake up and I think, I got myself the most beautiful woman in the world.

Her eyes were glued to the ceiling, the white paint of it engulfing her as his hands caressed her thighs. All she could feel were his cold hands massaging the skin of her thighs, spreading them apart and giving him full access to her. His lips attacked her core, always chapped which made her feel so good, it made her know it was him giving her that pleasure. She moaned out loud as he dwelled in like a starved man, her head relaxing against the pillow. There was never any mercy with him, he teased her like he owned her, focusing on her clit while licking her folds. He had her exactly where he wanted her - starving for him.

   - You’re gonna see. - he mumbled out while he relentlessly ate her out. - When I’m sheriff there will be no more hidin’. No one gonna dare say anythin’ about it.

   - Lee, please ... no foreplay. - she whined, begged even as he stopped his motions. His eyes curiously searched for hers, hands pulling his body up as he stood on top of her. - I just want to feel you.

   - Weren’t you feelin’ me, sugar?

   - You know what I mean, Lee. - she wrapped her hands around his neck, head cocked to the side. - I don’t want any foreplay today.

    - Oh sugar ... - he chuckled leaning down to kiss her collarbone. - You’re just a cock slut for me, aren’t ya? Can’t just wait for me to treat ya right ain’t it, baby?

     - Lee, please. - she whined, hands wavering over his police issued chunky belt. Lee smirked, holding her hand before she could do anything. Y/N pouted, head leaning against her shoulder. - C’mon.

   - But baby, you look so pretty when you’re begging. - he returned to kiss her neck, leaving marks which were sure to become hickeys tomorrow but she didn’t care. No one was going to see it. - I was expecting you to come congratulate me in the way you always do, maybe in the back of the town hall. Hoping someone would catch us so they’d see you’re my girl.

    -  Lee ... -  she whined as he kept kissing her neck and collarbones. - Please.

    - Tell me what you want, baby. You know I do everything you want. - he rose from her neck, toothy grin as he leaned down to kiss her plump, pink painted lips. - Tell me you want my big fat cock. I know you do, baby. Tell me how much you need it. 

  - Lee ... please, need you.

  - You have me, baby, tell me what you need. Tell me what you want. - his knuckles ran through the middle of her folds again. - You’re so wet, baby. Just tell me what you want, c’mon

  -  Lee ... please. - she looked at him with those wide eyes that could get someone to commit murder for her, as he pushed down his trousers. - I want you to fuck me with your ... big fat cock, Capitain. 

  - Oh, baby ... - he leaned his forehead against hers as he pushed his cock past her entrance, eyes shut tight  as he tried to keep himself sane at the mere feeling of her walls contracting against him. His lips found hers as he shed himself fully into her. Her hand searched for his, as Lee slowly rolled his hips against hers, basking in the mere high that was being inside of her. - You okay, baby? 

  - Yeah. ... fuck, move. - she whined as he removed himself from her and pushed back in, slowly starting to rock into her as he always did. The little tease. Her hand clenched his as he speed up his thrusts, lips returning to hers in a messy, moaned filled kiss. All she could hear was the sound of skin against skin and interrupted breathing. - Lee, fuck.

  - I know, baby. - he laughed, returning to kiss her the way he liked as her walls started to clench more forcefully against his member, milking him for all he was worth. His free hand grabbed her hip as he further sped up against her, bruising her skin as his breaths got more raggedy. He bite onto her neck as he felt his control over his own orgasm disappear. 

  - Lee, fuck! - she moaned, almost raising off the bed as her own orgasm washed over her. Her head fell against the pillow, sluggish as he continued to thrust into her until ropes and ropes of cum painted her walls. He chuckled mid grunt, holding her against him as he turned around in bed. 

  - You all fucked up, aren’t ya, sugar? - he kissed the top of her head. - You’re gonna see, sugar. Things are gonna be so much better.

  - Right ... - she cuddled against his chest. - Hm ... Lee can you drive me back home early on?

  - Early shift?

  - Yeah.

  - Okay, sugar.

The morning was a harsh breaker of dreamy hazes and just like that she was back to the place where she always was, in her home, surrounded by the scent of the perfume she had bought just for him. She sat on her dress, taking the necklace he had given her from the little mother of pearl seashell shaped box and holding them against her chest. She loved him, she really did. Some people had their downfalls and hers was painted onto her neck and held by her hands. He was her downfall. 

The sun was high up on the snowy midday in Knockemstiff and once again Lee had been resigned to desk duty after the Sheriff not taking it too lightly he decided to run without his permission. Normally he would’ve been upset but he knew, he knew he was close to winning and then he could throw away those stupid hotels and just get her a little house close to him. God, he couldn’t fucking wait.

    - Captain Bodecker, someone here for you. - his secretary knocked on his door. - Mary Gillies, sir. 

    - Mary Gillies? - he knew her to be a friend of Y/N’s, perhaps her only friend other than that punk Billy. - Send her in.

    - Good afternoon, captain. - she said as she walked into his office. - I’m so sorry to be bothering but Y/N ...

    - Is she alright? - he interrupted her.

    - Yes, well ...  - she rummaged through her bag to find a cushioned envelope with his name on it. - She told me to give you this.

   - What is it?

   - I don’t know, captain. I must get going, my husband is waiting for me.

   - Of course. Thank you, Mrs. Gillies.

He waited for the woman to be out of his office and for the door to be shut for him to open the envelope. The minute he opened the envelope, pearls fell into his desk, the same pearls he had given Y/N followed by a small note in the dusty pink stationary that normally laid on her dresser. Turning it around, he saw the words he’d been dreading to read or hear ever since he met her. I’m sorry, Lee. He threw the letter on his desk before getting up from his desk as fast as he could, ignoring the calls from his colleagues as he got into his cruiser. Damned, Brewer Heights, why couldn’t it be closer?

He approached her home fast and closed the door as fastly as he ran up to the door. Her hag of a grandmother was possibly at church and he had learned where they kept the spare key; behind a violet pot. His heart was beating as fast as a deer on a hunt as he climbed up the stairs and found the once filled room was empty, with only a perfume bottle on her empty dresser. He observed the whole room as if he were in a nightmare, sitting on her bed as he clenched the pearls he had given her not so long ago, the smell of daisies in the air as some song played on the still turned on radio.

You never know dear how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away ...

taglist: @lookiamtrying​ 

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan/y/n #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan smut #sheriff lee bodecker #sheriff lee bodecker x reader #sheriff lee bodecker x you #sheriff lee bodecker x y/n #sheriff lee bodecker/reader #sheriff lee bodecker/you #sheriff lee bodecker/y/n #sheriff lee bodecker smut #sheriff lee bodecker imagine #lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker x y/n #lee bodecker/reader #lee bodecker smut #lee bodecker imagine #lee bodecker/y/n #lee bodecker/yoou

[mighty-ragnarssons]

Knocked Up | Modern Vikings AU | Chapter I

Relationships | Modern Ivar x OC Summary | Ivar always thought he'd be one of those people that never find the love of their lives. But then he found her - or, as the story goes, she bumped into him. He never saw it coming. Then he had to deal with it, and all the consequences that came along. Warnings | some smut, a little angst, harassement, teenage pregnancy

You can read in AO3 as well (click here). 

Chapter 1

There was no one in town that didn’t know about the Ragnarssons, the children of the famous Ragnar Lothbrok. They were fearless, they were reckless, and they were dangerous, just like their father. That’s what everybody said.

Bjorn was the eldest, the first-born of Ragnar’s first marriage with Lagertha. There had been a daughter too, Gyda, but she had passed away terribly young. After that, Ragnar had only sons born from his second marriage, this time with Aslaug. First came Ubbe, then Hvitserk and Sigurd. All of them perfectly healthy and strong boys that, much like Bjorn and to Ragnar’s amusement, took after their father in several ways. Unexpectedly and accidentally, however, there was a fifth child, the last son of Ragnar, Ivar. 

Ivar was very different from his brothers.

Born with a bone condition, he was crippled from the start. It was not just his legs that wouldn’t allow him to ever walk on his own, but a whole lot more pain coming from his frail bones that were never to be trusted. No wonder he grew up as a vulnerable, angry, and sad kid, despite being his mother’s favorite and most protected son. And now, as he was becoming a man, people called him mad and a drunk, a wild card with whom everyone rather stay away from. Ivar didn’t mind, he preferred to be tamed than to be pitied after a lifetime of being looked down on. In fact, he would do everything in his power to remain like this. It was the only way to prove himself and stay out of his brothers’ shadow and, most importantly, his father’s to who Ivar was the least favored son, something which hurt the boy more deeply than his constant physical pain.

“Hurry up, Ivar. Crawl faster, or else when we get to the club Ubbe and Hvitserk will have gotten all the best girls” Sigurd’s voice echoed loudly through the house. 

Ivar was there a second later clearly annoyed at his brother’s mocking tone. “Last time I checked, dear brother, you need me to drive you. So shut up. Let’s go.” 

Sigurd couldn’t argue back. He did need Ivar to drive them to the club. He kept failing at taking his driver’s license. It was humiliating to have to need his crippled brother to drive him, but Ubbe and Hvistserk, the bastards, hadn’t been home. Minutes afterward Ivar was behind the wheel of his accessible SUV and off they were.

Thirty minutes later they were skipping the line to get into the club. The Ragnarssons had their ways.  If there was one circuit in which their name was known by everyone, it was the nightlife one. No party would ever start without one of them being there. Ivar and Sigurd joined Ubbe and Hvisterk in the VIP area. As usual, Ivar took a corner where he knew he’d spend the next few hours drinking, smoking, and glaring at the dancing crowd. Perhaps if someone caught his eye he’d make a move, but usually, it was more like his brothers to do that.  

“There you go” Hvitzerk handed him a joint “Don’t look so serious, Ivar. The night is young. Enjoy!” By the looks of it, it was clear that he was already a bit high. But again it was Hvitserk and unusual would be to find him sober. “A lot of pretty ladies out there. Want me to pick one for you?” 

Ivar knew Hivtserk was only joking, but he still didn’t like it. His brother, ignoring Ivar’s cold glare and much to his annoyance, started pointing out to random girls who were dancing. “Oh, look at that one. C’mon Ivar, ain’t she a treat to stare at?”  

Thankfully, Hivtserk stopped his stupid game once their oldest brother Bjorn joined them, bringing shots to everyone with the help of his wife, Torvi.

“Brother, to what do we owe the honor?” Ivar said, throwing one of his ironic smirks. 

“I bring good news. Father is going to be released from jail sooner than expected. In three months to be exact! I had to pull some strings but it’s settled”

The news was received with different reactions. Sigurd didn’t seem that happy, while Ivar was the opposite. Ubbe was the first one to hold one of the shot glasses and started the toast “To Father! To Ragnar!”

Ragnar had been in prison for almost three years due to white-collar crimes, having been convicted of corporate fraud and money laundering. His sentence would’ve been of more than ten years, but Ragnar had his ways and was able to cut a deal for five years. And now, apparently, he would only serve almost four. Throughout this time it had been Bjorn taking over the leadership of the family’s successful business, Northmen Ventures, of which all of Ragnar’s sons had become the sole shareholders just before he was imprisoned. This explained why they were one of the richest families in their Norwegian city of Bergen. 

Bjorn,  now age 30, had been the natural successor of Ragnar. Not only because he was the oldest and perhaps the favorite son of Ragnar, but also because at the time he was the only one with a university degree, having just graduated from Law School. Yet, all of Ragnar’s sons were meant to get involved with the business. At least that was their father’s wish. Ubbe, now 24, had just graduated from Architecture School but had recently joined Bjorn on the company’s executive board.  Ivar wasn’t given the opportunity to help out, something which he grudged his older brothers - for dismissing him for his age, despite the fact that he’d watch and learned as much from his father as possible since an early age. Now 19 he was a freshman in college taking Business Administration. Then there were Hvitserk, 23, and Sigurd, 21,  the ones more adamant about following in their father’s footsteps. Hvitserk was using the money they were all getting to sustain his pricy bachelor lifestyle, and so was Sigurd who dedicated most of his time to art and music. Neither tried to pursue a higher education degree. 

“Don’t get too excited. Father will be back and then what? It’s not like he cares about us.” Sigurd, the mood killer, chugged his beer aggressively “He didn’t let us visit him in prison not even once. Not even Mother was allowed to. He didn’t even care for sending a postcard for Christmas!”

“He must have had his reasons.”

“And he left us the company”

“And so what? He just wanted to prevent it from ending up in the hands of the government.  Fuck him! You might all want to play the role of doting sons, but I’m not gonna tag along” After this Sigurd stormed off.

The remaining brothers looked at one another. A little bit of what Sigurd had just said resounsed with them, but at the same time they were excited to welcome back their father. Things would be very different with him around. 

“I say we celebrate.” Ivar said, not minding Sigurd. He couldn’t wait for his father to be back so that he could prove himself once and for all. He was no longer the defenseless crippled child he was when Ragnar went away. 

Despite the good mood he was in about Bjorn’s good news, Ivar wasn’t vibing with the club’s atmosphere that night. Hvitserk and Ubbe were making out with some random girls, Sigurd was nowhere to be seen and Torvi and Bjorn had left already. Instead, he was craving for some adrenaline and he knew just the way to get it. Texting his dealer, he left the club with the help of his crutches.

Nothing was to stop him except that on the way out someone bumped into him almost causing him to lose his fragile balance. Fury grew on Ivar who was about to yell at whoever made the mistake of infuriating him that night, but that’s when her face lost the blurriness of a few seconds ago and Ivar lost his balance again but for a completely different reason.

“Oh, no. I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to...shit” 

“Bitch, get back! For the hundredth time, you’re not getting in!” 

The girl’s expression quickly turned one of desperation. “I told you I have to. My cousin needs help! Don’t stop me, please” Her words were towards the bouncer that was now pulling her back, but her pleading eyes were on Ivar as if asking for help.  

“Hey, let her go!”  Ivar didn’t know why, but his rage got up to new levels when he saw the bouncer getting his filthy hands on her. “I said back off. Take your fucking hands off of her.”

At Ivar’s command the bouncer let her go. It didn’t matter that he was a big muscle guy, Ivar took a step towards him and faced him with a cold death stare. 

“She’s coming in with me, do you understand?”

“Ragnarsson, she is a minor. I can’t let her in.”

“I’m not asking.” 

His tone set it. He nodded so that the girl got in the club ahead of him. She didn’t even say a word, going immediately in. Ivar had to hurry himself inside to catch up. 

“Fuck, there’s so many people” she noticed looking absolutely lost.

“Let me help you.” he offered. 

“The bathrooms. My cousin... she called me, she didn’t sound fine… I’m worried something’s happened... She said she couldn’t move” she was trembling as she spoke. Ivar reached her hand with his. 

“If she is here we are going to find her.” he assured her “Follow me” 

It was not typical of Ivar to help a lady in distress but as he was guiding this girl through the crowd of drunk dancing people he couldn’t understand the need he was abruptly feeling for shielding her and, worst of all, to comfort her. These feelings left him uneased, but he was not going to dwell into that right now. If his suspicions were right and her cousin was somewhere in the club, then she was probably drugged to the point of unconsciousness and in a position to be taken advantage of. 

They swiped all the bathrooms at the club until at last they burst into one where a girl was noticeably knocked down in a corner.

“Cathrine!” the girl immediately crouched down on her cousin. “Cathrine, can you hear me?” 

“All of you, get out” Ivar demanded the girls who were inside. Some tried to complain, after all he was the guy in a female bathroom. These same girls that had paid no attention, or they just didn’t care, to the other girl on the floor. He then went outside as fast as he could and got a water bottle.

“She’s awake, but barely. Says she 's dizzy. She’s not talking right” 

“She was likely drugged” It wouldn’t be a first in that club “Make her sip some water” he threw the water bottle at them. He really wanted to level down to them, but with his crutches and all it just wouldn’t go well. “I’m gonna find help.”

 He ‘raced’ to the VIP area. Only Hivtserk was there with a girl on top of him. What was wrong with his brothers for acting as if their corner was a place of public foreplay display?

“Hvitserk, I need your help!”

“Go away Ivar” he grumbled and continued to suggestively run his hands on the brunette over his lap.

Ivar had to take the matter into his hands. The first thing he found was a leftover cocktail on the table which he threw at the girl. Her immediate squeak was so high and audible despite the deafening music. She practically jumped from on top of his brother.

“You crazy motherfucker!”

“What the fuck Ivar?”

“I don’t have time to explain. Come with me. I need your help.” 

Usually he didn't have much faith in his brothers - after all they were a pain in his ass most of the time - but this time he was really hoping to call on Hvitserk’s good senses. Fortunately his prayers were answered and his older brother followed him back to the bathroom

“What’s going on?”

“There’s a passed out girl. We need to get her out of here.”

“Would you go so far as in to get laid, little brother? Oh, you sicko” 

“This is not the time for jokes, asshole. You’re the sicko for even suggesting that”

Ivar was almost regretting getting Hvitserk to help, but the truth was that he alone wouldn’t be able to carry the girl out from the bathroom. The moment they got in there Hvitserk got a bit more serious and kneeled next to the two girls. 

“Let’s get her out of here” 

Together with Hvitserk, the girl helped raise her semi-unconscious cousin. People inside the club were so fucked up that they didn’t drop one second to look at them leaving. 

“Take her to my car” Ivar indicated and so they did. He unlocked his metallic grey SUV from afar and went on to open the backdoors where they laid the girl. “Let her get some fresh hair. It will do her good.”

“Should we take her to the hospital?” Hvitserk suggested.

A loud “No!” came from the inside of the car.

“She can’t. It will be too complicated” said the other girl but not without hinting her dissatisfaction.

Ivar finally took a moment to fully look at her. Dressed  in just a pair of jeans and a warm sweatshirt, she was lean and tall, but at least a good ten centimeters shorter than himself. Her blonde hair was tied in a messy bun with some strands falling down on her face. He had to hold the instinct to gently brush those aside. And her eyes… They were a very greyish blue color like he had never seen before. They were mirroring worry and nervousness. 

“I’m calling a cab. Thank you for your help. I don’t know what I would’ve done if it weren’t for you” she said facing Ivar and Ivar only. 

“I can drive you.” he offered without thinking.

“We already bothered you enough -”

Ivar cut her off “Nonsense. I’m going to drive you” he declares in a way that offered no other option.

Relief poured from her gaze “Thank you”

It was quite the drive, further out of Bergen’s city center. By the time they got there the passed out girl - Cathrine - had regained consciousness, albeit feeling nauseous and dizzy. Hvitserk carried her alone in his arms to the inside of the house and further into her bed. It was time enough for her to fall asleep like a rock.

“She seems just to need some rest. Keep her hydrated when she wakes up.”

“If she was drugged then it should wear off her system soon”

“Noted. I don’t know how to thank you both” 

“You could go on a date with one of us, how does that sound?”

“Hvitserk!” Ivar admonished in reaction to the girl’s shocked expression “Please, ignore my brother. He, too, has drugs that need to wear off his system”

“You’re no fun, Ivar” Hvitserk couldn’t argue back on the drugs part. “A pleasure to help, milady. Until next time” He did a silly bow and left the apartment back to the car. 

“Is he always like that?” 

 “Most of the time, yeah.” Ivar shrugged his shoulders “Hand me your phone” Because she did without complaining, he got it and put his number in there “I’m Ivar Lothbrook. Whenever you need help.”

What he really wanted to say was ‘text me’. He didn’t have the nerve for that, tho.

For the first time that night she finally showed a glimpse of a smile “Honestly, thank you. I don’t know what I would’ve done without your help, Ivar Lothbrok” 

Her hand was touching his and for a moment everything seemed to stop. The way his name sounded on her lips… A shiver went down his spine. He wanted to hear it again, but most importantly he wanted to know her name.

But in that exact moment a horn yelled. Goddamned Hvitserk. He was going to wake up the whole street, which was the opposite of what the girls had asked. “I better go drive him home now or else he’ll wake up the whole neighborhood” 

Yet Ivar was finding it difficult to leave. To leave her. Another honk made him take the necessary steps.

“I mean it when I say for you to use my number whenever. Stay safe”

He finally closed the door behind him and walked back to the car, but not before looking over his shoulder. There she was, by the window, waving goodbye with a shy smile on her face.

He needed to see her again.

The next morning Ivar woke up rather hopeful of seeing a text message. Seeing there was none, his day didn’t kick off exactly on the right terms. Throughout the day he checked his phone more times than he cared to admit and each time he grew impatient and irritated. What was it about that girl to make him like this? It’s not like he usually gave a crap about whoever he met.

“What’s wrong with you? You’ve got a right cob-on” his older brother Ubbe asked later that day when they were all chilling by the firepit  in the backyard of the Lothbrook’s home.

Although in Norway it was uncommon for people their age to still be living at home, in their case that’s how things were and worked out great most days. Usually it was just the four brothers and the house was  big enough for them not to be in each other’s ways.. Their mother, Aslaug Lothbrok, ran one the country’s finest art galleries. After her husband’s arrest she had moved her gallery to the capital city, Oslo, instead of their home city. Lately she spent most of her time there rather than at home. 

“It’s nothing. Leave me alone” 

“He’s hung up” teased Hvitserk “Still thinking about the pretty blondie from last night, brother?”

Right that moment Ivar wished he could smack the mocking smiles out of his brother’s faces. 

“Well, well, well Ivar. Didn’t know you had company last night.”

“He didn’t.  Not exactly. None of us did” Hvitserk proceed to put Ubbe on the loop in regards to their little episode last night. “Instead of asking her for her number, our little brother gave her his. Wrong move, dude.” Ivar immediately regretted telling this to Hvitserk. “Don’t be so bummed out, Ivar. There’s plenty of fish in the sea. Speaking of…”

A blonde Ivar doesn’t care much about exits their home in Sigurd’s company, both appearing content which can only mean one thing. Margrethe is a constant guest at the Lothbrok’s and probably the only female with the fame of being acquainted with all of the brothers’ rooms. Although a favorite among the Ragnarssons, to Ivar she’s nothing but an unpleasant company he is forced to tolerate after they fall out months ago. 

“If that’s the fish you’re hinting at, I’d rather go vegan” Ivar mumbled under his breath.

I hope you liked it! It’s my first Vikings fic :) Sorry for any mistakes, English is not my native language. At least five more chapters will be on the way.

#knocked-up-fic #vikings fic #vikings fanfiction #vikings fanfic #modern vikings #modern vikings au #modern ivar #modern ivar au #ivar #ivar the boneless #ivar x oc #ivar x original female character #ivar ragnarsson #ragnarssons #my fiction #ivar lothbrok #knocked up fic

[murdershegoat]

(inspired by this // on ao3 // ko-fi)

she’s had the voice in her head for as long as she can remember

well, it’s not exactly a voice, more just like a really strong, disembodied feelings that echoes loudly in her head and body. like, it’s not her gut feelings, it’s an outside force and it’s loud and sometimes scary.

so whatever she calls it a voice when she’s explaining it to others.

this voice, it guides her decision making. it’s not an exact science (yet) but if she thinks in her head ‘i’m gonna go get ice-cream’ the voice will either say WARMER or it’ll say COLDER

well, it won’t say it because it’s not a voice. it’s more like this disembodied feeling feels like it’s saying WARMER or COLDER and she’ll physically feel it as well.

if she’s supposed to get ice cream, she’ll feel a sudden warmth

if she’s not supposed to get ice cream, she’ll feel a sudden chill

she doesn’t know why the voice makes the decisions it does, but she has to assume that it’s leading her towards something, towards success or whatever

at the very least, she has to believe that it’s trying to keep her alive. it’s a survival thing. whatever it is, it’s kept her alive for 26 years and counting.

and though it keeps her alive, it doesn’t always save her from pain. the voice tells her kissing veronica sinclair in the horse stables is a warm idea and veronica ended up breaking her heart and humiliated her in front of the whole school.

when she was four, the voice told her to trust lillian. and that’s led to a whole life of pain.

anyway. the voice. 

andrea is the first person she tells about it.

they’re hiking in the amazon during spring break. and, as happens sometimes in life, they come to a diverging path and have to choose. left or right. andrea looks at the compass. ‘it’s not working,’ she says. ‘how fucking convenient,’ lena replies. she sighs and steps to the left path.

‘we’re going left,’ she says emphatically as she feels a familiar warmth roll through her. ‘why?’ andrea asks. ‘i just have a feeling.’

only andrea isn’t swayed by ‘just a feeling.’ she demands more and she refuses to go left until lena finally breaks down and explains the voice

(not a voice.)

‘well what happens if we don’t listen to it??’ andrea asks after a barrage of questions, her analytical mind whirring a mile a minute. lena shrugs, ‘i dunno. i’ve never taken the risk of not listening.’

they go left.

they survive the amazon. the voice is always right.

‘you know,’ andrea says, her head resting against the plane window. ‘my nanny used to tell me stories.’ ‘isn’t that what all nannies do?’ ‘she would tell me stories about people having unexplainable powers or whatever, i don’t remember the details… but i remember her saying that the powers always lead people to the thing they need the most. and it could take months or it could take years but it’s a part of your soul, like, intrinsically in you.’

andrea’s xanax kicks in soon after that and she sleeps for the rest of the plane ride home

lena stays awake the whole flight, wondering what these choices are and what this voice is leading her towards.

the voice leads her through the end of high school and it leads her to MIT (fun fact: she’s never felt a firmer COLDER than she had when she held harvard’s acceptance letter in her hand.)

it really helps her in college. sure, she still makes a lot of what she deems voice-sanctioned mistakes (sleeping with veronica sinclair is at the top of that list) but her grades are stellar and she’s on track for getting her second masters and she has a load of friends.

and then her brother goes insane and tries to kill superman. the sky is red and lena stands in lex’s office overlooking downtown metropolis. ‘join me lena,’ he says. ‘help me and we’ll be unstoppable. we’ve always been a strong family  but believe me, we’ll run this country together one day, i promise you that. all i need you to do is trust me.’ he holds out his hand

for a second, she considers doing it. she doesn’t want to lose her family. i am going to trust my brother. 

the voice says COLDER.

lena listens to the voice. she always listens to the voice.

it’s the first time the voice has made her lose something - someone - as important as lex. it’s the first time she thinks that maybe this voice thing doesn’t know what it’s doing because it’s never hurt her like this before. 

the fallout from lex’s breakdown feels cataclysmic. her friends stop speaking to her, her professors stop calling on her in class. she can’t even work at the library without being harassed.

and to top it all off, she becomes the youngest female ceo of a fortune 500 company. which means board meetings and strategy sessions all while writing a thesis. 

but meeting jack spheer feels like finding a life raft in the middle of a ferocious ocean, keeping her afloat, letting her catch her breath. he’s cute and he’s funny and well-to-do, and he’s the type of person lena knows she should date and possibly marry.

jack is the second person lena tells about the voice. she’s scared because she isn’t sure he’ll believe her, that he’ll drop her like the rest of her friends have.

but jack, bless his heart, just asks a hundred questions. ‘so even things like which sodas to drink?’ ‘the voice doesn’t let me drink soda.’ ‘whoa.’

jack is the first person who’s not veronica sinclair lena tells her other big secret to. they’ve been out drinking and eventually they stumble back to jack’s place and she feels brazen enough to blurt it out while he makes her a grilled cheese sandwich. she doesn’t even have time to wait for the voice’s opinion; the truth just falls out of her, unable to stay contained any longer.

‘i’m gay,’ lena says. ‘and i understand if you don’t agree with that lifestyle, but i’m still the same person i’ve always been and i would like to remain friends with you.’

‘a person with terrible gaydar apparently,’ jack replies. ‘as the kids say, it takes one to know one. i would’ve told you sooner but… i’m sorry i didn’t tell you sooner.’ she surges forward and throws her arms around him, hugging him tightly. neither of them lets go.

the grilled cheese burns.

‘should we just get chinese instead?’

the voice says WARMER.

she’s scared of starting over in national city, but the voice in her head seems to think it’s a WARMER sort of idea.

so she packs her bags and jack says goodbye to her at the airport and before she knows it, she’s looking down at NC from her pristine white office. the CVs of two assistants she’s interviewed. ‘i’m going to hire jess chin-salva as my PA,’ she murmurs to herself. ‘WARMER,’ says the voice.

when jess tells her two reporters are at the door, the strapping frame of clark kent isn’t whom she is expecting. she also isn’t expecting kara danvers to follow close behind, kara danvers whose smile is much too bright and friendly to work for a hardened journalist, whose blue eyes twinkle with a kindness lena has seldom been gifted by others, whose biceps are clearly visible through the cardigan she wears.

lena doesn’t have a choice to make, and yet for some reason it screams at her. WARMER. WARMER. 

and then it says something new.

WARMEST

the feeling won’t leave lena’s body, and she struggles to focus on the interaction with the journalists, but she thinks she’s managed to tell them the truth. she’s just trying to rebuild her family’s business. she just wants to do good things and make the world a better place. but it’s hard to focus on any of that when her mind and her body feel like they’re on fire.

it only dies down when kara leaves the room, and lena’s pretty sure that there’s something special about that woman.

except maybe there’s just something about the blue eyed women of national city. because later that day lena’s helicopter is shot down and she finds herself being carried to safety by supergirl and the voice goes batshit crazy again.

‘focus on the fact you’re about to die,’ lena tries to tell it, but it doesn’t listen to her. so instead, she doesn’t look away from supergirl’s steady, reassuring gaze until she flies away. and she wonders why supergirl is a ‘WARMEST’.

‘i heard you almost died,’ jack says when he calls her that night. ‘who cares about that?’ she responds, ‘the weirdest thing happened with the voice.’ she tells him of feeling ‘warmest’, of feeling it twice in one day with two different people, of how it refused to go away and occurred without any decisions to make.

‘ok i’m about to share a document with you,’ he says, and lena can hear him typing on his laptop. ‘there, open it.’

it’s a spreadsheet. holy shit.

‘this is every big decision you’ve ever made,’ jack says. ‘there are also some medium sized decisions thrown in, but mostly just the big ones.’ ‘how the hell do you know all this?’ she asks, shocked. ‘why else do you think i’ve been asking you about all this for so long?’ he replies. ‘every time you tell me something the voice says, it’s gone into this spreadsheet. now, i only have limited knowledge of decisions you made before you met me, but i’ve been able to put in a lot of them based on your stories alone. i thought, what better way for you to try and understand this than to put it into words you understand best?’

‘you’re phenomenal,’ lena tells him. ‘i just… i never thought of this. i just assumed it was all some unknowable hippy dippy nonsense.’

‘i mean, it could definitely still be hippy dippy nonsense. but still take a look at it, see if there are any patterns or anything.’

‘i love you, jack.’ ‘too bad i’m gay, huh’

lena sees a lot more of kara and supergirl, though never at the same time. kombucha dates with kara and supergirl swooping in to save her life every now and again. the voice isn’t as overwhelming in their follow up visits, though a pleasant hum of warmth resides low in her being whenever either of them are around. 

maybe, lena thinks, it’s not the voice at all. maybe, she thinks, it’s about time she starts dating again. 

but none of the women she sees bring the same warmth that kara and supergirl do.

the decision data that jack put together doesn’t seem to make much sense either. but she continues to add to it, bit by bit.

and then something weird happens. 

‘you’re getting more potstickers?’ lena laughs. ‘don’t you have any self control?’

‘i’m only human, lena.’

‘i suppose i should believe you.’

COLDER.

COLDER? she’d never gotten a COLDER near kara before. and why? she shouldn’t believe that kara’s human? of course kara’s human! she’s just an awkward, sweet, kind girl from midvale. it’s not like she’s supergirl, for crying out loud!

holy shit

what the fuck

kara’s supergirl?????

kara’s supergirl. it totally makes sense. why hadn’t she seen it before??????? had she been willfully blind to it?

she made a fool out of me, lena thinks. i should hate her. but the voice says COLDER. huh. so hating kara is off the table.

 maybe, she thinks, maybe i knew and i didn’t want to admit it to myself. because clearly kara doesn’t want me to know. and i don’t want to push her into telling me because i don’t want to lose her. i can’t lose her. because i lo---

‘i’m so fucked,’ she tells jack over the phone later that night. ‘kara is supergirl and she doesn’t know that i know and i--’ ‘what is it?’ ‘i think i’m in love with her.’ ‘oh my god FINALLY,’ he yells into the phone. ‘i havent even met kara and i knew you were in love with her. you know she’s all you talk about right? like, you run one of the biggest companies in america and you have a disembodied voice that lives in your head and a million other things going on in your life, and the only thing i’ve heard you talk about for months now is kara danvers.’

‘you did not know’

‘i really did. but im glad you know as well because i can finally present you with my biggest theory on The Voice.’

‘not a voice’

‘remind me what it was that andrea’s aunt or nanny or whoever thought it could be?’

‘that was a million years ago,’ lena says; she hasn’t thought about andrea in ages. she should give her a call. ‘i think it was something about… these types of abilities lead a person to thing they need most in the world.’

‘right. i’ve been doing a lot of new age reading and it hasn’t been pleasant at all and i sort of hated every moment of it, but i think i have some idea of what this could be. it’d explain everything.’

‘well then, what is it?’

‘i don’t think it’s the thing you need most in the world,’ jack says. ‘i think it’s the person you need most in this world.’

‘you mean like-’

‘a soulmate. think about it. somehow every decision that voice has gotten you to make has led you to standing in your office in national city where you met kara for the first time. and what did the voice say when you met kara, completely unprompted?’

‘warmest,’ lena whispers. 

‘exactly. warmest. as in, as warm as can be. because the whole time, the thing this voice has been leading you towards is kara danvers.’

lena’s plan for handling all of these revelations is drinking herself into a stupor. and it’s truly wonderful for the most part.

that is, until she wakes up with a headache and someone pounding their fist on her front door.

‘wHAT,’ she yells as she throws open the door.

‘do you want to explain the voicemails you left me last night?’

oh shit. lena’s hungover brain processes that it’s in fact kara standing at the door. she ushers kara in and shuts the door behind them.

‘to be honest with you,’ lena says as she puts on a pot of coffee, ‘i think i’m still a bit drunk and i definitely dont remember what those messages said.’

you said you know i’m supergirl. you said you’re not angry at me for lying to you--’

‘oh that’s not so bad’

‘-- and you said you have proof we’re soulmates.’

fuck.

‘do you want to explain yourself?’

‘can i drink my coffee first?’

… kara watches her drink her coffee.

‘okay,’ lena says. i’ll explain but you can’t ask any questions til the end. deal?’ kara nods.

the third person lena tells about the voice is kara danvers.

‘my whole life i’ve had this… this sort of voice in my head. and when i have a decision to make in front of me, it says WARMER or it says COLDER. it’s how i’ve made every choice since i was four years old, from the clothes i picked to the type of coffee i drink to the college i went to.’

‘like intuition.’

‘not intuition. fuck. i shouldnt tell you any of this.’

COLDER.

‘well. guess i should tell you about this.’

WARMER

‘it’s not intuition. it’s not a gut feeling. it’s not a part of me. it’s something bigger and otherworldly and it’s been leading me my whole life to something… i can only assume something much bigger and more important than i am. except i also think that the thing it’s been leading me to is you. and you don’t have to believe me at all, and god, you don’t have to believe in soulmates but… but far out, kara. i’m in love with you. i’m so in love with you it’s insane. and if you don’t feel the same way, i understand, but please don’t shut me out. i can live without you being in love with me, but i don’t think i can live without you in my life anymore.’

they stand in silence, lena’s plea still hanging in the air between them.

‘on krypton,’ kara says softly. ‘there’s only one way to know if somebody’s your soulmate or not.’

‘how do they do it?’ lena asks, imagining a blood test or a swab or something.

instead kara takes a step closer to her and she puts her hands on lena’s hips and she presses their foreheads together and she says ‘do you feel it?’

‘what--’

but she feels it. a sort of calm washing over them both. the air stills and lena swears she can hear kara’s heart beating and she feels serenity like she’s never felt it before.

‘wow,’ kara says, and before she can stop herself, lena kisses her softly, barely. but it’s still a kiss.

and she can’t really describe it, but she feels the voice leave her. 

‘i want to kiss you again,’ lena says. but there’s no voice that says warmer or colder. all there is is kara danvers, nodding her head and saying ‘then kiss me.’

lena has many thoughts about soulmates. she thinks if the universe gives you some sort of magical powers, it should also give you an instruction manual for them. she thinks her soulmate is the most perfect soulmate that’s ever been created ever. but this is the real kicker: lena knows that the voice may have led her to kara, but she’s the one who has to make sure she stays there. they have to put in the work together. love isn’t just a magical feeling, it’s building trust and learning to be selfless and letting someone into your life in a multitude of intimate ways. and now that kara’s in her life, in all of her wonderful glory, there’s no way lena will ever let her go.

#supercorp #supergirl #kara danvers #lena luthor #fanfic #my writing

[mutenized]

The Choice Bit of Calico (Chapter One)

Ship: Thomas Shelby x Reader

Characters: Thomas Shelby, Billy Kimber, Ada Shelby, Polly Shelby, Finn Shelby, Arthur Shelby, John Shelby, mentions of Freddie Thorne

Warning(s): mentions of blood, war, and violence (obviously), maybe a slow burn?, forbidden romance, inner conflict, heartache, rebellion. Intended smut. In this chapter there is a bit of time skipping; only 3 times I believe.

A/N: Choice Bit of Calico was slang in the 1920s for a desirable woman. The prologue to this series can be found HERE. HAHA two chapters in one sitting AND posting it before the original post dates? WOAAHHH. Also this one’s a long one so buckle up.

Synopsis: You are the sibling of Billy Kimber. Living with him in London, you heard of nursing classes offered at a church in Birmingham near where you and your older brother were born. It was during World War I and you wanted to do something to help the soldiers from your country as well as the allied countries. Living in your childhood home until you were sent back to London to work at the Veteran’s Hospital, you never forgot about the firey brunette who wanted to do the same as you. Keeping in touch, you both wrote letters back and forth until one fateful day you find yourself back in Birmingham, bags in hand, to take care of an ailing family member. Who knew the moment you got off the train your whole life would change?

Words: 2594

MASTERLIST

A month had passed since you arrived in Birmingham, three weeks since you started the nursing classes at the church, and two weeks since you bonded with the witty yet quick thinking brunette in the class whom you found out was named Ada. You had been partnered to evaluate one another’s quick first aid techniques when it all sparked. Taking suggestions from one another at a pub on the side of town your brother warned you to stay away from turned into meeting her younger brother Finn and Aunt Polly who lived on Watery Lane which evolved into having dinners with the three of them every Wednesday, drinks every Saturday, and breakfast every Sunday.

Ada’s family soon became your own, learning of her three brothers who were over in Europe; the oldest in the Ottoman Empire, the second oldest in France, and the last stationed in a location that was to be kept top secret. When no letters arrived in the post, you were there for the distressed duo. Whether it was help around the house as they try to find out from people in their inner circles if there were any reports of the three men to infirmaries or morgues or even keep the news away from little Finn who was only seven years of age. You found that he enjoyed helping you around in the gardens on nice days and telling you about his favorite types of horses. Though you knew nothing of the animal other than the fact they can be used in racing and that they were being overworked in London for carriage rides though cars were becoming more readily available, you listened to him jammer on and on until he became too hungry or tired to continue.

You hoped for the three of them that the three men over at war would come home safely. For the first time in ages, you prayed.

Two more months passed, and you were three months into the nursing class. Nearing the ending of the courses, it had been decided by the instructor, a nurse at one of the largest hospitals in the south, that you and Ada were both not fit for in field work but, due to both of your wonderful communication skills, that working with veterans that were in rehabilitation or facing treatments for their injuries was the best choice. Seeing that the closest veteran’s hospital was back in London, you faced conflict. Continue living in Birmingham and risk Billy finding out you aren’t finding any work in the medical field but rather conversing and being social with those you grew close to, which would result in him dragging you back to London under his supervision, or take the job that was offered to you at Imperial Order Of the Daughters Of The Empire Hospital and live on your own until the war was over and see what the future held. 

Choosing to go back to London on your own accord was heartbreaking to you, it was like the last day of primary school before you were homeschooled by the tutor your brother hired. You felt as if you would never see Ada or her family again as well as the other friends you had made. On the last night before your departure, Polly had invited you over for drinks with her and Ada. Finn was at a friend’s house for the night which left the lot of you free to drink without worrying about being too loud or filtering your stories in case Finn decided to play spy in the middle of the night. With your trunk sitting by the front entrance as well as the suitcase you had brought with you, you sat around the round table with the two other women you had become so close to. They had already given you a present for good luck. A pristine nurse uniform that Polly had seen a usual at the pub’s wife wear one day as they crossed paths on the street laid unfolded on the table as the three of them admired the soon-to-be-fleeting cleanliness of it. Ada, on the other hand, had gifted you a golden locket with a photo of the two of you that a man had taken while testing out the newest camera to come out. That day you and Ada, drunk off your asses, tried to sit as still as you could as the camera process as slow as a snail. “I remember we went from The Garrison into that damned parlor. It was a fuckin’ shame we went there first. Imagine all of the drunken shopping we would’ve done.” Ada jabbed, causing you to laugh so hard you spilt your drink all over you robe.

That night, words of advice, stories of family and friends, and songs were sung until your eyes couldn’t stay open anymore. The next thing you could remember was Polly waking you up, Finn on her side with tears in his eyes. “This one was picked up this morning and wants to go with ya’ to London.” Polly smiled sullenly, your eyes softening from the groggy, hungover state they were into something more awake and less irritated. Your heart broke as you saw tears on the boy’s cheeks.

“Oh Finn, you know I’d love to take you and Pol and Ada to London with me,” You began, thumb brushing off the tears that rested on his cheeks, “But I can’t take you three, which breaks my heart. But, with you here with them, I know you’re going to protect them, right?” With a sad nod, Finn fell into your chest as he cuddles up into you one last time. It was hard saying goodbye to them, but Finn’s sadness really made the decision settle in. Pressing a kiss to the boy who you considered your little brother’s forehead, you pick him up and begin to say goodbye to Polly and Ada, sad smiles all around as you grab your trunk and suitcase. A honk sounded which signaled your exit, a final wave as you loaded your items into the car’s backseat before joining the driver in the front. “To the trains please.” You spoke, settling into the seat though it was a short ride.

4 years passed, many patients that you had helped were back finding their ways through their daily life once again. Within those four years you had always kept in touch with Ada and Polly, writing letters back and forth about what has gone on in each other’s lives. One day, a letter came for you, Ada’s flourish on the envelope. The note read:

“(Y/N),

Obviously, you’ve heard that the war’s over, thank fucking God (I don’t think I would have lasted if it went on for any longer). With that, all three brothers are home and the chaos has picked up right where it was left off. Arthur is being a dumbass, Thomas is being a hard-ass, and John is being a jackass.

I miss having you here, you’re my last hope of sanity in all honesty. I think you were Polly’s as well, having seen that I’ve been sneaking out to visit Freddie Thorne. Oh, (Y/N), I have so much I need to tell you but so little I can write without having Thomas go through my shit. Let’s hope this gets to you soon, I don’t think I’ll last in this god forsaken house one last minute with the way the ass trio continues to act.

Will you come visit soon? Did they offer you a job?

Please write back soon, it’s the only thing I look forward to now,

Ada”

Laughing at the thought of stubborn Ada dealing with her brothers, you looked around your London apartment and sighed. You had notified your brother that you were moving back to Birmingham to help with the veterans down in Small Heath. Under the guise of the hospital having a volunteer program being funded, Billy handed you over the keys before sending you out of his office. “Anything else? The races are starting soon, and this damn horse keeps fucking winning.” He had grumbled causing you to roll your eyes and head back to your own apartment to pack. Now, with the letter in your hand and the key in your jacket pocket as well as a train ticket, you grinned widely. Ada always found joy in surprises, though they were always small ones like when you sent her imported cigarettes for her birthday.

In the matter of twenty-four hours you went from living in London with a well-paying job and new experiences to living in Small Heath, Birmingham with no job, a house, and one family who cared for you. Gazing out the window of the cab you caught, you pay him the pounds before stepping out. “How much for you to help me bring the trunks inside?” You inquire, the man letting out a solid laugh, much to your misery. “Oi, I drive a cab, not own a fuckin’ moving company. Should have thought of getting one.” He spat, helping you take out the trunks you packed before speeding off. Cursing him under your breath, you used all the strength you could muster to drag the heavy trunks into the foyer and leaving them there. No way were you getting those things upstairs. Not tonight, at least. You had more important things to tend to, anyways. Like visiting Polly and Ada, hopefully. You prayed that they were at the house in Watery Lane and not out dealing with some ‘family matters’ as Ada would explain.

Finding the trunk that you had packed with clothes and shoes, you pulled out the outfit you had planned for surprising the duo. Pulling out the cornflower blue silk chiffon dress, you paired them with the white button up shoes that a soldier’s wife had gifted you for saving his life when he randomly fell ill. Tucking the locket Ada had gifted you all those years ago into the top of your dress, you quickly fixed the pattern curls of your hair before grabbing the golden compact you had carried always and key to your house. Setting down the roads as the sun was beginning to set, you noticed the abundance of men who bore flat caps that had tip’s that, when the light caught it correctly, gleamed in the light whose appearances multiplied in number the closer you drew to the house of Polly. Worry settled in but you didn’t let it phase your emotions physically.

The nerves in your stomach seemed to spread as you felt eyes on you when you walked up the steps to the house you frequented not so long ago. Either way, you knocked at the door hard enough it was heard and took a step back. Rolling on the balls of your feet, you waited for the door to open and when it did? You were met with a man who was slightly taller than you with a freckled face and striking blue eyes. Before either of you could even speak, you heard the sound of running feet across the wooden floors before seeing a taller, spritelier, Finn.

“(Y/N)! You’re back! When did you come back!?” The now eleven-year-old inquired, a grin on your face. The man in front of you seemed confused, but still never took his calculating gaze off of you. “I came in this afternoon! I’m movin’ back down to my house, remember when you and Ada came over and had a picnic in the parlor?” You grinned, the boy nodding furiously before turning to the group that had formed at the door.

“Arthur, Tommy, John! This is (Y/N), Ada’s friend! They met at those nursing classes Ada took four years ago!” Finn informed the brothers, realization coming across their face.

“(Y/N), nice to meet ya’. ‘m John, that tall, lanky one is Arthur, and the statue here is Thomas, call ‘im Tommy though. Thomas is too formal for ‘im.” The youngest out of the three, John, spoke with a smirk on his face. Moving aside, the men let you in before the eldest, Arthur, spoke up.

“So what brings ya’ back to Small Heath? Can’t be better from where you’re comin’ from.” A chuckle left his lips as you sat down at the kitchen table comfortably, too comfortable for the middle brother, Tommy’s, liking. “You know you should wait for Polly before you sit. It’s a bit rude.” His gravelly voice rang in your head and his piercing blue eyes stared into yours. You could tell he was waiting for you to submit. That wasn’t going to happen, that’s for sure.

“Oh, I’m moving back from London. Worked at Imperial Order Of the Daughters Of The Empire Hospital until about three days ago. Decided to move back here since I feel more at home here. Like seeing the horses on the street being taken care of rather than being beat down for not being fast enough at the carriage rides, you know?” You start out, focusing your gaze on Arthur who settled in his seat across from you before turning to Tommy.

“Would you like to see my correspondence with Pol, as well, Tommy? I don’t carry her notes on me but I do have them back at my house here in Small Heath. If you’d want to take a stroll with a lowly Londoner, then let it happen. Just know the days the two of them hadn’t heard anything from you lot I was here, helping around the house and with Finn,” pausing, you look between the three who seem taken aback that you didn’t crush under the gaze of Tommy who was now glaring daggers at you, “Not to say your lack or correspondence is directly your fault, but they worried. They were scared you had died and didn’t want Finn to hear the discussions of phoning local morgues that received army men’s bodies.”

Before Tommy could retort, a gasp from the front door was heard. Polly. Grinning wide, you instantly shot up from the chair you relaxed in and made your way to engulf the woman in a tight hug. With tears in your eyes, you pulled back to look over the woman with a smile. “(Y/N), what are you doing here!? I…I’m fuckin’ speechless. Does Ada know you’re here? Are you just visiting?” Her questions continued on just as Finn’s did in which you answered them all with the brightest, happiest tone in your voice. It wasn’t until her eyes locked with an annoyed Thomas that she realized she wasn’t there to greet her and neither was Ada.

“Hope they didn’t give you a hard time,” she whispered before steeling up and turning to the three men, “This is Miss (Y/N). She’s a family friend, if I hear anything about any of you thinking with your cocks and not your brains, I’ll fuckin’ beat ‘ya. She doesn’t deserve the crock of shit you three stew. Now, (Y/N), come with me. I have a lot to catch you up on.”

With that, you were guided into the parlor, unknowing to the booming business behind the curtain in the kitchen. You were also unaware of the burning blue eyes that scanned you from head to toe as you left. Another thing you were unaware of? The fact you just walked into the den of the Peaky Blinders and that you, Billy Kimber’s kid sister, were an unknown enemy by fault. This was going to become the beginning of the most trivial times.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder headcanon #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #thomas shelby #ada shelby #ada thorne #finn shelby #john shelby #arthur shelby #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders reader insert #reader insert #thomas shelby smut #tommy shelby #tommy shelby fanfic #thomas shelby fanfic #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby x reader smut #thomas shelby x reader smut #Peaky Blinders smut

[infinity-and-luck]

Happy Valentine’s @ombreblossom! I tried to combine two of your prompts, so it’s some good JonGeorgie platonic intimacy + Jon talking to her about his feelings for Martin! I hope you enjoy! You can also read it here on ao3!

The past few days have been less spending time with Jon, whom she hasn’t seen in years and more not spending time with the Admiral who has abandoned her for her ex. Not that she minded, of course, she was glad they were happy together and it’s given her some time to work on her show in peace, but she’s missed the company. After all, who doesn’t love having their cat try to stick his butt into your face while you’re working?

Some of the perks of working from home and for herself, though, were that she could a) make her own schedule and b) make time to spend with both of her boys now.

Truth be told, she had missed Jon. They’d parted on...less than favourable terms, yes, but they had good times together. They understood one another. She missed that. She missed him.

So when he had knocked on her door asking for a place to stay and hide, she let him. It was a little weird, yeah, but what wasn’t these days?

It was worth it, of course. In addition to regaining a friend and finding a new conversation partner, she’d also gotten a housecleaner even though he didn’t have to repay her but it was actually kind of nice because she hated doing dishes, so thank you.

Granted, things were a bit awkward at first, neither sure of what to say or do around each other, but they figured things out rather quickly and, after that, things became a bit more natural. She’d always enjoyed spending time with Jon, which was exactly what she was doing right now.

They were sitting on the sofa having finished watching a movie—Shaun of the Dead. There was something about moments like these that reminded her of when she and Jon had just started dating before they grew apart. Back when they used to spend quiet nights in without the pressure to be “romantic.”

Georgie’s head was nestled against Jon’s shoulder—it was a more comfortable position than one might think, especially since he was practically swimming in the hoodie she’d loaned him which made for a nice pillow—and the Admiral sat tucked between them, gently purring.

“So...you’re still not going to tell me about whatever happened at your job that’s landed you here?”

Jon tensed briefly, and Georgie took his hand in hers to provide some comfort. “It’s...complicated.”

“What did you do again? Didn’t you get a job at that Institute or whatever?” She forgot what the name was, but she thought she had done an episode on it at some point. It would’ve been an early one. She and Jon had talked about it when discussing their plans after graduating...Magnus. The Magnus Institute, she remembered.

“Yeah, uh, I am...was...the Head Archivist. A recent promotion.”

“Head….Archivist? Do you even know what you do in an archive?” Last she checked, he’d studied English.

“I mean, sort of? I kind of figured it out. Really, I have no clue why I was chosen for the job, especially when I know of others who probably would’ve done a better job.”

Georgie gently rubbed the back of Jon’s hand. “I’m sure you’ve done a good job.”

“Heh, thanks. I’ve had a lot of help obviously.”

“Ah. The ever famous Martin, yeah?” Since he’s been staying with her, Jon has mentioned Martin at least five times a day. Oh, Martin makes my tea that way or Martin always wears yellow or some other off-handed comment about some guy named Martin who seemed to be the sweetest guy imaginable. It was actually quite sweet how much he talked about him.

He nodded ever so slightly so as to not disturb her too much. “He was one of my assistants. I do feel bad sometimes. I was pretty hard on Martin at the beginning. In my defence though, he had brought a dog into the archives and I know you’re not supposed to do that.”

“Why did he bring a dog in?”

“I don’t know. I think he found it outside and was watching it? He does stuff like that a lot. Takes care of things. Goodness knows he’s taken care of me more than a number of times since we’ve met.” The corner of Jon’s mouth crept up into a smile at the memory of being at his desk, eyes barely open as he watched Martin walk out of his office after bringing him some tea and laying his coat over him like a blanket.

“He sounds lovely.”

“He is.” Georgie could feel Jon’s cheeks heat up as he said that. She didn’t mention it but she wore a smile of her own. She knew Jon had been upset by the breakup, but she had been too bitter then to reach out and fix it. Years later and she still felt bad for that. Seeing him like this though was good. Jon deserved to be happy.

The Admiral, apparently tired of the lack of attention being focused on him, moved from his spot between the two of them and started nudging his head into Jon’s side.

“Oh, sorry.” Jon gave him a scratch behind his ear before turning back to Georgie. “I want you to know that when I leave, I’m taking him with me,” he said matter-of-factly like there was no question about it.

She gasped, sitting up so she could face Jon. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“I would!”

“Well, then you better not leave.” It came out in equal parts jest and threat, but she hoped he could hear the love in it too, the please stay here for a little bit longer. I’ve missed you. The unspoken I love you that was still present between the two of them; not romantically, not anymore, but just in general. She loved Jon.

Jon laughed. It was the lightest and happiest she’s heard him sound in so long and she knew he got the message. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Yes, Georgie thought, it wasn’t bad to have Jon back at all.

#tma #tma fic #jon sims #Georgie barker #jongeorgie #Jonmartin #my writing #tma valentine's exchange 2021 #tma valentine's exchange

[mae-gi-writes]

Halloween Escapade | Jacob (The Boyz)

You and Jacob both dislike parties, so why not ditch it to get Mcdonald’s? 

Genre: fluff

A/N: I KNOW I’M ONE MONTH LATE FOR HALLOWEEN But I saved this in my drafts and forgot to post it. Nothing too intense, just a little cute Jacob. Enjoy <3 

-----

“You mind doing my makeup?" Looking up from your makeup palette, your heart does a little stutter at the sight of a dishevelled-looking Jacob decked in what seems to be a skeleton-themed shirt and pants. On the occasion of Halloween, the office had decided to close its doors early to celebrate. It was also a good excuse to order some good assortments of finger-picking foods and expensive cake. Being the artist that you were, you had brought along your entire makeup collection, ready to help out anyone in need of paint or decoration on their face.

But you had not expected Jacob, of all people, to be standing before you while shuffling his feet like a shy little schoolboy. He is obviously of a higher status than you are in the office, one of the Directors that has a certain percentage of shares, no doubt. You as a mere office worker that looked up to him in admiration, and had to admit that you had developed a little crush throughout the months of noticing his gentle and kind demeanour. "Uh--sure," you quickly stutter out before gesturing towards the seat, "you can sit here." He does so without complaint as you ask, "what kind of makeup do you want?" "Could you do a skull?" "Uhm--" that takes a long time, your brain screams out at you, "s--sure. No promises, though." "That's alright. The uglier the better anyway," he pauses, "not that your drawings are ugly, I--that's not what I meant." You chuckle softly signalling to him that it's all good. Opening up your palette and dabbing your sponge with white powder, you hesitate slightly before you start covering his face; his eyebrows, over his eyes, down the slope of his nose. He's gorgeous, you think to yourself while trying not to giggle at the thought of you two being so close in physical proximity. You hope that he can't hear the way your heart practically beats out of your chest, an excited hummingbird bursting out through your ribcage. "So...did you learn that yourself?" Jacob asks after a bout of silence. "Mostly. But I was always comfortable with painting and all that stuff," you start contouring his face with gray and silently appreciate the flawless texture of his skin, "I used to do makeup for halloween every year when I was still in school." "That's so cool. I wish I could paint like that," his eyes flutter open to momentarily gaze into your eyes, "the only thing I'm good at are numbers." "Well you know, I grew up wishing I was good at numbers." 'We always want something we can't have." "True," you start blending the black with the white, the makeup taking on a grey tone to create a shadow, "but if it makes you feel better, most people admire the ones who know their numbers well." "You sound like you know something about that." You just smile faintly, "I hope I don't sound too whiny. That wasn't my intention." "No, your honesty is...refreshing," he mumbles through closed lips as you brush over his face with the blender, "I mean, I don't really know how it feels because I'ver never faced this kind of problem. But I can understand how frustrating that might be, for people to judge someone based on their jobs." His compliment throws you off, so much so that you can't help the heat from spreading over your cheeks, "oh--uh, I hope that wasn't too rude. I wasn't trying to offend you or anything--" "No no, not offended," Jacob raises his hands in mock surrender, "I'd be frustrated too, in your place." His blunt sweetness makes your heart flutter and it makes you glad that his eyes are closed at this very moment, for it would've probably made you even more embarrassed to be looking at him face to face. Clearing your throat, you move to his eyes, applying soft dark smudges over his lids as he asks,"so, how do you find life here?" That's how it goes, with him sitting patiently and as still as a statue, and you painting the contours of his face while trying your best not to admire the beauty of the man sitting before you, a work of art you simply can't take your eyes off of. But the more you converse, the more you realize how much you have in common. And the result is astounding, to say the least. For starters, you would never have known that your superior hates socials the most, or that despite people at the office drinking their coffee black, Jacob prefers his coffee with lots of milk and sugar that is enough to cause him diabetes. Not that he's proud of it, mind you. It's not until someone coughs loudly behind Jacob that you realize he's been sitting there a lot longer than he's supposed to, jumping before quickly noticing the growing line of impatient people waiting for their makeup. "Oh sorry sorry!" He jumps up, as though startled he's stayed that long, "I'll leave you to it then, Y/N. Thank you so much for the makeup." "Oh no worries," your heart drops slightly at the thought that you'll never get the chance to talk to him like this again. But before you have time to dwell on that fact, another colleague is asking for a vampire kind of look. You lose sight of Jacob for most of the night, though small glimpses of his handsome figure is enough to entertain your little fantasy. You try not to feel so disheartened, knowing full well that there's not even a single strand of hope that he'll even look at you that way. Hell, he doesn' t even look at you. Stop being stupid, you tell yourself sharply. Nothing's never going to happen. He's probably already taken, idiot. "I'm going home," you mutter to your colleague as another song blasts through the stereo hall. The group protests but you shake your head and quietly slip out to leave all the noise behind, the night air welcoming you with its fresh chilly air. A soft sigh falls from your lips when you close your eyes for a brief moment. A car honks in the distance, you pay no mind. Let's go home, you think to yourself, body turning towards the subway station. You walk a few steps, only to hear another honk, closer this time. You stop and turn, a frown stitching your eyebrows together upon noticing a car pull up next to you. You're surprised to see Jacob's face greet you when the window rolls down. You blink at him. "Need a ride?" --------- That is how you find yourself sitting in Mcdonald's parking lot a few minutes later with warm food takeaways in your lap and the smell of fries wafting through the air, chatting with a man whom you'd deemed unapproachable for the past few months and realizing that there is so much more to what you see to him on a daily basis. You'd be lying to say that you don't feel your heart staggering every time he looks at you with those beautiful mahogany orbs that seem to hold galaxies. "I never used to celebrate Halloween," Jacob is saying as he pops a chip into his mouth, "my mother hates it, says it's useless to be celebrating an event that rouses the dead." "Technically, she's right." "Yeah, my five year old self didn't think so though." "You managed to celebrate in college?" He nods before pulling a face, "first and last time I drank till I puked." "That sounds fun," sarcasm drips from your voice before you laugh softly at the tongue he pulls out sat you. It's so easy to talk to him, too easy. It scares you, this foreign uninvited sensation of something fluttering through your ribcage as if you're constantly sitting on a swing that is going too fast for you. You talk about school, about where you come from, about how you sometimes miss your parents dearly and how hard it was at first, to be away from home for so long. And then he tells you about growing up, about his childhood dream of becoming a basketball player, one that broke the moment he realized it'd be much harder to actually get into the professional league. And then it quickly drifts to the troubles of life itself, to the nostalgia of losing friends when you grow up, to discussing multiple theories about what the future holds. "Woah, it's late," Your eyes widen in realization when you spot the time upon his dashboard. 3:30.a.m. "Oh," his own eyes go round, "shit I'm sorry. I didn't want to keep yo--" "No no, it's okay. I had fun," you smile softly at him while recalling yiur conversation, "I'm glad we got to talk." Relief breaks out as a sigh through of his lips, "that's good to know," his eyes find yours then, bathed in the reflection of the cheap streetlight hanging over your car, but you realise that it doesn't matter, for Jacob is ephemerally beautiful and carries that around with him wherever he goes. Your heart tugs when you realise that the night will have to end at some point, watching him pull out of the parking lot while asking you for directions to your house. The night started out with no expectations, with the sense that you can't breathe around the people you're surrounded with. Yet, this moment feels like a gust of oxygen bursting through your lungs. "Can I say something?" Jacob's voice pulls you out of your reverie as he turns onto your street, glancing over at you out of the corner of his eye. You hum for him to continue. He does after a few beats of hesitation. "You know you can talk to me, even if we're at the office," his murmur is so soft you barely catch it. You look at him in surprise, not expecting such words to fall from his lips. But the look he gives you is one that makes heat spread throughout your chest in parallel to the heat covering your cheeks. He continues, "I know that a lot of people are scared of me, because of what they think I might do considering my privileges. But take that title away and I'm just like everyone else." At this point, his vehicle wheels to a stop right before your front door and he turns his head so that your gazes clash, dark obsidian filled with a gentleness that you can't quite explain, though it causes your heartbeat to stutter. You gaze back though, trying to decipher the way his face softens and the tender way his lips are curved into a half-smile, as if you're sharing a private joke. "Well," you clear your throat, head whipping towards your door and hand finding the car handle, "I guess that's my stop." Biting your lip and debating whether to follow through with the aftermath of his words haunting your ears, you quickly turn back to him, "I don't think you're that kind of person. I don't think you could ever go behind someone's back just for the sheer fun of it," you see his gaze widen with surprise, "So don't worry about that." Jacob just stares at you in the pause that follows. You stare back, mentally debating whether you should just throw yourself out of the window for being so stupid or whether to ask the said man himself to run you over, so mortified at the prospect of having said such a thing that your orbs immediately drop to your lap. "I ...thank you," comes Jacob's whisper, "that...nobody has ever said that before." "A--Anyway, I should probably go--" you quickly scramble to open the car door only to be stopped by his hand swinging out to grab yours. "Wait," he says breathlessly, "I--Do you want to--you know maybe do this again? Sometime? I--" a shy smile dances across his lips, "I had fun, Y/N." Your heart swells. Your neck flushes with heat as your eyes drop to the ground, "I had fun too," you mumble, allowing his hand to slide down your arm until it reaches yours. His fingers, as soft as a dove's touch, gently twine around yours like vines and a breath catches in your throat. Jesus, he's perfect. "Yeah," your murmur, "I'd like to do this again." You don't want to look at him. You can't look at him, for you know that once you do there'll be no mistaking the blatant effect he has on you, and that is something you wish to keep to yourself a little longer. But that thought flies out of the window the moment you feel the softest of caresses upon your knuckles. Head shooting up to catch Jacob's lips skimming over the back of your head, a shiver runs through your spine the moment your eyes lock with all the feelings you've been attempting to cast aside for most of the night. "Great," he grins against your hand, "I'll pick you up at seven tomorrow?"

#jacob bae #jacob the boyz #the boyz jacob #the boyz scenarios #the boyz imagines #jacob imagines #jacob bae imagines #jacob scenarios #jacob bae scenarios #jacob drabbles #jacob au #jacob fanfiction #the boyz imagine #the boyz fluff #the boyz soft hours #deobi drabbles #deobidrabbles #deobiwritersnet #deobiwritersnetwork #tbzwriters #tbzwritersnet #tbz scenarios #tbz imagines #tbz fanfic #tbz imagine #fluff #halloween imagine #kpop imagine #kpop scenario #kpop fanfiction

[ohwaitimthewriter]

Ner naak (My peace)

Pairing : Din Djarin x earthling!reader

Warning : none.

Summarize : Din Djarin meets you, an earthling, who has no idea of the existence of an outer space. 

Words : 2633

A/n : This is probably the longest story I had to translate but I hope it really worths it! You can find the previous chapters in the Ner naak Masterlist link just below. Enjoy your reading!! 

Masterlist. // Ner naak Masterlist.

Life, could manifest itself in some particularly strange ways. And there were many things you had not expected to experience, the first of which was to host two beings from the space under your roof. The second was probably having to justify the presence of a man in full armor sitting in the passenger seat of your car. 

You had managed to convince Mando to leave the child at home, under the watchful eye of your dog. In fact, you had even hoped that he too would remain out of sight, but trying to convince a Mandalorian was a long shot. 

Mando insisted on coming with you. You were going to look for the mechanical parts needed to get the ship back up and running, and he wanted to make sure you had the right materials. Even though you had explained to him that in any case, the parts you collected would be transformed to fit the ship, he didn't want to hear anything. 

Din was actually curious. He had heard so much about the Earth and its people. And to him, you were like an alien, it was a whole world to discover, and he didn't want to miss it for anything in the world. It might even have been the first time he could take the time to discover a planet without getting shot. 

But it didn't make it any easier for you. 

You looked at your neighbor, leaning against your car door, with the most natural smile you could offer. Your hands were clenched on your steering wheel and your neurons were already wriggling to find a logical explanation for Mando's armor.

"Anton! To what do I owe the pleasure?" 

"Oh, I saw you get in the car with... huh, your friend, I thought I'd say hi."  He said, staring at Mando indiscreetly. "Is there a carnival in town or something?" He asked for you.

Anton wouldn't take his eyes off Mando and it was getting embarrassing. You couldn't tell how Mando felt, but if you were in his shoes, you probably would have hated that look. You could see from the corner of your eye that Mando was holding his gaze. So you came up with the best excuse you could think of.

"Actually, it's a birthday party for a friend's daughter. She's turning six, and you know how little girls that age are, they dream of having their knight in shining armor." You say. "So, huh, my friend here has kindly offered to play along."

You clear your throat. You prayed silently for this lie to work, and when your neighbor suddenly appeared to understand a math class, you refrained from crying out for relief. 

"Ah! Like the knights of the Round Table! What an impressive armor, don't change a thing buddy!" Anton enthused over. 

Mando stared at him silently. Poor Mando, he probably didn't understand anything about this knight story, but at least it was a decent explanation for the moment.

You didn't want to linger there any longer, you thanked Anton and ended up on the road to your mechanic.

"A knight in shining armor?" Mando asked you. 

" Well, it's a long story. But to make it short, the novels are full of romantic stories involving medieval knights. I could lend you a book on the legends of King Arthur, if you like to read, of course." You said. 

"I don't know if I like reading." 

You took your eyes off the road to look at Mando. How could someone not know whether or not they liked to read? And you suddenly wondered what that man had done in his life to not be able to know. 

"I never had a chance to read." 

Din felt he had to justify himself. You had been so surprised by his answer that he wondered if reading was not an integral part of being an earthling. And then you nodded, giving him a warm smile. How could so much kindness slumber in a single being?

"Well, since you're going to be stuck here for a little while, maybe this is your chance to find out?" 

Mando didn't answer anything. Only a hesitant nod indicated that he agreed, and your smile only got bigger. 

Din watched you focus on the road again. He took the opportunity to take a look at the machine that was driving you both to your chosen destination. It was a strange passenger compartment. He had quickly figured out that it was thanks to the pedals that you were sending the necessary impulse to the machine to move forward, but he was still amazed by the lack of controls and instruments for piloting. He put his arm on the armrest of the car door, but because of his gauntlet, the button to open the window went off. 

The third thing that was particularly unexpected for you was to see a Mandalorian getting startled by a window opening itself. You had to admit it, Mando was a strange bird, but watching him discover the little earthly things was surprisingly entertaining. You closed the window on your side calmly as Mando settled back onto his seat, almost embarrassed to have been surprised. 

"At least I know I'm not the only one who's taken aback by new things." You said. "Wait, you're gonna love this!" You excitedly said as you pressed the button to turn on the radio. 

The music spread around the car and Mando suddenly stared at the radio. There were probably more controls to monitor this little box than there were to drive the vehicle. The music playing was rather rhythmic, Din noticed that you were tapping your steering wheel with your fingers in sync with the song and you seemed to particularly enjoy the song. It was weird by the way. It didn't sound like anything he'd ever heard before, but as strange as it sounded, it wasn't unpleasant at all. 

"You can change if you don't like it, just press this button. " you told him.

Din was curious, he pressed it and suddenly several voices rose up to narrate he didn't know what about he didn't know who. He pressed again and this time a much softer song was played. He liked it. He let it end and changed the radio station again until you recognized the first notes of a band that you had fully intended to introduce to the Mandalorian. 

"This one! That's them!" you  exclaimed. 

"Them?"

"Daft Punk, that's them!" 

You couldn't see it, but Din frowned as he listened to Get Lucky playing on the radio. He was focused on whether or not he liked those "Daft Punk" with whom you had compared him. His finger barely touched the button, ready to change the station and after a few seconds of listening, he didn't feel particularly flattered by the music. He changed it without any further ado. 

"You don't like it?"

"Not really." he replied. 

"It would have been funny, you guys look alike, you'd have made a great trio. " You teased. 

"Why?"

You didn't say anything. You checked to see if there were any police officers around before you took out your phone, looking on the internet for a picture of the Daft Punk. Then you handed your phone to Mando, who silently observed the picture of the two men in helmets. 

"It's not beskar, it won't even stop a blaster shot, these helmets are useless." He stated suddenly, putting the phone back where you took it. 

You couldn't help but giggle. You shook your head in disbelief, looking at him. 

"Beskar doesn't exist here and these helmets aren't made for..." And then you realized what he just said. "Wait, a shot of... of what?"

"Blaster. " he said. 

"What the... no. Actually, I'd rather not know." You changed your mind. "These helmets are like, let's say, a symbol. It's just, for appearance's sake." 

Din didn't really understand the point behind it, so he didn't answer. Maybe there was some logic in it, but in this case, it was beyond his knowledge. 

Then you park the car at a small parking lot. There was a building in corrugated iron across the street, and several dented cars were stored under a shed. 

" Here we are. This is where I hope to find most of the pieces for your ship. This auto shop belongs to my father's old friend. He shouldn't ask too many questions. " You said, more to reassure yourself than to reassure Mando. 

"If he does, I'm still a knight in shining armor. "He said, and you could hear the grin that Din had on his face. 

He didn't get out of the car until you stepped outside. You had made a list so that you wouldn't waste too much time here. 

" The only thing you're missing is your trusty steed. " you joked. 

As soon as you'd finished your sentence, your father's friend was already coming to meet the two of you.

"Y/n! It's good to see you!" 

"Hello Henry, it's been a long time. "You said. 

"I know you've been working a lot, but you should tell your students to leave you alone for an hour or two and come see me! "He called out. 

"You're right, they'll probably be happy about that actually. "You said. 

"And who are you bringing me?" 

Henry turned to Mando, offering his hand to shake it. Mando seemed to hesitate for a moment, but when you nodded gently, he shook Henry's hand. 

"Henry, this is Mando."

"Nice to meet you, Mando, so tell me, what can I do for you?" Henry just went on. 

You handed him your list, mentally thanking him for not dwelling on Mando's appearance. Henry stared at it, rubbing his beard. 

"Well, it's a big restoration you got there. "He noticed. 

"Ah, that's a hell of a slog, you could say. "You said. 

"What type?"

"Never been seen before. " You answered and you couldn't be more exact. " It belongs to Mando. It's a real gem. You wouldn't believe it."

You would've given yourself an Award for acting. Henry glanced enviously at Mando, probably imagining a real gem in the automobile world. 

"Any self-respecting man gives his marvel a name, so what's the name of this beauty?" 

You rolled your eyes. Only a man like Henry could have said such a thing. But, to your surprise, Mando replied. 

"The Razor Crest." 

"You'll have to show me that car!"

"Once we get it up and running. " Mando said. 

You were stunned to see Mando getting into your game, but you were happy about it. Henry nodded and sneaked into his workshop with your list. 

"The Razor Crest?" You repeated. "So you really give names to ships?" 

"It's more like..." Mando looked around before he showed you the license plate of a car in the parking lot. "something like that." 

"License plate? Ships are identified in space?"

He nodded when Henry appeared again, making a sign to follow him. After joining him to the workshop, Henry pushed a wagon towards you and Mando. 

"I don't have everything, but take what you can. " he said. 

"Thank you, Henry. Let me know the bill. "You said. 

He nodded and left the two of you to gather the pieces.

You'd already stuck your nose in the high shelves, scrutinizing every piece of metal you encountered. 

"It's nice of you to offer, but unfortunately, whatever money you have is probably worthless here. That's one of the consequences of not knowing the true extent of the universe. " You said, grabbing an alternator in your hand. 

You looked at it from every angle and decided it would do the trick. You put several in the cart. You took a step back, trying to find out where Henry stored his spark plugs.

"So how can I thank you? " Mando asked. 

"Well... if you've got a way to get to the top of that shelf, I'm in."

You showed him the position of the spark plugs and sighed looking for a stepladder, but Mando had another idea in mind. 

"I've got one. " he simply said. 

You frowned, not understanding what he wanted to do when he pushed his cloak to one side, revealing a dorsal reactor. You would have been speechless if he hadn't suddenly left the ground and risen three feet in the air, grabbing a few spark plugs before reaching the ground again.

You lost your words as Mando handed you the pieces. You didn't want to stare at him, but it wasn't very common to see a human being flying with a jet pack either. 

"People don't do that around here?" Mando said.

It was more of a statement than a question, but you shook your head, telling him that they didn't. But you couldn't stop smiling either. 

"It's just, amazing. "You said as you picked up the spark plugs. " But, uh... " You moved closer to Mando to put his cloak back over the jet pack. "As much as I'd love to try that someday, you' d better hide this. »

You felt sad about having to tuck away Mando's appearance like that. Though, you smiled at him kindly as you kept selecting useful mechanical components for the ship. 

"Earthlings really don't like anything that doesn't look like them. " Mando said suddenly.

It couldn't be more true. You were watching Mando. His helmet, his armor, the equipment that girdled him, and now his jetpack. You weren't really concerned about the "normal" people, you were concerned about the authorities. You were worried about the government, the scientists, NASA, all those people who would make sure that no one would find out about a faraway place. You were worried about these people and their scientific experiments. You were gradually realizing that you were probably the only person on Earth who had living proof that the universe was much wider than people were willing to admit. And somehow that was frightening and it put you in a dangerous position. Because people don't like those who know too much. 

"I wish I could tell you that it's not true, that everyone can proudly show their culture and their differences, but in fact it is not the case. If you're not within the framework, you become a target. And there are so many crazy people in this world that some would be able to kill you for being different. I really wish I could proudly announce that you're living proof that we're not alone in the universe, but that would be like sentencing us to death... both of us. " You concluded. 

Din had paid attention to your words. Maybe he had been wrong. Maybe he wasn't as safe on this planet as he thought he was. He was becoming more and more aware that leaving the Earthlings behind in the universe had done more harm than good. And then, your last sentence caught his attention. Sentencing you both to death. Why would she be? He understood why he would, but y/n? He didn't realize he could endanger you just by knowing he existed.

Din stopped you suddenly, putting his hand on your shoulder for the first time. It may even have been the very first time he had ever initiated physical contact with an almost stranger. And it felt like a pact he was signing with you. 

"I can promise you this will never happen. " Mando said. 

"You don't know about the doggedness of our leaders. " You said.

"And they don't know about the Mandalorians."

His statement sounded like a promise, and the anxiety that Din had noticed in your eyes had evaporated. Yes, if necessary, he would protect you.

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#the mandalorian #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian x reader #mandalorian #mando #mando x reader #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin imagine #star wars #ner naak series #mandalorian x reader

[merakiaes]

Unfortunate Sleeping Arrangements - Zuko

Pairing: Zuko x reader

Requested: By @star-mum

Warnings/notes: It’s a bit quick and probably sucky as it’s my first Zuko piece, but if you’re not happy with it, feel free to send another request. I hope you like it!

Wordcount: 1724

Summary: Reader is forced to share a bed with Zuko. 

None of you had slept in two whole days. Usually, you would be able to go without sleep for much longer than that, but when you were on the back of Appa that whole time? No, nuh-uh, no could do. You had started feeling motion sick a whole day ago, so after another day, it was safe to say you weren’t in the best of moods.

Everyone was on edge, grumpy to say the least. But you were the worst, which had lead to avoiding talking to pretty much anyone. Zuko, however, didn’t seem bothered by the lack of sleep at all, only sitting quietly to himself in a corner of the saddle.

He was a calm grumpy, as opposed to the rageful grumpy you would’ve taken him for. But then again, a lot had changed, him included, and you didn’t doubt you would’ve been right about your assumptions sometime in the past.

But nonetheless, it annoyed you that he didn’t seem to be suffering as much as you were. So, naturally, you had spent the last four hours just glaring at him from your own corner, something you guessed hadn’t gone unnoticed as he had tensed up and glanced your way a few times.

You felt guilty. He had already been through so much, and there you were, giving him even more crap. But you couldn’t help it. His calm and quiet behavior infuriated you to no end.

Luckily, or well, luckily for you but unluckily for him, Aang was almost falling over in his seat, and you would, finally, be able to get some rest.

You managed to find a small village before nightfall, in which a lady was kind enough to lend out her second cabin. The problem with this arrangement? It only had four beds, and there were six of you.

You thought the solution was obvious. You were going to bunk with Katara like you usually did. Right?

Wrong.

Of course, of all times, she was on her monthly now, and therefor didn’t feel comfortable sharing a tiny cot with someone else. You knew what was going to happen then. Aang and Sokka were to share on bed, and Toph always slept alone, it might as well be a law set in stone, by now; she really liked her privacy.

That only left one person.

You wanted to be mad at Katara and Toph for not sacrificing themselves for your sake this one time, but you couldn’t, because you knew how both of them felt. Not even in the short-tempered state you were in you found yourself able to hold it against them.

You just had to suck it up. You didn’t know if it made you feel better or worse about the fact that Zuko didn’t seem bothered in the slightest as he went on to make the bed the second after he had been told you would be sharing.

After watching him struggle with the sheet for a few minutes, though, you decided that the only thing that matter in that moment was that you got to sleep. You didn’t have the energy to care about with whom, anymore.

“Here, let me.” You grumbled as you walked up to the small cot in the furthest corner, grabbing the bunched up sheet from Zuko’s hands, maybe a little rougher than you had intended.

But he didn’t say anything, only backing away a few small steps to allow you to make the bed.

You wasted no time in getting to work, letting the sheet fall onto the mattress and tucking it under the edges so that it wouldn’t bunch up when you slept. When finished with the sheets, you threw the pillows to the top lazily before spreading out the blanket; surprise, there was only one of those, too.

Toph was already snoring softly at the other side of the room, and Aang and Sokka were lying back to back on their cot, however, breathing to casually to be asleep yet. Katara was still up and walking and passed you just then, giving you an apologetic smile before blowing up the lantern and lying down in her own bed, the only thing lighting up the room now being the fire in the middle of the room.

Nothing was said as you and Zuko got situated on the bed, him closest to the wall and you to his right. You laid on your backs, your hands clasped on your stomach while his seemed to be glued to his side, the blanket placed stiffly on top of the two of you.

He was taking more space than he needed, and it didn’t take long until it started getting to you, making your chest crawl uncomfortably with annoyance. But you didn’t say anything, instead just rolling over to your side to fit better, turning your back to him.

Zuko spared you a glance as you moved beside him, before turning his head back up and closing his eyes to sleep. He stayed that way, on his back, for about half an hour, but sleep never came. He wasn’t sure if you were sleeping, but he didn’t want to risk asking in case you were.

So, without a word, he rolled around to his side as carefully as he found himself able to, bringing his hands up to rest under his head as his eyes fell closed.

You shifted at that, causing him to open his eyes just as quickly as he had closed them.

Looking over your shoulder, you raised an eyebrow. “What do you think your doing?”

Zuko didn’t miss a beat. “I can’t sleep on my back.” His expression didn’t change as he spoke, his eyes just falling closed again as if it was the most normal thing in the world that he had just turned around in the same direction as you.

You gave him a glare, despite the fact he couldn’t see you. “And you couldn’t turn the other way?”

“I don’t like sleeping while facing the wall, either.”

“Of course, you don’t.” You sighed, squeezing your eyes shut in thought briefly before finally letting out another, defeated sigh. “Fine, if we’re going to do this then we might as well do it properly.”

As you started shifting around, pulling the blanket left and right, Zuko’s eyes opened, an annoyed expression finally making its way onto his scarred face. “What?”

You ignored the slight trace of irritation that laced his smooth voice, continuing to shift backwards on the bed until your back hit his chest, only then placing the blanket back down on your body as you tried your best getting comfortable.

“What are you doing?” Zuko questioned in a strained voice, his hands going up in the air to avoid accidentally touching you as you were now pressed together.

“It’s cramped and I’m cold. I won’t be able to sleep if I’m constantly afraid of falling off the bed, and I’m already aggravated as it is. I need to sleep.” You deadpanned, reaching over your own body to grab ahold of his hands, successfully stunning him.

You noticed the way he flinched slightly at the feeling of your skin coming in contact with his, but nonetheless he let you guide his hands to rest on your waist. His whole body was tense now, his hands radiating such heat that your own body instantly warmed up.

Zuko was frozen, both afraid of hurting you and afraid of making a fool out of himself. It was nothing new that the banished prince harbored a crush on you. He was sure everyone but you knew about it. At least he hoped you didn’t know.

“Your hands are so warm.” Your voice pulled him back to reality then, breaking him out of his thoughts. His first instinct was to pull back his hands, knowing that he sometimes couldn’t control his body temperature. How could he when you were pressed up against him like you were?

You cursed yourself quietly as soon as the words had left your mouth, regretting it the second you felt him start to retrieve his hands. Your own hands shot out before you could stop yourself, reaching out for his to stop him in his movements.

“No.” You told him, slowly starting to pull his hands back. “I didn’t mean in a bad way. I said I’m cold, remember?”

Zuko relaxed behind your, finally starting to let himself get comfortable. A flutter of butterflies filled your chest at the feeling of him scooting closer, and you felt your eyes fall shut in contempt as your previously chilled body warmed up within seconds.

The two of you laid there for a good fifteen minutes, and you were sure Zuko had fallen asleep behind you by then, but for some reason, despite being the most exhausted one of all, sleep didn’t come to you.

You shifted slightly, raising your hands to your head and putting them under your face to rest on, all while keeping your eyes closed. Ten minutes passed, and you still hadn’t fallen asleep. Sighing, you shifted again, bringing one of your hands back down to rest between your knees.

You moved backwards slightly, pushing your hips back in order to get comfortable. Then suddenly, halting you in the middle of your actions, Zuko shifted behind you and wrapped his arms tightly around your body, holding you in place.

“Be. Still.”

You scoffed, a sour glare coming to rest on your face. “I am still.”

“Oh, yeah?” He challenged, his breath hitting your neck and sending shivers down your spine. Not that you would ever admit it. “Well, if you keep ‘being still’, we’re going to have a problem soon enough.”

You rolled your eyes. “Wha-“

You cut yourself short, eyes flickering open briefly as you realized what he meant, your whole face growing hot at the realization. You were lucky the room was already illuminated by a soft, orange light, or Zuko surely would’ve noticed the blush rising on your neck.

Clearing your throat, you stilled yourself, shifting your head where it laid on the pillow. “Sorry.” You apologized quietly.

Zuko only grumbled, but even though you were now still and comfortable, he kept his arms tightly wrapped around you in a warm embrace, and maybe that’s what made you able to finally fall asleep.

But no matter what it was, it was safe to say that Toph and Sokka didn’t let you live it down the morning after after finding you huddled together in the corner, limbs tangled together, Zuko’s face pressed into your neck and his arms wrapped securely around your waist. 

#zuko x reader #fire lord zuko #prince zuko #avatar zuko #avatar #avatar the last airbender #avatar: tla

[littledreamybeth]

Angel Daddy

A/N: I wrote this in the middle of the night so it might make not much sense :D Enjoy!

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, will probably cause heartbreak

Her alarm went off. It rang and rang and rang and rang. There seemed no end. She didn’t turn it off. She had no power to stretch out her arm and shut it off. Instead, she reluctantly opened her eyes, just watching the red numbers depicted on the small device situated on her nightstand. She waited patiently- waited until the shrill, annoying sound stopped echoing through her bedroom. But it did continue. It continued, and she felt like her ears were bleeding. Rage started boiling in her veins, and the longer it took, the more she had the urge to smash the clock down, watching it break into pieces. Just like she had let her heart shatter into pieces. Seeing the broken parts scattered on the ground would bring her the greatest satisfaction, but no matter how much she’d love to do it, she also did not want to go outside to buy another. Being surrounded by people was the last thing she currently craved for.

It had been a while since she had been under people. She couldn’t tell how long it had been, perhaps days, weeks, or even months- she didn’t know. She had lost track of time. Was it Monday or Tuesday? Thursday or Friday? Was it May? Or June already? She really didn’t know. The world outside her apartment went on while hers had stopped. People carried on with their lives, practiced their daily routines and worked hard like a maniac. Y/N couldn’t remember the last time she had been at work. She had completely isolated herself from civilization, hiding behind the walls of her home.

Home. She scoffed, tears pooling her eyes. Home isn’t what it used to be anymore. A tear had found its way down her cheeks, shortly after the next followed. Then another tear started running, and it went on and on until she became a crying mess, heavy sobs leaving her already sore throat. Y/N was used to crying- it had become a part of her new life. Her fingers dug deep into the cushion she had her head rested on, her face pushed into the soft material to muffle her sobs. The all-too well known pain appeared between her ribs, gnawing on her heart as if something was still there. Literally speaking, she was alive, however, it didn’t feel like it at all. She wondered how she could be if she was already dead inside.

She lifted up her head, then facing towards the empty side of the bed. There was a time where another body was resting on that now cold, abandoned spot. Somebody with strong muscular and tattooed arms holding her, protecting her while she was asleep. Somebody whose heart was wider than the entire universe, too precious for this world. That vital organ, whose owner had been Y/N, was too kind and too valuable. The day it stopped beating was the day Y/N had fallen into an abyss with no familiar arms to catch her. He wasn’t there to assure her that everything was fine. He was no longer there. Gone too soon.

Y/N missed his forest-green eyes and his dimples when he smiled. She missed his throaty laugh and his warm touch. Funny how things can change from one second to the other. One minute you’re the happiest woman on earth, and the minute after your happiness is taken away from you, giving you no chance to spend more time, to create new memories, to enjoy togetherness. Everything happened with the blink of an eye, and now she must mourn over the loss of the man she loved more than anything in this world. She would’ve given everything to feel his soft hands on her- to feel the rapid beating of his heart under her fingertips. Her ears were deprived from his voice- how much did she wish he would call out for her again. The only times she heard his voice was when she cried herself to sleep while listening to the songs he’d left behind.

Her family was worried sick about her. Even though they knew she was going to change and wasn’t going to be their funny, happy, cheerful and vibrant Y/N anymore, they did not expect her to change this drastically. She was basically a walking corpse with no vital force. Her once tanned skin was now pale. Her once bright, shining eyes were now dull and empty. She didn’t talk anymore. She hadn’t used her voice properly for months- only if she really had to. There was barely anyone around with whom she could lead a conversation anyway. She cut everyone out.

Each day, Y/N was taking steps further to depression.

Her parents offered her to visit a psychiatrist, even proposed to accompany her, but she declined. From her perspective, she wasn’t insane, but her family shared different opinions on that matter. They had had to watch their daughter whither away like a rose. Who could’ve known that she was going to change 360 degrees? A young woman, no longer willing to live, but still clinging on to life because she had someone who was dependent on her.

Her love had left a legacy behind- a little baby girl.

A small baby who currently had learned how to stand on her own legs. Her chubby legs- he would’ve loved to gently sink his teeth into the little one’s skin. She was almost one year old and very vocal, babbling things no one could identify. Her first word was ‘dada’, and Y/N couldn’t figure out where she could’ve picked this up from since there was no daddy around. It was probably her sister teaching her niece how to say it- she lived with them to support Y/N, helping her out to make life a bit more bearable.

Y/N did not keep in touch with her in-laws. She couldn’t face them because of how similar they looked to him. It was already hard enough to look at her daughter who was the replica of her father without the need to cry. His mother understood- a mourning mother who sometimes wanted to crawl into a hole and never appear again. But the woman, called Anne, stressed that she wanted to see her grandchild often as possible because the baby girl was the only thing left of her son. She couldn’t lose her. So, Y/N’s sister drove little angel back and forth.

Her attention was now glued onto the large picture hanging on the wall. It was him displayed on it, beaming a smile towards her direction.

If he was looking down at her from above, then he must be very disappointed in her. He would complain that Y/N was barely taking care of herself. He used to a lot in the past because her wellbeing was an important factor for him. He would’ve wanted her to stay strong- especially for the baby.

“I’m sorry,” She whispered, wishing that he would answer her. “I’m sorry for being such a failure, for not being strong enough. I can’t… I can’t without you.”

Another sob wrecked her body. “How can I drink or eat, knowing you can’t do it anymore? Tell me, how could I go outside and enjoy things while you’re stripped off that opportunity? You’re everywhere, Harry. In every place, every corner, there is a part of you… I cannot just go out and pretend to be strong as everyone expects when I’m so truly broken… I just can’t…”

She wiped the salty liquid with the sleeve of her pajama bottom. “Why you, Harry? Why does it have to be you?! Why do always good people die?! Why?!”

She couldn’t fathom what Harry did to be cruelly punished at such young age. He had been barely 30 years old when he passed away. One crash was enough to end his life immediately. He was dead on spot. It was a shock for all relatives, as well as for the entire world. Y/N tried to console herself that he at least did not suffer. No pain. Just eternal rest.

“I love you…I love you so much…” Y/N said, “I don’t know when I’ll see you again but please, wait for me…”

The young woman freed herself from the bedsheets and got up from bed. Her sister would be waking her soon anyway. Her head ached terribly from the amount of crying, so she strolled her way to the bathroom to take some medicine. When she passed the nursery, she suddenly stopped. Little squeaks could be heard from behind the door. Her baby daughter was laughing, and Y/N was wondering why. Baby girl should be normally asleep at this time. Curiosity eating her alive, she slowly pushed down the handle and slightly opened the door, taking a peek through the gap.

She furrowed her brows when she saw her angel sitting on her bed, clapping with her tiny hands while gazing at something in front of her. However, there was nothing that Y/N could see. She watched her daughter trying to get up, her fingers clasping the edge of her bed. She bounced on her chubby legs and laughed at whatever made her laugh. Then suddenly, baby girl stumbled backwards and fell down on her little bum, while rubbing her nose, as if someone had poked her. Y/N wanted to interfere, however, her heart skipped a beat when her daughter raised both of her arms to the air and squealed, “Dada, up.”

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfics #harry styles fic #harry styles fics #harry styles one shot #harry styles one shots #harry styles fluff imagines #harry styles angst imagines #harry styles blurb #harry styles blurbs #harry styles preference #harry styles preferences #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #one direction fanfiction #harry styles smut

[chierafied]

All According to Plan

Written for the SessKag Valentine’s Big Bang!

Partnered with my darling @jafndaegur​ without whom organising this event would have been so much more difficult.

Go check out her lovely companion piece for this fic here!

At first, Sesshoumaru had been furious. But by now, only weary resignation remained as he watched the hopeful demoness tilt her head to bare her throat to him.

Sesshoumaru pinched the bridge of his nose.

He wasn’t sure how much more he would be able to take, how many more demonesses he would be forced to shake off.

He needed it all to stop, but he knew only too well that his mother would never give in until she would get what she wished.

And to Sesshoumaru’s ire and consternation, his mother’s heart was set to see him mated.

Why his mother had been struck by such a fit of lunacy, Sesshoumaru did not know.

What he knew, however – without a shadow of a doubt – was that he was not even remotely inclined to go along with that nonsense. 

And he did not appreciate this parade of willing and eligible female youkai seeking him out.

He looked at this more recent candidate and swallowed his sigh.

“No,” he told her, in a voice that brooked no disagreements. “Leave, now.”

The demoness’ lips pinched, but she bowed her head and left.

Sesshoumaru watched her go, grateful that this one at least hadn’t presume to argue with him.

Some of the other youkai sent to him by his mother had not accepted his rejection as gracefully. 

Weariness overcame him. 

How many more candidates would there be?

How many more until his mother would wear him down?

Because it had happened before. 

In a battle of wills against his woefully obstinate mother, Sesshoumaru seldom emerged as the victor.

If he was to have any hope of winning against his mother, Sesshoumaru would need to find a way to fight back.

Reasoning would not work; he’d already paid his mother a visit and demanded she cease the ridiculous affair but it had been to no avail. 

He supposed he could start killing whatever candidates his mother presumed to send his way but they were innocent in all this, caught in the web of his mother’s latest scheme.

Besides, it would not be worthwhile; while such slaughter would undoubtedly send a message to his mother, it would require too much effort on his part. 

His mother likely would not be deterred in any case.

No, from what Sesshoumaru could guess, the only way to halt his mother’s efforts would be to…

He paused. Frowned.

The only way to force his mother to stop sending any more candidates his way would be to introduce a candidate of his own.

Though that would only be adding fuel to the fire of his mother’s madness.

Unless... 

A slow smile spread to Sesshoumaru’s lips.

Finally, he had a plan that would ensure his victory in this matter.

All he would need to do was to produce a candidate of his own – someone who would be so utterly inappropriate to take as his mate that his mother would refuse to consent to the match.

And he knew just the female to suit that role.

------------------------💙 ------------------------

It was a nice and perfectly normal – if unusually productive – morning for Kagome. 

She’d been able to get a lot of her regular chores down and had now decided to take on the task of doing some long-neglected mending.

And then Sesshoumaru came for a visit.

That in itself was unprecedented.

Of all the unexpected visitors she may have had, Kagome would’ve put Sesshoumaru on the top of the list as the least likely to show on her doorstep.

Although Kagome liked to think they got along fine these days, she couldn’t in good conscience call Sesshoumaru friendly.

But there he sat across from her, earnestly explaining his dilemma and his great solution to it while Kagome could only sit there and wonder if she might have unknowingly slipped into some alternate dimension where Sesshoumaru had lost his goddamn mind.

She put down the overcoat she’d been mending when he finally finished his spiel.

For a moment she struggled to gather first her thoughts, then to form any words as she frowned at him in growing disbelief.

“You want to bring me with you to meet your mother,” she said at last in a summary of Sesshoumaru’s speech. 

Because she couldn’t have possibly been hearing anything he’d told her in the past five minutes correctly.

“Correct,” Sesshoumaru replied. 

He was the picture of calm patience, with his hand resting on his knee and his face impassive while Kagome struggled with her listening comprehension.

“And pretend we’re in love with each other,” she said next, this time with a slight, shameful squeak.

“My mother would perceive infatuation an obstacle not easily overcome,” Sesshoumaru said.

His tone of voice was reasonable, the words themselves anything but.

A cold, sinking feeling weighed down Kagome’s stomach.

He couldn’t really be serious about all of this. He couldn’t.

“Sure,” she replied, making no effort to hide her dubiousness.

In a vain attempt to calm her badly frazzled nerves, Kagome tried to pick up her mending again but promptly stabbed her finger with the needle.

She hissed, and stuck the finger into her mouth before she spilled any blood on her overcoat.

From bad to worse, Kagome thought, sinking into a gloom as she sucked on her sore finger. 

Sesshoumaru, unfazed with her grim incredulity over the whole situation, carried on.

“If there is any way I might repay you for imposing on you with this request, please inform me of it.”

And that didn’t improve her mood the slightest.

“You’re already certain I’ll agree to this, aren’t you?” she muttered.

He deigned to rise one imperious eyebrow.

“It is not in your nature to refuse a request for your aid.”

Kagome sighed. “No, I guess it’s not.” Damn it. “But just so you know, I think this is a terrible idea.”

Sesshoumaru, of course, disagreed. Any sense he may have once possessed had clearly deserted him long ago, probably around the same time he had come up with this ridiculous plan.

“I do not mind that as long as it will work,” he told her.

And therein was Kagome’s biggest problem with this whole thing. 

For one last time, she tried to plead with the glimmer of sanity that might still be hiding somewhere deep, deep down Sesshoumaru’s labyrinthic mind. 

“I do feel for your… situation,” she said, trying to sound as earnest as she could. “I just don’t know if lying to your mother is the best way to resolve it.”

“That is because you have not met my mother,” Sesshoumaru deadpanned.

True enough. But that would soon be remedied, because it didn’t seem like Sesshoumaru would be swayed by something as inconsequential as reason.

“And you’re sure she wouldn’t want us to be together?” Kagome prompted, because in her opinion, this “grand plan” was full of holes the size of Toutousai’s cow.

“She does not think very highly of humans,” Sesshoumaru said.

What a surprise, Kagome thought wryly. 

Although it did take her aback that Sesshoumaru appeared less than happy about the fact.

“Besides,” he continued, “she would think that the fact you are a miko would make you wildly unsuitable.”

“Of course she would,” Kagome grumbled, this time unable to keep her comments to herself.

“You need not have any qualms,” Sesshoumaru said. “I will not behave dishonourably towards you. And I will only need you to follow my lead.”

He was trying, she could admit that. It was almost sweet. 

But she did have qualms, many of them, and would not be so easily reassured.

Sesshoumaru’s possible behaviour towards her was the least of her concerns; the entire plan was terrible.

Kagome was neither an accomplished actor nor liar, and she wasn’t so sure about how convincing Sesshoumaru could be either. Pretend they were in love? Would Sesshoumaru recognise love even if it bit him in the ass? 

Kagome tried to picture Sesshoumaru being loving.

She failed miserably.

Yeah, they were gonna be so screwed.

“I’m less worried about that,” she replied, “and more worried about everything that might go wrong.”

But Sesshoumaru was nothing but stubborn and enviably overconfident.

“Fret not,” he declared. “Everything will go according to plan.”

------------------------💙 ------------------------

Sesshoumaru landed on the stone steps of his mother’s floating castle with graceful ease. His hand steady at the miko’s back, he set down her warm and surprisingly light weight. She straightened herself, then offered him a wide smile. Her dark hair was tousled by the wind, her blue eyes were bright. 

Though it had not been the first time he had taken flight with her in tow, the miko had not shown any fear as he had presumed.

Quite on the contrary, she’d appeared to be exhilarated.

That would serve them well, Sesshoumaru thought. Perhaps his mother might mistake that sparkle in her eye for something else, of more romantic a making.

“Come,” Sesshoumaru told the miko, and started up the stairs.

There was a small part of him that wished to dawdle here a while longer, and that was precisely why it was best to go right away and get this sordid business dealt with. 

The miko fell into a step beside him and Sesshoumaru silently approved.

The fact that his mother would disapprove of the miko had not been the sole reason why Sesshoumaru had decided to approach her with his request; that fearlessness and strength of character would serve her well when facing against his Lady Mother.

The stairs ended all too soon. Ahead, on its dais, the giant throne loomed.

And there, his mother sat in her usual, regal manner.

No going back now.

Sesshoumaru reached for the miko’s hand, entwined his fingers with hers and pulled her along.

Her hand felt warm and small engulfed in his own. And at the same time, oddly reassuring.

He did not bow and scrape as he stopped before the throne.

He met his mother’s assessing gaze, his head high.

“Sesshoumaru. What an unexpected pleasure,” his mother spoke. Her golden eyes flicked to the miko, then back to Sesshoumaru.

“Mother,” he replied with a curt nod. “I have come to ask you to cease your meddling.”

“Oh?” One elegant eyebrow rose in a show of surprise. “And what meddling would that be, then?”

“This quest of yours to find me a suitable mate,” Sesshoumaru said, barely keeping himself from gritting his teeth. “You had best to abandon it.”

His mother tilted her head. Her attention was now fully focused on the miko.

“Because you have found someone you deem more suitable than any of the fine demonesses I have sent your way. I assume this human is your pick, then?”

To the miko’s credit, she calmly met his mother’s gaze. The only outward sign of her nervousness was in the way her fingers trembled in Sesshoumaru’s hold. 

“Yes. She is the one my heart has chosen.” 

His mother turned to regard him. “Your heart? My, that is truly unexpected. But perhaps I should not be so surprised; you are your father’s son after all.”

Sesshoumaru clenched his jaw as he stared down his mother.

His mother carelessly shrugged a shoulder, then with her clawed fingers beckoned for the miko to come closer.

“Come then, let me see you, little human.”

------------------------💙 ------------------------

Kagome was not sure what she had expected Sesshoumaru’s mother to be like, but she was awed by the demoness before her.

She was poised and elegant, but there was a glimmer in her eye, a twist to her lips she simultaneously found both intriguing and alarming. And the youki, coiled in the air around her, was staggering.

Kagome took a step forward, to do as she was bid, but then realised that Sesshoumaru still hadn’t let go of her hand.

She looked back to him.

His golden eyes boring to hers, he raised her hand to her lips, brushed a swift kiss across her knuckles before he released her hand.

She wasn’t sure if it was the look in his eyes or the unexpected gesture that had her heart trembling in her chest.

Heat fanned Kagome’s cheeks and she pulled back her hand, her nerves much more jittery than they had been just a moment ago.

She walked over to the throne quickly, all too aware of Sesshoumaru’s presence looming behind her.

Kagome stopped before the dais and bowed her head.

One thing was clear to her – this daiyoukai on the throne was every inch a lady.

Strong fingers tipped with deadly claws grabbed her chin in a firm grip and jolt of alarm shot through Kagome’s body. Her reiki flickered in response, coolly licking at the demoness’ fingers.

Behind her, she sensed the shift in Sesshoumaru’s youki. He felt tense, poised to attack.

The grip of her chin gentled and then Sesshoumaru’s mother tilted Kagome’s head and their eyes met

“Ahh, I see. She is a miko.”

Kagome stared back at her, silent but defiant.

“What an interesting choice you have made, my son,” the demoness said. “Compared to the human of your father’s choosing, this one lacks the beauty.”

Irritation flashed in Kagome’s eyes before she had a chance to rein in her temper.

The red lips of the demoness curved up immediately.

“But it would seem your pick has more spirit,” she pronounced, glancing at Sesshoumaru. “That is good, she shall need it.”

Kagome wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or an insult. 

She suspected that sort of confusion was a common experience when dealing with Sesshoumaru’s mother.  

“We do not need your approval,” Sesshoumaru said, his voice terse. “I am determined to go forth with the courting regardless of your opinions, mother.”

“I am sure you are, if your heart is involved,” the demoness replied.

She let go of Kagome’s chin.

Kagome breathed a little easier.

But the examination was only beginning.

“What is your name, little miko?”

“Kagome.”

“And have you accepted my son’s offer of courtship?”

“I have,” Kagome lied.

The demoness lips twisted and Kagome thought she was displeased of her answer.

A moment later, she realised the expression she’d just seen flit on Sesshoumaru’s mother’s face had been amusement.

Somehow, that terrified her more than the daiyoukai’s displeasure.

“And has your heart chosen my son, as his has you?” she asked.

Kagome swallowed, fighting an urge to squirm. She wondered if there was some meaning lurking behind the formal words she did not recognise, some significance youkai gave to the phrase.

Her heart hammered in her chest, silent of any choices to make.

Oddly enough, it was Sesshoumaru’s youki, wrapping around her shoulders like a warm cape that calmed her down, reassured her.

Her stomach still felt heavy with the weight of the deceit, but she managed to get the words out.

“It has, my lady.”

“Hmm,” was the demoness’ noncommittal reply.

They studied each other a moment longer in silence.

Then, the demoness leaned back on her throne.

“You may address me as Lady Kidoku,” she told Kagome.

Kagome bowed her head, unsure how to respond to that.

“You may step down now.”

Kagome quickly retreated back to Sesshoumaru’s side, feeling relieved.

She flashed him a victorious smile.

Unbelievable as it was, it looked like his hare-brained plan had worked.

But Sesshoumaru didn’t return the smile. His eyes had narrowed, and he was regarding his mother with suspicion.

His hand came to rest at the small Kagome’s back, but it didn’t feel like he was putting a show for his mother’s benefit. His fingers were pressing in, belying his agitation. 

Kagome set her hand on his arm, hoping the gesture would help reassure him, as his youki had her.

“Well,” Lady Kidoku said at last, regarding the both of them. “A miko is not what I would have chosen for you, my son. But in the matters of the heart, the only choice of significance is one of your own making. In the end, my dearest wish is not seeing you mated to a suitable demoness, Sesshoumaru, but your happiness. And so, though you said you would not need it, I give you my blessing to proceed with your courtship.”

Kagome gripped Sesshoumaru’s arm. Her head was whirling. Had this insane plan really worked so well that it had now completely backfired on them?

Sesshoumaru was bowing his head, and Kagome quickly followed his lead.

“Thank you,” Sesshoumaru said, the words stiff.

Then, he turned and pulled Kagome away with him.

 ------------------------💙 ------------------------

Safely back on the ground, on clearing at the edge of Inuyasha’s forest, Sesshoumaru brooded in silence while Kagome babbled, trying to settle her rattled nerves.

“Well, that didn’t go as expected,” she said. “But I guess it could have been worse.”

“Worse?” the word came out as a snarl, but used to Inuyasha’s foul temper Kagome didn’t as much as flinch. 

Even when Sesshoumaru whirled around, his glowing golden eyes trained at her.

“Pray tell me, miko, how that could have gone any worse than it did.”

Kagome blinked.

“She believed it, didn’t she? The lie? If she had found us out, it would have only added fuel to her fire. She would have kept sending you candidates, likely doubled her efforts.”

“Hnn.”

“But because she thinks we’re in love, she’s going to leave you alone now. So in the end, your plan worked.”

Kagome smiled.

Sesshoumaru glowered.

“The plan backfired splendidly,” he growled. “And you have met my mother now, Kagome. Do you truly believe she will leave me alone, now that she believes I have a worthy prospect?”

“I…” Kagome faltered. “...guess not,” she finished in a mutter, and bit her lip.

She understood the predicament they were in now, and why Sesshoumaru was so glum.

But Kagome wasn’t so easily defeated.

“Okay then, new plan,” she told him. “We play along for your mother’s benefit but the courtship will fail. I can be the bad guy, turning you down, so your mother can’t blame you.”

Sesshoumaru shook his head. “If the courtship would fail my mother would be sure to find fault with me. And then she would once again start trying to find me matches. No, that is not an option.”

Frustration building up, Kagome propped her hands on her hips and glared right back at Sesshoumaru.

“Well what do you suggest we do then? It’s not like we can just go and proceed with a courtship.”

Sesshoumaru didn’t reply. He was looking at her, his head slightly tilted and his gaze piercing. Assessing.

The bottom of Kagome’s stomach sank and her throat was suddenly all dry. Her hands fell from her hips, their strength gone.

“Sesshoumaru?” she said. “Please tell me it would be totally ridiculous to go ahead with the courtship.”

“It would not be a choice I would have considered making before,” he said at last. “I would have preferred not to take a mate at all. But if one is forced to choose between the only options available, he will take the most appealing course of action.”

Kagome swallowed.

Her heart was racing and she couldn’t really tell if that trembling in the pit of her stomach was from building dread or something else entirely.

“What are you talking about?” she asked, clinging to the fraying threads of calm.

Sesshoumaru stalked forward and somehow Kagome managed to stand her ground, even though her knees felt frightfully weak.

Sesshoumaru stopped in front of her. He reached forward and caught a strand of her dark hair, wound it around his finger.

“It would seem,” he spoke at last, “that this Sesshoumaru is going to court a miko.”

------------------------💙 ------------------------

Lady Kidoku propped the stem of her pipe against her smiling lips and inhaled the sweet smoke.

She had been glad to see her obstinate son taking some initiative at last, though it was laughable to think that he believed his little charade with the miko would have been able to fool her.

Lady Kidoku blew out smoke and chuckled. 

No, her oblivious son would not know love even if – or rather, Lady Kidoku suspected, when – it would sink its sharp teeth deep into his behind.

Even so, her son’s visit with the delightful little miko had left Lady Kidoku hopeful.

Knowing her son, it would probably still take quite a long while until she would see him happily mated. 

But pretending though they had been, Lady Kidoku had detected something real. 

In the way her son had been obviously protective of her and deeply offended when she’d remarked the miko’s beauty had not been on par with that of his father’s hime. In the way the miko had blushed at her son’s unexpected gallantry.

Lady Kidoku had seen it all; especially that spark. Small and tentative, perhaps, but unmistakably there. The start of something great, or so she hoped.

And she hoped, that by granting the two her blessing, she might have likewise given them the first nudge into the rest of their lives together. End.

#sesskag #sesskag valentine's big bang #sesskag fic #fake dating #chie writes #fic: sk

[whitewolfofwinterfell]

if prue had met paige how would they get along and what do you think would happen? and do you think they have any similarities? I would love your full meta on this

Honestly, anon, I’ve thought about this a lot over the years and I still struggle to imagine what would’ve happened if Prue and Paige had met and what their relationship would’ve been like. There are so many possibilities and factors to take into consideration. If you ask me on another day, you might even get a different response, but here are my thoughts on this topic.

If Piper had died instead of Prue in All Hell Breaks Loose and season 4 started in the exact same way, I think Prue would’ve reacted to Paige the same way as Piper did. Recently, I’ve become more and more aware of the ways that Piper was turned into Prue 2.0 from season 4 onwards and this is what demonstrates it most for me. Piper’s reaction to losing Prue and finding Paige is exactly how I’d imagine Prue’s would be. The only difference is that Prue would’ve been worse. As the eldest sister, Prue felt it was her solemn duty to protect her sisters. She shouldered the burden of responsibility and was devoted to keeping them safe. If either one of them had died on her watch, the damage it would’ve done to her would’ve been irreparable. Prue would not have been grief stricken,  she’d feel like she’d failed, that it was her fault and she would’ve been adamant that she was going to do something to bring Piper back, no matter the cost. If that failed, she’d turn her attention to revenge. All of this would’ve made it very difficult, if not impossible, for Prue to accept Paige or even remotely open herself up to the possibility of having another sister. Prue would be enraged - at the injustice of Piper’s death, at herself for failing Piper, at Leo for not being able to heal Piper, at the Elders for not doing more and at Penny and Patty for lying to her about Paige her entire life. Her emotions would be overwhelming and because of her stubbornness, it would most likely take her longer to push past that than it did for Piper. The one thing that would bring Prue around to Paige would be her being in danger. Knowing that The Source/Shax was after Paige would make Prue determined to stop him. That’d most likely result in a transference, whereby her anger and grief became an unhealthy obsession with hunting Shax down and killing him for revenge. I could really see Prue going completely rogue like Leo in season 6 with Gideon. She would stop at nothing to avenge Piper’s death.

Prue’s resistance to Paige wouldn’t be because of Paige, it would be because of herself - because of her grief and identity crisis as the eldest sister. But I think once she started to accept Piper’s death, she would’ve gone in the complete opposite direction and embraced Paige fiercely to overcompensate for the loss of Piper. This would involve her taking Paige under her wing, being overly protective, teaching her about the craft and acknowledging that Paige was an innocent. Paige would be Prue’s second chance in a sense - a chance to be the eldest sister again and to forge an eldest-youngest sibling relationship more positive than the one she had with Phoebe. Prue’s growth and foresight from her experiences with Phoebe would allow her to be more patient and understanding regarding Paige’s recklessness and impulsivity. It would also improve her relationship with Phoebe because she’d turn to Phoebe for advice and guidance, and to keep her grounded. Phoebe would fulfil that middle sister role perfectly. I think Paige’s inferiority complex with Prue in canon would’ve transformed into her viewing Prue as a role model if Prue had survived. Prue’s natural flair and dedication to witchcraft would’ve inspired Paige and allowed her to develop her skills and powers at an even faster and greater extent than she did in canon. There’d definitely be a power struggle between them, particularly in the early days, because both of them are stubborn and independent. In the original dynamic, Prue was used to having control and making decisions for the group, but Paige wasn’t the sort of person to sit back and take orders. Overall, I think the two of them would’ve butted heads a lot and had a very rocky start, but eventually it would evolve into a beautiful dynamic. Prue would’ve taken more time to guide Paige, not just as a witch but as a person. In season 4, Paige was a lost soul. She was an orphan without a family, she was working a job that she believed in but wasn’t satisfied with and she had a lot of ‘what ifs’ and ‘maybes’ going on. Prue would’ve helped her with this. Furthermore, their similar personalities and approaches would instil them with a mutual respect and understanding, whilst their strength and dedication to witchcraft would lead them to be a powerhouse duo.

Regarding their similarities, Prue and Paige’s main similarity was their perspective on magic. They saw their duties as witches as important and they were devoted to saving innocents. Prue and Paige considered being a witch a proper job as much as any other traditional job. They always went that step further in practising or perfecting their craft, and never wished away their powers or perceived magic as a burden. They were also both incredibly strong willed and operated on their gut instincts, which were nearly always right. They had a creative streak - Paige with painting and Prue with photography - and this is something that would bond them. Prue and Paige were also the two sisters out of the four that felt the least traditional. By which I mean they never seemed as concerned with motherhood or marriage as Piper and Phoebe did. They were more driven by their careers and being a witch (and/or whitelighter in Paige’s case). I’d also say that Prue and Paige were natural leaders. Their drive, determination and skill when it came to witchcraft meant they were full of ideas and actively thrived on their work as witches. Both also had the confidence, intelligence, power and empathy to take the lead. Obviously, this is the one similarity that would’ve caused tension between them as they grappled to be the leader. However, I think it would’ve led to growth for both of them. Prue would’ve learned to let go a little more and to trust Paige to take over, and Paige would’ve learned to respect that although she had ideas and drive, Prue was the more experienced and wiser sister.

Overall, Prue and Paige are a complex dynamic to analyse because it’s all based on guess work. The fact that I feel like I know both characters quite well does help to some extent, but not enough. However, I think if you look to Piper and Paige’s relationship you’ll see almost a carbon copy of what Prue and Paige’s relationship would’ve looked like. That’s really because the sister dynamics on Charmed aren’t shaped by the characters personalities as much as they are by the sister hierarchy. Allow me to explain.

There are two main sister groupings:

1. Prue, Piper and Phoebe 2. Piper, Phoebe and Paige

Within these two groupings there are always 3 sister pairings: eldest-middle, eldest-youngest, middle-youngest. Now let’s look at the pairings that fall under these headings and compare.

Eldest-middle

Prue and Piper

Piper and Phoebe

Both dynamics are characterised by mutual love and understanding. These two pairings get on very well - their relationships are loving, affectionate and are best friends as well as sisters. The eldest has a level of responsibility and burden that comes from being the eldest, that only the middle sister can fully appreciate and understand. The middle sister is fully allied with the eldest and supportive of what they do and how they do it. This leads the eldest sister to lean on the middle sister to be in her corner and to keep her grounded. For the eldest sister, the middle sister represents consistency - somebody who will always be there. The eldest sister feels protective about the middle sister whom they feel a deep bond to and at various points the eldest sister feels she has let down the middle sister in her duty to protect her (1. Prue lets Piper down in Coyote Piper and 2. Piper lets Phoebe down in Queen of the Underworld). Overall, the eldest-middle dynamic is a plain sailing dynamic of two best friends who are extremely close and rely upon each other.

Eldest-youngest

Prue and Phoebe

Piper and Paige

Both dynamics are characterised by an initial clash of personalities and power struggle. The eldest struggles with the youngest’s recklessness and lack of responsibility. The youngest finds the eldest judgemental, mean and too serious. As a result, the eldest sister chastises the youngest sister, pushing the youngest sister further away, making her want to rebel and go off on her own. Nonetheless, despite surface level disdain, the eldest sister is fiercely protective of the youngest and the youngest seeks the eldest’s approval and respects them immensely. Tensions prevail between the two; they disagree on how to approach situations and struggle to work together without clashing. However, over time, the eldest and youngest are able to push their differences aside, empathise, develop patience and appreciate the other sister for how she is different to herself.

Middle-youngest

Piper and Phoebe

Phoebe and Paige

Similar to the eldest-middle, this relationship is one between friends. However, it operates on the basis that the middle sister understands the youngest sister where the eldest one fails. The middle sister probably finds the youngest sister’s naivety irritating at times, but mostly they find it endearing and accept them for who they are. The middle sister strives to bridge the gap between the eldest and youngest, as a result the youngest relies on the middle sister as her greatest ally. If the youngest sister is in a tight spot, she will turn to the middle sister for non-judgemental support and advice.

So you see, the sister dynamics follow this same formula no matter who happens to be in the duo. The nuances of these sister relationships do differ, but the foundation of them is rooted in these outlines which were established by Constance M. Burge when she first created the show. Therefore, Prue and Paige would fall into the eldest-youngest and have a similar dynamic to Piper and Paige or Prue and Phoebe. Although I personally believe Piper and Paige is more reflective of the relationship Prue and Paige would’ve had, particularly in the beginning.

#answered #anonymous #charmed #prue x paige #my meta #charmed meta

[himetsuri]

Observer

[Takechi Yuusuke's story from the second novel. He’s the detective who appears in chapter 87, after Ageha and the others return from the future after rescuing #07 from Usui, questioning Ageha about his and Oboro’s disappearance.]

It was three years after the war, that is, one year later after Kabuto Kirisaki came to this land. Since it's pretty close to the equator, this land doesn't have winter. But it definitely had the war going on and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs issued a warning against travel there. One side was claiming for "Peace" and the other was claiming for "Freedom."

"You're Kirisaki Kabuto, aren't you?"

Kabuto, having finished work, was at his usual place at the counter of a worn-down bar named “Breakdown” by the locals, due to the large hole in the wall on the outskirts of the slums that allowed view of the main street. He was about to down his usual cup of sake, good for nothing but its low price, really, when that man called out to him. "Japanese?" That was the first thing to come to his mind. It had been three years since that battle–––and almost a year since Kirisaki Kabuto had come to this place. This country, which was close to the equator and had no winter, was currently caught in a crossfire between two sides: one side pushed for “peace,” while the other brandished support for “freedom.” As a result, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs had issued a travel advisory. Kirisaki Kabuto had come to this land to be a war photographer and had earned the nickname of “Miracle Man” for all the times he’d returned from dangerous battlefields without so much as a scratch, due to his ability of "Menace" that allowed him to sense death several seconds beforehand. In this bar that was in the city closest to the frontline, even Kabuto himself didn't speak Japanese much. "Uhh…who are you? And aren't you hot?" "I've regretted not changing into something more appropriate since I touched down at the airport…" This country was in the tropics, making the temperature and humidity far higher than in Japan. The black suit the man was wearing must've been like a torture device. “Figured as much…so, who are you? Someone from the government? The Ministry of Foreign Affairs…the embassy?" There wasn’t a soul who would come to this country unless it was work-related. And there wasn’t anything of value here whatsoever, unless you were someone from the government. "Yeah…temporarily working for the government…I'm with the police." "Haah? Again, really…I’m not a part of some worldwide crime ring or anything, alright?" "Be at ease…I haven't come to arrest you. I just have a few things I'd like to ask…quite frankly, this doesn't even have to do with my job." For a moment, a sudden self-mocking smile arose on the man's face. "Things you wanna ask…? Also, it seems you already know my name, so maybe you could find it in you to tell me yours…otherwise, it just seems like a regular old interrogation, y'know?“ "Haha…that is true. My name is Takechi Yuusuke, a detective from Aichi's Shirataki police station."

July 2008–––actor Mochizuki Oboro had somehow managed to vanish into thin air in broad daylight. Contrary to the mass media’s frenzied uproar, Takechi, who had been put in charge of the incident, kept his composure. Mochizuki Oboro had last been seen on surveillance camera in the airport's parking lot. With him was a fifteen year old boy, who had also gone missing–––Yoshina Ageha, who apparently was reasonably well-known around his neighborhood as a delinquent. Though it was mostly for getting into fights, not for theft or reckless rampages. Takechi merely assumed that the eccentric TV star had gotten into some “mischief” with his poorly-behaved friend and wound up kidnapped and locked away somewhere, or something along those lines. Yoshina Ageha returned home several days later, so he immediately went over to investigate. All he had to do was raise his voice, grab him by his lapels, and shout at him; he would get his answers, even to questions he hadn't asked, and there would be his neat and tidy case closed–––or so he thought. The boy named Yoshina Ageha was not, by any means, what one would call "normal." In Takechi's experience, anyone would start to grow weary after a ten-hour long interrogation, no matter how tough they acted or how much of a professional they were. But that boy simply yawned, as if this wasn’t even worth his time––– "Me and Amamiya eloped. We split up with Oboro at the airport, I dunno what he did after." –––and tried to end things off with such a blatant lie. He said this right to a full-fledged detective’s face, with eyes that practically ordered, “We’re gonna leave it at that, got it?" If this had been anyone else, he would’ve wasted no time in yelling at them, "Don't play dumb!" or "You're lying!" But he couldn't. Instead, he let the cigarette between his lips fall and let Ageha go back home. The reason behind this was truly quite simple. It was because "he had been afraid." He–––a full-fledged detective who knew both judo and kendo, who knew how to safely apprehend a target, and who had experience capturing culprits in possession of deadly weapons–––felt "he would be killed" by a fifteen year old boy. There were those who'd laugh at Takechi upon hearing that. But the feeling he had gotten from being before Yoshina Ageha was strong enough to silence those voices. This wasn’t comparable to the “kill or be killed” life that an average hoodlum or delinquent would speak of. Yoshina Ageha had an air that only one who'd truly survived a battlefield, one in which death was certain unless one killed first, possessed. And, if he so felt like it, he had the power to make killing Takechi mere child's play. Even if Takechi were to confront him with a readied handgun, he wouldn't be able to win. He truly believed that. Takechi had no idea if this was what one would call a detective's intuition or not. At this point, no thoughts about "Mochizuki Oboro's disappearance" were left in his head. His objective had now changed to ripping off this boy's mask.

"I started by thoroughly reexamining Yoshina Ageha and those connected to him…many interesting things came to light as a result…first was the fact that Asaga Hiryuu also went missing on that same day. Additionally, Asaga Hiryuu's friend, Mana Tatsuo, had also been missing for an extended period of time.” "Uwaa…you sure did your homework, huh…" "Hmph. A detective requires a sense of duty and a sense of justice; however, what he requires most, above all else…is an unyielding persistence." Takechi gave a snort and downed some cheap sake full of impurities. He wanted to wet his lips before spinning more of his tale.

There was definitely something more lurking behind all this––––– At the very least, it wasn't just some cut-and-dried case of high schoolers eloping and an intentional disappearance, as Yoshina Ageha had asserted. There was something deeper to it, he thought, but right when he was about press further with his investigation, he received abrupt orders to call off the whole thing. It hadn't been from a chief or prefectural manager. It had been from much farther up. But that wasn't nearly enough the extinguish the flame of Takechi's persistence. After receiving the orders to cease, he'd requested a paid vacation, something he’d been painstakingly building up and hadn't even taken for his daughter's birthday–––if he couldn’t continue this investigation officially, Takechi would do it himself. And so the investigation continued, slow and steady, until at last it led him to one key word that would become the crux of the matter. It was what Mochizuki Oboro had attempted to talk about on a live show before collapsing, unconscious, halfway through; what Tenjuin Elmore, who was currently sheltering Yoshina Ageha from the mass media's inflamed reach, had even gone so far as to place a monetary reward of five hundred million yen on for anyone who could pinpoint its truth. That word was "PSYREN"––– For the past several years, or at the bare minimum the past two years, a large number of those involved with it had gone missing. Semitani Kouji, Sugita Nozomi…the list went on. Far too many to attribute to mere coincidence. According to a worker who routinely visited Elmore's mansion, there was no longer any trace of Yoshina Ageha on the grounds. "Maybe he's been 'erased' once again–––" By now, Takechi had begun to feel a strange sense of kinship with this boy. Perhaps there was a reason he couldn't say anything to his parents or to the police, a reason such as he was being held hostage or something had been done to him. Among those who had passed away after involvement with PSYREN, there were many for whom the cause of death was still unknown.

"However, I've been forced to suspend my investigation here…" "Why's that? Vacation days run out?" "…Well, there's that. Though there's more to it." Here, Takechi took a quick turn from chatty to tight-lipped. “Now that I think of it…Kirisaki? It appears you also went missing for a year or so around the same time Yoshina Ageha did…where'd you go off to?" "Uh, well…funny story, that~…I kinda went away from Japan for a bit, see…" Takechi, seeing how Kabuto had started speaking vaguely, shot him a slightly pointed look before continuing on as if to say, "Well, whatever." "Then…you weren't directly involved in W.I.S.E's all-out acts of destruction in 2009…"

It was the first time in human history there'd been an organized string of destruction caused by those with supernatural powers. Just one of them wielded power equivalent to that of an entire army; when tried-and-true strategies and maneuvers failed, the military resorted to human wave attacks and unbridled assaults–––to attempting retaliation with brute force and sheer numbers. It was a showdown between no more than ten Psychicers with tremendous powers and a military of over ten million lacking in strength. Strangely enough, it depicted the current state of the world where antagonism ran rampant between those with power and those without. As a result, it was the military, and not W.I.S.E, who caused more damage during urban warfare and a proportionate amount of human injuries and casualties. But that wasn’t the end of it. There were those with abnormal powers among the humans––– Those who saw those supernatural abilities with their own eyes grew incredibly agitated and fell into a panic. What if their own neighbor was a monster? The ones enslaved to their fear and paranoia began carrying out what could be called modern-day witch hunts. You could have different colored hair, eyes, or skin. You could be aggressive by nature, you could try to avoid interactions with others as much as possible–––if there was anything at all that set you apart from “those who were normal,” you would be labeled as “abnormal,” condemned, and sentenced to trial by the masses. Any attempts to deny being one with power would invite demands for the “devil’s proof”–––“Well then, show us proof that we’re wrong!”–––and incite many acts of violence without any opportunities to put in any words otherwise. This tendency was especially strong in urban areas, where mobs formed and houses were burned down. ‘This world is teeming with piles of refuse that feign sainthood. It is a world brimming with prejudice towards those who are different.’ The words of W.I.S.E's leader, Amagi Miroku, had proven to be true in the most ironic form.

For the sake of maintaining peace, the police were forced to work overtime for far more than 24 hours; miraculously enough, Takechi was assigned to Tenjuin Elmore’s mansion, the very same place he’d been looking into himself. It would’ve been out of his jurisdiction under normal circumstances, but apparently it was impossible to assign anyone from the local police in Shizuoka due to a fear of leaking information. Takechi was not informed of how dangerous those inside the mansion actually were. However, every so often it would be children, not much older than his own daughter, who would come peek over the wall. They had been called from out of jurisdiction to create such a tight watch, set up some of the military’s fully automatic rocket launchers a few kilometers in front, all due to these children. If anything happened, they were to bring an end to both the humans they were keeping watch over and the mansion. “Must seem laughable…a bunch of full-grown adults, quivering in their boots because of an old woman and her five kids…kukuku.” It was around midnight, several days into the watch, when a strange man tasked with monitoring the mansion grounds called out to Takechi. The police, as mentioned previously, were assigned to the outside of the mansion; there was a separate group of men assigned to the inside. Takechi had no clue who they were. He wasn’t permitted to try and find out. The one assumed to be directing them, a man with an eyepatch and an almost reptilian–––snake-like air to him, continued by asking, “Do you, perhaps, have a light?” “My apologies. My subordinates are all non-smokers…” “Well, I know you yourself are quite the smoker…” Takechi’s first impression of the man: truly disconcerting. “Oh, you just had that smell about you…my nose is quite sharp, you see. …Fufu, please don’t think so poorly of me.” The man had the most unsettling smile creep its way onto his face as he spoke, with eyes that seemed to see deep into one’s innermost thoughts. “Are you…aware of who exactly it is…that resides within this mansion?” “Tenjuin Elmore…right? She’s a famous fortune-teller, I believe, who also has some connections in both politics and business…” “You sure are well-informed…but, you are only partially correct. Elmore is hardly a simple ‘fortune-teller.’ She’s one who possesses supernatural powers…a Psychicer.” “Wh…!?” Psychicer…that was what those living in this country, after seeing the destruction brought about by W.I.S.E with their very own eyes, had labeled the ones carrying out such evil deeds. “Ah, now don’t get the wrong idea. Elmore is not a part of W.I.S.E. That old woman holds the power of ‘future vision,’ and she knew these current events would, someday, happen. As such, it appears she had set out on gathering children yet untainted by Amagi Miroku’s poison in order to form a resistance…quite honestly, they are Psychicers who fight on the side of you humans.” The way he said this gave off the subtle implication that he did not count himself on the “side of humans.” “Then…why are they…why are those children being treated like this!? Are they not our allies?” Takechi’s words only made the man more amused, and he laughed mockingly. “Why? Why, you ask, Takechi-kun? Surely you must understand… Those without power fear those with it…that is a simple fact of life. Say there is a lion before you, able to tear a human to pieces, its mouth open wide and fangs bared. Even should you know ‘it will not bite me, ever,’ you would not offer your neck to it…the same applies here.” “…So the government doesn’t believe them…doesn’t trust them?” And, most likely, truly wanted to just “put an end” to them already. Elmore’s connections made that impossible, but above all was probably a more twisted logic holding them back: should worst come to worst, they would still have one means of retaliation to utilize against W.I.S.E. “Is it not foolish, Takechi-kun…so foolish, in fact, it becomes laughable…though, if I do say myself, that old woman is quite laughable in her own right, knowing this would happen yet struggling to change it all the same…” After saying so much, the cigarette held between the man’s fingertips was more than half gone. “Everything has been preordained…it is impossible to change. Everything…is proceeding according to PSYREN’s wishes…” “–––!?” “PSYREN.” The word that had been avoiding Takechi for half a year now fell suddenly from this man’s mouth. He started and looked up, but the man had already tossed his cigarette to the ground, crushed it beneath his heel, and was walking off towards the mansion courtyard where Takechi and the other members of the police force were prohibited from entering. “Wait! Just who in the world are–––!?” “Takechi-kun? You are a very splendid officer…should you survive the coming several years, pay a visit to Shimabara…it’s a wonderful place…a very, very wonderful place, beaming with sunlight.” Leaving those words behind, the man departed without ever turning back to Takechi again.

“I don’t give a damn about that man’s identity. What matters is that PSYREN was even somehow involved with all that devastation W.I.S.E caused!” Takechi, thoroughly worked up, slammed his fist down onto the counter with a thud. The glass resting there nearly toppled over as a result, which caused Kabuto to scramble to keep it upright. When the other customers took notice, he shot them a stiff smile and explained, in local tongue, “Sorry for the ruckus. Nothing’s wrong, so don’t worry.” “After that…October 2009. Amagi Miroku and the rest of W.I.S.E had perished after a fierce onslaught by the military, they declared…peace had finally returned to us…and then, as if on cue, Yoshina Ageha also made his return. Along with Mochizuki Oboro, Asaga Hiryuu…and you. Isn’t that right, Kirisaki?” “…” “But right as I was going to begin my investigation anew again, the unthinkable happened!” Takechi pulled out a stack of pure white paper from his suit’s inner pocket. It looked like regular copy paper, but there wasn’t a single sentence or character or anything at all on it. It was just a stack of white paper, held together by an ordinary clip on the lefthand side. Nothing more, nothing less. “What’s…that?” Kabuto was clearly confused, and Takechi answered him bitterly. “My investigation report. I wrote everything I uncovered about PSYREN in it.” “You wrote…but there’s nothing here…oh, it’s in invisible ink!” “No!”

It was about half a year since November of 2009, when the government had lifted the state of emergency–––Takechi had felt it was finally time to start up his investigation once more when something unbelievably strange occurred. Every single bit of data he had gathered up until that point had vanished. But it wasn’t that someone had deleted it. It extended even to the backups he’d created on other devices in order to stay on the safe side. It had all just vanished, like it never existed in the first place. And it went even further. Even the data he’d printed out on paper had turned back into blank sheets. The attached photos, too, had been whited out. At first he thought someone had done this to impede the investigation…and for a moment, that man he’d met at Elmore’s mansion rose up in his thoughts. But he quickly concluded that couldn’t have been the case. If someone truly wanted to obstruct his investigation, they would’ve just destroyed everything. There was no reason to instead go through such convoluted means. Additionally––– From what Takechi remembered, something strange happened among those involved with PSYREN. Those who had gone missing, or supposedly died, had slotted back into their normal lives. Neither they nor those close to them had any recollection of them disappearing, and there were no records of it occurring either. It was as if an entire portion of the world had been rewritten: that whole event had simply “never happened.” “What the hell is going on?” Takechi went so far as to wonder if he was losing it. But there was one piece of undeniable truth that tethered him. “Mochizuki Oboro’s disappearance” and his subsequent “interrogation of Yoshina Ageha” were both events that still verifiably happened, indisputably. Yoshina Ageha and the others had reappeared after October 2009. He’d wanted to go and ask them about the truth of the matter as soon as possible, but once again the upper management brought its foot down and forbade any and all involvement or contact with the matter. But Takechi couldn’t give up on his investigation. Though he was looking into “something that no longer existed”–––on a wild goose chase, one might say–––he persisted, going over his findings over and over again. In doing so, he found, from the day when Mochizuki Oboro had disappeared, security footage from a service area that featured Asaga Hiryuu and Amamiya Sakurako. And it was here that he discovered Kirisaki Kabuto, riding with them in the rental car.

~~~~~~ [Notes: *While the service area (or SA in Japan) Amamiya and co visit is probably nothing too extravagant, some of them can be far more than a simple ‘drive in, drive out’ area. The part where they go to this service area is actually depicted in the manga, in chapter 59.]

| Part 2 →

#Psyren #takechi yuusuke #kirisaki kabuto

[seanfalco]

(More Than Just) Travel Partners - Part VI

Fandom: The Witcher Pairing: Jaskier x f!Reader Word Count: 3.7k Rating: M Warning(s): Violence, Angst a/n:  This is it, we’ve made it to the last part!  Please let me know if you enjoyed it.  I’m excited to begin writing a few one shots I’ve had in mind and requests are also open!

[ Masterlist ]

——

“Hey there, can I get you something?”

“Ah yes please, I’d like two pints,” Jaskier replied, leaning against the bar, not really paying much attention to the serving girl across from him, his mind still on the woman upstairs.  The woman he was absolutely head-over-heels in love with and whom we still couldn’t seem to bring himself to tell.

“Your playing was wonderful earlier,” the barmaid exclaimed, giggling as she leaned over the bar, deliberately showing off her… assets.

“Oh, well, thank you, truly,” Jaskier replied haltingly, barely noticing the woman’s glorious set of tits, his mind still half on [Y/N] and the other half on how he should go about telling her how he felt about her.  “I’m gunna be in that booth over there, if you just wanna bring my drinks over,” he said absentmindedly, pushing away from the bar to take a seat near the back as he waited for [Y/N] to join him.

As the serving girl came over with the drinks in hand everything happened so fast and Jaskier’s head spun as he was pushed back into the padded bench, the woman effectively trapping him with her body, her face nearly inches away from his.

“Whoa!” He exclaimed, completely at a loss for words as he threw his hands up and shrank back from her as far as he could.  “I-I-I think there’s been a bit of a mix up in communication here,” he spluttered, torn between wanting to push her off and not wanting to make a scene.  “All I wanted was the drinks!”

“Aw c’mon,” she purred, her lips brushing the shell of his ear maddeningly, “I saw the hunger in your eyes earlier.”

“Hunger?” Jaskier yelped,swallowing thickly as she tugged at his doublet, practically crawling in his lap.  “I think you may be mistaken, I’m certainly not hungry, at-at least not for, oh for fuck’s sake -- will you stop that?” he snapped, grabbing her arms to hold her still.  “While I’m sure you are no doubt a very lovely young woman, I am not interested and I would thank you to please - get - off - me!”

Of course it had been just his luck that [Y/N] had appeared right at that moment to find him in such an unfair and compromising position, none of which had been his fault.  

The broken look in her eyes as she’d gaped at him had frozen his blood and haunted him still; the accusation and pain in her voice nearly ripping him in two, and as he pushed Swift to the limit, barrelling through the forest after her it rang in his ears.

Even if she never wanted to see him again after tonight Jaskier couldn’t just let her get taken like that and not follow after.  What he’d said to her in the tavern was true, quite possibly one of the truest things he’d ever said, even if the timing had been abysmal and his face still stung with her well deserved slap.  Julian Alfred Pankratz would rather die trying to rescue [Y/N] than give up and live to sing another day -- even if he had absolutely no idea how the fuck he was going to take on this René fellow, the likes of whom was nearly the same imposing size as Geralt.

Pushing that worrying thought from his mind, Jaskier raced onward, hoping the path he was following was still the right one and he hadn’t lost her completely.

——

There was a pounding in your skull and it was getting worse.

Everything was muffled, as if you were hearing sounds from underwater, but with each pounding of your head it became clearer, sharper, more painful.  Stirring, your muscles screamed in protest and you realized you were hanging across the back of a horse, your head dangling and your arms bound behind your back.

A wave of nausea overtook you as your memories began to clear and you retched over the side of the horse.  At this René noticed you were conscious and slowed the horse to a canter.

“You’re awake,” he said, moving your hair from your face to look at you.  “Are you going to cooperate now, or keep fighting?”

You stayed silent for a long moment, weighing your options.  One, you could keep struggling, fight him all the way and possibly throw yourself from the back of the horse, but with your hands bound as they were there was no way you’d be able to land without serious injury and no way to get to your knives to defend yourself.  Two, you could play along, be good, possibly get him to lower his guard and then strike or slip away.  Maybe if you could get him to stop for a bit and untie you…

It would take a lot of convincing but in the time you’ve been on your own you’ve learned a great deal and become pretty adept at acting a part.

“Can we stop for a second?” you asked, not having to try very hard to sound like you were going to be sick again.  “I-I’ll cooperate,” you said, voice trembling -- also not hard to feign.  “I don’t feel so well, please?”

Your plea seemed to work and René slowed the horse further to a walk, turning off the hard packed dirt road and into the forest.  Stopping at a small clearing just out of sight from the main road René climbed down and pulled you down as well, though he didn’t loosen his bruising grip on your upper arm.

With his free hand he pulled a small waterskin from his horse’s saddle and unstoppered it, bringing it to your lips and helping you to drink.  “There, better?” he asked gruffly, taking a swig himself.  

“Yes,” you answered, your stomach twisting at how readily your subconscious wanted to fall back into your old cycle -- wanting to trust him when he deigned to be kind, no matter that he had just assaulted and kidnapped you against your will.

“Sit down there,” he grunted and you obeyed, carefully lowering yourself to the log he’d gestured to, watching, waiting for a moment you could use to your advantage.  Wincing, he crouched down and you noticed the cold circle of stones filled with ashes on the ground where a fire had once been.  While you wondered how René had known this was here he started a small fire before rummaging in his saddle bags.

As he sat down once more you saw he had bandages and salves in his hands and you suddenly remembered that one of your daggers had found its mark.  Shucking off his bloody shirt with another wince you studied the wound in his shoulder.

Good, you thought, that will slow him down some and potentially make escaping easier.

He noticed your eyes on him and scowled.  “I should punish you for that.”

Lifting your chin defiantly you merely stared at him coldly, despite the fear that twisted your insides.

“You’ve grown insolent,” he muttered, grunting as he cleaned the wound.  “What happened to your respect?”

“Respect?” you scoffed, unable to stop yourself.  “What I had for you back then wasn’t respect, it was fear and I’m not afraid of you anymore.”  You hoped he couldn’t hear the lie in your voice.

René stopped and slowly turned his face to you, the firelight glinting off his hard eyes.  “Maybe you should be.  You have a lot to answer for [Y/N]: running off in the middle of the night, stealing from me, spreading lies about me… and now adultery?”

Biting the inside of your cheek you made yourself hold his gaze, but didn’t answer.  He snorted derisively, resuming his bandaging.  “Months spent on the road with that foppish bard, don’t tell me you didn’t sleep with him.  I’m not a fool.  Did he know you were a married woman or did he just not care?”  He paused for a moment, studying you, and you kept quiet, though your anger was swiftly coming to a boil inside you.  

“I could have easily killed him back at the tavern, for touching what’s mine.”

“I’m not your property,” you spat, interrupting him, but René didn’t rise to the goad, instead continuing where he’d left off.

“If you truly cared for Jaskier,” he said his name with scorn, his lips twisting, “then you should be throwing yourself at my feet and thanking me for sparing his worthless life.  In fact, you carried out what I had set into motion more perfectly than I could have ever imagined.”

“What?” you asked; the word a whisper.

“Perhaps killing him would’ve been the kinder option, but let’s just say this one was worth it.”  René finished tying the bandages around his shoulder and spread his hands, smirking at the dumbfounded look on your face.

Finally it sank in and you couldn’t believe you hadn’t put the pieces together earlier -- the cloaked man in the tavern slipping a coin to the barmaid but leaving before she even brought him a drink; the stiff way Jaskier had been shrinking away from the woman, not holding her, his face aghast; and the most important: Jaskier telling you it had been a misunderstanding.  And you’d refused to even listen to him.  It felt as though a block of ice had dropped into your stomach.

“You paid that woman to seduce Jaskier,” you whispered.  “It didn’t work though, h-he resisted her,” you reminded yourself, grasping at the thought like a man drowning.

René’s head popped out of the top of the fresh shirt he’d pulled over his head and he shook his shaggy dark curls out of his eyes.  “Yes, but darling you made certain he wouldn’t follow us.”

You swallowed, bile rising to your throat at the memory of the sting of your palm across Jaskier’s face.

Oh Gods, he was right.

“I wouldn’t be so certain of that.”  

You heard Jaskier’s voice before you saw him and as he stepped dramatically out of the darkness into the ring of flickering firelight, nonchalantly twirling one of your daggers between his fingers your heart swelled.

At his sudden appearance René jumped to his feet, reaching for the short sword at his hip and worry washed over you as he pulled it free from its scabbard, pointing it at Jaskier -- his tiny throwing knives no match for the longer blade.

“[Y/N] are you okay?  He didn’t hurt you did he?”  Jaskier called instead, glancing at you as if René wasn’t even there.

“For the most part,” you answered, once more struggling in your bonds.  “A little more worried about you at the moment.”

Wetting his lips Jaskier shifted his gaze, eyeing the sword pointed at him warily.  “Don’t worry love, I know what I’m doing,” he quipped, even managing a cocky wink despite the way his adam’s apple bobbed nervously.

“I hate to question you, but do you?” you asked, your muscles beginning to burn once more as you continued to strain them.

“You should have stayed away bard,” René spat, beginning to slowly circle the fire, coming to stand in front of you, and Jaskier circled the opposite way, staying across from him.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t come for [Y/N]?” Jaskier asked and your heart leapt.  

This is not the time for romantics, you reminded yourself firmly.

Blinking, you nearly missed Jaskier’s first dagger flying toward René, a second one already in hand.  René dodged the first and the blade landed harmlessly somewhere near you.  Eyes wide, you searched the underbrush for the dagger’s telltale metallic glint, glancing back up to the two men in front of you.

Jaskier had thrown the second knife, but you’d missed whether it had found its mark or not, and you wondered worriedly how many daggers he had left on him.  Gasping as René lunged forward without warning, sword flashing, you cried out, fear strangling you as the blade came away red.  Jaskier stumbled back, managing to keep upright, but in the firelight you could see his blue eyes flash -- a mixture of fear and rage.

“Did you fuck my wife, bard?” René called, slashing  again as he advanced.

Tearing your eyes from the scene you frantically resumed your search for the missing dagger.

“Oh, a good many times!” Jaskier boasted, jumping back, narrowly avoiding the sword tip as it whistled past his chest.  “I hate to break it to you, but I think I’m a better lover than you in all aspects.”

Growling like an enraged animal, René lunged again, but Jaskier was quicker and he spun away, slashing at skin as he ducked under the sword.  Staggering back René howled in pain, grasping at his side, his hand coming away wet with dark blood.

Suddenly your eyes caught sight of the tiny blade half hidden in the sparse grass and you threw yourself at it, gripping it awkwardly in your half numb hands.  Frantically you began to saw at the rope binding your wrists behind you; hissing through clenched teeth as you cut yourself in your haste, but you didn’t stop.  

Jaskier managed to cut René again, an incredulous laugh bursting from his lips.  “You know [Y/N]’s told me about you,” he said, hate lacing his usually gentle voice.  “It’s no wonder she ran, from a monster like you.  You deserve to die an incredibly humiliating and painful death for what you’ve done to her.”  

Snarling, René leapt at Jaskier and though the bard’s last dagger managed to disarm him, cutting into his wrist, both men tumbled to the ground, René pinning Jaskier and his fist making contact with his face.

“Julian!” you cried desperately, your heart wrenching.  Sawing faster at the ropes and nearly dropping the knife as you cut yourself again; tears streaming down your cheeks as you watched the man you once loved rain blow after blow upon the man that held your heart now.

Managing to lift his arms in an attempt to block his face, Jaskier reached for the wound you’d made in René’s shoulder and dug his fingers in.  René howled like a feral animal, pulling Jaskier up by his lapels til they were nearly face to face.

“And do you think you’re going to be the one to give me that death?” he hissed, reaching for the sword.

The last of the rope fell away and you didn’t wait, pushing to your feet and scrambling toward the two men.  “No, I am,” you exclaimed, shoving the dagger in your hand into the side of René’s neck without hesitation.  The sword fell from his hand as a wet gurgle burst from his lips and his eyes rolled, going wide as he gaped at you, his hand clutching the hilt of the dagger sticking out of his neck.  His lips parted, eyes fixed on you, but before he could try to speak Jaskier grasped the discarded sword and sheathed it in René’s chest, pushing him backward and scrambling out from under him as he fell.

Your eyes met Jaskier’s, and for a moment neither of you spoke, the only sounds filling the clearing were the heavy pants of your breaths and the crackle of the fire.  Still in shock at what you’d done you looked from René’s lifeless body to your bloody hands, not quite able to move.

The next thing you knew Jaskier was embracing you tightly and you sobbed into his chest, the numbness of your shock receding.  At that moment you wanted nothing more than to tell him how sorry you were that he’d gotten tangled up in all this, that you should have listened to him, but most of all you wanted to tell him how much you loved him.  

Before you could say any of those things however, you felt Jaskier’s knees buckle and give way beneath him, pulling you down as well as you tried to hold him up.

“Jask!” you cried staggering under his weight.

“I-I’m fine [Y/N],” he slurred, trying to reassure you, but you could see that he was quite the opposite of fine.

“You’ve lost a lot of blood, we need to get you back to town o-or --” you felt tears welling in your eyes again, helplessness rolling over you.  Would he even make it back to town?  Pulling him up you looked around until you found where he’d left Swift, reins tied loosely to a tree branch, and that tiny bit of relief fueled you.

——

It had been nearly two days and Jaskier was still sleeping.  Shifting amongst the plush pillows in your chair next to the bed you rose and leaned over him, brushing a few stray strands of hair from his face.  Your fingers lingered, lightly tracing over the skin of his cheek as your gaze followed suit.  Nearly half his face was still covered with healing bruises, and several small cuts adorned his lips and brow from where René’s fists had made contact.

Fussing with the sheets that covered him, you checked his bandages once more, though you knew they wouldn’t need changed again until later that night.  Sighing, you leaned back and closed your eyes, saying a silent prayer to any of the Gods that would listen to watch over him.  After a moment you sat up and grabbed the book from the table next to you and flipped it open one handed, trying to focus on reading while you waited, your other hand gently stroking his hand.

A squeeze around your fingers made you pause and you tore your eyes from the page to look up at Jaskier’s face, your heart pounding painfully with hope.  Grinning softly up at your his blue eyes caught yours and he squeezed your hand harder.

“[Y/N], you’re here,” he murmured, attempting to push himself up; eyes widening as a grunt of pain crossed his lips and he instantly stopped, easing himself back while making a disgruntled face.  Instead he glanced around the room from where he lay, his brows furrowing slightly.  “Actually, where is here?” 

“A nearby farm.  I was lucky enough to find a healer and she patched you up,” you said, laughing softly, glad that even in this state he was still very much himself.

“How long have I been asleep?” he asked, clearly wanting to try sitting up again.

“Nearly two days.”

“Two days?” he yelped, disbelieving.  “I wasn’t injured that badly,” he scoffed.

“Jaskier, you passed out in my arms right after I got you on to the horse, and then you nearly fell off several times as I tried riding back to the village,” you explained, shooting him a level stare.  

“Yes well…” he trailed off, looking somewhat sheepish.  Suddenly he seemed to remember something and his eyes fixed on you with determination.  “Did we…?  I mean, we won, right?”

Swallowing heavily you nodded, not quite trusting your voice to answer.  You could still picture the blood covering your hands.  René hadn’t been the first person you’d ever killed, but he had been the first that you’d known.  Taking a deep breath, you spoke.  “He won’t be coming after me any longer.”  Jaskier squeezed your hand reassuringly and your lip trembled, his gaze soft.

“Jask, there’s something I need to tell you,” you whispered.  You knew it was illogical, especially after he put himself in grave danger to come after you, but there was still that lingering fear that even after saying what you were about to say he would reject you.

“I owe you an apology.”  Jaskier opened his mouth, but you steamrolled onward, afraid if you stopped you wouldn’t be able to start again.  “You tried to tell me what happened at the tavern, but I wouldn’t listen.  I’m such an idiot.  I slapped you in front of all those people,” your voice wavered.

“Hey hey, no, [Y/N],” he exclaimed, letting go of your hand in order to reach up and brush away the tears gathering in your eyes.  “I know exactly what it looked like --”

“Yes, but I should have given you a chance to explain.  I should have trusted you,” you insisted.

Jaskier quieted, recognizing that you needed to say this, his hand lingering at your cheek.

“I’ve never felt so safe or loved or right until I met you, and I kept up this wall, afraid to let you in, and then when I did, I was terrified I was going to lose it all, that you might turn out like him and so when I saw you like that, I just… I hid behind the wall again and ran.  I thought cutting my ties would be easier.”  Glancing up you found him watching you, a softness in his blue eyes that filled your heart.

“Jaskier… Julian, I-I love you.  I love you so much you steal away all my reason.”

An ecstatic smile slowly spread across his face and he reached for you with his other hand.  Smiling back tearily you obliged, climbing up onto the bed with him and letting him fold you into his arms.

“I know,” he stated simply, smiling against your skin.

“What?” you asked, turning your face to gape at him.

“I knew you didn’t mean it when you slapped me, that’s why I chased after you.  Well, I suppose part of me was afraid you did, mean it, but either way I wasn’t about to let that brute steal you away to do Gods knows what to.  Besides, I wanted to be the hero for once.”

A laugh burst from your lips.  “You certainly were the hero — my hero, more heroic even than Geral--” your exclamation was stifled abruptly as he pulled you in for a kiss; moving to pepper more kisses anywhere he could reach, murmured I love you’s between each before kissing your lips again deeply with a contented sigh.

A soft grunt from him reminded you to take it easy, he was still injured after all, and there would be more than enough time later for more physical apologies, so you contented yourself with settling in his arms and fitting your body next to his as he held you, running his fingers through your hair.

“I love you, Jaskier,” you murmured again, heart swelling as he echoed the words, squeezing you tighter.

“I love you, [Y/N].”  He shifted so he could see your face, the smile you loved so much gracing his handsome features.  Gods even mottled with bruises he was still handsome.  “We have to write a song about this.”

“Obviously,” you replied, brushing your nose against his affectionately.  “No one else would be better suited capturing our daring plight.”  

“Okay, good, because I already have some lyrics in mind.”

#the witcher #jaskier #jaskier x reader #jaskier x you #jaskier x oc #dandelion #julian alfred pankratz #the witcher fic #jaskier imagines #fic: traveling partners #my writing #the final chapterrrrr