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wandsandwheezes · 3 years

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Fake It | Weasley Twins | CH3

one // two

Warnings | 18+ SMUT, mature themes, fake relationships, secret relationships, love, sex, drama, angst, fluff.

Summary // Fred Weasley has been set up to publicly date Y/N, London’s best Quidditch Seeker in order to drum up some publicity. Y/N however has a different ginger man on her mind; George Weasley.

A/N // Just a quick one to say a massive thank you for the 800 of you have chosen to follow me and my work! I’m absolutely over the moon and once again I am filled with so many emotions that I don’t know how to process, so once again thank you, frim the bottom of my heart 💕

You were gasping for air, begging to have a moment to let out your sultry moans as the power of your orgasm washed over you. After a gentle shower together earlier, George pulled his old Gryffindor sweater on you, and it lit a fire inside him that was fuelling high, after high, after high, fucking his girl possessively into his sweater, until you were an absolute mess for him. Only when the garment had served its purpose did it come off again. These were the things George wished he could brag about to his mates, he wished he could quip back when they were talking about how good their sex life was, he wanted to be able to boast about his ability to make you cum over and over again for him. But a part of him was glad he could keep that a secret because he didn't want anyone else picturing your sweet little moans other than him.

The rise and fall of both of your chests as you lay in George's arms, naked skin pressed against each other. Your eyes were still glazed over, still blissed out as you traced small circles on his chest. His large hand rubbing up and down your back soothingly, as he mumbled soft words of praise as his lips pressed into your hair. "You did so good for me princess, Such a good girl for me, what can I get for you? Tea, water, a snack?"

You pulled him closer, leg still wrapped around his as you did. He was the one who was good to you, this was the intimate side of George that nobody else saw, It made you feel special, unlike you'd ever felt before. "Can we have tea, baby?" he hummed simply, moving to go make it, you whined wanting to pull him closer. "Take me with you." you pouted, making grabby hands at him, he rolled his eyes, still smiling at how needy you could be, as he went to pick you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around him as you sat attached to his hip.

"Cherry says I have to kiss Fred at the launch." you mumbled, as you heard him flick the kettle on. He sat you up on the counter as he looked at you with all seriousness. "You don't have to do anything you aren't ready to do." he stated it so quickly, turning around to grab some mugs from the cupboard and place them by the kettle. When he faced you again his hands were on your thighs, he caught your lips in a sweet kiss, hoping to brighten your spirits.

"She's your publicist, not a dictator. You're your own person, baby, You set the boundaries." He was so understanding, because he knew there was nothing he could do about the fake relationship between his brother and yourself. It was the one thing out of his control and he'd learned to let it go. He was resting his forehead against yours, just staring into your eyes lovingly, no words needed between the two of you as he waited for the water to boil. He made the tea for you both, carrying the cups upstairs, following behind you as he marvelled at how classic abs beautiful it was to see you walk up the stairs while naked.

Like usual, George woke up early for his shift at the store, today however he climbed back into bed, fully suited and booted for the day, to give you a kiss and a cuddle goodbye. You grumbled as he tried to pull away, "Please stay, Daddy, I need more kisses." he groaned, flipping you over so he could pin your shoulders to the bed, his hair hung in front of his eyes, blocking you from staring into his darkening eyes. "Baby girl, if I wasn't late I'd be ravishing you right now." your fingers pushed through his long hair, pushing it out of his face with a cheeky smile, keeping his head in your hands so you could pepper kisses over his face. "Just your fingers quickly, daddy, please" your hips were bucking up, hoping to catch some release. He contemplated it, one of his hands leaving your shoulder so that his fingertips could trail softly over your hip, ghosting millimetres over your clit, before plunging his first two fingers inside you slowly, using a scissoring motion to stretch you out as he felt the inside of your already dripping cunt, your hips were now bucking against his fingers, trying to chase a release, just as soon as he'd started he was pulling away completely from you, getting up off the bed, suckling his fingers into his mouth. "You taste amazing, I want that cunt dripping for me when I'm home, understand?" you nodded eagerly as pressed a kiss to your swollen lips before apparating to the shop with a fast pop, leaving his tired and needy girl splayed out on his bed.

After sneaking in a small nap, you awoke to get ready for your day, searching through your bag to find the day's outfit. As you squat down, you realise just how sore your thighs are, you were unsure if that was due to a piss poor stretch after last night's training or the last few evenings with George, you laughed to yourself as you pulled your fresh clothes on. You text George, after making the bed, smiling at the love he always showed you.

<< My thighs hurt today :(( x

>> I'll pick up some gel from the quidditch shop if you want x

>> on the condition that you let me massage it in later ;) x

<< you're a tease, Georgie, I'll be fine x

>> you're a stubborn git, I'll buy you some anyway x

You took the short walk from George's house to Diagon Alley, the slightly bitter wind ripped past your eyes, but the heat of the gleaming sun made it that little warmer. You text Fred to let him know you were on your way.

<< I'm not too far away, still up for Coffee? Meet me there x

As soon as you'd walked through the entrance at the leaky cauldron, reporters were on your toes, "What are your plans today, Miss L/N?" you smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Can we expect any more kisses from you and Fred?" You Ignored them all as you took the short walk straight towards the coffee shop.

Inside Fred's office, the man was just pulling on his coat when George stood in the doorway. "I have a preposition, Freddie." the older twin nodded, waving his hand to allow his brother in, George shutting the door behind him. "I've been thinking about what you said the other day about swapping and I think it would be cool, you know If you wanted to." George was awkwardly scratching behind his neck, eyes trailing to the floor. "I don't know George, I don't think you'd be able to handle the cameras and the couple thing," George huffed a little, "At least just let me give it a try, what about the product launch this weekend."

Fred squinted his eyes, thinking for a few moments, "I see what you're doing." he stated, George cocked his head to the side in confusion, stuffing his hands into his pockets, "You do?" Fred's chuckle filled the room, "I can read you like a book George, you want a taste of that relationship life, I get it, it sure is lonely with just your hand." The younger of the two was really biting his tongue to stop himself from spilling six years of secrets. His hands clenching a little in his pockets little, but Fred continued, "I'm off on my date, either way, I think If I butter her up correctly, It won't just be my hand I have to use tonight." Fred was still laughing as he left the office, leaving the door ajar as he swiftly made his way out of the shop.

George was seething, He didn't often have problems with his anger but today was an exception, He muttered to one of the workers that he would be found in his office for emergency only, slamming the door so loud behind him that the clap reverberated through the whole shop, sending the chatter into complete silence for the moment before the laughter erupted again.

Fred saw you outside the coffee shop, his hand pressed to your lower back as he pulled you into a hug. Cherry insisted that at least once a week there would be a public date that would allow for some publicity, you decided on the coffee shop more often than not because it was a simple way of of showing the press that you did indeed meet outside of press events and helped to give some form of validity to your fake relationship, he pressed a kiss to your temple as you both waited in line, something that was sure to be captured replayed over and over in at least one magazine or paper tomorrow.

While you and Fred were laughing over coffee and a shared piece of cake, George was replaying the conversation with Fred over and over in his head. He’d ripped up the order forms, the pieces of paper scattered all over the floor, but quite frankly he couldn’t give a fuck, even if the world right now was ending he’d still be focused on the words that spilt so easily from Fred’s lips. It made him sick to his stomach that his twin simply found you to be so easy that you’d give in with a little persuasion, sure if it was George doing the persuading it wouldn’t take more than a kiss and a look, but with anyone else surely you weren't ready to just sink to your knees and give it all up. George was tapping away furiously on his phone, letting you know exactly how he felt.

“So, how’s training going?” Fred asked, bringing the coffee mug up to his lips, He’d already scraped all of the cream off of the top and was ready to sip on the sweet caramel latte, Fred’s drink choices were a far cry from what George drank, the one time he’d tried a bit of your festive latte some years ago, he promised to never drink one again, sticking to his simple americanos and teas. Fred however, liked to sweeten up his drinks, especially as it drew into winter, you remember a little blush on his cheeks at the irony of the ginger boy asking for a gingerbread latte. You responded to his question with a small shake of your head and a exhaling laugh, “It’s tough, coach works us hard as always, It’s like Oliver and Hooch combined into one - no rest.” he laughs, shaking the image from his thought “I don’t want to think of anything that puts Wood and Hooch in the same person.” you began to laugh with him, your fingers circling over the rim of the coffee cup. Your phone began to buzz, the first one you ignored, but when they kept coming, you picked it up, looking at the messages.

>> I’m fucking fuming right now, Y/N

>> I wish you were here bouncing on my cock with the door wide open for all of the shop to hear

>> You better call your coach and tell her you won’t be going to practice because you’re not gonna be able to walk tomorrow.

>> you’re nothing but a good, pretty little slut for me, aren’t you?

You had to choke down the lump in your throat as you read the messages that were pouring in, getting more and more vulgar as they came. You had absolutely no idea quite what had gotten into George, but nevertheless it made you ache for him. Your stomach felt like it was doing somersaults as you read the latest one.

>> I’m gonna send you to heaven and back, princess.

>> Remember what I said this morning, I want you to keep that cunt soaked for me.

You put your phone face down onto the table, taking a deep breath. “Hello… Earth to Y/N?” your eyes snapped up to the man in front of you, seeing Fred waving his hand in front of your face with a laugh. “You okay, love?” You were blinking so slowly, internalising the messages George had sent you, a thousand images of his hands running all over your body, the sounds of harmonising breaths and the feel of open-mouthed kisses against intimate areas of skin. You were squeezing your thighs together out of habit and out of a need for some friction, your mouth had gone completely dry as you tried to croak out a response to Fred. “Oh, yeah, I’m okay Freddie.”

“What was sending your phone off like that?” he questioned, you weren't sure how to tell the curious boy in front of you that his twin brother was telling his girlfriend in detail how he wanted to absolutely rail her, instead opting for a more simple to explain response, “Oh, It’s just Cherry sending outfit ideas for the launch this weekend, you know how she gets…” he nodded in agreement, his hand reaching across the table to hold yours, It was a sweet gesture but something that felt too foreign to be comfortable. “Shall we head back? You offered, spooning the last piece of the cake into your mouth, Fred nodded.

When you entered the shop, it was too quiet for comfort, you smiled at one of the workers politely as you looked around for any sign of George. When you realised he was nowhere to be seen your eyes settled on Fred who was now shrugging off his jacket, he sighed, as he looked back at you, seeing you lost in your own thoughts once again. His long strides brought him to you quickly, his hands were placed on your shoulders as he stood in front of you. His grip wasn't like your lover's, it was icy and vice-like and for the second time today discomfort fell to the pit of your stomach, It was only when he tilted your chin up and was leaning in that you felt like the coffee and cake that you had eaten was coming back up. Your limbs were forcing you away from the situation as if your fight or flight had just kicked in and suddenly, any ease you once felt around Fred had diminished.

“Jesus, Y/N, what’s so repulsive about me that you can’t even kiss me!” He was speaking quietly, not wanting to cause a scene, his eyes were glazed over with a sadness you had only seen during the war, he took a deep breath before choking out. “You’re supposed to be my girlfriend.” His words hit you like a tonne of bricks, the whole situation felt like a car out of control and suddenly you were in the driver’s seat, there was absolutely nothing you could do to stop it, you were waiting for the inevitable crash and burn.

“But I’m not, am I Freddie?” the nickname you gave him suddenly felt like a dagger straight to the chest, or like a chokehold. He’d been winded, because he realised as he watched you storm out of the shop, that the relationship he had with her was simply a show and he was dumb enough to fall for the ruse. Fred was in love with you.

///TO BE CONTINUED/// chapter four >>>>

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#Fake It Fic #george weasley fic #george weasley #george weasley x reader #fred and george #fred weasley #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley x reader #weasley twins #harry potter #harry potter fic #harry potter writing #harry potter smut #george weasley smut #smut

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vechkinfan · 3 years

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Jack

A/n: I found this little one shot while I was looking through the deep dark depths of my google docs the other day and figured I might as well share it. Its a young Joker fic, and my fist time writing for the joker so please take it easy on me!😁

Pairing: Joker x OFC

Summary: A brief glimpse into the Jokers past, memories that he would rather keep buried, memories that reminded him of someone that held his heart. A heart that now burned for Gotham's reckoning.

Warnings: Talks of abuse, swearing, angst, vague talk of death

Jack found himself climbing the dirty, half rotten stairs of his apartment building. The light bulbs on every other floor, blown out or stolen, casting a darkness over him as he made his way up.

His mother had one of her 'friends' as she liked to call them, over. So he made himself scarce for the afternoon, like he always managed to. Jack weaseled his way out of the apartment when those creeps were over. Especially the ones who would come right in and give him those looks. Those perverted sideways eyes when his mother was too plastered to notice any different. Looks that sent a piercing shiver across his whole body, and an uneasiness to settle in his gut. He much preferred the men who would come over and pretended like he didn't exist.

The sun had long since started to sink in the sky as he climbed the stairs towards home and Jack knew he had to make it before the streetlights in the narrows started to flicker. The evil in his apartment was one thing, but the evils that lurched about once all the sunlight was extinguished in the sky was much more frightening.

Rounding the last flight of stairs, his eyes landed on a girl sitting at the top of them. Her back pressed against the door jam of the closest apartment door. One foot stretched out in front of her blocking his path and the other bent, shaking vigorously on the next step down.

She was sucking on a red popsicle, as her fingers drummed against the skin of her knee that poked free from a hole in her ratty jeans.

Jack knew she just moved in a few months back, but he never crossed paths with her before now. However every time he opened the door to let in one of his mothers 'friends', she would be sitting at the top of those stairs. Usually a pack of playing cards in her hands, flicking them one by one, aimlessly down to the next landing.

"What flavor is that?" Jack asked, curious at what her voice would sound like. He'd been intrigued by her presence the moment he saw her all those weeks ago.

Pulling the half melted popsicle from her mouth, the girl turned her head slightly to gaze towards him. Her dark brown hair in a curly mess that covered half of her face, but not enough for Jack to miss the darkness of her left eye. It almost appeared black, the deep brown of her iris engulfing her pupil, giving her a truly ominous appearance.

"Cherry." She answered, her voice nothing what he expected. It held a delicate raspiness, nowhere near the point where it matched Ms. Emerson two floors up who had been smoking 3 packs a day since the depression. There was a softness to it though, one that made Jack want to hear more from her. "You live in the apartment cross from me don't you?"

Nodding his head, Jack shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. "Sure do."

She sat in silence after that, and he stood a few stairs below quietly staring at her. His feet shuffling against the creaky old floor board, wondering if this would be the end of their talk. Perhaps it'd be the last time they spoke at all. Jack knew the Narrows had people shuffling around from place to place, like one of them scam shell games. She very well could be gone by morning.

"I can bring you one next time…. If you want?" Swinging her leg around, she sat so she was facing him. Both feet planted one step down as she licked the red sugary liquid that was starting to drip down the wooden popsicle stick and onto the top of her hand.

"I got two left in the freezer." Her voice was soft and held a nervousness that made fighting off a sly grin for Jack very difficult.

"Yeah, I'd like that." Hustling up the stairs, Jack found himself sitting down beside her.

His eyes getting a better glance at the girl, in the low light of the stairwell. Now he could tell she was using her hair to hide the right side of her face. Her right eye was an awful shade of purple, and the lid swollen so badly Jack knew she must be having a hard time seeing.

As he let his eyes pan across her face, he noticed her lip that was stained with cherry popsicle was also busted open. The girl next to him seemed to have come from a similar home as himself. It was near luck that Jack hadn't gotten his ass handed to him by one of his mother friends in a while. Talking back was a habit that he couldn't quit no matter how much he was beaten for it. Not to mention the fit of laughter that usually escaped his thin lips as a belt or a fist swung in his direction didn't help either.

"You got a name?" He asked, finally dragging his eyes back to meet her dark gaze.

"Billy."

Furrowing his brow and giving his head a subtle tilt, he wondered if she was fucking with him.

"That's a boy's name." He puffed out a small laugh. However the girl beside him didn't react at all.

"I know, you don't gotta remind me." She shrugged her shoulders, before finishing off the popsicle and throwing the wood stick down the stairs.

"It's your nickname right?" Jack couldn't quite stop himself with the questions. Usually he kept to himself and avoided people, but she… there was just something different about her. Something that drew Jack in like a moth to a flame.

He knew his interest was purely the result of her moving directly across the hall and appearing to be close to his age, if she had moved three flights up and was a little frilly girl, Jack was sure he wouldn't have even batted an eyelash in her direction as he carried on home.

Shaking her head and rolling her eye, she was the one to laugh now. "No, my momma lost her first baby, who was a boy when he was real little. She ain't been right in the head since." Jack watched as she picked at the frayed edge of the side pocket of her faded army green vest while she spoke. "So when she found out she was having me, she just knew I was a boy. The doctors told her different, but she didn't really care what they thought. So she named me Billy."

Shoving her hands into her vest pockets now, she quickly pulled out her deck of cards and began to shuffle them absentmindedly.

"Billy's not a bad name, I mean there was Billy the kid that robbed banks in the old west right? Like some badass cowboy outlaw… Maybe one day I could live up to that name." Jack's eyes watched as she expertly flipped the cards against themselves, the loud noise filling the hallway.

"Hate to break it to you, Billy the kid never robbed banks. He's just known for murdering people."

Peering up at him from the corner of her eye, her posture deflated, "Oh…." Billy sighed.

They sat there in silence after that, Jack feeling some form of regret telling her about Billy the kid. The girl had seemed thrilled in her blissful unawareness, so happy with only a shared name that connected the two. Which was utterly ridiculous, and in any other circumstance Jack would have enjoyed watching the girls dreams come crashing down from the clouds. However it was like a small light had been snuffed inside of her and Jack hated that he caused that. Which blew his mind, cause why would he care about some girl he just met and her no good thoughts. She'd be gone in a few weeks, out of his life for good! The narrows would swallow her up just like it did the other kids, and he really shouldn't have cared. But he did on some level, and it fucking bothered him.

"Billy where the fuck you at, you little piece of shit?" An angry voice screamed from just beyond the door she had been leaning against. The abruptness caused the girl to flinch and drop the stack of cards she was holding.

They fell like dominos down the stairs, fluttering off in all sorts of directions. Making a fucking mess.

Jack watched as she threw herself off the steps and down the stairs chasing after all the playing cards. "Fuck I'm gonna be in so much trouble." She muttered to herself as she frantically began the daunting task.

Without much thought, Jack did something that surprised himself again. He stood up and grabbed a few of the cards that had fallen towards the top of the stairs. Bunching them together in his hand, before looking down at the Ace of hearts that was face up. The corner dog-eared like a well read book, from constant use probably.

"I said where the fuck you at girl." A man ripped the door open to her apartment, and stumbled out. The stench of bad tequila filling the air almost immediately.

"I-im I'm sorry I…" Billy stuttered out as she crawled on the ground grabbing the last of the cards. Her hands trembled bad enough that Jack could tell from where he stood that she was terrified.

Eyeing the man cautiously, Jack saw him take a step closer to the edge of the stairs. His arm raised slightly, fingers twitching, ready to strike her hard when she finally made her way back to him.

"Sorry, I tripped into Billy while I was coming down the steps. Made her drop her cards." Jack lied with a laugh, and held up the few in his hands. "I was just helping her pick them up."

The drunken slob of a man, took a steadying breath, probably knowing he couldn't pummel a kid that wasn't his own. The man's overtly round face, covered in a patchy beard and a badly trimmed mustache that had the remnants of cheese puffs littered throughout it, gave Jack a nasty look. His lip turned up in pure disgust.

"Yeah well watch where you fucking walk next time." He flicked his hand at Jack, and then turned his attention to Billy. Who was now standing up straight at the bottom of the landing, cards in hand. "You, " He pointed at her with a chubby accusatory finger, "pick up your goddamn mess and get in the house, and don't make me fucking tell you again."

Jack watched as the man turned ungracefully on his heel and stumbled back from the pit in which he came. Slamming the door behind him with such power, some of the cracked plaster on the ceiling fell to the floor.

"You didn't have to lie."

"I know." He heard her take a few hesitant steps up, until she was standing side by side with himself. "I ain't in the mood to watch an ass kicking at the moment." He couldn't stop the tiny laugh that escaped him at his own humorless joke.

Tilting his head towards Billy, he finally held out the few cards that he managed to collect. She greedily took them back into her possession, and Jack watched as the girl seemed to be counting them to herself. Her fingers flipping past each number making sure they were all accounted for.

"Thank you." Her voice was softer than anything Jack had ever heard as she finished what she was doing and tucked the cards back into her vest pocket.

"He hit you a lot?" Jack asked aloud, as the girl pushed past him and towards her apartment door.

Shrugging her shoulders, Billy nodded her head. "Not as much as my real dad did, so I'm lucky enough. I know some kids got it worse than me, so I'm not complaining."

"Lucky?" He quirked a brow at her choice of words. Luck was nowhere to be seen in the Narrows, especially not in that girls apartment.

Perhaps the girl had been struck in the head so many times it actually made her dense. It wouldn't be a surprise to him if that was the case, because no one, and he meant no one, would ever call themselves lucky with the life she seemingly led.

"You got to believe in something, right?" She smirked. "Luck seems more plausible than some god or a superhero saving me. Plus I got this." Reaching back into her pocket the girl drew out a single card, and quickly flicked it over to him.

Jack caught it and huffed an amused laugh. His eyes falling upon the joker card that belonged to her deck. The jester was skillfully juggling three knives while he balanced with one foot on a large green and purple circus ball. The character itself was off putting, his face painted white, his lips smudged with red paint that made his maniacal grin even more pronounced. His jester hat constructed out of oddly colored rattlesnakes, multiple wrapped around one another to give its iconic shape. Their rattling tails hung as the bells at the tips. It was clearly far from the typical playing card one could get at the Bodega down the block.

"It's my lucky card, bad things don't happen as often when I have it on me."

Jack couldn't help but continue to stare at it. The wheels in his mind spun endlessly with hundreds of questions, but he knew he'd never have time to get them answered. She was on borrowed time as it was, and he didn't want to hold her up further. Cause if he did, the girl probably wouldn't be able to see at all next time he ran into her. The guy inside, smashing her other eye to the point it was swelled shut as well.

Looking up into her eyes, Jack attempted to hand it back. But Billy just shook her head at him.

"You keep it, it's the least I can do after you saved my ass. Maybe it will bring you some luck." She smiled at him before turning and opening her apartment door making her exit.

"If you give me this, won't your luck be gone?" His words stopped her in her tracks. But all Jack could focus on was her soft laughter.

Without turning to face him, she pulled another card free from her pocket, twisting it expertly between two fingers so the face of it was in Jack's direction. An inverted match to the very card that he held in his hands. "There's always two jokers."

Just as quick as she pulled it free, Billy shoved it back into her pocket, "See you around." She chuckled before disappearing into her apartment. Leaving Jack alone in the stairwell, staring quizzically at the place the girl once was. His lip twitching up in amusement, before he shook his head clear of their encounter.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

The joker cracked an eye open as he startled awake. It was a rare occurrence in recent years that his dreams would startle him out of sleep. That was only reserved for a specific time in his life, and that was not now anymore.

His half sleep blurred vision instantly focused on the ever growing water stain that was spreading across the ceiling tiles. It's dark brownish edges tainting the once white paint, giving the already run down room a greater sense of abandonment.

His hand stretched out wantingly, his long fingers gripping into the cool sheets of the spot next to him. The spot that had been vacant for many years now. An emptiness that slowly consumed him in absolute sorrow, and then engulfed him in a burning rage, no one could ever put out.

It was a pain that radiated through the Joker like a poison when his mind traveled to her. Pleading for him to remember, remember a time when things were pleasant. When she was by his side, and in his bed, places he could keep her safe.

But he couldn't, the day Gotham took her from him was the day its reckoning started. They would all pay, every last one of them.

#joker x ofc #joker #the joker #joker x reader #young joker #heath ledger #one shot #fanfiction #the dark knight #not good at this #wish me luuuuck #cards #card tricks

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vidalinav · 3 years

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Snippet (3)

Cassian stood in front of her apartment door, practically breathing on the surface. He was already tired, and he’d only walked up the stairs. Perhaps he was out of shape, but no... it was that the mere idea of this that made his body ache and his stomach turn uncomfortably.

He might have laid his forehead there, on the wood, if he was sure, it would not make a sound. Cassian did not want to make a sound. He wanted to be invisible, to float through the walls, to be in her presence without having to beg for it... but in truth, he would have settled for Nesta knowing he was already there. To her opening the door to her apartment as if he was welcome. Even if he was not.

He took a breath, eased himself out of his thoughts, before lifting his fist where it lied on the green peeling paint.

Just knock.

Cassian lowered his hand.

No, he couldn’t do this. Couldn’t make himself reveal what he already knew—that she would not open the door and even if she did, she would not be happy to see him. She’d slam the door on his face, and he’d run away with that confirmation and with a new bruise and a terrible ache in his chest.

Cassian walked away. He had to walk away, or he’d never recover...

He began walking down to the bottom of those five flights of stairs. A whole other world beyond them. One that didn’t seem to include her, or... recognize her or... want her to be a part of it. She didn’t want to be a part of it and Cassian ached at that too.

But a thought entered his mind...

What if she did want to be included? What if she wanted to experience it all and didn’t have the opportunity, the hand out held out for her, because she was too scared, and by the time she got the nerve, she’d be left behind? The world--this world--was safe. He would make sure she was safe, and she’d be able to explore and experience it all. What he felt, what he saw, what he breathed. She didn’t have to be scared.

Cassian didn’t have to be frightened.

And maybe...

Nesta could sense him there. Was perhaps waiting for him to knock, because she’d wanted this as much as him. Because she’d cared for him. He knew she did... or just because she wanted the company. He’d take that too. Anything she gave him.

The thought made him want to run back up there. Try once more. So, he did, his feet pounding on the steps until he stood in front of green. A color that made him nauseous. He tried to breath, to imagine fresh air and the wind on his face.

His hand was poised to knock...

Just knock.

But, no...

He should have brought food.

The last time Cassian had seen her, she was thin. Nesta had always been on the small side, but she’d been smaller and thinner lately. She could use some muffins... or... or... What was her favorite food?

Cassian didn’t know, but he’d ask Feyre or Elain, and come back with food and... tea. She liked tea; he knew. She’d always gotten peppermint at the townhouse. Always drank it when she was at the House of Wind.

Tea and food, he could do that. It was early now anyway, Nesta could be asleep for all he knew. She did always have late nights. He’d get food and tea, and when he came back Nesta would surely be awake.

Cassian lowered his hand. A mission on his mind as his feet pounded along the stairs with the smell of baked bread in his nose, the feel of hot tea on his palms...

Cassian paused, halting near the last step.

But what if he lost his nerve? What if she wasn’t even there when he came back? She could have something to do during the day, he didn’t know. He didn’t know anything about her. He didn’t even know what she liked to eat!

No, Cassian decided, he had to do it now.

So, he ran up the stairs once more. The clinking of metal and concrete and the sound of his steps filling his ears. He’d knock. He wouldn’t lose his nerve.

He was almost at the last step, and then he'd knock. He’d knock this time.

“Would you stop that racket?” A fae yelled from beneath the stairs. Cassian peered over the railing. A stout male carried a broom stick like brandishing a sword, and the male hunkered back at the sight of him.

Cassian couldn’t help the way he stepped along each foot as if the nervous movement might somehow make him seem smaller. He never liked being so tall... And the height of the stairs didn’t make him seem less intimidating. On a battlefield and in the bedroom, his physique had come in handy—advantageous even. To trapezing through the city and to Nesta’s tiny apartment building, his size had made him no friends.

“Oh, it’s you again.”

Cassian chose to ignore those words, didn’t let them hit him like a door to the face. Because he had been there, hadn’t he? Too many times. Too many pep-talks that went unrecognized for he could never find the nerve to knock—to be what she needed.

The fae male lowered the broom, sweeping casually, moving back and forth as if the interaction—Cassian being there—wasn't odd at all... or perhaps was too odd, and he couldn’t fathom not doing anything while the minutes passed by.

The male started to whistle. A tune that reminded Cassian of old days, though he couldn’t remember which. There’d been so many, too many that Cassian wanted to forget. The melody drifted past his ears until he could only hear shouts... screams... war tunes... and drums. There’d been too many who whistled that tune until they could whistle no more. Cassian couldn’t remember them all.

He could only think of one--who’s voice had quieted so much that he would have taken any shout, any cruel word to hear her again. To see her awake, alive, and fighting. Because she had stopped fighting, hadn’t she?

He watched as the male paused, looked at him, and began the sweet tune once more.

Cassian turned back to the door, raising his fist to the wood.

Just one knock.

“She’s not here, you know.”

Cassian knew that was a lie.

He felt her there. A string pulled taut and tight to where she lied in that room of hers. He wanted to grasp it, tug on it and see if she’d answer... Cassian couldn’t bring himself to wonder what he would have done if she’d ignored it, if she tore it apart like the rest of her.

And it was that thought that made him lower his fist...

He’d try again another day.

Same fic as yesterdays. Post ACOFAS, Pre-ACOSF. One day it will be done and titled. I love nervous wreck Cassian btw. Maybe I’ll keep him this way.

I have a list of people who are tagged, but do y’all want to be tagged on snippets??? I never know. I’m only tagging these people for now.

@arinbelle, @thewhelk, @ladynestaarcheron, @regolithheart

#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #vidalinav

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uglypastels · 4 years

Text

To the Beat // drummer!Tom 2/2

(a/n) and, as promised, here’s part 2! again big thanks to @duskholland and @captainpeggy40 <333 but a quick reminder, that i don’t often write smut, i don’t really know shit about writing smut so i actually had no business doing it... but i did it. so enjoy :) just, if its bad, don’t come for me

word count: 9117 words of filth tbh

warning: SMUT, i don’t even know what to specify. just.. 18+ okay but also, some fluff and humor cause i live by that

Please reblog if you liked it so more people can see it <3 and if you want to see more of this au, send an ask or dm <3

Read part 1 here <---> extra headcanons here

“It looks good on you,” he commented when you met at the door.

“Thanks,” there was the heat up your cheeks again. “And thank you for everything else, I had a really great night.” you were about to take the hat off to give it back, but he stopped you.

“It doesn’t have to end here, darling.” He said softly. For a second, it felt like your heart had stopped altogether. How you hoped he would say that, and then he did.

“What do you want to do?”

“I live a block away. We can- I don’t really know what we can do, to be honest.” He admitted, making both of you laugh.

“Your place sounds good,” and you stepped aside for him to lead the way. Tom opened the door but almost stopped when he saw it was raining. And it was raining hard. It had escalated from the moment you had looked out the window. Then you realised he didn’t have a jacket and was only wearing that tank top.

“I would offer you my jacket,” you said, “but I don’t think you would fit it… and I don’t have one.” You came to realise like the genius you were.

“I guess we’ll have to run for it, then.” He held out his hand. You didn’t even hesitate and grabbed it. Clutching on to the shirt and CD, you ran alongside Tom, across the street and then following it to the next right. It wasn’t really a run, but definitely a trot. The rain poured down on you, quickly soaking through all your clothes. By the time you had reached the door of his apartment building, your hair was sticking to your face, and you both looked like drenched cats. Tom grabbed his keys and unlocked the door as quickly as possible, letting you go first.

You leaned against the wall and let your breathing calm down. He did the same against the door. There was a second of silence before you started laughing. What was so funny? Neither of you knew. It just felt nice and like the right thing to do after running through the rain like idiots. Oh, so that’s what was so funny.

“Right, this way,” he pointed up the stairs. “I would suggest the elevator, but it hasn’t worked in like five years, I think.”

“Stairs are fine,” you said, already walking up.

“Wait until the fourth floor. Cause I’m not carrying you.” He joked, and you giggled, putting away the thought of him holding you in his arms and carrying you up the stairs into his home… and kissing you… throwing you onto the bed… FOCUS!

“Woah!” you almost missed a step, but luckily Tom caught you just in time.

“You okay there?”

“Yeah, just a bit slippery,” you tried to excuse your clumsiness, hoping that the fact that you were soaked from top to bottom would help. It did. Still laughing at you though, Tom helped you up and from then on you walked side by side. All the way up to the sixth floor. As exhausted as you were, you tried to play it off cool.

“Here we are.” He tapped on the door with his whole palm, and for a second you thought someone would open, but then he pulled out his keys again. A moment later you were walking into the flat. You couldn’t see much in the dark, but Tom quickly turned on the lights. It was a nice looking place—big living room with an attached kitchen. On one side there were two doors, which you assumed were his bedroom and bathroom. It was clean, but here and there some items were misplaced or left behind, making known that there was indeed a person living here.

On the wall closest to the entrance, you noticed pictures hanging. Most were of Tom and his friends and family. One stood out to you. It was an adorable little dog, smiling at the camera. When you looked over to the living room again, you noticed a red dog bed next to the couch with a bunch of squeaky toys.

“You have a dog?” you asked, already excited to see a puppy.

“Yeah, she’s called Tessa, but she’s staying with my parents and other brothers for the weekend since I would be out of the house for most of the time.”

“Ah yeah, that makes sense-” you had been looking around, not paying too much attention to Tom himself in all honesty. But then you had turned around and froze. There was Tom. Shirtless. He looked at you, slightly concerned and confused as to why you looked like that. You just had no idea what to respond with. There he was… six-pack and- and everything, in all its glory. His arms were still shining from the rain. Was this actually real?

You hadn’t noticed it before, but without the shirt, you saw how he had been wearing a necklace. A thin silver chain with some sort of charm on it that from a distance looked like a coin. He had been in the middle of fixing it when you turned around. So, there was that flexed arm to add to the things that broke your mind momentarily.

Tom stared at you, looked down at himself, then back at you. He was about to look behind himself, probably to check if there was something wrong, but then realised.

“Oh..OH. Shit.”

You were still speechless.

“See, I did not think this through. I was just gonna change my shirt.” He showed you the wet piece of cloth that was once his loose tank top. “Do you want something to wear? I don’t want you to catch a cold.” Now that you mentioned it, you were starting to shiver.

Your throat dry, you tried to mutter out, “uhh, yes. Thank you.” He nodded, walked past you and disappeared into the room you suspected to be the bedroom. He was gone for a bit, but when he came back, he was already changed. You had to hide your disappointment that he had put on a shirt, but the grey sweatpants made up for it in a way. Fuck.

“Here,” he handed you some clothes. “It’s probably not the best outfit, but it should keep you warm.”

“Thank you.” you grabbed the clothes from him. “Can I change in there?”

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead.” He got out of the way, but you only took a step before he repeated something. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“Uhm, sure. Tea?”

“Coming right up.” and he went off to the kitchen to set the kettle. You walked, uninterrupted, to the other room. It was, like assumed, the bedroom with not much there except for a closet and a large bed. It did look really comfortable though. And made up. You wished your bedroom looked this clean.

You took off your wet clothes, which was quite the challenge since it all stuck to your skin and your jeans wouldn’t budge from their place. The clothes Tom had provided were some shorts that seemed like he used for training or whatever exercise he did and a sweater. You had wanted to wear your new Winter Solstice t-shirt but, of course, that had soaked through as well. So, you put on the sweater and knew immediately that that was the better choice. It was soft and warm. Plus, the idea of wearing his clothes was also touching to the heart.

You walked out of the room as Tom was pouring the boiling water into two mugs. He looked over at you with a smile.

“How do you take it?” He was opening the fridge, ready to take out the milk.

“Honey and lemon, but it’s fine if you don’t have that.” you quickly added.

“Please, you’re talking to the tea expert here.” He took out a bottle of lemon juice, the same out you always buy you noticed, and a jar of honey from the cupboard. As he did that, you looked around some more in the room. The large leather couch was definitely the centre point of the room, with the large tv in front of it, accompanied by a PlayStation. There was a bookcase filled with… well, books, but also CD’s, records and different little things between them. You looked around, hoping to find a drum set somewhere, but there was none. Which made sense. You didn’t expect the neighbours to be too fond of drumming as a pastime hobby.

“We practice at Harrison’s place. He soundproofed his place.” Tom explained, seeing how you were looking around cluelessly. He handed you your cup as you both sat down on the couch. Fearing for your tongue, you carefully took the first sip, but it was surprisingly pleasant. He must have poured in some cold water to cool it down, just the right amount too. As soon as the tea got into your system, you felt the warmth go through your entire body. It was absolutely fantastic.

Still, you had to admit, it was a strange situation. Never would you have imagined to go to a concert and then, later on, go out for a late-night meal with the drummer, and now to be drinking tea on his couch.

“You don’t do this often, do you?” You quizzed. Tom looked up from his mug.

“Do what?”

“This. Take a girl out to eat, bring her home, undress in front of her… make her tea.” you elaborated on your question.

“The tea making, yeah, that’s new.” He sipped his tea with a slurp.

“Well, I’m glad to be the first then.” You knew he had meant it jokingly, so why not just go along with it?

You drank your tea together in silence. It all had this strange domestic feeling that was very nice, but by far not what you thought would be doing with Tom that night. But eventually, the tea had been drunk. You were sitting on opposite ends of the sofa. At one point you had put your legs on top of his. You could see that he was thinking about something.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you asked. He had been staring at the coffee table, mumbling the Flintstones theme song to himself and tapping his fingers along to the melody on your leg. You had clearly pulled him out of a trance.

“Do you wanna dance?”

“What?”

“Sorry, I was just thinking, we can sit here the whole night until we fall asleep, or we can put on some music and dance. Just a suggestion.” He was full of surprises, this guy.

“Yeah, sure.” You got up and pulled him by the hands to follow you. “Sounds fun. Pick a song” You thought he would just get out his phone and get a Bluetooth speaker, but boy were you wrong. He moved over to the bookcase with his music collection. You tried to look over his shoulder at what record he had picked, but he pulled it out of the sleeve quickly and put it under the needle of the record player.

As the needle scratched between songs, he walked back to you. The music that he picked was slow, and it felt perfect for the moment as he took your hand in his and let the other softly touch your side. You weren’t the most excellent dancer but knew enough that you had to put your free arm on his shoulder.

The two of you moved around the room slowly, to the beat of the song. You put your head on his chest and could hear his heart beating along, well a bit faster. You could see his necklace poking out from underneath his shirt, so you let go of his shoulder to pull it out.

“It’s nice,” you smiled, a bit dazed, playing with the charm between your fingers. You could hear him chuckle a thank you.

The song was new to you. It was a simple melody, the singing was soft and intimate. As you spun around in Tom’s arms, it felt like the words were speaking to you directly. What was it again? You couldn’t remember exactly. Feeling him so close next to you, everything else was just a blur. Just like when he sang-

“Wait, is this you?” you looked up at him. He just smiled.

“Oh my god, it is!” Way to ruin the moment, but the song had already ended, and it was the only one on that side of the small record. “You guys have records?”

“We got ourselves an EP copy each,” he explained, scratching the back of his head. “I hoped you would like it.”

“I- I do.”

You looked into his eyes, trying- hoping- to see what he was thinking. They were flickering golden brown in the soft and warm light of the room. Then you saw it. That one sign you were looking for. It was just a fracture of a second. If you had blinked, you were sure you would have missed it. But you did see it. You saw how his eyes quivered down to your lips and back up to meet your eyes again.

He held your hand in his, the other was on your waist. He pulled you in closer—your chest against his. You could feel how shaky his breath was against your cheek. You lost your battle with self-control as you dared to glance down at his lips. They looked so soft. So inviting.

And you took that invitation gladly. Pressing your lips against his. He stumbled back a step, not expecting the push. He let go of your hand so he could hold you firmly against his chest. In the meantime, your hands wandered off to his hair. It was still wet from the rain, making it easier for you to comb through it. The kiss itself intensified with each lasting second.

A sound escaped you as he grabbed onto your leg, just to drag you off to the couch. He sat, giving you easy access to sit on his lap. You sat down with great pleasure.

If the air wasn’t such a necessity in life, it would have been likely you would have never pulled away, but alas. You parted your lips just enough to stop your lungs from burning. Tom took that moment to brush off a strand of hair behind your ear. A classic little move but you fell for it immediately. The feeling of his fingers against your skin. It felt sinful. It was only your cheek. Just thinking about his touch all over your body gave you that rush to kiss him again.

As he kept on holding your waist with one hand, the other made its way to your thigh, squeezing it gently. That little gesture made you jump up. Unplanned, was the friction between your and his hips. You couldn’t hear it, but you felt him hold back the moan.

“Fuck, don’t hold it in,” as frustrating it was to pull away, it had to be said. “Please,” you panted.

“Whatever you want, baby.” He leaned in to kiss you again, but this time he went lower down to your jawline. You held on to the back of his head and shoulder for support as he kissed and nipped at your skin, moving down to your neck.

Your body was starting to feel hotter and hotter. The once so comfortable sweater was just an inconvenient restriction at this point. And Tom felt that too. To your disappointment, his hands left your body to tug at the hem of the sweater. Before taking it off, however, he looked you in the eyes.

“You sure about this?”

“Yes,” you breathed out.

“But, if you ever wanna stop, just tell me, okay?”

“Yes.” How he managed to form full sentences, that was a mystery. You put your arms up, letting Tom take off the sweater. He threw it over the edge of the couch. Not a second later, your lips were together once again. Even though it only had been a minute, two max, it felt like an eternity that you had to get through to touch him again.

His fingers moved slowly over your body. Every inch he moved, followed with a burning sensation as if he was on fire. Burning you gradually, in the best way possible. One thing just felt off. So, you tugged at his shirt.

“I’m not doing all the work, babe,” he said with a grin. You rolled your eyes at his comment, but it wasn’t as if you really minded undressing him. You grabbed the shirt and slowly pulled it up to his chest. One by one, his muscles showed themselves, and you had to control the urges that started building up in the pit of your stomach. You pulled the shirt. Tom already had his arms up, ready to get the fabric off. If only he knew about your plan that started forming in your head.

The hem of the shirt just touched his lip when you put it in his mouth. He was about to spit it out, but you stopped him.

“Just wait, okay.” He kissed his cheek sweetly, making him roll his eyes at you. As slowly as possible, you slid off his lap. He wanted to make a grab at your hips, but you pushed his hands off… with difficulty, cause fuck, if it didn’t feel right to have him touch you.

The only way to let him leave you alone was intertwining your fingers, and letting your hands fall to his sides. He saw how you planted your feet on the ground so to make it easier for the both of you he spread his legs. It was a golden sight. With a big smile on your face, you leaned in, kissing his chest. It immediately received the reaction you hoped for. With the fabric in his mouth, Tom groaned softly, but still very audibly in the quiet room. When you looked up, you saw him tugging at the shirt as he tried to pull his head up, tensing his jaw. He could have just spit it out if he really wanted it gone… but he didn’t.

Thought it safe, you let go of his hands. They stayed in place next to his thighs. You moved closer to him to continue the feather-light kisses along his smooth skin. With each touch, his chest heaved in deep and heavy inhaled. You kept going. Kiss after kiss, moving lower and lower. You couldn’t help it but lick down that line of his abs, across that gorgeous tummy of his. And it was good too, rewarded with a beautiful growl from Tom. You could have said it was the best thing you had heard that night, but you had listened to a lot of good things that night… and who knew what was still to come.

You left one last kiss below his belly button, exactly to meet the elastic band of his underwear. A part of you wanted to snap it, but that felt a bit too cruel considering you almost made him swallow his shirt. You looked up again. It was a magnificent sight, Tom holding that hemline in his mouth, gritting his teeth as his chest moved up and down, needing and hoping for a release. He looked down at you too, and his eyes were black with lust. You could see him clenching his fists.

That was a sign of continuing. Unlike before, you quickly started to unbutton his trousers. You were too focused on your little task to look at Tom, but you saw him roll his head on the backrest of the couch. You unzipped the pants and pulled them down with a few tugs.

You almost felt bad seeing how hard he got in those few moments. Almost. Just a little bit more teasing wouldn’t hurt, right? Tom had other ideas. He pulled out the shirt from his mouth, tugged it off in one swift move, and threw it behind him. He glared down at you. “I swear if you don’t suck me off right now-”

“Or what?” you challenged him. This clearly took him aback, but only for a second. Then, this twinkle in his eye appeared, telling you that there was not a saint thought in his mind at that moment. He leaned over, only an inch away from your face. His words were like a high, each one giving you precisely the right rush of adrenaline you needed.

“Suck my cock, Princess, or I’ll just have to fuck that pretty mouth myself.”

And you were gonna let him, but a more significant part of you didn’t want to give up that easily. So, for now, you let out a soft whimper and nodded. Tom kissed you softly on the lips before sitting back up straight. He looked like a king on a fucking throne, with that proud and smug grin. It was giving you the greatest pleasure to ruin that little moment of his.

You palmed him through his boxers, moving your hand up and down, then leaned in yourself to kiss it, still through the fabric. Tom hissed out a moan, and right then, you knew you were golden. One more little kiss and you reached out for the border of his underwear. You were about to pull it down-

And then you got up.

“What the fuck-”

“I’m gonna get some water, I think.” And just like that you hopped over to the little kitchen and grabbed yourself a glass. As you were pouring yourself the water, you could hear him shuffling his feet out of his trousers. You could hear him walk up behind you. As you were about to touch the brim of the glass against your lips, you felt him push against your back. His hard-on was more than evident. He moved his fingers into your hips as he whispered into your ear, making your body shake from anticipation.

“So, you wanna play games, huh?” His tone was nothing but filthy. “You could have just said so, I mean I got Monopoly somewhere in the closet.” His left hand drifted off, moving up your side. You were still holding that damn glass of water, body frozen.

“Or I could turn on the PlayStation, whatever you want darling.” He kissed you just below the ear. His hand was sliding across the valley between your breast, tracing up to your neck.

“Hmm, tell me, what do you want?”

“I- I-” you couldn’t think straight. With him talking like that and his soft touch, it was too much.

“Speak up, baby.”

“I want...Aah!! What the fuck!” Suddenly his touch was gone, and you felt something ice-cold cover your torso. You had still been holding up that glass of water, and when Tom got close enough, he tipped it over with his finger, letting all the cold content spill out on you. Goosebumps formed all over your body, and you shrieked out in pure shock.

“Oops,” he giggled and pecked you on the cheek. Before you could say another word, he was walking away, in the direction of his bedroom. Not looking around, he held up his hand.

“Counting to four and then you better be here, without those ugly shorts.”

“They’re yours,” you said as he opened the door, still shivering from the cold water. He opened the door and was gonna close it but then quickly said-

“So? I have horrible taste. Take ‘em off, darling,” and he closed it. You could hear him count from the other side.

ONE

You quickly pushed off the, indeed, not great looking shorts.

TWO

You started walking up to the bedroom. The butterflies in your stomach had left the cage and were going crazy.

THREE

Almost at the door.

FOUR

You opened it. There stood Tom. He didn’t even hide the way he was checking you out. In only a bra and panties, there was little you could hide behind, but you tried to fight the insecurities.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” He said before striding your way. Grabbing on to you, he kissed you passionately. You felt his hand in your hair, so you mimicked it. For the rest, you had no idea what was going on since you had closed your eyes. You let all the other senses speak for themself—his soft but harsh touch; the way you could still smell the rain on him—the sweet taste of honey and tea on his lips. You could hear the little grunts and whimpers escape the both of you as he slammed you against the door with a thud.

Then he grabbed your leg, signally for you to jump. You did without hesitation. Arms around his neck, fingers tangled into the hair at the nape of his neck. You kissed him feverishly. The fact that he was holding you up with only one hand hadn’t even caught up to you. The hand that was leaning against the door next to your face was not even registered by your addled brain yet.

Feeling the need for air again, you pulled away. Your foreheads were leaning against each other as you both inhaled deeply.

“What happened to fucking my mouth, Tommy?” You quipped. Tom was staring down, looking at how your chest heaved deeply with every breath.

“Would take too long,” he said, now looking up into your eyes. “I thought it would be better to just straight up start with your sweet little cunt.” He growled into your ear. Before you could say anything in response, he kissed you again.

His words were still spinning around in your head as he pushed the two of you away from the wall and carried you across the room to the bed. You could feel his erection against you, hard as a fucking rock. Why did you pull away from him on the couch?

He put his knee on the mattress before letting you drop. It made you think back to just a few hours ago, how you had fallen down on to your own bed, contemplating whether or not to go to some dumb concert… now look at you.

Your head touched the soft bedding, but your legs were still around Tom’s middle. He grabbed your legs and spread them just the right way so he could lean closer to you.

“You look so fucking hot, right now.” He groaned as his teeth grazed your neck, making you arch your back. He pinned you back down on the bed.

“Seeing you in that crowd, you know how hard it was for me to concentrate?” At this point, he had your arms above your head, holding them tightly. He kissed your jawline and moved up to your ear, tugging at your earlobe just that little bit, enough to make you quiver. You didn’t realise he actually wanted an answer until you felt the harsh sting of him slapping your thigh. Just enough to send that spark up to where you needed him the most.

“Fuck,” you moaned, “No, Tommy, I didn’t.”

“Hmm, thought so. But I saw you staring at me. Checking me out, huh? I had to really control myself to not just grab you and fuck you out there, right on my drumset.” His free hand, the one that wasn’t holding back your arms, was getting closer to your pussy. Your entire body was pulsing and shaking, needing for him to do something. Anything.

“Just imagine that, Princess,” he was whispering into your ear again, “you bouncing on my dick, in front of all of those people.”

“Fuuck,” you had never been much into exhibitionism, but hearing him speak like that, everything sounded good.

Suddenly you felt his fingers move over your underwear. It was just for a moment, him passing through from one thigh to the other, but it was enough to have you moan out his name in need.

“Tsk, behave, darling,” he kissed your forehead. So sweetly, it almost seemed as if he wasn’t about to fuck the complete hell out of you. “You’re gonna behave for me, right?”

“Yes. Just please- please do something.” You pleaded, which gave great pleasure to Tom.

“Good to know we got that little attitude from earlier sorted out, huh? I really didn’t want to punish you.” He didn’t? So what the hell was this torture? Of course, it all felt amazing, but if he would cross his fingers one more time next to your clit, you might actually explode.

“Now, I think I’m going to finger your little pussy, okay Princess,” He asked with that sweet tone. You could feel his fingertips move across the fabric of your panties. “Yeah, I think you’d like that huh, look how fucking soaked you are.” With his thumb he pressed over your clit, moving down through the slit. You moaned out, finally feeling some kind of relief from him.

He kissed your neck as he finally moved your underwear to the side.

“You’re so pretty and needy, you know that?” he said, smiling. You nodded your head, biting your lip in anticipation of what he was gonna do next. You had your eyes closed and opened them for a moment. Tom was right above you. He sent you an air kiss for extra measure. You tried to focus on his eyes instead of the sensation you felt every time one of his fingers was getting closer to push into you. Still, whimpers escaped you. Which he enjoyed immensely.

Then he finally did it. Two fingers, deep inside, stretching your walls. You moaned out in pure relief, ecstatic to finally feel something inside you. Tom let you adjust for a second until he started to move slowly in and out, making momentum. Not that he forgot about your clit. Oh no, he rubbed it until you were seeing stars in front of you,

“I’m going to let go of you, alright?” You were ready to nod at his question, but he added more on to it. “But since you do like playing games so much-” here it comes, you knew it, “let’s make it a bit of a game. I’ll let go of you, and then you got, let’s say, three seconds to pick a new place for them. And then you better stick with it too, cause I don’t want to see you move until you come, understood?”

“Yes, Tommy.” you gasped more so than said.

“Good.” He kissed you but quickly started to move down. You knew what was going to happen, you had been waiting for it. But he was still holding on to you. Right as his mouth had passed your stomach, he let go of your wrists. Without thinking about it, you planted your fingers in his hair.

“Hmm, good choice, darling.” He mumbled against the skin of your hip. You brushed your fingers through his hair, not sure what else to do while waiting for him to-

Then, he pushed your panties aside completely. You felt his tongue, and it made you roll your eyes to the back of your head. He held on to your leg with one arm, the fingers of the other were still moving in and out of you. You held on to his hair, holding on for dear life. For a second that thought of possibly hurting him flashed through your mind, but then that melodic groan went through him, and the vibrations of his voice passed through your body like an electric shock.

He kept moving his tongue in a way that made you sure he was trying to spell something out, possibly his own name, but you simply couldn’t make anything of it. You could barely concentrate on your own breathing, let alone words.

Tom pulled you closer to him, deeper, making you moan like you never had before. Now, you had your fair share of experience, but he was… extraordinary. He took his time, made sure to give every minuscule part of you the attention it needed. Almost as if he wanted to hit every single nerve and cell individually. You weren’t even sure if he did it for your pleasure or because of his own.

Did it matter?

From the way how you could feel the knot in your stomach tighten, clearly not.

“To-tom.” you gasped out. You were close. So close. But he didn’t need your words to know that. But it wasn’t enough for him. So, instead of going deeper, harder, faster, he sucked at your clit one last time before licking his way over to your thigh. You could have screamed in agony.

“Tom!” you did.

You wanted to let go of him and get up. Pull him up to you, maybe get on top even. But you remembered his words. I don’t want to see you move until you come. As much as you wanted to know what would happen if you broke that little rule, you also wanted to listen.

And so, you let out your frustration through digging your nails into his hair, but it had the exact opposite effect on Tom that you hoped for. Any time you would pull, even the tiniest bit, he would grab your thigh even harder, pulling himself to you. And he just kept on toying with you. Playing with your clit until that familiar knot was tying itself up in you, only to pull away and suck another perfect little hickey on your thighs. You had lost count how many times he had already marked you. On top of that, every time his lips would pull away, so would his fingers. Pull out just enough, only leaving his fingertips in you, to get you on that next edge of frustration, to make you beg for more.

“Tom, pleeease,” you begged. Tears were already forming in your eyes. It didn’t help that he would take that stupid necklace of his and put it against your burning skin. The cold metal of the charm always managed to come up against a new mark that Tom had left behind.

“Tell me what you want, darling,” he said, kissing your sensitive skin between the words. You had to take all the power left in you to form the semi-coherent sentence.

“I want- want to come. Please, Tom.” Your head was spinning, body flushed and hot, sweat and tears mixing at your temples.

“You only had to say so.” His voice was the opposite of yours, composed and relaxed. You felt his smirk against you as he left one last kiss on you. The finally-

The easiest way to describe it was that he had gone wild. Animalistic. He devoured you as if he was a starving man, and you the last meal on earth. Then there were his fingers, moving at a rapid pace, but still so steady. You could feel it nearing. So fucking close. You couldn’t hold it in any longer. Your legs were shaking, and all your other muscles were practically rigid from how tense you were. You needed to let go now. Feel that release at last.

At last, yes. With a scream, you felt it all relax. Your body came undone in a wave of pleasure. You were melting into the bed, Tom being the only thing keeping you somewhat conscious of your surroundings.

You tried to concentrate on the feeling of his lips, licking one final line over your clit. It shook you to your core. You whimpered, not being able to take much more. Your body went limp, you let go of his hair.

“Shhh,” he was moving up. Kissing your body, snaking his way back up to look into your eyes. The cold touch of the necklace followed behind. You opened your eyes, but everything was blurry. After blinking a few times, you could finally see him, drenched in your juices, with the biggest grin on his face.

He parted his lips just the tiniest bit, and you followed him blindly. You felt his fingers on your lips and without thinking, put them in your mouth. The taste of yourself, together with the feeling of his fingers tasted like the best damn thing ever.

“That’s right,” he kissed your tear-stained cheek, “you’re my good girl, aren’t you?”

You nodded, closing your eyes. It was all too much, you had to cut off one of your senses before it was too late.

“I wish you could see how beautiful you looked right now. So fucked out- and I haven’t even had my good fun with you yet.”

You wanted to protest, but it was too difficult to speak. Besides, your fingers felt too good in your mouth to let them go for some pathetic little words. It wasn’t worth it.

But like all good things in life, it had to end. He pulled his fingers out of your mouth. Having no control left over your body, you let a whine escape you at the loss of touch.

“Christ, you’re needy,” he said before kissing you deeply, but shortly before he finished his statement. “I love it.” His hands were roaming your body. He held up your leg just so he could get in the position to squeeze your ass.

“Hold on to me, baby,” he murmured between another kiss. You did your best, still feeling no energy in your limbs. You crossed your arms behind his neck, feeding on the kiss for the strength to move. He held you as he pulled the both of you up to sit on the bed. And he kept holding on to you when he thrust his right hand to your back, to the strap of your bra. He moved his fingers around, looking for the clasp. Even in your dazed state, it made you laugh a little.

“It’s upfront,” you mumbled, kissing the corner of his mouth. He moved away to look at you, confused. You pointed down at the front of your bra.

“So you’re telling me,” he flicked it open, letting your breast basically spill out in front of him, “I could have had this view this whole time? Fuck!” He pulled the straps down your shoulders to take it off.

“Sorry?” you said, not sure if you really needed to apologise.

“No, don’t be.” He threw the bra to the floor. Almost on the spot where you had changed. It really wasn’t that long ago, but it felt like it. Had you thought of this happening when you put on his sweater? Maybe? In a sense. It was an option. But nothing would have prepared you for this.

How could you have even thought about sitting on his lap, your legs around his waist, your arms on his shoulders, as he held you? Because of this, this wasn’t just some simple fuck. You hoped it wasn’t, at least. The way you held each other and how there was nothing but the passion between you- or was it possible that it didn’t mean that much to him?

Still, that orgasm he gave you was the best you have had in a long time. So if it was only for the night, then let it be. You could still get a good time out of it, and you would not let your mind ruin this.

Luckily for you too, Tom’s kisses made you shut off your thoughts reasonably quickly. It wouldn’t even matter if the world had been ending.

But kissing could only get you so far. And he clearly had the same thought. Panting, his hot breath hitting your neck, he asked you.

“Are you ready for this, babe?” You nodded. “I need to hear it, please.”

“Yes. Just fuck me already.”

“Perfect.” with a peck on the cheek, he let go of you and let you slip off his lap. He got off the bed. You sat on your knees, hands next to your legs, looking at him in anticipation. It was insane how he had managed to eat you out while his cock was rock hard. You could see the outline of it through his underwear, leaving nothing, but really nothing, to the imagination.

You watched him do a little jiggle, making you laugh, before taking the band off his boxer shorts and pulling it down. To say your mouth started to water, would sound ridiculous, but you weren’t so far from that state. He wasn’t too long, or too thick, you didn’t expect it to be anyway, but it looked just right to send you over into another dimension. There was that one vein going along his shaft that you couldn’t get enough of. Unconsciously, you were moving over to the edge of the bed. Just seeing him completely naked in front of you, send your mind into a frenzy. It was a magnificent view.

What couldn’t go unnoticed was how red the tip had gone, from pure arousal and frustration that he needed to relieve. How badly you wanted to help him. You moved closer to the bed end, he took a step closer to you. He had his hand on his cock but didn’t move a muscle. If he did, you thought, he might have exploded right there in the spot. And what would be the fun in that?

“Fuck,” he groaned, standing in front of you. “You look so fucking perfect on your knees.”

You didn’t say anything, just smiled. The energy was coming back into your body, slowly, and you could feel getting that independence back that Tom had so rudely taken away from you. So, without saying anything, you took him in your hand and started to move up and down, not breaking eye contact, well, until Tom’s head rolled back. You couldn’t blame him.

You kept on stroking him, steadily, leaving kisses every few seconds on his tip. The pre-cum started leaking almost instantaneously, which you gladly used to spread all over his tip, making it much easier to move your hand around. Your kisses in the meantime got sloppier each time, longer. Until you were basically just kitten licking that vein that was taunting you before.

The sounds that were coming from Tom were adding to the whole experience in the best way. His moans and grunts were sending you to the edge, so far that you couldn’t help but let your free hand wander down and rub your clit. And it didn’t go unnoticed by Tom.

“Even when sucking my dick, you need more, huh?” He asked as he looked down, right when you had finally put the tip in your mouth, twirling your tongue around it. The fact that you tried to look up into his eyes all innocent like should have sent him flying from laughter, but instead, he put his hand on your head and softly started to stroke your hair.

“Thought so,” he grunted. His hand stayed in your hair as you let your jaw slack and you made your way down his shaft, all the way till you could feel him touch the back of your throat. His grip got tighter, he didn’t move anything, but you just felt him grab your hair in his fist. Just enough to tell you to move without hurting you. He would have probably said it in words, but when you looked up, you saw how twisted his face was in pure delight.

You started to move in a paced way, but eventually, it felt too slow for Tom. That hand in your hair came to final use as he began to guide your movement. Letting you practically choke on him every time he moved up with the tempo. You felt the tears coming again as the drool fell from your mouth. You were an absolute mess, but it didn’t bother you one bit.

He kept going, fucking your mouth just like he had promised on the couch earlier.

“You know,” he said between pants, “As much as I’d love to cum in your mouth-” he hissed in pleasure when he hit the back of your throat again. “I swear the things you do to me, darling.”

He let go of you and pulled out. You gasped for air, finally having a free passage of air to come through to your lungs. Tom wiped some of the drool from your mouth before leaning in to kiss you. He closed you in by placing his arm next to you and slowly let you fall on your back again.

“Jesus,” he panted after the kiss. He looked at your mouth before gazing into your eyes again. You couldn’t imagine that it looked great, with your makeup completely smudged, but he smiled. “Would it be crazy to say that I love you right now?”

“I’ve heard crazier,” you said back, also out of breath.

“Oh yeah?”

You just shrugged. He let out an airy laugh that you could feel against your face. You closed your eyes, just for a second, to enjoy the moment. This small speck of time in the universe, where it was only you and him, where nothing else mattered. Just two strangers having a great time. Would there be more after this? Who was to say? It didn’t matter. Not to you, at least.

The little moment was ruined when you heard him curse. Suddenly the weight of the bed shifted, as he moved from hovering on top of you. You opened your eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

He was already on the side of the bed, leaning out to reach the drawer of the bedside table.

“Condom,” he muttered out, still trying to reach it. Not that he could just move up a bit and slide the thing open with ease. He liked feeling you underneath him. And you did too.

Finally, he managed to open the drawer and had to move up a bit to reach into it. You could hear his patting on the wood, but there was no sound of packaging.

“Fuck, wait a second.” He got up with a small jump and ran off, leaving you basically naked and alone on the bed. You sat and finally took off your panties. It was no surprise that they were completely soaked. You threw them on the ground next to your bra.

The drawer was still open, and you bit your lip at the thought of looking inside it. You could tell a lot by a person’s bedside table. And it was already open… just a peek wouldn’t hurt? Right?

You moved closer to the table and leaned in to look. There was not much inside-just a charger, a book (but it was too dark in the room to read the small print of the title), a glasses case and a small notebook and pen. On the notebook, you saw scratched “WS”. Winter Solstice? Was it possibly lyrics? You didn’t go as far as going into that.

As you had been looking, you could hear him rummaging through stuff in the room next door, the bathroom.

Having seen everything there was to see in the drawer, you decided to just lie down on the bed, looking for a comfortable position, but also something that Tom would enjoy seeing when he walked into the room. Right then, the door opened, and Tom walked in. His one hand over his crotch and the other holding a box of condoms.

“Sorry, I couldn’t find them at first, turned out they were- fuck.” He was looking at the box and hadn’t seen you lying there immediately. When he finally did, he almost dropped the condoms, only catching them with his other hand at the last second.

“You think you can get on your knees for me, darling?”

“I can try,” you shrugged, already turning around. You could hear him curse to himself as he saw you sit there. Then the ripping off the wrapper. He was taking his time for sure, which you didn’t really mind. You just weren’t really sure if your arms would be able to hold yourself up. You could already feel them shaking.

“I really fucked you up, didn’t I, love?” You felt his cold hand on your ass, squeezing and kneading gently.

“Yeah, I guess so-Ah,” you moaned as he slapped the spot he had been so gentle with just a second before. At that touch, your left arm gave in, and you lost balance, falling with your face into the blanket. The nicely made up bed now only smelled of sweat and sex and you really weren’t mad at it.

“Fuck, c’mere,” he groaned, pulling you in by your waist, so your back was against his chest. You yelped out at the sudden movement and looked over your shoulder to look at his face. He was looking down at your chest. Hard nipples begging for attention from his hands and then they finally got it. As he kissed your shoulder, he started to play carefully pull at them, making sure your reaction was nothing but good. He got what he looked for when your hand reached out for his while you moaned.

Then there was that cock of his, between your legs at this point, teasing you. Tom let go of your chest, allowing you to replace it with your own hand. You tried to ignore the tickling sensation as his fingers danced over your naked body, moving down to your legs. He grabbed his shaft and, for worst or best, slapped your pussy with it.

“Tommm,” you whined, just needing to feel him inside you.

“Alright, sorry. I just couldn’t help myself.” He kissed your neck as he finally slid into you. Those two feelings together made you roll your eyes so far back you thought you had gone blind for a moment. He spread your walls and filled you up perfectly, like the strangest fucking puzzle. You reached up to grab his hair again. There was just something about it, how it was so messy and you were the cause of it, that turned you on. And by the way, he smiled as you tugged at it, you could tell he loved it as well.

Tom kept on pounding into you at this perfect rhythm, to no surprise. You wouldn’t have expected anything less from a drummer. He was rough, deep, hitting every spot he needed to at just the right time. And with every thrust, you felt yourself getting closer. Already so sensitive from the previous orgasm and the way he had utterly destroyed your mouth, there was really not much you needed to get there again.

But it didn’t mean that he put in any less effort. Tom took each and every thrust with the precision you deserved. He kissed every inch of your skin available to his lips.

It didn’t take long for you to come undone again. The moans coming from your mouth were all he needed to get there too. The way he groaned into your ear as he came could have sent you going for another round, but your legs were shaking like crazy. If it wasn’t for the way he held you, you would have most definitely fallen.

His hand fell to your stomach, holding you tightly. Out of reflex, you reached out for it, intertwining your fingers. He pulled out of you. The sudden emptiness in you was the final straw for your legs to give up, your knees spread, making you slide down past Tom’s body a little. Heavy breathing from both of you filled the room—his chest against your back. Your heart beats mixing together into one.

He held you close to him until you could somewhat control your breathing. He sat down and carefully put you down so you could lay down on the bed. You watched as he took off the condom and threw it into the small bin in the corner of the room. He grabbed his underwear and put it on quickly.

“Let’s get you something to wear, shall we,” he smiled at the sight of you lying in his bed, exhausted, naked, with the most sheepish smile on your face. You nodded, expecting him to grab the sweater from the living room, but instead, he opened the closet and took a shirt that was folded on the top shelf. He sat down on the bed and helped you sit up as you got the shirt over your head.

You noticed it was another Winter Solstice shirt, but it had a different design on it. It didn’t have that scratchy writing on it. Instead, the letters flowed smoothly into each other in an intricate cursive pattern. Underneath it, there was a sketch of a crescent moon.

“It’s a design we think about using if we do any other shows,” he explained before you could ask. “The other one was cheaper so we could get more.”

“I do hope you’ll play more shows,” you admitted as you lay down on the pillow. You thought he would join you, but instead, he got up. Clearly, he saw the panic in your face because he quickly explained: “I’m just gonna get you some water.”

“No, stay,” it came out a bit more whiny than you intended it to, “I’m fine.”

“You sure?” He raised an eyebrow but still sat down next to you. You patted the other pillow motioning for him to join you in the horizontal position, which he eventually did with pleasure. You scooted over to be closer. By doing so, though, the shirt moved up, only just covering your breast.

Tom put his hand on your side, tapping mindlessly, you focused on it, trying to figure out a pattern, but nothing came to mind. You put your arm under your head for some more support, and you looked at him while his eyes were on your body. He seemed to be deep in thought again, just like back on the couch before you started dancing. His tapping transformed into his fingers moving around over your skin in small shapes.

“You know,” he said, still drawing little pictures on your side, “I’d really hate for this to just be a one-night thing.” He looked up into your eyes.

“As long as you make me some more tea again, we’re good.” you leaned in to kiss him through each other's soft laughs. Of course, it wouldn’t be a one-time thing. You didn’t want it to be. You were completely hooked on him. Ever since you had seen him sitting at that bar. To think it was only a few hours ago.

The END

> Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed > please reblog and leave a comment or ask with your thoughts. i love reading them >masterlist and link to taglist in bio

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acciowests · 3 years

Text

From Lorcan With Love

WORD COUNT: 1707

SUMMARY: A "From Lukov With Love" inspired ice hockey x figure skating AU featuring Lorcan Salvaterre and Elide Lochan from "Throne Of Glass"

Lorcan and Rowan arrive early for training and walk in on a figure skater finishing her session. It isn't until she falls that Lorcan rushes forward, helping up the woman he learns is called Elide and immediately begins to fall for her charms.

"You know, you didn't have to wake me up this early, right?" Rowan drawled as they pulled into the Orynth Rink parking lot. With their first game of the season taking place next Friday, Lorcan Salvaterre - Goalkeeper of the Terrasen High Hawks - had booked out the rink for three whole hours of practice. Along with being Lorcan's best friend, Rowan Whitethorn was also the captain of the Hawks, their school's ice hockey team. Despite having napped for most of their journey, Rowan's brows were furrowed in a tired frown, his lips in a thin line as he stretched in his seat.

The capital's Ice Rink mainly housed ice skating: including singles figure skating, pairs ice dancing, as well as the annual sectional competitions and sometimes the national one also. None of that meant much to Lorcan, he just knew the Orynth Rink also showcased professional Hockey Teams, such as the Orynth Stags; a team he had dreamt of being a part of since he started his ice hockey journey at seven-years-old.

"Stop complaining, old man," Lorcan chuckled, smirking at the silver-haired boy. "Get the bags from the trunk will you?"

Sticking up his middle finger noncommittally, letting it fall into his lap, Rowan climbed out of the car, rounding toward the back of the vehicle. Lorcan switched off the engine and stepped outside. Grabbing the gym bag full of their gear, Rowan hauled it over his shoulder as Lorcan locked the car, the two boys walking through the parking lot and toward the rink.

The changing room was empty, as Lorcan expected, and the two boys changed in comfortable silence. They pulled on their team jerseys: deep green with silver writing that displayed their name and number. Paired with sweatpants and their elbow and shoulder pads, as well as their shin guards, the boys shoved their bags into the lockers, along with their phones, and headed out to the rink. Walking off the ice with skates on had always felt weird, even with the skate guards that protected the blade. Heading down into the stadium, Lorcan's eyes locked onto the lone figure skater within the rink. The clock overhead told him she still had fifteen minutes left, which meant he and Rowan had fifteen minutes of waiting.

Slumping down into a seat, Lorcan set his elbows against his knees, leaning forward and watching the petite, raven-haired girl dance across the ice. Beside him, Rowan drummed his feet lazily, Lorcan ignoring him completely as he listened to the sound of her blade across the ice.

When, and if, he saw figure skaters, they were always wearing glittery costumes in shades of reds, purples and blues. And though he was sure most skaters did dress down for practice, the girl before him looked like she dressed in the dark. Which, if she had booked a three hour practise, she just might have. Ignoring the grey leggings and burgundy sweater showing a Perranth Skating Club logo, she skated as though she was in front of thousands. Each turn was sharp but smooth, each of her jumps or leaps landing perfectly - to Lorcan's untrained eye, anyway.

"I was thinking we could do some new drills. As captain, I reckon we have a good shot this season. I think we could rank high, come out on top," Rowan started, interrupting Lorcan's gaze.

"Right, yeah. If the others even get here," Lorcan sighed, not that he minded. He was much enjoying his time watching the beautiful skater.

"Chill out, Lor. There's still five minutes, they'll be here," Rowan insisted, nudging Lorcan's shoulder.

Shrugging, Lorcan turned to face the rink, just in time to watch the skater turn back into a jump. She took off from the back outside edge of her skate, using her toe pick to help her spin twice, and just as her foot hit the ice, her ankle gave way. An echoing thud rang out around them as she hit the floor, her thigh and butt slamming down onto the ice as she fell.

Before he even realised what he was doing, Lorcan stood, rushing down the rows of seats and towards the rink. Removing his skate guards and tossing them to the side, Lorcan stepped onto the ice, skating over to the girl who was now curled up, a hand against her thigh and stretching a leg out before her.

"Hey, you okay?" Lorcan called, coming to a stop beside her and offering her a hand, "That looked like a pretty nasty fall."

The girl chuckled, rubbing her thigh once more and taking his hand. Her palm was surprisingly soft, cold enough to send a shiver through him as she gripped tightly. Hoisting her up, Lorcan didn't miss the wince that slipped between her lips. Before he could say anything, she shook her head, "It's fine, it's just my ankle."

As she stood before him, Lorcan tried not to smirk at the immense height difference between them. At least a whole foot. Instead, he just nodded, "Well, that jump looked pretty hard. From what I've seen you're a pretty good skater. You shouldn't let one fall get you down."

"Not good enough. I should be able to do that jump in my sleep. There's no way I'm going to win sectionals like this," she sighed, running a hand through her hair. Her left hand, Lorcan realised, was still in his. She hadn't put her ankle back down onto the ice, instead, she rested it against her other foot, off the ground where there was no pressure on it.

"What happened? Is it just a strain?" Lorcan asked, hoping he wasn't being too curious. His eyes were drawn to the flush of her cheeks, bright red against the pale shading of the rest of her face. With her mop of black hair against glowing skin, she looked ethereal.

"I wish," she scoffed, "No, I broke it a few years ago and it never healed properly. I lost my axel completely, had to relearn my entire program and make all the moves easier. I already lost regionals, I can't afford to lose sectionals too," she explained, her chest rising and falling.

"Well, how long until sectionals? Maybe with some assistance, and physiotherapy on your ankle, you might be able to win?" Lorcan suggested, watching the girl's eyebrows slowly furrow as she looked up at him. They were thick and black, arching over her face and defining it fiercely.

"You don't know when sectionals are?" she asked, as though it was the most obvious question in the world.

Lorcan chuckled, shaking his head, "Oh, no. I'm not a skater. I play ice hockey."

The girl blinked, her eyes widening, "Oh... Oh my god, I'm so sorry. You probably have no idea what I was just talking about, do you?"

Lorcan couldn't help but laugh, loving the way the girl's lips curled into a smile as he did so, "No, but it's fine. I can tell you're very dedicated. I'm Lorcan, by the way, Terrasen High Hawks."

"Terrasen High? Wait, Lorcan as in Lorcan Salvaterre?" she asked, brows raising. Lorcan knew he recognised her. He could have sworn she was in the year below him, he would remember her face anywhere.

"The one and only. You're a junior, right?" he replied, helping her skate back across the rink and toward the entrance. She reached for her skate guards as he remained on the ice. Slipping his hand to her elbow, he helped her balance as she stepped back onto the stone ground.

"Right. Elide Lochan, Perranth skating club," she smiled, sticking her hand out. Lorcan shook it happily, loving the warmth that radiated from her like electricity.

"Perranth is lucky to have you represent them," Lorcan smirked, biting down on his bottom lip. There was something about the girl before him, something that made him feel completely giddy inside. If his teammates saw him like this...

Elide rolled her eyes. Chocolate, Lorcan noticed, the perfect shade of swirly hazelnut. "Now you're just being kind!" she laughed, a melodic sound that he wished he could capture forever, "Thanks, by the way, for helping me up. I probably would have just laid there until my session was over."

Lorcan grinned, something he didn't do too often, "Well, you're lucky I was here. Couldn't have you catching a cold, can we? I heard hypothermia is a killer."

Pressing her lips together, Elide shook her head slowly, "No, I suppose we can't."

With an obnoxious slam, the doors to the rink swung open. The remainder of his team poured out, dressed and ready for their training session. A blur of green and silver, plus the grey, black and navy blue of Adidas sweatpants. Gavriel was at the front, the oldest on the team, his golden hair tied back in a bun and a grin on his face as he reached Rowan.

Rowan stood, patting Gavriel's shoulder and moving down the rows of chairs. "Lorcan," he called, heading toward the equipment cupboard in the corner of the rink, "Help me get the stuff out!"

They always borrowed sticks and pucks from whatever rink they were training at. Lorcan only used his own stick for final games, an object of good luck. They would also have to drag the goals out, setting them up to actually have something to shoot at.

Offering Lorcan a smile, Elide stepped back, rocking on her good foot, "So, I guess I'll see you around then?"

If he had his phone to hand, he would have asked for her number right there and then. But, he didn't. As she turned to walk up the steps toward the changing rooms, Lorcan called, "We have a game next Friday, will you be there?"

Elide stopped, looking over her shoulder and smirking, "Depends, are you inviting me?"

Pushing down the chuckle that tickled his throat, Lorcan nodded, "I am, and maybe we could hang out afterwards... Just the two of us?"

"Sure, sounds fun. See you Friday, then," Elide confirmed, turning almost immediately and rushing up the stairs.

Lorcan watched until she completely disappeared from view. He could smell the cinnamon and elderberries scent that lingered in her wake. Elide Lochan. Friday couldn't come sooner.

* * *

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#fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #sarah j maas #sjm #throne of glass #writing #elide x lorcan #elide lochan #elorcan fluff #elorcan au #elorcan fic #elorcan #lorcan salvaterre #figure skating #ice hockey #from lukov with love #from lorcan with love

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a-froger-epic · 3 years

Note

idk if you're still taking prompts but this scene just came to my head and since i cant seem to write at the moment, you should have it! So freddie finds a ring hidden away in his house or flat(your choice!) and realizes his boyfriend (I'm partial to froger, but you can pick who it is!) is planning to propose to him! It's so beautiful, he can't help but try it on, only for it to get stuck on his finger. And then his boyfriend walks in, and he panics, not wanting to ruin the proposal moment. He had to hide his hand and pretend he hasnt seen the ring.

Okay, here is a heartbreaking alternative take on the DoA verse when they were moving out of their little attic flat and had just broken up. aka. What a cute prompt, let me make it awful and angsty! :D

---

One of the drawers of the night stand was broken. The bottom had a habit of sticking inside the stand while the rest of the drawer came out, and when Freddie pulled it a little too hard, it did just that—through the gap between the front and the bottom of the drawer, which was still full of papers and a collection of Roger's clutter, something small fell to the floor with a quiet, metallic clang. Freddie sighed and looked around for it, expecting a button, most likely. Of those they'd had a fair few, from the clothes they'd been fixing up for the stall. But when his eye caught the gold glimmer and he turned to look, he discovered that it was a ring.

That was strange. Unlike himself, Roger didn't really like wearing rings. Said they bothered him when he was drumming. Freddie picked up the ring and inspected it in the afternoon sunshine falling in through the skylight. It was a simple gold band, but it looked solid and its shine suggested that it was no cheap imitation. Freddie tilted his head to the side, wondering where Roger might have got it and why he'd never seen it before. Without much thought, he slipped it onto his ring finger—it was a little tight, but it fit—and admired it there for a moment.

Until the sound of footsteps pulled him back to reality, which was that they were in the middle of hastily packing up their things. To move them out of this little attic abode they had shared, which was no longer theirs.

Nothing was theirs to share anymore now other than memories, Freddie thought and felt the dull ache of heartbreak return which had accompanied him all through these last days. Still, at least today there wasn't time to mope around. They were too busy for that, and Roger was coming up the stairs to fetch more of Freddie's things to leave on the sidewalk, to be loaded into the van when it arrived.

Freddie quickly pulled at the ring, trying to get it off, and winced. Oh shit. Maybe he'd underestimated how tight it was, because it refused to come off easily. He turned his back to the door and tried again, attempting to jiggle it a little, but it just would not budge. Shitshitshit.

"These fucking stairs." Roger pushed open the door which had stood ajar.

Freddie could hear him catching his breath and made one last attempt to slide the ring off, but the sort of panic that came with having got oneself trapped somewhere had set in now, and all it did was hurt.

"Feel free to help," Roger muttered behind him.

"Yes," Freddie replied curtly, and turned around, hands behind his back in what he hoped was a nonchalant manner. "I will, I was just... seeing if there's still, um. Things in the drawers. To pack away.”

Roger frowned and swept some hair out of his face, eyes slowly wandering from Freddie, to the nightstand, and back up to Freddie, where they narrowed. “Were you looking in my drawer?”

“Well, I-” Freddie licked his lips, gripping the ring on his finger tightly behind his back and still trying to twist it this way and that. “I was checking all of them, I wanted to see if I'd left anything of mine in... yours... and it's got to go back to my parents' house. The nightstand.”

“Yeah...” Roger looked back down at the open drawer and sighed, shaking his head. “Yeah, alright, it's mostly rubbish. I'll do it. If you can grab a couple of boxes and bring them down in the meantime?”

“Mmh,” Freddie hummed noncommittally and squeezed past him when Roger approached, looking around, his back now to Roger and his hand cradled against his chest. Except—he was being silly, really, wasn't he? What if Roger remembered the ring had been there? What if he started looking for it? And as soon as the bloody thing came off, Freddie was going to have to give it back to him anyway.

He turned back around. Roger had sat down in front of the night stand cross-legged, and proceeded to empty the contents of the drawer out onto the floor.

“Rog.” Freddie returned to him, watching him toss a few papers to the side.

“Yeah?”

“Um, this fell out when I opened it and, well, silly me, I just had to go and... try it on...” Freddie started speaking quickly and trailed off when Roger looked up at him. He stretched out his fingers and looked down at the ring, an abashed smile on his face before he pressed his lips together tightly.

“Oh.”

“It won't come off,” Freddie uttered apologetically. “I think it's stuck, I-” When he looked up at Roger, the look on the other man's face took him off guard. It was an odd expression. Roger was staring at the ring on his hand as though he wasn't sure whether he wanted to laugh or cry. Then his eyes flicked up to meet Freddie's, before he quickly turned away.

“Have you tried soap? That might do it.”

“Not yet.” Freddie knew him. Knew him well enough to hear when Roger was trying to sound a little too casual. But he had gone back to sorting the clutter in his drawer now, pointedly not looking at him. “I'll try that,” Freddie added, and took a few steps toward the bathroom.

A quiet huff behind him brought him to a halt and he turned back over his shoulder. “What?”

Roger just shook his head where he sat, looking down at a piece of paper. His hair hanging into his face, concealing it. “Why would you put it on?”

“I don't know, I didn't think, I just... Well, I thought it looked nice,” Freddie replied defensively, “you'll get it back, I promise.”

“Yeah,” Roger said simply, his voice tonless. “Good to know, I guess.”

“That you'll get it back?” Freddie asked, frowning and a little offended. What in the world did that mean? Did Roger think he was just going to steal it?

“No.” Tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, Roger looked up at him, the ghost of a smile on his lips and a faraway sort of look in his eyes. “That at least, you thought it was nice.”

“Why?” Freddie looked down at the ring, turning it on his finger. It did look nice there—and a second after he had uttered the question, the answer suddenly came to him like a painful punch in the gut. "Oh...”

“Why d'you think?” Roger spoke up at the same time, the bitterness and, above all, sadness in his tone now barely disguised.

“But...” Freddie kept staring at the ring, he didn't think he could bring himself to look up from it. “That's...”

“Stupid, yeah,” said Roger, exhaling a breath. “Guess it was just a stupid idea. Not like it was meant to really... mean anything, in that way.” He scoffed. “Not like it can.”

“No.” Freddie swallowed, and bit down on his tongue, watching the tiny specks of dust dance in the beam of light shining through the window on the roof.

Somewhere there, amidst the dust, danced the unspoken. The impossible. The thing that could not be, and now, never would be.

Freddie headed for the bathroom, and closed the door behind himself.

#Sort of #Alternative scene #Prompt fill #Angst #Froger

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maddieson-san · 4 years

Text

Abandoned WIP

I was digging through my scriverner files and I came across this little gem. Dated like 4 years ago... HAHA.

Her fingers were gripping at the edge, splinters of chopped off wood sticking beneath the flesh of her abused fingertips. Her nails dug in, gently scratching off, leaving ashen brown wood dust behind. She said her goodbyes - at least to her mother. She did not think her heart could handle any more farewells than that. The deep blue sky filled with puffy white clouds was staring back at her and all she had to do was jump in and she would be reunited with Inuyasha. It was her wish, her desire to see that forced the well opened once more. She did not know how she was aware of this, but this was the last time it would open.

Her last chance to be with Inuyasha.

All she had to do was jump in.

And yet there she stood, her knees scrapping, reddening, as she slopped back and forth, uncertain.

She would never see her mother again, or her brother - not even her grandfather. Buyo would be left without her as well. He would not. She would see him again. Of course, he would not be the same person but he would be there. That was fine. She had grown accustomed to his presence in her life, his friendship; there was no reason they could not have it the same way in the feudal era.

Her arms trembled as she finally dared to swing her legs over the edge, letting them dangle into the openness. Her heart was pounding, jolts of electricity traveling through her body while her mouth felt like cotton. Her blue skirt was blowing left and right, the gentle breeze from another world swinging it. She tucked a loose strand of ebony lock behind her ear and closed her eyes. Tears had been glistening in her eyes and with her eyelids shut, the first of many rolled down her cheeks. It was not the end, it was a beginning. Although those words did nothing to lessen the ache in her chest, the breathlessness in her lungs.

She exhaled, her lips pursed, and then she tilted forward.

But she never found the ground nor did she travel through the sky.

Her blue eyes flashed open and she looked down at her blue sweater covered chest. Arms. His arms. The black sleeves of his dressed shirt were not fooling her and she immediately recognized him. His nose was buried deep inside her hair, brushing up against her scalp. She wanted to speak but she was voiceless, the air pushed out of her lungs. All the while, tears were streaming down her face. He was not speaking either and yet, she could feel him exhale against her hair, the warm puff of breathe pushing the locks away from his mouth. She tipped backwards, leaning into his chest instead of into the emptiness.

A moment of silence surrounded them and it felt like an eternity.

“Kouga?” she murmured, her voice so quiet it might have been an illusion but he heard it. They were friends and yet his gesture did nothing but bring confusion to her hazed mind. He was holding her so tightly, so terrified that he might lose her. She was well aware that in the past Kouga had feelings for her but that was gone and this… well…it was as though he was afraid. She was just old little Kagome, someone he had known five hundred years ago. Why would he be afraid of losing her?

His guts were twisted, his words were stuck in his throat. It was sickening. He was sickening. He promised himself he would not do this. When he first saw her, he already knew the faith of this friendship. She would return to the mutt, marry him and die by his side. He knew it. He never intended on stopping her, he never meant to come to the shrine and yet there he was, ready to beg. He knew he couldn’t beg. But he did. The thickness in his throat was not wavering and his knees were weak. He did not even know how he had enough strength to keep her from plunging away from him forever.

He had been at the bottom of the stairs when he knew he had to stop her. He never used his speed, not in public, but he broke his rule for her. He made a dash for the well house and threw his arms around her, ready to jump in with her if it was a necessity. Although, all that would have done was leave him at the bottom of the well, his arms empty. And yet he would have done it, in one foolish attempt to keep her by his side. He could feel the nervousness pulsing through her aura, the flush of her skin, the sweat beads forming at the base of her neck. He was going to lose her; if he did not forget everything he was, she would jump down that well and never be his.

“Don’t go.”

-T-

Three years earlier.

Kagome drummed her fingers against her thigh, waiting.

#wip #abandoned #kogkag

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hystericalweenie · 4 years

Text

Just Another Day at the Office Series - New On the Job

George MacKay x Reader Series

Part Five: The Morning After

Masterlist

Summary: Y/f/n Y/l/n was job searching, looking for a new place to work as an escape to her, then, current job; she’d been denied every pitch she had, yet she worked her ass off with zero recognition. Writing was her passion and her dream job laid in the hands of a magazine company in the city. Will the combination of her sexual frustration and her competitive nature cause her to risk her biggest dream for a blue eyed coworker?

a/n: I have absolutely no personal experience in magazine/journalism career, so the information in this fic will be provided with the knowledge I have conducted from research. With that being said, please don’t be mad if this is not accurate!!! Sorry this was late compared to my daily uploading, I’ve been very busy these past few days!

Warnings: This is a slow burn fic, their relationship won’t happen in one night, so if you’re not into that, check out some of the beautifully written imagines that you can most likely find under the george mackayxreader tag. I might eventually write some of my own too :P At least one person’s saying “fuck” and there’s some sexual! tension! up! in! here!

I opened my eyes to my dark bedroom. The darkness of dawn leaked through my curtains, reminding me of the misery that was Monday. I hadn’t slept well that night, too many butterflies in my stomach disrupting my slumber. George’s head rested on my chest, his cheek in contact with my revealed skin. He’d been restless, switching into many positions that night, but as soon as his head hit my chest and his arms slung around me, he didn't move a single muscle. I brushed my fingers through his hair, twirling around some strands. I heard him release a deep breath, before cuddling his head further into my chest as if it were a pillow. He reminded me of a child cuddling their mother after a nightmare in this moment, and I was grateful I was able to see another side of him, an innocent and youthful side to him.

I felt his fingers drum against my sides, notifying me that he was awake. I smiled, removing my fingers from his scalp.

“Don’t stop,” he mumbled against my chest, his voice soft and raspy.

My cheeks flushed as I brought my fingers back to his scalp, earning a delightful moan from him. My eyes widened at the noise, my mind immediately swimming in filthy thoughts, but I quickly forced them away, because it was certainly not the time for intimacy; he needed a friend to be there for him, and I was that friend.

We laid there for a while in silence, my fingers tangling and untangling themselves in his locks, as I felt his warm breath against the skin of my chest. After these moments of bliss, my alarm on my phone went off, causing me to jump at the sudden interruption. I quickly grabbed my phone and turned the damned thing off, tossing it on the floor without a single worry. I quickly returned my fingers to his hair, as if nothing had interrupted our moment.

“As much as it hurts me to say this,” he spoke up, his raspy voice introducing itself to me again. “You need to go to work today, love.”

I groaned, watching as my fingers worked through the effortless blond waves.

“What if I just don’t go?” I suggested, my voice dry with exhaustion.

He lifted his head, turning it toward me as his chin rested on my chest, his eyes looking up at me. His lip had already started scabbing over, and his black eye looked more violet today, signifying that his face was beginning to heal. With his messy hair, his eyelids swollen with sleep, and his eyes looking up at me so innocently, my heart practically jumped out of my chest.

“Love,” he cautioned, his eyebrows knitting together.

My cheeks caught on fire at the way the word rolled off his lips so naturally, yet intimately. Love. I repeated it over and over in my head. I subconsciously pulled my bottom lip between my teeth as I stared down at him, absorbing his features as long as I could. I sighed, ending the moment, and removing my fingers from his hair.

“I need to, uhm, get ready,” I stammered, looking down at him.

He rolled himself off of me, reminding me of what it felt like without the weight of a six foot tall man sprawled on top me. I stood up from the mattress, stretching my body–moaning a little too loudly while doing so–and walking toward my bedroom door. I turned around, watching as George stayed in my bed with his hands behind his head, observing me.

“Do you want coffee or breakfast?” I offered, as he stared back at me.

“Are you going to cook me breakfast?” he joked, cracking a grin.

I rolled my eyes at the man.

“Coffee, it is,” I called, exiting the bedroom, biting back the smile that threatened to make its way onto my lips.

I started the pot, leaning on the counter as I waited for the machine to spew the liquid. I heard footsteps, making me turn around. Bree yawned, her mouth mimicking a lion’s roar. I smiled at her blond hair sticking out in multiple directions, her morning frown greeting me as she got her favorite mug out of the cabinet.

“Can you get two mugs out for me?” I asked her mindlessly, my eyes focusing back on the coffee machine.

“Two? You mean, on–” she stopped herself, her head whipping to me with wide eyes.

I looked back at her expression, visibly trying to hide my smile, as her jaw dropped to the floor.

Is George in your bedroom? she mouthed to me, her hazel eyes as big as could be.

I nodded slowly, causing her to jump up and down, looking as happy as I’d ever seen her in the morning. She realized what she was doing, before pouring herself a mug of coffee and quietly slipping back into her bedroom, mouthing a sorry. I rolled my eyes playfully at the girl, pouring two mugs of my own.

“How do you take your coffee?” I called to the boy, as I opened the refrigerator to retrieve the creamer for myself.

“Black,” he answered, surprising me with the closeness of his voice.

I turned around, watching as he pulled a seat out for himself at the small kitchen table, before sitting himself down. I handed him the steaming mug, before adding cream and sugar to my own. Closing the refrigerator with my foot, I took a seat next to him and sipped on the hot morning bliss, ignoring how it burnt my tongue.

“Dean and I called out of work yesterday,” he spoke up. “We’re hoping to see if we can convince Andrew to go to rehab.”

I furrowed my eyebrows at him, worrying that his plan might cause a repeat of what’d happened the night before.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” I proposed.

He nodded, taking another sip from his mug.

“Dean's there right now. He said that they’ve put him under some medications that’ll hold him off for a while.”

I reached my hand out, gently resting it on his shoulder as I looked at him with concern.

“I just want you to be okay,” I admitted, my eyes scanning over the bruised eye.

He put his hand over mine with a small smile, his eyes softening.

“Thank you, love. I mean it.”

The sounds of footsteps interrupted us, as Bree walked toward the refrigerator with a sheepish smile.

“I forgot cream,” she apologized.

I rolled my eyes at her, gesturing out toward the small blond girl.

“George, this is my roommate, Bree. Bree this is my, uhm...”

What was he?

“Coworker,” George corrected, reaching his hand up to form a small wave to the girl.

Was that all he thought he was to me? A coworker? My roommate and I exchanged anxious eyes, as if we were both thinking the same thing.

“I’m the guy that gave Y/n a place to crash that night at the bar,” he introduced, his tone sounding...almost, protective.

Bree scratched the back of her neck, still feeling guilty.

“Yeah, thank you for that, by the way,” she looked at him sincerely. “I’m still upset with myself for doing that to her.”

I looked at her, shaking my head.

“It’s fine, I already told you,” I insisted, bringing my mug up to my lips and gulping the energizing liquid. I wrapped my hands around the mug before standing up from the chair. “I should probably go take a shower,” I announced.

“I should probably get going as well, I need to clean myself up and meet Dean at the hospital,” George informed me, standing up from his chair as well.

“Do you need a ride?” I offered.

He shook his head.

“Nah, I drove here. Hopefully my car’s still outside, if it hasn't gotten towed yet,” he joked.

I nodded, making my way to my bedroom to grab the pool of clothes that sat on my floor, before he’d changed into the comfier fabrics. I returned back to the kitchen, holding them out with his shoes.

“Don’t want to forget these,” I reminded him.

He nodded, taking the clothes and making his way to the door. I followed him quickly, catching his attention.

“Can I, uh, walk you to your car?” I asked sheepishly, chewing on my lip.

He cracked a small smile, nodding. We silently made our way down the stairs, just like we had when I led him to the apartment earlier; there were no sounds, except for the echoes of our footsteps. We walked outside, the cold air surprising my warm skin as I hissed. His car had been still parked against the sidewalk, a little further down from where I’d found him sitting the night before. Once we reached his car, he turned toward me.

“Thank you,” he told me sincerely. “You took very well care of me last night, when you had absolutely no reasoning to.”

I shrugged. “I owed you one.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, as he looked down at me with a concerned expression.

“Is that the only reason why you took care of me last night, no questions asked? Because you owed me a favor?” he interrogated.

I was shocked at his question, my cheeks heating up and my eyes widening in surprise. I looked up at him, chewing on the skin of my bottom lip before answering. What is the point of lying again, I asked myself.

“I took care of you, because I wanted to,” I admitted. “When I saw the texts you sent me last night, I was so worried, I literally got my slippers on and ran out of the building as quickly as I could to find you.”

His eyebrows knitted together and his eyes softened, as he looked at me with admiration.

“Y/n, I don’t think you’re aware of what you’re doing to me,” he confessed.

I tilted my head in confusion, but he gave no further explanation.

“Go knock ‘em dead at work. Text me at lunch?”

I blushed at his words of encouragement and the fact that he wanted me to text him on my lunch break.

“Of course,” I promised him.

He reached for my hand, pressing his lips to the skin, before releasing it and entering the driver’s seat of his car. My body was frozen, completely paralyzed at the feeling of his lips against the back of my hand. He drove away, sending me a wink as he passed. And I stood there, on the pavement, looking like an idiot. I don’t think you’re aware of what you’re doing to me, what the hell did that mean?!

I was almost late to work, because of that man. But, I arrived just on time, staring across from me at the empty desk. I sighed, forcing my attention on the document of my pitch, memorizing what I’d say to Connie when the time came. I looked at the new articles that’d already come out that morning, reading for my own entertainment to pass the time before the meeting.

Once the inevitable hour passed, I made my way toward the conference room, this time without my brunette pal as my guide. Luckily, I was able to find the room, and I sat myself down next to Faith. She greeted me with a small smile, as I reciprocated her action and stared at the entrance of the room with anticipation. As more workers piled in, Connie stifled in with her assistant, making the butterflies in my stomach much more existent.

“Happy Monday everyone,” she greeted us, her voice monotone.

Starting with the beauty and fashion editors like the last time, my anticipation was building more and more as she discussed along the tables of the writers and editors. As soon as her head turned towards me, my heart practically sank to my stomach, her emerald eyes intimidating me.

“Print journalists? How about we start with you, Y/n,” she announced.

I cleared my throat anxiously before speaking.

“I was thinking about conducting an experiment with CBD oil, since that’s such a trendy product right now in the media, and I could write about it,” I explained, trying to exude as much confidence as I could under her stare.

She nodded after I spoke.

“That’s a nice idea, I’m surprised no one’s come up with that yet,” she admitted. “Try to work with a sub-editor on this, come up with some deadlines, and email me after. Anyone else?”

I smiled proudly at how well that’d gone. I looked forward to telling George about my succession on lunch, as the meeting flew by. Once I’d gotten back to my desk, I emailed Dean as soon as my fingers hit the keyboard.

Dean, Hopefully you have your email on your phone, because if not, then I’ll have to find another sub-editor that I actually like. Anyway, I have this idea for an article and I need your help to discuss deadlines and all that. Email me back when you get this... or actually I’ll see you if you don’t see this until you’re back in the office. Thanks. Y/n

I sent the email, keeping the tab open in case he’d respond. I began opening a document and writing an introduction/hypothesis to the experiment. I clicked back on the email tab, sighing in relief as I saw a notification from him.

Hi. Wifi’s shit where I am, so this might not send. What’s the experiment? What did Connie say about it? Also, you don’t need to be so proper sending emails to me. We sent memes to each other, remember?

I laughed, recalling the memory when he’d asked me for my email on my first day. I typed back immediately.

Message has been sent to me, though you’ve probably already figured that out by now. Experiment’s about trying CBD oil for the first time. Yes, I’m a millennial, how could you tell? Connie liked it, she said I should work closely with a sub-editor and email her all the details once we've finished coming up with deadlines.

I waited for him to respond, going back to writing again. After a few minutes, I received the notification.

Lol. I'm glad everything went well with Connie. Do you think four days would be a realistic deadline? Maybe take two days to write and research while doing the experiment, then two days for me to edit it and work with the art team for designs for the article? We can come up with a word count later. I’ll be in the office tomorrow and we can discuss this further. Just email Connie the main things and try to pick up and try that cdb or whatever shit up today. Srry if this sounds rushed, I’m a little busy right now.

I felt bad for intruding on Dean, as he was probably taking care of his friend.

I’m sorry for intruding on your day, just do what you have to do and we’ll work on this tomorrow. Thank you for everything you were able to help me with.

I emailed Connie right away before starting my research. I took important notes, cited some quotes to important articles online, and included some of my own pre-knowledge as well. I, then, looked at some of the best CBD products on Amazon, before settling on a roll-on oil and ordering it to the apartment, paying extra for a one-day delivery.

Once lunch had rolled around, I made a salad in the small cafeteria and ate at my desk, pulling my phone out while I ate.

Me: Had a pitch today, it went sooo well. How are things with you?

He responded almost instantly.

George: That’s fantastic, Y/n! We’re at a rehabilitation facility, staying here while Andrew gets checked in. After this, probably going to go out and buy some groceries for dinner, maybe get some more ingredients for a recipe I can teach you.

Me: I would love that! Would tonight work?

George: As long as it does for you x

George: I slept amazing last night, even in that tiny bed of yours.

Me: You make it sound like I sleep on a twin mattress.

George: A full is almost like a twin, right?

George: Did you like my big bed better?

Me: Considering I don’t even remember sleeping in it, I’m not sure. Remember, I woke up in that bed with absolutely no recollection of that night whatsoever.

George: You would love my mattress, it’d practically swallow you up.

You know what else I’d like to swallow me up... Stop it Y/n!

Me: Are you sure you’re okay? With the whole Andrew thing going on...

George: Being with you helps get my mind off of it, so I think tonight is a good idea. I can’t necessarily say I’m okay right now, but I will be. He realized that he has to get better, and he’s finally taking the step to do that, and that’s already much more progress.

Me: Okay... If I can at least take your mind off of things, then let’s make dinner a definite tonight. I’m here for you, George, however you need me.

Did that sound too vulnerable? I wasn’t sure, but the more time George and I spent together, the less I cared about taking risks.

George: That means more to me than you’ll ever know, love.

When I got home from work, I took a shower to freshen myself up–despite having already taken one in the morning–before dressing myself in a tight turtleneck top with high wasted jeans and a pair of my favorite heeled leather booties. I styled my hair in waves before leaving the house and, finally, receiving a text from George with his address. As I drove with anticipation, I wondered what he was wearing, and maybe I’d overdressed myself. As I approached the familiar apartment, I parked my car behind the building before letting him know I was there.

He welcomed me within minutes, leading me up to his apartment. He was dressed in jeans and a maroon sweater, the color going well with his skin tone and hair. I wondered what would happen that night, as we entered his cozy, yet luxurious apartment.

But, I had no idea what that night had in store for me.

#george mackay #george mackay x reader #x reader fic #fanfic #fanfics #1917 cast #1917 #dean charles chapman

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blurry-fics · 4 years

Text

Lose You

Pairing: platonic!Josh Dun x Reader

Warnings: All appropriate warnings are tagged to avoid spoilers in the format tw; trigger

Word Count: 1620

Request: At the end to avoid spoilers!

Author’s Note: I just want to give you all a fair warning that most of the upcoming Josh posts are very angsty, though there are a few fluffy ones thrown into the mix :) I hope you enjoy this one! (picture credit)

Tyler: have you heard from josh today?

You stared blankly at the message for a moment, running over every text and direct message you had received over the course of the day. It wasn’t unusual for you and Josh to go a few days without talking to one another - between your teaching and his music, it could be hard to find time - but the fact that Tyler was messaging you didn’t sit quite right. After double checking that your memory was correct, you texted him back.

Y/N: last time i heard from him was yesterday morning, but it was just one message. silence since then

Tyler: shoot, i thought he must have been with you

A shiver ran along the length of your spine as you typed out another message.

Y/N: is everything ok?

Tyler: he was supposed to be at the studio an hour ago and nobody has heard from him

You were on your feet as soon as you finished reading the message, gathering up your keys and a jacket and figuring out where you had left your shoes. Josh never skipped studio time unless it was really important or really serious. That, on top of the fact that he wasn’t answering messages, put a bad taste in your mouth.

You finally texted Tyler back once you were down the stairs of your apartment building and walking across the parking lot to your car. Your fingers were moving almost as fast as your feet.

Y/N: i’m going to see him, i’ll check in with you soon

Tyler: i don’t think that’s a good idea

You rolled your eyes and opened your car door, tossing your phone into the passenger seat. What was your other option? Sit around while Josh potentially needed somebody to be there for him?

At least you were doing something to help rather than just sitting around at the studio.

You checked your phone one more time before getting out of the car, just to make sure Josh hadn’t suddenly texted and let you know you were overreacting. The only messages were from Tyler, sent a few minutes ago.

Tyler: y/n?

Tyler: i just wanted to know if you had heard from him. i’m sure he’s fine, i didn’t mean to worry you.

“Too late for that,” you scoffed as you slid your phone into your pocket. Your car keys jingled as you pulled them out of the ignition.

Loud music was audible as you walked up the front steps of Josh’s house. You took that as a good sign, at least he was home if nothing else. Now you just had to figure out if he would talk to you about why he hadn’t gone to the studio.

Y/N: front door

It wasn’t uncommon for him to not hear you knocking when he was playing music or practicing the drums, so you had gotten into the habit of texting him when you came over. It worked nine times out of ten.

The music suddenly became too quiet for you to hear and before you knew it, the front door was swinging open. You couldn’t help the frown on your face as you finally got a glimpse of Josh. His brightly colored hair was messy and unwashed where you could see it sticking out from under the hood of his sweatshirt. The sweatshirt itself was too big, practically swallowing him up. All of this paled in comparison to his swollen eyes and the deep bags beneath them.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. His voice was hoarse.

“Do you really need to ask that?”

He sighed and stepped to the side, giving you enough room to come inside. While you kicked off your shoes, he shut and locked the front door once again.

“Why didn’t you call me?” you asked as you made yourself comfortable on the couch. “And what’s going on with you?”

Josh sat back down in a pile of blankets that it looked like he hadn’t moved from in a few days. It was already perfectly molded to the shape of his body, making it easy for him to get comfortable again. He avoided your eyes as he answered your question.

“Addy broke up with me,” he said. There was no emotion in his voice. “Said it wasn’t going to work.”

“Oh, Josh,” you frowned, standing up and moving to the other couch to be closer to him. He leaned into you. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine. I’m over it.”

You had never heard someone sound less “over it”.

“How long ago did it happen?”

“Couple days.”

“Why didn’t you call me? I would have come over here in a heartbeat.”

“I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Josh,” you sighed. His breathing started to get uneven, so you rubbed his shoulder to calm him back down. “You’re never a bother. Breakups are hard and, just like every other one, I want to be here for you. You know the drill, we order your favorite food, watch some X-Files, and inevitably end up falling asleep together on the couch.”

He shook his head, “This time was different.”

“Why?”

“It just was.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I can’t.”

Josh’s voice broke on the last syllable. You fully wrapped your arms around him and pulled him closer, rubbing your hand up and down his back. His whole body was shaking as he cried, but you just held him and tried to keep him as calm as you could. He had never been this upset by a breakup before. Or at least, not in a long time.

How could Tyler have possibly thought it was a bad idea for you to be here?

Josh mumbled something into your shoulder, but it was too muffled for you to hear. When you asked him to repeat it, he turned so that you would actually be able to understand what he was saying. Still, it was barely more than a whisper.

“I cheated on her, Y/N.”

It took you a second to process what he had just said. Even then, you couldn’t believe it. Josh - the sweetest boy you knew, the only one who had been there for you through everything, your best friend - had cheated? He couldn’t be serious.

You pushed Josh away from you and stood, somehow managing to stay steady on your shaking legs. He was looking up at you, his eyes brimmed with tears. He looked so hurt, so innocent, but a bad taste still filled your mouth when you thought about what he had said.

“Tell me you’re lying,” you said, your own voice shaking now. “Tell me it’s a joke.”

“I wish I could, Y/N. More than anything, I wish I could.”

“What the hell, Josh?”

“It was a lapse in judgement, I swear. I wish I could take the entire thing back. She invited me over for lunch and I didn’t think anything of it and then I was there and one thing led to another…”

“Addy loved you more than anything,” you said. You barely knew the girl, but you were ready to defend her to the ends of the Earth.

“You think I don’t know that?” Josh yelled. You recoiled; he never raised his voice at you. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have raised my voice.”

“I can’t believe you.” You hastily wiped away a tear with the back of your hand. “You’re sick.”

“No, please,” he said, grabbing onto your arm. “I can’t lose you too.”

You pulled your arm away, ignoring his plea. “That’s why you didn’t call me, isn’t it? Because you wanted to run away from the reality of what you did.”

“Just let me explain.”

“And Tyler knew, didn’t he? That’s why he didn’t want me to come!” you buried your face in your hands. “It all makes sense now.”

“Y/N-”

“What?” you snapped.

“I wasn’t trying to hide anything from you. I feel awful about what I did and I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to forgive myself. The reason Addy found out is because I told her. This isn’t some big thing that I’m trying to cover up, I just needed to find the right way to tell you.”

“You cheated, Josh, that’s the bottom line. You had two choices and you decided to cheat. I’m glad you fessed up, but it doesn’t mean you’re suddenly forgiven.”

There was a pause. Josh was avoiding looking at you. You, meanwhile, were so upset that you could feel your hands trembling. For a moment, you thought he wasn’t going to say anything.

“So you’re not going to forgive me?” he asked. His voice was quiet again.

“Not right now.”

“But eventually?”

You took a deep breath, thinking over your next words carefully. Was this enough to end a long standing friendship over?

“I don’t know.”

Josh nodded. “I can respect that.”

“I’m going to go now. I’m glad you’re safe.”

You walked out of the room and gathered your things in record time. Your heart was still pounding as you laced up your shoes and dug your keys out of your sweatshirt pocket. Just as you opened the front door, Josh called out to you.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for checking on me. I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome.”

You stepped out onto the walkway and shut the door behind you. As soon as the lock clicked, you took a moment to breathe in and let yourself feel everything that you had been keeping carefully bottled up while you talked to Josh. It felt like your heart was being pulled in all directions.

This was not going to be an easy decision.

Request: Hi I don't know if asks are still open but if they are could you do a Josh Dun x reader where the readers there every time Josh goes through a break up to like comfort him and stuff but then he cheated on his ex and the reader gets pissed and it's just angst (ok thanks bye🖤) -@that-one-sad-theater-kid

#josh dun #josh dun x reader #josh dun angst #twenty one pilots #twenty one pilots angst #josh dun imagine #josh dun drabble #josh dun fanfiction #twenty one pilots x reader #twenty one pilots imagine #twenty one pilots drabble #twenty one pilots fanfiction #tw; infidelity #tw; cheating #tw; profanity #angst #skeleton clique #blurry-fics

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araingirl · 3 years

Text

That’s how they met

“Ding!"

The silver bells rang for the first time after the veneration of the destruction, for the worship of the celebration. Joss-sticks started emanating aromatic smokes, dipped inside the clay pots. The priests flapped the horsehair fly whisks in front of the holy idol. Lamps kindled, flowers discharged the fragrance and ribbons swayed. Sitting in diamond pose, the chocolate-haired girl drummed the strings of the koto. Melodious jingles of hundreds of untold words sprang from the speechless instrument. The priests chorused:

If you are searching for your lover,

Lose yourself, oh crazy, before everything is over.

If you are searching for your lover,

Lose yourself, oh crazy, before everything is over.

The coco-haired princess opened her mouth. The streams of one thousand cataracts originated from her vocal cord, defeating the tunes of the harp-like instrument. Everybody closed their eyes.

The ways to your abode, oh my lord,

Are just the tales of love,

They're just the legends of romance,

The words of River Fuji.

I recite those words, again and again,

It's nothing but your mercy...

Completing his bath, the slate-haired young man was returning to the temple yard. Suddenly, the magical world composed by a feminine tone chimed inside his ears, overthrowing the chirpings of the birds and the whisperings of the airstream. He felt as if someone had poured cold water inside his veins. Flurries fought against the wetness of his smoky bangs and made them blow. Spellbound, the prince started progressing to the temple. He entered the sanctuary building from the right side. Sitting down on the agate ground, he folded one of his knees and kept another laying horizontally. Propping his head against a flower-wrapped column, he drowned to the river of tunes.

The owner of the honeyed tone continued:

Coming to your reverence, the world is still,

But I'm weightless, because your wishes are guarding me.

But where there is no wish, the life is a desert.

Yet, desert is a flower to me,

As I've lost myself, I've lost myself...

No, the owner of the anonymous songs! You haven't lost yourself. It's I who...who have got lost completely. Your voice is divine; it is the constant truth of the world. I...I can portray you by your tone. I...I cannot see you but paint an image of you on the canvas of my heart. The image is like a starry night; it is embracing me but I cannot hug it back.

Oh tunes! The tunes springing from an unknown voice! You've claimed the seat of my familiarities without being familiar. How perfect you are! You've blossomed like a flower on my arid heart of restlessness...but how strange! You didn't let the waterless land tremble a bit. You didn't melt it, just left it flowered.

The final tune escaped from the instrument as the guy opened his eyes. Not waiting there for a single moment, he descended the stairs. The chocolate-haired girl looked back, noticing the white scarf swaying in the airstream. Her heart skipped a beat, thunderbolts entered her spine. Jolted, she stood up. Leaving her cousins and relatives, she ran downstairs with her lithe feet. Stretching her left arm, she yelled:

"Wait!"

The lord of love became satisfied with her. He turned to her, accepting her wish. Then...

Everything came to a standstill. Wind stopped blowing, birds ceased singing. Flowers looked at them, baffled. His amethysts imprisoned her rubies in their prison without touching them. Both the guard and the prisoner got lost in each other. He appeared from the flowery vines just like the moon, removing all the clouds of the nightly sky.

She gazed at him. The eyelashes of her didn't touch her cheeks. Who was standing in front of her? His hair was two-toned, just representing the skies of sunshine and rainclouds...no no, the skies of days and nights. His face was bright...what? The moon beneath the clouds? The orbs...they were just like purple lotuses growing in any translucent pond, floating under the twin racy icy-blue bows, the thick peaks rising a bit in surprise and slim corners dissolving with the fairness of his skin. Did the surface of moon have ponds? If it had and lotuses grew there, it wouldn't be less similar to the face of the Russian. His scarf was still dancing, winking at her with its invisible eyes. Droplets of the water of river Fuji were still trickling down from his bangs. Broad round shoulders bore the invisible weight of his valor, blue-veined throat had the white twirling scarf at its bottom, keeping the slightly curvy Adam's apple over it. Though it was a sunny day, the brunette felt as if it had been raining in front of her. Even in the rain, the appealing moon was there. There was so much peace on his face that it could even cool the fire. Obvious it was because the one who had to handle the fire always had to remain cool.

Flashback:

A forest. To be clearer, a lane inside a forest. Trees and bushes were by both sides of it, getting mixed with the daylight, embodying an unparalleled combination of light and shadow. In the narrow lane, there was a white horse. On it, a man was sitting, looking back. His hair was two-toned, just like the clouds before rain. His complexion was reminding them about the mixture of milk and turmeric paste. Beneath his fixed eyebrows, there were his eyes, looking like abloom lotuses floating on the surface of a clear pond. He was wearing a pair of comfy baggy trousers, tucked inside his boots and a full-sleeved black top, with purple and grey linings. The upper garment wasn't loose at all, clearly exposing his biceps, triceps and broad shoulders. The white scarf wrapped around his neck was seeming to blow.

Every stroke, every line, every touch of the brushes and colors in the picture was more than perfect. That was ethereal.

Flash forward:

Before her eyes, the creepy jungle of her dream appeared. But it wasn't eerie anymore. The savior was standing there, facing her. It wasn't a dream. It was more than that. It was reality. That was ethereal, so was it.

The moon should have smiled at her. But...why was it seeming baffled?

Perhaps, she didn't know that his amethyst orbs were fulfilling their thirst, quenching the elixir showered by her rubies. The temple, the garden, the instruments-everything disappeared. He found himself in the same jungle where he had roamed in his dreams before twelve years. Her feet were playing tabors there. Her chocolate tresses were playing hide and seek with the air. Her hair was tied into a loose bun. She was wearing a yellow kimono painted with magenta andrika symbols, supported by a broad magenta belt which created a bow behind her back. A pair of kite-shaped fuchsia earrings were dangling from her earlobes, rimmed with gold. Azaleas and golden daisies were tucked inside her hair, over her right ear.

He had seen her before. In the dawns of the late autumn, in the ingratiating nights of the spring.

Flashback:

He was running. His fair feet were smiting the surface of mother earth recklessly. But he couldn't catch her. He was sweating and wheezing. His lungs were craving for oxygen. But he didn't stop. He couldn't stand and rest for a sole second. In front of him, she was also running. But she wasn't panting. She wasn't exhausted. The echoes of her laughter were like the aftershocks of ever-flowing cataracts, rolling down from the crests of high, higher and highest mountains of the world. With her every step on the ground, green grasses were growing. Little but colorful flowers were being upstretched and peeking at the sky. With her slight touch, a leafless tree started growing green leaves. Birds sat on it and began to tweet.

"Wait!" He yelled, "Stop!"

As she heard him, she stopped and turned back at his figurine. Seeing her standing, he also quitted running and stood motionlessly. Her chocolate-colored hair was touching her waist. In the tempo of ever-dancing squall, her auburn locks were also boogying. A pair of irreplaceable rubies were observing him very carefully, situated at the sockets of her eyes. The complexion of her skin reminded the slate-haired boy of the mixture of milk and honey. The rays of sunshine fell on her skin and the succession of those protoderm cells shimmered like solitaires.

He couldn't utter a single word. He silently kept watching her without closing his eyes for once. Every single hair on his body got straightened. He felt warm despite standing on the veneer of his own motherland. In front of her sharp scrutiny, he couldn't stand anymore.

Flash forward:

They both felt like the trees whose roots went deep inside the soil. That's why, they couldn't move, nor their orbs. Eyes felt contented getting the treasury of eyes. From the magical streets of their visions, they found each other's ways towards the spiritual realms of each other's hearts. The color of blood started spreading across their cheeks. Getting the hint, again the birds started singing, flying around them. Flowers bloomed and leaves danced. Bumblebees played their flutes. Nature borrowed the color of love...

"Princess!"

Hearing the familiar masculine voice, the chocolate-haired girl gasped, struggling to emerge from the imaginary world. Her vision met the red-haired Russian who was standing behind his cousin. Startled, the dual-haired prince also turned back.

"Greetings, princess..." He spoke, "Can you recognize me? We met in the refugee camp of sage Dickenson, remember?"

Smiling, the brunette nodded. The redhead continued, "You were willing to meet my cousin. Well, he's my cousin, Kai Alexander Hiwatari. He banned the culture of sacrificing the childless widows in Russia, killed Katherine as well as her force and freed lady Kincaid from the spells of Boris Balkov. Kai, she's Hilary Tachibana, the princess of Japan. She's the one for whom the dwellers of the camp were so calm and relaxed. We used to eat the delicious foods cooked by her."

Like a humble vine, the brunette bowed. Slowly bending down a bit, the phoenix-prince took her right hand and placed a tender kiss on its back, reddening her more. The redhead rolled his eyes at that.

Except his mother and mother-like figures, for the first time, he had lowered his head before a lady.

"Returning from the camp..." Hilary started, "I was feeling worried."

Kai flinched inaudibly. Was he hearing the truth? Had someone been really worrying for him?

"Hilary didn't enjoy a single wink of sleep at that night, prince Hiwatari," Someone's voice could be heard, "Only after getting the news of your victory, she sighed in relief."

Both the boys and the girl looked back. There was the dual-haired princess of Spain standing with a bright smile all over her face.

"Greetings, the princes of Russia," She spoke, bowing, "I'm Julia Fernandez, the princess of Spain and the maternal cousin of Hilary."

"Greetings, princess Fernandez," The redhead glanced at her, "Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too, prince..."

"Valkov." Tala finished, "My name is Tala Valkov."

Julia looked at the redhead, narrowing her eyes. How red his hair was! Did someone put fire on his head?

"I mean... I was getting worried for everyone," The brunette cleared her throat, flushing, "But when I got to know the news of Katherine's death, I felt relieved. Thank you so much for saving my motherland, prince."

"The pleasure is mine," Kai responded, "The victory of truth is inevitable, princess."

"I know..." The Japanese princess nodded, "Specially when the representatives of truth are fearless and skilled."

The tiny praise sprinkled vermillion on the moon-like face of the slate-haired prince. Smirking, he lowered his gazes. His amethysts roamed over her lily feet. Her nails were shot and pink, pouring cold water in his eyes.

"Anyways," Tala interrupted, "Kai, I came here with a view to informing you that His Majesty of Hayashi Tachibana has called sage Dickenson to his place. Sir Dickenson has decided to take us with him. So, let's go. See you, princess."

"See you too, prince." Hilary smiled. Leering back, the redhead almost dragged his cousin towards the palace. Before leaving, the phoenix-prince didn't forget to look at the chocolate-haired girl. Blushingly, the auburn-haired princess moved back to the temple.

.....................................................................

One of the most magnificent KaiXHilary moments from my KaiHil story “Kingdom”. Don’t forget to read and review it :P

#beyblade #kaihiwatari #hilarytachibana #hiromitachibana #KaiXHilary #kaihil #kingdom

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the-jade-cross · 3 years

Text

Journey to Middle Earth - Chapter 15

Summary – What if JRR Tolkien never gave Thorin a love story… because the person that was meant to be Thorin’s was not yet born when he wrote the Hobbit? Sara journeys from her world to Middle Earth after an accident, with a mission. To change something about the Hobbit story… but she is not sure what. What she does not know is that while trying to prevent something from happening, something new might arise between her and the dwarf prince….even if it is not on the agenda!

Warnings – None, no explicit scenes, some kissing, violence, frightening creatures, mentions of abuse.

Pairings – Thorin Oakenshield x OC

Sara was completely out of breath when she reached the bottom of Ravenhill. She could hear the battle roaring behind her and above her, Azog’s voice calling out orders to his men on what to signal to the troops. Sara knew that because it took her thirty full minutes to get this far, she only had about ten extra to get in position before Thorin arrived with backup. Reaching to her bag, she drew out her pistol and made sure it was fully loaded with the remaining three bullets before sticking it into her belt against her back. Next, she drew out the extra jacket she brought in case it was cold and golly it was! Pulling it on, she buttoned it up and then rolled her bag up in a ball, placing it behind a large rock and covering it with stones so it wouldn’t get in her way.

She then proceeded to quietly climb the steep incline to the frozen river and lake above, keeping her eyes and ears open for orcs or Azog. She had just slipped to the ledge that looked up at the top of Ravenhill when she heard a battle cry below and the sound of yak hooves… Thorin, Fili, Kili and Dwalin!

She sighed and ran her fingers over her covered stomach fondly, “It’s okay babies. Daddy will be here soon, and everything will be okay.”

“Sara?” a voice asked from behind her.

Sara looked over her shoulder and all the broken pieces of her heart reassembled and healed back together at the sight behind her. There stood Thorin, wearing just his pants, boots and the navy blue jacket Bard had given him. Sara could see the little stitch marks where Nori had woven mithril into the fabric. Good!

Thorin’s face was one of shock, surprise, joy, pain, hope and smitten adoring love. He was panting slightly and Orcrist was black with blood but he was unharmed. Sara couldn’t even breathe out his name but instead let out what sounded like a mixture of a cry and a gasp. Spinning around, she rushed to Thorin and the dwarf had just enough time to open his arms when Sara flung herself at him, arms wrapping around his neck, hands weaving into his black hair, nose buried in his neck and chest shaking with joyous sobs. Thorin’s strong arms encased her and his face found refuge buried in her red curls.

“I thought I lost you,” Thorin choked, clutching her close.

“You never lost me… I was just waiting for you to throw down your crown and find yourself,” Sara said, pulling away to cup his cheeks, watching as tears sprung to his blue eyes and trickled down his cheeks.

“How did you know I threw…” Thorin began but then smiled, “Oh right… you already knew.”

“Well I was still afraid,” Sara admitted, feeling tears prick her eyes, “I was afraid you wouldn’t overcome it like in the story… I thought… I thought I had failed and…”

Thorin cut off her tearful rantings, grasping her cheeks, “no, no, no! If anything, I failed you both as a husband and as the father of our children. I should have listened and been stronger for you. I love you so much and I failed you. Forgive me…”

Sara let out a sobbing laugh before crushing her lips to his, their tears mingling upon their lips as they caught up on all that they had been deprived of for days.

“Are you…” Thorin whispered, almost nervously, “Are you really with child?”

Sara smiled and taking Thorin’s large hands, placed them over her rounded womb, “not with child… but with children.”

Thorin’s head snapped up to look at her and his eyes glowed while a huge grin broke across his face, “Two of them!?”

Sara barely nodded before Thorin swept her up into his arms while he showered her lips, neck, nose, cheeks and forehead with kisses. Finally setting her down, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips, he held her gently by the waist.

“Aralime,” he muttered against her lips, sending butterflies through her heart. “You are too good for me.”

Sara went to reply when she felt a small jolt in her gut and she looked at Thorin worried, “Where are Fili and Kili!?”

“They are fine,” Thorin assured her gently, “I sent them to scout the tower for signs of the orcs. Blasted Azog disappeared.”

Sara swallowed but knew she couldn’t tell Thorin anything when suddenly she heard Dwalin rushing toward them with Bilbo on his tail.

“Thorin! Sara! Azog is here!” Dwalin cried.

“Bolg has a second army coming from the North, they will be here in seconds,” Bilbo panted. “We will be trapped here.”

Thorin’s eyes widened, “He wanted us here… this is a trap…”

Then it came… the sound of pounding drums that only aided in making Sara’s heart drop… oh no…

The four of then turned to the tower, only to see the glow of torches as Azog walked to the edge with a few orcs flanking him, a young dwarf grasped in his grip. Sara was not prepared for what she saw… it wasn’t Fili…. But Kili!

“No….” she gasped. Where was Fili!? What happened to change this!?

Azog began to speak in black speech before lifting Kili to hold him over the edge of the cliff. While the three males gasped and stared in horror at the scene, Sara crouched down behind Thorin’s figure and slipped her gun from her belt before lifting it and aiming… she needed to make a perfect shot that would not hit Kili but strike the Magnesium beneath Azog… a little to the left… up… avoid Kili’s flailing legs… click the safety off… gun loaded and ready? Yes… now… fire…

A loud crack sounded as Sara pulled the trigger… then silence…

*******

That silence… It was the silence you endured when waiting for someone to answer the phone… that silence you feel when you load your mail to see if you got that email… waiting for your teacher to tell you if you passed or failed the test. That silence when you think you just failed your greatest purpose and all eyes were on you… then that crackle, the spark that signals that not all hope is lost.

Sara smiled, watching Azog who looked around for the source of the noise, unaware that the noise was beneath his feet. When the magnesium erupted beneath him, all the orcs began to scramble away but Azog wouldn’t let go of Kili’s coat! Sara lifted the gun again and aimed, biting her lip. For any one listening, guide my hand. The second shot sounded, directly followed by Azog rearing in pain as he clutched his hand which was now bleeding horribly. He released Kili and the dark haired dwarf plummeted toward the rocks below. Sara’s heart stopped beating for a full second when Kili’s body made contact with the ground… but his body barely touched it when the muscovite gave way and there was a splash and the sound of said dwarf spluttering water from his mouth.

Sara beamed when Kili’s head emerged from the hole soaking wet. She saw Bilbo, Dwalin and Thorin staring at her in stunned silence.

“That’s one down,” Sara observed, pocketing her pistol.

When Bilbo rushed over to Sara, telling her how brilliant she had bene, Thorin looked to the tower where Azog was disappearing into the shadows.

“Fili!” Thorin yelled, realizing he couldn’t see his second nephew!

As he ran across the ice toward the tower, Dwalin called after him and followed.

Sara turned to Bilbo and placed her dagger in his hand, “Stay safe,” she said before running off.

“Oh, great. Just leave the hobbit here…” Bilbo mumbled.

*********

Find Fili, find Fili… Find Fili; Sara kept repeating it over and over in her mind as she wove through the hallways of the tower. Luckily she had not encountered many orcs and the ones she had got a good taste of dual sword steel. She needed to find Fili… and Kili! Knowing them, they hadn’t stayed put wherever they were!

“Fili!” she called, “Kili!”

Her voice echoed off the stone walls and she got no reply. Running around two corners, she went to call their names again but another feminine voice beat her to it.

“Kili!” which was followed by the unmistakable voice of Kili… oh no…. Bolg time!

Sara sprinted blindly toward the voices, hoping beyond hope that when she got there, Tauriel was not on the ground and Bolg’s pike was not through Kili’s chest.

Crap! She should have told Nori to weave Mithril into Kili’s clothes too! Please oh please let this not happen! She could barely see the ground beneath her feet as she sprinted through the tower, tears streaming down her face, red curls in her eyes and her swords in her hands, black with orc blood.

When she came stumbling down the flight of stairs, she saw Kili jump from a ledge onto Bolg’s shoulders but the dwarf missed Bolg’s head! She was in time. Sara took in the scene. She saw Tauriel on the ground holding her leg which was definitely sprained and Fili was crouching over her, sword in hand and ready to pounce to his brother’s rescue only for Bolg to throw Kili from his back and straight into the blond dwarf who cushioned his brother’s fall.

Both boys scrambled to their feet and reached for their weapons when Sara called out, making herself known.

“Hey! You witless worm!” she could resist using Thorin’s famous line he had spoken to Smaug in Erabor not three days prior.

Bolg’s huge figure turned to the girl who stood under the archway, opposite the two dwarves and the she-elf, Bolg smack dab between the two parties. The orc grumbled with joy at the prospect of another kill.

“I don’t suppose you know English?” Sara inquired.

As Bolg approached her, she looked at Fili and Kili who were watching with saucers as eyes, Tauriel confused by Sara’s presence but also horrified at the dangerous situation she was in.

“Trip him,” Sara muttered to the three, ignoring the approaching figure of Bolg.

“What?” Fili shouted in horror when he saw how close Bolg was to Sara.

Sara slowly sheathed her two sords before touching the pistol hidden in the back of her belt beneath her tunic. “Trip him,” she said again with a firm confident voice.

When Fili and Kili saw the small black contraption in Sara’s hands, they caught on and while Kili pulled the immobilized Tauriel out of the way, Fili got up and stuck out his foot, readying himself. Sara saw that they understood but when she went to meet the black eyes of the giant orc, all she saw was white… a searing pain clutching her chest and the air getting caught in her lungs. She heard the blood curdling screams of Fili and Kili, the sound of Bolg grunting in satisfaction… and then the click of the safety button, the pressure of the trigger beneath her finger and then the power of the gun went off with a bang. She heard the distant yell from Bolg and then the stumbling of feet, the sound of a voice plummeting over the edge… and then the hard ground beneath her back and then darkness overtook the white light.

********

Thorin gasped. How was this even possible? He had been pinned underneath Azog’s huge body, Orcrist being the only thing between his chest and Azog’s pike. He had chosen to do the last thing from sanity and slipped Orcrist away, allowing Azog to pierce him but using the now free elven blade to bury into Azog’s heart. Thorin had rolled over so Azog’s limp body was beneath him as he drove Orcrist deeper. As he watched the orc’s breathing falter, he awaited the warm feeling of his blood seeping through his clothes… but none came.

Rising to his feet, he touched his abdomen but the navy-blue tunic he wore was untouched. No pierce hole… not even a scratch! Was Azog’s blade blunt? No… he checked it and the blade was razor sharp. He should have been dead… the pike could have skewered a wild boar! (Hehe, sound familiar;)) Thorin continued to pat himself, expecting a wound to appear when he noticed that the seams of the tunic had been torn and new thread had sewn it back together. Grabbing the hems, he ripped it and he saw what lay between the two thin layers of the coat… Mithril! But how? It was not by coincidence that the mithril ended up there, protecting him from death! Wait… Sara!

She knew! She… did that mean… he would have died then? She knew it… and she saved him… Thorin’s one-sided conversation with himself was brought to an end when a yell of misery echoed through the whole of Ravenhill… that was Fili!

Grabbing Orcrist, Thorin sprinted across the ice and up the stairs toward the sound. When he found his eldest nephew, he feared that he would find Kili down and wounded but what he saw made his heart stop and his breathing falter. There stood the red-haired she-elf, holding a thrashing Kili back as the young dwarf fought against her arms to get to Fili, tears streaming down his face and a scream ripping from his throat in a frenzy of agony. Kneeling nearby was Fili who had his head bowed, tears soaking his short beard, his shoulders heaving with sobs. And there, lying on the cold stone with her limp head in his lap was Sara. Her red curls plastered from sweat to her face, one hand limp at her side and the other wrapped limply but protectively around her abdomen. Her swords were sheathed and lying on the ground was her pistol, still smoking from the shot.

Thorin let out an ear piercing cry before running to them, falling to his knees next to Fili who allowed his uncle to pull Sara from his arms. Thorin cradled her body to him desperately as he rocked back and forth soothingly.

“no! This cannot happen… please… please don’t leave me… please…”

Sara did not respond, and her piercing blue orbs remained closed as Tauriel finally released the frantic Kili who fell into Fili’s empty arms in a fit of heart wrenching sobs.

“Thorin!” A voice cried as several figures approached.

A small figure sprinted over and fell on the other side of Sara, touching her limp hand and Thorin barely noticed the red curls of Ryder as he stared at his sister, too shocked to speak.

Bilbo rushed over next, clutching something in his arms, “I found this hidden under some rocks… it is Sara’s bag.”

Hastily taking the bag from the hobbit, Fili began to search for something that might rouse the girl from her slumber. Sara always did have unusual things in her bag that Fili did not understand but things that managed to do amazing things.

“it is her notebook,” Fili muttered as he drew out the single content of the bag.

Flipping through the pages, he paused near the end and looked at the others in shock.

“Thorin… look…” he whispered.

Thorin barely looked but when he did, his eyes widened. The sketch was of him, Fili and Kili all lying on tables… dead…

“Sara told us that Thorin was in some sort of danger,” Dwalin explained, having been there the whole time with Gandalf, Omar, Axel and some others but no one had noticed. “She told Nori to sew mithril into your coat Thorin.”

Thorin brushed his fingers over the material of his coat, “It saved me from dying…”

“And when Azog had me dangling over the ledge,” Kili sniffled. “If she hadn’t… done whatever it was she did… I might have died… and Fili…”

The two brothers looked at each other in shock which did not go unnoticed by Thorin.

“Boys… what happened?” he demanded when the two went silent.

“If Sara had not gotten Bolg’s attention and shot him… one of us… or all of us could have been dead right now,” Fili muttered.

“She did it on purpose… she let Bolg kill her… to save us… just like how she shot Azog’s hand and made me fall into the water,” Kili murmured, tears pooling in his blue eyes again.

“Why?” Thorin muttered, pulling Sara’s body closer to his chest. “Why would you do that Sara?”

“Because she had a plan,” a voice observed.

All eyes lifted and Thorin and Dwalin stared in shock and disbelief as a small figure stepped from behind Gandalf. For a moment, they did not know him till they saw the eyes, the nose and the tattoos…

“Father?” Thorin breathed.

Thrain smiled as he dropped to his knees next to his crying son and pulled Thorin into a tight embrace. When he pulled away, he looked at the girl in his son’s protective arms and smiled.

“She is a clever one Thorin. She knew of my impending death and warned Gandalf before he found me in Dol Goldur. If it had not been for her planning, I would be dead. Just like she had planned to save you my son from the beginning, she knew how she would go about it. She had mithril sewn into your clothes for a reason and that was to protect you. She reserved enough shots in that contraption of hers for a reason… to rescue my grandsons. Everything she has done has a reason.”

“Then why did she give her life so willingly?” Thorin sobbed, his voice cracking and husky from tears.

Thrain smirked, “She didn’t. That is no ordinary tunic she wears, my son.”

Thorin frowned in confusion before looking at the rough brown fabric that covered Sara’s body… he looked to his father and Gandalf who were both smiling and then he spied Omar and Axel nearby, proud smiles on their faces.

The dwarf turned his eyes back on Sara and saw that her face was not void of color, her lips parted in barely visible breathing, no blood pooling around her…

“Dragon scales.”

*******

Everything was hazy when Sara came to, groaning from the pain in her chest that felt painfully similar to cardiac arrest and heart burn, even though Sara had no idea what the former felt like.

She went to sit up when she suddenly felt an arm slip behind her shoulders to support her while another hand grasped one of hers gently but firmly.

“Sweetheart, are you feeling alright?” a deep gently baritone voice asked.

Sara turned her head and the haziness faded to reveal the concerned face of one Thorin Oakenshield who sat beside her.

“Thorin?” Sara whispered, “You’re okay! You’re alive!” she cried joyfully, throwing her arms around his neck and burying her face in his chest.

Tears pricked Thorin’s eyes at the joy in his wife’s voice, “All thanks to you darling. Fili and Kili are fine too. They are helping clear the battleground.”

Sara’s shoulders slumped in relief at those words, leaning her head against Thorin’s neck before her hands crept to her womb.

“The babies are fine,” Thorin assured her, “Oin checked you.”

Sara went to answer when a little kick against her palm made her gasp with happiness. Reaching over she took Thorin’s hand and pressed it to her belly just as another kick came. Thorin’s face split into a huge grin and he bent down to press a kiss to Sara’s belly before pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, afraid that she would break like China if he did anything more than that. Their loving moment was interrupted when the door flew open and in rushed the whole, and I mean whole, company plus Gandalf, Ryder, Omar, Axel and a strangely familiar dwarf.

Fili and Kili were at the other side of her bed in an instant, asking her if she was alright, sore or tired but Dwalin quickly shushed the two mother hens. Next, Omar and Ryder hopped onto the end of her bed to give her quick hugs and patted her over to make sure Oin didn’t miss a wound or bruise.

“I’m alright,” Sara assured everyone. “So happy to see you all safe and unharmed… wait… Lord Thrain!?”

The older dwarf walked toward Sara who moved to sit on the side of the bed, Thorin not letting her move further. Thrain smiled at the girl and took the hand that Thorin was not holding possessively.

“Thank you so much my dear for protecting my family. Not just rescuing my son and grandsons but loving them and giving Thorin a chance to live a happy life. If it were not for you, half of us would not be standing here today.”

Sara smiled past her tears, “I was afraid the whole time… afraid that I would fail and all of you would die…”

Thrain smiled and when he spied the smitten look his son was giving Sara, he turned to the others with a knowing look. “We should let her rest up for the feast tonight.” He said.

Fili and Kili went to object when Thrain gave them a warning look and if they thought Thorin was scary, Thrain was terror itself. The door had barley shut behind their retreating forms when Thorin turned to Sara and cupping her face in both hands, pressed a heated, hungry kiss to her lips. The girl let out a squeak in surprise before melting into Thorin’s loving kiss.

When they parted, Sara’s eyes were glazed over, her cheeks rosy and her lip swollen. Thorin playfully kissed her nose before looking at her lovingly.

“Mahal woman. What did I do to deserve you?” he mumbled.

Sara smiled and booped his nose with hers, “You gave me a fairy tale love story. One that I never thought I could have. That is how,” she whispered.

Thorin groaned and buried his face in her neck, muttering something about words being seductive. He lifted his head and sighed.

“I should get myself under control before I do something explicit in front of Mason.”

Sara looked to where Thorin had nodded to see that he had procured a little bed in the corner of their bed chamber where the large black dog lay curled up, snoring happily.

“He refused to leave your side,” Thorin whispered playfully. “I am starting to think between him and the twins, I will have some daunting competition for your attentions.”

*********

“Are you sure you cannot stay?” Thorin pleaded with Bilbo as he walked with him to the front gate, “Not even till the twins arrive?”

Bilbo smiled, “I would love to but if I stay much longer, people may begin to think I am dead!”

Thorin chuckled when suddenly Fili and Kili sprinted over, calling their uncle’s name. Thorin began to run but Kili held up his hands in surrender, “Easy there uncle. It is not the babies. Sara is not in labor. We just came to say goodbye to Bilbo.”

Thorin relaxed and Bilbo chuckled. Ever since Oin said that Sara would go into labor any minute, Thorin had been on edge. If someone called his name or even shouted, he began to sprint to the royal chambers.

This made for several false alarms every day for the past three days. Kili almost pranked Thorin and told him that Sara was in labor but luckily Fili found out and called his brother’s bluff before it went off.

Bilbo was just about to bid them farewell when Ori came running their way, eyes wide and face split with a grin.

“Thorin! It is time! The twins are coming!”

Thorin hesitated for a moment, waiting for someone to stop him but when no one did, he rushed back inside at full speed.

“Well I guess I can stay a while longer,” Bilbo muttered.

When Thorin found his father, Dwalin, Balin, Gandalf, Axel, Omar and Ryder standing outside he and Sara’s chambers, he listened for the screams… Oin had told him that Sara would probably scream and cry… but it was silent… another false alarm?

But then the door opened and Oin stepped out with a huge smile on his face.

“Congratulations Thorin! They are here!” the old dwarf said.

Thorin blindly walked into the room alone to find Sara sitting propped up by pillows on their large bed. Never had she looked so beautiful with her face sweaty, hair a mess and nestled in her arms were two tiny bundles. Walking over slowly, Thorin stared down in wonder at the two round faces that lay sleeping against Sara’s bosom. Their little round cheeks were puffy and red but smooth and healthy. Adorable buttons noses and long lashes that brushed their cheeks. One had jet black hair while the other had hair as red as roses.

“Thorin, meet Soren and Thora,” Sara whispered, smiling.

Thorin slowly sat down next to her and wrapped his arms around her and the twins, pressing a kiss to Sara’s brow before slowly bending down to kiss the twin’s foreheads one at a time.

He ran his finger over his son’s fire red hair and then touched his daughter’s rosy cheek, feeling tears prick his eyes when Thora wiggled at the feeling and grabbed his finger with her tiny little fingers.

“Thank you,” he whispered to Sara, “Thank you for loving me and rescuing me from everything.”

Sara beamed and kissed his lips, “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, doing anything with anyone but you.”

********

Epilogue – 5 years later.

“No, no, over to the left,” Thorin instructed the men as he and Dwalin tried to explain to the constructing dwarves the order in which they had to rebuild Erabor. The front of Erabor had been finished about a year ago and all the gold and gems had been put in crates, multiple crates sent to each suffering town, village, or city before the remaining were stored away in vaults in the deepest chambers of Erabor, only to be brought out if the need of extra coin ever arose.

“It will be grand again Thorin,” Dwalin beamed with pride as he watched the dwarves move away the broken pillars (a curtesy of the deceased Smaug) and began to decide how to go about putting up new ones. “Just like the old days.”

Thorin smiled and nodded as he looked around. Already the halls of Erabor were filled with golden light and the rustic grey color of the interior of Erabor had returned to its beautiful bluish green marble look after much cleaning and construction. The sounds of laughter, yells and voices filled every nook and cranny of the kingdom and Thorin was proud to realize that a part of the noise was thanks to him and Sara.

“Papa!” a small but bright voice cried.

Thorin immediately spun around with a huge grin on his face as he bent to one knee and held out both arms. The little bundle of joy and red curls leapt into Thorin’s waiting arms and wrapped her plump little 3-year-old arms around Thorin’s neck before planting a wet slobbery smooch to his cheek, cringing at the feel of his beard on her face. (Sora below)

“What are you up to pumpkin?” Thorin asked as he planted the little girl on his hip, her arms still tightly around her neck.

Dwalin smiled at the sweet exchange and waved at his little goddaughter. Sora’s fire red curls fell all the way to her waist which, considering that she was barely two feet tall, was not that long. Her eyes were so blue that at first everyone feared that something was wrong with her but there was absolutely nothing wrong with spunky little Sora other than her infatuation with her father, giving her the title: Papa’s Princess.

“Thain was pulling my hair so mummy told me to play somewhere else,” Sora said, sticking her bottom lip out in a pout.

Thorin chuckled and kissed her rosy cheek, “Thain is only two years old pumpkin. He doesn’t know that it hurts when he pulls your hair. Is Thea asleep?”

Sora nodded, “Sorin got her to sleep but she threw a fit when Thana tried.”

(Sorin below)

The youngest Oakenshield, little one year old Thea had a habit of being particular about who put her down for a nap and everyone soon realized that her favorite rocker was 5-year-old Sorin which honestly was a saving grace because quiet, gentle Sorin took after his mother and preferred to help with the little ones while Thana was a perfect replica of Thorin, spunky and hating to be indoors. With a sixth child on the way, Sara was able to take some rest with Sorin helping with the little ones and Thorin had to worry less when he left every morning to his duties.

“Papa,” Sora whispered, pulling Thorin’s attention back to her, patting both of his cheeks with her little hands. “Do you think mummy is mad at me?”

Thorin furrowed his brow, “Of course not pumpkin! Mummy is never angry with you.”

Sora shifted on her father’s hip, “But she was crying and frowning all day today…”

This caused both Dwalin and Thorin to stop. After having five children, you would think that a mother would go crazy since her eldest were only five years old but not Sara. She was full of energy and she never tired of caring for her children that she saw as pure miracles. She never snapped or got angry with her children and whenever one of the kids had done something really bad like hit their sibling, she sent them to Thorin because she knew he would discipline them instead of just giving them a gentle reprimanding like she would.

Thorin looked at Dwalin who nodded. There was only one explanation for Sara’s attitude… pregnancy hormones. Dwalin reached out his hands to little Sora who leapt into her Uncle Dwalin’s arms.

“Go take care of the queen,” Dwalin said with a smirk. “We cannot have a replay of Thain’s pregnancy.” (Thea below)

Thorin smiled. When Sara was pregnant with Thain, the little boy was so small that she barley started showing until the final month which worried Sara, fearing that perhaps she had miscarried the baby and was carrying a dead baby around in her womb. One day when baby Thain was asleep in her womb, Sara had broken down in sobs because she couldn’t feel him move and Thorin had found her sobbing in the bathroom and he spent the rest of the day in bed comforting her. Luckily, the next morning Thain decided to announce his presence by jabbing his mother in the gut with his foot which erased that fear but after that, Thorin always made sure he was ready to run back to the royal chambers if Sara ever needed him.

When Thorin entered the royal chambers, he saw Sorin gently carrying a sleeping Thea to the adjoining room where little Thain was probably sleeping for his nap. He gave his eldest son a questionable look and Sorin nodded towards Thana’s room, silently answering his father’s question about where Thana was. Finding that Sara was alone in their chambers. (Thana below)

Thorin slipped silently into the room to find that the four poster bed sheets had been overturned and messed up from the children playing on it. Wooden blocks and little wooden animals were scattered on the floor. Sitting by the fading fire was Sara, rocking back and forth slowly in the rocking chair. Thorin knew that look… she was tired. He moved to close the door when he heard a faint sniffle and froze in his movements. Looking back at his wife who had her back toward him, he saw her reach up to wipe her cheeks… crying… that meant only one thing and Thorin found himself smiling at the thought despite himself.

Closing the door, he walked over and bending down, pressed a kiss to his wife’s bare neck, eliciting a warm sigh from her. Sara turned her head, eyes closed in an effort to come into some form of contact with her husband that she had not heard return.

“You’re early,” she whispered when her nose found his and she rubbed her cheek across his like a baby seeking skin contact with its mother.

Thorin smiled as he wrapped his arms around Sara from behind and continued to press kisses to her neck and jaw, rubbing her arms with his hands. “Sora told me that you were feeling down. Miss me much?”

Sara chuckled softly before turning to look him square in the eyes, showing that her blue orbs were pooling with unshed tears. “How do you manage to know exactly what is wrong with me?”

Thorin smiled before bending down to press a warm kiss to her lips that were swollen from her biting them to hold back tears. “You cry silently whenever you miss me or are lonely.”

Sara sighed in defeat but Thorin beamed, coming to stand before her. Bending down, he slipped one arm under her legs while wrapping the other around her waist and picking her up slowly and gently, minding the rather large bump of her womb. Sara wrapped her arms around his neck and silently allowed him to carry her to the bed where he placed her down before crawling in next to her. This was their routine whenever one of them or both of them needed some physical contact to ward off the stress and anxiety. Sara rolled onto her side and Thorin shuffled till his front was flush against her back, slipping a leg between hers before wrapping his arms around her expanded abdomen and burying his face in her hair.

“I miss you too,” Thorin whispered as he felt himself drift off to sleep. “Every day. The moment I walk out that door I fight with myself to not turn around and go back in, calling for a sick day.”

At first, he thought Sara had fallen asleep when she didn’t reply but then he felt her fingers touch his before turning to kiss his hairy cheek. “I love you, big bear.”

Thorin smiled at her pet name before returning the kiss but this time to her lips. “Took the words right out of my mouth Pixie.”

“You know I hate that nickname,” Sara muttered into the pillow.

“What can I say?” Thorin chuckled. “You are petite and cute like a little pixie fairy… or we could go back to honeybun.”

“Nope,” Sara observed. “Pixie is fine. Honeybun sounds like you are referring to by bum.”

Thorin stifled a laugh which came out as a chuckle before he held Sara closer, both of them falling into a peaceful sleep.

Thorin’s eyes cracked open and he looked around. Oh… it was a dream. It was so real that he felt like he really was back there a few months prior to that evening when he comforted his heavily pregnant wife. Rolling over, he saw that all five of his children had made their way into the bed he and Sara shared, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Sora lay directly behind him, having probably clutched his body in her sleep. Her cheek pressed into one of her hands and her lips parted as she snored softly. On the other side of her lay Thana who had her back to her twin whose arms were wrapped protectively around little Thea who had her thumb dangling from her mouth where she had fallen asleep sucking her thumb, her free hand holding onto Sorin’s fingers. Thain was lying in the empty space that Sara usually occupied, probably had been sleeping up against his mother but when she had left the bed, he had rolled into the extra space, spread out like a star fish and snoring louder than all his siblings combined. Definitely a trait he picked up from his uncles.

Slowly getting up and pushing the blankets aside, he spied a faint light in the bathroom, but the door was cracked so Sara wasn’t using the toilet.

He rose to his feet and didn’t bother to put anything on over his pants or bare upper body. Mason who lay at the end of the bed perked his ears at his master’s movement but Thorin put a finger to his lips and then pointed to the children. Mason got the hint and crawled over to take Thorin’s place on the bed, nuzzling the sleeping Sora with his snout.

Thorin crept to the washroom and peered inside to see Sara staring at herself in the full body mirror. Her hands were hanging by her sides before she reached up and ran her fingers over the roundness of her abdomen. Thorin saw her shoulders drop and she sighed softly.

“Amralime,” Thorin whispered, stepping in.

Sara looked at him over her shoulder and from the puffy look of her face, Thorin realized that she had been crying.

“Hey,” Thorin cooed, walking over to her and wrapping her arms around her, drawing her against his chest. “What is wrong love?”

Sara didn’t not look him in the eye but stared out at the huge bump that was wedged between them, “I’m fat.”

Thorin’s eyes widened before a smirk flashed across his face, “You are not fat darling. You’re round with our child.”

Sara remained silent and the smirk faded to a frown on Thorin’s face. Pulling away, he cupped her face and lifted her eyes to look at him. “Darling, if you do not want to have any more children after this…”

Sara shook her head violently, “No Thorin! It’s not that. I want to have as many children as possible with you… I love being pregnant and the morning sicknesses, cravings and labor pains are so worth it. I just… I just never feel pretty when I am pregnant…”

Silence enveloped the two before Sara shivered as Thorin untied the tie of her nightgown and let the silk pool at her feet, leaving her stark naked except for her underwear. She had stopped wearing a bra because her swollen breasts felt constricted and painful when she did. She moved to cover her ample bosoms but Thorin grasped her hands in his and looked her dead in the eyes.

Just looking at the expression on Thorin’s face made Sara’s whole body heat up even though the room was chilly, and she bit her lip when Thorin’s hands trailed from her palms to her elbows. Slowly he began to walk around her as if stalking his prey, eyes drinking in her ample curves that had only increased with her numerous pregnancies. Sara felt Thorin’s fingers briefly touch her thighs and backside before trailing up her spine to her neck, over her shoulder and then down the center of her front, between her bosoms, over her bump…

Sara stared at him speechless as he knelt down in front of her, blue meeting blue as he held her gaze. When he dropped to his knee in front of her, he wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her closer till his face was pressed against the side of her womb, arms around her lower back and her hands instinctively weaving into his messy black locks.

“You are beautiful sweetheart,” he whispered. “It is all I can do to not ravish you when I see you rounding out with our child. Your fingers and feet are not skinny, your belly expands, your chest grows, and your cheeks seem perpetually crimson and glowing. You are a picture of beauty when you are pregnant love.”

He lifted his head to look up at her before planting a warm kiss to the side of her belly, doing the same to the other side before placing one more at the crest of the bump. His hands ghosting over every inch of her body, he slowly rose to his feet, lips trailing up her chest to her neck where he placed a chaste kiss to the corner of her jaw before pulling back to look her in the eyes.

He muttered something in Khuzdul under his breath just loud enough for Sara to hear and when she did, her eyes widened at what he had said. Thorin’s darkened eyes locked on hers before he slipped a hand behind her neck and brought his lips down on hers hungrily, Sara letting out a little gasp from the intensity, but she found herself melting into it, her head swimming and her hands gripping at his bare shoulders for support of her weak limbs.

“You brought me out of the darkness and into the light. Only someone truly amazing and spectacular could do that. Never ever think that you are not beautiful or you are unloved. If my last words are not “I love you” then you’ll know that I did not have time.”

Sara smirked before poking her husband’s bare chest. “Quoting Jamie Fraser from Outlander huh? You’ve been hanging out too long with my brothers.”

Thorin smiled before helping his wife pull her nightgown back on before picking her up into his arms and returning to the room. The two soon realized that there was no chance that they could squeeze back onto their bed so Thorin lay down on the large couch, Sara laying down between his side and the back of the couch, her head and hand on his chest and the two fell into a deep, peaceful sleep. Needless to say, when they woke the next morning, all five of their kids had somehow squeezed onto the couch and were sleeping on top of them, around them on between their legs. Mason sat on the floor looking Thorin in the eye as if saying “I tried.”

“And that dear Frodo is the end of the story,” Bilbo said with great ceremony, clapping his hands together before leaning back.

The white-haired hobbit considered the little boy who sat on the floor before him, barely five years old with curly black hair all over his eyes, bright blues staring at his uncle with amazement.

“But that cannot be the end!” Frodo objected. “How did it really end? Are they still alive? What about Sara’s brothers? And the children! Was the baby a boy or a girl!?”

Bilbo chuckled as his nephew ranted on and on about his questions. “Now, now lad, one question at a time.”

Frodo stuck out his lip in a pout but listened silently and intently as Bilbo continued.

“Sara and Thorin Oakenshield had another son: Shayne (above) with raven black hair like his father and the same blue eyes as both his parents. Sara’s brothers grew up and all went their separate ways. Axel went off to Gondor in search of adventure, found a lovely lass there and settled down for the rest of his days. Omar and Ryder remained at Erabor until they were grown men before they journeyed out to visit every corner of Middle Earth. They finally returned to the Mountain Village where the duties of Chief were handed to Omar after Deke passed on. They married and lived there till the end of their days. Young Kili married the love of his life, the red-haired she-elf. Not long ago, Kili’s age began to dwindle and the two took a boat to the undying lands so they would never be separated from each other ever. Kili was crowned king when young Sorin rejected the crown and he lived many years as a wonderful king of Erabor. Sorin married Zain and Rose’s little daughter Annabelle and their two children live in Erabor to this day. Princess Thana could not sit still and went to live in the Ironhills with her younger brother Thane. Thane died in a battle a few years ago but he had lived a long and fulfilling life. Thana never married. Thea and Shayne married and live in Erabor to this day. Sora could never part from her parents and when they died, she became a traveling writer, writing stories of her parents and family. Thorin and Sara lived till their grey years until they both died peacefully in bed together. Sora was the one who found them, the two wrapped in each other’s arms in peaceful sleep.”

When Bilbo did not continue, Frodo seemed satisfied that it was the end and with a huge grin, clapped before running off to find a new occupation now that the story was over. Bilbo sat in silence for a while, thinking with a fond smile back to the letter he had received from Sora just a year prior telling him of Thorin and Sara’s passing. He knew without a doubt that the two were happily dancing together on the White Shores.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door and Bilbo got up to answer it. There stood a young mailboy with a package in his hands. “Sorry Mr. Baggins, but this package arrived for you.”

Bilbo nodded and closed the door as he ripped the paper and stared at the rough, worn leather book. Flipping to the first page, he felt tears spring to his eyes.

Dear Bilbo,

I know that out of all of the company, you will be the one who will still be alive by the time we are gone. You and Gandalf. Don’t ask me how I know this, it’s a gift. Do what you think is right Bilbo and we will see each other again soon in a happier place.

With much love,

Sara and Thorin Oakenshield.

Slowly turning to each page, Bilbo smiled as he remembered when and where Sara drew each of the sketches until he came to the last page and he stared wide eyed. Wedged in the back page of the notebook was a small sketch… of him! Of his younger self! He smiled as he tucked the picture into his coat before finding a safe place to put the notebook on his shelf.

Little did he know that two figures stood at the edge of the White Shores, watching with smiles on their faces as they watched over Bilbo and Frodo from above.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! IT"S DONE!!!! I"M CRYING!!!!! Sorry that this chapter was so long but I got carried away in the fluff and angst:) Love ya'll and I hope you enjoyed!

#thorin oakenshield x oc #thorin oakenshield #thorin x oc #thorin #hobbit #lotr

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smut-goblin · 5 years

Text

The Frog (f!elf x m!orc sfw)

Mia couldn't sleep.

The rain mercilessly drumming on the windows and roof had nothing to do with it, even if it did sound like a cannonade to her sensitive elven ears.

She felt guilty and that nagging feeling would not let her rest. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She had made her decision and should stick to it. Then why did the entire thing leave a sour taste in her mouth that no amount of Glayva could wash out?

The conversation kept back to haunt her as she bundled up on her couch, resigned to a sleepless night.

Tank was a good man, an amazing man. In any other circumstance, she’d welcome him in her life with arms (and legs) wide open.

But being with the orc would also mean being a member of his Clan and Sons of Perdition already had too much involvement in her life.

She told him that and even in the dark of the SUV, she could see the exact moment his heart broke. They were uncomfortably silent for the rest of the ride. At least outside. Inside her head she was cursing her car for breaking down, cursing herself for accepting the ride home from Tank, and cursing her stupid asshole brain for reminding her how great the orc smelled and how amazing his lips felt on her nipples that one time they both got a bit drunk and let all caution go.

The dark shape of her house was a relief and Mia was ready to jump out before Tank had done parking. An arm like a tree stopped her, grabbing her doors.

She was afraid he'd be angry, but his face was open and sincere when he told her he would find a way. They can be together without her getting involved in Clan politics and not so legal activities. Mia felt her resolve crumble under those warm honey eyes so she called a friend that always protected her from other emotions. Anger.

She didn't remember now all the things she said, didn't wanted to. The more Tank tried the more she raged. In the end, she jumped out of the car, he grabbed at her bomber jacket and said he was strong enough to make it work because he loved her and he’d prove it to her if she just gave him a chance. Mia laughed a barking, cruel sound. She told him fair enough, roll up The Frog to the front of my house and slammed the car doors, making a dash for the safety of her home through the cutting rain.

The Frog. What was she thinking? A boulder sitting five miles out at the crossroads? Why not a Firebird feather or siren's voice? It was the only thing she could think of to make him realise there's no chance.

No matter how much she wished there was.

She padded in the dark to the kitchen, the bottle emptied too early she needed another. A movement outside caught her eye.

It was hard to see through the pouring rain, fat drops distorting everything in the fluorescent porch light. But there was certainly something moving, something big.

Mia grabbed the rifle next to the doors before stepping outside. She froze.

There was no mistaking. There was a giant rock sitting next to her porch.

-”Where do you want it?”- came a shout and a figure almost as big as the rock came into the light.

Tank was soaked through and muddy. Water was running in rivulets down his shaved sides and forehead, he kept blinking to get it out of his eyes. But the grin on his face was full of pride.

-”What the… “ - Mia started and just started from the orc to the boulder.

His smile grew even wider as he stepped on the porch next to her, shaking the water off. Mia clutched the rifle to her chest. The orc gently pried it from her hands and propped it against the wall.

-”You wanted The Frog, you get The Frog” - he said holding out his arms to her.

-”Your hands are bleeding.” - from all the things rolling in her head, her mouth chose to blurt that one out. Tank's brows knitted together in confusion and he looked at his palms. There were red lines running through the dark mud, dripping the watery mess at his feet. -”Get in!” - Mia urged, a bit more centred now that she had something she could focus on. She grabbed rifle in one hand, orc wrist in the other, bringing them both back inside.

Once she turned on the light she realised what a sorry state Tank was in. He created a small puddle just by standing. She clicked her tongue and let warm water run in the sink.

-”Right!” - she said as much to the orc as to herself. -”You stick your hands under the tap to clean them, I will run you a hot bath and we will take you out of those clothes!”

If anything Tank looked amused as an elf half his size pushed him towards the sink before disappearing upstairs.

Mia's heart was racing so fast she felt she might faint. That idiot. He did it! That stupid, stubborn, lovable fool!

It's fine. She will think of something later. One disaster at a time. She started the water and brought out the biggest towels she had. They'd have to do.

By the time she made it back downstairs, Tank was finishing wrapping tea towels over his hands to stop the bleeding. She remembered how cold his skin felt under her fingers. He was always like a furnace and now he shook with chills.

-”The bath is filling up, let's get you nice and warm” - she called out from the bottom of the stairs, not really knowing what to do with herself.

He followed without a word, maybe he was as lost as her about what to do now?

He certainly seemed bashful asking for help undressing with his hands wrapped. Mia said nothing, kneeling to unlace his biker boots and let him step out of them. He managed to shuck off his jeans and underwear with her help. Even if elves weren't shy, Mia still blushed. It looked like a pint glass while he was freezing cold, what size…?

She slapped herself mentally, waiting for Tank to take off his T-shirt. Mia helped him into the bathtub, laughing a bit at his appreciative hiss once he got engulfed by the hot water. Before he could say anything, she grabbed the soaked clothes and fled.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't come up with any idea what to do. Tank has shown his hand and his heart. She’d have to give him an honest answer.

But the honesty scared her.

She wanted to, she wanted to throw all caution to the wind. But helping smuggle for the Sons could already cost her her job and licence. Possibly put her behind the bars. What more could they demand of her when she becomes a clan member?

Tank's shout for help got her out of her reminiscing. She quickly shoved the clothes and put the washing on before making her way upstairs like scaling the gallows.

Mia put the biggest towel over the toilet and helped Tank out of the bathtub. She couldn't help noticing he was favouring his right hip and winced in pain as he sat down.

-”Did you hurt yourself?” - the elf asked wrapping another towel over his shoulders to keep him warm.

-”No” - he chuckled wryly. -”That's an old one, comes out to play when it's rainy and cold”.

-”And you decided to roll a boulder either way…” - she busied herself undoing his waist-long braid and drying his hair. He let her, lowering his head, staring at the tea towels wrapped around his hands.

-”I had to”. - Tank swallowed. -”I had to make you understand”.

-”That you are an idiot?” - Mia snorted, retying his hair in a loose ponytail.

-”You already know that.” - his arms went around her, pulling her close. -”I've imagined I'd roll that thing over and sweep you off your feet, spend the whole night showing you how much I care.” - he snorted again. -”But now my back hurts, my hip is killing me and my hands sting like hell. All I can think of is crawling into bed and sleeping my shame away.”

-”I don't even know your name…” - she let her mouth speak without thinking again. It was true. She and everyone else always called him Tank, how could she grow to love and care for a man she knew so little about?

He stood up, joints popping, to his full over seven feet.

-”Throk. Throk Stonerender.”

-”Then mister Stonerender, let's get you to bed and we will talk in the morning” - Mia offered, leading him to her bedroom.

It was a coward’s way out to buy herself more time but it was all she could come up with. At least until morning.

#orctober #orc #orc boyfriend #mia x tank #elf x orc

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satelliteinasupernova · 5 years

Note

Hey! Could you do a prompt where Jughead is really anxious and Betty is there for him

Jughead didn’t realize that he had been staring at the corner of the coffee table instead of paying attention to the movie until he glanced up and realized he had completely lost track of the plot. He tried to remember what he had even been thinking about while he was distracted, but as soon as he switched focus, the thought was gone.

He glanced around. JB was next to him on the couch with a bowl of popcorn in her arms, eyes glued to the screen. Betty was curled up in the armchair nearby, leaning against her knees. Her eyes blinked heavily. She looked like she was about to fall sleep. His dad was on the other side of the living room leaned back in the recliner chair, snoring lightly.

It was the kind of domestic image that he could have practically carved out of his daydreams. He should be calm, happily enjoying the moment. Instead, his heart was hammering in his chest.

He was hit with the sudden need to move. He stood up and shuffled around the couch quietly.

“Do you want us to pause it?” JB blinked up at him, no doubt convinced he was off to the bathroom.

“No,” he answered, as casually as possible. “I can catch up.” He had no clue what was going on anyway.

He bound up the stairs to his and Betty’s shared room. At least now that he was moving, the pounding in his chest didn’t feel as disconnected from the rest of his body, but now that he was here, he wasn’t sure what to do.

What he really wanted to do was go take his bike out for a ride, but that would only lead to questions he didn’t really want to answer.

He sat down heavily on the bed, on what he now considered Betty’s side. He drummed his fingers against the wooden side table, listening to the soft sound it made.

Was there something that was bothering him? He tried to think of what he might have forgotten about. If there was something subconsciously eating at him.

Betty was downstairs; his family was downstairs. He could glance out the window and see that the light to Archie’s bedroom was on.

For the first time in weeks, things were starting to get back to normal. It had taken some time for Betty to stop waking up in the night, shivering in a cold sweat. For her to stop tip-toeing around like she didn’t belong in her own house. They had started having a family movie night, played a few old board games Betty had found still tucked away in the attic. Slowly, she had started to seem more comfortable, if not exactly better.

So why was he so on edge?

He flicked at the latch to a small box Betty kept on her bedside table. She used it to keep photos and letters nearby. He flicked the lid open, then closed, open, then closed. He could use something to eat, but he didn’t want to go back downstairs yet.

He flicked the box open again. At the very top of the stack of papers was a letter she had given him, a deep red kiss mark above the seal. It was a color he only saw on Betty when she was feeling particularly rebellious. Before he had moved into the house, he had kept it inside the case for his typewriter, afraid if he left it anywhere else, it would get crumpled. Betty had noticed it at the bottom of the case when Jughead had been writing with the typewriter, and with a smile, she had tucked it away in her memory box.

The typewriter.

He reached down to pull the case out from its stowaway space under the bed. Leaning down on the floor, he flipped the latches together in one motion, and pulled the typewriter up and rested it on the desk by the window.

He loaded the typewriter with a new sheet of paper and felt the heaviness of the keys under his hands. He typed at a few random keys, comforted by the loud click of each one. He didn’t have anything to write, didn’t even know if he could string words together in his current state of mind.

He stared at the blank sheet of paper silently for a few minutes, and then ran through a string of keys, just to ease the tension that was building in his gut.

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck He typed out in a steady rhythm, almost as if he was playing a piano instead of punching at a typewriter. At the end of the line, he stopped.

He felt better. Sort of. Breathing was coming easier.

He wound the paper up a few inches so he could look at his handy work.

It looked like something a twelve year old would do. He snorted humorlessly to himself, bunched up the paper and threw it to the nearby trash can.

It wasn’t until then that he saw Betty standing in the doorway. She had a speculative look on her face. That could only mean she knew something was wrong.

Don’t ask about it, he thought to himself. Don’t make this a thing.

To give his hands something to do, he reached over and loaded a new sheet of paper into the typewriter. He didn’t look at Betty. Part of him was hoping she would turn around and go back downstairs, and even acknowledging the thought made him feel sick.

Betty’s voice had a cheery lilt to it when she said, “Do you want to go for a walk?”

He blinked at her, and then glanced at the clock, “It’s ten o’clock, Betts.”

She shrugged, “Just around the neighborhood. It’s a clear night. The stars should be out.” She didn’t look concerned. Hadn’t that been his goal, to help make her feel safe in her own neighborhood again? After all, the murderer in Elm Street was dead.

With a sigh, he got up. “Sure.”

She smiled and reached her hand out for him as he approached. She kept his hand firmly in hers even as they walked down the stairs.

As Betty guided them to the front door, JB hollered over, “Hey! What about the movie?”

“We can watch the end later. We’re going to go out for a bit,” Betty explained.

JB rolled her eyes, and slumped back down into the couch, “It’s not that good anyway.”

“You’re the one who picked it,” Jughead said, still feeling testy. JB’s answer was just to stick her tongue out at him.

Betty pulled him out the door before he could think of something else to say.

The temperature was comfortable outside, and Betty was right, the stars were out.

After they had walked past a few houses, Jughead glanced over at her. She was looking up at the sky as they walked, a content look on her face. Her hand was still holding his. Her grip wasn’t tight, but it was solid. He felt grounded by it.

Sorry, he almost said, but he swallowed it down at the last minute. He had chided Betty about her tendency to over-apologize lately. Sorry for not feeling up to going out. Sorry for taking a long time in the bath. Sorry for crying too much during the family movie.

So, instead he said, “Thank you.”

She smiled warmly and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. She continued to guide him the rest of the way.

By the time they had wound around the neighborhood back to the house, his heart was set to a steady beat.

#bughead #my fic #anxiety #maybe some ptsd #i've had an anxiety week so this was a bit cathartic #Anonymous

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hardyimagines · 5 years

Text

Sick

———

Hey, I don’t mean to pester, but I’m sick today and was wondering if you could write a blurb of reg and ron taking care of a sick!reader please ♥️♥️ Thanks so much

———

“Reg, she’s still running a fever. I don’t think some hot soup is going to cure her.” Ron growled. His fingers curled around the glass bowl on the counter that was still cooling down. The steam that rose from the top of the food was enough to make Ron worry further. It didn’t make much sense to give someone something hot, and impossible to eat, whenever they were already burning up.

Reggie was sat on the sofa beside your hip, fingertips lazily tracing your tummy as he studied you. Sweat coated your forehead so he brushed it away, but it was only moments later when the droplets returned. He lifted his gaze toward the white-painted doorway, inspecting the light that poured from the room. He couldn’t see Ron, but he could hear him clearly. “Mate.” Reggie exhaled heavily, voice tinted with slight annoyance. “Why the fuck would the doctor,” He stood, fingers grazing your hip. “recommend for her to eat soup, yeah, if that was only going to make her sicker than she already is?” Reggie’s brows were drawn together, forehead creased with evident lines. You struggled to turn your head, small hand lifting to wrap around Reggie’s.

“He’s only looking out for me.” You reminded the man before sitting up slowly. The pain in your head seemed to spread throughout the entirety of your body. “You both are, and I appreciate it, but I can make my own soup..” Your hand lifted to your aching head. “I’m alright, really.” Your attempt to prove your words true was a huge fail. Swinging your legs over the side of the sofa to stand up and waltz into the kitchen to retrieve your bowl of food, you made it to your feet, but your body went light and your legs gave out. Reggie was alert, instantly stepping forward in order to lock his arms around your waist and prevent you from crashing against the hardwood floor.

“Alright, yeah, I see that.” He frowned before slowly helping you back into a seated position on the sofa. His hand lifted to your forehead, slowly brushing your strands away from your eyes as he stood beside your bent knees. It was a very comforting gesture and you could feel some of the tension and throbbing fading away beneath the warmth of Reggie Kray’s palm.

Ron made his way into the living room, hands cupped around the base of the oval shaped bowl. He was careful with his movements, footsteps steady so as not to spill any of the meal on the ground as he approached the sofa. Setting the dish on the coffee table, he looked toward you. Your eyes were droopy, bags lining the undersides. Your cheeks looked sunken. He could tell you still didn’t feel any better — not even after receiving some medicine from the doctor. You’d already had as much of it as you could for the day and it didn’t seem to be helping too much. Ron lowered himself down on one side of you and Reggie took it upon himself to drop down on the other. Both men had their gazes fixated on you, scrutinizing you, searching for some way to help you further. You leaned forward and grasped the spoon that was drowning halfway in the bowl. Stirring it around lazily, you inhaled shakily. Your body felt so weak and you didn’t know what to do about it. You just wanted to lay down, but when you did that then you felt nauseous. There was no winning.

Ron placed his hand on your back, fingertips lazily dragging along the length of it. “That’s alright then?” Ron inquired, soft eyes moving along your features as you lifted the spoon to your lips to smell the soup. Your lips twitched, curving upward in the slightest as you blew on the hot liquid, cooling it more so. Reggie wore a frown of concentration, elbow propped up on his knee and cheek buried in his palm. His eyes drifted to his brother and they exchanged a short glance before both looking back to you when you took a bite. The hot liquid soothed your sore throat and your hum of approval was music to their strained ears.

“It’s very good, thank you.” Your voice was breathy, coated in appreciation. Looking toward Ron, your eyes slipped between his shimmering orbs. They glistened with concern. You wanted to kiss him to show him just how grateful you were, but passing your illness onto one, or both, of the Kray’s didn’t seem ideal. You lifted your hand to his cheek, tracing the smooth skin lazily. Ron’s cheeks went red, warm from your words, but burning from your touch. He craned his neck and pressed a firm kiss against your palm. The sofa creaked as he stood.

“I’ll be back, yeah, need to clean up the kitchen.” He fixed the glasses which were beginning to slide down the bridge of his nose. Nudging them back up and into place, he inhaled deeply before rotating and heading back into the kitchen. He made his way to the stove and lifted the hot pot from its place, before cutting on the hot water so he could rinse the dish and rid of any sticky remnants from your food.

You looked toward Reggie as he laid his hand on your lower back. He began to soothingly rub away the little aches that tugged on your muscles and chewed at your bones as you ate. Trembling, you set the bowl down on the table and shakily continued to eat your soup by only focusing on holding the silver spoon opposed to the entire heavy dish. Reggie could see instantly that something was wrong. The little spasms and shakes in your movements told him that you were freezing despite the sweat droplets that lined your skin. Added to the fact that you felt frail and fragile.

The frown on his lips was still in place and remained there until his fingers ran up and along your back to find the base of your neck. “I think a bath would make you feel better, babe.. right, want me to go run you one?” His fingers traced the swollen sides of your jugular, kneading them delicately. You tipped your head to the side before sucking your bottom lip in and giving a gentle nod. Turning down his offer meant that he would only search for some other form of treatment — and a bath actually did sound very nice. Lifting the spoon so that you could finish up with your meal, you smiled beneath Reggie’s lips as he kissed your head before watching him go.

The sound of his boots on the stairs flooded the house, banging in your ears like a stick against a drum. Rising on very shaky and unreliable legs, you scooped up the bowl of devoured soup and made your way back into the kitchen so you could clean up your mess. Ron was oblivious to your entry, back to the doorway as he scrubbed at the filth with the worn and torn sponge. His muscles were barely visible through the white button down he wore, body shaking vigorously with the harsh movements from his arm. Approaching him from behind, your nails traced the length of his spine before you reached around him and set your bowl and spoon under the running water.

“Finished already?” He inspected the bowl. “Jesus, you must’ve been hungry.” He squirted a little bit of soap into the dish to let it soak for a moment before he twisted around to peer down at your very close form.

“Mh, Reggie’s running me a bath, so I guess I got excited.” Staring up at the handsome bloke, the nails you’d had on his back were now lazily caressing the front of his chest. Your fingertips pinched playfully at the buttons on the material before moving to his belly, stroking it absentmindedly.

He grunted in response to your words before reaching behind him in order to turn off the running water. “Well, you’d best get up there before the water gets cold.” He set his hand on your hip and nudged you lightly toward the door. Fisting your hand in his shirt, you tugged him along with you.

“Aren’t you coming?” The question was light, not pressuring in the slightest. Ron almost smiled. The man lifted his hand to his face and rubbed the length of it down, swiftly hiding the almost twitch of his lips. His hand remained in place on your hip before he once more ushered you toward the door, but this time followed along behind you.

Reggie was perched up on the side of the tub. His feet were planted flatly against the cream colored, fluffy rug beneath his shoes. He shuffled his boots lazily as he hunched over the full tub in order to cut off the running water. His black suit jacket was discarded, folded messily on the sink, and the sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up to his forearms. He kept dipping his fingers into the water to ensure that it wasn’t going to burn your sensitive skin and he’d come to the conclusion — three times — that you’d be fine. His enchanting eyes lifted to the creaky wooden door in the corner when it opened noisily. The hinges groaned beneath the soft pressure of your palm. You sent Reggie a warm grin, one that told him you were appreciative for what he’d done.

Ron moved to the sink, leaning against the platform as he let you move toward the bath. The thin fabric of your nightgown didn’t do much keeping you warm so both men knew you were eager to submerge yourself in the water. You laid your hand on Reggie’s shoulder and hunched over in order to test the water. He was wearing an expression of cockiness, one that told you he’d done all the checking necessary. The damp part of your fingers grazed his shoulder before you lowered your hands to the bottom of your attire and swiftly lifted the fabric. Dragging it off of your body, you reminded yourself that being nervous was pointless. Course anyone in their right mind would be frazzled under the stare of one Kray twin, let alone both. You discarded the dress on the floor beside your feet and without hesitation, lifted your leg over the side of the basin and lowered yourself down into the water. A heavenly sigh escaped your lips as soon as the warm bath soothed your aching muscles.

Reggie and Ron were transfixed on your expression. You were glowing, and it wasn’t from the sweat. Your lips were parted in the slightest, eyes drooped closed calmly and head tipped back revealing your neck to them. Reggie had a better view because of where he was sat, but Ron leaned to the side in order to get just as good of a view. Both gazes were curious, raking along your body to familiarize themselves with the skin their fingertips were already acquainted with. You opened one eye when you felt their stares lingering.

The heavy intake a breath that escaped you made them both straighten. “Thank you both for helping me,” You whispered, other eye opening in order to scrutinize the twins that stood before you. Everything they’d done the last few days in order to nurse you back to health could’ve easily been done yourself, but you weren’t complaining. Why would you? Two handsome fellows wanted to look after you and you were expected to turn them down? That was laughable. Leaning up in the tub, you placed your arm on the side of the bath, fingers grazing the outer part of Reggie’s thigh. Ron stepped forward so he could join his brother on the ledge of the tub and when he did, you couldn’t help but smile toward your handsome boy’s. “I’d give you a kiss if I wasn’t contagious.”

“I think that’s a risk, right, that we’re both willing to take, innit?” Reggie was already leaning over and into the tub and your weak attempts to halt him did barely anything. Laying your hand on his chest, you curled your hand in the front of his shirt with a quiet giggle and tried to keep him away, but he managed to dip his head and steal the softest peck.

“Reggie!” The aches in your body were impossible to feel as your laughter overrode all the pain you’d felt earlier. Standing up so the man could no longer take another kiss, you set your hand on his shoulder. “Quit it.. I don’t want to make you ill.”

Ron was fixated on the water droplets that raced along your body. His eyes flashed with amusement before he looked to Reggie. He didn’t blame his brother. Being sick was worth it if that meant they got a kiss. His arms folded when you stuck your lower lip out and looked to him for help. “I’m afraid I’ve got to side with Reg, yeah, it’s a risk I’d take too.” Your lower lip stuck out further.

“You’re both insane.” Leaning over, you splashed the both of them with handfuls of water before settling back down in the tub. Neither of them were too happy with the wet spots that now stained their clothes, but they didn’t verbally complain either. Ron reached into the tub to give you the exact same treatment, splashing you with some water. You gasped sharply before narrowing your eyes toward him. Challenging him would probably make you feel sick again. Rest was recommended and attacking him with water didn’t fall into that category. Slinking forward to retrieve the bar of soap, you grasped ahold of it before beginning to wash your body. The white bar left a trail of white along your skin, sticky and drying the longer it sat. You hummed absentmindedly as you let the bar slide along every inch of your skin. Reggie looked toward Ron, his brows twitching, silently wondering how the pair of them had gotten lucky enough to have someone as beautiful as yourself. Ron shrugged his shoulders before looking back in your direction. The clear water was becoming murky the longer you sat in it and the more soap that filled it. He looked toward your hands. Your skin was becoming pruny.

“Alright.” He stood. “Time to get out.” The man moved to the corner to retrieve the red towel that was folded neatly on the tall shelf by the door. He pinched the soft cloth before swiftly opening it so he could wrap it around your body. You remained seated in the tub, upper half of you shivering at just the thought of leaving the warm water. You bit your bottom lip hesitantly before beginning to squirm in the slightest. Ron gave you a look before stepping closer, arms extended and towel opened even wider. “Come on, you’ll be warm as soon as you’re in this.” He shook the material.

Reggie grasped your hand, finger gliding along the top of your wet skin. Helping you up and out, his hand fell away from yours only once Ron had trapped you in the towel. He wrapped you up snugly before drawing you into his chest to add even more warmth. His hands slid along the length of your back as he leaned in and pressed his warm, pink lips against your forehead. It wasn’t on fire like he’d expected it to be and that was an immense relief. You didn’t have a fever.. maybe the soup and bath really were helping, and maybe the medicine was kicking in. He began to back up, blindly reaching behind him to open the door and lead you out into the hall.

Reggie halted in the bathroom. Letting the water out of the tub, he withdrew his wet hand and set the stopper on the side. Rising, he wiped his hand on a dry towel and tidied up the dirty clothes and dried the wet floor. He knew when he returned to the bedroom, you’d be curled up on the bed, waiting to be sandwiched between them.

Ron was sat on the left side of the bed, glasses now sitting on the side table as he watched you under a studious stare. You assured him that you could get ready on your own, but that didn’t mean he would take your word for it. He let you dress yourself, but he was ready to jump from his position and help you if you felt too weak to stand. His eyes moved along your form as you rolled the pink fabric of your nightgown over your head and shoulders. The material fell along your body, outlining your curves. He focused briefly on your breasts before they were hidden by the thin cloth.

You inhaled deeply before removing the towel from your hair. Flipping your locks to help quicken the drying process, you tossed the damp towel into the bin in the corner before moving toward the mattress. Your fingers grazed Ron’s shoulder delicately, using him as a sturdy surface to help you climb into bed. “Are you as foolish as Reggie?” You whispered before letting your heavy body collapse against the sheet. Propping your head up on the pillows, you smiled toward him slowly.

Ron wasn’t stupid. Turning his head, he rotated his body completely before taking his time to lower himself down so that he was laid at your side. His hand brushed along your stomach before moving to your hip, thumb grazing the sharp bone that resided there. “Course I am.” He whispered. His eyes, shimmering with so much care and worry, moved from yours to your lips. “A little sickness won’t kill me.”

“You hope.” You piped up before moving your small fingers along his arm. Lifting your head, you gave him the softest kiss possible since Reggie had stolen one from you in the bathroom. Your fingers lifted to the back of his neck, gliding up to run through his dark locks. He inhaled deeply, breaths deepening the second that his mouth touched yours. He leaned in again, ready to close the space between the two of you, but you turned your head to the side. “No, no, no..” You giggled quietly. “Just the one.. I’d feel so guilty if you got sick just because you kissed me. Please, Ron.” Lifting yourself up in the slightest, your nose bumped his before your arms curled around his neck. Drawing him in for a cuddle instead, you trapped him in place against you. His body molded so perfectly against your own and although it may have appeared that he was crushing you, it was comfortable. His hot breaths tickled the side of your neck and the second they did, his mouth found your throat as well. You opened your mouth to argue that he shouldn’t be messing with you in this manner, but each kiss rendered you speechless. “Ron.” The word was broken. Your hand tightened in his hair, fisting in it. You could’ve shoved him back, but instead your neck involuntarily craned to the side, effectively giving him more access.

Reggie’s footsteps elicited a deep groan from the floorboards, a hollow sound that flooded the entirety of the house. You sighed gratefully. Ron pulled away to look toward the door and as he did, it opened. His twin brother made his way inside, forehead lines visible as his eyes fell on the pair of you. He offered a soft smile before moving toward the bed tiredly. His hands fell to his belt, swiftly unhooking it before he withdrew it from the loops. He set the leather on the bedside table before doing as you’d done and collapsing on his back. He settled down on your right side, hands folding beneath his head before he shut his eyes and crossed his ankles. He sleepily kicked his shoes off, toe of one pressing against the heel of the other. He yawned loudly before squirming in the slightest. You smiled fondly at the child.

Ron kissed your neck once more before slowly rolling off of you. He dropped down at your side before letting out a breathy grunt of content. “I hope you’re feeling better.” He told you gruffly. There was a brief pause, one that held so much silence, you wondered if he was on the verge of sleep. His eyes were beginning to close as he spoke. “Love you.” You looked in his direction. Rolling closer to him so you could give him a lingering kiss on the lips, your hand met his cheek, slowly caressing it as you bid him goodnight.

“I love you too..” You felt him smile against your mouth as you spoke into the liplock, but the second the kiss came to an end, he pressed his lips together in a straight line and pretended to be too sleepy to let the smile show. You kissed his nose before rolling back on to your back and listening to their deepening breaths. Your stomach fluttered to life, butterflies flapping their wings seemingly angrily in your tummy — you felt sick because of how much you cared about him.

Ron was the first to fall asleep. His snoring made it clear. The deep rumbles that left his nose and filled the room sounded as if you were sharing your bed with a bear. You inhaled deeply, fingers curling in the duvet to drag it up and over his body. Rolling him on to his back instead of his side, you smiled slowly when the snoring softened in the slightest.

“Doesn’t help much, does it?” Reggie’s deep voice met your ears. You gasped sharply at the suddenness of his words. Looking over your shoulder toward the man, you squinted.

“You scared the hell out of me.” Dropping back down against the pillows, you shrugged before folding your arms. “It helps a little..” you offered. Reggie hummed mockingly before rolling on to his side. It was his turn to cuddle up to you. The man’s arm looped around your waist, hand hooking around your hip so he could drag you into him. He smelled musky and inviting, so your head rolled toward him, nostrils flaring and nose twitching. “What is it with you two? You can’t kiss me for a few days and now.. you’re starved.” Tracing his bottom lip with the tip of your finger, you inhaled deeply, eyes searching his.

His brows twitched. “I don’t know about Ron, but I’m always looking for some kisses from you. You’ve, right, you’ve been drained for the past few days, so neither me nor my,” He looked toward the slumbering bear. “beautiful brother wanted to bother you.” He looked back down at you, breaths deep and long.

You smiled evidently before locking your arm around his neck. “If you get sick, don’t come crying to me.” You whispered before closing the space between the pair of you. Your lips locked with his as perfectly as they locked with Ron’s. It was strange. They were similar, but they had significant differences — and those differences should’ve made one of them mold less perfectly against you, but as Reggie lifted his body so that he could rest on top of you, you found no flaw. Opening your legs, your hands moved to his sides, losing yourself in the kiss he gave you. Both of you knew that Ron was the heaviest sleeper, and even if he did wake, he wouldn’t care about what the two of you were doing. Losing yourself in Reggie’s touch, you seeped further and further into the man’s touch, each one of your shallow breaths growing hotter and heavier.

This would go on until Reggie tried to slyly roll your dress up and get his fingers between your thighs, but just because you were letting him kiss you didn’t mean you were going to sleep with him. You bit his tongue playfully, but hard enough to warn him not to try and go any further. His kisses grew slower, softer, sleepier and they continued on like that until he whispered against your lips.

“I love you.” His confession made your insides burn. You were fully aware of the fact, but it would never fail to make you feel all fuzzy and shy. Kissing him once more, you watched him as he rolled off your body and snuggled into the pillow.

“I love you too.” You reminded him before setting your hand on his chest. Caressing his stomach slowly, your heavily beating heart thumped noisily against your rib cage as you settled down for sleep. Ron’s body molded against your back and your front molded against Reggie’s side. This was your typical sleeping position, and one that left you feeling extremely snug.

—

Morning came quicker than any of you would’ve liked. The sun was high, beaming down on rooftops and shining through windows that had the curtains already drawn. You woke with a clear throat, a fine head, and no pain in your body whatsoever. Grinning like a child on Christmas, you pushed yourself up on to your knees and knelt on the mattress. Shaking both of the men’s arms, your fingers sunk into their soft flesh. “Wake up!” You gleefully whimpered. Feeling better meant not having to be so careful — not having to worry or stay indoors, not having to deprive yourself of the Kray’s.

Ron was first to wake and when he did, he thought he’d been shot. His hand lifted to his head, cradling the aching backside. He wrinkled his nose and brows up in distaste before slowly sitting up. A low moan of pain left his lips before he looked toward you, bleary eyed and half asleep. “What’s the matter?” His rough voice filled the room.

“Nothing, Nothing.” Your hand moved to his leg. “I was just.. saying that I felt better.” You tipped your head to one side. “But it looks like you feel the opposite.” Moving your hand along his thigh and up to his belly, you crawled closer. “What’s the matter?”

Ron shook his head softly. “I’m alright, just a bit of a headache.”

Your brows twitched. “That’s funny. That’s exactly what I said and it turned out to be the very first symptom of..”

Reggie woke with a harsh cough and an ache in his chest. Sitting up hurriedly, he let out a heavy, hoarse utterance of complaint before shielding his eyes. “Fucks sake.” He hissed. Your brows creased then.

It took a moment for it to dawn on you why the both of them were sick, but when it did, you shot up to a standing position on the bed. “See!” You exclaimed. “I told you, didn’t I! I knew you’d both get sick.” Narrowing your eyes toward both blokes, you leapt off the bed and folded your arms. ‘I told you so’ simmered in your eyes and the words built in your chest but you bit back the urge to rub it in their faces. Shifting slowly, you shook your no longer aching head and tutted softly. “Looks like I’ll be the one caring for the both of you this time.” Giving a smug grin, you took a small step back before yanking the door open and rushing from the room before either of them could stop you.

Reggie and Ron exchanged a look of distaste. They both would much rather take care of you instead of you taking care of them, but they didn’t voice that. They saw the happiness twinkling in your eyes over the fact that you got to return the favor. They both bit their tongues and slouched against the mountain of pillows.

Both Kray’s were sick, but there was no need to worry. They were in good hands, just as you’d been.

———————————————————————

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#tom hardy x reader #tom hardy imagine #reggie kray x reader #ronald kray x reader #reggie kray fanfiction

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