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iliveiloveiwrite · 3 years

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Meeting the Family // Anthony Bridgerton

Request: Hello there, could I please request Anthony bridgerton and reader fic where hes introducing the reader to his family for the first time and shes really nervous but the family ends up loving her more than him? Thanks, I absolutely love your work!! Please dont overwork yourself darling❤ - @lespaceboi

A/N: Thank you so much for requesting! I had so much fun with this request, I love it so so much. I only hope you do too! Lowkey posting this early bc I’m watching the euros final tonight and I won’t have time.

Warnings: she/her pronouns, female reader, light angst, some worries, lots of fluff, family fluff, Anthony being cute, dialogue heavy, declarations of love.

Word count: 3.6k

Her hands shake uncontrollably as the carriage clatters through London. Taking calming breaths, (Y/N) does her best to stop her shaking hands by gripping her shawl tightly. Her maid, Jayne, looks over at her in concern. “We can always turn back, my lady,” Jayne whispers, “I’m sure Viscount Bridgerton won’t mind postponing to another day.”

(Y/N) smiles warmly at her maid; grateful for the care in her voice. However, she shakes her head. “I’m afraid it can’t wait any longer, Jayne. Anthony’s sister and her husband have travelled all the way from Scotland.”

Jayne sits back against the carriage bench, nodding her head understandingly. “I’m sure it’s going to be fine,” She offers in comfort.

“I can only hope,” (Y/N) whispers, casting her gaze out of window and into the London streets.

She had met Anthony Bridgerton when shopping for ribbons. An unusual time and place to meet anyone, but Anthony had strolled into the shop and asked to see the best ribbons in the place as nothing would be better than the absolute best for his nieces. (Y/N) had giggled at the tone of his voice; unused to seeing such a powerful figure in such intimate settings. Her laughter had drawn his attention to which a conversation began. By the end of the Viscount’s visit to the ribbon shop, he had asked to see her again.

The visits continued in secrecy, or in as much secrecy as one could afford when holding a peerage. The relationship blossomed; what was once considered a friendship was turning romantic, and (Y/N) could not help her feelings for the Viscount. He had captured her, body and soul. She counted every blessing that Anthony felt the same.

The first glimpse of Bridgerton House steals her breath away. The red brick stands out amongst the paler buildings; Anthony’s wealth already obvious but further personified by the sheer scale of his home. The sweet scent of the violet hyacinths perfume (Y/N)’s carriage; their aroma bringing a small smile to her face as she remembers a masquerade party in Chiswick, a balcony and Anthony’s hands on her waist.

Her carriage rolls to a natural stop; (Y/N)’s heart in her throat as she tears her inquiring gaze from Bridgerton House to Jayne. Jayne smiles and squeezes her lady’s hand, a silent offer of support for the afternoon.

“They’re going to love you,” Jayne whispers, bolstering (Y/N) as best she could as the door to the carriage is opened by (Y/N)’s footman.

Now closer, Bridgerton House is much grander. The deep green iron gates pronounce the family’s wealth further. (Y/N) gulps as she takes step after step down the path to already open front door. Her steps falter slightly as she catches sight of Anthony waiting in the entrance; his hair the usual untameable mess that endears her so.

“You came,” Anthony breathes in greeting; his eyes wide with barely concealed surprise as he takes in the sight of her on his doorstep.

“I came,” (Y/N) answers just as breathlessly. Even the sight of him was enough to leave her gasping for breath; there were moments in their prolonged courtship that she couldn’t quite believe he had chosen her, that he wanted her. As Anthony stands there, his white shirt unbuttoned from the collar with his waistcoat undone, she realises that this is the most casual she had ever seen him. His outfit wasn’t proper, but she doesn’t want it to be. She wants to see him from every angle; she wants to know every Anthony there is. So far, she had found herself besotted with each and every one.

Both remain silent as Anthony offers his arm to her. (Y/N) uses the silence to quash the nerves rioting in her gut; she had never been this nervous, not when she was presented in front of the monarch for her season, and not when she danced with the Prince of Wales at his birthday celebrations two years ago. Now, however, her nerves were beginning to get the better of her.

Anthony pauses their journey. “Are you okay?” He asks, a note of concern in his voice.

“I’m nervous,” (Y/N) confesses bashfully, “What if they don’t like me? What if they hate me so much that you end things? I’m having so much fun with you, Anthony. I don’t want this to end.”

“Hey,” Anthony whispers, taking her face in his hands, urging her to look at him, “You’re going to be fine. They’re going to love you, I know it. I’ve spoken about you so much they feel they already know you.”

“You talk about me?” (Y/N) asks, her voice small.

Anthony presses a kiss to her forehead. “Constantly. I’m surprised they haven’t kicked me out with how much I talk about you.”

“You’re really very sweet.”

“Only because of you,” He flirts, pushing his luck by kissing her quickly.

(Y/N) laughs softly against his mouth. “You’re incorrigible.”

Anthony laughs gently, pulling away from her lips but keeping hold of her hands. “I’m as nervous as you,” He confesses, “But I have you by my side to help me get through just as you have me through this too. Any time you want to go, let me know and I’ll call your carriage back round.”

“Thank you,” She whispers before Anthony continues on down the hall, his hand squeezing hers tightly.

“Are you sure you still want to do this?” Anthony asks, double checking, voice wavering as they stand outside the door to the drawing room. “My family can be a bit much to meet all at once.”

“We’re nothing of the sort!” A masculine voice shouts from behind the door.

A surprised laugh leaves (Y/N) lips. She covers her mouth to bring back the mask of perfect decorum, not wanting to insult a member of Anthony’s family. “I’m ready when you are,” She whispers, smiling at the eldest Bridgerton.

“Sooner rather than later,” Anthony whispers before opening the door, giving her the first glimpse at his family.

The Bridgerton brood sit around the large drawing room. Sisters and brothers, husbands and wives – they all mix together as they wait for Anthony and his new beau. Each all fall silent as Anthony and (Y/N) enters the room; their first glimpse of her, their first conversation with her. Anthony had spoken about her constantly but refused to let any family meet her until they were both ready.

Now that moment had arrived.

“Mother,” Anthony introduces to the silent room, “This is Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” (Y/N) exclaims, smiling at the Bridgerton matriarch. “I’ve heard so much about you all,” She continues, casting her gaze around the room.

“It’s a pleasure for us too, dear (Y/N),” Violet announces, “Anthony has been nothing but a ball of nerves since he announced you would be joining us.”

(Y/N) nods at the matriarch, feeling herself become speechless as she takes in the sheer size of Anthony’s family. It isn’t hard to tell who the Bridgertons are among the group are; they each have the same eyes and smile. “It’s lovely to meet you all,” (Y/N) announces, repeating her earlier words, unable to keep the nerves from entering her voice this time.

“I’m Benedict,” The second eldest introduces, jumping up from his seat on the couch, holding his hand out for her to take.

“The artist!” (Y/N) gasps, “I’ve seen some of your work. You’re exceptionally talented.”

“Thank you,” Benedict blushes, excusing himself with a pat to Anthony’s shoulder, a silent sign that Benedict already approves.

“Help yourself to some tea,” A younger woman exclaims in the brief silence between conversations, “I’d get up to greet you, but it would take twice as long as the conversation itself.”

“Please don’t strain yourself,” (Y/N) offers graciously, “Congratulations on your pregnancy.”

“Thank you, dear. I’m Daphne, and this is my husband, Simon.” Daphne introduces, her hand landing on the thigh of a handsome man.

“It’s lovely to meet you both,” (Y/N) greets, making her way to an empty seat at a nearby table. There she pours two cups of tea, one for her and one for Anthony, knowing he would be dropping by in a minute or two. The tea steeps as (Y/N) helps herself to one of the many biscuits, taking a small bite of the buttery concoction before reaching for the milk and sugar. This is a routine she has practiced many times before, knowing exactly how long to stir her tea so it wouldn’t burn the tip of her tongue with every sip.

It’s takes less than two minutes for someone to join her at the table. (Y/N) offers the young woman a polite smile, “I’m (Y/N).”

“Eloise Bridgerton,” introduces the young woman.

“A pleasure to meet you,” (Y/N) repeats, feeling herself already grow tired of the words.

“Are you educated, (Y/N)?” Eloise enquires; her keen blue gaze dancing over the young woman.

(Y/N) finishes her sip of tea before nodding at Anthony’s younger sister. “I am,” She answers, “I studied under a very thorough governess, and I am fluent in French and Latin, but I’ve also been fortunate enough to sit in on some lectures at Oxford and Edinburgh.”

“How?” Eloise all but demands, ignoring the stern stare of her mother as she leans forward, elbows on the table. “You must teach me your ways.”

(Y/N) represses an amused smile at Eloise’s antics. “My favourite cousin, Sylvester, was a student at both. I often annoyed him into letting me attend in secret whenever I visited.”

“Did you attend any interesting lectures?”

(Y/N) nods, happy to further indulge the brunette. “Sylvester was a student of medicine, beginning his education at Oxford before continuing on to Edinburgh where he lives now. I’ve attended a few medical lectures, but I pressured him into letting me attend a philosophical debate surrounding Wollstonecraft’s Vindication of the Rights of Woman.” (Y/N) shakes her head, amused at the memory, “Sylvester didn’t find that one nearly as thrilling as his medical lectures.”

“Anthony!” Eloise calls, gathering the attention of all her brothers, “I’m keeping (Y/N) for myself. You’re going to have to find a new beau, I’m afraid.”

Anthony chuckles, leaving his brothers to their own conversation. “Pray,” He begins, “Just what are the two of you talking about.”

“(Y/N)’s education. Did you know she’s sat in lectures at both Oxford and Edinburgh? I daresay I might attend a few myself.”

Anthony’s hand lands on your shoulder; a warm squeeze has you turning to meet his stare. His smile is fond; his eyes are bright with happiness. “Are you inciting further rebellion in my little sister?”

“Of course not,” (Y/N) playfully scoffs, “Just letting her know that should she want to attend any lectures, I have a connection for her.”

A laugh leaves Anthony’s lips as he catches sight of Eloise’s excited wiggle in her chair. “I’m glad you’re getting along,” He murmurs to (Y/N) quietly, dropping an unexpected kiss to her hair before entering a debate with Eloise, explaining why she cannot go about interrupting lectures at prestigious universities.

Leaving the siblings to their bickering, (Y/N) stands from table, wanting to stretch her legs and discover more to the drawing room. By this point in the afternoon, the appeal of company has worn off. The large family now broken off into their own conversations; Francesca and Michael remain sat close together on the couch under the window, Lady Violet remains sat by her eldest daughter – the matriarch keeping a weather eye on her pregnant daughter.

(Y/N) smiles fondly at the scene before turning to one of the many fixed bookshelves in the room; leather bound volumes line the shelves. There wasn’t much for light reading, she thinks to herself as she reads the spines. Much about the War of the Roses and the subsequent Tudor reign, not much in the way of Miss Butterworth and the Mad Baron.

“You’re very pretty,” A young girl announces from behind (Y/N). She turns to find two girls, both no older than four or five, their hair matching pigtails, curled into ringlets.

(Y/N) kneels to their height, ignoring the pinching of her corset as she smiles at the young children. “Why thank you,” She states gratefully, “But you know what I would really like?”

“What?” The eldest of the two asks, leaning forward in anticipation.

“Gorgeous pigtails like yours,” (Y/N) smiles, gesturing to their hair.

Both girls break into wide smiles, already won over. “What are your names?” (Y/N) asks.

“I’m Amelia,” The eldest states proudly, “I’m five and a half.”

“I’m Belinda,” The second girl introduces, “I’m four.”

“Well it is lovely to meet you both,” (Y/N) compliments, “My name is (Y/N).”

“We know,” Belinda chimes. “Uncle Tony talks about you all the time.”

“He does, does he?” She murmurs amused; catching sight of the brunette doing his best not to intervene on the conversation taking place with his nieces.

Amelia nods. “All the time!” She cries happily. “He talks about your hair, your eyes, your smile.” She breaks off, leaning towards (Y/N) to whisper in her ear. “I think he’s in love with you.”

“Do you think?” (Y/N) questions, unable to keep the eager hope from her voice.

“I know,” Amelia nods sagely, “I heard Uncle Tony tell Mama and Papa.”

(Y/N) presses her lips together to keep the wide smile from growing across her face. She had known that Anthony felt very deeply for her though he had never uttered a word. With a quick glance in Anthony’s direction, she gestures for the two girls to come closer. “Can you keep a secret?”

Amelia and Belinda nod silently; too excited to hear what (Y/N) has to say. “It just so happens,” (Y/N) whispers to the two girls, “That I also love your Uncle Tony.”

“You do?” Belinda squeaks.

“I do,” (Y/N) nods seriously, “I love him very much.”

“Are you going to tell him?” Amelia asks; her blue eyes wide with burning curiosity.

“I think on some level he already knows, but I plan on telling him very soon.”

Both girls squeal in happiness, leaving (Y/N) behind as they run towards their parents. Daphne and Simon greet their children with open arms, wide eyed at their level of noise as they demand their voices to be heard over the hubbub of the rest of the family.

“I don’t suppose you’d enlighten me to this particular conversation,” A warm voice sounds from behind her. The way his arm slips around her waist, as if it were his home, tells (Y/N) that Anthony has found her once more.

“A secret for another day,” (Y/N) teases, turning to face the man that had captured her heart so wholly.

“Will you tell me later?” He asks, pushing out his bottom lip in a pout that has her giggling.

“Perhaps,” She whispers, leaning ever closer to the Bridgerton. “Only if you promise me something.”

“Anything,” He whispers seriously, “I’d give you the world if I could.”

“I know you would,” She murmurs, “But all I’m asking for is for you to not pester your nieces over what I told them.”

“How did you know?” Anthony asks, voice glum.

(Y/N) brings a gloved hand to his cheek, her thumb brushing his cheekbone. “Because I know you, my dear.”

Anthony leans into the touch, turning his face slightly to press a kiss to her wrist. “I like being your dear.”

“I like being yours too,” She replies earnestly. “Now, I’ve spoken to most of your siblings. Do me the honour of introducing me to Francesca, she came all the way from Scotland, it’s rude that I’ve neglected her.”

“Yes, my darling,” Anthony responds, taking her hand and leading her to the couch where Francesca sits with her husband, Michael.

The day continues in a similar fashion. Bridgerton House had never been quiet when the whole family was in attendance; raucous laughter and loving bickering filled its many corners with noise. The life and laughter of the family bringing the house to life.

As the grandfather clock ticks closer and closer to the evening, (Y/N) finds herself lamenting the fact that she must leave the Bridgerton family so soon.

“I must take my leave,” She announces to sad cries to Amelia and Belinda, already so attached.

“So soon?” Benedict asks, frowning as he wonders when he’ll get to continues his conversation with her. So few wanted to talk about art nowadays.

(Y/N) meets Anthony’s gaze, hating how sad he looks. “I’m having dinner with my parents and their friends. An occasion I simply cannot miss, I’m afraid.”

“Do we know them?” Violet asks in an attempt to delay the inevitable. She had grown fond of the young woman over the course of the afternoon, seeing how perfectly she fit amongst her family, how she brought out the best in her eldest son.

“The St. Clair’s?” (Y/N) enquires, drawing her shawl around her shoulders. “My father has worked with Lady Danbury’s family for a long time. Gareth and I are old friends.”

“Have a wonderful time,” Violet announces, “But please visit us soon.”

“I would love to,” (Y/N) smiles, crossing the room to be by Anthony’s side.

Offering her goodbyes to the large family, (Y/N) takes Anthony’s offered arm, hooking hers through his as they descend the grand marble staircase to the foyer. “Your family are lovely,” (Y/N) compliments as she takes care not to trip over her skirts on the stairs. “You all care for each so much, it’s clear the moment you enter the room.”

“My mother and siblings are the best people I know,” Anthony murmurs, walking beside (Y/N) at a steady pace in order to delay her departure by a minute.

“I can only hope they liked me,” She worries, her teeth biting into her bottom lip in a way that has Anthony restraining himself by gripping her arm tighter.

“You were wonderful,” Anthony murmurs, pressing a lingering kiss to her cheekbone before helping her into her carriage.

“Thank you for today,” (Y/N) calls, sticking her hand from the window to prolong the contact between Anthony and herself. She wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye; wasn’t quite ready to leave him.

“Thank you for coming,” Anthony answers, kissing her hand before tucking it back through the window of her carriage. If they didn’t say goodbye now, they wouldn’t say goodbye at all. If she didn’t leave, he would most likely offer marriage on the pavement than somewhere proper.

Nodding to her footman, Anthony watches her carriage leave. He stands on the doorstep to Bridgerton House until her carriage is no longer in sight. Only then does he let himself release the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Weariness washes over him as he turns to face his childhood home. Inside, in his mother’s drawing room, await his family. Each one ready to give their verdict on the woman he has had the good fortune to fall in love with.

Sighing, he kicks at the ground, knowing he cannot delay this any longer.

His mother and siblings are where he left them; his mother’s drawing room. They fall silent at the sight of him; each clearly unwilling to make the leap and be the first to broach the elephant in the room.

“What do you think of (Y/N)?” Anthony asks; voice loud in the ever so silent room. He meets the eyes of each of his siblings, not missing the way Daphne leans into Simon or the way Michael reaches for Francesca’s hand. They’ve all found their love matches; it was now Anthony’s turn.

Colin takes the fall for his family, standing to face his eldest brother and titled peer. He clears his throat, fidgeting on the spot before he eventually pauses all movement, breaking into a smile to declare, “We all loved her!”

“You do?” Anthony asks, falling onto a nearby couch in shock.

Violet smiles at her eldest son. “We do. (Y/N) is a sweetheart and looks to be just as taken with you as you are with her.”

Blush begins to paint Anthony’s cheeks. “I can only hope, dear mother.”

“It’s true,” Amelia chimes, her young face bright with joy. “She told Belinda and I.”

“You have found your love match, my darling boy,” Violet states warmly.

“It does help that (Y/N) is a trifle more tolerable than you, dear brother,” Benedict teases, laughter bright in his Bridgerton blue eyes.

“And so educated!” Eloise gasps, “We had an enlightening conversation about Wollstonecraft’s Vindication on the Rights of Women.”

“She was wonderful with Amelia and Belinda,” Daphne murmurs, her hand falling protectively over her pregnant stomach.

“Why do I get the feeling that you prefer (Y/N) to me?” Anthony murmurs, mischief bright in his eyes and evident in his voice.

“That’s exactly what we’re saying,” Gregory points out, “I only hope (Y/N) can keep up with your obsession with Pall Mall.”

“A worthy obsession,” Anthony argues, mind wandering to the games he could play with (Y/N).

“She’s wonderful,” Violet interrupts, a large smile on her face as she takes the final say.

Anthony smiles widely at his mother; constantly grateful for her love and care throughout his life. She had been lost after the death of his father, as had Anthony, but Anthony had never truly understood what it would feel like to lose someone you love as wholeheartedly as his mother loved his father.

Until now, that is. The mere thought of losing her sends a lance of pain through his chest, cutting short his breath and increasing his panic. Anthony shakes his head to rid himself of such thoughts and feelings.

Calm enough, he faces his family once more. “I plan on proposing to (Y/N),” He announces, showing his family the ring box that has been sitting heavily in his trouser pocket all day.

“Thank goodness,” Francesca murmurs, smiling indulgently at her big brother. “I cannot wait to call her sister.”

“Indeed,” Anthony murmurs, a loving smile on his face, “I cannot wait to call her my wife.”

******

Bridgerton taglist: @heloisedaphnebrightmore @dreaming-about-fanfictions @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown @janelongxox @sexysirius @wallwriterstuff @magicalxdaydream @darkestbeforethedawn16 @gryffindors-weasley @spideysz @iammirrorball @writeroutoftime @joyfullymulti @nuttytani @multifandomfix @freyathehuntress @lespaceboi

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wearywinchester · 3 years

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Patience

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean takes care of you after a rough hunt.

Requested by Anonymous: May I please request dean taking care of the reader after she had a surgery after a rough hunt?? I would love to see how he helps her while she's recovering. I can already imagine being overly protective and being adorable and cute and all worried

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: injuries, blood, angst, mild swearing, mentions of alcohol, fluff, kissing

The hunt went rough, not as bad as others had been in your years of hunting, but enough to land you in the hospital with a concussion and the need for stitches not even Dean could handle himself. He was a nervous wreck the two days you’d spent there, he’d never admit it but he was. When you’d first woken up, you were too tired to do more than open your eyes the slightest bit to find your beau with his head resting against his arm, hand heavy in yours as his eyes focused on the tv in the corner of the room. You recalled his leg bouncing the way it does when he’s worked up about something, offering your hand the occasional squeeze.

Once he’d seen you were awake, it had really started to show no matter how he tried to play it off. Dean Winchester was a worrier for everyone but himself. He was too afraid to lay down next to you just in case he might have jostled you around too much, he didn’t want to make anything worse. Despite that, he’d still been brooding a bit, sulking in his seat as he held your hand and thought he’d been the biggest idiot to let that spirit snag you like that. He didn’t even want you on the hunt in the first place, but you were you and you’d insisted on going. He was never one to hold you back on what you wanted to do but he certainly wished he did just that once.

Now, you were spending the next few days at Jodie’s cabin tucked away in the woods. She’d joined in on the case since she was in town, and there was no arguing your way out of staying with her to let you recover for a few days, not that you minded either. Her cabin was always one you were thrilled to stay in whenever there was time to stay, so talking you into doing so was simple as ever.

Dean was tangled up in worry, not ten minutes going by before he asked if you needed anything. The sight of you in pain made his jaw tense and his cheeks to burn a soft shade of pink because it tore him up to see you struggle. It tore him up that it was something he felt could have been prevented had he done something different. But he kept it to himself, having pushed it to the corners of his mind to torment himself with later once you’re comfortable and at ease.

You, on the other hand, were as frustrated as ever. No matter how much you loved and appreciated Dean’s efforts and his concerns, your independence was wearing away at you. It took everything in you not to burst into tears over the simple fact that you couldn’t drive for the time being, let alone take a shower unaided over the risk of you falling and doing more harm than good. The inconveniences were piling up, a new one being discovered seemingly every other minute.

It was building up; the frustration and desire to do things on your own just as they had been before this all happened was picking at you. So much so, the littlest things were rapidly beginning to irritate you, leaving you to be aggravated and on the brink of tears when something so little as dropping something or not being able to reach something had pushed your limits.

It was nothing Dean had done, not even a little. He was being as generous and helpful as he always was despite the way you could be grumpy. The thought alone was enough to calm you some, but not every time.

This time you’d finally done it.

You found yourself in the kitchen, grabbing a couple beers from the fridge after you’d insisted to Dean that you could handle it on your own. Bobby and Donna had been over, followed by Benny and Charlie and Garth. It was a little get together out back by the lake. It was fun, it was relaxing, it was a nice little break from hunting.

Until now.

You spun on your heel just a little faster than your body could keep up with, your balance wavering and leaving you to stumble into the edge of the countertop before you had the chance to catch yourself. You let out a strangled yelp as the unforgiving corner had jabbed into your side, your gasp sharp as you turned away in fear of it happening again. The bottles in your hand clattered to the floor and broke, beer seeping out in a wet puddle of broken glass. The quick steps distinctive to Dean’s boots had sounded as your hands guarded your side, and it wasn’t until Dean had rushed in that you noticed. It wasn’t until his eyes landed on your side, wide and concerned that you’d noticed.

When you looked down your shirt was beginning to stain a fresh and startling shade of scarlet, hands smudging the very same color across your skin in a matter of moments.

“Sweetheart, what happe—”

“I got it, Dean,” you rush, grabbing the towel sitting nearby, frustration simmering in your stomach as you try not to think about the tears pressing behind your eyes.

“Y/n, you’re bleeding. Let me help you.”

“I said I got it!” You say, louder as you push his hands away. His gaze lifts to yours, a bit taken back as he stands a little straighter from his spot in front of you. It wasn’t your anger or your tone that he cared about, what bothered him was the tears glossing over your eyes and the quiver in your lip. It was the way your brows furrowed as those very tears spilled over heated cheeks. The way your words faltered under the pressure of those tears. “I got it. I’m—I’m fine.”

Your voice was fragile and entirely telling of how very not fine you were. You’d let your anger get the better of you and that only made everything worse, your fists clenching as your cheeks burned.

“Sweetheart,” he says, soft as ever as he steals your attention. You look at him after a moment, averting your gaze just as quickly to hide your tears. “Why don’t you let me take a look at that, okay?”

Your jaw tenses as you nod, the towel still clutched ever so tightly within your palm as you dropped your hand to your side, heart pounding in your chest. He was gentle as he peeled back your shirt and the bandage underneath it, the stitches in your side still having been intact though they were angry and they were red, the wound still more than sensitive as it bled lightly from impact. You were embarrassed as you stood there, guilt eating at you for snapping at the man in front of you when your anger should have stayed directed at yourself.

He was gentle as he snagged the towel from your hands, stepping over the mess on the floor to wet the towel at the sink. He grabbed the first aid kit from one of the cupboards too, setting it down and opening it a while.

The heat in your cheeks had continued to burn as you looked away from his gaze, lip quivering as your eyes clouded and blurred once more at the mere thought of everything that just happened in the span of two minutes.

It wasn’t long before you felt the coolness of the towel against your stomach, relief washing over the irritated skin as he wiped away the blood that had formed over it.

“You okay?” He asks, calm and kind as he pauses.

It wasn’t until you nodded that he continued, setting the dirtied towel off to the side as he grabbed a fresh bandage. You let your gaze fall to him in that moment, watching as his tongue poked out in concentration as he smoothed the bandage securely over your stitches. He didn’t look angry at your outburst, he didn’t look annoyed, not even a little bit. You felt you deserved some of that but it never came. He was patient and kind. He may have been a little rough around the edges sometimes, and he may have been a grump others. But he was also tender and caring, and it only made guilt tug at your heart.

He stood upright when he finished, flashing you a smile as he grabbed your hand and tugged you off to the spare bedroom the two of you shared while you stayed there. You watched quietly as he rifled through his duffle bag without much care about everything that spilled out of it in the current moment. He was in search of the one thing that was sure to bring a smile to your face.

“Aha!” He cheered when he caught sight of it, snagging the shirt from the bottom of his bag.

It was an old t shirt of his, tattered and torn in spots, one that always smelled of his cologne even if it’d faded some. It was your favorite shirt of his and that was something he very well knew even if you thought he wasn’t aware of it. Little did you know he brought it in his bag on every hunt no matter what should you need a pick-me-up, should you need an extra push of comfort. He’ll always bring it.

The very corners of your mouth quirked up and the softest grin, his own having widened. “There’s that smile.”

You flash him a look as you fight to stifle the way that very smile was growing, but you couldn’t find it in you to last all of two seconds trying. You snag the shirt from his outstretched hand and move to peel off your own, and no matter how much Dean had wanted to help you, just to keep that wince from appearing on your face, he lets you do it on your own because he knows how much it meant to you to have to be able to do something on your own while you recovered.

Your shoulders slump once you put it on, smile fading once more when you look at him and his brows furrow slightly in a silent question of what’s the matter.

After a moment or two or you mind racing a mile a minute of just how you should apologize, just how you should make it up to him, you finally make up your mind on the only way you know how to do that. And after a moment or two you lean on your toes and press a kiss to his lips, soft and sweet as your hands squeeze his.

“‘M sorry,” you whisper against his lips, the guilt of snapping at him still heavy in your heart.

He chuckles softly, forehead pressed to his as his nose bumps against yours. He steals a few more quick kisses, his smile still very much there.

“Sweetheart, do you know how many times I’ve been a pain in the ass when I was hurt?” He said, pulling back to look at you. He kisses away your frown the moment he sees it, his hand coming up to swipe away the stray tear on your face. “You don’t have to be sorry for bein’ frustrated, and even if you were a pain I’d still take care of you.”

You bite the inside of your cheek but he sees your smile anyway. “You’re terrible at accepting apologies, you know.”

“Or maybe you’re just terrible at givin’ them,” he jests, laughing out when you swat his shoulder. “‘M kidding!”

“Yeah, I’ll bet you are,” you sigh, smiling up at him as you shake your head.

“But seriously, sweetheart, cleaning up a couple of beers ain’t gonna kill me. I promise. Besides, I didn’t like that brand anyway.”

Your eyes roll and a laugh falls past your lips, lips he dipped down to kiss more than a couple times more in that moment. You knew that wasn’t going to be the last of your apologies that day because you still felt bad and he knew that. But for now you’d settle for the smile he’d always put on your face because no matter what, he’d be there in a heartbeat with all the patience in the world.

Through thick and thin, attitude and all, he would be there.

—

Tags: @flamencodiva @stixnstripesworld @dean-is-sams-apple-pie @elegantbutedgy @humanmistakes @agalliasi @campingmonkey

#dean winchester #dean winchester oneshot #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x you

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saphirered · 3 years

Note

Hi welcome back! Hope you’re doing well. Random question b4 my request, bc I want to give back as thanks for the great writing: are you a coffee, tea, or hot chocolate/cocoa drinker? I prefer hot chocolate and sweet tea.

How would the m9 respond to an SO/friend with a kid? Where the reader is a single parent with a child of at most 10 years old. Thanks :)

- 🐋

This took a while to write so sorry for that 😅. I'm so glad you like my writing! I love writing for you lot. I'm definitely a hot cocoa person. I hope this one turned out to your liking 😘.

----------

Caleb:

You never hid the fact you had a child from Caleb, if anything you’re proud of them. Though, you do know in certain company it’s better to keep that fact a secret for safety reasons. Caleb understands that fully he respects and admires you always put your child’s best interests first.

This is why when you began getting more involved with Caleb you kept your child out of it and took a good amount of time before introducing them to the wizard. You didn’t want to set expectations for both sides and wanted to protect and preserve them both should what you and Caleb had going not work out after all.

It’s no surprise Caleb is good with children. He takes a gentle approach when it comes to all things good in this world to the point of almost being afraid to ‘ruin it’. You assured him many times he was in the clear and how could his heart not warm at the curiosity and search for knowledge your child was already displaying.

With your permission Caleb began teaching your child some things here and there. The theoretics of magic and eventually simple spells. The smile it brought to their faces while they worked couldn’t make you happier. Caleb definitely earned your child’s approval to stick around.

Beau:

At first Beau is surprised. She knows children come from somewhere of course. She’s not stupid but actually tying a child to their parent let alone being very close to that parent is a whole new story. Especially learning you raised your child on your own and seeing you want to provide what’s best for them definitely earns you her respect, not having a parent with the same motivation herself and all.

The day of introductions came along and as expected Beau is the most awkward, trying not to be a terrible influence and be on her best behaviour, makes her very much on edge. An perceptive child picking up on this awkward behaviour calling her out leaving her cursing like a sailor, then apologising for said curses, even less of a surprise. You had to assure her many times it was fine.

Beau makes a promise that no matter what, she’ll make sure you’ll be returning to your child and make sure they get the love and support they deserve. Growing up without loving parents is one thing. Growing up an orphan another. She’d do everything in her power to keep you safe.

It may have began with joking comments such as ‘finish your homework’ to ‘do the dishes’ and ‘be nice to your parent while I’m gone’ but it didn’t take long before Beau was helping them with their homework or cleaning dishes after you cooked.

Absolutely treats your child as someone capable of making decisions of their own and speaking for themselves. No baby voices or cooing like too many adults tend to do even to a child regardless of their age. Your child has thoughts and opinions of their own and for the love of all that is sacred, can speak for themselves. You’re glad Beau treats them with a sense of maturity.

Fjord:

Fjord may have done what can only be referred to as a spit take the moment you said you had a child. Clearly didn’t expect it but giving him time to recover and process he’d ask all sorts of questions. What are they like? What do they like? And of course the dreaded question about your partner.

Supportive Fjord for the win. After finding out you’re on your own he’d always have your back, checking in with you and making sure you’re doing alright amidst the stress of the world and raising a child in the mix of it all. He’d open up to you about his past and being raised without any kind of proper parental figure. What he wouldn’t have done to have someone like you around when it counted for him.

Introducing them went rather smoothly. Fjord is surprisingly good with children. While some might find him intimidating, he nearly melted when your child embraced him as a thank you for looking out for you. Fjord was happy to answer any and all questions your child asked.

Whenever you’d be swept away for a while having to leave your child in the care of your trusted ones, Fjord would tell your child to ‘have the wheel, sailor’ which they would return with a salute before biding you both goodbye. Fjord slowly transcended into a bit of a father role and none of you minded in the least. You were happy.

Veth:

When she spoke of her boy she left behind you pitied her. A child shouldn’t be without their family. They deserved to be loved and sheltered from the darkness of the world until they are ready. When you told her you had one of your own Veth really felt safe to confide in you with her worries and troubles. You bonded over it really, drowning out all the sad stories and struggles with fond memories of both your families. Sadly for you, that would only extend to you and your child, the memories of their other parent perhaps somewhat painful to share.

You wondered what it would be like if your children ever got to meet in person. Then the day came. Nicodranas really had a way of bringing families together didn’t it? First time may have been a bit strange, your child being fully aware of Veth’s need for a disguise with her son, played their part well. Both you and Veth may have wiped away some tears when Luc claimed your child their big sibling from now on, and you his third parent.

Work and life are a difficult combination for Veth. She wants nothing more than to be with Yeza and take care of her boy but as long as the world’s in peril and her other family needs her just as much if not more, she’ll have to leave them behind. Knowing that you and your child are with her husband and son when she can’t be eases her mind a lot and she’s forever grateful.

It goes unsaid that Veth’s time away from children and in the presence of adults, specifically the Mighty Nein may have left her a bit out of the routines of raising a child as shown by giving Luc and your child fireworks, promising them to teach them how to shoot a crossbow and more. You did have to hold her back a little with the help of Yeza and keep things a bit more contained for their safety, but mostly yours.

Jester:

Of course upon learning you’re raising your child all by yourself Jester goes onto a rant about how her and her mom were always alone and how Marion used to read stories to her and do you read stories to your child and do you sing to them and draw with them and give them hugs and cuddles after nightmares and… You have no idea how that girl doesn’t run out of breath.

Jester couldn’t be anyone but herself when meeting your child asking about their interests, do they like to draw and sing and dance and… You ran out of breath just listening to her talk and your child replying in similar fashion. Everything went quite well and the two of them got along. Jester would be singing them songs and teaching them how to draw resulting in many dick drawings randomly appearing in your books, notes and other places, followed by mischievous giggles.

Having bought your child a lovely green cloak and letting them pretend they’re the Traveler here to spread mischief and fun and leave behind many phallic shaped objects drawn and carved wherever possible sent you all in laughing fits but you swore you heard a more masculine chuckle and saw a green cloak fade into the shadows. Odd.

What only can be summed up as the combination between big sibling, fun wine cupcake aunt and mom, remained a constant in your life and you couldn’t be more thankful to have that ray of sunshine be there for all of you.

Caduceus:

Caduceus is very calm and collected about learning you have a child. Less of a response than perhaps anyone else perviously unknowing. “That’s nice.” He’d nod. You’d almost start thinking he may have been able to read it off you for some reason. He confirmed he was, the tired eyes, and the recovery of exasperation at times but sense of accomplishment and reward was a look he had seen from his own mother many times.

“You’re weird.” A stare down ensued. “You’re weird too.” Eyes sharpened. “I like you.” The ice broke and smiles followed. For a moment you were afraid that maybe your child wouldn’t like the odd firbolg and thinking about how you would keep friends and family separate but a wave of relief went over you knowing that all was well between the two most valuable people in your life.

You’d be handed a fresh cup of tea by your child, a plate of snacks by Caduceus, all too innocent smiles on their faces but all it took was a raised eyebrow from you to have them come clean about the kitchen being covered in soil from the two of them potting new plants, turning your home and garden in what can only be described as a greenhouse and rather ask for forgiveness than permission. You weren’t mad of course, but did make them clean the mess they made.

You’re still unsure whether or not it was a good or bad idea introducing your child to the extended Clay family as you got some insight in the chaotic prank wars between the siblings and all together sibling rivalry among some of them. It’s all fun and games of course but some moments you were glad you weren’t the one pelted with mud pies by Calliope or pushed into the spring by Calliope herself. Instead you could just enjoy Clarabelle’s bug collection with your child while laughing at the other’s being covered in mud and soaked to the bone.

Yasha:

Poor Yasha doesn’t recall much of a family. In reality she never really felt like she had one until the circus, and after them the Nein. When she saw you and your child together, the unconditional love you had for each other, she felt like she finally realised what she had been missing, and something she perhaps would never have. She learned the value of such a relationship.

Yasha has no idea how to interact with children at any level and by default tends to treat them as either adults, or cute animals. No in between. It took her some time to get the hang of it but you couldn’t deny both you and your child rather enjoyed the unconventional relationship.

The wastes and hardships of Xhorhas may force a child to grow up quickly in the tribes but that doesn’t mean children outside of those regions have to learn how to wield a sword and what bugs you can and cannot eat or how to best skin an animal before eating it… It took some convincing why that was not a necessary skill to learn at the tender age of ten.

You compromised with Yasha on the fighting in the end, persuaded by the woman and your child to allow her to teach them some fighting basics because someone’ has to have your back when Yasha’s not there. You did manage to hold them off on purchasing a sword perhaps too large for your child despite the ‘they’ll grow into it’ reasoning and instead settled on training equipment instead.

Mollymauk:

Oh Mollymauk, nothing surprises this one. He felt rather sorry for you going through the struggles of raising a child alone. He may not remember his own family but he’s traveled far and wide enough to know the hardships. He knows poor Toya and he admires you for being able to do what so many can’t or won’t.

It goes unsaid that Molly is perhaps the worst of influences when it comes to people but you’ve seen him interact with Toya before and know well enough he’s a kind and caring soul who wants only the best for those who can’t just yet fend for themselves. It’s a good foundation that leads to a better person. He jokingly claims himself proof of that through the carnival and him ‘being an absolute asshole’.

Molly’s soft side really does come out whenever he’s around your child. He doesn’t deliberately censor himself but tries to contain certain words and avoid certain subjects that should never be discussed around your child knowing you’d appreciate it and if he does let something slip and your child ask questions he’d gently explain it as certain things should definitely not be described in gory detail to someone of their age.

This circus man is not afraid to put on a show in any circumstance and will happily do so to cheer you or your child up whenever you’re feeling a bit down or overworked. Whether he’s making a fool of himself, giving you bogus card readings, juggle his swords or tell the most ridiculous stories ever he’d do it without a second thought because it brings you and your child joy. You’re part of his family and he’d go to hell and back again for you.

#critical role #critical role x reader #mighty nein x reader #mighty nein #caleb x reader #caleb widogast x reader #beauregard x reader #fjord x reader #veth x reader #nott x reader #jester x reader #caduceus x reader #yasha x reader #mollymauk x reader #critrole x reader

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comfyswitcherblanketfort · 4 years

Text

Snowed In

Y'all, the quarantine hit hard. This fic is 100% self serving but I'm posting it in case it makes anyone else feel better? To add some spicy self loathing to my day? who knows.

No legit pairings, a tiny bit of hinting angstiness, for the sake of form, Geralt x fem!reader

Warnings: defs big warning for anxiety and depression. I don't think there's anything else? Lmk if there is and I'll edit this.

__________

“Snowed in?” you repeated, having just packed everything up and saddled both Roach and your horse Beau.

Geralt nodded grimly, “We’ll just have to hope Jaskier hears of the weather before he tries to make it here. The mail carrier is refusing to ride the pass.”

You heaved your saddlebags down with a slightly over dramatic grunt before turning to face him, “Is it a passing storm or do they think it’s headed for us?”

He shrugged and began untacking Roach, “You’ll have to ask the innkeeper. I just heard from someone who was turned back.”

You both finished putting the horses back in their stalls, throwing a little extra hay over the side in case you didn’t want to face the cold after dinner. The innkeeper looked frantic, attempting to deal with about five angry customers, so you headed for the connected tavern instead. In your experience, bartenders knew more scuttlebutt anyway.

Surprisingly you two were the only ones in the bar. The pretty blonde poured the two of you a beer and slapped a loaf of bread down between you before you could utter a word of request. Something rather unusual since traveling with Geralt.

“How long do you think this will last?” you asked, handing the woman a couple of gold coins.

She shrugged, “Last year it was mild. Just a week I think? But the year before that the town was stuck for almost a month.”

“Hm- huh? What day is it?” you mumbled as Geralt shook you awake.

“Twenty-three. Get up.” He ordered. The process had become routine. The two of you were stuck in a rather small room together due to overcrowding and you weren’t handling the idle time very well.

Geralt seemed completely content to meditate by the fire and meticulously repair his armor for the rest of eternity. While you had quickly become catatonic.

You sat up only because you knew he would lift you out of the bed completely if you didn’t do it yourself, “Ah yes, what a beautiful day to feed the horses and drink our weight in ale.”

The sarcasm dripping from your voice only earned a stern look from your roommate. The inn had run out of the drinkable stuff last week and they were rationing little the piss water they had left.

You scratched at your hair, your hand recoiling at the feel of grease. There was nothing to do, the floor space between the bed and the fire was barely big enough for Geralt to sit cross-legged, let alone for you to do any sort of exercise to keep your mood up. Not that you would if you could anyway. Any motivation to keep some sort of normalcy had left your body around day ten. The innkeeper had let some guests spar in the lobby around day six but everyone scattered when you had attempted to join. Something about ‘the witcher’s girl’ and how ‘she might gut you out of habit’. People could be stupid, you weren’t a witcher any more than they were and even so, Geralt was calmer and more restrained than all of them combined.

So, embracing the numbness, you stayed in bed well into the afternoon and long after Geralt had left his side of the bed.

“Did I miss breakfast again?” you asked, not making a move to get any farther from your warm blankets.

Geralt nodded, pointing to the small table near the door where some bread, cheese, and dried meat sat waiting.

You picked at it for his benefit, though you hadn’t really been hungry for a few days now. The storm raging outside was just about as strong as the one raging through your hollow insides. This inaction, the unknowing, the vulnerability was killing you.

“Y/N, you need to eat more than the crumbs.” Geralt urged, moving to sit in the chair opposite to you.

“I tried.” You sighed, “Can’t I just lay back down?”

He shook his head, “No. You’re letting this consume you. You’re tougher than this.”

You scowled at him, wanting to throw the bread in his face, “Fuck you. Nothing bothers you.”

“Your behavior is bothering me.” he countered, staring at you with a mix of worry and annoyance.

“Well isn’t that touching.” You sighed in mock flattery. Abandoning any idea of food, you got up to sit by the fire, poking at it aggressively with an iron rod and making a point to face away from him.

“What in the spheres is your problem?” He growled.

“Being stuck here with nothing to do?” you offered, your tone reminiscent of the young spoiled princess the two of you had saved from a wraith a few months back.

“That’s not it. I know when you’re lying Y/N”

Your limbs felt like they might float away into the air if you didn’t curl up into a ball, “I don’t want to talk about it Geralt. I’m sorry for snapping. I just need a couple of minutes.”

“You’ve needed ‘a couple of minutes’ for the past two weeks. Time to talk.” he argued.

You snorted, “That’s rich coming from you. You didn’t tell me you’d been stabbed until right before you passed out in Temeria.”

“I’ve tried learning from my mistakes.” his tone was one of convincing the both of you, “What's bothering you? Really.”

“I don’t fucking know Geralt.” you hissed, getting very tired of his prying.

You heard him sit back and cross his arms, “Not good enough.”

You felt the words leave your throat before you could think of their meaning, spewing out with vitriol and fire, “I’m fucking tired. I’m tired of you telling me what to do. I’m tired of watching snow pile up out the damn window. I’m tired of the stupid couple that fucks all night next door. I’m tired of this worry that feels like it will rip me apart at any fucking moment from just not fucking knowing. I’m tired of worrying about Jaskier. I’m tired of worrying about the horses getting stocked up when there’s nothing I can do to help them. I’m tired of the glares from the other guests. I’m tired of feeling powerless. I’m tired of having no decent outlet for this anxious energy I’m stuck with. I’m tired of not knowing when this feeling will go away. And I’m absolutely fucking exhausted by the thought that it’s only been twenty-fucking-three days yet I feel I’ve been trapped here for a god-damned-eternity.”

The last sentence broke your resolve to stay angry. Upon pushing the last words from your lungs, you heaved a deep breath and let the sobs tear your chest apart, giving in to the hopelessness that had been building for weeks now.

You heard a shuffling that registered in the back of your mind as Geralt sitting behind you, but even so, you flinched when a hand rested on your shoulders. He scooped one hand under your knees and pulled you onto his lap, pulling a blanket from the bed and wrapping it around the two of you. He let you sob until the sobs turned to whimpers.

“I didn’t realize, I’m sorry Y/N” he whispered, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your hair, sending a flood of warmth to your cheeks.

“You don’t need to be.” you croaked, leaning into his affection.

“I didn’t need to pry either.” He argued.

You just hummed in reply, too much of your energy spent on purging your system of those hideous sobs. You did make a noise of protest when he lifted you from his lap and set you beside him on the floor.

“Stay by the fire, I’ll be back.” He instructed, the tenderness of his voice surprising you.

Minutes later, as you were beginning to pull yourself back together, he returned with a terry cloth robe and what smelled like fresh jasmine soap. Without a word, he hoisted you into his arms and carried you across the room to the bathroom. He set you on your feet and handed you the robe and soap before turning his attention to the lever pump hanging over the ceramic tub.

“A bath?” You tried to bring your usual playful tone back to life and failed miserably.

“Does it make you uncomfortable?”

You shook your head, “I’m just…” slightly disoriented? you finished the sentence in your head, not sure how to phrase it.

“Not used to anyone accommodating your emotions.” he finished, a knowing look in his eyes reminding you just how much he knew of isolation and pain.

As you nodded you had to mentally remind yourself you have to let people help you, that it’s okay to let people help you.

You didn’t bother waiting for him to leave before you peeled off your riding breeches. Melitele only knows how long you’d gone without changing them. You had more trouble unlacing the cinched waist blouse you’d been wearing the last four days. The restless tossing and turning you’d done instead of sleeping had it knotted four times over. When you’d finally rid yourself of every last thread the tub was full.

Geralt traced a sign in the water, sending ripples over the surface and steam up in the air, “Shouldn’t be too hot, but test it first.” He mumbled, making an effort not to stare at you too long.

It was rather hot but you had exposed yourself enough for one day. You took the hand he offered for balance and sank into the nearly scalding water without hesitation.

He knelt next to you, “If you wish to be alone-”

“No.” You interrupted, not having the courage to look up at him, “Please don’t go.” The words barely escaped your mouth, but Geralt heard them perfectly fine.

He wet a washcloth and lathered it with soap before handing it off to you. With the rest of the bar, he began washing your hair. At first, his hands were hesitant, as if he was afraid to hurt you. He paused when you gave up scrubbing the sweat and dirt from behind your knees, but only for a moment. You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes. His nails scratched at the base of your skull, coaxing a sigh from your lips. As he massaged the soap through the tangled mess he took his time with the tension in your temples, then the pressure points behind your ears, even working out the knots in your neck. You did your best not to moan, but a couple of gasps and pleased grunts may have slipped out. He rested a hand between your shoulders and guided you back, dipping your hair into the water to rid it of the froth he’d created.

You peeked up at him through your lashes. If he noticed he didn’t show it. His face was relaxed, almost serene, as he raked his fingers through your hair, gently tugging on the bigger tangles. You hadn’t ever taken the time to look at his eyes before, he seemed uncomfortable over them when you’d met so you left him alone about it. Looking at them now, you regretted it. They were a beautiful mix of honey, sunflowers, and glittering gold. And they were so kind. The idea that people spat at him when they recognized his eyes made your heart ache.

With a slight nudge from him, you sat back up, all the tension in your body having melted in the hot water or under his touch. You pulled your knees to your chest, resting your arms across them and your chin on your arms. The events of the day had you feeling like a child who’d gone too long without a nap being soothed back to sleep. If you were being honest with yourself you missed the feeling of safety that came with someone taking care of you.

Geralt brushed your favorite oils through your hair, doing his best not to pull through knots too roughly, but it was in the same bun for about four days.

You let your tired mind wander as you watched snow fall out the small port window above the tub. The comb had failed to detect any knots in your hair for some time but it seemed Geralt was just as lost in thought as you.

Eventually the water grew cold and you had to accept this couldn’t go on forever.

“I think I might need to get out soon.” you mumbled, inspecting your pruney fingers. Everything in you was telling you to stay. Stay in this safe place with your gentle guardian. But you knew if you didn’t get out soon you’d never warm up, fire or not. Not to mention you knew you were taking Geralt’s actions more to heart than they were meant. He simply felt guilty for pushing you too far.

That didn’t mean you wanted him gone though. You were more than happy to live the lie for a little while longer.

"I'll go check the horses." He offered, placing a towel and the robe within your reach.

"Thank you, Geralt. For not… I don't know? Laughing at me?" You refused to look at him, being vulnerable enough as you already were.

"Y/N…" he said your name like it meant something but you couldn't figure out what, "You never have to thank me. I owe you so much more than a hot bath and kind words."

You turned your head to argue but when you saw his expression the words died on your tongue. All you could offer in response was a small smile.

It seemed to be enough for him and he nodded before disappearing through the door, leaving you to ponder what he'd meant.

_________

Part 2 here!

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nationalhoranleague · 3 years

Text

Eighteen | All Summer Long

TW: Alcohol, Mentions of Binge Drinking

Chapter Song: Wonder - Shawn Mendes

≫ Everly - Monday, June 13, 2016 ≪

We were miserable. We were walking a very fine line between still drunk and hungover. Luckily, it wasn't just us, everyone gathered in the lobby waiting for the buses to take us to the airport looked to be in the same shape as Sid and I. Well, almost everyone.

"So," Beau began loudly, seemingly popping up out of nowhere. "What time should we be around tonight?" He asked, looking between Sidney and me.

I looked up to Sidney who wore dark sunglasses over his eyes, even as we stood in the hotel lobby. "I don't know, we won't even be back in Pittsburgh until," He looked down to the watch on his wrist. "after two o'clock."

Beau looked to me, clearly not happy with Sidney's inability to answer his question. "What tim-"

"Are you always this loud?" I asked, interrupting him. Beau's girlfriend, Georgeann, who looked to be as miserable as the rest of us, and Sidney both stifled their laughter. "How are you not miserably hungover like everyone else, anyway?"

Beau's head lulled to the side, looking at me as if I was an idiot for asking him such a question. "Olli, Justin, and I did shots when we got up this morning,"

Genius. I looked up to Sidney. "Why did we not think of that?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "We didn't have anything left to drink,"

"Lack of planning," Beau noted, pointing finger guns at us. "So, what time?"

I groaned. Since the beginning of the playoffs, I have been planning a massive pool party for the team and their partners to celebrate the cup win. Luckily, I did all of the planning, shopping, cleaning, and decorating before I left for San Jose, but right now, the last thing I want to do is throw a party. I haven't been this hungover since Sochi. "Um, let's just say 5:30. That'll give everyone to get home, relax for a while, and then come 'round for supper."

"You say relax, I say pregame,"

I tilted my head. "Beau, are you going to drink all day?"

"Evergreen," He began, calling me by one of his many nicknames for me. "I'm going to drink all summer."

Sidney and I flew separately, as did the rest of the team and their families. Of the two planes the Penguins chartered for the family of the team, I was fortunate enough to be on one with an abundance of alcohol. Maureen, Kuni's wife, popped open three bottles of champagne which we passed around the plane to those old enough to drink, not even worrying about individual glasses. When we touched down in Pittsburgh, nearly everyone on the jet was tipsy enough to have to hold onto both handrails of the jet's airstairs as we deplaned. However, it seemed as the passengers on the other jet enjoyed their time in the air as much as we did. Hell, even the coaches seemed to teeter off of the team's plane.

The team's jet was the last to arrive and deplane, leaving Sidney's family and me to wait for him on the tarmac. The concrete beneath us was quickly heating up and began to mix with the heat from the alcohol coursing through my body, causing me to begin to sweat. I smiled, the long, hot days of summer are only a few days away and today's temperature is a clear reminder of that. I was ready to celebrate this win all summer long.

"Ow! Ow!" I exclaimed as Sidney drew closer. Trina, Troy, and Taylor all began to clap and cheer loudly, causing Sidney to blush and the others around us to start laughing. "That's my MVP!"

He shook his head as he came to a stop in front of us. He hugged his parents and then his sister. "You're a mess," He spoke, teasingly, before leaning down to place a kiss on my lips.

I nodded, agreeing with him. I grabbed for the dress bag he had in his fingers, taking it from him and slinging it over my shoulder. "Ready?"

He nodded. "We'll see you tomorrow for dinner?" Sidney asked, looking to his parents for an answer.

"We'll be there!" Trina sang, pulling him in for one last hug. "Have fun tonight, you two,"

I hugged the three of them before we went our separate ways, them to their rental car to stay at my condo for the evening, and Sid and I to his car, to head back to his home in Sewickley.

The car ride felt exceptionally long, traffic from the airport was terrible, and we were itching to get home and get out of our airplane clothes and into our swimsuits to enjoy the evening by the pool with the team. Once we were finally home, we all but raced up the stairs to the same shower.

"Care to join?" Sidney asked, dropping his pants onto the floor, his belt clattering against the cool tile.

I laughed at him but began to strip down to nothing as well. I stepped in behind him, not hesitating to wrap my arms around his waist. He relaxed into me, his shoulders dropping the tension he had been carrying around since December.

"I've missed you," I mumbled into his damp skin.

He sighed contently. "I've missed you, Everly Grace,"

"It feels like I haven't seen you since May,"

Sidney spun around, now taking me into his arms. "I'm sorry, Ev. I just get tunnel vision during playoffs, you know? I just get so wrapped up in the need to win that I forget about what matters the most," He paused to grab my face in his wet hands, directing my eyes up to his. "You."

I swatted his hands away from my face so that I could wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him into me. "Hey," I began softly. "Don't apologize for the schedule that you had no control over. You're here now and you're a two time Stanley Cup champion. That's what's matters. All of that work paid off, you have something to show for it."

He smiled before leaning down to kiss me. "Wouldn't have been possible without you,"

I laughed, pulling away from him and stepping into the warm water, grabbing my loofah from it's resting place. "Me?"

"Yeah, you,"

I hesitated, watching Sidney as he grabbed the pink loofah from my hand and began to run it down my arms and then across my chest. "What did I do?" I questioned, closing my eyes and relaxing into his touch. He seemed to be washing away the stress that I had been unknowingly carrying around, likely as long as he had.

"You were in my corner," He spoke softly.

"Hmm," I hummed. "It's the least I can do,"

"You took care of the house, entertained my family while I was out of town or busy, all while working on stuff for the foundation, and still carrying on with your own life. You've taken a lot off of my plate and put it on your own, no questions asked." I tilted my head back, soaking my hair.

"As I said, it's the leas-"

"Thank you," I opened my eyes to reach for my bottle of shampoo.

"I'll always be in your corner, Sid," I assured him after a few moments of silence.

"That's why I'm marrying you,"

"Still trying to figure out my motive," I teased, before gazing down. "Nevermind, I figured it out."

He threw his head back, laughing loudly as he jokingly attempted to cover himself. "Quit objectifying me!" He teased, pushing the bottle of conditioner into my hand. "And finish washing your hair before the water runs cold,"

I watched as he scrambled out of the shower, laughing when he nearly fell. "Hate to see you go, but love to watch you leave, Sid!"

"Don't start anything. I'm still tired from last night," He replied, speaking loudly to be heard over the running water and the rustles of him dropping his towel and pulling on his underwear.

I washed the conditioner out of my hair and turned the water off before stepping out of the shower and taking the white towel from Sidney's outstretched hand. "You were on your game last night,"

"I know," He boasted. I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Settle down," I teased, walking out of the bathroom to get dressed, leaving him to shave away his playoff beard that I had come to love. "You know, I don't hate the beard," I confessed as I shimmied into my bathing suit, threw a pair of shorts and a t-shirt on, and walked back into the bathroom to brush my teeth.

"You could have told me that before I shaved half my face,"

I giggled. "Sorry, bub,"

I finished brushing my teeth and collected both of our discarded towels from the bathroom floor, depositing them into the laundry basket hidden in Sidney's closet. I popped my head back into the bathroom to see Sidney still messing with his hair, having yet to put his swimming trunks on.

"C'mon, pretty boy," I began, using the nickname that my sister and Mel had given him, one that both Sidney and I had only recently come to learn about, causing Sidney to roll his eyes. "Olli will be here any minute with the ice and we still have to get all of this food on the grill,"

Sidney groaned loudly as he ran his hands through his hair, spiking it up in about 14 different directions. "This is as good as it's gonna get, I'm afraid." He laughed, flicking the bathroom light off and walking toward the dresser to retrieve his swimming trunks.

"You look handsome as ever," I complimented mindlessly before heading toward the bedroom door to head downstairs to begin preparing dinner.

"Ev?" Sid called out to me, stopping me in the doorframe. I turned to look at him. He had the top drawer of the dresser open, one hand hidden in the pile of socks, and a look I hadn't seen before written across his flushed face.

"They're not in that drawer, they're in the bottom draw-"

"I know where my trunks are," He interjected, turning now to face me directly. However, as he pulled his hand from the sock drawer, a blue object that not previously been in his hand caught my eye.

"What's that?" I asked, pointing to the blue box in his hand.

Without answering my question, he stepped toward me, clad only in his boxer-briefs, and grabbed my left hand in his right. "Everly Grace,"

I gasped, throwing my right hand over my mouth, now catching onto what he was doing. Tears sprung to my eyes almost immediately. And as I looked into his eyes, I noticed that his eyes looked a bit glassy too.

"When I met you, I knew I had met my match. You've challenged me, and encouraged me, and lit a fire within me, one that I hadn't known existed. You are the strongest, smartest, funniest, most beautiful, most caring, most loving woman I have ever met, and even that is the tip of the iceberg." I giggled lightly, squeezing his hand tightly in my own. "I know, in my heart, even after this short time together, that you are the person I am supposed to spend the rest of my life with. I've known since day one. So," Without ever letting go of my hand, Sidney bent down onto one knee and with his other hand, he held the box out to me, flicking it open with his fingers with ease, as if he had been practicing the action for weeks. "Everly Grace Cassius, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

Breathlessly, I answered. "Yes, of course! A thousand times, yes," Without once looking at the ring in his hand, I tackled Sidney in a hug, causing both of us to fall onto the carpeted floor.

"Ow!"

"I love you," I beamed, taking his face into my hands before kissing him.

Sidney laughed as we kissed, causing our teeth to clank against one another's. "I love you more, Evy,"

I shook my head, hitting him in the face with the hair that had fallen loose from my bun when I tackled him. "Impossible,"

"Where do you want these?" Olli asked, shuffling across the threshold with three bags of ice in his arms.

I stepped out of his way, leading the way to the kitchen. "Just set them down on the counter," I replied, taking one bag of ice from him and setting it down on the marble. "Thank you for getting the ice, Ols, it totally slipped my mind,"

Olli shook his head as he set the other bags down. "Don't worry about it,"

"Olli!" Sidney cheered, standing up from where he was squatting on the floor, filling up the empty coolers with beer. They embraced in a quick hug, patting each other on the back. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," He replied, cooly, as he reached up to his face to take off his sunglasses and set them on top of his head. "Are you guys okay?"

I eyed him oddly. "Of course, what are you on about?"

"You look like you've been crying. The both of you," He spoke, matter-of-factly, catching me off guard. While Olli was very observant, he was not confrontational by any stretch of the imagination, he was the type of person to notice something was off, but to wait to pull you aside by yourself to ask you about it.

"Oh," I replied, blushing. "It's nothing, no worries!"

Olli scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back against the counter. "C'mon, did someone die?"

I looked at Sid, who only smiled knowingly back at me. "I have to tell him, he thinks someone died!"

"We haven't told our families yet," Sidney reminded, keeping his voice low, but still wearing a smile on his face.

I grinned. "Olli is family," I replied, quickly, setting a hand onto Olli's arm. "He won't tell anyone, right?" I asked, looking up to Olli who glanced between Sidney and me, completely lost. His eyebrows a clear indicator of his confusion.

"Right?" He squeaked out, barely loud enough for me to hear him.

Sidney laughed and then threw his hands into the air as if to say 'What the hell, why not?'. "Go on, then,"

Without saying anything else, I reached down into the front pocket of my jean shorts and pulled out the diamond ring that Sidney had presented to me only ten minutes prior, and slid it onto my left ring finger. "We're getting married!" I squealed, shoving my hand into Olli's face, all the while dancing.

Olli gasped before pulling Sidney and me into a hug. "Congratulations!"

"But," I remarked, stepping out of the hug. "You can't tell anyone! Our families don't know yet,"

Olli shook his head profusely, his expensive sunglasses nearly going flying as he did. "Your secret is safe with me,"

"Good," I turned on my heel, grabbing two plates stacked with raw hamburgers ready to be grilled, and then spun back around to hand them to Olli. "Now you two get to cookin'," Sidney grabbed the pan full of hotdogs from the island and made his way out to the back patio where he had already lit the grill with Olli hot on his heels.

Before I could do anything else, I glanced down at the Tiffany ring on my left hand. It wasn't absurdly large. Sidney wasn't a flashy man nor was I a flashy woman. But, it was beautiful, nonetheless, too beautiful to have to hide for the evening, but too important to tell the team about before we told our families. It was also too beautiful to separate myself from completely, hence the reason I was hiding it in my pocket as opposed to the iconic blue box that set empty on top of Sidney's dresser. It was too new, too electrifying to simply place back into the box etched with my soon-to-be-initials across the top.

Carefully, I slipped the ring from my finger and returned it to its temporary hiding place in my short's tiny pocket. The weight of the ring against my thigh brought me an odd sense of comfort. Symbolically, of course, the ring tied Sidney and me together forever, but the weight of the ring felt as though it physically tethered us together too. I couldn't wait to bear the weight of the ring on my finger for longer than ten minutes. I couldn't wait to wear it forever. To spend forever connected to the man who I knew was my husband the day I met him.

I turned to the ice on the counter in front of me, noticing that the bags had begun to sweat and drip onto the hardwood floor of the kitchen. I sighed before picking a bag up to dump into the cooler full of warm beer. I proceeded to empty the other bags into the multiple coolers lining Sidney's kitchen, hoping that we had bought enough alcohol to hold the team and their others over for the night.

I began to open bags of chips and dump them into bowls when I heard the front door open and subsequently fall shut.

"Hello? Sid?" A heavy Russian accent rolled through the house.

I popped my head out of the kitchen to see Geno, Anna, Flower, and Vero standing in the entry-way, lingering awkwardly.

"Hi!" I stepped out of the kitchen fully now, making myself know. "Come in, come in,"

Anna smiled, coming toward me quickly. She wrapped me into a hug, holding onto me tightly with one arm, keeping the platter in her opposite hand between the two of us.

"Didn't want you hosting without sweets," She spoke softly, placing the plate full of brownies into my hands now.

"You didn't have to do that, thank you," She smiled softly and then stepped aside, allowing Vero to hug me quickly.

"Where's the cup?" Flower asked, pulling me into his side for a hug as soon as his wife let go of me.

"Uh," I began, turning back toward the kitchen to set Anna's brownies down and finish what I was doing before they all walked in the door. "I think Coach Sullivan has it, he's the last person I saw with it at the jet port." I dumped another bag of chips into a bowl and set it on the island among the other bowls and various plates of burger and hot dog toppings. "Okay," I dusted my hands off before setting them on my hips. "Drinks are in these coolers, there's bottled water, soda, beer, wine coolers," I listed off on my fingers. "Um, there's liquor outside at the bar by the pool, serve yourself,"

Without saying a word, Geno and Flower shared a quick look before darting toward the back door and disappearing outside, on the hunt for a stiff drink.

"What do you need help with, Everly? You look overwhelmed," Vero asked, running a comforting hand up and down my arm.

"This is just a much bigger affair than I had anticipated," I admitted sheepishly, turning away from the women in front of me to the fridge to pull the fruit out to cut it up and toss it all together to make a fruit salad.

Anna took the plastic containers from my hands and started over to a small section of empty counter space. I handed her a cutting board and knife and thanked her profusely as she began slicing.

"You're going to be just fine, Ev! As long as you have food and drinks, everyone will be happy," Vero glanced around the kitchen. "And by the looks of it, you have more than enough to get us through the night,"

"I just want to make a good impression on everyone, you know?"

"You already have,"

I smiled softly at her. She had been a great friend to me throughout the season, all the girls had, but Vero went the extra mile. She was always the first to reach out to me to invite me to a girl's night or to come over to watch The Bachelor or to call just to catch up. She was my rock this season, becoming my uncertified therapist to help me cope with the loneliness of Sid being away and the helplessness I felt from not being able to skate.

"Thank you, Vero," I offered sincerely.

"Anything for you, Ev. Now, get yourself a drink, you've earne-" The doorbell rang loudly startling the three of us. "Get a drink and then get the door, I've got the rest from here,"

Ignoring the coolers, I scrambled to the front door before whoever was on the other side could ring the bell again. I swung the door open, to see Mario, Coach Sullivan, their respective wives, and the keeper of the cup, Philip, whom I had yet to officially meet, but knew by name. His presence meant one thing: the Stanley Cup was in the Crosby house tonight.

"Everly! Good to see you again!" Mario chimed, leading the group into the house. He paused to kick his shoes off at the front door and then pulled me into a hug. Mario and Nathalie lived only a few streets over and were frequent fliers around here. Mario and Sidney often sat on the couch for hours on end, watching hockey games, and discussing anything and everything while Nathalie brought over homemade desserts, winning her way into my heart almost immediately.

"Ev," Nathalie spoke, hugging me with one arm over my shoulders. I hugged her back tightly. "I brought a cake, I hope you don't mind,"

I laughed. "Of course not! I will never complain about you bringing food over," She smiled warmly and then headed in the direction of the kitchen with Mario on his heels.

Coach Sullivan stepped farther into the house, discarding his shoes at the door just as Mario and Nathalie and his wife did before him. It was odd, to see him dressed down, I mean. On the few occasions that I had been around Coach Sullivan, he was always dressed to the nines, as if he was perpetually ready for a business meeting to occur at any given time.

"Everly, lovely to see you," Coach Sullivan pulled me into a side-hug and then released me quickly, but not without a squeeze to the shoulder. "This is my wife, Kate, I don't know that you two have met,"

I nearly went to offer a hand out to her, but instead just pulled her into a quick hug, surprising her. "Everly Cassius," I introduced, stepping back from her now. "I'm, uh, Sidney's fi-," I stopped myself quickly. "Girlfriend,"

"It's so nice to finally meet you, Everly."

"You as well, Kate," I gushed before giving the married couple the details on when dinner would be ready, where to find drinks, the bathroom, and Sidney, and then watched as they headed in completely different directions.

I turned to the blonde man still standing in the foyer, a small smile on his face. "Philip, right?" He nodded, letting go of the handle of the large black case behind him and offering a hand out to me. I introduced myself to him and him to me, insisting that I call him Phil. "Well, Phil, I'm glad that you're here," I told him, beginning to lead him toward the back door, watching as he towed the beat-up black trunk behind him and navigated it with ease through the house and out onto the patio.

"I'm just here to drop this beauty off," I looked at him in surprise as he put on his white gloves and popped open the black case.

"You don't have to stay with the cup?" I asked, watching as he lifted the cup with ease and set it on one of the tables I set up outside.

He chuckled. "Nope, I can just drop it off and leave it, as long as I know where it is, of course."

I hummed, crossing my arms over my chest. "I just always assumed you have to stay with it," He shook his head as he turned away from the cup and toward me. "Well, do you want to? Stay, I mean,"

He hesitated for a minute, pulling his white gloves off by the fingers. "I, uh, wel-"

"You don't have to say yes, I ju-"

"I'd love to stay, if that's okay with you and Sidney, of course,"

I grinned, before turning to Sidney who still stood over the grill with Olli at his side. "Sid," I called out to him, catching his attention. "You don't mind if Phil stays, right?"

Sidney smiled and shook his head. "Of course not! Get him a drink, Ev,"

I laughed before looking back to Phil. "What's your poison?" I asked, causing a grin to break out across his face.

I got Phil a beer at his request and then gave him the same spiel that I gave to everyone who came in before him; telling him where to locate drinks and the bathroom, to make himself at home, and to find Sid or me if he needed anything at all. He graciously thanked me and then wandered around to the opposite side of the pool and sat in one of the chairs facing the house. I watched on as he relaxed into the chair and twisted the top off of his beer bottle and took a long pull from the bottle.

"Careful, that big heart of yours is on your sleeve," Sidney whispered in my ear, startling me with his sudden presence.

I smiled softly at him, only to see that he was looking at Phil across the pool. "Didn't feel right for him to come to drop the cup by and then have to leave, likely to go back to an empty hotel room with shitty room service, when he knew we were having this big party. We have plenty of food, plenty to drink, what's one more?" I explained, looking back to Phil who now sat with Mario next to him, the two of them chatting away.

Sidney smiled before dipping his head down to press a kiss to my temple. "Good woman,"

"Hmm?"

"Just another reason I'm marrying you,"

As the night hours winded into the late night, everyone began to grow rowdier. Sid's backyard was beginning to look like a frat party at The University of Alabama on homecoming weekend. Even Coach Sullivan, or Sully, as he insisted I call him in his drunken stupor, was beginning to slur his words. Though people were drinking almost as soon as they hit the door, the drinks really began to flow after dinner was finished and plates were cleared. In the blink of an eye, the Stanley Cup was filled to the brim with Dom Pérignon and was being lifted to the lips of anyone who merely looked in the direction of the coveted trophy.

"Who hasn't had a sip?" Sidney called out, catching mostly everyone's attention, including mine. I glanced over to him, shamelessly checking him out as he stood in the pool next to Geno with the cup sitting on the ground between the two of them. However, I was still very much engaged in the conversation I was having with a few of the girls, even though I took my eyes off of them for a few seconds. But before I could even turn my head back around to return my gaze to them, Maureen Kunitz, who I had come to learn was a blast in a glass, was pulling me up from my seat, and pushing me toward Sid.

"Everly hasn't! In fact, I haven't seen her have a drink since I got here. She needs to loosen up,"

My eyes grew wide. "Maureen!" I exclaimed laughing, now noticing that everyone's attention was on me as she all but pushed me across the pool deck.

"Everly Grace!" Sidney taunted loudly, causing me to blush. "I can't believe you managed to fly under my radar,"

"Sidney," I whined playfully, dragging out the last syllable of his name.

"Oh no, don't Sidney me, baby. It's tradition, c'mon," He patted the concrete of the pool deck in front of him.

I shook my head, laughing, but walked toward him and squatted down in front of him, facing the cup, just as everyone before me had. Slowly, he and Geno lifted the cup and I wrapped my hands around the bowl to help them steady it and took a long sip of the warm champagne. I pulled away and wiped at my mouth with the back of my hand, catching the alcohol before it had the opportunity to run down my chin. Sidney and Geno set the cup back down on the concrete carefully, all the while laughing.

"How do you feel?" Sidney asked, looking up at me.

I laughed, nodding my head. "Like I just had a once-in-a-lifetime experience,"

He shook his head with a bright smile on his face. "Hopefully not," His hand reached out and wrapped around the back of my neck and pulled me to him, pressing a quick kiss to my lips. Sidney was not a man too keen on PDA, but I suppose with the amount of alcohol coursing through his system, he couldn't have cared less who saw the two of us.

"Get a room," Beau chirped from behind Sidney in the pool.

"I have the whole house, asshole," Sidney replied quickly, causing everyone within earshot to laugh.

The night went on, everyone getting more and more drunk as the sky above us shifted from blue to pitch black. The pool was full of people to where the bottom of the pool couldn't even be seen from the pool deck. At one point, Mario jumped in the pool fully clothed, causing everyone to cheer loudly, surely annoying the neighbors, who hopefully understood. Not long after Mario jumped in, the cup was thrown in and began to crowd surf among the team. It was a quarter past midnight and the party was far from over.

Maureen was right, however, I did need to loosen up. Wanting to throw a great party and making a good impression on everyone had me tense. After taking a drink from the cup, I headed over to the bar, where Kris has taken it upon himself to bartend and asked him to make me something, anything, with vodka in it. Three sweet concoctions later, I began to feel a little more than a buzz.

In the middle of my fourth drink, I felt someone wrap a warm, wet, arm around my waist, soaking my shirt in the process, and pull me into their chest.

"Sid," I spoke, never looking over my shoulder to confirm that's who had a hold of me. I knew already.

"Ev," I turned to face him now, drink still in hand. I wrapped my arms around his neck, my drink glass still in hand. "You just dumped that down my back, you know?"

I gasped, lifting my glass to see that it was indeed, empty. I laughed, hiding my face in his bare chest. "Sorry, Sid. Little tipsy,"

Sidney laughed, tossing his head back. The back of his head hit the lip of the glass in my hand, subsequently knocking it out of my hand and to the ground, where it shattered against the concrete. "Little drunk," He corrected with a laugh. He stepped forward, pushing me back into the granite bar.

"Okay, maybe a little drunk," I agreed with him. He smiled before dropping his lips down to mine and kissing me sweetly.

"I just want to do a toast and then we can start winding down for the night,"

I untangled myself from him, and he reached out for my hand, pulling me behind him toward the waterfall at the opposite end of the pool. He stepped up onto the concrete wall and pulled me up with him, tucking me into his side and throwing his arm around my shoulders. I watched as he placed two fingers from his opposite hand in his mouth and whistled loudly, capturing everyone's attention and drawing their eyes to us.

"All right everyone, I'm going to keep it short and sweet. First, thank you all for coming tonight. Second, I just want to tell you all that your hard work and sacrifices have not gone unnoticed this season. They are not lost on me. That goes for the wives and girlfriends too." Sidney squeezed my shoulder as he said this. "Everyone dedicated themselves to winning this season and now we have this beautiful cup to show for it," The crowd cheered loudly, causing me to laugh. "Okay, okay! That's all really, I just wanted to say thank you before we started losing more people," Sidney nodded his head in the direction of the lawn chairs, where Justin Schultz was passed out, one leg hanging off of the chair. "If you can't drive, please feel free to crash here. Everly's sister was kind enough to come over this morning and blow up a bunch of air mattresses. All four guest rooms have four or five, there are two in the office by the front door, and the couches are open too. There are blankets and pillows in every room, but if you need more there are some in the hall closet, right across from the bathroom."

"Thank you, guys!" I added once Sidney was finished speaking.

Before Sidney and I could step down from the concrete base of the waterfall, Olli's voice boomed over the group loudly, causing everyone to look at him as he stood on the opposite side of the pool.

"And a special thank you to the future Mr. and Mrs. Crosby for hosting us this evening!" Olli raised his drink in the air as if he was making a toast, however, no one else followed suit. Instead, everyone turned their attention back to Sidney and me, wide smiles on all of their faces.

"What is he talking about?"

"Yeah! Are you guys getting married?"

"Olli!" Sidney and I hissed in unison, though I slapped my hand against my forehead in disbelief at his admission.

"It slipped!"

A loud gasp emitted from the crowd as they realized that what Olli just let slip was in fact, true. They began cheering loudly, louder than they have all night.

"Congratulations!"

"This is so exciting!"

"When's the wedding?"

Sidney and I laughed at the variety of comments and congratulations and took a minute to soak it all in. Sidney cleared his throat before speaking over the group again. "Okay, alright! Yes, I asked Everly to marry me and she said yes!" Sidney pumped one fist in the air, earning hoops and hollers from the boys and awes from the girls. "But, we have to keep it a secret, at least until tomorrow,"

I nodded. "We haven't told our families yet! We only told Olli because he caught us with red crying eyes and he thought someone died, and I couldn't let him think someone had!" The group laughed and I watched as Patric Hornqvist elbowed Olli in the ribs.

"We'll keep it a secret if you show us the ring!" A voice shouted out from next to me.

"Yeah! Show us the ring!"

Without a second hesitation, I pulled the ring out of my front pocket and placed it on my finger, and then threw my hand out to my left. The girls squealed, all attempting to get a closer look at the diamond, however, in their excitement, they accidentally pushed Sidney and me from the waterfall, into the pool.

Sidney and I were both laughing when we resurfaced. I grabbed onto him first, wrapping my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck. I kissed him, tasting chlorine more than anything else. But, in my opinion, it was the best kiss we had shared yet.

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dazebrasrecs · 4 years

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Fic Recs: Critical Role (C2)

Includes: Genfic, Caleb/Clay, Caleb/Fjord, Caleb/Molly, and Caleb/Essek. (Can you tell I have a fave boy?)

Fics marked with ~ are incomplete.

This list will not be updated.

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Gen

blue is the friendliest colour by invoked_duplicity

Length: 2k / Rating: G / Genre: Fluff / Warnings: N/A

Summary: Nott and Jester spend some time to do "girl stuff".

~Everything She's Not(t) series by Angel Ascending (angel_in_ink)

Length: 6k / Rating: T / Genre: H/C / Warnings: eventual Nott/Yeza

Summary: “You don’t have to hide from me, you know. I will not bite you.” The man’s voice was soft, thick with an accent that Nott could not identify. He didn’t look over in Nott’s direction when he spoke, just kept looking at the window.

Nott didn’t move from her corner. She liked corners in general. No one could sneak up on you when you were in a corner. Though, now that she thought about it, being in a corner meant there was no where else to go if someone was in front of you. Like everything that might offer Nott safety, there was always a catch.

“My name is Caleb,” the man said. “Caleb Widogast.”“

I’m Nott,” Nott said, because that’s what you were supposed to do when someone gave you their name, you gave yours back. Besides, talking to the stranger would at least help distract her a little.

There was a pause. “You’re not what?”

a study in attraction by invoked_duplicity

Length: 1k / Rating: T / Genre: Drama / Warnings: N/A

Summary: Caleb asks Beau about her attraction towards women. The conversation doesn't lead where Beau expects it to lead.

The Warmth of Family by FallzVentus

Length: 1k / Rating: G / Genre: Fluff / Warnings: N/A

Summary: Caleb and Nott have been traveling for a while now. The wizard can't help but feel that Nott deserves more than the current life they live. So he decides to work towards giving her the experience of having a family.

When You Wake Up The World Will Come Around by infraredphaeton

Length: 6k / Rating: G / Genre: Fluff / Warnings: N/A

Summary: When a chance encounter at a tavern in a very, very anti-goblin town reveals Nott's identity, Caleb casts a spell to hide her as a human- a young, human girl, who looks a lot like him. It's only natural to pretend that he's her father. It's just. Nott didn't expect to kind of *like* having a Dad.

\\\

Caleb/Clay

Bared by walkalittleline

Length: 3k / Rating: E / Genre: PWP / Warnings: N/A

Summary: The Mighty Nein take a much needed trip to the bathhouse before departing Nicodranas.

Book Learning by walkalittleline

Length: 5k / Rating: E / Genre: PWP / Warnings: N/A

Summary: There are a lot of things Caduceus doesn't know. Caleb is always willing to teach, though.

Caduceus and His Book of Things He Doesn't Know

Length: 8k / Rating: T / Genre: Fluff / Warnings: N/A

Summary: Caduceus received a gift in a form of a journal from Caleb as thanks for his contribution to the Mighty Nein. He may or may not be trying to win the firbolg's attention. Either way, Caduceus has no idea what's going on.

Good Things Come to Those Who Wait by RoyalHeather

Length: 2k / Rating: E / Genre: PWP / Warnings: N/A

Summary: Leaning in, Caduceus pulls Caleb closer against him, his warm breath touching the back of Caleb’s neck, his earthy scent filling Caleb’s nostrils. His hands slide over Caleb’s stomach and hips; Caleb swallows hard, desire coiling up his spine. Broad fingers splayed out, Caduceus slowly brings his right hand over Caleb’s groin, letting it rest there before squeezing gently. Caleb inhales sharply, skin prickling all over. But Caduceus just stays there, his soft nose in Caleb’s hair, one hand gripping Caleb’s hip, the other giving only the occasional, maddening rub at Caleb’s crotch. After several minutes, Caleb is ready to burst out of his skin, and he snaps, “If you are going to fuck me, Caduceus Clay, you had better do it now.”

~Kink Therapy series by walkalittleline

Length: 28k / Rating: E / Genre: PWP / Warnings: BDSM, Sex Pollen, knotting, breath play

Summary: Caleb gets a face full of sex pollen and that's all you're getting from me.

Kiss the Cook by Alarnia

Length: 8k / Rating: E / Genre: PWP / Warnings: BDSM

Summary: Happily married, Caleb gets Caduceus a new apron and asks him to wear it... and nothing else, for a very special dinner.

A Little Bit Closer by walkalittleline

Length: 16k / Rating: E / Genre: Drama,AU / Warnings: N/A

Summary: It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy evenings out drinking with his friends. On the contrary, he welcomes the temporary respite from his own ceaseless thoughts of studying and grading papers and planning lessons and everything else he’s constantly fretting over, has no problem getting in a few drinks to let the warm haze of alcohol loosen his limbs and unwind his brain. He doesn’t, however, find much enjoyment in the too-loud music and crowded spaces of the clubs that Beau and Molly so often pick for them to frequent when they make these jaunts at the start of the weekend.

Two Minds by sabinelagrande

Length: 3k / Rating: E / Genre: PWP / Warnings: N/A

Summary: Caleb just needs someone who understands.

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Fjord/Caleb

anything but by MsMaarvel

Length: 2k / Rating: G / Genre: Drama/ Warnings: N/A

Summary: He needs to get more powerful. Being defeated by a lowly imp could not have been more embarrassing, and he really needed to stop owing Nott life debts. He only had one, after all. But there is one problem.

By the Winding River by mollymaukerie

Length: 4k / Rating: T / Genre: Romance / Warnings: N/A

Summary: After the days of travel towards Zadash, Caleb takes a quick dip in a nearby stream. Fjord comes by to lend a hand not before long.

choke this love by nighimpossible

Length: 4k / Rating: E / Genre: PWP / Warnings: BDSM, semi-public sex

Summary: “The idea that I’m going to apologize for stopping you from sticking a sword down your throat is just—absurd,” Caleb hisses back. “Tell me you’re not going to do it again.”

Fjord feels a little like a petulant child, but he does purse his lips in anger before replying, “Funny thing: you don’t get to tell me what to do, Caleb.” As Fjord says the words, he suppresses a shiver that slithers down his back. Stop that.

Convection by SnubbingApollo

Length: 12k / Rating: E / Genre: Romance/H/C / Warnings: N/A

Summary: The first time Fjord and Caleb share a room Beau hands Molly three silver pieces. Caleb turns so red for a moment Fjord is afraid he might faint. Fjord grumbles good-naturedly about the rudeness of betting on friends and tries not to think about the fact that they’d apparently been so obvious. He’d been waiting for Caleb to suggest telling them, knowing the man was private and still skittish with the group, but he supposes he isn’t the most… subtle flirter.

Craving You series by MeBeThem4815

Length: 15k / Rating: E / Genre: PWP / Warnings: BDSM, eventual Fjord/Molly/Caleb

Summary: Caleb thought he understood what Nott had been talking about, when she talked about the itch. He had thought it was similar to when he saw a new book on arcane lore in a shop. He had thought Nott was referring to the longing and the ache in his chest when he had to, inevitably, pass the book by due to lack of funds. But now, now, now he knew better. Now he knew what an itch was.

I Gave Into Sickness (Can You Find Forgiveness) by GrannyBoo

Length: 3k / Rating: G / Genre: Angst / Warnings: N/A

Summary: Caleb's fear takes a toll on his and Fjord's relationship

~The Grunge Hobo Learns to Trust by Catzgirl

Length: 41k / Rating: E / Genre: Angst / Warnings: Violence, non-con

Summary: Caleb is hiding some secrets from the gang, and they come back to haunt him at the very worst of times. Fjord is there to catch him.

I'm A Desert You're An Ocean (It's Your Motion That I Need) by GrannyBoo

Length: 1k / Rating: E / Genre: PWP / Warnings: N/A

Summary: Fjord wasn’t sure how they’d managed to get there in the first place; a few too many ales for Caleb and whiskeys for Fjord, tantalizing promises whispered between the two at the table before Caleb excused himself to bed and Fjord, waiting until he’d finished his last glass, followed after. It took all of one second after he’d knocked on Caleb’s door to be dragged in and pressed against the wall, the smaller, slighter man pressing the entire length of his body against the half-orc’s.

Making it Work by PyrophobicDragon

Length: 2k / Rating: T / Genre: Romance / Warnings: N/A

Summary: It becomes a little joke between the two of them.

Proving Worth by SnubbingApollo

Length: 3k / Rating: T / Genre: Romance / Warnings: N/A

Summary: Fjord is acting… strange.

something good, something strange by nighimpossible

Length: 3k / Rating: E / Genre: PWP / Warnings: BDSM, voyeurism

Summary: Caleb shifts his vision into Frumpkin and flies the familiar a little closer, his small bird feet wrapping around a sapling nearby. Fjord looks into the trees and gives the sparrow a quick nod before pressing a small kiss to the back of Caleb’s neck. It is an achingly soft gesture, one that Caleb does not know how to parse. And then Caleb is lost to sensation.

Thread by Crewe

Length: 2k / Rating: G / Genre: Fluff / Warnings: N/A

Summary: Fjord and Caleb develop a routine at night, Caleb reading his books and Fjord mending his and his friends' clothes.

Or: In which Caleb greatly resembles his familiar, and Fjord understands the virtues of patience, quiet, and boundaries.

till the last flower by vannral

Length: 8k / Rating: T / Genre: Angst / Warnings: N/A

Summary: The Hanahaki Disease is an illness born from one-sided love, where the patient coughs up flower petals. The infection can be removed through surgery, but the feelings disappear along with the petals.Caleb Widogast is heartbroken and very tired.

What Bravery Looks Like by Angel Ascending (angel_in_ink)

Length: 6k / Rating: G / Genre: H/C / Warnings: N/A

Summary: It had been a long night, one of those kind of long nights that had turned into a long morning, and Caleb was exhausted, the kind of exhausted that made him ache in his bones. His plan was to go back to the inn, fall onto his bed, and sleep the day around. There was an old saying, that men plan and the gods laugh.

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Molly/Cayleb

Black Skies Change into Blue by Saoto

Length: 10k / Rating: NR / Genre: Drama / Warnings: Love potions

Summary: Caleb believes that Molly drank a love philtre that Nott stole. So to prevent him from falling in love with Caleb's "little sister", Caleb makes sure Molly looks at him instead. But somehow, Molly really does not like it when Caleb tells him that - no worries! - the feelings he has for Caleb right now are nothing but fake...

Blush by LivesToLead

Length: 3k / Rating: T / Genre: Fluff / Warnings: N/A

Summary: Four times Molly made Caleb flustered and the one time Caleb made Molly flustered.

Darkvision by Calminaiel

Length: 5k / Rating: E / Genre: PWP / Warnings: N/A

Summary: While the rest of the group slumbers upstairs, Caleb and Molly are alone in the darkened tavern.

~Dreams series by Nisey

Length: 18k / Rating: E / Genre: PWP / Warnings: N/A

Summary: Mollymauk keeps having dreams about Caleb. It culminates on a day off from their travels and he must decide what to do about it.

ecstasy delivered with certainty by Lauren (notalwaysweak)

Length: 1k / Rating: E / Genre: PWP / Warnings: N/A

Summary: For the kink meme prompt (abbreviated): 'Caleb is now clean and pretty with directions to a sex shop, they're in a big town - it’s time to make a bit more money via the oldest profession ... maybe working gloryholes for tips at the dirty bookstore...'

Flickering Desire by Aristathelia

Length: 3k / Rating: E / Genre: PWP / Warnings: N/A

Summary: The heat in Mollymauk’s eyes had a questioning quality when Caleb next looked up and the wizard couldn’t help the jolt that went down his spine. Heat seemed to have gathered below his navel and tingles had gathered in his fingertips. It felt a little like when he was casting, the same electrical sizzle making him short of breath.

A Fur Lined Cloak by chaya

Length: 21k / Rating: E / Genre: Drama / Warnings: slavery, BDSM

Summary: Caleb must be a Duke for this mission, so that leaves Molly to be his... companion. You may be wondering: is this the kind of indulgent writing that includes sleeping furs, large tankards of mead, and snuggling for warmth? Dear reader, it is exactly that.

It was only a Kiss by WonderingsAndMusings

Length: 3k / Rating: E / Genre: PWP / Warnings: N/A

Summary: After defeating the gnolls and manticore and returning to Alfield safe, Caleb asks Molly why he kissed him. And tells him to do it again.

Kiss Through Copper by wilderswans

Length: 3k / Rating: E / Genre: PWP / Warnings: N/A

Summary: Fantasy Skype Sex

North by SnubbingApollo

Length: 5k / Rating: E / Genre: PWP, H/C / Warnings: BDSM, past abuse

Summary: Trent had been the star he’d used to find north and over time he’d forgotten how to find it himself.Except it turned out Trent had been leading him every direction but north, obscuring the whole world in fog until Caleb had forgotten the shape of things entirely. Until he could only find his way by stumbling blindly in whatever direction Trent had pointed.And now Trent is gone. The fog has been pulled away but Caleb still can’t see. He doesn’t remember how.

only forward by invoked_duplicity

Length: 1k / Rating: G / Genre: H/C / Warnings: panic attacks

Summary: Molly panics. Caleb tries to comfort him.

Snowed In by MeBeThem4815

Length: 10k / Rating: E / Genre: PWP / Warnings: BDSM, blood play

Summary: When a snow storm separates Caleb and Molly from the rest of the Nein, antics ensue.This is just pure, self indulgent porn to get me back on the writing train after an illness. You're welcome.

Stammtisch by chaya

Length: 28k / Rating: E / Genre: Fluff / Warnings: N/A

Summary: Someone asked for "The Nein's first experience in Mordenkainen's mansion after Caleb learns to cast it". This is literal world-building so of COURSE it got really long and involved.

A Useful Little Spell by threerings

Length: 5k / Rating: E / Genre: Smut / Warnings: N/A

Summary: Caleb uncovers a promising new spell but unfortunately it requires two people. Two people having sex.

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Caleb/Essek

Calculated Risks by Cardinal_Daughter

Length: 3k / Rating: M / Genre: Romance / Warnings: N/A

Summary: Caleb knows a calculated risk when he sees one.

hearts are too heavy a burden to bear alone by personalized_radio

Length: 10k / Rating: M / Genre: AU, Romance / Warnings: N/A

Summary: Caleb Widowgast is the only student to show up to Essek's study hours. Caleb...is not enrolled in the class or the program, but Essek has to be here anyway and Caleb has the book and is determined to learn. Also he brings Essek coffee every single time and it's never the same but always delicious so Essek doesn't mind explaining the basics or going over concepts between lesson planning in exchange. Caleb has very pretty eyes.

Honesty by aunt_zelda

Length: 4k / Rating: M / Genre: PWP / Warnings: BDSM

Summary: Essek waits. Perhaps he is supposed to guess the likeliest offer and spare Caleb the embarrassment of asking? He keeps his mouth shut, waiting, watching Caleb wrestle internally with his shame and desires. It’s an engaging sight.

“I want you to use me.” Caleb says at last.

Ah. Ambiguous language, to a less discerning individual. Essek understands, but wishes to draw it out from Caleb’s own lips. “Use you?” he lingers on the syllables. “Yes, to ferret out spies from the Empire. We’ve discussed this.”

Caleb shakes his head in a twitching movement. “No. Not like that.” His hands fail briefly in agitation. He’s coming apart at the seams, this man. Essek very much wants to know what’s hidden underneath.

(Mis)Trust in Me by MoonwalkingCrab

Length: 31k / Rating: E / Genre: Romance / Warnings: N/A

Summary: Caleb is torn. He has been trained to get what he wants from people, and so often he has. But something feels different this time. Now he is hesitant to trust his own impulses. Is it really just his training kicking in, or does he simply want to spend time with Essek for no ulterior reason?

The Only Way Is Essik's by supersonica

Length: 8k / Rating: E / Genre: PWP / Warnings: N/A

Summary: Leaning a little closer so his breath could brush Caleb’s oddly round ear, Essik said, softly, “If you’d like, you could visit my library this evening, Herr Widogast.”

“Is that a euphemism?” Caleb asked, snorting. “It’s not a very appealing one.”

Essik rolled his eyes. “No, I—what do you take me for? I do actually have a private library, feel free to come by after dinner. And also,” he made a very quick decision about how good the hearing range of Caleb’s companions probably was. “I don’t need a euphemism to say I’d quite like you to suck my cock.”

What's sexier than wizards NOTHING by Dweebspace

Length: 7k / Rating: E / Genre: Romance / Warnings: N/A

Summary: “Is this still you wanting to do magic?” Essek asks. There is a vulnerability to his voice that Caleb hasn’t heard before from the shadowhand, though he recognizes it. Fear of rejection. Fear of being used. Fear of being a means to an end.

“No,” he says, “This is you. You are very clever and very attractive.” He clears his throat. “This is me wanting you.”

Zero to Sixty by indefensibleselfindulgence

Length: 2k / Rating: E / Genre: AU / Warnings: N/A

Summary: Caleb is new in town, but at least Hot Uber Driver is nice.

#critical role #fic recs #clayleb #caleb x essek #widowmauk #caleb widogast #essek thelyss #fjord critical role #caduceus clay

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sweeethinny · 4 years

Text

Reputation - Look What You Made Me Do (Chapter 5)

this time it didn't take me so long :) I had difficulties with the ending but I think I managed to finish it in a decent way (thank to @harrys-wheezys who help me, saying about how the war had changed them, and they realizing it :))

keep commenting, i love reading your opinions

AO3

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I don't like your little games Don't like your tilted stage

''Look what they wrote about us!" Harry looked at her, a little still tired from the morning sex round, his brain soft and with little ability to understand anything but Ginny's naked breasts, right next to him ''Harry Potter , 32, Order of Merlin blah blah blah, was seen chatting animatedly alongside another ex- Holyhead Harpies player, other than his wife, Ginny Potter (or can we call her Weasley again?)'' Ginny turned her head to him, a little too furious for nine on a cold Sunday morning "Terry is a lesbian! And she knows it."

''Why do you still buy this?'' Harry yawned, cuddling up to her chest, smiling at the softness of her breasts, better than the pillows, as he felt her nails on his scalp, almost driving him back to sleep.

''Why do I need to know what they are saying about us?'' He knew it wasn't really a question, so he kept quiet ''Forbidden romance is a hell. They've been separating us for years now, do you remember that about our marriage?''

Rita no longer wrote alone, now she shared the gossip podium with Beau Miller, a man no one really knew where he came from, and seemed to have won people's hearts more for his beauty than for the work itself.

'' ..Of course, what he writes is pure shit ' Harry grunted angrily, throwing the newspaper into the fire and watching it burn, irritated that he said that about Ginny ''They said she has kept me under the love potion .. Ginevra Weasley! The woman who knows very well what it is to have no control over yourself while someone else manipulates you like a puppet, would make me drink love potions! ' Harry clapped his hand on the table, suddenly feeling like he was on edge. .

He thanked for being alone.

''Is the future Potter keeping our chosen one under a potion? ' Harry feigned a very forced accent, his hand on his chest while blinking pompously into nothingness ''To hell with 'Our Chosen One' ''

It was just as irritating how much they got into their lives, saying filthy things about the two, making silly assumptions about betrayals, love potions, and even a teenage pregnancy - the picture of Ginny with Teddy in her arms gave them that.

Harry was so tired, especially now in the week of their wedding, where he was so nervous and upset that he thought he was about to fall to the floor with a heart attack. And it made it worse that Ginny was in France with Fleur, for something about her dress.

They always made him look like a fool, and Harry definitely hated them.

And it was with this resignation that he left his office, marching furiously to the building where the Prophet was.

The role you made me play Of the fool, no, I don't like you

''How to forget? I think Beau is still scared of me'' He laughed nasally, hugging the woman's waist and burying his head more in her breasts ''But it wasn't just me who did it, if I remember correctly, in your seventh year you also lost the head''

''She caught me on a bad day'' Ginny defended herself

It was supposed to be a calm Quidditch Final, at least it was what she expected.

She was prepared to face Ravenclaw with all her blood, determined to win and make use of all those training sessions under the rain and mornings that had barely emerged. She would win.

Harry being there, helped a lot too.

''If we win .. '' She said when the two met in the locker room still empty, for just one conversation.

"When you win," he said, kissing the tip of her nose before listening to her again, with all his attention and affection.

But then there was the press, as usual, and Rita Skeeter was there too, asking about silly stuff.

Ginny was on the edge, missing her stupid boyfriend who got bogged down with jobs until he missed the last trip to Hogsmeade, afraid to lose, eager to have scouts in the audience who would assess her potential to the last drop, judging her good or not for her team, nervous about the exam of her NIEM's next week .. It was so much, that having Rita distorting her words was not a real desire.

That smile ... Ginny was so eager to take it away.

I don't like your perfect crime How you laugh when you lie

''But Mrs Weasley, have you been playing just to impress a certain person? ' That had been the question after Ginny had scored 8 goals in less than an hour, and helped Gryffindor to win the Cup and being an incredible captain, being quite modest.

Of course, because everything about her was always intertwined, in some way, with Harry.

With little patience left, she decided to smile sarcastically as took the feather in her hand and kneaded it until there were no more pieces left, approaching the woman in a very unfriendly way, which made her startle and take two steps back, cowardly

''Yes, and I've been well rewarded for that. As you can see .. '' She waved her notebook with her wand, making it burn and end up nothing less than dust on the dirty floor of the locker room ''I'm great with my hands''

You said the gun was mine Isn't cool, no, I don't like you (oh!)

''You're really good with your hands'' Harry kissed the one who was resting beside him on the bed, also kissing her finger with their wedding ring, feeling the cold gold against his lips

''Thank you, I got better with time... You are lucky that I don't mind all these intrusions, because I already received some invitations to run away from you'' The man laughed, lifting his chin to look at her, green eyes playing fun

''I can't even believe what made you stay'' Ginny shrugged, smiling and running her nails over his shoulders

''Your fortune, of course''

''Ginny Potter getting married out of interest?

That's right wizard world, the Quidditch Team's great player, Holyhead Harpies, received a marriage proposal from a Puddlemere United Team player, which we were unable to identify. And he claims that Ginny Potter told him that she will only marry Harry Potter because of his fortune.

More information on page 15.''

''Does the man say that but they don't know who he is?'' She snorted ''She loves to make me look like a disguised bitch'' Harry barely looked up from Ron's letter, drinking his coffee and wondering if he should get a piece of cake or cookies.

''She does it because she knows you read and it hits you ' The bride turned like a rabid dog towards him

''Hit me? Please, Harry! I am furious that they do not destroy the image of a man who proposed to a committed person, but make up this shit about me .. I'm sure that tonight she will be there'' The Ministry party, the one that the two tried to make up any excuse for not to go, but that in the end, he had been obliged to attend. ''Do you know something? I will use the diamonds you gave me. And I'm going to buy a new dress.'' Ginny got up from the table

''I thought diamonds would be for special occasions'' He joked, still not looking at her

"And isn't that special?" He risked looking at her; her cheeks flushed like fire, hair up in a quick bun and his shirt as pajamas ''Wear your expensive suit too. We will be the most glamorous couple of that idiot party'' And then she left, stomping firmly and still babbling curses along the way.

[...]

''How I look?'' Ginny came out of the closet, and Harry started to wonder if they really needed to go to that stupid party, or if he could invent a disease that made him stuck at home.

She was stunning, the dress was golden and long, falling very close to her body and with straps so thin that he didn’t know how they didn’t split in half, a straight neckline that made her breasts look so stunning it was like he was 17 years and be embarrassed to see them. Her hair was tied in a neat bun, the diamond earrings matched the ring he had given her last month, delicate but shiny like party globes. Her lips were blood red, her eyes painted black and gold that made Harry forget the time she had spent in the bathroom.

''Wow'' He blinked a few times, watching her approach and fix his tie, blinking innocently and laughing

''Thank you my love, you are also beautiful ..'' Her hands smoothed the suit well aligned, seeming to approve that he had listened to her and put on the expensive piece ''I loved the gold buttons, they really make a great pair with my dress'' Ginny put her arm through his ''Can we go, Mr Potter? I need to parade with my rich fiance around.''

''I never felt so happy that I was being extorted'' They laughed, finishing getting what they needed before apparating to the Ballroom who were told it would be the event, identifying themselves at the entrance and smiling at the first camera that appeared , ignoring all the looks that some gave him "I come back from the dead, but what they care about is whether my future wife is about to kill me to keep my fortune or not .. "

But I got smarter, I got harder in the nick of time Honey, I rose up from the dead, I do it all the time

''Because it sells more newspapers when they talk about a selfish bitch'' Ginny faked a smile ''Look, everyone commenting about us.' The circle of journalists seemed about to burst with excitement when they saw them coming in, ignoring anyone else more important that it passed them, seeming to argue about who should go to the couple first

"They must be arguing about what you had to do to get these earrings"

''I hope they're being creative .. Just a blowjob wouldn't pay'' Harry laughed, wrapping his arm around her waist and bowing a little - she was on heels, they weren't so different in height now - to whisper;

''But I wouldn't mind buying you jewelry for every time you have your mouth full ' The woman blushed, biting her lip and looking at it boldly

''I'll have an arsenal of them then'' Before he could make any further comments, their names were called, and Rita Skeeter was right there in front, smiling from ear to ear

''Mr and Mrs Potter.'' Her false tone got to make Harry sick ''As always; admirable'' Rita blinked a few times at the diamond in Ginny's ears, almost approaching to assess the jewel ''It would be an honor to have an interview with you, there are several fans who are dying to know more details of the wedding of two such important...wizards'' She looked up and down at Ginny, as if assessing whether she was worth it that much.

Because, she was always Harry Potter's girlfriend, and nothing more. Forget her career as a player, and all her other merits.

''I can only say it will be luxurious'' Ginny commented, as much as it was a lie ''Nothing more'' She smiled falsely ''And even, I remember putting your name on the list'' Rita seemed to be excited, eyes and puffing out the chest

''We have an extensive list, you see, but we don't forget you'' Harry assured

''It's a great honor-- ''

'' --The list, of course, forbidden people'' The redhead smiled from ear to ear ''Now, if you'll excuse me ... ''

I've got a list of names and yours is in red, underlined I check it once, then I check it twice, oh! Look what you made me do

''She spoke shit of our marriage for a week'' Harry sighed ''I have never been so sad''

''She made me do that'' Ginny shrugged. ''That dress really made me beautiful. I hate you for tearing it up'' She slapped her husband on the back, who was laughing against her warm skin.

''You didn't look angry when I did that. In fact, I remember you groaned a lot. We had complaints from neighbors underneath''

''Living in a building was the worst idea ever'' Harry nodded, getting back on her chest, smiling at the feeling of being at home. ''She asked me for help\ last week''

"Who?"

''Rita'' Ginny laughed ''Maybe that's why today's story, she must be mad since I refused to help her''

I don't like your kingdom keys They once belonged to me

''Me and you?'' Ginny spoke a little disappointed, looking at the empty room and then at the woman in front of her ''I work at the sports session, Rita''

"But I need you to help me, Chudley Cannons has this new player and .."

'' ..I won't intercept them for you, do your dirty work alone'' The blonde nodded, looking unexpectedly like a demon from those muggle movies she and Harry had been watching

''My job is not dirty, Mrs Potter, it is as worthy as yours'' Ginny laughed, staring at her with an even worrying calm, seeing that lying red face in front of her ''We should unite here, be solidary with the other.''

''A job that consists of being invasive in the lives of others and making up lies, is not a worthy job, Mrs. Skeeter'' The last name looked like poison on her lips ''The last time I helped you, my name ended up in a not so friendly story about a naked photo of me that they had taken and were trying to sell around ... It seems that you didn't think much about the 'female sorority' before launching the article defaming me''

''I don't invent anything'' Ginny nodded sarcastically, turning away and heading back to her work area

''I'm sure not ... But thank me Rita, for not writing gossip'' Then she looked over her shoulder, still seeing her standing there ''I would have great topics to comment on''

You asked me for a place to sleep Locked me out and threw a feast (what?)

''I think they're going to fire her ... Beau has also been walking the tightrope for the past few days'' She dropped the newspaper, lying on the bed and coming face to face with Harry, rubbing his face and sighing tiredly ''Not that I care, it's just Karma''

''Definitely'' The husband kissed the tip of her nose, then the cheeks, until he reached her mouth, smiling and winking still a little sleepy ''The guy who sold the photos is still in prison. I went to Askaban yesterday and saw him, he looked a little crazy and upset when he saw me. The guards say he started having nightmares about me killing him.''

''Urgh, can't this family stay away from the drama for even a second? If Beau listens, you can be sure that tomorrow is the first page dedicated to that. "Harry Potter, the savior of the wizarding world or a torturer of defenseless poor people?"

''He's definitely not a helpless poor. And he's lucky that I didn't find him, because I would have left him with more damage than just a cut on his shoulder'' The green eyes darkened, and Ginny knew he wasn't horny ''They treated him so lovingly I even thought they would give him they own bed for him to spend the night ... While you can't leave the house for a week!''

''It's an unfair world, babe'' And as if that still didn't torment her, Ginny kissed her husband, relieved by the feeling that ran through her, as if the tension had evaporated away and only the two existed

The world moves on, another day, another drama, drama But not for me, not for me, all I think about is karma

''But I have you, my great savior'' She kissed him again, less deeply this time ''Some guys told me I deserved it ... You know, for whatever shit they believe I did. Michael met me on the street and said it was just me reaping what I planted.'' Harry rolled his eyes, sighing and seeming to control any instinct to leave their bed and go after each one

''I hate them so much'' Ginny nodded ''Last week a trainee made a joke about your poster is on the bedroom wall, facing the bed. I don't think he wanted me to hear'' His wife laughed, throwing her head back and happy that he could break the tension ''I'm serious, he affected having seen death''

'' ..I leave it facing my bed, because you know, don't you? Lonely nights and everything'' Harry took a deep breath, already being spotted by the freshman's other colleague, who was as white as paper looking over the boy's head, his eyes wide.

''If you continue like this, only what you will have will be lonely nights'' Then his malicious laugh stopped, and Harry even doubted that his breath was gone.

''Erm .. Sorry, Har ... Mr Potter'' The boy turned around, looking much more like one of their children when they were caught tampering with something where it shouldn't have been, not as an auror in training.

''Not that you should apologize to me, it wasn't my ass that you were using as an aid to wanking ... But hopefully next time, it will appear in your mind and leave it soft enough to not want to play for a week'''

And then the world moves on, but one thing's for sure

Maybe I got mine, but you'll all get yours

''He's still not looking me in the eye'' Ginny was still laughing, trying to contain the noise so as not to wake her children but looking almost impossible

''I really hope he saw your ass instead of mine .. Not that yours is ugly, I love her'' She kissed the tip of his nose, reaching down to squeeze the naked flesh ''All round and perfect'' Another kiss

''But it wasn't the one he wanted to see'' Ginny nodded, letting her be hugged ''I'm sorry for all this meddling''

''You don't have to apologize for anything, they're the ones who are fucking invasive. I accepted that life back in my fifth year, when you kissed me, and it wouldn't change a single point of my decisions '' The two looked at each other, Harry looking much more naked than he really was, blinking those beautiful green eyes in her direction, with a slight smile on his face

''I love you ... even if you are just here to steal my fortune, or if you are looking to get away with someone else ... ''

"... Or that I'm keeping you under the Love Potion?" Harry laughed, nodding

''Yes, I still love you so much'' Ginny smiled, even after all these years, still blushing shyly

''You look so romantic after I fuck you good'' He shrugged

"That's what they say ... But they say a lot, they already said they couldn't trust me when I was only 15 years old."

'' ..And today they use your opinion as a guide'' Ginny reminded him ''They always seem so sorry when you talk about the war'' Not that Harry talked much, but there was always a lecture here or there, and rather intrusive questions on the anniversary that marked the end. ''Rita always seems sorry about that time, but I never know if it is because we discovered her cover or just because there is a little humanity in her ... Anyway, I don't trust her at all. Not that she trusts me too much, of course. ''

I don't trust nobody and nobody trusts me

I'll be the actress starring in your bad dreams

Harry laughed softly, running his fingers over her cheek and outlining his wife's face, as if he wanted to frame her to never forget. Ginny took a hand on her cheek, kissing the scar he had acquired in the fifth year, as if to prove that they were there now. Better. Alive

''The date is coming ... What will they all write this time?'' Ginny shrugged, interlacing her fingers with his and approaching her husband, wrapping her bare leg around his waist

"Some shit that will make somebody cry and say 'he was just a kid!' while they congratulate you and frighten our children'' Our children, it was one of the things he would never tire of listening to. Harry chuckled, relaxing against her, laying his head back in the middle of her soft breasts, being surrounded by that heady scent that he would never get sick of.

''Isn't it crazy to think that Teddy is already so big? We're getting old ''

''Oh, don't say that too loud, magazines love to remind us of that. Last week a magazine said I should cut my hair again to 'look younger'.'' Harry laughed, running his fingers over the red strands that were on the pillow, not as long as when they were teenagers, but not as small as when she was played, but still incredibly beautiful.

''We're not the same anymore, are we?'' She doesn't need to ask what exactly he was talking about. The war had changed everyone, but Ginny and Harry would never be forgotten about their changes, even if she cut her hair and he let his hair grow, there would always be a gossip magazine reminding them who they once were. Students leading a movement against the Ministry, teenagers having to deal with things that not even an adult would handle well, among thousands more.

''It would be impossible to be'' She smiled a little colorless, before her maternal instinct warned her ''James woke up.'' And the alone and comfortable moment was over, the two of them picked up their fallen pajamas by the bed and they dressed at impressive speed, much faster and more prepared than when they were young and didn't want to be caught by Molly. Her mother was much more understandable than a 7-year-old son, under locked doors

They would never be the same again.

I'm sorry, the old Taylor can't come to the phone right now

Why?

Oh, 'cause she's dead!

''Good morning, mate'' Harry unlocked the door when the little one knocked, waving him to come to bed with them, as he knew it was his wish

''Morning'' he murmured sleepily, still looking sleepy, scratching his brown eyes and crawling on the sheets to stay in the middle, laying his head on his mother's chest like a baby, before going back to sleep calmly. Ginny kissed his slightly sweaty hair and hugged the small body that was now glued to hers.

''How long until the other two come too?'' She whispered, laughing softly as ahe tried to hear if there was noise from the other rooms as well.

''A few minutes'' Harry didn't look sad ''We can still run away ... We took them all and we were gone for a week'' Ginny laughed, denying and using her free hand to ruffle her husband's hair

''You could never do that'' She unmasked him ''But we can get away after an interview, I know the kids will love it ... ''

[...]

When the day came, there were, as always, reporters, cameras and people everywhere. It seemed that they never got tired of questioning every morbid detail of what the trio had been through in those years at Hogwarts.

But before the second interview started, Harry simply apparated with his whole family out, leaving everyone gaping when the six Potter (because Teddy would always be a Potter) simply disappeared, waving to the journalists before landing at the beach house of them, not far from London, but hidden enough that no one could find them.

"Tomorrow this will be on the cover of magazines" And it was.

''I do not care. They forced me to do this.. Ask about all the shit I went through? I do not care. Tease the kids?'' He waved to the kids running from Teddy who claimed to be a monster, laughing and screaming loudly, looking a lot less tense than they did a few minutes ago, when five journalists surrounded they to ask questions. ''I don't accept'' Harry would never let them take away their peace.

''Harry Potter, the wizard who saved the world or just a man in need of attention?

Harry Potter, 32, First Order of Merlin, Chief of Aurors, attended the Annual Anniversary Meeting of the End of the Second Witch War, with his wife Ginny Potter, his sons James, Albus and Lily Potter, as well as his godson Edward Lupin (known like Teddy). After the first interview (see more on page 15) the wizard who saved the world looked irritated when some questions started to be asked, and simply apparated the whole family out.

What does the editor of this newspaper think of this? Of two things, one; does the wizard who saved the world need attention and need his name back in the tabloids, or is it just a way to make everyone forget the possible betrayal he committed (see more on page 18) last Friday? ''

Look what you made me do

#reputation #hinny #hinny headcanon #Harry Potter #harry X ginny #ginnyPOTTER #hinny fluff #read-a-hinny-fic #hp fanfic #hp couples #rita skeeter #my fic

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sockablock · 4 years

Note

for the prompt giveaway: something with time travel! bonus points for whump. extra bonus points for caleb + beau or nott or molly. tysm. i love you.

fresh off the presses of final exams, @inkedinserendipity and @kaladins-angst, this one goes out to you

— — —

His eyes snap open, and for a second it feels like waking from a dream.

Golden light streams in through the windows. The sound of busy streets drifts up past his ears.

He throws the covers off. He scrambles to tug his boots on.

The rest are already downstairs, eating breakfast. He swears loudly at this. He combs his hair down. He reaches the table just as Beau lifts her glass, just as Fjord goes to smile and say:

“Hey! Look who’s final—”

“—ly awake.”

There’s a pause. Fjord blinks.

“Uh…ex—”

“—cuse me. Ja, you are excused.”

The silence stretches on a bit longer, this time. Caleb sits down. He wolfs down a biscuit. He looks almost more ravenous than Nott and only stops to drink some water and add:

“Jester, you are about to comment on my manners.”

She hesitates.

“…was not.”

The corner of his lip twitches up, then he nods. “Of course. But it is deserved, I supp—”

“What the fuck?” says Beau, then she swears and points at Caleb, “stop doing that—”

“—at already.” When her glare intensifies, he finally relents.

“Sorry, sorry,” he inhales half a muffin. “Sorry, but do you understand what is happening?”

“You’re being annoying.”

“Oh! Is this a new prank?!”

Nott rises in her chair and slaps her palms to the table.

“Dunamancy?” she asks. “Did something go wrong?”

Caleb nods. He looks proud, but mostly he just looks tired.

“Ja, in essence, that is what happened The long version is that later today, in this version of today, our mission is going to go poorly and all of us will die, and then I will wake up again.”

The group watches him down the rest of his mug.

“That is…the long version?” Yasha asks.

Caduceus hands him a napkin. He takes it. He nods.

“It has felt pretty long to me, anyway. This is the…götter, the twelfth time I have come back.”

“You must be really feeling the whiplash, then,” says Fjord.

Caleb gives him a look. It’s answered with a shrug.

“I mean…weirder things have happened to us before,” tries Nott. Caleb smiles; this is the eighth time she’s been the first one to agree. “What, uh…what exactly is going to happen, did you say?”

“We need all the details,” Beau nods. Her expression is stony now, all traces of snark gone. “Especially if it involves us…dying.”

“The even-longer version,” Yasha supplies helpfully.

Caleb slides his plate aside. He takes a deep breath.

“In an hour, we are going to go on that mission to uncover the final Beacon for the dynasty. The ruins will be difficult to navigate, but we manage. Jester is going to graffiti the walls and Fjord is going to nearly trip into a pit.”

“Oh, er…that’s…good to know, I suppose.”

“Indeed. Sometimes we take a short rest after that, sometimes we forge on ahead. Regardless, once we have moved past that point, when we reach the third level of the temple—”

“Wait, wait, wait,” says Beau, “these ruins are a temple? To who?”

Caleb shakes his head. “We never quite make it far enough to find out. Your working theory is that it is some god divorced from the the pantheon, connected to the Luxon if it is not the Luxon itself.”

She whistles. “I came up with that, huh?”

“Ja, and I am inclined to believe you. However, whatever this…diety was, it left behind something very powerful. In the final room that we stumble into, there is always the Beacon, sitting on a pedestal, surrounded by ancient iconography. And there is always also something else in that room, like a…like a shadowy force…almost alive, made of a strange grey mist. And it always kills us, in the end.”

He reaches out blindly and Nott provides a mug. He drinks it. The group mulls this over.

“Well,” says Fjord eventually, “that sucks.”

“So then…have we tried just not doing the mission?” Nott asks.

Caleb nods miserably. “My second time back, we tried that. A day went past, and after I went to sleep, I just woke up at the start of today.” He gestures to himself. “Like I did now.”

“Did we try to fight in the last cycle?” Caduceus asks.

“Ja. A number of you fell before I finally died.”

The weight of that “finally” leaves a chill in the air. Jester hands him a pastry.

“Have we…oh! Have we asked the Dynasty for help? Surely they would know how to fix this?” she says.

“We tried during cycle ten,” Caleb sighs. “Essik teleported over and everything. He…gave a theory and I believe he may be right.”

“Which is?” Fjord asks.

Caleb grimaces. “He believes that the spell I tried got disrupted by the presence of a Beacon so close to it. He thinks that the only way to undo this is to cast it in reverse, once again, before the Beacon.”

“Oh, well that does not seem so bad,” Yasha leans back and crosses her arms. “We can just do that then, yes?”

“Yes, only the spell takes a minute to cast. It was a miracle I got it off the first time, I have no idea if I can do it again. We just failed, trying to do it again.”

“You just failed,” Beau points out helpfully. “We’re fresh off the failure scale.”

Caleb shifts his stare towards her.

“I’m just saying. That attitude isn’t going to help.”

“It’s nice to see you being positive,” Caduceus rumbles. “I like it.”

Beau grins. “Thanks! You know, I’m tryin’ something new.”

“Anyway,” Nott pointedly interjects, as Caleb begins to massage his temples, “anyway, it doesn’t hurt to try again, does it? I mean, how many times have we died?”

“Nine times.”

“Nine?”

“Is it all of us?”

Caleb shrugs. “I, ah…admittedly, go down rather early, so I do not know if all of us are defeated each time. But I have watched each individual one of you die. At least once.”

“Yikes,” says Fjord.

He closes his eyes. He can hear Beau tapping her chin at his side.

“So…hang on, what if this is like…a dream, then, or something? What if you’re still dead right now and this is just some kind of vision? Or maybe you’re having a mental break?”

“I would prefer that not to be the case,” he mutters. “I have…done that once before, I would not like to again.”

“—shit. Sorry—”

He waves a hand. “It is alright. I do understand your hesitation, however, and I assure you that…as far as I am aware, admittedly with my grip on reality a bit tense—”

“We believe you.”

He looks up, and his friends are all gazing back at him.

Jester hands him another pastry. It’s some kind of sugary fruit tart.

“I’m sorry you’re…stuck in time,” she says. “But I’m glad that you tried to come back for us. And I’m really happy that…well, at least for now, that we aren’t dead.”

“Yeah,” says Nott, nodding fervently. “Time loop or not, we’ll figure this out!”

“Time loop or…” Fjord pinches the bridge of his nose. “When did our lives get so weird?”

“Sometime just after the sword-swallowing, I think.” Beau claps a hand over Caleb’s shoulder. “Alright, let’s…do this, I guess. Do you have a plan for how we’ll keep you alive during your little ritual?”

Swept up in their wave of intent, he manages, “Ah…er…not yet, we tried the Hut once, but the mist can go through floors—”

“Then we create a new plan,” says Yasha.

“Whatever you think might work best, Mister Caleb. Are you…feeling alright, by the way?” Caduceus lifts an eyebrow. “If you say this is the twelfth time you’ve come back, the thirteenth time we’ve repeated today, then I imagine that’s a bit of a strain on the mind.”

“It is…certainly not pleasant,” Caleb mutters, then blinks and rubs his face, looks up.

“You all…I am worried that this is a…well, I am afraid that in telling you of our failures, I have discouraged you all.”

Beau tilts her chair back, puts a foot on the table. She is instantly chastised by Fjord, and scowls.

“Nah,” she says, setting her chair back on the ground, “nah. Failure is like…our thing. It’s…how we learn, anyway,” she eventually amends.

“And what other option do we have?” Yasha asks. “To sit back and do nothing? That is not what we do.”

“Let’s give it another shot,” Jester says, thumping Caleb on the arm. “You said you got it once before, that means it’s not impossible to do! We just have to keep trying!”

“It’s easier for us, I suppose, since we don’t…actually remember, but…” Fjord gives Caleb a nod. “It looks like, so far, you haven’t given up on us. The least we can do is not give up on you.”

“I…cannot make any promises,” he begins—

“You don’t need to,” Nott says. “Come on, not for us.”

“What is it that they say about the number thirteen? It’s lucky or something, right?” Yasha asks.

“Actually,” says Beau, “depending on where you’re from, it can be, like, wicked unluck—”

Jester elbows her in the ribs.

“Ow, wha—oh. I mean, it’s super lucky, duh.”

Caleb glances down at the pastry in his hands.

He takes a bite.

“Well,” he manages, slowly, steadily. “I suppose that is something we will find out, ja?”

—

Ko-fi in bio✨ | Finished 5k fic prompts right here! 💜 Requests Are CLOSED!

#critical role #critrole #critfic #fic #cr2 #long post #GOD SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG YALL #college came at me without mercy but im BACK #FOR NOW #AND !!!!!!! these prompts fuckin ruled so i hope you enjoy sdhfjskhfjk <333333333 #jay writes #fanfic #5k fic request #jay fills requests #text

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jacquiesims · 4 years

Text

Viper Canyon - Chapter Four

“...Try not to think about the future. It is much too uncertain here. Think only of living in the moment, when you are young and Viper Canyon holds so much promise for you. Swear to me you’ll do just that, all right?”

January, 1852

The New Year had come to pass in Viper Canyon. Families privately enjoyed quiet celebrations from within their humble homesteads, warmly welcoming twelve more months of excitement and uncertainty. Each was sure to pray that The Watcher had good things in store for their simple little frontier town.

The Hawkins clan prayed a bit harder than most.

Papa had yet to find a vein of gold in the mines. The family had come with plenty of savings, but with the construction of a much-needed barn on their property on top of their costs of living over the past months, their safe was teetering toward the dangerous brink of being completely devoid of Simoleons.

They were surviving on next to nothing a day. The girls worked hard at home to tend to their meager garden and the animals they’d brought with them all the way from the east coast. What little they were able to harvest and collect was enough to survive on, but there was an uneasiness that pervaded the air around the house as each member of the Hawkins family worried about the indefinite future.

Mamma and Winnie were sipping on evening cups of coffee at the end of a long day, both waiting patiently for Beatrice to finish her chores while making sure to mind the stove that held Papa’s dinner warm inside.

“When I was in town today I spoke with Mr. Monroe. He was kind enough to let me know that he’s been needing someone to work the till at his store, what with this influx of miners that are staying nearby. Apparently the store is much too busy during the week for the two of them to handle, and he figured he would save the cost of posting an ad in the city paper by asking me if you would like to work there.”

“Me?” Winnie asked, quite surprised. “Why, I’ve never worked a till before. And surely I’m needed much more badly here than at the general store.”

“I should think not. The money would certainly help a great deal. You did so well at arithmetic in your schooling, I figured counting money and keeping track of inventory would be no problem for you. But I did let Mr. Monroe know I would have to speak with you about it first, to make sure you were up for it.”

Winnie smiled, trying to imagine life as a salesgirl. “Well…perhaps it would be nice, to have a job of my own. A bit exciting, even, getting to know all of the faces that come in and out of the store. But Papa wouldn’t be upset? I’m not sure if he’d be fond of the idea of me working a counter where miners were coming in and out all day.”

“I’ll have a talk with Papa when he gets home tonight. I’m sure he won’t have an issue with it, especially if you’re keen on the idea. I figured if you worked at the store and did well enough, Mr. Monroe would be happy to let your position pass to Bea once we get closer to your wedding.”

Hearing Mamma speak so casually about Winnie’s betrothal to Peter sent an electric shock through her chest.

It was easy to forget during her day to day life that she was in fact someone’s fiancée – she was so busy that when she found a spare minute in the day to rest she more often than not spent that time devouring one of her books she’d received for Winterfest. That way, the only time she had for her thoughts to wander was at night, and she was usually too tired to drift off on her familiar clouds of daydreams.

She found this was the best formula to avoid confronting the harsh truth that she was, in the coming year, to marry a man she harbored no sweet feelings toward. She swallowed the knot in her throat and faced her mother with an intense look in her eyes.

Mamma was taken aback. “What’s wrong? You’ve changed moods so suddenly.”

“How can I marry a man I don’t love, Mamma?” Speaking on the private doubts and fears that she had kept to herself for the past month made Winnie feel like she was on the verge of throwing up. “You told me to give it time, and I’ve been patient. But we have about as much in common as this desert and the green valleys back home! I…I wonder if I’ll be able to find happiness in our marriage. Mamma, it’s just eating me up inside, it truly is.”

A strange expression crossed Mamma’s face that Winnie had never seen before. Her entire body was burning with anxiety and worry that she’d said the wrong thing. Winnie had never once in her life been in her mother’s bad graces – Mamma herself even said that her eldest child came out smiling like a cherub – but now she thought she had finally managed to strike a sour chord.

“I suppose it’s only natural you feel that way,” Mamma sighed, after a great pause. “You have been pushed into the match a bit forcefully, after all.”

Winnie was afraid to speak. Her mouth felt strange and fuzzy from confessing her fears, but what Mamma told her was assuring nonetheless. It made Winnie feel as though maybe she wasn’t being so irrational after all.

“Why don’t I tell you a story? Come sit down with me and I’ll tell you about when I was just a little older than you are now.”

Winnie and Mamma made their way to the sofa and sat down together.

Mamma took a deep breath, watching as Winnie bunched up the skirt of her dress in her fists. She gently rested her hand atop her daughter’s with a tender look.

“I don’t believe I’ve ever told you this before, but I suppose now is the perfect opportunity. Back when I was a girl growing up, I lived with my father – your grandfather – on our farm. We lived in a beautiful little village surrounded by trees and green and life all around. I had a very charmed life, and I was very privileged. I was much like you and your sister were back when we lived back in the city.”

“My mother had passed away when I was young enough to have no memories of her. My father and I lived in our cottage on the outskirts of the village with nary a care in the world. I was endlessly spoiled and wanted for nothing. We were lucky enough to employ a woman who would cook and clean for us during the day so I was free to explore the forests and wade in the creeks and do as I pleased.

“At that age, our neighbors and friends considered me to be quite beautiful. I caught the eye of many young men and even maintained a beau or two merely because I could. My father was in no rush to marry me off and I entertained the idea that I would one day become an eccentric old spinster, living in our cottage for the rest of my days…I was quite naïve back then. In fact, I see a lot of my younger self in you, Winnie.”

“My father had always been strong and robust in my eyes, but losing my mother had taken its toll on him. Day by day, he grew a bit weaker, until he eventually fell ill just after my twentieth birthday. It was then my father informed me that when he passed away, the farm would go to his cousin, but through some circumstance when they were boys, their relationship had deteriorated. My father let me know that when my cousin inherited our farm he would, without a doubt, force me out of the place out of spite. I was heartbroken, but I hardly had time to think about the future because I was so busy helping with things around the farm and making sure my father had what he needed as his health crumbled more and more every day.”

“I began to realize that I had taken advantage of all of that time I so blindly wasted as a girl. I had spent all of my days frolicking out of doors when I should have been cherishing each moment I had left with my father.

“What I didn’t know, however, was that my father had only my future in mind. Without my knowing, he reached out to one of his old friends with whom he had kept a close correspondence with ever since their youth. This friend had seen all of his four sons married except the last, who had recently gone to Simdon in search of his fortune only to come back empty-handed.”

“I knew nothing of this until one day I came downstairs to find a stranger in the parlor. My father introduced me to him and let us talk in the back garden unchaperoned. The man was honest with me that he was penniless and had nothing to offer me but a simple life as a carpenter’s wife. I realized then that my father planned to save me from a cruel fate by marrying me off to a stranger – but how could I defy him and turn down this man I had never met when all my father wanted for me was a secure future?

“I decided to marry him, if only to please my father and ease some of his worries as he slowly grew worse and worse each day. After the banns had been posted we were married in the village church. My father used the last of his strength to walk me down the aisle and give me away to the son of his best friend.”

“Within the next few weeks, my father eventually succumbed to his illness and passed away. It…was the deepest sorrow I’d ever known. My father was all I had in the world and I was lost without him. I was certain then, in my grief, that I would never know happiness again. It is true that time can heal all wounds…but when it comes to losing a loved one, all time can do is make the grief a little less each day – but it will never truly make it go away completely. And why should it? Grief is only a reminder that you love someone deeply, despite them being gone.

“Fortunately, my new husband was respectful and kept his distance. He even packed away my things for me and arranged for us to move to Richmond, where he used the money my father had left us to open a shop where he sold his woodworking.”

“We made a good living, once I was out of mourning and able to gather the strength to carry out my duties as a wife. The business eventually did so well that we were able to sell it. There was never a dull moment with him - he was always going back and forth between new jobs, trying to grasp the smallest foothold with his fingertips to advance our place in society, no matter how slim the chances. We got to know each other through that hectic life, despite it all becoming the respected family we were in town. He admitted to me that he felt as though he’d been struck by Cupid’s arrow when I came down the stairs and into the parlor on the day we met…. Eventually, feelings of love began to form between us. And then, after a few years, The Watcher blessed us with you.”

“I found happiness with your father, despite the tragic means through which we came to know each other. I love your father deeply. He was by my side through a time in my life in which all I saw behind and ahead of me was a pitch black darkness. He waited until I was ready for us to truly become man and wife…and for that I will always cherish him and be faithful to him.”

Winnie watched her mother carefully with tears in her eyes. Hearing the tragic story of her mother’s youth had stirred the deepest parts of her soul.

“It is my most ardent hope that you will find that same true love and happiness with Peter. You say you have nothing in common, and I ask you to look at your own parents. We aren’t similar by any means, but I’ve come to see us as two sides of the same coin. Perhaps we may be vastly different at face value, but we share a core – not only as husband and wife, and the love we have for each other, but as mother and father to Bea and yourself.”

“I would never, and I mean never, have let your engagement to Peter take place if I didn’t see a bright and wonderful future together between you two. He’s a lovely young man, full of life and hope and I know he would make an excellent husband for any woman.”

“I trust you, Mamma. And I believe you.”

She finally smiled. It filled Winnie with a great sense of relief. “All I ask is that you get to know him with eyes unclouded. Try not to think about the future. It is much too uncertain here. Think only of living in the moment, when you are young and Viper Canyon holds so much promise for you. Swear to me you’ll do just that, all right?”

“I promise, Mamma.”

For a moment, they only looked at each other. Winnie found that she now saw her mother differently. Where she had seen a withdrawn, passive, and submissive woman the day before, she now saw a quiet inner strength and steel resolve that were invisible to the naked eye.

Mamma, however, felt as though she was looking through a mirror to the past. There was so much of herself in her daughter, but there was also something more faintly glimmering beneath the surface – a hint of the woman her daughter would one day grow to become.

“Now, that’s enough with all that. My mind’s on the wedding now and I’ve just realized I have yet to show you the linens I inherited from my own mother and grandmother as a girl. If you’re to have them when you marry Peter, it’s high time I took them out to show you. It took a great deal of convincing to get your father to sacrifice precious space in the wagon to bring them with us.”

Winnie felt herself cheer up a little. “I’d like that very much.”

“WHAT?!”

Mamma and Winnie turned around to see a horrified Beatrice standing in the doorway.

“Peter’s to marry Winnie?!”

“Oh – oh, Bea, I’m so sorry! We’ve been waiting to say anything – ” Winnie tried and failed to explain the situation to her sister before she began shrieking.

“Mamma! You simply cannot be serious! The only boy I’ve ever fancied and of course Winnie just has to come and snatch him away from me with her wicked claws!” Beatrice’s voice was shrill and climbed in octaves as she screamed, her eyes welling with tears. “I never get anything I want, ever! I’ll never be good enough for this family, will I? I’d be better off dead!”

“Beatrice Elizabeth Hawkins! How dare you say something so horrible!”

Mamma didn’t have the chance to scold Beatrice before the girl turned on her heel and ran off into the cold desert night.

“What are we to do?” Winnie asked her mother desperately. “I never wanted her to find out like this. I just knew she would be beside herself.”

She took a deep breath in and released it quickly. “If she wants to throw a tantrum and act like a child, then so be it. I doubt she’ll get very far on foot and with the way she’s acting I’d be hard pressed to want to follow her any time soon. If she hasn’t come back by the time Papa comes home we’ll head down the way to Elijah’s and round up the men to look for her.”

“Are you sure, Mamma? What if she gets lost? Or taken by the natives? I’ve heard terrible stories….”

“It won’t do you or her any good to worry. And I’m certain the natives won’t be tempted to steal away someone who can scream and cause a fuss such as Bea can.” Mamma quickly finished her cup of coffee and began to put everything on the table away with short, choppy movements. “I’m sure she’s just going to have a good cry where we can’t hear her and she’ll be back to apologize soon if she knows what’s good for her.”

Less than an hour later, Papa finally arrived home, but Beatrice was still nowhere to be seen.

Mamma and Winnie explained the situation to him – how they’d been discussing the wedding and Beatrice had overheard, causing her to run into the night – and he chewed his lip for a moment in thought.

“Well, there’s nothing to be done, then. Let me go down to Elijah’s so we can get a search party together.”

Elijah seemed a little annoyed with the whole situation but was more than willing to help the Hawkins get a group together to comb the desert in search of Beatrice.

Papa and Elijah rode back up the dirt road to the Hawkins homestead, coming slowly into view from the darkness. The adults talked between themselves in hushed tones before turning to Winnie.

“It’s best you stay here in case Bea comes home,” Papa explained from atop his horse. “I want someone at the house in case she does. Now, listen carefully. I’ve got a gun in the drawer of my bedside table and the bullets are in the top left drawer in the dresser. If Bea comes home, I give you permission to fire one shot into the air outside. That’ll let us know we can come back, all right?”

Winnie was terrified of guns and even more terrified of having one loaded in front of her sister when she was so upset, but nodded solemnly. “All right, Papa. Is there anything else I can do to help? I – I don’t know what to do, it just feels like this was all my fault…”

Elijah turned to Winnie. “It’s all right. We’ll get your sister back safe and sound. There’s no way she made it very far. And then you two can talk through whatever it is that made her so upset.”

After Elijah, Mamma, and Papa had gone to fetch Joseph Ebey up the road, Winnie was waiting patiently at the house when there was a quiet knock at the door.

She steeled herself to face her sister as she slowly approached the door, turning the knob with a shaky hand. Instead of Beatrice, however, there stood Peter, who was smiling from ear to ear per usual.

“Evening, Winnie. Your mother gave me permission to come over here and keep you company while everyone goes out to look for Bea. She’s cooking up some late night supper for the men with my mother back at our farm in the meantime.”

Winnie suddenly felt her stomach twist into knots. Now that she had agreed to see Peter in a different light, it made her anxious to be alone with her fiancé. She had yet to spend time unchaperoned with him since he’d proposed in the upstairs loft the month before.

“Oh. By all means, come inside. Would you like some tea or coffee? Or maybe some bread and preserves?”

Peter shook his head, still smiling. “I’m quite all right, thank you. I was thinking we could just talk instead. It’s rare when we get time alone, isn’t it? Your mother is pretty strict when it comes to chaperoning us.”

Winnie nodded, privately wishing her mother was quietly sitting in the corner armchair with her needlepoint like she usually was when Peter came to visit.

The two of them settled down at the dining table. Winnie felt Peter’s blue eyes on her face and she couldn’t keep the blush from rising in her cheeks as he scooted in closer, his face marred with concern.

“If you don’t mind my asking, why did Bea run off? Your father was in too much of a hurry to explain to us what had gotten her so upset.”

“She – well…” Winnie trailed off, thinking of hiding the truth before she realized that she had made a promise to her mother to start anew with Peter. “The truth is that she overheard my mother and I talking about the wedding. We hadn’t planned on telling her until we were closer to the day, but she found out in a terrible way and it hurt her feelings greatly. I suppose that’s because she’s still sweet on you.”

Peter’s shoulders instantly drooped. Before they could talk any more on the subject, the sound of voices outside drew their attention to the front windows.

Outside, the men of Viper Canyon had arrived on horseback while Verity and Mamma trailed close behind on foot.

Beatrice was gently lowered from Papa’s lap on the back of his horse to the ground. She was on her feet for no longer than a few seconds before he dismounted and swept his youngest child into his arms. Beatrice wrapped her arms around his neck like a little girl. It was clear for everyone to see that she was still crying miserably.

The men who had been roused out of bed to find Beatrice looked irritated yet simultaneously relieved. There was a great tipping of hats and quiet ‘farewell’s as the men who lived closer to Main Street departed on their horses and Joseph followed quickly behind.

“That didn’t take very long at all, thank The Watcher.” Peter observed.

Papa looked weary. “She wasn’t far. Just crying where she thought no one would find her. But she’ll be all right.”

Elijah looked back and forth between Peter and Winnie suspiciously. Cogs were turning in his mind, but not nearly quickly enough to put together the pieces of the hush-hush engagement that had taken place between the two of them.

“I’m just glad she’s home safe,” Elijah said decidedly. “If you don’t need me for anything else, I’m going to head back home.”

“Thank you for all your help tonight,” Papa said sincerely. “I don’t know what I’d do if…if something bad happened to one of my girls. I appreciate it more than you’ll ever know.”

“It was nothing. I’d be glad to do it again. Have a good night, Emmett. Peter and Winnie, take care.”

“I think I’ll walk back home, now that Bea’s back home safe. It was nice talking to you, Winnie, even if it wasn’t for very long. Hopefully we’ll have more time like that together before the wedding.”

Again, that familiar bolt of electricity shot through Winnie – this time, she instantly recognized it as raw panic. She found her eyes betraying her as they locked on Elijah’s, whose face was uncharacteristically shocked. His mouth moved back and forth for a moment as the pieces finally clicked into place in his mind.

“I, er…good night, then.”

Promptly, he was down the road on horseback, leaving Papa behind with Winnie and Peter.

“Good night, Peter,” Papa said shortly. “We’ll see you soon, I’m sure.”

“Of course. Good night, Mr. Hawkins. And good night, Winnie.”

Papa and Mamma wordlessly retreated to the back room, leaving Winnie to climb every excruciating step up the staircase into the loft. She’d always bitterly hated confrontation, ever since she was young, and now she was going to have an acrid mouthful of it from her own sister.

To Winnie’s surprise, however, she found that Beatrice was already sound asleep in bed. Even though she knew their conversation about what had taken place wouldn’t come in that instant, it did little to ease the nervousness bubbling in her belly.

As quietly as she could, Winnie changed into her nightgown and plaited her hair, climbing into her bed mere feet away from Beatrice’s.

Beatrice’s back was turned to Winnie and the room felt unnaturally cold. They had always slept facing each other, ever since they were small – they had both grown up afraid of the dark.

“Bea?” Winnie whispered softly. “Bea, just know…that I’m sorry. And I love you. Sweet dreams.”

In her bed, Beatrice sniffed softly.

To Be Continued

Previous Chapter | Viper Canyon Index | Chapter Five

(I finally finished it! I hope it was worth the wait, I felt like this chapter was one of the better ones I’ve done :) Hopefully there was enough drama and suspense to keep everyone happy until CH5 comes.

I haven’t figured out what I want to happen between this and the little baby timeskip that happens, so I ask you to please be patient! This story is going to be pretty long and I’m trying to iron out the kinks in the plot before it’s too late. And I’m already thinking about a sequel

Anyway, as always, let me know what you thought! I’d love to know where you think the story is going, things you’d like to see, favorite characters, etc. it just makes me happy to know others love this story because I’ve put a lot of time into it! See you in Chapter 5!!)

#ts2 #sims 2 #ts2 story #viper canyon #viper canyon: chapter four #viper canyon story

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nikolawhoresinov · 5 years

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When they run, the whole thing is shrouded in some great and dreadful fear, but it's together. They make it out together.

Yasha doesn't have time to think about Obann until the light of day hits them, and even then, it's fleeting. The Laughing Hand still chases them, lumbering through the twisting caverns below much slower, but unstoppable. And just like every other time, everyone seems to feel horrible guilt for whatever went wrong deep beneath the surface of the land, in the tomb of a God's champion.

They're scared, as they should be, and they run, as they should. And they cross the plane and make it back to Bazzoxan still feeling dread like static electricity. There's something in the air, like Beau is smelling it clean for the first time. Her attention turns to Yasha, who's gaze is far away.

There's something coming, Beau writes it off as the thing that just tore its way from an ancient coffin, but she's kidding herself. She knows it.

There's nothing comfortable about the Ready Room, just as there's nothing comfortable about Bazzoxan. None of them particularly want to stay here. In fact, the general want is just to get the fuck as far away from here as they possibly can- but that has to wait, because magical means are out of their grasp right now, and walking would do them no good. Seven bodies, bruised and battered, haul themselves up a sturdy ladder and into the loft space. Seven bodies curl up like cats and lick their wounds, and never stray too far from each other. Not tonight. The sleep that finds them is sticky and fitful and all together restless.

Yasha finds it the worst. This is hardly the least comfortable place she's slept, but every little thing finds a reason to keep her awake. The howling wind and the icy way it blows through the cracks in the walls, the bedding like hard earth less comfortable than sleeping on grass, the memories the come for her like half forgotten nightmares. Obann, his hand a lifeline, pulling her from despair and from the very edge of lifelessness. Obann, taking a hopeless and directionless woman and turning her into and abomination. Forcing her- telling her- guiding her to strike. Encouraging her- teaching her- shaping her into something she never thought possible. Someone who- someone who- watched her hands do- so freely committed- things she didn't want to do- such gleeful atrocities. She lay on the edge of sleep, tossing and turning and half dreaming the sound of thunder. Or, at the very least, hoping for it.

It's dark, quiet but for the crying of wind and dust when Yasha resigns to open her eyes. Across the room she can see the moonlit blues and shining skin of Beau's back, curled up and facing the wall. The bed groans horribly when she rolls to escape from it, and she sits a moment just to make sure, but the rest of the Nein stay quiet, sleeping off the fight. In the calm of night, Yasha crosses the floor, and she sits at the top of the ladder that leads down into the Ready Room.

She doesn't hear the feet that follow her, stealthing on purpose or not, but Beau sits down without a word beside her. She's soft, even when she doesn't realise it. She's got tired eyes and bare feet and clothes that move around her like the wind. She's got her hair down, and when Yasha looks over, she almost reaches out to tuck it behind Beau's ear. She doesn't count the minutes they sit in silence, but she'd cherish them.

"I, uh-" Beau starts, hesitant. Her boldness gone, her voice fitting into the silence like it was made there. Like the other half of the melody that is Yasha's perpetually gentle tone. "Guess you'll be going soon."

"Yeah," she answers, just as reluctant, "I- I am afraid so."

"After all that?" Beau's brows draw together, and she doesn't look at Yasha. She can't. "Feels-"

"When I go," Yasha cuts her off, soft and weighty. "I hope you know it's not- I'm not leaving you. It's... something else. It's, um- I do not want to leave you all behind, just..."

"It just turns out that way," Beau finishes for her, and Yasha nods, and there's another silence between them. Heavy, electric. It sits for so long, Beau doesn’t know how to go on.

"Thank you, Beau. You did not have to... to chase me here just because he knew my name."

"Was it worth it?"

"No." Yasha laughs, soft like the breeze and mirthless. "No, it wasn't."

"We would've gone anywhere with you. If it was what you wanted. I mean, within reason, I probably wouldn't, like, jump off a cliff for you or anything."

"But you jumped out of a tree," Yasha says, and her voice doesn't sound quite so heavy, and in the moonlight, Beau can see the corners of her mouth upturn.

"I did do that. That was more to get away from the roc that was trying to kill us all, but... y'know. Same same."

Yasha laughs, and it's the best sound either of them have heard in days. Beau would come to cherish it.

"I am sorry, too," Yasha goes on, after another brief silence. "I don't know what for. A lot of things, I suppose. I... well, I hope I don't bring so much trouble with me, next time."

"Oh, don't-" Beau starts, and she has trouble continuing. She chews on her words a moment, and they become even more stubborn when rough, cold fingers find her palm in the dark, and slide over it, and thread through the spaces between hers. There's silence, and Beau holds her breath for so long she doesn't know how she manages to remain conscious. "Don't." Don't apologize. Don't go. Don't show kindness. Don't. "It's been nice, having you around, but if you have to go do some shit for your god-"

"I know you don't understand it. I'm not sure I understand, either."

"I don't have to understand."

Beau feels keenly the fingers in her hand shift, hold tighter. She feels so much hesitance and so strong a resolve.

"I will come back to you," Yasha promises, so softly its like Beau imagined it. "I always do."

There's no answer from Beau, who sits quietly with a pair of hands rested on her knee. She can't look at Yasha, who can't look at her, but there's something between their palms. Hot and fervent and nervous, and worse than the rising Bazzoxan heat. And neither of them want to let go. Though, finally and with dissatisfaction, Yasha's hand slips free, and there's not another word spoken between them. Yasha climbs quietly down the ladder in the dark, and in the dim light of the store, Beau sees her glance back. And then she's gone, and it's silent.

Beau sits quietly for however long it takes, and dawn doesn't ever break properly. The thunder rolls in the distance when Yasha is long gone, and Beau hears it break once or twice, and she doubts it would ever rain here, but the clouds keep the sunlight and the terrible heat at bay for a little while longer.

#beauyasha #beau x yasha #critical role #crit role #cr #c2 #i wrote somethin

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yfere · 5 years

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Healing Hands

Read on AO3

Yasha’s hands were trembling, and she hated herself for it. Hated it. She never shook when she swung the Magician’s Judge, never flinched away from blood when it ran into her eyes, down her arms or her sides. When the cold wave of fury took her, she was precise, silent, unshakable. Everything in her still and untroubled. But not when she did this, this thing that came from a different part of her entirely, that screamed cowardcowardcoward for every measly, weak pulse of healing that trickled from her fingertips. She always lost too much of it. Always jerked her hands away from the warm slick of their blood too soon.

It made it worse that Beau was always grateful. That they all were. But Yasha knew better, knew where she was failing. She could only just manage to stay silent on the matter, and press the shame flat against the unforgiving surfaces of her memory. Turn it into something less three dimensional, less real, something to turn away from and put away until the next time she was afraid.

She couldn’t help but watch the others, and compare. Nott, dashing with her potions, cracking teeth against the bottles. Her narrow-eyed concentration on a brew, how she’d swoop down on flowers that Yasha was looking at because she needed that, it could be medicine for someone. Caduceus, the best of them, with a faint smile and a slightly waving hand, knitting something together that ran a little deeper than the gashed flesh and fractured bones. Beau, who had nothing, and yet kept pulling and beating them away from death, who always worked so hard and would know how to use this power of Yasha’s far better than she. And Jester. Who didn’t need to sink away to another place to be able to fight, who could kill and wear her heart on her sleeve and somehow not break for it. And that, Yasha thought, was surely why her healing was so unhesitating, so perfect. An eager, bubbling torrent, carbonation in the back of the throat, like the sparkling wine at the Chateau that made Yasha wonder for the first time if she could drink for something other than getting drunk.

As always Yasha pulled away from Fjord too quickly, feeling scalded by the proximity. Not able to bear the thought of him coming to consciousness and how his first thought seeing her face must be that she was a threat. How could she touch anyone, after what she—

She turned away only to be nearly blown back by another explosion, and for a moment she worried that Caleb was lost, that he had another fireball after all—but when the debris cleared she only saw Nott, crossbow raised and with a slowly dawning horror crawling up her face.

Jester was screaming, and already running forward. Past the body of the incubus—and Yasha nearly plunged beneath the ice again at the sight—and to the charred body of Caduceus. Caduceus. How long had he been down?

Tears were spilling freely from Jester’s eyes, but she didn’t fumble, didn’t shake as she pulled out the diamond. As she weaved her hands in a steady sigil and the diamond fractured into sparkling, flowing fragments, Yasha had to turn away. A true miracle. How could she survive, looking at a thing like that head on? And of course it would be Jester to do it.

“It was my last spell,” Jester slurred to her, when Caleb finished the Tiny Hut a while after. “I got to keep everyone. I’m so tired.”

“Then sleep,” Yasha said, trying to sound gentle. She wanted to crush Jester to her chest—thank you for saving everyone—but she couldn’t, she couldn’t bear to touch her right then.

Fjord said they couldn’t take the chance that more tears to the Abyss wouldn’t appear around the Anchor as they slept. Caleb volunteered the first watch, and at the beat of silence that followed, began to shrink into himself. “Oh—you think—”

Beau started to make a protesting sound. “I trust you,” Yasha said, firmly. He needed to hear it, and they did too. “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep for a while though. Can I stay up with you.”

He nodded, silent. So they sat together by the edge of the Hut, Nott scampering off with a pained look after failing to get Caleb to respond to her with more than tired hand motions. She’d pressed leather straps into Yasha’s flinching hands as she left, extracting a promise that she would try to translate. But Yasha couldn’t get her head on straight enough to try to read anything right then. She doubted Caleb would be able to focus on the job of watching either—and that was part of why it felt so appropriate, so right to be with him right then. He had hurt her, and she had hurt him, and she felt like they could understand each other better right now than any of the others.

Unless she didn’t understand him. When she worked up the courage to glance at him out of the corner of her eye, she found him clutching his stone in a white-knuckled grip, feverishly writing in a book with his other hand. The blood and soot stood out even more gruesomely on his skin in the light of the driftglobe, and Yasha realized with a sinking feeling just how used she was to the sight of Caleb near death.

“What are you doing?” she asked, and he started so violently his pen tore a hole in the page. “Scheisse.”

“I’m sorry. I meant—” What she really wanted to do was apologize, but she realized she didn’t quite have the words for it, that could stretch around the enormity of her guilt. Caleb blinked at her with a kind of hazy confusion, before opening his palm and thrusting his stone almost directly beneath her nose. It took some effort of will not to hit him in reaction to the sudden movement.

“I have an idea,” he said, with an intensity that surprised her.

“You…do?”

“When I saw Jester with the diamond. I am tired of—today was—she spent so much of her energy on me, on trying to keep me alive, after. Well, after.”

After you tried to kill her? Or I tried to kill you? A dangerous question to ask. Yasha stayed silent.

“I am always getting hurt, and I do not want to be a burden to you all. I want to return the favor, and—I think I can, in a way. Because. What makes a diamond so different from any other kind of rock?”

Yasha thought about it. “I don’t know—they’re prettier? I don’t really understand it. They seem sort of the same.”

Caleb nodded. “It’s value, and value is not such a—a thing everyone thinks of in the same way. Like Nott—she loves things like door handles, and doilies, that are not so important for people like Beauregard or you or me. If you can make the world think anything is so valuable as a diamond, then anything can be a diamond, I think.”

Yasha wasn’t entirely sure what Caleb was saying, but she pictured him doing what Jester had done with Caduceus, and thought she understood a little. “You want to be like Jester,” she said, realizing.

“If only I could,” Caleb said, and Yasha recognized that look of resignation, the desperate love and admiration beneath, because that was how Jester was etched into her heart as well. They were a little alike then, her and Caleb. She imagined Jester between the demon and Caleb, reaching down to wrap a confident hand into his to heal him. She tried to imagine herself in the same position, and—couldn’t. Much easier to imagine making the blood go out rather than in, and it was only a matter of time before she forgot how to staunch the bleeding and only hurt someone worse when she touched them, wasn’t it?

She couldn’t— “What time is it?” she asked softly. His smile was tense and raw.

“Oh, time for our watch to be over, I think,” he said. “Would you wake Fjord up tonight?”

She didn’t argue, didn’t point out that it was usually Caleb who woke Fjord for watches. That kind of honesty was more Beau’s style than Yasha’s. It was all right for Caleb to avoid them all for a while, she thought, because she was inclined to do the same.

So for the second time that day, she reached over to touch Fjord’s shoulder, and for the second time that day jerked back as his eyes opened to look at her. “Time for watch,” she muttered, turning to find where her bedroll had been placed against Beau’s.

Fjord’s voice was scratchy from sleep. “Caleb asleep?” he asked. And he was—the moment he’d closed his book he’d crumpled like he was in the aftermath of a Haste. His face was right then smushed between his elbow and his little rock. He’d no doubt wake up with a bruise.

“I wanted to talk—I want to talk to you,” Fjord said. “Just for a little bit. I know you want to sleep.”

“It’s fine.” She turned back, made an effort to meet his eyes.

“I just—thank you. You saved my life today,” he said. And of all the things she expected him to say, it wasn’t that. “I’ve been wondering—when you heal someone, is it because of, your god? The Stormlord?”

She folded her arms, hugging her chest. “No. It’s something I’ve always been able to do.” Like patching up Zuala after a hunt—

Fjord’s face fell. “Oh. I thought…” Yasha said nothing into the silence, and Fjord seemed to take some heart from that to continue. “I’ve been thinking lately that of everything I can do, I still can’t do much more than try to pull someone out of the way, or stand in front of them when they’re in trouble. I felt—ha, I felt pretty useless today, to be honest.”

“You’re not useless. You found the anchor, and all those glyphs. You found the tunnel, and the bugbear.”

He waved his hand. “Caduceus could have done the same. Did. Or Caleb would have, if we asked him. Or Beau. And you know, those demons had me for a moment too—if Caleb’s fire hadn’t burned me again I would have been in the same boat as you. The point is…I’m glad you took the time. To rescue me. I wish I could do what you do. I wouldn’t half mind if I could be more like you.”

And there it was again, that look of admiration. This time directed at her.

She dug her fingers further into her biceps. “Thank you,” she said. She didn’t say be careful what you wish for. She didn’t say you don’t know how terrible I am. She didn’t say we’d be better off if you could do this instead of me. No, it wouldn’t do any good. So she took the memory of his expression and tucked it away in a place she wouldn’t keep seeing it. It was time to sleep now, and she didn’t want that face with the others to invade her dreams.

#critical role #cr spoilers #yasha #yasha nydoorin #cr fic #my fic #i love yashaaaaaaaaa #what I've been doing instead of calculus last night

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lewispandawrites · 6 years

Text

Something unexpected, Malec, 3153 words, T rated.

A birthday gift to a wonderful @enkelimagnus - inspired by her fic, Six of Swords

The bookstore was usually quiet and calm - it was one of those ‘hole in the world’ type of places - but people who would come there, came with purpose. Teenagers who only looked for school novels rarely visited the Reading Nook, but it still was a favourite place of many book lovers. They had many different sections, that were organised in an unusual way. Categories, such as ‘dragons’, ‘not-so-happy endings’, ‘lgbt history’, ‘animal characters’, ‘second life of a good book’ and ‘readers’ choice’ provided a different approach to finding a suitable book, and many people found it helpful. If anyone was lost, as to where look for a book they might enjoy, they could always ask a person sitting behind the counter.

Magnus loved working there. The smells of old and new books, mixed with a pot of coffee or tea always brewing in the back room, had become familiar and brought him comfort. During slower days, he could take out his painting supplies, and work on yet another deck of tarot cards to sell. Once in a while, when he wasn’t particularly inspired to paint, and no customer needed his attention, he would choose a book that had the most interesting description, and read - sometimes for hours to end. He also had a green light from the owner - who had rarely visited the place, due to his old age - to re-organise book categories, and the front display as he pleased. Magnus always made sure that something interesting and colorful was visible from the street, so more curious customers would come in. Just last week, he had finished yet another display on Harry Potter, as was his tradition for September.

The place was too small to host any meetings or book clubs, but it had a loveseat squeezed in between the window and an old, wooden bookcase. From time to time, a person or a couple would occupy it, reading or chatting quietly. Magnus had been a witness to people smiling like idiots, or shedding a few tears over a particularly good book. Sometimes, a customer might strike up a conversation with him - it usually happened when a person was looking for a book on a specific topic, but had no idea what to choose. Just last week, a teenager had come in, looking for a book on queer figures throughout history. Although, they had a section for that, they had had hard time finding a book that would be the best, and not cost crazy amount of money. Shyly, they had asked Magnus for advice, and the two had talked for over an hour - Magnus had shared his experience, as a bi man of color, and Remi had taught him about the local trans community in return. Magnus had pointed out a few books that might be helpful for Remi’s school paper, and suggested they would come and read them here, for free. He had brought in a chair from the back room, placed it next to the counter, and offered to share the space, so Remi could take notes on their laptop. After finishing their essay, Remi had sent it to Magnus, and had promised to share what grade they got on it. The encounter still warmed Magnus’ heart, every time he thought about it.

A man had entered the bookstore an hour ago. Magnus had greeted him but had kept to himself, seeing the determined look on his face. He had clearly known why he had come here. But, as the minutes had passed, and the man had kept browsing, he had started to look more and more lost.

Carefully, Magnus had placed his brush in the cup, then approached the man.

“Can I help you with anything?” Magnus asked.

“No, I’m afraid you can’t.” The stranger looked sad. Maybe he had been looking for a specific book, but it hadn’t been there? It had happened before.

“If you are after a specific title, I can see if I could order it for you?” Magnus suggested. It might take a few days, for the book to arrive, but at least the man would get it. The warehouse they got all their titles from was very well-stocked, and Magnus knew an additional bookstore owner or two, in case the book would turn out to be exceptionally rare.

Magnus got a smile in return, but one that didn’t reach stranger’s eyes. “Thank you, but I’m not looking for a specific book. I’m no longer sure, if I’m looking for a book at all.” There was a deep frown on man’s face, and he was hunched forward, looking tired. From up close, Magnus could see the dark circles under his eyes. For some reason, he didn’t want to let the man walk out right away.

“How about I make you something warm to drink, and you tell me more about what brought you here? I’m sure we can figure something out.” Magnus suggested. The other man hesitated, but eventually nodded, and took the chair that had been occupied by Remi last week. “Tea or coffee?” Magnus asked.

“Tea, please.” The man replied. Magnus had left him by the counter, and went to the back room, to boil some water. He took two mismatched mugs, and added a spoonful of his favourite green tea to each, then waiter for the water to be ready.

Not long after, he had emerged with two steaming mugs. “Be careful!” He warned his companion, as he placed a mug in front of him.”It’s still too hot to drink. And you may want to wait until the leaves will sink to the bottom.” The man nodded again, thanking him silently for the beverage.

“Magnus.” Magnus offered his name, as he sat down. He thought it was a polite thing to do, and a good conversation starter.

“Alec. Alexander.” his companion replied, watching the steam curl over the rim of his mug.

“Alexander. What brought you here?” Magnus asked, and leaned back in his chair. He wanted to give the other more space to breath and think, since he looked to be troubled by his thoughts. Something important must have had convinced him to come.

“I’m an art student.” Alec said after a moment. The frown was still on his face, as if it was a permanent fixture to his features. “We have an assignment. To create something using materials, that had already been used. Many people go for plastic bottles, or wine corks. T-shirts, pants... My friend is actually using her old pencils and crayons.” His sister, Clary, had suggested to break a few ceramics, but he wasn’t feeling that.

He called Clary his younger sister, but, in reality, they weren’t blood related. They had become inseparable, though, from the moment Luke and Maryse had first introduced them to one another, and grew up together under one roof, sharing a wall.

She had followed into his footsteps, claiming it had been him and not her biological mother who had inspired her to pursue art, and applied to the same art school one year after him. They both lived separately - Clary had a studio apartment, while Alec lived in a three-bedroom flat, with Clary’s girlfriend. It was the most bizarre combination, but the two had only been together for a few months. Maia spent most of her time at Clary’s, which gave Alec plenty of alone time, to work on his projects in the spare room. But he had been planning to ask Clary and Maia, whether or not they would want to switch apartments - they had been going pretty steady, even in such short amount of time, and Alec didn’t mind living alone, as long as he would have space to work. And he knew that Clary’s studio apartment was good for that.

It warmed his heart to see his little sister and his roommate so happy and in love, and he would do anything to support their relationship. In his eyes, those two were true relationship goals, alongside mom and his step-dad.

“I thought about using books.” Alec continued. “Wanted to cut out the letters, then layer the pages to show how our words turn into incomprehensible gibberish. How being unable to talk is the disease that kills our relationships with other people slowly, and then kills us from inside, when we are unable to express our needs and wants. We become numb, bland and detached from the world, going for the cheap thrills that promise us to fill the void inside, one we are unable to describe.” During his little speech, Alec had begun to gesture widely, and Magnus had found it adorable. What the other man was saying wasn’t anything new to him - he had understood his thoughts and concerns fully. Many writers had written about similar things. Yet, Magnus liked the idea to use this as a message behind a new piece of art - it was an old lesson, but one worth teaching again. “Or just stick to the first part, I guess. Just the gibberish.”

“And you didn’t find any of the books suitable?” Magnus asked, after carefully taking a sip of his tea. It could use a moment of two longer to brew, so he put the mug down.

“I guess I wasn’t going for any specific book. Just books in general.” Alec shrugged. “But…” he started, then grew quiet. They both just sat there, in silence that wasn’t uncomfortable, drinking the tea slowly.

Magnus was about to ask whether Alec would enjoy a homemade cookie, when the other spoke again. “I just can’t bring myself to destroy any of those books. Neither new, nor old. There’s just...so much love. It’s clear someone is taking care of them.” Their eyes finally met over the counter, and Magnus was struck by the sincerity and rawness in Alec’s eyes. Here sat a man, who was unable to destroy a thing, that had been an object of someone’s love. It was so pure and honest, that Magnus didn’t know what to say.

“I know it sounds stupid.” Alec said, and broke the eye contact. “But I just...can’t. Maybe if I psych myself up. But not today.”

Magnus reached over the counter, and placed his hand on Alec’s forearm in - what he hoped was - a comforting gesture.

“There is nothing bad about it. You shouldn’t be ashamed of not wanting to destroy something.” Magnus told Alec, and the other man met his gaze again. “Some of those books had lived wonderful lives, and have an additional story to tell. And some had been printed less than 6 months ago. But, they have all been carefully selected, so they would have something to offer to their future reader. I actually think it’s beautiful that you can see that.”

“It’s not only that. It is clear to me how someone had been taking care of them. How much love has been put into keeping them in a good shape, so they can be read by someone one day. I assume you were one of those people.” Alec added. The frown he had been sporting, had somehow smoothed during their conversation. “They are all carefully arranged, and there is no speck of dust on them.”

Magnus could feel himself smile widely, at the praise. No one had ever given him a similar compliment, but it had touched him deeply. “Thank you. I do love to work here.”

Alec’s eyes traveled from Magnus’ face, to the surface of the counter, and his eyes had finally fallen upon the art supplies. “Are you an artist as well? May I see it?” He pointed towards the tarot card. Alec understood that the projects, and the process of creation, could be very intimate and personal, so he had wanted to ask before looking at Magnus’ art.

“Of course.” They both stood up from their chairs, to walk up to the opposite end of the counter. Alec leaned down, to have a closer look at the detailed painting. “What is it?” The small painting reminded him vaguely of something, but he had no idea what it was. Besides, this was Magnus’ project - he probably knew the best. Probably, since the results could be tricky, and sometimes things created in the process made no sense to the artists themselves.

“It’s a tarot card. The Moon.” The bright gold of the Moon was a stark contrast against the dark hues of blue and purple. Alec could vaguely make out more shapes in the dark background - two high towers, two dogs, and a lobster. “This is my take on it, but I wanted to stay within the original design. Can you see a path in the middle?” Alec’s eyes were drawn to a thin line, and he nodded, hoping that he had found the right element. “This is the path that we walk. The dog and the wolf.” Magnus pointed out to two figures, that Alec had previously mistaken for two dogs. “symbolise our animalistic nature. One is tame and civilised, like a dog, and one is wild and feral, like a wolf. The two towers in the background” They were dark, barely floodlit by the Moon. “represent the forces of good and evil. They look exactly the same, to show how difficult it can be to distinguish between those two, in our everyday life. We walk a difficult path.” Magnus traced the middle line with his finger. “between wild and tame, between good and evil, between conscious and unconscious. The pond represents a subconscious mind, and the crawfish” Magnus pointed out the lobster-like animal. “is the early stages of consciousness. The Moon, on the other hand, is the symbol of unconsciousness. This card is the essence of dual nature, and rules the astrological Pisces. Sorry, I’m probably rambling.” Magnus said, blushing slightly.

“No! No, you’re not.” Alec replied. “This is really interesting. I had never seen a tarot card in my life.” Alec admitted. “I know nothing about them. But it’s beautiful. All the detailed work, and the meaning behind it...it’s beautiful.”

Magnus blinked, surprised. “Most people would find it weird or tacky. Tarot readings, magic things and such.” He rolled his eyes at his own words, but deep down he remembered well how much the reality could hurt. “You are a one big surprise, Alexander.”

“A good one, I hope.” Came a quiet reply.

Magnus just rounded the counter, and reached for Alec’s hand, to pull him somewhere. “I may have a few things that could interest you.” He led them to a narrow hallway, that had bookshelves on both sides. There was barely any space for the two of them to fit, without touching each other. Magnus kept whispering under his nose, quiet enough for Alec to be unable to hear, as he scanned the tall bookshelf.

Eventually, Magnus stood up on his toes to be able to reach a thick volume. “Here.” He dusted off the cover, just in case, then handed the book to Alec. It felt heavy, and the only decoration on the red cover were thick, black letters.

“To my Alice. On how to find yourself.” Alec read the title aloud, then looked up from the book.

“I know, it’s very unusual.” Magnus glanced at the cover again. “It had been brought here, a few years ago, by a person who had found it in their attic. He had no idea who Alice was, and the author isn’t mentioned anywhere, but it looks to be a collection of letters, written on a typewriter. I know the volume isn’t exactly college-student friendly. Especially when you are busy. But I have read a few letters, and I seriously recommend them. Maybe it’s not a conventional way to deal with artist block, but I really hope it can help you.”

Alec just looked at him, silent.

“I could just find some books on sculpture or photography for you? Or about the zero waste movement?” Maybe he had taken it too far. He had called whatever state Alec had been in an ‘artist block’, and suggested he read what looked to be an old coaching book. Great. But he had thought they had something...deeper going between them. Apparently, he had been the only one who had felt it. “Look, I’m sorry if I overstepped some boundaries…”

“No.” Alec cut in, his voice barely above the whisper. “This is a great suggestion. I hope it can truly get me unstuck.”

And they just stood there, for what felt like eternity, eyes locked together. One artist bearing their soul to the other. It was always a magical moment, full of vulnerability and trust, but this time, it felt like something more. A ‘Thank you for understanding.’, on both sides. ‘Thank you for no laughing at me.’

Neither of them had realised, when they had gotten closer, but suddenly their faces were only inches apart.

Alec was the one to break the silence.

“Can I kiss you?”

Magnus searched his face for something, anything - he wanted to say yes, but didn’t know id they wanted the same thing. For him, one kiss wouldn’t be enough. He wanted to get to know Alec better, to go out with him, find out his favorite sitcom, and his stance on dog versus cat. He wanted to learn, and learn, until there will be no new informations.

He wanted more.

“Or I could take you out first? If this is what you want, that is. You may say no to both things. Sorry.” Alec was already backing away from him, and Magnus couldn’t afford to lose that opportunity.

“Yes, kiss me. And I know a perfect place for the first date.”

Alec’s blinding smile was the last thing Magnus had seen before closing his eyes. The other man kissed the same way he had interacted with Magnus - at first, shy. Just a brush of lips. Then another, and another, until their lips stayed pressed together. Neither of them knew who had started moving their lips again, but they kept kissing, not being able to pull apart. Magnus could feel Alec’s teeth grazing his bottom lip, before the man grabbed onto his vest, and made a move to push him back against the bookshelf.

Before Magnus’ back could collide with anything, Alec broke the kiss. Magnus was very aware of the wall of books behind him, and wished Alec could finish what he had started - an image of being pressed against a bookshelf, with Alec pinning his body there while they kissed, wasn’t exactly an unpleasant one. But he understood it was neither time nor place for such things.

Magnus leaned in, to steal one more kiss, before he covered Alec’s hands with his own. “Your tea should still be warm. Want to finish our drinks, before we exchange numbers?”

Magnus didn’t believe Alec’ smile could get any wider, but here he was, proving him wrong. “I’d love to.”

#malec fic #malec fanfiction #malec #shadowhunters fic #shadowhunters

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littleredroseonthevalley · 6 years

Text

Who Do I Want To Be?

Summary: After Emily discovers Alpha Theta Mu’s dirtiest secrets, Nathan considers self-esteem and self-improvement.

Rating: T - Content not suitable for children. Suitable for teens, 13 years and older, with minor suggestive adult themes.

Mentions of drug and alcohol abuse. Reader discretion is advised.

Words: 2582

Notes: A few years ago, I read this fanfiction on another fandom and it resonated deeply within me. Tonight (as in, two weeks ago, I’m writting from the past), with a few beers in me, I thought how well it would give an alternate ending to the whole Nathan Debacle in TJ.

Here’s the results of my drunk wonderings.

I would also like to anounce I’ll be posting the next chapter for An Opera on Separation, starting Friday. Keep tuned!

Who did I want to be?

Well, certainly not the person I was right now.

Usually, I felt pretty good about the way I am. There was nothing not to like, I was handsome, young, rich and charismatic. I wasn’t good, though, good in the way you hear on the phrase ‘good samaritan’.

I never thought it to be something bad, in fact, I took a deal of pride on it, but I then realized I was also not liked because of it. I wasn’t respected. Not like Emily was.

This is what all boils down to, right? The heart of my problem, Emily Harper, the girl who had made it impossible even to appreciate the person I currently was. I hated myself because of her.

What's worse was I couldn't even bring myself to drown my sorrows in the sweet high of the combination between drugs, alcohol and adrenaline I had been using for so long to fight the ennui.

The mere thought of it disgusted me.

On a second thought, that was what all boils down to, after all. If I wasn’t feeling bored about life itself, I wouldn’t have joined Alpha Theta Mu, and by not joining, I wouldn’t take part on that stupid ‘inner-circle challenge’ for the presidency. I wouldn’t have crashed into Tyler’s car and I wouldn’t even have met Emily in the first place.

Ennui it is.

So I had nothing better to do than sit there and look at some stupid picture of me and a trashy hunk of metal 99-percenters call a car. A blasted piece of damning evidence Beau and Kassidy held to my head that could single-handedly ruin my life.

In that moment, I think about how I managed to mess just about every good thing in my life up. I was perfectly happy with my life before she barged in, screwed up as it was. I feel like I could hate her for it, to hold her responsible for the loss of my peace of mind. To demand a derestrict return to the status quo.

However, the fact is, I didn't want that life back.

Somewhere between all of her concerns about her friends and family, I had started to feel guilty about how I had shut the people in my life out. I don't think I had spoken to either of my parents in at least two months.

Nathan, Snr and Lois Sterling were awful people, I can’t deny, but my father cares marginally about me.

He used to take interest on my academic life back in the day I attended preparatory academies, and he does still send emails asking me about my life. Even if I don’t respond to them.

He still talked to me during whatever meal we shared. Sure, most of the time it was just uncomfortable small talk about the weather or he was just informing me that he and my mother would be going away somewhere or another, but I realized he did care. Somewhat.

When Emily told me about her home life, that disgusting notion of ma-and-pa, dog and white picket fence, I admit I felt jealous. There wasn’t nothing wrong with that girl, I couldn’t identify anything that made her less of a porcelain doll, loved and adored by all, and more of a flawed human like the rest of us.

That rage fuelled my decision to destroy it all, to hit her and make her bleed, just to prove to the world that yes, Emily Harper was a human being like the rest of us. I wanted to see her cry.

That feeling, that reasoning, dictated every action I took so far that pertained her or any of her friends. Turns out, I was approaching the problem the wrong way. I wasn’t supposed to destroy it, I should feel inspired to make something out of myself. That was the beauty of it, that it was what other people saw in her, what I couldn’t see until just now.

So, we return to the million-dollar question: who did I want to be?

A guy who could muster up the courage to speak to his father for the first time in months, for one. I would also like to stop my destructive behaviour and find healthier ways to occupy my time. Well, no problem there for the moment, like I said, the mere thought of it seemed disgusting to me now.

I should probably work on getting myself some decent friends too, because I was pretty sure I hadn’t any left. If I ever had one. I only ever hung out with the Alphas. I had been doing that for a while, I guess.

Yet another thing that changed when I met Emily. She made me want so much more than what the likes of Beau offered, and helped me realize that I didn't belong with those people. I was so sick and tired of pretending to be as superficial as they were.

I’m not sure where was exactly my place, because I’m sure I also didn't belong with the majority of the students at Hartfeld. Most of Emily’s friends were her suitemates on her freshman year, and that propelled me to remember what kind of people were mine.

There was this football player, I remember well. The two of us weren’t friends, per se, but we were amicable. Perhaps because we recognized each other as horrible people? We did manipulate one of the girls that lived with us to assume all domestic work. Back in school I was no better, I had that Sex God thing going on for me and I took more advantage than I should.

So where did I belong?

As cliché as it may sound, I want to say with Emily. Because she was the only person I ever felt connected to. So connected I couldn't keep my hands off of her. Nothing was going to stop me from going after that girl.

Except I screwed it all up.

That's probably the thing I wanted to be most of all, someone worthy of Emily. Clearly, I wasn't. I just brought her into my messed up world and let her destroy herself in the process. I cannot believe I was that much of a jerk. What was I supposed to do about it now?

For starters, it might help if I, instead of just sitting there, whining about everything I did wrong, I just go out there and try to mend the burnt bridges. It wasn't going to magically fix everything but I owed myself to at least try.

Not about to lose the momentum of my decisiveness, and not to think about all the ways it could go horribly wrong, I marched haughtily across campus to her apartment building.

Shortly, I was standing in front of the number 20, sweating out of nerves like a kid on a spelling bee. Mustering up all of the courage I had left, I knocked three times, not more, not less on Emily's door.

I was secretly hoping Zack was the one to open the door and send me away before I could do any more damage than I had already done. He would probably rather kill me with a kitchen knife than let me talk to his beloved roommate.

My petty hopes were dashed when Emily opened the door herself. Or not, really, since as soon as she realized it was me, she then slammed it right back in my face.

I guess I should have expected her to do something like that. God knows I deserve it.

I just knocked on the door again, because what else was there to be done? I was going to argue my case, and I did it by saying, "Emily, please open the door. I'd like to apologize."

I was rather surprised she opened the door after that, I had expected her to ignore me much longer than that. Perhaps she would prefer to see me squirm, instead of just listening to it, or to avoid a scandal with her neighbours. Or even because she was afraid I would go public with that video of Beau’s.

Be as it may, she opened and she was about to speak. "Well, by all means, go for it." She bit at me.

Not that much of a good start, but at least we’re talking, right?

"I'm extremely sorry about what I did.” I said, throwing the best lost puppy look I could muster. “I'm sorry I led you on a stupid, rigged treasure hunt, I’m sorry for letting the Alphas do what they did to you…”

I could not finish my apology before she cut me off. "Speaking of that band of sociopaths of yours, why don't you just go back to them?" She said as she slammed the door in my face again.

She should not try to underestimate my intelligence, though, as this time however, I was prepared and my foot prevented the door from closing completely. Therefore, she had no choice but to look at me while I said, "I’m quitting Alpha Theta Mu." When she didn't respond, I added, "I'm sorry I got you into that mess. I'm sorry I crashed into Tyler, I’m sorry for all the things I did to your friends. I'm so unbelievably sorry for what you lost because of me."

She looked at me for a long time and finally she asked me in a low voice, as if she was afraid to hear the answer. "Why did you sleep with me? Why did you even date me? You could’ve distracted me with something else, with anything else. This was beyond cruel. I thought we were more than that."

Say what you want, but Emily Harper knew how to, and wasn’t afraid of, going straight for the neck. I could have said it was the Alphas, or because she was there for the taking or something else but I decided against that and told her the truth, knowing it probably wasn't going to do me any good.

"We were more than that.” I admit. “I've never had feelings for someone like I have for you. I swear.”

She looked at me in confusion and asked the inevitable question, why did I do it, then?

“I had heard of you before we met at that fundraiser. Everybody did, thanks to that ridiculous award Powell got you.” I couldn’t help but let some of my bitterness arise at that sentence. “You were perfect, Emily. You were loved and adored by all, and it annoyed me beyond anything I can say.”

She scoffed like she thought I was an idiot. I really was, so I guess I can’t fault her for it.

“I’m not perfect.” She said, pointing out the obvious. “I never thought so, and I never said so.”

I sighed. “Indeed, you never did, but everyone thought you were Jesus second coming. It was tiring, especially for someone like me. I wanted to be perfect, and above it all, I wanted to be loved. No one ever cared for me, you know? My parents are dicks, I never had friends like yours. I wanted your life for myself, and if I couldn’t get it, I would destroy it.

“The thing is,” I continued. “I came to find out there was a reason why you were so beloved, and why everybody just kind of stuck up with me to get something out of me. I am just a petty, spoiled monster with way too much time and money in my hands, while you… You might not be perfect, but you’re legitimately nice, you seemed to care about me. I guess I started to like that somewhere along the line. That’s why I slept with you.”

“I did care about you, Nathan.” She said, earnest. “Why didn’t you stopped it all? Why didn’t you just came clean instead of forcing me to find out on my own?”

"You were obviously never going to forgive me anyway.” I shrugged, trying to conceal the pain I felt over it. “It didn't really matter, anyways, I had already hit Tyler’s car, Ortega's record was already ruined, Davenport was already eliminated from her graduate program. I didn’t think it would do any good.”

"So why are you here then?" Emily points out.

"I'm here because I'm trying to be a better person.” I admitted, with my own dose of earnestness. “I just wanted to apologize for what I did to you. It wasn't right. I know peer pressure and jealousy are lame excuses but I don't know what else to say. I swear to you, that wasn't me. I am a better person than that. I just have to start living in the real world again. I'm sorry. I really am."

"Well, you were wrong.” She says, with a glint of something on her eye, I couldn’t tell if it was rage or sadness. Perhaps both. “You were wrong to think you shouldn’t have come clean. Have you ever considered that maybe there's a reason I kept all those secrets from my friends? Even when I could see they were suffering for it?”

“I just assumed it was because you didn’t want to tip Beau off, like I told you.” I said, trying to avoid looking into her eyes.

“No. I did it because I thought it was important to you, too. That I was protecting you.” She says, and I could almost feel the accusing finger on my chest. “I felt this pull towards you as if we had a deeper connection I couldn't run from. I wanted a relationship like that. I didn't care if I had to ruin my life for you, I did it without question. I ruined all my friends’ lives because I was protecting you."

"And you have no idea how much I regret that. If I could go back and change it, I would.” I said, meaning every word.

She sighed, deeply. "I believe you."

I smiled and raised my eyes to meet hers. "So what are you saying?"

"I'm saying our timing was bad.” Emily breathed out, weary. “We shouldn't have been together in the first place. Not like that. Neither of us were ready to have the relationship we should have had."

"So you forgive me?" I tentatively ask.

“No.” She says firmly, and my heart feels like it’s being twisted. “But I will give you the chance to earn it. You’ll go to the Dean’s office and say everything you’ve done and you’re going to accept whatever punishment he deems fit gracefully. You’ll also going to apologise to all my friends. Then, and only then, I’ll forgive you.”

I was probably grinning like a retard. I could do that, I certainly could, it was within my reach, and then Emily would forgive me.

"Good.” I nodded, smiling. “Because I love you. I'm going to do whatever it takes to win you back. We may not have been ready for it then, but we are now. I'm going to fight for you."

"You want to win me back? Be less of a dick this time.”

As she whispered those last words, she stepped onto the hallway and crashed her lips into mine. I definitely wasn't expecting that but having her in my arms again was the best feeling in the world.

I would never let her go again.

I kissed her as if she was the last breath I would ever breathe.

Taglist: @alicars; @boneandfur; @cora-nova; @choicesfannatalie; @emerald-bijou; @kennaxval; @liamxs-world; @lizeboredom; @mfackenthal; @moodygrip; @mrsdrakewalkerblog; @radiantrosemary; @topsyturvy-dream

#the junior #nathan sterling

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princessofthedarkrealm · 6 years

Text

Dark Phoenix Rising- Chapter 10

“So where was you and Roman’s first date?” “At the Rocket. It’s a diner.” “How big is Derry?” You smiled. You loved how curious Jake was. At least it was keeping your mind off of your romantic life and the physical pain you were in. Your foot crunched on another stick. Even if you and Jake hadn’t been talking, if Pennywise or Walter were still around, just your loud footsteps would give you away. “It’s pretty small. And very old fashioned. You probably wouldn’t like it if you’re so used to modern technology and a big city. Have you ever walked on the Brooklyn Bridge?” “Yeah. I’ve been there. Have you?” You nodded. “Walter took me there. It’s very noisy but I love the view.”

Jake stopped short, his mouth gaping open. “Walter took you on a date?”

“Well I uh…I wouldn’t really call it that. We went to see about the portal and then he bought me a hotdog. If bought is the word you want to use.” You rolled your eyes. “He’s something else, yeah. Oh, and he took me to one of his hideouts. I didn’t see how to get there though. He blinded me.”

“What?!” Roland’s hand was on your arm in a nanosecond. “Walter did what?”

Oh shit. “Not really. He just…” You waved your hand in front of your eyes, “he put some kind of mist over my eyes. It was an illusion. Still scary though.”

You could practically see Roland’s jaw clench. You were actually nervous. Your group had been walking through the woods for a while now and Roland had asked you nothing about your time with Walter at all.

“Roland, if there’s something you want to say, please do so. You know I’m not good with beating around the bush.” You shifted your weight to one foot.

Roland opened his mouth to speak and then glanced over at Jake. Poor boy. He was so in the dark about what all had happened the last couple of weeks. He hadn’t even asked you about your pregnancy. And you hoped he never would.

“I’m just worried about you,” Roland finally answered.

You gave him a tired smile. “You and me both.”

Later that afternoon, a thick mist started to creep in.

“You know, this is kind of like on the Wizard of Oz when they get to the Wicked Witch’s forest,” you idly commented.

“You think flying monkeys are going to come out?” Jake shot you a half grin.

“I take it that’s another reference from your world,” Roland commented.

You could hear a hint of sadness in his voice. Was he jealous that you had someone to talk to about your own culture now?

You sighed. “Not monkeys, no. I don’t know what to expect. That’s what scares me.”

“You know I’m not going to let anything happen to you?” Roland raised an eyebrow at you.

You smiled. “I know. I just wished I knew what-”

Roland put out his arm to stop you.

“What is it?”

Roland pulled out one of his pistols. “I don’t know.”

Then you heard it. A loud rustling noise coming from the hill to your left. Part of you wanted to summon your magic just to be ready. Then all was quiet.

“If that is who I think it is…” you muttered with a scowl.

“Then he’s going to have a fight on his hands,” Roland finished.

Jake shot you and Roland a worried glance. “W-who do you think it is? Walter? Pennywise?”

“My guess is on Pennywise. Stay alert,” you told Jake.

You had told Jake about your mate. Or at least somewhat. You had said he didn’t like children. Which he didn’t, depending on how you looked at it.

The three of you went further into the woods without any issues. Your nerves were becoming more wound by the minute though. You wanted to scream at whoever was watching you to come out. Finally at some point, you were coming around a bend in a group of trees. Roland pulled Jake back. He motioned for the two of you to get down.

“What’s-”

Roland put his finger over his mouth for you to hush. He pointed through the brush. You looked around until you saw it. Taheen. Several of them. They were going in the opposite direction. They hadn’t seen your group.

“What are they?” Jake asked quietly.

“Taheen. Walter’s minions. We need to be more careful,” Roland responded.

Your heart started pounding. Were they looking for you or Jake? You hated not knowing. If you would know for sure it was you, you would go with them in a heartbeat. But would you? Could you do that to Roland? You glanced over at him and saw him watching you. You stood. Either way, you weren’t afraid. If the Taheen were here for Jake and they tried to attack, you and Roland could easily pick them off. You started to take off, but Roland grabbed your wrist.

He stood. “I need to talk to you.”

You shifted your posture. “Alright.”

“Stay close,” Roland told Jake.

Roland led you off a little ways. “You know I’ve been trying my best not to ask anything. But since you got back,” Roland sighed, “you haven’t been yourself.”

You snorted. “I’m growing wings, Roland. That’s not normal for anyone.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Well obviously I don’t,” you retorted. “I’ve been through hell these last couple of weeks, Roland.” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“I know that.” He gently grabbed both of your arms right above your elbows and looked you square in the face. “Whatever Walter has done to you…you don’t have to be ashamed. Let me help you.”

You lowered your gaze with a sigh. So that was it. He thought Walter had forced himself on you while you were with him.

“I swear to you, Y/N…I will do everything in my power to stop him. He won’t hurt you again.”

“Walter has never hurt me, Roland.” Now it was your turn to meet his gaze. “Don’t you get it? I mean, yes, he may have in the beginning. On that one night. But Pennywise has done exponentially worse.” You pulled yourself out of Roland’s grasp. “If anything Walter saved me from that. And he saved me again. Two days ago. I would be dead, Roland, if it wasn’t for him.”

Roland scowled at you.

“You know it’s true. It has been hell for me not knowing what was going on with you. And I knew you had to be worried sick about me. I’m sorry for that. Walter was going to let me see you. Not in person, but he said he had a way to let me see that you were alright. The only reason why he didn’t was because of everything that came up with Jake. And now Walter may or may not be looking for him. Or the Taheen could be looking for me. I don’t know.” You shrugged both shoulders. “Walter never hurt me, Roland. These last couple of days, he didn’t…” you shook your head, “he didn’t hurt me. In any way. We shared a…” you shifted from one foot to the other, “we shared his bed together. Last night. But no sex. At all. He took care of me. And if I’ve been,” another sigh, “if I’ve been acting weird, it’s because I feel lost without him. I feel…vulnerable. And now I’m hurting and there’s…” You scrunched your face up as a wave of emotion rushed through you. “There’s nothing that I can do about it. I just feel so lost.”

The tears fell now. You put your hand over your mouth. You heard someone coming and you and Roland both glanced in that direction. It was Jake.

“Uh…guys…you might want to see this.” He pointed back in the direction he had just come from.

You quickly wiped your tears and without giving Roland another glance, followed Jake. You didn’t see anything at first that would warrant attention, but as soon as Jake pointed upwards, your mouth fell open.

It was a tall, metal sign, like you would see at a carnival. But it wasn’t the presence of the sign that made you stare in shock. It was the wording on it. One word.

PENNYWISE

Several emotions warred inside you—awe, fear, joy, confusion. Pennywise had been to Mid-world. And from the looks of it…

He’d had his own amusement park.

You and Jake walked underneath the sign. A large Ferris wheel came into view. It was even more dilapidated than the sign. Images flashed through your mind of when Roman had taken you for your date with him underneath the Neibolt house.

The date that had been a lie.

Pennywise was the master of creating illusions, but this…to actually see that he had at some point existed in another realm…somehow that, more than anything else that you had seen and experienced with him in the last several months, brought it home for you.

Pennywise was an alien. He was a demonic, child eating alien. How old was he even? Where did he even come from? Was it Mid-world? Had this really been his amusement park or was it just where he had gotten that particular persona from?

You shook your head. “I can’t believe this. Pennywise has been to Mid-world. Why hasn’t he told me?”

“Probably for the same reason he didn’t tell you a lot of things,” came Roland’s terse answer.

“Yeah, but this…” you pointed back at the sign. “He could have told me this. I know he’s not even really a clown. He could have-” You stopped when a bout of nausea flared up. You put your hand on your stomach and rubbed it.

“You ok?” Jake asked you.

You nodded. “It’s just nausea. I get that sometimes.”

“From the baby?”

You regarded his now downtrodden face. You smiled at him. “I’m okay yeah. My baby’s gonna be strong. But the thing is…so am I.”

“That you are, my dear.”

You whirled around. Pennywise was standing just feet away from you.

“Penny,” you breathed.

“What’s wrong, dearest?” He smiled at you. It gave you the chills, and not one of pleasure either. “Aren’t you going to give me a hug?”

He stepped towards you but both you and Jake backed up. Roland came forward, one of his guns pointed at the clown’s head.

“You just can’t leave her alone, can you?” Roland asked.

“I hear congratulations are in order,” Pennywise told you.

“What are you talking about?” you snapped.

“Oh you haven’t told him?” Pennywise’s mouth fell open into an ‘o’ as he turned his gaze towards Roland.

“Told him what, Pennywise? Spit it out!”

“Your new beau.” Pennywise’s yellow gaze was now completely on you. “Your new mate.”

His cherry red mouth was twisted in a sneer. And the right side of his face was all jacked up. Like someone had poured acid on it. Had you done that? Or had it been Walter?

“Penny…you know things weren’t working out between us.”

“And so you bedded him! You bedded him like the whore you are!” Pennywise screeched.

“And what if I did? Why should you care?” you hollered back. “You don’t care if I fuck half the men in Mid-world so long as I’m yours, that I belong to you! Well I’m sick of belonging to you, Pennywise!” Your hands were at your side, balled into fists. “So Walter told you we’re sleeping together, did he? Did he tell you about my sleep?” You pointed at yourself. “Did he tell you that he couldn’t wake me up this morning?” You took a few steps toward him. “Is that what you want? For me to sleep with you instead? A deep, dark sleep from which there is no waking? Until I’ve lost everything?” You snarled that last word. “I am PREGNANT! What do you think that’s going to do to me? To me and Walter’s baby?”

You shook your head slowly as angry tears obscured your vision. “All I wanted was your love,” you said in a small voice.

“Deny him.”

Your eyes widened. Walter! Was he watching you right now?

“Deny him, my love. It is the only way you will be free from him.”

“I can’t do this anymore, Pennywise. And I won’t.” You took a few steps closer to him. “I deny you. By all that is good and right in this universe, I deny you.”

Pennywise’s eyes turned blood red. “Deny me? You will deny yourself as well. You will cease to exist.”

Your blood ran cold. Was this it then? Were you to die right here? After all you had been through, did it really matter anymore? You glanced around. If you were going to die, then you might as well take him with you. Your eyes landed on a pile of crumpled up long, skinny pieces of metal. You didn’t know what it had once been. You didn’t care. You made your hand into a fist behind you.

And you concentrated.

“And if I die, then so be it.” The tears started to fall. “But at least I will be free of you.”

You straightened your posture. “I, Y/N, Guardian of the Dark Tower, deny you Pennywise.” You felt a pointed scrap of metal form in your fist. “I deny your claim on me.”

Pennywise snarled.

“I deny your claim on my soul.”

You clasped the metal so tightly, you felt it cut into your palm.

“I deny your claim on my life.”

You were crying so much now that you couldn’t see. But you didn’t have to. You knew exactly where Pennywise’s heart was.

Because it didn’t exist.

“I love you.”

With an inhuman screech, you lunged. Pennywise was faster. He leapt on you and at the same instant, you heard a gunshot. You landed hard on your back.

“AAAHHHHHH!!”

It felt like two knives had gone through your back. Pennywise had crushed you against the ground. His mouth was contorted. You felt something wet spraying the front of your nightgown. Finally Pennywise staggered off of you.

The metal was sticking out of his chest.

You couldn’t move. Your entire back was in agony. You watched Pennywise grab at the piece of metal. He started to pull it out. You heard Roland cock his gun. Saw him point it at Pennywise.

You laid back on the ground. Stared straight up at the mist obscured trees.

BANG!

Me: *hides behind Walter* save me!

Walter: You asked for this, sweetheart.

Me: Yeah but they had to have known that something like this would eventually happen.

@booklover2929 @grotesquegabby @allkundsofwrong @mummerthemimo @tomuchofaclownlover @pinoflicious

#dark tower #dark tower fanfiction #pennywise x reader #roland deschain #jake chambers

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leisurelypanda · 6 years

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Steve walked into the school building on Friday feeling tired as hell. He hadn’t been sleeping well the past few days. He couldn’t stop wondering just how long they were going to last, if he could ever live up to the shame of failing his promise to Thor’s father. He should never have entered that foolish agreement. Being with Thor for a whole year… hell they had barely been together for four months! How exactly was he going to make it to a full year especially when Thor would be leaving for the summer?

Maybe I should just call it quits now, Steve said. Cut my losses before I’m in it too deep.

He needed advice. The problem was that he wasn’t going to see his counselor this week at all. He wasn’t scheduled to see him again until next week, as usual. And he didn’t feel like talking about it to his mom. She seemed happier lately, he didn’t want to ruin the mood by getting her down with his relationship troubles. And he really didn’t want to talk about it with Thor. God knew he could be clingy and he was trying to work on that.

Somehow, he found himself outside of Ms. Foster’s classroom. The room was empty except for her. She was setting up a lab of some sort for her first period physics class. Regular physics, not the AP physics he had with her at the end of the day. He decided to just go for it. He knocked softly on the door.

She turned around and smiled at him. “Steve, how are you? You’re a little early for class, I’m afraid,” she said.

“I… wanted to ask you something,” he said.

“About physics or… something else?” she replied, growing serious.

“Something else. Personal,” he replied. She nodded.

“Help me set these up,” she replied. He set his backpack down at her desk and grabbed some materials to help her out. “So, what seems to be the problem?”

He told her about his concerns with Thor. How he was afraid about how long their relationship would last, about how his father was completely against the idea, how he wondered if it was just his anxiety talking or if he really should be concerned.

“You know,” she said with a slight smile. “If this was a story that deal you made with his father would probably come back to bite you in the butt.”

He chuckled. “That would be just my luck,” he said. “Me and my big mouth.”

“It will be fine, Steve,” she said, looking him in the eye.

“How do you know?” he asked.

“Honey, you may have forgotten, but I’m the faculty adviser for the GSA,” she said pointedly. “And I happened to assign you as lab partners. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. Frankly, if you two weren’t the best in the class I would have split you up back in October.”

Steve blushed as he remembered the situation with that other student who had tried to get them to stop kissing after school let out. Then he thought about her words.

“We’re the best in the class?” he asked. She gave him a look and winked.

“You didn’t hear that from me,” she said. He chuckled at that. “Anyway, I see a lot of love struck young couples here. All part of the whole teacher gig. Most of them stop looking at each other the way you two do past the first month or so. A few make it to three months. You two have been together for four. Still early, admittedly, but still.”

“So what should I do about it?” he asked, helping her to set up the last of the stations.

“Well, I’m not exactly an expert on love,” she replied. “I just teach physics. But if I were to guess, I would suggest talking to him.”

“Great,” he drawled. She laughed at that and toasted with her traveler’s mug.

“It doesn’t have to be today,” she said. “But talking about it might be helpful.”

“What if I’m jumping the ball on this, though?” he asked. “I mean, like you said we haven’t been together that long. What if it’s too soon to think about the future?”

“You’re in high school, Steve,” she said. “You’re graduating this year. There’s no better time to think about the future than right now.”

It didn’t help to quiet his anxiety, but it was somewhat comforting. It helped him figure out what to do, anyway. That was something. He smiled as the school bell rang and rushed to grab his bag so he could get to the other side of the building for his art class in time.

“Thanks, Ms. Foster,” he said. “See you later.”

“Go get ‘em tiger,” she called after him. He walked towards the art portion of the building, grinning as freshmen and sophomores rushed past on their way to class. He ended up in front of his classroom… and Thor wasn’t there. He tried not to be disappointed. But in all honesty, he wasn’t ready for that conversation. He was trying to get through the day. They had that karaoke thing tonight.

Focus on that, he thought. He looked down at his phone before he went into class. There was a text from Thor asking if he was okay.

Yeah, Ms. Foster ran in to me earlier asked if I could help her out with something. Took longer than expected, sorry.

He put it away before going into class. Loki gave him a look that he couldn’t decipher. Concern? Teasing? He always looked vaguely like the cat that ate the canary: smug, proud, and absolutely self-assured.

“Shall I tell your beau that he was worried over nothing?” he asked in greeting. “I’m afraid I’ll have lost my bet with Tony, though. Shame really. He was going to do something—”

“I’m fine,” he interjected before Loki could tell him what Tony had supposedly agreed to do. Those two were ridiculous.

“Thor was concerned,” he said in passing. “It was nauseatingly sentimental of him.”

“I’m sure it was,” he replied drily.

“I won’t presume to poke at your relationship,” Loki said. “But you know he cares about you.”

“I know,” he replied. He did. But that didn’t put his anxiety at ease.

Thor was trying to remember how to solve the problem in front of him for this calculus test. He was having trouble focusing on it, though. He remembered how to do it more or less, just concentrating was difficult today. Something was troubling Steve beyond him potentially going off his meds. Thor wasn’t sure what, but he could tell there was something up. Whatever it was, it had been going on since Tuesday when Steve had come home with him and told him that he might be going off his meds soon. He tried not to let it worry him. He got like this when anxiety was getting to him, shutting down, putting walls up, reluctant to let anyone in to help him. Although, he did worry if he had done something wrong during the sex they had that day, that maybe he was getting… bored.

Stop that. Focus, he told himself. He finished the test with about 15 minutes to spare and took out a book to pass the time. He knew Steve would draw some simple black and white pencil drawings. He preferred to read, especially fantasy books. It took him longer to read books than he liked to admit, but between sports, school, studying, and Steve (his favorite pastime by far) he didn’t actually get that much time to read.

Steve entered his mind again, as he usually did when they weren’t together. He was in his art class now. Thor was almost positive that Steve was too advanced for the class. He was too good, his drawings had too much detail to be getting much of anything from the high school art class. He wondered what he would be capable of if he was able to get into a good art school.

He saw Steve again when they had his history class in the afternoon. He still had that vaguely distracted look, like there were gears turning in his mind that took over everything else. He must be struggling today if it was still like this.

“Are you well, älskling?” he asked when he sat down next to him.

“‘m fine,” he replied. A lie, then. That was something at least. After William and Elias, both of whom had used him, it was nice to have a partner who couldn’t lie at all. Maybe that was selfish of him, but still.

“Do you need anything?” he asked softly.

“I said I’m fine,” Steve said a little more sharply. Thor decided to let it be. There was no point in prodding him. Steve’s walls could be really effective if he didn’t want to talk about something. One of the few difficult things about being with Steve, to be honest.

The rest of the day was tense. Thor didn’t bring it up again, however. There was no point in having a fight about something trivial before they were about to go out for the charity karaoke event. Tony and Loki weren’t going. Rehearsal had taken over their lives, like it did every year. Loki compared it to selling his soul. There was Wanda and Pietro, but he didn’t know them that well. And what exactly was the point in singing like a lunatic if the person he annoyed by doing it wasn’t going to be there? Having other people laugh and groan at his terrible voice wasn’t nearly as satisfying.

By the time the end of the day rolled around, he was feeling as tense as Steve, probably. They were planning on going to Steve’s apartment, then take the subway to the bar where the karaoke night was taking place. Hopefully they were going to be able to put whatever it was going on between them aside for the evening at least. He focused on that, their evening together.

They didn’t say anything to each other on the ride back to his apartment. Steve was stewing in whatever predicament he was dealing with Thor wondered if he had said the wrong thing the other day, if he should have been more definitive when Steve shared his concern with him. Or if he maybe said something else. It was maddening.

They arrived and Steve flopped on the couch with a sigh. Thor sat down next to him. Steve sighed again.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“For what?” Thor asked, genuinely bemused.

“I’ve been… testy the past few days,” he said.

“It’s all right, love,” Thor replied, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

“It’s not, though,” Steve said, leaning against him. He looked like he was about to vomit, the look he got when he was working himself up to say something. He was hoping that this time, it wouldn’t be about something as distressing as it was last time. He hated to see him cry.

“So what has been bothering you?” Thor asked. Steve swallowed.

“I’ve been thinking about… what comes next,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“Well… what do you plan on doing after graduating?” he asked. Thor looked at him, surprised about this turn of events.

“Well…” he said. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it much. I was thinking about going on a tour of Europe, but I do not know.”

Steve hummed. That didn’t seem to have helped. The wheels were still going. A thought occurred to him.

“Is this about me going back to Sweden in the summer?” Thor asked. Steve paused, then nodded. “Steve, that’s months away. There is no need to worry about it.”

Steve turned to look at him. There were tears in his eyes, though Steve seemed to be trying to hold it together by sheer force of will. He was afraid. Of what, Thor could not begin to imagine. It could just be his anxiety acting up. It could be another concern. It could be both. Then as soon as he looked at him, he looked away.

“Right,” he said. “Nothing to worry about.”

“Steve, if you want to talk about it,” Thor pressed.

“It’s fine,” he said, getting up. And just like that, his walls were back up. “Come on, let’s get ready for the karaoke night.”

I am an idiot, Thor thought.

Steve had his evening dose of his antianxiety med right before they were scheduled to leave for the bar and tried not to worry about what would happen if Dr. Erskine was right and his psychiatrist decided to take him off them. His appointment was for Monday morning. He supposed he’d find out then. Coincidentally, his appointment with Dr. Erskine was scheduled for a couple days after that, so whatever happened, he would probably end up talking to him about it.

Thor smiled as Steve pulled on the letterman jacket. He wore it almost every day, though he was going to have to find a way to give it back to him for a few days. It didn’t quite smell like him anymore and it was disappointing. There was something to be said about the whole smell triggering emotions and memories. If there was anything that he do with more of, it was some positive memories and feelings getting triggered rather than his anxiety.

Thor was dressed in a nice, red and black checkered plaid shirt rolled up to the elbow, a black shirt and clean, dark blue jeans. His hair was tied back in a neat ponytail and his beard was neatly groomed. Between that, his clothes, and his build, he looked vaguely like a lumberjack.

“Wow,” he said eloquently. Thor grinned and turned around slowly. Steve’s eyes fell directly to his ass, framed beautifully by the form-fitting denim, strong and tight and round and Steve’s mouth started salivating as he laid eyes on it. “Jesus.”

He caught himself as soon as he saw Thor’s smug, cocky grin. “Don’t even, babe.”

Thor chuckled. “You look sexy yourself, älskling,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to his lips. Steve blushed. His own clothing wasn’t anything special, just a navy blue button up and khakis. And Thor’s jacket, of course.

“You ready?” Thor asked, holding out his arm. Steve looked at it and chuckled before taking it.

“You’re such a sap,” he teased. Thor laughed.

“I think it’s sweet,” his mother said, taking a picture.

“Mom!” he protested.

“Oh hush, I’m getting sentimental in my old age,” she said. “Sue me.”

“You look great tonight, Ms. Rogers,” Thor said. “Do you have plans while we are gone?”

“I have a date tonight,” she said.

“You. What?” Steve asked. “Do I know him? Is it a him?”

“Now, son,” she chastised. “I’m aware that you’re not interested in women, but let me be the one to tell you that a lady has a right to her secrets.”

“Well…” Steve demurred. “If he tries any funny business, let me know. I’ll beat him up for ya.”

Both his mom and his boyfriend laughed at that. He chuckled a bit himself. The idea of him beating anyone up was honestly laughable, unless this guy was as small as he was. His mom came up to him and took his face in his hands.

“You’re sweet, son,” she said, stroking a stray strand of hair out of his face. “You two have fun tonight, you hear me?”

“Yes mom,” he groaned, smiling. “You too.”

“I will,” she said. “Now go on, you’ll be late.”

Thor dragged Steve out the door before he could protest or try to get a little bit more information out of her. Once they were out the door of the apartment, he simply walked with Thor to the subway station.

Whatever Steve had been expecting, this wasn’t it. The place was absolutely packed. He couldn’t even remember what this event was raising money for, he just remembered that it was an event that his school’s GSA had promoted. The idea that this might actually be a community event never crossed his mind. He squeezed Thor’s hand, taking comfort in his presence. Bars were hard, even when they didn’t serve alcohol. Thor covered his hand with both of his as they stood in front of the door.

“Thanks,” he said.

“We can leave if you want,” Thor said. “No one said we had to stay the whole time.”

“Right, right,” he said. He took a deep, fortifying breath. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Thor led him into the loud bar. People were already singing on stage. The ones who were actually brave enough to, anyway. Without alcohol, the more reserved, like Steve would have to suppress their inhibitions themselves. Not that he was planning on getting up and singing, not at all.

They met Pietro and Wanda sitting at a booth, waving them over. Steve hurried over, eager to seclude himself among people he knew rather than mill about with perfect strangers. He was suddenly really self-conscious. Who wore button downs and khakis to a club, anyway? Someone who had absolutely no business being in one, that’s who.

“Relax,” Thor said. “We’re here to have fun.”

“Yeah, Steve. You look fine,” Wanda said, taking a hand in hers. It was somewhat reassuring.

“Do both of you read minds?” Steve asked. “Because it was hard enough with just Thor and his entire family. Or am I just that easy to read?”

“It could be both,” Pietro said, with a grin.

“Is that Ms. Foster?” Thor asked, pointing to the stage.

Those assemble turned to look as, to their shock, Ms. Foster in civilian attire began singing at the top of her lungs to What’s Up by 4 Non Blondes. She’s… an amazing singer with a rich alto voice. The entire bar began to sing along, from the bartenders to the students who were probably all equally shocked that she actually showed up. Volunteers went around asking for donations from the patrons. Thor handed in a folded check. Steve didn’t ask how much he put on there. It was certainly more than he would ever think to give for a charity. Mostly because he was broke.

Cheers erupt from the audience as the song comes to a close and Ms. Foster bows and exits the stage. A few more people show up, doing a decent job, though there was one guy who had a good tenor voice who sang a song Steve didn’t recognize. It was nice enough. Ms. Foster was making the rounds, greeting all the students who came out to partake in the event.

“Your voice is amazing!” Wanda gushed when she showed up at their table. “I had no idea that you could sing like that!”

“Thanks, Wanda,” she said. “Any of you gonna go up and strut your stuff?”

“I think I’m the only one who isn’t,” Steve said.

“Aw come on, Steve!” Pietro said, leaning across the table to punch him lightly on the shoulder. “Live a little! It’s for a good cause.”

“Hey, Thor already donated money on my behalf,” Steve countered, drinking his coke. “Getting up to sing wasn’t in the plan for the evening.”

“I am singing on your behalf, then too,” Thor said, looking up towards the stage.

Just then the karaoke stage was empty and Thor got up to go get on stage. Steve said a Hail Mary (or some of it, anyway, he only knew the first line) as he watched Thor talk to the DJ and step up to the mic. Whistles and cheers sounded as soon as he was under the spotlight and a strange combination of jealousy and smugness stirred within Steve. Jealousy over people ogling his boyfriend and smugness that he was his boyfriend.

Not for long if he goes back to Sweden, a stray thought told him. That stopped him cold and he started doing a brief meditation exercise, focusing on the here and now rather than stray, unwelcome thoughts.

“This one’s for you, love,” he said, not indicating where Steve was in the crowd. The twins and Ms. Foster all turned to smile at him and he blushed, pulling his jacket around him. Ms. Foster sat down in the seat Thor abandoned and looked up at the stage eagerly.

“I bet he has a great baritone,” she said. “His voice is certainly deep enough.”

“You’re not wrong on that one,” Steve said. Meanwhile, Wanda had taken out her phone to record him.

The song began. It was an 80s rock song that immediately elicited cheers from the crowd. Even Steve knew this one. He groaned as he thought that his boyfriend might ruin Africa by Toto for everyone.

Bizarrely enough, the crowd got really into it. People were singing along, even the people at his table and Steve found himself singing as well. It was one of the few songs from the 80s he actually knew. He even laughed when Thor belted out, I bless the rains down in Africa every time the chorus came.

Eventually the song ends and the crowd cheers, even Steve for once, even though Thor’s voice remained absolutely terrible. He was beaming the way he always did when he sang. Ms. Foster and the twins stood when Thor approached. They all hugged him, laughing at his antics. Steve smiled and hugged him as well.

“Have you come around on my golden pipes yet, Steve?” Thor asked.

“Ehhh, the jury’s still out?” Steve replied.

“Maybe I need to go up again tonight,” Thor laughed. “I will convince you of the beauty of my voice yet.”

“What have I ever done to you, Thor?” Steve joked.

“You stole my heart, of course,” Thor replied, kissing him lightly on his forehead.

“All right, that’s enough sweetness for tonight,” Ms. Foster said, walking towards another group of students. “I’m going to have to call my dentist in the morning.”

The rest of the evening was spent laughing and singing, though Steve never got up to sing himself. Wanda and Pietro did a cover of Don’t Stop Believin’. They were among the few people who were actually good tonight, most everyone else was either terrible, nothing special, or decent, which Thor assured him was how most karaoke nights were. He did eventually get up to sing Eye of the Tiger, which he didn’t have the voice for at all. Just like last time, Wanda took out her phone to record his performance. He seemed to have a thing for 80s rock songs. Actually, that seemed to be a theme for the crowd in general.

Around midnight, though, Steve was starting to fall asleep on Thor’s shoulder. He awoke when his boyfriend shook his shoulder gently and yawned loudly.

“Ready to go home?” Thor asked. Steve yawned again and nodded.

“Five more minutes,” he said, laying his head back on Thor’s shoulder. Thor kissed the top of his head.

“Come, my love,” he whispered, shaking him a little harder. “Let me take care of you.”

Steve hummed and opened his eyes. The twins were smiling amusedly at him and he blushed. Thor helped him up and guided him towards the door. It was a cold night. The bustling sounds of the city, people chatting, cars driving, honking, street performers plying their trade, fell around him like a river over stones, smoothing away his worries and his weariness. Thor came up behind him and wrapped his arms around him. He breathed in his scent, wood smoke and pine, and leaned back into his chest.

“Come, my älskling,” he whispered. “Let’s go home.”

“Whose home?” he asked.

“Whichever one you want, love,” Thor replied.

Steve opened his eyes and tilted his head up to smile at his boyfriend. Thor kissed his forehead as they stared into each other’s eyes.

“I love you,” Steve whispered.

Thor smiled and kissed him again. “And I, you, Steve.”

#thundershield #marvel #avengers #stevethor #thorsteve #steve rogers x thor #Thundering Heart #Ballad of the Thundering Heart #fanfic #my work

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