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miss-bridgerton · 3 years

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for real l anthony bridgerton x you l part one

word count: 1,887 words

pairing: anthony bridgerton x you

author’s note: part 1 finally! it’s not much going on, but this is just the beginning.

taglist: @fact-fictionx @alainabooks143 @michael-loves-chickens @misstonybridgerton

summary: Everyone knew that the Viscount was a rake. Except for, apparently, three young women who clung to his every word. Anthony Bridgerton was in fact charming. But he was absolutely terrible at dating three women at once. Some would call him a dunce for doing so. Others might call him a hero. Adelia Byron called him dead when she found out. Set out on revenge, she and the other two young ladies, Bette DuPont and Siena Rosso, decide to transform a lonely bakers girl into someone who can break the heart of the Viscount.

PART 1: THE SOCIETY PAPER THAT CAUSED A SCENE

YOU HAD NO IDEA that a gossip column would be the cause of a brawl in your family’s tea shop and bakery: The Fancy Teapot.

Overly priced earl grey tea? Oh, absolutely.

Chairs that pinched the bottoms of debutantes and their mammas? Pinched bottoms surely caused nasty sneers a plenty.

But the latest gossip from the squares’ paper? You certainly didn’t see that coming.

It was all because of the Viscount. Lord Anthony Bridgerton was indeed charming. He had that smile that they all seemed to fawn over. His hair was swept in all the right places. And he was a British nobleman.

What more could a young lady want?

You rolled your eyes at the words that frequented that paper. What more could a young lady want? Well, for starters, you wanted freedom. You wanted to bake. You wanted to explore different cities. Eat exotic foods. Tell stories to your future nieces and nephews of your adventures. You didn’t care about marriage, no matter how many times your sister-in-law pushed it on to you. You just simply wanted to. . .experience life.

Unlike the young women who frequented The Fancy Teapot. They were all scouring for eligible unmarried men. It was what they were taught. It was all that they knew, really.

And two debutantes who enjoyed sipping tea in The Fancy Teapot had no idea that they were both courting the Viscount. Until it came out on paper, that is.

It was a sunny spring morning and the social season had sprung in London. You loved the social season for the money it brought the tea shop, but you absolutely loathed the social season for the debutantes and their snooty behavior. They were all perfect. Beautiful gowns. Rosy pinched cheeks. The stink of wealth swarmed them like bees attracted to honey.

You had none of those things. You came from a working family. You came from two different countries. Your father had travelled to (a country of your choosing) where he met your mother and they fell in love and married within a week of him being there. Your father had convinced your mother to leave everything behind to be with him in London, but her one condition was to open a tea shop and bakery.

He clung to his part of the condition. Soon after opening the shop, your older brother Jack was born. Five years later, you were born. For a short while, it was the four of you. Kids running through the tea shop, experimenting with teas, you found the love of baking with your mother, and your parents were still so madly in love it was almost embarrassing. Sadly, your mother became ill and passed away two years ago.

The death was stricken. And hard on you. But it was your father that you and Jack worried after, for it was almost as if he became a different person. As if he lost a part of himself when your mother died. He tried to drink his sorrows away at the pubs, and fancied spending too much money on gambles and bets.

That morning, he was nowhere near the tea shop, probably somewhere betting on poker chips, when you had to break apart two debutantes from nearly mauling each other.

Adelia Byron was with her friend, Cressida Cowper, at a small table near the colossal windows. She didn’t say thank you or even acknowledged your existence when you set down her steaming chamomile tea and slice of cornish hevva cake. You rolled your eyes at the way she gloated over the attention she received at the Warwick ball. Adelia was still on a thrill from two nights before, where the touch of the Viscount’s hand on her back as they danced was still on her. She dreamt of his gorgeous eyes. And when she saw the bouquets of roses addressed to her that morning, she was in total bliss.

Her friend, Cressida, was jealous. Adelia knew it. And if there was something Adelia Byron was known for, it was that she enjoyed bragging. Her father was a Baron, which made her quite eligible for marriage to a Viscount. She had elegant features: Dark red hair, stormy eyes, high cheek-bones. She had already received three proposals but Adelia knew what she wanted. Who she wanted.

Simply put, nobody else would do. She was going to marry the Viscount. And God help her and anyone who got in her way.

On the other side of The Fancy Teapot, situated at a round table underneath an elegant painting by your brother Jack, was Elizabeth DuPont and her overbearing mother, Colette. Elizabeth, often called Bette, was the daughter of The Marquess of DuPont. So her marriage to a man of great wealth and a powerful title was extremely vital. To her mother, at least.

Bette was fond of the Viscount. He swept her away with his words, he was impressed with the way she could speak French and German, and the kiss he laid upon her gloved hand sent a thrill through her body. She couldn’t bear to tell her mother that when she went out to the balcony for a quick breath of fresh air during the Warwick Ball, she was accompanied by Lord Anthony Bridgerton.

Her mother would have been furious. She wanted Bette to charm the Prince - not the Viscount. She wanted her daughter to marry a title higher, not a title lower.

You had just set down two tea cups of herbal tea at their table when one of the young newsie boys stopped by the Fancy Teapot to drop off the new Society Paper.

“Hey, Sam,” you greeted the ten year old boy. He often was the one who sauntered in here to deliver the paper and he did it eagerly, knowing fully well that you were going to give him some free wrapped biscuits, like always.

“Y/N!” He greeted with a boyish grin. “What’s on the menu today? I hope it's something drowned in sugar!” He said excitedly.

You laughed and grabbed the box of warm treacle tarts from under the front counter. “It’s not drowned in sugar, but I think you’ll still enjoy them,” you told him.

He grinned widely. “You’re a real magician, Miss Y/L/N!”

You smiled warmly as the little boy went off and you were so busy handing over his desserts that you didn’t even notice, Dorothea, your sister-in-law, completely captivated by the latest Lady Whistledown’s writings.

“Bloody Hell,” she muttered, leaning her back against the counter and reading the paper. A mama and her daughter were standing by the counter, awaiting some assistance and looking very peevish. You sighed at how unobservant Dorothea was.

You took care of the customers and then turned to Dorothea, who looked as if she had acquired the most scandalous news.

“Y/N! Have you read this yet? It’s so scandalous!”

“No,” you replied, though you were a bit curious. “Who is it about?”

“The Viscount.”

“Hard pass,” you replied.

Dorothea rolled her eyes. “You are impossible. It’s not just about him but about the women he’s apparently leading on. And,” she took a moment to look around the tea shop and then in a hushed tone continued, “two of them are in here. Right now. Unaware of all of it!”

Well, surely just a peak at the new Society Paper wouldn’t do any harm. You grabbed the paper and took a look:

At the Warwick ball Thursday evening, Viscount Bridgerton was seen dancing with not one eligible young lady, but two. Now, I assume you dear readers know quite the reputation of our charming Viscount, as this behavior isn’t quite unusual. If you are familiar with the season’s doings, dancing with eligible suitors is normal.

Except Lord Anthony Bridgerton was seen with Miss Bette DuPont awfully close on the brink of the balcony and also seen later that evening with a certain opera singer, Siena Rosso, nuzzling her neck in a dark corner of the opera house.

How will the ladies take this embarrassment? Well, this author predicts that Miss Bette DuPont will turn a rather shade red and Miss Adelia Byron’s eyes will flash with a colour quite similar. Miss Siena Rosso will probably be locked up in a bedroom with the Viscount to even notice.

LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS,16 APRIL 1814

Oh, brother, you thought. This better not cause anything stupid in here -

“HOW DARE YOU!!!!”

You and Dorothea looked up in bewilderment at the sudden outburst. And there it was. Lady Adelia Byron, looking absolutely furious, clutching the society paper, and standing over Lady Bette DuPont who was sitting at her table, looking between a mix of surprise and confusion.

“I beg your pardon?” Bette said to her appalled.

“You!” Adelia yelled. “You are involved with my suitor! How dare you?! You - you - harlot!”

Bette’s jaw dropped but it was her mother who spoke. “My, I never! That is quite unladylike behavior, young lady. My Elizabeth is not some harlot, clearly you cannot read because you have been thoroughly mistaken.”

Adelia rolled her stormy eyes and handed over the paper. Bette hastily read it before gasping, throwing a pretty gloved hand over her mouth.

“This cannot be true. My Lord would never do such things.” Bette told her.

“My Lord?” Adelia mocked. “He’s not your anything. I am going to marry him. So this little rendezvous is finished.”

Bette raised a brow. “I don’t think so,” she simply replied and took a sip of her tea.

Adelia looked as if she was going to chuck that steaming tea pot at the young lady’s head, so you had no choice - you had to get involved.

“Ladies, please, there is no need to act in such a manner,” you told them. They both looked in your direction, looking at you as if you were just a nobody. As if they were thinking, who the hell are you and who makes you think you have any say in this?

You cleared your throat. “He’s just a man,” you tried to explain.

Adelia snorted. “Idiot,” she said under her breath.

You narrowed your eyes at her. “You know, instead of getting mad at each other for something neither of you two were unaware of, you should be mad at him. Instead you are fighting over the tosser. Now that is an idiot.”

Both girls’ jaws dropped at what you said. But both didn’t say anything in retaliation. Instead, Adelia lifted her head high and walked away with what dignity she possessed and Bette went back to her tea, ignoring her mother’s angry stares.

Dorothea was nearly bursting in astonishment and the tea shop, which went quiet during the whole argument, went back to the bustling noise it always had.

All went back to normal. Until later that evening.

While you were cleaning up and closing down The Fancy Teapot for the day, you found a folded napkin at the same table that Adelia Byron sat with Cressida Cowper. Inside was a perfectly scrawled note addressed to you.

Not many people can inspire me, but you, Miss Bakery girl, did. Visit my estate as soon as you can manage. We have a lot to discuss.

X Miss Adelia Byron

#bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton fanfic #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #Anthony bridgerton headcanon #mine #my writing #fanfiction #fanfic #bridgerton fanfic

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zhonglisboss · 3 years

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＼(^o^)／ Pairing: Xiao X Venti

W: Contains OMORASHI, mentions of sexual stuff so proceed only if you like.

Word Count: 1k almost

=========°^°===========

Xiao grunted. The last thing he wanted was to be stuck in one of Zhongli's lectures. It was about how Xiao always forgot to take his painkillers, especially when he was with the traveler in an attempt to not be seen as weak. However the other pain that bothered Xiao, was one between his legs, rather his bladder.

It had been bugging him ever since he started fighting a group of treasure hoarders who had designs on Liyue, and he thought he'd slip in between the bushes afterwards but to his dismay his Lord came to visit him exactly as he was about to take his dress out of the way.

As the ex archon chattered Xiao felt the breeze around him get swifter as he suddenly sensed something...or someone.

"Greetings old friend!" A cheery voice cooed as he appeared right next to Xiao,almost scaring him. Zhongli, though hating Venti's drinking habits,was quite amiable to him. Venti casually slipped a hand around Xiao's shoulder- they had been dating for some months now,much to Zhongli's despair ("it reeks of wine").

As they were talking,Venti noticed how Xiao shuffled from feet to feet, and subtly cross his legs whenever Zhongli closed his eyes to remember the slightest of details. Venti was a little put off at first,but after realising how he also bit his lip and was sweating profusely, he understood what was going on as he chuckled. It awoke Zhongli from his trance, as Venti took the opportunity to say

"haaah.. as much as I love to talk with you dear friend, i must take my leave,my city calls"

Zhongli nodded in acknowledgement, Xiao was getting more shuffeled by the second,as Venti suggested.

"I'm gonna need some help. Do you mind if I borrow your son for a moment" he said with his signature playful expression, and Zhongli couldn't help but laugh at 'his son' as he gave him permission. Venti gave Xiao a knowing wink as he intertwined their hands and he summoned a wind spirit. Xiao supposed he'd be taken to Mondstadt, and maybe he could sneak off somewhere to pee, but he certainly didn't expect Venti to drop him off at a deserted forest.

His heart was beating, his bladder thumping as his stomach ached for realease. Venti pushed h against a tree as he said-

", Just because I got you away from Zhongli doesn't mean I get to miss the fun"

Xiao understood his intentions. Though they both had a thing for pee, they never did it in the outdoors before. Xiao was almost getting hard,if he didn't have to pee, ofcourse.

"I'm sure,a big strong yaksha like you can definitely keep it in...can't you?"

He said, seductively as he trailed his hands all over the yaksha's body. Xiao gulped down his anxiety as his bladder practically sloshed against his skin.

Venti hungrily pecked on his lips,the peck turning into a makeout session as he held Xiao's face with both hands. Xiao didn't know where to put his hands, so he just put them on his crotch, because god forbid he didn't wanna urinate on Venti since it's usually the other way around.

Venti smiled wickedly as he left his lips and bit his ear lightly,while his other hand trailed over to Xiao's bulging bladder. He rubbed his finger over it,before he gave it a big poke, at which Xiao moaned.

"Awww....look at you hold all that bubbling hot chamomile tea in for me" he said as he now out pressure on it,fully with his palm as moans spilled out of Xiao's mouth. Venti kept on with his minstrels as he couldn't stop cooing about how perfect Xiao looked.

His face was flushed red as he squirmed around, he kept biting his lips and he couldn't open his eyes,they were shut tight just like his pee hole. Venti,didn't give up either, his face was also red,but instead he had a wide grin on his face and his member twitched just at the sight of Xiao.

At a final attempt, he looked down as he ripped Xiao's clothing down, making the yaksha gasp as the cold air hit his private parts, as Venti started to full on rub his dick with one hand and keep pushing on his bladder with the other. Venti could feel it swirling on his significant others' stomach as he whispered in his ear.

"sssh,let go for me baby boy~"

Xiao gulped down, he wanted to-but his body sometimes refused. Venti clicked his tongue as his fingers thrust so hard, that Xiao gave another moan as he finally felt the liquids flow out of him, a warmth coating his garments.

Though the warmth was nothing compared to the hotness Venti felt as he saw his lover,so lewd,so wet. He looked Xiao in the eyes as Xiao let him continue. Venti gave a genuine smile as he pressed a kiss on Xiao's forehead,as he pushed him down and straddled his lap, his intentions ready for something else..

=========°^°==============

hello!

I write sexual stuff,fluff, and omorashi, and I hope you like my story. I have grammar checked it as much as I can,and I don't speak English so sorry for any trouble :(

There is a help I'd like to ask.

Yoimiya comes out on my birthday! I recently got Ayaka so I have to fight for 5050 :( it would be very helpful if you could commision me

A story like the top one is $5-10 (I'll add more words/more smut/more fluff if it's 10$)

I need them in GiftCards since my phone google play setting got changed in America's currency,so I need the cards in dollars :0

It would be very helpful!

thank you

#omorashi #genshinomorashi #bottomxiao #xiaoven #venti #genshin venti #holding

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bts-babyjoonie · 3 years

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Potion Witch- Namkook AU CH1

Pairing: Namjoon X Jungkook

Tags: M for mature, Witch Jungkook x Witch Namjoon, fluff, clumsy Namjoon, eventual smut

Word count: 1,676

Summary: Namjoon is a potion making witch. He's also very clumsy and prone to making mistakes. Probably not the best thing when your job is to handle delicate substances. Every two weeks Namjoon goes into town with a wagon full of his potions. He delivers them to his buddy and closest business partner Jungkook. Lately, Jungkook has been having trouble falling asleep so he turns to Namjoon to make him a sleep remedy. Of course, Namjoon agrees and makes it for him, but he accidentally mixes up the potions and gives Jungkook the wrong one. The next thing he knew, Jungkook was a bunny.

He’s done it now hasn't he….

Namjoon was a clumsy witch. Which was not something to aw at considering the fact he was a potion maker. It was a very delicate process and a long-limbed creature such as himself would need to be extra cautious.

Namjoon made his potions in his own cabin home located in an isolated part of the dark forest. The human villages were terrified of what horrible things lay imbibed deep, but as a witch, Namjoon did not mind. When his potions were ready he would stack them up on a wagon and make a trip to town where his good witch friend Jungkook lived. None of the humans there knew Jungkook was a witch of course. He owned a hidden magic shop in the middle of the large town. It was hidden from all non-magic users.

Aside from being close friends, Namjoon and Jungkook were also great business partners. The reason for his weekly trip to town was to bring Jungkook the potions he ordered. Jungkook would tell him what he needed and Namjoon would go home and conjure up a batch. All for a price of course.

One calm morning, a day before Namjoons bi-weekly trip to town, a crow landed on his bedroom window. The loud caw startled him awake and he frantically turned his head towards the sound. It was the ebony bird perched on the window sill with a letter between its beak. Namjoon sighed in relief. It was just a messenger crow. Jungkook had most likely sent it to him. Perhaps he needed another potion added to tomorrow's delivery. He got out of his cozy bed and scuttled over to his window. Namjoon tried his best to gently open it, but the house was so old that it got stuck not even halfway. He tugged on it a bit harder and the window rolled up so quickly that it crashed into the top startling the poor crow.

“O-oh I’m so sorry little birdie, forgive me”, Namjoon apologized. The crow seemed annoyed but it did not mind him. The dark bird let the letter fall into the large palms of Namjoon's hands and flew away. Namjoon sighed, he didn't get to feed the crow the seeds he had been storing from the times he went foraging. He opened up the letter that was sealed with a red wax stamp and on it was a message from Jungkook.

Dear Joon,

I apologize for getting this to you so late but I have a request to make.

I’ve been having trouble sleeping lately and I was wondering if you

could brew me a sleep potion. It would be much obliged and I’ll make sure

To pay you a good sum as always.

Sincerely, Jungkook.

Namjoon did not mind at all. Jungkook was the first person to make him feel welcome in the area and besides, he thought the younger witch was cute.

Since he didn't have anything else to do for the day he got started on Jungkook's request. He added dry lavender, chamomile flowers, oats, and a couple of other ingredients into the boiling pot. Before long it was done; so he bottled it and placed it beside tomorrow's delivery. He wasn’t paying much attention when he set the bottle down to another one of a similar hue. The next morning Namjoon rounded up all the bottles and carefully put them in crates. He loaded the crates onto his wagon and walked over to his horse to feed him an apple before leaving. The trip to town was about 30 minutes and it wasn't long before Namjoon had arrived at the magic shop. Jungkook heard the sound of the wagon wheels approaching so he left the shop to go and help Namjoon out.

“Morning Joon, you got what I asked for?”, Jungkook asked. “Yes I sure do, let me take these crates inside and I'll hand it to you then”. Namjoon swung his leg over the horse's body and hopped down onto the cobblestone road. Jungkook grabbed one of the wooden crates in the back and Namjoon grabbed the other. The door to the shop was closed but with just a wave of Jungkook's index finger, it slowly crept open. Inside the store were walls and walls filled with interesting Knick knacks, magical books, and of course potions of many colors. Green ivy grew in the cracks and crevices of the stone wall and spread over some of the shelves. Small objects like teacups and paper cranes floated in the air and led up the stairs to the area where the more powerful and dangerous items were stored.

Namjoon always stared in awe every time he entered the store. The vibe of it all was something else. “You can set those on that table, I’ll organize them soon”, Jungkook suddenly spoke, interrupting the silence. Namjoon almost dropped the crates. He was always a bit jittery when it came to Jungkook.

He set the crates on the wooden table. Usually, it would carry items for sale but today it was empty. Namjoon set the crate of potions onto the table next to where Jungkooks placed his. Jungkook yawned loudly and it reminded Namjoon of the bottle he needed to give him. He went over to the crate and grabbed the potion with the dark blue hue.

“Here Jungkook, I have the remedy to your sleeping problems”, Namjoon said while handing the bottle over to him. He smiled upon receiving it and Namjoon’s heart swelled at the sight.

“Oh, by the way, you should probably take this with some tea. I made it pretty potent so you could have some leftover for other times. All you have to do is add four drops into a cup of tea and tonight you will have a restful slumber”, Namjoon explained.

“Then… would you like to have a cup of tea with me Namjoon?”.

Namjoon nodded with a shy smile, his dimples showing on his cheeks.

“Alright follow me into the back, we can have our tea in my kitchen”.

Namjoon followed Jungkook behind the register and into a room hidden by a curtain of vines.

Inside was a daint little kitchen. The cabinets were a sage green color and the floor was a dark cedar wood just like in the shop.

“Please, take a seat at the table. I’ll go make the tea. Would you like mint or black?”, Jungkook asked. “Mint would be nice”, Namjoon said softly. Jungkook smiled and went over to the ceramic jar where he kept his mint tea. Namjoon looked to the corner of the room where the round table was. There were only two chairs but it was perfect. Namjoon took a seat and a couple of minutes later Jungkook came over with the tea. He placed the blue and white teacup in front of Namjoon and put some biscuits in the middle of the table.

“I have your payment in my room I’ll go and get it real quick”, said Jungkook already turning his body to head into the other room.

“Wait!”, said Namjoon. “You don’t have to pay me. It’s not like you’ll be selling it to others so you can think of it as a favor”, he grinned. Jungkook stared at namjoons crescent moon eyes and softly smiled.

“Are you sure Joon? I really don’t mind paying you for this”.

“Yes I’m sure, just take it as a gift”.

Jungkook sat down at the table with Namjoon and pulled out the sleeping potion. He unscrewed the top and held it over his teacup letting exactly four drops fall in. Jungkook looked at Namjoon for reassurance and he urged him on. He brought the teacup up towards his face and placed his soft rosy lips onto the edge of the cup. He took a few sips and placed the cup back down.

“Wow, N-namjoon it’s a little *ahem* s-spicy isn’t it?”. Jungkook coughed from the discomfort he felt in his throat.

“S-spicy? It shouldn’t be spicy”, Namjoon said concern laced in his voice.

Blue smoke started emitting from Jungkook’s body and the boys grew more and more worried by the second.

“Um, Joon what the hell is going on right now?! What did you put in this?”, Jungkook gasped. It was getting harder to breathe. It felt as if his body was beginning to fold into itself.

“I p-put in all the ingredients a sleep potion needed! I don’t know w-why it’s reacting this way!”

“Well think!”, Jungkook yelped.

Namjoon put his brain to work for a moment trying to remember if he had added another ingredient that could’ve caused this reaction when all of a sudden realization dawned upon him. That’s not a sleep potion that a transfiguration potion! His careless self gave Jungkook the wrong potion!

“O-okay don’t freak out Jungkook I know what’s happening right now”, Namjoon reassured the younger boy.

“Don’t freak out?! IM FREAKING OUT NAMJOON”.

The smoke was getting thicker and it seemed like Jungkook was getting smaller. Namjoon knew what was happening. This was a transfiguration potion Jungkook had asked for that turns the user into their spirit animal. The problem is Namjoon made the potion extra strong, as per request. He wasn’t sure how he was going to get his friend out of this dilemma. God he should really stop going off of the colors of potions to identify them. Sometimes he had too much faith in himself.

The smoke stopped rising and as it dissipated Jungkook was nowhere to be seen.

“Umm, Jungkook? Where’d you go?”, Namjoon called.

“I’m on the stupid chair”, said a small high pitched voice.

Namjoon stepped away from his seat and looked under the table only to see a small bunny huddled where Jungkook had previously been sitting. He was completely covered in black fur and his eyes had that familiar dark shine.

Jungkook had turned into a bunny.

“I’ve done it now”, whispered Namjoon.

a/n: First fic on Tumblr woohoo! Not sure how many chapters there will be but we’ll see I guess :D.

#bangtan #namkook #bts namjoon #jungkook hybrid #bunny hybrid jungkook #namjoon x jungkook #bts #witch au #bts witch au #min yoongi #eventual smut #bts smut #sub!namjoon #dom!jungkook

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blackaquokat · 4 years

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mother (make me a song so sweet)

Fandom: WKM

Pairing: Mayor Attorney (Y/N District Attorney/Damien)

Series: Ours to Choose

Summary: In which Damien finally meets a member of the law student’s family.

A/N: Hi, yes, it’s been a million years since I’ve written for this series. I’ve had this one swirling in my head for a while, but only just got the inspiration and energy to write it today. I hope you guys like it, as it has one of my favorite OCs making a reappearance from Satisfied.

And yes, that’s a lyric from a Florence + the Machine song for the title.

---

At first, Damien decides to give his friend space to reunite with their mother, freshly returned from the front two months after the war was declared over. He figures they would want plenty of time to themselves so their mother can settle back in and get reacquainted with normal life.

This plan lasts exactly three days before his friend calls him in the afternoon and asks why the hell he hasn’t come to visit.

“What?” Damien’s brow furrows as he adjusts his grip on the phone receiver. “But I thought you would want some alone time with your mother?”

“Damien, she’s been with soldiers for years now on the front, she said she wants to meet my friends and any other mildly friendly civilians I might know. So. Come on over. She’s making tea and hot chocolate.”

“Why both?”

“She really missed chocolate and decently-made tea, so she’s having both. I’m just counting my blessings that she didn’t try for chocolate tea.”

“Does such a thing exist?”

“Dear God, I hope not. I’d be doomed to an even worse tea addiction.”

---

Twenty minutes later, Damien knocks on his friend’s door, boxes of Almond Joys, Junior Mints, and Whoppers cradled in his other arm, courtesy of a quick stop at the nearest grocery store.

The door opens and a tall, severe woman who could only be his friend’s mother stands before him. Even if Damien had no knowledge of this person, the resemblance between her and his friend is irrefutable, from their black curls to their nose, even to the shape of their hands.

The most obvious difference is the scar that cuts from the side of her nose to the corner of her lips.

She looks him up and down, and suddenly Damien sees that she has the same kind of eternity in her eyes as her child. “You must be Damien. I’m Ruth.” She holds out her hand and Damien only gets to shake her hand once before she lets go. “Come on in, the tea’s still warm.”

“And the hot chocolate too?”

“Oh, you wanted some of that? It’s long gone.” After Damien shuts the door behind him, Ruth eyes the candy in his arms. “Is all that chocolate for me too?”

“Yes, um, my friend mentioned that you missed chocolate, so I thought I’d bring a Welcome Home gift for you.”

Ruth’s eyes brighten as she accepts Damien’s offerings. “Raindrop! Your friend is here and he brought chocolate offerings.”

“MOM!” Suddenly, there’s the law student coming out of the kitchen with a tray carrying three steaming mugs. “I have been so careful keeping that nickname a secret! You’ve been here less than a week and you expose me!”

Ruth waits until the law student sets the tray on the coffee table before pinching their shoulder. “I’ve got lost time to make up for, Raindrop. That includes using your name and fulfilling my parental obligation to embarrass you in front of your friends.”

Damien thinks he might love Ruth already, even with her highly intimidating demeanor. He also decides, for his own safety and self-preservation, not to ask Ruth about the “Raindrop” nickname until the law student is out of earshot. “What kind of tea do I have to choose from?”

“Chamomile or mint.”

Damien selects chamomile and the three of them proceed to sit down, Damien in the armchair, the law student and Ruth on the couch.

Throughout their discussions, Damien finds that Ruth’s similarities are more than surface deep. A similar deadpan sense of humor, the refusal to deal with nonsense, a love for tea (Ruth makes two more cups for herself and one more for he and the law student), etc.

But Ruth has a haunted look in that ancient gaze of hers that the law student lacks. He imagines this reflects the impact the war left on her. It makes his heart ache.

Before he knows it, their conversations last long into the evening, full of laughter and geniality as they all slowly eat their way through the candy Damien brought. The wrappers rest haphazardly on the coffee table around the empty mugs.

By the time he looks at his watch again, the late hour makes him blink. “I...oh my, I think I’ve overstayed my welcome into tomorrow, or, well, today, I suppose.” He yawns. “I’ll get out of your hair--”

“Nonsense,” Ruth interrupts firmly. “We’re not sending you home at this time of night. You’ll yawn yourself off a bridge.” She gestures to one of the hallways next to the kitchen. “We have a guest room. Feel free to use it.”

“Oh, I couldn’t impose--”

“If you were imposing, I wouldn’t offer. Stay the night, we’ll all have a nice breakfast together. We have clean clothes you can wear in the morning.”

Damien suddenly sees where the law student gets their blunt way of speaking.

Speaking of the law student, they’ve been watching this interaction with thinly veiled amusement. “Maybe we could all have breakfast at Amy’s Planet tomorrow. They went through some renovations while you were away, and expanded their menu.”

“Oh, I would love some of Amy’s coffee, let’s do that.”

Ruth gives Damien a pressing look, and he realizes he doesn’t have much of a choice in rejecting this venture. Which he’s absolutely fine with. He can’t remember the last time he’s enjoyed company to this extent, and he’s eager to get to know Ruth better. He had been worried she would not like him, considering the unorthodox way he and the law student became friends.

“In, ah, that case,” he says through another yawn, “I think I’m going to turn in for the night, so I can be plenty coherent at Amy’s tomorrow.”

They all exchange good nights, and as Damien makes his way to the bathroom (where the spare toothbrush he’s claimed on past impromptu sleepovers awaits), he overhears Ruth say to the law student, “Your taste in friends has improved greatly, Raindrop.”

Damien can’t help but smile victoriously at that. Mission accomplished.

---

Thank you for reading! Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed it! If you wish to be (un)tagged, please DM me and let me know!

@starcrossedforever87 , @dontworryaboutanything , @beereblogsstuff , @falseroar , @intemperantiae , @memetoyoko , @soul-wolf , @marki-dumb , @withjust-a-bite , @raimeyl , @scribbeetle , @its-dari , @neverisadork , @silver-owl413 , @sassy-in-glasses , @chelseareferenced , @sketchy-scribs-n-doods , @axolittle-boi , @wildfandom , @shrinkthisviolet , @purple-anxiety-blog

#kat writes #for the first time in forever #mayor attorney #damien the mayor #y/n district attorney #wkm #who killed markiplier #ours to choose #will soon be moved to ao3 as well #enjoy family time #while it lasts

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sapientiaethumanitas · 4 years

Text

Continued from here II @decemberxmorning

As the contours of the woman who had just appeared in his office tightened, Ezekiel stopped breathing for a moment. Emiel had described her beautiful black curls, but they were now stuck under a layer of blood, dirt and branches. Her clothes were torn in many places, although they were made of precious fabrics: black and white, also as Emiel had told.

But this did not affect her beauty; she was extraordinary.

But the thing that made the humanists' blood freeze in his veins was the crossbow bolt that was stuck in her side. Ezekiel thought the fact that she could still stand despite this injury was remarkable. What a tough woman...

"By the gods..." The vampire dropped the shirt he was about to put on and took a few big steps towards the sorceress: "You teleported yourself directly to the right office - it seems to be fitting that I am a healer.” He stabilised her by placing her arm over his neck and grabbing her by the hip with his other hand.

She looked up at him, exhausted and distorted with pain, and he gave her the best smile he thought appropriate for the situation. "It would be better if I took you to my lecture hall where I have a sanitised operating area, but I think my desk will have to do for now."

He lifted her up so far that it would not cause her too much pain. Then he gently placed her on his desk and hurriedly put the papers aside. Then he put on his shirt, rolled up his sleeves and fetched his doctor's bag.

"You have to lean to the other side where the bolt is not stuck. I'm afraid I'll have to cut your corset open, otherwise I can't get to the wound. The bolt is deep and I don't have any anaesthetic here... Oh, wait."

He quickly thought about what he could give her to temper the pain she was about to go through. After all Yennefer didn't seem able to cast a spell of protection on herself.

He searched his cupboards in the hope of finding yarrow, willow bark or chamomile. Nothing. He cursed inwardly and after further searches only found a bottle of spirit, which his dwarfish accountant had brought him.

"I swear to you, I'm a good doctor, really. Even though I have given all my medicines to my students, and even though I have to anaesthetize a world-famous sorceress with dwarven alcohol..."

He raised his eyebrow and handed Yennefer the bottle: "Drink, drink plenty." He opened his bag, in which his surgical instruments shone. First, he took a bottle of transparent liquid from it and poured it gently over the instruments. He then poured the rest over both hands and took the scissors, only to approach Yennefer's clothes a little later. Carefully he cut a hole around the point of entry.

The bolt had not penetrated deeply, but it still required dexterity to pull it out. "This will hurt, I'm afraid I can't prevent it. But I'll make it fast."

He reached around the wood with his whole hand, wiggled a little to loosen it. The sorceress hissed. Ezekiel looked at her briefly and when she had given him the okay with a short nod, he pulled the bolt out with a jerk. Then he placed a clean cloth on her wound so that the bleeding would not become too intense. "Press the cloth firmly onto the wound." He opened another bottle of the transparent liquid and then approached Yennefer again. He removed the cloth and then poured the liquid over the wound, making it difficult for the sorceress to breathe.

He dabbed the blood with another cloth, then soaked it again with the liquid and cleaned the wound once more. Wordlessly he went back to his bag, this time taking a thin needle through the eye of which he pushed a filigree thread, then he held it over a candle that had already been well burnt.

While he twisted it between his fingers, he examined the sorceress. "Now it will hurt bitterly again, but then it will be over."

The needle was heated and Ezekiel knelt down before Yennefer to start sewing up the wound. The first time the needle penetrated her skin, she flinched, but Ezekiel was quick and highly skilled at what he was doing.

Ten small stitches were needed to seal the wound. When the vampire was finished, he dabbed off the remaining blood. "Finished. I tried hard not to blemish your delicate skin too much. When I remove the stitches in a fortnight, there will only be a tiny scar left. I'll get some ointment right away to speed up the healing process."

He smiled so that she could see his sharp teeth and then fuzzed through his hair. Smirking he grabbed the bolt and examined it: "Mhm, Nilfgaard Arbaleste. Third Infantry. I am curious, but my discretion forbids me to ask."

He put the bolt away and before the sorceress could say a word, they were disturbed by a loud knock at the door. Two of Ezekiel’s students rushed in, the tall Casper and the somewhat stocky Mertlin: "Master Ezekiel, the sweet two peaches from the medicine department have finally agreed to picnic with us! You're such a womanizer, what should we pack for food?" Casper's eyes were shining, but the shine faded quickly when he saw Yennefer.

"Excuse me, dear lady," he lifted an imaginary hat and looked pointedly, which Ezekiel suppressed directly with a sharp look.

"I will help you, boys. But now listen to me. I won’t repeat it: Lady Yennefer is our guest at the Academy. You will immediately go to the building management and have them prepare the best room for her, with a rich dinner and a hot tub. Have arnica, blackberry leaves, goldenrod and ribwort added. And light the fireplace. Right away, shoo shoo. You can come to my place tomorrow night, I've got some ale and advice for you."

The two nodded and scurried out again as quickly as they had come. "I'm sorry. How boys are - always a little wild. Feel better already?"

#☾ ━ ° Stories have to be told /or they’ll Die [RP THREADS]#☾ ━ ° She’s not heartless / She just learned how to use her heart less [YENNEFER]#decemberxmorning

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hermankopusortizorsumshite · 4 years

Text

Y’all this is part one! I repeat!! There is a part two!! Literally no one has read yet!! ❤️❤️

She was a friend of Trager’s, from his past. A young girl he’d saved almost twenty years ago now a grown woman thriving. She worked as a waitress at a bar in Sacramento, and Tig often made visits to see her. As he visited last, he had mentioned that he was concerned for her health and wellbeing. He’d said things were getting kind of crazy around Charming. She took that as a warning to get out of Dodge, so she did. She found a place in Dallas to hunker down, found a good job, and made a little life for herself. She was alone, of course, but she had a few friends.

She got ready for work, putting her hair up into two cute little braided buns, pinning back any loose hair before putting on some winged eyeliner and mascara, some fake lashes, and bright red lips. Smoothing her black button down shirt and fixing her collar, she gets on her bike and heads to work. A few Hispanic bikers showed up as soon as the doors opened. They drank and cheered, celebrating something. She smiled as she wiped down the bar, hands pressing onto the wooden top stopping her circles. She looked up and met the most gorgeous pair of blue eyes.

“Hi! What can I get for ya?” She asks, biting her bottom lip ever-so-slightly as she finished speaking. The blonde’s grin only got wider as he ordered a drink, the leather kutte that rested atop his bare shoulders at first had her heart racing. He was gorgeous. Tall, blonde, wide shoulders, beautiful blue eyes, my god. He was a sight for sore eyes. Her eyes scanned the leather, reading his patches. Sgt. at Arms, Tacoma. Those two meant something to her, as she thought about it while she poured him a drink, and when it hit her she slid the drink to him without another look before disappearing. Her heart was pounding so heavily she thought it might explode. She was leaned against the cool brick wall when Jade found her with a concerned look.

“You okay?” She asks, grabbing the woman’s shoulder. Tig was a sergeant at arms for SAMCRO, and if this guy was the same for Tacoma, she had a bad feeling this guy wasn’t here on pleasure.

“Yeah, sorry. Just felt sick for a second, I’m fine.” She grins, heading back inside to find the blonde still planted at the bar. A few more men made it to the bar, and she could feel the blonde’s eyes on her every move. “You need a refill, Darlin’?” She asks, and his eyes meet hers for a moment as he nods, winking at her. Her knees went weak for a second as his fingers brushed hers when he took the glass.

“Thanks, doll.” She almost visibly choked at the nickname. She’d only been called that by one other person. Her eyes jolted to his and he winked once more, sipping from his drink and watching the golf on the TV above the bar. She hurriedly got the other men their drinks before returning to stand in front of the gorgeous biker.

“You know Trager?” She hushes, eyes pleading him for something. He couldn’t quite tell what she wanted him to say, so he gambled on a yes.

“Yeah, I’m SAMTAC, here on vacation. Trager and I go back pretty far.” He chuckles, taking another sip from his drink.

“Right, got a name blue eyes?” She asks, giving him a little smirk.

“Kozik.” He chuckles, reaching for her knuckles. He takes them into one big, ringed hand for a second before dropping it on the bar.

“Well Kozik, what brings a Tacoma bad boy like you to Dallas on vacation?” She asks, wiping out a couple glasses as her eyes scan the bar for anyone looking for a drink.

“Just got sick of Washington, I guess. Needed a change of scenery. And I gotta tell ya, I’m lovin’ the view.” She snorts, rolling her eyes as she pours another drink for one of the men down the bar.

“How many poor unsuspecting crow eaters you use that on?” She scoffs with a smile. He laughs, giving her a great big smile making her heart jump.

“Probably too many.” He admits, shaking his head.

“Where ya staying?” She asks, writing down her name, apartment, and phone number on an old tab receipt.

“Mariot. Lemme tell ya, those beds suck ass.” He chuckles, eyes watching her scribble. Tig made Kozik a deal, if he could get the girl back to SAMCRO he could patch in. He took the job confidently, how hard could it be to convince a chick to get on a motorcycle with a hot biker? He chuckled to himself as he thought about Tig’s conversation.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Kozik!” Tig shouted through the shop, finding the blonde in the lot working on his bike. “Dumbass! I got a job for ya!” He shouted, waving the big blonde into the clubhouse.

“What’s up?” He asks, wiping his hands off on a grease rag in his pocket.

“Tell you what, with all the shit that went down with Gemma, it got me thinking about a girl I saved.” Kozik snorted, raised his brows at the older man. Tig scowled, swatting him upside the head. “Not like that you fuckin’ idiot. Anyway, this girl is really important man. Be serious, or I’ll find someone else.” Tig warned, pointed a finger at the younger man.

“Sorry, man. Go on.”

“Anyway, lockdown is in four days. You gotta get this girl back here so I can keep her safe.” His eyes were darker than normal, Kozik noticed. Tig really cared about this girl.

“Okay, what’s in it for me? Where is she even at?” Tig looked to the floor.

“I’ll let you patch in. She’s in Dallas at a hole in the wall bar, I’ll give you the address. You up for the challenge?” He asked, scribbling down the information he needed. He watched on as Tig pulled his chained wallet from his pocket and pulled a picture from it. His thumb brushed over the little Polaroid.

“Dallas, man? That like twenty five hours away without stops dude.” He groaned, frowning. Tig grabbed his shoulder and Kozik met his eyes.

“I know, I know it’s a lot. But if anyone has a chance at convincing her to come home, it’s you. Please.” Kozik could tell he was so serious. With a heavy sigh, he grabbed the photo from Tig’s hands and the address and got ready to head out. “Kid? Be careful. She’s a firecracker. She could, in fact, kill you if you piss her off, courtesy of me by the way.” He chuckled before he headed back to the garage.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Well here, I’m not sure if my fold out couch is any better but Pop wouldn’t want me leaving you in a shitty motel.” She chuckles, sliding her information across the bar to the man before disappearing out of sight. Her shift is cut short by Jade appearing and grabbing the towel from her hands.

“You and blondie get outta here, Dax wants me to close up since we’ve been pretty dead. Go on!” She laughs, pushing the younger woman out the bar’s two-way swinging door and handing her her purse.

“Oh no, he’s a friend of Pop’s. So no. I won’t be ‘getting outta here’ with him.” She laughs, hopping on her bike and starting it, when his Dyna roars up next to her.

“You out already?” He calls, giving her a sweet, sexy smirk. With a nod, she zooms away with a smile, letting him follow behind her as she headed to her apartment. Pulling into the lot, she hops off her bike, waving him into the same spot she was parked in. As she heads up the stairs, she finds Missus Cipriani sitting on her porch, coffee cup in her wrinkled hands. Grabbing a chair, she sits next to old woman and offers Kozik to lean against the rail.

“Sweet girl, you found yourself a man?” She asks, grinning at the blonde leaned against the iron railing.

“Yes ma’am,” Kozik responds before she had a chance to get the words out. Kozik steps up, patting your shoulder.

“You look nice, tell me young man, what do you do for a living?” She asks, sipping her chamomile tea with honey. Lyra could smell the sweetness and desperately longed for a cup of it.

“I’m a mechanic in Charming, California.” He smiles, gripping the ebony-curled woman’s shoulder.

“Very nice, you two are cute. Have a good night, sweet girl. I love you.” Missus Cipriani smiles as Lyra stood to head to her door. “Lyra?” She asks as Kozik stepped into the small apartment, her apple doll face scrunched up as she smiled wide. “He’s a cutie. And a keeper. Good night, baby.” She grins, all big teeth and wrinkly skin. Lyra grinned back, blowing her a kiss.

“Night, Elsie. Love you. Sleep tight. If that damn cat wakes you up again let me know, I’ll kill that scraggly bastard.” Elsie laughed so hard for a moment, Lyra couldn’t help but laugh along.

“Of course dear. Goodnight.” Lyra steps into her apartment shutting the door. She turns to face the blonde, nervous and a little scared.

“So, Kozik. That’s it? Just Kozik?” He chuckles, looking her up and down, soaking in her petite body, licking his lips.

“It’s Herman Kozik. Don’t call me Herman.” He nips, pointing a finger at her. With a giggle, she unbuttons her black shirt, pulling it off to reveal a floral tattoo on her shoulder, and a plain black bra.

“Feel free to get comfy. I’m gonna go change and I’ll be right back.” She disappears, leaving him to collect his thoughts. They should be on the road by morning or they’d never make the first night. Though if he were honest, he’d rather they stay holed up in her apartment, finding out more about each other, maybe on a deeper personal level. He found her insanely attractive, he found himself having a hard time controlling the urge to touch her.

“Hey, want a beer?” She calls from the kitchen, drawing him back to earth.

“Yeah, that’d be good. Hey, I got a question.” He states, popping his beer cap and putting it in the pocket of his kutte and taking a swig.

“What’s that?” She asks, a small smile on her lips.

“I need you to come back to Charming with me.” He croons, eyes pleading with her.

“Oh no. No you don’t.” He tries to stop her but a fire rages in her eyes, hand gripping the neck of the bottle.

“Listen, I gotta bring you in one way or—“

“No.” She states plainly, sitting on the couch next to him and sipping her beer.

“Come with me.”

“No!” She barks, glaring at him.

“You don’t have a choice. I’ll kidnap you if you wanna look at it that way. Against your will, you can tell everyone in Charming I did it. I kidnapped you, but Tig knows and so do I, it’s for your safety. Get up, we gotta go. Pack a few bags, nothing major, it’s only a week.” He informs, taking another drink trying to calm his nerves.

“Make m—“ He hand covers her mouth and he gets within inches of her face.

“Don’t. Trust me, love. That’s not gonna end well.” He growls low, watching her eyes widen under his hand. With a quick, swift kick, he was flat on his back heaving for breath as she was sprinting away. Catching her ankle, he drops her on the floor and handcuffs her. “Tig was serious.” He huffs, trying to catch his breath.

Lifting her to her feet proved difficult, especially when she slammed her head into his. Grasping at his eye and growling, he tackles her to the ground leaving her there as he headed to her bedroom to pack a couple bags. When he was finished, he dragged her to his bike. Padlocking her handcuffs to the seat strap, he tucks her bags into the saddlebags.

“Christ, you’re such an asshole.” She hisses, her wrists burning from the tight cuffs.

“I’ll take those off if you promise to behave.” He coos darkly, trying to look scary. She chuckles with a glare.

“Behave, Pop did tell you I wouldn’t go willing, didn’t he? That would be why you have the cuffs, right? I mean, unless your a motorcycling badass who plays rent-a-cop.” She snarls. He was tired. He’d been up for almost twenty-seven hours, and he was exhausted. He gave a yawn, and she felt a little bad for being such a pain. Deep down she knew Tig was doing it out of love, but had he really sent this big brute to drag her back kicking and screaming? Of course he had. He sent this big blonde on purpose. He thought she’d be so swooned by his looks that he thought he’d be able to whisk her away. “Fine, I’ll cooperate, but take these off please. Number one, it’s not safe, and number two, I’d rather hold on to you. For safety reasons of course.” She giggles.

“Oh no you don’t. I’m unhooking them on one condition only.” He growls, fingertips feeling his cheek gingerly and wincing. He’d have a black eye from her little excursion.

“And that is?”

“You look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t plan on running, kicking my ass again, or ya know, any crazy horse shit Tig taught you. He’s just trying to keep you safe, and honestly, I don’t know why he sent me. He still blames me for his dog dying. So I don’t know why he sent me, but he did. He trusts your life with me, and I plan on delivering you to him alive. How alive you are, depends on how you wanna act.” He heaves a long sigh, sucking in a huge yawn.

“I know. Listen, let’s sleep tonight and leave in the morning. You’re too tired to drive. You can even handcuff me to you if it helps.” She assures, resting her head on his warm, bare shoulder.

“Yeah, sleep sounds good.” He whispers, unlocking the padlock and helping her off the bike. They went back inside and he did like she suggested he handcuffed her to himself and they laid on the couch. He laid down first, offering on top of him as a totally viable place to be comfortable. Giving a giggle, she agreed. Laying on him, she shivers against him, reveling in the warmth and sweet cologne and smoke that swirled around them. Yanking the blanket off the back of the couch over the two, in seconds they were fast asleep.

“Morning.” She calls from the kitchen as she hears him roll over. He’d left the cuff-keys within reach, and this morning at six when she had to pee, she found them and unhooked herself. She’d considered running, he wouldn’t find her for at least a few hours. She’d decided against it. It might be nice to go back to Charming and see everyone she’d missed. With a sigh, she found herself feeling a little excited.

“Tell me, Tacoma. You originally from Tacoma? Or somewhere else?” He sat up when he heard her voice so far away.

“How did you—“ She tosses the keys to him and disappears again, returning with a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast. “Thanks.” He smiles, taking a bite. “I’m originally from Charming, but me and Tig had a falling out. I left for Washington and Tig became Sargent at Arms for SAMCRO.” He nods finishing his breakfast and standing to stretch. “Hey, I gotta drain the radiator.” She points him towards the bathroom as she heads to his bike to grab the bags he packed. As he stepped out of the bathroom, he went looking only to find the apartment empty. “Fuck!” He shouts, grabbing the door handle just as she stepped back into the apartment to get rid of half the stupid things that he packed.

“Miss me baby?” With a snide remark, she watches as he heaves a deep breath.

“Fuck off.” He breathes, grabbing her tight against him. Was he scared for her safety? Was he worried that she’d run away? He didn’t know what made him do it, but he did, arms tightening around her. Dropping her bags at his feet, and grips his shoulders. “Next time say something.” He snips, pulling himself away from her and eyeing her bags.

“I was gonna repack really quick. I figured you didn’t pack anything I’d actually wear. Which means I’m either going naked or I’m repacking. And that’s totally up to you.” He grins darkly, grabbing her up and making her squeal before he put her back on her feet.

“Go ahead, I’ll be out here.” He smiles, smacking her butt as she scampered down the hall. Appearing a moment later with her bags, she grins at him as she slips out the door, Kozik following quickly behind.

“Missus Cipriani!” She knocks on the woman’s door. As the little old woman appears, she grins when she sees the bags and the big blonde behind her. “Hey, I’m gonna be gone for like a week. You think you could water Jethro and Lucille for me? I’ll leave you my keys.” She hands over her door key, and with a smile, they disappear down the stairs.

He pulls into a gas station and fills up, heading in for a drink.

“You want a drink?” He calls to her. With a little smile, she gets off the bike and heads in with him. His eyes caught a camera in the corner and a man with a swastika on his chest. Grabbing her hips, he pulls her against him, pulling her hood up over her head. “Don’t question me.” He hums in her ear as he leads her to the case for a drink. They both grab energy drinks and head to the counter. His leather kutte should have tipped they off, but they never saw her face. He got her to the counter paid for their things and headed out, hopping on the bike. “Don’t move.” He whispers, pulling a Kevlar vest from a saddlebag and haphazardly pulling it over her head and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Kozi—“

“Don’t.” He whispers as the man heads out of the store to a green and off white bronco. Grabbing his cellphone, he dials Tig. “Hey! What does Weston drive? Is he bald?” He asks, his face scowling as Tig answers.

“Is she with you?” He asks, and Kozik assures she’s safe.

“Yeah, she’s got the Kevlar on. Don’t worry.” He murmurs, “listen, does Weston drive a green two tone bronco?”

“Yeah, why? He there?” He asks.

“Yeah. I got it. Just gotta lose him.” He mutters. Climbing on the bike in front of her and shedding his beautiful kutte. “Stuff this between us.” He whispers, before he hears Tig.

“Hey, can I talk to her?” Kozik hands back the phone.

“Hey Pop!” She cheers, getting a sideways glance from a half-mad Kozik.

“He keepin’ you safe?” He asks, voice somber.

“Yeah pop. He’s pretty cute too. Good choice.” She giggles, hearing the blonde huff. Peeking around his shoulder, she sees a smug grin on his face.

“Stay with him, darlin’. I know it’s not ideal, but that Weston guy is gonna try to hurt you. Let Kozik do what he needs to. Don’t fight him. Okay?” He asks as his eyes filled with tears. He was terrified that Weston found them and they hadn’t even left Dallas yet.

“Yeah, Pop. You got it. Hey, is he a good one?” Kozik listened in for a second.

“Yeah, kid. Hold on tight.” He chuckles, swiping quickly at the tears that rolled down his cheeks as Clay walked in.

“Alright, Pop. I love you.” She whispers, feeling her throat start to close.

“I love you too, doll face. You and dumbass keep each other safe, okay? I’ll see you when you get here, hunny. I love you so much.” He whispers, letting her hang up. Tig’s hands smoothed up and down his lap for a while to calm himself down. He should’ve just gone by himself. He should have just done it. Gone and brought her home. He should have never made Kozik that deal. He knew she’d find him attractive, but she sounded genuinely interested. “We need to arrange someone to pick them up the minute they hit California. Make it look like a heist. I’ll send someone else for the bike with a tow truck. Kozik already has a tail. Weston.” He growls.

“Who’s Weston?” She asks as they floor it onto the highway. Kozik checking his mirrors to see the bronco get on right behind them.

“Hold on, babygirl.” He yells over the whipping wind as he cranks the speed. Revering in the feel of her arms squeezing tightly to him, he guns it harder as he weaves through traffic. He hadn’t even meant to call her that, but it slipped out and he didn’t take it back.

“Kozik! He’s gone!” She shouts, giving a shriek and hugging tighter to him as he guns it harder. They headed up to the panhandle of Texas and into New Mexico. As they pulled off into a big gas station and he pulls the bike between two big semis.

“Hey, you can take off the Kevlar. It’s okay. Weston got off in Albuquerque, I got a scout leading him back to Charming.” The pretty blonde heading into the store after filling the bike. She slipped into the bathroom and sat down to pee when she heard the door open and her heart stopped.

“Darlin’?” His rough sweet voice calls from the doorway.

“Yeah.” She calls, finishing up and heading out to find something to drink.

“Hey baby, you okay?” He asks, his arm loosely hanging over her shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m good. Let’s go eat somewhere.” She coos, grabbing onto the front of his kutte.

“Yeah, I suppose we better. You up for breakfast?” He asks, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

“Yeah, that sounds good. You okay?” She asks, eyeing him. He looked tired and scared. He looks up for only a moment before he grabs her hand and leads her to the counter with a couple energy drinks and a bag of pizza combos.

“I’m just tired.” He chuckles, dropping a ten on the counter and heading out the door, his favorite black-haired girl in tow.

“Yeah, you ready to find some grub?” She giggles as he swings her in a sweet circle, one arm around her waist, the other clasping her hand. “And you can dance.” She grins, laughing as he swings and twirls her.

“Not a lot.” He laughs, helping her onto the bike before climbing on, her small arms wrapping around his abdomen and holding tightly as he searched for a breakfast place. Pulling into a parking lot across from a Mariot was a little diner he prayed served breakfast. It was close by, they could walk over for actual breakfast in the morning. They had finally made it to Milan, that Kozik read on a pamphlet at the door. Heading into the restaurant, Kozik’s hand doesn’t leave her waist. They’d fallen into an easy routine of being in love, and they barely knew each other. He found he wasn’t curious. He’d loved just being around her. He lets her into the corner against the wall, sliding in next to her.

“Hi! Welcome to Milan! What can I get you two to drink?” Asks the bubbly, curvy waitress, with a happy smile. Kozik assessed her quickly before giving her one of his biggest smiles, making the young girl blush. Lyra felt her heart drop for a second, gripping his thigh.

“I’d like a coffee, just black.” She smiles, giving the blonde dirty look.

“Coffee too, got a long trip ahead.” He smiles, patting her upper thigh in contentment. As the girl nods and wisps away, he presses a kiss to her forehead and murmurs in her ear. “Darlin’, the only person in here with my full attention,” his fingers danced up her thigh, making her shift, “is you, babygirl. Don’t you worry.” He rasps, nipping at her ear before straightening up and flipping open a menu. She let out a few shaky breaths as the waitress reappeared with their coffee.

“You need a few minutes to look over the menu?” She asks, pulling her order book and pencil out.

“I do, you?” She looks to the blonde, kissing the bare skin of his upper arm where the tattoo sat.

“I need just a minute. Sorry, we’ve never been here.” He chuckles, one hand absently gently running back and forth along her inner thigh, exciting her senses and making her knees pull together squeezing his fingertips to make him stop.

“What are you doing?” She hushes into his ear, pressing an ardent kiss to the corner of his lips. He turns his head and kisses her square on the lips, his own warm and inviting. The waitress appeared back with her book, ready to take an order.

“If we order, can we get it packaged to-go?” He asks, one arm slung over her shoulders lazily.

“Yeah absolutely! What can I get packed up for ya?” They ordered breakfast, each getting two different things and got their bag of breakfast food and headed to the hotel across the street. He handed off the food to her and carried their bags in. After checking in, they all but sprinted to the room. He was ready to get her undressed, find out what that big tee shirt and shorts were hiding.

As they slipped into the room, she dropped the food on a table, yanking her clothes off in a whirlwind of flying objects, their clothes landing in a pile together. His warm, strong body met hers feverishly, holding her tight as his lips found hers in a passionate meet of tongues and lips. Her fingers combed through his soft blonde spikes, his fingers tangling in her dark ebony curls as they fell to her shoulders when he broke her hair tie. With a laugh, they continued to get more heated. Digging his wallet from his jeans pocket on the floor, he pulls over a condom, rolling it on as she watched. Grabbing his wallet chain, he unhooks in from his wallet, hauling her back against the bed and wrapping the wallet chain around her wrists twice and clipping them to the bannister of the metal bed frame. He stretched her legs straight down under him and she sucked in a breath when his lips met her cool skin with hot kisses and nips. He ground his hips into hers with smooth rhythm.

He gave a low growl as he slid into her, her eyes blown wide legs wrapping around his waist and her ankles crossing. Unhooking her hands and unwinding the cold chain, he drags it along her clammy hot skin sending shivers down her spine and leaving her gasping for air. The cold shocked her and he grinned as he dropped the chain to the floor and her hands found his back, nails biting into his muscular shoulders.

Hands digging for a hold on him as they reached their peak, Kozik grunting against her as he rode out his high, leaving the two breathless and sated. He padded to the bathroom and she heard the shower start. With a deep breath, she headed in after him with her little travel shower kit. They climbed in the shower and she grabbed her kit and handed him a bottle of men’s shower gel and grabbed her own floral scented body wash.

“Should I ask why you have men’s shower gel?” He chuckles, giving her a little smile.

“Tig sends me a bottle every year for Christmas. I told him I missed having him around so he sent me a bottle of shower gel to put in the corner like he still lived with me, or least visited.” She explains shyly, scrubbing his back, using the loofah to trace the letters etched into his wide shoulders. Something about the black ink against his lightly golden skin, the blonde hair and those beautiful ocean blue eyes that drank her in so often, she fell in love. She was totally in love with this perfect, gorgeous stranger. Pop had done it on purpose. He took the loofah from her hands and squeezed out the men’s body wash before putting her floral pink shimmery wash and scrubbing up and down her body. He found himself mesmerized by her beauty.

A few hours pass and she was reading a pamphlet about the twenty-four-hour pool. Shaking Kozik’s shoulder, he rolls and grunts, waving her away from him. Grabbing her cell phone and a towel, she changes into her two piece swim suit and heads down to the pool. Oddly enough, at two in morning, there was a man at the pool, short dark hair and a swastika tattoo at the base of his throat. He was tall, gangly, all arms and legs as he did laps around the pool seemingly minding his own business. She sits her towel on the fold out chair and saunters into the hot tub.

“Shit, it’s early.” He peeked through one eye and looked at the clock that sat on the side table. 3:45AM gleamed red. He reached for her waist to find the bed empty. Shaking his head, he waited a few minutes before getting up to check the bathroom to find the door open and light off. His heart started to pound as he started down the halls to the pool. Shoving into the pool room, he’s woken completely by the bleach smell starting a fire in his nostrils. He looked through the room and found it empty, expect for a SAMCRO towel hanging on a chair. “No.” He mutters, grabbing the towel and hunting around for any other idea as to where she went.

“Jump in, the water’s fine.” A dark voice calls from behind the blonde man. Kozik turns slowly to face a tall brunette, gangly with a swastika tattoo on his chest. Kozik leaned over the edge to find her sitting on the bottom of the pool.

“Christ!” He jumps in, jeans and black tee, grabbing her and dragging her to the surface and ripping the tape from her mouth and pulling her against him. Smoothing the hair from her face and starts chest compressions. “Come on! Come on! Please! Don’t do this to me!” He shouts, giving her chest compressions until she coughs up some water, sucking in a breath and sputtering up water. “Christ.” He heaves, gathering her against him and undoing the ties around her arms and legs. Lifting her up, he carries her to the chair, grabbing her towel and wrapping it around her. Carrying her up to their room, he calls Tig to let them know what happened. He puts the phone on speaker as he continues to bustle around, pulling all of her wet clothes off of her. No answer. Slapping the phone shut, he tosses it aside to dry her off with a towel and tugging one of his tee shirts onto her and dragging the three layers of blankets up over her. He dials Tig once more, tucking his piece into the band of his jeans and getting everything packed up. They were leaving. In six hours she’d be the safest she could be at TM and he couldn’t handle her wandering off anymore. Why couldn’t she just listen to him? He paced back and forth until Tig finally answered.

“She’s okay.” Kozik starts, “but one of Weston’s guys tried to drown her.”

“What?” Tig storms.

“She’s fine. Sleeping right now. But I have everything packed and we’re leaving in a few hours. We’re six hours away. I’m gonna get her ready to head out in two hours. I’ll call before we hit the road. Tig I’m sorry. I’ll kill that son of a bitch.” He assures, still pacing.

“Lemme talk to her.” He asks.

“She’s sleeping, man.” He looks to her, eyes closed chest gently rising and falling.

“Kozik.” He warns. Carefully, he shook her shoulder and woke her up.

“Sorry, babygirl. Your pop wants to chat at ya for a minute.” She takes the phone, looking at him with a sad, tired smile.

“Hey, you okay?” Tig asks.

“I’m okay.” Her voice is almost non-existent as she rasps out the words.s

“Good to hear, baby. Kozik wasn’t with you when you went to the pool?” Tig drills her with questions and she starts to hunker into the blankets and drops the phone.

“Hey! She got really scared. What ever you were saying she got so scared, man. Listen, she’s safe. I’ll have her there in eight hours.”

“You better.” He growls. “You’ll be lucky if I even let you patch in after this.”

“Listen man, I don’t even care. As long as I get her back in one piece, I’ll go back to Tacoma.” He assures, clicking shut the phone and looking to her. He finds her staring at him in wonder. “Hey pretty girl, don’t worry. We’ll get you to Tig safely.”

“You come cuddle me?” She gets out, grasping her throat. Grabbing a bottle of water, he holds it gently to her lips, pouring the littlest amount into her mouth. The soothing cool water made her sigh and he crawled under the blankets with her for a second, warming her. “You can’t go to Tacoma. I love you.” She murmurs softly against his chest . He smooths her wet hair as she cuddles closer to him, falling fast asleep.

“Oh baby, I love you too.” He whispers, his heart pounding as she lightly snored.

#imagine #cute imagine #herman kozik imagine #kozik #herman kozik #kozik imagine #kozik oneshot #tigsdaughter!reader #soa #sons of anarchy

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orwocolor · 5 years

Text

Love Thy Neighbour - Chapter Three

Pairing: Gwilym Lee x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Swearing.

Summary: Everyone thinks that you should date someone. You wouldn’t admit it to yourself, but who knows, maybe you agree with them.

Author’s Note: Comments and reblogs are always appreciated :) Check out my masterlist to find the preceding parts. As always, this fic is dedicated to @justgwilym .

You see him the moment you turn the corner and head down the street where the bookshop you work at is situated. Mr Dean has already got a big smile on his face which only grows wider when he spots two cups of coffee from Hazel’s in your hands.

“Hello, Mr Dean!” you call and increase your pace, carefully jogging to the place he stands so as not to spill the coffee.

“Hello, dear! Here let me hold that for you,” he says warmly and reaches for the brown cups.

“Thanks.” You hand them to him gratefully and move to unlock and raise the roller shutter. Opening the door and quickly punching in the code for the alarm to turn off, you enter the shop with Mr Dean on your tail.

Waltzing through the corridors and going about your routine, you retrieve money from the safe, check the cash, turn on the local computer, and open a few windows to let in an early morning breeze. Meanwhile, Mr Dean finds the book he has been recently reading and settles down on a cushioned sofa in the staff room, placing the coffee on a nearby table.

“Late night?” he asks when you finally finish everything that has needed to be taken care of before the first customers will arrive, and crash in a chair next to him.

“Hm?” You take a sip of coffee and give him a puzzled look.

“The dark circle under your eyes?” His finger point to his own skin reminding you of a crumpled piece of paper.

“Ah, this,” you wave your hand dismissively, “it’s nothing. I’ve been to a party, but I came home quite early. Just couldn’t fall asleep, I guess.”

The truth is that your swirling thoughts were keeping you up all night as your mind kept coming back to the party. Your brain played every moment on repeat and every time you recalled the soft touch of Gwilym’s lips on your cheek, the blissful sleep you so much desired was out your reach. In the morning, you rejected all your fantasies and determined not to further occupy your mind with him, attributing everything he had done and said to his perfect gentlemanly behaviour.

There was no way he might have some feelings for you.

“What about you, Mr Dean, how have you been? We haven’t seen each other in a while.” You give him a sad smile. You did truly miss him the past week. Peter, your manager, had become a constant in the bookshop, which was quite unlike him, and you had feared that it boded ill. And with Peter in the shop, Mr Dean knew better than to try his luck. Peter had kicked him out far too many times and at one point, he had even called the police.

Mr Dean proceeds to tell you about his week, his trip to a zoo with grandchildren, his son’s troubles at work, and the lady he started seeing in Hyde Park. It has become their thing to meet there in early mornings and watch squirrels gleefully running across the stripes of grass, hopping on tall trees and occasionally venturing close enough for Mr Dean and his friend to inspect them carefully.

Mr Dean gently puts his hand on yours and lightly pats it. Concern for you is painted all over his face as his brows furrow in a worried manner, only emphasising the sagging eyelids that cover the outer corners of his eyes.

“How about you, my dear? Have you found someone who would make that heart of yours flutter?”

You hate yourself for instantly thinking of your handsome neighbour and you push the image of him in the far back corner of your mind.

“And notice I said ‘someone’ and not ‘a boy’.” That earns him a chuckle from you. You’ve had many discussions in the last three years, and he’s been always more than proud to show you he still remembers everything you have told him.

“Yes, I noticed, and I appreciate it.” You squeeze his hand and after a moment of hesitation, you continue. “But no, there’s no one like that,” you say determinedly and almost make yourself believe your words.

“I hate you,” Jane sniffles loudly into a tissue and wipes her nose clean, shooting daggers at Charlotte, who can’t help but cry too. You are another mess, your eyes red and puffy as you’re sitting with slumped shoulders on Charlotte’s couch.

The title sequence of Sophie’s Choice starts rolling and you clear your throat to compose yourself. It’s been getting late and you have to head to the tube station if you want to get home as soon as possible.

“Y/N?” Charlotte asks tentatively while you start gathering dirty dishes. “You remember Daniel? My colleague I told you about?”

“I remember you mentioning him. What about him?” Truth be told, his name sounds familiar, but you aren’t sure where this conversation is going and don’t have a good feeling about it.

“Well, I told him about you and he would like to go on a date.”

Wait, what?

“Why on earth would he do that?”

“Because you agreed that I could set you up?” The intonation rises in the end, turning the statement into a question.

“It’s true, you did,” Jane intervenes, nodding vehemently and standing next to Charlotte.

“But I don’t want to,” you answer weakly. You look around Charlotte’s living room desperately as if you could find someone who would support you. But neither the couch nor the TV set has your back.

“Why not?” Charlotte presses. “He’s a good guy, you haven’t been dating in ages, and the worst thing that can happen is that you will go on a bad date.”

“Exactly! What are you afraid of?” Jane adds.

Although you haven’t moved in an inch, you feel as if Jane and Charlotte cornered you and gave you no other option.

“Look, I’ll think it through and will let you know, okay? I gotta catch the last tube.” You find your purse and jacket, and with a quick “see you!” thrown over your shoulder, you leave.

As the tube shakes and sways from side to side, you ponder on the things your friends said to you. Jane’s words struck a nerve. Yes, you are afraid. But of what? They were right; it wouldn’t hurt to go on a date or two. So why were you so reluctant to meet with Daniel? What was stopping you?

You are getting a bit dizzy from all the thoughts swirling in your head. With a jerk, the tube stops and snaps you out of the depth of your thoughts. You get home, fix yourself a cup of chamomile tea and fall asleep, emotionally drained.

The last thought you had resonates in your dreams. What was stopping you?

Although you haven’t realised it yet, the answer is waiting right at your door.

The piercing noise of your doorbell yanks you from your deep slumber. You can feel your heart beating loudly in your chest as you pant hard. What the hell is happening?

You rush to the door and without giving it a second thought, you swing it open.

“Y/N!” Gwil cheers when he spots you, his eyes glinting with more than just excitement of seeing you. He shushes himself right afterwards, pressing a finger to his lips as he starts giggling. You take him in. Although he can’t stand still for a minute as he swaggers from side to side, he still looks as if he’s just stepped off a fashion magazine. A surprisingly pristine white shirt is a bit crumpled in the area of his stomach, but his beige striped jacket and dark blue trousers complement the outfit perfectly. His hair is a mess, since he had probably kept running his fingers through it, which you have noticed was a gesture he does quite often.

“Gwil,” you say sternly and put your hands on your hips.

“Y/N,” he answers, mimicking your tone and pursing his lips.

“What are you doing here? Go home!” you hiss and grab him by the lapels of his jacket as he sways on his wobbly legs.

“Y/N!” he cheers again, and you pull him inside, worried that he might wake up the whole building.

“Care to explain why you’re dragging me out of my bed in this ungodly hour? What about your place? It’s right there!” You point in the direction of his flat while Gwil slumps down the wall and plops down on your shoe cabinet.

He answers you but his words turn into a mumble.

“Come again?”

“I said,” he says more clearly, although his words are a bit slurred, his eyebrows contorted in concentration as he tries to make himself sound intelligible, “that the bartender took m’keys. Ican’tgethome.” He gives a loud hiccup and closes his eyes as his head tilts to the side.

For God’s sake! You can’t exactly kick him out. He would probably ring at someone else and it hasn’t been even a month since he moved in.

“What about Ben and Joe? You were with them, right?” you keep interrogating, your arms crossed across your chest.

“I lost them,” he giggles, “they’re so tiny. Nice pyjamas.” His grin grows wider and he boops you on your nose. Then he rests his head against the wall, his eyes closed shut again.

“Okay, up, you’re not sleeping in my hall.” You pull at his long arms and make an attempt to lift him up. “Come on! You gotta help me here.” You pinch his sides, which results in him waking up with a jerk, disorientedly looking around himself.

By joint efforts, you stagger into your living room and move to the couch.

“Okay, try and stand still for a minute.” You let go of him, your hands remaining near his sides as you wait to see whether he can manage to stand straight on his own. He keeps swaying slightly, but other than that he seems fine. You quickly push a few throw pillows on one end of the couch and pull off a soft blanket of a chair.

At that moment, Gwilym loses his balance and crashes into you, his weigh making you almost fall down as well. His beard tickles your shoulder and he sighs heavily against your skin.

“Gwil, stop it, you need to lie down.” You try to push him away from you but it seems as if he slumps against you even more so.

He takes a sharp breath in. “You smell nice,” he whispers against your ear and hums in appreciation.

You freeze. For a fracture of a second, you wish to close your eyes and give in, pretend that this is real.

But he is totally shit-faced.

You give him another hard push and he tumbles down on the couch, hugging the pillows in an instant and snoring.

Great.

You pop out into the bathroom and grab a bucket, placing it on the floor near Gwilym’s head.

“Hey, hey, if you’re sick, there’s a bucket here, okay?” you murmur into his ear and brush the hair that has fallen into his eyes. Grabbing the blanket, you lay it over him and tuck the corners in so that he wouldn't get cold during the night.

“Yeah, mum,” he mumbles in response.

The night couldn’t get any better.

You leave the door to your bedroom opened a crack so that if he needs anything, you can hear him. After a few minutes, the muffled sound of his snoring lulls you back to sleep.

In the morning, you venture out of your bedroom, silently tiptoeing around Gwilym’s sleeping figure, stretched out on the couch, so as not to wake him up. While busying yourself in the kitchen, fetching biscuits and brewing tea and coffee, you hear shuffling in the living room and soft footsteps slowly approaching you.

“Hi,” he says sheepishly, his jacket forgotten in the living room and your blanket wrapped around his body. He has kept his shirt and trousers on, thank God.

“Good morning,” you greet him and notice a pink blush on his cheeks. He winces at the loud sound of your voice, so you continue in a much quieter tone. “What can I get you? Tea, coffee?”

“Coffee, please,” he gives you a small smile and sits down to the kitchen table.

You pour a large mug and place a plate of sweet cookies right in front of him. “The blackest coffee in London,” you announce as you hand him the mug.

He grasps the mug in his hands, smelling the strong aroma, and takes a big gulp, probably burning his tongue in the process based on the way he pulls a face.

“Careful,” you warn and sit at the opposite side of the table, cradling your own tea and enjoying the way the hot liquid warms your fingers through the porcelain.

Gwil blows at the black liquid and takes another sip. You remain silent, waiting for him to say something. And after a few minutes, he finally does.

“Okay, I’m ready. I can take the truth now. Tell me what I did.”

“What do you remember?” you ask, unsure where to begin.

“I went out with Ben and Joe, for the bar crawl.” You nod in acknowledgement and let him continue. “I remember the first three bars, then it gets all blurry. I drank a lot…”

“You said the bartender had taken your keys,” you suggest, hopeful that might ring any bells.

“Oh, yes, he did! Fuck, I need to get there and retrieve them.” He makes a move to stand up but you stop him.

“Wait, wait, the bar won’t probably be opened yet. Do you know which one it was? Maybe we could google it and give them a call. Why did he take them, anyway?” That is a question that's been burning you since yesterday’s night.

“I guess he thought I would try to drive home, so he rather took them from me.” He makes a pause as he contemplates about everything that happened. Suddenly, his eyes widen and he fixes them on you. “But what happened here. What did I say, what did I do?”

“You were good, don’t worry about it.” You wave dismissively and rise to put away your cup.

“No, it’s not good. Wait, I–” he glances up at you in horror as a distant memory crosses his mind. “Tell me I didn’t sniff you!”

You busy yourself at the kitchen sink, rinsing the dishes.

“Well..”

He wails into his mug, wincing right afterwards.

“It’s good, really, it’s fine." You make a quick a turn and see him desperately slumping over his coffee, his ears burning red. You don't mean to make things worse, but you really want to divert the focus of the conversation from the image of Gwil burrowing his nose into the place between your neck and shoulder, which you still so vividly remember. "The cherry on top was when you called me your mum, though.”

Hiding his face in his hands, he makes a desperate sound. Partly pitying him and admittedly having fun, you close the distance between you and pry his fingers from his pretty face; it is a shame to hide it.

“Like I said, everything’s fine.” You run your fingers through his hair, tucking it behind his ear and leaving your hand there as your eyes gaze into his, a sincere smile on your face.

Without breaking the eye contact, he brings his hand to yours and wraps his fingers around your wrist, his thumb gently running over the soft skin.

“Thank you,” he whispers earnestly. “How can I ever repay you for what you’ve done for me.”

“I’ll think of something,” you say and the corners of his lips rise. “But we’re neighbours. I’m pretty sure I’m gonna ask you to do me a favour rather sooner than later.”

And you do, exactly five days later.

Tag List: @geek-and-proud

#gwilym lee x reader #gwilym lee imagine #gwilym lee fluff #gwilym lee fic #multichapter #fluff #vee writes #*mine

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darthstitch · 5 years

Text

10 Random Headcanons About Mr. Hart and Mr. Unwin

1. "It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a certain senior Knight newly crowned as Arthur, must be in want of a Guinevere."

The above piece of wisdom was delivered by one Roxy Morton, a.k.a. Lancelot, complete with a rather Significant Look directed at Eggsy Unwin a.k.a. Galahad.

Eggsy's response was an equally eloquent: "Sod off." Also, he was blushing so hard that Harry even noticed it after he walked into the room five minutes later. Which prompted a completely awkward (and adorable, according to Roxy) exchange that consisted of Harry fussing and Eggsy getting all the more flustered, not helped by the fact that at some point, Harry actually called him: "my dear," seemingly by accident. Harry called for tea and Eggsy had to sit through the rest of the Round Table meeting hiding behind a mug of chamomile and scones.

2. Tristan might be a badass assassin who doted on his dog and could easily kill a dozen men with a dull pencil, but he was also interested in crafts and had a puckish sense of humor. He gifted a framed, cross-stitched version of Roxy's quote to Eggsy. Eventually, Eggsy did end up hanging the damn thing in his own office. This was long, long after Eggsy could finally get over the initial abject horror and sheer mortification that John fuckin' Wick had noticed Eggsy's hopeless affections for Harry Hart.

3. It gets worse. EVERYONE actually saw that Eggsy was arse over tits for Harry Hart. "There, there, lad," Merlin told him much, much later, when they'd finally sorted themselves out. "Actually, everyone else had also noticed that he was equally besotted with you."

"Oi," was Harry's reaction to that, in a very deadpan, accurate imitation of Eggsy's accent.

4. Eggsy's "posh" voice gets any number of reactions when he has occasion to use it. His mates have all died of laughter when they've heard him use it in the shop. His mum is also not immune to the giggles, but only because, as she's remarked, "It suits you, Eggsy-boy." Originally, it was a beautiful, dead-on impersonation of Harry himself. These days, when Eggsy slips into that accent, every syllable crisp, cold, and clear, he can actually be terrifying. This is how Galahad takes command of half a dozen Knights in order to go rescue their King and how he even gets Merlin to snap to attention.

5. What most people don't know is that Harry is equally capable of taking on Eggsy's chav accent. The following exchange was recorded for posterity:

Harry: Ah, yer th'guvna, Merlin. Fanks.

Merlin: You're welcome, Galahad.

Harry: S'Arfur, now, innit?

Merlin: ...

Eggsy: *in the background, giggling*

Merlin: Arthur?

Harry: Yeh, bruv?

Merlin: Don't ever do that to me again.

Eggsy: *loses it completely*

6. Harry Hart, of course, spent some time privately agonizing over the fact that he'd gone and fallen for a man half his age. He'd ruefully thought to himself that if he HAD to go through the obligatory "mid-life crisis" he figured that living the life of a Kingsman would have sorted all that out. But no, he had to go arse over teakettle for one beautiful, brave, bright young man who deserved to have the world laid at his feet. Harry was a gentleman of honor and he was quietly prepared to never openly speak of his feelings. If he could have Eggsy in his life as a very dear friend, then Harry would count himself fortunate. If he could have that familiar voice call him " 'Arry" and laugh and tease and generally be the impertinent, mischief-making, cheeky darling that he was, Harry would be content.

(Merlin has heard all this and had to pour himself a very stiff drink, prior to banging his head on his desk because, OH FOR FUCK'S SAKE, HARRY ARTHUR FITZWILLIAM HART.)

7. Harry had quickly become wrapped around the tiny, sticky fingers of little Daisy Unwin from the moment they were introduced. Daisy adored her 'Arry and immediately demanded to be picked up and even Eggsy couldn't completely pry her away, at least until she'd finally fallen asleep with her head on his shoulder, one little hand fisted around Harry's tie. Thus, Harry soon became a regular at tea parties, helped Daisy dress her dolls and also helped her invent fanciful adventures for the dolls to go on, involving kings and dashing knights and dragons and princesses.

8. It was Daisy, actually, who'd managed to finally drive home some very important truths.

"I wuv you, 'Arry."

"I love you too, poppet."

"Eggy wuvs 'Arry too. Wilf you marry Eggy, 'Arry?"

Harry's normally brilliant brain had temporarily gone offline at that innocent question but he must've sputtered out some suitable answer: (Perhaps if Eggsy says yes... / O'course 'e will, 'Arry! Eggy wuvs you muchly!) And right on the heels of that, Harry had heard Eggsy respond in this broken, ragged tone that Harry dearly hoped he would never hear again:

"Eggsy would say 'Yes' - that is, if Harry would only ask."

Needless to say, the two idiots eventually managed to bring Daisy back to her Mum, so that they could have a private talk that involved several heartfelt confessions, kisses and other interesting things best left to the imagination.

No, Merlin, Harry and Eggsy absolutely did not end up defiling the Round Table. Why on earth would they do that when there was a perfectly acceptable bedroom?

In any case, the above incident had convinced Merlin that Daisy might well be a worthy "Morgana" to take his place one day.

9. After Harry and Eggsy, in their friends' own words, "finally got their respective heads out of their arses and sorted their shite out," Eggsy has observed that Harry is apparently incapable of at least going one day without addressing Eggsy by some sort of endearment or the other. "My dear" used to slip out quite accidentally, back when they were both mutually pining, which pretty much confirmed everyone else's suspicions about Harry's real feelings. These days, Eggsy will often hear Harry call him "darling" or "dearest" and it never fails to make him blush and feel all warm inside.

Of course, Eggsy has his own endearments and calling Harry "love" or referring to him as "my Harry" never fails to bring out the smile that Eggsy loves the most, the sweet, shy smile that will eventually give way to the one with the dimples.

10. In the wake of the former Arthur's treachery and the clear weaknesses he had in running Kingsman, Harry as Arthur took a different approach in rebuilding and making sure that changes for the better were made. Going out on missions was one of those changes. "Code Excalibur" became an official thing when it became patently clear that while Arthur and Galahad were already deadly working by themselves, they were absolutely lethal when working together. Of course, this was only invoked in missions where basically the fate of the world was at stake.

The most epic case in which a Code Excalibur was invoked happened during what should have been just a simple intelligence gathering mission that the trainees would be watching from the feeds in Merlin's office. Up to this point, the trainees had not realized that the apparently senior Knight known as "Harry" who so often shamelessly flirted with Agent Galahad and regularlymanaged to wipe the floor with the more arrogant trainees, was actually Arthur himself. Somehow, explosions, potential doomsday weapons and Arthur and Galahad being magnificently badass together happened, at which point Merlin just gave up and called the rest of the Knights in to help.

(Merlin: God help my sanity)

#hartwin #harry hart/eggsy unwin #harry hart #eggsy unwin #kingsman #harry hart is fitzwilliam darcy as a gentleman spy #daisy unwin #john wick #is a kingsman #you will pry that headcanon from my cold dead paws #i crack what i want #i regret nothing

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holidaywishes · 5 years

Text

First Date

Requested: 👍

Summary: First date in Prague during the off season when Jakub is spending time with his family.

Author’s Note: I’m sorry if this is too short but it’s kinda cute... I had no idea Vrana was from Prague and it is my all time favourite city so I totally had to add Prague into this. Fun fact! I actually had my first kiss in Prague so it’s near and dear to my heart. Thanks for the request anon!

masterlist

You and your friends had been walking around Old Towne Prague for about two hours being as touristy as you could before stepping into a small café to rest.

“Are you glad you came back?” Your friend, Shauna, asked after ordering a shot of Slivovice

“Oh my god, I love it here!” you cooed before scrunching your nose up at her as she shot the Plum Brandy, “that was the only thing I was never a fan of”

“It’s a national drink or whatever,” Shauna laughed and offered you a drink, “do as the locals do (Y/N)...” you shook your head and tried to protect your face as Taylor and the other girls inched the alcohol closer to your face, making you burst into a loud fit of laughter.

“It won’t hurt you,” your best friend, Elizabeth, said, “it’ll probably actually be better for you than that stupid Pepsi you drink...” you scoffed and Tanya was the last to speak

“Plus, it’s the cheapest choice because there’s so many versions of it...”

“I mean...” you laughed, clearly caving in, and took the glass from your friends, “Na zdraví.” Just then, the door swung open and you heard a chorus of laughter from the group that entered but your eyes fell to the blonde with the bright smile.

“Whoa...” you accidentally whispered aloud, earning small giggles from the girls around you. He wasn’t tearing his eyes away from you either and you wondered if he’d come over to you or if he’d eventually just leave without ever having said anything. Elizabeth snapped you back to the table, asking if you wanted anything to eat before you went to explore the city a bit more

“Or really before we head out to Zlaty Strom tonight. You know we’re going crazy tonight right?” she teased and you rolled your eyes before answering

“I’m fine, I’ll be okay. Maybe I’ll take a nap to handle everyone’s crazy...”

“Zlaty Strom huh?” the blonde that you’d locked eyes with earlier said as he squeezed in beside you and Tanya, “not Karlovy Lazne?”

“Can’t say we didn’t consider it,” Shauna started, “but our host told us to stay far away from it...”

“Good idea, it’s a bit of a.. mess in there,” he laughed before turning to you, “I’m Jakub by the way” he held out his hand to you and your heart fluttered before eventually giving him yours gently

“(Y/N), nice to meet you”

“Why don’t we take you ladies out for the local Prague experience?” Jakub said, rather closely, to you bringing a flash of heat to your cheeks. You usually waited for your friends to answer in case you were being tricked but your body took over your mouth; you leaned into Jakub slightly and agreed. He introduced his Mom and Dad to you and your friends before heading out to do some sightseeing. It wasn’t long though before you and Jakub fell back to talk and flirt and get to know each other more.

“So.. what brings you to Prague?” he asked

“It’s our last summer before we finish our degree and I came here two years ago and fell in love with it. So I convinced the girls to make the trip”

“What were you here for two years ago?”

“Study abroad semester” you said plainly

“Nice, so you speak Czech?”

“Oh, gosh no! Sorry,” you laughed, “I was studying in London and I was able to pop out here for a weekend”

“Ahh I see,” he replied and you felt, for a second, that may have somehow ruined the rhythm you had with him but he nudged you, making a smile creep on your lips, “have lunch with me.” It sounded like a demand but it was soft enough that you knew it was a request

“It’s a little late for lunch” you teased

“Tomorrow. You’ll need to replenish after tonight”

“I’ll be very hungover I’m sure” you joked, raising your eyebrows at him

“What better way to have lunch with a stranger?” You agreed not too much later after that because you wanted to spend as much time with him as you could; listen to his stories, hear his laugh, see his smile, feel his touch... Your mind started to wander and your body started to drift closer and closer to his until your friends stole you away to run back to the Air B’n’B to get ready for the club.

Your head was pounding and you couldn’t remember when you stopped drinking or how you got back to the apartment. All you knew was that you needed to take a shower because you had a date in two hours. You ran around the apartment frantically but your friends never woke up, even when you were leaving. So, you left a note on each of their faces via post-it and headed out to the restaurant Jakub told you to meet him at.

As you hopped on the train, your stomach began to flutter and you wondered what would happen. As soon as you got there, you took a deep breath and looked around to see if you could find him; there he was, fixing his collar before he saw you, a giant smile replacing his nervous expression.

“Hi” you greeted, giving him a small, uncertain hug

“How’s the hangover?” he asked, still smiling

“It’s.. okay” you tried, sitting down and immediately ordering chamomile tea. The conversation started flowing once the food came and you watched as his eyes lit up when he talked about playing for the Capitals, following his lips as he laughed about funny childhood stories, and completely entranced by the way he actually seemed to listen to you when you spoke. It wasn’t until your phone rang that you even realized how long the two of you had been sitting at the table

“Oh my god! It’s almost 10 o’clock. We’ve been here for like 6 hours...”

“I’m surprised they didn’t kick us out,” he said and you nodded, gesturing for the two of you to leave, “can I drive you home?” you contemplated just saying no, to end the date with a kiss and no possibility of anything more happening; after all, you had no idea when you were going to see him again. But when you looked into his eyes, you couldn’t help feeling like a couple more minutes with him could mean the world to you so you agreed. When you got to the building where you were staying, you sat in his car for a second before awkwardly telling him that you should probably go

“This is where I’m staying so...” he laughed, getting out of the car before walking over to your door and leading you out. The ride up the elevator was the quietest either of you had been all night. As if both of you were expecting something that you weren’t sure how to address. And then, there you were. Standing outside the door to your Air B’n’B. Almost positive that if your friends were awake and still there, they’d be listening to every word.

“I had fun today” he blurted out quickly just as you were getting ready to say something

“Me too,” you said in return, laughing softly, “I really liked getting to know you, Jakub”

“I liked getting to know you, (Y/N)...” you noticed him take a small step toward you and a shiver ran up your spine, forcing you to fall into him unintentionally. His hands started running up your arms and his lips brushed your cheeks as you turned to look at him. There was only a moment of contemplation before your lips connected with Jakub’s and your body felt like it might just topple over on itself, or into him, but he didn’t seem to mind. It was a deep kiss but it was contained -- very different from the kisses you’d had in the past. He directed your movements as meticulously as he directed his hands across your skin, making your mind go completely blank. When his lips drifted to his neck, you were surprised by the words that left your mouth

“Wanna come inside?” it wasn’t like you, to say the least, to invite a boy in after the first date but you couldn’t help yourself. When he nodded slowly, as if to check you were sure, you turned to unlock the door and you felt him move the hair off your neck to lay soft kisses behind your ear and you knew that, even if your friends were there, you wouldn’t stop to say hello.

After all, you had no idea when you were going to see him again...

#Jakub Vrana #Fluff #NHL Fluff #Jakub Vrana Fluff #Masterlist #Requested #send me your asks #send me your requests #Y'all #I know what the locals say about it #but if you wanna have a good time #especially as a tourist #hit up Karlovy Lazne #at least once #it's five levels of a good time

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robinmagik · 6 years

Text

Not A Minute Wasted (part 2)

A/N: HA-HA! I’m back with this story! I’m like in a love hate relationship with this story tbh. Anyway, thank you guys for waiting!!! There is going to be a third part of Not A Minute Wasted, so I hope you guys enjoy this one. I’ll post the other part later at nite or soon. Dunno but it WILL be posted today. If you want to be tagged just comment in the thingy, yknow :)

Part One Part Three Final

Tags: @poemfreak306

Recap: Y/n looks down the darkness and takes one step in and the clock closes. She cusses. Great, Bruce Wayne is like a low-key dungeon freak or worse he murders people and this is his murder dungeon. The worst thoughts were running through her mind. She got down the long stair case and to her surprise she sees a whole lotta shit; Robin costumes, old Batman costumes, bat-mobiles, and weapons. Then she sees the bat-computer. Okay so, Bruce is a huge Batman fan or Batman lives in Bruce’s basement, what? “Alfred, are you there?” It was Bruce’s voice but more deeper and rougher.

“What the fu—’’

“Oh dear,” Alfred gasps.

Y/n turns around, looking at him with wide eyes and a gaped mouth.

“Alfred.” Batman repeats.

“Miss Y/n, there is a perfectly good explication for this.”

“I don’t think so,” She says. “OooooooooooohhhhhmyGod! Ohhohohohoho God!”

“If you give me a moment, I will try my best to answer your questions.” He rushes to the bat computer. There was no way out of this. It was practically too late to drug her and make her believe it was a dream. He responds. “Yes, Master Bruce?”

“Prepare some chamomile tea and sandwiches.”

“I take it patrol went well?”

“Yes, it did.” He says. “Y/n is still sleeping?”

“Oh no, she is very much wide awake.” Alfred emphasizes. He glances at her to see that Y/n is still with the face of shock. “I must apologize, Master Bruce but she knows.”

“Knows what, Pennyworth? You have to be less vague.” Damian says.

“What’s Damian doing there?!” Y/n finally spoke—more like shouted.

Silence.

“Hello?!” Y/n slams her fist on the button. “No me vas a respondar o que?!”

“Alfr—“

“Oh, no, papi! He’s soooo not gonna save you now!” She laughs a little bit too manically. She is practically loosing her mind. How wouldn’t?!

Batman grunts, he clears his throat, knowing that he very much fucked up or at least the universe did but he didn’t believe in that type of stuff. He fucked up. Somehow. And this fuck up does not benefit him at all.

“We’ll talk when we get home.” He says, his voice didn’t show how rattled he was. He hangs up and she tries to get him back but nothing.

She sighs, dropping her head in defeat. “I wanna go for a ride.”

“Miss Y/n why don’t we go into the kitchen. I’ll make you some lavender tea, yes?”

She looks up and crosses her arms across her chest. For a moment she hesitates and then agrees with a nod. Alfred was still Alfred, nothing has changed. Bruce is Batman and Damian…who was—Robin. That makes sense. It all started making sense. She didn’t know what to think but she knew what she felt; turned on and a little bit worried for Bruce’s well being, not only that but Damian too. He’s just a kid after all.

She sits on the counter, Alfred doesn’t tell her to sit on a chair this time, and she just watches him prepare tea and sandwiches.

“Isn’t it bad to eat late at night?” She asks.

She is a bit more calmer now. He smiles softly and nods; “Yes but you know how Master Bruce is. Quiet stubborn.”

“Very.” She chuckles.

There was silence again. The scent of chamomile and lavender help ease the tension.

“Is—being Batman is…dangerous business, huh?” She asks. “No wonder he’s got all those scars on that body of his. Idiot told me that he’s had ridiculous accidents like golfing accidents and that he’s just clumsy.”

Alfred hands her the cup of lavender tea.

“Thanks. And I guess him being Batman makes sense. His eyes are too intense to be a dumb, playboy billionaire. They give him away.” She continues talking. “I’m not mad at him. I still like him as Bruce Wayne or Batman or whoever he is. I like him.”

“And here I thought you would’ve broken up with him, Miss Y/n.”

She gasps dramatically and pretends to be offended. “Alfred! Then you don’t know me that well!” Then she giggles. “Hey, I have my own secret nights in Gotham too. Except that…Bruce knows those nights. He even came to watch.”

“Then you should ask him to watch those nights of his. Behind the scenes, of course.”

“Of course. If he lets me stay, y’know, now that I know.”

The roar of the engine bounces off the walls of the cave. Surprisingly enough to Y/n the bats didn’t stir. Now, when Batman got off that bat mobile, she came this close to pounce on him and dragging him to the bedroom in cowl and all. Dear God, she began, thank you? Her voice cracks within her thoughts. Then there was Damian, the cutest Robin of them all, glaring a hole into her head, boy, did that kid hate her. She shrugs to herself and turns back to Batman who was walking towards her getting ready to explain himself but she rushed up to him and kissed his lips.

“I’ll be upstairs, Batman.” She grins.

When she was gone, he glances at Alfred who smiles at him.

“It is rude to keep a lady waiting, Master Bruce. Have I taught you nothing?”

That was a fateful night. He didn’t eat his sandwich but he sure as shit ate her pussy. After that they had a long conversation, well, not too long. Bruce may invade your privacy but not the other way around. There was a whole Bat-family behind him despite the fact that he says; ‘I work alone,’ in that Batman voice. He’s a loner who can’t deal with loneliness.

Y/n loves this man who is full of contradictions. Though, he knows that such a happy relationship doesn’t last, at least not for him. Bruce is always prepared for the bad things to come, always kept an eye on her whenever she went out late at night or when she worked at the club. This overwhelmed Y/n so she would lash out at him like a child and then break up with him and then the next day or so she’d run back to him. And much to his displeasure, he waited. He didn’t know why he waited. Bruce didn’t like to be pulled back and forth. It was either black or white. We’re done or we’re together. That’s it. But with her, he wanted to see where this ended because it seemed like it would never end. He was never going to say it—he is bad at communication—but he could feel himself fall for her more and more everyday and he even tried his best to hide it from himself. Though she is complicated and he does love a challenge.

There were those moments when he has those grouchy asshole days—its everyday but there are worse days—and it made the tension between them hot and ugly. A day like that would be hell at the manor.

She wasn’t living with him despite the fact that he asked her to. She said no and that was that. Though she stayed over mostly even on his bad days. Y/n would make sure that if an argument was going to start, Damian was nowhere to be found. She couldn’t argue with Bruce with Damian there. Her parents never fought in front of her so why would she do that to his kid?

She came into his office and sat on his desk with her legs crossed over and a magazine in her hand.

“According to this survey, most people agree you are, in fact, a gigantic asshole.” Y/n said.

Bruce grunted. There was glaring but a sexual tension that could be felt a mile away. He took her right then and there and she’d giggle, knowing that she riled him up.

Angry sex was common yet he was delicate somehow. He would sneak in a soft kiss or two before hungrily eating her up. Either way, she’d take him away from whatever was troubling his mind and make him take a bubble bath with her. He’d rest on her chest as she washed his hair.

“Why do you put up with me?” She hums as gently massages his scalp. “I’m a horrible mess. If you were like any other man, you’d be crying by now because I’m so horrible. I’m so mean.”

“I’ve seen horrible every night, Y/n. You don’t begin to measure up to it.”

“Yeah, I know but I mean like horrible girl standard? I guess?” She didn’t know how to put it.

“Hmm, yeah, I’d say you’re a pretty horrible girl.”

“Hey! You’re not supposed to agree.” She pouts.

He chuckles. “And you know, I’m not like any other man but even so, no one can handle you.”

“Guess you hate that. After all, you are a bit of a control freak.” She paused and then glanced at him with a mischievous grin. “Do I scare you?”

“No.”

“Liar.” She whispers into his hair.

He kissed her hand and they rest there for a while until it was time to get out because their skin would get wrinkly. There were mornings where she laid in bed naked and he was in a suit getting ready for a meeting after his last nights work. There was no point in begging him to stay, to stop overworking himself because then both of their tempers would get the best of them. It was obvious they didn’t work well together but they made it work. Y/n was as frustrating as he was but not as naive. Bruce would kiss her bare shoulder and she’d kiss his chin and then he left. She looks at the time on her phone, two hours before work, she’ll take his motorcycle and make it in time.

Except, this was a bad morning though. Her emotions were everywhere and if you’d look at her in anyway type of way, she’d cry. Bruce left. Y/n was on the bed, naked, the warm sunlight danced across her skin, and she sniffled. She didn’t want to go to work. Maybe becoming his wife wouldn’t be so bad, she thought. No, that’d be a horrible marriage because I’m a horrible girl. And he’s a good person. He’s such a good person. Y/n began to touch herself. Bruce is so good. Oh, Bruce. Please, punish me. I’ve been a bad girl. Her fingers slipped in and she began to pump her fingers in and out of her wet pussy. I love y—Her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she came. She moaned into the pillow, her body went limp, and she fell asleep for twenty minutes. Y/n was still sad. Masterbating didn’t take away that sadness that was bubbling in the pit of her stomach.

She drags herself out of bed, took a shower, got dressed, and slowly walked down the long halls.

Damian is in a black turtle neck and gray slacks. He looked a lot like his father but way more adorable.

“Morning.” She says softly.

“L/n.” He states. “We have to speak.”

“Hm? ‘Bout?” She walks into the kitchen and pours herself a cup of orange juice.

“My father clearly likes you and you him.”

“Yes, we do.”

“Yet you and him fight a lot. I do not think that is good for father nor for you.” He is slowly getting to the point. “It’s not my business what happens but because my father’s well being—oh.”

He stops dead in his tracks when he sees tears forming in her eyes. They rolled down her cheeks and she begins to cry.

“What?” She whispers. “Y-you’ve heard us fight?”

“Y-yes…the manor may be large but it isn’t difficult to avoid you both.”

“I’m so sorry, Damian. I didn’t mean for you to hear us,”

“That’s not…please stop crying, L/n.” He didn’t know what to do.

“Excuse me.” She sniffles. “W-we’ll continue this conversation…I just gotta…go.”

Tim was going to greet her but she passes by quickly. He turns to glare at Damian who was confused himself.

“What did you do?”

“Nothing, Drake. Excuse me.”

Tim is left alone in the kitchen with an empty cup in his hand.

“What in the hell?”

*Kill Bill sirens play* What will happen? Will Damian make her cry even more? Will his father aka Bruce Wayne aka Batman beat his ass for making his girlfriend cry? Will Tim Drake have his cup of coffee in peace for once? Who knows? Until next time....which will be soon.

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orionwhispers · 6 years

Text

Devil Like Me (Part III)

(A/N Hey guys!Here is Part III, hope you enjoy it! I had so much fun writing it and great plans for the next few chapters. My inbox is always open!)

Then

Coincidentally, the next time you saw him was Halloween. The night was dark, a deep ebony black seeping into the town. Candlelit pumpkins and decorative skeletons lined the streets, but you were feeling anything but festive. A few weeks had passed since Sarah’s death, but it still played in your mind like a horror movie.

Before everything happened, you had plans for this evening, a costume party held by a boy in the year above. You and Jasmine had spent the past months finding the perfect costume, scouring eBay to find items that matched your “Buffy and Willow” ensemble. How entirely ironic.

You bailed on the night, making up something about late essays and angry teachers. Your friend understood, pretending she believed you, but you knew that she felt pity for you. You must have seemed crazy. She was the one to find you, hovering over Sarah’s corpse covered in her blood, whimpering about a demon-like beast.

That wasn’t the only reason you stayed home. Aunt Jean wasn’t well, for as long as you had known her she had been sick, but she was getting worse and your episode surely didn’t help. She was ghastly white, almost translucent, and she was becoming much thinner, you could see the outline of her skeleton every time she moved. Despite her protests, you tended to her to the best of your ability, and now after a hot bath, she was tucked into bed with a freshly brewed mug of chamomile tea.

You wandered around the small house quietly, climbing up the stairs to your bedroom in the attic. Woolly socks slipping on the pine floors. You finally settled into your bed, cradling a bowl of buttered popcorn and the cat, Maple snoozing in your lap. Thoughts scrambling through your brain like lightning bolts, you shuffled around. Far too distracted to relax to the old Wes Craven movie flickering on the T.V in front of you.

The house was freezing despite your blanket, sending shivers down your body, the ancient grandfather clock in the hallway ticked meticulously and branches on the trees outside scraped on the bay windows like nails on a chalkboard. You’d lived here almost your entire life, but the old house still spooked you, the floorboards creaking and the boiler rattling, not to mention the constant water dribbling from the taps no matter how tight they were screwed shut.

Small candles gave a soft glow in the dark and you settled deeper into your cushions, eyelids growing heavy. Maple had leapt off of you now and was perched on the windowsill waiting to catch sight of any birds. You had only started to drift off when a loud screech made you jump out of your skin.

“Maple,” You groaned batting a hand towards the tabby cat who was pawing at the window. Her fur was raised and she was hissing, something very unlike the gentle girl you had had since a kitten. You reluctantly crawled out of bed, wincing as the cool air hit your bare shoulders and reached for the distressed feline.

“Its ok baby,” You murmured holding her against your chest, but she wriggled ferociously causing you to drop her on the floor and watch her crawl under the bed. “What has gotten into you?” You muttered rubbing the sore scratches on your forearm.

“There’s nothing out there…” You began, voice trailing off as you reluctantly peered out of the window into the night. The trees were spiked, menacing looking, casting shadows across the lawn, but they were by far the least terrifying.

Stood directly in your line of sight was him. He looked entirely human, although you knew that wasn’t true, you knew you should be terrified and half of your body wanted to run back into the protection of your bed, crawling under the sheets until morning. Instead, you stayed, breathing growing heavy as you stared directly at him holding his gaze, almost as a challenge. He stared back, making your stomach coil but something was keeping you there, both of you watching the other, an unspoken communication between you. His lips turned up into a smirk, and again he was gone, leaving you gasping for air.

Now

Sunlight streamed into your eyes and you groaned pulling the covers over yourself and turning onto your side. For a moment you forgot where you were, your mind so scrambled with sleep you assumed you were back in the cottage about to start another shift at the diner. Realisation slowly sunk in and you sat up, trying to mentally prepare yourself for whatever the day would bring.

Before you had even fully stirred, you heard the locks on the door sliding, and a tall man you didn’t recognise towering over you from the foot of the bed.

“Morning Y/N, I trust you slept well?” he asked handing you a bowl of chocolate cereal, your favourite.

You gave him a weak smile, stirring the flakes into a milky mush. “Fine thank you, but probably better if I knew where I was. Will Elijah be joining me anytime today?”

He sighed crossing his arms “They both had to attend to some business, I’m sure Elijah will answer any inquiries you have later."

"Did Klaus tell you not to answer my questions?” you asked quirking your brow.

He gave you a small smirk, “He said you were very bright. Have a pleasant morning Y/N."

"How long will he keep me locked up like this?” You asked, but he just gave you a hesitant smile and closed the door behind him.

Your fingers trailed down the spine of the book you had picked up from the dresser, your mind was too active to read it but flicking through the pages was a welcome distraction. You were lounging on an armchair by the window- one you hadn’t smashed- peering into the distance hoping it would give you some insight as to where you were located, but all you could see was a manicured garden surrounded by trees.

“It’s called Mystic Falls.”

“Elijah.” You smiled at the suit wearing Original.

“Sorry I kept you waiting, we had some issues to negotiate.”

“It’s fine really.”

He strode towards you, sitting on the edge of the windowsill.

“So Mystic Falls huh?”

“Yes, in Virginia. I think you’ll like it.”

You nodded, still fingering the pages of the old book before Elijah reached forward and steadied your shaking hands.

“What kind of trouble is he in now Lij?”

“He can handle himself."

"Well, where is he?”

“He’s sorting out a situation, I don’t know when he’ll be back.”

You scoffed, folding your arms and got to your feet.

“So this is the plan huh? He doesn’t want me to leave but he won’t come and talk to me? This is bullshit!”

Elijah rubbed his forehead and gestured for you to step towards him, “Let’s go for a walk."

You quirked a brow, "Is that allowed?”

“I don’t know about you, but I think we both have a lot to catch up with from over the past two years. Besides, no matter what Klaus might think, he isn’t always right."

"Believe me, I know”

The air was so refreshing against your skin, old boots crunching on the leaves as you both strolled around the garden. Elijah knew you well, you already liked Mystic Falls, despite not even leaving the residence. The garden itself was beautiful, lined with manicured hedges and bushes of red and white roses all centring a great glimmering pond.

You cringed thinking back to your initial attempt at escape. When Elijah had unlocked the door, he informed you that Klaus had a witch hex the entire house. That meant that if you had bashed in the door, you wouldn’t have even made it past the hallway. You had to awkwardly wait whilst Elijah demanded she undid the spell temporarily, but you were grateful for all the trouble he was going to.

“How are Kol and Rebekah?” You asked as you both strode through the damp grass.

“Klaus removed Kol’s dagger, something he’s very grateful for. Rebekah has some issues to sort out, but you should see her soon, I believe Klaus has plans for some sort of ball.”

You awkwardly nod toying with the sleeves of the oversized sweater you had been leant.

“I’m guessing there is trouble in Mystic Falls? Wherever there’s trouble, the Mikaelsons are not far behind.”

He chuckles, rubbing his hands together “You’re not wrong my dear, but its nothing for you to worry about. C'mon, lets head back inside. I’m rather cold, aren’t you?”

You link your small arm with his and hold him back for a second “Thank you Lij, I really missed you.”

He smiled graciously and you knew he felt the same.

“You were under strict orders to not let her out of the house, are you bloody incompetent?"

You and Elijah shared a grimace as you headed to the French doors leading to the foyer, already knowing whose voice that belonged to.

"I don’t think I can do this.” you murmured rubbing your sweaty palms together, your breath quickening.

“Let me calm him down, just follow me,” Elijah muttered rubbing his forehead, you were certain he was suffering from migraines just thinking about the situation.

“For God’s sake, she could be anywhere by now, if you don’t find her soon. I will start ripping out hearts.” You could hear his voice, so distinguishable against all the commotion and you couldn’t help the clench in your chest.

“Klaus, Elijah was the one who let her out, we were just following his orders..”

“The only person you listen to is me! Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes."

The mansion was large, light and welcoming but you couldn’t have felt more trapped.Elijah gave you a comforting smile before striding towards the lounge, his heavy frame hiding you from sight.

"Oh, there he is! Elijah, would you mind telling me what in the hell you thought you were doing letting Y/N out?”

“Calm down brother,” The older sibling began, you stayed tucked behind him. Terrified that if you saw the man you had betrayed all those years ago that your walls would come crumbling down.

“Calm down? Calm down? Do you have any idea what hell I’ve been through looking for her? I won’t let you ruin it.”

“She’s not a dog, Niklaus. You cant keep her trapped here like one.”

“Well I obviously can’t trust her by herself can I?”

That one hurt.

Hands shaking and body twitching, you realised that it was now or never, time to finally face your demons. You took a step to the side, and three heads snapped up towards you, you lifted your eyes from the floor to the man you had spent so long trying to forget. He was staring back at you, reminiscent of all those years ago when you were a naive teenager, gazing at those eyes through the window pane of your small bedroom. He was as beautiful as ever, a work of art worth millions more than all the sculptures and sketches in this house combined. Your eyes were glassy as they met his curly hair and pale skin, plump pink lips you used to kiss until you were dizzy. Everything came rushing back, and you had to try to gulp it all down, not wanting him to know that he was still your biggest weakness. Despite your whole body shaking with nerves, you gathered up as much courage as you could muster.

“Hello, Klaus.”

#klaus imagine #klaus mikaelson #tvd imagine #the originals imagine #tvd #the originals #imagine #klaus fic

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mikhailsbluecarnation-blog · 6 years

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Us, alone under this blossom (Arthur’s side

( not historical asakiku fanfic for @piiess and @aquamoon33 @homoshima www, I just want to give it)

Arthur took off his maroon red cape and his dirty white shirt, revealing his pure milk colored skin on his shoulder, he walked and put those on his mahogany wood-made chair. He took off his shoes and lied down on his bed that he had not touch for a month or two.

“I miss him, Kiku Honda..” He stretched his arm, covering any dim lights that have escaped from candles, prevent those from reaching his cloudy green eyes. A soft and yet cold light came from outside. It was light from the moon, he got up on his sore and tired feet and moved his hand to open those curtain that prevented him looking at outside.

“Fantastic, this gloomy black sky painted with stars and beautiful moon. Like the day when I first meet you, I wish you were here. This is my fault for leaving you...”. Arthur opened these beautiful and fragile large windows made of glass framed with iron black roses. He took a breath deeply and sighed, “I wish you never made deal with Ivan or Yao yet, we could be together, even for a day!” He pouted while making his chamomile tea, “I feel damn wasted”

“Hey Arthur! Got a sec?” Alfred slammed open his door, without a knock as he always did. “Got a sec? oi” He walked, then bumped his new ally’s head, “I know it has been years since I met you, or even talk.”, His blue eyes showed cheerfulness and trust on his new ally whom he familiar with. Arthur pinched his cheek, “Oh geez! you! never change!! I barely just sleep, can you just leave me for like until tomorrow?” He pinched his cheek more and more, Alfred cried for help, “Dude!! okay!! I am sorry okay?” he pinched back while trying to let himself go.

Arthur pushed him to his door, “Thanks to God, I have little energy left after being dumped so I can’t throw you out, now I have to sleep or I will be twice as cranky as ever” He ruffled Alfred’s blonde hair before looking at him with sad and lonely eyes. “Arthur, I just want to make you feel secure with me, and I am secure with you” Alfred frowned at the gaze he always wanted to avoid, he leaned lower to hug him, “I miss you, don’t you miss me as well?”. Arthur loved Kiku, but he could not say that to a person who seemingly dear to him too, but in a different way, “Yes, of course, you are my little clumsy and obnoxious former brother” He teased him a bit to disguise the truth of his feelings. Alfred let go of his arms and jumped happily, “Yay! dude! I love you much!” he ran while singing in the hall like a little boy. “I will fetch you some pudding that I just made!” Alfred turned his head and made a childish grin. Arthur chuckled, “Sure sure, thanks anyway”.

Arthur closed the door, he took out a letter from Kiku that was in his pocket then opened it, there are a bunch of cherry blossom petals fell from the envelope, “Last memory huh, these are beautiful too” he decided to fill an empty small jar with those petals, his gaze moved to a vase with three dark red rose and he began to rip some petals from one of them and fit it in, “This is good, now I just need to hide it to protect him as well.” He whispered a spell of protection along with a wish of their relationship and memories won’t be forgotten to that jar. Alfred knocked the door, “Arthur? Ivan wants to come in, can he?” He whispered while opening the bedroom’s door. Arthur just closed the drawer where he hid that jar and he quickly turned his back, “Sure, but can I and he just talk tomorrow? tell him I am a bit tired” he answered Alfred while letting a soft sigh came from his breath, “Sure thing dude!” Alfred raised a thumb and walked downstairs to talk to Ivan. Arthur exhaled after Alfred told him it was ok and he hurriedly going asleep.

Today was oddly sunny, it was supposedly a great day to play on outside. Unfortunately, Arthur has to deal with military talk inside this dusty and cold mansion. He woke up and still lied down, “this is not like me at all, I have never this unwilling to do military talk, “Oh well honor and task have to be done” he whispered under his breath, “I wish I was not a country at all, or everyone leave me and Kiku alone it would be great” too bad his wish was the impossible one, at least for now. He went to his bathtub and bathe his tired body covered with beautiful golden hair and pleasing gleaming shades of green colors that attracted other easily on his eyes. “Ivan is waiting!” Alfred shouted in front of the door while placing biscuits and milk tea in front of it, “Yes yes sure, whatever” Arthur answered him back sleepily.

He walked down on pine-scented stairs while fixing his black collar shirt. Ivan smiled and hummed, “Black shirt? you looked like him, you know who, your dearest one, your loved one!” Ivan clapped his hands in amusement, “oh! I should not say that! sorry te-hee~” He chuckled like a kid, Arthur was in real pain for facing two powerful and yet immature country, at least for his standard, after all, he loved to think that he is better than anyone, except for his loved one. “Oh shut it, Ivan, none of your business, white clothes are too pure to be worn in this situation” he just made up lazy excuses and waved his handkerchief to shoo-ing Ivan off, “Now let’s get to the topic, shall we? so I can get a week or a day rest” he sighed and yawned slightly, trying his best to hide his insecurity about he might attack Kiku anytime. Ivan smirked at Arthur's responds, “Alfred sit down next to me first okay? there is only three chair here” Ivan pointed at left one, Alfred showed his tongue before sitting down, “No need to tell me! Don’t be rude to him!”.

“Please, both of you. Just tell me who are our opponents this time?” Arthur snapped his finger to got their attention, they giggled, “Almost entire Asia! They have gone too overboard, trying to put burden European’s military market and ocean and all! You might be under attack too! Does Kiku hide this secret in front of you? what a bad partner! Luckily we get you back!” Alfred put his arm around Arthur. Arthur’s memory came back for a while, Kiku sometimes looked a bit apologetic when talking about his life and in the future, ‘someone who is guilty won’t do that’ that was what he thought of him, it was true Arthur established good relations with other Asian countries on this last decade. His pale and shivery lips moved and a whisper was said, “I see, we won’t attack any of them blindly right?” he tried to gain his confidence and get rid of feelings that clouded his thoughts. Alfred stretched his shoulder, “No we are smarter than them, they are just savages and far behind us”. Arthur stepped on Alfred’s foot, “Be careful of that prideful poisonous mouth of yours, don’t spit poison that you can’t swallow back or handle” he glared and talked with full of threatening aura.

“Woah-dude, just a joke, I know you are close to them. I don’t think you will get irritated this much” Alfred lifted his foot and took off his shoes so he could rub his foot. Ivan laughed hard on both of them, “You two, never change, always be little brats that bicker. besides, I am joining both of you so my country will be well protected from undesired damage, especially from this kid” Ivan pointed at Alfred. Alfred pushed his finger away, “Oh you are so cute Ivan! Framing people like that!”. Arthur stood up and walked away to outside, “Off for air” He speeded up his feet and dash to the nearest Post office, where he wrote a sad letter.

“Kiku, I am sorry if I will attack I will make sure I will make the weapon I use will miss your people or important places, please don’t hate me, I don’t know what else to do. I hope you have a save spring picnic, please don’t hate me.

Ivan and Alfred hold me tight and they would not let me go this easily, right now they must be looking for me for their selfish reason.

Please, with this I will let you know that I won’t abandon you

I wish for you and your protection only”

Arthur wrote his sad and full of emotion, and yet messy letter very quick and he asked it to be sent quickly, he realized he will let himself exposed to the danger of being avoided, distrusted, isolated for years, or else like being destroyed completely by both sides.

Few days passed, the letter arrived on a Japanese man who eagerly waited for blooming time of cherry blossom trees across the country and this fertile land.

@angel-of-the-impala you win, this might take three chapter >.>)

#asakiku #teikoku shimaguni #hetalia #APH England #aph Japan #hetalia fanfic #please share!

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mellicose · 6 years

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That Woman Over There - Chapter 8

A You Me and Him Fix-it Fic

Rating: teen, for some strong language

Word count: 2300

Warnings: none

Summary: ~ Set after the birth of Monty, Olivia’s baby ~ A dear friend of Olivia comes to visit for a week, and she disturbs the fragile peace between her, Alex, and John.

“Happy birthday, darling!” yet another stranger yelled just as soon as Alex and Liv opened the door. They insisted that Connie stay near, so they could introduce her as a world-renowned flower artist.

She worked in just about every continent, but she was certainly not world-renowned. Known, perhaps, but not lauded.

Well, not much.

Both Alex and Olivia wore the flower crowns she made them for the party. Olivia’s was top-heavy with cabbage roses in shades of pink and red, while Alex’s was made with beautiful rich magenta anemones and studded with violets and microdaisies.

“Are those real?” Olivia’s friend touched the flowers on her head delicately.

“Very! She just threw them together this morning,” Liv said, squeezing Connie’s hand. “She’s quite talented.”

“Quite so,” the lady said, and she ogled Connie’s breasts. “Do you specialize in birthday parties?”

She groaned internally. Olivia’s smile flickered.

“Not at all. It’s usually museums and art shows and royal garden parties,” she said.

“Isn’t that cute,” she said. She scrutinized her further. She had short brown hair threaded with silver, and her pale blue eyes were large and ravaging. Her nostrils flared ever so slightly at Connie’s jean miniskirt and her high heeled booties.

“I’m going to check on the food,” Connie said, and walked away quickly. She wasn’t a shy woman, but she did not like that woman’s gaze. Sometimes Olivia was too nice. She walked blindly to the back door and bumped into John.

“Whoa, who are you running from?” he said, giving her a dazzling grin. She gasped.

“My God, where did it go?” she said, patting at his face. He turned his head to give her a better look. The beard was gone. She caressed his prickly cheeks. All that was left was maybe a day’s growth.

She pulled him outside, where the other guests milled around the appetizers tables and danced.

“Can you believe that falsetto?” he said, referring to the music. Justin Timberlake sang about drinking and heartbreak. “Is he even old enough to have a drink?

The woman appeared at the back door with Olivia in tow. She searched the crowd for Connie.

“Come on,” she said, and started to dance against him.

“I suppose all is forgiven,” he said. She gave him a serious look. “Okay. I suppose wrong. Why the dirty dancing?”

She turned around and ground up against his thighs. “It’s her,” she whispered, and pointed her chin at the woman in khaki pants and a green fleece vest. He burst out laughing.

“She get a bit cheeky with you?” he said, and put his arm around her waist and followed her lead. It wasn’t precisely what he imagined, but after last night, he would take what he could get. She smelled like the flowers she had pored over all morning at Liv’s kitchen table. “She’s harmless.”

“To you. You’ve got a penis,” she said, and turned to grind against his hip. “She makes my skin crawl.”

Her thigh muscles warmed his leg. He tried to focus on anything but how good she felt.

“Wow, this feels really convincing,” he said. “I am thoroughly convinced.”

The woman walked resolutely to them.

“Oh my God,” Connie whispered into his chest.

“Hello, John,” she said, squinting up at him. “How’s the misogyny business?”

As ever, he smiled. “Booming! I was meaning to say something about that. I-”

She cut him off. “You ran off before I had a chance to properly introduce myself,” she said to Connie.

She pointed up at him, and held him closer. “He just swept me away before I could get back,” she said. “Still in the first flush and all,” she said.

She gave Olivia a perplexed look. Olivia looked at them, then back at her friend.

“Artists,” she said, giggling. She shrugged.

John nuzzled Connie’s temple. “Got here too late, I’m afraid,” he said. “Alpha wins again.”

“Ugh,” she said, but she finally walked away to scrutinize the food.

What’s going on? Olivia mouthed, but Alex winked and pulled her away.

“Thank you,” Connie sighed. “I’m terrible at telling people to fuck off.” He still had his arm around her, and he let her go.

“Don’t worry yourself. I’m good at doing the pretend boyfriend thing.” They walked to the low brick wall at the edge of the garden and sat down.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Don’t be. We’re even now.”

“For what?”

“For last night. You know, with the drunk ladies and the bat and the yelling? You played the angry girlfriend brilliantly,” he said, smiling. His eyes crinkled.

“Right. I guess I tried too well to forget,” she said.

He bit his lip. “You smell spectacular. You got any leftover flowers?”

She nodded.

“Make me a crown. Please,” he said, showing her his teeth.

“You sure? What if your internet buddies see you decked out in dahlias and sweet peas?”

“I don’t give a flying fuck what they think,” he said. “I want to look pretty.”

“Let’s do it, then,” she said.

“Yay!” He jumped up and cheered.

“You are such a nerd,” she said, shaking her head.

“Yep,” he said, and followed her inside.

🌹🌹🌹

He sorted through the flowers, caressing the velvety gerbera daisy petals and long calla lily stalks.

“Pick whatever you like,” she said. She stood close to him, in front of the kitchen window.

“I want you to pick them out. Define me with flora,” he said, holding a small bouquet of ranunculi to his chest. “There’s no stink cabbage here, is there?”

She ran her index finger along his jawline. “You know John, you didn’t have to shave your beard.”

He sat on the counter. “After what you said? How could I keep it?”

“It wasn’t that bad,” she said sheepishly. “I was angry.”

“Are you kidding me? ‘70’s porn pussy’? It’s absolutely brilliant, and very hard to forget,” he said, rubbing his nearly bare chin thoughtfully. “What do you know about 70’s porn?”

She started to snip at the flower stems and separate the bunches of purple statice.

“Just whatever I was able to get my hands on from my mother’s collection,” she said, and plucked a dwarf sunflower from a vase on the windowsill.

“That’s not weird,” he said, eyebrows raised high.

“And generations of boys raiding their father’s collection isn’t just as weird?” she said.

“Fair enough,” he said. “So …” he hesitated.

“Go on. You’re dying to ask.” She bit off a length of flower tape and started to attach the sunflower to the wire hoop.

“Your mum. She had porn?” he said. “My mum would give my da grief for letting me watch Doctor Who. She thought the companion’s skirts were too short.”

She wove jasmine stalks to the wire and secured it, then started to tape an ombre purple peony on either side of the sunflower.

“It wasn’t porn per se,” she said. “It was more … art. Really naked sexy art.”

“So … porn,” he said.

“No. Art,” she said. “Who says that sex can’t be a thing of beauty?” she said.

“Right,” he said, smiling. “Art.”

“Before she married my father, my mother was an art groupie, so she has a pretty big collection,” she said.

“What’s an art groupie?” he said.

“She would spend time at all of the art haunts in Montmartre, in Paris. All her friends were painters and sculptors and writers… she herself tried to write, but sadly, she was never very good at it in French, and even worse in Spanish and English.” She fluffed the peony petals, and started attaching small pale yellow ranunculi, interspersed with jasmine. “She had a passionate affair with a nameless artist right before she met my father-”

“How did your parents meet?” he interrupted.

“My dad went to France with a close friend who would soon be diplomat there,” she said, and looked out the window.“Is that thyme on your back porch?”

“Yeah, it is. I love the way it smells on summer evenings,” he said.

“How romantic. Could you get me some sprigs? Especially the ones with the tiny flowers.”

He jumped off the counter and darted across the yard. Her eyes followed him, and she bit her lip. He did have a nice ass. He ran back in, threw two handfuls of the herb on the counter, and sat by the sink.

“So, where were we?” he said.

“Noticing that you also have a bay tree by the shed,” she said, giving him an exaggerated grin.

He nodded. “Right. I’ll be back in a flash,” he said, ran to the door, then doubled back. “Just to let you know, I also have rosemary, basil, sage, lavender, lemon balm, peppermint, and chamomile growing against the house where you can’t see it.”

“Ooh, chamomile! Make sure to pluck it as close the the earth as possible,” she said.

He saluted, then ran outside. In less than a minute, he handed her the requested greenery.

“Okay. We were at … art groupie,” he said, panting lightly on the counter.

“This chamomile is fabulous,” she said, breathing in their herbaceous perfume.

“I keep Olivia and Alex in tea,” he said, smiling. “Ever had an herbal bath?

“Nope. I’ve only had the quick, cold, and bubble varieties,” she said, started to stud the crown with the delicate chamomile flowers. “My father would make me rub myself with eucalyptus-infused rubbing alcohol when I was feverish, but that’s as far as that goes.”

“That sounds lovely,” he said. “I’ll have to try it.”

“It’s interesting. The alcohol evaporates quickly which cools the body, but the smell is headache-inducing.”

“Eucalyptus opens up the lungs, so it’s great for chest colds,” he said.

She gave him a look.

“What? I was sick a lot as a kid. I think it was more psychosomatic than not, but still. So … Montmartre?” he said.

She worked the bay into the sides of the crown. “She had a disastrous affair with a nameless artist that left her very vulnerable-”

“Is he actually nameless, or do you not want to say the name?” he interrupted again. She slapped his arm lightly.

“She doesn’t want to say his name, so I don’t know it. All I know is his work, and his mark on the bottom right corner of his sketches and paintings.”

“That’s exciting. He could be famous. Ever tried to compare the mark to something you’ve seen in an art exhibition? That’s what I would do.”

She nodded. “No luck, though.”

“But what does the affair have to do with art porn, and your father?” he said.

“I had a linear story, but you’ve interrupted me so many times that I don’t even know what I’m saying,” she said, and held up the completed crown. “Tada!”

“It’s brilliant, literally,” he said, caressing the bright yellow sunflower petals before putting it on his head. “Do I look gorgeous?” he said, batting his eyes.

“Like part of the family,” she said. The comment made him glow.

“But now you need one,” he said.

She shook her head. “Nah. I’m not really the flower crown type. It’s like getting high on your own supply.”

“Nonsense!” he picked up a giant, pale peach cabbage rose and jumped off the counter. “Here, let me…” he put his hands in her hair.

She slapped at him. “What are you doing?”

He put his hands up. “Sorry about that. I just want to do a quick dutch braid, so I can thread the flowers through it. May I?”

“Oh,” she said. “I guess it’s okay.” She stood still as he brushed her hair with his long fingers, and began to braid. It was nice to have someone besides a hairdresser doing her hair. “How did you learn to do it? I can’t do a french braid to save my life.”

“My sister. She’s terrible at them as well. When we were kids, I made fun of her for having clumsy fingers, and she bet me I wouldn’t be able to do it either. She had to do my chores for a week,” he giggled. “All done.” He stepped back to admire his handiwork. Now, her hair fell over her left shoulder in a messy braid that grazed her breast. “You look … like a hipster goddess,” he said.

“Fuck off,” she said, rolling her eyes and walking away.

“I was joking,” he said, gently pulling her back by the sink. “No hip. But let me finish my thing.”

“Fine. But be careful with the roses. They’ve got thorns.”

“Duh,” he said amiably. He scraped off the thorns with his thumbnail and threaded the stems through the braid starting at the crown of her head. She looked at him as he worked. He bit the tip of his tongue with concentration. The afternoon sun shone in from the kitchen window and gilded the brown of his eyes, and the spattering of freckles on his smooth skin was breathtakingly alluring. Her fingers twitched to touch his forehead, and trace the smile lines at the corners of his eyes. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears.

“What’s with the fists?” he said, gently squeezing her wrists. She looked down. She was white-knuckled with longing.

“Oh. This is nothing. It happens sometimes. Anxiety,” she said, waving away his touch. There were red crescents on her palms where her mercifully short nails bit into her skin.

“I’m done!” he said. “Tell me what you think.” He pointed to the small mirror hung by the back door. When she looked at herself, she hiccuped with laughter.

“Oh my God,” she said. The roses drooped in the braid, and her head was hoary with sprays of baby’s breath. “It’s … a look.” His smile faded, and it made her heart ache. “...that I shall wear with pride.”

He actually bounced with glee.“So I did well?”

“Beautiful,” she said.

“Good enough to go work for you?” he said.

The face she made bent him over with laughter.

Next Chapter

#you me and him #ymah #john helm #David Tennant #fan fiction #John x Connie #getting acquainted #That Woman Over There

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