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la-fille-en-aiguilles · 4 years

Text

Señorita

Billy Russo x Female Reader

Warnings: S.M.U.T., language.

Synopsis: You finally get out of the city to spend a week in a beachside paradise - you’re entitled to a little getaway, you think, with your birthday coming up. When a handsome stranger hits on you at the bar, along with your birthday, some other things might come as well. A/N: This was random? Came out of nowhere. Enjoy & let me know what you think x

Gif not mine

Timid waves crushed softly against the shoreline, white sand turning concrete gray at their touch. The warm breeze carried around a song you thought you recognised, but couldn’t remember from where. The beach-side bar basked in a gentle blush glow, so typical for the evenings here at Mallorca… You’d only arrived a couple of days ago, but already you couldn’t picture yourself anywhere else - just sitting here, at the bar by the turquoise sea, sipping on your Pina Colada in the shadow of the palm-branched roof. The wind brushed through your salt-stained hair from the entire day spent rolling around on the beach; mindful sun caressing your thighs, peaking from behind the slit in your deep emerald dress.

Tonight was relatively calm, you thought, twirling the straw in your cocktail absentmindedly. Ever since the English rugby team packed up their balls and other attributes and set out to sea, the place became peaceful.

You were glad. The entire point of this trip was to get out of the busy city for a while, enjoy the calm. If you wanted a testosterone-filled party for your birthday, you would have stayed in New York - Karen would throw a rave that would make Coachella look like a kindergarten gathering.

But that is exactly what drove you out of America and into this seaside paradise. If there was one thing you had trouble doing, it was working a crowd of people you barely saw in your everyday life, who only came for booze and dancing. Karen said she understood, and that the party would have been a small yet tasteful affair… you still fled.

Here’s to hoping that Karen wasn’t pissed at you for bailing, you silently prayed, throwing the straw on the bar and taking a gulp directly from the glass. Judging from the text Karen sent you earlier today, saying something about getting together for a celebratory meal when you got back to the city, you figured she wasn’t mad. She did say something about introducing her to a friend of Frank’s again, and having thrown the Karen plan for the party out of the window, you had to budge.

It’d been so long it had become a running joke between you two - Karen wanting to introduce you to that “handsome hunk”, with whom Frank had served. She was especially lyrical about his manners, his big heart and his beautiful smile.

If you didn’t know better, you’d think Karen was head over heels for the guy.

Every time Karen made plans for a Sunday brunch or Saturday night drinks at Castle’s place with the sole purpose of introducing you to the Hunk, you always found an excuse to ditch. Sometimes it was an urgency at work, sometimes it was about something funny you ate the night before… You must have been dodging these “introductory date” attempts for at least five months now - and it all looked like after this get-away vacation, you’d have to face the music.

Well, it was worth it. A week of doing nothing, reading sappy novels and drinking high-end cocktails, that was what you craved for, and if you had to pretend to be interested in some nonsense a guy was trying to charm you with for a couple of hours, it was a small price to pay. With that thought, you finished off your Pina Colada and motioned for the sunburnt brown bartender to get you another one.

“Hola señorita.”

The voice was unexpected. Low, with an agreeable trace of huskiness and with a hint of power.

“Disculpe, ¿este asiento está ocupado?”

Slightly frowning, you turned your head to the right.

Ever since the English rugby team settled in one of the villas, the women in the hotel found themselves outnumbered. It just so happened - what a coincidence - that you turned out to be their neighbour, your villa closest to theirs. Everytime you’d walk out of your temporary home to hit the bar or the beach, you’d spot at least three young men hanging outside of their quarters, their faces illuminating the minute they saw you. You’d give them a cursory smile back - you weren’t that cruel - but everytime one of them tried to approach you, you shot him down - often with a look, rarely with a verbal warning. Ever since they left, you was relishing the feeling of tranquillity - until he decided to burst your happy little bubble.

The first thing you noticed about him is that he wasn’t Spanish, despite the lack of accent. He had beautiful dark, almost black eyes, the colour of a freshly brewed espresso, that myriad of black and chocolate tones swirling in a whirlpool of tender curiosity. They held your depreciating stare well. The sun obviously loved him - those razor-sharp cheekbones glowed bronze as he tilted his head to the side a little bit. The wind caressed his dark hair, playing with the longer strands at the top.

Something about him was so familiar. Maybe you’d seen him on the beach before? You did stay at the same hotel after all…

Not in a slightest bit confused at your lack of answer, the man smiled.

His smile held a sort of a gentle surprise in it, like a summer day in a middle of October.

It was absolutely breathtaking.

“Je suis désolée,” you finally uttered, forcing your eyes to focus on his eyes again instead of his lips. “Je ne parle pas espagnol”.

His smile grew wider, much to your surprise. Instead of getting red in the face, stammering out some random apology as you expected him to, he nodded and motioned to the chair next to you with one hand, sliding the other one across the surface of the bar.

Despite your better judgement and against your utter dislike of aimless flirting, you found herself shrugging as you accepted her second drink from the bartender.

“A whiskey on the rocks, please.”

Ah-ha. He’s from New York.

You sipped on your cocktail directly from the glass, ignoring the brand-new straw the bartender supplied you with in order to hide your smirk. As the man held two aristocratic, impossibly long fingers in the air, making his order, you took the time to study him.

He was tall, much taller than you. The plain white t-shirt that he wore betrayed the solid stomach muscles hidden under the cotton - the short sleeves strained as he gripped the back of the chair and slowly lowered himself onto it.

“Thank you,” he finally said to the bartender with a nod, gripping his glass with those downright pornographic fingers. Slightly pursuing his lips, the man turned his full attention back to you. When you arched an eyebrow at his antics, he flashed you a mischievous yet understanding look. “Ça tombe bien. Je me sens plus à l’aise en parlant français”.

That cheeky bastard.

Your first reaction was that of a sincere surprise. You were pretty sure that for a second there, your eyebrows almost reached your hairline. Upon catching the satisfied glint in these already all too familiar eyes, you wanted to feel irritated at the nerve of him, at the fact that he just happened to beat you at your own game. But you didn’t.

Biting hard on your bottom lip in order not to laugh, you took your glass and sipped, hard.

“While I’d love to know how many more languages the lady speaks, I would much rather learn her name”, he dropped nonchalantly, whirling his whiskey gently, the ice cubes cluttering against the glass.

The first comeback that crossed your mind was so filthy you couldn’t possibly go with it. The second one, however, was efficient and succinct.

“Diana, here’s a lady’s name.”

With a low chuckle, he let his head drop down for a moment. When he raised his eyes to face you again, your chest felt a little too tight and a little too fragile under his poignant stare - that of amusement, want and a clean cut awe.

His eyes had told you that this was more than a drifting attraction, that he was interested in so much more than your name…

You saw it, and for some nonsensical reason, chose to believe it.

“I don’t care about names,” there was such a determination to your voice that it surprised you. It didn’t startle him, though - he caught your every word as his eyes travelled from your fluttering eyelashes to the soft curve of your lips. “When there are so many more interesting things to talk about. Don’t you agree?”

As you turned away from him and took another sip of your drink, you heard him chuckle yet again, and saw him press a hesitant finger against his lips.

This was obviously new to him. This small treacherous gesture led you to believe that maybe he wasn’t one to pick women at bars, that, just like you, he felt that thrill of surrendering to the strange sort of attraction encircling you both.

“In fact, enough talking. Let’s focus on doing.”

What was it so special about him that made you decide? It’s not like there’s been no men before him, very much willing to break through your iron-clad facade, wanting you to take a leap of faith. Some of them had the potential to make you feel good, you were aware of that. Still, you didn’t want them.

What made him so different? A certain familiarity of his voice, his features, maybe? Or maybe you should just slow down, cut down on the alcohol, drink a glass of water and go back to your villa, alone.

The way his eyes skimmed your naked shoulders, a barely there sigh leaving his half-open lips sealed the deal.

You didn’t want to slow down.

Not with him.

“Here’s to doing then”, his Adam apple bobbed as he gulped down, his eyes darkening. He raised his glass towards you - a figurative shake of hands on the deal they just made.

“Here’s to doing”, you agreed, clinking your glass to his.

His villa was located at the outskirts of the hotel beach, backed by the rocks. It was a ten-minute walk from the bar, feet in the warm sand, the star-sprangled night sky over your heads.

Despite the silence surrounding you, save for the occasional gust of breeze carrying on the sound of music from the bar you just left, you didn’t feel awkward. A soft smile ghosted over your lips as you felt his careful touch at the small of your back - those fingers sliding down to the base of your spine, feather-like. He strode forward, adapting his pace so you could keep up - you weren’t even sure he was aware of that, the change in him so spontaneous, as if it were a force of habit. Like this wasn’t the first time you walked side by side.

You would blame it on the booze, but you drank a total of two cocktails.

He only had one whiskey before they took off.

The villa he chose to stay in was slightly more spacious than yours, and provided a lot more privacy - this told you a lot about the man you were about to sleep with. He was most certainly well off, for starters. He also came here to get his share of peace and quiet, much like yourself.

Guiding you through the doors, he turned the lights on behind you, his other hand never leaving your back.

The best way to describe the interior would be neat or crisp, with a large, perfectly made bed in the center of the space, surrounded by a bar, a hanging chair, a shuttered armoire, and a desk, that could be used both as a kitchen table and a bureau. It smelled faintly of vanilla and musk, with a sea-salt aftertaste.

“Make yourself at home”, he murmured into your ear, still standing behind you, his hand gripping your hip hard for a fleeting second. When the realization of his touch had settled in, and you were finally able to react, he was already at the bar, serving himself a whiskey.

“Would you like something to drink?”

He busied himself with the bottle for a moment; then he produced another glass from behind the bar, waiting on your answer. When you didn’t speak, he turned to face you again.

You did as you were told - kicking off your shoes, you stepped onto the soft wool rug. With your back to him, you slowly made your way to his bed. One you reached it, you couldn’t resist trailing your fingertips along its surface - the sheets were creamy and silk, smooth to the touch.

You stopped short of the head of the bed, throwing a look over your shoulder. He caught your gaze, frozen in place, wetting his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue.

“Why don’t you choose for me?” you offered, slowly lowering yourself on the bed, crossing your legs. “What do you usually serve them?”

The way his eyes narrowed at you ever so slightly almost made you smile. It looked like you’d struck a nerve.

Good.

“I wouldn’t know how to answer that question”, he said, his voice levelled, his stare unblinking. “I’ve never had an urge like that before”.

Well, fuck.

How many more times this man was going to run counter to your expectations?

And on top of everything, damn, he was good. A quick-thinker or a natural good-talker? Would you remain clear-headed for long enough to find out?

“What else would you like to know?” his voice grew huskier as he pushed the glass away from himself. He left it at the bar as he started your way, his pupils blown to hell.

“That all I’ve been thinking about ever since I saw you at the bar is how soft your breasts would feel pressed against my chest? That I’ve been hard ever since you opened that sassy mouth of yours? Or that I would have jerked off to the memory of you for weeks if you hadn’t come here with me?”

God.

The tightness that had long since made home in your chest moved lower, lower, lower, until it sank into the pit of your stomach. At his words, involuntary, your thighs clenched together, restless energy buzzing in between your legs, your toes curling.

“Stand up”.

When your eyes focused back on your surroundings, you saw him standing a couple of steps away, his strong jaw clenching as he gazed at you, his arms folded on his chest. Breath catching in your throat, you pushed off the bed. Feeling dizzy all of the sudden, you squeezed your eyes shut.

“Don’t close your eyes. Look at me, beautiful.”

Again, you did as you were told - you met his gaze head-on, and almost instantly regretted it. He was staring down at you with those black bottomless eyes, raw emotion flowing through him, filling the air around them, charging it to the brim. His hands fell down his sides now - so tense, the veins budged on his forearms.

It’s like he was pacing himself, keeping himself from touching you.

“Take off your dress,” he requested after a moment, watching you like a hawk.

Slowly, squeezing your thighs harder, harder still, you brought your hands to the spaghetti straps on your shoulders, before pushing them off completely.

The dress landed in a heap on the floor, leaving you in nothing but lacy panties - almost utterly naked under his stare.

You heard the softest groan escape his mouth as his hand snaked across his thighs and up to that bulge in his pants. When he squeezed his hand around it, his abdominal muscles flexing as he exhaled, you felt the moisture spread down your inner thighs.

With your heart pounding in your throat, you made a step towards him with your hand stretched out. Almost immediately you heard a low strangled noise, and saw the nah shining bright in his dark eyes.

“Not yet, beautiful,” he growled, taking his t-shirt off in one elegant motion. He then undid the belt on his pants, his eyes savouring every inch of your naked skin. “Play with your tits for me. With both hands.”

Your own touch burned as you carefully squeezed your nipples with your fingers. Throwing your head back, you moaned loud, unwillingly pushing your hips forward.

“That’s it, beautiful, just like that.”

His words seemed to lift some sort of barrier, as you started to tug and pull harder at the nipples, alternating the movements with firm grasps around the swell of your breasts.

You were going to come.

You were going to come and he hadn’t even touched you yet.

“Now slide one of those hands down those panties. Rub that pretty pussy. Tell me how wet you are”.

You made peace with the fact that he was a talker - but now he had surely sat out to break her. His voice washed all over your body, sending goosebumps down your spine as you slid one of your hands under the underwear.

“I’m so fucking wet”, you gasped, staring at him. “Fucking dripping”.

His moan made your thighs tremble, your fingers slowly circling around your clit. Before you let your eyes roll to the back of your head, you saw him with one of his hands hidden in his pants, slowly jerking himself off, with slow, aborted motions.

“That’s it, caress that pussy for me. But go slow - tease it”.

You nearly growled at that. You knew you were close - there was a bundle of sensation, like a ball of electricity, building inside of you - two quick flicks of your index finger, and you’d be done for.

“Jesus, please”, you stuttered out before you could realize you were actually begging. “I’m so fucking close, please…”

You rubbed slowly over the nerves, your fingers wet and slippery. Panting, you realized his name would have come in handy just now - if he had some sort of a praise kink, you could maybe easily get the release you yearned for.

“You are so beautiful, fucking yourself like that. Wish those were my hands. Or my mouth”.

Something flared at the very end of your clit, softly spreading all over her pussy. You moaned loud and unapologetic, your fingers moving faster as you tried to chase that sensation. You needed to grasp it, to ride it out, you fucking needed it!…

“Put a finger inside, beautiful”.

You didn’t need to be told twice. Pumping fast and hard, you could feel your knees bending, your flesh begging for release.

“Come for me. Now.”

As if by command, the orgasm finally hit you - everywhere at once. It made your entire body shake as you screamed out, pussy clenching around your fingers. You barely registered you were falling down on your knees, when strong hands caught you at your hipbones, pushing you upright.

He was on you before you could come down from your high. His mouth hot and bruising against yours, you moaned, instinctively jumping onto him and wrapping your legs around his feverish body.

His scent assaulted you - a clean, musky scent made your inside muscles clench, so you wiggled against him, wanting more.

He was so painfully hard against your core, you whimpered, pushing your hips against his, needing more friction, like an addict craving for a dose.

Sensing your need, feeling you, he grabbed your ass with his large hands and stepped onto the bed, setting you down on that same wooden headboard of the bed you’d almost stroke with your fingers.

Pushing your legs apart, he settled in between them. Before you knew it, his tongue lapped at your wetness, sliding up the length of your slit. Whimpering and moaning, you arched your back, burying your fingers in his hair, tugging hard. That made him growl, adding a slight vibration as he sucked on the bundle of nerves. He slammed his fingers - those fucking fingers - into you, and it took exactly two pumps for your second orgasm to roll over you. With your eyes squeezed shut, you moaned into the ceiling with everything you had.

Helping you slide down onto the bed with his hands guiding your hips, he gave you a piercing stare. The one that made you whimper, even though your eye-side was still fuzzy at the edges.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, before he distanced himself from you - to take off his pants.

“I’m going to fuck you now - I’ll be gentle next time, right now… Right now I just need to bury myself in that pretty pussy of yours”.

“Fuck”, you moaned, propping yourself on the elbows, closing your eyes as you threw your head back. You didn’t know if you could handle more, but Jesus, did you want it. His cock stretching you wide.

You would not have been able to tell where he took a condom from - you didn’t even have time to contemplate on it. All you registered was a slight discomfort in between your legs before his huge cock pushed inside of you, inch by glorious inch. The stretch was almost too much, and you coughed out half a breath, half a moan as you tried to adjust to his size. Whatever sound you were about to let out next, as he slid out of you and pushed back in, to the hilt this time, it got lost in between your lips, as he captured your mouth in a bruising kiss.

Your nails scratched on his ripped back as he fucked into you shallowly, your teeth biting into the skin on his neck. As if not getting enough of you, he grabbed one of your thighs, flexing it, so he could thrust deeper.

The change of the angle had you swearing under your breath, and his mouth was there to silence you again, his teeth biting down on your bottom lip.

The third orgasm snuck up on you out of nowhere - there was no gradual built, no buzzing feeling in your lower stomach - it crashed on you like a bucket full of ice, having you arching your back, clenching around his cock so fiercely, it snatched an orgasm out of him, as well.

“Fuuuuuck”, he breathed out, his hips slamming sloppily into yours. “So fucking good, fucking…”

Before he could continue, you rolled forward and put your mouth on him, swallowing his words. With his palm cupping your cheek, he deepened the kiss as his cock drained itself into the latex.

The kiss grew soft, your noses touching ever so slightly as you both slowed down, a mess of tangled limbs. Smearing his wet mouth against your nipples, he pushed up from you, sliding his cock out.

“I’d take that drink now if you don’t mind”, you told him, a lazy smile illuminating your features.

A low chuckle he let out echoed in your lower stomach.

“Sure, beautiful. How does a whiskey sound?” he offered, standing up in all his naked glory.

You hummed in approval as you leaned higher against the headboard. Biting your lip, you checked out his ass unashamedly, as he made his way to the bar, throwing the used condom into the garbage bin.

“I know there are some things that we’ve agreed on, but I’d much appreciate calling you by your name instead of beautiful when going down on you next time. What do you say?”

You heard whiskey splash against the walls of your soon-to-be glass. Your inner muscles clenched at the sight of him, naked, serving you a drink.

“It’s Y/N”, you said with a small smile.

“Billy”, he responded, making his way to you. As you reached out to take your glass of whiskey from him, he pulled his hands backwards, using your position to land his lips on yours in a stinging kiss instead. You responded hungrily, grabbing his head with both of your hands.

The night was still young, after all.

“Okay, so would you rather spent your life partying with rich assholes you barely know, still seeing your family and friends, or get stuck on a desert island with no opportunity to see anyone at all?”

You turned your head ever so slightly, feeling his muscles clench as Billy huffed out a breath.

You both laid naked on his bed, him propped against the headboard, you - with your head settled comfortably on his stomach. A half empty bottle of whiskey was getting warm against your bare thigh, both of your glasses laying empty next to it.

You had lost count of the times you came with his name a word of ecstasy on your lips. You were surely going to sport some hickeys on your neck tomorrow, but you didn’t care.

You had never felt so at ease with a man before. Granted, no man had ever managed to make you come three times in a row, but that wasn’t the point. Billy made you question your “no dating” rule, and not just because he fucked like his life depended on it. He just got you - whether it was your discomfort in big crowds, fear of subway, weird addiction to macarons or love-hate relationship with Paris. You just clicked - it was hard to believe you met mere hours ago.

Or maybe the fact that you only just met was the reason why you clicked. It certainly wouldn’t be the same in the long run. The rose-goggles period only lasted so long. When routine kicked in, it tended to crash everything in its wake.

“That’s a tough one”, he said, biting on the inside of his cheeks. “If I could invite people on my desert island, I’d definitely go with the second option.”

“Well, you can’t”, you smirked at him, and then stared back into the ceiling. “It’s either being constantly surrounded, or seeing no one at all”.

He hummed, considering the options.

“I can’t imagine being alone 24/7, even though you might have guessed already, I love being alone sometimes”, his fingers slowly caressed the soft skin under your breasts, as he voiced his thoughts out loud. “It’s funny how your mind works though��, you could hear a smile in his tone now. “With you, it’s either all or nothing.”

You thought for a moment, interlacing your fingers with his. Then you shrugged:

“Sometimes, I just want to get away, you know? See no one, speak to no one… I sometimes push people away, thinking it would do me good. But it doesn’t always have that desirable effect.”

When you stole a glance at Billy again, you saw him nod.

“I know what you mean”, he spoke quietly. “And I’m glad you didn’t push me away tonight”.

“Oh, I tried,” you assured him with a smirk. “You’re hard to shake off”, you let go of his fingers and pushed yourself up on your hands, so that your eyes were on the same level.

Billy chuckled, his lips stretching in that warm and wonderful smile.

“Keep looking at me like that, and I’ll be hard. Again. Point blank.”

You laughed quietly, dropping your gaze, your eyes traveling down his stomach and to that massive cock between his legs.

He was getting hard again alright.

“What time is it?” you suddenly remembered, snapping your gaze around, searching for a clock.

“Quarter to four, why would you ask?” he told you, after checking his wristwatch.

You closed her eyes.

“It’s my birthday”, you said before you blinked at him in surprise.

In between all that dirty sex and orgasms, you lost track of time and completely forgot. Were you coming when the clock struck midnight? The thought made you giggle.

“Really?” Billy stared at you in disbelief before his dark cocoa eyes softened, and his voice dropped an octave. “Come here”.

Warmth spread all over your body at his words, your core the center of the growing tingling sensation. Billy used his hot hands to pull you closer, help you settle in his lap, your legs on each side of his hips. With his left hand he reached for the bedside table, pulling out yet another condom out.

“Would you like to put it on?” He whispered against the skin behind your ear, making your pussy tense. Not trusting your voice, you nodded, taking the foil packet from his hand. Tearing it up with your teeth, you slid the latex onto his throbbing cock, pumping him a couple of times for a good mesure. The noises Billy made were downright pornographic. You licked your lips.

With both of your hands on his naked shoulders, you slowly lowered yourself all the way down onto him, the sensation making you both moan this time.

“Just like that, beautiful”, he whispered softly in your ear, thrusting up into you.

You rode him slowly, arching your back, leveraging yourself on his shoulders. The position was so damn intense, and not only because that way Billy could thrust deeper, up to his balls. There was a strange sort of intimacy as he gripped your hips, helping you bounce slowly on his rock-hard cock - his cocoa eyes held a sort of intensity as he fucked into you. It made your heart ache.

“I fucking can’t get enough of you”, he confessed hoarsely. “Of that tight, wet, perfect pussy. Of your beautiful, smart mouth. All of you. Every fucking inch of you.”

His revelation combined with his soft, yet methodic thrusts was what toppled you over the edge. You came hard, your body protesting against all those orgasms Billy’s cock had already wrestled out of it. Speaking of him, he wasn’t too far behind either, gripping your hips and holding you down as he came.

His lips seemed to hold some kind of a promise as he kissed you gently.

“Happy Birthday, beautiful”, he whispered against your lips, his hot and ragged breath fanning over your skin.

You managed a tired smile, surging up to kiss him again, relishing the feeling of him inside of you still….

Surprisingly, New York welcomed you back with cloudless sky. It was still as busy as you remembered it, but something had changed. People seemed friendlier, streets - sunnier, summer - hotter. You caught yourself enjoying the city again now that you had come back well-rested from your week-long vacation.

Well-rested might have been a wrong word for it. More like satisfied. And taken care of.

After that night, you spent the two remaining days of her getaway at Billy’s villa - no strings attached. You two barely left the place. Never had you enjoyed a man’s company this much. You cooked together, swam together, made love together… Until it was over and done, and you had to go back to the real life again, tiptoeing on your way out so he wouldn’t wake up.

You stopped cold for a moment, a plat of appetisers freezing in your hands.

Did you just think made love? Well that was a slip of epic proportions…

“Daydreaming about your boy-toy again?” Karen teased her with a smirk, walking into the kitchen. “He must have been quite something”.

Oh that, he was. You couldn’t help but sigh as you put the plate on the table.

How many people Karen was expecting for the dinner exactly? It looked like Frank and her had cooked enough for the entire goddamn naval infantry.

“It’s been a week,” you said, shaking your head as if trying to make the thoughts about him fall out. “I guess I need some time to turn that page”.

“Who said that page needs turning?” Karen reasoned, putting two bottles of champagne on the table. “Didn’t you say he was from New York? You could keep on seeing each other?”

You didn’t even take a moment to think it over.

“Nah,” you shook your head, tugging at your silk top. “We didn’t talk much about our respective jobs, but he made it obvious he travels a lot, so…”

Catching Karen’s sceptic stare, you threw both of your hands into the air, waving them.

“I’ll see him when I’ll see him, and if I don’t…” you shrugged. “Guess it wasn’t meant to be then”.

You turned to face Karen again only to find out that her expression hadn’t changed.

“Uh huh,” the noise she made was her other way of saying bullshit. “Well, you do what you gotta do, but please play nice with Russo. I swear he is a perfect guy for you”.

You let out a chuckle.

“You know, I heard it so many times I’m actually starting to believe it”, you said.

As if on cue, you heard men’s voices in the corridor.

“So how was your getaway, then?” Frank asked casually, stepping first into the kitchen. “Wow, that looks amazing, ladies,” he commented on the table, winking at Karen.

Page blushed in response, making you roll your eyes.

You was about to make a side comment to your best friend, when your mind suddenly went blank upon hearing the stranger’s voice.

“It was great, perfect actually…”

A designer-shoes-clad foot appeared in the room.

“I just feel like I left a part of me there, I’m going to need some time to rea…”

…djust, your mind supplied as you stared at Billy, her Billy, standing across the room from you - fully dressed this time.

“Oh my God,” you barely whispered, your eyes big in your face, your chest feeling like it was going to collapse on itself.

Billy’s lips slowly parted in the widest smile you’d ever seen - he just stood there, like a man on whom the greatest happiness had been bestowed, and it rendered him speechless.

Karen looked at them both in confusion, until…

Until realisation dawned on her, and she chortled, squeezing her eyes shut and covering her mouth.

“What’s… What’s going on?” Frank frowned, looking back and forth between Billy and you. “You guys know each other?”

“Hell yeah,” Billy finally spoke, his eyes never quitting yours as he closed the distance between you in four decisive strides.

Before you could even speak, he gripped your cheeks and dropped his lips on yours, as hot and burning as the sun back in Mallorca.

You moaned like you didn’t have a care in the world, pushing onto your toes, throwing your arms around his shoulders.

“I missed you, beautiful”, Billy uttered between the kisses, his forehead pressed to yours. “You ain’t getting away so easily this time”.

You let out a soft laugh, inhaling his scent, and moved to kiss his lips again.

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spencervoid · 4 years

Text

Undercover | Spencer Reid

*I do not own this GIF nor do I take credit for it!*

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

A/N: This idea was inspired by the song “Us” by James Bay and Alicia Keys which is an INCREDIBLE song by the way! [Edited] Okay, writing this I didn’t expect to be this long but I kept adding as I went along aha so bear with it!

Warnings: angst, tension, death, blood, a lot of sadness, fluff, kissing, happy ending :)

NO SMUT! I’m not comfortable with writing that sort of stuff so I won’t go further than a very intense kiss, thank you.

Word Count: 2.6k words (reading time; 20 mins average)

[If your name is Anna then change the undercover name to whatever you like]

“I hate dresses.” You mumbled underneath your breath, stepping out of the SUV with Reid by your side. This mission was definitely out of your comfort zone but Emily claimed that there was no one better for the job. All you both had to do was profile the room after an anonymous tip came in that the unsub was going to be attending the party.

A couple of days ago, you and Reid had gotten into quite an argument and it had been awfully tense between you two since then, despite the tries from the rest of the team to get you two to at least acknowledge each other’s existence. Your heels clicked against the pavement as the warm air hugged your body closely, Reid looking around the area like the maniac he was. Defeats the purpose of being discreet.

You walked confidently, your hair was brushed back behind your shoulders, various rings slid onto your fingers with a very shiny diamond one on your ring finger of your left hand. Shoot, you almost forgot you were ‘married’ to Reid. Seriously, why couldn’t JJ go?

You approached the front door, the bodyguard stood with a clipboard in his hand. “Names?” You looked to Reid as he studied the man’s face, a light smile built up on his face. “James Meulbrook.” You planted a fake smile on your lips, as the bodyguard flicked through the pages, chewing his gum obnoxiously. “Ah, Mr Meulbrook, yes.”

The bodyguard spoke, ticking off the name with his black fountain pen. He looked to you, eyeing you up and down and you resisted every urge to gauge out his eyes with a fork but just tilted your chin up, a sudden hand on your waist, pulling you in. “And who’s the lovely lady?”

“Anna. Anna Meulbrook.” The bodyguard looked up at Reid, who had his jaw clenched and his other hand balled into a fist behind his back. The man looked visibly intimidated as he cleared his throat and stood to the side, motioning for the pair of you to walk in.

You both took his invitation in and walked side by side, but before you could go downstairs to where the hall was, you were stopped. You felt a soft grasp on your hand, turning to face Spencer, he was looking down at your face with a worrisome look. “Careful alright? We know what this unsub’s capable of.”

You nodded firmly and pulled your hand out of his, walking down the steps to where the huge hall was located. There were a couple of tables gathered on both sides of the hall, with an extravagant and expensive chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

“Woah.” You whispered, picking up your dress so you wouldn’t trip over it as you strolled down the stairs. You met the eyes of other people who had came tonight, a gleaming smile on their faces.

A waitress even complimented your dress as you made your way across the hall, being offered a drink. Spencer walked with both of his hands in his pockets, looking around the room with a tight lipped smile on his face. You refused the drink and took a seat on the table with ‘The Meulbrooks’ sign on it.

Spencer sighed and sat down besides you, whispering in your ear, “if we’re going to make this whole marriage thing work, you can’t be mad at me.” You scoffed quietly, looking to him. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

Throughout the night, Spencer stayed on his side as you stayed on yours and followed the instructions Hotch strictly told you to stand by.

‘Be welcoming, act like you fit in, and don’t approach the unsub if you spot him. You’ll be unarmed and be putting everyone else at risk. Call us. We will be watching the entire time just in case something goes wrong.’

You were talking with a couple of women who were sat on the same table as you, so far nothing had come up. Neither you or Reid had found anyone or even suspected anyone, despite how close you were looking at all the people here tonight.

In the middle of saying something, you felt a hand on your shoulder. “Excuse me.” You looked up and saw Reid smiling at the ladies before looking down at you, motioning to walk with him. Silently obeying, you stood up and picked your dress up off the ground, following Spencer elsewhere.

He turned around to face you, looking around to make sure no one else was in conversation distance. “I think I’ve identified the unsub.” You furrowed your eyebrows, shifting uncomfortably where you stood. “Who?”

“On your 6, navy blue blazer.” You looked down to the floor, whispering, “Talk to me. Pretend we’re in a conversation.” As Spencer rambled on about something to do with the laws of physics, you smiled at him and calmly looked to your left. You observed the man Reid was suspecting and looked back up at him.

“We agreed on a young male, not a 40 year old.” He rolled his eyes, pulling his hair back behind his ears. You both quietened down as a couple walked past, resuming to your conversation moments after. “He’s been staring at you for the last hour.”

You tilted your head at him, “Can’t handle the fact men are attracted to me?”

“He’s been staring a little too intensely to be attracted.”

“I think I would know if he was staring a little too intensely, I am a profiler after all.” You turned to walk away but Spencer grabbed your hand, pulling you back to face him. You hastily whispered in a hushed tone, trying not to grab the attention of the people around you. “Let go of me, I have a job to do.”

“You’re getting a bit too comfortable to be doing just a job if these men are staring at you.” Your mouth hung open as you scoffed, your voice getting louder. “What??”

You knew better than to blow your cover and put everyone at risk so you took a deep breath and yanked your hand out of his grip. “At least I’m trying to do my job right, James.” You emphasised on his fake name, a man and a woman approaching the two of you as you both simultaneously turned to them, fake smiles plastered on your lips.

“Mr Meulbrook, we just came over to say how much we admire your charity work.” You looked down to your feet for a brief moment, rolling your eyes before looking back up to face the couple and your ‘husband’. “I’m going to get a drink.” You excused yourself and gave a curt nod towards the two guests opposite you.

You spun on your heel and walked away, heading back to your table. Spencer watched you walk away, remorse filling his chest. He wanted to apologise, not just as James but as Spencer too.

“In trouble with the Mrs?” Spencer was shook out of his trance, looking back at the man. “Don’t we all?” He threw a light-hearted comment in an attempt to make him feel distracted but it didn’t work nonetheless. You were the only thing he could think about.

As you gazed at yourself in the mirror, you desperately tried to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall out, Spencer’s comment earlier running through your mind. Did he actually mean that? Did he think you were purposely trying to get men to stare at you? As if it was your fault that men couldn’t keep their thing in their pants when seeing an attractive woman, that was their problem. Not yours.

You heard heels click against the floor as you took a deep breath and pretended to fix your hair as the woman gave you a small smile in the mirror before walking into a stall. Suddenly, you stopped in your tracks when you heard a piercing sound run through the building.

Fire alarm.

You briskly walked back to the hall’s entrance when you got pushed back by a swamp of people who were running out, some screaming and some in complete terror. You were entirely confused, holding a lady back and trying to get her to calm down. “Hey, hey, hey, what happened?”

“I-I-I don’t know,” She was about to explain but ran away when she heard her husband calling her name out, ushering her into their car. You looked around frantically, searching for...

A sudden gunshot echoed through the hall as you ran in, seeing a young lady lying on the floor, blood flowing from the centre of her head as she laid lifeless on the ground. “Oh my god.” You whispered, tears escaping your eyes as you brought your hand to your mouth.

You noticed the bullet holes decorated across the ceiling, a silencer on the floor only a couple of feet away from where the body was.

Running to the girl, you saw the exit door wide open assuming it’s where the unsub must’ve escaped from. You couldn’t help the tears uncontrollably run down your cheeks, bringing your fingers to your head, running them through your hair in frustration.

Two FBI agents, one unsub, one victim and he still got away. God you felt so stupid.

Great, now your phone was still in the bathroom and you knew if you left, the press would be right outside so now you had no way to contact any of your team. Not to mention that you had a body laying in front of you, an escaped unsub and your own personal audience waiting for an answer outside.

You walked out of the hall, turning back every five seconds to see the girl, your chest filling up with guilt that you didn’t see to her in time. You couldn’t help but put the blame on yourself, thinking about the what-ifs.

Walking out into the outside, an army of guests and paparazzi gathered around you within seconds, knowing you had to answer for what had just happened inside but you couldn’t even bring yourself to figure it out. Being the liaison of the team really came with it’s disadvantages.

Questions, comments, blames were getting thrown at you in every direction as you agitatedly looked around, trying to calm down the situation. You were still crying, your body still pumping adrenaline, your mind still in shock and utter denial.

Thankfully, you heard a loud and deep voice take control of the situation and push the people away from you. Sighing, your body limped from the overwhelming pain you were feeling in your chest when you looked up and saw him.

But he wasn’t looking at you. Instead he was looking at Emily and JJ, talking to them in a frustrated manner.

He was shaking his head, his eyes were red and his fingers were crossed. Something he did when he was nervous. Almost instantly, he caught your eyes looking at him as he took a sigh of... relief? Suddenly, any defences you had built up against him were just paper. Before you even knew it, you were engulfed in his arms and his blazer was wrapped around you. You could feel his torso and the heart that beat from within. His hands were folded around your back, drawing you in closer. You could practically feel your body shake, crying as you nuzzled into him further.

Spencer pulled his head back and softly wiped your tears with his thumb, even his gentle touch brought more relief than your heart could hold. He pulled your hair back behind your ear, almost assessing your face for any sort of pain or damage. “I-I let him get away, she’s gone. She-She’s gone.” You cried out in whispers as he tried to calm you down, resting both of his hands on either side of your face.

“This isn’t your fault angel. You did nothing wrong. You did nothing wrong.” Spencer repeated to you, kissing your forehead gently. “They’ve secured each exit, every unit is out on the road. We’ll find the son of a bitch.”

Your cries went to silent sobs as you rested your head on Spencer’s firm chest, his hand on the back of your head as he ran his fingers through your hair in an attempt to soothe you.

“It’s okay. You’re okay.” He continued to whisper, everyone else around you keeping a safe distance, they were sure Spencer was doing a good job and he was. There was no one you trusted more to take care of you.

After a couple of hours, the unsub was captured somewhere in the woods when a person called in, reporting someone of the exact same description. He was disarmed at the scene and was already on his way to the police station where Hotch, Rossi and Emily followed.

You were leaned up against the side of an ambulance, still wearing Spencer’s blazer, you gazed out into the distance, hearing all the chatter and noise behind you.

You felt a vibration come from the blazer’s pocket, pulling out Spencer’s mobile, you read the new message sent. “Got your phone :)” You smiled to yourself, scanning over the message a couple of times before locking the phone and putting it away.

Hearing footsteps slowly become louder, you turned your head to see a familiar brown haired boy walk over. A soft smile on his face.

He stood in front of you, hands dug into his pockets as he pulled out your phone and handed it to you. “Thank you.” You mumbled quietly, earning a hum in response.

You had every urge to ask him what was on your mind, what you were thinking since you’d shared that hug, every moment didn’t seem right until this one. When it was just the two of you. When you were both enjoying each other’s company silently, you knew it was the right moment.

“Why were you crying?” You looked up to meet his eyes who were already fixed on you, his lips twitching as he thought of what to say. Taking a step forward, he spoke confidently, “because I thought I’d lost you.”

You nodded gently, picking at the rings on your fingers as you decided on whether or not you should ask the next question. But you did anyway. “What you said in there, about me wanting men’s attention, did you m-”

“No. No I didn’t mean that Y/N. What I said in there were lies. All of it. You’re beautiful okay? You can wear anything you want and men are always going to look at you because every ounce of you is perfect. Every ounce.” You opened your mouth to reply but he beat you to it, “look, I was just jealous. I was jealous because I mean Y/N, look at you. You’re so damn beautiful.”

There was a brief pause between you both when he spoke back up again. “Just say the word and I can show you Y/N. I can show you just how much you mean to me.”

You stopped for a moment, placing a hand on Spencer’s chest as he looked down at you, waiting patiently. There were a million thoughts running through your head but you knew deep down you wanted him. Despite how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise.

“Okay.” As soon as the word left your mouth, Spencer lifted your head with his thumb, his forefinger resting underneath your chin. You closed your eyes as he leaned in to your face, feeling a pair of lips brush yours instantly afterwards. It was soft and delicate, as if he was asking for permission to go further.

You brought your hand slowly up to his face as the kiss continued, the touch of his lips against yours getting more and more intimate. He could feel the warmth of your skin, smiling against your lips at how you were probably turning pink.

And yes, you were turning pink. You could practically feel your limbs inside shaking, your heart beat quickening and your body melting under Spencer’s gentle touch.

#spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #fluff #imagine #doctor reid #spencer

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jaskierswolf · 3 years

Text

The Christmas Elf (Pt.4/5)

Peace.

Fucking peace.

Geralt charged along the path towards the mayor’s house where Jaskier and Yennefer were hopefully still both alive. He didn’t want anymore lives on his conscience today.

They’d been travelling together for sixteen years at this point, married for eight, and he knew Jaskier had a tendency to chatter, especially when he nervous about something. They’d been toying with the idea of Geralt going with Jaskier back to his home this winter. Jaskier had visited Kaer Morhen a couple of times over the years when he’d been able to convince Santa that he wasn’t needed for Christmas that year, returning in the spring to pass along the Christmas Spirit he’d managed to capture in the smaller snow globe, but Geralt had never seen the North Pole Realm. Jaskier was worried about bringing an outsider into his realm. Not because he didn’t trust Geralt but because he didn’t trust the other Christmas elves to treat Geralt kindly.

Jaskier’s isolation from his own kind had only gotten worse after they’d had a hand-fasting ceremony eight years ago. It had been Geralt’s idea. He’d needed something to hold onto during the months they were separated each year and he knew that Jaskier was the romantic sort.

Vesemir had performed the ceremony and his brothers had been there as witness. Jaskier had ridden home on Pegasus to ask a few of his closer friends from the North Pole to attend but he’d come back alone and devastated, the light in his eyes almost nonexistent.

He’d vowed right there and then to make sure that Jaskier knew that he always had a family in the witchers of Kaer Morhen.

Their marriage had also saved them a whole lot of trouble when it came to jilted lovers. Over his first few years on the Continent, Jaskier had built up quite a reputation as a lover of all and disgruntled spouses often lashed out at him when they had the chance. Now, no one came near Jaskier, not with his witcher husband standing guard. He smiled fondly as he remembered the swine from Pavetta’s betrothal feast. He hadn’t noticed Geralt watching Jaskier from across the room and had almost shit himself when Geralt introduced himself as Jaskier’s husband.

Of course it was that shit show that was still haunting Geralt to this day. It was nightmares of his child surprise fleeing from a burning city that had kept him awake each night. It was that fated evening that had caused his irritation the day before. So yes Jaskier had been particularly chattery, too anxious to read Geralt’s short fuse but he was the one that had lashed out at Jaskier. Sure he was exhausted but it was Jaskier.

He should never have said that, not to him, not to someone he loved.

Now if only he could get that fucking scent out of his head. He’d known as soon as it had hit him that there had been some kind of enchantment. His medallion had hummed on his chest but he’d noticed too late. The damn witch had been inside his head, manipulating his thoughts, pulling at his free will. It had been a blessing that he’d blacked out. He didn’t want to remember the pain he’d caused throughout the town, further damaging the reputation of witchers and undoing all of Jaskier’s work.

“Oh, Geralt. Thank the angel Gabriel. I might live to see another day.” Jaskier came running from the house. His shirt was covered in his blood and Geralt winced. It had all been his fault. Instead of pulling Geralt into a hug, like he would usually do, Jaskier charged straight past him. “We need to go.”

“Jaskier.” Geralt grabbed his elf’s hand and pulled him to a stop. He needed to see for himself that there was no permeant damage done. He cupped Jaskier’s cheek and smudged the blood from his lips. “You’re ok?”

“I’m glad to hear that you give a monkey’s about it.” Jaskier snapped.

Fuck.

He was still mad at Geralt. They didn’t argue this badly very often. Neither of them enjoyed the distance it put between them, and they always tried to make up before winter came and they parted ways.

Geralt hummed. “What happened?”

“Well, I was having a rather lovely dream which then turned into a nightmare. There were naked women in both parts. The first one was loving, tender, very generous.” Jaskier explained with a flick of his wrist. He no longer wore bells around his wrists during the summer but he’d never quite lost the habit. His words stung. Geralt snarled. Now his husband was just being petty. “The second, significantly more terrifying.”

“Tell me about the second one.” Geralt grumbled.

“Well, black hair, devilish eyes, was painting an amphora on her abdomen. You know, the usual.” Jaskier answered, ever the dramatist.

Yennefer.

Fuck.

He had to save her, he owed her for Jaskier’s life. She wasn’t allowed to die.

Jaskier protested at Geralt’s response but Geralt insisted.

Finally with a dramatic sigh, Jaskier grabbed onto Geralt’s hand and they were wrapped up in a flurry of snow.

Frost hopping, Jaskier called it.

Geralt called it what it was, a short ranged portal, and he fucking hated portals.

Yennefer was tearing herself apart trying to capture the djinn, and neither Geralt or Jaskier’s magic would touch her, not like this.

He had to wish.

So he wished.

And the house went still.

For a moment.

The calm before the storm.

Then havoc as it all began to crumble on top of them.

“Geralt!” Jaskier screamed and everything stopped.

No.

Not stopped.

Yennefer looked between the pair of them in shock.

Jaskier’s hair was now white with frost and his hands were like ice in Geralt’s. Geralt had to let go before the cold burnt his skin.

“What the fuck?” Yennefer asked. “I thought he a bard?”

Geralt shrugged. “He’s also an elf.”

The ceiling creaked a low long groan and dust slowly floated down from the sky.

“Fuck!” Jaskier gasped, his eyes flying open. They were like blue torches in the darkness of the bedroom.

Geralt had never seen them shining so brightly.

“Not even Francesca Findabair could do this.” Yennefer muttered.

“Geralt.” Jaskier slurred the word, his voice was strained and barely above a whisper. “I can’t hold it. Not enough Spirit. Get us out!”

Geralt grunted and turned to Yennefer. “We need to go. Now.”

“I can see that, witcher.” She snapped. “Grab hold of your bard and take my hand.”

Geralt took a deep breath and wrap his arm around Jaskier’s waist. The cold pierced through his armour and he felt like he’d jumped into the icy rivers around Kaer Morhen. He hissed in pain but managed to hold onto Yennefer’s outstretched hand.

His stomach churned as Yennefer made another portal.

He groaned. If he could never see another portal again then he would be happy. It was the simple pleasures in life, like knowing how to walk places or riding Roach or just anything except a portal.

All three of them tumbled to the ground in Yennefer’s sex den. Jaskier fell limp in Geralt’s arms, the colour returning to his hair and skin. Geralt landed on his back, thankfully onto a cushion and Yennefer collapsed next to him her arm draped over Jaskier’s back. Geralt groaned quietly under the weight of the two bodies. He heard the roof crumbling above them.

Yennefer’s portal and whatever shit Jaskier had done, had saved their lives.

Geralt brushed Jaskier’s now brunet fringe from his eyes. They were shut but Geralt could thankfully feel the steady beat of Jaskier’s heart.

He was alive.

Geralt turned his attention to Yennefer. She wasn’t moving but she was also alive. The portal must have drained her energy.

“Yennefer.” He tried to rouse her, unsuccessfully. He carefully laid Jaskier down on the large cushion and pressed his lips to his husband’s forehead.

Jaskier groaned quietly under his touched and rolled onto his side, curling up into a ball.

He was alright. So Geralt tried Yennefer again. She was more awake this time and her tongue was sharper than his blades, blaming him for the djinn’s disappearance as if he’d hadn’t saved her life with his wish.

His wish.

Fuck.

That could have been better worded.

He made a note not to tell Jaskier. His husband, the ever eloquent wordsmith, would have his head if he knew.

He traded barbs with Yennefer until Jaskier whacked him in the leg.

“Would you two shut up?” He grumbled and buried his face in the pillow.

Geralt rolled his eyes. “Careful, Jask. You don’t know where that cushion’s been.” He huffed a laugh.

Jaskier immediately jumped to his feet before falling straight back into Geralt’s lap.

“Oh fuck, my head.” He whined and snuggled into Geralt’s embrace.

“How did you do that?” Yennefer asked.

“Do what?” Jaskier slurred.

“You stopped time.” She raised an eyebrow at the pair of them.

Geralt shrugged. She had been the one who had assumed they were only friends. He’d been too overwhelmed by the panic in his chest to correct her before.

“Slowed time.” Jaskier corrected. “and I don’t know. I thought only Santa could do that.”

“Santa?” She laughed. “What the fuck is that?”

“His boss.” Geralt explained.

“Santa, Father Christmas, good old Saint Nicholas.” Jaskier waved his hand but kept his face buried in Geralt’s chest.

“Is he mad?” Yennefer asked.

Geralt shrugged again.

“Oi!” Jaskier snapped. Geralt just laughed and kissed his hair.

“You married me.” Geralt reminded him gently.

“Oh yes, I was completely mad to marry you.” Jaskier drawled sarcastically and pulled back to glare at him. “Eight years and you still doubt that I love you.”

Geralt hummed nonchalantly.

“Married?” Yennefer scoffed. “A Witcher and a bard, how poetic.”

Jaskier laughed. It wasn’t his normal radiant laugh, he was too tired from the exertion of the magic, but it was still beautiful. “All the best love stories are, my darling witch.”

__________________

Jaskier watched helplessly as Geralt and Yennefer tore each other apart with scathing words. His own heart was breaking as Borch revealed the true extent of Geralt’s fated wish.

How could his husband be so foolish?

He didn’t noticed the frost creep out from beneath his boots as he seethed silently away from the feuding pair.

No wonder Geralt and Yennefer had always had this strange dance. Geralt had never cheated on him, as far as he was aware, but Jaskier had noticed the way his witcher was always drawn to the sorceress. He’d just turned a blind eye. It had been easier that way.

Fuck!

Was this the feeling he’d sparked in all those jealous spouses all those years ago?

Fuck!

He wrapped his arms around his chest. For the first time in decades in actually missed his home, not Kaer Morhen or his occasional lodgings in Oxenfurt but his real home. The North Pole. His cosy little ginger bread cottage with it’s roaring fireplace and the ever-present scent of candy canes and cinnamon.

Sure he dropped back a few times a year to transfer the Spirit he’d generated and every other year he still joined Santa on the sleigh, although he’d never built up the courage to ask Santa how he had managed to slow time in Rinde. Christmas elves were not supposed to have that ability and he was unsettled by it. He’d also been avoiding the topic of bringing Geralt back to visit. His husband already put up with enough hate in this realm, he didn’t need it from the other Christmas elves too.

And after this delightful revelation, Jaskier wasn’t even sure if he wanted to bring Geralt home, not if he was just going to pine after Yennefer the whole time.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

He was going to be sick. His ears started ringing as he struggled to breathe. He couldn’t do this. Not without Geralt. Christmas elves weren’t supposed to fall in love and yet Jaskier had fallen so deeply in love that he could no longer imagine what his life would be without Geralt in it, but how were they supposed to move past this.

Yennefer stormed past him and he watched her go, his hands white and trembling. He gripped tightly onto his lute strap in attempt to ground himself but it didn’t work.

He needed to get away.

He couldn’t bear to lose Geralt any more than he already had. He couldn’t look Geralt in the eyes and know that his husband no longer loved him.

He let out a shaky breath, wisps of condensation escaping his lips, and he could feel the cool frost in his hair. He was losing control of the Spirit that he had stored in his veins but there still wasn’t enough to make the jump back to pegasus. His reindeer was too far away for him to frost hop and he couldn’t get home without him.

He scrambled to his feet and went to follow Yennefer back down the mountain.

“Damn it, Jaskier!” Geralt called after him.

Jaskier froze and spun round to face his husband with tears in his eyes.

Christmas elves didn’t cry. They were joyful creatures by nature. They sang and whistled and made toys for all the children of Earth. They created fairy lights and Christmas trees. They baked gingerbread and painted striped on candy canes, and elves like Jaskier created the music of Christmas, the soulful carols that uplifted the hearts of every human on Earth, young and old.

But they never cried.

Jaskier hadn’t even realised it was possible.

He brought a shaky finger up to his eyes and wiped away the tear. He had to laugh despite everything when he noticed the flecks of glitter in the droplet.

Geralt’s arms wrapped and around him, despite how cold he must be to the witcher. He pressed his face against Geralt’s chest, too weak to resist his lover’s embrace.

“Are you… crying?” Geralt murmured quietly.

Jaskier scoffed and sniffed loudly. “Apparently so.”

“Why?”

Jaskier sighed and he frost hopped away from Geralt in a cloud of snow.

“Why?!” He snapped putting his hands on his hips. “Geralt, you bound yourself to her like she’s your fucking soulmate. Bloody hell. Why would you do that?”

Geralt growled. “I didn’t have time to think about it, Jaskier. Fuck!” He snarled and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I was just trying to save her life.”

“Always so fucking noble.” Jaskier grumbled. “You could have just asked the djinn to let her live!”

“It was a mistake.”

“You didn’t want to lose her, Geralt. Bollocks. You barely knew her.” Jaskier glared. “Is that why you went back inside, because you wanted her…”

“No.”

“I don’t understand!” Jaskier yelled and snow whipped around him, lashing out against Geralt and knocking him to the floor. “Oh shit, Geralt!”

He ran over to where the witcher was lying on his back and covered in snow.

Geralt groaned and wiped the snow from his eyes. “Jask.” He reached out for Jaskier and despite his anger and heartbreak Jaskier took Geralt’s outstretched hand.

“Just tell me one thing, Geralt.” Jaskier sighed.

Geralt grunted.

“Why did you lie to me about the wish?” He asked quietly.

Another grunt.

Jaskier huffed and rolled his eyes, yanking his hand away from Geralt and moving back down the path.

“I knew you would be cross.” Geralt mumbled. Jaskier stopped but didn’t turn to face his husband. “You are so good with words. I knew you would have thought of a hundred ways I could have made that wish that didn’t bind Yen and I together. I felt… inadequate. I didn’t want to disappoint you, but it’s too late now.”

Jaskier’s heart broke again for the second time that day.

Fuck!

How had he been so selfish? He knew Geralt was hurting, losing Yennefer would be hard for his husband, no matter what he thought of the witch, and facing his own abandonment of the child surprise would have been a second dagger in his witcher heart.

Jaskier sighed and wiped his tears. He didn’t need them. Geralt loved him. He knew that. He wouldn’t let this jealousy poison his heart. He’d be a shit Christmas elf if he couldn’t forgive easily, especially when Geralt sounded so remorseful.

“I’m disappointed, yes.” He agreed. “but only because you didn’t trust me enough to tell me.” He knelt beside the snowdrift that was currently Geralt of Rivia and cupped his husband’s face in his hands.

“I’m… sorry.” Geralt refused to meet his eyes.

Jaskier kissed Geralt’s forehead. “I know, dear heart. I know.”

“Forgive me?”

Jaskier smiled weakly at his husband. “Of course. That doesn’t mean I’m not still hurting though, Geralt, but I forgive you.”

“You’ll come to Kaer Morhen this winter?”

Jaskier frowned. He’d spent Christmas at Kaer Morhen last year. This year he was due to go back to the North Pole. He had instruments to enchant and Christmas hits to pass around Earth. Whilst Earth wasn’t generating as much Spirit as the Continent, things had improved in the last couple of decades. Now that the Christmas elves could use Spirit again there were traces of magic on Earth once more and the children believed in Santa for a little longer with every year that passed.

Jaskier was incredibly proud of that achievement, but it did mean that he couldn’t abandon his home and his work to be with Geralt every year at Christmas.

He shook his head. “I have to work.”

“So I’ll come with you.” Geralt said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Jaskier sighed and nodded.

It was time. He couldn’t hide his home from his husband any longer. They both needed to face the music of his fellow elves, and the North Pole Realm.

“Alright then. Yeah.” He appraised Geralt’s snow covered outfit. The black armour that Geralt never seemed to change out of, unless Jaskier literally forced him to.

He pictured Geralt stomping around the North Pole with his swords and his black clothes and his grumpy expression, and he promptly burst out laughing.

His husband would look like a bull in a china shop.

“What?” Geralt growled which only made Jaskier laugh harder. He brushed some of the snow from Geralt’s silvery hair and kissed him chastely before rubbing their noses together.

“You, darling witcher, will need to change before you get anywhere near the North Pole Realm.” He sniggered at Geralt’s look of horror.

“No bells.”

“Yes! Bells!” Jaskier clapped his hands together and with a flick of his wrist, Geralt had a shining silver bell attached to his usual black leather hair tie. He tilted his head and reached round to flick the bell.

“Jaskier!” Geralt snarled and lunged for him.

Jaskier grinned and frost hopped away before running down the mountain. Only this time he was sure Geralt would follow him.

#the witcher #geraskier #the christmas elf #my tag energy is low #sorry #minor angst #but it gets resolved #wolfie's witcher writing #ao3 link is on masterlist #god i have no spoons left

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emdythewriter · 4 years

Text

a new light | epilogue (Elriel)

*5 years later*

Azriel is sitting out on the back porch of the cottage style home that him and Elain moved into right after they got married three years ago. The backyard is currently filled with kids running around and chasing each other, well all but one child that is.

Next to Az on the porch is his four year old nephew, Emerson who’s the oldest of Cassian and Nesta’s children. He’s a lot like his mom and isn’t much for people or social events. So he just watches the three families gathered at Az’s house with his uncle.

It’s the last weekend of the summer before sending the kids back to preschool and kindergarten for Emerson. Elain had decided to host a cookout as a last little get to getter before all their lives got crazy again. Not that Elain’s business hasn’t been keeping her very busy.

When Elain finally opened her shop a few years ago she already had a waiting list of orders and the business has only grown since. Last year she opened a second location in another part of Velaris and now she’s working on another location in the capital of Winter, where Vivianne moved two years ago to be with her boyfriend recently turned husband.

Due to the growth Azriel decided to step back from Rhy’s law firm and focus on new goals that he started to grow passionate about alongside Elain. Now he runs a non-profit Rhys helped him build from the ground up and at the beginning of the year they finally were able to open up the office.

The charity focuses on helping victims of abuse whether it’s with a partner, parent, or even a stranger. Az even hosted the first event for the charity in the spring where they held an auction and donated the proceeds to several women’s shelters in Velaris. In October he’ll host a Halloween party filled with rides and haunted houses and games for all ages. Then in December he’ll partner with Rhys at the Starlight ball as well.

On top of all the success Elain and Az have both accomplished in their work lives there’s also been rewards in their personal lives. A few months after they got married Elain discovered she was pregnant with their daughter, Hope. Then six months ago they welcomed their second little girl, June.

Currently Hope is running around playing with Rhys and Feyre’s oldest, Hunter. The two were born three weeks apart, Hunter being the older one and since then they’ve been inseparable. As for June she’s currently playing with the other babies by their mother’s.

Feyre is pulling a car toy out of her daughter, Rose’s mouth while Nesta is yelling at her third child who takes after her father. Marley is currently two years old and in the middle of her first prank war of many with Cassian. Oliver, Nesta and Cassian’s youngest is laughing as he watches his troublesome sister.

Azriel chuckles as he watches the failed prank Marley attempts on Cassian who likes to call himself the King of Pranks. When he catches his daughter she shrieks and runs away only to have her father race after her. Those two are going to be trouble, Az thinks as he takes a sip of the mixed drink Feyre had made for all of them.

“Mom’s going to lose her voice again,” Emerson says, watching his little sister be caught by their dad. “She just got it back too.” Nesta had always been the one to yell when she gets mad and ever since Marley learned to crawl Nesta’s been losing her voice every few weeks.

“Yeah but it’ll only get worse if Oliver takes after those two,” Az responds. He can only imagine how much Nesta will start drinking if she ends up with two meddlesome kids, especially considering Cassian is trying to convince her to have another baby within the next year.

“That’s why Marley won’t be allowed to influence my brother,” Emerson says sternly. He’s definitely like his mom, Az thinks as he watches the young boy next to him. Emerson may act like his mother but he looks just like his father. He has the say dark hair, skin tone, and grin as Cassian the only difference is the eyes, those are grey like Nesta’s.

Rhys, who’s been manning the grill calls out that the burgers and hot dogs are done. The kids rush to their seats, even Emerson who has the same love for food as Cassian. Azriel walks over to his wife and takes June from her so she can run into the house and grab the side dishes.

There’s already potatoes and corn out on the table but Elain had made a salad and chopped up some fruit before everyone came over. Az puts June in her high chair they had set in between him and Elain’s seats. Strapping her in putting a bib around her neck Az shakes out a bag of cereal for her to snack on.

His wife comes back out and adds some fruit to June’s tray as well before sitting down and grabbing her own food. Bowls and trays of food get passed around the table as they all make their plates for themselves and their children.

Once everyone is settled the conversations start. There’s talk of the kids which is everyone’s favorite topic. Then there’s talk of work and some charity events Az hopes to do throughout the next year. They also talk about the little things that have taken place throughout their lives.

“Sometimes I wish we took a page out of Amren’s book and waited to have kids,” Nesta tells her husband as the conversation switches topics once again. Amren who is Nesta’s closest friend has spent the past year travelling the world with her fiance, Varian before getting married and settling down.

“If you went the Amren route you probably would never have kids,” Rhys comments knowing his former partner. When Amren got back together with Varian she decided to leave Rhys’s firm and work at a different one in Adriata.

“That’s very true and why would you want to miss out on this cuteness?” Cassian says as he bounces Oliver on his lap, their son having scarfed down his dinner. Oliver realizing that people are looking at him, smiles and babbles as he looks up at his mother.

Nesta smiles widely at her youngest. “Yeah I guess you’re right for once,” she tells her husband as she takes Oliver from him. Hugging her son close. Elain is smiling just like everyone around the table who all know what Nesta went through to get where she is now.

“So does that mean we can have another?” Cassian says hoping he’s finally broken through to his wife.

“Ask me when he’s one,” Nesta responds, rocking Oliver who’s starting to doze off.

“Deal,” Cassian says lovingly watching his wife and son. Az knows his friend is also thinking about what he did in a past life to deserve this.

“Anyone else want more kids?” Feyre asks curiously.

“Maybe in another couple of years,” Elain says looking over at Azriel.

“Sounds good to me,” he tells his wife with a smile. Back when they had first started talking about a family Azriel had told her he didn’t care how many kids they had as long as she wanted them.

“You want another baby darling?” Rhys asks his wife using her nickname.

“I don’t know,” Feyre says honestly. Rhys nods, smiling.

“Well whatever you decide I’ll support you all the way,” Rhys reaches down into Feyre’s lap for her hand bringing it to his mouth for a kiss. Feyre smiles.

“Even if she asks you to get a vasectomy?” Cassian asks with a shudder.

“Yes because I actually listen to my wife,” Rhys combats.

“Hey I listen to Nesta!” Cassian argues.

“Rarely,” Nesta mumbles, causing Cassian to huff in annoyance mostly because he knows it’s true.

Az laughs as he watches his friends, his family and appreciating that this is his life. It’s a life he never thought he would get to hold. Then a woman with the kindest soul moved into his building and made him crave a life like this one.

Looking over at the woman that changed everything for him, his love, his wife, his Elain Az can’t hold back his smile. It’s a smile she reads easily and returns knowing that he changed her life just as much as she did his.

“I love you,” Elain whispers to her husband, all the unsaid feelings and emotions wrapped in those three words and he’s hit with it all as he grasps and squeezes her hand.

“I love you,” Azriel whispers right back with the same impact as Elain’s own whispered words.

They both hang on to each other as the banter between their family continues until it starts to grow dark and the children grow restless along with the dimming light. Saying goodbye they watch as Nesta and Cassian drive back to their home as well as Feyre and Rhys.

Elain and Azriel walked back into the house, hand in hand with Hope running ahead and June knocked out on her father’s shoulder.

Laughing Elain follows her oldest into Hope’s room while Az puts June in her crib. With the girls in bed they head to their own bed together.

“I still can’t believe I get to do this every night forever,” Az whispers into the darkness as he pulls his wife into his arms. She rests a hand on his chest and smiles at her husband.

“I can’t either,” Elain says, pressing kisses onto Az’s bare chest.

“We have to be up early,” Azriel tells her as she continues down his body.

“I don’t care,” Az chuckles before pulling his wife back up and flipping her onto her back.

“Well then I guess it’s about to be a long night,” he whispers in Elain’s ear, rocking his erection against her sensitive core. Elain moans into a searing kiss.

This is the dream, Azriel thinks as he kisses his wife and pours all the love he feels for her and all the love she’s given him into one beginning kiss.

Tag list:

@thephilosophyofblank @roseteaofficial @sleeping-and-books @court-of-fuck-me-daddy @azriels-forgotten-shadow @tintinnabulary @jemma-nessian-and-elriel @chemicha @but-she-was-aelin-galathynius @ttakeitbacknoww @azrielismycinnamonrollprimary @mis-lil-red @poisonous00 @julesherondalex @theogvodkaaunt @rapunzel1523 @l0sts0uls1128 @lord-douglas-the-third @musicalfae @sezkins79 @eloeloeheheh @caldelray @abimomeopectore @tswaney17 @wonderlandatemypancakes @loysydark @imheretooa @illyriangarbage @emmejo26 @amitynotpity @alingelina @hav-illi-ard @amylindle @ellenoftroy @hizqueen4life @rheapendragon @judexcardanxgreenbriar @psmarra @hail-doodles @strangely-constructed-soul

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adolanables · 4 years

Text

Linked - Part 8 (E.D.)

Masterlist

“Alright…” Ethan popped back into the guest bedroom with three bowls balanced in his hands. “Jonathan just left - we’ve got vanilla, chocolate, and my personal favorite- cookie dough.”

“Oh, wow.” Anna sat up, a soft smile on her face as her husband sat down on the edge of the bed with raised eyebrows.

“So… which one sounds good?”

Sucking her lip between her teeth and tilting her head, Anna let out a puff of air. “Can I try them all?”

Ethan smiled widely and nodded, sitting the chocolate and cookie dough down on the bedside table. Soon, he was spooning a biteful of vanilla icy goodness into Anna’s mouth. Her eyes slipped shut as she swallowed. “Woah… I’ve been missing out on this!?” She giggled, opening her mouth again for another bite full that he willingly gave her.

“I’ve always thought that was such a stupid rule.” Letting her try the chocolate, Ethan shook his head - unbelievable that she had never been able to have this before.

With a shake of her head and a shrug Anna spoke. “There are so many rules, but this is not one that crossed my mind all that much.” She wrinkled her nose at the taste of the chocolate, letting Ethan know she didn’t like it. “I had no idea how good sweets were.”

“You’re using the home gym, aren’t you?” He questioned, taking a bite of the ice cream himself as Anna nodded at him. “Well, I don’t see why you can’t have sweets as long as you’re doing that. So no one gets suspicious.”

“I am using it - I just don’t have much other than a dress to workout in.” She shrugged, willingly taking the bowl of cookie dough from Ethan as he started to finish off the chocolate.

“Oh - no problem.” Ethan shrugged. “I can get some things for you, don’t worry.”

“You’re sure no one will wonder-”

“I’m a Dolan.” Ethan smirked at her, not loving the use of his famous name, but knowing it was true. “There are some things I can get away with pretty easily.”

Rolling her eyes and giggling slightly Anna nodded. “Okay, okay. Noted.”

The pair finished the ice cream quickly, both of them falling down into the bed and letting out a sigh. Ethan reached up to turn the lamp off, his body a few inches away from Anna’s. He wasn’t sure if Anna wanted to be held - their relationship seemed to have mended in the last few hours but he didn’t want to push her.

“Ethan?” She spoke up, breaking the silence in the dark room. Her cheeks were heating up and she was grateful that it was dark.

“Hm?” He rolled over, knees knocking against hers.

“Do you think you could take me to see my family soon?” She whispered, feeling her nerves ramp up again. Ethan’s warm hand moved to rub softly on her forearm.

“Yes, of course.” He assured her, taking the initiative to tug on her hips and pull her into his chest. Anna let out a soft sigh and nuzzled her face into his chest - the only time she had been this close to someone was when her mother used to comfort her. Now it was Ethan. His right arm rested beneath her neck, the other tucked into her hair as her legs tangled in between his.

Sure, Ethan had been close to women in the past - so many he couldn’t even count them. He never felt this sort of intimacy in his entire life; Anna’s small breaths on his collarbone and tiny movements of her fingers resting on his stomach made his heart swell. Maybe - just maybe - he understood why Grayson was so excited about his wife.

The next day, Ethan had Jonathan set up a lunch with Anna’s parents and younger sister Margaret. They would travel to Anna’s childhood home that Saturday and spend a few hours with her maiden family. Ethan had to spend time at the office that day, but had Jonathan send a note to his wife letting her know of the plans.

Anna’s heart felt like it was going to burst out of her chest as she read the small letter over and over. She was going to get to see her family and she couldn’t have been more excited. Truthfully, she was grateful she and Ethan had waited this long before going to see them. The last thing she wanted was her parents to realize she was unhappy - they would never forgive themselves. After last night, it seemed as though things had changed drastically.

Ethan had woken up and brought Anna breakfast in bed - something she didn’t even realize husbands did for their wives. He had kissed her softly as he left for work, promising to be back early tonight.

“Are you ready?” Ethan spoke through the crack in the bedroom door as Anna finished getting dressed for their lunch date. The pair had maintained their closeness over the last few days, Ethan noticing how sore his wife was had not suggested fornicating again. She needed to rest and recover from her first experience before this became a regular occurrence.

Anna popped out of the room, a long red gown on with her hair flowing freely - something she realized her husband loved. “Yes - ready.” Her smile was huge as she slipped her hand into Ethan’s - she was convinced this was going to be the best day ever.

When they arrived at her childhood home, Ethan couldn’t help but smile as he watched Anna let out a shriek of excitement. She had started to open up so much and he was really getting to see what her personality was like - and he loved it. Her parents and sister stood on the porch, awaiting the arrival of their middle daughter and son in law.

Anna waited for Ethan to help her out of the car before she sprinted towards her mother, arms wrapping around her so fast. It took everything in her to not burst into tears - she had missed them so much.

“Ethan - great to see you again.” Mr. Watson shook Ethan’s hand, a small smile on his lips. The man was sincerely happy he was able to see his daughter at all after giving her away.

“You too, sir.” Ethan smiled back, resting his hand on Anna’s back as she finished hugging her sister.

“Oh, I hope you two are ready to eat.” Mrs. Watson beamed, turning on her heel to lead the pair into the dining room.

After the meal - which was filled with small talk - Mr. Watson went into the parlour for cigars while the women stayed in the dining room to clean up.

“Anna, dear - how are things?” Mrs. Watson smiled, feeling confident her daughter was doing well and was in good hands.

With a soft smile, Anna nodded. “Great - really great.”

“I’m so jealous that you get to go to the Hailette ball!” With a huff and stomp of her foot, Margaret reminded Anna that not much had changed.

Tilting her head in confusion, Anna raised an eyebrow, looking back and forth between her mother and sister. “Why would I be going to that?”

The Hailette ball was for the Hailette elite - not all upper class families were considered elite and the Watsons definitely weren’t. Mr. Watson did well for himself, but he was a first generation upper class man - a rarity in Hailette. For years, Margaret and Anna heard stories of the Hailette ball - the elite couples dressed up in extravagant dresses and had an extravagant dinner with lots of dancing and conversation.

“The Dolans are top sponsors, Anna - of course you’re going!” Her mother beamed, hands clutching her chest in excitement. “It’s next Friday night - has Ethan not informed you?”

Anna was shocked for a moment, but shrugged knowing Ethan wouldn’t just leave her hanging. “Oh wow - I had no idea.” She would be lying if she said she wasn’t excited; the Hailette ball seemed like a fairy tale and the fact that she gets to go was giving her butterflies.

A few hours of talking with her family later, Ethan cleared his throat in the doorway drawing her attention from her sister and mother. His eyebrows were raised, a small smile on his lips as he observed his wife enjoying her family time. “It’s almost four, Anna - we should be getting home.”

“Yes, of course.” Anna breathed, a small smile on her face as she stood and hugged her family goodbye. Her father stood at the front door, his arms softly embracing her and shaking Ethan’s hand - he felt proud to call him his son in law.

“Are you alright?” Ethan’s voice was quiet as the pair drove away, the engine rumbling the only noise filling the car. Anna had been exceptionally quiet for the last twenty minutes - something he wouldn’t have been shocked by a few days ago.

With a sniffle and a quick nod of her head. “I’m okay; just hard leaving.”

Ethan felt his chest tighten as he heard the shakiness of her voice. “We can go see them again, I promise.” His hand left the steering wheel to rest comfortingly on her knee. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Nodding her head, she gave him a small smile - he was trying. “Oh - um - do we go to the Hailette ball?”

“Shit - yes.” He chuckled, throwing his head back against the headrest. “I completely forgot - we’ve been doing so much financially at work I just didn’t think about how you need to prep.” Squeezing her knee, Ethan easily turned the steering wheel down the winding road. “I’ll have Jonathan arrange a fitting for you Monday morning.”

“Perfect, thanks.” Giving her husband a small smile, Anna was quiet for the ride homel. When they pulled into the driveway, the sun was just starting to set.

Ethan sprinted around his car to help his wife out - something he usually wouldn’t do, but he felt the urge. As she stood up, Ethan’s brow furrowed in a look of concern. Anna looked up at him with wide eyes as she felt liquid traveling down her legs. She was mortified; her hand came up to cover her mouth as she turned around to see the giant blood stain she’d left on Ethan’s seat.

“I am so sorry, sir.” She gulped, she was sure her face was beet red as she thanked the heavens she was wearing a long dress.

Ethan took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. He wasn’t mad at her at all, but he had zero experience with a woman’s period and was honestly a little freaked out. “It’s completely fine - I’ll have Jonathan take the car tomorrow to get it cleaned.” Quickly turning his attention to his wife who looked like she was about to cry.

“This is mortifying.” Sniffling and letting out a sigh she looked at Ethan with glossy eyes. “I’m going to go inside and get cleaned up.”

Ethan watched with concern as Anna bolted inside and up the stairs; he came inside short after - sending Jonathan a quick text and locking the door. The last thing he wanted was for Anna to feel bad for having her period. In the past, at any other time if a woman told him she was on her period - he was out of there. He wanted nothing to do with the bloody mess. With that being said, Ethan soon found himself on the phone with his mother asking what he could do to ease the discomfort for his wife.

“Eth- what are you doing?” Anna emerged from the bathroom in a fresh night-gown to see Ethan holding a hot water bottle in his hand.

“Oh - um-” He cleared his throat, internally rolling his eyes at how awkward he was being. “I was thinking you might like this… for your stomach.”

“Oh, thanks.” Smiling widely at her husband who clearly had tried so hard to find a solution to her monthly problem. Fortunately, Anna never had painful periods, but she wasn’t going to turn down his offer. “That will help a lot.” She let Ethan lay the warmed bottle on her stomach as she got comfortable in the bed, her eyes fluttering shut as he pulled her into his side.

That night Ethan held his wife tightly to his chest after the bottle cooled, her curly hair was in a top knot that was tickling underneath his chin as her face was smushed against his bare chest. Ethan wasn’t sure how he was feeling after today. He had a great conversation with Mr. Watson, but it made him feel uneasy seeing Anna get so upset leaving. Was she not falling for him? Were the past few days useless to her? He wasn’t sure - maybe she was just sensitive to her family. What he did know was that he was going to keep trying to do everything he could to make her feel those things for him.

#ethan dolan #grayson dolan #the dolan twins #dolantwin fanfic #ethan dolan fanfic #ethan dolan smut #the dolan twin smut #ethan dolan fluff #ethan dolan imagine #adolanables #linked!ethan

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captainillogical · 5 years

Text

Devil’s Ballroom Ch.7

A year after the events from the earth’s final attack, Little Homeworld is finally complete, and there’s a new jazz bar where gems and humans mingle and drink. - As you’re typing back a reply, someone pulls the stool out next to you and takes a seat. You see a sliver of pink out of the corner of your eye as you try not to actually Look. Oh god. It’s her. God can’t help us now.

Spinel/Reader

collab with my lovely wife @firstofficertightpants

ya’ll im sorry lmao

You spend the rest of your evening doing exactly none of the errands that you needed to deal with today. Instead, you're laying on your couch and texting your friends.

Y/N: I'm so tornnnn.

Y/N: Do I say something about the cheek smooch?

Y/N: Should I leave it be?

Y/N: Because she's texting like nothing happened.

Y/N: What if I'm reading too much into it??

Y/N: What if that's just how she shows friendship affection???

Y/N: I might make it so fucking awkward if I assume something!

Y/N: This entire ordeal is mortifying!!!

Y/N: I want nothing more than to dig a big hole and lie in it forever.

Y/N: I might be low-key having a panic attack about this rn but what's new.

Harper: Y/N. chill. you're way overreacting to this.

Harper: even if it meant nothing, she still likes you as a friend right?

Harper: i think it would take a lot for her to like.. not wanna stay friends lol.

Alex: im just saying you could probably kiss her and she'd be ok with it

Alex: cheek kisses are pretty forward

Harper: don't listen to him. all of his relationships ended in failure.

Alex: wow

Alex: im seriously hurt

Harper: am I wrong?

Alex: no..

Harper: my point exactly.

Harper: i’m not saying you have nothing to lose or anything.

Harper: because i myself had to tread very carefully with leah..

Harper: but i think you should just see where it goes and not like

Harper: put too much emphasis on this incase it was nothing.

Y/N: Yeah see now you have me worried it WAS nothing!!

Alex: oh my goooooooddddddddddddddd

Alex: the both of you approach women so.. pathetically

Alex: take a risk

Alex: live a little

Alex: what is seriously the worst that could happen

Alex: she kills you??

Alex: lmao

Alex: its funny cuz of.. you know

Harper: i can’t wait to be home and smothering him with a pillow instead of affection.

Y/N: You and me both.

Y/N: Try being the only one available to play games with him.

Alex: both of you fucking love me okay

Alex: alsooooooo i get to be home the day after tomorrow

Alex: the alex is back, babieeeeee

Y/N: Harper please come home I’m BEGGING you.

Harper: sorry you gotta deal with him alone for another month lmao.

Y/N: Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

Alex: can i get a fucking crumb of love here please

You swipe over to the couple of messages Spinel has left you in the past couple of minutes while you were talking to your friends.

Spinel: It’s another stupid ball, I just found out.

Spinel: I told her that I’m sitting this one out this time.

Spinel: She has so many others that would absolutely love to help her, and yet, still absolutely insists that I must be there.

Spinel: I don’t want to go back to homeworld right now, and not for this.

Y/N: And you put your foot down? Hell yeah, dude.

Y/N: Planning a ball for a bunch of gems sounds like a chore anyway.

Spinel: oh, it is, believe me.

Spinel: And they need everything to be PERFECT.

Spinel: Which isn’t realistic anymore now that they don’t expect any of the gems to stay in line with their gem class nowadays.

Spinel: The last ball they threw almost 4 months ago was utterly chaotic.

Y/N: For thousands of years y'all as a race never pushed to deviate from the norm, and now that you guys are allowed to? I’d go batshit with it too.

Y/N: Being stifled in everyday life, and finally you’re free?

Y/N: Fuck, I’d go around fusing with anyone!

Spinel: That is precisely what too many of them did.

Y/N: Lmao. I wish I could’ve seen that.

You tab back over to your group chat for a moment to see what they’re talking about.

Harper: see? they’re everywhere.

Harper: i wasn’t expecting the campsite to have so many.

Alex: you could have built an army and instead you took pictures

Alex: do you know how easy it is to lure chipmunks?

Alex: oh that lil guy on the bottom right is so fucking chunky i love him

Harper: that’s the one that got the closest when i fed them. :3

Alex: oh i fuckin BET

Alex: you dont get that chubby in the wild without takin a few risks

Alex: if u know what i mean ;)

Harper: i hate whatever you just implied.

Y/N: It’s not a conversation with Alex unless you roll your eyes at least 3 times.

Alex: hey i thought it was 4 times

Alex: dont insult me

Alex: anyway, y/n

Alex: are you workin the day i come back

Y/N: Yeah I’m actually scheduled a double.

Alex: scheduled

Y/N: Yes.

Alex: a double

Y/N: Yes.

Alex: he can’t SCHEDULE you a DOUBLE

Y/N: He can if he asks me ahead of time as a favor.

Alex: that fuckin bastard

Alex: always ruining my plans

Harper: you’re still mad at him for firing you last summer, huh.

Alex: OF COURSE I AM

Y/N: Bro you stole like $300 of cotton candy sugar that summer.

Y/N: It’s only fair.

Y/N: Besides, I’m only doing this because he said he’d give me a long weekend for it.

Alex: kay well

Alex: i guess i’ll just go bug you at work and wait for you to get off that day :'(

Y/N: Get me written up again, I swear to god.

Your phone chimes several times, and you swipe down to see messages from both Spinel and Steven. You check Spinel's first.

Spinel: Do me a favor and ignore any messages Steven has sent you.

Y/N: What are you, my boss?

Spinel: I MEAN IT

You quickly switch over to Steven's texts.

Steven: I was going to ask you if your date with Spinel went okay, but I'm assuming it went fine considering she hasn't really stopped talking about you.

Ohhhh my god, this is wild. You reply to him.

Y/N: It wasn't a date as far as I know.

Y/N: I had fun.

Y/N: She's telling me to not read your messages, lmao.

Y/N: Also what do you mean she hasn't stopped talking about me??

Steven: She’s been lying on my floor for the last hour basically gushing about you.

Steven: But you didn’t hear that from me!

Steven: :D

Y/N: Haha thanks, kid.

You switch back over to text Spinel, and get up off the couch to make yourself some tea. Pulling out your kettle, you turn the stove on and grab some raspberry flavored abomination tea bag that your dad loves more than any of the other good tea flavors.

Y/N: Sooooo.

Spinel: You talked to him, didn’t you.

Y/N: Hahaha noooo. :)

Spinel: The fuck did he say?

Y/N: Absolutely nothing.

Spinel: Seriously? I was sure he’d reveal something embarrassing.

Y/N: Nope! You should probably get off his floor eventually, though.

Your kettle goes off and you grab a clean mug, and pour the boiling water into it along with the tea packet. You look down at your phone, and grin.

Spinel: goddammit.

You let the bag steep for a little bit, and add in a small amount of sugar. Walking up to your bedroom you take a snap of Jellybean half lounging, half falling off the stairs and send it to Spinel. She replies with a couple heart emojis, and you wonder if Steven was the one to show her the proper use of them. You set your cup of tea down on your desk, and turn your computer on. It’s evening now, and it’s much too late to do anything left with the rest of your day productivity-wise, so you settle in on playing more minecraft. Your thoughts wander quite a bit, and you find yourself stuck on thinking about Spinel. Naturally. You wonder about a lot of things she’s learned while staying on earth, from things like - does she pay rent? Does she have a job? Does she know what taxes are? Does she know what a relationship with a human looks like? She said she watched a movie, but didn’t exactly elaborate. You don’t know what human-norms she’s been exposed to. You can’t even concentrate enough to mine any of this redstone for Alex, and you nearly die in-game when the thought of ‘does she know what sex is?’ pops into your mind. You grab your phone and shoot Spinel another message.

Y/N: Quick question.

Y/N: If you don’t mind me asking.

It takes her a few minutes to reply.

Spinel: Sure?

Y/N: Do you know how humans are made?

Spinel: w

Spinel: Yes?

Spinel: Steven told me about it a few weeks ago actually.

Spinel: Why are you asking?

Y/N: No reason! Just curious is all.

Spinel: Hm.

Yeah you’re not too confident that she actually knows, and you’re too chickenshit to elaborate right now. You’ll enlighten her later. You spend the rest of the night browsing memes on your phone, and texting your friends and Spinel on occasion. Before you know it, your eyes drift close with your phone in hand.

You wake up when your alarm goes off for your morning shift, and curse at yourself for not charging it last night. It’s at a solid 32%, which isn’t really enough to go about your day, but you’ll have to make do. You get ready for a hopefully not shitty day, lock up the house, and head in to work.

It’s a complete shitshow when you come in, and you turn your phone off to save battery and concentrate on dealing with more than an average amount of tourists. You find Mr. Smiley sleeping in the breakroom/office/supply closet, and have half a mind to lock him in there from the outside for the rest of your shift. It’s pretty busy, and messy, and it isn’t until you’re there for several exhausting hours that you finally have enough time for a break. You turn your phone on, and instantly you’re flooded with messages from several different people. Ugh.

A couple from your dad - just checking in, really. Group chat too as usual, but none of it seems overly important. One from Spinel, and several from Steven. You open up Spinel’s message first.

Spinel: Do you think we could talk about a couple of things later?

Vague, and a little concerning. You text back an apology for getting back to her so late, and open the messages from Steven.

Steven: Hey are you busy?

Steven: I’m dealing with a bit of a situation right now, and could use your help.

Steven: Spinel locked herself in my bathroom, and she won’t come out.

Steven: She refuses to answer to anyone, and several of us have tried.

Steven: I’m just really worried about her, and you guys seemed to bond, so I was hoping..

Steven: That maybe you could come over?

Steven: Thanks regardless.

You check the timestamp, and that was over an hour ago. Jesus christ.

Y/N: Steven I’m so sorry, my phone was off and I’m at work, give me a few and I’ll be right over, okay?

Y/N: I’ll be quick.

He replies almost immediately with a “please” and you pocket your phone. You try not to worry too hard about Spinel as you rush over to grab your things, and knock on Mr. Smiley’s office/broom closet door. He opens it groggily, clearly just waking up.

“Yeah?” he slowly blinks at you.

“I gotta leave early. Emergency.” You stare at him, trying to not be pissed at his lack of work ethic.

“Are you for real? You’ve got another 3 hours left.” He says and crosses his arms, and you glare at him.

“I’ve been working my ass off while you’ve been sleeping this whole time, AND I’m covering your ass tomorrow so you can go meet your old friend! So the LEAST you can do is let me go early when I have an emergency!!!” You almost yell out at him, and he holds his hands up in defense.

“Okay, okay! Fine. Only because you’re a good worker.” He says, and has the gall to look at least a little ashamed of himself.

“Damn right I am.” You spin around and head out of the building, practically running.

You almost trip and bite it several times on the way over to Steven’s place, but you’re more worried about Spinel. You’ve only been to his place twice, but once you’re there you run up the stairs and open the door without knocking. You’re greeted by the only two people in the living room, Pearl, and Steven.

“Oh, she’s here!” Pearl says and nudges Steven, who looks up from typing on his phone.

“Y/N! Thank god you’re here.” He says with furrowed eyebrows.

“What happened?” You say and shut the door, and cross the room over to him.

“I’m not sure! We were just working on something together for Amethyst, and she got a call from Blue and Yellow. She’s been ignoring them lately, and they’ve been bothering me in turn because of that, so I asked her to take the call just see what they want.” He runs his hand through his brown curls, and just for a moment, you see that 12 year old him in again. The obvious stress masks just how young he really is, and you feel bad that he can’t live life like a normal kid. “She went outside to take the call, and was out there for quite a while. I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but I did hear some yelling. And just when I was going over to make sure they were alright, she comes back in tears, eyes spiraling like months ago, and nearly knocks Pearl over rushing into the bathroom.”

“And nothing since?” You inquire, fidgeting with your hands.

“No,” He says, frustratedly. “I’ve been trying to reach the diamonds to see what this is all about, but I’ve only been getting the pearls. I don’t know what to do. She hasn’t been like this in months. What were they talking about to make her this upset?”

“Maybe I can find out. You said she’s in your bathroom?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, the one right over here.” He says and points to it.

“Is it locked?” You ask.

“No,” Pearl glances towards the bathroom door and crosses her arms. “The lock has been broken on it for a while, since Peridot joined us actually. Both Garnet and I tried opening it, but I think once Spinel hears someone trying to come in she blocks the door.”

Hm.

“I’m gonna try something, but you guys are gonna wanna stay away.” You say to the two of them. “I don’t want to overwhelm her with more than one person.”

“Let us know if we can do anything?” Steven makes to pass by you and gives your arm a light squeeze. “And thanks for coming to help.”

“Anytime, dude.” You give him a half smile, and walk over to his bathroom. You turn to take a look back at the other two, and they’re already in the kitchen discussing something in soft tones. You move to knock at the door, make two light taps against the frame, and wait for an answer.

A couple seconds pass, and nothing. Not even any movement. Nervously, you knock again, a little louder this time, and wait for a good ten seconds.

Still nothing.

You take a deep breath, reach out to grab the door handle, and very slowly and quietly open the bathroom door. You see nothing but absolute darkness, and step in. You feel around the wall to your right and flip a switch just as you close the door behind you with an audible click. The room instantly floods with the dark red light of the heat lamp, and before you can even think about finding another light source, you find yourself slammed up against the wall and let out a surprised yelp. You open your eyes to see Spinel’s face inches from yours, pupils wild, her hands splayed against your shoulders.

“U-um,” Your voice cracks a little. “Hey.”

You watch her eyes take a second to find yours, and almost instantly, she lets you go, arms trembling.

“W.. what are YOU DOING HERE!?” She cries, large tears pouring down her face, eyebrows raised in confusion, mouth trembling. Her hair is in loose pigtails, strands untamed around her face, cheeks stained with tear tracks. She looks like a mess, and your heart breaks, just a little. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt y-”

“I’m fine.” You cut her off. “I should have said who it was outside the door, I’m sorry. And um.. Steven texted me while I was at work, and told me what was going on so I rushed over..” You trail off as you watch Spinel’s entire body shake, and she covers her face with both of her hands.

“I can’t believe I just did that.” You hear her wavering voice, muffled behind her fists, and she lets out a choked sob. “Maybe they were right. M-maybe I’m not meant to-” She quickly moves her hands down to look at the floor with wide, vulnerable eyes, and struggles to form the rest of her words. You hear her breathing pick up pace, and you’re starting to realize she’s hyperventilating.

“Spinel, look at me.” Her eyes shoot up to yours, lips trembling. “I need you to breathe.” You do what your friends have always done with you, and gently grab both of her hands and hold them with yours, thumbs stroking her palms in slow circles. She freezes up instantly, and you’re about to panic, because while a familiar touch helps ground you, you register that maybe it’ll make it worse for her. But before you can pull your hands away, her hands relax ever so slightly, and she lets out a shaky breath. “Good. Just like that.” You motion for her to follow your breathing inverals, and she copies you, hands still shaking in yours.

It’s been a while since you’ve had to deal with something like this, but you’re thankful for having similar life experiences. After a solid minute or two of this her breathing is back to a normal pace, but she’s still crying, and now not meeting your eyes. Almost like she’s avoiding them.

“Look, I.. I don’t know what happened with you and the diamonds, but you can talk to me about it if you’d like. No pressure, though.” You give her hands a small squeeze, and she whimpers, looking up to meet your gaze. Tears are still actively streaming down her face, and you have no idea how to make any of this better. It physically hurts you to see her like this.

“C-can I not talk about it? I don’t think I’m ready..” She pulls a hand from yours, and wipes at her face. She just kind of smeared half of her face with wetness, and she looks miserable.

“You don’t have to talk about anything, Spinel.” You look at her, making sure she sees it in your eyes. You slowly let go of her other hand, and hold your arms out in a silent question instead. Her mouth opens slightly, the red glow of the light around her making her look extremely vulnerable and soft, and she looks at your open arms with a blank face for a moment before understanding. Almost instantaneously, she throws herself against you and wraps her arms around your shoulders, shoving her face into the cradle of your neck. You envelop your arms around her tightly, giving her sides a squeeze, and you feel her start to shake again.

She lets out an unsteady sigh, and hiccups out another small sob. You pull her to lean fully against you as you stand there, bracing your back against the bathroom door. She lets you maneuver her, and you rest the side of your face against her temple while she cries. You resign yourself to letting her cry on you until she’s done, if she needs to.

You feel her sniffle against your neck, and try not to mind that she’s getting your shirt soaked. You give her back a few gentle rubs, feeling her body quiver against yours as she’s trying to control her choked breathing. You’re not really counting the minutes, as right now you’re currently having way too many rampant thoughts about what the fuck the diamonds could’ve said to her. You’re mad as hell, honestly, and if you could say shit to them, you would in a heartbeat. You don’t want to make anything worse for her though, as much as you want to steal her phone and video call them to curse them out. It takes a few more minutes, but eventually her crying dies down, and you feel her breathing even out. Slowly, she dislodges her arms from twisting around you two, and you feel a sigh, her breath hot against your neck. You do your best to school your facial expression as you’re realize just how close you are to her, and she pulls her face from its resting position to look at you. She looks awful.

“U-um,” She lifts up her hand to attempt to wipe her face, failing to rub half the tears away. “I don’t really want to go out there yet..”

“You don’t have to.” You say, quietly. “I can leave if you’d like some quiet to yourself.” Her face looks panicked for a second, and she grabs your wrist.

“Please don’t leave me.” She says, voice wavering again. You try not to let your heart shatter at her tone.

“I won’t if you want me here.” You say, and sigh softly. “Here, hold on a second.”

She lets your wrist go as you move slightly over to the sink, turn the hot water on, and grab a clean hand towel from the counter. You soak it in water, and squeeze out all the excess. Towel in hand, you turn back to her, and she’s looking at you cautiously. You lift the towel slightly, motioning to her face.

“May I?” You ask, and she nods slightly.

Tenderly, you brush a couple strands of hair away from her face, grasp her chin with your left hand and pull her forward, gently pressing the towel to her cheek. She closes her eyes, and her shoulders sag a little as she lets you dab at her face, cleaning her of any tear stain marks. She sighs into your touch, and it strikes you that it would be so easy to just.. lean in and kiss her.

Your brain almost short circuits and you snap your thoughts back to reality. There’s a time and place for everything. This is not the time, nor the place.

Once you’re satisfied that she looks a lot better than before, you pull your hands away to toss the rag in the sink, and Spinel, for a brief moment, looks disappointed that you had stopped. Which.. kind of gives you an idea.

“Can I try something? Harper used to do this thing with me when I.. had similar breakdowns.” You ask her. She raises her eyebrow in response, clearly exhausted from crying so much. “Here.” You say, and take her hand and lead her over to the rim of the bathtub. You sit down on the edge, and motion for her to sit in front of you on the floor. She takes a seat in front of you, still confused, but obeys nonetheless. “Can I touch you?” You ask her, watching her face to make sure she’s alright.

She looks up at you, the red light in the room flooding the entirety of her face, making her hair darker, and the whites of her eyes a bit more dramatic.

“Yeah.” She says in reply, voice tired.

You reach out to her hair, and stop for a moment.

“Can I have you face the other direction, actually? Come over here.” You move to open your knees, making enough room for Spinel to turn around and lean against the bathtub. She’s close to you again.

“What are you..” She trails off as you start to take the hair ties out of her pigtails, one after the other. It takes a second, as it’s a bit tangled, but you manage to get both out, and let her hair fall down. You comb out her hair with your fingers, gently, and she sighs audibly while leaning into your touch. You run your short nails along her scalp, scratching and massaging as you smooth out her hair, attempting to pull all the tangles out.

“Touch used to calm me down, and Harper was really good at it, honestly.” You say while pulling out a particularly difficult tangle without hurting her. Her hair is long like this, and you like it. You wish you could grow your hair this long, but it’s kind of a pain to deal with, and the longest you’ve ever had yours wasn’t even to your mid back, you think to yourself. “Sometimes she’d give me shoulder and neck massages, but I preferred that she’d just play with my hair. There’s just something different about another person touching your hair.”

“I kind of get what you mean.” She says, tiredly.

“Can I braid your hair?” You lean closer to look at her face.

“Do what you want.” She says, looking fairly relaxed.

“Cool. Anyway, while Harper was good at that, Alex, on the other hand, was just terrible at any kind of physical comfort. He’s genuine, and he tries, but he’s an idiot. He’s a lot better at distractions, for the most part.” You run your fingers through her hair one more time, before starting to separate her hair into three parts for a french braid. “He’s funny, and comes from a large family, so he always has stories and jokes. Whenever I’d have a panic attack, those two were always so good about being there for me. I don’t know what I’d do without them.”

You notice that Spinel‘s shoulders have lost most of the tension in them, and you’re secretly relieved. You keep talking to fill the quietness around you two, because you’ve always hated the quiet during moments like these. Your friends aren’t here, so it’s up to you to make up for it.

“It was kind of hard, at first though,” You say, and start looping the chunks of hair around your fingers, starting at the top of her head. “Because for a while there, back when I was 16 and dealing with the worst of my abandonment issues, I clung onto Harper like a baby koala. I had this super weird crush on her even though we had been friends since we were practically babies. I think I idolized her because she was just.. good to me.” You accidentally tug a little too hard on a strand of hair, wince and utter an apology while massaging the spot on her scalp. “I’m glad that didn’t ruin our friendship, but for a while there I really pushed my feelings onto her, which was kinda fucked up on my part.”

“Hm..” Spinel mumbles. “I kind of had a thing for Pink, I think. Which ended up screwing with me even more after what she did.” You stare at the back of her head and pause your hands for a second. Huh. Yeah, you had a hunch.

“If she were still alive, I’d punch her in the face for you, I hope you know.” You state, in full seriousness. This gets the first chuckle that you’ve heard from her today, and you’re secretly overjoyed.

“I’d pay to watch that.” She says, and you laugh out loud. You see her smile, just barely.

“So,” You continue, with both your hands and conversation. “A week or so after my 17th birthday, right after Harper talked to me about this guy at school that she liked, I confess to her. And not like a, ‘oh hey, you’re my best friend and I really like you’ kind of way, either. It was more like a, ‘have a mental breakdown over your best friend liking someone else and make them feel like shit about it on your walk home from school’ kind of confession.” Your hands reach the nape of her neck now, braid mostly done on her head, but you’ve got around another 20 inches of length before being finished.

“Harper avoided me for nearly a week after that. I was absolutely pathetic, and inconsolable. Alex was fed up with my shit after a few days, and nearly slapped me over it. He would’ve been in the right, doing so, honestly. I was a selfish asshole who only thought about her own feelings, and not about her best friends.” Your eyes drift to Spinel’s face, and her eyes are closed, eyebrows unfurrowed.

“Anyway,” You’re nearly done with the entire braid now. “She did end up forgiving me. Thankfully. I don’t know what I’d do if it were my fault that I’d split up our friend group.” You pick up the discarded hair tie from earlier, and tie it around the end of the braid.

“I’m all done, by the way.” You say to her. She opens her eyes tentatively, and she looks sleepy. You stand up, and stretch your back. She also gets up on wobbly legs, and turns to look at you.

“Um.” She’s avoiding your eyes. “Thank you. For this.” She’s twisting her hands together, nervously. You lean your face closer to get at eye-level with her.

“Anytime.. and for the record, you look really cute in a braid.” You say and smile, giving her a cheeky wink. You watch her entire face from the neck up turn bright red, and think that you could probably do this forever, and never get tired. She gives you a noncommittal grunt, halfheartedly smacks your arm and you grin at her.

You hear a quiet knock at the door, and look over to Spinel. She shrugs, so I guess it’s okay now.

“You can come in!” You say to the door. It opens slowly, and you see Steven peek his head in.

“Um.. are we okay?” He asks, clearly very worried about her.

“I’ll be okay.” She says, and you think that maybe she should lay down and sleep. You verbalize this immediately.

“Spinel. I think you should go take a nap.” You look at her, and she blinks at you. “I’m serious.”

“She’s kind of right.” Steven says in agreement with you. Spinel gives the both of you a shrug, and even that seems like it’s taking a lot out of her.

“Okay.” She says, and turns to walk out of the bathroom. Steven opens the door wider, and you can see Pearl in the kitchen leaning against the counter, trying to not seem like she’s intently watching all of you.

Spinel makes her way over to the couch and takes a seat, sitting up rigidly. You walk over to her to make sure she’s okay before you leave for home.

“You know you can text me, right? And if you need me, I’ll be available. I’ll leave my volume turned on.” She gives you a nod. “Oh, and.. take this,” You say, and pull off the pullover hoodie you’re wearing right now, and hand it over to her. “Alex used to let me wear his oversized sweaters, and they used to help me sleep, so..”

She tentatively reaches out, and takes it from your hands.

“Thanks.” She says, and gives you a small smile. With her hair pulled back like this she almost looks human, for a fleeting moment. You sometimes forget she’s a gem. You return the smile back at her, and turn around to leave.

After grabbing your bag that you set down earlier from beside the couch, you head over to the front door and open it. Shouldering the bag, you start to shut the door and see Steven behind you. He closes the door behind him, his face searching yours for something you don’t quite know.

“I don’t know what you did, but thank you.” He says, completely genuine.

“You don’t have to thank me. I’d do it for you, too, you know.” You say to him, and he smiles.

“That’s why I like you, Y/N. You’re sweet.”

“Yeahhhh, don’t tell anyone, though. You’ll ruin my reputation.” You smirk, giving him the side-eye. He laughs and pats your back.

“Ohhhhhh no! Whatever will you do!?” He rolls his eyes in jest. “Get home safe, okay?”

“No promises.” You reply, and jump down his steps, two at a time.

It doesn’t take you long to get home, and you’re pretty tired yourself. You make yourself busy by preparing dinner, cleaning the kitchen a little, and calling your dad for another check-in. Before you know it, it’s nearly 11, and you need to sleep for your double shift tomorrow that you almost forgot about. You’re laying in bed browsing social media before drifting off, and you receive a text from Spinel. You swipe down and open the message.

Spinel: Thanks again for today.

Spinel: I baked some new cookies with Steven, and would like to give you some tomorrow if that’s okay?

You smile to yourself. Ughhhhhhhh, you’re catching the feelings disease, and you swat the air around you like it somehow physically manifested around you.

Y/N: I work literally all day, but feel free to stop by and give them to me.

Y/N: Then I get to see a pretty familiar face to break up all the lame tourists.

Y/N: Cuz that sounds super nice. ;)

Spinel: I’ll see you tomorrow, then.

She didn’t react to your obvious teasing, but you won’t let that discourage you. You fall asleep thinking of the many different ways you can poke fun at her, and this time, you charge your phone.

You wake up the next morning feeling well-rested for once, and get ready for work. Alex has sent you a couple texts about when his flight will arrive, and when he’ll roughly come to meet you. Sometime around 4pm, apparently. You shoot Spinel a good morning text, and she replies almost instantly with the same, which makes you smile.

You head to work, texting your group chat about what happened yesterday with Spinel, and give them basically all the details. Alex makes fun of you for a bit, so you curse him out and pocket your phone as you clock in. Today’s going to suck, but you’ve got a few things to look forward to.

You make it a couple hours into your shift before you finally get a break, and Spinel texts you that she’ll drop by sometime in the afternoon once she’s done helping Bismuth with something. God you hope it’s not when Alex gets here, because you are so not fucking ready for that interaction. You eat your lunch and pray to any god out there that you could have one more day of peace.

You’re outside the main building repairing a couple parts on the carousel, ignoring the bulk of the tourists to focus on work. You don’t realize that quite a while has passed by, because someone walks up to you as you’ve got your head in a small door, and kicks you slightly on your ass. You jolt and bump your head against the opening, and you hear Alex burst out into laughter as you groan in pain.

God fucking dammit, this guy. You pull your head out to glare at him, screwdriver pointing at him threateningly.

“Do you want this up your ass? Because I can do that.” You say to him, and he laughs even harder. You roll your eyes at him.

“Don’t promise me with a good time, Y/N.” He says, and you stand up to smack him.

“I don’t think the pointy end would be a good time, idiot.” You deadpan stare at him. He grins.

“You don’t know what I’m into.” He shrugs, and flips his hair dramatically. You hate that he’s stupid and charming, and you love him so much.

“I know I haven’t seen you in 2 months, but like, I feel like you’ve grown taller?” You stare at him, a little mournfully. You’re the shortest one out of your friends, and you’re of average height. He also seems.. handsomer. You think he definitely got a lot more tan. He’s definitely grown into his looks, his dark curly hair and recently shaved face making him look older than you’re used to.

“I don’t think I did, but I think you’ve grown shorter.” He laughs obnoxiously, and you smack his arm again, which makes him laugh harder.

“You’re so mean to me, like all the time. Why do I love you?” You cross your arms and pout, because you know it gets a rise out of him.

“Youuuuuuu knowww, because I’m just so loveable and gorgeous and the smartest one in the group??” He flutters his eyelashes at you like he thinks he’s cute.

“Wow, you are none of these things.” You reply, smirking at him. He puts his hand over his heart in mock offense.

“Y/N, I’m offended. I’ve been here for like, five minutes, and I’ve received absolutely no affection from you. If I don’t get love, I will wilt and die. Do you want to be responsible for my death?” He opens his arms wide, and you roll your eyes dramatically, and stand there.

“We’re not doing this in public.” You say, standing your ground.

“Ohhh, YES we are, Y/N.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “Prepare yourself for the onslaught.”

You take a couple steps back, prepared to run. He grabs your arms, wraps his around your torso, and picks you up, swinging you around.

“Nooooooooooooooooo!!” You cry. “Put me down you oaf!”

“No! I want love!” He all but shouts, and spins you around. He grabs your cheek with one hand and starts giving you big ‘ol smooches all over your face, and you’re giggling and trying to push him away, when you hear something drop and spill on the pavement a good twenty feet from you. You look up.

It’s Spinel.

Her face is twisted with heartbreak, and before you can even speak up, she bolts.

You look down, and see the cookies she made you scattered on the ground.

#spinel x reader #spinel #su #steven universe #spinel self insert #fic #my fic #devils ballroom #look. im not sorry yall. i promise next chapter youll get what u want LMFAO

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shipping-receiving · 5 years

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JB Fav Fics

Ages ago, I reblogged @chickren‘s post (from 2013!) and I promised to give it a shot but got all tied up with my dissertation and my own fic. Now that my dissertation is done, I HAVE COMPLETED THIS. Bear in mind these answers might be a bit ‘dated’ as well (by a few months) because I’ve not been reading much fic on my end. Turns out when I’m writing my own, I can only hold one version of J/B in my head.

Anyway this list is LONG AND TOOK ME FOREVER and I also wrote comments because I can’t help myself. So everything is under the cut. I took out the Shuffled Challenge one (very 2013 lol) and I replaced it with a category called... favourite S8 fix-it. Can you believe it? After I made all this noise about not being able to read fix-its?

[J/B Fic Recs: Master Post if anyone needs it before we start things off]

Favourite fic set immediately after ADWD Second to fucking none: Honor Thy Regard by SigilBroken Nights Without Armor by bratanimus

Favourite fic set a long time after ADWD Oh. Salt Wife by Lady_in_Red. Breathtaking simplicity.

Favourite TV canon fic Pretty and Traveling Far by astolat A Man for All Seasons by dreadwulf

Favourite S8 fix-it Yes, I know. I can’t deal with fix-its. And yet. Ice by Gwen77 Ring Them Bells by kirazi Battle is the Great Redeemer by Lady_In_Red

Favourite modern AU Clean hands by you-know-who (... it’s Gwen77) + all the classics: Fever by Lady_In_Red On the Night’s Watch by Miss_M It’s Like Weather by ssstrychnine Beast and the Beast by SigilBroken And of course our recent fandom favourite: two halves of a soul by angel_deux

Favourite kiss (Don’t specify chapter) Okay this is kind of a random one but I remember re-reading Roommate Wanted by JustAGirl24 a couple months back, and when they finally kissed I wanted to freaking throw my phone across the room. It’s not even described in detail, it was just such a perfectly timed OMFG!!! THEY KISSED! moment.

Favourite smut Anything by Miss_M, good lord. My all-time favourite is Golden and True (modern AU, sequel to Ball and Chain), but for canon!verse it has to be Heart’s Desire and Spring Awakening. And obviously I have to say Flawed by francoeurs – smut exploring J/B’s Issues with a capital I? I’m THERE.

And for multi-chapter fic, Everyone Has Secrets by ellaria is fire. Oh and also, everyone’s favourite professor AU, Stacked by QuizzicalQuinnia.

Favourite UST On the Night’s Watch and Someone to Watch Over Me by Miss_M. I love that these two fics take place over such a short time (a few days) but they manage to feel like slow burns. That’s fucking skill right there.

Best written fic I hate this question. You want me to pick the best-written fic out of the FIVE THOUSAND J/B FICS ON AO3? Lmao I’m skipping.

Favourite fic with an unusual premise Multiverse central: All the Roads are Winding by ShirleyAnn66 In which Brienne can turn into a sea lion: This Is Your Wilderness by hardlyfatal GENDER SWAP: all knights are gallant and all maids are beautiful by janie_tangerine Jaime is a sculptor: Madonna of the Balcony by QuizzicalQuinnia Jaime does needlework: Hold This Threadbare Heart at Needlepoint by nire

Favourite action scene Words by astolat. The entire battle sequence.

Favourite dialogue Clean hands by Gwen77, Chapter 9. So cathartic, and SO MUCH HAPPENING. Not just J/B but Tyrion and Cersei on the phone too. I mean I just tried to re-read it to pick an excerpt (I can’t) and I already started crying lmao

Favourite characterization of Jaime A Man for All Seasons by dreadwulf. THE NUANCE. THE DETAIL.

Favourite characterization of Brienne Any fucking thing by Gwen77. Especially Clean hands, Diplomacy and Ice.

Favourite relationship development Where I follow, you’ll go by Lady_In_Red Beast and the Beast by SigilBroken, OBVIOUSLY It’s Like Weather by ssstrychnine Patience on a Monument by betts, even though they’re already friends, because betts makes me sit through Jaime/Sansa and Brienne/Tormund and yet I still re-read this.

Favourite use of non-typical character. Exclude these: Jaime, Brienne, Podrick, Hyle, Cersei, Sansa, Margaery, Tyrion, Daenerys, Selwyn, Tywin. Hmm this is a tough one. Maybe Loras the photographer in Living Fiction by Archetype_Electraheart

Favourite plot In This Light by SigilBroken for canon!verse endgame On the Night’s Watch by Miss_M and Everyone Has Secrets by ellaria for modern AU. I love J/B investigating stuff together.

Favourite title Nobody Knows / You Know and I Know by Miss_M “There’s a story,” Brienne says, “about a corrupt official who went to a sage and offered him to take part in a scheme, promising no one would ever know. ‘How can you say that?’ the sage replied. ‘I know, and you know, and the earth knows, and the sky knows.’”

Favourite WiP (finished or unfinished) With All Your Faults by seaspirit (close to the end!!!) The Descent by openmouthwideeye And this is finished but Tale As Old As Time by BrienneofThrace. She came back after like four years to finish it?! That alone is fandom magic.

Favourite long one-shot Pretty by astolat (wtf this is 30k?)

Favourite short one-shot OH MY GOD THE GLASSES FIC. Age Gap by ikkiM

Favourite drabble Mmmmm I don’t really read drabbles so I’ll skip this too.

Favourite beginning What is True, But Not Ideal by Vera: Jaime doesn’t appear for like four chapters and yet I was still on board.

Favourite ending IT’S FUCKING Clean hands by Gwen77 OKAY DON’T @ ME. Traveling Far by astolat – because she just Went There and gave J/B five kids The Sorrows That Women Cause by Mussimm (seventh and final part of Works and Days, in which they just... bang)

Favourite story twist more like the man you were meant to be by janie_tangerine. I mean, this isn’t really an internal twist, more like a twist on canon The Importance of Knocking by Miss_M, since it’s a story twist for Cersei lol.

Funniest story St George's Day by sansasparky The Best Legs You've Ever Seen by ikkiM

Favourite angst In the first version of this list I said I wouldn’t pick Gwen77 again for this one, and then I re-read Ice and cried my eyes out for like, the whole thing. Special mention for catherineflowers’ series We Need to Talk About…, because of how much she just commits entirely to some really dark stuff. It’s something I wouldn’t necessarily re-read, but just the audacity it took for her to write this is really impressive.

Favourite fluff The Higher Education of Brienne of Tarth and Drunken Shenanigans with Jaime and Brienne by BrienneofThrace. Anything by BrienneofThrace to be honest. She does the purest J/B. Also, Nothing That Is So, Is So by RoseHeart, and i get to be the other half of you + The 'Kiss Me' Series by sameboots.

Favourite Jaime line Yooooooo that part in Laying Siege by astolat when Jaime just launches into his wedding proposal: “I swear to you before these witnesses that I will protect Sansa Stark with my life, beside you. I will never take the field against her. I will take your name and your crest and your house as my own—”... I can feel myself being Brienne going WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK

Favourite Brienne line Yeah yeah here I go picking Gwen77 again. The very last lines of all her fics always slay me, but this is the only line I can quote verbatim, from Diplomacy: “Trapped, he had said, worry in his voice. Ruined. She had never felt so free.”

Favourite general line or excerpt I love the way Gwen77 commits to the motif of walls in Ice. I freaked out about it here. And then after all that talk about Brienne building up her walls she just HITS US WITH THIS FINAL LINE:

“Jaime was hers, encircling, warm, solid as a wall. He would catch her if she fell.”

Favourite non-romantic fic The tale of Squire!Brienne series by LadyRhiyana

Favourite maiming adaptation in a modern AU Fever by Lady_In_Red, because I love how the whole story is built on Jaime learning how to ride again with a mangled hand

Favourite kidfic Not really a full-on kidfic, but You Know and I Know (sequel to Nobody Knows) for that Jaime & Tommen relationship, plus that conversation J/B have about having kids in future. Oh, and so brief, but Traveling Far by astolat.

Craziest scene that was in character and made sense (Don’t specify chapter) Let’s just go for the entirety of Stannis Baratheon, Fantasy Football League Commissioner by ikkiM AND THAT FUCKING J/B/C FIC THAT I READ BECAUSE I DIDN’T LOOK AT THE TAGS OKAY: Pride by astolat

Most underrated fic My Fall by TeamGwenee. Witches in 1600s colonial America AND in first person POV? IT WORKS THO. Such an interesting and original premise, and written in a very refreshing succinct style, and yet this multi-chapter fic has less than 200 kudos. Another one with less than 200 kudos: and you’ve whispered what I’m worth by angel_deux, a really lovely Mad Max: Fury Road AU.

Most desperate to see updated NO PRESSURE!!! for our world is cold and full of monsters by chancellor_valdez room service by ssstrychnine A Star Within the Mere by isavedlatin (sigh)

Favourite J/B as a secondary couple Some Kind of Family by crossingwinter

Most haunting Fool by astolat. I don’t know why. It’s a very beautiful story and it’s not even a bad ending for J/B necessarily, but the fact that it ends the way it does just really fucks me up. It’s the only fic in my bookmarks that I don’t think I can ever bear to re-read.

Favourite (friendship or hate) relationship between Jaime and another character One Of The Few Things by anniebibananie (Sansa) – I’m picking this just for the sheer I-can’t-believe-you-made-this-work-and-I-applaud-you factor

Favourite (friendship or hate) relationship between Brienne and another character What Is True, But Not Ideal by Vera (Tyrion)

#jaime x brienne fic recs #jb fav fics

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donteattheappleshook · 4 years

Text

Stone Hearts Chapter 7

Here’s an extra long chapter this week! And a little bit of smut to help with the pain.

Summary:

Emma should have known. She should have known that they couldn’t just go to the underworld and not suffer any consequences. She should have known they’d bring something back with them.

Cannon Divergent after 5x21 Last Rites. No Hyde. No serum. No Evil Queen split. No prophecy. No season 6.

Read from the beginning on Ao3 or FFn because tumblr eats all my italics.

Rated E

Chapter 7

“Oh, Emma, I’m so happy for you,” Snow sighs. “For both of you,” she says asking to see her left hand for the fourth time this morning. “How did he ask you? Was it romantic? Did he get down on one knee? I want to know everything.”

Emma gives her mom a patient smile, glancing at where Killian and David are standing in the kitchen, sliding pancakes and bacon onto plates. Killian catches her eye and she can tell by his expression that he’s getting a similar line of questioning from her dad - though maybe a little less detail-oriented. She sees David smile and clap her fiance on the shoulder and it makes her heart flutter a little bit. Killian looks flustered and bashful but she knows how much her father’s approval means to him, especially after everything they’ve been through.

“It was very romantic,” Emma answers.

“That’s it?” Snow insists. “That’s all you’re going to tell me? Emma, I am your mother. This only happens once. I want details.”

“Yeah, did my advice work?” David asks as he and Killian make their way over to join the women at the table, setting their breakfasts in front of them. Emma thanks her fiance - she’s still not used to that, but she likes it - with a kiss on the cheek.

They exchange a secret little smile before Killian answers. “Oh, yeah, mate. Absolutely. Great advice.” David looks very proud of himself and so Emma doesn’t bother to tell him the truth. She understands, her parents’ version of romance is very different from her own.

“What’s with the ring?” David asks somewhat tactlessly. Snow immediately snaps ‘David!’ He gives a slightly abashed look. “I just mean it’s different,” he explains. “Unique,” he corrects himself when Snow frowns at him.

“Killian chose it,” she tells them, smiling affectionately at the man in question. “It was his mother’s.”

Snow practically melts into the floor at that, swooning over how sentimental and romantic it is. “You know, your father proposed to me with his mother’s ring too,” she tells her, taking a moment to admire the stone on her own finger, a wistful little smile blooming on her face. David’s fingers absentmindedly twist his wedding band as he shares a smile with his wife.

“I know,” Emma smiles, remembering her parents’ love story fondly. “I guess we just have a couple of romantics on our hands,” she says. The boys roll their eyes good-naturedly but Emma sees David slyly give Killian a thumbs up when he thinks they aren’t looking.

“So, have you started planning the wedding at all?”

“Mom, we got engaged last night,” Emma groans.

“Aye, we were far too busy celebrating,” Killian adds cheekily and David makes an exaggerated show of disgust and outrage at the idea of his daughter doing anything. Ever. With any man.

“I’m just saying,” Snow continues. “Venues book up really early and you have a limited choice here in Storybrooke. Unless you were thinking of having it somewhere else! Oh a destination wedding can be so lovely - but difficult to coordinate and -”

“Sweetheart,” David interveens and Emma shoots him a thankful look. “Why don’t we just let them enjoy the moment for now. They can start planning later.”

“Oh, but -” Snow begins, looking terribly disheartened.

“But I’m sure Emma and Killian wouldn’t object to us throwing them an engagement party,” he adds, in an attempt to placate her. He raises an eyebrow meaningfully at Emma. “Right?”

“Right,” Emma agrees.

Oh, boy. This is gonna get interesting. She knows her mom means well, really she does. Snow just has a habit of getting overly enthusiastic about anything involving Emma. And when that happens, she often loses track of why she’s doing it, getting too caught up in the details and the excitement and forgetting exactly who her daughter is and what she does and doesn’t like.

But she understands. Her mom missed out on twenty-eight years with her. Twenty-eight years of birthdays and holidays and first dates and boyfriends and countless balls and whatever other royal events there were. She can give her this. Emma can handle an engagement party. And she trusts David to keep his wife in check when it comes to the wedding. Besides, Emma never got to have a mother, never got to have anyone dote on her and be excited about any aspect of her life. And it’s nice. It’s nice to be loved that much.

“Besides,” David adds, breaking her out of her reverie. “I’m sure they’re not in any great rush. There’s no urgent reason for them to have to get married soon. Is there?”

The last question is quite pointedly directed at Killian. David gives him a stern, overly-protectice-father frown. Emma can see the mischievous expression creeping onto Killian’s face and she interjects before he can say anything to really rile her dad up.

“Jesus, Dad,” she groans. “This isn’t a shotgun wedding,” she nearly glares at him for the implication.

“I didn’t say it was!” he insists, playing innocent and Emma raises an eyebrow at him.

“We could make it one,” Killian suggests, snaking an arm around her waist and sending David an exageratedly salacious eyebrow lift. David looks like he’s going to punch Killian for that one but Emma can’t quite bring herself to be mad. Snow is failing to hide a giggle behind her hand and David looks at her, betrayed.

“You asked for it,” she tells him with a shrug and he pouts, crossing his arms over his chest and muttering under his breath about ‘my daughter and my own wife’.

Later, when they’re finishing their meal, David, who has now cooled down, asks if they’ve told Henry yet.

“No,” Emma says. “He’s still at his friend’s for another two days. And if you guys don’t mind not saying anything until we get a chance to that would be great.” She looks directly at her mother. “To anyone,” she specifies and Snow looks almost offended at the idea that she can’t keep a secret. “We just don’t want him finding out from someone else before we get a chance to tell him.”

Snow looks ready to protest but then sighs. “Mum’s the word,” she promises, miming locking her lips with a key. She rises, beginning to gather up their dishes and Killian immediately gets up to help. Emma moves to join them but is stopped by David’s hand on her arm. She sits back down. He takes a moment before he speaks.

“I’m really happy for you, you know,” he says and Emma smiles.

“I know, Dad. Thank you.” He looks like he wants to say more, his face swelling with emotion he is trying and failing to suppress. She gives him a minute to compose himself.

“I’m just… I’m so proud of you, Emma.” A feeling swells in her chest, warmth blooming from the centre and spreading out.

“Dad…”

“No, really,” he continues. “I want you to know this.” He places his hand over her own and squeezes it gently, looking her in the eye. “When you first got here, you were so closed off, so scared of letting anyone in, of letting anyone mean anything to you. And part of that is my fault.” She tries to protest but he holds up a hand to stop her. “No, it is. You grew up without anyone taking care of you, without anyone loving you, and you should have. The world was cruel to you and you learned how to protect yourself. But, Emma, you’ve come so far. You’ve grown into someone so strong and so brave - so open - and I’m just… I’m really proud of you.”

“I don’t know if I’d go so far as brave,” she says, a little embarrassed.

“You are brave. Letting someone love you is brave. Letting yourself love someone is even braver.” His fingers begin to toy with his wedding band again, spinning it around as he focuses on it. “And I know I give Hook a rough time. But he loves you, and you love him. You know, he told me once he’d go to the end of the world or time for you and I don’t doubt for a second that he meant it. He’s a good man,” David says casting a glance at Killian who is helping Snow load the dishwasher. “I’m happy he’s the one you chose to let in.”

He looks her in the eye and for a moment she forgets that he’s not much older than her. She forgets that they’ve only known each other for four years. Suddenly, she feels like a little girl, sitting there with her father. It’s not something she really ever got to experience before and… it’s a lot. But the good kind of a lot. David has been there for her since the moment he knew she was his daughter. Not once has he faltered in his role. He’s been supportive and kind and understanding and Emma wishes she’d had a chance to grow up with him - overprotectiveness and all.

“I guess I take after my mother when it comes to my taste in men,” she tells him and David looks about ready to cry. He clears his throat, coughing to hide the way he’s choking up.

She glances up at Killian who is watching them now, watching David play with his ring and try not to cry. An expression crosses his face that she doesn’t quite understand but then Snow says something and he snaps back into the smile he wore a moment ago.

On the car ride home, Emma can tell that something is off. She keeps looking at Killian, trying to make conversation, but his answers are short, distracted, and his attention seems to be completely focused on his hook. After ten minutes of tense silence Emma pulls the bug over.

“Okay, what's up with you?” she demands.

“What?” he answers, still not fully noticing that she’s speaking, she doesn’t even think he realized she stopped the car. She waits and finally he looks up at her. “Sorry, Love,” he says, finally seeming to have tuned into the conversation. “I was distracted.”

“By?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Uh-uh,” Emma shakes her head. “Something is clearly bothering you. You’ve been weird since you were in the kitchen with my mom. Did she say something? I know she can be a bit much but -”

“It wasn’t you mother, Swan,” he tells her.

“Well then what?” she pushes. She doesn’t like not being able to read him and it unsettles her. Killian takes a long moment, looking down at his hook again before finally sighing, shoulders hunching forward a bit as he makes his confession.

“It was just… I hadn’t realised until now that I won’t be able to wear a wedding ring.” His answer throws her for a moment. She doesn’t understand what he’s talking about. Of course he can wear a ring. She frowns at him, trying to figure out what he’s saying and he sighs again, holding up his hook and it dawns on her.

She takes hold of his hook. “Killian, you’ll just wear it on your right hand. It doesn’t matter to me. You know it’s never mattered right?” He has to know. Even when they first met, back when she was pretending she didn’t like him, the hook never bothered her. It’s a part of him, a part of his story, a piece of who he’s become, like the scars on his body.

“I know,” he tells her but she can see it’s still bothering him. She waits, giving him time to tell her what he’s feeling when he’s ready. “It's only that a ring on your right hand is just a ring,” he starts. “A ring on your left hand.... It shows the world a commitment. And I want to show the world my commitment to you, I want everyone to know that I’m yours and your mine and… and I can’t. I can’t show you.”

Emma feels gutted by his words. It breaks her heart to think that this is eating away at him so much. She doesn’t care, at all. Killian shows her his commitment every single day. Nobody has ever fought for her the way that he did. Nobody else has been so steady and strong and constant in her life. Only him. She doesn’t need a ring to show her that he’s in this for the long haul. She brings his hook up to her heart and he meets her eyes and she tells him so.

He gives her a smile but it’s a little half-hearted. “Thank you, Love. I suppose you’re right.” She can tell he’s still not quite convinced but she can also tell that he’s done talking about it for now so she starts the car and they continue down main street. As she drives, she keeps casting little glances at him and each time it breaks her heart a little bit. Killian should never feel less-than.

They pass a side street she recognizes and suddenly Emma has an idea. She pulls off and Killian looks up as the car jerks. He asks where they’re going but she only smiles. After a short ride, she pulls the bug over again and shuts off the engine. He gives her a questioning look. She turns in her seat.

“You want a commitment the world can see?” she asks. “Come with me.” She hops out of the car and waits for him to follow. He still looks confused but eventually, he recognizes the building they’re standing in front of. A tattoo shop. He smiles at her and it’s the first real smile he’s given her since this started, raised eyebrow and all.

“We’re not getting rings,” she tells him, then reconsiders. “Okay, yes, we’re getting rings because I do not want to deal with explaining that to my mom. But we’re not just getting rings. We’ve never been a traditional couple. Why start now.”

“Swan,” he says, amusement in his voice and she’s thrilled to hear it. “Are you telling me that we’re getting husband and wife tattoos?”

She nods. “That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”

He considers it for a moment and then gestures for her to take the lead. “After you.”

They settle on a compass. It was the first thing that brought them together - literally. They met because of it, they went on their first adventure because of it and, as he’s told her before, he’s known since the beanstalk that they would end up here. It’s fitting really. The compass was supposed to bring them home, and it did. It brought them to each other. They get them over their hearts, him on his chest and her on her back.

Killian gets his first and Emma can’t help smiling back as he grins through the whole thing, apparently oblivious to the pain. She likes the fact that this is only his second tattoo - that clearly the permanence of it means something to him. She goes next. She grimaces through the whole thing but he holds her hand and lets her squeeze it too tightly. When it’s done, they stand in front of the full length mirror in the shop. Killian is staring at the ink just by her shoulder blade. He wraps her in his arms, pressing her to his chest and leans down to kiss her forehead.

“Thank you, Emma,” he says, eyes fixed on the artwork. She looks up at him, arms trapped between them, enjoying the feel of him wrapped around her. She kisses the spot where his tattoo is bandaged under his shirt.

“You’re my home,” she answers. “Now I’ve just got the proof… for the world to see,” she adds.

He smiles, takes her face in his hands. “And you’re mine,” he promises before placing a kiss to her lips.

***

The next morning, Emma wakes to sunlight streaming through the windows, filling the room with streaks of golden light and she watches the bits of fluff and dust dance around in them. She can feel Killian’s fingers stroking through her hair, fanning it out across the skin of her back. When her new tattoo is revealed to him he begins to trace the delicate lines, fingers gentle on still-tender flesh. She’s not sure, but she thinks he might be humming. It’s a song she doesn’t recognize. She turns her head so that she can look at him without disrupting the motion of his hand.

“Good morning, Love,” he beams when he sees her peeking up at him from under her hair, face still half pressed into the pillow. He leans down and presses his lips to her shoulder blade, over her heart. She smiles, a sleepy but content smile. She can’t help herself. Emma’s never been a morning person, but waking up like this, in a room bathed in sunlight, to the gentle caress of the man she’s going to marry… she doesn’t care how early it is. It’s worth it.

She hums. “‘Morning. How long have you been up?” Her voice is still groggy from sleep.

“Not long,” he says and Emma knows he’s lying. Killian is always up with the grey of the dawn but ever since her panic attack nearly five months ago he’s stayed true to his promise and stayed in bed until she wakes up. And she really, really likes waking up next to him. She looks at him now, his hair still a little wild from sleep, the skin of his shoulders and chest almost golden in the glow of the sun. He looks like some kind of greek god, like he was made to be sculpted, painted, his beauty a thing to be preserved and admired.

He’s smiling gently at her, his fingers still tracing the new brush strokes on her body, tangling in the ends of her hair, and she snuggles a little closer so that she can press herself against the warmth of his skin. “What?” she asks as he continues to look at her admiringly, happily.

“Nothing,” he says, voice soft and almost distant. “It’s only that you look exceptionally beautiful bathed in the morning light.”

Emma wants to roll her eyes - her natural reaction to compliments - but she doesn’t. She likes it. She likes compliments when they come from him. Even his most flowery, poetic speeches sound sincere when he speaks them, and it fills her heart to know how much he loves her. So, instead, she snuggles even closer to him, curling herself around him and laying her head on his chest. Killian welcomes her eagerly, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tightly to him.

“You should see yourself,” she tells him and a slightly smug smirk pulls at his lips.

“Oh?” he prods, but she doesn’t take the bait. She’s not going to tease him. She wants him to know that she’s as impossibly in love with and in awe of him as he is with her. It surprises her briefly, it still does sometimes, how easily she accepts that he loves her. The doubts that had plagued her her entire life seem to have dissapeared when Killian decided to love her - when she decided to let him love her.

“Mhm,” she hums, bringing a hand up to caress the lines of his face, tracing his temple, his cheek, his jaw. “You know, I think I could get used to waking up next to you every morning.”

Killian chuckles, catching her hand and taking a moment to admire the ring that rests on her finger. A reverent smile blooms on his face and he turns his head to look her in the eye. “That’s the idea, Love.” He brings her hand to his lips and then lowers it to rest on the compass over his heart.

Emma smiles at the reminder of the commitment they made yesterday. She knows most will see it just as a new tattoo, some even will tell her it’s bad luck, but she doesn’t care. Killian promised to love her forever and yesterday he proved it by branding the promise permanently on his skin. It still doesn’t feel real. She feels like she’s in a dream, the most wonderful, fantastic dream of her life and she never wants to wake up. She can’t stop smiling. She looks at the ring on her finger, their hands still intertwined.

“What is it?” he asks and she shrugs a little.

“I just never thought this would happen for me, you know?” she tells him. “I just can’t believe this is real.”

He smiles affectionately at her, understanding in his expression. “It’s real, Swan,” he promises, placing a kiss to her palm. “Very real,” he assures her before leaning down to kiss her gently, his hand coming up to cradle her face as his lips move slowly and intentionally over her own. She lifts her face to meet his, happy for the feel of his mouth on hers, the reminder that he’s here and that he’s real and that she gets to have this - forever.

It’s not long before their kiss turns passionate, Emma pressing herself closer to him, desperate for the feel of him against her skin. Her arm snakes up under his shoulder as she pulls him closer. She wants to wrap herself around him and feel him wrapped around her, feel the love and the trust and the realness of it all engulf her. Killian tightens his hold until there’s no space left between them at all and she curls her foot around his calf. He lets out a small groan before rolling her over onto her back, his mouth not leaving her own. She feels a slight burn as her sensitive skin hits the mattress but she doesn’t mind - it’s a pleasant reminder, a brand.

They kiss for a long while, neither in any hurry as the warmth and the desire builds slowly between them. She lets her hands wander the expanse of his back, feeling the raised scars that criss cross it. It’s a map she knows by heart now, one she could trace with her eyes closed, a roadmap of his life written on his skin. His hand is everywhere, tracing her face, her neck, her shoulders, her chest, every touch featherlight, just soft enough to make her want more and she lets him know with a slow small grind of her hips against his.

She feels his smile before his lips leave hers to trail down her neck. He’s in no hurry, the kisses he traces on her skin are slow and deep and deliberate, each press of his lips and brush of his tongue stoking the flames of the fire that is smoldering inside of her, teasing it into what she knows - what he knows - can quickly become a raging inferno.

It’s ages before he reaches her chest but even still he takes his time. He places a deep kiss to the bottom of her throat moving slowly down across her sternum. She can feel his tongue moving under her breast, licking at it, and a sound between a sigh and a whine leaves her as he slowly trails it up her skin to her nipple. He flattens his tongue and drags it over the bud once, twice, slowly and purposefully before taking it into his mouth and lavishing it with attention.

Emma’s hand comes up to fist in his hair of it’s own free will as she desperately tries to hold him to her, to keep him there. His name leaves her lips in a breath and she feels him smile against her skin before he turns to pay her other breast the same attention. He feels amazing, what he does to her, the way he knows how to wind her up while keeping her from going insane. It’s lazy and slow and yet his passion is always there, his love and need for her coming out in the way his lips start to trail slowly down her stomach, his hand and wrist sliding along her sides as they come to rest on her hips, opening her up to him.

His first kiss against her centre is long and deep, Killian taking his time to kiss her properly, thoroughly, his mouth working over her as expertly as he does everything. He’s meticulous in all aspects of his life and Emma couldn’t be happier for it than right now. She feels his tongue slide slowly through her folds, the tip flicking gently against her clit when he reaches to the top of her.

She sighs a little desperately and he flattens his tongue against it, soothing the ache but still not enough. Bastard knows it too, she thinks. But he seems intent on taking his time and Emma is forced to wait, the heat inside of her growing nearly unbearable as he works her slowly towards her peek. Her hands grip the sheets on either side of her, fisting them between her fingers as Killian slowly swirls his tongue around the sensitive bundle of nerves in the way he knows she likes.

A part of her wants to beg him to go faster, to end the blissful agony that is this slow climb. But there’s something so erotic and so intimate about his unhurried pace. She can feel every soft flick of his tongue as he drags it up her slit, can feel the shape of his lips around her clit as he sucks it into his mouth and she cries out. And she can hear every moan and low growl that emanates from him as he pleasures her, can fill them reverberating through her skin, only making her want more.

She loves how much he loves this. His mouth on her is like heaven but knowing that he enjoys it nearly as much, hearing and feeling the greedy way that he licks into her, is the most erotic thing she’s ever experienced. She knows that he’s likely already hard and desperate for her, the way her hips rock slowly against his face as arousing for him as his ministrations are for her.

She lets out a breathy moan, almost a gasp as he pushes two fingers into her of her, dragging them slowly in and out as his tongue continues to lavish attention against her clit. She can feel it building now, her climax close as he keeps his movements steady, fingers thrusting, tongue circling. He lets out small, appreciative moans every time her hips buck up. The climb is slow but no less intense as he continues to work her gently, bringing her to the edge but not quite letting her fall over it.

He keeps her there for ages, just on the cusp, the pleasure building and building until she feels that it can’t possibly grow anymore. The feeling is overwhelming, completely encompassing, taking over all of her senses until there’s nothing else but him and her and the high that’s just out of reach. Tears brim in her eyes, gasps and cries spilling from her lips at the sheer bliss of it until finally she begs him to let her fall.

He does, and she feels it in every inch of her body, a bliss and a warmth filling her from her centre outwards as her back bends and her mouth hangs open in a silent cry. It goes on forever, wave after wave of pleasure lapping through her, making her shiver with every pass. She feels him slide up her body, slide into her while she’s still riding the high of her climax. He moves inside her and with every thrust she feels more sparks igniting in her belly, shooting through her limbs, prolonging her peak rather than building a new one. She wraps her arms around him, holding him close and whispering his name each time he pushes into her.

He doesn’t last long. Between the pleasure he took in using his mouth on her and the way her walls are contracting around him now, it’s not long until he’s murmuring words in her ear, words of praise, of want, barely coherent, lost in his own desire. She urges him on through her hazy fog, bringing her lips and her teeth to his ear and scraping her nails down his back.

He comes with a desperate, agonized cry, burying his face in her neck, breathing heavily. She can feel him trembling slightly in her arms and runs her fingers though the hair at the nape of his neck. They lay there for a moment, simply basking in the heavy, sated feeling that always comes after their lovemaking. When the final shocks have finally left her body, Emma speaks.

“If this is what married life is gonna be like, sign me up.”

She can feel him laughing against her throat before he rolls over and off of her, pulling her back into his arms so she can curl up against his side. After a moment, Killian speaks.

“What’s troubling you, Love?” he asks. He knows her so damn well it’s frustrating sometimes.

“It’s just - I guess I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

He pulls back so that he can look at her better, turns on his side so that they’re facing one another. “What do you mean?”

She hates that this nagging feeling won’t go away, no matter how many speeches she gives Henry. “I guess I’m still waiting for you to be taken away again. For something to happen.”

He smiles at her understandingly. “I know.” They’ve had this conversation before. “But that’s not our lives anymore,” he assures her. “I’m here to stay.”

She gives him a bit of a watery smile. “I know you are. But what if you can’t help it?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he says, certainty in his voice. “I’ve found you before and I will again. Or you’ll find me.” She nods but can’t keep the worry from her face. “Give me your hand,” he says sitting up. She follows suit and holds out her hand. He takes it, places it on his chest, right over the new ink. “I know we’re not married yet, Swan, but this is a vow.” His face is serious, love pouring from every word. She knows. It means more to her than any piece of paper ever could. “And this is another.” He looks her in the eye. “I promise that no matter where life takes us, I’ll always find my way back to you.” He releases her hand but she continues to trace the intricate lines under it. “I have a compass to guide me.”

***

Emma was ready. The door to her cell was closed and the last of the daylight had finally faded from her window. The room was dark, bathed only in the hints of moonlight that reached this far down into the basement. She could do this. It was time. They were getting out. She made sure she had everything, felt for the spell pages in her back pocket and her phone. Okay. It was time.

She took a minute to fluff her hair, she didn’t even really know why she did it. It was an old habit she assumed, from years of setting honey traps. She let it fall around her shoulders before hesitating for a moment. She shrugged off her jacket. It couldn’t hurt.

She ignored the anxiety in her chest, the one that wouldn’t stop flaring up, like it was trying to tell her something. She knew what it was trying to tell her. What if you’re wrong? She couldn’t take that risk. This was her only chance, Henry’s only chance. There was no other way out of here. She had to do it. It’s not him. She repeated over and over again. It’s not him.

She rose from her cot, took a breath, and then stepped forward, halting when she reached the door. She let her forehead fall gently against the stone next to it, knowing that he was right on the other side of the wall. Close enough to touch but so far away. As if that wasn’t a damned metaphor for the last week of her life. Squashing down the last little bit of hope and belief that tried to change her mind, Emma turned and sat with her back to the wall.

“You know,” she started. “This isn’t the first time we’ve been cursed. Far from it actually.” She gave a little laugh. “I’ve lost track of how many times, to be honest. Some weren’t that bad, missing weeks, magic-stealing lips, even one that made everyone turn on each other. Not like this though.” Emma felt a heaviness in her chest, remembering when they thought the curse of shattered sight was the worst thing that could happen to them. If only they’d known. At least she’d gotten to say goodbye to him that time. She shook her head. She needed to concentrate.

“This one time… This one time Henry and I were cursed. We were sent far away with no memory of anyone that mattered to us, no memory of anyone we loved. And everyone else… well they were sent to a different far away place. You -” she stopped herself, corrected herself. “Killian was sent far away.” She could almost hear him listening to her. Something about the silence, the weight of it maybe, changed when he was focused on what she was saying, when he was focused on her. She waited, holding her breath as her heart raced. Come on…

The door creaked open slowly and Emma didn't dare move. She sat there with her knees drawn up, hoping that he wouldn’t change his mind. After a moment, a long, strained moment that felt like ages, he slid down onto the floor with her, resting his back against the doorframe just as he’d done last night. Their arms were inches away from each other. If she’d shifted slightly she could have pressed her left shoulder to his right. Her heart was hammering in her chest as he sat and waited for her to continue.

She tilted her head back, letting it rest against the stone behind her. “He found me though. Somehow, he defied all the odds to get to me. But that’s just who he was. He never gave up on anyone.” She laughed a little to make up for the tears that were threatening to stream down her face. “He found a way to break the curse. After that… Well it doesn’t really matter what happened after that. What matters is I got my heart broken. All over again. Just one more guy who ruined a little piece of me and didn’t seem to suffer at all for it.”

She tried to steady her breathing, tried to not let her hands shake as she slowly slipped her palm across the cold, hard floor. Hesitantly, she let her little finger brush his own, barely touching. She waited for his reaction. He didn’t pull back, his hand didn't move at all. But she saw his head tilt down a little, and saw his eyes zero in on where they were touching. She continued.

“And so here was this damn pirate. This man who had followed me, crossed realms to get to me - and I knew why. I wasn’t ready to admit it yet, but I knew.” She shifted slowly again, her finger laying over his own now. “He wouldn’t tell me what happened while I was away, but I could tell he’d suffered - probably as much as I was suffering then. Probably more.” Braver now, she let her fingers trace the back of his hand. He still didn’t move but she saw that little twitch in his jaw again and it encouraged her.

“I just… saw myself in his heartbreak. Saw that he needed someone as much as I did.” She caught her breath, heart racing as his hand slowly turned over under her own. “He needed me,” she corrected. “And I needed him.” Her fingers were drawing soft patterns across his palm, his gaze fixed on her every movement. “So, I let him kiss me.” Her pulse pounded against her ribcage as his hand moved, fingers hesitantly tracing against her own palm, brushing her wrist.

Moment of truth, she thought. “I knew it wasn’t just a kiss back then, it was always more than that.” She carefully took hold of his wrist, he did the same. She watched him, watched as he followed, only the slightest hesitation in his movements as she rose and gently pulled him up along with her, led him into the room. He followed her steps blindly, like he was on autopilot, eyes not leaving where they were touching. They stood facing each other now, hands still held between them. She brought her free hand to his chest, placing her palm over his heart. His breathing changed ever so slightly as he freed his fingers and started to trace them up along her forearm to her elbow. “I let him touch me,” she told him as his hand continued on to her shoulder, his fingers following the line of her collar bone, touch feather light.

It was just like it was in the showers. The air heavy between them and his breath matching it. For a second she could swear she felt his heartbeat pick up under her palm but she ignored it. It didn’t matter. It was just muscle memory. His body still craved her the way hers craved him. It was like an addiction, like muscle memory. There was nothing emotional about it.

“And just for a little while,” she breathed, finally giving up and letting a few tears roll down her cheeks as she remembered the man that she’d lost, the one who had found his way back to her so many times. “We got to forget everything else. Forget everything we’d lost, everything that hurt.” His forehead fell against hers and he took a deep, shaky inhale through his nose, like he was trying to breathe her in.

Her own voice was unsteady now, choked with emotion and grief. “And in that moment, we were the only thing that existed.” Her hand cautiously slid down along his side as his own slid up to cup her face. His eyes were closed now and she did her best to look at him from so closely, to take him in, pretend that it was Killian and that it was real. She needed to remember him one last time.

She lifted the cuff out from his pocket and in a flash she’d slipped it on her wrist. Heart pounding and adrenaline racing through her veins, Emma turned them and jumped back out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her before he’d even opened his eyes. When he did, she was bolting the lock into place. He looked at her, no anger, no betrayal, no panic… nothing. He only blinked at her, his eyes meeting her own through the bars on the window. “And then I ran,” she said, finishing her story.

What are you doing? A voice screamed inside of her. Get out of here. Get Henry and run. But another voice screamed just as loudly. What are you doing? It’s Kilian. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to silence both voices. It wasn’t Killian. She couldn’t risk believing that he was in there. It was too dangerous. She needed to run and get what was left of her family safe. She knew that was what she had to do. It was the logical thing to do. But then why does it hurt so damn much?

She opened her eyes again, meeting his. He hadn’t moved, he just continued to look on. “I’m sorry,” she said, not believing that she’d found herself here again, that they’d ended up right back at the beginning. “I just can’t take a chance that I’m wrong about you.”

She ran off down the hall, following the path she knew off by heart now. She wasn’t far from Henry’s cell. Her heart raced, adrenaline fueling her as she weaved her way through the corridors. She came across one guard, a townsperson she didn’t recognize, but managed to duck into a doorway. He walked right past her. When he was far enough away she took off again, finally reaching the corner next to her son’s room. Archie was there, standing guard, stoic and empty like all the others. Needing a distraction, she tossed her phone across the hall and waited. She could hear his footsteps as he followed the sound. She waited until he was just rounding the corner and then hit him with as much force as she could on the side of the head. He went down in one blow and Emma stood over him, shaking her sore hand. “Sorry,” she said, wincing. Even in this form it felt wrong to punch Jiminy Cricket.

She approached the door and knocked softly twice. “Kid, you ready?” she asked, lifting the deadbolt.

“Who's there?” he demanded and she smiled despite herself. “The Dread Pirate Roberts. I’m here to rescue the princess.”

She opened the door and Henry stood there smirking at her. “I’m not a princess. I’m James Bond,” he sassed and she laughed a little.

“Come on, we have to hurry,” she said and suddenly his face was serious. He picked up his slingshot, ‘just in case,’ and followed her out of the room.

“We need to get to the emergency room,” he said as they hurried down the halls, careful to try keep their feet quiet and their voices low. “Ruby has a way in and out from there.” Emma nodded, familiar enough with the ER from her frequent visits since arriving in Storybrooke.

They reached it without any issues and that put Emma on edge. Surely someone must have noticed their guards by now, or heard something or even just have happened to be patrolling one of the hallways they turned down. It was too easy. Emma didn’t trust easy. Nothing was ever easy, especially not in Storybrooke. They heard a shuffling in the back corner of one of the waiting rooms and Emma swirled around, pushing Henry behind her. She watched as one of the large tiles rattled and then slowly slid across the floor. From the hole beneath it, a wolf’s head emerged.

She let out a sigh of relief. “Ruby!” she nearly cried, so happy to see her friend here and safe. They approached the hole in the floor and as Ruby climbed out Emma saw that it wasn’t just a hole, it was a tunnel. She turned to the wolf, practically laughing she was so impressed. Maybe it was just the adrenaline. “You fucking Shawshanked your way in here?”

She knew if Ruby could have smirked right now she would’ve. But suddenly, she let out a low growl, turning to the door behind them. It took Emma a second longer to hear it with human ears but when she did, her blood ran cold. Footsteps. Lots of them and all running towards them. Shit. They found them. She knew it couldn’t be that easy.

Suddenly, the room was invaded by imposters. Faces they knew, faces that belonged to people they cared about but that looked at them and felt nothing. There were ten of them. They didn’t stand a chance. She didn’t have time to think. They wouldn’t have time to get the cuff off her and magic them out of here before the creatures were on them. It’s me they want. She could get the others away. She could be bait.

She darted across the room and just as she’d expected - hoped - the things followed her. Guess they got the order, she thought. Don’t let the Savior out. “Ruby!” she shouted. “Get him out of here!”

Ruby reacted immediately, grabbing a protesting Henry by the arm and dragging him down the tunnel. He would hate her for that. She knew he would. But she had to know he was safe. It didn’t matter if she didn’t get out, so long as he did.

Emma scanned the small space around her, desperately seeking anything she could use as a weapon. She spotted an IV drip and figured that was the best she was going to find. She’d only just managed to rip it out of it’s base when the first one was on her. Emma knew her, she was one of Henry’s coaches. She whacked her over the head with the metal bar. The woman fell hard, blood seeping from the wound on her temple. Jefferson approached her next and she jabbed him in the stomach, he doubled over and the end came out bloody.

They were closing in on her now and Emma swung the bar in front of her, desperately trying to keep them back. They dodged skillfully but she managed to get one more - Aurora - across the shoulder. She fell, but was back up quickly. Emma screamed, a raw, angry sound from inside of her as she lunged at them. This was it. She knew she couldn’t beat them. But she would take as many of them as she could down with her.

She swung again but this time someone caught it. She looked up to see - David. She was startled for a moment. Love made her hesitate for a second and that was all it took for her to drop her guard. David’s elbow collided with the side of her head and she felt the world go silent for a second, her head was swimming as her vision blurred briefly. But she didn’t fall. With as much strength as she could manage she swung her fist at his face, making contact with his nose and sending him reeling back. He collapsed on the floor and didn’t get up. That was the last blow she got in.

Everything was a blur after that. Someone caught her arm as when she tried to fight him off another landed a blow to her stomach. She felt her breath leave her as she wheezed. There was another blow to her back that sent her to the ground, falling onto one knee before a foot kicked her down onto both. Everything hurt. She couldn’t move, her head was still ringing and she was out numbered. This was it. It was over.

A pair of hands grabbed her by the front of her shirt and heaved her onto her feet. She felt her back hit the wall as the hands closed over her throat. She struggled, hitting and clawing at the hands but it was no use. She looked at the face in front of her. She didn’t know it. Good, she thought. If she was going to die now she didn’t want it to be done using the hands of someone she’d liked. And she was pretty sure she would die now. Henry was gone. They had lost their leverage. She was better off dead to them now. They could still try and get her heart that way. She focused on the stranger’s face, on the blank expression staring back at her.

She was vaguely aware of sounds going on around her, small flickers of movement she couldn’t make out. The blood was rushing in her ears now, pressure building in her head. Everything was muffled. The world was slowly fading away. She was growing numb.

Then, just as her vision was starting to go black around the edges, the hands were ripped away from her throat. She collapsed onto the floor, gasping for breath and coughing as she desperately tried to fill her lungs. It was a while before she could, but when she finally managed to inhale more than once and the blurriness cleared from her eyes, she looked up. And that was when she saw him.

Killian stood with his back to her, his body between her and those that had attacked her. Emma couldn’t quite make sense of it at first. What was he doing here and why had they stopped? That was when she noticed the bodies strewn about, lying limp on the floor in front of him. She looked at him again and saw the cuts and scrapes on his knuckles. There was blood dripping from his hook. He’d… He’d saved her?

Emma felt panic and hope swelling up inside of her, blending into one overwhelming emotion that had her breathing heavily, hands shaking. What the hell was happening? If he’d saved her then that must have meant that he - she couldn’t bring herself to believe it. Did he care? Did he care about her? He’d protected her. Risked his life for her. You didn’t do that unless… Had he felt something? Oh, god please let him have felt something. If he felt something then that could mean…

“Killian?” Her voice was still raspy and her fear of hope, of being disappointed again, made her sound weak and desperate. He raised his hook and looked at the blood that stained the end. He looked down at the bodies at his feet and then whirled around to look at her. There was fear in his eyes.

Her heart stopped for a moment. Fear. He was scared. Right now he looked scared and confused and Emma didn’t know what it meant but she knew it was an emotion. He felt something. He was feeling something. She looked between him and the people at his feet, one or two of whom were starting to stir and she stood on shaky legs. She rushed towards him, taking his face in her hands, dragging his gaze away from what he’d done and trying to make him focus on her. His eyes were blown wide and his brow pulled up in a scared frown.

“Hey, look at me,” she told him. “It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay.” She was lying. She didn’t know if anything would be okay. All she knew was that right now, somehow, something had come to life inside of him. It might have been small but it was there and it was real and it was human. And if there was even the smallest, tiniest chance that it meant Killian was in there… then she had to find him.

“Just breathe,” she said. When he looked away again she slid her hand down to his chest and he bowed his head, watching it. “Breathe.” He hesitated and then took a slow, shaky breath in. He looked up at her again, the panic in his eyes twisting with more confusion, like he didn’t understand what was happening to him, like it was physically hurting him to feel.

“I can get us out of here,” she rushed. He continued to look at her with fear and pain. He didn’t trust her. “Look, I - I’m sorry for what I did… I didn’t know… it doesn’t matter. I can get us out and get us safe but I need you to take this off.” She raised her arm between them so he could see the cuff and he looked at it, his frown pulling down further, the pain twisting his face even more. He looked at her desperately and she wanted to help him but she didn’t know how. All she could do was get them somewhere safe. She could hear more people coming, they were getting close. She didn’t know if this would last. Didn’t know if this was a blip or the start of something. She needed it to last, needed it to mean something. “Please,” she pleaded. “Just trust me.”

A long moment passed between them and Emma started to lose hope. There were tears stinging her eyes and she could feel the heavy weight settling slowly on her heart, snuffing out the light. “Please,” she repeated. The footsteps were close now. He looked at her for a moment longer, and then pulled off the cuff.

Emma didn’t think. She didn’t think about what she was doing or the risk she was taking. All she thought about was Killian. She grabbed the lapels of his jacket and hung on tight as a cloud of white smoke enveloped them.

#stone hearts #captain swan #captain swan fanfic #captain swan fanfiction #cs fanfic #cs fanfiction #cs smut #captain swan smut #cs angst #captain swan angst

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hobby-board-gaming-101 · 4 years

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Introduction to Board Games

alIf you’ve just learned that a friend is into “board games” and you’re trying to figure out if that means they play Monopoly every day, this is the post to start at.

There’s really no better introduction that this video, by Shut Up and Sit Down, a group that reviews board games. The auto-generated captions are all right, but I’ve also transcribed the video below the cut.

youtube

Now that you’ve watched that video, you should understand why some people play board games. Do you want to maybe be one of them? If so, keep reading this post.

Here’s another way to explain what hobby board gaming is like (credit to Reddit user Russell_Ruffino): an analogy to beer. The board games everyone’s heard of, like Monopoly, Clue (a.k.a. Cluedo), Sorry!, and Uno, are like those mass-produced lagers you can buy in the supermarket. But “if someone … had only ever tried mass produced lagers bought from supermarkets,” they’d be “missing out on a whole world … [of] craft beers that you sometimes have to buy straight from the brewery.” Like craft beer fanatics, board gamers have lots of games we love that you’ve probably never heard of.

I love this analogy even though I know nothing about beer because it can be extended to lots of subtleties. Those supermarket lager games are called “mass-market games,” because they’re advertised to a wide audience and lots of people know about them. The craft beer games, meanwhile, are called “hobby,” “designer” (because the designer is listed on the box, like a book author or movie director), or “modern” (because most though not all were designed after The Settlers of Catan in 1996) board games. These designer games “can be an acquired taste, [and] there’s nothing wrong with someone just drinking the supermarket lagers, but once you've started getting into the limited run stuff it’s hard to go back to only drinking the lager.” (Here’s an article that goes in-depth on the differences between these two categories of games.)

Now, I don’t know if you’re interested in maybe becoming a real serious hobby board gamer, or if you just want to play good games more casually. If you think the latter is the case, check out Casual Game Revolution. This article gives a very good overview of what they think casual gaming is, or if you want a shorter read, try their about page. Their website will be a wonderful resource for you if you want to be a casual gamer, and my blog might be a bit unnecessarily esoteric. But if you don’t want all your games to be “relatively quick games that are easy to learn and teach” and want more than “light strategy,” Casual Game Revolution might be a little limiting for you. You are my target audience for this blog.

(I tried to write that a couple different ways and I feel like it still might sound a little condescending towards casual gamers. I promise that was not my intention, and casual gaming is amazing.)

I think that’s just about all I need by way of introduction to this blog. I would strongly suggest using the table of contents linked at the top of the site (next to my About page) to get around. Welcome!

Transcript of Shut Up and Sit Down’s video below the cut:

Oh, hi there. So, you’re here because a friend or significant other or colleague, a member of your family, church, or dogging community has told you they’re into board games: they’re a board gamer. And that’s got to make you nervous because surely anybody will be done with Monopoly and Snakes and Ladders after being a kid.

What if I were to tell you a secret: that these days, board games and card games are actually amazing. And you're going to find that hard to believe because you’ve got three preconceptions starting with this one: aren’t there like, six board games? There’s Risk, there’s Monopoly, there’s KerPlunk, Connect Four, and the one where the mustard man kills people with a fire poker. No! Actually, new board games come out every single week from countries as far-flung as Germany Japan, and yeah, America and the UK, and some of these board games are for families, some are rubbish, but lots aren’t. In fact, lots are absolutely fantastic!

Let’s look a preconception number two which is the board games are BORING! And actually, they’re just not. Let’s look at a game that came out just a few months ago, alright, this is Ladies and Gentlemen: a French game; a team game where half the players play baffled Victorian gentleman trying to make money at a pretend kiddie stock market, in real time, and the other half of the table play their wives, trying to use that money to assemble the best outfit. It even has additional rules for “maid’s gossip,” and a player who is a single lady! Now, see, this this game might sound mad to you. It might sound like a cross between bridge and OK Magazine, but it probably doesn’t sound boring. And that’s the truth of it, alright, the fact is that the table, as a medium, can be used for anything. You just pick the board games out there that entertain you! Let’s not forget that poker is a board/card/table game type thing, and no one would say that’s boring!

Which brings us on to point number three: board games are for kids. And they’re just not! Labyrinth: The War on Terror is a simulation where one person runs the American War on Terror as of 2001, and another plays militant Islamic fundamentalist movements. Probably not for kids… unless you’re actually Dick Cheney. K2 is a very simple, incredibly competitive game about racing to the top of K2, a.k.a. Savage Mountain, a.k.a. the mountain with the highest fatality to summit rate in the world. A game where, when I lost a mountaineer who froze to death in his tent in a blizzard, I felt like crying. And I'm 26! Probably not for kids (unless your kids are tougher than me, which wouldn’t be hard, to be honest). Archipelago is a game where players are European colonists trying to scratch out a profit from a South Pacific island chain; simultaneously working alone to develop the island, and working together to make sure they’re not killed in a violent uprising. Probably not for kids… unless you’re actually Queen Victoria (which I really hope you’re not… ‘cause that would be… weird).

Very quickly, board games start to look like a much more reasonable thing to do with your time. Whether you’re invested in heavy, chess-like strategy that’ll let you best your friends; whether you want to have fun without drinking; or whether you want to have much more fun while drinking, there is a game out there for everybody, and that includes you. Here are a couple of pretty much perfect games that you could probably have an incredible time with no matter who you are:

The Resistance is a game that pitches you and your friends as an underground resistance cell, with no taking turns, no dice, not even a board. You and your friends just have to decide which of you will go on missions, with the twist that secretly around the table is a team of spies. The spies know who one another are, but the good guys don’t know who anybody is. And as teams start coming back with the news that someone anonymously sabotaged the plan, you’ll start distrusting your closest friends. It’s just 45 minutes of your friends accusing, lying, theorizing, I trust him I don’t trust her, sometimes getting little powers like one player must show one other player what side they’re on, until the end one team wins or loses, and all hell breaks loose as you find out your girlfriend was lying to your face the whole time. Or did I get you wrong? Maybe your idea of a good time isn’t lying to your friends faces; maybe you're not the confrontational type. In which case, say hello to Tales of the Arabian Nights. [Middle Eastern musical chord.] Tales of the Arabian Nights is a storytelling game, where you and your… this is probably racist, isn’t it? Where you and your friends will just be telling stories together. Do remember those Choose Your Own Adventure books you had as a kid? This is like the mother of all of those. Using an incredibly clever system of cards, and this ludicrous book, and matrixes, you will have… [Reference Pear falls off table and thuds]. You will have stories which are different every single time, from rescuing princess, to being lost and befuddled by genies in the European seas, to fighting to- getting your way out of problems with luck and guile. You have no idea what’s going to happen when you start Arabian Nights, but you and your friends will have an unbelievable time, just, telling stories together. And yeah, while it’s possible to win… that doesn’t matter, like so many board games these days.

[Quinns] Ahhhh… [to wife] I don’t think it’s coming out! [Wife] A little dab of olive oil on a cotton ball will help. [Quinns] Ol- Olive oil? What is wrong with women! [this is actually funny and not just weird in the video, trust me]

As a kicker, in an age where books, movies, video games — where ownership is becoming digital — board games give us something real to play with: something you can just hold, and collect. Because to be honest, holding a hand of cards feels, just, really good.

This is the scene your friend is part of. It’s big, it’s beautiful, and it’s growing! Sales have been going up for the last ten years. Now, because board gamers are generally a pretty awesome lot, if you’re at all interested in this stuff, you should definitely talk to your friend about getting involved in a game. Alternatively you could visit our site, Shut Up and Sit Down, for news, videos, reviews, and plenty of footage of grown men dressed as wizards… for some reason. What’s wrong with us? Uh… BYEEEEE!!! [outro music]

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gwen-writes-stuff · 5 years

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Draco : “Untold Tales” Part II

Part I

Words : 1682

Warning : Slight angst?

Y/N’s POV

I was peacefully enjoying a book Hermione suggested a month ago in the comfort of the Gryffindor common room when Ginny occupied the seat next to me to deliver a news I bloody did not need right now.

“I got you a date!” I gave her a puzzled look which she rolled her eyes at. “Klove, of course.” I almost hit my face with my book in frustration and had to bit my lower lip to contain a groan which she mistook for being shy. “You’ll do great, come on!”

Her encouraging smile did nothing to assure me.

I’ve been actively avoiding Draco since that night in that closet and it’s been a week! I’m pretty proud of myself for being able to avoid the Slytherin Prince that much. We argued before because he spoke foully of my friends yet I kept crawling back to him and he must’ve expected me to do the very same with how little effort he put in to getting me back.

I admit it hurt and made my decision of walking away right more. “Thanks Gin.” I genuinely thanked her with a small smile because as much as I hate the idea of going on a date while I just ended whatever with Malfoy, I recognize her effort. “Just don’t beat yourself up if it doesn’t go well.”

It went amazing! Klove was nice and really sweet but our date felt more like hanging out with an old friend. I was comfortable with him, he was funny and undoubtedly smart. If only I got attracted to him, than that damned ferret.

We came to a halt in the great hall where we parted for dinner, he sent me a small smile and I waved to sit with my friends who cheered me on. I blushed in embarrassment, settling down beside Hermione and Dean. Ron was stupidly wiggling his eyebrows at me and I threw a small piece of chicken at him.

It stuck to his hair and the disgusted look on his face satisfied me that I ignored their stupid cheering earlier to enjoy dinner after such a fun yet eventful day in Hogsmeade.

“You look like you had fun,” Hermione from beside me spoke up, this was all her! I remembered my anger for her but it melted away when she wasn’t looking me. I followed her line of sight and saw Draco who is glaring at me. I felt like shrinking in my seat that I quickly hid my eyes behind Hermione’s shoulder and turned back to my plate.

Hemione did the same and hummed in satisfaction, “He’s mad,” I whispered like it was a bad thing and it bloody was! I suddenly remembered our last fight that almost left me unable to walk to class the next morning because Draco takes out his anger in such a way that would make my mother pass out if she ever knew.

“Exactly,” I frown at Hermione’s triumphant grin. She met my frown and shrugged. “You obviously weren’t making an effort to fix your mess of a relationship- wait, no there’s not any. Which is the bloody point of making him jealous,” she paused to lower her voice and Ron raised his eyebrows at this.

I gave him a look and he turned away, “He’ll realize just how much you’re worth, what you deserve and how much of a git he is.” I still didn’t quiet understand but I knew from the start that she had a plan, having the smartest witch of her age for a friend had it’s perks.

I almost screamed when I was grabbed from the hall and into a broom closet. Bloody again. I was quick to grab my wand and point it at the idiot, I casted a lumos and found I’m dangerously pointing my wand at someone’s neck. “It’s just me,” he assured me with raised hands and I sarcastically smile.

“Exactly, it’s just you.” I refused to put my wand away for a solid minute and gave in, he smirked at this which I hated. He already thinks I’m caving in so when he tried to reach for my waist I stepped back and crossed me arms with a stern expression.

“What was that yesterday at dinner?” he cleared his throat and stepped closer, I stepped back and it went on like that until my back softly collided with a wall and he towered over me. His hooded eyes showing desperation.

“I had a date,” I innocently smiled up at him and I didn’t miss the shifting of his mood. I couldn’t read his expression but it certainly meant the opposite of delighted. “Now step away, I need to meet him for a study date.” It was a lie and Klove is most definitely not waiting for me in the library.

“What game are you playing?” he stepped closer and the little distance we have disappeared into nothingness when his chest pressed against mine and I had to fight back the urge to pull his tie and lock his lips with mine.

“What game?” I asked with feigned innocence.

“We both know you’re doing this on purpose,” he stated in a matter-of-fact tone, “To make we want you more? Afraid I’d get tired.”

Before my head could process his hurtful words that cut me up like knife, my hand swung. My palm collided with his pale cheek that gained the bright color of scarlet, “Don’t you ever come to think that I just realized I deserve better than a loathsome ferret like yourself?” angry, hot bead of tears rolled down my cheeks. “I deserve more than to be snogged in a dirty broom closet, disregarded whenever you’ve got a hoard of girls fawning over you!”

If looks could kill, Draco Malfoy would be on the floor right now with a heart refusing to beat. “Y/N. . .” he whispered my name but I didn’t give in, him merely mumbling it would’ve had me weak in the knees but not anymore.

Only then when I walked away from him for the second time did I realize how damned I am. I’m in love with Draco Malfoy.

A month. That’s how long time has passed since I made myself clear with Malfoy. I didn’t go to any more dates but Oliver and I became close friends and a week in in our friendship I told him about my Malfoy situation which he was shocked to find out. His words being: “I never expected, you’re friends with Harry and you’re a Gryffindor while he’s. . . him.”

I remember laughing because he and I really are an unlikely couple.

“I don’t see Klove pulling any move on you,” Ginny boredly muttered behind me, I’m sat on the floor while Ginny sit on the couch to braid my hair. She’s not the best at it but she tries and I’m more than willing to volunteer to be someone she could practice on.

“Is that a bad thing?” I asked, stifling a snort because I know where this is going.

“Be honest with me,” she began and I animatedly gulped, “Did you start to lose interest in him once you got to know him better?” I didn’t answer. “It’s alright, that’s normal. That just means it wasn’t love. Just a crush.” She hummed and used her wand to conjure flowers to decorate on my hair.

“Turns out he’s not my type,” I mumbled bitterly, he should be my type because he’s the exact opposite of a certain ferret yet I just see him as a friend and the platonic feeling is mutual.

“Then what is your type?” she asked with a playful tone, she really is a Weasley. No doubt in that.

“My type is. . .” a blonde Slytherin boy with hypnotizing silver eyes, sly smirk, bratty personality and oh he hates all of my friends! “A typical misunderstood, bad boy.” She giggled at my answer and gestured me to sit beside her. She propped one leg on the couch to face me and smiled.

“I never took you for being one of those girls,” she teased and I shake my head laughing.

“You have no idea.” I reply and our conversation is cut short when Lavender Brown walked in adoring my hair.

The Summer Ball about to be held a month before the end of our term, exclusively for sixth and fifth-years, turned Hogwarts into a frenzy. Girls obsessing over their looks; figuring if they looked pretty enough, a boy would ask them because Merlin forbid they go alone. Boys on the edge of their seats because they’ve been tasked with the lovely task of asking the girls to be their dates to the said ball. It was unspoken but the world seemed to agree that men should be the one to pursue women.

“I thought you didn’t like Klove anymore? Why are you going with him?” Ginny asked me while she make sure the dress Molly sent was to satisfaction.

“I don’t. We’re going as friends Gin.” She narrowed her eyes at me and I dismissed her with a wave, checking my own dress.

With how much chaos seemed to fall upon me this year this ball is gonna be one good thing. I will enjoy myself with my newfound best friend who happens to be male and good-looking and dance and laugh with my friends and eat. Most specially eat.

I expected the evening to go well, but apparently that was too much to ask for when as I was dancing with Oliver a hand reached for me to pull me away.

To be continued. . .

Am I dragging this on? Maybe but it’s my fic so I’m allowed to do that muahahaha!

By the way, thank you so much for the nice feedbacks on this dragged out imagine, I am also thankful for the 49 followers I miraculously earned in just 3 imagines posted! I still accept requests~~~

#draco #Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy imagines #draco x reader #draco x reader imagine #tom felton #hogwarts #slytherin #hp #potterhead #i suck at writing holy fuck #send me request so i dont keep coming up with terrible prompts!

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istheresomebodywhocanimagine · 5 years

Text

Legs

notyoursneverwas-post said: hello my dear, are your requests open? if so, i have a little idea! 💓 could you write an imagine with reader x roger, where she is a politics student and she's just really into politics and really smart and one time she's with roger at the club, she wants to fight 2 guys, who are very ignorant and just have dumb views on politics and she's like fighting them?? and roger thinks she's adorable and protects here? it would be so AMAZING! i hope you have a great day and thanks for doing all this!💓

(a/n: did a little research for this one, had a night off from work and felt like seeing if i could get this one out tonight. also requests ARE open! Just don’t know how fast they will come out, seeing as I’m back in classes again and my new classes are intensive upper level credits, so the imagines will come out sporadically!! ily! also i figured i should start moving the read more down a bit to give little hints of my work on first glance hehe ok to the imagine)

Your best friend (with a few benefits) Roger was never one to pass up a night out on the town. So, when you hinted at it after a particularly long day of classes, he practically jumped at the offer. You had planned on studying for finals that night, but you needed a drink, and so did he. On top of that, Roger had already been toying with the idea of going out with the boys that night, so you all agreed to go together. Problem was, you were having trouble finding something to wear.

“You’ll be the token woman of the group, it doesn’t matter what you wear!” Roger teased, sitting on the edge of your bed and kicking his feet out as he fell back onto it. He started playing with the buttons on his white shirt, unbuttoning it to the middle, and sighed. “Wear those striped bell bottoms with the white blouse tied up, you’ll have legs for days! Men will be lining up! ”

You rolled your eyes at his flirty undertones, peeking out of your closet for a moment. He was always like this, never had his mind out of the gutter, especially around you. “I’ll smack you silly, Taylor. Keep your mind off my legs!”

“I’m just saying!” he laughed, sitting up and throwing his hands in the air innocently. “It’s a fact!”

You gave him a warning look, then grinned before going back into your closet to find the vertically-striped bell bottoms. “Watch it, mate.” Recently, you’d been trying to fend off his advances until he committed a bit more to going steady with you, and it had been a bit trying for both of you considering you were still close friends.

“Oof,” he said, clutching at his chest dramatically. “So serious, Y/N. If you were any more serious, you’d be a politics major. Oh wait…” he trailed off, grinning at his own stupid joke as you came out of the closet, buttoning up the high-waisted bell bottoms and giving him an eye roll in response. “You took my advice, smart girl!” he cheered, clapping a few times at the outfit while you slipped into your platforms.

“I hate to admit it, but you do give the best fashion advice,” you mumbled, focusing mainly on tying your shirt up at your midriff. You watched yourself in the mirror to do so, and when you were done you glanced over in the mirror to see Roger staring at you in it, a shit-eating grin on his face. You groaned, grabbing your purse and turning to face him. “Come on, you perv. We’ve got to get to the club, the boys will be there soon.”

“Lining up, Y/N!” he proclaimed as he followed you out the door, ignoring your complaints. “They’ll be lining up! And I’ll be the first!”

You didn’t beat the boys to the club, but they weren’t hard to find amongst crowd. In fact, they’d managed to grab a booth before the place had exploded with people. You took a seat between John and Roger after grabbing a pint at the bar, where some people were watching the football match between Brazil and England on a big box TV behind the bar. You’d never cared much for the sport, as the matches seemed long and low-scoring, but you appreciated it nonetheless.

“Fashionably late?” John asked, referring to your outfits. Neither you nor Roger had underdressed in the slightest, contrasting with John’s jeans and plain blue button up.

“Even politicians have more sense of style than you, John, does that bother you?” Roger retorted, John waving him off in response and taking another drink of his lager.

“Roger, as much as I enjoy teasing John, I can handle my own witty remarks, thank you,” you said, using a warning tone that made Roger hold up his hands in surrender. You instead struck up a conversation with John about classes, seeing as he was a bit younger than the rest of you but remarkably advanced in his field.

After downing your first pint, you excused yourself from the conversation and went to go get another at the bar, Roger saying he’d be there in a moment and whistling after you when you started to walk away, earning a generous middle finger from you.

You approached the bar, waiting for the bartender to give you your turn, and started to watch the football match on the TV. It seemed uneventful at the moment, one Brazil man you somewhat recognized blurring across the screen a couple times. The men nearby that were watching it booed as he did, both of them seeming upset. At first, you figured they were just England fans, but what one of them spit out next stopped you dead in your tracks.

“Bah! His kind shouldn’t even be allowed on the field, fucking disgusting, it is.” It was enough to make your blood boil as you struggling to ignore them, ordering another pint and gripping the edge of the bar tightly.

“You’re absolutely right, Pelé and his whole squad are disgraces to football. Rigged!”

The bartender took your money, ignoring the men down the bar as well and dutifully getting you another beer as you stared straight ahead, struggling to keep your mouth shut. But then the first man said it. He called him that horrific word, six letters, two syllables, starting with an N. The bartender paused for a moment, then shook their head and handed you the beer. You were far past worrying about the beer, however, and you only grabbed it as a possible weapon as you pushed past people down to where the pair men sat crowded around the TV. Approaching the first one, who’d been the last to speak, you dove right in.

“Hey!” you called out, tapping rather forcefully on his shoulder. He turned around, looking at you up and down and smirking.

“You could have just said excuse me, Legs, I’d scoot over for ya,” he replied lecherously, not sure what to make of your aggressive demeanour despite the fact that he was flirting with you. You gagged for a moment, then sat your beer down on the bar and crossed your arms, not even flinching as he stood up in front of you.

“No, what did I hear you say just now?” you demanded. He looked confused, unaware of what you were referring to.

“Legs?” he asked, giving you a look like you were the stupidest person on this side of the planet.

“No, before that!” you replied, your face heating up as you dared him to say it again. And after a smirk and a glance at Pelé on the screen, he did.

“Is that what you meant?” he clarified, steam practically shooting out of your ears at this point.

“You’ve got a set of balls, haven’t you? You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

The guy, who at this point was looking at his friend as if to say ‘this twit,’ shrugged and put his hands in his pockets, smiling almost creepily. “I suppose I do. What’s it to you, are you one of those crazy slags who’s all about civil rights and women’s liberation?”

You raised an eyebrow at the word slag, resisting the urge to swing at him this very instant. “So what if I am? Let’s see who’s on the right side of history in 30 years, mate. Me, or you and your National Front mates?”

“What’s wrong with the National Front?” the other man challenged, finally speaking up. Standing up as well, he was directly behind his friend’s left shoulder, looking at you like you were the scum of the earth. “At least we’re trying to keep tradition alive and make this place not such a fucking shithole for everyone. You and your lot have gone bonkers, you’re filling the whole country with illegals and colored people,” he said, putting a disgusted emphasis on the last two words.

“Jesus Christ, you’re both mental!” you exclaimed, hardly even believing your ears. “You believe you’re cleaning up the cities, when all you’re doing is oppressing and oppressing and denying people like us basic human rights! I can’t even fucking get birth control without paying out the arse for it-“

“Then don’t have sex,” the first one chimed in, getting a nasty look from you. “No one’s forcing you.”

“Oh really?” you remarked bitterly, crossing your arms again. “You think no National Front muppet has ever forced someone to have sex with them? You’re delusional, mate, seriously. And don’t even get me started on your policies, that’s a completely new field of shit.” Though you didn’t know it, Roger had came up to the bar where you were just moments ago, and was now spectating on your bitter back-and-forth with the two men, smiling a bit. You were such a feisty thing, he found it to be one of his favorite qualities of yours. Although he didn’t find you nearly as intimidating because of how much he knew you, it was endearing and he thought you looked really adorable when you got mad.

“Oh piss off,” the second man groaned, clearly over you already. “You probably haven’t got a fucking clue about politics, you daft cunt.”

“I mean, she’s a political science major, so there’s that,” Roger cut in, his voice appearing behind your right shoulder and almost making you jump. You appreciated his presence, but at the same time, you wanted to tell him that you didn’t need his help. The two men looked at him like he was an alien, but Roger appeared entirely unbothered as he went to stand at your side, nonchalantly putting his hands in his pockets. “What’s the problem here, boys?”

“She’s got all pissy because apparently I said a no-no word,” the first one spit back, not even bothering to size up Roger as he stared straight at you, something like malice in his eyes.

“Well, what’d he say?” Roger inquired, looking at you curiously. He had to smile at how angry you looked. It was, as he noted before, cute, but he decided against pointing that out to you right now. Nonetheless, he couldn’t help but be attracted to you, even more so in that moment. And that made him want to protect you even more, so he stepped so that he was at least partially between you and the men.

You crossed your arms even further, nodding towards him, then looking at Roger. “Ask him.”

Roger didn’t even have to ask, because the first man jerked a thumb back at the screen and repeated that horrid word for the third time, smirking. “Brazil’s team is full of ‘em. And your little lady here is about to catch a fucking haymaker if she doesn’t get off my case about it.”

“Jesus,” Roger said under his breath, knowing he needed to get you out of that situation now or it was about to get rough. He thought that one second too late, because you’d already grabbed your beer from the bar, taken a quick drink, then threw it in the first man’s face. Roger cursed loudly and turned quickly, wrapping an arm around your waist and tossing you over his shoulder as you tried to throw hands at the now-soaked man who was still in shock. “You’re something, Y/N!” Roger laughed, hoping that he could get out of the club before you broke free.

“Fucking fascist pigs!” you practically screamed, ignoring Roger completely.

“That’s right, take your stupid cunt of a girlfriend elsewhere, mate!” the man yelled after him, now wiping his face off with a couple of cocktail napkins and spewing all types of slurs and general bullshit at you as you flipped him off with both hands, Roger managing to get you out of the club’s door with some difficulty.

Once you were down the sidewalk a bit, Roger finally sat you down, standing between you and the club’s entrance. You started pacing immediately, ranting as Roger stood there with crossed arms and watched you.

“The fucking nerve of that knobhead! Out in broad daylight, just spewing out that nonsense like he was actually delivering the message of God! I’d like to give him a good fucking smack across the face for that shit, I would! What a complete moron - and then they both have the fucking audacity to tell me that I don’t know a fucking thing about politics! Well, fucking excuse me, I forgot I was supposed to be a dumb slag that cooks and cleans and waits hand and foot on fucking men!”

Roger smirked as he listened to you, admiring how passionately you felt about what had just happened. Also, he found it hard to take your anger seriously, even if you were making valid points. It just made you look even cuter to him, and now was not the right time to give in and ask you out for real.

You slowed down after a minute, sighing raggedly and looking over to Roger, who you found to be smiling. “What’s so funny, Roger?” you complained, looking at him with almost a sad look in your eyes. Roger shrugged, trying to hide his smile as you started to tug at your earlobe anxiously, walking over to him. “I could use a hug,” you pretty much demanded, Roger obliging and pulling you into a warm, firm hug. You buried your face in his shoulder, appreciating that he smelled good tonight, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

After a while of just standing there embracing you, Roger finally cleared his throat. “You know, Y/N, earlier I was pretty set on the legs for days thing, but I think you’ve found a new niche with this “cute when angry” thing.”

You gasped and pulled away as far as he would let you, smacking his chest gently as he laughed at your disgust. “You’ve got some fucking nerve too!” you almost whined, trying to push him away and hide your laughter.

Roger’s laugh was always contagious to you, though, so you couldn’t help but start laughing at him, still trying to wriggle out of his grasp. It was just tight enough to keep you locked in his embrace, and yet you kept fighting. “I’m joking, I’m joking!” Roger exclaimed between fits of laughter, grinning. “You can do both of them, though - now then you’d be a real force!”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were flirting with me right now, Mr. Taylor,” you remarked, giving him a pointed look as he kept his arms around your waist, an innocent look on his face.

“Well, you should be thankful you’re cute, because you’re actually daft if you don’t know that I am,” he replied quickly, giving you the same pointed look in return. You grinned, shaking your head at him, and he whined playfully, pulling you as close as possible and resting one hand on the bare skin of your side, his thumb rubbing circles just below your ribs. “C’mon, I’ve been flirting with you for ages, don’t be coy with me all of a sudden. And we both know that you’re cute and brilliant, so you can’t be that oblivious.”

Sighing, you wrapped your arms around his neck, deciding you could relent for one night. Besides, you could get all your frustrations at that stupid man out too. “You do have a point.” With that, you leaned in, kissing him lightly, and he kissed back almost immediately, hungry for what he’d been missing since you left him out to dry.

But you weren’t going to let him have the satisfaction quite yet, so you pulled away after gently biting onto his lower lip, tugging a bit before letting go and pulling away completely. Roger groaned as you did so, upset at the loss of contact. “But if you ever step in and try to protect me from Nazi pricks again, I’ll chop your balls off, I swear on it.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want that,” Roger chuckled, shaking his head before diving in for another kiss, murmuring against your lips between kisses, “I guess I can live with those terms, love.”

#roger taylor #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x reader #queen imagine

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crimsonbluemoon · 5 years

Text

My Tumblr Birthday!

Sooooo according to my archives and such, exactly one year ago today I became a member of the bbs fandom! It’s been a hell of a year, I will tell you that.

So just some thoughts about this weird ass journey, if you’d be so kind to humor an old woman.

I kind of remember coming into this fandom not really expecting much? Like I kinda squirmed my way in thinking that it’d be really cool to like, read other peoples stories and get to know everyone. I don’t really know how, but I got attention because of my Cops AU idea that sort of caught wildfire. Then I posted my first little stories about Christmas and such before my bigger story, Want You, and I was so amazed by the love and affection it got on this platform (I put it on Ao3 but it just wasn’t the same).

I also remember how stunned I was with 100 followers? I felt like I had reached my peak and I couldn’t really go any higher. Again, I managed to get lucky by making some really good friends at the start of my fandom life and kind of being able to joke around and gain attention from them. It wasn’t any super big, but I was thankful for the time they gave me. Watching Deli draw, getting to know Kiwi, admiring Bels and Ether and Grace’s works. It was all so wonderful!

Then around January, Sherry sent me a message asking me to help with an idea about a BBS shipping server. And it was crazy how that changed my life. The server brought good and bad things out, and I won’t say I never thought of just tossing in the towel and leaving. But I’m so happy that I stayed! I met people like Sei and Shorty and Pandy and Cana and Moon through my server. I got to see them grow as people and shared laughs with them. I also got to open up a bit and learn that it was okay to not be perfect. Because damn do I want to be perfect. But they supported me there, and evern at my darkest point,those who I never thought would stick up for me did.

I learned what it felt like to be hated. I learned what it felt like to have people who didn’t know me, know my story, know my past and know my insecurities, rip me apart and make me feel worthless. I learned that sometimes, simply having a different opinion about a ship or a boy could make the nicest of people reject you. I learned that sometimes, people you thought would always be supportive and understanding of you could turn on you and never speak to you again. It was weird, knowing that despite the followers numbers that grew and the asks/fans who reached out to me and told me how ‘inspiring’ i was, I could feel so empty. To this day, I’m still struggling with this concept. I wanna figure myself out, and how I got to where I am while also not knowing who I am.

I started up one of the coolest projects in my life here; Libahunt. I’ve written stories before, don’t get me wrong. I’ve written stories for bigger fandoms, with more comments, more kudos, more views. BBS is a small time fandom, so I knew what I was getting into. But man, for such a little place, y’all have big hearts. The love, support, and just damn attention I got for this story was amazing. The fanart? I cant even begin to tell you how much that all means to me. Every time I see a piece, my heart melts to think I got to inspire someone. Hearing people freak out in discord, seeing the reblogs and comments you make...that’s all I want in life. So honestly, thank you all for making me realize how much I love this story and helping me get my ass back in gear to write it properly.

Kind of on the same topic, I really got to thank some super important people for just...being there for me. I can’t list EVERYONE because jesus I would be here forever, but these ones just...they really stick out for me.

@firstaidquarters: My writing wife, half of my brain, my HC partner in crime, honestly one of the best people I’ve met. Ever. Like, do you get how much you mean to me? How you just make my world a better place? If I’m mad or sad or hyper or just being fucking stupid, you’re there. You literally spent 28 hours helping me write a story without ever asking anything in return. I wanted to quit, I wanted to throw my computer and never look at it again. But you just...sat there and kept me going. And now? It’s fucking amazing because of you. And I never have to explain myself to you. You just get it. And God I can’t even say enough how much our HCing has been a blessing. I don’t even think you realize that without you, I wouldn’t still be in this fandom. I cannot thank you enough, even if you created that wretched Minibat.

@kihorri : We weren’t close originally but jesus you came in like a wrecking ball, eh? My life has been crazy since I did that Banana Bus Tales thing with you. You helped get my name on the map. And for the past couple months, I’ve really adored the frienship we’ve created. Our DM messages are probably enough to get us sent to hell, but I’m okay with that. Each time you tell me you’re reading my story, I melt. Like to think you’d waste your time on me? To get to joke with you about ‘certain’ types of stories and watch you draw silly pictures...it makes my world! You drive me up a wall every way you can, you make me cry from your beautiful art, but you could put the pencil down and never draw again and I’d still wanna talk to you every day. Even with your horrible sleep schedule.

@mssjynx : YOU! God you are a menace. Sneaky other writing wife. But like, one of the best writers in the BBS/Misfits fandom. You make me wanna read angst. Do you know how hard that is?!?! Like jesus man, you were so amazing with your cute stuff and your sad stuff. And you’re just as wonderful outside of your stories. I give you shit, I pull your tail, and we bicker like old women, but you are one of the sweetest people I got to meet in this fandom and even if I threaten it, I’ll never divorce you ( I mean you killed all the lawyers so...).

@piwiskiwi: My libahunt artist! Your work is AMAZING. And you are just so prescious? I dont get to talk to you as much as I want to, but you were one of the first people I really connected to in this fandom and you don’t understand how much joy your art brings me. Like, you’re a rock star. You helped me at the start of Libahunt when it was just an idea, you helped create these pictures that others now use as references. You’re kind and funny, and even if you feed into Bel’s crazy ship, you’re the best partner for Libahunt I could ask for.

Honestly, there’s so many others! I wanna write you all something because you all have changed me in one way or the other. But I’d be here all night and I don’t wanna take up all of your time. So just know this: You all made me who I am. Without you, the person reading this right now, I wouldn’t be Crim. That means the world to me. So, you mean the world to me. Thank you for being around for my first year here. And I don’t know if you guys will care, or if anyone even remembers memories with me or if I’m just an author you read, but I just...thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. <3

And also thanks for letting me reach 1500 followers. (Eh its closer to 1600 now, cause this happened like 3 weeks ago but I just wanted to wait until my 1 year to say it all at once. No need for two sappy posts.)

Sincerely,

CrimsonBlueMoon <3

#thank you all #one year!#wow #I can't believe it #1500 followers?!#you people are crazy #but I love you #thanks again #you're my heart #<3 #bbs fandom #you're amazing #bbs #crimsonbluemoon

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andy-loves-corgis · 5 years

Text

Enough for you (Drake x MC)

Book: The Royal Romance (Future)

Pairing: Drake X MC,

Rating: M (a little NSFW-ish)

A/N: @drakewalkerrosenberg asked me about the biggest fight Riley and Drake had, so here it is. It’s also my first take on married Riley and Drake. I hope you enjoy it.

She gripped the sides of the book she was reading, she could hear the faint music coming from the grand ballroom of her estate, they were holding yet another fundraising ball, this time for flood relief in Portavira, she had promised Penelope and Zeke that she would help them a few weeks ago. Of course, it was before her diagnosis.

Preeclampsia.

The word was engraved in the back of her head and all around her 37-weeks belly, she inhaled deeply again, she felt like her whole existence rested on that word, what once was a happy time for her and Drake was now a nightmare.

The doctor asked her not to step aside from politics during that time.

Even though I’m a fucking duchess in the middle of a conflict of interests with other nobles.

He also suggested bedrest, not all the time, but her ever-so-caring husband wouldn’t let her leave the bed for more than 2 hours, and it wasn’t like he was staying there with her, no. As Duke of Valtoria, Drake had to take on her responsibilities, she had even to hire and assistant to him, since he refused to let her into the turmoil of the negotiations with Cormery Isle.

She was so done with being shut down of everything. When her feet touched the ground, she relished on the feeling of the rug on her bare feet, her hand placed upon her swollen belly, they wanted to be surprised on the sex of their baby, maybe only a couple of weeks and the future Duke or Duchess would grace their household.

She walked to her wardrobe her fingers resting on a rosé dress Ana De Lucca has made specially to this night, it would be a shame if it went to waste, she grinned mischievously, Drake could be mad, but she was sure once he saw her it would all be alright.

Slowly she slipped some rhinestones flats on her feet, being careful to avoid her reflection, she hated how she looked like a hot air balloon in anything she wore. She had to remind herself that it wasn’t the reason why Drake has been turning her down for over a month.

He’s just worried, we all are. You need to get out of mommy, little person, so I can have my hot body back.

Riley snuck her head outside their master suite, feeling excited as she was when she met Drake in the shadows, over 4 years ago. Following the waltzing melodies, she made her way through their halls, taking in the beauty of the paintings hanging there, she missed painting too.

Half hi in the shadows, she scanned the crowd looking for him. If she still knew her husband, he would be… yes, there he was, by the bar. She shook her head, making a mental note to scold him to sneak from his own ball to drink.

Her internal smile died when a tall blonde handed him a tumbler of whiskey, her curves accentuated in a silky silver dress, her blonde hair falling in loose curls around her young face, she laughed heartedly brushing her finger in his upper arm patting his hair and laughing again, throwing her locks over her shoulder. Riley’s gaze turned to Drake that seemed unfazed by her little show, though he seemed to be having fun.

It was his assistant. Amelia D’Angelo, 25 years old, had an impressive resumé at such a young age and appeared very serious on her job. Appeared. For a second Riley closed her eyes, breathing in, she couldn’t let her anger take the best of her, it was a health matter.

“Oh my god, Riley!” she heard the fuzzy sound of Hana’s voice near the door. “I’m so happy to see you”.

“Oh Hana, thank you for coming!” she tried to smile. “I’ll come right back, just need find Drake.”

With a brief hug she marched towards the bar but was stopped by another of her best friends.

“Riley, you came. You are so big!” Maxwell’s eyes glinting, his soft hands touching the sides of her belly.

“Thanks Max” she said gritting her teeth, he could be so dense sometimes, she was about to dodge him when another voice caught her attention.

“What are you doing here.” Drake’s voice was one step from showing how mad he was, his lips on a thin line.

Riley felt her rage coming back, as soon as Amelia walked right behind him looking puzzled.

“Could you excuse us?” Riley used the diplomatic tone she took years to perfect and saw as the girl looked at Drake to confirm, making Riley’s nostrils flare.

“What are you doing here, York?” his use of her maiden name, made her think he wasn’t that mad at her.

“I didn’t want the dress go to waste, besides, I miss dancing with my husband.” She missed too many things, to be honest.

“There’s no way in hell I’ll let you hit this dancefloor, you need rest” he said taking her hand, like a parent with a brat child, leading her to her throne, so she could sit.

“I thought you would be happier to see me, but you seemed like you were having so much fun without me.” She used her most sarcastic tone, the one she knew Drake hated.

“I’m always happy to see you, mostly when you’re happily tucked on our bed, taking care of your health.” His whispers hushed.

“Oh sure, so you can fool around with your new assistant?” the words escaped her mouth before she could think about them.

Never before she had seen Drake so outraged.

“Are you insane?” his voice rising.

She tried to even her breath, but the hot anger boiling inside her was making her dizzy.

“See, that’s what I was talking about.” Now he had gone full mad at her.

Drake took her hand as she forcefully shut her eyes to see if the dizziness lessened, he guided her back to their room in a sepulchral silence. He took her out of her dress, not like all the other times he undressed her after balls, this time was if he wanted to get it over with, seating her on the bed and taking her flats, pressing on her skin to check for swelling.

“I texted Amelia, she will take care of the ball, since I will stay here making sure you don’t leave this bed.” Drake got up taking his jacket off and loosening his tie

Riley chewed on the inside of her cheeks.

“Good to know you are text pals now.” Her voice like venom spilling on her chin.

“What is your problem, Riley?” now she was in danger, using her first name was reserved to either when he was calling her name during sex or when he was angry.

“MY problem? You wanna know my problem?” she was about to get up, but his look made her stay sitting, she knotted her robe around her before continuing. “My fucking problem is that you put me on a golden cage, where I’m not allowed to paint, to talk about my damn job, I can’t barely leave this bed!”

“The doctor said you…”

“So I go there to surprise you, fill myself with a little joy before our world becomes our child and find you getting very close to a staff member?” her sight was blurred, and she felt the tears threatening to fall.

“How can you think that?” she had hurt him. “Not only thinking I would be sleeping around with our staff, but that I would be sleeping around in the first place.”

“You don’t even TOUCH me Drake.” Hot and wet strings crossing her face. “You barely look at me twice, so… so I should understand I’m not funny, or hot anymore because I’m sick and could hurt our child.”

She gave in to the sobs, after a few seconds she felt his arms wrap around her. She tried to fight him at first, but he wouldn’t let her go.

“I love you, York. 7 years ago, you came into my life like a distant dream, I would never do anything that could risk what we have.” He whispered in her hair, making her cry even harder. “I’m sorry.”

He laid her on the bed and stroke her hair until her sobs died down and she drifted to sleep.

Two hours later she woke up to a buzzing sound, Drake sound asleep beside her, still wearing his suit. She reached to her nightstand, but wasn’t on her side of the bed, drowsily grabbing Drake’s phone instead.

Amelia Assistant 45 minutes ago: Hello Mr. Walker, just so you know, the party went well, though you were fairly missed.

Amelia Assistant 10 minutes ago: I enjoyed our conversation today and think that our work together is really paying, if you want to relax after everything that happened with your wife, you can meet me.

Amelia Assistant Now: I’m waiting for you at your office.

A breath caught on her throat, she knew that there was something to suspect and it wasn’t her husband, now, it wasn’t the hot-blooded anger she used to feel, it was an icy determination. She carefully moved Drake’s arm from around her and put on her slippers, marching across the halls into her office, which Drake had been using.

“I knew you wanted this too, Mr. Walker…” Amelia turned around, wearing a silky black nightdress and a terrified look on her face once she met the Duchess. “Your Grace, is everything alright?”

“Good evening, Miss D’Angelo” Riley smiled at her, watching her pull the neckline of her skimpy nightdress up. “Please, sit.”

“Do you want me ask someone from the staff for a more comfortable chair for you, Your Grace?” Amelia kept pulling her hair behind her ear.

“Oh that’s very kind from someone wanting to fuck my husband.” Riley’s voice dripped sweetness, but her face was devilish. “Don’t worry, I’ll stand. It won’t take long.”

“Your Grace I wasn’t… I…” she started to speak, but Riley cut her.

“You know that my main flag for this duchy is Women’s Rights and Feminism, so the first thing I did was suspect my husband, someone who took a bullet from me, but I was wrong, I see…”

“I fell in love, he didn’t even bother to bring your name up in conversations.” Amelia’s tone was sharp, disgusted, making Riley rise one brow.

“You see, Amelia. I know girls like you.” She took two steps towards the table. “You think you’re entitled to everything, that you are better than the wives of the men you seduce, you trust your face and your body so much, but if we take all of that, what’s left? Nothing.”

The girl gulped.

“Eight years ago, I was serving tables and Drake was taking care of the stables, and if I had not be given this duchy, I would’ve happily moved back to the U.S with him, to serve tables happily and live in a hole-in-wall apartment, just to sleep by his side every night. He didn’t even bring my name in conversations because you’re not even worthy to hear my name.” Riley stood royally above Amelia, who trembled in fear and anger.

“Are you going to fire me?” Amelia asked, without meeting Riley’s gaze.

“No.” Riley stated, and the girl looked puzzled at her. “I’d rather see you work every day under the whispers of the staff, who will certainly know about this little conversation, and seeing how a man who respects his woman treats someone who doesn’t. Have a good night, Miss D’Angelo.”

Riley turned to the door and met Drake on the other side.

“I saw the messages and I was about to come and fire her, but I think you handled that pretty well” he smirked, and she rolled her eyes.

“Let’s go back to sleep, this child is throwing a party in my womb” her hand held her stomach as their child moved.

Drake laid with his head on the side of her belly, caressing and whispering to it until they fell asleep.

Riley woke up late on the next day, with the sound of Drake in jeans and white Henley getting in the room with breakfast.

“Rise and shine, my love” he set the tray next to their bed and sat beside her.

“I woke up with a resignation letter on my table. Looks like I don’t have an assistant anymore.” He grinned.

“Oh what a pity.” Riley feigned sadness.

Drake lowered his head to kiss her.

“And I also wanted to say that…” he moved his lips to her ear “Hearing you last night was so hot.”

Riley hummed, biting her lip as one of his hands found her breast, rolling her nipple in his fingers.

“Maybe I can show you how much…” his hands were about to travel south when she held his wrist.

Drake looked puzzled at her.

“Drake, I think my water broke…”

Tagging people who might like it: @agent-bossypants; @silviasutton1989; @sleepwalkingelite; @ooo-barff-ooo; @likethetailofacomet

#drake x mc #drake walker #the royal romance #the royal romance fanfic #choices fanfiction #choices stories you play

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elejah-wonderland · 5 years

Text

The Sun and The Moon Curse/7

Fanfiction

Part 7

Elijah Mikaelson x Elena Gilbert

ft other tvd characters - Klaus Mikaelson, Katherine Pierce, Esther Mikaelson

set after tvd 3x14/15

Summary: Elijah asks Elena at the Mikaelson Ball to tell her what his mother wanted from her. Elena divulges Esther’s plan to the Original, and as the ritual fails, Elena goes away from Mystic Falls with Elijah. How will their lives change as Klaus can’t make anymore hybrids...

a/n: There is quite a bit of invented mythology from me. Thanks so much for reading this story, as it was my first tvd story ever. xoxo

tags @rissyrapp20 @dendrite-lover @captainshurley @cassienoble2000 @goddessofthunder112 @elejahforever @hides2000 @idkhaylijah

if anyone wants to be removed from the tag list, please let me know. xoxo

____

In the most elegant tiny attic apartment, Elijah and Elena laid together, eyes lost in a loving gaze. His fingers streamed lovingly over her arms, whispering a small I love you, making Elena’s heart shoot in million stars.

“I love you, too”- Elena said dearly and leaned over to the Original kissing him.

Drawing her closer to him, Elena snuggled up to the Original, laying her head on his chest, making loving circles around his stomach now, listening to his heart.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you after our talk in the Lockwood Mansion”- Elena now admitted.

Elijah wetted his lips now, a smile danced on his face, sharing the same sentiment-

“Likewise. But I must say that I was taken in the night we negotiated in your bedroom- your feisty, daring nature - was compelling- but - yes - it was then, when you returned to the Mayor’s house - walking through that door - determined to set the whole world on fire - in actual fact - you delving into my soul with a mere look into my eyes - “

Elena now beamed her look up at the Original. She clearly remembered that moment, and what she had seen - yes, he had cared about Katherine, but he had expressed that she had moved him, and that she was the one that shook his undead heart then.

“You - say that you will not make the same mistake again?”

“Oh, please don’t remind me of what I had said then.”- Elijah said brushing his thumb over her cheek lovingly and continued- “I was in love once before - and - “

“Katherine?”

“No. A witch. But it does not compare - not that I wish to compare - because you are unique. Your soul, your heart - does not - could not match any other woman- ever.”

Elena’s eyes glisten with tears brought up by the Original’s declaration. She thought she was in love before, but this was something that she could not describe. She felt she could touch the moonlight, her heart was shooting stars as he now pulled her to him, kissing her even more tenderly than before.

*******

Elsewhere

It was obvious to Yizel that Klaus would use all the resources possible to mask his whereabouts as Katherine and her found themselves yet again on a wild goose chase.

"To find a needle in a haystack would be easier."- " let's find Elena.

"If they are hiding so well, something is going on and you haven't told me the whole story."- Yizel said- " I think it's time you told me exactly what had happened."

Katherine rolled her eyes and then started with the rest of the story that took place and the story of her doppelganger and the Mikelsons supposed demise.

The witch now asked Katherine to pour the blood in a bowl. It wasn’t hard to locate Elena. They soon were on their way to Bucharest.

Katherine smirked with gladness that at least some things were finally going the way she wanted them to. The hatred she had harboured for the doppelganger couldn't be described. More than five hundred years of survival killed all real emotions in her. She wanted revenge and she didn't care what price she or anyone in her way would pay.

*******

Bucharest, Romania

Having eventually left the bed, Elijah and Elena left the villa as she wanted to see some of the city, do ordinary stuff, as she said. And she loved listening to him telling her his views about things and historical points. She could listen to him for hours. There was something in his voice that was inviting, calming and captures the listener fully. He told her about the time when the merchants and craftsmen established their stores in the early 1400s in the old district. She then asked about the infamous count Dracula, as they came to the place where the remains of the Old Princely Court was, and Elijah told the true gruesome story of the count Vlad Tepes, his victorious yet bloody battles against Turkish invasion, which was far different from the folklore built around him, and the fact that his younger brother had betrayed him, after which his decline was imminent. Elena could notice that Elijah's tone changed as he spoke about the count's brother.

"You agreed to Lia's deal-and it's not easy, you feel like you have betrayed him!"

"Elena, we had this conversation, not once. Klaus and I-you see- I failed him in so many ways. I have treated him like a spoiled child. Father used to beat him because he was not his son- and I tried to compensate somehow for all that time- I am very much to blame for who he is now,and I made a promise once a long time ago 'family above all-"

Elena could see that he was in great pain and he didn't hide it.

"You wished there was another way?!!"- she said empathically, understanding the complexity of it all.

"We both know that there is no other way. Lia offering him a human life. Maybe he can find some redemption in it- I just- let's continue walking shall we?!"- he said suddenly composing himself again.

"Elijah?! "- Elena laid her hand on the Original’s arm- " this is not your fault, nothing that Klaus does is your fault!"

There it was, her compassion trying to balance it all out. Her eyes truthfully believing in him and his redemption. She had the love he needed to see him through. He smiled a little and said- "Shall we?!" She nodded and they proceeded in silence.

As they came up to the Old Court Church. Elena wanted to go in.

"I will be waiting here for you."- Elijah said. She understood that he could not go in and then felt badly for a moment, but he urged her to go.

"I- well-I kind of want to light a candle for Damon. I don't know if it is right him being what he was."

"You should."- the Original nodded a little.

"Yes. I was so mad at him -cuz of the compulsions and - but he was there for me and when I left we didn't leave things in a good place, and I just-"

"Elena, he was human once and he had a soul.It doesn't matter where you do it! I'll wait here for you." - Elijah said dearly.

"Thank you"- she said and walked into the church. It was a small, but magnificently beautiful. She felt a tad bit strange to do this as he was a vampire, yet Elijah's words reminded him that once he was a human.

Elena came to the part where many yellow candles were burning for the souls of the loved ones. She lit a candle and placed it among the others. She needed to say goodbye to the vampire and thank him for having cared for her.

"I hope you are at peace now, Damon."

She looked around a little bit, and then walked slowly back to the entrance. Seeing Elijah patiently waiting for her to exercise something private made her heart flutter.

"Everything all right?!"- the Original asked politely, stating the obvious as she nodded with a little smile.

"I am a bit hungry." - Elena then said.

"Of course. You didn't have any breakfast. I am sorry."- and it seemed like they were back on with their plan to take time to themselves and indulge in being nothing else but tourists, a couple visiting and simply enjoying each other's company.

"I bet you know a good place?!"

Elijah nodded with a small smirk dancing on his face. They walked away from the church/ She took him by the hand and the Original couldn’t help but glance at his hand in hers. It felt unusual as he wasn't accustomed to those kind of public displays of affection.

“Everything ok?”- Elena asked.

“Perfectly.”- Elijah confirmed squeezing her hand lightly - “this way”

And they walked in the direction he pointed, hand in hand, followed by the sunshine behind them.

********************

In the Old Town, not far from the Church Elena and Elijah walked out of

Lia looked at her watch. It was nearly five in the afternoon. She drank her tea and enjoyed the buzzing café full of people.Then a woman in her late fifties came to her.

"Esther Mikaelson."- Lia said- "nice to finally meet you. I am Lia Vladu. Please sit down. I'd like to discuss with you something that would be of great interest to both of us."

******

Meanwhile in another part of Europe

Klaus wasn't very kind to the young witch, and there was no business deal to discuss. The poor woman laid in the bath tub as he'd overpowered her and mercilessly killed her.

"You do not play with me!"- he hissed as he got out of the hotel room.

Feride felt the demise of the young witch as if something had stabbed her right in the stomach. Lia felt the same. Just before Lia was to enter the villa with Esther, she stood as if she couldn't get any breath.

"Are you all right?"-Esther asked.

"Fine"- Lia said, although she knew that something was seriously wrong.

The women entered the house.

"This is a beautiful house"- Esther complimented her.

"Well, thank you. Please, if you would come through here"- Lia lead Esther into the living room.

The witch then murmured words in the old Dacian language sealing the room closed.

"What is this?"- Esther could feel a strange surge of magic enveloped her.

"Unfortunately, I had to contain you. I didn't really think that you were so strong minded."

"You brought me here on false pretences?!"- Esther said openly showing that she wasn't happy about what had occurred.

"I have no choice. I have to protect Elena and your son. You are unfortunatelly in my way."

"My children will bring you nothing but misery!"- Esther said agitated a bit, continuing- "I don't understand why you cannot see what abomination they are!"

"It is too late for being regretful about what you have done a thousand years ago. We have to fight the hybrids and I will need all your children on my side-at least those who want to go against them!"

Lia then heard Elijah and Elena enter the Villa. She excused herself and went out to meet them in the Hall.

*************************

In Germany

Feride felt that the power of five reincarnated witches break as one of the witches was now dead.

With her eyes full of tears she slammed down on the floor. She took time to mourn the passing. It was a harsh world, she knew that, and all she knew about the deadly soul of the most notorious vampire, now hybrid, came true.

"He will kill -and he would not think twice about it"- she remembered the lines she read about Niklaus Mikaelson.

With a heavy heart she got up and went to call Lia.

In Bucharest, both Elena and Elijah met Esther once again face to face. The Original witch couldn't get to them as she was now held captive, but they could converse. Elena wanted to leave mother and son on their own, but Elijah said that whatever was to be said could be done in her presence too.

"I wanted to mend my mistake!"- Esther started.

Elijah was serious. It was now time to finally speak with all cards openly laid down on the table.

"I can understand that."- Elijah said sincerely - "but you knew what was going to happen-you were a witch, and not just any!"

"You know of survival-I have been motivated to save my family-and after Henrik was killed-"

"Yes"- Elijah muttered, his face getting grim. He understood that part as he also would do anything to save his family.

"But-I have to carry this burden, I guess...like you have to carry yours!"- Esther said.

Elijah knew what she was talking about, as he had a great share of trespasses to live with himself.

She turned to Elena now.

"I see that you and Elijah share more than just a friendly understanding. Maybe for some reason he does deserve some light in his life! Still, never forget what he is!"

Elena's sombre face indicated that she understood what Esther meant. Without saying anything to it Elena just walked out of the room. Her heart felt like it was hit with dark magic. She felt an unsual pain in her gut.

Elijah went after the doppelganger rushly.

In the library, Lia finished her conversation with Feride. She brushed the tears off of her face as she put the phone down.

There was more carnage to follow and the witches knew that.

She now took a moment to reconsider what would be the next step. Time could not be wasted. Once again she read about the ritual that was to take place. She calculated out the moon and the sun conjunction that was to happen before she had planned it, and what the implications it would bring if brought forward.

In the attic apartment Elena nervously undid her coat and tossed it on the bed.

"Elena"- Elijah said concerned as he walked in after her.

She looked at him worried.

"I don't like her being here!"- Elena said- "with all that happened last time- I mean-I know we brought her back-but-huh!!! "

"Lia needs Esther for the ritual!"- Elijah said seriously.

Elena could see the transformation in Elijah. He seemed to have closed himself off again.

"Demons and darkness"- Elena thought. She sighed.

He now turned away from the window-

"You will have to be stronger than you have ever been!"- he said to her.

"Why are you saying this!?"

"I just got a message from Niklaus! He knows what we are up to!"

Elena felt like the blood in her veins froze. They were both quiet for a moment.

"What now?"- Elena uttered.

"Well-we still have a powerful witch on our side...she must come up with something."

And, indeed it was so. Lia called them to the library not long after. She told them what had happened, and that now they were in a dangerous limbo. But the very resourceful witch had a solution.

"We know now the cause of the mutation"-Lia said- "but that is the least of my worries. We have lost a witch that was necessary to complete the ritual to close the circle to end the hybrid gene. But we are looking for a witch that is born with the mark of Earth so we can complete the ritual when the time comes. Now to more pressing matters- before the first dark red 'blood moon' appears we have to complete the Sun and the Moon conjunction ritual, so we have two that can fight against the hybrids holding the same powers as once the witch-slayers had.

The scrolls say that Elena is the bearer of the Sun and you Elijah the Moon."

What does that mean?"- Elena inquired.

"You are speeding thing up!? Would you care to explain?!" - Elijah looked at her poignantly.

"Because the Tetrad is about to set in and it gives the hybrids great power-when the sun, the moon and Mars are aligned -they create a passage of six full moons. You know what full moons enable the werewolf to do. You will be able to fight them when they are either vampire or werewolf. You two drawing power from the doppelganger and vampire will have equal power against them. Although you are an Original you are still so much weaker than you brother, or isn't it so?! This conjuction will enable Elena and you to be as strong as a hybrid, and she will not anymore be merely a human."

"Will I become a vampire?"- Elena then asked.

"No. You will still remain human, but you will be Immortal nevertheless, as you will become the reincarnation of the sidhe-spirit, the first, Zana, from whom the first vampires were created."

"That is not what you were suggesting earlier?"- Elijah wanted to know.

"No. I received some more disturbing news, namely, the hybrids have made covenant with witches and warlocks who practice dark magic- and that your brother is meeting them!"

"What proof do you have?"- Elijah said.

"This" and Lia put her hand on Elijah's forehead and what Feride had teleported to Lia she now did to him. It showed Klaus with the mutated hybrid called Julius.

As she finished Elijah moved away from her as if stung by a wasp.

"Elijah"- Elena said as she saw that his facial expression got darker. All he told Elena before the ritual in Mystic Falls now was coming to be.

"I couldn't kill him-he is my brother!"- the Original muttered.

"I know!"- Lia sympathized with him- "but you knew what would come to pass!"

"Yes"- he said faintly- "if I agree to all this-we still have a deal-you turn him into human!"- he demanded.

"I can sign it in my own blood if you want!"- Lia said coolly.

Elena's mind was racing now. She felt exactly the same as the day when she found out Klaus had arrived in Mystic Falls and the only clear thing was to undagger Elijah.

"I am willing to do it!"- Elena said resolved- "I want to fight them."

Elena looked Elijah wanting him to declare the same.

He knew that she wouldn't take anything less than a straight answer.

"We do this!"- Elijah said looking at Elena and then at Lia.

"I will make the preparations. We need to depart for Cluj-Napoca as soon as possible!"

"And Esther?"

"She remains here. She will be safe!"- Lia confirmed.

Not long after, the trio made their way to Transylvania.

*****************

Elsewhere

Klaus sat down with Julius, who was the leader of the twelve hybrid packs.

"I know that you have stolen the precious doppelganger blood bags!"- Klaus said calmly, but the blood in him was boiling.

"Unlike you, we only need now a few drops for the werewolf to change into the hybrid thanks to my mother, the hybrid witch!"

"Your mother?"- Klaus asked.

"Yes. she is a hybrid and yet she kept all her witchcraft-"- Julius said.

Klaus was quiet. He was there to collect information, and didn't like what he was hearing.

"I am listening"- Klaus said cleverly playing the game of someone who had thousand years of cunningness.

"I hear that the doppelganger has escaped!" - Julius remarked.

"She is with my brother! We are out of blood bags, aren't we?! Guess what - I don't negotiate with thieves!"- and Klaus vamped out, attacking Julius who fought back with the same strength that Klaus had. Everyone present watched how the two bit one another and charged at each other over and over again as rabid dogs.

"Enough!"- the witch waved and the magic separate them. They parted for a moment and stood still, not changing back into the human form just yet.

"Yes, he stole from you, as I have instructed him so. You don't negotiate with an Original. And we needed the blood to work the spell. I apologize, but it is in our best interest! You may think that your brother is on your side- but we know of his alliance with witches who try to kill all hybrids even you!"

"You think that I don't know that the witches are on my case. I have killed one of them! And as for your information. I have received fresh blood bags. You see, we are a close family, and my brother is only keeping the doppelganger safe from the likes of you!"

"Calm down. This is exactly what they want- to divide and make us weak!"- Julius now said.

"My son is right. Join us, Niklaus Mikaelson, and our power will be infinite!"- the witch said.

Klaus retreated to reconsider the offer. He didn't like what he had heard and that there was now a witch that was also a hybrid werewolf/vampire. He didn't believe it could ever happen.

**********

Cluj-Napoca, Romania

Elena, Elijah and Lia arrived in the north-western city of Cluj- Napoca, Transylvania, sometime before midnight.

Lia told Elena a bit more about the history of Dacians. Elena wanted to know more about Zana, whose spirit she would be assuming in the ritual that was about to take place the following night.

"She was the spirit of nature, which you are too, because you are the doppelganger-you will know once it is done, as you are a reincarnation as well."- Lia said.

When they arrived in the apartments Lia had organized for them, Elijah asked to see the text in the scrolls that talks about them.

Elena made herself comfortable in one of the bedrooms. She took a shower, needing time to herself. He heart felt like it separated into million pieces. She felt she grew more mature in the past few months. Curiously, she felt a strange calm envelope her.

As she got dressed, she decided not to join Elijah and the witch in the lounge. She laid down on the bed. Her thoughts were with her friends and her brother, and the life that now was so far away. At one point she fell asleep.

When Elijah got in, Elena woke up. He sat on the bed next to her. She could see in his look that he was still very worried. She sat up.

"We will be bonded for all eternity."- the Original then said.

"I know. I understood all what Lia was saying. Sometimes it feels like I dreamed this moment- all of this. Like I have always known but it wasn't clear, now it kind of is-I used to lay down in my bed in Mystic Falls and thought about the future, and- I dreamed of this guy, wondering who he was, where he was. In my heart -you know when it all fits and you know it but you can't understand how that is. Where you go, I go. It's so clear to me. Give me your hand" - Elena said.

He put her hand out to her and she took it.

"I love you. And I know now that it was always you!"

"I love you so- more. I never could have imagined how real love can be!"- he uttered- then looked deep into her eyes, which responded with warmth and love, he then said -

"I would be honoured if you would enter into this as my betrothed?!"

"Yes."- Elena nodded smiling a little- and then embraced him dearly.

In the apartment next door Lia wrote a message to her fellow witch Feride.

*************

At the same time in Germany, Feride opened the door of her flat to a woman in her thirties, who introduced herself as Adelheid Friedrich. She showed the witch the mark of caduceus and Feride smiled relieved that she found a fellow reincarnated witch. She invited her in and the two women commenced exchanging all that is to do with the strange occurrences that were taking place.

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#Elijah Mikaelson #Elena Gilbert #Elejah #tvdfanfic #Fanfiction #Klaus Mikaelson

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