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sconnie-doesnt-know · 4 years

Text

So Wrong

Characters: Lee Bodecker, Reader, Jane Bodecker, assorted OCs, also gonna go ahead and say Lee is kinda soft/dark in this one

Word Count: 8000

Warnings: Infidelity, alcohol usage, smoking, somewhat dub-con sexual stuff, but not really

Summary: The Reader is a young single mother and widow new to the town of Meade. She gets drawn into a social circle that includes the Sheriff’s wife, while also being drawn to the Sheriff himself.

A/n: I truly don’t know where this came from or why I wrote it. I watched TDATT and suddenly this whole thing just popped into my head complete with a Patsy Cline soundtrack. There’s infidelity on Lee’s part, and his wife is terrible, and these are fictional characters so I am trying to not feel guilty for making that happen.

There’s more to this story, probably extending into 1 or 2 more parts. I don’t know what to say for myself, I cannot pwp. Feedback and constructive criticism are welcome. Not beta-read, so please let me know if there’s an error.

Hope you enjoy!

Meade is as good a place as any to settle. Surrounded by wilderness and small towns, it’s quiet, far from anyplace and anyone you know. A welcome adventure and a place to dispose of your grief, finally - hopefully.

You pull up on a quiet street and sit there just a moment to breathe, to look at the life you had that is settled in between the few boxes and suitcases of belongings, the folded up flag, and the little boy you buckled into the seat.

Through a tangled web of connections, you are able to rent a little upper duplex apartment from the widow in town. She claims she doesn’t mind a little noise as your son stomps up the stairs and gives you an open invitation to join her at church on Sundays.

It is six days into your new residence, the first Monday in town when the apparent welcoming committee shows up at your door. She wears a gentle smile on her face and presents you with a warm pie still wrapped in cloth.

“My name is Jane Bodecker, my husband’s the Sheriff. I wanted to introduce myself…”

You know the routine after moving around a few times already. You imagine the conspiring during the luncheon after church yesterday, the ladies munching on dry cookies and deciding who would be the first to talk to you.

You nod and smile, and accept the offering.

“Some of us like to get together to play cards and socialize on Tuesdays, it would be nice to have you join us and let us get to know you.”

Of course she means that they are chomping at the bit to know why a single woman with no family ties has moved into town. You’re familiar with the ritual and know you need to go along if you want to make it work in this place.

You return her smile, “That would be so kind of you, as long as you don’t mind my son coming along.” You gesture to the little boy hiding in your skirts behind you.

“Of course he can. He can play with my boy, Robert. We will see you at two.” She leaves you with her address and directions over, telling you to look for the house with the red shutters.

Their house is in one of the newer, more developed parts, with some manufactured homes lining the street and looking boxy compared to the traditional farmhouses, but it's charming. The red shutters stand out, that’s for certain. It doesn’t take long to figure out that Jane is a proud host, head of the gossip chain, and is required to mention “My husband, the Sheriff” at least once per conversation.

You let the ladies ask their questions and nod politely as they give you the required chorus of condolences. You feel the shift when Jane steers the conversation to what they all want to know. “Now, I don’t mean to spread gossip, but some folks were wondering why you rented a place here instead of goin’ home to your family.”

Your shoulders stiffen, ‘so much for not putting me on the spot’ you think, but you still smile politely as you answer. “I have no other family. My daddy was gone when I was a girl and my momma dropped me off with an aunt and uncle when she was with husband number three and I don’t know where she is. They said it was the first thing she did that made a lick of sense,” you try to joke. “Well, they didn’t exactly approve of me and Jimmy, so when we married they told me not to go back.”

“And the boy’s other kin?”

“Ain’t no other kin. Jimmy’s family was small, they’re gone now.”

“Well, ain’t you a tragedy,” she says in a chirpy, high voice.

Your face tightens and you stare at your lap, “We get by,” you weakly mutter.

They all assure you that they have some nice gentlemen they can introduce to you, and go on about how fortunate you are they are pulling you into their group. You hear about faceless people and their minor transgressions, but get bored with it fairly quickly and use the time to look over the Bodecker home. It’s nice, a mixture of modest and a few state-of -the-art updates. There’s more dust than you expect, the sofa cushions look worn down, with only a few photos on display. The sheriff’s face shrouded in shadows in the one you can see, but you figure their son must take after him since he doesn’t have the pinched look his mother seems to naturally have.

You don’t even meet ‘her husband, the Sheriff’ until your third Tuesday afternoon of cards at their home. Jane herself is practically giving a campaign speech since the election so close. You never paid a lot of attention to local politics, and you try to give her your attention, but when she starts to ramble on it’s just too much. You happen to look to the side to avoid rolling your eyes and catch just when he strolls in, as if on cue with the uniform all perfectly in place. He scans the group of women until he stops on you, eyes lighting up with interest.

Your own breath catches in your throat at the sight of him as he removes his hat and looks you over.

“Well,” he drawls, “You must be the sweet new thing that’s got all the fellas in town rioting.”

You have to look down, lest the embarrassment make you combust.

“Now, Lee,” Jane scolds, “That’s no way to say hello. Come over here and introduce yourself properly.” She guides him over, and you almost say it with her when she recites, “This is my husband, the Sheriff.”

“Apologies, miss. I know you aren’t trying to get them all riled. Janey told me ‘bout your husband. War is Hell, shame to be losing boys like that.”

He holds his hand out to shake yours, his hold firm and warm and you are hesitant to let go.

“I appreciate that, thank you, Sheriff. Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” he nods, eyes flicking over you one more time. “What are your plans in this lovely town of ours?”

“Oh. Well,” you freeze up for a moment, it’s the first time someone’s asked and you don’t have your answer prepared. “Well, I was thinking that I would get a job. We get by right now, but once my boy is in school, I would like something else to do.”

Jane jumps on your answer, “Let’s just see if we can’t find you a bachelor around here. Plenty of boys can use someone to take care of ‘em, but if you want a man who will be home on time, you stay away from any of the deputies. I can’t remember the last time Lee wasn’t busy with something or other from the county. I suppose that’s the life we’ve chosen though, isn’t it?”

Her voice sounds overly sweet, but you can sense the daggers in her words. It’s the way he reacts, shifting on his feet and rolling his jaw like he’s annoyed. Jane doesn’t even pay attention to anything but the cards in her hand. Some of the other ladies nod, but the sheriff just lowers his head before he pulls Jane to the side to talk to her quietly.

You track his movements, fascinated until you shake yourself out of it. It’s been years since you felt like that or even saw a man that caught your attention - not since Jimmy. It’s alarming, unnerving.

The wave of guilt that washes over you is more than you can handle.

“Please excuse me, but we must be going.” You get up without waiting for any response and practically yank your son right out of the house as Jane calls after you that she will see you again soon.

You brush off the incident after having some time to think, convinced that it is just because you were caught off guard, and try to go on as normally as you can.

Your days end up filled with social calls, running errands or helping your landlady, and keeping your son busy. He asks to play with the Bodecker boy nearly every day, but you try your best to keep your distance when you can, especially when she starts trying to arrange dates for you even when you politely decline.

You look at the other ladies sometimes and wonder how many of them are just tolerating her the way you do. There’s just something grating about the way her voice goes especially nasally when she has something not-very-Christian to say, or the way she talks so openly and obscenely about the apparent whorehouse in town. She doesn’t even seem the least bit shameful when she begins to complain about her sister-in-law and the trouble she gets up to despite her brother being the sheriff.

Sheriff Bodecker, on the other hand, is a bit more friendly than you anticipated, expecting him to be cold or rude, but usually he’s the one pushing his wife to extend a coffee or supper invitation your way and making small talk when you are still around when he gets home from work or if he catches you around town. Your own mind suspects that it’s maybe just a sense of civic duty to know his neighbors, but it’s nice to have company nonetheless.

Conversation with him comes easily. He talks with you about interesting news stories, about the boys, about some of the other towns, and even plans for the county. It’s interesting, not just debate on whether the new curtains chosen by someone or other are tacky. There are times you get lost talking with him and need to be corralled back in by Jane or Steven getting antsy.

The way he draws your eye is a mixture of curiosity and interest. It makes you notice when he’s driving the patrol car or when you see him around town. You catch how tired he seems at the end of the days, how he’s usually got a piece of candy to slip to kids when they come by and are brave enough to ask. You notice how he knows everyone in town and seems to have an eye on everything, checking in at the shops and breaking up the young men when they start to roughhouse.

In a place like this, Jane Bodecker is far from the only gossiper in town, so while she might not share much about herself or her husband, plenty of others do. Some of the things they say are just nitpicking and you try to drown it out. They’ve been decent to you since your arrival, but it’s hard to ignore the constant whispers of how power went right to their heads.

When the election is over and she gets the right to continue to say “My husband, the Sheriff” you start to really see what they say. She loses the facade of playing the good wife, but still hosts her weekly card meetings to keep up to date. Instead of just coffee and tea, she starts slipping sips of whiskey and gives her opinion a bit more freely than before, and often hurling insults anywhere they can land.

It’s painful to watch her put down everyone, but especially the sheriff when he gets in her way. When you catch him sending a frustrated look at her turned back or rolling his eyes at her complaints about the town and its people, you pretend not to notice and remember to keep a smile on. Her outbursts get more and more unhinged and brazen, and the defeat and exhaustion in his stance makes you ache. There’s a hurt you can’t vocalize without overstepping, but it eats at you, chips at your patience bit by bit.

When the sheriff pulls the cruiser over one day while you’re walking between stores to say hi and make some small talk, you’re pleased. He seems less worn down, it’s nice to see.

“Oh, Sheriff, you’ve got some good timing,” you reach into one of your shopping bags, pulling out a paper bag of hard candies you bought from the candy shop. “While doing the washing, I found a handful of wrappers. Turns out the boys were getting into your candy stash. Thought you might need a refill.”

You hand him the bag and the smile he gives you in return makes your chest tighten up and ache.

“Sweet things from a sweet thing, thank you darlin’.”

You bit down on your lips, desperate to not react to his flirtatious words. “It’s nothin’, Sheriff.”

“Not to me.”

You start to sway from foot to foot, looking down at the sidewalk with a hum and trying to come up with something else to say. Silence hangs in the air for a moment before his radio crackles with a call from the station. You take the opportunity to make your exit.

“I’ll be seeing you, Sheriff.”

He shoots a glare at the radio, but looks back at you with what you could only describe as longing. “Sure will, Sweets.” Usually something like that would sound condescending, but from him it sounds endearing. He winks and pulls the car away, talking to the dispatcher while he drives.

‘Sweets...sweet thing...darlin’’ his voice repeats over and over in your head, fingers trembling and clumsy with the rush they give you and the way your heart races.

You get nearly sick when you recognize the feelings you’re having. It’s like it was when you were first with Jimmy. When you couldn’t even look him in the eyes because you felt too overwhelmed by your feelings for him. When you flushed and overheated when he got close and said pretty things. When you used to hold onto his hand and promise yourself that you would care for him every day and prove your love to him.

That’s when you realize you’re coveting another woman’s husband.

It’s Thursday, which means you need to head down to Main Street to visit the pharmacy for your landlady, Mrs. Martins, and gather some groceries for the week. You had made plans with Jane to let the boys play together while you took ran errands. You don’t have a good excuse to change the plan, but you can’t help but ask again, “You sure you don’t mind him being here?”

“Not at all,” she smiles, a bit wider and more manic than usual, “Now if that handsome Wilford boy happens to ask you for supper, don’t you worry about rushin’ back, ya hear?”

You laugh at her latest unsubtle attempt, “I will keep it in mind, thanks.” She and a few others had started to meddle, putting eligible bachelors in your path and setting up dates on your behalf. You do try. You talk to them, let them flirt, but none hold your interest. They’re boys - lanky and lean, still all reckless and rowdy. Not what you’re looking for, nothing like the solid, filled-out figure of a man, someone secure and stable and in a uniform. But that’s something to think about another day.

Wilford does indeed ask.

You do not feel so inclined to take up the offer, especially when he pinches the round of your ass as he asks you to consider dessert before any supper.

He has you pressed against the wall outside the hardware store, letting the sun blind you and bring tears to your eyes as the bricks snag the delicate threads of your dress.

He only backs away when a loud voice booms out, “There a problem here, son?”

He turns his head to find Lee pulled to the side of the road, window down and arm resting on the frame, his jaw clenched and eyes narrowed.

“No sir, Sheriff, just makin’ some supper plans, ain’t we?” Wilford looks back at you with a leer. Your hands press flat against the building and your knee twitches with the urge to jerk up and hurt him.

“I thought we were expecting you tonight, isn’t that right?” Lee asks you pointedly.

Your attacker looks back at Lee, then to you, and you nod. Finally, you’re given some space.

“I imagine you need to be moving along then?” Lee checks, waiting impatiently for Wilford to answer.

“Yessir.” He gives you a wicked grin and spins away to go back down the street. “Maybe another time when you’re free.”

You shake your head, eyes narrowed at his back as you glare.

Lee taps the side of the cruiser, “C’mere.”

You take a shaky breath and gather yourself with a nod before taking the few steps across the sidewalk. Leaning down you take a moment to look him over in his uniform, the badge gleaming in the sunshine and eyes clear blue as the sky.

“You alright, Sweets?” he asks, voice low and gentle. He’d taken to calling you that since the candy incident, always in that same tone - like it’s precious and important. The way it hits you right in the center of your chest hurts more than the physical damage done a moment ago. You know he isn’t asking if your heart is aching, or if you’re alright being lonely, or any of the ways you’re feeling it right now, but it strikes you in an unexpected way.

“I’m fine,” you smile tightly, “Thank you for checking.”

“These boys just don’t know how to handle themselves when they see a pretty lady.” Your cheeks ache as you try to keep from beaming at the off-hand comment. “Ya know, I’m getting ready to head on home, you need a ride that way? I’m guessing your boy is stirrin’ up some shit with mine?” He turns and scans the road and sidewalk around you, fidgeting a bit as he asks.

“I still have to make another stop and my car is at the end of the block, but thank you.” You stand up.

“Well, I mean it, you and Steven stay for supper tonight, I’ll square it with Jane.”

“You don’t hav’ta do that-”

“No worries, darlin’.” He winks, taps his fingers on the shell of the door by the painted logo and waits until you nod in agreement. “See you soon, then.” And with a nod he pulls off the curb.

You watch the cruiser drive away, then look up and down the street, but no one else is there. You finally manage to draw in a full breath, and rush to get to the cool air of the pharmacy to ease the flush burning you from the inside out.

You make it back to the Bodecker’s before the sheriff, glad to have a few moments to smooth things over with Jane since she clearly had not expected you to turn down the date she arranged for you.

“He wasn’t too much of a handful, was he? I told him before I left that he better mind you today.”

She waves you off, sitting back down at the table with her abandoned cigarette in the tray and a small glass of brown liquor.

“Well, the boys’ll sleep tonight, that’s for sure. They’ve been running circles round the whole damn house.” She ashes the cigarette before taking another puff and settling against the backrest of the chair.

You take a moment to look over the kitchen, a pot is just about to boil over so you make your way to it. “Can I help you out with anything? Give you a moment to freshen up ‘fore Lee gets home?”

“I suppose that’s the least you can do.” Her cheeks draw in another puff and she hums, taking her glass with her as she goes to their bedroom.

The boys run inside, breathless and sweaty, both shouting while they tell you about a nest they found outside before you order them off to get washed up themselves. You look down the hall, waiting to see if Jane was on her way back or if she was expecting you to finish her cooking. Rather than let it burn, you do just that, taking care of the potatoes, adding a few seasonings as you go, and pulling out the meatloaf from the oven.

The screen door squeaks and boots thud through the house when Lee enters and makes his way to the kitchen. You nervously look over your shoulder, catching him leaning against the door jamb, spinning his hat in his hand, a soft smile on his lips as he looks your way.

“This is a sight. If I didn’t know better I’d think I wandered into the wrong house.”

You let out a bit of a nervous laugh, then look back down to the greens you were tending to, “I am so sorry, I kept your wife busy longer than I should’ve. She’ll be out in just a minute.” You go back to busying yourself with finishing up the meal.

“Not complainin’,” he mutters under his breath, but you still hear it and it makes your breath hitch. Jane could set you on edge with her snide remarks, so could Lee, but for completely different reasons - some that had been dormant for so long you didn’t know what to do.

Just then Jane makes her grand reappearance, hair freshly combed and lips tinged with a touch of color; her cheeks look ruddy, but you can’t tell if it’s rouge or flush from the alcohol she’s been sipping.

“Don’t you go adding too much milk to my potatoes, nobody likes ‘em all runny. Here, let me,” she says and nudges you out of the way, “See you gotta mix in just a little bit right there.”

She overpours anyway, her hands moving unsteadily as she mashes the potatoes up, making them runny just like she warned you about.

From behind you, you see Lee go to the table, picking up the liquor bottle and examining the contents, making marks with his fingers against the side of the bottle and shaking his head. He takes a swig himself and sets it back down.

He mumbles something about being sober, then walks down the hall to where Jane disappeared, stopping to say something to make the boys giggle on the way before they wrestle each other at the bathroom sink to wash up for supper.

The meal starts off quiet, just the utensils scraping along the plates, but Jane being the gracious host, finally tries to perk it up with conversation.

“I know Wilford might be a little rough ‘round the edges for someone from a bigger town, but there are still several other young men I can introduce you to,” she offers, unprompted.

You choke a little before you recover and finish chewing your bite of food.

“You needn’t go through the trouble, Mrs. Bodecker. Really.”

“It’s just, you’re so young to be widowed already and all alone. What kinda home will it be for the boy with no man around? And don’t you want more kids? I bet you just glow. Some of the ladies at my bible study wouldn’t mind setting you up.”

The idea makes you squirm. No, you aren’t dead inside, but there’s no way for you to get what - who you really want.

The sheriff speaks up then. “My old man took off on my ma, sister, and me. That’s just the way shit happens sometimes,” he says and you feel the dark cloud start to clear just a bit. You nod at him, acknowledging the little bit of affirmation.

“What was your husband like?” Jane presses, digging a little further into that painful wound. “Maybe that will help me out.”

Your Jimmy didn’t have much to give you, but he gave you all he could. He gave you the kind of love that made your cheeks hurt from smiling, and your stomach swoop with butterflies. Your eyes flick toward Lee and you think again about how alike they seem to you, handsome, intuitive, assertive, strong-willed. He catches your gaze and pauses his chewing for a brief second while he waits for your answer.

“He was a good man, strong and fair. I’d like to think he and Mr. Bodecker would’ve gotten on quite well,” you finally say, smiling kindly at them both in turn.

Lee’s lips curl into a smile while he finishes chewing, then sits back with a stretch. “You’re makin’ me sound like an old man,” he whines, “Call me Lee when I’m not on duty.”

“Yes sir,” you automatically reply. “Lee.”

His smile grows. “Say, Janey? Why don’t you go get that jug of wine up for us?”

She nods and gets up.

“Wine?” you ask, surprised.

“It’s nothin’ special, someone up the road makes it. Tastes better than that church wine, but don’t burn like the shine some other folks are brewin’ up.”

Jane comes back with three glasses and pours generously for you all, her own motions increasingly sloppy from her afternoon drinking.

You sip at it, the taste a little tart, but not as acidic and thank them for their generosity.

“Jane, you do something different with the seasoning tonight?”

“No,” she answers, then goes right back to her chat with you, you think about speaking up, but she goes back to leading the conversation. “So, you still thinking about becoming a working gal?”

“Not right away, but yes.”

“Oh?” Lee asks, “Something at the diner? I think the grocery is hiring?”

“Nuh uh,” her voice takes on a nasty tone, “Nothing like that for her. She went to secretary school.” The lilt in her voice makes it clear that she doesn’t care for that little fact. “Can you believe that? School just to learn to file a paper or take a message.”

“There’s more to it than that,” you quietly defend.

“Jane, what the hell do you know? You haven’t worked a day in your life?” Lee asks.

Jane rolls her eyes, body slumping a bit in her chair. “Well, whatever you do, just make sure you don’t go working at the Tecumsah.” She snorts into her glass as she takes a sip. “That’s where Lee’s sister works. I told you ‘bout her before.” She gives you a look. “That place is a den of sin, if you know what I am gettin’ at.”

“You’re are gonna spoil my appetite talkin’ like that,” he says. He drops his fork and you startle, his glare at his wife making clear this is another sore subject.

“Wouldn’t be the worst thing,” she mutters. “I’m gettin’ tired of mending the buttons on your clothes.”

Your jaw nearly drops. You wring your napkin on your lap and scramble for something to change the subject and break the tension, “Jane, there are such lovely flowers planted right by the library, is there a gardening club around here that you haven’t told me about?”

She’s bored by the topic, but it does enough to distract her and send her on a tangent. You nod and hum while you pick at your food. Occasionally you glance to Lee at the side and find him looking at you appreciatively.

You keep turning the conversation away from yourself, getting her to talk about anything you can as she keeps refilling and sipping down more of her wine.

You use the next lull in conversation to make your exit.

“This has been lovely, and I am so thankful for everything today, but we really oughtta get back home. I need to make sure Mrs. Martins gets her items from the pharmacist and I need to try to fix the old projector she’s given me.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Lee asks, leaning forward.

“No idea,” you laugh. “I was hoping to puzzle it together.”

“I can take a look for you,” he offers.

“If you have a moment,” you turn to Jane, “And you don’t mind sparing him.”

She scoffs and waves her fingers, “Nah, take Robert with you.”

He grunts in response while the kids leap up, excited for more time together. You do what you can to clean up and ease the load for Jane, but she’s getting more irritable by the minute, so you shuffle to the door to leave.

You head to the driveway where your car’s parked, waiting for him outside while the boys chase each other around the cars. He steps out the door, swinging his key ring on his fingers, looking at ease without the uniform on, but still strutting with an air of authority. It makes your stomach swoop.

“The Martins place? What road is that on again?” he asks jarring you out of your staring.

“Just follow me, Sheriff. I mean - Lee,” You nod as you get into the driver’s seat, Steven climbing in on the other side.

“Don’t mind if I do.” He mutters it loud enough that you hear him. The tilted, teasing grin on his face as he climbs into his own car almost makes you certain it was his intention.

When you get out, there’s a lump in your throat and the air suddenly feels heavy. Thankfully, the short walk up your drive is quiet, the sheriff walking leisurely next to you and laughing at the boys as they race each other down the sidewalk.

“I gotta go in the back way,” you swallow thickly as you tell him while you open up the gate, “There’s a private staircase for us there.”

He nods and follows.

When you enter the small apartment, you’re grateful that you don’t have much to fuss over and that it is tidy by default.

“Why don’t you boys go play with the Lincoln Logs or race cars? Nothing too loud right now,” you suggest and push them off toward the small room Steven occupies. “I got the parts all together right here, but I think something is missing.” You point to the box with the projector parts and reels.

“No problem,” Lee’s voice is quiet in your small space. He takes out the parts and starts to fit things together, checking a few switches here and there after a couple of minutes before patting the top of it with a, “There you go.”

You smile widely, “That’s it? Really?”

“That’s it, Sweets,” he matches your smile.

You suddenly hate the idea of him leaving so quickly, so you look around for something else.

“Coffee?”

He nods. “It’s like you read my mind,” there’s a glint in his eye as he gives you a generous once-over.

You feel a flush and quickly turn away to the kitchen.

Your hands tremble as you fill the kettle with water and scoop grounds into the press.

The boys break into a fit of giggles and before you can call after them, you feel the warm presence of Lee shuffle up behind you. His boots scuff against the floor as he stops, then seconds later his arms cage you in from behind, his palms resting against the edge of the countertop.

His breaths are deep, his nose just tickling along the neckline of your dress and you feel your back stiffen at the rush.

“You’re so lovely Sweets,” he whispers.

Your breath shakes as you suck it in. “S-sheriff,” you swallow thickly, “Lee? What’re you doing?”

“You’re beautiful, y’know.”

You remain still, unable to whisper anything but his name again.

“I see the way you look at me,” he presses a kiss to your skin that’s so gentle and tender but nearly makes your knees buckle. “Like you want somethin’.”

“I’m not - I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you weakly deny.

One arm leaves the counter to wrap around your middle, pulling you even closer to him while he steps right up behind you, the whole front of him up against your back. The movement makes you gasp and arch just slightly. You’re unable to catch yourself from rolling your head back to lean against him fully and feeling him grunt.

“You don’t need to make any excuses. You want me, dontcha?” he talks with his lips pressed right against your neck, heavy breaths tickling at your hairline.

God, do you want him. The sudden feeling of a warm, masculine body against you is something you didn’t realize you missed so much. For years it’s just been you and your boy and focusing on the day to day, not thinking about the way a strong arm feels pulled around you with fingers just tickling at your sensitive skin - until suddenly that’s exactly what is happening. And how you’ve missed it, your muscles nearly seize up with tension as you try to fight how good it feels.

It’s like trying to drag yourself from a dream, slow and muted as you try to make sense of everything at once; a sharp clarity punches through hard and fast.

“Your wife,” you reach down to cover his hand with your own, ready to try to pry him off.

“That fucking pig? I don’t love her, I don’t want her. She don’t want me either.”

“Don’t say that. You can’t say that,” you tell him and start to pull away, squirming away but getting nowhere since he doesn’t budge an inch. He allows you to spin around between himself and the countertop. “Lee? What is this? What’re you doing?”

It’s a stupid question. You know what this is. You can remember moments like these with your late husband, but Lee is not your husband. You know his wife. You just spent the evening with her in their home.

He doesn’t answer. Instead his free hand starts to skim up along your side until his thumb catches at the curve at the bottom your breast, then slides up so that he can rub his thumb back and forth over your dress, teasing at your hardened nipple.

It makes you whimper and nearly fold in half with how sensitive you feel.

“I’ll make you feel so good,” he coos, his lips parted and eyes tracking the movement of his thumb.

You lift your arms to his shoulders, uncertain yet if you’re planning to push him away or pull him close when you hear the quick footsteps of the boys.

Lee steps back to give you some distance and your hands flutter mid-air as you try to compose yourself.

The boys start to whine over each other-

“Momma. Robert keeps knocking over my building.”

“No, he keeps takin’ the blocks I’m using.”

Some kind of clarity forms and you rush out a solution for them, “Why don’t you get out your TinkerToys and split it all up? Alright? Go back to the other room,” you nudge them away.

Problem solved, they run back to the room, leaving you standing in the kitchen, Lee lingering just feet away and the half-finished coffee press on the counter.

“Jane must be expecting you home by now.”

He grunts and shakes his head ruefully, “She’s probably passed out by now.”

“Oh,” you nod. You search for something, anything to excuse yourself and catch your breath, “I need to go to the bathroom. Excuse me a moment.”

You slip out of the kitchen and into the door just down the hall. Taking a moment to relieve yourself then press a cool rag to your cheeks. You’d nursed the glass of wine Jane had poured, so you knew deep down you weren’t tipsy, you were just overrun by the feelings the sheriff gave you. Once you get your first full breath in minutes, you feel better, calmer and more controlled. You look at yourself in the mirror and decide - you just need to send him on home.

You barely crack open the bathroom door when it’s pushed open wide, Lee wedging in when it’s wide enough and nearly slamming it shut behind him.

“Don’t hide from me, Sweets,” is all he says before he’s got one arm around your middle again, and the other holding the back of your neck while he presses his lips against yours. After gasping in surprise, you instinctively return the kiss - your tongue and lips tentative against his dominating mouth.

It’s strange - all of it so strange after so long. It’s been years since your last kiss and you feel clumsy, out of practice, but he doesn’t hesitate one bit, doesn’t seem turned off by your uncoordinated motions and hands that can’t keep still over his middle and shoulders.

He takes in a deep breath, pausing for just a second to position himself better, then he’s back on you, and you feel ready for him this time. One hand resting on his chest while the other hooks up around his neck, your fingers stroking through the soft, short hairs at the back of his head. He turns the both of you, pressing you against the vanity sink.

“Lee,” you whimper when he wedges a leg between yours.

“Shh, shh, sshh. I got you.”

His kisses are relentless and make you light-headed, gasping for breaths every time he slightly lets up. His hands push and pull, struggling against your dress and your undergarments until he’s freed one breast and can drop his head to suckle at your hard peak.

Your mouth falls open in a silent cry, mind painfully aware of the children in the room nearby. You crack open an eye to make sure the door is still closed and try to focus on the sounds the kids are making, but his tongue and lips are too distracting. He pulls as much of your breast into his mouth as he can, greedily swirling his tongue all over the sensitive bud, and pulling away with a loud pop.

You slap at his shoulder while he just looks up at you with a shit-eating grin.

“Feels good, right?” He places his hand to cup your breast, thumb flicking at your nipple. “Let me have you, I’ll make you feel so good, my sweet girl. Please?”

His own eyes close as he ruts up against you, his hard length pressing against your hip and sending a tremor through your body, practically shaking your bones. You don’t move though, your hands stay frozen where you hold onto him, but he continues to lead and coax you along.

One wide hand holds you at the back of your neck, just holding you in place. His mouth moves across your cheeks and at the hinge of your jaw. He whispers quiet promises of satisfaction, telling you how lovely you are and confirming every word with a kiss. His other hand leaves your breast after one final and quick pinch and grabs at the bottom of your dress. The fabric bunching in his fist as he gathers it until he can feel your thigh.

Then he teases you with just the tips of his fingers, sliding right up and over til he meets where your thighs meet. It tickles, makes you shake a little, and then you’re sucking in a hard gasp when he keeps going until he pets and presses over your sex with the pads of his fingertips.

“So wet,” he says on an exhale, pressing right where you feel your excitement leaking. “You want me too. It’s alright.”

To prove his point, he presses harder, flattening his hand until he’s cupping you and making your body jerk between him and the sink. You bend your knees to open your thighs wider with the touch, and he groans and presses hard against you again, the heel of his palm putting pressure to your throbbing clit. You struggle to not hook your leg right over his hip to let him in.

“Lee,” you start to beg, “Please. Oh my god, please.”

It’s so overwhelming you start to sob, the tears already prick at the corners of your eyes. Just being touched, feeling the warmth of him, and the words - it’s all that you remembered being with a man to be and more. His hand keeps a rhythm against you, driving you higher. You hadn’t had a man’s touch in years, but suddenly you need Lee like you need air.

“Please,” you say again. Your body tingles with electricity that has nowhere to go.

“So pretty. You’re so pretty, baby. I’m gonna take care of ya. Am I what you need?”

“Yes,” tears start to roll down your cheeks. He pulls back slightly until he can slip his fingers underneath your panties, gliding right through your arousal. You feel two of his fingers slide into you, and you squeeze around them instantly.

“Fuck,” he grunts. Your wetness drips down his fingers into his palm. He presses the heel of it against you again, right against your sensitive clit this time. “Come on my fingers, sweetness.”

He fucks you with his hand, his thick, solid fingers caressing you while he sends jolts of pleasure through you with pressure on your sensitive button. You squirm to get away, but the hand still at the back of your neck tightens and holds you down, making you take it.

“It’s alright,” he whispers, “It’s alright.”

And that’s it. You freeze for a moment as the pleasure peaks and then you’re trembling as the shocks of it rush through you in a blaze. You can hear the wetness drowning his fingers as he keeps pumping them into you while you clench over him repeatedly and sob as quietly as you can, which must not be very quiet because he starts to shush you and slow the movement of his hand, gently attempting to calm you down.

“You’re okay, s’alright baby, just breathe, c’mon,” you hear him coach, but all you can focus on is the thumping beat of your heart as it races and trying to catch your breath between sniffles, the tears falling freely down your cheeks.

His hand slides out from your panties to grab you steady at your waist, the hand from your neck moves so he can use his thumb to wipe away your tears. He presses his forehead to yours and tells you to breathe with him.

You blink your eyes open, eyelashes glittering with wetness and you take a minute to focus. Once things are clear, you tilt your head back to look at him. His cheeks are flushed, lips wet and rosy, and his eyes - they nearly glow as he looks you over. It’s something to see - awe, tenderness, pride all in the twitches of his lips as his lips turn up with a smile.

“Sweets, will you touch me?” he asks. For such a big man, his voice is suddenly so small.

“Lee, I can’t-I haven’t…” you struggle to find the words.

“It’s alright, that’s alright,” he assures you, circling your wrist with his fingers still sticky from your arousal, and guiding them to the bulge in his trousers. You flinch, but don’t pull away, your arm tenses, but goes with the motion. He presses your palm against the solid length, pushing down to give him some relief. His hips press against you in return and once he’s sure you aren't going anywhere, he lets go of your wrist, then starts to undo the belt and button in quick movements. He tugs the waistband of his trousers and boxers down together, just to release his cock.

You feel the fabric move under your palm, but keep pressing against him, your hand sliding just slightly out of remembered instinct. When the fabric of his boxers slides away and you’re met with the heat of his cock, you gasp. Your hand wraps around him, fingers circling around his shaft to hold him and pulling a strangled moan from him.

“Shit-fuck,” he hisses. “Won’t be long.” He wraps his hand over yours, pulling your fist up and down over him while he pumps his hips into it. Precome drips down from the slit, easing the glide.

His eyes close and he presses his temple to yours, his face pulls up in concentration, focusing on the pleasure, “You’re so soft, so sweet,” he rasps, “Want you so bad, want you all to myself.”

You can imagine it, if you’re ready to be totally honest, you have imagined it.

“Kiss me?” you whisper.

His lips meet yours roughly for a long press, then he tilts his head and licks at the seam of your lips, making you open up to him. His hand and yours start to speed up, he keeps guiding you up and down, just the slightest twist at the head with each stroke.

The kiss turns sloppy, more sharing air and pecks than anything as he spirals with the pleasure you’re helping to give him.

“You’re gonna -you’re gonna make me-” with a pained expression, he nudges you away, his hand stroking frantically as he leans over your sink until he starts to come, streaks hitting the porcelain as he chokes down groans. You watch his neck and face go red, trying not to watch, but you can’t help yourself and catch the way his cock twitches with his release, all swollen and red. You don’t think you could possibly blush more, but still fire burns underneath your skin.

When he finishes coming, he reaches for you again, pulling you into another hard kiss. “God, darlin’. Fuck,” he whispers while he attempts to catch his breath. “Fuck. Haven’t been tugged off like that since I was a deputy.” He chuckles, the laugh coming out in hard puffs of air.

You struggle to look at anything in the bathroom, eyes straying back to Lee, to his softening cock, to the come dripping slowly in the sink basin. Just then you hear the boys start to giggle and reality hits you again, making your chest seize up in panic.

“Oh, Lee. No,” you raise a hand to your mouth and quickly rush out the door, piecing your wardrobe back together as you walk back into the kitchen. You hear the water run in the bathroom and murmuring as Lee talks to himself.

Your movement must have distracted the boys because they manage to sound like a stampede heading toward you. You wipe at your nose and eyes as best you can before you turn to see what they want.

Both the boys pause, but it’s your son that speaks up, knowing how you look when you cry. “Momma, you alright?”

Lee exits the bathroom then, shirt tucked back in, belt and trousers back in place - only the flush from the neck up giving anything away. His eyes bore into you with heavy emotion that you are ashamed that you can read so well - concern, sympathy, desire. A mixture that you remind yourself you don’t deserve.

“Yeah, baby. I am. You know I get sad sometimes, I’ll be fine. Are you boys ready to say goodbye for tonight? I think it’s well past your bedtime.”

You grab Steven and fuss with his hair, with his messy shirt, and then turn him around and hold him against you like a tiny human shield. “Say thank you to the sheriff for fixing the projector and for letting Robert play.”

“Thank you, sir,” your son dutifully responds.

Lee can see what you’re doing and he’s not happy with it, his mouth going flat and shoulders heaving as you pressure him into leaving.

He just nods, then nudges at Robert’s shoulder, “Say thank you for indulging us.”

“Thank you,” Robert quietly says.

You send Steven down the hallway to get ready for bed, and then you follow behind as they step toward the door, Robert too tired from a full day of play to put up a fight. Lee opens the door to the back steps, telling Robert to be careful going down. When the boy starts down a few, Lee turns back to you.

Before you can react, he’s giving you another kiss, quick but meaningful. “We’re not done,” he whispers.

“We are. Go home, Lee.”

He gives you a long look before stomping down the steps. “Til next time, Sweets.”

...

#lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker smut #lee bodecker angst #lee bodecker fanfiction #hoedecker club #hoedecker cult #tdatt fanfiction #my writing #fic title so wrong #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker x female reader

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lumilasi · 3 years

Photo

UPDATE: Decided to completely redo the shading today because I just honestly hated how this looked originally lmao. Also re-drew Avara because I didn’t like her portrait. This now looks infinitely better.

Some random facts of these ocs below:

Azul is not a dark mage himself technically, but knows a lot about the magic type. He is also a direct descendant of Amaros, and thus has access to the kind of magic he offers. Azul’s most typical thing to say is “So who fucked up now?” Because he’s basically the grumpy problem solver for his close ones. He has a little brother Reuben who is a fire elemental. Azul is the love interest of Diojas.

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Miriam Is a medium who lives with her childhood friend Maxwell, a wyvern she basically raised since finding his egg as a child. Miriam is one of Azul’s closest friends, and has the same vibe of “tired of your shit/will sip tea while silently judging you.”

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Jurou is the epitome of sassy flamboyant antagonist, who likes to taunt his opponents. He’s also a dad and despite being a “villain” he’s genuinely a good parent to Caelan. His Jorogumo mother’s spirit lives within his soul and sometimes comments on things happening around him.

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Amaros is the ancient king of a warrior Kingdom who performed a sacred ritual to turn himself into a Deity in order to protect his empire. He’s seen as a bit of a devious Deity, whose power can be both a gift and a horrible curse.True to his title his personality is a bit sinister and psychopathic, although he does take his position as a Deity and protector of his own citizens seriously, even though his kingdom was destroyed eons later and now the members of it wander across lands all over the place.

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Rayna is the epitome of relaxed playful big sister, who doesn’t take shit too seriously. Despite her goofy nature, she takes her job of protecting her kingdom’s weaker ruler (oc named Helias) very seriously, and is very skilled and strong fighter. She’s got a girlfriend who’s a librarian

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Caelan is the last member of a long lost clan with extremely powerful elemental storm powers. His vengeful ancestral spirits often try to possess him to extract their revenge, but his adoptive parent Jurou typically stops them from causing too much harm needlessly. Caelan has feelings for Claude, but it’s also an awkward situation given Claude’s clan was the one who mostly destroyed the elemental one century ago. Calean mostly comes off kind and polite, but can react very extremely. (basically he has slight yandere vibes)

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Avara is an Astral sorceress, meaning her magic is themed around night-sky and stars. She has a non-blood related sister Lumi, who is very protective over her. Avara was almost forcibly married to a horrible man, whom Lumi helped her escape from. She’s another good friend of Azul and Miriam. She’s pretty flirty but rarely genuinely means it, usually doing it just to tease people.

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Claude is a surviving member of a telepath clan who caused their demise by being forced to do a ritual with his twin brother that went horribly wrong. His powers and mind are both kind of unstable now, and he works for Araknos who promised to find a way to fix him. He has feelings for Caelan, but is hyper aware of the bad blood between their clans.

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Diojas is the eldest child of the Vermonte family, and known for his dramatic temper and perfectionism. Despite his sometimes difficult personality, Diojas genuinely cares for his loved ones and their citizens, his perfectionism really just wanting to make sure everything works properly. He was also cursed as a baby unknowingly to his family, which partially resulted to his difficult personality. He’s Azul’s love interest.

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not-all-dead · 3 years

Text

angstpril day twenty: the silent treatment

CW: mentions of a breakup but that’s pretty much the worst of it

fic under the cut

November 3rd, 142

Lin,

Mom made me promise I’d write to you, so here’s me doing that. Grandma and Grandpa say hi, and they want you to visit soon. School’s boring as ever and I have no friends here which is just great. Thanks for that. At least they have good food here, the chef is pretty amazing. Still, I think I’m going to run away soon, just for the sake of it. Maybe I’ll find a family actually worth keeping. Anyway, I don’t miss you or mom, have fun arresting people or whatever.

February 7th, 143

Lin,

Heard you’re chief now. Congrats I guess. Does mom finally pay attention to you? Who am I kidding, of course she doesn’t. Anyway, I left Grandma and Grandpa’s. I’m part of this cool travelling circus right now, but I think I’m going to try something new soon. It’s been fun though, lots of flying through the air above lava pits and other super dangerous things. I bet I’m having a better time than you are, stuck in the stupid city.

I call Grandma every week or two to keep her updated on what I’m doing, otherwise she’ll freak out and think I’m dead or something. She told me today that mom called her yesterday. Mom said she was going to Gaoling to drop off her things before travelling wherever just like I’m doing. Guess I have more in common with her than I thought. I also guess that means you’ve got the apartment to yourself now, must be nice.

How’s Tenzin? You two still madly in love? Actually, don’t tell me, I don’t really care. Not that you’re going to respond to this at all. Whatever. I’ve got a performance to get to, so bye.

December 19th, 145

Lin,

I wish you’d write back. I’m much older now, and I’d be happy to talk things out with you if you’d respond. But I guess that’s something you have to want too, and clearly you still hate me, so I won’t count on it.

I know I haven’t written in a while. I was on a pirate ship for a while, learning to sail and such, and we didn’t dock often. Any paper we had on board was constantly damp, too, so I didn’t see the point. After that I live in a sandbender commune. It was really interesting to see how different people lived, especially different earthbenders. I tried learning to sandbend but it didn’t go so well.

But that’s all past now. I’m building a city now, a city entirely of metal. I’ve got this wonderful architect named Baatar helping me with it, and thank goodness I do. I honestly don’t know how I’d execute my plans without him. I think I might ask him to marry me. I mean, I really do like him, and the idea of a family sounds so nice. If I did I’d really like for you to be there.

I hope everything in the city is alright. Last time I spoke to mom, a couple years ago now, she said you were still going steady with Tenzin. I don’t know how you two have stayed together this long already, you always seemed so different from one another to me. I guess opposites really do attract, as they always say. I’ll write again soon.

April 2nd, 146

Lin,

It would mean the world to me if you could make it. Please come if you can, I’d really like to see you again.

March 27th, 147

Lin,

You have a nephew! I was bummed that you didn’t come to the wedding, but it’s alright. Maybe you’d like to come and meet Baatar Jr. sometime this year… we’d welcome you here in Zaofu if you did. We’re still working on building up the outer cities, but the central hub where our house is is fully operational. I’d love to show you how it all works, we have metalbender staff in training to operate practically every part of the city. It’s a busy time, with the new baby and all the construction.

Please tell me you and your airhead of a boyfriend are getting married soon. I mean, come on! It’s been ten years already, I don’t see how you can possibly still be “taking it slow”. You make no sense to me sometimes, Lin. But then again, I’m sure you feel the same about me.

Mom’s been visiting Zaofu pretty regularly. She’s coming in next week to meet Baatar Jr. for the first time. She still seems to be holding a grudge against me. You two really are cut from the same cloth, you know. I might try to talk things out with her when she comes this time, or at least set a time sometime soon for us to flush things over. It would be great if you’d come too so we could put all this family drama nonsense behind us.

May 30th, 150

Lin,

I’m disappointed that you still refuse to answer. Honestly, mom and I have spent two years talking and figuring things out. We’re good now, and there were plenty of opportunities we gave you to join us. I’m sorry you’re still so bitter.

Baatar Jr. is three now, you’d know if you ever cared to visit. He hasn’t shown any signs of bending yet, but Baatar is a non-bender and I started bending late so that’s not too surprising. We’ve got another one on the way, due in a couple weeks actually. I think if it’s a boy we’ll name him Huan, and if it’s a girl probably Hei-Ran. Again, I wish you’d come and actually be a part of my kids’ lives, but you seem dead set against it.

Kya actually dropped by not too long ago. I hadn’t seen her in ages, so it was a nice surprise. She says her travels have been going well, and she’d visited practically every place on the planet! I loved my time travelling, but ultimately family life is what suited me best. She said she was heading back to Republic City soon, so maybe she’ll drop in on you, too. Anyway, hope the triads aren’t causing too too much havoc for you, Chief.

January 16th, 151

Lin,

Look, I don’t know what your problem is, but I’ve given up. If you’re really that set on giving me the cold shoulder, so be it. I’ll stop writing at all.

Sorry you’re not mature enough to handle this like an adult.

If you were wondering, Huan is very healthy and strong. Baatar Jr. too. Baatar Sr. took ill a while back, but he’s alright now.

I don’t know why I’m telling you any of this when I know you don’t care. Well. Sorry I’m such a bother to you.

August 4th, 156

Lin,

Mom told me what happened with you and Tenzin. He’s an asshole, good on you for wrecking the island. You were always too good for him anyway. I know I haven’t written in a long time, I just didn’t see the point if you kept ignoring me. Maybe now you’ll come and see your family, it might be nice after losing Tenzin.

You’ve got a niece, now, too. And four nephews, the youngest being the twins. They’re only just over a year old now, and Opal recently turned three. I tell them stories about their Aunt Lin, you know. The older boys would really like to meet you, and I’m sure Opal and the twins will too when they’re a little bit more grown up. I want to see you again too, Lin, and I wish you’d at least try to let go of the past. Even just a letter back would make my day.

Hope you’re holding up as Chief there, not too much trouble with the triads or whomever else is committing crime these days.

November 7th, 158

Lin,

Baatar Jr. is now eleven, and seems to be quite the budding architect just like his father. Huan has taken up metalbending little sculptures, so for his eighth birthday he got a little studio just for his art. Opal is five now, and growing up fast. I’ve never seen a five year old read as well as she does. Wing and Wei are still just three, but they seem to enjoy throwing pebbles at one another. I think they’ll be strong benders when they're older.

Mom and I finally made up properly. It’s nice to see her with the kids. She said she wrote to you asking you to come and chat too, but you ignored her. No surprises there. I might stop writing again if you keep this up, so don’t act shocked.

October 21st, 160

Lin,

Mom’s here for a few weeks. Opal turned seven this year, Baatar Jr. thirteen, Huan ten, and the twins five. Wing and Wei invented a game for themselves to help with their metalbending training, they call it “power disk”.

I’m not sure what else to say to you anymore. I’m not sure why I’m even writing this now, after eighteen years. Eighteen years, Lin, and you haven’t even bothered to write back. At least I’ve tried to reach out. But now, I’m done. For real this time. Write if you want, I don’t care. I’m not going to keep sending these anymore.

December 6th, 170

Lin,

Are you alright?! Mom had to tell me about you losing your bending, and she only found out through Katara! I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like. All I can say is that it would undoubtedly be awful.

I miss you, you know. It’s been almost thirty years since we last spoke. I know mom misses you too, and my kids would really like to meet their Aunt. It makes me sad that you’re still so sour about what happened, even after so much time has passed. We’ve both grown and changed as people, and I don’t understand why you can’t see that. Maybe I’m wrong, maybe it’s only me who’s changed at all. Even so, I do miss you, and I wish you’d write. Or visit.

I hope you’re alright, Lin, I really do.

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demonslayedher · 3 years

Note

Any Kny character you've grown to love/appreciate more??

Thanks for waiting, Anon, I have been trying to really, really hard to narrow this down, but the answer remains: the vast majority of the cast. The only character I loved right away was Tanjiro and that love kept me watching, as with almost every new character I was like, "ugh, I hate this guy. Here I was, having fun being emotionally invested in a high quality anime, and this might ruin it for me." But then the instant I see a different side of their character, I'm like, "...Oh." To go into some examples...

Zenitsu: I could not stand him right away, I hate womanizers, and his conniptions would go on so long that they held up the story. But Gotouge/Ufotable strung me along perfectly, the first glimpse of Thunder Breath made me immediately pay attention and think, "oh, that was cool. I want to see more of that." Seeing him protect the box pretty firmly put him in the "I need to protect this child" box in my heart. And then the spider demon happens, and I'm sending desperate reaction messages to a friend like "NOOOOOO!!!! BABBBBBBBBBYYYYYYYY!!!!" And then he annoyed me all over again at the start of Functional Recovery, ahaha. It's hard to remember how annoyed I was because I'm such a Zen Stan now, and he was a very firm favorite of mine by the time I finished binging the anime up to the last couple episodes, which I waited for as they came out. Inosuke: He was one of the reasons I was curious about the series, I saw some promotional art and was super curious about Nezuko's muzzle (I was one of the people who thought it was some ancient scroll or something, haha) and the kid with the boar mask. The art I saw showed his face, and I assumed he'd be some kid with a cracking voice performed by a female seiyuu. As much as I love Matsuoka's performance now, initially, since I knew what his face looked like, I found it grossly off-putting the moment I heard it. Then every chaotic thing Inosuke did dug a deeper hole; I very quickly decided I hated him, especially when he started beating up on the kid I was starting to like. As his chaos subsided he just became a character I tolerated, and then this happened:

Images you can hear, am I right? This immediately flipped the "BABY" switch in my heart. It was also a lot of fun to understand the Inosuke memes I was seeing everywhere. So by the end of the anime, I loved, loved, loved, loved the Tanjiro/Zenitsu/Inosuke interactions and desperately wanted more (still didn't like how Zenitsu bothered Nezuko, though). I was so impatient for more, but the manga art looked disappointingly off-putting. I figured the anime was successful enough that there'd eventually be more of it, and I wanted to be patient, but then I poked around, read some spoilers, got back into Tumblr to look at fanart and memes, saw a spoiler image of Tanjiro affected by Muzan's poison and the binge-read began. (That's kind of a lie, but I'll get to that.) Let's back up a few episodes. There I was, having a great time, the guy who I forgot about from Episode 1 was back and haha, I guess everyone hates him, and the chick who I figured was going to be a medic who saves Zenitsu in the nick of time turned out to be savage, awesome. I was sending reactions to my friends who were ahead of me, and then we left off seeing the Pillars staring down Best Boy. And I...

Well. Uh. Here, I've dug up an old convo for you, my comments are in blue.

Immediately followed by a passionate vocal rant, which I have transcribed here:

“I feel like what happened was that the mangaka was sitting around with his assistants and was like, ‘welp, gotta make this whole cast of characters, they gotta be so-o-o-o many more levels of extreme than all the other characters I’ve had so far, which isn’t hard, because all of the background characters are cannon fodder and I’ve just gotta leave them all with black hair and no personality traits. So! Gotta go to the opposite of the spectrum with the BIG! POWERFUL! People so no-o-o-body can be normal.’ And so he and his assistants sat down, and they all wrote down just random words or traits, and them put ‘em all in a hat. And then for each character, they pulled out a few of them and said, ‘OK. We’re gonna put these things together, now we have a character.’ And he was probably also like, ‘Iiiiiiiiiiiii’ll flesh them out later. For now, they just need t’… be there, and make an impact. How do we make an impact? By making sure it’s super, super clear what their character traits are. Here, we’ll have this guy repeat the word //HADE//…. ////HA DEEE//// over and over and over… to show that he’s a /showy/ person. Because he /cares/ about that. And he //should// care because that is his character and that’s why he’s powerful.’ OH MY GOSH, it’s so dumb.”

......orz I feel like Genya looking back at how he acted at the end of the Final Selection. I'm sorry, Gotouge, I had not even encountered your love for these characters yet in your little alligator form. Nor had I encountered the yet unseen-sides of these traumatized dragons and tigers. ...*coughs* Um. So. I was pretty harsh.

So this was my mindset, I went into the manga not caring about most of these characters and just wanting more Kamaboko squad interactions and wanting to hurry up and catch up to the battle with Muzan. And it's worth stating that I didn't mean to read it at first. I encountered a few spoilers, and just wanted to look for the context surrounding those parts, and then hunt for the (non-existent) build-up to those parts, and so... uh.........

I read a lot of the manga out of order, and yeah, that did affect how much I cared about what was going on. I didn't actually properly process a lot of it until later re-reads. But to try to state some things simply about each Pillar:

Giyuu: He was just 'ok' to me for a long time, I could see the appeal for why people I knew were fangirling over him but he didn't do it for me. His soft spot for Tanjiro was indeed endearing, though, and I firmly liked him by the time chapter 200 came out and I was properly heartbroken on his behalf.

Shinobu: She was intriguing, and then I liked her as soon as I saw her savage side, she was one of the characters I went hunting for spoilers for.

Rengoku: That stare really put me off at first, but I fell for him over the process of Tanjiro falling for him. When I first finished the train arc I sat back and said, "wow! That's going to make for a good movie!" and then in psyching myself out for the movie several months in advance, I fell hook, line, and sinker and was totally excited for him each time I saw the trailers. And then the movie was *stunning* and I love him even more. Uzui: He was the Pillar I hated most upon first meeting them. I blame the repeated use of his catchphrase. But then when he let his hair down to sell the kiddos the change in design helped warm me up more to him, like, "oh, there was a human in there." It took a long time for him to become more interesting to me, and an uncharacteristically subtle journey to becoming a character I liked. I am currently getting more and more psyched out for him and eager to see how much more I'm going to like him with the shiny Ufotable treatment. Mitsuri: At first I didn't remember her name, I had code-named her as "Boobs." But I kinda had a feeling she was going to grow on me quickly, and I was right, she's one of my easy favorites now. Muichiro: Who? Oh yeah, that kid who always kinda fell to the wayside in my attention. I'd see a lot of Muichiro-themed blogs and hear a lot of little girls looking at merch and showing a clear favoritism of him, and I'd like always react like Muichiro and just be like, "...", and then when I read his major battles I was more emotionally invested in things going on concurrently with other characters, and I was still like, "...", and then two days ago I revisited a Muichiro scene and was suddenly like, "......OH!!! MUICHIRO!!!!!" Himejima: I never really hated Himejima, even if I found his first impression kind of wimpy (haha... oh, I was so wrong). I had a pretty easy acceptance of him too, so I would generally count him among characters I like, but if you were to ask me why, I'd draw a blank. It's kind of a weirdly mature, subdued appreciation for him rather than passionate fangirling. But weirdly when I was daydreaming the other day I found myself thinking, "if I had to marry someone in the KnY cast, it would be Himejima." So like, not a fiery romance, but I see him as my dependable, sturdy rock to grow old with??? What is up with you, sub-conscious?? Iguro: My interest in him rises and falls. Being a Mitsuri fan helped warm me up to his character in the first place, which was the emotional tie I needed since his backstory didn't grip me much (I found it a frustrating distraction while I was desperately reading weekly updates). Reading more subtle details about his character in the fanbooks has brought me around and made me more curious about him, like I'd really like to be a fly on the wall for the conversation he had with Uzui one day about their pasts.

Sanemi: Hahaha, wow. He was so unlikable in the beginning, wasn't he? His character design (yeah, the eyes) was really off-putting too. But then I got to know him and there was no going back, I got totally played. He's a character I'm pretty fond of now and one of the characters I've enjoyed delving into most in fanfic. To keep this answer from getting too long, for the vaaaaaast majority of the cast, I was initially like, "meh" or "OK" or "ew" but now am like, "EEEEEEEEE, I LOVE THIS TOTALLY RANDOM UNIMPORTANT SIDE CHARACTERRRRRRR" so you know... times change. And the more time I spend obsessed with Kimetsu no Yaiba, the more I like them all, so even the characters I'm lukewarm on will probably have their eventual days when they take over my heart and smash it.

#what do I even tag this?#it's not meta or nerdery #it's just me being a fangirl #Kimetsu no Yaiba #Demon Slayer

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nooneelsecomesclose17 · 3 years

Text

Go to the ends of the earth for you - Part 5

And it's finished. What was a oneshot redo of *that* episode turned into a series. Thank you for all the lovely comments and I hope the final part lives up to the rest.

(AO3 link)

The next morning he leaves Seb with Vic and heads up to the surgery. Robert’s meeting his Gran’s solicitor again so he hopefully won’t ever have to know about any of this . It feels like a lifetime since he lived here, since he felt he could turn to Paddy and know he’d always be there for him.

“Aaron. What are you doing here?” Belle’s smiling as he walks in and he nods.

“Paddy in?”

“He’s just finishing up with a patient but he’s got a few minutes after that.”

“That’s all I’ll need. You might want to get a coffee while we chat.” Belle raises her eyebrows but nods. It’s well known what’s happened between him and Paddy and Belle knows more than most having listened to him a lot while Robert was away and she’d been helping with Seb.

It’s not even five minutes before Paddy sees out a young woman with a yapping dog, stuttering when he sees Aaron waiting. Belle hands him a few messages before she all but bolts out of the door.

“Aaron…I didn’t…how are you?”

“I’d be a lot better if you’d keep your mouth shut about Robert.” He watches as Paddy struggles to find a response. “Don’t bother trying to deny it. I know you’ve been sounding off to all and sundry about him.”

“He’s bad for you Aaron, the sooner you see that the better. He’s turned you against your family, don’t you see that.”

“Oh not this again! Paddy, I married him twice! I went on the run for him. I know everything there is to know about him, and I love him. You and Mum are the only ones with a problem. Everyone else is happy for us.” He shoves his hands in his pockets, fists clenched and he blows out a breath. “I’m not getting into this again, I just came to tell you to stop.”

“You can’t tell me who I can and can’t talk to.”

“I can when my four year old is in tears because he heard you, when he thinks his Dad will be sad because of you. I don’t care what you think anymore, but I will not have that little boy upset.”

“Aaron.” It’s so quiet he barely hears it in his anger but Paddy’s scoff of disgust has him turning to see Robert in the entrance to the surgery. “Leave it, it doesn’t matter.”

“Yes it does. I’m not havin’ him talking about you like that, or Seb hearing it.” He turns back to Paddy. “Just leave us alone, and keep your opinions to yourself around my son.” He stalks out, leaving Robert to catch him up.

“Oi, hang on. Aaron, wait.” Finally he stops, staring into space, not meeting Robert’s eyes. He couldn’t work out if he was angry at him or not. “What was that about.”

“Seb. He…last night he was upset because he’d heard Paddy talking, spouting the same nonsense about you. He didn’t want to go to nursery because he thought you’d be sad.” Robert doesn’t say anything, just stares at the ground. “He’s fine now. I told him I’d sort it.”

“This is all my fault, isn’t it? Seb shouldn’t be worrying about me. He’s four!”

“Yeah and he loves his Dad. None of this is your fault. It’s his.” He jerks his head towards the surgery. “His and Mum’s for being so blind that they can’t see how great you are, how much better my life is because of you.”

“I don’t deserve you.” He shrugs. “I mean it. Anyone else would’ve washed their hands of me ages ago and here you are going all Rambo on me and all but threatening Paddy.”

“Pfft, I didn’t threaten him. Anyway how did you know where I was.”

“Solicitor changed the meeting. I saw Belle in the cafe and yes you pretty much did. You do realise he’s just going to hate me all the more now.”

“Yeah well, we won’t be here forever will we?” They’d all but decided they were definitely moving, it was just a case of getting everything sorted and waiting out Robert’s time on license. “And don’t go all they’re your family on me. If they cared about that then they’d be on my side. You’re my family, you and Seb, you’re all I need…and I think I want to go get our son and get out of this place for the day. What do you say?”

“Sounds good to me. I love you, you know.”

“I know. Love you too. Now come on."

————

“You know this isn’t bad.” Robert told him after the first mouthful. He’d cooked something a bit more complicated than usual after their day out. They’d taken Seb to the local petting zoo, even though most of the animals could be found up at Moira’s farm. He’d loved it, and hadn’t wanted to leave even though he was already tired and starting to fall asleep in Robert’s arms. Now all they had to do was get him fed and in bed. Seb really wasn’t one for complicated dishes, he’d live on dinosaur nuggets if he could, but getting him to help cook every so often had meant he promised to at least try new food.

“Thanks, I think.”

“Well you admit yourself that cooking isn’t your thing.”

“Dada learned with Uncle Marlon, on the ‘puter.” Seb pipes up, mouth full of pasta.

“Oi, close your mouth, you heathen and that was meant to be a secret.”

“You took cooking lessons?” Robert’s far too amused and Aaron childishly feels like flicking a piece of pasta at him to shut him up.

“There was a poster in the cafe, Marlon was doing these online lessons so I gave it a go. The kid needed feeding.” He tells him, tickling Seb and making him giggle. “I’m quite happy to pass the cooking back over to you now.”

Later when Seb’s finally in bed they can talk. The little boy is like a sponge, soaking up everything anyone says so they’re learning to leave any important conversations until he’s out of earshot. He’s stretched out on the sofa, Robert beside him and it’s just nice to be able to sit together and not have to say anything.

“I was thinking…about the house.” He’s not sure how to broach the subject, Robert’s been reluctant to talk about it since they’d got home from the solicitor’s office.

“Mmm, and what did you thunk?”

“Idiot. We always mention France when we talk about leaving, but we don’t have to go there…if you wanted to keep it.”

“You want to live in my Gran’s house?” Aaron can’t make out if he’s angry or not. “And what would we do for work?”

“Well last I checked they did actually drive cars in Spain. We’ve got the haulage, maybe you could open up an office there. I don’t know, it was just a thought.”

“You mean it don’t you?”

“I’m not fussed where we live. All I’m saying is, we don’t have to live in France. If you wanted to keep the house we could use it, at least for a while. Or if you want to sell it, then it doesn’t matter. You’ve not said anything about it.”

“I still don’t know why she left it to me. I never went there. She moved after the last time I visited, and well…”

“She loved ya. I know your family is…complicated but she was your Gran and if she wanted you to have it then just accept that it’s what she wanted.”

“I know…it’s just…” He twists so he’s facing him. “It’d solve a lot of problems though wouldn’t it, living there, or using the money.”

“Well it’d save me having to face Liv at the very least. Do you know anything about it, is it even suitable for the three of us?”

“Hang on.” He struggles to his feet, legs tangled with Aaron’s. “The solicitor gave me some details, there’s photos.”

He hands them to Aaron before settling back down beside him. He’d barely looked at them when he’d been given them, still a little stunned at the whole business. The house looked nice though, the decor wasn’t his taste but it would be easy enough to update. There was plenty of room and it was only a stone’s throw from the beach. Seb would love it.

“What do you think?”

“Looks nice. We could give it some thought, maybe go out there for a few days to see. You should be able to do that yeah?”

“I can find out. Be nice to get away for a few days, just the three of us.” He sighs. “You’re really sure aren’t you? I know I keep asking but…don’t just agree to this move for me. It has to be what you really want.”

“It is. I mean it. I want this to be a new start, me, you and Seb. Away from everything.”

————

“Where’s Sugden then?” Cain asks him the next day. They’re in the pub for lunch, tucked away in the corner where he can at least pretend his Mum isn’t watching his every move with that now familiar look on her face.

“He had a meeting. He should be here in a minute.”

“And he’s alright, being out and that.” He looked up from his pint, expecting Cain to be teasing or something but he genuinely looks concerned.

“He’s getting there.”

“Who’s getting where?” Robert asks, having snuck up on them, slipping into the seat beside Aaron, kissing him hello.

“Cain was just asking how you were getting on. So, how did it go.”

“It’s fine. We can go, just for a few days.”

“Where are you off to?”

“We’re going to take a look at the house his Gran left him. In Spain.”

“Nice. You going to let it out then? Should fetch in a bit.” Aaron rolls his eyes, not really knowing how to answer. He looks at Robert, a silent conversation, before he answers.

“We’re thinking of living there.”

“What!” He jumps at his Mum’s voice right behind him and wants to kick himself.

“You heard.”

“So he’s not only causing trouble between you and your family, now he’s dragging you away from the village. Again!” Aaron can see Cain rolling his eyes at his sister and he opens his mouth to answer but she’s not finished. “You just can’t help yourself can you. All along you’ve been causing trouble and now you’re taking him from me.”

“Mum…” He starts but Robert puts a hand on his shoulder as he gets to his feet.

“You know what Chas, I’ve had about enough. Since Aaron and I got together properly I’ve done nothing but try and fit in with you and your family. I’ve done your accounts for nothing, helped behind the bar and goodness knows what else. I looked after Noah as well as Liv when you and Charity both went off to Prague with Sarah. I’ve bit my tongue every time you’ve had a little dig at me since we got back together even though you and Paddy have both cheated before. I know I’ve made mistakes, some I can’t ever make up for. I know that, but you, and Paddy haven’t even given me a chance.”

“Now wait a minute.”

“No, you wait. My wedding day, I had Paddy calling me Mr Shifty, the day I proposed he said I was the worst possible person for Aaron. You might have put on a front for everyone else but I heard the comments, I know what you think of me. Frankly I don’t care. I do care when it affects my son, when it affects my husband.”

“And just how is dragging him off to Spain going to help that.”

“I’m not dragging him anywhere. It was his idea. I would’ve stayed here, put up with it all just so he could have his Mum around, because I know what it’s like not to have one, to not have that person to turn to. But you decided to cut him off when we went to France, to constantly badger him about me when he got back, and now you wonder why he doesn’t want to be here anymore. The only one ruining your relationship is you.” Aaron takes his hand as he sits down, letting him know with his eyes just how proud he is.

“Are you going to let him talk to me like that?” She turns to Cain who hasn’t moved.

“What do you expect me to do? He hasn’t said anything that’s untrue. Seems to me you and that husband of yours could do with remembering that Aaron’s an adult, not Eve’s age. Now, can I finish my pint in peace?”

Aaron manages to wait until she’s flounced back behind the bar before sniggering at his uncle. “You’re brave.”

“Ah, she’ll get over it. You listen to me, I reckon you’re doing the right thing, getting away from here and everything that’s gone on. Right proud of you I am. I know you’ll be well looked after.”

“Is that a compliment Cain?” Robert pipes up.

“You just mind you look after ‘im. I’m only a plane ride away if you don’t.”

“When you’ve quite finished, you just told Mum I’m an adult.”

“Never hurts to have a backup though does it.”

————

The day had finally come. Robert was no longer on license and they were free to leave the village. Aaron had got up early, wanting one last walk around the village. He’d left Robert a note, not wanting to wake him, and he found himself in the graveyard, staring down at Jackson’s grave. It seemed a lifetime ago, back when he was a different person, one who really didn’t understand love, that love would make you go to the ends of the earth for someone.

He wanders a bit further, passing by Jack’s grave with barely a glance, stopping at Sarah’s, the mother-in-law he wished he’d been able to know. He had a feeling she’d be waving them off perfectly happy if she were here. Unlike his Mum, he sighed to himself. Part of him wished they could’ve parted on good terms, or at least speaking to each other, but she’d ignored him completely since the day in the pub, her decision made.

“I’ll look after him I promise.”

“This a private conversation or can we join you?” He turns to see Robert smiling at him, Seb in his arms still looking sleepy. “You alright?”

“Yeah, just…having a last look round.”

“We can still visit you know. It’s not like before.”

“I know. Couldn’t sleep.” He looks at his watch. “We should get some breakfast or we’ll be rushing around. Why don’t you take him to the cafe and get what we want and I’ll meet you at home.”

“Is this how it’s going to be now?”

“Mmm, just one more place I need to go.” He kissed him, smiling as he walked away, waiting until they were out of sight before changing direction to the garage.

Robert’s car had been left at a service station when they’d gone on the run, and he knew he regretted leaving it behind even if it was too rare to be any good to them, too likely to be spotted. Even though they’d never expected to come home he’d asked Cain to fetch it and keep it for him just in case. Ever since they’d come back he’d been working on it, making sure it was as good as it could be before surprising Robert with it. They were flying to Spain but Cain had been convinced to drive it over with the offer of a few days holiday.

He’s sat on the bonnet outside the house when Robert comes round the corner, holding onto their breakfast with one hand and Seb with the other and he stops when he sees him.

“Surprise!”

“What…how?” Aaron picks Seb up and sits him down beside him as Robert just stands there staring.

“I know how much you love this car. Cain’s going to drive it over in a week or so when we’re settled.”

“I don’t know what I did to get so lucky.”

“Shut up.”

————

“You take care now love, you hear me, and keep in touch!”

“Yes Gran, promise.” He hugs her, she was really the only one he was going to miss and he and Robert had already talked about inviting her over when they were settled in.

“We should go if we don’t want to be late.” Robert tells him, having got Seb settled in his car seat. He’d said his goodbyes to Diane and Vic before, while Aaron had taken his car back to the garage.

“Yeah.” He can’t help but look towards the pub, maybe a small part of him hoping that they’d get over it and come and say goodbye. The place was all closed up though and he sighed. “Right, well, see you Gran.”

He takes Robert’s hand when he gets in, waving one last time. “Ready?”

“Let’s go.” As they drove away he realised it was the first time he was willingly and happily leaving the village, same for Robert. This time it was for the best, for both of them, and they had no one chasing them, they knew that one day if they wanted they could always come back. For now though they had a whole new life to look forward to.

#robron fic #i couldn't fit liv in #or much vic and diane #but i had to have a chas and robert 'discussion'#enjoy #enjoy what we have

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script-nef · 4 years

Text

Ex-girlfriend | Miya Atsumu

Category: crack, fluff

Warning: profanities

1.4k words; just Miya Atsumu feeding his fans with his “girlfriend”

The link to the “interview” is a ridiculously high-quality cover of Colde singing Nabi Bobet Tau. It’s great, have a listen. The second one is “Lovestruck” also by Colde.

Lmao did you guys see the interview Atsumu did

Okay so I was just chilling on my couch, flicking through channels to see what’s fun and guess who I see. Getting interviewed. With his incredibly red “girlfriend” by his side. (In hindsight it could be because of the winter cold but listening to Atsumu, he’s probably the main cause) And feeding us for the next 2 months while MSBY doesn’t have any interviews or appearances.

Bruh the reporter who had the fortune of randomly meeting them, what’s the power to your luck I want them secrets. I need them secrets.

But honestly, I was in a shitty mood all day and his interview made my mood lift up. If you guys wanna see the interview, it’s here.

LMAO HE SAID “THIS IS MY EX-GIRLFRIEND” ON LIVE CAMERA SHE LOOKED SO MORTIFIED AND I WAS SCREAMING LIKE “WHAT THE FUCK YOU BROKE UP ATSUMU WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING BEG FOR HER TO STAY” THEN HE RAISED HIS HAND UP I SAW THE RING I CAN’T BREATHE

WHEN SHE SAID “Please stop introducing me to everyone like that” IN THE MOST EMBARRASSED VOICE LIKE BOY NOT GONNA LIE YOU HAD US IN THE FIRST HALF

AND IT WAS SO CUTE HOW SHE WAS SO RED AND HER REACTION WHEN SHE REALISED IT WAS LIVE. IT’S A MEME NOW I CALLED IT

Did you see her eyes when he started saying all the soft shit they do together? She was staring off into the distance like she gave up everything but she smiled so cutely when he looked back at her like a puppy. This is what I’m talking about. This shit is my life source. I need me an Atsumu. I need me some romance.

“What would be different when you’re married?”

“Not much, but now I can use the ‘But I’m your husband’ card whenever I wanna hug!” BOY WHY ARE YOU SO PURE WHEN IT COMES TO HER WHY CAN’T YOU BE LIKE THAT IN YOUR MATCHES THE DUALITY OF THIS MAN

DUDE HE FUCKING SAID THAT WE STAN THE BIGGEST SIMP PLEASE NEVER BREAK UP I AM BEGGING YOU!! FEED ME WITH THIS SOFT SHIT THIS IS WHAT GETS ME GOING

They’re so goddamn cute… Are there more clips of them together or anything like that?

There’s this page where people just dish whenever they see them together outside. It’s basically a massive collection of Atsumu being a lovesick fool for his now-fiancée. Here’s the link.

Going out

Apparently his girlfriend worked for MSBY and he fell in love with her. But they had some kind of a bullshit “no dating people affiliated with the team” rule or something so he counted down the days until her year-long contract was over.

And everyone was basically rooting for them since they were super obvious and they officially started dating at the small party on her last day. I think there’s like a super grainy video of them hugging for the entire party. And like, she fits into his embrace perfectly like damn what a match I wish my boyfriend hugged me like that.

SHIT IT’S FIANCÉE NOW I CAN’T BELIEVE BE HAPPY YOU FUCKING CUTIES I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH

Café AU

I own a café and Atsumu comes regularly with his girlfriend. She always orders the chocolate waffle combo which is a plateful of waffles topped off with oreo crumbles and chocolate sauce and a milkshake. But Atsumu doesn’t like sweet things so he just watches her the entire time. You know the “chin rested on hand, leaning onto the table and looking at their significant other like the rest of the world doesn’t exist” move? Yeah, imagine that times 2,000. Then square it. And even then you won’t come close to how lovestruck he is for her.

And whenever she looks up from her waffles, he just grins and asks her if it’s nice in the sweetest voice like. You can make those types of voices??? I thought my ears were malfunctioning for a second.

They’re just really cute and make me happy whenever I see them. I’m pretty sure a lot of my regulars also support them as well.

So they’re getting married!! Ugh I swear I’m going to give them extra food as my way of saying congratulations the next time they come around.

Wait, are you the owner of ChatNoir Café? Like the one Atsumu uploads onto his Insta all the time??

That’s me! Yeah, thanks to him I’m getting more and more business everyday. You fans are so amazing I even made a deal for you guys.

Atsumu just uploaded a video of him going through his new house. There is literally nothing in it other than bare essentials lmao. Hopefully they have similar taste in furnitures because I don’t think Atsumu’s going to back down on his decisions.

Insta upload

Nah, man. He’s always going to back down for her. You know how a lot of couples break up during the preparation for the wedding because they realised they’re too stubborn and get into fights? I was fearing that happening for Atsumu but then the match incident happened and I realised. This guy is whipped for her. Properly whipped. He’s never going to break up with her.

What’s the match incident?

It’s probably on YouTube, just search “Atsumu kneeling”.

It was a match where he did a spike which bounded off the opponent blocker’s arm and somehow went straight to her face. I was nearby her and my heart literally leapt into my throat when I saw it. She reacted fast enough and blocked it with her hand, but you should really watch the video to hear the sound. It’s somehow still so strong even after hitting the blocker (powerful boi)

Anyway he immediately ran to her to check up on the damage and literally broke down when he saw her skin turning red. He later said she gets bruises easily and that this left one which persisted for like, 3 months.

She kept saying it was fine and that’s it’s not his fault, but he knelt in front of her to show how sorry he was. In front of everyone. Like, everyone. I couldn’t see one person who wasn’t watching him. And everyone’s jaw was on the floor because holy shit this guy’s kneeling here. I couldn’t believe it and I was standing right there.

The coach eventually came to take him back and sent her to the infirmary to get the hand checked out, but she said something to Atsumu first which revived him. He never told us what it was but apparently it’s something really good since he got like, 10 services aces after that.

Lovesick Atsumu for the win

LOVESICK ATSUMU FOR THE WIN SAY IT LOUDER SO EVERYONE CAN HEAR

Drawing upload

Atsumu has uploaded yet another painting of him done by his fiancée and it is honestly amazing how someone has that much talent. Like, she’s pretty, probably has the patience and kindness of a God because she’s able to deal with Atsumu, artistic and adorable. Lady, what don’t you have??

I know right??? How are you so amazing please stop being so perfect and live like the rest of us plebeians down on Earth. How will I ever get a girlfriend when you’re everything I dream for??

I can imagine her painting and decorating the whole house while Atsumu trails behind her like a loyal puppy. Am I weird if I say I can see in front of my eyes how he’ll carry everything around and lean down for head pats while saying he deserves them for being good. Anyone else think this? No? Just me? Alright then.

YEAHHHH JOIN THE “ATSUMU IS FOREVER WHIPPED AND WE HAVE EVIDENCE” CLUB EVERYONE IS WELCOME!! In my 2 years of following this man I never thought that someone able to control him would appear but here she is. Our goddess.

My only wish is for them to love each other and grow old. And hopefully update us on bits of their sweet and fluffy lives.

#atsumu x reader #atsumu imagine #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu!! imagine #haikyuu one shot #haikyuu!! one shot #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#atsumu #miya atsumu #SNS format #crack #fluff #female reader

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shreddedparchment · 5 years

Text

Pseudo Princess Pt.16

A Shared Bed

11/17/2019

Pairing: King!Steve x Reader Word Count: 6,113

Warnings: nakedness, angst, fluff, lots of fluff, finally some fluff, language

A/N: I don’t know how often I’ll be updating after this one as work is about to blow up with the holidays. Please be patient and thank you to those who already are! xoxo I hope you enjoy this chapter. I had such fun writing it and finally...just...FINALLY. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

TAGS ARE CLOSED FOR THIS STORY!

The castle is brimming with people.

They have been coming and going since late afternoon yesterday and you haven’t seen his Majesty since your reunion in the open courtyard outside of the gardens.

It’s all felt a little like a dream too good to be true. Except for the blonde. Lady Sharon. Who has stuck close to his Majesty’s side—or so you’ve heard from Peter who you finally sent for.

“Why is she with him?” You wonder, trying not to let your jealousy show but there’s an edge in your voice. You’re on pins and needles with this woman.

“They uh…” Peter hesitates, shifting from foot to foot uncomfortably.

You turn to look at him, having been watching the come and go of decorators, musicians, and the general gentry. The castle is echoing with laughter and chatter and there’s an air of excitement flowing through the staff. Only your friends are receptive to your own mood.

Only Nat has been with you since yesterday and watched you go from a smiling idiot to a stressed-out pregnant woman.

She’d been a little surprised that you were so ready to forgive him, but she was also pleased.

“They have business to speak of.” Nat tells you, getting up from her seat by your fire and moving to serve you some tea. “Come have some tea. Don’t worry about Sharon. She’s nothing to worry about. Trust me.”

You turn to move to your designated chair, extra padding added at Grandmother’s request. She and Nat are serious ramping up the overprotectiveness as of late.

“Why don’t I need to worry about her? And what business would she have with him?” Okay, so you’re more than just a little jealous.

It’s icky, and deep in your chest. No, in your ribs. In your bones. Moving like searing magma, charring your insides and making you feel wretched.

“Didn’t he tell you that you didn’t have to worry about Sharon?” Nat asks.

“Yes.” You sigh, reaching for your cup as she holds it out.

“Steve is a man of his word. You have nothing to worry about.” She promises.

But you’re not convinced.

You give Peter a wary look and he seems to read you easily as he gives you a quick smile then backs out of the room and shuts the door for you to give you and Nat some privacy. Not that he won’t be able to hear you…but at least he won’t see you directly.

“But she had her hands all over him.” You sigh, taking a sip. “And she was so…”

You bite your lip, thinking of the regal woman you’d seen holding tight to his Majesty’s arm. The two of them had looked so right side by side. A beautiful couple. The queen he deserves.

“I know what she looks like. And she’s a lovely person. She wouldn’t try anything, Y/N.” Nat assures you, but you’re only half listening.

“Nat…” You begin.

“I promise you, Y/N. If he says that there is nothing to worry about-”

“No.” You interrupt her, “It’s not…I told him.”

Nat’s face blanks as she slowly sits herself down, placing the plate of cold meats she’d been serving you down.

“You told him you’re pregnant?” She whispers, so quiet that you have to read her mouth to understand.

Peter’s just outside.

“No.” You shake your head. “I…I told him that I’m not really father’s daughter. That he found me on the side of the road.”

“What?” Nat asks, her hand completely still, unlike the shift in her eyes that tells you she’s on alert suddenly. “Why?”

“Because he was telling me that I was his pearl and his gem and that I was true royalty and grace and all these other really nice things and I-I’m none of that, Natasha. I just couldn’t stand there and watch him make love to me thinking that I’m more than I truly am, so I told him.” You swallow hard, your mind reliving the beautiful memory over and over.

“What did he say?” She asks, voice tight and controlled.

“I know it was your specifically assigned task to keep my secret. To protect it. To make sure that I was never exposed but-”

“What did he say?” She repeats, a bit sterner.

“I told him I was no one. But he told me that I’m a Rogers.” The flutter that fills your chest is pleasant. The smile that tugs at your lips us unstoppable. “I thought he would throw me out.”

Nat releases a slow breath, then reaches over to place her hand over yours.

“And you haven’t told him you’re pregnant?” She asks, a bit more loudly than she probably planned but at this point, you figure she doesn’t care.

There’s an audible sound of a chair clattering on the other side of your door and you guess that Peter now knows.

A split second later, the door is thrown open.

“You’re pregnant?!” Peter gasps.

“Shh.” Nat chastises him, rushing up to shut the doors behind him after taking a quick peek out.

You’re smiling at him thought, biting into your bottom lip.

“And you’re not really King Stark’s daughter?” He shakes his head. “Not that it matters. You’re my queen. And my friend. I think. Right?”

You chuckle a little, so happy to have Peter in your life as your personal guard and a true friend.

“Of course, you’re my friend. More. You’re family, Peter.” And he beams. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about my true-”

“As happy as I am that Steve seems accepting of your true lineage, we should not advertise it. There are people who would use it to hurt you. From this moment on, you don’t speak of it. Okay?” Nat orders, turning a rare look of authority on you and Peter.

“Right. Of course.” Peter nods.

You’re more intrigued by her reasons though and though you promise yourself not to bring it up again ever, your brow is furrowed with curiosity.

“Who? How would they use it to hurt me?” You wonder.

“There are people who don’t want Steve as King. People who think they could do a better job. People who don’t think he deserves to be on the throne.” Nat moves to push your plate food closer.

“Why? He’s a good king.” You observe, thinking about how he was so kind and accommodating during his meetings with the people. The way he’d praised you for taking the initiative to help the poor.

He truly seems like a good man trying to rule his kingdom as best he can.

“There’s only one reason that he would have reacted badly to your…revelation yesterday. And it’s exactly for that reason. Because it’s a weapon that his enemies might use against him. But he loves you too much to care about that now.” She says.

“So, my low birth wouldn’t have mattered to him to begin with?” You wonder, watching Nat as she settles into her seat and relaxes now that all your cards are on the table.

“No.” She nods at your plate. “Please eat.”

You pick at the food. “Why?”

Nat meets your eyes and offers you a smile.

~~~~~~~~~~

“No. Not that one. Blue or red. Keep the blues around my queen. She looks lovely in blue.” Steve gushes, smiling like an idiot. “She looks lovely in anything.”

Behind him, Bucky laughs. Sam’s smile is wide as he shakes his head.

“What?” Steve asks, turning to look at the two as they linger by the doorway.

“She’s forgiven you for a few hours and she’s already got you wrapped around her finger.” Samuel notices.

“I am not…” Steve begins, attempting to deny it but there is no sense in doing so. Every bit of what he just said is absolutely true. “I can’t help it. I thought I’d lost her.”

“We know.” Bucky assures him. “We’re happy for you, Steve.”

After a moment, Samuel moves over to a few of the decorators and whispers in their ears.

They drop their tapestries and tablecloths, ornamental candelabras, and plush reupholstered cushions. Quietly they leave the large room and shut the door behind them.

Sam follows. Checking to make sure the door is properly shut and locked before he moves with Bucky over to Steve as he fusses with your seat beside his. Both are even in height though before yours had been smaller.

Steve can’t believe he’d let you keep sitting in that. You’re his Queen.

He feels a sudden surge of pride and pure elation at the thought of such a woman by his side.

A pigeon you most definitely aren’t and he’s not sure why you’d pick that name of all the things he might call you.

“…I’m of no consequence.” You’d said. “I’m no one.”

He could see it in your eyes, the way Sharon must have made you feel. Out of place. Not good enough even though that’s far from the truth.

Sharon is trained, taught to be a lady from the day she was born. Like Maggie. Like all the other women in his life, save two. Natasha, and…

“How are you holding up?” Sam asks, and because Steve’s mind is already there, he knows what Sam means.

Steve moves to his seat and settles in, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

The sleeves of his plain cream linen shirt are rolled up, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. He’s sleepy. He hasn’t slept since the night before last. And yet, he smiles. His pink lips curl up into a small smirk as he looks up and meets Bucky’s grinning expression and Sam’s worried gaze.

“I’m fine.” He assures them, looking down at his hands. He can still feel you in them. Body trembling a little but pressed softly against his own.

You’d melted against him, as if you couldn’t help yourself. You still like him. For some odd reason…

“I didn’t think you’d be.” Sam says.

“I did.” Bucky counters.

“You always said-” Sam continues.

“I know what I said. I should have known better. My own mother rose from nothing.” He begins.

“Not exactly nothing,” Sam says, “She was a noble woman.”

“A poor one.” Steve nods.

Sam continues. “She owned extensive lands without having access to them because of the clause in her father’s will that she had to marry first. The dowager Queen was rich, Steve. Before she married the King. Not poor.”

“In name only. She didn’t have access to any of that wealth.”

“Point is,” Sam continues more firmly. “She was raised as a lady. She attended feasts and dances and she came to court which is how King Joseph fell in love with her in the first place. If Y/N had not agreed to do what she did, the two of you would have never crossed paths.”

“And I would have lost my kingdom.” Steve points out, feeling a little miffed that Samuel is painting this picture of you forever poor in whatever village you came from, away from him. Never to be seen or held. Not by him.

Maybe you’d have married some farmer? Or a butcher? Maybe you’d have married a drunk and he might have beat you every day?

Steve sits back and grips the arms of his chair, squeezing them until the woodgrain is etched into his skin and the creak of it bending in his angry grasp brings Bucky’s and Sam’s eyes to them.

“I don’t know what motivations Y/N had for agreeing to this arrangement. I know that it’s odd. It’s suspicious in some ways. But Tony trusts her, and I’ve seen her as she truly is. She’s not capable of deceit of this magnitude. Not on her own.” Steve’s grip relaxes.

“She has been lying to you about her lineage since she arrived. What do you mean she isn’t capable of deceit?” Sam questions, and although Steve knows he’s only doing his job as one of his advisors, he really hates him for planting these seeds of doubt in his mind.

You’re so sweet and perfect. Why can’t you just be you and not have an ulterior motive?

“Sam…” Steve sighs, shutting his eyes tight then opening them as if to clear them. “Why are you trying to ruin this for me?”

“I’m not.” Sam tells him. “I’m not.”

Steve opens his eyes and sees him eyeing Bucky who’s frowning at him.

“All I am saying is that you need to talk to her. Get her side of the story. The truth. Until we know everything, this is risky, Steve. We could be putting the whole kingdom in jeopardy.”

As if Steve doesn’t know that he would be the one putting the kingdom in jeopardy, not we as Sam says.

“I doubt she’s a spy, Sam.” Bucky interjects, moving to sit on the table fully, metal hand and flesh hand held between his legs loosely. “I met her in King Stark’s castle and she’s just as she was then, now.”

“And you’re probably right.” Sam nods. “She’s very sweet and kind and she is the queen our king deserves, but I just want to be certain.”

For a long minute, silence invades the room as Steve’s mind reels with the possibilities of what your lie might mean. You’d confessed so readily, as if you’d been dying to do so for so long.

He also knows you were coerced into confessing by jealousy.

He can’t help it. He smiles, cheeks sore from how happy he’s been, grinning like a fool.

“What?” Bucky checks, tearing his eyes away from Sam.

“Nothing.” Steve continues to smile. “It’s of no consequence.”

“That can’t be true if you’re grinning like that.” Bucky argues. “Tell me.”

“No.” Steve gets up then moves towards the doors.

“Come on, Steve.” Bucky complains.

“Maybe it’s private?” Sam offers.

“No. It’s not private.” Bucky realizes. “He’s just embarrassed. Are you being sappy again?”

Steve’s cheeks burn scarlet and his ears flame on as he stops by the doors, hands on the handles.

“She’s cute when she’s jealous.” Steve smiles. “She doesn’t know how impossible it is for me to want anyone else.”

“He’s being sappy again.” Sam agrees.

“You need a wife.” Steve tells Sam, then turns to Bucky. “And maybe if you were a bit more eager to make love to Natasha she would come around and finally say yes.”

“I do make love to her!” Bucky says. “I tell her how beautiful she is. I bring her flowers and gifts.”

“Nat said that Y/N hasn’t opened even half of my presents. She’s kept them in a pile in her room, but she reads my letters often. Sometimes, you need to tell a woman what you truly feel, or she might never know.” Steve looks at his best friend. “When’s the last time you told her you loved her and exactly what she means to you?”

Bucky opens his mouth to speak but then shuts it when he can’t remember when.

“I’m going to go remind my own beauty how much I love her. You’re welcome to tag along.” He offers, then turns and heads out the door as his decorators bow their heads.

Sam and Bucky watch him go, observing the bounce in his step.

“When do you think he’ll forgive himself?” Sam wonders.

“For which part?” Bucky asks. “Never, Sam. Even if they’re married all their lives. I don’t think he’ll ever stop trying to make up for what he did to her.”

“You mean their wedding night?” Sam nods.

“All of it. If I did to Nat what he did to Y/N…well, I’d be dead for one, but she would never forgive me.” Bucky moves towards the door as the decorators come rushing inside and back to work.

“Has she forgiven him?” Sam follows.

“I suppose there’s only one way to find out.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A knock on your door startles you.

“Wait!” Peter’s voice pipes. “You can’t go in there yet.”

“Why not?”

His Majesty’s voice sends your heart into a thrill and you quickly rise from your tub.

Freshly bathed, you make to step out, but Natasha throws her arms out towards you.

“Wait!” She cautions. “Don’t! I’ll come to you.”

The panic in her eyes throws you and you realize that she’s afraid you’ll slip. But you’re already halfway out of the tub so you freeze with one foot on the carpet and the other inside your tub.

“What’s going on?” His Majesty asks, knocking on the door again. “Y/N? Are you okay?”

“She’s fine. What do you want?!” Nat asks, irritated and rushing to you to help you step out fully and then wrap you up in your robe.

You look down as it clings to your form and you can see the bump of your barely forming belly and you can’t let him see you like this. He’ll know. You’re not ready to tell him yet.

I should tell him, though.

You chew your lip as Nat suddenly throws a thicker robe over your shoulders and wraps you up tight.

“There you go.” She smiles at you, reassuring you. “Should I let him in?”

“What do you mean, what do I want? I want to see my wife.” His Majesty argues, the grumpy note in his voice clear.

He doesn’t like being kept out of your room and it’s probably because he doesn’t want to take a step back after yesterday.

If you’re honest, you can’t wait to see him either.

You nod in answer to Nat’s question and she makes sure that your tummy is carefully padded with robe and then moves to open the door.

She cracks it open at first and you watch her back, relaxed from previous tension, as she looks through the split in the door up at a single blue eye as it peers in, eager to get a look at you.

“What if she doesn’t want to see you?” She wonders.

“Should I leave?” His Majesty asks, ready to comply but you can hear the regret in his voice and your heart gives a small ache.

You shake your head without speaking.

“If it was me, you’d be castrated and beheaded by now.” Nat informs him.

“Are you threatening your king?” His Majesty wonders, playfully though, so you know this must be normal.

“Every day.” She promises, then moves aside and pulls the door open.

His majesty is a vision…

He’s not dressed in anything fancy. He’s wearing a pair of plain trousers, the ones he wears when he goes on his rides or for a walk. His shirt is simple white linen, sleeves clinging tight to his arm’s muscles except around the forearm where they puff out and meet cinched at his wrist.

He looks tired, however. Eyes slightly dry. Hair a little limp. You can see it in him when he blinks, and his eyes struggle to reopen.

“You’re tired.” You realize, out loud, without meaning to.

The smile his mouth twists into, bright and brimming with joy dazzles you and you’re out of breath.

“You’re worried about me?” His gasps, moving towards you, ignoring Nat as he passes her.

Behind him, another familiar head with long black hair peeks in. Ice blue eyes look at the redhead and he wiggles his eyebrows. “My love.”

“What are you doing here? I thought you and Sam would be tied up all day.?” She wonders, reaching out for him and he takes her hand, kisses it, then smiles.

“I was given a lecture about showing appreciation for my woman.” Bucky explains.

“Your woman? Excuse you, good sir, but I am my own woman.” Natasha argues, her hand still in his.

“And yet, you’re mind. Come, let’s go for a walk before we lose the chance. You won’t mind if I steal my lovely betrothed, do you, your Majesty?” Bucky asks, looking at you as his Majesty reaches you and places his arms on your forearms, caressing them, holding them as he pulls you closer.

“N-no.” You reply, distracted.

“I’ll be back in half an hour to get you dressed.” Natasha says, fixing you with a reassuring gaze.

She wants you to tell him about the baby. She’s worried about the throne. She also wants you to be happy.

“Okay.” You whisper, very aware of the heat radiating off his Majesty’s body.

“Come on, Peter.” Natasha says, gripping his arm.

“What?” He replies in shock. “But-”

“I’m sure they don’t want an audience. Go get something to eat and maybe change for tonight? This’ll be your only chance.” She points out and without further argument, she closes the door behind her leaving you and his Majesty alone in your room.

The crackle of the fire is loud. Deafening in the weighty silence between you and his Majesty.

Your heart begins to pound. Nervous, you think about your tummy and almost look down at it but remind yourself that you shouldn’t, so you don’t.

When you think you might go crazy, your mind worrying about a million different things, you shut your eyes and inhale.

“Are you alright?” His Majesty asks. “I’m sorry I haven’t come to see you. I would have but something has happened, and we had to act very quickly.”

“What happened?” You wonder, grasping at anything to fill the silence.

His Majesty looks down at your chest then back up to meet your gaze as he considers what to say.

Does he not trust you?

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t trust me.” You say, miffed, and your voice is suddenly a bit colder.

“No.” He sighs. “No, Y/N, it isn’t that. I just don’t know how much to tell you. You need to know. It concerns your safety too.”

“My safety?” You ask, squeaking a little in fear but not for your own life but the one you carry in your tummy.

He nods. “Mmm.” His hands are explorative. Tracing the lines of your arms all the way back to your shoulders then down again.

As you begin to chew your lip, he reaches up and traces your bottom lip.

“Don’t be nervous, my flower. I’ll never let anyone hurt you.” He assures you.

You shut your eyes, relishing in his touch but also trying to comprehend this man with the one that wouldn’t let you touch him.

“I’m…I’m a little overwhelmed.” You admit.

“Why?” He checks, suddenly pulling you towards a seat by your breakfast table. He makes sure you’re sitting then squats down in front of you.

He’s so tall even low as he is, he’s only an inch or so shorter.

“This change between us-?” You begin, but he sighs, and you stop speaking.

“It’s my fault, this distance between us. We have a lot to talk about. More than you know but know that I’m ready for you now.” He nods.

“I wish you’d been ready before.” You sigh.

“Me too.” His Majesty admits. “Every word that I’ve written to you is the truth. I have loved you since almost the moment we met. I fought myself hard because I didn’t think it was right, but she would not have wanted me to be cruel. She would have wanted me to be happy.”

You frown, hating the mention of Maggie from him. It’s bad, but you can’t help it.

“And I know I’m risking expulsion from your presence again by bringing her up but trust me when I say that I will never compare you to her again. I-Do you want to hit me?” He offers.

“Will it hurt?” You wonder, tempted.

He smiles, a small smirk at your threat. “Probably not. But I’d understand that it should.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, your Majesty.” You sigh.

“Steve, please, flower. Call me Steve.” He begs.

“I can’t yet.” You sigh.

He buries his face into your lap, just hating himself more for what he’s done to you.

Your heartbeat spikes, he’s so close to your stomach.

“I don’t want to replace Margaret.” You continue, eager to move on. “I never wanted to. Or to hurt you. All I wanted was for you to give me a chance.”

He looks up at you and your voice nearly chokes. Somehow, you push through it.

“I love you.” You confess, and the brightness in his eyes becomes unbearably pleasant.

He takes a deep breath and his chest swells with pride.

“All I want is a fair chance.” You bite your lip again and this time his Majesty leans in, thumb smoothing out the softness of your lip before he reaches back to hook his hand behind your head.

Your lungs are suddenly empty, and you inhale and hold it.

“May I?” He whispers against your mouth, the heat of his breath overwhelming.

You nod.

His Majesty presses his lips to yours and you whimper a little, unintentionally as his lips move against yours.

He devours you, a smattering of wet tongue and a soft kiss as he settles in between your legs while dropping down onto his knees to kneel more comfortably.

Your hand closes around the neck of his shirt, gripping it tightly as you cling for dear life.

His hands are wandering, moving away from your shoulders down to your waist and awfully close to your stomach.

The kiss is heated but because you have both been wanting it for so long. As he pulls back to tilt the other way, you lick your lips and sigh, finding his hands with yours.

“I’m pregnant.” You whisper, shocked yourself that it slipped out. “I…”

His Majesty pulls back a little, face suddenly pained as he stares into your eyes to see if you might be joking.

“Grandmother says that I am about four months along?” Your shoulders heave up and down as you try to catch your breath.

Your little revelation makes it harder to breathe because you’re nervous about his reaction.

“I didn’t want to tell you because I-I wasn’t sure whether you really wanted me.” You sigh, voice cracking a little in sorrow. “You’ve pushed me away, told me in so many ways that you don’t love me and I was afraid that if I told you that you would want me only because I was with child and I don’t want that.”

You smile at him tightly, on edge. “I want you to love me because you love me and not because I’m carrying your heir.”

His Majesty is silent, watching you with that same pained expression until he reaches up and cups the side of your face.

“If Thor touches you again, I’ll have him beheaded. I don’t care if it brings about war. If he looks at you with that wistful look again, I’ll scoop his eyes out with a spoon. He’s one of my closest friends, but if he ever tells me again how you taste like honey, I’ll slice his tongue out. This is how I feel.” His Majesty says. “You are mine. And I am yours. Before any children. Before any obligations or duties, if I don’t have you by my side, I don’t want this crown.”

You know you can only believe so much. If he had to fight for the Kingdom to save the people, he would, but you also understand what he’s saying. He kissed you before he knew you were pregnant. He loves you.

How much, you’re not sure. But he does love you. You smile.

“Do we have to have this feast tonight?” You wonder, reaching up to trace the lightly discoloration underneath his eyes.

He really does look very tired.

“Yes.” He tells you, rubbing your back with his large heated hands. “I have to correct other mistake that I’ve made with you that are not as personal and more politically driven.”

“What mistakes?” You wonder, still tracing the shape of his cheek.

He reaches up to take hold of that hand and pulls your fingers to his lips to kiss and just hold against his lips.

“There are rumors that I hate you.” He sighs. “Rumors that I don’t care about you. That you and I only married because it was my duty. Our duty.”

“Which is true.” You point out.

“Yes. But I do love you. You are my chosen Queen. And maybe things were different before, but I need them to know that you’re right where you should be.”

“Because I’m not really-?”

“You’re true royalty, Y/N. Never doubt it. I will show them that you are irreplaceable. That they’re wrong.” He assures you and presses a firm kiss to your palm.

“There’s something else you’re not telling me.” You frown.

His Majesty sighs.

Suddenly he brings both hands to your waist and then carefully begins to undo your robe. Your cheeks burn savagely, neck coursing with sudden heat. As he exposes your first layer, he undoes the second robe and moves that open too.

You sit before him, naked, with only the edge of the fabric shielding your breasts from full exposure.

His eyes are not on your nakedness however, but on your tummy.

He slides his hands into your robe, caressing the sides of that belly gently while also greedily taking in the feel of your freshy bathed skin.

“You smell good.” He says without thinking.

“I j-just bathed.” You remind him.

“While you were gone, we made a show of playing up an illness for you. The word was spread across the people that you were sick and that is why you had not been seen in weeks. Most believed it. Some didn’t.” He sighs.

He runs his thumbs along your side and though you might have once been focused on his words, the fact that he’s never touched you this way also keeps your brain from focusing.

“The meeting yesterday was about a resurgence of what is known as Hydra.”

You gasp, knowing the name. “They’re back?”

“And I think they’re the ones that attacked you the day you came home.” He nods, looking up to meet your eyes, speaks in a whisper. “We think that there are spies in my council. Trying to destroy my chances at keeping the kingdom. That’s why you’re in danger.”

He looks back down at your tummy and renews his caress.

“You and our little one.” He sighs, smiles, and then his expression darkens.

“This isn’t good news then?” You sigh too, reading the situation with new eyes and a fresh perspective.

He tears his eyes up to you and shakes his head. “This is the best news.”

He smiles.

“Please don’t let my need to contemplate every scenario darken this moment for you. I am so happy that you’re with child. I’m only sorry that I didn’t do my duties as your husband properly. I’ll make it up to you.” He runs his hands back to your lower back and halfway down your bum.

You gasp lightly, your body reacting to his touch again.

“I promise.” He smiles.

No, that’s a smirk.

“I wanted it to be you.” You confess, dropping your voice to a whisper in slight embarrassment. “When Thor kissed me. When he touched me.”

His Majesty’s brow furrows, and he growls as he pulls you closer, dragging the chair along the floor so that it groans loudly against the stone. You’re surprised by the pull and your hands hurry to his shoulders to cling in surprise.

“I swear I’ll kill him.” He says.

You shake your head. “He’s why I came back. If he hadn’t shown me that it could be good…that there might be a different way with you…I would have kept running.”

Your legs are spread around him, lifted up slightly so that your feet are hanging off the ground as your knees rest on the sides of his hips.

“I want to show you how good it can be.” He whispers, bringing his left hand down to your ankle to take hold of it possessively. “I was a fool. An idiot. A moron in denial.”

“You’re tired.” You realize as he closes his eyes in one quick blink, but they stay closed a bit too long.

“I have enough energy for you.” He swears.

“Your Majesty,” You chastise.

“Steve. Please, please. Call me, Steve.” He begs, leaning up to kiss your neck.

You shut your eyes; lips slightly parted as he pulls your leg up higher against the side of his hips.

“I c-can’t.” You gasp, breathless.

“I’m going to make you scream it.” He whispers into your ear and your body is red hot metal iron, heated until pliable.

As his tongue traces the shape of your ear, a heaviness begins to settle on your chest. Your lungs struggle to pull in a breath, and your heart is racing but not in excitement.

“No.”

And as if a sudden gust of wind has blown out his flame, his Majesty pulls back, hands move to your waist again, and he gives you a bit of space.

“No, I…I can’t.” You shake your head, disappointment flooding your chest as the fear and tightness there takes hold.

“I…” But you don’t need to go on.

“I’m sorry, my flower. Forgive me. I’m a little eager.” He says, his caressing hands trying to reassure you that you are safe.

“I-I’m eager too, I just…”

“I know it wasn’t good with me.” His Majesty suddenly says. “And our wedding night was—I will never forgive myself for what I did to you.”

“You’ve said that before.” You point out, feeling calmer by the second.

“And it will never stop being true. I did something unforgivable and somehow you’re able to love me still.” He reaches up to stroke your cheek.

“We love you.” You remind him, then reach for his hand and drag it down to your stomach. “Both of us.”

His Majesty is all smiles. As he continues to stare and as he feels your barely there bump, his eyes grow misty.

“Thank you.” He gushes. “For giving me this gift. For coming back home. For putting up with me.”

You nod. “Thank you for trying.”

He dives down to kiss your belly, nuzzling it with his nose as you slip your hands into his hair hesitantly.

Will he like the affection? You’re almost afraid to give it.

As your fingers card through his hair, he relaxes more and shuts his eyes.

“How much time do we have until the feast?” You wonder, looking towards the window at the day outside.

“Hours.” He says weakly.

“I’m tired.” You tell him, hoping that if all of this devotion is really true, he’ll try to make you feel better.

“You’re tired?” He worries, sitting back again to look at you.

“Yes. But I don’t want to part with you yet.” You admit. “Do you have anything to do this afternoon?”

“Nothing.” He says eagerly.

“Will you lay with me?” You hope he doesn’t see through your ruse and even if he does, that he’ll pretend not to.

“Yes!” He says, too eager. “Yes, of course.”

Carefully he helps you to your feet.

He’s just like Nat and Grandmother already, protective. Watchful.

You peel off the top robe, the thicker one, and set it aside then move towards your bed as you tie up the first, much thinner one.

Dry, it sways around you smoothly as you climb into bed and look for his Majesty.

He watches you from the foot of the bed, a look of concern on his face.

“The last time we were here I wasn’t-”

It’s true, you don’t have good memories with him in this bed, but you’re eager to change that.

“Come.” You tap his side of the bed. “I’m cold.”

Like someone has kicked his bottom, he springs forward to his side of the bed and climbs in quickly.

He lays down. Feet hanging off the bed.

With a frown you move over to them and undo his boots.

“I’ll do that.” He makes to sit up, but you push him back with surprising force.

You make quick work of his shoes and then lay beside him before you roll into the circle of his arms and press your hands against his chest.

He’s hesitant, his arms hovering around you loosely.

“Don’t you want to hold me?” You probe, eyes already shut.

Tight arms pull you close, leaving you in no doubt that he does indeed want to hold you.

It takes ten minutes of his hands gently stroking your back before they still and you peek to find him fast asleep, mouth slightly open.

You shut your own eyes and hope this isn’t a dream.

#king!steve x reader #king!steve rogers x reader #king!steve x you #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #medieval au #royal au #arranged marriage au #avengers x reader

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blushing-starker · 4 years

Text

Cold mates and black coffees

For @starkerfestivals prompt of mates

There is, he supposes, something beautiful about a world such as this, primitive yet advanced and sophisticated. Children no taller than his knee carry around super computers that fit in the palm of one's hands, talk to friends thousands of miles away whenever they want. It used to take him months to receive his preferred concoction for the early night wake up call, now stores inhabit every corner of every city. They patiently wait to receive their dependents, all sorts of people relying on some version of the simple black coffee to jolt their system. Convenient, sure, no doubt about that. A quick stop at a Starbucks and violá, five hours of productivity guaranteed. But nothing builds character like swimming laps through a freezing lake infested with piranhas to keep away the urge to rest for just another five minutes. Unfortunately, sleepless days were the norm for him and Rhodey whenever they endeavored to race each other underwater.

There are clothes, too. Clothes for each season available year round. Fox fur adorns a lanky mannequin next to a twin showcasing how breezy summer fabrics can be. Riding boots that he would have spent a small fortune on decades ago shine below man made light for the cost of a nice meal over at Pepper's. Jewels fine enough for the family vault enchant any who take so much as two steps in either direction. Everything is for sale; it just means swiping a plastic card, presenting a number off a super computer or giving the cashier the remains of ancient trees. He could buy an ice cream cone (with sprinkles, of course, he's not an idiot) and immediately wander over to a restaurant selling sizzling curry. It's what his father dreamed about, a thousand years ago. How odd then, that his only heir couldn't be more nonchalant to all this.

It's his what, first month back from sleeping for half a century? He got accustomed to this whirlwind of a consumerist world by the first week. The soft purr of self-driving engines, flashing neon street signs, a melting pot of twenty, thirty languages, glittering clothes clashing with garish makeup, an overwhelming scent of smoke, perfume and money is as familiar as the palm of Rhodey's left hand or Pepper's right. Is it fantastic, being alive for the wild ride that is the twenty-first century? Yes, of course it is. But it's his father's dream; not his. His dream is the same as what drove Maria Stark into the world: finding his mate. Which, logically speaking, won’t happen until time has colored his hair with quite a bit more starlight and streaked thin lines around not too shabby cheekbones. (Rhodey’s teasing words.)

Going along with logic, there is a chance his mate will never show up. It was mere luck his father met the only woman besides Peggy that could stand his whole. Well, that could just stand him, period. A mate is found by scent, identified by touch and only bound with words. If his father had gone for one more drink, he’d probably be as real as the tooth fairy. In the back of his head, there lives a voice. And this voice he named Miss Lucky. She told him how lucky he would need to be in order to find a mate not too close to cradle or grave, a person that saw eye to eye in the majority of the basics and was open to his predilection. Someone that wouldn’t fear or expose him, wouldn’t want to strike the killing blow themselves. And Christ, with or without Miss Lucky, it’s a fool’s idea, thinking that in the middle of New York amidst one of the coldest winters to ever grace the city, his mate, his soul’s match, his other heart will chance upon him and actually accept the fact that he barely exudes a scent. Let alone something useful enough to help others recognize his class.

That’s the one downfall to living in this time; so much tension regarding one’s class. It is infinitely better than before when there were only three possibilities and the social restrictions could very rarely be shattered. But now it’s about pulling rank, percentages listed on a piece of paper could be used against you or signify one’s survival. A double-edged sword. To be a nurse, any applicants must be less than thirty percent alpha. Soldiers were forbidden from entering foreign countries if they had more beta characteristics than not. Lovers, in some parts of the world, could marry exclusively when their percentages were compatible. In the old times, if you smelled like an omega, you were treated as such. That could entail being thrown into a whorehouse or perceived as royalty destined to bring life into the world. Once puberty came, a simple prick and a vial of blood determined one’s next decision regarding the future.

He took the test. Just out of curiosity and it’d be rude not to provide a mate with information so readily accessible merely because of an unjustified fear over his identity. He is an alpha. And if the test had said otherwise, it would have been no problem. Of course not, he would have been proud to identify as a beta or omega. His mother was a beta and his nanny, basically his second mother, was an omega. No shame would’ve clouded his mind at receiving such news. The matter was this, though, he had believed to be an alpha the entirety of his life. If the paperwork said that was his lowest percentage, different rules and procedures, updated to today’s society, would need to be learned.

And he’s so tired of it all when only a handful can smell the fact he’s an alpha. What was he supposed to do, carry the results in his pocket in case a bigot searched for a fight? No, that would be, as Pepper had made very clear before, extremely silly.

He carries the test in case his mate considers such matters important. Or their family. Yes, it’s not because he worries that society will somehow doubt his identity. In the end, being an alpha is an integral part of who he is. It shouldn’t be that way and he barely knows what that means, but it’s true. Miss Lucky comes back around swiftly now, what if his mate isn’t interested in him because of his percentage? What then? Learn what the other classes represent to that person and behave in ways they believe suit said classes? Could his match be with a pureblood, intent on “staying true” to their highest percentage? Would he be able to, cinnamon. Wait, cinnamon and honey? Is that rain and sunlight? Since when does Starbucks incorporate those smells? And how the hell does he know what sunlight smells like? He’s insane. There’s no other explanation, oh that must have hurt.

A young man has just barreled into him. Slammed into his arm like a linebacker. A linebacker that weighs a feather and a half. How is he this light, a breeze had more force. What should he, what’s the proper ritual here, oh my god

“Your nose is bleeding- “

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking. I’m just late for class and- “

“Calm down and let me buy you some coffee; you’re half dead- “

“Shit, your coat. I will pay you back, I swear.”

He hums, looks down and apparently he was too involved in his quest to find a mate that he completely bypassed the thought that this man had accidently crashed into him while holding a coffee…

A mate. He doesn’t know what sunlight smells like. How could he? Unless that’s what his mate smelled like. The young man inhales sharply, lets out a little “oh, I think, I know it’s you.” and, on further reflection, he notices this kid has the voice of an angel. Soft and kind while not being so lilting he’d think it weak and demure. Ah, he looks like an ethereal entity too. Of course he does.

It’s the eyes that do it for him, enchant him enough he wants to kneel and propose right there in the hopes of waking up each night to those amber pools as familiar and mysterious as the universe itself. The rosy lips, pink cheeks and sweeping lashes are also quite nice. He has the body of a being from the old tales, a nymph or a muse destined to bring light and joy to the world. And black coffee to coats older than his father and grandfather combined.

“Could I touch you properly? I think spilling sugar over that coat didn’t really give me the chance to feel my mate, Mister?” Rhodey’s gonna annihilate him. This is a child, twenty-one at most. They could exchange numbers; communicate when his best friend wouldn’t be tempted to take one look and accuse him of going for jailbait. He could make a plan, organize a way to gently explain how he’s an undead creature of the night whose low circulation means that somehow his hormone production slowed and therefore he barely smells like wood let alone an actual human being. They could make it work. If he’s lucky, Angel here won’t fall for another. If he’s lucky, lots of things won’t happen. Or they will anyway.

“Stark. Tony Stark. It’s a pleasure to meet you, all things considered. When I learned one’s mate smells like something unknown, I didn’t quite expect literal sunshine to be what I noticed. And don’t worry about the coat; it’s nothing.”

Marie Antoinette gave him this coat as a gift on his sixteenth birthday a few years before her death. It’s fine.

“Oh. I, I wouldn’t have thought I smelled like that. It’s really nice, actually. You smell, and please don’t take this the wrong way, like alpha. And home. I know it’s weird, but I can’t explain it any other way. I’m sorry if it’s too- “

At least he already knows he dislikes that worried furrow on such a happy face. He surges forward, clasps a soft hand and lets slip a shocked gasp, sees the mirrored reaction because Jesus, it’s as if he licked his finger and then stuck it inside a power outlet. Every hair on his body stands on end and when was the last time his heart beat that fast? Surely it was the night his old flame left or when they, no. No memories of a past lover when his mate is right here, clutching his hand like a lifeline.

“I don’t believe I know your name. Seems a little unfair, don’t you think? Wanna even the odds?” It’s meant to make the young man smile and he does.

It’s only when he grins that Tony notices the sharpened incisors and the slight cold coming from the small figure. The same fog that follows him around even on the hottest of days. The exact shape of teeth Tony cleans in front of his bathroom mirror each night.

“Peter. My name’s Peter. Nice to meet you, Tony.”

#alpha!tony #tony stark #Vampire!Tony #vampire!peter #dark!starker #well #supernatural!starker #a/b/o au!#a/b/o!starker #starkerfestivals #my writing #peter parker

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danceworshipper · 4 years

Text

Oliver Adams - HPHM Profile [redone]

(information is as of sixth year - shared universe with @ask-hphm-crew)

Identity

Name: Oliver Tyler Adams

Gender: Male (cis)

Age: 16

Birthday: May 28th, 1973 (gemini)

Species: Human/wizard

Blood Status: Halfblood

Sexuality: Pansexual

Alignment: Neutral Good

Residence: The family farm in the Irish countryside. It's huge, a bit outdated decoration-wise, and homey. His room is on the third floor, looking out over the field and he can see the sunrise if he wakes up early enough. The farm is so old and imbued with magic that Oliver can use underage magic without the Ministry finding out

Personality Type: ESFJ-A (the consul)

Magic

Wand: 13 3/4 inches of pliant pine wood encasing a phoenix feather core. The wand is thick and heavy, light in color, and with no defining marks other than Oliver's name carved into it with a knife. Doing this did not damage the wand in any way, but when Ollivander saw it he nearly had a heart attack.

Animagus: A mixed breed cat, Siamese/Ragdoll, similar to the stray cats that lounge around the farm

Misc. Magical Abilities: Legilimency and Occlumency, though he doesn't practice them often

Boggart Form: In earlier years, it was a werewolf, since one could be heard howling somewhere near the farm during full moons. As he got older and met actual werewolves like Chiara, Oliver lost his fear of them and his boggart changed to a mortally wounded vision of himself, having failed to save anyone from the vaults and meeting his own painful end

Riddikulus Form: The vision of himself is instead only afflicted with a concussion, with his Quidditch team mothering him as he insists he's fine

Amortentia (what do they smell like?): Oliver would smell like roast chicken, fresh tomatoes, and bright sunshine

Amortentia (what do they smell?): At the current point, Oliver smells the ocean, cat fur, and wood polish. As he has no strong romantic interest (though that may change very soon) the smells just make him happy and aren't related to any specific person

Patronus: Dolphin

Patronus Memory: His first time seeing the ocean. Nothing went wrong that day, and he got to see dolphins for the first time too. He and his family all had a great time together.

Mirror of Erised: His mother and grandparents standing proudly behind him. It's his graduation day, not an injury to him. Everything turned out okay

Specialized/Favorite Spells:

- Reficere Aspectu - temporarily repairs his vision. The spell he uses for Quidditch matches.

- Lumos, Aguamenti, Wingardium Leviosa - extremely useful spells for around the farm

- Arania Exumi - spider repellent is always useful

- Orchideous - he conjures flowers for his mother and grandmother all the time

- Reparo - the first Transfiguration spell he got on the first try

Appearance

[concept image made using the zepeto app]

Height: 6'3

Weight: 191 lbs

Physique: Skinny with noticeable muscles from all the Quidditch and farming

Eye Color: Light, slightly greyish blue

Hair Color: Dirty blonde, usually kept in a bowl cut that his mother gives him. Oliver knows it's not fashionable (Andre is constantly nagging him to change it) but he doesn't really care enough to learn hair charms

Skin Tone: Light, no freckles. He burns easily so when he comes back at the start of every year he's a bit pink

Body Modifications: His eyesight is atrocious. He wears round glasses most of the time and uses a temporary vision charm for Quidditch

Scarring: Oliver has a nasty scar on his back from being kicked by a cow as a kid, and some scratches on his arms and legs from the various animals and work around the farm

Fashion: This kid has no fashion. Andre is in hell. Oliver wears shorts whenever he can and t-shirts. If it's cold he'll add a flannel. Around sixth year he starts updating his wardrobe a bit, but keeps his usual clothing for around the farm. No point having decent clothing get all dirty and ripped up

Hogwarts

House: Gryffindor

Class Grades:

- Astronomy: E

- Care of Magical Creatures: E

- Charms: A

- Defense Against the Dark Arts: E

- Divination: E

- Flying: O

- Herbology: O

- History of Magic: A

- Potions: A

- Transfiguration: A

Quidditch: Keeper since year 3

Extracurriculars: Dragon Club, Gobstones Club

Favorite Professor: Professor McGonagall. She's his head of house, and she reminds Oliver a bit of his grandmother with her stern but kind nature. She encourages his love of Transfiguration, even if he isn't the best at it, and she's a huge Quidditch fan

Least Favorite Professor: Professor Dumbledore. Oliver is an easygoing, agreeable guy most of the time. He respects his elders as his grandparents taught him, but only when they deserve it. Dumbledore most certainly does not

Relationships

Mother: Katie Adams

- Katie is a shy, quiet woman. She was homeschooled for most of her life, receiving at-home tutoring in her later years as her mother Gertrude was unable to properly teach her what she needed to know, and she's only seen the inside of Hogwarts twice: when she sat in for her O.W.L.s and her N.E.W.T.s.

- As a mother, Katie made sure to raise Oliver to be kind and always drink his Respect Women Juice. She had him take on some of the farm duties at a young age to help teach him responsibility

- Oliver got kicked by a cow when she turned her back on him for no more than ten seconds. Katie's boggart is what would have happened had Oliver been standing slightly closer - he would have been paralyzed, as the kick would have hit his neck

Father: Kyle Donovan

- Oliver never knew him. He was a muggle who left Katie shortly after she became pregnant

- He was a decent guy in general, but the idea of being a father at the age of 24 scared him and he ran like a coward. He never knew about the Wizarding world, and even if he wanted to return to try and make amends he'll never be able to find the family farm ever again, thanks to Marvin

Grandfather: Marvin Adams

- Marvin is a cranky, slightly old fashioned kind of guy. He cares a lot about tradition and keeps telling Oliver that one day the farm will be his, and then his kids', and then their kids'. Oliver doesn't have the strength to tell him he's not sure he wants kids at all

- Marvin loves his wife. There were many times in their relationship where it looked like the marriage was about to fall apart, but they were somehow always able to get through them - mostly by him apologizing to Gertrude

- Oliver is able to hold his own in a duel thanks to Marvin. Despite being an old crud, he's got a lot of fight in him

Grandmother: Gertrude Adams

- Gertrude was horrified that Oliver was going to grow up without a male influence, which is why Katie never moved off the family farm with him. The old woman made Oliver learn to cook and sew so that he wouldn't be a useless husband in the future

- She's the type of person who'll say that she still dreams of marrying her teenage sweetheart and moving to an island with him, but she doesn't mean it. She loves her family and her life, but she does one day want to retire on an island

- After Oliver graduates Hogwarts and takes over the farm, Gertrude will finally be able to convince Marvin that they can retire without worrying over the farm, and they'll move to a lovely beach house. Her last ten years will be spent in her own little paradise

Love Interest: Isla Lyall @sapphicsaffir

- Isla is the twin sister of Vera, one of Oliver's closest friends in Gryffindor. Isla is in Ravenclaw, so originally they didn't spend much time together. However, Oliver always found Isla cuter than Vera

- People who didn't know them well thought Oliver and Vera liked each other, but anyone who did know them knew Vera would rather die, and that Oliver preferred the red haired twin over the blonde one

- Vera is the one who keeps pushing to get them together. She told Oliver that she knows Isla likes him, but he refused to believe it. Still, she kept trying, saying that if anyone had to be her brother-in-law she'd rather it be him

- In fourth year, Ravenclaw lost a crucial match and it took them out if running for the House Cup. Isla, a chaser, was disappointed, but went to the final match to support her sister and her crush

- Gryffindor won, and in the excitement, Isla ran up to Oliver and yanked him down so she could kiss him. Oliver understandably short-circuited, while Vera yelled "Finally!"

Best Friend: Andre Egwu

- When Oliver first met Andre, they didn't like each other at all. They were on opposing Quidditch teams, after all. But their mutual friends forced them to spend more time together, and now the two are practically inseparable. It makes little sense to most people.

- They're the kind of best friends who insult the living daylights out of each other to show their love

- They went as friends to the Celestial Ball. A few people got the wrong impression, but they've never considered dating each other. They feel more like brothers than anything else

Rival: Anyone on an opposing Quidditch team. Even if the rivalry doesn't affect them off the pitch, Oliver's instinctive reaction when he sees his opponents is one of distaste (ironic since both his best friend and his girlfriend are his rivals)

Enemy: Every last member of R

Dormmates:

- Charlie Weasley

- Ben Copper

- Jae Kim

Pets: a barn owl named Priscilla, and a sheepdog who stays at the farm named Sparky

Closest Canon Friends:

- Charlie Weasley

- Nymphadora Tonks

- Diego Caplan

Closest Noncanon Friends:

- Vera Lyall @sapphicsaffir

- The gang from @ask-hphm-crew

- Unnamed members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team

Storyline

- Oliver was raised a happy, carefree little boy. His incident with the cow never deterred him from helping his mum and grandparents around the farm, and he even gave the cow an "I'm sorry I provoked you" treat as soon as he could. He didn't ask about his father until he was ten, and Gertrude sat him down and told him what happened. Oliver resents the man that fled his mother. Gertrude knew he'd be angry and didn't tell him his father's name

- During his first couple years at Hogwarts, Oliver made friends and charmed his way into most of the professors' good graces. In year three Oliver joined the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and after his first match against Ravenclaw, he and Andre started butting heads until their other friends forced them to hang out more

- Oliver gets involved with the Cursed Vaults almost by accident. He has no cursed brother like the game says, but he does have a desire to help people, so when he hears of a group of students trying to save the school from certain doom, he gets involved right away

- His discovered Legilimency throws him for a loop, as no one in his family has that power. He rarely ever uses his mind reading without permission, but when it becomes necessary he's usually able to do it without the target finding out

- After Hogwarts, Oliver will take ownership of the family farm for a few years, but it's not his passion and he hates the idea of being stuck there for the rest of his life. At age twenty two he sells the farm to one of the farmhands with three young kids and uses the money to buy a bakery with an apartment above it. He grows some of his own ingredients and buys the rest at discount from the old farm, and also runs guitar lessons out of his apartment. His grandparents are a little disappointed, but they understand, and his mother reveals that she had a secret boyfriend who she moves in with and later marries. He's a nice man with a kid a little older than Oliver

- Oliver and Isla have a small wedding a little before the Battle of Hogwarts. A few years later, Isla gives birth to twin girls Kenzie and Kleio. Five years after that, their son Caspian is born

Extra Info

- Oliver is a family man through and through. If he had to, he would have stayed on the farm forever to support his family. When he has his own family, he's an extremely devoted father even though he was never sure he wanted children when he was younger

- Despite not moving on to play Quidditch professionally, Oliver does join a recreational team after he sells the farm, as does Andre, who starts up his own fashion line

- Oliver is a total house husband. Isla is a cursebreaker, and Oliver brags about her to whoever will listen. She often comes home to a fresh cooked meal/baked goods

- Oliver's a cat person. He adopts two stray kittens when he moves to the bakery and loves them with all his heart

- He can't be alone for more than a few days or he'll go crazy. He loves spending time with his friends or even meeting new people

- He starts playing the guitar at the age of seven. Marvin is the one to teach him. Later on he learns about the muggle electric guitar and buys one as soon as he can figure out how to get electricity into his apartment

- Oliver visits his grandparents at their beach house at least five times a year. He can't get enough of the ocean, even when it's too cold to go swimming (and he'll usually do it anyway)

- He's the tallest one in his immediate family. Oliver assumes he got his height from his father, but he actually got the height from Gertrude's side of the family

- Oliver will always prefer to cook himself than to go to a restaurant

- He's a fairly good dueler, but Diego could always kick his ass

- Oliver will try to arrange a big meetup with all of his friends at least once a year. Not everyone can make it every time, but he refuses to let their friendships fade into the past

- He loses the bowl cut in year seven, when Andre convinces Tonks and Diego to hold him down so Andre can fix his hair. Oliver ends up liking it and keeps it that way for years to come

#hogwarts mystery #oliver adams #character profile #hphm mc #zepeto

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grunklefidds · 4 years

Text

i was thinking a lot about fiddleford's family last week, so here's a dump of thoughts (headcanons i guess) about his ex-wife and tate

ideas abt emma-may dixon (formerly mcgucket):

She's also Appalachian (I think this can be inferred with some confidence from her name lol)..... from Kentucky maybe.

She's an ecologist who studies sediment transport in rivers. She's a uni professor (has been at same place since the 80s) bc that is largely how getting tenure works as far as I'm aware.

-Tate's thing in this doc about being ashamed of being Smart and his choice to... run a fishing supplies shop are only partly because of complicated feelings about his dad. He saw the sort of social circles that come with academic/research work and NOPED out of there.

She went to the same college as Fiddleford and Stanford, and is about the same age as them (give or take 2 or 3 years). She and Fidds started dating near the end of their time there and got married maybe two years later (Tate was born shortly after that... he'd be 5ish while F was first in Gravity Falls).

-She and Ford met a few times but Ford was too self-absorbed and focused on his studies to really make any close friends during college aside from F. Maybe they hung out in a group once or twice.

She and Fidds had a pretty solid relationship before he disappeared. They both liked nerd junk. Lots of cheesy humor in the air. She's occasionally frustrated by him running off to the garage to work on something for hours on end without pausing to deal with stuff around the house or telling her at all where he is, but it's not a huge thing (and she gets very into her own work too, for that matter).

She's generally a sweet person if pretty achievement-oriented and a bit high-strung. Always gives students extensions if they ask for them.

She tried to make things work w Fiddleford for maybe a year after he started really losing his grip (he stopped calling home and it freaked her out), she made weekend trips up to Gravity Falls while a friend watched Tate and tried to spend time with him, and tried to coax him into coming home. At some point Fiddleford didn't recognize her until after she burst into tears because of something odd/callous he said while disoriented. That wasn't the turning point for her but it was close to it. She divorced him maybe a year and a half after he stopped calling home.

(Side note: why didn't Fiddleford go home after leaving the portal project...? I get that he wasn't in a calm state of mind at the time but being in the town at all was clearly causing him a LOT of stress. Mr Hirsch answer me this.)

She remarried maybe 8 years after that. Tate does not get along well with this stepdad.

- She's also divorced this guy by the time canon rolls around. Bad luck with men in general :(. She has a good network of close work friends at least.

Tate moved to Gravity Falls when he was about 24 and occasionally updates her on how Fiddleford is doing when he calls home. It's never a pleasant time for either of them.

-I vaguely like the idea of Tate being at least somewhat involved in the Society of the Blind Eye and not knowing anything about his dad's role in it (since it had been years since Fiddleford was actually coordinating anything by the time he moved there, I imagine). Just a little jumping-off point for angst lol.

She still lives in California. She's possibly still working during canon but is probably retired in 2020.

After Weirdmaggedon, Fiddleford reaches out to her (eventually. he waits a while on this lol) and they work back up to a friendship that's not particularly close but still solid. Regardless she's RELIEVED to hear that he's more lucid through Tate, even before he reaches out himself.

Neither of them tell her most of the long story of what happened w Fiddleford (she picked up some fragmented context while trying to keep things together in the 80s but he was already so scattered that she doesn't know anything about the portal) or what happened with the town in general or what caused Fiddleford getting healthier. This is in part because of the 'lets not talk abt it lol' ordinance, in part because Tate couldn't really properly explain if he tried and in part bc Fiddleford REALLY struggles to recount the early years with the memory gun even on good days. This frustrates her but she gets that it seems to be mostly because of the difficulty in saying the thing and not because they want to keep things from her.

(extra:) She ends up meeting Ford along with Fidds a few years after Weirdmaggedon and she's like Oh My Goodness Stanford Pines where have you been all these years! I havent heard anything about you since that project you wanted Fiddleford on :D and he's like 😶

(bonus if F and Ford are married at this point. or if it occurs AT their wedding haha)

#p #emma-may dixon #tate mcgucket #fiddleford hadron mcgucket #fingers crossed that linking to the lost legends doc doesnt break the tags lol #not putting this in the fiddauthor tag bc it would prob annoy ppl but know that at least the end has some fiddauthor flavor #im not actually sure if this was last week. my work scheduled me for like 2x the hours i signed up for the past two weeks LOL

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braindeadforiwa · 4 years

Text

Pizza and Wine

synposis : in which Teru finds out that he isn't even on your radar. Maybe he should be content with what he's already got. Maybe he can live with just being friends. based on a prompt from this post.

pairing : terushima yuuji x reader

WC : 1371

The pouring rain was a constant rush of sound behind Terushima. The old yellow sweatshirt he wore was soaked through, and his black joggers were in the same sorry state. By far the worst thing though was the wet socks. The squelch he felt with every step he'd taken made him want to crawl out of his skin.

The things I do for a friend in need, Terushima thought to himself. Ultimately he didn't really give a damn about the wet clothes. He was more concerned about you and your emotional state.

You'd been more or less ignoring his texts since yesterday. And he'd only bothered calling twice, but you immediately rejected those calls. Normally he would have let you be. After all, maybe you were just busy.

But call it a gut feeling, intuition about a close friend, or the fact the tone of your texts had changed -- Teru felt that he should go check on you regardless of your disinterest in speaking to him.

And that's why he now stood on your doorstep, box of pizza in one hand, bottle of wine in the other. Terushima kicked on your door again.

"I didn't get drenched walking to your apartment for you to say no to pizza," Terushima called through the closed door. "I have wine too."

Teru waited a beat longer before saying, "C'mon, I know you're sad so let me in, _____."

Just when Terushima was about to resign himself to eating pizza alone on the concrete floor, your door opened.

Well he was certainly right to have been worried. Even with the poor outdoor lighting Terushima could tell your eyes were red and puffy.

"Bro...you look like shit." Tact was certainly not Teru's strong suit. "Nothing a little food and wine can't help though."

You moved out of the way, and Teru strolled into your apartment. The place may as well have been Teru's second home. He was over to often that you'd given him a drawer for his spare clothes and toiletries. You'd reasoned it would be better then having to find him a ride home if both of you were drunk, not to mention most days he came over he'd be there until at least 3am.

The two of you met in college during your first semester, and for the past five years you hadn't left each others' sides. Most people often weren't convinced that you and Teru were only friends though. Which, understandable to a certain extent. Both you and Teru realized that people weren't convinced two people could be so close and not be dating. The intimacy you guys shared rivaled a handful of the relationships you'd witnessed in college.

That's not to say the idea of dating you had never crossed Teru's mind. Over the years, Teru had found himself wondering what it'd be like to date you. He imagined it wouldn't be a whole lot different than what you had now. Really the only difference he could think of was that he'd be able to kiss you. And kissing you certainly wasn't any sort of con in his book.

"Go get changed." Your voice carried the exhaustion he could lining your shoulders. "I'll get the food and stuff ready."

"Thanks," Teru said, ruffling your hair.

After drying off and changing, Terushima met you in the kitchen, a towel around his neck. You'd gotten glasses for the wine and had already started munching on a slice of pizza.

"So what happened?" Teru asked. He hopped onto the counter and you turned to face him. God, how much had you been crying? Face masks were definitely in your shared future.

"Always right for the throat with you."

"Well it's gonna suck talking about it no matter what, right?" When you didn't say anything Teru conceded. "But I guess I can let you get a glass or two of wine in your system first."

And for the next couple hours Teru did what he did best: he distracted you. He talked about his friends and a couple wild nights, he updated you on his family, and told you about some new clients he'd gotten this week. He got you talking about a new show you were both excited for and the newest chapter for a manga you both read. He'd even managed to get you to laugh a couple times.

At some point while reminiscing about college, you ended up doing face masks, and now you found yourself sat in front of the television. You were planted between Teru's legs on the floor as he combed through your hair and played with it.

As the conversation lulled and the movie continued on screen, Teru spoke up, his voice a little more gentle than usual. "So you wanna tell me what happened now?"

A beat, and then, "Maya broke up with me."

The pause of Teru's hand in your hair was the only form of shock he showed. Not because he expected it, but because he knew you didn't like people getting too riled up on your behalf. It drew too much attention to what you were feeling. "She say why?" he asked.

"Found someone up where she is," you said. The life had started fading out of you again. "Guess she got tired of the long distance thing."

Teru clenched his jaw. For the five years he'd known you, you'd dated Maya for four of them. Hell, things had always been going so well between you two that Teru assumed you and Maya would just get married. Even you had mentioned the possibility of marriage to Teru before.

"When'd things start going bad?" Teru asked.

"Couple months after she moved," you said. "Video calls just weren't cutting it anymore. I mean, why settle for that when you find someone you could be happy with that's also in the same city? At least that's what she said on the phone."

You let out a sigh, your body sagging. "I don't blame her though," you whispered. "I understand where she was coming from. Honestly....I hadn't been dong too well with the long distance thing either. But I'm still sad, you know? And frustrated. Like, so much time and effort is just gone now. Plus she at least has someone new. Meanwhile I'm just alone." You let your head fall to Teru's knee.

Though he could tell how taxing the conversation was on you, Teru was thankful to see that it seemed to be helping you. Getting your thoughts out of your head helped you work through things. It's something he'd noticed over the last few years. It helped you to slowly work your way back to yourself. And even though he knew you had a ways to go with properly healing, you were at least taking a step.

"Well, I may not be new but you still got me so you aren't actually alone." Teru grinned.

"I meant romantically, dumbass. Romantically I'm alone."

The grin faded from Teru's face. "I can be romantic."

"Teru, I love you, but you kinda suck at relationships," you said, turning to look at him. "You get spooked any time you think someone might be into you and then either distance yourself or completely ghost them."

Teru was quiet. You weren't wrong; he did get scared at the idea of being in a relationship. It wasn't a characteristic he often consciously thought about, but yeah...you were right. The idea of being emotionally intimate with people freaked him out when he knew that romantic feelings were involved. But...you already knew so much about him. You two had bared pieces of your souls to one another on multiple occasions. You knew more about him then anyone else probably did and you accepted every part of him. If it were you...well he didn't think he'd be as scared. If it were you he'd be willing to give it a shot.

But it seems for you that wasn't even an option.

His voice was full of faked nonchalance as he said, "Well, If you ever change your mind you know where to find me."

"Sure," you chuckled as you turned back to face the TV. "I'll keep it in mind."

#haikyuu #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fanfic #haikyuu headcanons #terushima yuuji #terushima x reader #yuuji terushima #haikyuu!!#terushima angst #hq headcanons #hq scenarios #hq imagines #ironic that this was a fluff prompt and u got angst instead #at least it's not heavy angst ya feel #but anyway #i want teru to play with my hair

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colony22graphics · 4 years

Photo

Welcome to Colony 22′s Holiday AU Bingo Challenge!

Since the last AU Bingo board was such a hit, we decided now would be the perfect time for volume 2—holiday style! It’s our hope that this little (totally optional) game will help give you fun bursts of muse during a quieter season on the dash, and lots of engaging things to explore, whether you’re interested in canon self-paras or headcanons, non-canon AU threads, or playful graphics, for yourself or for others!

Of course as it is not actually December in the RP verse, the ‘holiday’ theme is mostly for us muns, but is also intentionally vague—you may explore any holiday, family gathering, religious or non-religious tradition that strikes your fancy or that inspires you based on the tiles above! (i.e. in the RP verse, it’s actually around Passover time, so you may prefer to explore something along those themes, or any other holiday your character(s) would have participated in—or even decidedly not participated in). I also know snow and winter and some of the traditions references don’t apply to everyone for the December holidays, but feel free to get creative and explore them in whatever way you like!

How it Works

Each square on the board has a theme that you can incorporate into any kind of creative work you wish! The WHITE tiles (trope themes) are specifically AU, and are intended for any written or other creative works that involve other characters from the RP but are intentionally an Alternate Universe and therefore non-canon. (Of course, mentions/inclusions of characters other than your own in self-paras etc will require the consent of other muns!) The BLUE tiles, however, are WORD PROMPTS and can also be used to explore canon things, including flashbacks/self-paras, moodboards, headcanons, etc. (If you choose to do any of these blue tile word prompts as AUs instead, then be sure it’s clearly labelled as such!)

Additionally, for the AU Themes, if you are interested in writing threads with other players, you are certainly welcome to do them as paras (might be a great opportunity if you need to up your para counts) but you are also welcome to explore chat threads—and here’s a fun kicker: if you wish, you may choose alternate faceclaims for the threads, if the AU involves any age changes (your character as a kid or teenager, or perhaps your character older and married or so on and so forth!) But of course, this is totally optional!

Non-Written Creations

As all media rules still apply, the following submissions should be submitted to the Graphics Blog:

gif sets

graphics

visual artwork (i.e. sketches, drawings, paintings etc etc)

video edits

playlists (with cover art)

[ As always, you will be properly credited for all your work, and you are always welcome to add your own credit text in the description of your submission and format it any way you like! ]

[ submit here ]

Written Work

Written work (self-paras, para or chat threads, poetry, miscellaneous ~experimental~ wordy things) can be posted on your own character account as long as it is clearly marked in the title to indicate that it’s an AU bingo activity or canon flashback/word prompt/headcanon etc and everything should be tagged with #col22bingo, so that the mods can easily locate it and there is no confusion. Feel free also to track the tag!

Please also note in the TITLE (and separately in tags if you wish) which square the submission/creation is for. Some of them are going to be super obvious, but some may not be, and it’ll make things a lot easier for the mods to track if you title and tag them appropriately!

Some Theme Examples

As you can see, most of the categories are pretty self explanatory, but we thought a couple of them would benefit from a bit of clarification, so:

National Lampoon AU: Inspired by the classic Christmas film “National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation” this tile is basically looking for anything involving family gatherings and the chaos/absurdity/disaster that often comes with it. First holiday shared with the crazy in-laws? Family members or exes who absolutely can’t be in the same room but are in the same room? Over crowded homes with cousins and uncles sleeping on couches and air-mattresses? Disastrous cooking or decorating or gathering fiascos? Basically, you name it, and we’ll be here for it—with popcorn.

Home Alone AU: A Macaulay Culkin style adventure—feel free to explore the ‘getting left behind at the airport’ element, the ‘going ham on home intruders’ element, any creative variation of such scenarios, or all of the above! This might be an example of one that works well as a crossover idea!

Holiday “Spirits” AU: Get into the Holiday Spirit by breaking out those Holiday Spirits!! As in, any scenario involving getting tipsy (or downright sloshed) on eggnog or liqueur or wine (the list goes on and on.) This doesn’t have to be your character, of course, it can be any combination of scenarios, just something about celebratory drinks (or lack there of!) Reminder to please tag any triggers where it might be appropriate!

Pantomime AU: A very British Christmas tradition of comedic, fantastical stage performances often based on well known children’s stories, with encouraged (and silly) interactions from the audience. If you’re not British, but you’ve ever been to a Rocky Horror performance, it might be a little bit like that. Read about this fabulous and fun tradition here.

"The tree” AU: This one is a bit more Christmas specific, but any scenario involving getting a tree—whether it be buying a real one from a market, fetching one from the woods and bringing it home, putting up a fake one, decorating, arguing... and of course, if you’re looking for chaos, any fiascos that may come with any of these scenarios!

Closing Details

Just like last time, this is purely for fun and there is zero pressure to participate if it doesn’t tickle your fancy, but if you do want to, you can track your progress on the board located on the graphics blog here. (We will update as frequently as we can, but it may take up to a day or two for your results to appear!)

During the course of this challenge, we will post updates whenever someone achieves a line, (or if by some miracle, someone goes for a blackout!) There are no prizes, but there are definitely bragging rights. For the time being, the end date of this challenge is TBD, but it will likely last through January. It doesn’t feel particularly necessary to close these things super quickly, but we may at some point stop tracking the results, and we’ll let you know when that happens!

As always, if you have any questions at all about the game, submission types or any of the AU themes or prompts, please hit us up on the main blog ask and we’ll be glad to help! We will tag all posts and answers regarding this challenge with col22bingo so you can easily find it in the tags or on the main blog!

And finally, to every member of this little star RP fam, new and old and everything in between, thank you for an amazing year. Though 2020 was rough on all accounts and for everyone, this community and you fabulous people helped to provide an oasis of safety and imagination to escape to when things on the outside got bad. I know I speak for just about every last one of us when I say I seriously don’t know where I would have been all year without you guys. All the mods and I are so, so grateful for your continued, absolutely staggering loyalty and commitment. So here’s to another incredible year at Colony 22! Let’s finish off our 7th year right!

Lots of love, and have fun!!

Col22!Mods

#col22bingo #literate rp #original rp #mature rp #bio rp

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wolfpawn · 4 years

Text

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 165

Chapter Summary -Tom and Danielle go to Suffolk for their second anniversary as a couple. While there, Tom realises that Danielle has already gotten started on some of the wedding plans which results in them setting a date.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long. This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe @wolfsmom1 @black-ninja-blade

Danielle bit her lips together as she felt herself reach her peak, forcing herself to not grip Tom’s hair too tightly as he made her feel so good. She gasped as the final waves of her orgasm were joined by a kiss that was given to her core before Tom crawled over her body, smiling cheekily as he came face to face with her. “I love you,” She smiled, feeling worn from their activities. “As I love you, my beautiful Elle.” He leant down and kissed her, not overly surprised when she leant up and deepened the kiss. “You are well and truly back to form,” He smirked as he forced their lips apart for a moment.

“Three times since we got here, that’s not bad by any accounts,” Danielle agreed.

They had decided to spend their second anniversary in Suffolk, away from the crowds of London and spending time with Diana. Tom brought Danielle for a lovely meal in Manzoni’s, the restaurant that led to the awkward first kiss of theirs and afterwards, insisted on kissing her on the doorstep, though this time, the kiss did not end there and he ensured she had an incredibly pleasurable evening after. Of late, after recovering from her Ironman, Danielle’s libido seemed to go back to her pre-training and pre-maternal urge norm, much to hers and indeed Tom’s delight.

The next morning led to slight bouts of sloth on their behalf before amourous attentions once more, leading them to almost lunchtime before they forcibly extracted themselves from the bed.

They were drinking tea as their porridge cooked when Diana knocked on the back door and entered. “Finally up, I see.” “We are embracing the holiday feeling,” Tom smirked back, going to the pot of tea they had decided would be a better idea to make and poured her a cup.

“How was Manzoni’s?” “That new chef you mentioned was working, you’re right, it’s even better now, somehow,” Danielle commented from the cooker.

“He is good, isn’t he?” Diana smiled. “So, have you two started talking properly yet?” Tom chuckled at his mother. “Are you just here to badger us about it?” “The sooner you plan it, the sooner it is planned.”

“You sound like Danielle when she is talking about her safety stuff.” Tom eyed his fiance warily as he said that. She gave him a warning glance with a slight smirk with it.

“And?” “We have decided on Ireland, in Elle’s parish church from her childhood. She explained it holds a really important place in her family and it is small and quaint and away from prying eyes. It will be lovely, so it makes a lot of sense.”

“How small?” “The maximum capacity is about a hundred plus people, nothing extravagant,” Danielle explained. “Doing approximate numbers for the church part of things, we are looking at around thirty under capacity but that’s good because we know we’re forgetting a few people.”

“Right, names are important, have you a list started?” “No,” Tom looked awkwardly.

Danielle left the room for a moment before returning with the backpack she had received for her Ironman, taking out a notepad she had in it. “I have all of my side and friends done. I have started your side too, but I know there is an aunt or uncle somewhere missing because the numbers aren’t right and I would wager you have a friend from school you will think to invite.”

Tom looked at her shocked at the organisation she had clearly put into the page of names, making notes who they were and of any conflicts, some may have, mostly referencing her aunt Bernie. “I...I was going to say I’m surprised, but no, how could I be, this is you through and through.

Danielle laughed at him. “I also took note that we will have to arrange buses from the airports and spoke to the local B&B, they will book out the dates of our choosing for us, if we give them a date soon, so I also called the parish office and got the dates the church is free on the timeline we are looking at, so we have to arrange that. I think we will have to go over a week or two in advance to ready the last of everything and for the marriage course, of course. Though, I booked that and flights for January, that gives time for your other commitments, Ace Con and whatnot.” She explained.

Tom simply stared at her in shock. He had asked had she looked into one or two things, thinking that perhaps she would begin preparation, he had not thought for one second she would be so thorough so quickly. “I...I feel somewhat unprepared in all of this.” “Course, what course?” Diana asked curiously.

“In Ireland, I am not sure if it is the same here, if you want to marry in a Catholic Church, you have to do a marriage course with Accord, it’s like this religious church-related family service, so I booked that. It’s nothing really, just preparing you for down the road, times of trouble, if you want kids, the usual marriage stuff. It’s more a box-ticking exercise really, though if you haven’t talked about this stuff before now or you haven’t had bad patches, are you really ready for marriage?” Danielle questioned.

“I think they are becoming something here, not obligatory, mind.”

“Well, they are at home and with our schedules, I thought it a good idea to plan it for then.” “What is on the cards to say you are both busy for that?” Diana asked curiously, always eager to know what her children were doing workwise. “I have a few things I will be involved in, going a few places, nothing too long, quick stops around Europe,” Danielle informed her. “Usually three to five day things and paperwork in between. And a trip to the US for a meeting or two, obviously.”

Diana nodded, knowing that there would be some form of plan such as this already before looking to her son. “I am doing a stint in one of Harold Pinter’s plays in London, Betrayal, as the name suggests, it is not the most cheerful of work but an interesting piece,” He explained.

“And are you the betrayer or the betrayed?” She asked curiously.

“I play the poor betrayed husband,” Tom pouted as he spoke.

“So plenty of confused and angry fans after this,” Danielle joked.

“I am glad you enjoy my torture.” Danielle stuck her tongue out at him playfully, causing him to chuckle. “I guess we better book a date so while we have a chance.”

“I guess we should.” A thought occurred to Tom. “What about that B&B?” “What do you mean?” “Well, they will have the dates.”

“Tom, I warned you before, Irish people are not the least bit bothered by this sort of thing and there’s not a snowball’s chance in hell that a local run B&B from my hometown, with kids that went to school with me, who have used my dad’s vet practice since before I was born are going to give my wedding dates to some foreign shites trying to make money off us.”

“You are putting a lot of faith in people that you have not known really for at least a decade,” Tom warned, having had more than one person he thought he could trust show that his trust had been poorly placed in the past.

“It’s a way of life in Connemara and indeed most of the non-city areas of Ireland. You say nothing and deny all knowledge of other people’s business to non-locals, as I said it's a local family business and if they can't look after the locals, well, Ireland is the place that coined the phrase ‘boycott’. It's one thing to talk among ourselves but to outsiders, that's just not done.”

“So, you would threaten them?”

“Ironically, it would not be me or putting them as I don't live there anymore, it will be those local people that they call their friends, the local GAA people, the lads that went to the pub with my dad, the women that went to the dances with Mam. It’s just an unwritten rule you don't embarrass yourself or your family and you definitely do not bring a bad name to the parish. Whatever about the generation I'm from but my dad's generation, Mr O'Leary and his wife, they never would risk her name or insult their family in such a manner,” Danielle explained. “Sometimes the anonymity of the city has its advantages though, growing up we always knew what our neighbours were doing but at the same time we were always there for one another when it was needed.”

“Will they have a problem with those coming from England for it?” Tom asked.

“Why would they? We're bringing them paying customers, we’re not there to bother anyone. We don't automatically just decide to hate all British people, that's not an economically sound practice. We are just mildly suspicious as a default setting which is healthy really, all things considered.”

Tom knew before he even saw her face that Danielle was sticking out her tongue at her own playful comment. “Behave,” He warned her, his own playful smile evident. “What dates are available? The sooner I tell Luke the better.” Danielle went to the page where she had put all of the information the parish secretary has provided her with. Tom studied the dates as well as taking out his phone and checking the calendar and within 40 seconds, he placed an ‘X’ beside three of the dates.

“Are they the ones that are acceptable or are they ‘the never gonna happen’ dates?” Danielle asked curiously as she looked at the dates he had put the “x's” next to, all three were not dates that she could think of for particular reasons as being an issue.

“The latter.”

“Okay, so we work off the rest.”

“What about you, are you available every one of these dates?” Tom asked, doubtful that Danielle could be free for the entirety of the summer.

“The ones I was not available for, which were two dates, I didn't even write down. One is the all branch AGM, and the other is my mother’s anniversary. I know she would want me to get married but I could probably pretty much guarantee that she would not appreciate me doing so on her anniversary.” “No, that goes without saying,” Tom agreed. He looked over the dates a little bit more, Danielle noticed that he checked his phone for a moment before putting an ‘X’ beside another date. As soon as she looked at it she realised which date it was, she laughed. Tom looked at her worried as to a reaction. Seeing her laugh, he decided to check verbally. “You don't mind?”

“Not at all. I don't think it bodes well to take one of your favourite days of sport in the year from you,” She laughed. “And it's the height of the GAA season, so I can guarantee there won't be a single pub, hotel bar or restaurant that will be showing that over whatever GAA fixture is on for the day.” She tussles hair as she spoke.

Tom took her hand and put it to his lips, kissing it gently at her respect for his favourite sports day. “If it was the only viable day?”

“You said it does not suit you and there are six other days that are free and available, it's a non-issue.” She looked at the dates again. “If we choose the date before that takes place, I would assume, unless we go on a honeymoon of six days, that does not suit either. So how about, this one?” She pointed to the weekend after the final. “That way you can watch it or go and we can be to Ireland after?” “But you said you want to come over a fortnight in advance?” “I’m sure you can slip away for a weekend.”

“No, it's too close and I'm not leaving everything to you.” Tom looked at the dates that came after if he was honest, he thought them too far away. So instead, he looked at the only other available date before. “How about the June date?” Danielle looked at the piece of paper for a moment. “That’s only eight months away. Jesus, that's a terrifying thought. Has it really been 3 months since you asked me?”

“Time flies when you're having fun.” Tom beamed. “If it's too close then that's fine.” “No, let's go with that one.” Tom looked up at her. “Elle, if you want to take time to think about it.” Danielle’s response was not to argue but to instead to take out her phone, scroll through the contacts and bring up the number she needed. “I think June to be the best.” She showed him the number she was about to ring and when he gave a small nod she pressed the call button.

It only took three minutes between the secretary answering the phone and Danielle pressing the end call button. “It’s official, we are booked for June.” Danielle looked at Tom, who seemed somewhat shocked. “Second thoughts already?” “No, I just...In eight months, we’ll be…” Tom could barely compute what was happening. After all his planning, with all his thoughts on it, there was a date set to legally marry Danielle. It was almost unfathomable. “I can’t believe we have a date set.” He rose to his feet and leant in and kissed her. “Eight months will be an incredibly long and yet short time.” “With work, with plays and meetings, sets and meet and greets, we won’t see it pass by. It is strange to think, but by the time we book a reception, hotels and whatnot, by the time Emma and Jack organise a passport for Lucy and everything, eight months is nothing.” Tom frowned. “I thought you don’t need a passport to go to Ireland. I used my driving licence one weekend to get into Dublin for High Rise.” “You don’t under the Common Travel Area and all that but come Brexit, who knows, they already applied, just in case.” “I guess we will all need to be sure.” Diana took note to check her own when she went back to her own house. She beamed proudly at having urged her son and her future daughter-in-law into actually setting a date. “I will leave you to eat and do a few things. Don’t forget to book a venue next.” She instructed as she left.

With quick goodbyes, Danielle started thinking. “I genuinely cannot think of too many. I suppose if you want to be fancy, there is always Kylemore Abbey?”

Tom Googled the place and his brows rose. “It’s beautiful.” “Of course it is, it’s in Connemara, we don’t do things by halves.” She smiled, looking at the picture in front of them of the building. “It is only from the 1860s but it is beautiful, nonetheless.” “And they take weddings?” “For the right price, they will be more than happy to facilitate whatever we ask. The question becomes, are we willing to pay such prices?” Tom suspected that there would be a chance that Danielle would have an issue with such things. He had considered how to approach it but now was the best time. “Elle, Darling, I m not sure how often you are planning on doing this but I am very much only considering the once so we will do this right.”

“I just don’t want to waste money.” “Is it wasting it for us to have a lovely wedding day?” “It’s one day, I don’t…” Danielle inhaled deeply. Her fiance was a renowned actor and she knew that came with more money than sense. “Just nothing too insane.” “Elle, don’t force yourself into budgets. We are not going to do anything mad, even the ring is a family heirloom, we are not extravagant spenders, so if the hotel costs a bit, then fine. I doubt you plan on some mad dress.”

Danielle scoffed, “Valentino, Darling,” She impersonated the accentuated Cruella De Vil accent as she spoke. “Just a hundred thousand.”

Tom chuckled and shook his head. “If you wanted.” Danielle stared at him in horror. “Are you insane?”

“I just want you to be happy.” “Tom, here and now, I m saying this. This whole thing is not going to come within an ass’s roar of that sort of money. No, not happening. I will call it off it does.” “Looks like I found the ‘Get out of Jail Free’ Card.” Tom jested, rushing out of her reach before she could nudge him in retaliation. When she went over to him, he pulled her in against him. “How did I manage to find you, a sensible, beautiful, intelligent woman like you?”

“A sacrifice to an old God or two, I think.”

“Very possible.” He leant down and kissed her, wanting her to feel how intensely he loved her from it.

Pictures of Kylemore Abbey for reference

#I Hate You I Love You #Chapter 165 #tom hiddleston fic #tom hiddleston #wolfpawn

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