#i was wondering to myself as i finished this why i drew such a chilly portrait in june

[avpol]

jötunness

[lemoncrushh]

Too Far From Texas | Chapter Sixteen

STORY PAGE

Word Count: 5641

I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, my lips and dress a few shades darker red than my hair. I’d chosen the dress from my suitcase after Harry had shooed me upstairs and insisted I relax in the tub for a bit while he finished preparing the dinner. I had no idea how fancy I should dress up, but I figured if he was going to so much trouble on the dinner, it must be something special, so I wanted to look nice.

I took a deep breath. I smelled like the lavender aroma of the lotion I’d lathered across my body, both relaxing and intoxicating. My hair was pinned back loosely, soft curls cascading down my shoulders and back. I smiled at my reflection as I heard a sound coming from the bedroom. Gently opening the bathroom door, I saw Harry placing two plates on a round table covered in a white tablecloth, the soft glow of candles flickering in the center. Behind him was the first spark of a fire coming to life in the fireplace. I heard the light sound of piano music that seemed to be coming from Harry’s phone that he’d placed on the nightstand. He grinned when he saw me.

“Bit too chilly now to eat outside,” he explained, gesturing to the cart that seemed to hold the food. “I reckoned you might get too cold. So I brought everything in here.”

I nodded silently as his eyes caught sight of my ensemble and he began to step towards me.

“And now seeing you in that dress…I believe I was right.”

“Sorry,” I murmured, rubbing my bare left arm with my right hand. “I wasn’t thinking about wearing a cocktail dress outdoors. But I could get my coat.”

“Don’t you dare,” Harry shook his head. He reached his hand out to me then. “Come. Sit.”

As he held the chair out for me, I got a good look at him. He wore his signature black jeans with a silky navy and maroon shirt. And he smelled like heaven.

“When did you change?” I asked him.

“Took a quick shower while you were in the bath.”

“Oh,” I mouthed, a little disappointed that he hadn’t joined me. Maybe next time, I thought. There was certainly room for two in there.

I watched Harry uncork a bottle of wine, pouring it into two glasses. I expected him to make a toast or something, so I raised my glass, but instead he set his down beside an empty plate and walked around the cart.

“Hope you like Beef Wellington,” he said, lifting the cover off a platter.

“You didn’t,” I remarked with wide eyes.

“I did,” he nodded as he wiggled his brows. “And it looks pretty amazing, I might add.”

I giggled at his charm and the way he drew out the words ‘pretty amazing’.

“It smells amazing,” I commented, as he took my plate to lay a slice of the delicious looking entree onto it.

I enjoyed watching him serve me with determination, his tongue poking out the side of his mouth like a little kid concentrating on building his Lego house. When he laid the plate down in front of me, I immediately felt my mouth water. Next to the Beef Wellington were potatoes and asparagus. It looked better than any meal I could have or had ever prepared myself, and it looked just as appetizing as anything I’d seen in a five-star restaurant’s menu - not that I’d been to any.

“Do you cook a lot?” I finally asked when Harry sat down with his meal.

“Sometimes,” he shrugged, taking his wine glass. “Not usually like this though.”

“Oh,” I sounded, lifting my glass again. “Cheers.”

“No, wait,” he stopped me before I clinked my glass with his. “I wanna make a toast.”

“Sorry.” I was nervous. I had no idea why. But I could feel the sudden butterflies in my chest.

Harry scooted his chair closer to mine and took my hand. As his eyes locked on me, I knew I was done for.

“A toast,” he began, his voice low but clear, “to the most wonderful woman I’ve ever met. I feel so lucky to have her here, sat next to me right now, looking so…incredibly beautiful. I want this week to be special. Because she deserves it.”

I couldn’t breathe. I felt as though my tongue was frozen and my voice was useless. I just sat there for a moment or two staring at him until he finally smiled and allowed his glass to clink with mine.

“Cheers, baby,” he said with a chuckle.

“Harry…” I finally managed to squeak.

“Hmm?”

His hand that was still holding mine ran up my wrist to my arm, giving me goosebumps. When it reached my shoulder I released a puff of breath, feeling myself relax from his touch.

“Cheers,” I whispered.

Harry’s dimples made their glorious appearance as he took his glass and lifted it to his lips.

We shared Harry’s spectacular meal and finished off the bottle of wine. He made me laugh several times, reminding me that I had no reason to be nervous. I loved being with him. It was easy. It was effortless. It was like being with your best friend, but better. It was…like being in love.

The thought drifted through my subconscious as Harry’s playlist changed from the soft piano music to oldies like Sam Cooke, Marvin Gaye and Otis Redding. I enjoyed the low romantic mood; it fit well with the ambiance. Harry’s lovely face seemed to glow in the candle and firelight. The wine was making me tipsy and weak in the knees, not to mention the caress of Harry’s hand on my knee underneath the table.

“That was delicious, sugar,” I grinned at him. “You could be a chef…you know if this singing thing doesn’t pan out.”

He smirked and squeezed my knee. I giggled, pushing his hand away.

“Hey now,” he protested, returning his hand where he wanted it. “None of that.”

“None of what?”

“’s too late to start teasing me now. I’ve had my hand there for twenty minutes at least.”

I threw my head back and laughed heartily.

“God, you’re beautiful,” exclaimed Harry.

“Am I?” I teased a bit, tilting my head so my hair brushed across my shoulder.

“Mmhm. I like you in red. It fits you. And your lips look like cherries.”

I leaned in closer to him. “Then why haven’t you kissed them?”

“Because I’m a fucking idiot.”

Harry lifted his hand to my jaw and pressed his lips to mine. I heard a low rumble rise from his throat as I opened my mouth to him and he slid his tongue inside. We tasted the wine from each other, our lips taking turns. I threw my arms around his neck as he pulled me into his lap. His other hand found my knee again, this time pushing the hem of my dress up. I slid my own hand down his chest, tucking it underneath his shirt that was unbuttoned. I could feel his heartbeat as his fingers lightly ghosted my thigh. He seemed to be playing his own little teasing game, letting his fingertips inch closer and closer to my panty line before sliding back down to my knee. I whined against his mouth, my hips shifting in his lap.

“Harry,” I whispered when our lips separated. I fingered the cross around his neck.

“Hmm?”

“Are we still taking our time?”

“Um…” His gaze broke from mine and he looked around the room.

I sighed, releasing my hands from him. But Harry only pulled me closer.

“No, you’re…please don’t…don’t think…”

“Don’t think what?” I asked.

Harry chest fell and color rose to his cheeks. If it hadn’t been for the wine, I would think he was blushing.

“I do wanna take my time,” he declared. “But not…”

I stared at him incredulously. What the hell was he getting at? Finally, he licked his lips and chuckled.

“I want you so bad right now. But I kinda wanna put all this away first,” he gestured at the table.

I let out the loudest cackle I’d probably ever released. I even surprised myself.

“Oh my God, Harry! You adorable, domestic sweetheart!”

Harry echoed my laugh, shaking his head.

“I just can’t, baby,” he explained. “I wanna take my time with you, loving you right. And I can’t do it knowing this food is sitting out.”

“You’re so fucking cute,” I tapped his nose before rising from his lap. “C’mon, I’ll help you, even though I’m a little drunk.”

“No, it’s okay, I got it,” he laughed.

“No, you don’t. I’m helping.”

Reaching for his plate, I smiled at him and gave him a wink. He patted my behind again like he had in the kitchen, and I playfully wiggled it.

“So cute,” I mouthed, taking my own plate and heading for the stairs.

I made the mistake of allowing Harry to open another bottle of wine while we were in the kitchen. It didn’t take us very long to put away the rest of the food and place the dishes in the dishwasher, so he uncorked another bottle and offered me a glass. I had no idea what brand it was, but it was red, and it was delicious.

“My turn to make a toast,” I announced.

“Alright,” Harry grinned.

I leaned back against the kitchen counter, licking my lips, pretending to gather my poetic words. But to be honest, I was a little too tipsy to really think that much. So, I just said what first popped into my head.

“To Lorelei,” I said, lifting my glass. Harry raised his brows. “For not spilling the beans about her little secret. And for being the best friend I could ask for. ‘Cause if it wasn’t for her, I might not be here right now.”

I stepped closer to Harry, reaching my hand out to his stomach.

“In England,” I continued, tugging on his shirt, “in this kitchen, with my sexy boyfriend, having the most incredible night of my life.”

A beautiful smile slowly spread across Harry’s lips before he took my glass from me.

“Wait,” I protested. “We haven’t said ‘cheers’ or anything yet.”

“I got a better idea,” he growled, taking me in his arms. “Let’s go back upstairs.”

“With or without the wine?” I inquired with a cheeky grin.

“We can bring the wine.” Harry kissed my lips softly. “I’m just…ready to start taking my time with you.”

“And loving me right?” I quoted his words.

“So right,” he replied, his breath in my ear before his lips met it.

I slid my hands down his chest and stomach again, letting them fall in his hands. He kissed the backs of them, then turned and grabbed our wine glasses. I took mine from him, my other hand in his. He guided me up the stairs and to our beautiful room at the end of the hall with the fire still roaring, casting a shadow against the opposite wall. The sky beyond the french doors was a midnight blue, the moon reflecting on the lake below.

“I’ll be right back,” I smiled at Harry, setting my wine glass on the nightstand. He returned my grin and sat on the bed, kicking off his boots while I headed to the bathroom.

I took just a few minutes to freshen up before rejoining him. When I opened the door, he was sitting up in the bed, his back against the satin headboard. In his left hand was his glass of wine, in his right he was scrolling through his phone. I stood next to the bed as Sam Cooke finished one of his melodic phrases. Then I sat down next to Harry, pulling my dress up slightly to adjust myself. I watched him as he tapped his phone a few times and the mood music changed to Melody Gardot.

“Hey, that’s our song,” I commented.

“Is it?” Harry smirked, setting the phone on the nightstand and handing me my glass.

“Whenever you need some company…” I sang along.

Harry beamed at me, scooting closer. I watched him watch my mouth as I continued to sing. It was like a little seduction, tempting him with my lips. And he was enjoying it.

“I love when you sing,” he murmured softly, leaning closer to me.

I teased him by taking a sip of wine, resisting his unspoken request to kiss me.

“You like when I sing this song,” I remarked.

“Well, it’s sexy. Can you blame me?”

I shook my head, raising my hand to lightly brush his lips with my fingertips.

“Whenever you need a soft touch…”

Harry’s eyelids fluttered closed as I finished singing along to Melody, caressing is face - his chin, his cheek, his nose, his jaw… I sighed when the song ended and transitioned into one by another jazz vocalist. I stared at Harry, his face beautiful and calm until he blinked and opened his eyes. I giggled.

“Where’d you go?”

“I dunno,” he replied, his deep voice vibrating through the room. Clearing his throat, he lifted his glass. “Um…let’s finish that toast. To Lorelei.”

I smiled, clinking my glass with his.

“And to you,” I added as he took a sip.

“Me?”

“Mmhm.”

This time I took his glass and set them both on my nightstand. Harry watched me as I turned back to him, his eyes twinkling. I licked my lips, dragging my teeth across the bottom one as I slid even closer to him, as close as humanly possible.

“You thought this all up,” I explained. “You planned it and got Lor’s help without me knowing. You’re so sweet…” I kissed his lips, “so thoughtful…” I kissed him again, “so sexy…”

Harry moaned at the last kiss, taking my face in his hands. His tongue darted into my mouth, telling me he was indeed ready to continue our evening, and what I was longing for.

His fingers found the back of my halter dress, the clasps on my neck. He unhooked it with ease, his lips never leaving mine until the top of my dress fell to my waist, exposing my breasts. I looked at him seductively, licking my lips as I lifted my hand and released the clip in my hair, letting my curls cascade down the sides of my face.

Harry groaned low and kissed me again, his hands cupping my chest. He allowed me to shift underneath him so that I lay on the pillow. As his mouth made its way down my neck, I fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. When I got the last button unfastened, I raked my fingers down his torso, feeling him tremble slightly. I liked that my touch received such a reaction from him. I knew that he did the same to me.

He sat up then, to shake out of his shirt, letting it fall to the ottoman at the foot of the bed. I thought he would return his attention to my chest that was already aching for his touch, but instead he focused on my feet. Sensually, he began to unbuckle the straps on my shoes - if you can call unbuckling sensual. At least I thought it was. I watched his plump lips, his heavy eyelids as he slid the first shoe off my foot, dropping it on the floor. He massaged my foot gently for a bit before changing to the second foot, giving it the same treatment.

“Mmmm,” I sounded as he squeezed.

“Feel good?” he asked.

“Yes. Very nice.”

The corner of his mouth curved up as he lifted my leg and lightly kissed my ankle. I let out a little schoolgirl giggle which made him grin wider, his hand sliding up the inside of my calf to my knee. He then crawled back up the bed, hovering over me once again.

“Let’s get this off now, yeah?”

He tugged at my dress, but I lifted my hips.

“It zips in the back, sugar,” I offered.

He rolled his eyes in embarrassment, and I giggled again, reaching behind me.

“No, let me. Please.”

I gave him the honors, and in return received joy in watching him de-clothe me. I shimmied slightly to allow the dress to slide down my hips and legs before Harry draped it across the ottoman, on top of his shirt. As I laid in my matching red panties, Harry stared at me for what seemed like forever. I could hear our breathing in sync, even before he touched me again.

“Is this a staring contest?” I teased.

“No,” he grinned, his dimple mocking me as though it held his thoughts.

“You’re not changing your mind are you?” I dropped my hands next to my head, my hair sprawled out around me. The way he was looking at me, admiring my nearly naked body made me feel beautiful, sexy.

“No way,” he whispered, shifting on the bed.

He settled between my legs, the weight of his hips hitting me where I wanted him. I breathed out a satisfied moan. His upper body hovered over me, his eyes a deeper green than before. His fingertips tickled my left palm, silently flirting with me before he slid his fingers through mine.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he declared.

“So are you,” I said, sliding my other hand up his inked arm.

He leaned down and kissed me again, slowly but deeply. When I was nearly out of breath, I reached between us, desperate to get him out of his jeans.

“Not yet, baby,” he stopped me.

I whined, making him smirk. He shook his head, his lips brushing against mine. It was my turn to tremble.

His beautiful, big hands cupped my breasts again, his thumbs running back and forth across my nipples. As soon as I moaned again, he took one into his mouth, sucking eagerly. I cursed under my breath, wanting simultaneously to watch his seduction, but also shut my eyes and revel in the sensation. I ended up choosing the latter. When he moved to the other nipple, however, I couldn’t help but catch a fistful of his hair, grasping at him for dear life.

“Harry…” I gasped.

“Yeah, baby,” he cooed. “‘m right here.”

Though his words made little sense, I understood. He was taking care of me. Like I deserved. Like I’d needed for so long. I stared at the fire for a moment as the heat rose between my legs. I needed him to touch me there. But I tried to be patient.

I heard the music change again then to another by Melody Gardot, one I recognized.

Love me like a river does…cross the sea…

I let out a long sigh, stretching my arms up above my head as Harry continued to play me like a delicate instrument. His lips traveled down my stomach, his hands on my hips. I began to wonder if Harry had consciously and deliberately created the playlist, or if it was just random. But the song was fitting.

Baby, don’t rush…you’re no waterfall…love me, that is all…

He had said he wanted to take his time. And he was. Like a painter, choosing the right canvas and oils, mixing and placing the colors to create just the right portrait. I was his still-life, his muse.

His lips made it to the edge of my panties, and I trembled again. Harry lifted my left leg and nipped at my inner thigh. Then he did the same to the other leg. I bit my lip when his breath blew across my clothed center, teasing me with his kisses, back and forth.

“Fuck, Harry,” I groaned.

I heard a tiny sound come from him, no doubt one of pride for making me want him so bad. He knew was he was doing to me. And he liked it.

I jutted my hips out to him until he finally took the edges of my panties and pulled them down my hips and off, tossing them on the floor, not with my dress. I caught the tiny smirk on his face before he licked his lips and looped his arms around my legs.

I’d already known this man’s mouth was magical. But after such anticipation, to finally feel it between my legs was like a dam being broken.

Baby, don’t rush…you’re no waterfall…

Oh, but you’re wrong, Melody. The not rushing brings the waterfall. Or so I thought.

I felt like I could come with just one lick from his tongue. But it seemed the more he touched me, the more resistance my body gave. We both seemed to be playing an unspoken game. He teased me until he finally gave me what I wanted, only to draw out the end result longer than I’d anticipated.

I moaned his name several times, however, along with God’s. He tasted me like I was his favorite dessert, taking his time to savor it. He licked my clit delicately, slowly as I writhed underneath him. Then he sped up until I felt myself reach the edge, only for him to slow down and concentrate elsewhere.

I felt his fingers slip into me with ease. His mouth taking a break, Harry rubbed my clit with his thumb. I cursed again as he moved faster, kissing my skin above and around my entrance. My breathing was jagged, my limbs heavy with anticipation of the orgasm.

But still…it wasn’t time.

Pulling his fingers out, Harry brought them to his mouth. “So good,” he commented.

I stared at him incredulously as he rose from the bed and removed his jeans and underwear. Opening the drawer of the nightstand, he produced a condom and rolled it up his length. My chest rose and fell as he returned to the bed, once again situating himself between my thighs. Then he slid his fingers up my slit, soaking his fingers before running them across the head of his cock. He aimed it at my entrance, pushing just slightly. I reached for him as he lowered his body onto mine, kissing me gently.

“Stacey…” he moaned so low it was almost inaudible.

He moved inside me slowly. I liked it at first. It was sweet and gentle, and I could stare into his eyes as I grabbed his hips. In and out. A little deeper each time.

I lifted my legs so I could feel him more, hoping he would start to move faster, but he didn’t. He kept the same pace. In and out. Back and forth.

“You feel so good,” he breathed, his eyes on me.

I gripped his hips harder, bucking against him so he’d increase his pace. Finally, he did, kissing me hard, biting my lips. I moaned against his mouth. I felt myself reaching my high. The music had stopped, the only sounds were our bodies, our breaths, and the crackle of the fire.

“H-harry…” I panted. “Please.”

His wet lips met my jaw as he continued to thrust deeper, bit by bit, agonizingly teasing my most tender spot.

“Please,” I repeated, my voice raspy, my throat dry as a desert. My fingernails dug into the flesh that covered his shoulders as though I was holding on for dear life.

“Please what, baby?” he asked in a near whisper.

I whined my response, throwing my head back and lifting my hips. I could feel him, all of him, as deep as he could go. My toes curled as they grabbed the sheet beneath me. Harry chuckled low, lifting his head to look at my face.

“You want me to make you come?”

Every nerve ending in my body awoke then at his question. I let out a loud moan as I raked my nails down his back, and he began to pump faster.

“Oh God.”

“Yeah. Does my baby wanna come?”

The sensual sound of his voice charged by his provocative inquiry pushed me to the edge. My legs trembled as he thrust again, a cry escaping my throat.

“Ohhhh…”

“That’s it, my love.”

I saw stars. I momentarily lost my voice and was sure my heart stopped beating as my body shook underneath his. We lay still for a few moments, the only sound that of my breathing as it slowed. Then I heard Harry’s voice as he cooed in my ear.

“So beautiful…”

His breath tickled my skin as he made his way down my neck and back up.

“So sexy…”

“Mmm,” I sounded when his lips met mine.

“Love to make you feel good. And the sounds you make.”

I stared at him as he rose from me and pulled out, his erection still apparent.

“Now I want you to do something for me,” he said, his voice so seductive it sounded like warm honey.

I nodded as I licked my lips. It was my turn to make him come. Harry lied down beside me on his back and reached for me.

“Ride me,” he growled.

I grinned at him, happy to oblige. But when I lifted my leg to swing it over his torso, he stopped me.

“Nuh uh,” he gestured with his hand for me to turn around. “Other way.”

I raised my brows and bit my bottom lip before doing as he asked…or rather, demanded. I didn’t know I could feel so full of him until I straddled him backwards, the sweet sting making me catch my breath. I could hear Harry hiss in a breath of his own as I began to move. Then his hands found my ass, caressing it gently before squeezing and spreading the cheeks apart.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he moaned.

I swallowed hard as I stared at the roaring fire, beads of sweat dripping between my breasts. I could already feel myself nearing my peak again.

“Ah, shit baby, you feel so fucking good!” he shouted, grabbing my hips. “You’re gonna make me come so hard.”

My knees were about to give out as I rode him faster, and I might have collapsed if it hadn’t been for Harry sitting up. Just as I cried out from both pleasure and exhaustion, I felt his chest against my back, his arm looped around me.

“Oh God, Stacey,” he growled in my ear. “Do you feel me?”

“Yes,” I managed to breathe out. “So good.”

“‘m so close,” he added, his other hand slipping down my stomach. “But I want you to come again with me.”

All I could do was nod as his finger rubbed my clit causing me to moan once again. My movements were no longer as rhythmic as they had been, mostly due to his hold on me. I let him guide me where he wanted me, his own hips bucking into mine. As his finger sped up, so did his breaths, and I heard him gasp, trying his best to hold out until he knew I was coming too.

A couple more pumps from us both and I heard him curse. He buried his face in my neck just as I felt myself reach the edge. I called out his name, throwing my head back. He held onto me tight as we came, our skin slick from perspiration. I felt his lips drag across my shoulder and up my neck to my ear, his breaths still jagged as our bodies trembled.

“Oh baby…” he whined softly, “I love you. You’re so perfect for me.”

My heart was pounding so hard and so fast, I could feel it pumping in my ears. I wondered if I had heard him correctly. Had he actually said those three words?

As our breaths evened out, Harry continue to caress my skin with his lips, occasionally nipping at my shoulder with his teeth. I reached for the bed beside my knees to steady myself as I tried my best to lift up and off of him.

“Where are you going?” he asked as he resisted releasing his arms from me.

“Bathroom,” I replied quickly, sliding off the bed.

“Oh.”

His tone sounded like a pout, but I didn’t look at him as I made my way to the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. I leaned against the sink, still trying to catch my breath. I felt light-headed, my skin still prickling from the heat, both from him and the fire. The porcelain cooled my hands, and I turned on the faucet, splashing cold water on my face. After using the toilet, I wet a washcloth and cleaned myself. Feeling a little more tender than usual, I recalled how deep Harry had been inside me.

And he’d said he loved me.

I hadn’t said it back. I wasn’t sure why. I knew I loved him. Perhaps I’d been worried he’d only said it in the height of passion. Maybe he’d forget he’d even uttered the words.

Taking a deep breath, I opened the door to find him lying on the right side of the bed, his hands behind his head. He’d discarded the condom, probably into the nearby wastebasket, and his glorious skin glowed in the firelight. He was absolutely beautiful, and for a moment my stomach did a flip.

He was mine. I knew that. I didn’t know why I was so apprehensive. I loved him. And he was mine.

With as easy a grin as I could manage, I walked softly to my side of the bed. Harry’s eyes followed me with silent question as I crawled in beside him.

“You okay?” he asked before pulling me closer.

I nodded my assurance as he slid his hand under my ear. This thumb caressed my cheek, drawing tiny circles, his eyes blinking slowly as he focused on me, trying to read my face. His lips parted slightly as he leaned in closer. I licked my own lips in anticipation of a kiss, but instead he pressed his forehead to mine, and I felt his chest rise as he took in a deep breath, then let it out slowly.

I closed my eyes as I continued to feel his breath on my face, his lips ever so slightly brushing against my skin. Then finally his lips met mine in a tender kiss. My body trembled again as though it was the first time, and I felt the need to be as close to him as possible.

“I love you,” he declared plainly, his mouth just hovering over mine.

My eyes fluttered open then to see his green ones, the flame from the fire reflecting in them.

“I know you heard me that time,” he said, a tiny bit of humor in his tone.

I nodded, blinking slowly. “I heard you before, too.”

Harry’s eyes shifted between mine and then down my face and back up again. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t. I mean…I’m not scared.”

“No?”

I realized then I was still shaking as I clung to him, my arm wrapped around his torso. His hand released my neck and his fingers combed through my hair. I felt goosebumps down to my toes and I swallowed hard. Harry kissed my forehead again and made his way down my nose.

“You don’t have to say it, baby,” he whispered. “But I know you feel it.”

I sighed as I closed my eyes, and he gently kissed my lips again. I heard him sigh too, that contented sound I loved before pulling back. I felt the bed shift then as he reached over and diminished the last of the dim lamp.

“C’mon, love, let’s get underneath the covers.”

I barely opened my eyes to shimmy my body beneath the sheets as Harry lifted them. Shivering, I scooted as close to him as possible, reveling in his warmth. As the remainder of the firelight flickered, I looked up at him, his beautiful eyelids shut, his perfect lips slightly parted as he breathed gently.

Why was I scared? I asked myself. Of course I felt it! What the hell was I waiting for?

“Harry,” I whispered.

“Hmm?” he hummed, his eyes still closed.

I took a deep breath then and let it out slowly. “Harry, I…” I choked, my voice catching.

“Shh,” he sounded, his eyes fluttering open as he lifted his hand to push a curl from my face. “Go to sleep, baby.”

I bit my lip, considering his request. But I couldn’t go to sleep without saying it.

“I love you, too.”

The way Harry looked at me then was indescribable. Though he didn’t beam his infectious smile at me, his eyes danced with imminent joy. I pulled him close to me, expecting another tender kiss, but instead he rolled me onto my back. He teased my lips with little pecks at first before guiding them open with his tongue. When it brushed against mine, he let out a deep groan. Then shoving his tongue inside, he filled my mouth, over and over.

He kissed me breathlessly, making my toes curl and the heat returning between my legs. My fingers tangled in his hair as our mouths continued their intimate seduction for several minutes. Then, when it seemed we finally needed a refill of oxygen, Harry separated his lips from mine and stared at me. The firelight made him appear to have a golden halo around him, which was fitting. Leaning his forehead against mine, he blew out a deep breath followed by a tiny chuckle.

“I didn’t know how happy that was gonna make me feel,” he confessed.

I smiled up at him, brushing the back of my fingers across his jaw before he kissed me once more.

“I love you, baby,” he said. “So much.”

“I love you, too, sugar,” I nodded.

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK

Also, if you enjoy my writing, please consider joining my Patreon!

[yandere-sins]

Hiii, it's my first time here !! I wonder if you could ask my question, if possible of course of Yandere Geralt of Rivia...

Imagine a scenario where the reader is from our world and went to Geralt's world, then the reader find him at him and tells his story and asks for help to return to his home... Of course, as time goes by, Geralt becomes "sick with love " for the reader to the point of becoming Yandere.

Note: the reader sees Geralt as best friend or older brother.

Thanks for your request ♥

»»———————— ♡ ————————««     

You were simply relieved you weren’t alone. 

There were a lot of terrible things that could happen to you, reaching from being mauled by a monster to cut down by a sword, and so, so many gruesome things more. Whatever Geralt saw in you, you were glad it didn’t make him leave you alone to your misery, no matter how strange you were.

Truthfully, you weren’t even a good choice as a squire, but aside from grumbling about your unhelpfulness when it came to battle, Geralt hadn’t driven you away. Despite being rough around the edges, he truly was the hero you needed in your predicament, and for that, you were thankful. 

Whatever you could do, you did, may it be fetching water or helping set up a tent. While the life of a traveling witcher was nothing you wished to pursue forever, you put up with everything you could so that you wouldn’t end up on your own again. The first week spent stumbling through the wild and running from monsters had been enough bad experience in this world for you. Now, your mind was only on one thing: Getting home.

It probably was a luxury to have Geralt’s help in not dying and achieving your goal, but all the more, you were relieved that whatever power made you fall into this strange world had enough mercy to send you this angel of a man. No matter how many dirty, uncomfortable looks you got for being with him whenever you two came into a town, you would endure them, knowing Geralt was the key to make this situation just a memory and send you back home to your family.

Home. It sounded heavenly. 

You sighed deeply, slowly awaking from your slumber. It couldn’t have been long that you fell asleep, the campfire still burning lively next to you. You still felt tired, but something was different than usual. Heavy even.

Pulling down the blanket you had wrapped yourself with, you saw the big arm laying around you, making you realized the heat of a second body in your back. Geralt never slept closer than necessary to you, but without the need to guess, he was definitely sleeping right beside you, spooning you from behind. 

With a flushing heat rising to your face, you were too embarrassed to say anything, even though his arm alone was too heavy to fall asleep with again. He might have accidentally fallen asleep next to you after having some drinks before bed and mistaken you for someone to cuddle up to. But waking him wasn’t an option. Geralt struggled with his sleep enough as it is; you wouldn’t dare to interrupt him and cause a scene. But the reality was very different from what you assumed. 

You heard him take a deep breath as he buried his face into the nape of your neck, not shy to pull away the fabric covering you and pushing his face into your skin. As you listened to him mutter your name, you felt a cold shudder run down your spine, but you tried not to make him notice you were awake. “[Name], [Name], [Name]...” he mumbled, and you bit your lip. The way he said your name always made it sound reproachful, despite you not remembering what you did wrong that day. 

“Look at you, letting your guard down. Don’t you know that I...”

His voice trailed off as you felt him shift suddenly. You reacted quickly, pretending to be fast asleep with your eyes closed and lips slightly parted innocently. Geralt let out a small chuckle before you felt him reach over you, dragging his thumb over your lip. “What are you dreaming about? Your heart is racing.”

Realizing you forgot the first thing about Witcher - their heightened senses - you didn’t know how to help yourself other than stirring a little in your sleep, putting on a frown. Sure enough, that made him halt in his tracks and back away a little, as if he feared you waking up. Only when you settled down again did Geralt relax as well, returning to his spooning position. 

“Seriously...” he kept muttering. “How am I supposed to go on like this? Every time we meet a Sorceress, I am afraid she will have a way to send you home.”

Something about his words gave you a sad impression. Almost as if parting would hurt him, but you weren’t sure if this was just your impression or if the tiny bit of his past that he told you about actually gave him this fear. In your eyes, Geralt was fearless and kept his composure no matter what, but what if you had misjudged him?

“I’d like to keep you all to myself. Lock you up and never let you go. Maybe when we get to Kaer Morhen, I could--”

This time, his voice halted suddenly, and he rose again from behind you. “Are you awake?” he asked, quiet still as if he was hoping you were asleep after all. You simply remained in your pretend sleep, taking an audible breather and hoping it would fool him. He remained in this careful stiffness for a while before he finally drew back. Immediately, you were surrounded by the chilly air of the night as his body disappeared, but before you dared to attempt to move around, you heard more of his mumbles.

“No, I can’t. I shouldn’t... It’s not right...”

What couldn’t he do?

You were ready to blame all the gibberish you had just heard on the mead you two had before bed, but the questions didn’t seem to stop circling your mind. Geralt seemed to fall asleep somewhere a bit further away, while you felt wide awake now. You couldn’t believe that Geralt - of all people! - could have developed any kind of feelings for you. But why else would he be worried about your return? Why would he say those things about locking you up?

Way too freaked out, you tried to make sense of what you had witnessed. Certainly, he didn’t want you to be awake as it went down, but now that you knew, you were left conflicted. Part of you kept getting goosebumps as you remembered the feeling of his face pressed into your shoulder and his words echoing in your ear. The other part tried to justify it with any and all reasons like the alcohol, loneliness maybe. There was no sleep for you after all, and Geralt kept stealing irritated glances at you the following day until he finally asked, “Are you okay?” 

You flinched after being suddenly addressed, not even your exhaustion able to tear you out of your thoughts that still pondered about the last night. “Oh, yeah! I’m fine,” you tried to assure him, and he contemplated your response for a bit before replying, “There’s this place we should go to next. Maybe we can find some books on portals there.”

“Sounds good,” you chuckled. Nervosity spread inside of you as you hoped he didn’t mean the place that he was talking about last night. 

“I grew up there. You might even be able to sleep in a bed for a change. Kaer Morhen is also safe and...”

After that part, your mind simply shut off as the word kept repeating over and over in your head. Kaer Morhen. Kaer Morhen. Kaer Morhen. Kaer Morhen.

Kaer Morhen, lock up, never let go.

“...and it isn’t far from here,” he finished his explanation, looking at you as he waited for an answer while you could feel the horror showing in your expression. The red flags were so abundantly clear by now, but you absolutely refused to think this way about him. He wasn’t a bad man, he would never... or?

There were a lot of terrible things that could have happened to you on this journey, but you had put all your trust into Geralt to keep you safe. To help you. To be a companion so you wouldn’t be lonely. And until the end, you hoped Geralt wouldn’t turn out to be the monster or the sword you feared so much.

But who could tell what he’d do when he finally had a taste of living out the things he desired?

[writingthingsisdifficult]

Good intentions

Bucky Barnes x reader

Had to divide the story into four parts, and I’m working as fast as I can to finish the rest.

Please don’t hesitate to tell me what you think :) Especially if you like it.

Everybody's alive.

When Natasha catches your reaction to seeing a soaking wet Bucky coming in from the rain, your life becomes unbearable. Nat considers herself a decent matchmaker, but what happens when both her subjects are resisting her attempts?

***

Part 1: Matchmaker

Word count: 4412

It had been raining for weeks. Racing streaks down the glass. Soft drumming against the umbrella. Big, fat drops of water splashing against the pavement, sending shivers through my body whenever they hit my skin. Two in rapid succession on my neck – don't know how, though, my coat collar was pulled up as high as it could go, and my umbrella was larger than average. Then one straight into my ear, which made me squeak in disgust. This had to be an omen.

I shook my umbrella before stepping through the door. No need to be a savage, though from the look of it, I was the only one who cared. A quick nod good morning to Nesta in the reception while making a mental note to call down the cleaning crew. The state of the floor was appalling. Mud and dirt and water – apparently not everyone remembered to wipe their feet before entering the building. And umbrellas all along the wall, dripping on the tiles, creating puddles so large a toddler would happily jump in them.

A long sigh escaped. Time for a stern talk with Nesta again. This was supposed to be a good first impression, not an impression of someone's mudroom. My stomach twisted, this was just the latest in a long string of minor complaints. If she didn't improve soon, I would have to make a note in her file and I hated being strict. Still, it was a part of my job, just like running errands before eight in the morning and longing for the coffee I left in my office. I didn't have to like it.

The elevator pinged. “Hey, Y/N.” Natasha walked out with a smile on her face. Her hair was red again, like flames cascading over her shoulders. Damn, that woman really could carry any hair colour. I nodded and smiled back. “Good morning, Agent Romanov. You're in early. What can I do for you? Love your hair, by the way."

"Thanks. I was wondering if you could help me with something."

I shook off my coat and adjusted the bag on my shoulder. "Of course. What do you need? Let me just –""

The door blew open, banging into the doorstopper before closing behind a sopping wet figure and an umbrella that definitely had seen better days. "Good morning, Y/N. Hey, Nat. Have you seen Clint?" Bucky shook himself, sending a glittering spray of water everywhere.

"No, but check the roof."

The air was knocked straight out of me. I couldn't stop the tiny squeak that tumbled over my lips.  The way his hair stuck to his face did things to me, not to mention how the water glistened on his metal arm. I hadn't felt heat on my face like that since I was seventeen and spilled juice all over my shirt in front of my neighbour Todd.

Swallowing the rest of the rude noises hovering in my throat, I forced a smile and nodded to the elevator. "Saw him by the coffee machine on the third floor earlier, Sargent Barnes." My voice was breathier that usual, and I cursed the weather for calling me out like that, while simultaneously praying to any deities listening that nobody noticed.

"Thanks." He marched to the elevator with a pace that would divide a crowd of people without a word.

Natasha looked between Bucky and me, a devilish smile spreading on her face. Once he was out of earshot, she bumped me with her elbow. “So, Bucky, huh?”

The heat crept up my ears and settled in my temples. Surely I was no more than two seconds from combusting? “What? I don’t… no, I mean –" I drew a big breath and steeled my face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now, what was it you needed my help with?”

Her eyes locked on mine. "Never mind that… You're a terrible liar."

A good point. I let out a small wheeze and scrunched my eyes shut. "Fine! Yes, Sargent Barnes is a tall drink of water. Is that what you want me to say? Well, yeah, okay. Maybe I do have a thing for him." The defeat was inevitable. Already my intestines were squirming. Nothing good could come from this.

Natasha looked like it was Christmas and her birthday all at once. "I knew it!"

I shrugged, ignoring the rising chill in my chest. How to best deescalate this before it got out of hand? "Well, you are a superspy after all. But please, PLEASE, don't say anything to him. I like my job. Besides, he's a fucking superhero. I'm just… me."

"Just you?" She shook her head lightly and rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, I mean, come on! Look at me!" Holding my arms out, I swayed from side to side. I never liked to draw attention to my body, but apparently she needed the extra visual.

Natasha arched her eyebrow. "I am looking."

She was good, but I couldn't to give up that easily. "Yes, and then you clearly see that I'm ordinary. People like him don't fall for people like me. He's too perfect for that."

"Perf… perfect?" She snorted. "Y/N, Bucky's a mess. He's basically a cucumber with anxiety. Damn, you really have it bad if –"

"I know he has issues. You all do. I'm the one booking everybody's therapy sessions, remember? I'm not talking about his trauma. I'm talking about the fact that he's sweet as a marshmallow and his smile could power a small European country if Stark only found a way to harness its brilliance –"

"And the fact that he's got those broad shoulders and could probably lift and throw a bus if he wanted…"

"And that," I nodded, rubbing the back of my neck to stop that annoying heat from spreading even more. That was a delicious picture, alright. "But I'm nothing special."

"Y/N, sweetie, what are you talking about? You know everything, who's supposed to be where, what we're doing, when we come and go – that's practically a superpower right there. Don't downplay yourself."

The laughter came out dry and humourless. She had to be kidding. Being organised and good at puzzles wasn't exactly rocket science. And besides, I didn't even have a good memory. Without my trusty calendar and phone I'd be running around like Hei-Hei.

"Appreciate your confidence in me, but I don't think so, Nat," I countered and repeated: "Please don't tell him."

She sighed. "I won't."

I tilted my head and put on my best mom-voice. "Promise me."

Her shoulders slumped forward, and she lifted her hand in the air. "I promise I will never tell James Buchanan Barnes about your crush." There was a small pause. "Partypooper!"

"Who's a partypooper?"

I yelped and spun around, looking into Tony's smiling face. "Oh my god, Tony, I mean, Mr Stark." Why did he have to be so stealthy? A big, flashy guy like him ought to be required to announce his arrival with trumpets and drums. Through my galloping heartbeats I noted the glasses were new though, and wondered what kind of new tech they really were. They suited him.

He smirked. “Not the first time a lady has said that to me. But you didn’t answer my question.”

Exhaling, I closed my eyes, just barely resisting the urge to pinch my nose – or maybe kick him in the shin as a diversion. This was going to hell with the express train. “No one. No one's a partypooper.”

“Really?” He turned to Natasha. “Nat?”

I shook my head vigorously, bringing forth all malice I had to my eyes, which I have been told is substantial.

"Y/N has a crush and –"

"Ooh, is it me?" He winked and wiggled his eyebrows.

That made me laugh. "What? Oh, god no." Then I immediately felt bad for my reaction.

"Okay, a little bit insulted, but whatever…"

"She won't let me tell Bucky that she's in love with him," Natasha continued as if she had never been interrupted.

Tony gasped, a look of absolute delight in his eyes.

It was as if the ground disappeared beneath me. A rush of adrenaline almost knocked me off my feet. "Natasha! You promised."

She shrugged and pointed at Tony. "I promised not to tell Bucky. Last I checked, that is not him."

This time I did pinch the bridge of my nose and exhaled deeply, then groaned silently. “Nat!” Even I could hear the desperation in my voice. “Sargent Barnes is a friend. Well, uh, a colleague. Of sorts. I do not -“

“So you didn’t just squeak and burst into flames when he came through that door, huh?” She pointed to the glass door with a grin on her face.

Yeah, this was definitely a torture-the-handler day. Though Natasha was right about my crush, of course, and I wasn't even sure it was just a crush anymore; it had lasted for far too long to be called a crush, I had to keep a professional relationship with all of them.

Truth be told I had had a crush on Bucky since the day we were introduced, but I remembered the exact moment I had fallen in love: it was a chilly spring evening about a year ago. The team had decided to go out to eat, Wanda had discovered a new restaurant downtown, and the food supposedly was to die for. I couldn’t remember what I ate, or if I even liked it, but I remembered the knitted cardigan Bucky wore, the one with the colourful pattern on it. It looked really soft, and I found myself longing to touch it. That wasn’t the moment, though. The exact moment that made me go “Oh shit!” was when I cracked some stupid dad joke, and Bucky unleashed his full laughter on me. Who knew that "Singing in the shower is fun until you get soap in your mouth. Then it's a soap opera," would be my doom? But the sound had stunned me, made me lose my voice for several minutes. If someone had opened my skull at that moment, the only thing they would have found was an empty space and a dial tone - my brain frantically trying to reconnect with my body. If I concentrated I could still hear the ringing in my ears.

I avoided him for a week afterwards - well, tried and failed; my work meant contact with the entire Avengers team at all times - but the mental distance hurt too much to keep up with it. Since then, I allowed the realisation to wash over me, causing me both joy and suffering. And I thought I hid it well. Not well enough, apparently, since Natasha sniffed it out. I resisted the urge to close my eyes and sigh again. However, I couldn’t stop my intestines from curling into a tight ball. She had brought Tony into this after all.

Tony’s eyes shone. It had been a long time since any drama unfurled in the compound. He was practically starved, and this… This was delicious.

Looking between them, I knew this wouldn't end well. "You know what? I'm gonna go set up the briefing. Room 705. Thirty minutes. Don't be late." Fishing the phone out of my pocket, I sent a group text to everyone with time and location. In afterthought the wording in the text might have been a tad too harsh, threatening bodily harm if they were late, but the start of the day warranted some sort of reaction leaking from my brain. I locked eyes with Natasha. "Not. A. Word!"

She nodded, but the grin never left her face.

Tony watched me frantically push the elevator button, and I caught him whispering, not knowing I could still hear him. Or maybe he didn't care. "So what's your plan?"

"What do you mean?"

"Don't you have a plan? You're the resident match-maker here, aren't you?"

Nastasha let out a small laugh. "Do you know why she refuses to do anything about it?"

Tony nodded. “Because she’s professional and a bit afraid for what the people at the top are going to say?”

“No. Well, probably that too, but she thinks Bucky is way out of her league. Something about him being a superhero.” She snorted.

“What?” Tony let out a barking laugh. “Why? Bucky’s like the most timid ex-assassin you can find. I mean, he’s basically a cup of soft serve covered in salt and liquorice."

“I know. We gotta get them together. So, uh, are you in?”

“Uh, yeah! What’s your plan?”

The room finally sealed itself around me and I heard nothing else than the back of my head banging against the mirror wall and F.R.I.D.A.Y. cheerfully announcing what floor I was going to.

Half an hour later I had to step out for a bit to fetch a new cable to the projector, and when I got back, almost everyone were seated. My chest hollowed when I spotted Tony and Natasha sitting together, looking very conspiring indeed.

The urge to either run from the room or break them up rose in my throat, but instead I pulled up a chair next to Sam and focused on my breathing. He was one of the most calming people on the team, and I shamelessly used him as a shield.

Other than the small scare in the beginning, the morning briefing went without hitch. Agent Hill presented the upcoming missions, and I marked my calendar accordingly. Apparently SHIELD had detected a new terrorist group forming in northern Europe, and needed eyes.

Natasha was a given, she could go undetected for longer periods of time, and could take care of herself if necessary. Of course, Clint would come with her. They were an amazing team together, and he would probably go anyway, even if he was assigned to another task. It was better just to let him.

Steve and Sam would step in if it came to that, but would have to keep under the radar until they were needed. Bucky would travel to Europe with the others, but I knew he would set off alone the minute they touched ground in Stockholm. He worked best alone, or so he claimed, and anyway it would be an advantage to spread out. Still, I made a note on my pad to make sure he had everything he needed, and then some. Who knew where his road might lead him.

Bruce and Tony would work together to develop a better algorithm for the surveillance. So far, the terrorist group had evaded SHIELD's best efforts to pin them down. I was actually surprised to learn they didn't even know their name, which made me suspect something big was coming.

The rest of the team was assigned to other, smaller missions, scattered across the States. That way they could easily be reassigned if the situation escalated in Europe.

During the meeting, I kept an extra eye on Natasha and Tony. They sat next to each other, and though I thought I saw them passing notes a couple of times, I didn't want to bring any attention to it. The rest of the group looked oblivious. A sigh of relief escaped me, and Natasha looked up. She nodded imperceptibly towards Bucky, who sat with a bored look on his face and a discarded towel by his feet.

I narrowed my eyes and shook my head, trying my best to stop my ears from buzzing. Suddenly aware of every molecule in the air and trying desperately to ignore the intense weight, I focused all my attention back on Agent Hill’s presentation. Still, Bucky’s presence lingered in the back of my head, and together with the imminent threat from Natasha and Tony, I felt like I was sitting on explosives.

When Maria finally closed her laptop and turned to Director Fury, everybody got up, chatting as if the meeting had been a regular parent-teacher meeting and not a brief on a possible terrorist organisation on the rise.

“Can you believe that people will do things like this?” an agent asked as we all filed out of the room.

“Well, faith is a strong persuader,” I replied with a shrug. “Some are willing to go far for what they believe in.”

“Yeah, but they’re wrong,” the agent continued.

“They’d probably say the same about us,” Sam said, and I nodded.

“There are always two sides to the coin. If not more.”

“But -“

“And then it’s up to us to figure out what to do. We have to look at the big picture. Not everyone is capable of that.” Sam tilted his head with a look of disappointment in his eyes.

The agent huffed and hurried off with a look on his face that either said that he was constipated, or that being schooled by a member of the Avengers was too much for a Wednesday morning.

“Not sure he saw the big picture, Sam.” I shook my head and smiled.

“Don’t think he could. Better hope he doesn’t get promoted soon.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. He’ll be on desk duty for years still. And I guess you have a little desk duty yourself right now?”

“Well, actually… I was hoping you could do me a favour.”

Uh-oh. That sounded ominous. “Of course. What can I do, what do you need?” My voice rose to mimic the retail job I had before I got lucky enough to join SHIELD's training and ultimately land my dream job.

Sam grimaced. "I gotta go to Louisiana. Just a short trip, couple of days maybe."

"Shit, don't think Director Fury would be too happy about that right now, not to mention the rest of upstairs. You're supposed to be on silent duty until you leave for Sweden."

"Yeah, I know that, it's just… Cass and AJ has been asking me to come visit. And Sarah's getting sick of their nagging. Also, I sorta promised on the phone yesterday. Didn't know there would be a world crisis today."

Smiling softly, I hid the urge to smack my face into the wall. This was going to take a lot of explaining and string-pulling. He was supposed to go no-contact for the duration of the mission, but I hated disappointing the boys. And Sarah was a good woman. She didn't deserve being let down, even though it technically wasn't Sam's fault this time.

"Sam, you're such a softie," I said after some consideration. "Go. I'll figure something out. Just be back before the weekend, okay? And –"

"Yeah yeah, and I'll come in at once if the situation escalates before we're scheduled to head out."

I gave him a crooked smile to disguise the trouble he had just handed me. "Sure. But I was gonna say bring back some of that pecan pie. I've been dreaming about that since last summer."

Sam let out a loud laugh and kissed the top of my head, melting my nervous soul to a gooey puddle. "You're the best. Thanks."

"Fly safe."

"I always do."

"Really now?"

"Oh so that's how it is, huh?"

"That's how it is. Say 'hi' to Sarah for me."

With a short wave, he took off down the corridor, leaving me quietly screaming and already doing the mental gymnastics to find a solution.

***

Departure time was in two days. Everyone was on edge, trying their best to prepare for any eventualities, both inconceivable and expected. After a short meeting with the departure crew to share the last pieces of intel, I felt empty and tired. Missions always affected me more than they should. These people were my friends; if anything were to happen to them, my world would collapse.

Apparently I wasn't the only one feeling a bit drained. No one was in a hurry to leave, and the conversation was hushed and weary.

"You know what we need?" Tony said loudly, slicing through the silence and winking to Natasha. He thought I wouldn't notice, but I did, and the suspicion grew in my chest. What now?

"Pizza!" they said in unison. "We should gather everyone, before we all go."

Tony nudged my arm. "My treat. What do you say?"

Narrowing my eyes, I tilted my head. "…sure."

"Oh, don't be like that. We all need good pizza. Especially today, what with all this rain. Hey, F.R.I.D.A.Y., you know that pizza bakery up the street, the one with the chicken one. Order pizza for everyone. Remember the one with pear, brie, and white sauce. Have it delivered to the lounge."

That did it for me. If he ordered my favourite, I'd be damn sure to eat my part. "When?"

"Uh…" He looked at his watch. "Noon. I'll send out a ping. Don't worry about it."

"Thanks. I do have a ton of things to do to make sure you guys don't die on this trip." I tried to keep it light, but now that the thought had settled in my mind, I had to fight off the tears. It was a miracle I managed to keep the tremble from my voice.

An hour later I tripped over the doorstep to the lounge, surprised to see it was empty except for Tony and Natasha and a huge stack of pizzas. "Where is everybody?" The door clicked behind me, sealing the silence in.

Natasha shrugged. "Late?"

At that moment the door opened again and Bucky sauntered in with a mischievous smile on his face. "Gimme the pizza and nobody gets hurt."

"Jeez, Buck. Remember your manners. There are ladies present." Tony grinned, but opened the top box and helped himself to a slice.

Bucky snickered and rolled his eyes. "Sorry, Y/N," he said with an over-the-top flourish. "I hope you can forgive my insolence." He gestured towards the pizzas. "Ladies first."

My heart did a somersault, but I managed to keep it cool on the outside. "Insolence forgiven," I replied, swallowing a hiccough that lodged itself in my throat, before taking a plate and sifting through the boxes until I found the right one. Loading my plate, I sat down, sinking into the soft cushions. Only thing missing now was some candles and a drink, and I'd be set for the day.

Natasha gave Tony a pointed look. Two minutes later he picked up his phone and half jogged out the door. That was odd. Tony never jogged.

I looked between Natasha and the door, the pizza forgotten halfway between the plate and my mouth. She looked anywhere but at me, but was saved from a confrontation by her phone ringing. "Gotta take this," she muttered. "Can't prepare enough for the trip." She smiled apologetically and left the room. That was a lie, of course. She had full control; all intel was already read and destroyed. And if something new had come up, I would have been notified too.

Suddenly the plate felt heavy in my hand. Maybe it was naïve, but I had expected Natasha and Tony to respect my wishes; after all I had made it absolutely clear that they should leave it, hadn't I? Their amusement and entertainment wasn't worth being an inconvenience to Bucky.

"What's going on?" Bucky asked when the door clicked behind Natasha.

"I… I don't know," I lied haltingly.

Bucky shrugged. "Oh well. Might as well catch up on some paperwork before the flight too. See you later." With one slice between his teeth and another in his hand, he left the room with a friendly wave.

"Sure. See you." I spoke to his back; the glass door had already closed behind him. The lump in my throat grew. Even though Tony had ordered my favourite pizza, I no longer had any appetite. My mouth was dry, and it was a struggle to swallow. In a fit of frustration, I kicked the table, smacking my toe in the process. The pizza slice slid from the plate and landed on my thigh. "Fuck!"

"Ooh, pizza!"

I spun in my seat. Steve had just arrived, and that made me feel a little bit better at least. He was always a laugh.

"Where is everybody?" He looked around and spotted my moping figure, holding an equally sad slice of pizza. "You okay?"

"I guess," I replied, trying to smile and failing miserably. "Everybody else left. The mission, yeah?"

"Right. I thought everything was planned and okayed."

I couldn't bring myself to fill him in on the situation. If he didn't already know, it was nice to have someone neutral by my side. "Yeah, I don't know."

Their scheme was becoming clear; making Bucky spend time with me alone. But it was a failure. Even he thought it was awkward, and he obviously didn't want to be alone with me. Not that I blamed him. If I was him, I'd do the same.

I glanced at my watch. 12.30. Just then Sam, Bruce, Wanda, and Vision spilled into the room, heading towards the pizza like a herd of hungry goats. Slowly my appetite returned too, and half an hour later the blow to my heart was a painful memory pushed to the back of my mind by excellent pizza and wonderful friends.

Later that day I ran into Tony on the way to the garage. He tried to slip past me, but had to stop when I blocked the door, arms crossed over my chest and puffing myself up as much as I could. "Seriously, Tony! What did you expect to happen, huh? That I'd just throw myself in his arms because we were alone? Because newsflash: I've got both self-control and decency. Do you really think I've never been alone with him before?"

At least he had the decency to look thoroughly chastised, and he mumbled something inaudible I thought maybe sounded like an apology.

No way he was getting away with a tiny one. "What was that? I couldn't quite hear you."

"It was Nat's idea," he said, trying a smirk that didn't work at all.

"I very much doubt that," I replied, dragging a hand over my eyes. "Do I have to call Pepper? I didn't think so," I added when he shook his head. "Do better! Now excuse me. I have a lot of work to do to ensure you actually don't die on this mission." With a final, exaggerated frown, I turned and marched out of the room, ignoring the samba in my chest.

Part 2: Eel infested waters

[teacup-crow]

Maybe, Maybe, Maybe

Fun bit of survivors’ guilt for @badthingshappenbingo, based pretty heavily off Don’t Poke the Bear and Variations on a Theme. Post-finale.

They take it in turns to keep watch for when he wakes up: Doug, Reneé, Isabel, first names still such a novelty. Just his luck, he opens his eyes to the impassive face of Captain Lovelace.

“Hi, dickbag. Sore head?”

“Unnnnhh…” he whines as if he’s lying under a ton of rocks rather than a cosy quilt on Renee’s living room floor. His face is a patchwork of bruising. “Aspirin?”

She takes pity, and passes him two and a glass of water. The sitting up takes longer than he thought it would.

“You look terrible. Lucky for you, Renee makes a mean chilli con carne. Never would have guessed she could cook.”

“No thanks, I should, should be going-”

“You need food in your system, that’s non-negotiable. First thing’s first, though, you’re having a shower, and you either go willingly or get dragged bodily, because you goddamn stink. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir,” he mumbles automatically, and he remembers the Colonel - Warren? Was it on a day he could call him Warren? - once saying something similar and his head pounds. ((“mr jacobi, of all the irresponsible, stupid shit i have seen from you this really takes the-“))

“Bathroom’s on the second floor, just past the master bedroom. Dominick put a pile of clean clothes in there before he left for work. And it’s Isabel, okay? Not sir. Not Captain. Never again.”

***

“Who did this to you?”

He grips his mug of sweet tea like it’s thousand dollar whiskey. He’s still ashen. “I did this to me.”

“You beat the shit out of yourself? Okay, yeah. Don’t buy that one.” Isabel repeats the question. “Who did this to you?”

“Just some guys I pissed off. I don’t know how many. I don’t know who. Happy now?”

The room goes silent. Isabel continues:

“And did you go provoking them deliberately?”

Not for the first time, Renee wonders whether they should have included Doug in this little intervention. He’s been through so much just like the rest of them, but he doesn’t know it, and he’s clearly freaking out at the situation.

“Why would he want something like that to happen? He looks terrible!”

“I don’t know, Doug,” Isabel says levelly. “Care to answer, Jacobi?”

He’s not on a first name basis, apparently.

“Not… I didn’t... no. No, no, no. I was too drunk and… picking fights, but suddenly there were too many of them, okay? But I got out. And if I want to drink then that’s my own problem, so thank you for the hospitality but-“

Renee cuts in there. “When you drink yourself into a stupor, get attacked by a gang in a back alley, and stumble into my doorway at 0300 hours after six months of radio silence, it becomes our problem.” Her look of pity makes his stomach churn even more than the chilli did. He breathes in, hold, out; in, hold, out; in-((alana’s breathing technique and why why why is she everywhere in everything why does he have to see her out of the corner of his eye when it’s been so long he can’t properly remember her face-))

“Fine. What do you want from me?”

“You are a good man and you saved every single one of our lives and we need to understand why you’re so intent on throwing yours away.”

Jacobi starts laughing then, guttural laughs that worsen the ache in his head and bones but he can’t seem to stop them. “...me? I’m a good man? Oh my God, Lieutenant, that’s hilarious. Give us another.”

“You need to take this seriously! This is a form of self harm! You could have died!” Isabel is pacing up and down. She and Renee do good cop, bad cop like it’s a professional sport.

“Boo fucking hoo. And the world would forever be worse off for my passing.”

Isabel stops, and turns back towards him with some heat in her gaze. “I have lost too many crew members who deserved to die far less than you do. Okay? Is that what you want to hear? Do you need me to reconfirm that you are a an asshole? Do you need to hear about how Fisher, and Hui, and Fourier, and Lambert were all far better people than you will ever, ever be? Or will you accept that you are good in there? That deep down you’re on the right-“

“We burned their letters.” He’s staring at the duvet he’s wrapped in, running his finger over the flowers on the pattern. “Okay? Still think I’m a good person?”

“...wait. What?” She laughs a little, in shock perhaps. “But you told me…”

“I told you what I needed to tell you to make you trust me. We burned your crew’s letters. Lambert’s… I remember those especially. His hands were shaking really hard when he wrote them, weren’t they.”

It’s not a question.

Isabel stops pacing, and Jacobi grins again but it doesn’t reach his bruised eyes when he looks up at her. “More than mine, even. You could tell he was sick. They didn’t make any sense. We laughed at them. The irony of a Communications Officer who can’t communicate. Are you listening to me? We read their letters and we burned them and we laughed about it-“

Renee loses her softness. “Jacobi, that is enough!”

Isabel has a hand on her chest as if something has hit her there. She counts to ten in her head, ((fisher’s technique to try and stop her fighting with sam, never worked but still stuck in her head, or this copy of her head, or whoever she is now-)) and leaves the room.

They hear her slamming drawers in the kitchen.

Doug glances at Jacobi and shakes his head, before hurrying after her.

“How could you,” Reneé says. “How could you.”

“I don’t know. Will you let me go and ruin my own life now?”

“Never,” she replies. “Because, God help me, you’re still a member of my crew.”

At that, his eyes prick with tears he can’t explain. He rolls over on the air bed, and closes them.

***

“Lovelace?” Jacobi finally makes himself walk into the kitchen, grimacing like each step is on hot sand. The words are monotone. “I’m so sorry. What I did and said is... inexcusable.”

“Nope. That’s too large a word for your vocabulary. Come back to me with an apology Renée didn’t script,” Isabel snaps, going back to scribbling in a sketchbook.

“Look, I’m not much good at this-“

“You’re telling me.”

“I’m… really used to people yelling at me and hitting me until they feel better. Or you can shoot me if you like!”

“Jesus. Well, I am not about to do that to ease your guilt. You look like you’d snap if one more person poked you. So apologise properly.”

“I’m sorry…”

“For?” Isabel prompts over the top of her book.

“I’m sorry for burning your crew’s letters.”

“You did what you were ordered to do. It is what it is. I’m not condoning it.”

There’s a moment of silence, and Jacobi realises she’s waiting for him to continue. “And… I’m sorry for bringing it up. That was… needlessly cruel. It sucked.”

“It really did,” she replies, putting the book down. “Tell you what: that sounded somewhat genuine, and Goddard brought out the shit in all of us. You look so pathetic, I’m going to forgive you. Not because you deserve it, but because I don’t bear grudges. Not anymore.”

She holds out a hand, and he shakes it. “Thank you.”

“Wow. That actually hurt for you to say.”

Jacobi nods. He sits down across from her at Renée’s huge darkwood table, and thinks about how she and Dominick must have bought this when they moved in together with plans to have people over for dinner every other night. Maybe even plans to have kids.

He wonders if Dominick ate at it alone while his wife was gone.

“So, you gone on that holiday yet?”

“No, actually. I’ve legally been dead for about seven years, so getting a passport is proving pretty tricky.”

“I can imagine.”

“Where have you been, anyway? We tried to get into contact with you. We drove down to your old apartment - got your address from the Goddard database - but it was cleaned out.”

Jacobi looks sheepish. “Yeah, well, I’d mostly been staying at Alana’s for the last few years or overnight at… yeah… so I’d not been a very good tenant and turns out they took ‘lost in space’ as the perfect opportunity to kick me out. So I’ve been sofa to sofa, on the streets a bit-”

“For heaven’s sake, Jacobi. We would have helped you, you stupid asshole! All you had to do was ask and you could have stayed here! Renee and Dominick would probably even let you have a cheese collection or whatever the fuck it was.”

“Guess the amount of drinks it takes for me to lose my pride is somewhere over eighteen?”

“How do you have a functioning liver?”

They sit in an almost comfortable silence for a few minutes, Isabel reopening her sketchbook.

“I never knew you drew.”

“You never knew me outside of a life-threatening situation.” Isabel sighs, twists the pencil between her fingers. “I don’t think I did. Before. The old ‘me’, I mean. But I was bored and I can’t get a job because of the ‘being dead’ issue, so I thought I should take up a hobby or something. Might be therapeutic. I’m not very good at it…”

“Can I see?”

“I, uh,” Isabel suddenly looks uncertain. “I drew her. Maxwell. I drew everyone, actually. Are you sure you want to look?”

“Yes.”

He leafs through the pages, at first simple doodles before branching into full portraits. Eiffel, upside down and smoking a cigarette. Hilbert, looking troubled at a shadow behind him he can’t quite see. Two ghostlike figures in lab coats staring out at the star, the man with a prophetic terror etched on his face - must be Isabel’s old crewmates. Mr Cutter smiles up at him with far too many sharp teeth in sharper lines where the pencil was pressed far too hard and he turns the page quickly. There’s Kepler, mid-whiskey speech and it almost stops his heart. He pauses. Maxwell.

In the picture, her eyes are shining as she stares at Hera’s console, fingers nothing more than a blur - the three-day stint she spent trying to get the AI online. Aside from the orange and blue of Wolf 359, elsewhere in the book Isabel has barely used colour, but here the room is bathed in a serene green light from the screens. Behind Maxwell, Jacobi sees himself, little more than a stocky, sketchy outline, waiting for her to finish.

He looks so proud of her.

He looks so… content.

After staring for a long moment, Jacobi closes the book and hands it back. “Thank you.”

“You can keep the pictures of them, if you like,” Isabel offers, but he doesn’t know whether he would like, so he says:

“Tell me about your crew.”

“What?”

“Your old crew. Tell me about them. Was Lambert the one staring at...?”

“No. No. No, that was Kuan Hui, our senior astrophysicist. He was whipsmart and funny and fearless, until the time Goddard Futuristics played around in his brain, stretched out his perception of time. He was completely alone in the dark for two weeks. His smile never really reached his eyes after that.”

Jacobi sips tea awkwardly, even though it’s cold.

“Something like that, it stays with you. At least he had Fourier, though.”

“That’s the woman behind him?”

“Junior physicist. Victoire Fourier had eyes like stars. Cleverest person I’ve ever met. She played six instruments, spoke four languages and she had the most gentle soul. She used to read to Hui when he got sick with Decima. Coughed up every organ in his body. I thought it would break her, but she was made of stern stuff. She vanished off the space station in the final days and I still don’t know what exactly happened to her-”

“I… do. If you want to know, I mean.”

Isabel shakes her head. Then pauses. Then shakes her head again. “I get the feeling whoever is to blame is long gone.”

Jacobi shrugs. “Who else?”

“Well, there was Mace Fisher. Fisher… Fisher died because of me, not Goddard Futuristics. Asteroid shower tore him from my hands. He had a boyfriend waiting at home. He was sensitive, sensible, grounding. A real older brother type. I- I didn’t deal particularly well with his death. Well, you know that much.”

((Pill popper!)) Jacobi gulps more cold tea.

“And Lambert?”

“Sam Lambert. Officer Samuel Lambert had a stick up his ass. He was whiny, and authoritarian, and he treasured his copy of Pryce and Carter more than Reneé and Kepler combined did. He drove me nearly insane, and I drove him likewise. The best second in command you could ask for. A damn good man. Sam got sick after Hui, so we knew what was coming. What it meant. He was brave, though. At first.”

((“C-Captain, please shoot me, please, it hurts, it hurts, Captain, please, I just want it to-”)

She falters.

“Lovelace?”

“Yup?”

“You know, it’s not even really about the Hephaestus. I keep… it’s insane, but I keep thinking about… I was an explosives guy for the Air Force. Before Goddard. A trigger failed and two men died. Andrews and Sullivan. I haven’t thought about them in years and suddenly-“

“They’re everywhere?”

There’s a sudden understanding between them.

“They’re everywhere. Them and Maxwell and Kepler. They’re in mirrors, in the back of my brain, around corners.”

“Flashes of them.”

“And if you just reach out far enough, maybe-“

“Maybe-“

“Maybe.”

((let’s go be monsters)), Jacobi’s brain echoes. He grits his teeth.

“Did it stop for you? When does it stop?” He finds himself asking. Isabel doesn’t answer.

[suitofvibraniumarmor]

If You Just Realized

Part Nine: A Little Overwhelmed

Summary: The day after the wedding, Y/N has lunch with Kennedy; Sebastian and Milena have a surprise for her. Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader Word Count: 1910 (excluding translations) Series Warnings: Death, angst, sadness. Lots of creative licensing, I’m sure. Chapter Warnings: Sex talk between friends (nothing detailed), feels. Square Filled: This entire series will fill my realized feelings square for @marvelfluffbingo​. A/N: I’ve much enjoyed writing this series, and I hope all of you enjoy reading it! The tag list is open; requests to be added can be done so here. There are bits and pieces of Romanian throughout the series, mostly from Google Translate and the few things I’ve picked up as I learn the language.

Series Masterlist

“So, did you get laid last night?”

Y/N laughed at Kennedy’s wiggling eyebrows. “It’s not that kind of marriage, Ken, remember?”

She rolled her eyes. “I just figured maybe the wedding would have given you two some reason to celebrate or something. I know it’s been a while for you —”

“Hey!”

“And I don’t know about Sebastian but the guy’s been through a lot, he could stand to blow off some steam.” She took a bite of her salad. “Anyway, I really appreciate that you took time to meet me for lunch before I’m back to the West Coast. We don’t see each other nearly enough as it is, and with you in New York indefinitely …”

Y/N sighed and sipped at her iced tea. “You’ll just have to come visit when you can. I’ll do the same. Seb and I can bring Milena out —”

When she realized what she was saying, she stopped and cleared her throat. She couldn’t think of anything to cover for what she had just said, so she shoved a too-big bite of club sandwich in her mouth instead. Kennedy raised her brow and shook her head. 

“Why won’t you even admit it to me, Y/N/N? Even a little bit? You can have feelings for Seb without being full-on in love with him, you know.” 

She only shook your head. “No, it isn’t — see, honestly, I have never thought about him like that. Ever. He’s one of my best friends and I can be myself around him and count on him, and that was enough. More than enough. But then all of this started happening and he asked me to marry him and … and …”

If Kennedy’s brow went any higher, her eyebrows and her hair were going to get tangled together. “And what?”

“And last night, in the hotel room, we — it was just kissing, okay? He was just out of the shower, I needed help with my zipper. And he stopped it because he didn’t want me to think he was trying to get anything more out of this than what we’ve already established.” You drew in a slow, shaky breath. “So, if we’re just friends, why did I want it so bad? Why did I want him so bad? I’m pretty sure it had nothing to do with how long it’s been, before you say anything about that.”

Kennedy giggled. “I know this has nothing to do with that. Me trying to get you to open up about what you’re feeling towards Sebastian is not some sappy romance thing because the two of you got married and are going to parent this little girl together. I want you to really understand what you’re getting into — a short-term marriage that’s going to end in an agreed-upon divorce with someone who means more to you than only being one of your best friends.”

“But it’s never been like this before.”

“Sometimes … sometimes we need a push to help us see where we’re meant to be,” Kennedy shrugged. “Is that as close to admission I’m gonna get you?”

“This trip, anyway,” Y/N smirked. “I’m still trying to process all of this, I think.”

Kennedy finished off her salad then, giving her a few minutes to think. When the waiter came, she took care of the bill. 

“Shittiest wedding present ever,” she joked, “but I also flew out here last minutes so, that counts, right?”

Y/N nodded and laughed. “Absolutely. Thank you, Kennedy. For being here and for — for everything.”

She smiled. “Anytime, friend.” 

When Y/N returned to the apartment, Milena came running towards the door, blocking Y/N from going any further than the front door. 

“Finally!” Milena screeched. 

Y/N lifted the little girl into her arms. “Finally? Have you been waiting so long for me to come home?”

Milena nodded her head and grinned. “A surprise!”

“Hey, hey, don’t be giving away our secrets,” Sebastian laughed, coming into the room. He put a hand on Milena’s back and leaned over to kiss Y/N’s forehead. “I know you just got back, but if you’re up for a little drive, we’ll leave early before we meet everyone at my parents’ house for supper.”

Y/N shrugged. “Sure, I’m okay with that. Let me touch up my face and I’ll be ready to go.”

Milena wiggled down from her hold to go and retrieve her shoes when Sebastian instructed; Y/N headed to the bathroom to touch up her makeup. She was putting more lip gloss on when Milena wandered in, shoes on her feet and a jacket added to her outfit. 

“Uncle Seb said ’s cold.”

Y/N nodded. “It’s kinda chilly — I’m going to put a jacket on, too.”

“Can I have some of that?” Milena’s finger pointed to the gloss Y/N was re-capping. 

She crouched down to Milena’s level and put the tiniest amount on the toddler’s lips. Milena sat very still while the gloss was applied and pointed to the mirror when Y/N was done. 

“Look at those pretty girls,” Sebastian smiled, leaning into the bathroom. “You ready to go?”

“I think so. How about you, princess, you ready?”

Milena nodded, then wrapped her arms around Y/N’s neck in as strong an embrace as she could manage. “Iubes.” [Te iubesc = I love you]

It wasn’t one-hundred percent correct Romanian, but the adults knew what she meant. Y/N snuggled against the toddler, meeting Sebastian’s eyes. She couldn’t read the emotions there, so she closed her eyes and answered Milena honestly. 

“Te iubesc mai malt.” [I love you more.]

The drive to their destination was mostly silent, except for a Disney soundtrack playing and Milena quietly singing along when she thought she knew the words. Y/N wanted to reach for Sebastian’s hand and hold tight, for comfort. Before, she would have done that without question. Now, after what had happened in the hotel room, she was too worried about Sebastian thinking she saw something in their relationship that wasn’t there. Instead, she kept her hands in her jacket pockets and stared out the window for most of the ride. 

“I thought we had somewhere else to go before your parents’ house?” she asked, realizing they were in the same neighborhood where Anthony and Georgeta lived. 

“We do,” Sebastian confirmed. 

He didn’t offer any more information, so she kept her further questions to herself. A couple of minutes later, they pulled into the drive of a pretty house — one Y/N didn’t recognize. Sebastian got Milena out of her seat while Y/N stepped out of the car and took a good look at the house. 

“What is this?”

Sebastian only took her hand and smiled, balancing Milena on his other hip. He walked them up to the front porch, took a key from his pocket, and let them in the front door. 

The place was large and blocked off from street view by a line of trees; the land was extensive. The construction and decor was all contemporary and well cared-for. The bedrooms were large, each had its own walk-in closet. The master bath boasted a tub she already couldn’t wait to sink into. At the back of the house, the shaded patio led to a swimming pool, and a koi pond even, beyond that. Despite the size of the house and its amenities, the place felt very homey — cozy, even. She wandered back through the slider, meeting Sebastian and Milena at the island in the middle of the kitchen. 

“I thought maybe it would be good to be close to my parents,” Sebastian began, after Y/N had a chance to see the whole house. “The schools in the area are rated well, and it’s a quiet neighborhood. We can look at something different, if you’d like. Maybe I’ll have this house longer than …” He glanced at Milena, then cleared his throat. “Anyway, I put a bid in so we wouldn’t miss out, but I wanted your input, too.”

Perhaps this wasn’t so different than when he was demanding they decide together about what custody of Milena to ask for in the court filing, but for Y/N, it did wonders for him to so simply state that he wanted her opinion on such a big decision. She took a deep breath; she could picture Milena growing older here. She could picture them having family movie nights here. She could picture Thanksgiving and Christmas and New Year’s. Though she knew it wouldn’t ever happen, she could picture late night slow dances with Sebastian in the kitchen and changing one of the extra rooms to a nursery for a baby that would be a perfect mix of both of their features. 

Sebastian put a hand at her elbow, pulling her from her reverie. “Hey, if this is too much …”

“No, no, it’s not that, I just,” she fanned herself and chuckled lightly, “I think it’s a little warm in here, yeah?”

His concerned frown didn’t soften. “Bright Eyes?”

How did that, a nickname she had heard a million times, make her feel even more warm? “I’m okay, Seb, promise. I love the house, I really do. So much. And if you love it, since you’re the one keeping it, you should leave the bid. How’d you get the key without being the owner, by the way?”

His frown morphed into a mischievous smirk. “I have my ways. C’mon, girls — let’s get over to Bunica’s before they start to wonder where we are.”

He held Milena’s hand on one side and Y/N’s on the other. At the car, he opened Y/N’s door first, then got Milena settled back into her seat. Y/N watched the house as they drove away, indulging herself on daydreams that were likely to never come true. 

She was silent again on the way to his parents’ house, thanks to the daydreams, and was out of the car quick enough to get Milena from the backseat ahead of Sebastian. The girls headed to the porch ahead of him, but he caught up before they got too far. 

“You all right? You’ve been flushed since before we left my apartment, you’ve hardly said a word in the car …”

“I’m fine. Probably just tired from the last couple of days.”

She made to move forward with Milena again, but Sebastian caught her by the hand. Georgeta opened the front door with a smile, immediately recognized the tension between the newlyweds, and so she beckoned Milena to the house. When it was only the two of them, Sebastian raised his brow, but Y/N shook her head. 

“Hey, c’mon, talk to me,” he pleaded. “Since when do we keep things from each other?”

Y/N sighed and met his eyes again. “I’m not — I don’t want to keep things from you. I’ve just got a lot on my mind, you know? What Milena said before we left, and the house, the wedding. It’s all wonderful, but I think maybe — maybe I’m overwhelmed. I’m okay though, really.”

Sebastian pursed his lips. “If last night —”

“No, don’t even say it,” she interrupted. “I’m not going to let either of us dwell on that and make things awkward. We’ll have a good time with family this evening, I’ll get a good night’s sleep, tomorrow everything will be back to normal. I’m sure of it.”

He held up both of his little fingers. “Double pinky swear?”

She loosened up and laughed, hooking her pinkies with his. “Double pinky swear.”

“Good,” he grinned, taking her by the hand and leading her into the house. 

AllOfTheThings: @captain-s-rogers​ @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​ @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked​ @hurricanerin​ @horsesandbandsforlife​ @im-not-an-armrest-im-short​ @captain-rogers-beard​ @shynara51​ @sea040561​ @pinknerdpanda​ @xtina2191​ @jackryanplz​ @beakami​ @heartsaved​ @fullprunerebelstatesman​ @blackwidowismyhomegirl​ @averyrogers83​ @jennmurawski13​ @connie326​

IYJR: @elsatxx​ @tanelle83​ @amanda-teaches​ @etherealwaifgoddess​ @kmuir1​ @ntlmundy​ @jayankles​ @rebekahdawkins​ @denise1605​ @rhadigen​ @peace-love-hobbitness​ @itsallyscorner​ @mizzzpink​ @auspiciousharriet​ @the-murder-strut-murdered-me​ @learisa​ @tellmewhatyouwill​ @katherinereid​ @lokilokilokilokilokiloki​ @thewolfsenate

[dejilmcabrough]

Akira’s POV

I heard that after the hero defeated the calamity, he went rogue. I also heard he went and left Hateno to go to the faron province to worship the Zonai? My job after awakening from my 118 years of slumber is to bring him back. WOW, I’m Zelda’s older sister, why am I having to prove I am “good enough”. They didn’t even give me new clothes. 

I rode my black steed Hocus. Well the descendant of him. God it’s hot. I wipe sweat off my forehead. We crossed a bridge, I slowed him down. I hear rustling. Suddenly feeling a pain and a jolt, I feel my body hit the dirt ground. I open my eyes while gasping for breath, I see sharp blue eyes pierce through mine. My breath hitched in my throat. 

Link. It’s the hero of legend. The blonde pulled me up by my hair. “Ow, ow ow, that hurts!” I cried as he grabbed the reins of my horse and he made me get up off the ground. He pushed me in front of him and told me with a raspy breath, “move.” 

I start to walk and I ask, “where are we going?” Silence. He said nothing. We go through a gate to a cave. He pushed me to the ground and my hands were cut open from the rugged ground. I hiss from the pain. 

His sharp voice asked where I came from. “Did you come from the Castle?” He spit. “y-yes..I’m the first daughter of the Hylian royal family..Akira..” “They don’t have another daughter, the only one is Zelda.” He snarled. God he is horrifying. 

“I am the first daughter. I am 118 years old and I will not be treated this way by you.” I snarled back as I got off the ground. My grey royal dress was tattered. “I just woke up from the coma, and the first thing I had to do was come get you.” I sighed. He looked at me like I had two heads. 

He glared at me with intense daggers. “I’m not here to take you back, I know just how bad the hylians are.” I patted my legs off and looked up at him.  He stayed silent. “Even though I was born an abomination, I actually have full sheikah blood.” I unzipped my dress a little from the back. I showed him the thick black tattoo that was on my shoulders. It was the Sheikah eye.

He reached out and skimmed the tattoo with his finger tips. “I see..” Link straightened up and nodded. “I understand, so you won’t try to make me go back?” I nodded slightly. Then he looked guilty. “Sorry for pulling your hair and pushing you on the ground..” He looked embarrassed. “It’s okay I would have done something similar if someone tried to make me leave” I laugh. 

1

Link then told me to follow him. Hesitantly, I follow him down into the dark cave. The blonde led me to a large room with potions, water and all sorts of survival things. He tells me to sit down while he rummages through some jars. I sit down carefully and wince at my hands. 

He then sat down beside me. “Give me your hands.” He demanded and I gave him them. He opened a jar with pink cream looking stuff. “It’s an elixir, but I tweaked it to be a cream.” The boy looked intently down at my red smeared palms. He skimmed over them, remembering every cut he created. 

I sucked in my breath when he applied the pink stuff. The scent of petals invaded my nostrils. The cream was chilly and so I winced. Seeing my reaction, he softly blows on the cuts. He thought it was hurting. Why did…

I blushed awkwardly. He finished applying the petal scented stuff. “...what is this stuff made of?” Sharply he said, “Fairy Tonic, I had put fairies in a cook pot and made the perfect elixir out of it.” I sweatdrop. The blonde looked up and laughed at my reaction. “It’s true though” He commented. 

 I watch the cuts disappear and look up with a beaming smile. “Thanks for healing me,” he smiles back. “No problem” he says shortly. Then he waited a moment before talking again. “You’re not so bad, Akira.” “You’re not as bad as I originally thought either” I laugh while I trace over my palm. He looked away. “I’m glad you’re not a snotty princess that tells me what to do when all i’m doing is protecting you” He laughs, then went silent. 

“Are you okay?” I ask while putting my hand on his shoulder. “Yeah I’m fine, thanks.” He sharply replies. His sapphire eyes dart down to the ground. I feel extremely awkward. He takes his skull helmet off and sits it on the ground beside him. Then he raked his hand through his hair. His hair was so long. 

I then scoot closer. “Can I braid your hair?” I ask weary. He nods and I stand up, moving behind him. I softly raked my hands through his blonde hair. I assumed his hair would be at least a little dirty, but his hair is clean and a pretty golden color. I slowly braid his long soft hair and as soon as I finish the braid, I ask for a piece of lace. He hands me a lace piece and I tie it around his hair. 

2

He looked up at me and I smiled. “I’m done, it looks really good!” He then hands me a...Sheikah slate… “take a picture so i can see” He responds. I nod, then ask where the picture thing was. He turned and pointed at this icon. I nod. 

I opened the icon and it made a noise that startled me. I zoomed onto his hair and took a clear realistic picture of his braid. “Here Link!” I give it to him, and he intently looks at the picture. “Good job Akira, it’s perfect” He looked up at me and beamed with his toothy grin. 

I blush at his cute face. I then  look down at myself subconsciously. I am a literal hot mess. He looks down at what I'm looking at. “What?” He asks curiously. “Sorry, i just noticed how much of a mess I am” I laugh nervously. He nods slowly. “Here” He stands up quickly. He digs through a bag and pulls out an outfit that is a little revealing. 

He pulled me up and handed me the outfit. “There’s a spring farther back into the cave, you can bathe there” He smiles. “Well, Is there a soap I can use?” I inquired. He nodded and said it was already there. “I can show you there if you want” He shrugged. I say that would be perfect. He took my hand and led me to the spring. It was dim, and the water was a beautiful shade of blue. It was glowing like foxfire mushrooms. 

“Thank you Link, you can go now..” I say. He lets go of my hand and walks back the other direction. “See you when you’re done, Akira” He waved. I waited until he’s completely gone and took my tattered clothes off. I walked into the spring and it was warm. The soap was on the edge of the pool. 

I wash up and soak for a while. As soon as I was done, I rinsed myself and dried off. Tip toeing over the clothes, I pick them up. No wonder they looked revealing, They were also Barbarian clothes. I put them on and they were a perfect fit. 

I put on the shoes and picked up my clothes that were 101 YEARS OLD. I walked out of the spring room and saw Link picking up stuff around the cave. I call and he looks up. He sets a bunch of random stuff in the corner. “It suits you very well,” He commented. His face seemed more pink than normal. 

“Well, uh I can braid your hair too” He said as he grabbed a wooden comb from the pile. I nodded. Link sat me down on clothes and sat behind me. The boy gently combed my hair straight and he fishtailed my hair. “How can you do that, Link?” I asked curiously. “My mother taught me before the calamity” He responded. 

3

He took a picture of it as well and showed me. “It looks so much better than my braid..” I say flabbergasted. He chuckles. Then he looked rigged. “What's w-” “Do you want paint on too?” He interrupted me looking interested. “I guess, what colors do you have?” I ask looking back at him. “Any color you’d like” He replied. 

“I would like a purple color, kinda like yours” She said as she looked at his markings. “I see” He said as he stood up AGAIN and said while blending paint, “i think a more vibrant purple color will suit your skin tone” He mixed some blue, red with already existing purple making it more purple. 

He walked over with a jar full of paint. “First I'll go from your face, down ok?” he asked while he dipped his fingers into the jar. “Okay” I say while feeling butterflies in my stomach. He stares intently at my cheeks as he presses his cold painted finger on parts of my face. “As soon as I’m done, I'll show you on the reflecting glass” I nod, as his hands trail from my chin to my neck. 

He made three dots on my shoulders and re-dipped his finger into the jar.  He drew some lines and circles on my arms and a small triangle on the top of my wrist. Then he repeated onto the other arm. Then he made a swirl on my stomach just above my belly button. I blush at the touch. “Turn around” He said while making more purple lines on my body. 

I turn around and he makes a nice hum sound. “Your actual tattoo is so detailed, is it like a birthmark or..” I nod. “Yeah it’s a birthmark, everyone thought it was so weird it was there when I was born, since I was apparently 100% Hylian” I giggle. 

Link then makes some more symbols on my back, but I don't know what they are. “Stand up and turn around again” I do as he says and he puts paint on my thighs. They were lines and circles. 

“I think you’re done, Akira” He says as he wipes his stained hand on a cloth on the ground. “Okay, can I see?” I asked curiously. “Yeah follow me” He said. I followed him like a lost puppy until We were in front of a reflection. We looked like we were fixing to burn down a village. “Here I forgot something” He disappeared and appeared again a few minutes later with a helm. 

It was a cat skull with red braids and tribal ornaments. “It’s lovely,” I say as he puts it on my head. “It suits you very well, Akira” He smiles at me through the reflection. 

4

“Should we go find something to eat?” Link asked as he took my hand and dragged me outside. “Well I guess I'm hungry” I say as I look around. “What are you thinking, big guy?” I ask as I skim the jungle. “Birds, deer, squirrels..Anything” He said as he equipped himself with a bow and an axe. “What should I use?” I ask while I pet my horse. 

“Here is a dagger and light weighted bow, it's ok if you break either of those though” He said as he handed me the weapons. “..okay, so what do I use on what?” I asked. It dawned on him. “You don’t know how to use weapons huh?” I smiled. “Nope!” I said as I sheathed my dagger. 

Link hopped on my horse and lended me hand to get up on there as well. I took his hand and sat in front of him. I had one hand on the rein and one of the saddle pommel. Link grabbed the opposite side of the rein, and his other hand rested on my hip. I went a little ridged. I tapped Hocus’s sides with my feet stirrup. “Okay we are going to an area that is peaceful, so we can ruin the lives of animals! HAH'' He laughed maniacally. 

-TIME SKIP AFTER THE HUNTING SHENANIGANS-

I held all the bird eggs and Link lugged the deer bodies and bird bodies, onto Hocus, before letting him carry it back. “You are literally so weird Akira” Link laughed remembering what she did twenty mins later. “Sorry I threw a bird at you Link, I thought you were gonna shoot it” She giggled. 

“You threw it in my face Akira!” he yelled, chuckling afterward. “Well how was I supposed to know my strength!” I yelled back laughing. Link and I walked beside Hocus. We walked to the cave, before Link grabbed the meat off of the horse before going into the cave. After gently setting down the raw meat, I pulled out a few carrots for Hocus. “Be right back!” I yelled. 

I greet Hocus and pet him. He neighs with delight before searching me for food. I give him the carrot laughing. 

[agustdomain]

October Ink | #1

You and Donghyuck have big plans to show off your couple costumes Halloween night. Nothing’s going to ruin that... right?

You should’ve brought your bag to school today. Huffing, you adjusted your binder and books in your arms once more, cursing Donghyuck out in your mind. How did he convince you that your backpack was going to throw off your couples costume?

It wasn’t unbelievable that the Wasp and Ant-man wouldn’t carry backpacks. 

The air smelled of pumpkins and damp leaves, and as the sun set up ahead, you tilted your head back, welcoming the chilly air. Kids ran by with their halloween bags, their giggles making you smile.

You truly loved fall. There was nothing like it. Of course, Christmas was magical. Spring reminded you that the warmth was coming, so cherish the pastel aesthetic. Fall? It was travelling to another dimension.

The book on the bottom of your stack started to slip out of your arms again, so you prepared yourself to heave them up- only for hands to jab your sides and a low voice in your ear. You jumped, your books flying to the sidewalk as you sent your elbow flying back into the attacker’s stomach. 

“Shit!” You instantly recognized the voice, reeling around to see Jeno doubled over, looking more comical than ever in his skeleton costume. “You didn’t recognize my voice?!”

“Yeah, because I’m supposed to guess it’s you by your evil growl. What’s wrong with you?!”

“I literally just saw you! We were just in stats together. We live in the same neighborhood, for crying out loud.”

“It’s Halloween. My eyes are on the lookout for dolls in striped shirts and babysitter slashers.”

Jeno rolled his eyes, grabbing your books like they were the weight of pillows. He matched your pace- well, you had to match his but that's besides the point. 

“I forgot how jumpy you could be.”

You side-eyed him, never being able to stay mad at him for long. You’d known him for the duration of high school, and he was probably the sole reason you were so bad at math. How could you focus when he was always making witty remarks underneath his breath that made you laugh?

“You and Hyuck are still going to Yeji’s party tonight right?”

“Yes, Jeno, I already told you. Besides, he insists on showing off our costumes.”

“They are pretty cool. I would’ve gone for Cap and Black Widow though.”

You scoffed. “If that were the case, it would be HULK and Black Widow.”

The two of you proceeded to argue over Black Widow’s true soulmate, eventually settling on your agreement that Natasha deserved better in general.

The conversation shifted, Jeno complaining about how Jaemin spent too much time in October trying to prank him. You teased him, throwing his own line of “I forgot how jumpy you could be”. He brushed it off with a roll of his eyes and a plan to scare the shit out of Jaemin at the party tonight. 

You humored him, daydreaming about how cute Donghyuck would look in his Ant-Man suit. 

“Well, this is me,” You nodded, like he didn’t know this was your house.

He handed over your books. Jeno waited for you to climb up the steps and unlock your front door, smiling and waving as you turned to give him a nod. 

Just before he disappeared out of view you called, “You couldn’t have come up with a better costume? I mean, skeleton?”

He stretched his arms out. “I’m Johnny. From Karate Kid? Get it together, Y/N.”

Shaking your head, you went inside. 

A few hours passed, and you spent most of the time eating too much candy and getting pulled back to the tv to watch Halloween when you should’ve been doing your homework. Why do teachers want to kill any sort of joy?

It was 8 pm, Donghyuck was going to pick you up in thirty minutes and you were cursing yourself out for watching Michael Myers running around killing people more than doing this last assignment. 

You drilled away at your laptop, muting the tv and opting to play a spooky playlist on Spotify. Here and there, you’d get pulled away from the couch to hand out candy. You really were a hero. 

There was a page left of your essay, and your fingers were aching. You didn’t want to hear Donghyuck’s whining if you weren’t ready when he pulled up. A part of you wished that you had just gone to your parents’ work party- nope. Even now, you refused to mentally agree with that.

Phone going off, you prepared yourself to come up with a smooth apology- only to be graced with good luck. 

baby                8:27 pm  

 Running a few minutes late. Should be there by 9. 

He was lucky your parents were a little lenient on Halloween. Though, that only gave you two, maybe three hours at the party. You texted him back quickly, feeling good about being able to BS the rest of your essay in time. 

The extra time loosened up your worries, even forcing yourself to take a bathroom break. When you came back, you settled in and got to work finishing up.

With a few minutes to spare, you finished and printed it out, putting it away in your bag. There was nothing like the excitement that hit you then. Yeji’s parties were always fun, though you didn’t get to go often. It was a miracle your parents let you on a Thursday. Like you said, leniency. 

You spent the last few minutes eating pretzels and catching the beginning of Halloween 4: The Return of Michael Myers. Getting caught up in the movie, you didn’t realize that quite a few minutes have passed. When you checked your phone next, your eyes widened at the 9:34 pm displayed on your lock screen. Usually, you’d catch yourself admiring the photo of Donghyuck kissing your cheek, a huge smile on your lips. Not this time.

Lowering the volume, you clicked his name and called him. You waited and waited, the fourth ring passing by… the fifth. After it went to voicemail, you tried again. Still no answer. You texted him, wondering what was going on. 

A text came in and you clicked it, your shoulders relaxing only to deflate at Jeno’s name. 

jeno                  9:38 pm

“YeS JeNo. I aLrEaDy ToLd YoU-”

MY ASS! Where are you????

Texting him quickly, you realized that the reason your heart was beating so fast was because Donghyuck never did this. Even if he ran late, he always kept you in the loop. This was not the night for him to be pranking you. 

We are! Donghyuck said he’d be here by 9 and he’s not picking up the phone. 

I’m worried. He never does this. 

The three dots showed up, then disappeared. After a minute that felt like a mile, Jeno texted back. 

jeno.               9:41 pm

Don’t freak out. I’m sure it’s fine. You want me to come over? Jaemin can drive. He’s the DD. 

The thought made you feel better, and it took everything in you not to say yes. You had to think clearly though and not jump to conclusions. It was only thirty minutes. Donghyuck could’ve been driving, or fell asleep, or just hasn’t seen his phone. 

Your phone started ringing, making you jump. You breathed deeply as you answered Jeno’s call. 

“Hey,” You tried to control your tone, not wanting to ring any alarm bells. It was loud on Jeno’s end, music making it hard to hear him

“Did you see my text? Jaemin and i can head over if you want.”

He already sounded a bit gone, but you appreciated his concern. Breathing in deeply, you made a choice.

“It’s fine. I’ll give him some time.”

“Alright, well let me know. Doesn’t matter what time it is. And you shouldn’t be moping around alone on Halloween anyways. If I find out he flaked on you, I will pummel him-”

“Relax, it’s okay. I’m sure something came up. He’ll be here soon.”

You hung up, ropes tightened taut in your stomach and making it hard to breathe let alone think. Putting your phone down, you tried focusing on the tv. It didn’t work, picking it up again and calling Donghyuck. No answer. 

Sweat was beginning to build at your lower back, so you pulled off the top of your costume. It was okay, you had to tell yourself. Don’t jump to conclusions. As much as you loved Halloween, it always made you extra jumpy. 

All the candy and worry made you queasy, so you went to the kitchen to look for something to eat. Not in the mood to make anything, you pulled out some leftovers from last night. Right as you grabbed it from the fridge, three loud bangs came from the front door. 

Almost dropping the container, relief flooded your veins as you closed the fridge and put the container on the counter, beelining for the front door. 

Your hand paused on the knob, eyes finding your phone. If it was Donghyuck, he would’ve called. Peeking out the peephole, your breath went still at the lone figure on your porch, clothed in black, a wolf mask with a snarling mouth hiding their face. 

Their hands were in their pockets, no bag for candy in sight. 

This wasn’t Donghyuck. Your gut was screaming at you that this wasn’t a trick or treater either. 

Your phone went off then, but you hesitated to look away from the peephole. Debating what to do, you raced for your phone and back to the door. 

They hadn’t moved, like they were a mere decoration on your front porch. You picked up the phone, breathless. “Hello?”

“What do you want?” 

Your eyebrows drew together, pulling the phone away to see it was Donghyuck. It was him, his voice, everything. Why was he so mad?

“What do you mean? Where are you?”

“Like you care. What, regretting it already?”

Blinking, stranger on the porch forgotten, you searched for words. Your mouth worked for you. “Regret what? What are you talking about’?”

“Stop calling me. Texting me. You think you can just dump me and pretend it didn’t happen?”

You couldn’t breathe for a different reason now, mind muddled. “What? I- Donghyuck, I didn’t break up with you. What are you even talking about?”

“Y/N. You just texted me after I said I’m running late. Told me to go fuck myself and you were done. What, you have short memory now? Real nice.”

You were unable to breathe, goosebumps breaking out against your skin. Turning back to the front door, you uttered, “I didn't text you that, Hyuck. I would never...”

There was a silence louder than any party on the other side of the phone. Just as disbelief filled his tone, hitting you with, “What?” a large bang sounded at the front door, a scream breaking past your lips as you flinched.

You checked the looks on the front door, ignoring your phone in your hand as you raced to the kitchen for a knife. You could hear Donghyuck screaming, calling your name, but you couldn’t focus. Just as you reached the kitchen, you caught a shadow at the back door. 

Backing into the hall, you glanced around the room, debating what to do before running down  to the hall closet, fumbling through the dark to grab your dad’s baseball bat. 

Putting your phone to your ear, you cut off Donghyuck’s worried words. “There’s someone here. I think they’re gonna break in.”

“Call the cops. I’m on the way.”

“Okay but-”

“I’ll be there right now. Just hide.”

You did what he said, ignoring the banging at the back door. Locking yourself in the bathroom, you tried to stop your shaking as you talked to the operator. 

The nightmare worsened when they had trouble believing you, it being halloween after all. After sitting there arguing, they said they’d send a police car out to check up on you. They kept on talking to you, calming your nerves and telling you they’ll be there soon. 

The worst sound you could ever hear when you were alone at home? A knock at the bathroom door.

“Leave me alone!” You yelled, phone long forgotten as you raised the baseball bat. 

The knock came again, gentle. Just once. The doorknob rattled. 

Breathing sharply, you tightened your grip, waiting for them to break down the door. You froze at fast footsteps, a thump, then scuffles. You went cold at Donghyuck’s voice, loud and angry. 

Throwing the door open, he and the guy in the wolf mask were rolling around, trying to get the upper hand. A figure from the corner of your eye came rushing down the hall, so you swung as he neared. 

The guy ducked just in time, reaching to grab you. Instead, he went for the bat, grip tight and stronger than yours. You held on with all your might, terrified as you looked into the clown mask. 

“Stop! Stop, it’s me!” The wolf wheezed, your thoughts stilling as you looked down. Donghyuck had him in a headlock, the guy who you both knew tapping at his arm. 

Distracted, the clown pulled the bat out of your hands and let it clatter to the floor. 

“What the-” Donghyuck pushed off of him, eyes filling with rage as he pulled off the wolf mask- revealing Jeno’s flushed face. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

You turned to the clown, the mask halfway off and revealing Jaemin’s ashamed gaze. 

“Are you guys crazy?” Your voice wobbled, Jeno letting his head fall back as he gasped for air. 

“I was going to kill you, man,” Donghyuck’s voice was shaking, “Y/N just swung at Jaemin with a bat!”

“We didn’t think it would escalate like that!” Jaemin argued, “We were just trying to prank Y/N. We were about to show ourselves before you came tackling Jeno like a linebacker.”

“Uh, yeah, dumbass. I’m not just gonna let masked guys attack my girlfriend. You two have a death wish.”

You let them argue, grabbing your phone and apologizing over and over to the operator. You were scolded, told they should fine you for this, but let you off with a warning. 

Helping Jeno up, you shoved him hard. “I should kick your ass, Jeno.”

He grimaced, holding his hands up. “You did say my costume was lame. I wanted to improve my pranking skills. So I recruited this dip shit.”

Your limbs were heavy as you led them to the living room, unsure if you should keep on being pissed or grateful that none of you accidentally killed each other. 

“There’s a difference between a prank and attempted murder,” Donghyuck pursed his lips, but Jaemin threw an arm across his shoulder and rubbed his knuckles on top of his head.

“Aw, you guys can get us back next year,” He pouted, coughing when you and Donghyuck showed no signs of laughing.

“Assholes,” You uttered, sitting on the couch. Donghyuck sat beside you, arm going across the back of the couch as he searched your face.

Lowly, he asked, “You okay?”

“I’m alive. Considering if we should get new friends.”

“Hey! Come on now,” Jeno said, frowning like he was the one that just got traumatized.

“Out,” Donghyuck hooked his thumb toward the front door.

“But-”

Donghyuck cut him off. “We’ll see you tomorrow. If you don’t leave, I can’t say I won’t kick your ass.”

Jeno and Jaemin looked at each other, the former wringing his stupid wolf mask while Jaemin rubbed at his neck in embarrassment. 

As Jeno passed you, he mouthed a sorry as they moved to the front door.

“Hey,” Donghyuck called out to them, “The text thing was not cool. At all. I really should knock you out for that.”

Jeno frowned. “What text thing?”

“Come on, don’t play stupid now.”

He looked over at Jaemin, who simply shrugged. “I’m serious. What text thing are you talking about?”

Donghyuck pursed his lips. “You texted me through Y/N’s phone, tricked me into thinking she broke up with me. Clever. That definitely worked.”

“But,” Jeno’s face grew with terror, “We didn’t text you.”

“Jeno, that’s enough,” You shook your head, “There’s no reason to lie now.”

“We didn’t! We only came in after Jaemin saw you run from the kitchen! We were just gonna stay outside but one of the windows in the back was open...”

Right as his words kicked in, the sound of glass striking the floor somewhere in the house made you all stiffen. Donghyuck took the lead, and you gripped the back of his shirt as Jeno and Jaemin trailed close behind. 

The air was still, everyone silent as you raced to the source of the sound. You reached the room- the spare bedroom- and all stared down at what was once the flower pot tucked onto the windowsill. 

The window was open, just like the boys said, curtains fluttering. 

“Someone else was in here. Before any of us showed up.”

Everyone looked at you, horror dawning on all of you.

A/N: It’s officially spooky season!! I’m actually pretty excited to write stuff in the spirit of fall. Send in any requests, halloween related or not! Also, this is more of a oneshot than a drabble but let’s pretend it’s not. They won’t all be creepy, unless you want that. But yeah, hope you enjoyed! 

-Angelo

[burgers-and-french-fries]

Taking Chances: Chapter Thirty Six.

Note: Hello my lovies, oh where to begin. So by now you will have seen that I am currently taking a break from Tumblr which is why this post has been scheduled for today.

On another note, I’m not sure when I’m going to be online on my other social sites as my laptop broke a week ago and my phone has decided to shoot itself to shit once more, meaning that I need to get myself some new devices. Thankfully though, my amazing mother has allowed me to use her phone/laptop if I need to but I don’t want to do that to her. 

So with all of that being said, I will still be around on my other social sites but not as much as I have been in the past.

I hope that you are all keeping well and staying safe.

Enjoy!

===

Waking up in her own bed was something that Nicola would never take for granted again. Now don’t get her wrong, she was so glad that Luna was able to get the treatment she needed to get better but the uncomfortable hospital beds just about drove her up the proverbial wall. Luna seemed to have settled down a fair amount since Nicola’s body had kicked into gear but if there was one thing that Nicola wanted to get rid of, it was the pain of things growing, baby feeding etc.

“Jasmine, do you have your lunch?” Nicola called up to the little girl. Jasmine came down stairs with the brightest smile on her face. She had made the baby and Nicola a card each while they were at the hospital but with the excitement of coming home, Jasmine had forgotten to give it to Luna.

“Here.” Jasmine said proudly as she handed Nicola the unevenly folded paper cards. Nicola took them with her free hand and attempted to hug Jasmine.

“I think we a few minutes before Taron comes to collect you for school, shall we go and have read of these?” Nicola asked, making Jasmine nod enthusiastically. Jasmine was the first to sit herself on the sofa while Nicola placed Luna in her rocker and sat down beside Jasmine on the sofa.

(This is something that I wrote with my left hand. It read: Get better baby Luna. The picture on the card is something that I drew with my left hand as well.)

“Look Luna, this one’s for you.” Nicola said, holding up the card for the infant to see. Jasmine giggled.

“Her eyes are closed.” She replied. Nicola turned her eyes to Jasmine in mock shock.

“They are?” Nicola asked. Jasmine nodded.

“Well now, that’s just rude.” Nicola teased, throwing her hands up playfully. Jasmine laughed and moved over to Luna.

“You can read it to her.” Jasmine suggested.

“Good thinking my girl.” Nicola replied, opening the card. Her heart melted at the little note Jasmine had written out.

“Get better baby Luna.” Nicola read out. She closed the card and opened her arms for Jasmine to run into so to speak. Jasmine took that chance to really hug her sister. Both Nicola and Jasmine enjoyed the cuddle so much, they jumped when there was a knock on the door.

“Read yours.” Jasmine said as she followed Nicola to the door.

(This is another thing that I wrote and drew with my left hand. It reads: Lina, I miss you!)

“How about I put our cards on the fridge and then when you come home, I’ll read it with you.” Nicola offered. Jasmine liked the sound of that and ran off to grab her school bag.

“She’ll just be a minute. Why don’t you come in.” Nicola said, allowing Taron and a very bouncy Mikey into the house out of the cold. Jasmine came back speedily and was ready to go.

“Can I see Luna?” Mikey asked. Nicola chuckled at his enthusiasm.

“You’ll be late Michael.” Taron said but Mikey was long gone, as was Jasmine.

“A few seconds won’t hurt.” Nicola told him. Taron smiled.

“Suppose not. How are you?” Taron questioned. Nicola shrugged.

“Sore and tired but that’s to be expected.” She replied just as the kids came back giggling their heads off.

“Luna farted.” Mikey said through his giggles. 

“I best get her nappy changed then.” Nicola spoke. Taron nodded and helped Jasmine get the rest of her things together before they left.

=

The traffic was moving pretty well that morning and Taron was able to get the kids to school with time to spare. This got the children excited because that meant that they had time to [play for a little bit before the bell rang.

“You two have a good day.” Taron said when they came back out of the room to say goodbye.

“We will.” Jasmine replied. Mikey nodded in agreement and hugged his father.

“I’ll see you this afternoon.” Taron told both Jasmine and Mikey. Both of them nodded and ran off once more to play with their friends before the day started.

Taron walked back to his car and jumped onto google to see if he could find any remedies that could possibly help Nicola. He tried to remember what kind of things Kate used when she was breastfeeding Mikey but he’d be damned if he could remember anything about that. Scratching his forehead, Taron turned his phone off and made his way to Tesco in the hopes that something there would jog his memory. 

It wasn’t until he was at a set of traffic lights, that he had an ah-ha moment. He could remember his mum telling Kate that cabbage was great for tenderness during feeding. He kept a hold on that thought and as soon as he arrived at his destination and got himself a trolley, he made a beeline for the cabbage.

“Bloody hell, that’s a lot of cabbage.” He mumbled to himself as he shook his head and slightly shrugged. Taron just put every kind of cabbage he could see in the trolley. This included the canned cabbage he found while he was looking at other food items that he required.

When the man had completed his mission, he packed up the back of his car and made his way back over to Nicola’s to drop everything off to her.

(I found this on Pinterest.ca and I was shocked to see that there was so many different types of cabbage. I thought I’d share this picture because it is quite interesting.)

=

By the time that Taron had pulled into her driveway, Luna was just starting to wake up for her feed. Nicola had barely sat down to get herself situated when a knock echoed through the house. Nicola groaned and got up. She gave Luna a soother to keep her satisfied until she could get rid of whoever was at the door.

“What the hell is all this?” Nicola asked when she opened the door to see Taron standing there with plastic bags in his hands.

“In first, answer later.” Taron replied, clearly in discomfort as some bag handles were cutting into his hands from their weight. Nicola took a bag or two from him and led him into the kitchen. 

Nicola attempted to place the bags on the counter but inwardly cringed when she felt a tiny trickle. Taron noticed the flush of pink on her cheeks and the look of awkwardness on her face.

“You alright?” He asked with concern. Nicola closed her eyes, sighed and nodded.

“Watch her please, I’ll be right back.” Nicola answered, hurrying off to the safety of the bathroom. Taron shook his head and took all the food out of the bags so that Nicola could just place the items where they belonged later.

(This is what Luna is wearing in this chapter as it’s November and chilly outside.)

He was almost done when Luna grew agitated and started whimpering. He barely had enough time to place the eggs on the counter when Luna went from her softer whimpers to ear-splittingly loud. 

As soon as Taron reached her, he gently picked Luna up and cradled her in his arms but the position did nothing to calm her; and if it was even possible, Luna screamed even louder. Knowing that she was most likely hungry, Taron bent his little finger and placed his knuckle to the baby’s lips. This seemed to do the trick as Luna started sucking vigorously. 

“There we go.” Taron said as he looked down at his daughter. He could feel his heart melt at the sight of her just as it had when he saw her for the first time, though seeing her without the small eye covers gave him a better view of her face and boy did she resemble him. There was no longer a doubt in his mind that this baby was his. 

It didn’t take long for Luna to figure out that there was no milk coming out of whatever she was sucking on which made her start to cry again.

“Give me a minute please Luna.” Nicola hollered from the upstairs bathroom. She had barely sat down when Luna started crying and of course that made her leak right through her top, so now she was having to quickly change and make herself presentable again before rushing back down to her child.

Taron softly chuckled at Nicola's response and laid Luna in his other arm before he began rocking Luna in the hopes that it would settle her just a little bit. The rocking didn’t work but as soon as Taron stepped up to the lounge room window, Luna’s crying dissipated somewhat.

(Minus the kiss on the cheek, this is how Taron is holding Luna up to the window.)

When Nicola had finished up, she made her way downstairs. She was glad that the crying stopped but she had wondered how Taron had defused the situation. Her question was answered when she peered around the corner to see Taron standing at the window with Luna in his arms. 

She could hear him asking Luna questions in a voice she hadn’t heard before but filled her heart with love. 

“Shall we go and check on mam?” Taron asked the baby one last time. Luna simply blinked slowly at him and that’s when Nicola made her presence known.

“Can I start calling you the baby whisperer?” Nicola teased, taking Luna from Taron. Taron rolled his eyes playfully.

“She just wanted to see the bird.” He replied. Nicola smirked and sat on the sofa.

“I’m going to unpack the rest of the groceries if you need me.” Taron said, making his leave. Nicola smiled and got herself and Luna ready for a feed.

=

“Right, she’s down now.” Nicola said, walking into the kitchen to find Taron boiling the kettle. She looked at him waiting for an explanation as to why he had bought her groceries for the next few weeks.

Taron got the hint and began to speak.

“I figured you may need some food, so I went shopping.” He answered. She raised her brow in amusement.

“You bought me cabbage?” She questioned, almost gagging at the thought of having to eat them.

“After telling me earlier that you were hurting, I remembered mam telling Kate that cabbage was a good remedy. I couldn’t remember what kind of cabbage to get though, so I got all of them.” He explained. Nicola felt a smile grow on her lips. She wanted to thank him but she knew her words would probably fail her so she did the next best thing.

She cautiously moved toward him and placed a gentle kiss to his cheek. The small gesture making both their stomachs flip with anticipation. 

“Thank you.” Nicola spoke in a hushed tone. 

The warmth of her breath against his cheek made Taron want to grab her and kiss her but he knew that he had to fight it. He didn’t want to jeopardize any chance of being with her again and he feared that if he pounced on her, he’d definitely lose her. Nicola’s mind on the hand whirled with the same what-ifs as Taron’s. She really wanted to kiss him but she didn’t know if she’d scare him off and after what he had done for her today, she’d hate for Luna to lose out on a father.

Glancing up into Taron’s eyes, Nicola was unsure of what she’d see; but when she saw that his eyes mirrored the same desire she felt within the very depths of her soul, she tenderly caressed his cheek and moved her hand until it was resting at the nape of his neck. Taron’s eyes slipped shut at the feel of her skin against his. He had desperately missed how perfectly her body fit against his, how her heartbeat seemed to magically sync to his own. He missed the sound of her laughter, the way she spoke his name so melodically, the way her perfume would send his mind into frenzy as though it was the drug he always craved but most of all, he missed the way her lips would meet his in a symphony of butterflies elegantly dancing around for only them to feel. 

As their faces drew closer together, Nicola could feel Taron’s shallow and shaky breath on her lips. This made her heart rate spike as the familiar sparks of arousal surged through her veins like nothing she had known before. She wanted to feel his lips on hers. No, she needed to feel his lips on hers.

“Please.” Nicola mumbled as her lips grazed Taron’s. Taron didn’t need to be told twice but when he went to close the gap, Nicola’s body slowly moved back; as though her brain wanted to test Taron to see how far he would go for her.

Taron allowed his hands to reach up to Nicola’s face and to the sides of her neck where he returned the tender touch Nicola had given him previously. His thumbs gently ran over her cheeks as he finally brought his lips to hers, kissing her delicately.

=

Meanwhile at school, Jasmine and Mikey sat in the classroom after Mikey had gotten hit in the face with a soccer ball during lunchtime recess. Normally Mikey would keep playing but this particular hit to the face caused the little boy to lose his first tooth. It was something that he didn’t expect which made him cry.

“It’s ok Mikey.” Jasmine told him, trying her best to comfort him. Mikey shook his head.

“It’s gone.” He cried. Jasmine gave him a hug in the hopes that it would help but when it didn’t, an idea popped into her head.

Jasmine gathered all of her strength in her index finger before hooking it behind one of her bottom teeth, ripping the little sucker clean out. She didn’t care that there was blood as all she cared about was the fact that Mikey had now stopped crying.

Ivy and Isla saw Jasmine’s actions and went to find their teacher.

“Well now, you two better come with me.” Mrs. Lewis said as she followed Ivy and Isla to where the toothless twins were. 

Once they reached the classroom, Mrs. Lewis had the children sit down while she filled out an accident report out for Mikey and made sure that Jasmine’s bleeding stopped.

“It’s not bleeding.” Jasmine announced as she showed her teacher the bloody tissue. Mrs. Lewis tried not to gag or cringe.

“Good to hear. Go throw that out and get yourself ready for class. Mikey, you can go with her.” The teacher said. The friends nodded and walked out of the room as though nothing happened. 

===

End Note: 

~I know that the situation between Mikey and Jasmine may seem unrealistic but in actual fact, I had a friend in primary school who had gotten a soccer ball to the face and it knocked his tooth out. The only difference with this scene is that Mikey cries and my friend didn’t.

~The whole scenario with Jasmine ripping her tooth out is something that I actually did to myself when I was around her age. My tooth was not at all loose and yes there was blood but for some odd reason, it didn’t really phase me.

===

Tag List: @sarahegerton96​ @dangerouslcve​ @hitmeonmytspot​ @holdmeclosertinytaron​ @superthiccthighssavelives​ @uniquebeautyqueen​ @dogmom2014​ @stronglyobsessed​ @rocknrollmadden​ @jolovesfandoms​ @dontblinkumightmiss​ @lovefortaron89​ @dragonstarre​ @hauntedflamingo​ @aberystwythboy​ @jobanan23​

[riddlesandqueries]

Confrontation

Tracking down a secret admirer is no easy feat, but any reward worth having is a reward worth working for, even if it takes a few months: sometimes, you just have to gamble on it.

An interaction between Mr Edward Nygma, and Mr James Craddock, for your reading pleasure, between two scoundrels in search of life’s delights.

The Ghost was a hard man to pin down.

By his nature, he was a wanderlust. He moved where the money was; flitting between cities, countries, and continents, never content to stagnate. There were a few things he was guaranteed to materialize for, though: horse races, expensive antiques, and important news. He was a habitual horse better who had scarcely missed an important race in the continental United States, and had a mysterious fixer he’d mentioned once or twice by the name of Squire Shade. 

And, as it so happened… Just a few miles south of Gotham, on a bright and unusually warm February morning, a derby was taking place. It’d been greatly publicized the past few weeks, as it was an annual and highly contested event, and would make prime bait for anyone who happened to know Craddock’s gambling habits. 

And there were some quite clever men out there who would hold an interest in that sort of thing… 

The air was clear, the wind was a little chilly this early in the morning, and the sun cheerfully shone, promising to warm up the stands; the crowd of a few thousand tramped through the dirt, milling around with one another whilst the racers readied themselves and the stands were slowly opened to spectators. It seemed almost like a festival; a little snapshot of a traditional spring carnival. Vendors sold merchandise, food, and drinks to patrons, and, of course, the stadium doled betting slips for the gambling patron. The air buzzed with electric interest; anticipation sparked off of everyone’s lips. 

No sign of the Gentleman Ghost for the moment… but that was the thing about ghosts, wasn’t it? They didn’t show themselves unless they wanted to. 

==

If you wait in the right place, they’ll come.

Edward eyed the odds sheets with a wry smile, nostalgic. How his father loved listening to him prattle as a child, looking over the betting forms and picking his dear Pop a winner just about every time. It was a fun experience for them both: a few hours together, a few thrown races to sweeten the pot, and then a jackpot here and there just to even things out...and a very fair cut for young Edward’s good work, as a simple sno-cone wouldn’t suffice.

Calmly, he glanced over his betting slips: broad coverage, but he’d put his money on a mid-range racer. Mint julep in hand, he meandered off to find a good seat with some elbow room.

==

The ambient anxiety of the crowd was only growing; people with prying eyes looking towards the starting gates, craning their necks to see even though there was nothing yet to even look at. 

The crowd was thick, but not so thick as to swallow up every seat. Edward had arrived early enough to get a spot that wasn’t too far, wasn’t too close, and where he wouldn’t be browbeaten by the sun that was steadily rising. 

About five minutes before the start of the race, there was just the smallest glimpse— something that could be ignored if a person wasn’t looking for it. A shimmer in the air, above the stands— that looked, for just a moment, like a billowing cloak, before winking out. 

He was here, it seemed, cutting it close… But didn’t see fit to grace the populace with his signature, ghostly physique. 

==

Ah. There he was: and who needed a seat when the air itself was at your command?

Edward watched him for a moment, sighing inwardly. Was it nice, he wondered, to fly? Was it relaxing, tiring, how did it feel to place your body in any relation with the world you wanted? Perhaps it was different when one was non-corporeal, but was it like zero-gravity? Something else, more elusive and yet even more wonderous?

Something as simple as existing in one’s own capacity was beautiful, really, when in the right eyes. It was something he might know someday, but for now, he could dream freely about how much magic there was yet to be found.

Smiling, he stuck his forefingers in his mouth and gave a whistle.

==

It drew looks from people who were close by, made curious by the sound, but they quickly disregarded it as the horses and jockeys began to get to their positions. 

He had gotten someone’s attention, though. A moment later, there was a soft voice in Edward’s right ear, disembodied but familiar; “Why, I didn’t know you liked the races, Mr. Nygma. Fancy seeing you here…” 

==

“Are you kidding?” he smiled. “My father and I had some of our best times at the races: I was his best bookie. Join me, James? There’s plenty of seats.”

==

“Is that right…?” 

Craddock seemed to consider the offer for a moment. Then, to Edward’s right, the empty seat became suddenly occupied with the familiar attire of the Gentleman Ghost. He fidgeted in his opacity, seeming a little uncertain whether he really wanted to be opaque, but settled. 

“You’ll excuse my rudeness in having been hidden,” Craddock murmured. “I get looks, you know. I’m a little overdressed in some areas, and underdressed in others.”

==

“That happens to me sometimes. When it does, I just ask why they decided not to look good today, and it usually gets them to back off.” he chuckled, fiddling with his cuffs. “It’s a mark of your caliber as a person, James: no need to hide your class.”

Underneath the thick veneer of charm, Edward fidgeted, excited. By all accounts, James had to be the secret admirer. He had to be. Was he? No doubt about it but maybe? Had to be, and how exciting: one ought to flirt a little and be sure.

With another sip of his julep, he gestured toward the starting gates. “Have you got a favourite? I’ve put the bulk of my faith in 1,000 Deaths.”

==

“I appreciate the words, but no matter how nice my garments or how upright I carry myself, the average mortal tends to be put off by…” he gestured vaguely to his face. “Ah, well.” 

He seemed to think for a minute, but it had always been hard to read James’s thoughts with no visible face. 

“Most of my stake is on Whetstone,” Craddock obliged. “Handsome thing. A very strong lineage, though quite young… not the favored to win, but still with a chance.” 

The announcer began speaking; the stadium chatter dampened, just for the moment. The tension was palpable, and James leaned forward, knee starting to bounce in impatience. 

==

“Whetstone, hm? I put a smaller bet on him, just to keep my options broad.”

I wonder if he’s watched the lineage line of all of these horses. He’s been around long enough, he could easily trace which racer’s from which stock. My word, he probably knows these horses’ family trees for winning pedigrees…

He settled back, brows raised as his mind bussed off merrily about horse family trees, but tuned back in at the opening trumpet. Setting aside his drink, Edward braced his elbows on his knees, rapt.

“Good luck.”

==

The race was exceptionally quick— as derbies are supposed to be. Craddock kept the bench beneath him in a death grip, and he leaned so far forward that he might’ve toppled over.

His form was jittering— the material of his clothes starting to turn sludgy as his concentration waned. Had Edward’s attention been turned off the race and to his companion, he would’ve seen the featureless head of the Ghost flicker in-and-out of transparency; not long enough or solid enough to catch a good glimpse, but enough to signal his mind was elsewhere.

“Damnation!” was the Ghost’s hailing cry when Whetstone finished third, behind 1,000 Deaths and a hereto unmentioned horse called Brushed Gold. 

==

Tsking, Edward rolled his eyes and frowned at his betting slips. “So much for that…”

Loathe as he was to admit it, it was something he rather liked about the derby: there was always a chance he could be wrong, and that kept life fresh.

“That wasn’t even one of my picks. Luck certainly isn’t on my side here, hm?”

He had not, in fact, noticed the loosened grip on James’ form, eyes trained on the horses. With a scowl, he sipped his julep. 

“...Sorry for third place, chum.”

==

James gave a short, agitated sigh. “Shade will have staked everything on Brushed Gold. Mark my words. That bastard—”

He stopped short, and tilted his head in interest. Intrigue in anything other than the horses and their riders was a rare thing for him on a racetrack, but the julep had caught his eye. He hadn’t taken much notice of the concessions at these sorts of things before, a little preoccupied by more pressing matters— like whether Squire Shade had fixed this race, too.

“... Oh, what do you have there?”

==

“Oh, this?” he asked, lifting up his drink. “Mint julep, a derby tradition in the south. Of course, it’s out of place during April in the north, but why not have fun with the occasion? If I’m going to lose, at least I can enjoy my drink.”

He grinned a bit. “Want a sip?”

Can I contract illnesses from ghosts? Time to find out.

==

“... A little,” Craddock confessed. Again, he knew the sweet siren song of food and drink, and that it would never taste nearly as good as some corner of his mind remembered— but there was no harm in it. “I, too, would wish to dull the sting of my loss…” 

He would be having words with Shade soon, hopefully sometime before the bastard pinched every penny from his pocketbook… 

“... if you don’t mind?” 

==

“It’d be odd to ask and then not offer. Here.” he said, holding the glass over, straw presented. Ghosts were fascinating, really. Where did the drink go? He knew he didn’t really taste it well, but if the spirit was willing enough, would it compensate for the missing flesh?

Was this what people considered an indirect kiss?

...Be quiet, brain, don’t get all excited over inconclusive information.

“Have all you like.”

==

With a grateful nod, Craddock takes the glass. He takes a modest sip, the liquid suspended humorously in the air for a moment before it travels down an invisible windpipe and out of sight. 

“Oh,” he says, and he sounds strangely delighted. “Oh, I actually…”

The taste was more striking than he had suspected (which was not saying much— a mouthful was still no better than what he suspected a droplet or two would be) and it proved an unexpected pleasure.

“So interesting, on the tongue…” 

==

“You like that? It’s a very summery drink, always drunk at the Kentucky Derby.”

But I’m sure you knew that much.

“...I’m sorry, I have to ask...have you been following Whetstone’s family line through the racehorse generations?” Always with the questions: he even annoyed himself, now, with how he blurted them out. “Or any or all of them?”

==

He brightened.

His hat, of its own accord, lifted itself off his head and placed itself in his lap; he removed, from within it, a bleached-white pen and a colorless scratchpad.

“As a matter of fact,” he said. “I have. I don’t have my completed ancestry chart in front of me, but I still remember…”

He began drawing little boxes and lines, filling in a dizzying amount of names. The family tree branched into a maniacal, tangled root system.

“As you can see, there’s a few important derby wins by his ancestry… The earliest I can recall is 1897…” he paused, and started highlighting names.

“It’s a hobby of mine, tracing these. I did try ever so hard to get my horse’s lineage, to see if he had any interesting ancestry, but that never truly went anywhere…” 

==

Edward perked up in turn, in twinned delight of being on the mark with his suspicion and well-received in his query. Watching James draw out a lineage chart from memory was dazzling: his heart did a little leap to see his penmanship. Every detail was as enchanting as another, and he remembered so much so well..!

“What’s your horse’s name?”

==

He paused. The pad and pen returned themselves to his hat, which he placed on his head. 

“When I first realized I had the beast,” he admitted, “I was not feeling particularly… creative. I referred to it as ‘the Horse’ for some time…” He gave a slight laugh. “After calling it all sorts of things. Damnable creature. Demon from hell. Wicked beast from the underworld. After a while, just ‘my Steed’, and that stayed. I suppose I should get around to a proper name some day.” 

==

“...That does beg the question: was it always a skeleton, or was it a living horse at some point?” Edward wondered aloud, muttering into his glass. “And if it was a living horse, what compelled it to become a ghost..?”

After a moment, he shuddered. “I’m going to assume it’s just a necromancer’s experiment.” Much kinder to the mind than the notion of a vengeful horse, knowing the nature of such beasts. “M-moreover, horses don’t need names, strictly speaking, so long as they know who you’re talking to.”

==

James had opened his mouth to correct— but stopped just short of it.

He knew very well where Steed had come from— well, that wasn’t strictly true, but he knew why the beast came forth at his beckoning. 

But he got the feeling this was one thing that Edward would be happier not knowing. James was loathe to ruin that handsome look of interest etched on his face with an honest answer. 

As he stared a moment at Mr. Nygma’s face, James realized there would be an expectation to respond, and he mentally backpedaled to where the conversation had been.

O, Lord, let me keep my wits for just a moment longer… Don’t stare at his beguiling smile, Craddock. 

“Ah, yes, that’s reasonable. I have no other beast of burden, so Steed won’t be puzzled by the name.”

==

“It’s very cool that you can summon a horse, mind you.” Edward grinned, glancing up to look James in the monocle. “You’re...hah, well.” 

He turned to his julep again, hiding his smile. “...quite the interesting character, James. I appreciate your patience with all of my questions.”

==

“Ah, I am happy to answer them.”

He had asked for payment for such queries before— but it seemed a little ungentlemanly to ask now. Besides… this rather public place was not the kind of area to indulge… in that sort of payment. 

Scandalous. Imagine if Shade were watching…

He had started tinging that strange, mother-of-pearl pink for a short time again, before settling back to his normal coloration. There was a slight, almost unconscious tug at his collar.

“You’re one of very few whom I would share secrets and knowledge of this kind with— I consider you a valued friend, Mr. Nygma.” 

==

As out of his depth in the realms of romance as Edward tended to be, even he could parse out a blush when he saw one.

He hummed, inspecting the ghost for a moment before his lips curled into a broad, knowing smile. Smug as anything, detestable, and easily recognized as a magnet for many a fist.

“Something on your mind~?”

==

Oh, he did not like that facial expression. It made him think Edward knew something horrible and secret that he didn’t— James instinctively brought his hand to his face on the off-chance that he’d let his countenance run around unchecked.

No, that wasn’t it…

“Ah, no, I… was just wondering when the next race would…” he petered out, very well knowing that this lie was not going to get better the longer it went.

“...”

==

“Ah, right. Time to go place some fresh bets, is it?” he asked, duly ‘distracted’ from his line of query. Let it simmer a bit, and it’ll all come to a head. 

“I’m going to try out a few I’ve never heard of...call it an inspiration, given the last race. If some nobody’s going to win a surefire race like that, then it’s time to start paying more attention to the nobodies.”

==

Craddock nodded.

“Mine have been placed well in advance,” he murmured. “I’ll keep your place safe for you… ah, and perhaps get something for you to eat…?”

He seemed a little more subdued than usual— warily waiting for the bar of the Riddler’s suspected trap to spring. There was some small amount of dogged wariness and suspicion that’s readable just from his posture, even if his face gives nothing away. 

== 

“You’re right, I should.” said Edward, rising and stretching with a quiet grunt in his nose, a few joints popping. “If you don’t mind keeping the seat?”

==

“Of course,” he had no earthly idea what compelled him to add, in this non-violent crowd on a lovely, non-violent day— “Return safely…” 

People had already mostly drained out of the stadium, moving for snacks, souvenirs, collections of winnings, talk amongst themselves, or a bathroom trip. 

What does he know that I don’t…? 

==

“With any luck.” 

Edward gave a little wave as he meandered off, pondering his next bets as he walked, as well as whatever nightmares the concession stand might offer that resembled sustenance. A hot dog? Technically food, good enough. Nachos?

You should ask him, honestly. But is this the place and time?

...Truly, is there a better one? We’re face to face, so to speak, and it’s always better etiquette to ask in person rather than across the internet, especially with matters of the heart.

And he’s so...cute, really, when he’s flustered.

Just don’t scare him off by being a bastard, Edward, of all the things you could do…

He sighed, placing a few bets at random, as well as one on Whetstone, and then wandered back to his seat with his assortment of edibles.

==

Craddock was not alone on his arrival. As a matter of fact, it almost looked like seeing double.

Two men in mantled white coats and tall hats, sporting a signature eyepiece and no face… the differences were small, and only noticeable if searching.

The second wore a bow-tie instead of a cravat, wore glasses instead of a monocle, and was slightly bigger around the waistband than Craddock.

They seemed to be arguing. They had very similar voices and accents, too— though the double’s seems to be slightly richer, more aristocratic.

“I can’t give that to you,” Craddock was saying.

“You staked—”

“I know what I staked. Just take whatever you want from the mausoleum.” 

“But it’s a pain to go all the way out there…”

“A walk would do you some good, Shade—”

Shade, who had been occupying Edward’s seat, seemed to notice him coming.

“Later, then. Let’s hope Whetstone does better, mmm?” 

The second ghost took his leave, sinking back through the bleachers as if swallowed by quicksand.

Craddock turned, brightening noticeably on spotting Edward. “Mr. Nygma! You’ve returned— burdened with food.”

His voice implied a smile.

==

“If that’s what it can be considered.” he replied genially, inspecting his seat for ectoplasmic residue before taking his seat. “Associate of yours, James?”

Heaven forbid he call anyone a ‘friend’ offhandedly: that’d be presumptuous.

“Or just a copycat for fashion?”

==

James grimaced; not that Edward could tell.

“Associate is a good word for him… That was Squire Shade— I’m sure I’ve mentioned him before.”

He was concerned Shade’s presence might’ve bothered the mortal, and he carried on: “His was just a temporary darkening of my doorstep. He’ll collect his earnings and go back to Europe. It’s nothing to be concerned with…”

It occurs to him now to fish for whatever had Edward in such good spirits a moment ago. He’ll have to be subtle.

“... Especially not at the moment. Trustworthy company makes ugly company look all the worse, don’t you agree…?” 

==

“Nothing makes me appreciate a good cup of coffee like drinking a very bad one.” he agreed, settling back with his snacks. “Take what passes for my lunch today: eating this will make even the ordinary meal I’m having later taste even better than it already would.”

Truly, he didn’t mind Squire Shade as a concept, but there was something irksome about someone being in his seat, talking to his colleague (who sounded annoyed about it) that ruffled his feathers just a touch.

“Care for a nacho?”

==

“Oooh, yes. I’ve seen them before, but not tried one.” 

He took a chip, and in exchange returned the julep, which was looking a little less full than Edward remembered. 

“Oh, it crunches.” Ghost murmured, as if to himself. “Interesting…”

== 

Edward, noting the state of his julep, couldn't help but smile a bit as he nibbled his own chip. 

"You know, I could buy you a julep, if you would like one." Or does this one taste better because it's mine?

==

“I would,” he hazarded. “It’s rare I find something that I can taste and find worth tasting… I’d pay you for it, of course.” 

There was the loveliest little smile playing over Edward’s lips, and it made the Ghost’s stomach feel strangely warm. This was the kind of thing he would’ve taken a beau out for— a lovely warm spring day at the racetrack… James had courted many a lady in such a place, though never a gentleman overtly. 

Change subjects, James. 

“... I’ll confess I have not kept in touch as well as I should have,” the Ghost began. “How have things been in Gotham, lately?” 

== 

The proverbial trap twitched, as James asked just the right question. Edward's expression became downright sunny.

"It's been a very interesting few months, actually. I've been receiving these charming little notes from a secret admirer, and it's just been delightful for me. The mystery, the eloquence in wording, it's all been just so exciting! I've never had one before, have you?"

==

Oh no.

The Ghost could feel the bar of Edward’s trap moving to snap his neck, not unlike the noose that’d taken his life. His hands itched to touch his throat. 

“Oh, have you?” James mirrored the other man’s cheery disposition, seemingly unfazed. “That must be quite exciting. I do so love the intrigue, the romance of an unknown suitor— I received letters like that in my life, but not during my death.” 

==

"It's been absolutely compelling.” Edward agreed cheerily. “Of course, the one downside to the entire situation is not being able to know how to reciprocate, or whether I’d like to at all. It’s a good thing that this admirer’s classy, with a certain je ne sais quoi, otherwise I’d toss their work out along with all of the weird fan letters I used to get in Arkham.”

He sighed (if a pinch dramatically) and sipped his julep. “How can I ever respond to the anonymous? It’s like whistling into the wind.”

If you’re going to fess up, now’s your chance.

The wire creaked, threatening.

Confess.

==

Do ghosts sweat?

Well, they don’t, but Craddock definitely felt like he was. He knew he should say something— seize the opportunity now, while it was convenient… Edward had proved receptive, open—

But would it be the same if he knew it came from a ghastly spectre like myself?

“They haven’t left so much as a clue to their identity? How agonising…” 

Damnation, Craddock— the deeper you dig, the more difficult it will be to get out of…!

==

“They have. A few, actually.” he replied easily, listing on his fingers. “Familiar tone of address, so it’s someone I know. Recently discovered the anonymous feature, and their first instinct is to go send mischief to someone who’ll appreciate it. The real smoking gun, though, is the language choice. Antiquated, lyrical, boldly professing, dramatic...and not just anyone would lean on sending someone a flirty note a ‘ghastly’ action.”

Edward looked to James with a small yet infuriatingly knowing grin. “Sound familiar, James Craddock?”

==

Each word was like the footstep up to the noose, each one more damning than the last. James did start sweating about mid-way in, his form starting to wobble and bubble in a rather curious way. The unintentional salmon sheen his body took on only damned him more. 

“I,” he said, unintelligently. “I- It sounds… good sir… quite like you are… accusing me of… indecent behavior…”

It’s as flimsy an excuse as any that can be raised, but his instincts tell him to stall as long as possible.

The problem was he couldn’t just escape this as he might a persistent lawman… 

==

“An accusation would imply that it’s a bad thing.” said Edward, tone silky. “But, not to put too fine a point on things: if you have something to say, you’re allowed to say it to my face.”

==

The highwayman’s instinct was to escape and regroup when better prepared. Craddock’s not a coward, per se, but he knew how to preserve his own life— oh, hmm, poor metaphor, he supposed. He had self-respect enough to not partake in a losing battle.

But he knew that wouldn’t win him any favors. 

This was his stage— and he must perform.

“You are… interesting to me,” Craddock said, carefully. “In a way that few people were when I was alive… and even fewer now that I am deceased. Perhaps I might’ve… expressed unsolicited fondness— I have made mention before, mark you, that ghosts are prone to fits of melancholy… They swing to the other side of the pendulum, quite often, as well… and I was in a… joyous mood, a jocular type of…” 

He spared a fleeting wish that the next race would begin already. 

“... I meant nothing untoward by it.”

==

“...That is, perhaps, the most roundabout ‘yes’ I’ve heard in some time.” Edward murmured fondly. “But, ah...here’s some reassurance, as the recipient.”

Gently, he took Jame’s hand into his own, and kissed the top of his knuckles. Just so, just lightly, just enough.

“I like it, and I’m glad I was right to suspect you.” he said, patting James’ hand genially. “Feel free to continue, it makes my heart go pitter-pat.”

==

The rush of affection James felt was absurd.

First, like a fist to the stomach— then cloying and heady, sticking in his lungs and his brain. He received it well… he’s open to it… he...

Suspicion was there, but as an afterthought to the hope fluttering in his breast.

It’d been a long time since he’d had something like this, and as much as he liked to deny it, now that he was no longer flesh, the spirit grew strong— and it hungered for contact with the living, with the desperate ache of a lover separated from their beau. 

Before Edward’s eyes, the ghost seemed to melt— metaphorically, yes, and literally, as his body forgot its shape and began to run like syrup.

Just as quick, the ghost’s ectoplasm churned and retook its shape.

“My apologies, my apologies, ahh— if I had, known the reception would be— I never would have— So childishly...” He shied his head to the side. “Give me a moment, to— collect myself…” 

==

“Take your time.” said Edward, preoccupying himself with his lunch, hand still atop Jame’s.

He’s worried about seeming childish when I’m the one who makes games and puzzles and toys...who has the right to be so adorable?

Moreover, he gelled, which was fascinating to ponder. Ghosts blush. Ghosts have physical reactions to being embarrassed: bodywide, presumably because all they had was a manifestation of themselves, rather than a body to pilot from the heart and soul.

No wonder he hid his face: it took away the unspoken expressions that his own form could betray under duress.

“I find it charming, personally.”

==.

“Falling apart at the seams is not charming,” James muttered, insistently. “This is unbecoming for one such as I.” 

After a moment, he straightened, smoothing away a glob of ectoplasm back into his shoulder. He regained his composure.

“... I’m… happy you like it,” James admitted. “I haven’t courted— in quite some time, and it was jesting, partially— I didn’t think you would take it seriously.” 

==

“Well~. Do you want to make it more serious, or shall we have flirting? I’m content either way.”

I’d rather be serious, but no pressure. He knew he’d already had James raked across the coals today, no need to be overly pushy now that it’s in the open.

“I confess, I do admire you quite a bit myself! I hadn’t said much on it because, well... I always got caught up in the excitement of knowing you at all.”

He fidgeted a bit at that, quieting down: all the smug bravado in the world can’t make up for a weak and ill-timed admission.

“...If, that helps to know, any.”

==

“Not to put you on the spot… but does your admiration fall with me, or the nature of my person?” James asked, gently. 

==

“...Hm.”

Edward sat back, sipping his julep as he gave this some thorough consideration.

There was, without a doubt, a large fascination at play with the supernatural. Pretending it wasn’t would just be insulting to both parties, so nevermind to that: it’s given. But what is there besides that, to their dynamic?

Edward considered, eyes shut, on feelings. This was very different than his arrangement with Bruce, for the simple fact that there was no sense of tension or panic. This wasn’t the horrific grips of a crush, literally crushing his mind, this was...light, airy, cheerful, exciting. All of the good things they talk about with these sorts of situations. James was nice. James was fun, sneaky, pesky, patient, kind without sacrificing the fact that he was a bastard. It was comforting, really, to spend time with someone who kept himself to a certain standard even as a crook. It was...warm.

“...both, but there’s...warmth, here. Not like when I’ve got a new subject to study, of a new game to try out, or a new language to learn. This is excitement, but it’s...comfortable, too, if that makes sense. You’re good to me, and I like being around you.” he said, after a long pause. Brows furrowed, he added: “I have to admit...I don’t have much experience in affairs of the heart, so I don’t know if I’m making sense...but there’s more there than just discovery, even if I can’t name it.”

==

The Ghost nodded, as if Edward had relayed a truth he was already well aware of. 

“Your candor is…. Relieving,” he sighed. “I was not sure if you could feel that way for a spirit— or, if you did, it was only because of that.” 

There was a small pause.

“In honesty, part of my attraction to you is how… alive you are.” 

==

“How alive I am?” he asked curiously, offering the remains of the julep. There’s enough to be worth taking. “Is that why you keep taking my pulse?”

==

 He drank. 

“You have no idea how absolutely beautiful it is to be alive,” Craddock said, dreamily. He seemed a little faraway. “The smallest breath to me is the most wondrous thing. Your pulse… so sweet, Edward. So lovely.” 

==

Edward watched him, gaze softening from bright curiousity to tender affection. No matter how a busy mind could scream and over-analyze, there was little anyone could do about the honesty in their face.

Ah. That was it, wasn’t it? There was something, right there, that he adored. So many people he knew treated life like a calloused and dull affair to be tolerated, but James, just like Edward...James cherished life, its splendors, its opportunities. There was so much to enjoy about existing...was that what kept him all along? A love for life so strong that death couldn’t claim his heart?

“Mhm~?”

==

He seemed to shake himself out of it.

“It’s… I’m uncertain if this peculiar love is a common condition among ghosts, or just I that feels it. But it is… strong, and oh-so thrilling…”

There was the slight, pearly blush again. “I am sorry if I concealed part of the truth from you when asking for the payment I did, those months ago. It was… a lapse in judgement. Selfishness.”

==

“It doesn’t matter if it’s common among ghosts: it’s something I really like about you.” said Edward fondly. 

...is the pulse thing sexual, though? No, don’t ask him that. There’s more important questions, and those can wait too.

“I don’t mind the delay: being selfish is fun sometimes, isn’t it? I like that you’re a scallywag, too.”

==

He laughed. 

“One of the finest. You’re lucky.” 

His pride seemed to have recovered, twice-over; puffing like a particularly cocky rooster, primping himself now that Edward’s affections had been secured. 

==

“I most certainly am~” he smiled, awfully proud himself. There was the small issue of his other boyfriend, but there’s surely time enough to negotiate that after the glow’s settled out a bit. Either it will be or it won’t, but hopefully, since Selina’s in the picture for Bruce, perhaps Edward can have his cake and eat it too, just as well.

Thoroughly pleased with himself, Edward rubbed a thumb over James’ knuckles. “...I really did like those notes, you know. Made me feel special.”

==

“Well, you are,” James murmured. He lifted Edward’s hand, and with a moment of hesitation, pressed a kiss to his knuckles. The contact of his lips was as cold as the grave— and leathery as an old boot. 

“I could keep sending them, if you like it.” 

== 

He shuddered, as he always did at contact, but chuckled as well. Ah! He has lips! They’re freezing and tough: this is filed away immediately in his mind among other tidbits of interest.

“You should, especially since I would have little recourse but to send a few back myself.” assured Edward. “As I said before, it’s hard to reciprocate without an address to send notes to...and I’ve had time aplenty to accrue my compliments.”

==

“Ah, yes,” Craddock murmured to himself. “I… I should make a permanent residence in Gotham, shouldn’t I? There will be more reasons to visit now... more reasons to stay.” He seemed to be convincing himself into it, and with a determined lift of his chin, declared: “I’ll… make an effort to get a haunt of my own. I’m sure Shade knows mortals who handle that kind of thing…” 

His purse is curling up and dying at the thought— but he’d had a few lifetimes to get enough money for a proper home in Gotham. 

==

“Only if you want it in writing...and even then I could send it to wherever you want it to be sent.” said Edward calmly. “After all, if you’re visiting Gotham, there’s no need to go through all of the trouble of getting a place when you could just...visit mine.”

Again, that foul, smug smile of his has crept deep into his cheeks.

==

That did not seem to have occurred to him, busy grandly dreaming of a Gatsby-esque existence of quiet solitude and pining. It takes him a moment to recover. 

“... you seem like you’re suggesting something rather… crude, Mr. Nygma…” the smile bled through his voice. 

==

“I’m simply pointing out that I have a spare bedroom that is no longer occupied by a massive computer array.” he said primly, eating a nacho before continuing. “And that it’s pragmatic to offer it as space, in the event that you’d rather not go through real estate paperwork.”

==

“Mmm, a massive computer array,” Craddock seemed quite merry. “So I’m not the first love you’ve invited there.”

He had a small mouthful of julep. He couldn’t tell if it actually made his hunger for taste any better or worse. He had another mouthful.

“The proposition is interesting, anyway. I’m sure the arrangement would be beneficial to both of us.”

He’s outright teasing now.

==

“Computers aren’t my first love, and that one, well...came with a rather long story attached, that’s for another time, where I’m less sober and more irate.”

It did, however, seem to be the time to mention…

“There might be a hiccup, mind you, in this cozy little affair here...you see, I was asked out by another suitor on Valentine’s day, days after you sent your first messages.” Edward admitted, if a bit grimly. “Mind you, he himself has another he sees, so naturally I’ll have to ask him if an arrangement between you and I would offend...I don’t see why he’d decline it, but it’s only respectful to ask first.”

He mulled over a nacho, frowning slightly. “And if he says no, I have a lot of thinking to do...and for once, I’d really rather not.”

==

Ah, was any giddy leap complete without a plummeting fall?

Was he disappointed? Yes.

Was he crushed? Not quite.

“Hnnm,” he said, the extent of his verbal acknowledgement. “Oh, look. The next race is about to start.” 

==

Ah. There it was, the rare and unmistakable sensation of guilt, settling thickly into the pit of his stomach.

“So it is. Have you got any new bets?”

At least that was a nice five minutes...and, as always, at least we have the now.

==

“I sunk a fairly consistent amount into Whetstone,” James’s fingers rolled an interesting tattoo across his knee. 

James wasn’t unfamiliar with the idea of polyamory. He knew the women he saw during his life had an endless string of boyfriends, and he was only one of the mob. He knew the men he’d courted, so carefully and privately, had their heart’s desire elsewhere. It was not new to him. 

But he had thought that maybe…

...

He didn’t feel much like watching the race anymore. Losing to Squire Shade would be grating, and Edward…

Stick it out, James. This is far from the worst outcome of today. 

==

“I gave him a fresh bet for this race, myself.”

Damn it. Damn it all to absolute Hell, in what world was it fair to spend 37 years in ambivalence only to come around and find any affections at last split between two? And now, lurching around in him, was the maelstrom of doubt and humiliation, the latter ten times worse than the former in any capacity. The silence was deafening, the mood wrecked: he’d ruined everything as usual by saying too much.

Let go of his hand and stop disappointing people, Edward.

==

Ghost, meanwhile, is silently rationalizing a mile a minute.

Who is this other? How do I compare? Is he Edward’s first choice?

Then, a small, unusual part of his psyche chimed in with his criminally underdeveloped sense of empathy:

Does choosing hurt him?

That was a disturbing thought. 

He ought to withdraw, kindly, as a gentleman. This other, whomever they might be, would be the ideal choice— mortals are better paired with mortals.

A thought occurred to him— solace, comforting as a frostbitten man seeking fire, or the heat-scorched for shade. James let out a small, kindly little laugh. It rings, clear and gleeful, like a bell.

==

The laugh snapped Edward out of his spiral of self-loathing, frown lifting from explicit discomfort to bemusement. 

“...um...yes?” he offered, curious. “What is it?”

==

“That doesn’t matter,” James said, swallowing the last of his laughter. “Oh, God, it doesn’t matter at all to me.”

He took Edward’s hands in his, stared at him directly— there was a flicker of something there for a fraction of a second, like a reflection in a mirror passing by. Dark, intent eyes, haunting for just a moment…

“You’re speaking to one of the most selfish, stingy men on the planet, Edward— did you think jealousy would seize me so hard that I’d be struck stupid? I’d be a fool to lose this—” he gestures between the two of them, “—over something so small. I don’t care who they are, I don’t care that you love them— it’s enough that you love me.” 

==

Edward’s eyes were open, jaw slacked and mouth agape in wonder of what he’d just been told, as the trumpets sounded to queue the racers to their starting gates. A flush crept easily across his nose and cheeks as he began to smile once more.

“Really?! You mean it?”

==

“Yes, really. Who would say something like that and then recant it?” Perhaps a bit harsh, but the Ghost was buzzing with nervous energy. “I’ll accept whatever you give me, Edward. It’s enough that it’s anything at all.”

==

“You’d be amazed by how many people tend to say things without thinking them through.” he breathed, cheeks pink and eyes bright in excitement. “I, I have to admit, I thought you were about to drop the whole thing then and there.”

==

I was, he almost said, but that would win him no favors. 

“I am cognizant of my faults,” Craddock said, instead. “I’m far, far too selfish for that.” 

==

“Aren’t I lucky, then, that you are.” he chuckled, utterly relieved. “And people talk like it’s a bad thing, to want and keep things.”

There is a sneaking feeling in the back of his mind that James is putting on a brave front, but then, so is Edward: there’s an open end that cannot be resolved immediately, therefore it’s best not picked at, so much as treated and patched until real answers can be gotten.

“I don’t think it’s a fault, when it’s honest.” BANG, and the horses are off.

=end=

[cgleome]

Where We Left Off (Asra/Fem Apprentice)

One night the apprentice starts to “notice” Asra. She doesn’t remember their history, but she can’t deny her attraction to him. WARNINGS: SMUT

Asra and his apprentice sat in the kitchen around the fire. Asra was knitting a sweater for his apprentice though he hadn’t told her what it was yet, hoping to keep it a surprise. His apprentice was reading a spell book he’d given her. Although Asra had encouraged her to take a break from her studies, she found magic fascinating and was actually enjoying the book. It was a cool night and they had a fire going to keep warm, the light of which was enough to allow them to see. The apprentice had just finished an exceptionally dense passage and looked away from her book in an effort to absorb it. As she did so, her eyes landed on Asra. Although, at first, it was just a coincidence that he happened to be in her line of sight, eventually she couldn’t help but notice him. Of course she had seen him before, in fact she’d seen so much of him that, in a way, she never really saw him. Now, suddenly, she became very much aware of just how attractive he was. The light from the fire danced over his features, highlighting them and making him appear almost otherworldly. His lips were so gorgeous. So inviting with a natural pout to them. She began to wonder just what they would feel like against her own. She had never been kissed, as far as she could remember. She wondered what it would feel like, particularly with Asra.

Her eyes traveled down to his open shirt. How could he be so lean and muscular with no apparent effort? She knew enough of magic that she would know if he was using magic to alter his appearance. No, this was clearly Asra’s real body and he must be aware of just how attractive he was. Why else would he show so much of his chest so often?

Suddenly it seemed strange to imagine that she would be sharing a bed with him tonight. Although they had done so for as long as she could remember, somehow it felt different tonight. How could she possibly be the one he was closest too? How could someone so handsome be so invested in her? The feeling was bittersweet somehow. Certainly Asra could take any lover he wished. Why wasn’t he? Was she standing in his way? He couldn’t very well bring a lover to the shop while she was there. Perhaps that was why he traveled so often. Did he have a lover he met? Possibly more than one? She didn’t like the thought but also knew she had no right to ask or even to care and she frowned despite herself.

Naturally, Asra was well aware that his apprentice was looking at him. He was not sure why but privately he quite enjoyed it and wanted to invite more of her gaze. Although it was chilly, he removed his wraps and stretched. He leaned back in his chair, spreading his arms and offering the apprentice a generous view of his chest. He ran his hands through his hair, stretched again, and smiled over at her only to see a small frown on her face.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, as his expression grew serious.

“Do I get in your way?” She managed to ask, though it was obviously a difficult thing for her to bring up. 

“Of course not!” Asra replied, his eyebrows raised with surprised as he stood quickly, moving over to caress her hair and reassure her. “My life is only complete because you’re in it… But why are you asking me this? Did I do something to upset you?”

Asra’s hand had moved under her chin, keeping her gaze fixed on him. For some reason, her skin seemed unusually sensitive. His touch was both too much and not enough and she had to fight the urge to press his hand more firmly against her face. 

“I… was just thinking… it’s a shame for you to be alone. I mean, you can’t exactly get married or bring anyone home with me living here…”

Asra frowned. This would not be a simple question to answer. How could he tell her how much she meant to him? He couldn’t tell her that he’d given half of his own heart to keep her with him. Every time he brought up her past, she doubled over in pain and he did not want to risk hurting her. He didn’t trust himself to speak without betraying his own emotions. His chest ached, yearning to tell her everything. He hid his feelings behind a smile that made his eyes all but disappear. Standing up to gently stroke her hair once more.

“I’m going to bed,” he told her in a jovial tone. “Will you be up for a while?”

“No,” she replied. “I’m coming up now too.”

Her answer was almost automatic. Truthfully, she wasn’t at all tired but really, she still wanted to be close to him.

Asra smiled, putting the fire out with a wave of his hand.

Though they had followed a similar routine since the apprentice had woken up with him, for some reason, she could feel her heart racing as they made their way up the stairs to their shared room.

She entered the bathroom alone, bringing her pajamas with her and did her best to calm herself while she prepared for bed. Part of her wished that Asra had picked tonight to be away so she would not have to face him. She wondered how he would respond if she reached for him in their bed, touching his chest and pressing her lips to his. It seemed wrong and she knew it and yet it would be so easy and was oh so tempting. 

She looked herself over in the mirror and sighed softly. She was no match for Asra. He was so impossibly handsome. It really was unfair that he should waste his time living and sharing a bed with someone like her.

She entered the bedroom and Asra smiled as he made his way past her to take his turn in the bathroom. He casually ran his fingers across her shoulders as they passed one another and he gave her a warm smile when she turned towards him.

Somewhere outside, music began to play. It was a festival time of the year and although there had not been any major celebrations since the plague, small impromptu celebrations had become more and more common.

Asra exited the bathroom and began to dance in time to the music. He was not wearing anything above the waist, the way he preferred to sleep, and only loose pants that swayed as he moved. Although he had rarely danced since the plague, he was still very talented and aware of what his body could do to others. He moved almost like Faust in a smooth snake-like manner similar to a belly dance. Hiis hips swayed and he moved his arms out in time to the music.

The apprentice caught her breath as she watched him and only hoped that he did not notice. She looked away when he turned towards her, hoping that he wouldn’t notice her flustered reaction. 

“I haven’t danced in so long, I’m afraid I’ve lost my touch,” he blushed slightly, feeling a bit foolish as he climbed under the covers of their shared bed.

The apprentice didn’t turn towards him, as he entered the bed. Her back was stiff and she seemed to be making every effort to ignore him. Clearly whatever had troubled her earlier was still on her mind.

“Oh dear,” Asra frowned as he turned towards her gently running a hand down the back of her head. “You’re unusually thoughtful tonight. Why don’t you tell me truthfully what’s bothering you?”

The apprentice did not turn around or respond to his touch. She remained just as frozen as she had been when he entered the bed.

“You know so much about me,” she spoke without turning towards him. “You know more about me than I know about myself. And yet I know almost nothing about you.”

“What would you like to know about me?” Asra asked casually. “While I might not tell you everything, I would never lie to you.”

The apprentice drew a breath. The question she most wanted to ask burned in her mind: “Do you have a lover? Do you want one?” Yet, she could not bring herself to ask such a thing so she decided to be less direct.

“Where do you go when you leave?” She asked in a blunt tone, hoping that would help to keep him from knowing this was not really what she wished to ask.

Asra’s frown deepened and he was thankful that she couldn’t see his face. He didn’t want her to see how disappointed he was.

“It’s not something you need to worry about,” he replied softly, gently stroking her hair once more. “You just need to stay safe. And I’ll do my best make sure that nothing happens to you.”

“You never answer my questions directly,” she replied in a tone that was a mix of anger and resignation. She still did not move or respond to his touch. 

“But that is not really what you wanted to ask me, is it?” came Asra’s response and even without looking at him, the apprentice could hear the sly smile in his voice.

She drew a breath of surprise that she knew he could not miss when they were so close together. Really, how did he know her so well?

Finally, she turned around to face him, looking directly into his eyes.

“You didn’t answer me earlier,” she pointed out firmly. “Do you have a lover? Is that who you visit when you’re away? Or do you have more than one?”

Her tone was angry and accusatory, even though she knew she had no reason to be. It felt good to finally release everything that she’d been holding in that night and perhaps some deep-seated frustration that she’d felt even longer.

Asra’s body responded to her words and he suddenly felt much too warm, even on such a chilly night. He was suddenly very much aware of her in ways he fought constantly not to be. She was so close to him. He lay on his side and the hand that had touched her hair suddenly felt empty and awkward. It would be so simple to reach down and touch her. So natural even. She was jealous and somehow that released something inside Asra that he fought constantly to hold back. He yearned to kiss her and to reassure her that she was the only one he would ever want. He wanted to tell her everything and let his body convince her of things words never could. He froze, torn between his desire to act and the knowledge that he shouldn’t. She had been so dependent on him, since he had brought her back, it almost felt wrong, as though he would be taking advantage of her. And, if she started to remember, she would get hurt again.

The apprentice saw his inaction and read it as surprise. She never expected he would answer her and knew that once he regained his composure, he would likely turn away and tell her goodnight with no further explanations. She decided to take advantage of the unusual surprised and vulnerable state he was in. 

“Did I ever have a lover?” She asked, still not anticipating an honest reply.

Asra looked deep into her eyes now. His gaze was so intense that she couldn’t look away. He hoped that his eyes could convey the things he couldn’t bring himself to put into words. 

“You did,” he answered, no longer able to hold himself back. “And he loved you very deeply in return.”

The apprentice was so shocked by this information, her mind went blank for a moment. It wasn’t just what Asra had said, but the fact that he answered at all that surprised her. She knew better than to try too hard to remember. She knew that it would hurt if she did. She tried to hold on to this information and think only of what it meant for her now.

“Did he die in the plague?” She asked, wondering why her lover was no longer in her life. 

“No,” Asra answered, hoping that if he told her what she wanted to know, it might keep her from trying too hard to remember on her own.

“Well where is he now?” She demanded. “Did leave me when I lost my memories? Why don’t I know him?!”

“He did not abandon you,” Asra assured her, reaching out to caress her cheek once more. His touch was gentle and his hand trembled slightly. He was afraid to touch her, worrying both that he would hurt her and that she might slap his hand away, seeing how upset she was. “He did leave the city when the plague came, and it was the greatest mistake he ever made. He will spend the rest of his life trying to make it up to you.”

The apprentice shook her head. How could Asra be so certain? Whatever he’d done, she was certain she could forgive him if he loved her so much and wanted to make amends. 

“Do I know him? Why has he never told me this? Why did you never tell me?”

“You know him. But he knows that your headaches come when you try to remember. He has attempted to tell you before but your headaches come until you are forced to forget. He does not wish to hurt you and so he must keep his feelings to himself.”

The apprentice thought for a moment. Still, fighting not to try to remember but to figure it out based on what she knew now. She thought about everyone she knew. Anyone that might fit Asra’s vague description. Who did she know who cared the most for her? Who could she most easily believe would build a life around her, even if she could never return their feelings?

She had been looking away as she thought but then she turned her gaze back to Asra and their eyes met. She saw in him everything she needed to know.

“It’s you, isn’t it?” she asked, even though she already knew the answer. That was why he had not answered her question about a lover earlier. That was why he was so devoted to her and why he did not seem to mind forgoing a relationship and a life with someone else for her. It was so obvious now, she wondered why she hadn’t seen it sooner.

Asra reached out, gently caressing her cheek, unable to stop himself. He looked into her eyes, debating whether or not he should answer her and what to say if he did. She looked captivating in that moment. What would she say now that she knew? Would she reject him? Would her headaches return?

The apprentice looked away, trying to process what she had just learned.

“How close were we?” She asked, sadness crossing her features for the first time. “Do you still love me?” 

“I’ve always loved you,” Asra replied moving closer so that she could feel his breath against her lips. “We were not as close as I would have liked… I believe I might have loved you from the moment I saw you, but we had known one another for years before anything grew between us. We had only just discovered our love when the plague struck the city…”

Asra shook his head, wondering if he should continue. 

The apprentice wanted to know more, but she remembered Asra’s warning about the headaches… and there was something else on her mind. Something that had been growing inside of her all evening.

“Did we ever kiss?” She asked, bringing Asra’s attention back to her and away from his thoughts. 

“Yes,” Asra answered, a smile tugged at his lips despite himself as the memory of it returned to him. How he wished things had been different. How he wished she had come with him, that the plague had never come, that they could have been happy together like he always wished.

“Did we ever do more?” She asked, a playful smile coming to her face now as she imagined all the lovely things that could have transpired between them.

“No,” Asra answered, and regret seeped into his voice. “Not physically.”

“Would you like to?” She asked, moving to kiss him before he could reply. 

Asra gasped into the kiss when their lips met. Of course he loved her, of course he wanted her, but he had not allowed himself to dream of this actually happening since the apprentice had risen from the dead. She was too confused and almost child-like. It would be wrong, and he loved her too much to take advantage of her. This was so sudden that his mind was reeling. But by the Arcana her lips were soft and he wanted her much too much to resist.

The apprentice pressed her body flush against his and Asra began to tremble. His hand fell to her waist as he eagerly returned her kiss. His body moved slightly, wishing to feel every inch of her against him. He opened his mouth to brush his tongue against her lips. He wanted to be closer to her in every way. This had to be a dream but it was such a good one that he began to moan torn between wanting more but wanting to savor her all at once. He couldn’t bear to be the only one feeling this way. He needed to make her moan as well.

He kissed her cheek and moved down to her neck. The hand on her waist slipped under her shirt and Asra moaned against her mouth when he felt her warm smooth skin. He had longed to touch her like this for so long and now it was hard to believe that this was real and she was really permitting him to do this. That she wanted this and was practically begging for more. 

The apprentice shifted a little, putting a leg over Asra and causing him to break the kiss as he threw his head back in a loud moan. Although they were still fully clothed, Asra could feel her warmth against the most sensitive part of his body and the feeling was almost more than he could take.

The apprentice looked at him, taking in every detail of his handsome face, which had become even more attractive now that he was aroused. His cheeks were slightly flushed and, if she didn’t know better, she’d swear his skin had taken on a glow, as if he was about to break into a sweat. Normally Asra was so poised and confident, it was strange to realize how quickly she had undone him. There was something exhilarating about it that left her wanting more. She didn’t have long to think it over before Asra began to gently more his hips against her causing her to tremble and cling to him as if her life depending on it. The apprentice had never touched herself there, as far as she could remember, but all the frustration that had been slowly building since she woke up was now coming to the surface and it was almost too much for her to take.

It was Asra’s turn to smile at how aroused she was, though it was more of a smirk, a feeling of pride that he was permitted to see her like this, that he was the one making her feel this way and the he knew he was about to make her feel even better.

“You look so beautiful,” Asra spoke in a breathy voice as his hands traveled up the sides of her body moving dangerously close to her chest.

“Asra!” She gasped and there was a pleading in her voice. She wanted something though she didn’t quite know what it was. Suddenly the feeling of her shirt against her chest was both too much and not enough.

“Yes!” Asra answered her unspoken request. He captured her lips once more and his hands softly moved to cup her breasts. He was being so careful with her. He knew she wanted this but she was so precious to him. Ever since she had come back to him, he was afraid of losing her. Even now, he treated her like something fragile that might fall apart if he handled her too roughly. 

Asra let his thumbs caress her nipples, causing the apprentice to shutter and grind against him more forcefully. 

Asra smiled against the kiss and began to touch her more firmly. While he was far from rough with her, he was no longer teasing and testing her responses, but pleasuring her in earnest. He moved his thumbs quickly over her nipples before rubbing them between his forefingers and thumbs. He flicked them quickly, loving how hard they’d become under his touch.

With a growl, Asra lifted her shirt over her head and tossed it aside. Somehow the act of doing this excited him more than he’d expected. His apprentice was now topless and aching for his touch and Asra was only too happy to oblige.

Asra lowered his face to her chest and began to flick his tongue over her chest. His fingers continued to work her other breast and then he switched sides and the cool air hit the apprentice’s now-wet nipple, she cried out and bucked against Asra’s leg once more.

For his part, Asra was in heaven. His apprentice was clinging to him and calling his name while he pleasured her. He wanted her so much, wanted her for so long and by the Arcana she was sensitive and so willing to accept the pleasure he was giving her. 

“That’s it,” Asra sighed as he pulled away and adjusted their position so that the apprentice was now laying on her back and he could hover over her. “I want to make you feel good. Just relax and let me give you pleasure.” 

As he spoke, Asra trailed his fingers down between her breasts towards the ties on her shorts. He carefully opened the ties and pulled them away.

Feeling the cool air on her most sensitive areas, the apprentice trembled and spread her legs without meaning to and Asra gasped at the view she was now offering him. He wanted nothing more than to ravish her right then, but he loved her enough to take his time.

Asra breathed her name as he lowered his face and began to kiss her inner thigh. His apprentice was making soft sounds of pleasure and her legs began to tremble as he kissed her, moving closer to her core but avoiding it for some time. He wanted this to last, though perhaps this desire was more for himself than for her. Finally, Asra moved his lips over her most private area. He let his breath ghost over her, taking in her scent and the view of her before sticking out his tongue and slowly licking her.

The apprentice let out a loud cry of pleasure and her hips began to move on their own, seeking more of that delicious wet contact. Asra let her set the pace, flicking his tongue but making no move to control her hips or their pace. She was pressing herself against him almost roughly but this only excited the magician more. He loved seeing how frantic she was becoming and reached up to tease her nipples while she fucked his tongue.

“ASRA! ASRA!” She cried desperately getting closer and closer to something she deeply desired but didn’t understand.

Asra moaned against her, sending vibrations to her core. He knew she was close and he moved one of his hands from her chest, sticking a finger between her legs. This was all the apprentice needed to send her over the edge. Her body clamped down on Asra’s finger as she shook and she cried out.

Asra moaned as he continued to lick, allowing her ride out her orgasm on his mouth and hand. When he was satisfied that she was finished, Asra kissed her one last time before licking his lips and pulling back from between her legs. He whispered a spell to protect them both, in case the apprentice wanted to go even further.

“Would you like more?” Asra asked with a wicked look in his eyes as he moved over her, wrapping one arm around her waist and the other behind her head, His expression softened a bit as he looked at her. By the Arcana he loved her! No matter how much his body screamed for her, his heart craved her even more. Looking at him in that moment, there was no doubt at all that he would never do anything to hurt her. He looked almost innocent with a hopeful expression, holding his breath as he waited for her reply.

“Yes,” she gasped, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him close.

Asra’s breath caught. His heart felt so full, he almost couldn’t think straight.

“I love you,” he whispered into her ear before planting gentle kisses down her jawline and rubbing his hard cock against her opening. He purposefully avoided penetrating her. He wanted to make sure she was ready for him and so he rubbed himself against her clit, enjoying the feeling of her wet arousal. He was certain he could cum like this, although that was not his intention. He was already close just from watching the apprentice orgasm, seeing how aroused she was, and how much she clearly wanted him.

“Asra,” she gasped, the need dripping from her voice, “please… please…” 

As she spoke, she reached up and put her hands on her lover’s ass, squeezing and pushing, trying to guide his hips so that he would enter her.

Asra breathed her name as he obliged, adjusting his angle so that he pressed against her opening with his next stroke. Asra was careful not to take her at once. He looked closely at her for signs of pain but she was too wet and aroused for this to hurt and she bit her lip, nearly crying out in frustration. Only feeling his tip at her entrance was a terrible tease and without waiting for him to finish, she adjusted herself underneath him and pushed herself forward, taking him all the way inside of her.

Asra cried out at the sudden feeling of pleasure, which was so overwhelming he almost spilled before they’d even begun. The apprentice sighed, feeling a blessed relief that her body had sought since she had first begun to notice Asra that evening. Now all she needed was more and her body knew what to do. Even from underneath him, she was able to move back and forth as she pleasured herself on Asra’s cock.

For his part, Asra was so shocked, it took him a moment to register what was going on. He was trying to stop himself, assuming it was him who was causing this sweet sensation as their bodies moved together but he soon realized that she was the one doing this while he held himself still, trying to spare her when all she wanted from him was more. The realization was almost more than he could take. How could someone be so sweet, so kind, so precious, and so terribly dirty all at once? What a delightfully wicked apprentice he had and Asra only hoped that with time, he would get to see more and more of this side of her. A wicked grin tugged at his lips once more as he began to move with her, meeting her thrusts with ones of his own and increasing their pace. He wanted to reward her lewd behavior, hoping that it would encourage her to always show him exactly what she wanted and to use him as she liked.

As their bodies moved, Asra used one arm to hold himself up, while the other moved between them so that he could tease her clit. The apprentice was already close so this was all it took to be her undoing. She had started to sweat some time ago, but now it was becoming more obvious. Asra could feel her body growing even tighter around him and the movement of her hips became more erratic.

Asra grinned, speeding up the pace of his hips and rubbing her just a touch more quickly. He looked at her, wanting to memorize every detail of how lewd she looked in this moment. Her eyes were glazed and her face flushed. Her breath came in gasps and Asra held his breath, waiting to watch the exact moment when her orgasm would overtake her. He didn’t have to wait long as she cried out and her face contorted in pleasure. It was at that moment, that Asra lost his control and found that he too could not hold back. His hips moved even faster as he bent his head forward and moaned loudly. He used his last ounce of strength to look up at her, making sure that her aroused expression was the last thing he saw before he came.

Asra’s vision went dark but he managed to hold himself up so that he didn’t collapse on top of her. It took him a while to catch his breath as his body continued to shake inside of her.

Finally, he rolled over onto his side, pulling his apprentice with him. Asra reached up to caress her face, moving some strands of wet hair away as he did so before gently kissing her forehead. The apprentice smiled at him as she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his chest. Outside, the music from the festival continued to play but they were too exhausted to notice or care. Now the festive music was nothing more than a sweet lullaby, singing them both off to a sound and peaceful sleep.

[ficstogo]

Who I Am Hates Who I’ve Been

Pairing: Mad Hatter x Reader

Word Count: 2,671

Summary: Jervis knows that he is not sane in everyones eyes. Hell, he knows he’s not sane and he regrets the things that he has done all because of Wonderland, all because of a non-existent Alice. But now that he is getting treatment in Arkham, he feels that he is ready to take on reality but he refuses for you to visit him at all.

Warnings: None

A/N: For those who are lacking some jervis love. *throw up sounds* the ending’s junk but i guess that’s what happens when trash writes it.

It’s funny how you’ve known a person for so long and never even realize that he was cracking on the inside ever so slowy until one day he just bursts without warning. I mean that’s what happened with Jervis, a prime example of such a thing. Maybe there are others out there who are going through what he is, maybe not wonderland but in any case, just done with reality. I’ve known Jervis since grade school and I’m possibly the only good friend he has, sad, I know, but none of that should be on him to blame. He was just an eccentric child that no one understanded, didn’t even bother to understand, which turned him to the misunderstood. Yes, Jervis wouldn’t be considered the most handsome, what with his over bite that (in anyone else’s opinion) he was cursed with, his short stature, and his love of Wonderland. I guess people get tired of not knowing what he’s talking about, or know what he’s talking about and are sick of the refrences. I just hope that when people see the news about Jervis or the Mad Hatter, that they take the time to realize that he wasn’t born crazy, he wasn’t born wanting to cause harm, but that it was the sane ones who had pushed him to his breaking point. So if you think about it, the sane people are crazy and Jervis is just a victim. If anyone were to know my thought process they would think of three things:

1.) I, myself am crazy, which is why I am friends with Jervis.

2.) I’m only finding ways to get the blame off him in order to protect him.

And

3.) I’m probably just looking for attention which I don’t know how or why, though this is the most popular choice with whatever I do.

I’m dealing on how to live life without Jervis, since he’s in Arkham. Unfortunately I too have not many friends because of Jervis. I hate the way that sounds but it’s somewhat true. Even if I did have other friends, I’d still be in this depressing state that I am. Jervis is locked up for about two more months. He was sentenced to stay for five years, three more due to not fulfilling his previous sentence, but because of good behavior, cooperation with the GCPD, and the fact that they’re thinking he’s coming back to being sane, he only had to serve three years. We write letters to each other instead of me visiting him, how he said that he didn’t want me to see him there, to remember how he was…

Dear Y/N,

Hopefully you’re having a frabjuos day and hopefully, you reading this letter won’t bring you down. I’m fine if you’re wondering. Lucky for me my other friends are in here too, Edward and Jonathan.

Edward, or The Riddler as you might know him, is a bit of a whiner.(:D) He’s always going on about him being sane and how everyone else are “low level, dimwitted, hairless monkeys” I sometimes confuse him for Dormouse and Jonathan for March Hare.

Jonathan is a bit…distant and cruel sometimes, but I believe it’s Scarecrow who’s doing that. He likes to read! But not much of Lewis Carroll…

They said that they’re planning to escape like the last time I was here but I noticed something. Wonderland is not real. And that I’m probably sick. I’ve hurt people and because of that I’m stuck here for god knows how long (I didn’t really pay attenion at my sentencing hearing, probably awhile). If I continue my ways, then there is a chance that my freedom will be eaten by a jaberwocky, so I decided to actually finish my sentence in order to come back home and hopefully, if you don’t feel as if you need to stay away from me, you can help me to recovery.

I don’t want to be stuck here forever and never be able to see you, my beautiful friend. If you’re suffering from my absence (which I think there is no point to feel anything for me) then I wish to heal you when I return.

With love and regret,

Jervis

P.S. Do not try to visit me in Arkham. That is my only wish that I want you to fullfill. It might be hard but we’ll get through this.

And so I did. We kept exchanging letters in which I keep reading in between the lines his feelings for me that do not exist. I continued on working and being alone but I always refer to his letters to have any company. His last letter sent me on a high, saying that he’s leaving earlier then he should. A smile on my face never left and all I could think of was Jervis.

Now here I am, waiting outside of the Arkham gates for him to leave. Nervous yet excited. My hands deep in my coat pockets layered in sweat. In the distance I see two men walking, one shorter than the other. When they arrive at the open gates, the other man in a security uniform turns and leaves. Jervis wearing a light blue sweater vest on top of a white dress shirt with a small red bowtie. His dark blue trousers are accompanied with his dirty brown shoes. I smile at the fact that he’s right in front of me. I walk steadily towards him then jog until I’m in his arms. “I’ve missed you. It’s been too long.” I said.

“It has Y/N.” He said softly, arms right around me.

I pulled away from him and looked into his light, friendly, blue eyes. “Well, what do you want to do as your first day as a free man?”

“Right now, I just want to walk. I need the air.”

“Alright, anywhere in particular?”

“No, we’ll go wherever are feet take us.” Jervis then smiled at me which caused my heart to warm. I smiled back and draped my arm around his, taking steps away from the asylum.

As we walked in the chilly November air, some people stared at us while others pay no mind. We then felt hunger strike within ourselves and stopped by a cart that served hotdogs near the park. We took a seat at a nearby bench and watched others walk their dogs, play catch with their children, and other activities. It was strange to feel this happy in Gotham.

I swung my feet back and forth since they can’t reach the ground and broke the silence by asking Jervis a question “Why didn’t you want me to visit you in Arkham?” I looked at my hotdog as I took a bite.

Jervis turned and looked at me with a look of un-expectancy. He swallowed the bit that was in his mouth and waited a few moments until he responded “Well, like I said in my letters, I didn’t want you to see me as another mentally unstable person in their. I didn’t want you to see me in my lowest point, and I especially didn’t want to see the disappointment in your eyes.” It went quiet as he looked down, his blonde hair covering his pale face. There was no emotion on my face when he shyly looked at me. All I thought was how bad I felt for him.

“Did you also not want me to come because of how dangerous it is in their?”

Jervis chuckled at this, his large teeth showing and said “Most definitely as to why I didn’t want you to come. Far too dangerous for me to let you visit, didn’t want you to get hurt.” The sun setted ever so slowly, it’s rays hitting us.

“I found out my problem. Everytime reality has pounded me into the ground, it makes me think how much I long to leave this place, and that’s when I lose my marbles. I do terrible things and hurt so many people…” he sighs placing his head in his palms. “like that Alice girl and her…fiance.” Jervis then looks at me with such a sad look “I really am sorry for all the things I’ve done and the terrible things I put people through.” Jervis then rubs his eyes with his hands. “Oh, how I hate myself for it.”

“Well you’re out and your better.You aren’t the same person when you woke up this morning and you’ve changed several times throughout your stay in Arkham so their seems to be no use into dwelling on such things.” Jervis then looked at me, tears at the rim in his eyes, he went silent for a moment causing me to think I had said something wrong and then a sudden look of realization struck his face.

“My goodness, you’re right Y/N! There is no use in moping and feeling like crum!” His hands then went to my shoulders staring at me with a broad open smile. Jervis then gave me a tight hug and stayed like this for awhile, digging his head into my hair.

“Come, you must be starving, it’s late and we haven’t had dinner or tea!” Jervis stood and pulled me up from the bench, holding my hand on our way out of the park. I hid my smile at this from Jervis.

.~.~.~.

After dinner we walked around Gotham in the dark with it’s city lights gleaming. Even though it was far too dangerous to do this, we wanted to celebrate and either way I felt safe with Jervis since low level petty criminals shouldn’t mess with a use-to-be rouges gallery criminal. We came back to my apartment, my feet tired of the continuous yet beneficial walk. “Well that was frabjuos day we’ve had, haven’t we?” Jervis said as I locked the door. Is he still suppose to be saying things from that book?

“It has.” I turned to look at him. “Let me go get you a pillow and blanket for you.”

With a charming smile he replied “Of course.” He sat down at my ruggid looking couch.

When I returned I gave him the items and helped him to set up the couch to make it more comfortable. “I found an old pair of pajamas in my closet from when you last stayed over.” I lied. I used his pajamas for comfort wearing them sometimes.

“Thank you.” As soon as we finished with setting up for bed I bid Jervis a goodnight.

“I’m going to go to bed now, I have work in the morning. Here’s the remote to the television.” I drew closer to Jervis and looked down at him with a small smile on my face. “I hope you do know how much I missed you and how glad I am to see you back.” My fingers then got entangled in his surprisingly smooth hair. I leaned down to kiss him on the cheek. “Goodnight Jervis.”

I left to my bedroom and fell on my bed. I drifted to sleep from this tiring yet joyful day.

.~.~.~.~.

I stirred from my slumber when I felt something…stroking me. My eyes fluttered open, feeling dazy. I then caught notice of a shadow right near me. Startled I sat up and backed away from it. “Sshhh, calm down my sweet, it’s just me.” With the minimal light from my window, I could make make out who It is.

“J-Jervis? What are you doing? Its,” I turned to look at the glowing green numbers at my nightstand, “3 in the morning. Were you not able to sleep.” What was on his head made me curious.

“Oh you could say that, my dear.” Jervis said reaching for my hand and holding it.

“What’s that on your head Jervis?” I asked calmly.

“Nothing of importance dear Y/N, just sleep.” And that’s when everything went hazy. I felt light headed and my eyes felt droopy. My head hit the pillow as I fell back to sleep.

.~.~.~.

It smelled. And it was freezing. My vison was all black and I felt something rough around my wrists. I moved my body around to feel what else was restrained.

“Oh! She’s awake!” Footsteps could be heard coming towards me. “Go on, take off the blind fold!” Jervis said in an eager tone. When I was able to see there was a man walking away from me wearing a bunny mask that was unpleasant. “Leave now, I wish not to see you no more.” The burly looking man left the small ramshackled rotting room.

Across from me was Jervis with the biggest smile on his face and his hands clasped together in joy.

“I’m so glad you could attend this wonderful tea party Y/N! I’ve been longing for you to join me.” Jervis walked toward my end of the table that was cluttered with teapots and tea cups, cakes, cookies, and other things that looked as if they weren’t safe to eat. Jervis’s hand went my cheek staring at me with content and…obsession.

“J-Jervis, w-what’s going on?”

“Now Now Y/N, you know better, it’s Mad Hatter and there is no need for you to be frighten.”

“I’m not frighten, just…confused.” I looked him in the eye to make him believe me.

Jervis gave a wide smile removing his hand from my cheek and spreading them in the air. “Why, you’re just in time for tea! I prepared everything just for you!”

“F-for me?!” I replied startled at this.

“Yes!” Jervis then walked around the table gliding his hand on the surface. “You see, when I got out of that horrid place, I thought I was ‘cured’ by my little obsession but then when I saw little old you it clicked, and then when you spoke!” Jervis gasped. “Oh! When you spoke it was a dream come true! I then knew that I have found my Alice!” He rushed towards me on his knees and grabbed my hands. “You’ve been very sneaky dear, hiding from me for so long, I almost thought you didn’t exist!”

“I-I’m your Alice?” my shaky voice let out. His hand went up to my face ghosting his touch. I leaned in trying to feel his gloved hands.

“Of course. I honestly didn’t know why it took me this long to figure it out.” His eyes showed love and compassion. “My spirit would have died if I didn’t found you sooner. Oh dear! Where are my manners? Leaving you all tangled up like this while having a conversation.” The smallest pout went to his face as he stood and put his hands on his hips. Jervis untied my restraints. I stood up as well and looked at him. Without him even noticing I gave him a hug wrapping my arms around him in a tight squeeze.

“Now I know for sure you are my Alice. You haven’t ran away.” His hands were at my waist looking at me with those clear blue eyes.

“Why would I run away? We are having tea remember.” I said with a smile on my face. We let go of each other but held hands.

“Of course, let’s get to it shall we?” Jervis grew a giant smile his over bite showing more than usual. Holding on to his hand, I stopped Jervis from going any further.

“Jervis, just…wait.” Jervis turned to me with a look of concern, probably afraid of me changing my mind on all this. Coming nearer to him, I looked him in the eyes and said with a small smile “Just never change.” Nervously I gave him a small peck on the corner of his lip. Heat rose to his face with blush on both cheeks since he’s never been kissed before. Wide confused eyes looked at nothing but then fell on me. Quickly, without me noticing, he stole a kiss onto my lips and smiled down at me, his arm wrapped around my waist while my hand on his chest.

“Of course my dear. Anything for you.”

[awokenprince-a]

Chapter 2: Night Owls

The path to their destination is an easy one but the journey itself will prove difficult time and time again. Constantly on the look out for Fallen or any other dangers that may lurk nearby, it made him a bit on edge with someone who could barely fend for herself. He learned quickly that the The Hive was another constant fear that was on the back of his mind, but Rory seemed to be most terrified by them. He made note to no longer bring up their horrible stench of foul rot or abysmal treatment of live rituals as the mere mention of their name drained all the color from her face and made her quiet again for some time.

He wondered what she had personally experienced first hand but decided the horror stories were for another time. As they walked he did notice the quickened pace in her steps to be much closer to him after mentioning their fondness of anyone who would be an easy picking and w as alone. A mischievous smirk graced his features as Rory kept up with him. Now he would not have to constantly stop and wait for her to catch up. Next time he offers someone to their destination, he will just take them on his ship instead. Less of a headache.

Dusk began to creep behind them and after hours of silence. Her voice is soft against the silence. "Why are you in this area, by the way?"

He could tell her of the distant war held on the edge of the galaxy and wanting to have a mental break from it. Perhaps how countless other wars were starting to edge itself closer to this quiet part of the blue planet and he wanted to scout it out before it would become another nuclear site. He could also mention how his sister, Mara, wanted any new information on their ancestral home but wanted to keep it bound together in the few shared secrets they had.

"I'm an explorer."

He answered with a half truth. The other half will be kept tucked away. He learned that from his sister. He would ask for a more in depth question of why she wanted to risk her own life for an ocean view, but it did not interest him that much to learn why. The soft imagery of calm waves and crisp air filling his nostrils with a long forgotten nostalgia was a momentary comfort in the humidity of the woods as they drew closer to the edge of the continent. Now he just wanted to see the ocean itself and maybe even spend some time peacefully alone on his side of the shore- oh. She is speaking. 

"- but I doubt that's a reason to call myself that. I just go for myself, not for others." Usually he would be able to answer in a way where it made it seem like he was listening but he kept his broken answers to himself. "But you still haven't answered my question, Uldren."

The way she said his name was more of a statement rather than to  bring his attention for him specifically. He stopped abruptly and he felt a soft bump behind him as he looked down at the short woman. "What was your question again?" I was-"

"Not listening.” She caught on quickly. “It's fine. I tend to talk to much." she waved her hand with a faint smile but a bit of sadness in her eyes. "Let's just keep going." She stepped around him and walked ahead this time while he simply stood back and half watched where she stepped. He is in good company. He should relish in this moment for once. To give himself a  chance to be more  himself. She doesn't argue, expect him to do things, or have this whole regal facade to keep up. She is just a girl he met in the mountains and will soon be the girl he left behind at the shore. If they ever meet again it would be on purpose. Uldren let his shoulders relax and a breath of air that he felt as if he was holding in for far too long escape his mouth. They walked in distant silence for hours until their feet ached. Rory suggested to rest for the night but Uldren disagreed.

"No. Can't you hear the ocean from here? The smell of the salt? Stopping now would be pointless."

The moment the word 'no' slipped from his tongue she was already stepping away into the open to greet the sands. At least she was able to muster the little strength she had left to finish their little adventure. As they made their way to the soft sands she already kicked her shoes off and threw them somewhere unimportant while she struggled to run through the deep sand. He chuckled at her clumsy running but found the upbeat nature of her excitement almost a little too contagious. Keeping his shoes on he did make his way over to the harder surface and eye their current location for camp.

Uldren had to nearly pry the woman out of the water before the high tide would come in and soak her to the brim. A bit of laughter on her end and an eye roll of the century from him, Rory was quick to clear her throat and tone it down again. He caught himself mentally scolding himself for ruining her bit of fun. Rory began helping him gather supplies and find a nice location out of the waves reach they set up a fire. The dark of the night rushed in by the time their respective sleeping areas were settled and a gentle, cool breeze came with it. Rory huddled a bit too close to the fire but even the blanket she had around her did not help the chilly wind. Uldren still walked a bit around the camp and picked up any dried twigs used to keep it going for a bit longer before he would set out to find something bigger for the rest of the night.

"How are you not freezing?" Rory asked through chattering teeth and complained when he stepped in between her and the warmth of the flame. "I'm used to the cold." His answers were kept short as usual and the unimpressed expression on Rory did not go unnoticed. Nor did her shivering in the slightest breeze.

"You get cold easily. There is barely a breeze and the night is perfect." He stood over to her side and looked down at her as he poked fun at her low tolerance for the cold. "I hate being cold... I grew up on hot climate and this is just too cold for me! I'll be fine of this breeze would just stop for a second..." Rory wrapped the blanket over her head huddled a bit closer to herself to try her best to warm up. A sigh lined with a bit of humor left the prince as he sat down by her, blocking the way where the breeze would subtly blow on by. Without word she simply made herself comfortable against the man’s side and huddled against him as much as she could. Uldren did not flinch away from the sudden touch, knowing better than to make a big deal out of it. She is cold and needed to warm up. Nothing else.

The contact is... Welcomed.

◃◃◃ ╰ 🗡 ╮ ▹ ▹ ▹

[toria-lilith]

smoke and roses - a douglas booth!nikki sixx fan fiction (chapter six)

A/N: Took me a little while to get chapter six up, but here it is! I hope it was worth the wait! If you’re enjoying Smoke and Roses, why not try chapter one of my new Tommy Lee fan fiction, Gateway Drug?

Trigger warnings: Drinking, general Motley debauchery as always. Towards the end of the chapter, Holly encounters a would-be attacker in the bar. Wordcount: 1517 Masterlist: Chapter one | Chapter two | Chapter three | Chapter four | Chapter five

"Dinner's ready!"

At her call, all four boys rushed into the kitchen like excited children. Holland wondered when the last time they'd had a decent, home-cooked meal was. Especially Vince, Tommy and Nikki, who didn't have girlfriends who's houses they could escape to when the Motley apartment became too much. They collected their plates and then sat in the front room, Vince in the armchair, Mick and Nikki on the sofa, and Tommy and Holland sitting cross legged on the floor.

"This is amazing, Holly," Tommy told her through a mouthful of chilli, and the rest of the boys mumbled in agreement, "Where'd you learn to cook like this?"

Holland smiled warmly, secretly thrilled they liked her cooking. "My older brother Peter is a chef," she said, "he's a worse influence than you guys, but he makes a mean chilli."

"We're not a bad influence!" Vince protested, but he had a knowing twinkle in his eye.

"Bullshit," Holland laughed and sipped from her glass of wine. She had no idea when she'd started drinking with her dinner, but then again, she was eating her dinner with Motley Crue. She finished her food in relative silence, feeling content listening to the boys chat excitedly about the show.

"I think we should introduce some pyro," Tommy said giddily, "how fucking cool would that be dude? Like a stage show in the clubs."

"There's like... a hundred health and safety risks there," Holland giggled.

"Well, yeah, that's the fun of it!"

While she and Tommy talked, she was utterly oblivious to the jealous glare Nikki had fixed on the drummer, and after his dinner, he returned to their bedroom in silence to get ready. "Is Nikki okay?" She asked when he'd gone. Mick only shrugged as he carried the plates to the kitchen, and Tommy followed, but Vince thrived on drama.

"Poor guy looked like he wanted to murder Tommy," he grinned.

"What?" Holland looked at Vince, puzzled, "why on Earth would he want to do that?"

"Holly, you're so blind," he laughed at her.

Holland smiled nervously. "Are you suggesting Nikki's jealous?"

"I can only say what I see," he shrugged, "and what I see is Nikki giving you serious bedroom eyes."

Holland considered brushing off the comment, but thought better of it and made her way to the bedroom. She knocked, and Nikki grunted from inside, so she went in. He was sat cross legged on the floor in front of the mirror, smudging eyeliner across his cheeks, but seemed frustrated. "Can I help?" She offered.

He nodded mutely. She sat beside him, gently turning his head so he was facing her. She took the stick of black eyeliner from him and carefully drew his trademark black rectangles on his cheeks, using her thumb to correct his mistakes. "Can I ask you something?" He blurted. She raised an eyebrow.

"Of course," she nodded, "anything."

"Do you have a crush on Tommy?"

Holland cursed Vince for being right. "No, of course not." She reassured him, "he's like a kid, and besides... I never had a thing for drummers." That seemed to satisfy Nikki and he allowed her to tease his hair for him. "There," she smiled, "all done! You look like a real rockstar."

Nikki smiled warmly at her. It was a smile she hadn't seen on him before, but she liked it. "Thanks, Holly."

"No problem," she smiled, "now get out so I can get changed."

He grinned and obediently left the room while she changed into a pair of tight leather pants, (which Tommy had insisted she wear to 'look the part'), and a Motley Crue T Shirt. She applied some dark red lipstick and black eyeliner, gave herself a once over, and decided she would do.

Nikki was waiting for her in the corridor. "You look great," he told her, looking her up and down.

"Thank you, Nikki," she smiled sweetly. He slid his arm around her waist and led her into the front room where the other boys were waiting. She expected him to move his arm away, but he didn't, and she didn't pull away. Something felt right about being pressed to Nikki's side.

At night, the Sunset Strip was abuzz with activity, and the band attracted a lot of attention just walking to the Whiskey A Go-Go. Kids from all walks of life flooded the street, and all of them were there for one reason; Motley fucking Crue. There were plenty of eyes on Holland too, any girl with the band was envied, especially a girl on the arm of Nikki Sixx.

They arrived at the Whiskey A Go-Go and went in through the back entrance to avoid being mobbed with fans. They settled in the dressing room, where Nikki and Mick absently tuned their respective instruments, Tommy drummed on the table, and Vince redid his hair about five times. "Holly, sit down. You look more nervous than we do," Vince told her.

Holland shrugged. She hadn't even realised she'd been pacing. "Technically, this is my first day on the job." She reminded him, "look, you guys are gonna kill it out there like I know you always do, but... please just make my first shift bearable and please stay out of trouble as much as you can."

"You have our word," Mick said before the others could protest. "Right?" He looked expectantly at the rest of the band, who muttered a quick 'right', clearly not thrilled at not being able to get up to their usual high-jinks, for now at least. Holland sighed in relief, feeling a little calmer than she had moments ago.

"Thank you." She said earnestly.

There came a knock on the door. "Motley Crue, this is your five minute call."

"Thank you, Five," Tommy called back. "Holly, will you be in the crowd?"

"I wouldn't dream of being anywhere else," she promised him. "Good luck!"

She watched the boys head towards the stage and then made her own way to the crowd, where she fought her way to the front. Motley Crue performed with energy like she had never seen before. Tommy had been right; they utterly blew her away. Vince's singing was enchanting, and it was though he'd put a spell on the crowd, (particularly the ladies). Nikki's bass was heavy and Holland felt it in her heart. Tommy's drumming kept up the energy, never letting for a moment. And Mick's guitar was just magical. She'd never heard anyone play like he played.

After the show, they disappeared backstage and Holland waited for them by the bar, nursing a diet coke. After the previous night's events, she thought it was wise to hold off on the alcohol for a little while, (or at least until the after party). As she waited, she sensed someone come up behind her, and then there was a hand on her ass. She turned, expecting to see Nikki, or even one of the other boys, but it was a man she didn't know. His breath stank of alcohol.

"What's a pretty young thing like you doing all by yourself in a place like this?" He slurred.

"I-I'm not by myself," Holland said and tried to move away but he grabbed her wrist and pulled her flush against his chest. "Please, leave me alone."

"Don't be like that baby," he said, an air of aggression in his voice.

"I mean it, leave me alone." She tried to be firm and pull away from him but he only tightened his grip around her wrist, so tight there would most certainly be bruises there the next day. She looked around urgently, but no one seemed to have noticed her predicament, and even if they had, they didn't look like they were going to make any attempts to help her. She was starting to panic. He abandoned his drink on the bar and started to pull her towards the exit, but she struggled violently, trying to throw him off. "Get the fuck off me!" She cried.

"Don't be a difficult bitch," he snarled in her face, but suddenly his arm was gone from her wrist, and he was on the ground. Atop him was Nikki, delivering blow after blow to his face.

"You don't ever put your fucking hands on her ever again!" Nikki screamed.

"Nikki!" Holland cried. He reared up to punch the guy again but she caught his fist and pulled him away. He whirled around to face her and he looked ready to fight her as well, but then he realised who he was looking at. When he saw the fear in her eyes, all his anger drained away. "That's enough."

He placed a gentle hand under her chin, gently tilting her head up to check her for injuries. "Are you alright?"

She nodded. "Just... just a little shaken."

"Come on," he said softly, "let's get you home."

[kizakuza-blog1]

DKs Van Life Take 1: The test

Last year, two weeks before Drew, my partner, and I were ready to set off on our first official overseas trip together, I was admitted to hospital for a week and then told I couldn’t fly.

That feeling of being trapped set in about a month later, when my condition was being managed and I realised I had been told I couldn’t do the one thing I live for – exploring the world.

So what does one do when they are grounded from flying? Camper Van it!! Drew was in love with the idea instantly and we started planning. Wondering whether  buy a van straight up or should we hire first? We decided to do a test trip before we buy and here we are.

The Test. 10 Days going South of Sydney heading to the Great Ocean Road and back through the Barossa Valley. 3,548kms will be travelled in total.

Our hot tips for a van life. Season vanlifers, I’m sure already know these, though for any newbies out there we highly recommend making note:

1.       Baby wipe baths. When you have no idea where you’ll be setting up camp or where the next shower is, baby wipe baths is one way to stay fresh.

2.       Head torches. Even when you have light in the van, it’s never quite enough. When you’re parked in a remote area or if you want to go for some night exploring. These babies are your best friends.

3.       Bucket Toilet. Now when this was first suggested to me I was like, umm really!! But ladies I assure you, in the middle of the night when you’ve parked your van in the most beautiful spot you can find, but there are no facilities, the bucket toilet is your saviour. Whether you make your own or do what we did and invest in one from your local camping store. I promise you’ll be most grateful you did.

Day 1: Heading to our first stay. We chose Tumut, a cute little place with a free camp site, nestled between the mountains and a trout filled river. It was a little in-land as day two takes us to the Milawa Cheese Company before heading down to the Mornington Peninsular. 

Here we are, head touches on, setting up the van for the first time. It’s about 8pm, the roof is popped and I start transferring our things up in the top storage section in preparation to make up the bed. Drew starts prepping to cook up a storm on our little Webber......Then it hit me..….we forgot the doona/quilt/duvet!! Basically we had sheets and a blanket to keep us warm on our first night….Snuggle time!!

For anyone vanning down the east coast of OZ looking for a free camp site. No facilities, however plenty of wood to make a little camp fire, simply put ‘The Tumut Wetlands’ into your GPS. It’ll take you approx. 4hrs 25 mins South of Sydney.

Day 2: After a chilli night, we wake up to a crisp morning and the sounds of the running river. We pack up and head into town for a coffee and to buy a doona. Next stop The Milawa Cheese Company, approx. 3hrs away. We highly recommend stopping in and tasting their cheese. They do sampling between 9am and 4pm and I promise, you won’t be disappointed. Our Favourite, the King River Gold.

From there we start our hardcore drive to Barwon Heads to meet up for a few drinks with. Just over 6hrs drive away.

We had planned to get an unpowered site at the caravan park situated right on the water, but we arrived to late, they were already closed. Good news though, there is a long car park that runs behind it, better view and another score for a free place to set up. As an added bonus it’s a 2 minute stroll to the local pub.

If you’re heading down that way the street name is Ewing Blyth Drive, Barwon Heads.

Day 3: Bells Beach Australia!! Even if you’re not a surfer, everyone has seen the movie and knows about the Classic Bells Beach and the 50 year storm – even though the movie wasn’t filmed at the real Bells Beach, it’s still a destination to visit. Just a short 8 minute drive out of Torquay’s town center. 

This beautiful beach hosts the Rip Curl Pro surf comp every Easter bringing professional surfers from all over the world. Unfortunately, it’s not a Van friendly town, so you need to be strategic when selecting where you set up for the night. There are many breath-taking places, you’ll be right.

Day 4: We consider this our real first day on our little trip, as neither of us have been past this point. We decided to have no real plan, to just take each moment as it comes. For me who is a massive planner, this was the first time ever I was just going with it. And I am loving every minute.

Drew is a massive coffee drinker, can’t start his day without one and recommends popping into the Great Ocean Road Chocolaterie & Ice Creamery before heading on to your next destination. 

Heading down the Great Ocean Road we were both craving a hot shower. Baby wipe baths are great and all, however as we all know, nothing beats a nice hot shower. If you’re driving through Lorne Victoria. Lorne Sea Baths. $10.50 entry, if you have some extra time you can have fun in their pool, relax in the spa and steam room. Although if you’re like us and just in need of a hot shower, this is the place to stop.

Although Lorne provided a great spot to stop for a shower, we decided to move on to Apollo Bay.

The road to Apollo Bay is striking. Winding up and down on the side of the high cliffs, before making your way down to the humble little town on the other side. 

Another town that isn’t camper van friendly, however we were lucky to get a hot tip from a local that told us about a little spot, right next to the beach, where we could set up for the night. And we’re going to share the secret... As you’re driving into the town, with Lorne behind you, take the first left into a little tree covered car park, just before the Big4 Caravan park up on the right.

We love Apollo Bay, it reminds us of the North Shore in Hawaii with stunning mountains on one side and the ocean on the other, the perfect balance of earth and water living side by side.

Day 5: There are many sites to see around Apollo Bay. If you’re into Hiking and seeing the ancient trees and waterfalls, make sure you give yourself time to explore. We took a little 30 minute forest walk through Maits Rest, getting a shameless tourist picture in the famous tree belly, before heading off down the Great Ocean Road to see the remaining 12 Apostles.

It’s wondrous how some eroded rocks being shaped by the battering sea, can attract so many people to see them. As we turn into the first look out, at Castle Cove, we are marvelled, just as the others before us. Mesmerised, watching the sea crash into the bottom of the rocks we start to understand why these awe-inspiring natural structures draw such big crowds every day.

Stopping at every look out to take photos we finished the day at the little community town Port Campbell. We are delighted to hear they had a bush style camping ground for both powered and unpowered sites. Full outside kitchen and hot showers. Unpowered sites are only $10pp. Powered sites $20pp with all proceeds going towards the community. You can also hire fire barrels for $20 deposit and $25 for a bag of wood. Just punch in Port Campbell Recreation Reserve into your GPS. It’s close to town so if you want to eat out, it’s just a 5 minute, easy walk in. After you’ve showered and picked your camp spot for the night. 

Don’t forget your head torches. Although the sky is filled with stars, it’s a dark walk back.

Day 6: As we make our way to the Coonawarra down the remaining Great Ocean Road, we are breath-taken by the structures on the other side of the 12 Apostles. It’s strange no one talks as much about this side of the Great Ocean Road, we think this spectacular coastline, with more sea battered structures are equally, if not better than the reaming 12 Apostles. We highly recommend stopping at every look out to take a peak and many photos. All except the Grotto, you won’t miss anything if you skip that one.

Another place you can skip is ‘Cheese World’. Don’t get excited. It is the smallest world of cheese we’ve ever come across, and really not worth the stop, unless you’re busting for the bathroom.

We pull into the Coonawarra, the town is actually called Penola, punch this into your GPS, not the Coonawarra wine region. We arrived a few minutes before the information center closed and was please to be told there is another bush style camping ground just up the road. This one was nestled amongst the vineyards. It has tepee style tents and one of those igloo ones. $10pp for unpowered sites. $25pp for powered/glamping sites.

Day 7: To the Barossa, after doing a little wine tasting along the Coonawarra strip. More Drew tasting, but a tiny sip was had by myself and with great delight I discovered my new favorite winery. Penley Estate. They have the most exquisite glasses, which are available for purchase. We bought four. Best impulse stop ever.

We decided to stay at the Murray Bridge, before the Barossa. We had set off later than expected and we were in no rush.

Day 8: The Barossa is about 3 hours from the Coonawarra and there’s not too much along the way. So crank that stereo and sing your way through it.

The town was full of people. There was some festival on, it was crazy. We find a side street to park in and walk through the streets towards the sounds of an auction. They were auctioning weird stuff, like a sacks of potatoes at the bargain price of $50. Anyway!! We made our way to find were we had booked a delightful degustation dinner at Appellation. I was so excited, this would be our first degustation. Drew’s more into the hardy meaty meals so the moment he suggested finding a great place for dinner, I was onto it.

Little did I know, he had a plan. I can’t believe I had no idea.

We found where we were going to set up for the night, close the restaurant. We discovered one of my favorite mid week wines ‘The running with the Bulls’, was made by Yalumba so we headed out to their vineyard to see if we could snap a good cellar door price. Unfortunately, no, the price was pretty much the same as I can get at home. Lets go to lunch and find a hot shower.   We found a hot shower and got ready for our amazing dinner. 

The Restaurant had a bar which overlooked the thousands of grape vines scattered amongst the small hills below.   As we sipped out first drink, Drew noticed they had a life size chess set. He loves a competition and we had some time to kill before our reservation. As the sun started to set Drew says he needs his sunnies and went out to the car. I stood there sipping beautiful wine out of a gorgeous Ridel stemless glass, freezing my ass off. Drew comes make, makes a move and then goes in to get more drinks. By this time I was wondering why he wasn’t concentrating on the game and trying to win. 

He urged me to abandon the game and come for a walk in the vines to watch the sun set. And the next thing I know Drew pulls a ring box from his pocket and is down on one knee.   I said yes.   

Wearing my sparkly new ring I couldn’t stop staring at it as we were seated for dinner. The waitress picked up on it and congratulated us with a glass of Champagne. We choose the 4 course degustation menu and were delighted to know that you don’t have to have all four sections. This was perfect for us as we don’t eat dessert. So we worked out how we could try most of the menu in the four courses.   The flavour combinations and presentation was spectacular and the absolute perfect place to celebrate our engagement.   

Day 9: The trek back home begins. There’s not a lot to see today. There’s a whole lot of nothing over the dry plains except for sheep, the odd emu and kangaroo. After 7 hrs of solid driving, we decided to stay at another bush style camp ground at Hay. $10pp, nice hot showers and our last dinner in the van.   

Day 10: It’s time to hand Johnno back. Up bright and early to detail him then back to Sydney we go. We had stopped into Robertson to have dinner with Drew’s mom and celebrate our engagement with his sister and cute little niece and nephew. What an amazing journey. The test score was in…..we will be buying a van.    

Thanks for coming on the ride with us on our first van life adventure. Follow our other travel adventures @kizakuza on Instagram.

[thorne93]

Curious Conundrum (Part 3)

Prompt: You’re John Watson’s sister. One day you decide to visit your brother for lunch, only to meet the infamous Mr. Holmes…

Word Count: 2430

Warnings: language, flirtation, sexual innuendos (maybe? idfk), murder/crime/case related stuff, angst…

Notes: Beta’d by @carryonmyswansong Not only did she beta, but I literally couldn’t have written half these scenes without her help. She contributed majorly, even wrote some parts of scenes. I am forever in her debt.

Also, this starts AFTER Season 2, episode 1. I don’t follow all the episodes, but it does follow the timeline and hit some major events : )

Part 1 | Part 2 | 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One night you had an exceptionally difficult case and you decided you needed a second pair of eyes - a first for you. An excuse to go see the greatest detective in the world, you decided to take it, and you took your case files to their apartment to work. As far as you knew, neither of them were on a case of their own, so you didn’t think they’d mind and it would occupy Sherlock's mind - something he always desperately needed.

Arriving, you found John was out running errands. Which left you and Sherlock alone to go over the case. He practically ripped the documents from your hands.

“Are you hungry?” you asked, carrying grocery bags to the kitchen. “I think you only have a pair of eyes and a hand in your fridge, right?”

“No, the eyes served their purpose. It’s only a left hand and a scalp now,” Sherlock corrected from the other room as he pinned up documents and photographs.

You laughed. “Well I’m making some dinner, you want some?”

“Uh...sure, I suppose,” he said hesitantly. You smiled at his tone. You worked on cooking while he focused on the case. The two of you took a break to eat, but you were forced to eat in the living room because he had all of his experimental gear all over the table.

Just then, John entered the flat.

“Oh, hello,” he greeted, his eyes going between you two. “How is your case?” he asked you.

You shrugged. “I can’t make heads or tales of it. I’m giving up for now.”

“Giving up? The man is on trial tomorrow for a life sentence,” John stressed. “You realize you’re his only hope at getting away, right? Does that matter to you?”

“No,” you answered simply. This caught Sherlock’s attention. He had stopped moving his pencil, but was pretending to continue thinking of notes to write down, but his falsehood hadn’t escaped your eye.  

“No? You’re okay with the fact that if you don’t figure out this case and prove his innocence, his life will effectively end?” he demanded as he towered over you, disbelief in his voice.

“You say that as if it’s a surprise to you,” you noted.

“It is! I thought we were raised to care for people. You know, worry if someone’s life is in our hands.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, doctor,” you moaned. “A life will never be in my hands, that’s your area of expertise. It’s not up to me to worry about him. It’s up to me to solve the case.”

“And solving the case helps your conscience, does it?” he demanded.

“Conscience? No. I could care less about that. What does it matter if I care about my defendant or not? Will it help save him?”

“Possibly.”

“No, it won’t. So before you give me a ethics lecture, John, remember that whether or not I give a damn about my defendant, it won’t save his life. Solving the case will.”

“Jesus, she’s just like you,” John noted with irritation as he turned toward Sherlock. Sherlock made no comment though, he simply looked at his flatmate before John stormed into the kitchen.

“Keen observation,” Sherlock quietly noted.

You frowned for a moment before inquiring, “What��s that?”

“The defendant. You’re right. Solving the case will save him, not caring for him. Typically when I tell people that, they regard me as inhuman.”

“Emotions will only cloud my judgement, thinking, and rationalization,” you informed with a shrug.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” he noted.

A moment passed before you started laughing and said, “Yes you could’ve.”

He laughed with you and said, “Yes, I could have.” His laugh and smile were more than contagious and you slightly surprised yourself by wanting to drink him and the sound in.

---------------------------

It’d become a habit of yours to be around John and Sherlock. More often than not, you were taking your casework to their apartment rather than yours. You liked the company, and they liked the extra set of eyes when it came to their cases. Most of the time you made them dinner, giving Mrs. Hudson a bit of a break.

It hadn’t gone unnoticed by you that Sherlock seemed impressed by your ability to deduce things such as him. You were nowhere near the level of expert deduction that he was, but you could tell when the defendants or witnesses were lying and that was half the battle. The other half was figuring out just how they were lying - did they do it? Were they an accessory? Most of it was picked up through watching them and listening to them.

John was out one evening, on a date no doubt, and you were at their apartment, bored, waiting for them to return. Something caught your eye near the back corner of the room, so you got up and went over. Inspecting it, you saw that it was a violin. You knew John didn’t play...so this had to be Sherlock’s. Funny, John never mentioned him a violinist.

With a nostalgic smile, you placed the instrument on your shoulder and picked up the bow, hoping it had enough rosin on it. You placed the bow on the strings, placed your finger over the notes, and drew the bow downwards, then upwards, getting lost in a melody you used to play long ago. You continued to play until the song ended and you were looking out the window onto the street below, a content sigh escaping you.

“I didn’t know you played,” Sherlock mused from behind you in the doorway of the kitchen.

You spun, a little embarrassed he’d heard you. You assumed he was out on the town as well.

“I..uh...used to,” you informed. “Sorry to have used your violin. I just...couldn’t resist. It’d been so long since I played and I miss it so much.” You held the delicate wooden object in your hand, admiring it, and thinking of its owner.

“No need to apologize,” he noted quietly as he walked across the room. “Do you mind?” he asked as he outstretched his hand in his silk robe. Out of everything he ever wore, his dark purple dress shirt, black pants, and long coat were by far your favorite. But something about him traipsing around in his pajamas and silk robe was both tantalizing and adorable. That he could be so comfortable as to do that around you made you feel...special somehow.

“Not at all,” you said, handing him his instrument.

“I find playing helps me think,” he noted.

“I find it just the opposite - an escape from the clamor in my head,” you commented as you sat down on the couch.

A tiny smirk touched his face as he turned to look out the window and began playing. It was absolutely beautiful, but it didn’t sound familiar.

“That was wonderful. Who was that?” you inquired, leaning forward.

“Me,” he said, no trace of humility in his low voice.

“You’re not exactly humble, are you?” you commented.

“Why should I be?”

A laugh escaped you as you stared at him. He really was a unique piece of work.

“Because you’ve been wrong before,” you offered. “How can you remain so confident if you’ve had moments you’ve been wrong?”

“Do you win all of your cases?”

“Most.”

“Then why don’t you quit, clearly you aren’t cut out for it,” he snapped, his eyes going to you, his point lingering in his eyes.

Your eyes cast down to the floor. “Sherlock, I didn’t mean anything by it. You’re a wonderful detective, you save lives and help put away awful people. I simply meant some humility might work in your favor once in a while.”

“The occasion hasn’t shown itself yet,” he remarked as he continued to write on composition paper.

You sighed as you looked around the room. “Well, I thought John might be back sooner,” you confessed. “Want to go grab dinner?” you proposed.

Sherlock made a strange face but then he finally looked up at you and said, “Yes, I would.”

The two of you left the apartment in the chilly air of the evening and made your way to a restaurant Sherlock highly recommended. According to him, the meal was free of charge, compliments of the restaurant.

Once the two of you got settle in, you realized there was something you’d been meaning to tell him since you’d met.

“I want to thank you,” you started and his eyes drifted from the large dining area to focus on you.

“For what? I told you the meal is free,” he said, almost as if he were irritated you’d forgot. Most people would probably get frustrated with his quirks like that, but it made you laugh.

You shook your head and waved your hand, quietly laughing. “You didn’t let me finish. I meant thank you for taking in John.”

He nodded slightly before frowning and narrowing his gaze on you. “Ah, yes, and why exactly does that merit a thank you?”

You shrugged. “He was so...lost and depressed before. So alone. Living with you and working with you gives him purpose. Not to mention getting him to stop pretending he had a limp.”

“You knew about the psychosomatic limp?”

“Of course. I knew where he got hit and how. None of his injuries warranted anything permanent, not to mention he never remembered a chair. That man could stand for hours without so much as a moan of discomfort. Now you tell me, what person with a limp leg does that?” you asked before sipping your water.

“If you knew, why didn’t you convince him?”

“Another thing to thank you for, you seem to be the only one who can get him to do something he should be doing,” you confessed.

“Speaking of something you should be doing. John told me he had no close family in the area he could stay with, hence the reason he moved in with me. Why did he lie?”

“He didn’t lie,” you softly corrected. “I didn’t live in London until recently. I was working in Scotland for a long time. I only moved back to London a few months after you two moved in together. The place I rented is small and wouldn’t fit John.”

“No, maybe not now, but if the two of you split the difference, went halves like he and I, you could, so tell me, why not share a flat together?”

You weren’t sure how to answer his question at first, wondering if you were a guilty party to play in John’s depression.

“John and I grew up together, lived in the same house for years. He’s gone to war, I’ve gone to the courtroom.”

“You’re saying you’re too different.”

“I’m saying John deserves his space...he deserves you, he deserves someone who can get him out of his funk and trying to listen to his little sister isn’t something John is willing to do.”

“I see…” he mused.

The rest of the evening went on with you two discussing classical and modern music, a few books here and there, and people watching. It absolutely fascinated you how good Sherlock was with completely telling someone's life story from how they held their fork, to their watch, to the way their foot tapped. You were good, pretty good, but not that good.

Sherlock liked having someone entertain his genius. Typically people hated him for it, but not you. You embraced it, you encouraged it, and he felt...happy about this, prompting many laughs to erupt between you two as you discussed the strangers’ lives.

The two of you left the restaurant, walking all the way back home, forgoing the cab. The quiet was rather nice, and you could tell Sherlock wanted to think. It was late when you two came into the flat, the clamor of the door opening and closing and you two making your way in, waking John.

Your brother flicked on the living room light, eyeing you two with anger. “Do you know what bloody time it is?”

You grabbed your phone. “1:13.”

“I didn’t mean it literally, Y/N,” he stated with frustration. “Where were you two?”

“Out to dinner,” Sherlock explained easily and you shot a look at him, smiling at his backside as he went over to the bookcase.

John was about to lay in to you two before you asked, “How was the date?”

John’s face softened slightly and he went into loads of detail. By the time he was finished, it was a little over half past 1.

“Oh, shoot, I should be going. It’s so late and I have a lot of work to do tomorrow. Thanks for dinner, Sherlock,” you said sweetly as you were about to leave.

“Wait!” Sherlock called. “It’s too late for you to be traveling the streets. You should just stay here.”

“Sherlock’s right. I don’t want you out on the streets this time of night. Too many weirdos.”

“John, we were just out on the street,” you reminded, gesturing between you and Sherlock.

“Precisely my point,” he teased with a wink and you shook your head and laughed.

“Well what do you suppose I do?”

“You can have my room,” Sherlock said. “I suspect I’ll be up all night anyway, discussing and researching that theory we talked about. In any case, I can take the couch if need be.”

“Oh that’s really not necessary, Sherlock. I don’t want to deprive you of your own bed.”

“Nonsense. I won’t be using it, and you need to sleep,” he said with a quick wide smile.

You mulled it over, looking to John who simply gave you a stern look. “Alright, I suppose I can stay.”

“Excellent. Let me show you to your room,” Sherlock stated as he shut a book and took off into the kitchen, then down the hall, where you followed him. He opened the door to a cozy room and you grinned, it was exactly what you expected of him. “So the bed is all made, sheets are clean. If you need more blankets, they’re in the trunk here,” he stated, pointing to the trunk at the foot of his bed. “And if you need me…” he informed, his sentence trailing as he eyed you up and down. “Uh, if you need me, I’ll be out in the living room.”

You smiled sweetly at him and thanked him again for the bed.

“Anything for your comfort,” he softly said before wishing you a goodnight and leaving.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Forever Tag:

@cocosierra94

@essie1876

@magpiegirl80

@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked

@iamwarrenspeace

@marvel-imagines-yes-please

@superwholocked527

@missinstantgratification

@thejemersoninferno

@rda1989

@munlis

@thefridgeismybestie

@bubblyanarocks3

@igiveupicantthinkofausername

@kaliforniacoastalteens

@feelmyroarrrr​

@kaeling

@friendlyneighbourhoodweirdo

@damalseer

@heyitscam99

@yknott81

@sorryimacrapwriter

@glitterquadricorn

@xxqueenofisolationxx

@little-dis-kaalista-pythonissama

@bittersweetunicorm

CC tag: @disneyoncerlover815