#in large part because I spent so much time yawning & crying when we worked on it

[elephantbitterhead]

Do you need to give a holiday gift to someone you hate? If so, may I suggest this demoralizing & annoying puzzle?

[bloodpenned]

Your Kylar kidnapping stuff is fucking busting. Can we get kinda a continuation of the other characters (or love interests) finally seeing the PC again? You can pick whoever I just have a mighty yearning. And maybe, just maybe PC coming to see Kylar after they're locked up? Choices is yours please keep up the great work!

continuation of this post! im writing about the LIs i mentioned in the original post.

As soon as you return to the orphanage, your fellow orphans look at you with surprise, some happier than others. There were few that expected your return after you’d be gone for so long. But Robin never gave up on you. At least one of the orphans runs off to go looking for them, and soon, they’re barreling down the stairs from their room, nearly breaking their neck in the process. You both fall to the floor after they tackle you in a hug.

They’re definitely crying in front of everyone, but they couldn’t care less. Robin doesn’t ask where you went or what happened, you two can talk about it later and only if you want to, all they can talk about now is how happy they are to see you again. They kept your room clean and made copies of their notes and saved some money and, and- It takes a bit before they let you go. They’re nervous, wanting nothing more than having you come over to their room and hang out like usual. If they aren’t around you, maybe you’ll dissapear again. But you won’t hear them say this. Guilt eats away at them for even having such thoughts, they’re far too selfish. You should do whatever you want to feel better right now. They can’t sleep that night. Waking up tomorrow and realising it was just a dream would be their worst nightmare. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Whitney is stomping over as soon as they see you. You’re getting shoved against the nearest wall, pulled into a kiss that’s more teeth than lips and draws blood. Their hands grope your body, greedy, trying to feel all of you within seconds. They’re scowling when they pull away. One hand is on the wall next to your head, the other bruising your shoulder with its grip. Where the hell have you been? You think they’ll just let you drop off the face of the earth?! (They definitely weren’t almost worried, they definitely weren’t almost missing you. They definitely call you their favourite for no reason.)

But they don’t raise their fist, don’t make a single move, only staring you down after spitting out the words. Once you tell them that Kylar took you, they let out a disbelieving laugh, eyes lingering on the rope marks on your wrist. So the little fucker finally went and snapped, huh? They’re lucky they got locked up before Whitney could get their hands on them. The second time they kiss you is a lot softer. Their tongue laps the blood from your mouth. Don’t think you’re off the hook yet, though. You’ve got lost time to make up for, slut. 

At the Temple, Sydney drops everything they’re doing. Clothes scatter everywhere as they rush up to you, but they ignore any glares from monks or nuns. Where have you been?! They’ve been worried sick! Do you know how much time they spent with Robin looking for you? Before you have the chance the respond, they’re looking you over, fussing over every little mark on your skin. Did you lose weight? You have, haven’t you? You two are going to get something to eat. Right now. Every part of them is shaking. The whole way, they refuse to let go of your hand. They try to hide their tears, believing they should stay strong for you right now. (They don’t look too great themselves either, stifling far more yawns than usual. If you ask them how much they’ve been working, they’ll dodge the question. It’s a great distraction.)

Knowing that the one who hurt you is locked away now grants them some peace of mind. They’re still surprised it was Kylar. Sydney had always been under the impression you two were simply good friends and that they had held no ill will towards you. Even then, in the weeks after, they’ll ask for your help with tasks they would usually do on their own. Have you stay at the library after school, walk you to the temple. They also ask Sirris to see whether you’re acting weird in class or not. 

When you go to visit Kylar in prison, they’re bawling their eyes out. There are bags under their eyes, their hair is somehow messier than usual and a large bruise has blossomed on their cheek. They missed you so, so much. But you visited! Well, of course you did, why wouldn’t you? Even their laugh, in between sobs, shakes. You’re married! You love each other!! It only makes sense you want to see how your spouse is doing! Because of the incident, you’re only allowed to see them with glass between you two, and they press their palm up against it. (Return the gesture, and they’ll start crying even harder. But they’re smiling wider too.) They’re wearing a ring, rubbing the metal as they stare at you. 

Kylar’s so emotional the whole time that holding a conversation is almost impossible. They do tell you how disappointed they are they can’t get any pencils or paper. Without them, they can’t put drawings of you all over their cell… And they warn you, more begging than anything else, to be careful. They’re not there to protect you now. When your time together is up, Kylar has to be yanked from their chair. Even then, they’re struggling the whole way. As long as possible, they’ll hold your gaze. Visit them again, won’t you? ...Please.

[dragonpro809]

Promt: character A is a borrower who got some tech/phone and talks to character B. B is the human they live with. A becomes friends with the human of the house by talking online. A loves their friends but can’t ever let themselves be caught or seen by B. Till they get hurt and have to ask B for help.

You can choose the characters :3

Ma! I love this prompt!!! I might have to send you one of mine now because I love your work! ^-^ When I was planning this out, funny thing, I was listening to "The Secret World of Arrietty" soundtrack. That movie kinda sparked my interest in g/t stuff, so it felt nice to write this! I hope this was just what you wanted!

Warnings: mentions of death, blood, mentions of fatal vore, cuss words. Don't like, I suggest you don't read ^-^

-------------------------------------------

Online Friends, Real Life Rescues

Sapnap was sitting at his desk, playing a game and laughing as his friend made a joke. Sapnap was a borrower, a tiny human living in the walls of a giant's house. However, it wasn't any giant's house. The giant he was living with was a friend of his...Well, more of an online friend than in person.

There's a code all borrowers followed, and Sapnap was one of the mere hundreds of borrowers who knew this code: Never, ever talk to or be seen by a giant. He didn't know what was so wrong with being seen by a human, but eventually, he learned hands-on what happens to borrowers when they interact with humans.

About a month ago, Sapnap was hanging out with some borrowers about two houses next to him. The borrowers he hung out with were always playing dangerous and being risky any chance they could. As much as Sapnap loved to be a bit reckless too, he would also be concerned about the number of times his friends were almost seen by the giants. And one day, what he feared finally happened.

3 weeks ago, Sapnap was invited over to his friend's his for a game of sorts. Sapnap didn't know what the game was gonna be about, but he was more than happy to join his friends. When he got to the house, he searched for his friend, but to his surprise, he couldn't find them. Maybe the game was hide and seek? Sapnap highly doubted it, and there was no way he could search the entire house in one night.

As Sapnap walked past one of the holes that overlooked the kitchen, he frooze. He went back to the hole and saw one of the humans sitting at the table, and in their hands were his friends. He at first was curious. Maybe the human wasn't gonna harm them? But he was instantly proven wrong as the giant shoved his friends into their mouth, swallowing them quickly without remorse. Sapnap choked out a horrified gasp and stumbled backward. He couldn't believe what he just saw!

Sapnap wasted no time and ran home, being quick to tell his parents of what he just witnessed. He finally understood why giants were dangerous...They could easily kill borrowers whenever they pleased. He couldn't control it, or prevent it, he was absolutely helpless.

The next few weeks, Sapnap spent most of his time building up a computer for himself using an old phone he found, as well as some wires hidden in the walls. He also studied the giant he was living with. From what he could tell, they very much disliked showing their face. They also seemed to be a big gamer, and this sparked curiosity inside the borrower.

Sapnap slowly began to trust the human, seeing as they one, hadn't noticed him yet. And two, were nice to the people beyond the screen.

Sapnap had finally built up his computer and began to discover the online world, the more he searched, the more he was fascinated. Soon, he had found the channel. The channel owned by the human he was living with. They went by the name Dream...Sapnap liked that name. It made a smile come to his face whenever he said the giant's name, and he didn't know why. He reached out to the human online and asked to Minecraft challenge with him, and to his surprise, the giant happily excepted his offer.

And here he was, playing with an online friend that was a giant and who was extremely nice to him. Maybe he was wrong about all giants being monsters. Maybe there were some gentle giants in the bunch.

"Hey, Sapnap, you there?" Dream's voice echoed in Sapnap's ears, snapping his focus back to the game and call he was currently in. He must've been spacing out again...

"Y-yeah! Sorry man, I was just thinking about something and I guessed I spaced out." Sapnap chuckled, causing Dream to wheeze like a tea kettle over a burner.

For the next few hours, the two played their game. Shouting, laughing, and cheering as they played. Eventually, nighttime fell upon the boys and Sapnap had grown tired.

"Hey man, I'm extremely tired. Should we can it a night?" Sapnap asked, soon hearing Dream chuckle.

"Yeah, I'm tired too, let's call it a night."

The two said their goodnights and closed out of the call for the night. The borrower leaned into his chair, a smile planted on his face as he stretched his arms out and yawned.

Sapnap pulled himself out of his chair and made his way to his room, which he had set up right near his friend's bedroom. He looked through the small hole he made that overlooked the Blonde's room and noticed Dream chuckling as he sat on his bed.

Sapnap shared his own chuckles as Dream began to wheeze like a tea kettle again. He turned and climbed into bed, still smiling as he laid his head down and closed his eyes.

The next morning came, and Sapnap awoke to the sound of Dream talking and tapping from a keyboard.

He lifted himself up from his bed and yawned before turning his focus to the hole. He stumbled out of bed and saw his good friend, Dream, was up and already active on his games.

Sapnap walked away from the hole, slipped on his backpack, and decided to go grab some food from the kitchen. He was starving after all, and with Dream busy, he wouldn't be seen.

Upon passing through the hole that lead into the kitchen, he took a moment to look around the huge, intimidating room that stood before him. He had only done this twice, yet each time he was nervous and shaking right down to the bone.

As the borrower began to look for some food, his body froze when he heard a low, loud growl from behind him.

To terrified to turn around, he instead sprinted back to the hole in which he entered from, but his pathway of escape was cut off with a large paw slamming down right in front of him. Sapnap skidded to a halt and slipped backwards, his back hitting the hard, tile counter.

He opened his eyes to be met with a large cat staring down at him, almost as if it was sizing him up to be eaten. Sapnap screamed for his life, quickly getting up to his feet and running behind some glass cups. The cat was quick to chase him, and in the process, it knocked one of the glasses off the counter while trying to grab the borrower.

Dream lifted his head hearing a glass shatter in the kitchen. He was confused, what knocked it over? Dream took his headphones off and left his bedroom.

Upon entering the kitchen, he was met with a shattered glass on the floor and his cat, Patches, trying to grab something.

"Patches! No! Bad cat! What are you doing?!" Dream snapped, causing the cat to quickly bail from its little hunt and book it out of the kitchen. Dream groaned, clearly annoyed at the mess the cat made. Before he could start picking up the shards, he heard sobbing...Quiet sobbing from behind the glasses his cat was just in front of...

Dream grew curious and slowly approached the glasses. As he slowly moved them away, his eyes widen at the sight he was seeing.

There, huddled close to the wall, sobbing uncontrollably...Was a borrower. Dream gasped seeing them. He had heard about borrowers, or tiny humans that live in the homes of people, but never had he imagined he'd actually see on before!

Sapnap had been scratched by the cat, and it was badddd. A large cut trailed up his leg starting near his foot. He began to cry, because boy did it fucking hurt. He didn't want to move, he was too afraid to as the cat tried to grab him. Suddenly, a loud voice echoed in the kitchen, and the cat scrambled away in a hurry. He kept his eyes shut however, for he was to afraid as to what was going on.

Soon, the sound of glass being moved away made Sapnap huddle close to the wall, his eyes glued shut, not daring to open them.

Dream reached his hand toward the borrower before pausing. They were hurt. Dammit, Patches had gotten them already.

"Hey." Dream said softly, the borrower flinched a little at the sudden voice.

"Hey, it's ok, I'm here to help." Dream spoke, his words soft as silk.

The borrower slowly opened their eyes and look toward Dream before gasping and backing up. They didn't get very far, as they instantly yelped in pain and fell.

"Woah! E-Easy there, I just want to help." Dream explain, trying to hold back asking questions.

Sapnap had fliched at the sudden loud voice above him, and he couldn't help but slowly open his eyes. He instantly regret it as he looked up, only to be met with a giant staring down at him. He yelped out of fear and panic while trying to pull himself away, but it was proven futile as he cried out in pain and fell down, his leg throbbing in pain.

"Please don't kill me!" Sapnap begged, keeping his hands in front of his face. When nothing happened, he pulled his hands away and looked to the giant, who had a look of worry and concern all over them.

"K-Kill you? I would never!" Dream spat out before composing himself.

"I just want to help you is all."

Sapnap didn't know if he wanted to trust this giant. A part of him was screaming to run away, just run and stay safe...But the other half of him was telling him something different. This was his friend, someone who had been so nice and caring to him in the online world...Now was his friend's chance to prove he was that same way in the real world.

"You promise you won't hurt me?" Sapnap asked, receiving a nod from the giant as an answer.

Dream gently scooped the borrower up into his hands and made his way back to his room. Though...He found it funny. This borrower almost sounded like his online friend.

End of Part 1

(hehehehe, I'm evil)

[bookstantrash]

A/N: Next week uni exams start and I won’t be able to write for a while, so I did my best to finish this chapter on time before I go MIA for some time.

You can check here Pemberley’s Lake, Hooked on You and Smells like petrichor and paper, part one, two and three of my Nessian Pride and Prejudice AU.

The sound of music

Cassian could not sleep. His mind kept coming back to the greenhouse.

To Nesta and her lavender and vanilla scent and how lovely she looked amidst the flowers.

He would not lie to himself and say he did not let his lips linger a little bit longer than necessary on her temple.

Or that he had not felt some resemblance of male pride on seeing her wearing his jacket.

That he had not imagined her wearing it after they had come back home from a ball or one of Gywn’s operas.

That he had not imagined Nesta tucked close to his side, his arms around her and a smile on his face as he heard her talk about her day.

His imagination, it seemed, was his worst enemy.

“You are delusional Cassian” he mumbled to himself “Delusional”

Sighing, he touched the pressed daisy chain again. He had taken it out of his drawer and left it in front of him as he worked on some papers regarding his properties, thinking the numbers, reports of complaints or requests would help tire him out enough to make sleep come.

Cassian had no such luck. He worked until the entire pile had been properly looked through, and even three glasses of his strongest brandy could not make his thoughts of Nesta go away.

Nesta, who was currently sleeping in one of Pemberley’s guest rooms after much freeting from Mrs.Potts and her friends about catching a cold. Cassian had made sure to have her room properly warmed and a glass of hot chocolate delivered to her first thing after they arrived from the greenhouse.

Her friends had been delighted to spend the night, and he had almost asked them to forego the inn completely and just stay at Pemberley for the rest of the month. But he did not want to mess their schedule and ruin their trip. He knew that Gwyn was on a short vacation, as were Emerie and Balthazar, and Nesta could not stay away from her younger sister, Elain, for too long, given that they had no male relative to look after their household and wellbeing in the meantime.

Maybe a trip to the kitchens would help him. A midnight snack was bound to make his sleep come soon, and he was sure he had heard one the maids saying that Chef Ramsay had baked chocolate cookies.

Safely putting the bookmark back in his drawer, Cassian only bothered to throw a robe on before quietly making his way down the hallways. He was not worried about being shirtless, given that most of the house was for certain sleeping.

Deciding to take the long way to the kitchen in hopes of tiring himself, he was surprised to pass by the library and see light coming from underneath the doors. Thinking that maybe someone had forgotten to check the place in their rounds, Cassian opened the oak doors to find the candle light. He could not risk a fire happening in the library out of all places.

He followed the faint glow until he found himself with a most surprising — but very welcome — sight.

Nesta was currently curled up on his favourite chair reading a book in nothing but a thin nightgown and he momentarily forgot to be annoyed at her for not covering herself after being caught in the rain if only because by the way she was seated he had a privileged view of her bare legs.

Cassian knew he should announce his presence, his conscience yelling at him how improper and scandalous it was to see her in such a private moment. But he let himself stare at her for another minute, commiting to mind every single detail, from the way the ribbons in her nightgown accentuated her waist — he recalled how small it had seemed when they had danced at Feyre’s ball, his hand spanning nearly halfway across — to how the white colour made her eyes look more grey than blue in the candlelight.

“Fancy seeing you here” Cassian said in greeting, clearing his throat.

Nesta nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard him, quickly scrambling to straighten herself up when she realised she was not alone.

“I am sorry, you had said I could come whenever I wanted and I—”

"Could not sleep?” he asked, and Nesta only nodded.

Oh dear Mother, she wanted to crawl into a hole on the ground and disappear. Why was it that she was always finding herself in embarrassing situations when it came to Cassian?

It was true she could not sleep, her mind replaying her evening with Cassian, from the moment she stepped on the library to when he kissed her temple in the greenhouse.

She had tossed and turned in her bed for hours, her creative mind conjuring images of a future with him.

Of long strolls in the garden and picnics by the lake.

Of hours spent reading quietly side by side in the library.

Of running her hands in his silky hair, coming up with new ways to style it.

Of Cassian’s coat around her shoulders and her head on his as they came back from a late evening of dancing or parties with their friends.

Why could she not stop thinking about him? Why had he not left her mind since they had first met each other and why did her heart skip a beat whenever he was nearby?

She looked at him, flushing all over when she noticed that he would have been completely naked from the waist up were it not for a robe, which had loosened up a bit, revealing a bit of his naked chest.

For Cauldron’ sake, did he not own a shirt?

“What are you reading?” he inquired, and she quickly averted her gaze from his chest.

Little did she know he was also trying very hard to not stare at her bare shoulders or her chest, cursing once again whoever had gifted her such nightgown.

He could bet his fortune it had been Emerie, recognizing the modice’s preference of off shoulders designs.

“Oh, it’s a romance” Nesta felt her ears getting even hotter “By Sellyn Drake. You have a rather large collection here. Some are even first editions”

“She was a dear friend of Pemberley’s previous Lady” Cassian said, motioning for her to take a seat as he told her the story “The Lord sponsored her, both because he saw how her writing brought joy to his wife and also Lady Drake’s talent.”

“She soon became extremely famous and still kept sending the previous Lord her books even after his wife passed away” Cassian smiled faintly “He sold Pemberley and moved, but I kept the library as it was, just adding my own books here. Lady Drake comes once a while to visit and get inspiration for new novels, although she says she is to retire soon.”

“Y-you know her?” Nesta’s voice had gotten an uncharacteristic high pitch “You know Sellyn Drake personally?!”

“She is a very annoying old lady” Cassian said rolling his eyes “Always asking me if I will not take a wife so she will have someone more interesting to discuss her books with whenever she visits.”

“I cannot believe you are friends with one of my favourite authors” Nesta said in disbelief.

“But I would not have pegged you for a romance reader” she added, arching an eyebrow.

“I could not very well leave those books here to gather dust, could I?” he answered, squirming on his seat.

“Tell me, did the scary General Commander of the British Armies shed a tear in any of them?” her voice had a teasing tone and Cassian was almost left speechless by that fact alone.

Nesta inclined her body in his direction, apparently having forgotten she was not wearing modest attire at all and that Cassian was desperately trying to keep his eyes on her face instead of her chest.

“I promise not to tell anyone if you did”

And then Nesta Archeron gave a little sideway smile that made Cassian lose his breath.

He did not know what he had done that made her take such liberties with him, but he for sure was not going to complain.

“I did not cry” he finally managed to answer, angling his body in her direction and smirking when he saw a faint blush adorning her cheeks “But I will not be heartless and say it did not move me a little.”

They were close once again. So close Nesta could see that his eyes had little green speckles on them and that the brown looked like molten chocolate.

They were eyes one could drown and all she wanted to do was to indeed drown on them.

“Next time Lady Drake plans on coming to Pemberley I will make sure to invite you too” Cassian said softly, straightening himself “It is quite late. I will accompany you to your room.”

As if on cue, Nesta yawned, quickly covering her mouth with her hand.

“I only have one chapter left” she tried to argue, suppressing another yawn.

“Such a headstrong lady you are” he smiled and took the candlelight “The book will still be here tomorrow.”

Nesta followed him begrudgingly, twisting her nose in annoyance even though she was yet again holding back another yawn. Cassian thought she looked like a tiny angry kitten, laughing internally.

They walked back to her room in a comfortable silence, and sooner than he would have liked they had arrived.

“Well, then, here we are. Delivered safe and sound”

“Thank you, your grace” Nesta opened the door but did not get inside, as if she too did not want to part with him.

“Have a goodnight of sleep, my lady” he said, dropping a kiss on her hand before he could dwell too long on it.

“Goodnight, your grace” she breathlessly answered, finally getting inside and leaving Cassian standing outside her door.

Needless to say, both fell asleep quickly after that.

~•~

“For Cauldron’ sake are you incapable of sending prior notice of your arrival? And it is way too early to be drinking wine Morrigan, even for you”

Cassian had arrived to have breakfast and found Rhysand’s cousin casually seated at table, twirling her glass of wine at nine in the morning.

“I came here straight from Vivian’s. It was a long journey and I needed the wine. Besides, I am family! I knew you were going to like my surprise visit” Mor blinked at him.

“Always a pleasure to see you” Cassian answered, sitting beside her and promptly dumping a large portion of bacon and eggs on his plate “I take you introduced yourself to my other guests?”

“Of course” she snorted, making Georgiana laugh “Except for Miss Carynthian and Sir Oristian, that is. It seems they went into town early to see something in relation to their business.”

As if on cue, the dining room doors were open and Balthazar and Emerie walked in.

Emerie had opted to wear trousers today — Cassian thought it was to not be belittled by some stupid mercants and show with just who they were dealing with — and a white shirt with long sleeves with a forest green vest. Her curly brown hair was down and she had a gleam in her eyes that told him her business transaction had been a success.

She really was a sight to behold but it still startled him when Mor spat out her wine.

Mor never wasted wine.

“Sorry for our late arrival, Balthazar was being a weakling” Emerie said, sitting in front of a very much flustered Morrigan.

“I was not. You are the one who never lets the other have the upper hand” Balthazar pointed out.

“Please, you know that piece of silk was not worth that much!” she spread jam in a piece of toast, waving the knife in a rather aggressive manner.

“Maybe, but if you keep that up you will gather more enemies than business partners”

“Good thing I have you as my bodyguard” she batted her eyelashes innocently, making Balthazar roll his eyes.

“You are Miss Carynthian. The Miss Carynthian?” Mor asked in awe, her coughing fit finally over.

“The one and only. I take you know my shop?” Emerie asked with a smile.

“I absolutely adore your designs!” Mor gushed, and they fell in a very excited talk about gowns and fashion trends.

“Did you have a goodnight of sleep?” Cassian whispered to Nesta, who was seated beside him.

“I did, thank you for your concern, your grace” she answered, grabbing a chocolate cookie “I hope you also had a pleasant sleep?”

“The best sleep I had in years” he winked at her, that sideway smile of hers appearing again.

“Lady Nesta, my brother has told me how brilliantly your dancing  is” Georgiana butted in, and Cassian resisted the urge to throttle her.

His younger sister was lucky there were other people present or he would do just that.

“He is too kind, my dancing is not that memorable” Nesta said, a bit embarrassed.

“But my brother never lies!” Georgiana exclaimed, receiving a glare from Cassian “He told me how the whole ballroom stopped to watch you as you danced.”

“Oh, thank you for the compliment your grace”

“It was nothing but the truth” Cassian assured her, sending daggers at Georgiana, who was sweetly seated by his other side as if she had not just told Nesta how infatuated with her he was.

“I wish I had your talent” Georgie sighed “I am really shy at balls and never really want to dance even if I am asked to. I usually throw my dancing card in the trash in fear someone will write their name there.”

“But I love to watch my brothers running from the scary mammas” she added with a devilish grin, failing in a brotherly bickering with Cassian.

Nesta felt her heart break over Georgiana’s fear of dancing. Apart from reading, dancing was one of the few things that brought Nesta joy. It made her feel alive, the music allowing her to get lost on the moment and forget the pressures high society placed upon her.

Dancing made Nesta feel empowered, in control of her own destiny.

Georgiana deserved to feel like that too.

And that is why when Emerie, Gwyn and Mor went shopping together while the gentlemen went horse riding, Nesta proposed that she teach Georgiana how to dance.

“Are you sure of it?” Georgiana asked nervously, glancing around the music room as if someone was going to appear out of nowhere and laugh at her poor performance.

“Rest assured. You will be dancing flawlessly at the end of the day” Nesta gave her a reassuring smile “I am going to take the male role, so please place your hand on my shoulder.”

Georgiana did as instructed, and soon they were dancing.

“You just need to have fun and relax” Nesta said, making Georgiana twirl “Even if you do not know the steps but act like you do nobody will blink. Dancing is not something that is supposed to be suffocating, but to free you.”

“You mean like this?” the young girl asked, and did a step completely opposite of what was expected in a waltz that made Nesta laugh and follow her.

In no time they were not dancing the waltz but just messing around, their laughs and delighted screams filling the room. They were having so much fun that they were oblivious to Cassian watching them from the door.

The gentlemen had returned to Pemberley and decided to move to the game room, their initial amiable horse riding outing transformed into a racing competition whose draw made Balthazar and Azriel — who revealed themselves to be extremely competitive — propose a rematch in a billiard game.

Cassian soon grew tired of watching them betting who would win, deciding to fetch a book to help distract himself. He was called to the music room by the sound of loud laughs, his heart threatening to burst when he saw Nesta and his sister having so much fun.

“When are we to expect a proposal, my lord?” Mrs. Potts said to him, having stopped to welcome him back when she noticed just who he was watching.

“I have no idea what you are talking about” he answered, a soft smile on his face as Nesta dipped Georgiana, making her laugh even louder.

“It is clear as day to all of us how much that lovely lady means to you” the old headmaid replied “I have never seen you happier since she arrived here.”

“I assure you, there is nothing going on between us.”

“Do not let your fears stop you from being happy” Mrs.Potts motherly said, noticing his bitter tone “You more than anyone deserve to be happy and feel loved. And I noticed how she looks at you, I do not know why you cannot see it.”

“Such busybody staff that I have” was all he said, Mrs.Potts smiling and leaving him alone to continue his watch.

But it appeared their talking had warned them of his presence.

“Brother! Were you spying on us?”

“Far from it Georgie. I thought nobody was home but your laughs made me want to investigate” he stepped inside, closing the door behind him “Balthazar and Az are so competitive they were giving me a headache”

“Nesta was teaching me how to dance” Georgiana said, a bright smile on her face.

“I saw it. She is a great teacher” Cassian said, and Nesta had to look away lest he saw how much happy his words had made her.

“I have a great idea!! Why don’t I play music in the pianoforte and you two dance? That way it would be much easier to see how to dance properly”

Nesta panicked at Georgiana’s words. Last time she had danced with Cassian it had been out of spite for his comment. She would not deny that she had found him a pleasant partner or that she had had fun dancing with him, but Nesta doubted he would want to dance with her again.

However, little did she know Cassian could not have been happier than the moment his sister suggested such a thing.

“That is a wonderful idea Georgie” he said to his sister, all the while planning to write to Rhysand concerning an increase in Georgiana’s dowry.

He had already forgiven her words earlier at breakfast.

Didn’t she say she wanted a new horse? He could arrange for one to be delivered first thing in the morning tomorrow.

Georgiana clapped her hands in excitement, leaving them standing in front of each other as she sat by the piano.

“You are not dancing!” she called out, her fingers moving expertly on the piano keys.

Cassian cleared his throat, offering his hand.

“May I have this dance?”

Nesta accepted his hand, placing her other on his shoulder.

“You may”

They fell in that pleasant and calming atmosphere as Georgiana played, Cassian leading her effortlessly, but she felt he was cautious, even a little stiff.

“I do not bite, your grace”  Nesta said, daring to tease him “You do not have to be afraid.”

“I would not mind if you did” he said back without thinking, his eyes widening as he realised he had said that out loud.

“I beg your pardon. I did not mean—” Cassian made to release her hand and step away but Nesta gripped his shoulder harder, stopping him.

“Do not tell me the great General Commander is left without a strategy when it comes to some defenceless lady” Nesta appeared to be nonchalant on the outside, but inside she was apprehensive.

What if she had gone too far? What if he did not see her as a friend? What if he was bothered by her teasing?

But to her relief he gave her that smirk of his that made her blood boil, stepping closer to her, their chests touching.

“For you, I have no strategies.”

And they really began to dance.

The music was still there. Georgiana played beautifully and on another occasion Nesta would have wanted nothing more than to just sit and listen all day to her playing.

But the music was no longer the most beautiful thing in existence.

Nesta got lost on him as they danced, the music a faraway background sound.

She got lost on his bright smile and noticed he had dimples.

She got lost on the way he moved with her, a body made for brutality which now moved with grace, keeping up with her.

She got so lost on his warm eyes — more green than brown at the moment —  that she felt herself moving even closer, her breath mingling with his.

“Cassian—” his name left her lips without her consent, and she almost froze when she noticed she had not used his title.

Cassian did not care, his smile only getting brighter.

“You may call me informally. We are friends, are we not Nesta?” he said quietly.

“Yes, we are.” she answered, her body tingling all over at the way he said her name, as if it was a prayer to the Mother.

Georgiana — having taken notice of the rather romantic mood — started a new song as soon as the other finished, neither of the pair paying her no mind.

Next morning, Cassian gave her a new horse, the fastest and most sought out in the market. No one had the barest ideia how he managed to get hold of it so fast, or why he was gifting it to Georgiana.

Neither explained the reason, just shaking on it as if it was a business transaction.

•

Tags: @sayosdreams​ @thewayshedreamed​ @sjm-things​ @perseusannabeth​ @arinbelle​ @caotica-e-quieta​ @vidalinav​ @swankii-art-teacher​ @ireallyshouldsleeprn​ @duskandstarlight​ @d0riansgray​ @thegoddessaltenia​ @dayanna-hatter​ @verypaleninja​ @awesomelena555​ @courtofjurdan​ @valkyriewarriors​ @moe8​ @illyrianwitchling13​ @silvernesta​ @bri-loves-sunflowers​ @queenestarcheron​ @imwritingthesewords​ @vasudharaghavan​ @rainbowcheetah512​ @darkshadowqueensrule​ @letstakethedawn​ @starlightorstarfire​ @city-of-fae​ @thalia-2-rose​ @nestaarcher0n​ @rowaelinismyotp​ @julemmaes​ @dontgetsalmonella​ @alinaleksanders​ @lysandra-tiara​ @inardour​ @hikari274​ @fatimafares123​ @angelina-figjam​ @castielspelvis​ @lanyjoy-13​ @firebirdofscythia​ @illyrianundercover​

{Please let me know if you’d like to be added to my Fixed Tag list}

[kim-miyeon]

ONE

Pairings: Lee Felix x Female Reader

Genre: VictorianAU!

WARNINGS: 18+, marriage, adultery, (Warnings vary on chapter.)

Word Count: 4.1K

m.list | prologue | two

London, 1963

The sound of the magazine pages  flipping slowly and the static of the small radio playing “Sally Go ‘round the Roses” was all that could be made out in the moment as the two girls laid in the bed opposite each other. 

“I’m bored Susan!” Margaret moaned and threw a pillow at Susan’s head as Susan turned and scoffed. 

“Margaret quit it! You almost ruined my Beatles magazine!” Susan grabbed the pillow and threw it back to Margaret who huffed.

Susan returned to flipping through the magazine as Margaret began to stare at the ceiling, pondering on what activities the two teenage girls should do on their Tuesday afternoon.

It was the beginning of their winter festivities. School had been out for not only a few days but Margaret and Susan were inseparable. Having been best pals since birth, the two had spent many hours laughing and crying and being incredibly mischievous as well. Which brought Margaret to her brilliant idea.

“Let’s go to your grandmother’s library.” Margaret sat up quickly as Susan turned to her friend in disbelief.

“You must have gone mad.” Susan responded, in any manner but excited at the idea. “You know we are not allowed there.”

“And why not? Because it is your grandmother’s wing of the home? She will never know this house is so incredibly large, how would anyone know?” Margaret cocked her eyebrow and Susan bit her lip. 

A more luxurious life of those in the upper class. That’s the world that Susan was born in.  Born into a family that had wealth and status, Susan had been exposed to every part of luxury. She lived in a comfortable home and it was large enough to house many people, which her mother always utilized for their large gatherings. But she knew ever since she was young that her grandmother’s library was a place that she was not allowed in alone. Her grandmother cherished her collection of books and always wanted to preserve them. But as much as Susan wanted to say no, the seventeen years of curiosity of what lied behind the doors of her grandmother’s den could not hold her back. Especially being one who cherished books and fairytales, what could be behind those doors would lead Susan into a world she always dreamt of.

“Come on Susan, your mother is out and your grandmother is taking a nap, they won’t know!” Margaret persuaded and Susan groaned.

“Fine.” Susan threw her legs over the side of the bed as Margaret shot up 

Susan and Margaret walked down the hallways of the large home, cocking their necks at every turn to be sure no no one knew of their whereabouts. The home felt so empty with each passing corridor, and the tall windows had their curtains drawn to keep the winter air away. The two girls turned the corner of the hallway to enter Susan’s grandmother’s wing of the home. Almost immediately could one see the large Kona dark wooden doors that led to a world unknown. Susan halted in her tracks and Margaret looked back as she had stepped ahead. 

“Are you okay? Do you want to head back?” Margaret asked and Susan shook her head. Both girls could feel the error in their choices to be here.

“I am just nervous, my heart is pounding in my ears.” Susan laughed unconfidently and Margaret sighed, trying to stay with the plan.

“It is a library, not a death chamber.” Margaret grabbed on to Susan’s hand and pulled her friend towards the large dark stained wooden doors. As they approached the library, Margaret outstretched her hand to the door handle and pushed her hand down to open only to find a sturdy opposing force.

“It’s locked!” Margaret groaned and Susan looked at her friend who was upset about the failed mission. But then fear ran through her veins when she heard the sound of a far too familiar snicker behind her.

“Of course it’s locked, dear…” Susan and Margaret turned around to find the owner of the voice, “I wouldn’t leave my library open when I am not present. I may be old, but I am no fool.” 

“Grandmother!” Susan exclaimed nervously to the elder woman, “I thought you were taking your afternoon nap!”

“The universe has a funny way of working, doesn’t it girls?” Susan’s grandmother spoke and walked further to the girls, holding keys in her hand.

“We weren’t meaning to be sneaky Grandmother, we were only curious.” Margaret spoke and Susan’s grandmother chuckled.

“I suppose young girls' curiosities get the best of them.” Margaret watched as Susan’s grandmother took the key to the library and inserted it into the lock. “I suppose it is time to share a bit of my world with you.”

Susan and Margaret watched as Susan’s grandmother pushed open the door, and the enchantment of how beautiful the library was struck the two girls. A scale so grand and modern. Books high up and two levels that overlooked below where a small dark wooden desk sat. Loose paper scattered across the desk with dull pencils nearby. Susan thought about the many days and almost nights her grandmother spent in her library and what on earth she must be studying.

The three ladies walked further into the library and Margaret gasped in awe.

“It’s so beautiful here.” Margaret sighed and Grandmother began to chuckle. 

“It’s my life’s work in one place, a sacred thing. Something two mischievous girls should not be around.” Grandmother smiled at the girls who smiled back. 

As the women slowly stepped further into the room, Susan’s gaze never retracted from the busy desk. Her eyes locked in on a very rubbish looking journal that sat open. Margaret and Grandmother carried on their conversation as Susan drifted off to the desk. She rounded the edges and dragged her fingertips along the dusty wood. Tilting her head to look at the journal clearly she saw a damaged old photograph of a young boy. Susan reached out to grab the small photograph and bring it closer to her eyes. He was standing not too far from the camera, it was hard to see the background but one thing that was clear was his smile. He had a beautiful almost breathtaking smile, it stole Susan’s breath for a mere minute. His hair, laying across his face, made it unable to see his eyes. But Susan could tell he was a gorgeous man. 

“Grandmother,” Susan called out and looked at the photo one last time before she turned her attention to Margaret and her Grandmother, “who is this boy?”

“Oh.” Grandmother’s voice hinted of sadness when she saw the photo, “his name is Felix. A young lad from many years ago.”

Grandmother walked closer to Susan and Susan looked down at the journal that had been opened. 

“Was he your friend?” Susan asked as she scanned over the words that were written in the journal. 

Grandmother stood next to Susan and she sighed as Susan looked back at her grandmother.

“He was not.” 

“Then why do you have a photo of this boy? Who’s journal is this?” Susan carried on in her curious mind as her Grandmother began to sigh as Margaret walked over to Susan to look at the photo of the boy.

“Inviting you into this room comes with the responsibility of telling you stories of years far before you.”

“A love story?” Margaret asked simply and Susan looked at the journal that was lying on the desk. Tracing her fingers over it.

“The journal belonged to a young maiden, who lived in this very home years ago.”

“Tell us about her.” Susan reached over her grandmother’s hand and her grandmother sat in the chair at the desk as the two other girls sat on the floor staring up at Grandmother.

London, 1898

The streaks of the sun splashed on the skin, as you laughed. Picking your feet up and trying not to tumble in the large field as you two ran. Your vision, covered in the hues of green and yellow, matching the weeds on the ground and as you look down you saw a hand in yours. Gripping you in the most odd mixture of gentle and security, wanting you to be free and yet holding you near. His hand was the softest, skin almost an illusion for there were no imperfections. At the edge of his wrists sat the ruffles of his shirt, white and stained with dirt and sweat. You trailed your glass beaded eyes up the clothes arm that is pulling you into the fields. Once you came to the collar of his neck you admired the length of his blonde locks as they rested near his shoulder, blowing softly in the air. You heard his faint deep chuckle and he turned softly to the side to take a glimpse of you. You saw his eyes connect with yours, feeling the intense spark fuel you and almost stole your breath. If this was love, you never wanted anything less.

If this.. was..

The deep rich smell of smoke ran through your nostrils as you fluttered your eyes open to the small lit candle resting on your night stand. The sharp light of the morning sun struck the room as Adelaide, your maiden, drew the curtains for you.

“Good morning Milady” Adelaide spoke cheerfully as she pulled in the window to lock. You peeped at her and smiled as you rose up and yawned.

Your day typically always began at 7:30am. Adelaide was no stranger to being on time, especially during weeks like this. 

“Good morning Adelaide. How did you rest?” You asked as Adelaide grabbed a pitcher of water and walked over to your bedside where a large bowl had been placed. Rosemary leaves had been placed at the bottom and you watched Adelaide pour the hot water over, feeling the steam hit your face and sighed in pleasure.

“I rested well, thank you. Did you sleep well with everything going on?” 

Adelaide walked behind you and went to grab the toothbrush and can of homemade soap and sat it down near the bathing rack.

“I tried at least.” You mumbled as you watched Adelaide keep moving to finish her morning duties.

“It isn’t an easy week I suppose. I will go and fetch your cup of tea this morning while I let you freshen up on your own.” Adelaide smiled at you as she made her way out your door and you went back to freshen up.

You grabbed the towel and soaked in it the water as you felt the warmth of the water relax you. Squeezing the excess water off the towel, you pulled the sleeve of your undergarment and wiped the skin.

Adelaide’s reminder of what this week meant for you was excruciating. For the past five years you had known this day would eventually come, but you had always hoped that if you had believed hard enough, it would never come. Time could pause and you could live happily.

You grabbed your hair and bent down to lay it in the water as you coated your hair in the warm liquid. You heard Adelaide’s footsteps approaching the door and you squeezed the water off your hair. 

“Your mother is awake.”

You rolled your eyes in annoyance “Lovely. How does she seem?”

“Refreshed.” Adelaide shook her head in a sad way to you. 

You turned to her quickly, “Is it too late to run away? You wouldn’t say anything, would you?”

“You know I wouldn’t.” Adelaide grabbed your hands, squeezing them.

“Where to run is the issue.” You sighed and looked at yourself in the mirror. 

“Would you run to the states?”

“It would be fun. Imagine working and making my own money. Choosing my own life. Anything would be a more rewarding life than this. To be brought up to wed and bear children? To have a mind for everyone else besides your own?” You went on as you fumbled with your fingers as Adelaide began to help you stand to dress. Slipping your garments off as she helped you step into your gown.

“It’s the idea of feeling free, to do what I want, not what others want of me.” You continued as Adelaide turned you around and pulled the strings of your corset.

“To bear a day where I dress myself” You mumbled to yourself and Adelaide puked in the strings tighter making you yelp as she laughed.

“Are you stating that you do not want me to dress you?” She smiled and you sighed as she finished.

“It is your job to do so, but you were created for more do you not think?” You turned around to face Adelaide and she shrugged a bit.

“I suppose. I enjoy my job and I have a place to sleep and eat.” She softly said and you bit your lip in agreement.

“I will head down while I give you time to awake.” She smiled and began to head for the door.

“Thank you Adelaide.” You smiled as you turned to the mirror. 

“My lady” you heard Adelaide call out one more time.

“Yes? “

“I know this is a difficult week and things may not be the way you want them to, but know that I will always be by your side, as you are for me.” 

With that Adelaide left you to be alone in the room. Her words made you sad and yet filled with content. Marriage wasn’t a plan you had set yourself up for. It wasn’t something you wanted. You craved the feeling of being loved by someone not because of status and wealth, but because they say you and all your flaws. But you held a responsibility as the eldest, as your father’s daughter, to do what is necessary for the family and for your country.

But your mind drifted back to your dream. The boy. A man so unfamiliar but you felt as if you’d known him for years. Your heart ached feeling like you had fallen for an image of a man, created by your mind. But it felt real, he felt so real to you. 

A knock at the door brought you back to reality as you cleared your throat. “Come in!”

“Milady, your mother is requesting you for breakfast.” Adelaide peeked in as you looked at her and nodded in understanding.

As the door shut you turned to the mirror and took a deep breath in.

“Be strong, Y/N.” 

The halls of the home were long and made one weary as they strolled down. Your heart panicked with the unwanted anticipation that waited beyond the doors to the dining room. You could smell the aroma of the feast that called for you, already knowing that your mother has planned a rather larger gathering than you were expecting. Closer and closer as you approached you heard the laughter of people you knew the sounds of and once you reached the door that was guarded by your family's security men, you saw the faces of those you wished to not see.

“OH! My darling! The bride to be, you look marvelous this morning! Just GLOWING!” Your mother exclaimed and wrapped her arms around you squeezing you tightly in a hug. 

“Good..morning.. mama..” you tried to choked out as you were wrapped in her tight embrace. She pulled back and tidied up your dress and hair. 

“Beautiful as ever.” She smiled and you half smiled back before you noticed your father and your future in laws chatting a bit behind.

“Father, Sir Thomas and Mrs. Thomas, what a lovely surprise. I was not aware you would be joining us this morning.” You courtesy politely to them.

“Oh dear please, call me Lois.” Mrs. Thomas outstretched her hand to you, waving to tell you to stop your courtesy. You lifted your gaze to your future in laws and then to your father who was smiling at you in a sense of pride.

“I wasn’t aware you’d be back to join us this week, sir.” You quaked our to your father who smiled.

“I couldn’t miss my daughter’s wedding. Sir Thomas and I came back for the engagement ball tonight and the ceremony this weekend.” Your father spoke as he turned to his elder and you smiled softly in understanding.

This marriage wasn’t for you. It was for them. To raise your father’s rank by providing a woman to wed the son of the Field Marshall. An eligible bachelor that many women would have died for and yet you have known him your whole life. This arrangement has been in motion your whole life. 

“Is Gregory here?” You asked in more of a trembling tone. Mrs. Thomas chuckled a bit.

“Oh she’s nervous. Yes dear, he should be back soon.”

You mentally rolled your eyes as you had a keen feeling where your loving fiancé could be. You smiled and pulled a chair from the dining room table. 

“Please sit, Lois.” You offered as Mrs. Thomas sat.

You walked over to your mother where you reached out to grab a chair and one of the servant lads grabbed it before you.

“Here, Milady.” The man said and you looked at him and smiled. 

“Thank you James.” You whispered as he smiled softly to you, his dark hair falling towards his face. Sitting down you watched as the servant lads went to through the kitchen doors to grab the meal for the morning.

You knew it wasn’t normal for the young lady in the house to know the names of all you served, but you did. You never looked at the workers as being below you, they were people who deserved respect. So you treated them as such, like a friend. Like Adelaide, who is only a ladies maid but she is your closest friend.

You heard the sound of a child laughing running to the dining room as you saw your mother exhale frustratingly. Soon the young girl ran into the dining room, hair a mess and her dress not tightened. Barely had her shoe in her foot with a stocking while the other foot was bare. You giggled to yourself as the young girl ran past your mother who tried to fetch her and you heard Adelaide’s voice from afar.

“Clarissa!” 

Clarissa halted in front of you and you smiled at her, “Good morning y/n!” 

You embraced your young sister and kissed the top of her head as she pulled back and you noticed Adelaide had entered the kitchen standing next to your mother who was fuming.

“Now Clarissa, what did I tell you about your morning routine?” You started and Clarissa sighed and looked down at her feet.

“To respect Ms. Adelaide’s request and help.” Clarissa mumbled and you smiled gracefully.

“That is correct, now run along back to your room to finish your routine so that way you can join us for breakfast.” You ruffled her hair a bit as she looked up at you in admiration, smiling before turning back to Adelaide and retreating to her room.

“AND she’s good with children, oh dear, imagine.” Ms Thomas exclaimed to her husband implying a future where you would bear her grandchildren. You smiled most uncomfortably at the thought.

“Oh Gregory is here!” Your head snapped to the left side of the room as you spotted the man who you had to wed in a weeks time. His skin was flushed but glowed at the same time as you noticed his hair was a tad bit ruffed up. He wore his military uniform and presented himself in a poised matter. He was attractive, you could not betray that your eyes enjoyed the sight of him. But his heart was not as beautiful. You knew where his intentions were and were completely aware that they had been four inches deep in another woman just now. 

“I hope I am not late,” Gregory began as he turned to you and played his act most perfectly, “how honored am I to have the most beautiful fiancé,” 

Gregory spoke as he walked towards you and you stood from your chair to greet the man as he rushed quickly. “No need to stand my love, you have all waited long enough,”  he turned his attention to a servant lad, “Boy! Bring us the food at once!” 

Gregory sat next to you as you watched him. The smell of sweat and perfume reeked off his hair and neck and it made you boil with disgust. He looked at you for a moment and smiled. His orbs shined a sinful mixture of blue and grey as his dark strands of hair laid on his head miraculously well. He was a painted god, a devil in disguise as you knew. 

“You look beautiful.” He whispered close before placing a burning kiss to your cheek and you smiled at him.

The background noise of your elders conversing and the aromas of the food being brought out caught your attention. You took hold of the glass of water that sat across you as you took a sip from it. You felt the presence of a servant lad behind you as he placed your plate in front of you. You swallowed the water as you looked up to the boy and smiled.

“Thank you Langston. Do you mind grabbing a simpler plate for Clarissa as well? Oh! And some juice instead of tea?” You requested and the servant lad smiled and nodded.

“Will do Milady.” He said as he retreated back to the kitchen. 

You looked down at the plate, loaded with eggs, beans, ham, bacon, fish, and bread. There were sweeter treats placed in the middle of the table for all to share. This was typical, this meal was typical. You knew that there were less fortunate people in the country and you were living in a world full of the rich and selfish. 

That’s why you cared for the workers here. You saw the world differently than your family. You didn’t want life to be handed to you but rather felt pride when you worked hard for the things you wanted. That’s why this marriage was something you loathed. Gregory’s status and your father’s would blossom. More money, more luxurious parties, more of everything. The price to pay was your hand. You knew it wasn’t uncommon for some women to wed a man they do not love. But you wanted to fall in love. Something Gregory could not provide you.

You came from your thoughts when you heard the sound of Clarissa’s heeled shoes running towards the room once more. She was in a much better state than before and she hurried next to you as you and a servant lad helped her into her seat.

“Thank you Harry, but I can handle it from here!” Clarissa stated as a matter of fact and you giggled looking up at Harry who laughed a bit. 

“I can’t believe you all started eating without me!” Clarissa exclaimed at you crossing her arms.

“I had to request that the kitchen make you something special! I haven’t started eating quite yet.” You leaned to her and she smiled as she rolled her eyes. Before the both of you knew it, you saw a small hand with a plate of food placed in front of Clarissa with a side of freshly squeezed orange juice. 

“Here you are milady.” 

The voice of the lad hit a nerve in you that rushed your blood cold and skin so hot.. It was a deep, husky, charming voice. Something that could scare you but in a stranger way made you feel safe. Clarissa smiled at the boy and you took the opportunity to look up at him to thank him. But your eyes were met in a sudden pause to reality. 

Hair a soft pale blonde, skin soft to the look and to be more when touched. All you could see was the side of his face as he retreated away. Much like the dream this morning. Much like the boy you saw in your mind. 

Your heart beat was pounding in your ears as you fell completely in awe as the boy retreated back into the kitchen. You didn’t know him and you knew everyone in this home. Was he real? Was that the boy? Is your mind playing tricks on you? All you knew was that your body felt on fire, but your heart was aching. Who was that boy?

“Y/N!”

Your mind snapped back to where you were again, and all eyes on the table were on you. You looked at your mother who had called your name.

“Y-Yes?” 

“Love, are you alright? You look like you have seen a ghost?” Your mother exclaimed and you inhaled deeply to yourself remembering what you just witnessed and felt and you thought to yourself.

I might have just did.

Taglist: @exonations @sunshine-lixie @beaann  @yumi-xox​

Author’s Note: Hello everyone, after a much needed hiatus I have returned with my second series! I know I am posting on a Friday but I will be posting on Thursdays as usual!  Also THANK YOU for 400+ Followers!!! I am genuinely shocked by the love I have received from all of you! I am so excited for our new journey together and I can't wait to read your responses!! With love- KMY

UPDATE: Postings will now be on Fridays due to my schedule now! Thank you❤️

[pedropascalssimp]

Thunderstorms

Boba fett x fem reader

Summary: jango (your and boba's son) seems to favor you, making boba a little jealous and also ✨sad boi✨ but after one particular night spent on Eadu jango finds himself clinging to a certain bounty hunter.

Warnings: Fluffy soft boba. Short - like really short because I suck😖

Part 3 to this

Tags: @anilynworlds

The ship was in complete silence, something that seemed to be a rarity since little jango was born into the galaxy. Every night since you both had left Endor after you recovered from giving birth, little jango seemed to find wailing at 3am up until 9am was the most thrilling thing in the galaxy. No matter what you did, feed him, change him, even walk him around the ship you called home, he wouldn't fall asleep. Not until you started letting him sleep in your and boba's bed that is. You didn't mind him sleeping with you both, neither did boba, in fact it put him more at ease knowing his son was safer snuggled under the furs and in his riduurs loving arms. But jango seemed to not like how boba would at least try and hold him, he always cried whenever his father held him. Tiny puffy eye's tightly shut as his little cheeks turned red as cries flew out of his mouth.

It was frustrating for boba how much his son clings to you, always tugging at your pant leg or reaching out for you to hold him, of course you'd drop everything your doing to hold the little man, placing little kisses on his chubby cheeks and loving the adorable giggles that emit from him when you do so. Boba knew he should be happy to see his son love you the way he does, he should be thrilled. But he couldn't help feeling a little envious, especially since he was strongly convinced his son hated him.

It was quiet as jango slept in your arms, you seated in the co-pilot seat while boba was beside you flying the ship through space. You didn't miss how his eyes would fall on you and your sleeping two year son. So you give him a small smile, "he's been doing good with talking, he can almost anything... Of course it's still a little none understandable at the moment" you giggle at how he words things, dink being drink and sleep being seepy, his two favorite words besides momma, It was adorable. You adore his little voice, always giggling at how he leaves Rs out of some things. But for a two year old he was a fast learner.

"I've noticed... He seems to call you momma now, but I have yet to hear him say daddy or even buir" boba sighs, voice gruff letting you know he's tired. He's been trying to make enough credits to give you and jango a nice life he said, taking on more bounties then usual, in fact, you was heading to the planet Eadu because some bounty boba was hunting was supposedly located there.

"he'll say it... Just give him some time" you reassure, but you can tell by the ever present grumpy look on his face he didn't believe you.

"I've been giving him time since the day he was born cyar'ika I can't even hold him without hearing him scream and cry, he hates me" boba grumbled as a scowl was etched on his face, brown eye's glued to stars that zoomed by.

You sigh and stand up, careful as to not wake jango up, his head resting on your chest as his little arms wrap around your neck. You walk over to boba and run a hand through his dark hair, his eye's falling on you. "he loves you boba, it was only natural for him to cry that much as a baby" you say and trail your hand down to cup his jaw, tilting his head more.

"that doesn't make up for how he is two years old and still refuses to let me hold him" his voice came out more gruff, a sign he was getting irritated. "he's a mommas boy my riduur, you spoil him to much" he muttered with a ghost of a smile on his face, his eye's holding the amusement his voice failed to display making his words some harsher, but you knew he wasn't angry nor frustrated.

"I'm not the one who buys him absolutely everything he points at when we walk through the markets" you tease boba, remembering how if he spots jango point at something with a excited glint in his dark eye's, he'd buy it.

Rolling his eyes, boba focuses back on flying the ship. "I don't want him to do without, I only get him something if he needs it" he grumbled causing you to roll your eye's this time, you knew that he did it because it was his way of showering the boy in love, buying him little toys after every hunt and always sneaking little desserts into his plate whenever you wasn't looking. Boba spoiled the boy without a doubt.

Deciding to not tease him anymore you place a kiss on his forehead making him hum happily as he peers up at you, "I need to lay him down before he wakes up, hopefully you'll be joining us after awhile" you said before walking out of the cockpit. As you walk through the ship, making your way into the small room you called a bedroom, you laid jango down easily so you could get ready for bed. As you take your dirty shirt off, picking up a clean one your about to put it on, but instead you throw it against the wall and scream in fright, for on the shirt was some sort of large spider looking bug.

Jango jults awake and looks around the room until his large eyes fall on you, staring at wear the shirt is with startled eyes.

"momma what's 'ong?" his little voice spoke up making you look back at him with red cheeks, embarrassed you screamed like that over a bug. But you was terrified of them.

"cyar'ika!? What's going on? What's the matter?" boba runs into the room with a hand on his blaster holstered at his hip and concern on his face.

You look up at him, standing with only your bra and pants on as you point at your short laying on the floor with a sheepish smile. "there's a spider on my shirt..." you muttered without meeting his eye's, To embarrassed.

Boba sighs with relief and walks over to the shirt, crouching down to inspect it. Jango starts asking you what's wrong again and you scoop him up as he watched boba intently. As your husband picks the shirt up and shakes it you see the bug fall out of the shirt and onto the floor, making you jump and scream, jango soon screaming but his sounded like glee rather then fright. Jango always watched closely whenever boba would always get bugs away from you and him or simply always helping you in whatever way possible, whether it be a protective way or a simple task.

Boba stomped the spider before it could crawl away anywhere and gives you a reassuring smile, "there, you're terrifying little friend is gone" he mused while handing you your shirt, you take it hesitantly while looking over it. Not really wanting to put that one on now you gently lay it down and find another one to put on, of course you hand jango to boba so you can slip the shirt on. But like boba expect jango starts reaching for you while repeating momma! This makes boba roll his eyes and bounce jango around.

"why do you hate me so much hm?" he asked with his usual scowl, making your son start crying. After you get the shirt on you quickly walk over to them and take jango from boba who seemed a little annoyed.

"he doesn't hate you" you sigh while calming jango down, his little cries turning to whimpers as you rub his back soothingly. "why do you always give buir a hard time? He always protects us from big bad bugs and always spoils you with toys... He's a nice buir isn't he?" you talk to jango with a smile, watching how he looks over at boba and then buried his face in your neck.

"get some rest cyar'ika, it won't take long before we arrive to Eadu" boba wasn't one to initiate anything affectionate, but you knew by the way he stood still, watching you with those big brown eye's that he was waiting for the kiss you always gave him before bed. You walk over to him and gently peck his lips, "I'll be in here in a few minutes" he grunts while leaving, the door closing behind him. You turn to jango who was already innocently looking up at you, eye's droopy. You kiss his little forehead and walk over to the bed.

"jango honey, can you say buir?" you ask while laying down on the bed, back pressed against the mattress while he peers up at you through his dark lashes.

"seepy momma" he yawns while wiping at his eye's, and although you are determined to get your son call boba buir... But he was sleepy, so you lay down and gently run your fingers through your sons dark hair. His head falling on your chest.

Perhaps you can try and teach him when on Eadu, when boba is on the hunt. It would surely surprise him if he came home and his son called him buir, hugging him if you was lucky. It would make boba happy, especially since jango acts like boba is nothing but a grumpy man who simply supplies him with food, clothes and toys.

It's been a few days since boba left Slave I in search of the quarry, but you expected the hunt go on for that long, boba was supposed to be him in merely a few hours. You walk around, holding jango close as he cries, loudly might you add. You was worried about your son, he always calmed down whenever you'd walk around the ship with him while telling him little stories. Your voice always soothing him, but today it seemed everything you did wasn't working. At first you didn't know what was scaring him, but as the loud claps of thunder shook the ship, you understood he was scared of the thunder. Eadu was known for being a stormy planet, always raining and lighting along with thundering. Something jango has never heard before, but for the first few days the thunderstorms was quiet, not entirely loud enough to be heard from inside the ship. But today the storm seemed bad, thunder so loud it drowns out jango's cries almost.

"c'mon jango honey it's okay... You're safe" you say by his ear as he screams, little voice starting to go hoarse from how long his crying has been going on, almost two hours. You sigh and walk into the room, sitting on the bed and placing your son in your lap as you hug him.

It wasn't much longer until the door opens with a hiss, boba walking in, in his armor. Helmet gone as he gives you a look of concern.

"what's wrong with him?" he asks while looking to you with furrowed brows.

"he's terrified of the thunder" you tell him, but as jango heard boba's voice, his head is turn in his direction while he reaches for boba.

"buir! I want you!" jango cries, shocking both you and boba. But boba is quick to pick his son up, holding him close while jango rest his head on boba's chest.

"you're okay my little adiik, you're safe with me... I won't let anything hurt you" he placed a kiss on jango's head while swaying softly. Jango sniffles as his cries subside, little hand reaching up to pat boba's cheek as he kisses his nose. The sight enough to make your heart swell while a smile tugs at your lips. Boba smiling a rare beautiful smile.

" 'ove you buir!" jango says happily while you stand up and stand beside them, loving the way boba's eyes sparkle with happiness, love swimming in the brown eye's you adore.

Gently placing a hand on his little back you giggle when he pats boba's cheek again. "I love you too you stubborn little man" boba grabs his little hand and placed a kiss on his forehead, making jango giggle.

"I told you he'd say it" you said, grinning at your husband. He nods and goes to hand you jango so he can take the armor off and wash away the days hunt off of him. As he does so jango tightly wraps his arms around boba refusing to leave him.

"oh come on now, I have to get cleaned up little one" boba tries to unwrap his arms, successfully do so and handing jango to you. But the little tremble of his lip and tears swimming in his eye's tells you both he's gonna cry. And cry he does while you hold him.

"jango honey he has to take his armor off" you coo trying to calm him down. Your attempts useless until boba gets back.

You tried bouncing him, tickling him, even making funny faces at your son. But he only sits on the bed and cries, "buir!!! I wan' buir!!" jango screams, and it's then his buir walks through the door wearing comfy pants and a shirt. Hair damp as he smugly walks over and picks jango up.

"it looks like he's done being a mommas boy and decided he wants to be his buirs little warrior" boba holds him with a smug smile making you roll your eye's but smile nonetheless, happy jango is finally calling him daddy now.

"he's always going to be a mommas boy, but for some reason he's just clinging to you tonight" you say while crawling in bed, slipping under the covers and watching your riduur with a amused smile. "but just you see, he's going to be cuddled up to me as soon as you lay him in the bed" you spoke matter of factly, almost cocky as you smirk at boba. He rolls his eyes and grumbles something under his breath, whatever it was made jango giggle, a proud smile on your husband's face.

As soon as boba crawls in bed he placed jango between you both, boba rolls over on his side to face you while you do the same. Jango pulls the covers up and turns to boba, holding on to his arm that drapes over him. Boba laughs at the gasp you let out, betrayal written all over your face.

"jango!! How dare you do this to me! Betraying you're own mother like this" you pout playfully and turn your back to them, a smile now on your face.

"ignore her son, she's only trying to make you feel guilty for finally treating me like I'm you're father and not some man who lingers around the ship" boba jokes, something that was rare but tonight seemed to be a unique night.

Jango listens to boba and ignored you, falling asleep while snuggled up to your husband. You turn around and smile at them. Noticing boba was also asleep. You giggle quietly and scoot closer, draping your arm over jango and placing your hand on boba's arm, taking in the tender moment you was having with your little family.

After that one night jango never wanted to leave boba's side, always latching onto his legs whenever he tried to walk or always asking him to hold him, it was cute, adorable even as jango soon decided to favor his father now.

___________________________________________

[maybe-itll-be-someday]

How We Raise Them

This is a birthday gift for the most wonderful human being and writer that I get to have the pleasure of being my friend? @jetaime-jespere you inspire and support me in so many ways. 10/10 would recommend being her friend. 

This story, of puppy kisses, margaritas, and tooth-rotting domestic!Hotchniss is just for you. 

Read on AO3

--

Emily always had a knack for caring and nurturing.

The house plants in their home were all bright green, a hobby she had gotten from JJ after too many nights spent fussing over Jack. Jack had seemingly grown up in the blink of an eye - far from the toddling two year old that Aaron had first brought into the office, his steps uneven and hand tightly wrapped around Aaron's finger. He was now almost 17, finally starting to grow into the long, gangly limbs he had no doubt inherited from his father. He was a great kid, but no doubt a teenager now, complete with the home-grown embarrassment for his parents' PDA and a sense of false confidence that he knew better than his parents' combined 80 years of experience.

Jack was starting to take charge of his own schedule, planning out his soccer and baseball practices and time with his girlfriend and was now rarely at home outside of eating dinner and sleeping. Sometimes, they liked to joke that their home was more of a hotel, only utilized for meals and a warm bed.

"He's grown up so fast, Aaron." Emily had lamented, curling a warm leg around his as they listened to Jack pitter around the kitchen before school. Emily had a rare day of no meetings, her new job as Section Chief agreeing well with a more attainable home life balance. Aaron had been teaching at the Academy for two years now and he didn't have his first class until 2 PM, granting the two of them a morning spent lazing in bed while Jack fended for himself before school.

He was old enough to drive now and have a girlfriend, and that fact took Aaron's breath away every time.

Aaron remembers when Jack was born, a wriggly screaming bundle of joy that entered the world with the loudest wail Aaron thought he'd ever heard. Now, he was driving, sending applications to colleges, and in a relationship with a nice girl.

He had grown up so fast.

Now, both of them had a plethora of time - time that used to be spent shuttling Jack from school, practice, and birthday parties between cases, making sure that his homework was fully done, PTA meetings (which Emily insisted on being a part of) and coordinating Jack's  schedule with precision, slotting in play dates and trips to the mall to buy new khakis because he shot up like a weed.

All the time spent taking care of Jack, now exchanged for hours searching for different plants and nurturing them until their home was an urban jungle.

So Aaron starts doing some research while Emily is asleep, hoping to bring something a little more difficult than plants to take care of.

Before their entire home had turned into a greenhouse.

--

The house was quiet, too quiet, when Emily arrived home from a day spent in meetings discussing budgets. She was exhausted and would do anything for a glass of red and a foot massage from her loving husband.

"Aaron? I'm home." She calls out, shucking her shoes and purse by the front door.

There was silence that permeated from the house, followed by a sharp yelp from what she can decipher is Jack.

"Jack? Aaron?" She calls out again, following the source of the sound only to be met by an out-of-breath Aaron.

"Hi honey." He says, his breathing heavy as he presses a kiss to her lips in greeting. She cocks an eyebrow suspiciously, glancing over his shoulder to see if Jack would pop out from their den.

"Hey. Is something the matter?"

"No, no. Nothing's the matter." Aaron says, shaking his head. He wrapped his hand around hers, a bright smile on his face and she couldn't help but feel lucky that this is where they had ended up. Married, raising Jack together in a row house in Dupont Circle. Now Jack was nearly an adult - their duties as his parents were slowly dwindling down to providing advice and making sure he made the right decisions.

On those days, when she and Aaron are left in the empty rooms of their house, devoid of Jack's sounds of make believe as he pretended to be an astronaut or a G-Man like his father, she can't help but let a small pang of regret hit her.

She didn't know how much joy she would derive from being his step-mother, and a small part of her wishes that she and Aaron had created a brood of their own.

But it wasn't part of their journey, and she was okay with that.

"I have a surprise for you. Look, I know we've never talked about it..." Aaron starts to ramble, leading her to the den at the back of the house as her confusion grows.

He stops right by the closed door, hearing the shuffling going on on the other side of the door.

"But you're an amazing mother to Jack and I know that he's leaving for college soon. I don't want our house to be quiet."

"Aaron..." She says cautiously. "What did you do?"

The den door swings open, revealing Jack with a bright smile on his face and a small bundle in his arms. The tiny ball of fluff makes a soft mewl in Jack's arms, popping its tiny head up to reveal long floppy ears and the sweetest eyes she thinks she's ever seen. Aaron smiles, dropping her hand to pick up the puppy in Jack's arms and drop it right into hers.

There's a tiny jingle and her fingers brush against cold metal, reaching down to reveal the tag that hung around the puppy's collar.

Finn Hotchner

"This is Finn."

--

It turns out, despite all the research that Aaron had done for puppy rearing, it was still much harder than they had anticipated.

Emily groans as she hears a sharp whine come from their living room, where they had set-up Finn's crate. Aaron was adamant about them crate training Finn, despite the fact that Emily and Jack would have been fine letting Finn sleep with them in their beds.

This was the third, no maybe the fourth time, that night that he had whined in his crate like he had been abandoned on the side of the road instead of sleeping next to their fireplace.

Aaron pops up a sleepy head, eyes blearily adjusting to the faint moonlight streaming from the window and glances as the neon numbers that shone on his bedside table.

5:30 AM

"Good God, does he ever sleep?" Aaron groans as Emily let out a large yawn, patting a soft hand on Aaron's shoulder to tell him to go back to sleep.

"I've got him." Emily says as Aaron sinks back under the covers, quickly drifting back to sleep as Emily rolls her eyes and throws on her robe. She pads out into the living room, her soft footsteps enough to catch Finn's attention and get his cries to stop.

"Hey sweet boy." She coos, letting him out of his crate as he pattered out, his limbs still floppy at 10 weeks as he let out a large yawn, Emily's heart melting as he curled up by her ankles. He was clearly just desperate for attention.

More specifically, desperate for her attention.

Finn had latched on to her, claiming her as his human the moment Aaron had placed him in her arms almost three weeks ago. The puppy was always quick to dart to Emily when she came home, eager to expose his belly to her for pets after a long day at work. He followed her around at home, hearing the soft tapping of his paws against their hardwood floor as she cooked dinner or made coffee in the morning. He curled up right at her feet in her office as she worked through mountains of paperwork, content on sleeping right at her feet as she filled out reports.

"Come on." She coaxes, moving from her spot by his crate to let him out into their back garden.

The sun was softly breaking in the horizon, the long summer days already evident by the soft light that streaked the sky. Finn zoomed out onto the grass, quickly tripping over the limbs he still didn't have much control over and Emily let a small smile play on her lips.

After the initial shock of the fact that they now had a dog, despite almost no previous discussion prior, Emily found herself completely enamored with the puppy. She found herself thinking of the tiny ball of fluff often, taking time out of her day to check the camera they had installed in their living room to see what he was up to when they were at work (it was mostly sleeping) and watched with a fond smile as Aaron let him out during lunch. He would crouch down, despite the hell she was sure it caused on his knees that were now worn with age and trauma, and play tug with Finn or attempt to train him in what would only cause frustration for both of them.

She had always seen the softness that lined Aaron's interactions, despite the steely demeanor that had hardened like calluses after too many tragedies. But she saw the gentle way in which he raised Jack, always insistent on talking and sharing - a far cry from the slamming doors and harsh hits that were consequences of his father's temper. She felt it in the way his hands drifted to her lower back when he felt a need for connection. She heard it in the soft tones that he'd use when talking to children, a sparkle in his eye as he interacted with them.

It had filled her heart with a new measure of love she didn't think was possible, watching him soften to Finn in a way she never expected.

Aaron yawns, stretching his limbs to ease the sleep from them when he realizes that his wife's side of the bed had gone cold. He glances up at the clock and realizes it had been almost two hours since Emily had gotten up to let Finn out. A bloom of warmth grows in his chest when he realizes where they could probably be.

He finds her on their couch, stretched across in a deep slumber as Finn dozed quietly on her chest. It was a position he had found her in often, Finn always opting to sleep anywhere where he was physically touching Emily.

Another Hotchner wrapped around her finger.

When Emily is jolted from sleep by a loud clink, the warmth of Finn is nowhere to be found. She props herself up, sounds slowly coming into focus and she can hear the sounds of Aaron's soft whispering and a familiar scratching of utens. There's the sweet aroma of coffee wafting from the kitchen, and she follows the scent to catch Aaron red-handed.

Aaron is reading the paper on the counter, not noticing Emily walk in, and slips a small piece of his bacon to Finn who is sitting patiently by his side.

When she chastises him, he just laughs and passes her the cup of coffee he prepares for her on Saturday mornings.

"This is the only way I can get him to love me, Em."

--

As it turns out, having a puppy was a little too similar to having a baby. 

Their days now revolved around Finn - their sleep schedules were disrupted by crying in the middle of the night, their daily list of tasks including someone having to be home to let him out every three hours whether it be them or a pet sitter and on top of Aaron’s classes and Emily’s workload. It had only been a month since they had gotten Finn and they were exhausted.

Emily had never had a dog and Aaron had never grown up with any animals, so both of them severely underestimated the amount of work that went into keeping a tiny ball of fluff alive and healthy. 

Aaron finds her in the living room, sprawled out on the couch with relief on her face at the silence she worked so hard to cultivate amidst the chaos.

“He finally passed out.” Emily whispers and Aaron eyes the puppy who is sleeping peacefully in his crate after being forced in for a nap. 

He produces a margarita from behind his back, salt lining the rim.

“I knew I married you for a reason.” She says happily, taking a grateful sip and moaning in delight as the sweet liquid hit her tongue and the tequila stung her throat. He clinked his own glass of whiskey to hers before taking a seat next to her, both of them needing the alcohol after weeks of sleep deprivation and tending to Finn’s every need. 

“I think we’re getting too old for this.” Emily muses, watching Finn shift in his sleep. 

“I don’t know about you, but I feel young and spry.” Aaron jokes, pressing his lips to her shoulder as she takes another sip of her margarita. His lips slowly trail from her shoulder, dancing across her collarbone before settling at the base of her neck. He feels Emily tilt her head slightly to expose more of her skin to him and a breathy moan escape from her lips. 

“So this is why you made me a margarita.” Aaron knew that certain kinds of alcohol produced different reactions from Emily. Wine always made her sleepy, whiskey always made her angry. 

Tequila, on the other hand, made her very mouthy.

“I just thought my beautiful wife deserved a drink.” He mumbles into her skin, taking the glass from her hand and placing their drinks on the console table behind them. “Also because Jack is sleeping over at Tyler’s tonight and Finn is finally asleep.” 

It was the first free night they had in a while, out of earshot of their very perceptive teenage son and Aaron thought that deserved some sort of celebration, one that hopefully involved making her scream and not caring who heard. 

“So no ulterior motives?” She teases, but Aaron’s lips are very persistent against the pulse in her throat. 

“None whatsoever.” 

--

They barely make it back to their bedroom, clothes hastily strewn against the carpeted bedroom floor with Emily’s legs straddled across his waist and his fingers dancing across her underwear when he hears it. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Aaron groans when a familiar high-pitched whine comes from the living room. They freeze like two teenagers caught by their parents, hoping that the whine would just be Finn waking up for a brief moment before going back to sleep. 

It isn’t long before Finn’s wailing at the top of his tiny lungs and Emily giggles, hopping off his lap as Aaron flops dramatically back onto their bed. 

“It’s your turn.” Emily says, pushing Aaron towards the direction of their door as he pouts like a petulant child. Aaron grumbles as he goes towards the living room, slightly annoyed when Finn bounds out of his crate like he hadn’t just interrupted the one solitude moment that they’ve had in over a month. 

“Kid, I could kill for less than this.”

--

Finn slides into their family like the final piece of a puzzle they didn't know was missing.

He quickly becomes Jack's best friend, chasing him around in the garden and attaching himself to Jack’s hip when he was home. When Jack leaves for college a year after they get Finn, Emily finds him on Jack’s bed, a sullen look in Finn’s eyes at the profound absence of his playmate.  

Aaron finds an unusual confidant in Finn. There are nights that are difficult, the memories of Foyet amplifying the phantom ache in his chest, especially when Jack graduates high school and when he gets accepted into both Georgetown and Yale. 

He raises Jack to grow up just fine and he still hates, even after all these years, that Haley wasn’t around to see the kind of man Jack has become. Despite losing Haley at such a young age, too many of Jack’s mannerisms made him believe that he could have only gotten those traits through genetics. The way his left eyebrow twitched when he got angry, one of Haley’s tells when she was beginning to lose her temper. Jack fidgeted with a pen, clipped between his fingers, the same way Haley did when she was concentrating on a test back when she first caught his attention at 16. 

On those nights, he steals away to the kitchen and sips a fingerful of whiskey. It was a habit he’d developed years before, a quiet moment just for himself. He was used to doing it alone. 

Until they had Finn. He remembers the first time Finn had done it, a floppy 6 month old with disproportionate limbs and an attitude that was driving both him and Emily crazy. 

He could only ruin so many of their expensive leather shoes before they had a problem with it. 

It had been the night of Jack’s graduation and Aaron poured himself his whiskey, raising a glass to an empty kitchen with a hollow ache in his chest on days like today. 

On days that she should have gotten to see. 

“We did it, Haley.” 

Finn had walked in then, intrigued by the clinking of the glasses that was coming from the kitchen. It was as if he sensed the sadness that lived in Aaron, walking up to give gentle licks to his palm and refusing to leave Aaron’s side as he sat at the dining room table nursing his drink. 

He hasn’t spent a night in the kitchen without Finn since. 

But despite the fact that they knew that Finn loved all of them, Jack and Aaron both knew that there was something special about the way that Finn loved Emily. 

Finn was her shadow - always glued to her side whenever she was around. He often favored Emily’s company on the couch over anyone’s, huffing in disapproval when Aaron would come over to sit next to Emily. He was a constant presence in any room that Emily was in, either laying at her feet or pressed up against her somehow. They had often joked that Finn would choose Emily over boiled chicken, which aside from Emily was Finn’s greatest love. 

When Elizabeth dies, suddenly and with no warning, Emily is inconsolable. She had always wished that their relationship was better than it was, despite the fact that it had improved in spades as the years went on. But it didn’t stop her from wishing for just one more day with her mother. 

Finn is steadfast by her side from the moment she finds out. They all hovered over her, but Finn was practically tied by an invisible tether to Emily, refusing to let her leave his sight. He stays still when she cries into his fur on a quiet afternoon, grief heavy in the air. He licks the tears from her face and lays on her lap when their house is full of guests giving their condolences. He doesn’t bark at Aaron, like he normally did when he was hugging Emily, and instead lets her find comfort in his arms. 

“Emily? Have you seen Finn?” She hears Aaron call out from their kitchen. She glances around their office and is about to call out that he wasn’t with her when she hears a loud crash and an exasperated Finn Hotchner.

She opens her office door to find Finn staring up at her, his fur caked in dirt with a trail of mud tracked on their hardwood floor. Jack comes into view, home from college for the summer, with a sheepish smile on his face. They had probably played with the hose in the garden - one of Finn’s favorite past times on hot days. She can hear Aaron yelling expletives in the kitchen and she simply bursts into laughter. 

This was her family.

Mud on hardwood floors and all.

And she wouldn't change them for the world.

--

[flightlessangelwings]

Work of Art ~ Chapter 2/2

Marcus Pike x tattooed!fem!reader

Chapter 2/2

Word count: 4.2k

Warnings: fluff, Marcus being the best boyfriend, reader’s boss is an asshole, attempted kidnapping, reader is a badass, hurt/comfort, happy ending

Notes: This part focuses less on the tattoos and has more drama because it’s me lol. Thank you to @we-can-be-himbos​ for beta reading as always! Moodboard made by me

~

The sun hit your face as you stirred from your sleep. Marcus’ bed was soft and warm and you didn’t want to get up, but when you realized he wasn’t there you figured it was time to. It had been a few months since the first night you came to his place, and things couldn’t be better. Marcus was better than anyone you ever dated before, and always went out of his way to make you feel special. You quickly felt a strong connection to him for sure, and he felt the same about you.

Dates with Marcus Pike were always an adventure, even if it was just out to dinner. He loved to take you to museums and art shows. Of course he took you by his work to show you off too. He even went with you once while you got a new tattoo. You had even convinced him to get a small one of his own. The longer you dated him, the more nights you spent at his place; not that either of you had any complaints about that.

With a yawn and a stretch you rolled out of his bed and slipped on an oversized t-shirt that barely tickled your thighs. You stepped outside the bedroom and into the living/dining space where Marcus was focused on the stove in front of him. His back was turned so he didn’t see you yet. You saw that he only wore a pair of grey sweatpants and the sight in front of you made your mouth water.

Marcus must either have felt your gaze on him or heard you walk in because as you stepped closer, he turned around to face you. He let go of the handle of the pan where he worked on breakfast for you both and his eyes roamed all over your figure. You felt yourself heat up at the way he looked at you, especially how his eyes zeroed in on your bare legs.

It was no secret that Marcus Pike loved your tattoos. He always spent plenty of time tracing his fingers along the ink patterns in your skin and he always kissed all over the artwork that adorned your body. Marcus was especially fond of the ones on your thighs and hips, since he was the one that saw them more than anyone else.

“Morning,” his voice was still rough from sleep as he broke the silence in the room. Marcus didn’t hesitate to close the gap between your bodies and wrap his arms around you as he placed a series of soft kisses on your skin.

You giggled as you leaned into his touch, “Marcus don’t forget about the pan there,” you said between kisses.

He blindly reached behind him until he felt the knob and shut the stove off. Marcus was too focused on you to care if he burned the food. “You’re a better breakfast anway,” his voice was low as he groaned into your skin. Still, you felt the grin on his lips as he pressed them against you.

“Marcus!” you couldn’t help but laugh at his cheesy line.

He responded with a heated kiss on your lips as he backed you up against the kitchen counter. With his arms around your waist, Marcus leaned his body into yours now that the counter supported your weight. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders to pull him in as close as you could as you wrapped one of your legs around his thigh.

You kissed each other sloppily but passionately, and you both quickly got lost in each other’s lips. Marcus kept one hand firmly on your hip while the other trailed down your side and ran over your bare thigh. He stroked the skin of your thigh a few times before he ran his hand up and gave your ass a firm squeeze. The feeling of his large hand on your skin made you sigh into his mouth, and you felt Marcus grin against your lips. The two of you were content to stay like that, or even go back into the bedroom, but the sound of your phone interrupted.

“Ignore it,” you spoke against his lips as you pulled Marcus back in for another kiss. You moaned into his mouth as you rocked your hips against his and you felt the rumble of his low groan against your chest.

But when your phone rang again, Marcus broke away with a disappointed look on his face, “Maybe you should answer it.”

With a sigh, you decided to see who it was since it was unusual for someone to call you so much. Your face turned into a scowl when you saw it was your boss, Rodderick. “Hey Rod,” you put on your fake voice and used the nickname he hated just to annoy him.

“I need you to come in today,” he sounded irritated, but he usually did with you so it was hard to tell the difference. He had no real reason to dislike you, yet for some reason he always gave you a hard time. You did your job very well, and you even got promoted to head concierge in the years you worked there. At least the owners of the hotel liked you even if the manager didn’t.

“Rodderick, you know this is my day off. I can’t,” you dropped your voice as you didn’t bother to hide your annoyance.

Marcus watched your face with a frown as you went back and forth with your boss a few times before you hung up the phone. “Are you going in?”

“No way,” your face brightened up when you met his eyes, “This is our one day off together this week, I’m not giving that up,” you wrapped your arms around him again and kissed him softly. Kisses with Marcus Pike were always just what you needed, and you craved them all the time.

Marcus held you close again as he leaned into your kiss, just as addicted to you as you were to him. But, in the back of his mind, something still bothered him, “You know, I could put in a good word for a job around the office for you,” he suggested tentatively when he broke away, “I hate seeing you deal with him.”

From day one, Marcus hated the way your boss treated you. He noticed it right away, and though he tried to do what he could to help, there wasn’t much he could do for you. Marcus had offered to help you find another job before, but you always turned him down. You told him that it was hard for you to leave that place after having been there for so long, and you finally got the promotion you tried for and you didn’t want to leave so soon after getting it. Marcus understood, but always kept an eye on you regardless. There was something about Rodderick that gave him a bad feeling.

“It’s fine,” you couldn’t help the way your heart flipped in your chest at his concern for you, “Don’t worry about me.”

Marcus looked at you with a light in his eyes as he cupped your face, “I always worry baby.” 

The two of you stayed still for some time as you just looked into each other’s eyes. You clung to his shoulders as if you would fall over if you let go. The tension in the air became palpable, and there was a thought on both your minds that hung in the air between you. Marcus rubbed his thumb over your cheek a few times and you leaned into his touch. The adoration in his eyes as he looked at you made you melt and you felt like you could cry from the rush of emotions that ran through you.

“I love you,” Marcus confessed bluntly.

Your eyes went wide as you gasped.

“I know we haven’t been together long, and I’ve been told I move too fast before,” he felt the need to explain himself as he rambled on when you stayed silent, “But what I feel for you…” he said your name, “Baby I can’t help it. I’ve fallen for you. And it’s ok if you can’t say it back yet but I…”

“I love you too, Marcus,” you cut him off in a hushed whisper as you tightened your grip on him. Marcus had told you about his past relationships, and you quickly wondered why anyone would let his man go. But it was their loss, and you found yourself lucky that he chose you to be with now. You were determined to succeed where the others failed, and you knew from the first night that you spent with him that you didn’t want to be with anyone else.

This time, it was Marcus’ turn to be stunned into silence, and he just stared into your face with an open mouth. But he soon recovered and swept you up into his arms again and kissed you like your lives depended on it. You giggled into the kiss as you let yourself get swept away by this wonderful man that you fell in love with.

“So how about we enjoy our day off then?” 

*

The next day, you found that you didn’t want to go into work. You would rather just spend another day alone with Marcus, but life dictated that you both needed to go into work. You both made plans for a weekend getaway soon, so you had that to look forward to at least. And even though you dreaded facing Rodderick after your phone conversation the previous day, nothing could bring your spirits down.

You stepped into the lobby in your work uniform and a big grin on your face. You quickly got yourself set up for the day and greeted your coworkers. It was another quiet day, not too many check ins or check outs on the schedule. This was the slower season for your hotel anyway, so it wasn’t anything to be concerned about. But your mood was brought down when Rodderick called your name from his office.

With a sigh, you made sure the others were alright on their own before you headed into the office, “Everything ok, boss?” you decided not to push his buttons today. You were in a good mood, and you didn’t want to argue with him right now.

He sat at his desk and held his head in his hands, “I don’t ask for much from you,” he sighed, “And yet I’m constantly disappointed.”

So this was how it was going to be, “Rodderick, yesterday was my only day off this week. I do my job well, the owner likes me, I never call out…”

“Yeah, well I still shouldn’t have hired you,” he cut you off, “You and the disgusting way you mutilate your body with those tattoos,” you swallowed hard and tensed your body but stayed silent, “I’m surprised your FBI boyfriend can stand to look at you naked.”

“Ok that’s crossing a line,” you spat back, “My personal life is none of your business, and you better stop there before I go to HR and tell them what you said.”

That shut him up and he dismissed you. So much for your good mood.

*

The rest of the morning was uneventful, and Rodderick avoided you for the most part. You were more than ok with that though, and you wondered what would happen if you told Marcus what he said. You knew your boyfriend would be angry and insist you quit your job. You also didn’t want him to worry so much about you and put himself on the line for you. His own job was stressful enough without having to worry about yours.

But as you kept an eye on your boss’s behavior throughout the day, you noticed that he was acting strange. Truthfully, his behavior had been off ever since the theft and he definitely was shorter with you since then. But the past week or so he seemed to look over his shoulder more and had more meetings with men that gave you the creeps. 

You had a strange feeling something was up with him.

So, when he stepped out of his office for a meeting, you slipped in to see what you could find out. His desk was a mess, but that was nothing new. Quietly, you thumbed through the papers until you found something odd. Near the bottom was the contact information of the man who was arrested for stealing the painting from the lobby months ago. 

You furrowed your brows and looked at the computer screens, where the security camera footage was displayed on one. On the other monitor, you clicked through a few things until you found the footage from the night of the theft, and you found that the footage was tampered with. And it looked like Rodderick was messing with more recent footage as well, as if he was trying to figure out how to edit the timeline.

Something felt off, and you quickly pulled out your phone and took pictures of everything you could before you set everything as close to where it was before you messed with it. Hopefully it would be good enough that Rodderick wouldn’t notice that you went through his things. 

You slipped out of his office just in time and as you took the first few steps out, your boss came around the corner from the concerference room. He gave you a questioning look, but you didn’t say anything and went back to your computer. As soon as Rodderick went into his office, you pulled your phone out and sent the photos to Marcus. Surprisingly, he replied almost immediately with a text that said “call me.”

With an excuse that you needed a restroom break, you slipped away again and locked yourself in the bathroom at the far end of the hall to put some distance between you and Rodderick. As soon as the door was locked, you called your boyfriend’s number and he picked up after the first ring.

“Is everything ok? How did you find this?” Marcus couldn’t hide the worry in his voice. He knew right away what the pictures you sent meant, and immediately his first concern was for your safety.

“Yeah I’m ok,” your heart pounded with nerves, “I don’t know, Rodderick was acting weird, so when he went to meet with this electrician I snuck into his office and found that. It’s odd, Marcus, even for him,” you tried to keep your voice down in case your boss tried to spy on you.

Marcus didn’t want to say anything to you until he was sure, but the investigation into the theft at your job was not closed. They caught the guy who did it, but there were too many unanswered questions. Even after the agents interviewed him, they still had more questions than answers. But your photos made everything click in his head.

“Listen to me,” he tried to keep his voice calm for your sake, “We’ve been investigating and we think your boss had something to do with the robbery,” he heard you gasp but he kept going, “But we didn’t have concrete proof until now,” he quickly explained that Rodderick had gotten himself into debt with some shady people and tried to hire the thief to steal the art piece to pay it off. And with what you found, all the pieces fit. But now that meant you were involved, and it was the last thing Marcus wanted.

He continued, “I’m coming to you with a small team. I want you to stay away from Rodderick until I get there ok?” Marcus’ voice was serious and you heard the slight tremble in it that told you he was worried. He knew you couldn’t stay hidden in the bathroom, so the next best thing was to act as if everything was fine until he got there, “I’ll be there soon, baby.”

“Ok,” was all you should whisper back, “I love you Marcus,” you added in a hushed voice.

“I love you too,” Marcus replied back with your name before he hung up.

Your hands trembled from nerves, but you had to keep yourself level until he could get there. You knew he would be as fast as he could, so you just had to pretend everything was ok until then. Just before you unlocked the bathroom door, though, you grabbed your phone again and turned on the recording function before you slipped it into your pocket. You weren’t sure why, but a voice in your head told you to do it, so you did. 

With a deep breath, you flicked the lock. Everything will be ok, you told yourself.

But the momentary calm soon vanished when you were met with Rodderick’s face right as you opened the bathroom door. You jumped with a gasp before you collected yourself again.

“Rodderick! I didn’t see you there,” you tried to play off your nerves as you moved to go back to your desk.

However, he didn’t let you and he grabbed onto your arm before you took more than two steps. “Let’s talk,” his voice was low and threatening and immediately the nerves took hold of you again.

“I need to get back…”

“They’re fine without you,” he insisted, “You and I need to have a little chat,” Rodderick pulled you down the hall and used his master key to open an empty guest room and pushed you inside. He stayed in the doorway to block your exit as he ushered you into the room.

“Something wrong?” you asked as you played dumb and hoped that he wasn’t suspicious of you. Although you knew that was a fleeting possibility from the rage in his eyes.

“Why were you in my office?”

“I uhh…needed some paperwork,” you tried to come up with a convincing lie.

He paused for a moment, “Then why were your hands empty when you left?” 

You took a deep breath, “Couldn’t find it.”

“What about your bathroom phone call?” his eyes bore into you and you suddenly felt so helpless.

“That’s personal,” was all you said.

For some reason, Rodderick’s face twisted into a smile, “You’re a terrible liar. You think you’d do better dating a FBI agent and all,” he paced and you remained silent as you waited for an opportunity to bolt, “Your love life really complicated things for me, you know that,” suddenly his tone was pointed again as he stopped, “I know you figured something out. You’re smarter than I give you credit for, I'll give you that.”

Still, you said nothing.

“Can’t really frame someone who is fucking an FBI agent,” his confession caught you off guard and for the first time you showed a reaction. Rodderick grinned darkly, “I needed the money. I got myself in with some people I shouldn’t have. And because I don’t like you I was going to rig it so you took the fall. Two birds one stone thing. But you can’t frame someone when they’re with a fed all the time.”

“So you were behind the theft?” your voice was weak but you tried to keep yourself strong.

“I knew you figured it out. You acted funny ever since I caught you leaving my office.”

When Rodderick lunged for you, you ducked and ran towards the door. You only hoped that your phone picked up his words as you moved as fast as you could towards the lobby. You heard your boss shout your name behind you, and you ran as fast as you could. He couldn’t dare hurt you while on the premises, but he could easily force you into his car and take you somewhere where he could possibly do something.

Luckily for you, just as you reached the lobby, Marcus and his team burst through the front door with weapons in their hands. He spotted you immediately and extended one arm out to you where you ran right into him. Marcus held you tight against him with one arm while the other pointed his gun at Rodderick, who hadn’t noticed the team yet.

A chorus of, “Freeze, FBI!” rang through the lobby as several agents pointed their weapons at your boss. 

Immediately he froze and put his hands up in surrender. But before the agents were able to cuff him, he lunged for you one last time with a “You bitch!” 

Marcus quickly pushed you behind him so he could shield you with his body and his team was able to restrain Rodderick in no time. From behind Marcus, you shook with adrenaline as you clung to his jacket. It wasn’t until the rest of the team took your now former boss outside that you finally let yourself exhale.

“Hey,” Marcus turned around and spoke your name in a gentle voice, “You alright?” He wrapped one arm around you and placed his other hand on your face to inspect your expression. When you were quiet, he said your name again and the look in your eyes nearly destroyed him. He had never seen you look that afraid before and he never wanted to see you look like that again. 

“I’m ok,” your voice was weak, “Shaken, but ok,” you tried to chuckle, but it fell flat.

“I got you baby,” he wrapped both arms around you this time and held you tight against him, “You’re safe,” Marcus kissed the top of your head, “I’m sorry baby, I should have told you. I should have gotten here sooner.”

That was when you realized that Marcus Pike was just as scared as you were. He hid it better than you did, but you heard the way his voice shook and you felt the way he trembled. He really did love you, more than anything. And his fear for your safety proved it in that moment.

“I’m ok Marcus,” you repeated in a stronger voice, “Can we just get out of here?”

“Anything you want, baby.”

It broke protocol for sure, but Marcus didn’t care. All he cared about was you, so he took you back to his place and made sure you knew you were safe. He was quiet at first, but you knew he was going to ask about what happened, so you recounted the whole experience for him. The whole time, Marcus held you close and kept his gun closeby just in case. Whether it was for your peace of mind or his, neither of you were completely sure.

A few days went by until you were able to get back to your normal self, and Marcus barely left your side the entire time. He worked on the paperwork and followed up on the case from home where he could keep an eye on you. He also made sure that your work was aware you would be out for some time. Marcus sat at his computer with files all over his desk while you were in the shower. He was happy you got back to a somewhat normal routine fairly quickly, and you attributed that to his watchful gaze. Being around him definitely helped you feel safe again.

“Marcus,” you voice cut through his thoughts and he looked up to see you in the doorway in a tank top and sweatpants. You looked better today, like the life finally returned to your eyes and for that, Marcus was grateful.

He stood right away and crossed the room to you, “Everything ok, baby?”

You smiled warmly, the first genuine smile in days, “I’m fine.”

“Come, sit,” he guided you to the couch where he sat you both down and pulled you onto his chest. The sound and feel of his heartbeat was a comfort that helped you enormously in the past few days. Not to mention his warm, safe embrace and his sweet words that he always spoke in your ear as you fell asleep.

“I think I’m ready to go back to work,” you told him as you felt his hand run up and down your body. Your own hands played with the bunched fabric of his shirt as you spoke.

“You sure?” Marcus didn’t want you to push yourself, and he would be there for you for whatever you needed. True, you weren’t in as bad a situation as you could have been, but any situation where you were in the slightest bit of danger was too much for Marcus. But you were strong, he knew that. He also knew that you wouldn’t want to stay cooped up in his place forever. 

“I’m sure,” the certainty was clear in your voice.

“Is there any way I can convince you to work at my office?” Marcus was only half joking, “I can put you in another department if you’d rather so it’s not weird for you,” when you were quiet he added, “I just want you safe, baby.”

You were quiet for some time as you thought it over, “I know,” you finally spoke in a whisper, “But I guess I have a knack for investigating though, so it doesn’t sound like it would be terrible…”

Marcus shifted you both so you sat up, “You mean it?” The look in his eyes made you melt and you couldn’t say no to him even if you wanted to. You bit your lip and nodded and he hugged you tightly. “Thank you,” he whispered into your ear, “And no one will give you a hard time about your tattoos. I promise.”

That made you both burst into laughter. It was nice for Marcus to hear your laugh again and he nuzzled you as he kissed wherever he could. It would be a change, but it was nothing you couldn’t handle. And with Marcus Pike at your side, you knew you could handle anything. 

“I love you baby,” he spoke low in your ear.

“I love you too Marcus.” 

[watchyourbluesturngolden]

I’ll never stop loving you

Ok, so, this is very heavy. This piece is about eating disorders. As always, this is only about my personal experience. This is probably very triggering, so I don’t recommend reading if you think this will be upsetting. 

This was not easy for me to write. I kind of just started writing one day when I was feeling really bad about myself and then it just kept getting longer. I decided to post it because I know there have to be some other people out there who have these same feelings, and I want to help them feel less alone. 

warnings: eating disorders, calorie counting, insecurity, hospitals/medical stuff

word count: 4.9k

Y/N held back a sigh as she unlocked her phone. She glanced up to make sure Harry's back was still turned before she opened her calorie counting app and entered the apple she had eaten earlier. 

95 calories. That wasn't really so bad. Well... she battled with her thoughts a bit. No, it was fine. If she didn't eat anything else this evening, besides the pasta he was making, that would bring her to just below 500 calories for the day. Perfect. Y/N's relationship with food was... complicated. She had been overweight as a child, and even now she really struggled to keep from gaining weight. At her last doctor's appointment she had been told to try exercising and eating more greens. She desperately wanted to lose weight, but she also had a very hard time staying away from junk food. 

There had been more than one occasion where she's snuck to the kitchen after she was sure Harry was asleep and eaten everything she could get her hands on. She always felt terrible afterwards. She was physically in pain, but the worst part was how ashamed she was.  She often sat on the kitchen floor, crying and wondering what to do. She hadn't resorted to purging, but honestly that was only because she couldn't make it work. She had tried. Several times. She wasn't sure if it was physical or psychological, but she just couldn't. So, most of the time, she just restricted. 

It had been easy when Y/N started, but since she started dating Harry 8 months ago, it was much harder to keep this secret. It was manageable since they didn't live together, but he was very perceptive and asked her several times a day if she was hungry or if she had eaten. She had gotten very good at lying. 

A simple "not really, I actually ate just before you got here," or a "yes, I finished the pizza we made" was enough to satisfy his questions. She could rattle off these answers without missing a beat. Luckily, he never noticed how much food got thrown in the garbage. Every so often, she could tell he was suspicious. That's why she always made sure to let him see her eating at least once a week.

  Even though she was essentially starving herself, Y/N wasn't seeing any results. She had actually gained a pound in the last month. After she saw this, she didn't eat anything for almost 3 whole days. Harry had been away on business, so he didn't see when she nearly collapsed in the shower. He didn't hear her crying at night because she felt so hopeless. She hid it all from him. 

She had only felt more determined to lose weight since that incident. 

"So, I was thinking we'd watch a movie tonight while we eat. Maybe a Christmas one?" Harry pulled her out of her thoughts, turning away from the stove. She quickly closed the app and smiled up at him. 

"Sure, I'll go pick one out," She said, getting up from the table, taking her phone with her.

Harry was a little confused. She usually had no problem with him looking at her phone; they often used each other's interchangeably. They knew each other's passwords and their fingers could unlock the other's phone. Lately, though, she would quickly turn off her screen whenever he looked in her direction. He trusted her completely, but he knew something was going on. 

Y/N was searching through the list of Christmas movies on Netflix. She loved watching them, but they were so upsetting at the same time. The main character was always so skinny, so effortlessly beautiful. Of course she knew it wasn't real, but... still. She knew she would probably never look like that.

Y/N finally picked one. It looked incredibly cheesy, so hopefully she could focus on that instead of how skinny the main character was. 

She made sure her calorie counting app was cleared from her recent apps and went back to the kitchen. She grabbed two plates, already worried Harry would try to dish her food up for her. Luckily he moved away to wash his hands. She used that time to scoop the smallest amount she could (without causing suspicion) onto her plate. She spread it out as much as possible and took a rather large serving of green beans to make her plate look full. 

He turned back around, frowning slightly.

"That's not very much, love. If you don't like my cooking you can just tell me," He joked. 

"No, you're an excellent chef. I just had a big lunch," she smiled, lying right to his face without a second thought.

"Alright, if you say so. Shall we start our movie?" 

"We shall," Y/N laughed, copying his formal tone. 

He smiled as she walked toward the couch. He absolutely adored her, even though she had a hard time appreciating herself. She had never said anything to him, but he could see it on her face when she spent long amounts of time in front of the mirror, inspecting her appearance from every angle. He couldn't figure out why she felt this way. She was absolutely gorgeous. He didn't want to bring it up until she did, not wanting to push her to talk about anything she wasn't ready to talk about. 

Harry started the movie, settling into the couch. About halfway through, Y/N got up to put her plate away and use the bathroom. Harry noticed she took her phone with her again. 

While she was in the bathroom, Y/N quickly opened her calorie app. She estimated how much she had eaten, then added an extra 1/2 cup just to make sure. Her daily total was... 511 calories. She nearly let out a sob. Tears started forming in her eyes, but she quickly wiped them away. She could 𝘯𝘰𝘵 let Harry see her crying. He was so attentive and loving, and would stop everything to find out what was wrong. She closed the app and splashed some water on her face. Luckily, it was dark in the living room and there would probably be a sad part of the movie she could blame her puffy eyes on. 

She stepped back out into the living room, avoiding Harry's eyes as she sat down. She pretended not to notice his concerned look as she started the movie again. 

Sure enough, about 10 minutes later came the sad scene. The main character was breaking up with her perfect boyfriend, because "they just didn't work". Even though it was very cheesy and Y/N knew they would get back together before the movie ended, she couldn't help but get emotional. All the stress of undereating, recording every bite of food she ate, lying to Harry, and eating more than she planned today was building up. She was just so overwhelmed. She couldn't help when the tears started rolling down her face. Harry didn't notice until he heard her sniffling.

"Oh, love, it’s ok! Don't cry, they'll get back together soon, you know they will," He soothed, moving closer and putting his arm around her. 

Y/N couldn't say anything, but Harry being so close just made her feel worse. She felt too big. She felt like she didn't deserve to have such a loving boyfriend.

"I know, I know, I don't know why I'm so emotional today, I'm sorry," She said, wiping her eyes. 

"Why are you sorry? It’s alright if it gets your heart a little. I just hate to see you so sad," He said, rubbing circles on her shoulder with his thumb. 

Having Harry so close, telling her how much he cared about her, was even more overwhelming. Nevertheless, she tried to keep her tears in so he wouldn't ask any more questions. She managed to hold off, promising herself she could cry to her heart's content once he went home for the night. 

Once the movie ended, Harry moved his arm and kissed her hand. 

"Feeling better now? I told you there'd be a happy ending," He smiled sweetly.

  "Yes, much. You were right," She grinned, which quickly turned into a yawn. Harry checked his phone. 

"Oh, it’s way later than I thought. I better get home, let you get some sleep." He stood up from the couch, stretching. Y/N stood too, walking with him to the door.

  After putting his coat and shoes on, Harry gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

  "I'll text you when I get home. Goodnight, Y/N, love you," he said, smiling.

Y/N blushed. "Love you too, babe." 

She was already feeling worse as she watched him drive away. she opened her calorie app, staring at the numbers. 511. How could she have done this? 511 calories. She felt miserable. She got into her bed, staring up at the ceiling. Against her better judgement, Y/N started thinking about her relationship with Harry. What would happen when Harry wanted to... take it further physically? She could barely handle seeing her own body in the mirror without breaking down, how would she let someone else see her? 

Harry was a good guy, she knew he was. She knew he wouldn't pressure her to do anything she wasn't ready for. But... that really wasn't fair for him. It was unrealistic to expect him to wait forever and, what, never have sex again? She very much doubted he would be ok with that. 

The more she thought about it, the worse she felt. Soon, the tears were rolling down her cheeks again. She did nothing to stop them. 

A few minutes later, her phone dinged. She picked it up and saw it was from Harry. 

"Got home safe. Love you darling, sleep well<3 " 

She texted back, "Love you too, talk tomorrow :)" 

She shut off her phone, not wanting to see his reply that would probably be very sweet and would make her feel worse. 

She laid in bed for hours, feeling miserable and wondering what she was going to do, before she finally fell into a deep sleep. 3 days later (she didn't sleep for 3 days I just didn't know how to make this time skip haha) She startled awake after a very unpleasant nightmare. She dreamed she had finally agreed to be intimate with Harry, but at soon as he had taken her shirt off he started laughing. He broke up with her right then and there, telling her no one would ever want to be with her. 

She hugged her pillow, checking her phone. it was 4 A.M. Great. Now she could either try and fall back asleep or give up and sit on her phone until the sun came up. 

She chose the latter. She swiped away the text from Harry before opening tumblr and scrolling through her feed. Pictures of skeletal girls wearing fishnets, high waisted shorts, dresses, whatever they wanted, flashed across her screen. Y/N decided to continue fasting until the end of the week, then decrease her intake to 300 calories per day. She wasn't making progress at 500, so this had to work. It had to. She didn't have anything else to try. She was already doing yoga for weight loss 2 hours every day and eating next to nothing. This was her last option. She rolled out of bed when the sun started coming up and walked to the bathroom, weighing herself. She sighed, seeing she had only gone down 0.2 pounds. Better than gaining, she thought. 

She changed into leggings and a sweater and rolled out her yoga mat. Y/N found her weight loss yoga series and stretched. She usually did every episode 4 times, just to make sure she was getting the full benefits. 

On her second time starting over, she nearly fainted when get got up from the downward dog. She swayed on her feet, quickly getting down on the floor so she wouldn't fall. She laid there until she felt better, then slowly stood up. She sunk into the couch, deciding to be done with yoga for the day. She was exhausted, and she thought she might really pass out if she kept going. 

Her phone dinged and she picked it up, seeing it was from Harry.

  "Good morning love:) The sky's supposed to be clear tonight, want to come over and stargaze?" 

Y/N smiled. He knew how much she loved the stars. 

"Of course! I'll come over around 8?" 

"Sounds good, see you then:)"

  As long as he didn't try to offer her any food, everything would be fine. This would work. She could just tell him she finished the pasta he made so he wouldn't try to give her supper. Perfect. Y/N pulled one of Harry's hoodies out of her closet, slipping it over her jeans. She loved wearing his clothes. it made her feel small and safe and loved. She scooped the rest of the pasta into the garbage, only feeling a little bad for wasting the food. 

She got into her car and plugged her phone into the car speakers, starting Harry's album. She had been playing it on repeat since it came out. The music was already incredible, but what made it even better was knowing it was about her. Harry clearly felt Y/N was amazing, which was hard for her to process. How could someone who looked like that be in love with her? It didn't seem real. 

By the time she got to the third song, Y/N was almost at Harry's house. She pulled into his driveway and unplugged her phone, giving herself a minute to take a breath. Everything would be fine. She would tell him she had eaten the pasta and he would believe her. Everything would work out.

She turned off the car, walking up the path to Harry's door. He opened it before she even knocked, beaming and pulling her into a hug. 

"I missed you, love," He said, squeezing her tighter. 

"Harry, I saw you 3 days ago," She laughed.

"Yeah, well, that's way too long," He shook his head, pulling away from her a bit. "Did you eat? I can find something quick before we get out there-" 

Y/N quickly cut him off. "No, I'm good, I finished the pasta you made. How does your food still taste amazing, even days after?" 

"I dunno, I guess I'm just magical," He laughed. 

He led her out to the back porch, gesturing at the ladder. 

"I figured we'd sit up on the roof. There's a better view, and... it's more private," He smiled. 

Y/N pretended she didn't know what he was implying. 

"Sounds good!" She began to climb up the ladder. Suddenly, she didn't feel so well. She was dizzy and black spots were appearing in the corners of her eyes. "No, no, no," She thought desperately. "Not again! Just focus, one rung at a time, you can do it." 

Luckily, she got to the top and made it onto the roof safely. She sat on the slightly tilted surface, putting her head between her knees.

Harry's head popped up from the edge of the roof, looking very worried. He rushed over, putting his arm around her. 

"Y/N, are you ok? You don't look so good," He said nervously.

"I'm fine, I'm just..." Y/N tried to think of what to tell him. She couldn't exactly say "I'm  dizzy because I haven't eaten in 3 days" because she had already lied about eating supper. "I'm not a fan of heights." 

"Oh, I'm so sorry, why didn't you tell me? We didn't have to come up here!" He looked like he felt terrible, but Y/N was quick to reassure him. 

"No, it's totally fine, I thought I could handle it a little better. I'm ok, maybe just... don't move your arm?" She moved closer into his side. While she felt self conscious with him so close, she really did feel dizzy and worried she might fall if he moved away. She was also freezing cold, despite the warm air, so she liked having his extra warmth.

"Of course I won't." They sat in silence for a few minutes before Harry spoke again. 

"If... if you're feeling alright now, I'd suggest looking up," He said. She could hear the smile in his voice as she lifted her head. 

"Oh... it's... beautiful," She whispered. 

She had never seen such a clear sky. Billions of stars shone brightly, which was weird since there was usually too much light around to see them. That's when Y/N noticed it was a lot darker than normal. 

"Harry, where are all the street lights?" 

He blushed, looking down. 

"I wanted you to be able to see the stars better, so I got the electrician to turn them off for a few hours. He's an old family friend," Harry explained. "He said he had no problem helping me woo a pretty girl." 

Now it was Y/N who was blushing. 

"Well, it worked. I am very... woo'd," She said. They both laughed before looking back up at the twinkling sky. 

"Oh look, there's... that one constellation!" 

Y/N laughed. "Brilliant, Harry, that ONE constellation." 

He smiled. "No, no, it's... I can't think of the name! it's one of my favorites. it's the one shaped like a W. The one that's a queen, sitting on her throne. This'll drive me crazy if I don't remember it." He reached for his phone, hand patting his empty pocket. "Oh, must've left it in the house. Mind if I use yours?" 

Harry didn't miss the split second of panic that crossed her face. He didn't know that she was frantically wondering if her calorie counting app was still open. She knew she couldn't say no without looking very suspicious, so she faked a smile and handed it over.

Thankfully, he didn't even open her recent apps. He just clicked on the safari icon and typed quickly. 

"That's it! Cassiopeia! The beautiful queen on her throne," He said, handing her phone back to her. "Anyways, I think of you when I see that constellation." 

Y/N smiled. "You see me as a beautiful queen?" 

"Obviously, I do," He said, kissing her cheek. 

For the first time, Y/N didn't feel embarrassed to be in his arms. He had always told her he loved her, but comparing her to a literal queen? A queen made out of stars? That was different. 

Y/N was so happy that she didn't mind when Harry's lips lingered on her cheek, then moved to her jaw. They had never done anything except cuddling, so this was all new to her. She leaned into him, getting lost in the sensations. 

Then she started thinking. She realized where this was going as his lips migrated down her neck. Though she was really enjoying this, she started panicking when she thought about what would happen next. 

Her breathing and pulse sped up. Harry smiled into her neck, thinking it was just her reaction to his touch. Then she was pulling away, or rather, pushing him away.

"Stop, stop, I want to stop!"  

He snapped his head up, backing away and holding his hands in the air to show her he wasn't going to do anything.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I should have asked you before I..." he was also breathing heavily. He knew she was inexperienced and was very nervous to try anything new. 

Y/N felt tears springing to her eyes. 

"I- I have to go," She said, swiping at the tears on her face. 

"Wait, Y/N!" 

She was already climbing down the ladder. As soon as she got down, she ran through his house and to her car. Harry was right on her heels. 

Y/N started her car and drove away as fast as she could. She felt bad because she knew Harry was beating himself up right now, thinking he was the reason she freaked out. She just didn't know what to do. She couldn't explain why she had pushed him away without going into... everything. She couldn't tell him the reason she pushed him away was because she hated her body so much it physically hurt. He would just tell her she was beautiful, and then he would probably figure out she wasn't eating enough. He would force her to recover. And... she couldn't do that until she was skinny. 

She pulled into her driveway, running inside. Before she had even gotten up to her room, she heard Harry pounding on her door. 

"Y/N, open the door!" More pounding. "Y/N, I need to know you're ok! Please, you don't even have to let me in, just... text me or something to let me know you're ok! Please!" He kept pounding on the door. 

Y/N crept up the stairs, ignoring his pleas. She felt awful, but she couldn't do anything. He kept pounding and yelling and she got worried someone would call the police, so she pulled out her phone, sending him a quick text. "i'm fine." 

Then she shut her phone off, jumped in the shower, and cried.

By the time she got out, she didn't hear any more noises. She checked her phone, eyes widening when she saw the 27 missed calls and dozens of texts from Harry.

Her phone started ringing again, but she immediately declined the call when she saw Harry's smile light up her screen. She hoped he would get the message. She silenced her phone, settling into her bed and drifting to sleep.

The next day, Y/N startled awake to more banging sounds. She sat up, leaning over to look out her window. There he was, pounding his fists on her side door. "Well," she thought, "At least there's less chance someone will call the cops on him." 

She heard faint yelling and knew she had to do something. He probably wouldn't leave, at least not until she actually asked him to. It was nearly 3 P.M., and she guessed he had been there all day, if not all night. 

She swung her legs over the side of bed, but a wave of nausea and dizziness hit her as soon as she stood. She took a moment to steady herself before stepping out into the hallway. 

Y/N held the railing with an iron grip as she slowly climbed down the stairs. Black spots began to swim in her vision and she felt even worse than before. Then the room spun around her and she fell. 

Harry's p.o.v. He stopped pounding on the door for a minute to call her again. His phone rang for a while, so at least she wasn't just declining his calls. 

Which... was actually worse. What if she wasn't ok? What if she was hurt, or worse? He knew she hadn't left, he had stayed outside her door all night.

  Right before he started knocking again, he heard it. A very loud crashing sound. It sounded like something had fallen down the stairs.

His eyes drifted to the window and he pressed his face against the glass. His view was distorted through the sheer curtain, but he could make out something on the floor at the bottom of the stairs.

He focused his eyes and gasped when he realized it was Y/N, lying in a heap. He ran back to the door, trying again to open it. When it didn't budge, he went to the front and back doors, trying the same. Finally, he decided what he had to do. Harry ran to the back door so no one on the street would see him and picked up a shovel lying in the garden. He took a deep breath, steadying himself, and rammed it into the glass. He rotated the shovel around, clearing all the shards before he climbed through the hole. 

He ran over to Y/N, dropping to his knees and feeling for a pulse on her neck. He nearly sobbed when he felt her heart beating, though it felt pretty weak. He yanked his phone out of his pocket and dialed 911. 

Harry had been sitting in the waiting room for a few hours when the doctor approached him.

"Mr. Styles?" 

Harry stood up quickly.

"How is she?" 

She's doing fine now. But..." He didn't seem to want to tell Harry something. "Mr. Styles, she is extremely malnourished. She fell down the stairs, you said? It seems the reason for this is because she lost consciousness, because her blood sugar was so low. We usually only see levels like this in people with diabetes." 

"She's... she not diabetic, though," Harry said, confused. "And what do you mean by malnourished? I see her eat all the time." He said, voice faltering a bit.

"From her labs and scans, it would seem she hasn't eaten in several days, maybe a week. She also shows signs of chronic undernourishment, which means she's been eating less than her body needs for a while now.  She is extremely dehydrated, and her electrolytes are very imbalanced." 

"But- how could she- I mean, she doesn't-" Harry couldn't seem to collect his thoughts. "Can I see her?" 

"You can. She's not awake, but I'll take you to her room," He said, leading Harry towards her room.

Harry's eyes teared up when he saw Y/N in the bed. She was connected to several machines, and a nurse explained that they were getting her nutrients up and keeping her hydrated. She looked so fragile.

Harry fell into the chair by her bed, clasping her small hand in both of his. 

"Was she- I mean- was she... starving herself?" Harry's voice broke as he spoke to the nurse. 

She offered a sympathetic look. 

"It appears so, yes." 

"What can I do? how can I fix this?" 

"Mr. Styles-"

"Harry." 

"Harry, you're doing everything you can. We've got her, physically. all you have to do is love her and support her. 

"Right," Harry said, looking down. "Thank you." 

The nurse left the room, leaving the two alone. Harry stared into her face, silently willing her to wake up. She had to wake up. This was all his fault. He must've done something that upset her so much she stopped eating. He thought back to last night on the roof when she had pushed him away. Had she felt like this the whole time? Had she felt so unhappy in their relationship that she was slowly killing herself? 

Y/N's p.o.v.

When Y/N woke up, she was in her bed. No, wait, not her bed. A hospital bed? She looked around, confused. 

She saw Harry, asleep in the chair next to her. She tried to say his name, but she couldn't get out more than a hoarse whisper. 

She looked around, searching for something to get his attention with. She settled on the empty plastic cup next to her, throwing it and hitting him in the shoulder. He jerked awake, eyes darting around until they landed on her. Relief flooded his face as he moved his chair closer.

"Y/N, you have no idea how worried I was about you," Harry said in a soft voice. Tears pooled in her eyes as she grasped his hand. 

"I'm so sorry," She whispered. 

"Just... why? Why did you do this? Is it because of me? Do you..." His voice shook and he took a steadying breath. "Did I do this to you?" 

Y/N shook her head frantically, squeezing his hand. "No, no, Harry, you didn't, I promise, this isn't your fault. It's... I've just... I don't know," Y/N's voice broke off as tears started streaming down her face. 

"It's not your fault, Harry. I-I just... I wanted to be... perfect," Her voice sounded so small. "I wanted to look like the girls in the stupid hallmark movies, who are so skinny and... just gorgeous," She said, still crying. "I wanted to look like them and I just wanted to feel pretty and I just hate my body so much," Her words ran together and got harder to understand as she buried her face in her arms. 

Harry's heart broke a little more with each word she spoke. He stood from his chair, situating himself on the bed next to her and putting his arms around her. They just sat like that, Y/N's shaky breaths slowly settling to match his even ones. He could still hear her sniffling every once in a while, but she had mostly calmed down. 

"I love you more than anything else on this earth, Y/N," Harry said softly. "I don't know what I would ever do without you. I'm so sorry I didn't notice you were going through this. You are the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on, and I don't want to change anything about you." 

Y/N looked up at him. "I think... I think I need help," she said, her voice shaking. Harry just pulled her back against his chest, kissing the top of her head.  

"I will stay with you, always," he murmured. "I know you can get through this. I won't leave your side." 

"No, I... I think I have to go away somewhere," She said, avoiding his eyes.

"If that's what you need to get better, Y/N, then I will support you. I'll visit you as much as they'll let me, as much as you want to see me. I'll do anything for you, to see you get better." 

"I love you so much," She said, eyes welling up with tears again. 

"I love you too," He whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I'll never stop.�� 

[reinerispretty]

rotations. (zuko x f!reader) pt20

HELLO and thank you for reading!!! i appreciate you very very much :D

pt1

pt19

pt21

It was exhausting to put on a beaming smile and cheerful attitude to interact with others, but (Y/N) had learned at a very young age that first impressions were everything. If the leaders of other nations liked her, their chances of working together with the Fire Nation to rebuild the world were doubled.

(Y/N) was having a miserable time. The night that was supposed to be the biggest celebration in over a century was now soiled. She had spent so hard working on it and making sure that everything was absolutely perfect, and now she wasn’t even enjoying herself. 

She sat at the large rectangular table before the crowd. Zuko was to her left, Katara to her right. On Zuko’s other side sat Mai. The two were engaged in casual conversation that (Y/N) was trying her best to drown out. It was hard to maintain a pleasant expression on her face when her heart had been broken just hours ago, but she was managing. The purpose of this night was more than a celebration after all, it was a political step forward in the right direction and (Y/N) wouldn’t let her sour mood get in the way of that. 

Still, Katara’s constant worried looks weren’t helping her mood either. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Katara whispered. (Y/N) nodded and gave her a tight smile. 

“Just great,” She said, picking at her food with her chopsticks. She had lost all appetite for the night. She couldn’t wait until she could go to her room and break down in tears, or set something on fire, or both. But she had a long night ahead of her. 

After everyone ate, she made her way through the crowd, exchanging pleasantries with everyone she passed. It was exhausting to put on a beaming smile and cheerful attitude to interact with others, but (Y/N) had learned at a very young age that first impressions were everything. If the leaders of other nations liked her, their chances of working together with the Fire Nation to rebuild the world were doubled. 

The moon was high by the time the crowd dispersed, leaving only (Y/N), her friends, Zuko, and Mai. Zuko walked up to (Y/N) with Mai in tow. She put on her best smile, but it faltered as she saw their hands intertwined. “I’m going to go to Mai’s house for a little while.” 

She nodded, crossing her arms. “Don’t forget you have a reparations meeting in the morning.” Zuko smiled. 

“I know, I know.” He said goodbye to his friends and the couple walked out of the palace gates. 

(Y/N) turned around to find her friends solemnly staring at her. “I can show you guys to your rooms,” She said softly, before leading them into the palace. Their rooms were on the same hall as hers, and she let them know this and said that if they needed anything, to just knock on her door. 

Sokka paused with his hand on the doorknob to his room. His blue eyes met (Y/N’s) and he gave her a small smile. “You did a really great job today, (Y/N).” He hugged her tightly and (Y/N) tried her hardest to suppress the tears that were forming in her eyes. 

“Thanks, Sokka,” she said as they parted. Hurriedly, so no one would see her cry, she walked to her room and slammed the door shut behind her. Wringing her hands together, she shook them out and lifted her head up to the ceiling, furiously blinking them so the tears wouldn’t fall out. She had promised herself that she wouldn’t cry over Zuko anymore and while she felt her resolve slowly breaking, she was trying to let this moment pass. 

(Y/N) changed out of her clothes and into a silk pajama set. She brushed out her hair and scrubbed her nails clean to distract herself. She almost felt fine again until she heard a knock on her door. 

“Come in,” She called, and Katara walked in quietly. The Water Tribe girl didn’t even have to say anything, but (Y/N) saw the sympathy in her eyes. She turned her head away quickly so Katara wouldn’t see the tears that flowed freely down her cheeks. 

“Oh, (Y/N),” Katara sighed, sitting next to her friend. She wrapped her arms around (Y/N) and held her close. 

“I don’t even know why I’m crying,” (Y/N) said, wiping furiously at her eyes. “It’s not like he owes me anything. I should’ve known that just because we were betrothed as kids doesn’t mean anything now.” She sniffled loudly. “I shouldn’t be crying. I should be happy because we’re friends again.” 

“Whatever you’re feeling is how you should be feeling,” Katara said. “You’re crying because you’re hurt, (Y/N), and that’s okay. Don’t try to minimize your emotions.” 

“I just feel so stupid and ridiculous, Katara. And it makes me mad that I’m crying over him again.” 

“(Y/N), you have the biggest heart out of everyone I’ve met. You might make yourself seem rough on the outside, but on the inside you’re just as soft as unfried dough. You care a lot about Zuko, but that doesn’t make you stupid or ridiculous. The fact you held it together for as long as you did just shows how strong you are. And, for the record, we were all surprised when they came out together.” 

“Really?” Katara nodded. 

“Yeah! Anyone with a brain can see how good you guys are together. If Zuko doesn’t see that, it’s his loss.” (Y/N) smiled softly at her friend. Her words didn’t completely convince her, but they did make her feel a lot better about the situation. She wrapped her arms around Katara’s middle and hugged her. 

“Thank you, Katara. I don’t know what I would do without you.” Katara squeezed her tightly. 

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, either.” They pulled away from the hug, both wearing a smile on their faces. “Want me to stay with you tonight?” 

“Yes, please,” (Y/N) sighed. “I’m going to need someone to listen to me analyze every interaction between Zuko and I.” Katara laughed, which in turn made (Y/N) laugh too. 

---

(Y/N) woke up late the next morning. The night’s events had completely exhausted her, so she figured she deserved a day to sleep in. She didn’t wake up until the sun was high in the sky, and didn’t leave her room until much later than that. She searched all over the palace for her friends and eventually found them all sitting under the big tree beside the turtle duck pond. 

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Toph said. The small girl lay in the grass, her eyes closed as she pointed her face toward the sun. 

“Really, it’s good afternoon,” Aang grinned. (Y/N) chuckled. 

“A long day of planning wiped me out.” 

“You did an amazing job, (Y/N),” Zuko said. He was propped up against the big tree. His eyes looked up at her as if he was expecting her to sit beside him, but instead she chose to sit next to Katara and Sokka. 

“Everything alright?” Sokka asked. “Your eyes are kind of puffy.” Katara elbowed him in the ribs. “What? What’d I say?” 

“I’m just tired, Sokka.” To emphasize this, she let out a yawn. 

“I can ask the servants to get you tea,” Zuko said. “Maybe some green tea to help you wake up?” 

“That won’t be necessary,” (Y/N) said. Zuko was taken aback at how she refused to look at him when she spoke. 

An awkward silence fell over the group, but it was quickly broken by Katara. “I can’t believe you both grew up here. It’s so lavish!” 

“Sometimes I forget about it too,” (Y/N) admitted. “Things were a lot different the last time I was here. You won’t believe how many portraits of Ozai we had to take down. The man only got more vain as the years went on.” 

The group giggled before diving into a conversation about their upcoming plans for the future of the world. Zuko and (Y/N) planned on removing the Fire Nation colonies from the Earth Kingdom, to keep the nations separate like they were before. It was named the Harmony Restoration Movement and had been something that Zuko and other government officials had the task of coming up with. 

Zuko and (Y/N) also had the tough job of handling those in the government who remained loyal to Ozai. Having a government that sided with hate and imperialism would not do well with the plans they had for the future. 

Their talks ended as the sun began to set, which signaled the departure of their friends. They all walked together to Appa and said their goodbyes. (Y/N) hugged each of her friends tightly and leapt onto Appa and hugged Momo before they departed. She and Zuko watched sadly as their friends flew away. 

“I really like all of them,” Zuko said. “But it’s also nice when it’s just you and me.” (Y/N) gave a grunt in response and walked back into the palace. 

“I’ll be taking dinner in my room tonight, please,” She told one of the servants. 

---

Few months had passed since Zuko’s coronation and much had changed. The Harmony Restoration Movement was an effort to remove the Fire Nation colonials from the Earth Kingdom that was heavily supported by the Earth King and his men, but not so much from Fire Nation officials. (Y/N) and Zuko had to take their time figuring out which of Zuko’s cabinet members were still loyalists to Ozai’s cause and relieve them of their duties. It resulted in many threats of harmful action, but after surviving war, (Y/N) found that there was little she feared now. 

After a particularly long meeting between her and Zuko, (Y/N) walked down the lantern-lit halls of the palace. Ever since he had started dating Mai again, (Y/N) had chosen to distance herself from him. While she was happy that he was happy, she found it far too painful to watch the two be together, and she did not want to intrude on their relationship by any means. So, she decided to take a break from Zuko. Their friendship had suffered because of it, but (Y/N) figured that it was best for right now. She still remained his closest confidant and his trusted advisor. It hurt to be so close to Zuko yet feel so far away, but she was no stranger to pain. 

She rounded the corner to the hallway that led to her room and hummed an old Fire Nation lullaby as she approached her door. Entering her room, she readied herself for bed and fell asleep as soon as her head hit the soft, fluffy pillows. 

When (Y/N) awoke, it was not to the rising sun shining through her windows, but rather the sound of glass breaking. Confusedly, she blinked the sleep from her eyes and peered around the room. It was hard for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. “Zuko?” She called out. 

She leaned over in her bed to light the lantern on the nightstand and immediately felt a strong hand twist itself into her hair. She shouted in pain, contorting herself to kick at whoever was grabbing her. Her feet found purchase on the person’s chest and kicked them back into the wall. (Y/N) freed herself and quickly lit all of the lanterns in her room with firebending. 

There, on the other side of her bed, stood a masked assailant wearing all black. In each of their hands was a sharp dagger that glinted in the firelight. (Y/N’s) eyes widened in fear. “Who are you?” She demanded. 

“I was sent here to punish you for your crimes against the Fire Nation,” The assassin said. (Y/N) furrowed her brows. 

“Crimes? What crimes?” One of the daggers was flung at her head. She had just enough time to dodge it before it sank into the wall beside her. She felt the anger rise in her. “Guards!” She shouted before blasting fireballs at the person. They dodged them with ease, flipping out of the way of her attacks. 

The assassin darted to the window to escape, but (Y/N) was just as quick. She ran across the room and launched herself at them, tackling them to the ground. The two rolled around the floor, kicking and punching at each other. (Y/N) hissed as her arm was cut by the sharp dagger. Eventually, the assassin over powered her and sat on top of her. (Y/N) used every bit of strength she had in her to hold onto their arms and prevent the dagger from piercing through her chest. Just as she was about to lose her grip, a blast of fire knocked the assailant off of her. 

(Y/N) turned to see Zuko standing in the door. A few seconds later, guards flooded in after him and apprehended the person who had tried to assassinate her. Zuko ran to her side as she stood. “Are you okay?” He asked urgently. She shook her head and removed her hand from the cut on her arm. It bled heavily, droplets of blood dotting the hardwood floors of her bedroom. 

Zuko took off his shirt and ripped it down the middle to use as a makeshift bandage. He tied it tightly around her wound and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Come on, I’ll take you the the physician.” He turned to the guards. “Throw them into prison. I don’t want them to ever see the light of day again.” 

---

Tag List!

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[moonlitceleste]

New Year’s Day

Timari January Day 1 - New Years Day

@timari-month-event

Note: Happy New Year everyone!! This fic is loosely based off of New Year’s Day by Taylor Swift.

There's glitter on the floor after the party Girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby Candle wax and Polaroids on the hardwood floor You and me from the night before but

Don't read the last page But I stay when you're lost and I'm scared and you're turning away I want your midnights But I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day

“Mmph.” Marinette tried and failed to muffle her tired groan through the thick fabric of Tim’s coat.

It was 2:00 a.m. on New Year’s, and the designer was just about ready to go into hibernation.

Steph had prompted (read: bugged) Bruce into throwing a party, and he eventually complied. It was relatively small and nowhere near as extravagant as the annual Wayne Gala, but one could argue that was a good thing. There was no need to uphold a reputation or make conversation with stuffy rich people, after all. Judging by the rambunctious behavior that had occurred all night, the restricted guest list definitely seemed like a good thing.

Naturally, Marinette was invited—she was Tim’s girlfriend, although it was arguable she was part of the family regardless of her relationship with him.

Her closeness to the rest of the Waynes was evident in the way she was immediately pulled away for some “girl time” upon entering the manor. Similarly, Dick and the rest of the boys stole Tim away for brotherly bonding.

They chatted, played games, ate cake, and eventually joined the rest of the family for the countdown. Joyous shouts and yells filled the manor, and Marinette stole a kiss from Tim when the clock hit midnight.

The party didn’t stop there, though; from then on, it was drinking games and group activities. Well, drinking games for everyone but Damian. He received a glass of sparkling grape juice instead. He wasn’t very happy about being “treated like a baby,” according to his words, but Marinette took her own glass of the substitute and joined him. She had some important designs to work on tomorrow, and she really didn’t want to wake up with a hangover.

After a while, people started going their separate ways again. Some couples had taken to a room in order to ring in the new year together; others decided to split up into groups and do other activities. Dick dragged Marinette to the gym to show her a cool gymnastics trick he had devised, and the rest of the night was spent hopping rooms to find people and make conversation.

The excitement couldn’t last forever, though, and soon enough the adrenaline started to wear. After an obvious change in the atmosphere, Marinette decided to wander the manor in search of Tim.

She scoured far and wide but failed to find him in the unnecessarily large residence. Rather than continue to wander aimlessly, she decided to wait in one spot until he found her. Sending a text would have been more logical, but her brain didn’t seem to be functioning correctly through its tired haze.

Now, Marinette was standing in the middle of the Wayne Manor living room. The din of celebration had long faded, leaving way for a relatively undisturbed silence. The area bustling with movement just hours earlier was now empty, aside from her and Jason, who was passed out on the couch. She couldn’t tell whether it was from drowsiness or alcohol consumption.

“You tired?”

Marinette yelped softly at the person who had sneaked up behind her. She whirled around, startled, and met Tim’s face. He was mid-laugh, no doubt finding amusement in her reaction. She crossed her arms and pouted, but she really was glad to see him.

Marinette had only spent a few fleeting moments with him that night; she hadn’t really had the chance due to his siblings whisking her away at every opportunity. She didn’t mind—the rest of the Waynes were fun to be around. Maybe a little too fun, because now she was absolutely exhausted.

She fell into Tim’s arms with ease and buried her face in his neck, nodding in response to his initial question.

“Let’s go, then.”

Marinette smiled, pulling back to grab his hand. She nearly started walking, but paused and frowned at the living room.

There were streamers strewn across the floor, alongside metallic confetti, glitter, and glass bottles. Board game pieces were thrown in a haphazard pile, and there was a half-eaten cake on the table. It was one of many. The two Marinette baked had disappeared remarkably fast, but Stephanie had bought a large one from the supermarket as well.

“We should help clean up.”

Tim’s brow furrowed as he considered her statement.

“It’s fine. You didn’t make this mess anyway.”

“Just because I didn’t make it doesn’t mean I can’t help! Besides, you’re not going to let Alfred clean all this up, are you?”

“Actually, Bruce would make the rest of the family help. But you’re right.”

“I’m always right.”

Tim rolled his eyes at her antics before giving her a peck on the lips. Marinette smiled and gave him an even longer kiss in return, arms snaking around to rest on his waist.

He reciprocated, but to her dismay, gently pushed her away after a minute.

“I thought you said you wanted to clean?”

Now it was Marinette’s turn to roll her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah.”

The two moved forward to gather the various things littered around, trying their best to be quiet so as not to disturb the body draped over the couch.

Cleaning up bottles together after a New Year’s party probably wasn’t what one would consider romantic or fun, but Marinette wouldn’t trade this for the world.

You squeeze my hand three times in the back of the taxi I can tell that it's going to be a long road I'll be there if you're the toast of the town babe Or if you strike out and you're crawling home

Marinette yawned for the millionth time that night, hands flying up to rub at her eyes tiredly.

She could feel Tim’s chest rumble as he chuckled, and she relished in the heat his body provided. 

Although the back of a sketchy Gotham taxi was a far cry from her ideal cuddling place, she couldn’t complain—the chilly weather gave her an excuse to stay close to him. Marinette leaned back, snuggling deeper into her boyfriend’s chest.

She startled at the brief warmth atop her head as he pressed a kiss on her crown. The designer melted at the sweet gesture and turned around, twisting her body to meet Tim’s ice-blue eyes. He smiled at her tenderly, a genuine one she loved seeing on his face, and she sent back a nose wrinkle in return.

He let out a silent laugh at her antics and lifted their intertwined hands, giving them a kiss. This boy was going to break her if he kept being so charming.

He leaned forward and rubbed their noses together in an eskimo kiss before giving her a peck on the lips.

Marinette nearly whined at his show of affection. The things he did to her.

She turned back around, but only halfway, so her side was laying against Tim rather than her back like before. She would have kissed him again, but she doubted either of them wanted to be caught making out by the taxi driver.

Closing her eyes, she let herself relax, knowing she was safe in Tim’s arms. And when he squeezed her hand one, two, three times, she squeezed right back.

I love you.

Don't read the last page But I stay when it's hard or it's wrong or you're making mistakes I want your midnights But I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day

“Wait here.”

Marinette tilted her head in confusion as Tim quickly walked away, leaving her standing in the middle of their living room.

The two had just gotten home to their shared apartment and set their thing down. After an exhausting night, what more could he have planned?

Her questions were answered when Tim rushed back into the room, Bluetooth speaker in hand. It was pink, the one Marinette used to play music whenever she was baking. Sometimes Tim would join in, and they’d twirl around in the kitchen and laugh, spatula in hand.

She watched as he pulled out his phone and tapped the screen a few times; seconds later, a delicate melody filtered through the speaker. It was a slow tune—not one she recognized, but the piano notes made for a romantic and dreamy sound.

“May I have this dance?”

Marinette turned to see Tim bent forward at the waist, one arm outstretched like a Disney prince ready to sweep her away. She giggled at his cheesiness and placed her hand in his.

He pulled her forward smoothly, his other arm finding its way around her waist in a classic waltz position.

They stepped off and moved in sync with the music, slowly but surely. Although she wasn’t the best dancer, Tim made it effortless. They glided over the living room floor so smoothly that Marinette felt like a princess at a ball.

It was their own little bubble of bliss, and she could stay there forever, lost in the moment, lost in Tim’s eyes.

And oh, his eyes. She loved all of him, but there was something she adored so much about them. Maybe it was the determined twinkle present whenever he had figured something out, or the happy glint they assumed when he laughed, or the way they softened ever so slightly whenever he looked at her.

Marinette smiled and joined both hands behind his neck. Tim caught on quickly and circled both arms around her waist, pulling her flush against his body. She closed her eyes and tucked her head under his chin, swaying side to side with the music.

They both had a lot of things to do tomorrow, but right now the rest of the world didn’t matter. It was just Marinette and Tim—her best friend, her partner, her world—and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

PERMANENT TAGLIST @avengerthewarrior @bluesimani @enternalempires @flower-girll @freesportspalacesalad @glastwime859 @h1sss @heart-charming @jalaluvsu @nathleigh @too0bsessedformyowngood

[votederpycausemufins]

today i don’t have a paragraph above the read more because uh

tw: blood, tw: torture, tw: pain, tw: violence. idk everything i need to tag it with so please please please tell me if I need to add something.

@petrichormeraki

His side hurt as he put pressure on the stab wound. He was trying not to pass out as a knife was held in front of his face. “We’re best friends! Aren’t we? Say it! Say we’re best friends!”

He tried not to cry. “W-We are best friends.”

“What about the bag though, isn’t that your favorite part?” The knife was held closer to him. “Best friends know that about each other.”

There were people talking or shouting, but he couldn’t pay attention. “How about later we read some comics? Play some games. You like that, don’t you?”

He was too scared, the words wouldn’t come out and instead he started crying. “Would you just CALM DOWN FOR THREE SECONDS! Just THREE seconds! Alright? You’re just losing your mind a little, got it. That’s all it is. You just need to calm down with me and we’ll sort everything out.”

But he couldn’t calm down. He was holding a knife and could kill him at any moment. He already had a stab wound. No, it was multiple at this point. How didn’t he notice them before? “Please… I-I’m not-”

“Don’t you DARE say that again! Say it and I’ll lose my marbles. You don’t want me to lose my marbles, do you.”

He didn’t. If they weren’t already gone then losing them could make it worse. Or maybe better? Maybe death would be better. He could just be another ghost like the others who had died.

“Here! How about a high five!” It wasn’t a stab, but a punch and his face started to throb. “You’re just goofin and gaffin around, aren’t you.” And then another punch. “How about a little tickle?” And a pain erupted from one of his wounds as it was poked in some weak imitation of a tickle.

“Please! Please I’m not him!”

“What are you talking about?! Of course you are! Are you insane?!” The knife glinted as it moved down and stabbed him, his already brittle bones snapping. It was too much and he screamed loudly.

It was too tight, why was it too tight. Was someone talking? It sounded like it but the words weren’t processing in his brain. Something about night and bread and robots and birds. There was something black surrounding him. Was it going to hurt him? Stab him? ‘You’re my best friend.’ the sentence replayed in his mind. “No no please. I don’t want to be. I’m not him.” He managed to speak out, hoping he would listen to reason.

There was chirping as something bright blue came into view. It was calming as it moved closer until it wasn’t. Something darker on it glinted and he started screaming again. He didn’t want to be stabbed. Not again. He would do anything. He’ll wear his clothes, live in his house, but please don’t hurt him.

“Grian!” Someone shouted, but he shook his head. That wasn’t his name. He was Taurtis. He had to be. He wouldn’t get hurt anymore if he was Taurtis. He pleaded for Sam to listen. He was his best friend Taurtis. He wasn’t Grian and Jerry wasn’t Taurtis. He was Taurtis.

“I haven’t seen him this bad in ages.” Mumbo spoke, trying to comfort Tommy and Tubbo. The bots were fortunately still sleeping as it was programmed into them. Everyone else was staying in come beds that had been set up in a different room so they weren’t close enough to be woken up. But Tommy and Tubbo had stayed up far too long catching up and Mumbo had stayed in a room with Grian. All of them heard the moment he started screaming. Mumbo was pushed out of bed by Grian’s wings as he thrashed around and the other two had run in to see what was going on.

“He had nightmares when he first joined the server back in season six but they got better over time. The only other time it got bad again was during the head games and a few people showed off their rabbit heads.” Mumbo explained after a few other questions.

Professor Beak has also been nearby and woke to the sounds. He flew over to Grian as he mumbled something, sounding like he was pleading for his life. That seemed to calm him down for a few moments before the screams got louder. The bird was handed to Tubbo who held him close and Mumbo tried to soothe Grian.

It was agonizingly slow, but Grian was calming down. He was no longer screaming and just weeping, begging not to be hurt and that he would be someone named Taurtis. With that new information, Mumbo was able to calm Grian more effectively, not knowing what nightmare was being had.

Grian was still out of it when he was fully calmed down, mainly from the exhaustion that came from not having a good night’s sleep and from exerting himself so much in his panic after waking up. 

“We’re going to have to take him to his mansion.” Mumbo started to explain as he hefted Grian onto his back. He wasn’t that heavy due to his avian nature as they normally didn’t grow that tall and had hollow bones like most birds. “He does better in familiar places and my old hobbit hole isn’t really a place he frequents. More just a place the children like to play.”

When Mumbo opened the bedroom door, he almost ran into Fundy who was holding the pillow from his bed, ears down against his head. “What happened?”

“Oh shit, that’s right, Fundy’s part fox.” Tommy cursed, remembering that meant he had much better hearing. “I’m guessing the screaming woke you up?”

Fundy hugged the pillow a little tighter. “Not right away. It found its way into my dreams first before I finally woke up.”

“I’m really sorry about that.” Mumbo apologized. “Grian’s having a nightmare of his own and it’s really bad. Say, your dad was wilbur, right? The tallest one? Any chance you could wake him up? With Grian like this I can’t really fly us there, minecarts can only fit one, and the nether isn’t the best place if you’re unconscious. I’m sure I can get him there myself, but having someone to trade off with would be best and the taller the better with Grian’s wings dragging on the ground.”

Fundy nodded and went to wake his dad up, he seemed to wake up Techno and Philza too as they also arrived behind Wilbur who was yawning and looked like he wanted to complain about being up so early. Techno at least kept his expression hidden and while Philza looked equally as tired as Wilbur, he woke up when he saw Grian’s condition.

Quickly, Mumbo explained what was going on with Grian and how they would be going to the mansion. He led them over to the minecart tunnels since Grian’s own hobbit hole wasn’t too far from his base and it was a safe path, especially since the sun wasn’t out yet and with how tired they all felt, there may be phantoms.

Tommy and Tubbo worked on waking the bots up as the tunnel was opened. Jrumbot ran to catch up asking many questions as Grumbot just watched with an expression of concern. Normally he was more robotic and logical, but Tommy could tell he was trying to hold himself together as the bot crushed his and Tubbo’s hands in worry.

At around the halfway point through the tunnels, everyone paused as Grian was moved onto Wilbur’s back. The avian gave out a sad whimper from being moved and Mumbo did his best to give comfort. Jrumbot pulled out a green robe which made Mumbo side with a hint of frustration as he recognised the item, but he did take it and place it over Grian like a blanket.

Tommy makes them wait a little longer as he places down his ender chest and pull out a coat that Wilbur immediately recognizes. He starts to argue about it with his younger brother but it starts to upset Grian and they stop without any warning needed.

As they exit through Grian’s side of the tunnel, Tommy explains how he first holed up in there when he showed up. He’s asked how Grian didn’t notice he was living in the same house but then corrects them. “No Grian moved out ages ago. I moved in because it was abandoned.” As they continued walking Tommy pointed out in the direction they were traveling. “He’s living there now.”

They were all left stunned as they strained their necks looking up at the building towering ahead. As if it weren’t impressive enough, Tommy added another comment. “He’s still not done with it and he also built a replica in the nether that is completely upside down.”

As they reached the base of the stairs, Wilbur looked like his back was going to give out just from looking at them all. Fortunately Mumbo took Grian back and also led them down instead of up. “He started with the basement first. It’s still quite large, but not as much and is mainly a storage system. He spent far too long ignoring the actual interior of his mansion.”

“And the back.” Tommy half whispered before laughing at a joke that no one but Mumbo really understood. Well, the bots did as well, but they were too worried about Grian.

Finally Mumbo reached Grian’s bed and laid him down in it. He gave the coat back to Tommy much to Wilbur’s dismay and put the robe in his inventory which made Jrumbot mad. 

Everyone looked exhausted and Mumbo excused himself from the room. He gave Tommy a look and the blond distracted Tubbo so he didn’t hear the distant noise of a firework. Mumbo wasn’t gone for too long as he reappeared with the beds that had been left behind, letting everyone get back to sleep.

Iskall yawned as there was a knock on the wood of their tree. They were surprised to see Xisuma there and tried to make themself at least a little more presentable and not look like they had just woken up. “Hi Xisuma. What brings you here?” They said, stifling another yawn.

“Scar and I were up late going over everything having to do with the smp. We were debating getting rid of the time displacement protection or if we should help the new admin place the same kind on their world. Eventually the topic changed and we ended up on who all lives there. When you and Fundy were at the town hall for paperwork, he wrote a list of everyone there, or most if he can’t remember everyone.”

“Okay, and?” Iskall asked, not seeing where this was going. Xisuma just handed them a paper that was covered with Fundy’s handwriting - paw writing? - and Iskall read down the list. When they finished reading, they looked back up at Xisuma. “So?”

Xisuma pointed to a certain name on the list. “Read it again. Aloud this time.”

Iskall rolled their eye but then looked down and read the name. “Hbomb Aka Hbomb94.” Iskall was about to say more before they finally had the gears turning. “Wait, Hbomb?! That’s where he disappeared to?! I guess that makes sense why we couldn’t contact him.”

“I figured you would want to know. I’ll go see Ren and Stress next unless you want to tell them.”

“I’ll just message the whole group. They’ll want to know and we can have another meet up.”

Xisuma nodded and flew off as Iskall pulled out their communicator. They exited out of the main hermit chat and scrolled down to one labeled ‘vault boys’. They pulled up the chat box and started typing.

<Iskall85>: I know it’s only 8am for some people here.

<Iskall85>: but my friend Xisuma just showed up.

<Iskall85>: H is located.

<AntonioAsh>: are you saying you want a new meetup with him involved

<Iskall85>: of course. He’s been left out of the other times.

<AntonioAsh>: how soon are we talking?

<Iskall85>: maybe a week?

<StressMonster>: our time or normal time?

<Iskall85>: sounds like X is turning the displacement off for a little bit, so both.

<AntonioAsh>: I’ll see if I can make it, but it’s not a guarantee.

<Iskall85>: that’s fine.

<CaptainSparklez>: I’m down. Need a break from wrapping my head around Create. Okay if I bring my kid?

<Iskall85>: definitely. I’m sure she’ll love it.

<CaptainSparklez>: alright! Keep me updated!

<Rendog>: let me sleeeep

[irishseeeker]

                                  i’ve been waiting for you 

Summary: Each time Kate and Anthony meet their children.

read chapter one here

---

chapter 2: kate meets edmund

It started with eggs.

Kate had always loved eggs. Since she was a young girl, she had always had eggs for breakfast with two slices of bread. She sometimes had a boiled egg as a snack or one with some lunch.

She had carried that habit through to her marriage.

Until one morning, she joined her husband at the breakfast table with her stomach growling. She had slept well the night before, Anthony had worn her out after a few rounds, and she was absolutely famished when she woke up that morning. Anthony leaned in to kiss her when she sat down and once they broke apart she reached for the eggs.

She lifted the lid off the plate and all it took was the whiff of fresh eggs that hit her nostrils, and Kate vomited onto their lovely cream carpet.

Anthony had been horrified, carrying her straight back to bed and insisting she sip water while they waited for the doctor.

Kate’s head remained in their chamber pot until the doctor arrived.

She found out she was pregnant that morning.

She had been quite oblivious to the signs-she had missed her courses, but sometimes they did not come. Her breasts had become swollen and she had started more naps than usual. She had put that down to Anthony’s lunch time execurisons to the bedroom since he had started coming home everyday during lunchtime.

Her experience with pregnancy was practically non-existent, the only exposure she had had was watching her sister in law, Daphne, carry her two children. She had watched Daphne glow throughout her pregnancies.

Kate did not feel as if she was glowing.

She felt swollen and self conscious. She also felt incredibly nauseous. As the months passed, she began to stretch in areas she didn’t think would grow, but they did.

Anthony was particularly pleased about the growth in her chest.

Her sickness did not subside for most of her pregnancy. It wasn’t reserved for the mornings like for most women, either. Her stomach could only handle plain foods with little taste.

Anthony, of course, was a hovering mess. He worried about everything and anything. If Kate was on her feet, he would try to get her to sit down. If she lifted a book off a shelf, he would come running to do it for her.

She loved her husband and she knew his actions were out of affection, but the miracle was not the child she was carrying but the fact she did not murder her husband.

When she finally went into labour, it was a terrifying relief. She wanted to meet her baby and finally not be pregnant.

Her midwife, to be blunt, was a word Anthony had taught her-a bastard.

She had spent a considerable amount of time from the moment she arrived not focusing on Kate but insisting Anthony leave the room.

It may not be considered the proper thing for a man to witness birth, but Kate often wondered if the reasoning for it was simply because most men could not handle it.

Anthony Bridgerton was not most men.

A real man would hold his wife’s hand and support her through labor, which for Kate would go on for most of the night.

Anthony Bridgerton did exactly that.

Kate needed him. She needed her husband. From the moment she married him, her need for him had grown and scared her. He was her best friend. He was her comfort and joy. She needed him to hold her hand while she went through the worst pain of her life to bring their child into the world.

Anthony would have not left her side for anything.

There had been a particular afternoon, at around seven months pregnant, where Kate had joined Violet, Mary and Daphne for tea. The three women, having experienced child birth, were not shy with the details.

Kate had managed to keep her composure until she arrived home to Bridgerton House.

It had taken one look from her husband and for him to ask if she was alright for Kate to completely fall apart.

Kate had sobbed for hours. She had been completely distraught. All of her fears slipped out of her like a confession. She didn’t think she would be a good mother. She didn’t want to let Anthony and their baby down. She was terrified of giving birth and the things Violet, Daphne and Mary had said had horrified her. What if she couldn't do it?

She had said all of this to her husband. Anthony had held her for hours, rubbing her back and whispering soothing words into her ear. When she felt sick, he was her cure. He managed to calm her down eventually, running her a hot bath and sliding in with her. He helped her catch her breath, to breathe in and out with her as the warm water slowly calmed her.

They had come a long way in their relationship, learning to be more open and honest about their fears. Anthony still struggled with his mortality and his own fears of fatherhood and he had told her that night as well. He had made Kate's fears feel valid. He had made her feel safe. That she wasn't crazy.

He made her feel that she could do this.

That they could do this.

Despite the fear she felt, she knew it really would be okay. They would go through it together and they would be a family.

The actual birth itself, to put it plainly with another word Anthony had taught her, hurt like a bitch.

She didn’t know how she did it but she did. She groaned and held Anthony or Mary’s hand through each pain as the minutes turned into hours.

Kate knew she was close. The intense pressure she felt and the urgent need to push, which the midwife kept instructing her to do, along with Anthony and Mary at her side, meant she was nearly there.

Her baby was nearly here.

A piercing cry tore through the air and that intense pressure had dropped, the pain still tearing through her but the midwife announced her son was here.

Her son was here.

“Oh my, is he alright?” Kate sobbed, collapsing against the pillows but her eyes did not leave her son. She was so exhausted and happy, the tears and beads of sweat making their way down her face as her son was put on her chest. He was wriggling, slightly pink and purple and he was covered in a white substance and red splotches of blood.

He was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

“Oh, Anthony. Look,” Kate whispered, her eyes tearing off her baby’s face for a second to lock eyes with her husband’s teary ones. Anthony leaned down to kiss her softly and she felt everything he was feeling. They broke apart only to stare back down at their son.

Kate squeezed Mary’s hand once Anthony held the baby, looking at the woman who had become her mother when she had lost her own so young. She owed Mary everything.

Kate woke up a few hours later to Anthony rocking their son by the window. Kate’s exhaustion had led to her sleeping through most of the night and she fell back asleep after feeding Edmund and laying with Anthony for a while. Mary returned early in the morning, fussing over Kate and making sure her daughter was recovering as well as she could.

Mary lightly dabbed Kate’s forehead with a damp cloth.

“Hi,” She whispered, letting out a mixture between a sob and laugh as Edmund let out a small yawn, his entire face scrunching up as he stretched open his tiny mouth.

Kate was still processing the fact this tiny perfect baby was hers.

The first person Anthony had fetched was her sister, Edwina, who had been waiting eagerly downstairs.

“It is indescribable, is it not?” Mary murmured, lightly brushing Kate’s hair behind her ears. “The love you have for your children.”

“Oh Kate,” Edwina gasped, covering her gaping mouth as she carefully sat on the edge of the bed. “He is wonderful. You did amazing.” She pressed a kiss to her sister’s forehead.

They eventually left Kate to rest and Kate lay there in their bed, for the first time, completely alone with her son.

Her son.

She pulled her knees towards her chest as much as she could, still feeling quite sore everywhere. She carefully lay Edmund on her knees, taking his tiny hands in hers.

This had been the person who had kept her company the last nine months. Whenever Anthony had to work, or she could not sleep, Edmund had been there. He usually had been keeping her awake. It seemed bizarre but Kate stared at his tiny little face with his bright blue eyes, she felt like she already knew him. She had talked to him a lot, poking her bump and he would kick her back.

She was looking at her and Anthony. His round nose was all her, it was her father’s nose that Kate had inherited. Her heart panged for her father, who would never meet Anthony, who would never meet Edmund or any of their future children.

He was named after two great men and Kate would never forget the look on Anthony’s face when she suggested the name Edmund Benedict Bridgerton.

Benedict had become a good friend to Kate, he had kept her company and taught her to paint through her confinement with her broken leg and limited mobility during pregnancy.

“You are absolutely wonderful,” She murmured, pressing a kiss to his little fingers. They were so adorable and tiny. “We love you so much.”

“I know you have already been acquainted, but let me tell you more about your father,” Kate whispered, her eyes darting to Anthony’s heavily snoring figure beside her. “We are so lucky, you and I. He is….he is everything, sweetheart. He is kind, caring, funny, incredibly arrogant-but absolutely perfect in every conceivable way. As are you,” Kate whispered, leaning forward to press a kiss to her son’s cheek. “We might keep the perfect part to ourselves. We can’t inflate your father’s ego much more, it’ll explode.”

She could not take her eyes off him.

Her perfect baby boy.

Edmund was so tiny for making Kate so large. She had been rather self conscious during her pregnancy, and when she had eventually expressed her fears to Anthony, he had spent every day putting in extra effort to tell her how gorgeous she was.

Then he would use his tongue, fingers and hips to show her.

What a man.

The door opened slowly and Anthony appeared, smiling softly at Kate as he closed the door behind him and joined her on the bed.

Kate insisted Anthony needed to rest which her stubborn husband finally agreed to, leaving Kate and Edmund with Mary and Edwina.

He looked refreshed despite the dark bags under his eyes, similar to Kates. She knew they would be a familiar feature of theirs for the rest of their lives.

Edmund Benedict Bridgerton already had a good set of lungs.

He wrapped his arms around them, his family, pressing a kiss to her temple and bridging his hand to Edmund’s small cheek to lightly brush it. “How are you?”

“We are good,” Kate said, running her finger through the wisps of hair on the top of Edmund’s head. “I’m absolutely starving.”

Anthony turned to smile softly at her, “What do you fancy?”

Kate grinned at her husband.

“I’m dying for some eggs.”

[write-r-die]

Prisoner - Part 2

Masterlist

Medieval AU

- Norman Invasion of England:

Henry Cavill is a respected Norman baron who has been tasked with finding Thomasin, an ill-tempered Saxon noblewoman, and returning her to London so the king can marry her off to a cruel Norman invader. The two grow close during the long journey, and Henry puts his own life in danger (more than once) to protect the woman he loves.

Warnings: mention of rape, a bit of smut

“If you can’t stay quiet, I’ll have to stop you,” Henry said with a wicked grin. “We don’t want the whole camp to hear you whimpering for me, do we?”

“I’ll be quiet!” Thomasin whined. “Please don’t make me stop.”

Henry leaned back. “Go on, then.”

Thomasin sighed with relief and bucked her hips forward, grinding her center against the knight’s firm, thick thigh.  

She couldn’t remember how she’d gotten into the Norman’s tent, let alone how she wound up straddling him, skirts hiked up over her hips to allow for freer movement. 

She hastened her movements, desperately seeking more friction as warmth coiled in her lower belly.

“There’s a good girl,” Henry cooed. His smile was still teasing, but there was tenderness in it too. “My good girl. Thomasin.” She couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer. She concentrated on her movements, on Henry saying her name over and over, his voice growing louder with each iteration. “Thomasin. Thomasin.”

“Thomasin!”

She woke with a start, gasping for air after her climax was ripped away mere moments before it happened. She was so shocked that she might’ve fallen from the horse if Henry wasn’t holding onto her. He was far too close for comfort, especially after that dream. The dream! Thomasin was convinced he knew about it. Why else would he wake her? 

“I’m sorry to wake you,” Henry said. He kept his pale sapphire eyes straight ahead rather than glancing down at the young lady in his lap. “Did you have a nightmare?”

“No,” Thomasin snapped defensively. She took a deep breath to calm herself. It was far too early to quarrel by her reckoning, even though it was the middle of the afternoon. “Why do you ask?”

Henry shrugged one shoulder. “You were restless, to say the least.”

Oh, God. “How so?”

He narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips in thought. “You were making an awful lot of noise.”

What on earth did that mean? Was she whimpering or moaning like a whore? Did she call out Henry’s name? Or was she snoring and snorting like an old man as her sisters had often accused her? That would be embarrassing, too, but she’d much rather be caught snoring than crying for a man to touch her.

“You should get used to it,” she said. “I quite enjoy the sound of my own voice, and I intend to make rather a lot of noise with it.” The end of her threat was lost in a yawn.

Henry chuckled quietly; Thomasin felt his chest bounce with laughter. She flushed with anger, grinding her teeth. She usually had such an easy time driving people off. She meant to infuriate the Norman, not amuse him. He knew this of course, and it only pleased him more.

He was pleased, too, that she seemed to have recovered from whatever dream was plaguing her. He could swear that she was weeping in her sleep, twitching and thrashing to fight off her imaginary attacker. He’d tried to soothe her as best as he could without acting inappropriately. He’d tightened his hold on her waist and tucked her up against him. At one point, he even hushed her and told her there was nothing to fear. He spoke quietly so the other soldiers wouldn’t hear him – perhaps too low for her to hear. She’d fallen asleep just before dawn and snored awfully until she started thrashing a few minutes ago. 

The snoring was loud enough for most of the men to hear. Henry had a hell of a time trying to bite back his laughter so he wouldn’t wake her. 

He woke her when it was clear that she couldn’t be soothed because he couldn’t stand to hear her cry. Henry hated weeping women, partly because they were a bloody nuisance, but also because he simply didn’t like it to see women cry, especially beautiful ones. 

It never occurred to Henry that Thomasin might dream of lovemaking. She was too pure for it. He could tell she was far more innocent than she let on. Thomasin presented herself as confident and worldly, but she had never spent a night outside of her castle’s walls, nor had she ever touched a man save for a kiss on the hand. That was all in the past now. She’d never see her home again, and the Cavill brothers, it seemed, had no qualms lifting or embracing her like a puppy. 

“It is only you and your two brothers, or do you have sisters as well?” Thomasin asked.

“I’m the fourth of five brothers. We have no sisters.”

“Five?!” She managed to turn enough in her seat to look him in the eye. “Your parents had five boys?!”

“Yes.”

She frowned and turned back around. “You’re jesting with me.”

“I’m not,” Henry promised. She could hear the smile in his voice. “Charlie!” he called over his shoulder. His brother urged his mount forward so he could ride beside Henry.  “Lady Thomasin doesn’t trust my word.”

“Oh?”

“She doesn’t believe me that we’ve two more brothers back in Normandy.”

“It’s true,” Charlie said. “Piers and Nik.”

“Good Lord.” 

Every nobleman in Normandy near Lady Cavill’s age must be kicking himself for not marrying her when he had the chance. What woman could be so beloved to God that He blessed her and her husband with so many boys, and didn’t burden them with any daughters?

“I can hardly tolerate one brother,” Thomasin said. “I can’t think of a worse hell than growing up with four Hammonds.” Not that she liked her two sisters much better.

The eldest, Stephanie, was Thomasin’s favorite. She had long since left the house to get married, but she was widowed after only a few months and chose to take the veil rather than letting her father marry her off again.

Perhaps Thomasin should’ve become a nun. It certainly sounded better than being handed off to the eldest son of her father’s cousin, a grand idiot with a sword who’d probably fall asleep on top of her. But living in a convent meant a great amount of being quiet and sitting still, and that was simply out of the question.

“Why did your king send you?”  Thomasin asked after a moment.

Henry smirked. “Am I not a good enough captor for you?”

She ignored his jab. “Why you, though? We were sure King William was sending his great terror for us.” It’s why all the women and children had fled the Latymer keep.

Henry wasn’t surprised that Thomasin had heard of Baron Lawrence. He was a fearsome enemy in battle and a devoted subject of his king – and about as kind as Lucifer himself. He gained infamy throughout England soon after the initial Norman invasion by making an example of a Saxon baron who refused to yield. He killed the baron, of course, and executed the baron’s sons when they refused to submit to the new king. That’s not what he was known for, though; that was simply the way of things when a noble family resisted.

He gained his reputation by beheading the baron’s wife and daughters, along with the servants who attempted to protect them. It was rumored that he allowed some of his soldiers to have their way with peasant and servant girls, and that some soldiers made the women’s husbands or fathers watch. 

Such a thing would be considered a war crime punishable by death if King William hadn’t pardoned him for it.

“The king didn’t think you would appreciate that,” Henry said slowly. “He thought you might be more inclined to cooperate with us.” The Cavills were gentlemanly, pleasant, and even-tempered, which made them ideal candidates to deal with the Saxon shrew.

“My lord!” one of the scouts riding at the front of the convoy pulled up just in front of Henry. “One of the lads found a place to camp for the night.”

“How far is it?” asked Henry.

“Quarter of an hour, I’d say. Maybe a half,” the scout replied.

Henry looked up at the sky. It was only the middle of the afternoon, but they’d been riding since before dawn without a single break. “Fine.”

“Thank God,” Charlie said. “It’s damn cold and I’m bloody fucking tired from all this riding.”

“Charlie!” Henry snapped. How dare he use such foul language in front of a lady!

Thomasin wasn’t bothered in the least. “I’m afraid England is always cold. If you wanted good weather, perhaps your Duke William should’ve invaded a different country.”

“It’s King William now,” Henry corrected. Thomasin made a noise of discontent. 

The spent the next twenty minutes in silence until they reached a clearing deep among the trees. Thomasin found a large rock to sit on while she waited for the men to set up camp. 

There were about a hundred men in Henry’s infantry. They split into groups of seven or eight to work building fires or tending the horses. A handful were erecting a tent with branches and fur pelts. Henry stood nearby, frowning fiercely with his arms crossed over his chest again. His tunic was loose, but holding his arms like that, flexing his muscles, made them fill out the sleeves so they were pulled tight across his muscles. 

Charlie stood next to his brother, talking quickly and animatedly about something Henry clearly wasn’t happy about. Good. Let him be miserable.

The bear-dog sat at his master’s feet, wagging his heavy tail and looking back and forth between the brothers as they spoke. He had the size and strength of a hunting or fighting dog but the demeanor of a lapdog.  He soon grew tired with the Cavills’ conversation and padded over to Thomasin. He sat down and looked at her expectantly. 

“I haven’t got anything for you to eat,” Thomasin said. The dog was unaffected. He opened his mouth, let his enormous pink tongue hang out between his teeth, and started breathing very heavily. “Go away, bear. I haven’t got anything for you,” she said again. The bear chose to lay down. “For heaven’s sake. “You must behave far more ferociously for people to respect you.”

The dog followed Thomasin around for the rest of the day, which she didn’t mind at all. She rather liked the thing. It seemed to please Henry, too; he could concentrate on his work without worrying about the girl. Kal would look after her. He could even do things that Henry and his men could not, most notably accompanying Thomasin into the woods so she could attend to personal matters.

Thomasin didn’t know this part of the country – she didn’t know anything beyond her father’s lands – but it seemed hospitable enough. She found a brook with cool, clear water and took the time to splash water on her face.

“Do you have a name, I wonder?” she asked Kal. “Or does your master simply call you Bear?” The dog wagged his tail in reply. Thomasin frowned at him. “Where does this brook go, do you suppose?” she asked after a moment. “I suppose it doesn’t matter, though. As long as it’s away from here.” She spent the walk back to camp plotting the route she would take through the trees when she made her escape, which she should probably do sooner rather than later.

Supper was ready when Thomasin finally returned: The men ate loaves of thick, unpleasant bread and dried strips of beef as they sat in small groups around the six fires they’d set up. Henry had something roasting over his fire.

“Do you like hare?” he asked Thomasin as she came over.

“Yes.” She sat down across from him. “Why did you go to all the trouble of catching it? I’m sure the food you brought with you would be plenty enough for me.”

Henry sighed. “In truth, dear lady, I worried you would complain over the quality of it. The bread has the consistency of tree bark, anyway.”

Henry cut up the rabbit when it was finished cooking. He gave one portion to himself, one to Thomasin, one to Charlie, and offered another to his dog in exchanged for performing a series of tricks. 

“Your bear has the temperament of a housecat,” Thomasin remarked. “I’ve never seen a fighting dog that acted like he does.”

“He’s not a fighting dog,” Henry said. “He’s a companion.” He was looking at her braid rather than her eyes. It seemed a small miracle that it could be so long and yet untangled. But he was more interested in the color of it. Thomasin’s hair was a pale strawberry shade in the sun, but it became a deep, rich copper as the sky grew dark. Henry couldn’t decide which shade he liked better. Either way, she had the trademark passionate nature redheads were known for; unfortunately, her passion exerted itself in the form of aggression.

He wondered if her siblings had the same hair. 

“I believe I’ll go to bed now,” Thomasin announced, rising to her feet. “Sleep well, gentlemen.” 

The tent was short but fairly wide. That surprised Thomasin. Why wouldn’t they make several small ones rather than one large one? Didn’t Henry and Charlie expect shelter?

 She got her answer a few moments later. 

Thomasin was just settling in for bed when the tent flap opened. Kal came through first. Henry had to crouch to get inside. He didn’t speak. He simply laid down on the other side of the tent and shut his eyes. 

Thomasin lay in silence for a few moments, waiting for him to explain himself. He didn’t. “What on earth are you doing?”

“Trying to sleep,” Henry replied without opening his eyes.

“In my tent?”

“This tent is in fact mine. I’m allowing you to share it as a courtesy.” He was tempted to open his eyes to see the expression on Thomasin’s face. He smirked at the very thought.

Thomasin wasn’t a killer, but she was quite sure she could cut off one of Henry’s fingers and feel no remorse. The man was a savage – an immature one at that. She may be his prisoner but she was not his whore or pet or plaything. But the only dagger in the tent was attached to Henry’s belt. Fine. She could wait until tomorrow to teach him his lesson. Most likely by shoving him off of his horse.

“You are positively indecent. I don’t know what you expect from me, but I assure you it will not happen. I’ll break your nose before I let you touch me. Aye, I will.”

“I have no doubt,” Henry said through a yawn. “Now go to sleep.”

“Do you know what?” Thomasin’s voice was deceptively mild.

Henry sighed. “No, what?”

“I believe your foul-mouthed little brother is more of a gentleman than you, and he is hardly a gentleman at all. Does your poor wife back in Normandy know she’s married a whore of a man with the courtesy of a donkey?”

“I have no wife.”

“Your intended, then.”

There was a pause. Henry opened his eyes and looked up at the roof of the tent. “I have no intended.” He did once, a beautiful young woman he showered with gifts and affection until she quite abruptly broke the agreement by marrying another. 

Thomasin bit down on the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. She was pleased that he was unattached, but she couldn’t say why. What did it matter? “I’m not surprised,” she said. “Perhaps I shall ask my intended to castrate you once we’ve reached London”

Henry did smile at that. “Which intended? The unknown Norman baron William plans to saddle you with, or the Saxon coward that fled the moment our ships came ashore?”

“You know about Cerdic?” Her voice was more curious than accusatory. 

“Simon insisted we learn everything about you in case your brother or intended or some distant relation came to fetch you before we got to you.” Henry shut his eyes again. “It seems we had nothing to be worried about.”

There wasn’t much to say to that. Thomasin thought Cerdic was a horse’s ass and had once told him so. They didn’t like one another in the slightest, and it was no great loss for their engagement to be broken.

“Tell your bear to come to me,” Thomasin said.

“Why?”

“Because I’m cold and he’ll help keep me warm.”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to come to him. He stays by my side at all times. Or I suppose the two of us could come to you.”

The two of us! Well at least if he came close enough, she could grab the dagger at his hip more easily. Maybe she could stab him with it. Bastard.

“I’ll allow it.”

She lay on her side, facing away from them. The bear-dog fell to the floor with a great thump rather than taking the time to lie down gently. Thomasin scooched until her back was right against his. Henry lay down on the dog’s other side, his side pressed against the dog’s as closely as Thomasin was pressed to its back. 

“You shouldn’t be sleeping so close to me,” Thomasin chided.

“I was in your room with you when you changed your clothes and you’ve been sitting in my lap all day. I think we’re past the point of worrying about closeness, don’t you?”

“If you toss about in your sleep and get too close to me, I promise I’ll smack you.”

“Luckily for you, I’m a very deep sleeper. You’re the one that snores and kicks.”

“Goodnight, Henry,” she said pointedly.

“Goodnight, Thomasin.”

“Do be quiet, Henry. I’m trying to sleep.”

Henry chuckled; the sound warmed Thomasin’s heart. But it didn’t change anything. She wasn’t going to throw him off of the horse tomorrow; she wouldn’t be able to because she wouldn’t be there. She was going to escape. Tonight.

[leafs-lover]

I wish you were here

A/N: This was requested. I thought about making this a fluff piece, but had a change of heart and re-wrote half of it. I just have a thing for Freddie, and not going to apologize for it ;)

Also I am really bad at coming up with titles

Summary: After a stressful couple of weeks apart Fred surprises you.

Warnings: Smut, swearing, NSFW

“Hey babe” you mumble into the phone. You look to your clock on your bedside table 4:17 is illuminated on the screen.

“Hey how’s it going?” he asks as you rub your eyes open.

“Good, just lying in bed” you say yawning.

“You sound tired” he says through the phone.

“Yeah most people are at 4am” you joke.

“Oh shoot. I’m sorry babe I didn’t even realize. Why did you answer?”

“We have been pretty busy, haven’t had much time to chat” you explain.

Fred returned to Denmark almost 8 weeks ago and you weren’t able to go with him due to the pandemic. You don’t have enough vacation days left; you would only have a couple days in Denmark.

You had only started dating in January, and when the NHL paused in March Fred tried to return to Denmark but the borders had closed prior to the pause. When Auston offered for Fred to quarantine in Arizona, Fred asked your thoughts on it.

If he stayed you would have to quarantine together otherwise you wouldn’t get to see him at all. That would have meant after only being together for 7 weeks you would temporarily move into his condo, and spend every second together for who knew how long. Neither of you really wanted to do that, it would be a lot of pressure on a new relationship so he opted to go to Arizona.

You hadn’t talked about labels, and didn’t know what to expect. While he was gone Fred would facetime with you once or twice a week, and you exchanged texts almost daily. He constantly complained about Auston’s terrible taste in TV shows, you complained about your roommate’s terrible attempt at baking.

You didn’t anticipate being in contact with Fred that much, but he always carved time to talk with you, he even sent you flowers a couple times and ordered you dinner from your favourite restaurant. Neither of you thought it would be almost 3 months before Fred would return to Canada.

But when he finally did, you were the first person he saw. You had just over 3 weeks together before he had to enter the bubble, and you spent much of that time together. It was so nice to have Fred back, cuddled up on the couch relaxing with him. When you finally saw him you melted into his touch, and your relationship felt like it had been catapulted forward instead of back even with the time apart.

When he went into the bubble, you didn’t expect to see him again until September, you wanted to see him but you hoped it would be three months, but it ended up being less than three weeks. He carried so much of the strain of that loss on himself, and you tried to tell him it was a team effort. The weight isn’t his alone, but the media and a lot of the fans had a different opinion. Everyone was calling for him to be traded, if the disappointing end to the season wasn’t enough that didn’t help.

He spent a couple weeks back in Toronto, but you could tell he was defeated and needed to get out. He needed to get away from the media, the rumours and spend time relaxing with his family. Fred tried to fight you on it, he wanted to stay and spend time with you. Obviously you did too, but you knew he needed this.

When he left the NHL had hoped on a December start to the season, meaning Fred would be coming back in October or early November. But as the date for the season got pushed so did his return date. You had some late nights at work, and with the time change it made it hard to talk all the time, so when you had the opportunity you took it. Leading you to this 4am phone call on a Saturday morning.

“Go back to bed skat, we can talk later” Fred says into the phone.

“No Freddie, we barely talked this week. Now that I have you on the phone I don’t want to hang up” you whine causing Fred to laugh.

“Okay, but if you get too tired Kære let me know. I don’t have any plans today so we can talk later.”

”I’m just going to make some coffee” you say getting out of bed and heading to your kitchen. ”I only planned on getting some groceries later so I can take a nap later if i want.” You start scooping the beans into the coffee maker, opting for a large pot due to the time.

”Wish I was there for your nap” Fred says to you.

”Mmm same. You are perfect for napping with” you respond.

”Oh yeah, why’s that?”

”Because you are perfect for cuddling with. I just fit perfectly in your arms, and you are like a pillow and a blanket in one.”

Fred laughs into the phone “you just use me for my body eh?”

“Well can you blame me?” you joke walking back to your bed with your mug in hand. “No I don’t actually, I mean it’s definitely nice –“

“Nice? My body is nice? That’s what you use to describe a haircut” he jokes.

“Obviously it’s much better than nice. I just meant it’s nice that you have that body, but I wouldn’t care if you didn’t. That’s not why I’m with you though.”

“Obviously not if you just think it’s nice” he mumbles jokingly. “How was your week?”

“It was so long, I had to stay late almost every night, and there was 3 nights I didn’t leave until after 9. My boss actually wanted me to work today but I had to say no. I felt like I was getting sick from lack of sleep, so it’s nice to have the weekend off.”

“You work so hard you deserve the time off” he says to you.

“Yeah, I have a couple vacation days left, maybe I’ll take a long weekend or something.”

“Yeah you should do that, don’t want to get run down working so much” Fred replies.

“But what would I do? I wouldn’t have enough days to fly to another province. And parts of Ontario are shutting down” you explain.

“Have a staycation, I’m sure a couple days doing nothing would be nice” he replies.

“Yeah I guess” you say.

“So how are my plants doing, kill them yet?”

“Nope, they are still alive, but I should get over there today to water them” you respond.

“When you say alive, do you mean alive and thriving or clinging to life?”

“Uhh, somewhere in the middle” you say causing Fred to laugh.

You continue to talk for another hour; you curl up in your bed wrapped tightly under your duvet. You can feel your eyes getting heavy, but you try to stay awake to talk to him. You are unsuccessful and end up dozing off.

When you return to work on Monday you talked to your boss who approved for you to take Friday and Monday off work, giving you a four day weekend. You are excited for your days off, but you have to get to end of day Thursday. Your week is filled with multiple zoom calls and long days, you are actually surprised your boss is okay with you taking time off.

When Wednesday comes you are completely drained. You had multiple meetings, angry clients and have to finish a project before you take off for the weekend. You were so busy you didn’t even notice you hadn’t had lunch until it was almost 3.

It’s almost 9pm when you walk through your door with some papers and dinner in hand when you hear your phone ring. Your apartment is dark and empty, your roommate away at her parents. You drop everything on your table, answering your phone as you head to your room to change.

“Hello?” you say not even looking at the caller-id, turning on your bedside lamp.

“Hi min kære, how are you?”

“Hey Freddie” you put him on speaker phone to change out of your work clothes. “I’m good, got home not too long ago.”

“Another late day eh?” he asks.

“Yeah I was trying to get my project done before my holidays tomorrow” you explain.

“Finish it?” he asks as you move to the kitchen to start eating dinner.

“Almost, should only take a couple hours tomorrow.” You look to your stove and see the time 9:09 illuminated on the screen. “Fred why are you calling so late; it’s like 3am there.”

“We haven’t talked since the weekend, and you haven’t sent many texts the past couple days” he says lightly.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I’ve just been so busy with work. I’ve been having late days and have basically gone straight to bed. I also didn’t want to call you so late, I know you had a golfing trip one day” you begin to explain.

“Oh I know babe, you don’t have to explain. I just thought you could use a pick me up” Fred says to you.

“Honestly I would love one. My week has been brutal and it’s only Wednesday. Can’t wait for tomorrow” you say sitting at your table. You didn’t realize how stressed you had been until you sat down and thought about the week. The angry clients and long hours have really taken a toll on you. Stopping to think about things brings a lump to your throat, as you feel your eyes begin to well up.

“(Y/N) you there?” you hear through the phone. You zoned out trying to not cry, you thought you could wait until you got off the phone with Fred to break down. You were wrong, and now you are trying to stifle your tears so Fred doesn’t hear you, but are unsuccessful.

“Skat, what’s wrong?” he asks hearing your quiet sobs through the phone.

“I don’t know” you cry into the phone. “I don’t think I realized how stressed I am, and tired. Just everything. It’s a lot.”

You move to your bed and crawl under your duvet, wrapping yourself tightly into a cocoon. Fred stays on the other end; he doesn’t say anything for a while, letting you cry in silence. After a couple minutes your eyes begin to get heavy, as your sobs have stopped.

“I wish you were here” you say lightly.

“Me too kære” he says. He stays on the line while you lay in bed, not hanging up until he hears your soft breaths through the phone.        

“You should go” your boss says poking her head in your office at 3pm. “Start your weekend a couple hours earlier” she says smiling at you.

“You sure? I don’t want –“

“(Y/N) this place won’t fall apart without you, enjoy your time off.” With that your boss walks away, you shut down your computer and grab your jacket. You reach to grab your phone and see the blinking light. You unlock it to a text from Freddie.

F: Don’t forget to water my plants

Y/N: I watered them Monday…

F: That’s 3 days, you trying to kill them? ;)

You laugh at his message. Instead of responding you decide to go to his condo and send him a picture of you watering his plants. You jump in your car and head to his place. You park in the underground lot and make your way to the elevator. You walk down his hall and unlock his door when you hear music playing in the kitchen.

You don’t remember even listening to music when you were last here. Did someone break in? But who breaks in and plays music? You set your bag down and look around not noticing that anything missing or broken.  You walk through the living room and hear clattering in the kitchen and panic sets in someone is in here.

If you weren’t so panicked you would have noticed the bag in the living room, and the pair of shoes by the front door. You hear footsteps in the kitchen and turn around to run and hide when you feel hands on your hips.

They spin you around and pull you in tight to their chest and wrap their arms around your back. You go to push yourself off the person when you smell the familiar cologne.

“You’re off early” he mumbles kissing your head.

“Fred?” you whisper in disbelief, looking up at the person in front of you.

Your eyes meet his golden brown eyes, and red hair. You bring your hands up and stroke his beard “what are you doing here?”

Instead of answering you he smiles and kisses you. Your hand tangles into his hair when he pulls back slightly “I missed you” he mumbles against your lips.

“I missed you too” you say smiling. Without warning you jump, Fred catches you and carries you into the kitchen setting you on the counter.

“Can’t believe you’re here” you say pulling him to you for a kiss.

“I know, I didn’t know when I was going to come back but after last night I knew I had to come see you. Hearing you cry broke my heart, but the worst part was not being able to do anything about it.” He brushes a piece of your hair behind you ear “I booked a flight right after you fell asleep.”

He leans in to place a soft kiss on your lips, you snake your hands into his hair, stroking his beard on the way. You pull him closer, locking him in for a passionate kiss. You don’t want to ever be apart from him again, and you groan slightly when Fred pulls away from you.

“I wasn’t expecting you for a little bit longer. I wanted to have dinner ready when you got here to try and salvage the life from my plants” Fred jokes looking over at his wilting plant on his table.

You laugh “yeah sorry about that. I was doing a good job at it, then work got crazy and I didn’t get over here as often as I’d like” you explain to him.

Fred kisses your neck “its fine, I didn’t expect them to be alive” he mumbles.

“Rude” you say turning your neck to allow him more access as he peppers kisses. Fred laughs before walking away from you. He walks over to the cupboard and pulls out two wine glasses and pours you each a glass.

He walks back and hands you a glass, he puts his other hand beside you on the counter.

“When did you get in?” you ask.

“About 2 hours ago” he replies kissing your cheek. “8 weeks is too long to be away from you.” You take a sip from your wine and turn your neck to allow him more access.

Fred runs a hand up your thigh, giving it a light squeeze. “We’ve gone longer than that Fred” you whisper.

“Yeah because the border was closed” he whispers kissing your collarbone.

“Wait it’s still closed, how did you get in?” you ask pulling away to look at him.

“I have a Visa to play on the Leafs, it allowed me back in. Should have come back sooner” he mumbles kissing down your neck again. His hands lift your legs; he places his hands under them pulling you closer to him.

“Why didn’t you?” you ask running your hand up and down his biceps as Fred sucks on your neck.

“I’m a stupid man” he mumbles his hands stroking up and down your thighs, nipping on your neck. You moan lightly, placing your wine glass on the counter. Fred moves his hands to the back of your thigh and hoists you up. You wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you down the hall to his bedroom.

He kicks his bedroom door open and reaches to the wall to turn on the light. He gently places you on the bed, his mouth attaches to yours as he hovers over top of you. Your hands gently rake through his beard, as his tongue swirls in your mouth. His hand slides up your shirt gently, his thumb pressing circles onto the skin of your stomach.

Fred grabs the hem of your shirt and pulls it over your head; he sits up on his knees and removes your pants from you leaving you in your underwear.

“This is nice” Fred says taking in your matching red set, his finger lightly grazes the fabric.

“It’s new” you respond “thought of you when I bought it.”

Fred grins, stroking a finger over your clothed core. He quirks an eyebrow at you when he feels the wetness that has accumulated “it’s been a while” you say smiling at him.

“Let me fix that” he says pulling your underwear down your legs. He lies on his stomach, hooking your legs over his shoulders. He stares into your glistening pussy for a minute; his beard rubs against your thighs his breath makes you quiver.

He finally attaches his tongue to you, licking up your juices. You moan at the contact, his tongue is still dancing outside your folds. He groans at the taste of you, before he pushes his tongue inside you. You throw your head back into the pillow as his tongue slips inside your walls.

He brings his hand up to your clit and begins to press circles into it, as his tongue slowly licks the inside of your walls. Your hands slide down to his shoulder and you squeeze them firmly as he keeps fucking his tongue in and out of you.

“Freddie” you moan as his tongue continues to press deep inside you.

You grip his shoulder and attempt to pull him up to you. You feel Fred chuckle against you, but he doesn’t stop, pressing his thumb harder into your clit.

“Babe” you groan pulling harder on his shirt “I need you.”

Fred pulls back slightly staring at you with eyes dark from lust “you have me smuk” he chuckles. He attaches his lips to your clit and sucks on it, a fuck falls from your lips. Your legs begin to squirm slightly at the feeling.

“Fred…Fred…Fuck…I” you can’t form a coherent thought as he slips two fingers inside you, sucking on your sensitive bud.

His fingers begin to pump in and out of you as he pulls his mouth from you and begins sucking on your hip. He alternates between sucking and biting on your hip. Your hip arches off the bed as he continues to pump his fingers inside you.

“This what you want babe” he asks bringing his other hand to your bra, massaging your breast.

You bring a hand down to his wrist and clamp it. He stops moving his wrist and looks into your eyes.

“I need you Fred, I can’t wait” you say panting. Fred grins and slips his fingers out of you, and quickly pulls his shirt over his head. You reach up and grip his neck pulling him down to you. You lock lips with him, your hand slides up and down his firm bicep. Fred slides a hand under your back and unclasps your bra, freeing your breasts.

His firm shirtless body is pressed against you; you can feel his erection straining through the fabric of his clothes. You palm over his pants lightly before sliding your hand around to his back. His mouth leaves you and slides down to your breast and begins sucking on it, he brings a hand up and starts rolling your other nipple through his fingers, pinching it slightly. Your hands slide down his back and reach his sweat pants; you begin to push them down his large thighs.

Fred pulls away and pushes his pants and boxers down his legs and onto the floor. He falls on top of you and returns his mouth to yours; you roll and push him onto his back. You straddle him and begin grinding against his hard cock, desperate to have him inside you.

You hear Fred mumble in Danish as you continue to rock your hips against him. You fall forward kissing Fred, his hand tangles into your hair locking you in a passionate kiss. You reach over to the side table and pull a condom out.

You pull back and tear the foil, sliding it onto his hard member. You give him a few strokes before you rise up and line him up with your entrance. Fred brings his hands to your hips; you slowly start to drop down on him.

“Fuck” you mumble at the feeling of Fred inside of you, your hand goes onto his abs and you brace yourself. Fred is longer than any man you have been with, you had started to get used to his size but then he left to go to Denmark. You know Fred will hit areas nobody has ever hit before, but you just need to adjust.

“You okay smuk?” Fred asks looking up at you.

You keep dropping yourself down on him “yeah” you whine “just been a bit.”

He chuckles pulling your head down to his. You moan at the change of angle before Fred kisses you lightly.

“Don’t worry, take your time. I’m going to get you used to it soon” he smirks kissing you.

You haven’t taken all of him but you rise up and drop down on him. You moan into the kiss, Fred’s hand holding you to him, his other hand rests on your hip. You pull away from the kiss, Fred sucks on your bottom lip as you rise up and drop back down. Fred bottoms out in you, your ass hits against his thighs as you thrust on him.

“Ahh” you moan feeling him hit the deep spot inside you. Fred is still under you allowing you time to set the pace and get comfortable with him. You continue slowly thrusting on him, pushing yourself up. Your hand returns to his abs as you increase the pace.

Fred snaps his hips and pushes in you, as you drop onto him. His hands are on your hip, gripping you tightly as he helps guide you, keeping the slow pace. Your head falls back as you thrust on him; Fred slowly increases the pace under you.

You push into his stomach as your pace increases, rocking your hips against him. You bounce on top of Fred, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease. He brings a hand up to your breast, cupping it as you ride him. He rolls your nipple through his fingers, as your nails dig into his firm stomach muscles. Your hand slides down his treasure line, pressing hard into his groin as you feel your high approaching.

“You gonna cum baby?” Fred asks noticing you are chasing your high. He squeezes your breast hard, pinching your nipple in the process. You hum in response unable to form words. Fred releases your breast and slides his hand down to your clit to press circles into it.

“Yeah, cum on me baby. I want to feel you, feel you’re cum drip down me” he says pressing harder into your sensitive bud. His hips snap and the pace is fast, you are a mess on top of him. Sweat is dripping down Fred’s stomach; you can feel it under your hand.

“Fuck Fred” you scream out, your orgasm is close. With every thrust Fred his your g-spot, your skin flapping has filled the room, followed by occasional curse words. You notice Fred becoming erratic under you as you continue bouncing on him.

Your orgasm crashes over you, the most intense one you have had in a while. You clench around him, your walls tighten, and you feel it in your stomach. Your eyes roll back into your head as Fred continues to thrust inside of you. Your juices dripping down his cock.

He strains to keep going, allowing you to finish your orgasm. As you finally come around you feel Fred still under you. You collapse onto his chest, his arms wrap around you. You lie on him, both your breaths slowly return to normal.

A couple minutes later Fred rolls to be on top of you, he kisses you briefly before heading to the bathroom to dispose of the condom. He pulls on his boxers and throws a t-shirt to you. You smile and pull it over your head; Fred climbs into bed and pulls you into his arms.

“I was going to make you dinner, but I think I’m too tired now” Fred jokes, stroking up and down your arm. “You okay with ordering in?”

You look up and into his golden brown eyes “sounds perfect” you respond. Fred leans down and kisses you, wrapping you tightly into his arms.

“So you should spend your long weekend here with me” Fred mumbles against your lips.

You smile and stroke his beard “I don’t plan on leaving; I want to spend as much time with you as possible. When are you heading back to Denmark?” you ask lightly, not really wanting to know the answer.

“I’m not” Fred replies. You look directly into his eyes “not unless you come with me” he says lightly kissing you again.   

[peachyteabuck]

♡ calm after the storm ♡

summary: post-wedding day bliss, a commission for @bravevesperia01​

pairing: natasha romanoff x reader

words: 5,010

trigger warnings: sickening fluff, strap ons, vaginal fingering, light allusions to carolnat, overstimulation

ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi

The wedding was perfect, everything you had imagined. You had the perfect dress, the perfect flowers, the perfect guests, the perfect catering, the perfect venue, the perfect wife.

But, even as you celebrated and beamed and cried happy tears and held hands and kissed and exchanged vows, the best-day-of-your-life was completely and utterly exhausting – all the dancing and smiling and photos and pure unadulterated happiness left you stumbling to the hotel room Nat and you were going to share for a few days before you left for your honeymoon – scheduled for a rest Mexico where the sun promised to shine and your phones were to be turned off for the longest in either of your careers.

“You okay, babe?” she asks once you’re both in the elevator, watching you closely as you use her for balance while you take off your painful heels.

You groan in pain as your feet – now able to flatten and breathe and finally not stuck in stuffy plastic – hit the cold material of the floor fancy, dark marble flooring. “Define ‘okay,’ would you please?”

Natasha just snorts, holding you close as your eyes droop and your legs threaten to give out. “Oh, darling. We’re almost there, I promise.”

Natasha isn’t lying – you’re only forced to travel about five more floors and a short walk to get to your grand suite before you can collapse into the giant bed, something you had thought about all day with its obnoxiously high thread count sheets and mountain of beautiful, plush pillows.

Each of you had both been in there, in what now sounds like paradise, that morning. You both needed to drop off your luggage and whatever else you’d think you’d need for the Honeymoon (the visits were perfectly timed, though, so that you avoided seeing one another). Despite this, you yourself had no idea how long and treacherous the journey would be.

(In reality, was it fifty feet? Probably. But does that mean you’re not going to complain about it? Absolutely not.)

You nearly scream with relief when you step into the room, allowing yourself to slouch and burp and groan in pain.

Natasha puts the two bottles of champagne she’d taken from the reception on one of the end tables by the door, never letting go of your hand.

When she turns back to you she sees you, struggling uncomfortably in your dress as if you were one of the small children that attended the ceremony – stuffed into fancy clothes for hours as their parents mingled.

Natasha opted to wear a well-tailored suit, something you became incredibly jealous of about ten seconds after you were stuffed into the wedding dress.

“C’mere,” Natasha murmurs into your skin, hands rubbing into your shoulders. “Let me help you out of this thing.”

You don’t deny the help, moving your perfectly done hair to the side so she can access the complicated lace-up back that held your strapless dress to your body.

“You looked so beautiful tonight,” Natasha tells you, assassin hands making quick work of the expensive, intricately woven ribbon. “Like a goddess in a dream.”

If you had more energy you’d blush wildly, stutter through a “thank you” and do your best to compliment her back. Now, though, all you can seem to manage is a small smile and an equally tiny “thanks” as the dress falls to your feet, Natasha helping you step out of it – leaving you in the fancy lingerie that costs spent God knows how from some fancy designer you .

It’s pretty, a deep orange that compliments your skin exceptionally well – a pre-wedding gift from Carol.

“I know she likes,” she says with a wink, handing you the bag as you got your hair done that morning. You know she’s referring the numerous threesomes you and Natasha had had with her and it makes you bark out a laugh.

The hairdresser glares at you for messing up her flow, and you apologize meekly before giggling once more.

“Wow,” Nat mumbles, eyeing you up and down. “That looks fucking amazing on you.”

You smile, weak but genuine as you let out a small yawn. “Thanks, Carol of all people thought you would like it.”

Your wife barks out a loud laugh, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. “Oh, of course she did.”

Natasha gives you another once-over, another lingering glance, before she grabs your hand - leading you to the table where she had your make up mirror set up, along with your large collection of post-make up necessitates. Next to the several large make up bag’s worth of stuff is the fluffiest robe you’ve ever seen, and as you press your hand to it to pinch the cloth between your fingers, you can feel it had been warmed.

God, you love your wife so much – almost as much as you want to wrap yourself in that robe for the next one thousand years and never, ever take it off.  

“Now,” Natasha tells you, coming behind you to leave a kiss at the base of your neck. “Get comfortable while I run us a nice, hot bath so the both of us can properly destress from the day. Got it?”

You nod as you sit down, taking it all in as Natasha eases herself away.

“I love you so much!” you call out to her. “You’re the best wife ever!”

A beat passes before you hear a response. “I know!”

After pulling the robe on and nearly crying at how good it feels, you work on taking your thick make up off while Natasha does her thing in the bathroom – faint music playing from a Bluetooth speaker she had remembered to pack.

Natasha, your wife. The woman you’ve loved for years, the woman you’ve known was the one since you saw her at that fashion show Tony made her go to because Bruce (the one most susceptible to Tony’s extroverted nonsense) bowed at to deal with some “nuclear-fission” related stuff.

You were a model, another person stepping in for a friend when another friend had more important things to do. Natasha was taken with you when you first stepped out of the runway, insisting that she meet you backstage.

Luckily, Tony allowed to use her connection to him to get there, flashing the Stark Industries part of her invite in front of anyone who tried to step in her way. You were there, undoing the tight ponytail at a well-lit mirror while wearing sweatpants and a crop top and flip flops – a fantastical contrast to the deep maroon ballgown you were stuffed inside for the show.

She was awestruck, as were you, and while you both stared at each other, wordless, the designer you were doing a favor for had the good sense to step in and introduce you.

It was horrible awkward for you and Natasha, exchanging numbers and introducing yourself like dumbstruck preschoolers meeting new friends on the first day of school. Eventually you had to leave, torn from her gaze by another model insisting you get drinks.

Natasha was pulled in the other direction by Tony, who wanted to go clubbing like his life depending on it.

Needless to say, you were texting the entire night, next morning, and the day after…plus the week after that…

The rest, of course, is history.

You smile as you rub the last of your professionally applied eyeliner off, taking out your serums and creams to be used next.

You’re on a moisturizing thing for your under-eyes when Natasha calls for you.

“The bath is ready!” she yells, suddenly appearing in the doorway. You smile at her in your mirror before joining her in the-

“Holy shit, this bathroom is fucking huge!”

Natasha laughs, stripping you before she replies. “Well, we sure are paying enough for it.”

You snort. “Actually, Tony’s paying for it.”

Natasha rolls her eyes as she guides you to the tub, pushing your clothes aside with her foot. “Of course, how could I forget?”

Tony – a man who was likely more excited about the wedding than anything else – had insisted from day one that he should be the one to pay for the honeymoon and anything else one would call “expensive.”

Once you mumbled something about the container store being a possibility of where you would register, and after a rough draft list he bought everything you desired.

(How he got that list, you don’t know, since the only people you sent it to was Natasha and Wanda. In all honesty, you try not to think about it, as you had much more pertinent things to worry about when it came to your wedding.)

Natasha steadies you climb into the bath and you sink into the hot water with a deep moan, already beginning to rub into your sore muscles.

“Baby, don’t do that yet,” Natasha tuts, throwing another handful of bath salts into the large tub. Too tired to disagree, you watch her with hooded eyes while she undresses before pushing you forward to make room for her behind you. “Let me help you.”

Your head falls back to lean against her shoulder as she massages you with nimble, callous fingers.

“You’re really good at this,” you whisper, kissing what little skin you can reach.

She starts at your feet, easily working her way up your ankles, calves, knees, thighs.

Your breath hitches when she moves to your hips – but it calms when she brushes over them and moves to your shoulders.

“Better?” she asks as she works out knots the size of Thor from between your shoulder blades.

You nod, leaning back against her. “Yeah, much better.”

You can feel her smile turn a little wicked as she speaks. “Then this should be amazing.”

Before you can question her, both hands move to your chest, massaging your breasts – sore from the corset of the dress and the beautiful (but uncomfortable) lace lingerie.

It feels so good; a breath of fresh hair after being choked (both literally and metaphorically), stepping into the sun after weeks of rain, touching the skin of another after being kept alone for so long.

“God,” you whisper, leaning into her hands. “Fuck this is the best.”

You can feel Natasha smile into the skin of your shoulder. “Yeah? You like that?”

You giggle as you reply. “Very much so.”

Only then does she stop, moving to grab at the basket of nice-smelling objects you can’t identity until Natasha brings it in front of you, holding it above the water and close to your face. You can see bathe bombs and salts, essential oils, bubble bath.

“Pick one,” Natasha tells you, whispering.

You take one shaky hand from the water and dry it as best you can, grabbing a pale pink sphere that smells vaguely of peaches and a summer breeze.

Natasha nudges you and you drop it into the water, watching silently as it fizzled and dissolved into the hot water.

Behind you, you can hear her grabbing something else – popping what you think is a lid open and squirting its contents into her hands.

You suck in a breath, hoping her hands will go back to your chest, but to your dismay she simply goes back to your shoulders.

“You carry a lot of tense energy here,” she teases playfully. You can’t tell if she’s mocking you or the massage you two had gotten a few weeks back when Wanda noticed how much wedding planning had taken a toll on the both of you.

They were good, the massage therapists that she had hired were well trained and knew what they were doing, but one of them had this stereotypical voice and vocabulary and both you and Natasha had turned her into some sort of inside joke.

“Now,” she told Natasha as her elbow was inches-deep in the woman’s spine. “You carry a lot of stress around your spine, so you need to be mindful of that…”

Natasha nodded along, as did you, despite not a single clue what that meant. You both quoted when the other got stressed again, reminding the other person to relax that furrow in your brow just a little.

Regardless of intent, you giggle and let her work out the knots that have made homes along your shoulder blades and spine, your hands resting on her knees that rest near your sides in the hot water.

“What was the favorite part?” you ask, wanting to hear the voice of your wife instead of the sleep-inducing silence. You wanted to be awake, wanted to experience this with her.

You can somehow feel Natasha smiling softly. “Oh god, you were – obviously, but it was just so nice to see everyone there, everyone I love being there and celebrating with us…”

The feeling of her fingers digging into your muscles lulls you into a semi-unconscious state, listening to her stories from the best day of her and your life.

“I think Thor bringing that ale was only a good idea, because seeing Steve and Bucky drunk was…” she laughs, and if you could live in that melodic sound, you would. “It was fucking hilarious. Who knew Bucky was a giggley drunk and Steve was a horny one – I don’t think I’ve ever seen two men grind on each other so hard for so long in one night in my life!”

You let out a soft laugh with her, hoping she continues.

Luckily, she does.

“Your mom was horrified! But everyone else thought it was hysterical. Even your Dad was a little into it…”

You snort a little, as does she.

“It was also so good to see Pepper let go for a minute, too she’s been so busy with Stark Industries shit, and watching her dance with Morgan after that adorable little thing ‘caught’ that stupid thing at the bouquet throwing.

“And I hope you know everyone was crying with us when we finally said, ‘I do.’ Even your Dad, but Thor especially…I had no idea that man could so sob so loud…”

It all lulled together after that, white noise as you found yourself floating on air and caught in an indefinable cloud of contentless.

Natasha brings you back to reality, eventually, easily turning you around and leaving kisses along your eyes, nose, cheeks, then your lips.

“You good?” she asks, watching as your eyes flitter open.

You nod, voice weak. “Yeah, yeah. I’m…good.”

Natasha gets out first, drying off while keeping an eye on you in the tub. With your blurry vision from just waking up and the bright lights that line the large mirror behind her, she looks angelic, like she just fell straight from Heaven into your Honeymoon Suite.

As you watch her, you expect large, heavy wings to sprout from her back – eclipse the LED lights and burn your eyes, blinding you for all eternity.

But, if the last thing you ever saw your beautiful wife naked…you wouldn’t mind, all that much, never being able to see her again. This image, now, would be enough.

Luckily, though, you aren’t going blind, and you’re able to see as she pulls her hair into a loose bun before grabbing two large towels and previously discarded robe.

Natasha helps you out of the tub, making you stand as she dries off you off – paying special attention to your center and chest and ass.

“Stop teasing me,” you mumble as she works your way to your spine.

She just smirks. “My dear, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

You just roll your eyes as she wraps up your hair and pulls you into the robe – silent as she carries you bridal style to the large bed where she leaves you, sitting, before going back to the bathroom.

You stay there, positioned with a towel around your body and wrapped in your hair, listening Natasha drain the tub, turn on the faucet, and do other things you don’t have the brain power to listen to.

She returns with your hairbrush and a glass of water, pulling you into her lap facing away from her.

You sip at the cool water as she undoes the towel in your hair, carefully undoing the tangles and leaving occasional light kisses across your exposed shoulders.

“Do you want your hair up or down, babe?” she asks, pulling a hair tie from the end of the brush.

You blush as you respond. “Could you, uh, do those braids I like?”

Natasha just smiles, grabbing a small, opaque, black matte box you hadn’t noticed before.

“Of course,” she says, opening it with a small click and pulling out a few bobby pins. “Of course, I can, my love. I’d do anything you asked of me.”

You sit there, patient as the youngest girl at a sleepover desperate for the acceptance of her older sister’s friends, as she makes two braids and wraps them around your head, letting small tendrils frame your face.

Natasha grabs a small compact from the spot bed where the box was, holding it in front of you to show off her precise work.

You sigh deeply, happily, tucking a bit behind your ear as you admire it. Your wife has beautiful, precise handiwork in all she does, in all she touches – especially when it comes to your hair.

Each morning you’ve had the privilege to wake up next to each other, Natasha had taken the time to do your hair – even if it meant propping you up in your sleep. It was a silent, artful way that she told you that she loved you, an easier way for her to express her feelings without having to voice them directly.

Seeing her to this now, while you’re awake, without the sleep in your eyes or the impending stress of the day…it all nearly brings you to tears.

You turn to face her, pulling her in for a deep kiss. “I love you so much,” you tell her, a few tears falling down your face – the taste of salt spreading on your tongue.

Natasha smiles, waiting to break away until your lungs scream for air and she gives you a moment to grant them the oxygen they desire.

(Sometimes you forget she’s learned how to hold her breath for a simply ridiculous amount of time – great for some things, bad for others).

Once you’re back to breathing like the normal ole civilian you are, Natasha pushes you back into place in her lap, the only thing separating you being the slightly-damp but still-quite-fluffy towel.

With your hair dealt with, though, Natasha makes the decision to pull it off.

You hiss slightly as your skin becomes exposed to the cool air of the spacious suite, pressing yourself further against Natasha’s steadfastly heated skin.

“Oh, baby,” Natasha coos. “Let me warm you up…”

For a minute you think she means she’ll put you in a sweatshirt, but as her hand trails between your breasts and down your stomach you – you understand what she means.

Her fingers spread your folds easily, other hand teasing at your sensitive inner thighs. You moan unabashedly and press your back more firmly against her chest, digging your heels into the bed for purchase as a single finger enters you.

“You’re so pretty when you’re like shit,” Natasha murmurs in your ear, leaving a kiss on the shell of it. You can feel her smile as you tighten momentarily around her fingers. “So beautiful when you let me have all this power over you.”

You swallow the thick lust in your throat, trying to clear path for a coherent answer.

It never comes.

“You looked so beautiful when you walked down the aisle,” Natasha says, pushing another finger inside of you while the hand at your thigh moves to your breasts, just like in the bath. “I didn’t know what to think – whether I should be the sobbing bride to-be or if I should pick you up and find the nearest bathroom and just take you there.”

She crooks her fingers just so, eliciting a deep, guttural moan from you.

“God, and then the reception,” she says into your throat, leaving bruising kisses there. “You looked so happy, and I was so happy, and-“

You grab onto the wrist of the hand that’s driving into you, keeping her close as her free hand palms harder at your tender breasts, groping at them as she continues.

“Then it hit me,” she tells you, bringing you closer and closer to your release as each second passes. “It’s you, you make me happy, my beautiful wife.”

A third is added, coaxing you to release.

“That’s right,” Natasha moans into your ear. “Come for me, my beautiful wife.”

And, God, you do – reaching your peak with a shout, your legs shaking and hands gripping whatever skin you can reach.

Natasha works you through it, fucking her fingers in and out of you in time with the bucking of your hips. Even as your legs shake and you throw yourself against her, she doesn’t let up until you beg for her to cease her actions.

“Are you sure, love?” Natasha coos into your ear. “Are you sure you don’t want me to your peak over and over and over again? You don’t want me to bring you pleasure until you can’t take it anymore?”

You scream something unintelligible – hoping the expensive wallpaper and rich fellow hotel goers can’t hear you as you babble, mind frying as the coil in your abdomen tightens again.

More less more less stop don’t stop please I want you I want everything Natasha I love you I love you Natasha I’ll do anything you want me to Natasha-

Your brain short-circuits as you come once more, vision going to nothing but bright white for what feels like eternity.

Eventually Natasha lets you go, allows you to slump against her as you pant and attempt to regain a foothold in reality.

“Good?” Natasha asks once your eyes have recovered their focus, glaze receding.

You sigh happily. “Very much so.”

“You tired?” she asks.

You shrug, letting out a light yawn. “A little.”

Natasha just laughs. “You too tired for more?”

You shake your head, beaming. “Never.”

She lays you gently onto the bed, and leaves a kiss to the side of your mouth before retrieving her (and your) favorite strap on, putting it on and adjusting it with ease.

It’s average-sized, glossy, and black, showing off Natasha’s expertise. You sigh happily when she comes into view, climbing on top of you with ease.

You’re pliant under her rough hands, allowing her to push your knees to your chest and bend you in half to give her easier access to your pussy, still soaked and desperate from before.

“So wet for me,” Natasha murmurs as she aligns herself with your center. “Always ready for me, aren’t you?”

Your nod is cut short when you slam your head against the pillow, skin on fire as she fucks in and out of you.

Wait, scratch that.

This isn’t fucking, there’s no way something this beautiful can be qualified as something as crude “fucking.” No, no – this is making love; you wife is making love to you.

The realization hits you like a train, wiping your lungs of their capacity and making your blood ring loudly in your ears. It’s enough to make you feel too far from her – from the woman currently on top of you. In a heartbeat it’s like she’s a million miles away and a few lightyears away, and no – that simply will not do.

You tangle your fingers in Natasha’s hair, messy bun long dissolved into a field of her beautiful red hair as you pull at her roots, making her moan as you wrap your legs around her waist to pull her impossibly closer to you. For a second you hope her skin becomes yours and vice versa, soldering you together like two pieces of a sculpture. Maybe then she’ll feel close enough, like she isn’t back in space and saving the world for the thousandth time.

“God, I’m gonna come,” you moan, “Fuck don’t stop! Please, God, don’t fucking stop!”

Natasha smiles as she watches your blissed-out face, reaching between you to rub at the most sensitive part of you, using your slick to rub sharp, tight circles there.

You come with her skin pressed harshly to yours, her murmuring sweet nothings into your hairline as your fingernails nearly draw blood.

Natasha doesn’t stop fucking the strap in and out of you, chasing her own high. She reaches her peak just as the waves of pleasure are subsiding – allowing you clear vision of her cursing out of her breath and screwing her eyes shut and her jaw tensing then going slack.

Just as she never ceases, you continue to fuck yourself on the toy as she grinds her clit into its base, soon making her twitch as it becomes too much for her.

After a minute she stills for just a moment, coming down from the last of her high as you pull her down for a heated, sloppy kiss.

Her lips taste like you and you moan as it hits your tongue, kissing anywhere you can reach as she pulls out of you – leaving you feeling empty.

You’re about to whine but she shushes you with another kiss, silencing you.

“Just a moment, love,” she whispers. “Wait just a moment.”

She hastily lays down next to you, pulling you on top of her effortlessly.

That’s when you begin to understand – being to instinctively grinding down onto her strap as her hands form a death grip on your hips.

“Fuck yeah,” she moans. “Grind down on me just like that.”

You align her with your center once more as you begin to ride her, one hand on the headboard and the other planted in the sheets next to her head.

One hand moves to your ass, digging her nails into the supple flesh while the other goes to your hip – guiding you forward and back.

She watches you closely, watches as your eyes roll back and head falls to the side; watches as your muscles tenses in your stomach and feels it in your back.

“You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” she tells you. “Look so fucking beautiful on top of me, fucking yourself on my cock.”

The hand on your hip moves to brush lightly against your clit, making you nearly scream once more from how oversensitive you are.

“F-fuck, Nat!” You’re almost there, so fucking close, all you need is a little more-

“Stop,” Natasha commands.

Regretfully, caught under the spell that is Natasha fucking Romanoff, you do. You still and you stay there – inert  as you wait for whatever it is she wants you to do that requires you to resist every carnal impulse that’s telling you to keep going don’t stop please don’t stop it feels so good I never want to stop please don’t stop!

Silently, she readjusts, keeping you close to her as she moves, smirking as you gasp when she not-so-subtly “accidentally” bucks her hips.

She pulls you with her as she leans against the lush pillows, folding her hands behind her head as she makes herself comfortable.

You’re confused, almost mad, not understanding what’s going on until Natasha tsks. “Come one, babygirl. Give me a show, won’t you? Don’t you want to give me something good to watch?”

You nod furiously and gulp, suddenly feeling very small and needy as you plant your hands on her sternum, using her for balance once more as you fuck your hips down onto her strap.

You’re still close, so close, and carefully you remove one hand to rub at your clit, desperate to find your high once again as your eyes flit between watching the toy slide in and out of you and watching her intently – determined to commit this moment to memory.

It drives you, nearly makes you choke as your lungs and heart and stomach contract and constrict and your muscles scream for air as they throw you off the proverbial cliff, throwing your head back and clawing at Natasha’s skin once more as you’re lost in an ocean of fire, of electricity that jumps across your skin as you fall to the deep sea below, tumbling and dropping into a vat of the best fucking thing you’ve ever felt into your entire life.

You shake, oh do you shake and bare your teeth and arch your back and think is this what Heaven feels like? Is this what angels all become harpists for? If you fell at the hands of the instrument, could you feel the same way forever?

You scream louder than a banshee as you come, falling on top of Natasha as you do so, panting and sweaty as Natasha leaves kisses wherever she can.

Eventually you roll to the side, allowing her to remove the toy and toss it in the open drawer of the side table to be cleaned and used later as you reach for a $7 bottle of water that had been strategically placed by housekeeping.

You cap it once you’ve downed half of it, placed it back gingerly as Natasha speaks once more.

“Another round, wife?” she asks, smiling ear to ear.

You give her a small laugh before turning over to curl up into her chest, thumbing at your new ring as you speak. You and Natasha had elected not to get engagement rings, and you knew this small act would become a newfound habit of yours.  “Maybe after some rest.”

She smiles, kissing the top of your head as a large menu across the room catches her eye. “And some room service?”

You look up, grinning wickedly. “How about a lot of room service?”

Natasha laughs as she imagines Tony’s face when he gets the bill from the hotel, sighing and rubbing his face and asking one of his robots to make him a drink.

“Oh yeah, a lot of room service.”