#this could be a continuation of the part where they take off their glasses💕

[uvobreakmylegs]

Chosen

basically the Amateur Night section from the movie V/H/S but with more wlw

vampire! Machi x female! reader

💕Happy Valentine's Day💕

Warnings: creepy behavior, allusions to noncon/dubcon, implied death, implied violence, manipulation, mind control

Word count: 5.3k

You wanted to talk to her.

She sat next to you at the table, and you couldn't help the way your eyes would continuously go over to her, taking in different things about her appearance every time you would steal a glance. Her pink hair that was kept up in a ponytail was one of the first things you noted, followed by the pretty shade of blue of her eyes and the pale shade of her lipstick. The dark purple dress she was wearing suited her, though you had to wonder if the high collar of the garment made things uncomfortable given the rather humid air in the bar. Although she seemed comfortable enough, so it must not have been an issue for her.

You really wanted to talk to her.

Unfortunately, the current situation you found yourself in wasn't allowing that to happen. Not very easily.

A hand brushed against your shoulder, and your attention was brought back to the guy who was sitting way closer than you liked, crowding you in so you had no easy way out.

“You sure you don't want a drink?” he asked over the music in the bar.

“I've got a drink,” you answered, smiling as you lifted up the glass that you were careful not to let out of your sight.

“Then how about shots?”

“Nah, no thanks.”

“Aw, don't be boring.”

“I'm good,” you cheerfully reiterated, adding “maybe one of your friends will do it.”

“But I want you to do it.”

You laughed, trying your best to keep your annoyance hidden as he continued to push for you to drink more.

You didn't like this guy at all.

You wouldn't be sitting with him were it not for the fact that he and one of his friends had managed to effectively trap you where you were sitting: the two men came up on either side of the table where you were sitting and asked if the other seats were taken in the same moment that they sat down next to you. Since you had foolishly picked an area where the seats were right up against the wall, you couldn't get out without them moving out of the way.

And it was very clear that the guy sitting next to you didn't intend on leaving you alone.

Despite being in a crowded bar, you didn't feel safe trying to bring attention to your predicament. The conflict-averse part of you felt it was better to try and get out of this without causing a scene, so you smiled and pretended to entertain him while you waited for your opportunity to get away.

You thought you found your opportunity when the one on the other side of you got up to get himself a drink, and you kept the guy next to you distracted as you subtly collected your purse into your lap, ready to make a quick exit.

That was when she showed up.

The duo of men were actually a trio, and their third came sauntering up to the table with her, telling her to take the seat next to you. He tried to place his hand on her lower back but stopped when she gave him a sharp glare that made him back off, holding up his hands in mock surrender while she slid in next to you.

You could've asked her to move – tell that to her and this new guy before they settled in. And surely she would have no issue complying even if it would annoy the two men.

But after taking one look at her, you decided not to.

Instead, you said nothing as she sat down. And after the two of you made eye contact, you smiled and introduced yourself.

She nodded in response before giving you her name – Machi.

You couldn't explain it at all, why you decided to stay. There was something else, something about her that drew you in. What it was exactly you couldn't quite pinpoint; at best all you could say was that she had a certain aura about her that mystified you that part of you wanted to describe as being otherworldly, and that was enough to have you wishing that you could know more.

But so far the only words that the two of you had managed to exchange were your initial greetings, as the two guys that were now blocking both of you in were eager to have you drink your fill while they chatted you up. It looked pretty obvious to you where they were hoping this would go: you and Machi going home with them while being too inebriated to offer much in terms of resistance. That was the sense you got from the way the looked at you two and how the guy next to you – did he say his name was Jeremy? – kept finding reasons to put his hands on you. You felt your skin burning every time he touched you, but you fought the urge to push him away.

That was what you got for going out to a bar alone.

But maybe you and Machi could get out of this together.

You glanced over to her again while Jeremy was talking about something, and you found that she appeared just as disinterested in the man sitting next to her – his name might have been Glen – as she had been when he first herded her over here. Her eyes were still on the drink that he had placed in front of her earlier – that she had yet to even touch – and she wasn't giving him much of a reaction to anything he said. Her responses were generally short.

That didn't seem to dissuade him much, and you glanced over a short while later just in time to see him reaching for her hand.

She turned her head away from you to face him, and you could only assume that she was glaring at him again as he backed off immediately, once more holding his hands up in mock surrender.

Though you couldn't help but notice that the smile that accompanied that gesture seemed a lot more forced now.

That could be bad.

You needed to bring your attention back to Jeremy as you heard him speaking to you again.

“What do you think you'll be doing once you're done here?” he asked you.

“I'm not sure,” you answered.

He grinned as he leaned in closer, saying “we rented a room not far from here. You should come with us; we'll have more drinks.”

Oh fuck no

“I don't know,” you said, “I'm not sure how much more drinking I want to do tonight.”

“You're being boring again.”

“They're both being boring,” Glen chimed in, pointing to Machi's drink as he added “she hasn't touched what I got her at all.”

“I don't like it,” Machi told him.

“Why didn't you tell me earlier?”

“You didn't ask.”

Sensing that his friend was losing his patience, Jeremy cut in.

“You should drink it anyway. It's polite,” he told her.

“See? You're outvoted two to one. You should take a sip,” Glen said.

"No."

At that point, you felt compelled to step in as well.

“I agree with Machi. She doesn't need to drink it if she doesn't want to,” you said.

“Oh, come on! You're not supposed to team up against us,” Jeremy told you in a teasing tone.

“Then you shouldn't be giving us a reason to team up in the first place,” you said. Your tone had been just as light, and the slightly awkward moment ended when the third guy of their friend group (who you had almost managed to completely forget about) came back and Glen handed him Machi's untouched drink. He seemed a bit confused for a second before eventually wandering off with it.

Jeremy had never lost his good spirits, but you couldn't help but notice the way Glen glared at you, and you immediately didn't feel good. You didn't like the thought of staying around him any longer than you needed to.

Machi was quiet again, though the two of you managed to make eye contact again, at which you smiled at her.

She gave you a brief, small nod, seemingly as a way to quietly thank you.

It continued like that, Jeremy becoming subtly but increasingly insistent on you drinking more with him. All you could do was politely laugh it off. Meanwhile there was a one-sided conversation going on between Machi and Glen, who was doing all of the talking while she didn't even make an attempt to pretend to be interested in what he was saying. And then the third guy returned to the table for a brief moment without the drink he'd been handed before, but quickly went back out onto the floor, wandering towards another woman who seemed to be on her own.

You had no clue how long things stayed like this, though the moment felt never-ending.

Jeremy leaned in towards you suddenly, and the way he encroached on your space forced you to back away. Unfortunately, you ended up scooting right up against Machi.

“Ah- sorry,” you said to her.

She shrugged, saying “it's alright.”

Despite the minimal interaction between you two, Glen seemed to get annoyed by it, telling her “you've been talking to her more than you've been talking to me. What's up with that?”

“You haven't been saying anything all that interesting,” Machi told him.

“So that's why you're ignoring me?”

She shrugged.

“Why are you even here if all you're going to do is act like a bitch?” he asked.

“Weren't you the one who dragged me over here?” she asked in response.

He didn't say anything in response to that, but you could tell now that he was getting angry. Even Jeremy seemed worried about where the interaction was going to go, staying quiet while trying to silently tell his friend to stop whatever he was thinking.

You chose then to interject once more, clapping your hands to get everyone's attention.

“Hey! I changed my mind,” you said aloud, turning to Jeremy as you said “I'll do shots as long as everyone else does. Why don't you and your friend go get some for us?”

“…. Uh, yeah, okay.”

Jeremy stood and signaled for Glen to go with him. And after a few seconds, he reluctantly left his seat, walking away with his friend towards the crowded bar to collect the drinks. With them at the bar and the third guy whose name you still didn't know at the other side of the room talking to the same woman you saw him approaching earlier, it was just you and Machi now.

You turned to her as you said “I think he's getting really mad at you.”

She looked over to you before simply replying with a “I noticed.”

“Aren't you worried? What if he tries to do something?” you asked.

“He can try but it won't make much difference.”

“And besides,” she added, “he won't dare to do anything while we're here. Not unless he wants everyone in here to come down on him.”

“But you won't have that safety if he gets you alone,” you pointed out.

“I know.”

If she knew that, then why wasn't she leaving?

Before you were able to say anything along those lines, Machi beat you to it as she said “you should probably head off before they come back.”

Looking back to where the men were standing, she was right that now was a good time to escape. There appeared to be some sort of hold-up at the bar as there were a lot of people clustered around there now; no doubt the poor bartenders were desperately trying to get through all the drink orders quickly to avoid any potential verbal abuse from the patrons who would likely get angry if their order took too long. Jeremy and Glen were still in the same place, both men straining their necks to look over the people in front of them. And the third guy was still talking to that woman, though she was looking increasingly uncomfortable as he leaned in closer to her.

If you wanted to leave without incident, now was your chance.

“Like you said, things could get bad if we end up alone,” Machi added, “I doubt you want to get caught up in that.”

…. She was telling you to leave.

But she'd be staying?

After a moment, you shook your head.

“I don't want to leave yet,” you said.

Machi's gaze narrowed as she looked at you.

“There's no way you're actually interested in either of them,” she said.

“How can you tell?”

“Because I've been feeling the way you cringe every time that one touches you. Unless you like torturing yourself, you have no reason to stay here,” Machi said.

“I have a reason,” you replied.

“And what's that?”

“I don't want to leave you alone with them.”

Machi only raised an eyebrow at you.

You continued, saying “I'm really worried about you now. I don't get why you aren't leaving yourself, but after seeing the way that guy looked at you, I don't feel good at the thought of leaving you alone with him.”

“So you're staying because you're worried about me,” she stated.

You nodded.

She didn't look impressed.

“That's nice of you, I guess, but you should really just leave. Despite how it might look, I can handle those idiots. I don't need someone to look after me,” she told you.

The tone in her voice indicated that she was annoyed with you.

Despite that, you decided to persist, cutting in before she spoke again.

“I'm sorry,” you said, “I'm not trying to annoy you, and I'm definitely not trying to belittle you or anything. I am really worried about what those guys might try to do to you, but that isn't the only reason why I'm staying.”

Machi's expression remained flat as she asked “what's the other reason?”

You ran your fingernail along the side of your glass, leaving marks in the condensation. It was nerve-wracking to try and build up the courage to admit that you were interested in her. After all, she didn't seem impressed with anyone around her; why would she ever be interested in you?

But you might as well shoot your shot, right?

“You seem really interesting and I'd like to get to know you,” you answered.

“Get to know me?” she asked.

“Like a one-on-one over a cup of coffee sometime. Or something else if that's what you'd prefer. Whatever would suit you best.”

You felt the heat building up in your cheeks as you said that and you couldn't make eye contact with her. Just how embarrassed did you look right now?

“….. Oh.”

From the way she said that, it seemed like she understood what you meant, and when you glanced over, you found that she looked a bit surprised at your confession. Machi then looked back to the empty surface of the table in front of her, and you followed suit by turning your gaze to the glass in your hands.

She wasn't upset, was she?

The two of you remained quiet for a few moments within the noisy atmosphere of the bar. The men weren't back yet. Their third was still desperately talking to that poor woman, but the ones who seemed most interested in you and Machi were nowhere to be seen. Though it felt like it was only a matter of time before they came back and you two would be trapped by them again.

In a perfect world, you and Machi would ditch those three and go somewhere else.

It seemed like that might be what ended up happening, as Machi was staying quiet. While she didn't seem as irritated as she had earlier, her reaction didn't necessarily point to anything positive for you.

There wasn't much to be done if she wasn't interested. If that was the case, the best thing you could do was make yourself scarce like she'd been telling you to do.

“I can leave you alone, though,” you said, “I understand if that's what you want.”

You realized after you spoke that your voice had been a bit too quiet in the loud space of the bar and you would likely need to repeat yourself if you wanted to be heard.

But somehow she did hear you as she answered “I don't know now.”

You blinked.

“You don't know?” you asked, confused.

“I don't know if I want you to leave me alone or not.”

“Oh.”

That was a good sign, right? Ah, crap. You'd never felt so flustered around someone else before this.

“I guess it's a bit surprising you'd say that when I've got that one guy hovering around me,” she said.

“I probably wouldn't have if it wasn't for the fact that you really hate him,” you answered.

“I don't hate him; he's not worth hating,” she replied.

“But you don't like him.”

“No.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you said “I really don't understand why you're hanging around these guys. Why?”

She dodged the question, answering with “we're discussing you, remember?”

“You're not even trying to hide the fact that you're avoiding my question,” you said.

“Nope.”

Machi's tapped her fingers on the table as she asked “still want to get to know me?”

“Yeah,” you answered without hesitation.

“You're weird,” she said.

You shrugged.

“I'll take weird. Being weird isn't always that bad,” you said.

“There are things that are worse than being weird,” she agreed, before adding “but I'm not sure why you're so interested in me.”

Probably not a good idea to word-vomit everything you'd been thinking about her. Probably better to say something that made at least a little bit of sense.

“I feel like we might work really well together,” you said.

She hummed.

“Based on what?” Machi asked.

“A hunch.”

It wasn't a great reason, but you couldn't think of anything other than that.

But you noticed the way Machi blinked after you said that.

And then, after a moment, she surprised you when she smiled to herself.

“Did I say something funny?” you asked.

“A little bit."

"Funny in a good way or a bad way?"

"A good way,” Machi answered.

She leaned her head against her hand as she said “I think I'd like to learn more about you, too.”

You felt your heart flutter as she said that and you smiled back at her.

If only that moment wasn't ruined by Glen and Jeremy returning to the table, carrying two small glasses each that were placed down in front of you while they apologized for the hold up. One of those glasses was slid across the surface of the table in front of you, and Jeremy told you to drink up.

Crap. You'd managed to forget how the excuse you'd used to get them away from you. After explicitly asking for drinks, there'd be a bad reaction if you refused them. You glanced over to Machi and found that the pleasant look on her face from earlier was gone, her lips once more set in a small frown. Yet she still picked up the glass that had been given to her. When she noticed you looking at her, she gave you a small nod. So she felt you should drink?

You felt better about it, then. You weren't about to trust Jeremy or his friends, but you could trust Machi.

The alcohol burned as it went down your throat, and the two men laughed at you when you made a face after swallowing it. Some water would've been nice to wash the taste out.

Machi's hand lightly touched your shoulder as she asked if you were alright, and you nodded, making a comment about how you didn't care much for the taste.

Glen seemed to be in a better mood now, which made you feel a bit better. Though with the return of the two men, you were now in the same predicament you'd been in before: unable to leave without causing some sort of issue with them, which by now you definitely didn't want to do. While it was nice to know that Machi was also a little interested in you, you didn't know how the two of you could ditch them. Especially with Machi being weird about her motives. You couldn't even ask about that now with the two of them crowding around you.

Hopefully you could figure something out.

The return to the situation you'd been stuck in for the past half-hour didn't last very long. At the other end of the bar, you heard a woman scream, and like everyone else in the room, your head turned to see the cause of the cry just in time to see a woman slapping that unnamed third guy across the face while yelling some choice words at him.

The two men with you reacted immediately. Glen got up to head to their third's rescue while Jeremy stood and hurriedly told the two of you “we should leave before they kick us out.”

“But we haven't done anything,” you said.

“Yeah, but you're with us,” he answered.

You were ready to argue with him on that point; every part of you was ready to throw him under the bus if just so you could finally get away from them, but Machi stopped you before you could say anything, tapping your shoulder to get your attention.

Looking you in the eye, she said “let's go with him.”

Within an instant all thoughts of arguing with Jeremy went out the window, and you blankly nodded with her suggestion.

There were more raised voices as you got up, and it sounded as though several people were becoming angry and possibly aggressive – you couldn't say for sure, however. You were only focused on the feeling of Machi's hand in yours as the both of you followed the guy out of the bar.

The skin of her palm and fingers felt slightly calloused, you idly thought.

When you snapped back to reality, you and Machi were on the sidewalk standing next to a car. Looking around revealed that Jeremy was heading back to the bar, where it sounded a lot louder now. Had things escalated inside?

All the more reason to leave now.

Turning back towards Machi, whose hand was still in yours, you asked “neither of us like those guys, right?”

She nodded.

“Then why don't we run really fast and get away before they get here?”

“I don't think you can run right now,” she said.

“Then we can walk really fast,” you replied.

Machi smiled a little, but shook her head.

You frowned.

“Did you mean it when you said that you wanted to learn about me?” you asked.

“Yeah, I did,” Machi said.

“Then why-”

“I need to do something first,” she said, “but after I'm done with them, we can ditch them for good.”

You didn't get a chance to ask what she needed them for, because her hand went to cup your cheek and her eyes looked into yours as she spoke again. For some reason, you felt as though you were taking in the information, yet you couldn't hear it. The words were connecting with some part of your subconscious as opposed to your mind; all your brain could focus on was the touch of her skin on yours, the pretty shade of blue of her eyes and the color of her lipstick.

Things that didn't involve Machi were hard to make out now. Your vision was fuzzy and it felt like you had cotton stuffed into your ears, the voices of other people that were also leaving the bar being hard to make out.

But every time Machi spoke, you could hear her clearly. Like when you were ushered into a car by the three men – when did they come back? – and you vaguely felt a hand on your back that shoved you across the seat, you heard her voice loud and clear as she firmly said “don't hit her.”

There was a car ride. Where the men were situated in the car you had no idea. But Machi sat next to you in the back seat, between you and one of the men. Sitting up began to feel strenuous, and you ended up with your cheek resting on her shoulder.

Her hand was still on your arm, reassuring you with soft touches, and you felt better.

By the time the car trip ended, you were having difficulty standing, and Machi needed to help you up the stairs of what appeared to be the upper level of a cheap motel. With the area being relatively quiet, you could hear now that the men were laughing, though their conversations were harder to make out.

The scenery changed again, and now you were inside a poorly lit motel room equipped with two beds that, under normal circumstances, you wouldn't want to even touch. But you didn't protest when Machi led you to one of them and laid you down on top of it, the scratchy bed cover not enough to keep you from the sleep that was now forcing you to close your eyes.

One of the men took issue with that, and you had enough awareness to know when he slapped you across the face. Yet that didn't manage to rouse you.

It felt like whoever had slapped you was about to do it again only to be abruptly stopped.

And then you heard her speak once more before blacking out completely.

“I said don't hit her.”

You didn't recognize the bedroom you woke up in.

After opening your eyes and blearily looking about the room for a few moments, that realization had you sitting upright, looking over yourself while trying to recall your last memory.

Your clothes were still on, so that was a good sign. But when it came to remembering everything that had happened, it became a little more spotty.

You'd been out at a bar. By yourself, which was a dumb move on your part since you attracted a trio of pests. Then you met Machi. You two managed to talk and it seemed like she might like you at least a little. And then you both were outside of the bar at some point.

After that….. Nothing.

You had no memory of what had happened after, where you'd gone from there or how you ended up in a darkened bedroom that seemed slightly cluttered. It was clearly morning, though, if the bits of light coming through the small spaces of the blinds were to be believed.

Where was Machi?

You only needed to look to the side of the bed that you hadn't checked to learn the answer to that. She lay next to you, facing away so all you really saw was messy pink hair sticking out from beneath the covers. But you must have made enough noise when you woke up because she turned towards you moments later, sitting up as well as she said “hey.”

“Hey,” you answered.

“Are you feeling alright?” she asked.

“Yeah, I think,” you said.

“I've got painkillers if you need any,” Machi said.

You didn't answer at first, distracted by the sight of her with her hair down, though you eventually remembered to reply as you said “I'm okay, but thanks.”

You sounded a bit distant, and she seemed to pick up on that.

“Something wrong?” she asked.

“Ah, I guess I'm just a little weirded out that I don't remember much of what happened last night,” you admitted.

“Maybe you drank too much.”

You didn't feel like that was the case, but you couldn't think of anything else. Or maybe it had something to do with the alcohol those guys had gotten for you.

Oh, right. Those three.

“What happened to those guys?” you asked her.

“They were at that motel last I saw,” Machi answered.

“But we're not at the motel.”

“No, this is my place.”

“But how did we end up here?” you asked.

“They were barely in a better state than you,” she said, “I slipped out with you once I saw a good opportunity.”

“Oh. Okay.”

They must have been more shitfaced than you realized. Didn't you get into a car with one of them driving? That was a bit more scary to think about, what might have happened if they were really that inebriated.

Luckily you were here now.

Then you added “thanks for taking me with you. I hope it wasn't too much trouble to drag me around with you.”

“It wasn't. But if you feel bad, you can make it up to me by having that one-on-one conversation you want over breakfast,” she said.

“Sounds good to me.”

With that, both of you were prompted to leave the bed, and as Machi made her way towards the bedroom door, instinct had you pulling the covers back over once you were standing, wanting to have the bed looking somewhat presentable at the very least.

Didn't you end up on a different bed at first last night?

You paused as bits and pieces came back to mind. An uncomfortable bed with an equally uncomfortable sheets. Raised voices. A scuffle.

Blood.

… When did that happen?

Machi called out to you, and you turned to her.

“Did you get hurt last night?” you asked.

“No.”

Her tone was nonchalant.

You questioned her again as you asked “did I get hurt?”

“No.”

“…. That's weird.”

“What is?”

“I feel like I remember seeing a lot of blood at one point,” you said.

Spattered across the floor and dripping down the walls, almost everything in sight coated in red. Even you – you could feel it sticking to the exposed parts of your skin, on your face, and you accidentally got a taste when you ran your tongue over your lips. It didn't feel good, and the smell in the air was overwhelming, like the particles were clogging up your nose. You made a move to get up from the bed you were laying on, wanting to leave.

Someone set their sights on you as soon as you did that.

“You didn't see any blood last night; you probably just had a nightmare,” Machi told you.

Ah. That made sense. After all, you'd looked over yourself when you woke up, and you would've noticed if there had been any blood on you. But it was just a nightmare, so it was better not to dwell on it.

That was such a weird thing to dream about, though.

You were walking towards her when another thought came to mind, that question that she'd avoided answering.

“Hey, you never told me what it was you wanted from those three. Why did you need to go with them?” you asked.

Machi waited until you had reached her, and this time she held out her hand to cup your cheek, her blue eyes staring directly into yours.

Blue eyes stared down at you from where you lay on the bed, a hand resting lightly on your chest as she pushed you back down. There was a groaning coming from behind her on the second bed, and if you were able to tear your gaze away from her, you might have seen the figures that were sprawled across it.

But you were too focused on everything about her: her hand traveling up to stroke your hair, the pretty shade of blue of her eyes and the deep red color that now covered her lips and dripped down from her mouth.

“It isn't important, so don't ask about it again,” Machi told you.

Within a moment, all of those thoughts were locked away into the deepest recesses of your mind, willed to never surface for as long as possible. You smiled at her as you cheerfully told her “okay!”

There was warmth in your heart when you saw that soft smile of hers once more.

[rosieofcorona]

In the Blue Morning

Sharing this gentle little fic here again since the Solavellan girlies (genderless) are so back!!! In my mind I am sliding this across the table to you all. Also on Ao3, if you prefer. As always, thank you for reading! 💕

She cajoles him, some mornings, away from his office, from his maps and his books and his paintings and out among the newly-planted gardens, all their tight, unfurling blooms. 

It’s always empty at this hour, when most of Skyhold is still asleep, save for the guards in their high towers, the recruits in the practice yard. The only sound is the clang of their swords through the mist like distant bells, the only light the pink and gold of the nascent sun.

They have been careful, desperately careful not to draw undue attention, not to generate rumors that could harm the Inquisition in the future. It is easier on the road to find a quiet moment alone– to steal a kiss or hold a hand or put words to their love– but the castle, however safe, is full of eyes, forever watching.

It is only in the narrow, muted hours before dawn that Solas weaves his fingers with hers as they orbit the courtyard, side by side.

He names the blossoms as they pass, first in the trade tongue and then in Elvish, the softened syllables like music on his tongue. She repeats them half as gracefully, but he smiles at every attempt, correcting her gently now and again, praising her efforts.

“Gail’lealis,” he says, pointing out an elegant bellflower, its blue-white petals bundled tightly in green sepals.

It sounds off, even to her ear, when she says, “ Ga’lealis,” back.

They pause for a moment, and Solas turns and bends and plucks an early bloom from the same plant, rotating it slowly between his fingers, holding it up for examination. 

“Ga-il,” he repeats softly, separating the sounds. “Meaning ‘bell,’ in the common parlance.” 

“Ga-il,” she says again, correctly this time. 

“Followed by lealis , meaning ‘glass.’”

“Gail’lealis.”

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, tucking the flower behind her ear, the meaning vague yet all-encompassing. It is all beautiful– the morning, the garden, how she catches the light, his ancient language in her mouth, her mouth– 

Solas kisses her in the empty courtyard, parts her lips with a linguist’s tongue, and she kisses him back again and again as if each time might be the last. He wants to stay like this forever, wants the sun to forget to rise, wants the castle to sleep and sleep in an endless dream.

But the light keeps coming, every moment. The castle will wake, and they will see. 

And this will cost them, in the end. 

She is pink as the sky when they finally come apart, and continue their long walk around. 

“I hear you were out here yesterday,” she says, breaking the silence as they turn a corner. “Cullen says you beat him soundly at chess.” 

“It was a closer game than he thinks,” Solas says, but she has learned when he’s just being modest.

“Must not have been that close, because Bull says the same. As do Blackwall, and Varric, and Dorian, though he swears that you cheated.”  “I did no such thing!” 

When they turn again, the chessboard in question comes into full view, set and waiting on its table beneath an awning. 

“He seemed very certain,” she shrugs. “Though I suppose I could find out for myself.”

They stop again before the table, and Solas looks at her intently.  “Is that a challenge, dear Inquisitor?”

“That depends on your level of skill.”

She’s teasing him now, enticing him, a dynamic he’s come to enjoy. There are so few who impress him with thoughtfulness, who make him work at being clever.

“Very well, but you should know that I am merciless,” he warns, a contradiction to the chivalry of pulling out her chair. “Even to one I love.”

He takes the seat opposite her, the board and the pieces adorned in glittering dew. 

“I believe the Lady Inquisitor moves first.”

He sets a dozen little traps for her, a dozen clever gambits, and she evades them every time, to his astonishment. Where he moves to attack, she counters; where he baits her, she defends or retreats. By the end, with the sun fully risen overhead, they reach a deadlock, both depleted, neither victorious.

“Again?” She asks cheerfully, when they’ve finished. Already she is freeing her captives from his end of the table. “Don’t look so stunned, my love. Unless you’re trying to offend me.”

“Forgive me, vhenan,” he says, shaking his head. “You surprise me as always. It is rare to find an opponent so…discerning.” 

His beloved laughs with the morning breeze, a sound like air that surrounds and envelops him. 

“Rare to find one you can’t beat, you mean.” 

She’s right, of course– it is rare that he loses, even rarer that he plays against someone so evenly matched. He still can’t quite puzzle through it, where he went wrong, where she figured him out. 

He had gotten a lead on her early on, or so he thought– he had taken a tower, a mage, and two pawns– and left his queen open for the taking, which she had entirely ignored. She caught onto him quickly, though too late to win, and when she realized she couldn’t beat him, she had blocked him instead. 

Solas leans thoughtfully back in his chair, replaying their game in his mind. No matter how he tries to beat her, he finds no way through. She sees his scheming, sees him coming, cuts him off. 

“Why did you not take my queen, given the chance?”

“Because you gave me the chance,” she reasons. “You wouldn’t do that except to win.” 

“It could have been a tactical error.”  “It wasn’t,” she says assuredly, resetting the pieces along their battle lines. “If I had taken her, it would have left my king undefended from your mages.”  “You could have moved him.”  “For a turn or two. Then your knight would have circled back. Isn’t that right?” She looks up at Solas, her eyes smiling and sharp, affirmed in her answer already. “Or shall we call that a ‘tactical error?’”

“Mm,” Solas nods his approval. “You’ve become quite the strategist. Have you been spending time with our Commander?”

“I’ve been spending time with you,” she counters. “Learning all your little tricks.”

Not all, it occurs to him, but Solas smothers the thought with a laugh. “It seems to me you have a few of your own.” 

“Our Keeper used to call me harellan,” she tells him. “Trickster. Though I needn’t explain that to you.”

He fights to keep the easy expression on his face, feeling suddenly caught in the snare of her gaze, as if she sees directly through him, sees him fully, all he is.

Harellan, his mind echoes. How could she know?

The wait for her judgment feels infinite, inevitable– but it does not come, and does not come, and does not come. She only moves a white pawn toward the board’s center, the leaves rustling softly around them. 

No, he decides. She does not know. She only means he knows the word. 

Solas mirrors her opening move, their pawns face to face on the battlefield. “And still, your Keeper named you her First.” 

“I was more troublesome as a child,” she says, with a grin that implies that the mischief has never left her. “I’ve settled down a great deal since. Can’t you tell?”

This time, when Solas laughs, there is nothing else hiding beneath it. No uneasy feeling, no great fear that she will discover him, cast him out. There is only happiness for a moment, the war reduced to a board between them, as if sorrow and death are nowhere, and the end of the world is far away.

[of-dragonss]

Can I please ask for a fem!reader with Rain (from Ghost) where he comforts, cuddles, engulfs her on a bad day? Today's not the best day for me and I could really need a little comfort and there's nothing more helpful to me then being crushed in a BIG, LONG hug and Rain seems like the perfect person to do that 💕

Thank you so much 😊

im sorry you feel bad :[ hope you feel better! here’s a soft rain drabble!

☽ ༚  ༵ ۰ ✧ ۰  ༵ ༚ ༵ ۰ ✧ ۰  ༵ 

— rain ghoul x female reader

summary: rain cheers you up with some cuddles

the smell of petrichor.

☽ ༚  ༵ ۰ ✧ ۰  ༵ ༚ ༵ ۰ ✧ ۰  ༵ 

Ghouls have always been very perceptive creatures. By smell alone they know how someone is feeling at that current moment. Recently you haven’t been feeling the best mentally. The days seem to drag on and all you seem to want to do is curl up in your bed and sleep.

You’ve always struggled with mental health. Some days were better than others but sometimes when the bustling of your fellow siblings of the abbey was too much and overstimulating you opted to hide in a secluded spot in the library or the your bedroom in the dorm building.

Rain took notice, so did the other ghouls but they left you alone for the most part, knowing you needed some space to clear your head and sort out your feelings. Yet three ghoulettes were often seen around you, escorting you away, bringing you food and snacks. Reminding you to drink plenty of water and so on.

But not today, as you were hidden away in the library, trying to catch up on some readings. Yet you couldn’t focus. Spacing out between sentences, staring off into the distance until you tried to force yourself to continue reading. It was no use of course.

With a sigh you closed the book in your hands, sitting up right and packing your think into you satchel. A loud roar of thunder startled you, stopping you in your tracks. Peeking outside the window, the sky was more darkened by the storm clouds than they were when you first entered the library an hour ago. Rain now hit the glass harshly.

Frustratingly rubbing your eyes with the palms of your hands you sunk lower in your chair. Great, now you were stuck in the library for who knows how long. You really wanted to hide away in your room for a while. No one seemed to be in the library, not even the four sisters who work at the front desk.

They were prepared for the storm, it looks like. Unlike you. Who just wanted to be curled up in your blankets and sleep away any sadness you had left. Now you were sitting in the silence of the old library with nothing but your thoughts to torment you.

Until the sound of the door opening startled you once more from your pitiful state on the cushioned chair.

“Y/n?” The sound of Rains timid voice echoed from the walls. “I noticed you weren’t in your room and I wanted me to go look for you.” Ever so considerate of the water ghoul, a small smile appeared on your face. The sound of his footsteps got closer until he rounded the corner into your little hideaway. Mask still on his head, the top of his shirt damp from the rain outside.

“I know you aren’t okay, is there anything I can do?” He asked when he got closer, kneeling down in front of you, head tilted to the side.

“Hold me?” Was all you could muster. And with no hesitation, Rain scooped you up in his arms and held you close to his chest. The wetness of his shirt didn’t bother you as you nuzzled into his neck taking in his natural scent of petrichor. Not too far from what it must smell like outside at this moment.

“You can sleep if you want, I won’t wake you.” He mumbled into your hair, kissing you on tour hairline. Mumbling a barely audible ‘Thank you’ you made yourself comfortable on his lap, thankful you dragged the comfiest chair into your little spot in the library. Not long after Rain started purring, the rumble in his chest lulling you into a peaceful slumber, held safely to his chest with you arms wrapped around his middle.

[e-dubbc11]

Snowstorm Shenanigans

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: Some swearing, alluding to smexy time, all the fluff you could ever ask for, unicorns and fluffy bunnies PG-13 for the most part, mentions of Billy’s scars

Word Count: 7.5k-ish (there’s a lot going on, more characters, I’m sorry it’s a little long)

Summary: Billy takes you away for the weekend, invites your friends to come along, has elaborate plans for you but the snowstorm is throwing a wrench into his plan.

A/N: They’re baaaaaack! Frank and Ginger have come along for the ride on this one. If you’re new to the world of these two, you can read how they first started getting on each others nerves in Happy Birthday part ONE and TWO, and how they continued to drive each other nuts in GAME ON. This is also part of a writing challenge that my lovelies from the Thirsty For Cox server decided to do for the month of December, the prompt was Snowed In. I hope you enjoy this and check out everyone else’s also.

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

“Where are we going, Billy?” You asked your boyfriend as you sat in the passenger’s seat of the car, staring at his handsome profile, and Billy grinning from ear to ear.

“It’s a surprise, sweet girl. It will be fun though. Frank and Maria are coming and I invited Ginger and her boyfriend to come too.” He said, adjusting the heat in the car while you turned to look out the window as flurries fell from the sky.

All the signs you passed on the highway said he was headed north, and earlier in the week he told you to pack warm winter clothes but also pack the new dress he bought for you because he was taking you to a very nice dinner on Saturday. Obviously, he was taking you away for the weekend but there was something different about this getaway, Billy didn’t normally invite others to come along, he always loved having you all to himself, so what was he up to?

“You invited everyone to come along? You’re up to something Mr. Russo, I know it.” You said with narrow eyes and a straight expression.

He glanced at you with a sly smile and said “It’s gonna be a good weekend, baby. I promise, and they’re not comin’ until tomorrow so we have the place to ourselves tonight.” Keeping his eyes on the road, Billy brought your hand up to his lips to kiss it and there was a rush of warmth through your entire body.

“Do you wanna place a bet on how many arguments Frank and Ginger are going to get into?” You started to laugh and he did too, it was definitely going to be an interesting weekend with those two involved.

After riding in the car for a handful of hours, you saw the sign on the side of the highway—Welcome to Vermont, The Green Mountain State. The snow falling was a little heavier now and the scenery was absolutely beautiful, even on the highway. Blankets of white covered the tree tops on either side of you, the soft glow of the moon which was just starting to rise up over the trees, bounced off of the freshly fallen snow which shined brightly like little diamonds sprinkled everywhere as far as the eye could see.

You slowly turned from the car window to look at your boyfriend, he was glancing down every so often at the GPS on his phone, carefully making sure he was going the right way. The man spoiled you every chance he had, always taking you away to some of the most beautiful places in the world but he hardly ever took the time to look around because he was too busy looking at you.

The St. Regis in Bora Bora was gorgeous, your own little private hut on the clearest bluest water you’ve ever seen, glass windows on the floor so you could see the fish swimming underneath you. Your jaw dropped to the floor at how beautiful it all was and every time you told him to look at something or “did you see that?” He always responded the same way while gazing at you “I’ll see it later, sweet girl.”

Or the time he took you away to Lake Tahoe, the mountains, the hot springs, all of it was breathtaking. You both turned your phones off for the entire week and he wanted nothing more than to just see your reaction to the scenery around you.

Every morning, Billy would watch you drink your coffee out on the deck. You were looking out at the snow covered mountains and breathing in the crisp clean air, you could feel he was there and after watching you for a few minutes, he would join you outside. “Hey there, handsome. It’s beautiful out here isn’t it?”

Billy wrapped his free hand around your waist, he pulled you in close, kissed you on the top of your head, still only looking at you and he said “Yes it is.”

“You’re not even looking, Billy.” You said with a smile.

He leaned down to kiss you and whispered in your ear. “Yes I am.”

You would just roll your eyes at him, smile, and kiss him back, you loved him so much.

************************************************

“I love you.” You told him, gently brushing his beard with your fingers. If he wasn’t driving, he would have turned to look at you.

Keeping his eyes on the road but stealing a quick glance, he responded “I love you too, baby. I love you too.”

The exit he took said Dover and he kept driving until he pulled up to a timber frame contemporary cabin, surrounded by trees. It was very private and extremely beautiful and you couldn’t wait to get out and look around.

Billy parked the car, you bit down on your bottom lip as you unclipped your seatbelt with a glow of excitement in your eyes.

“Go on, my love. I know you wanna go look around. I’ve got the bags.” He said with a warm smile.

You put on your winter hat and gloves then took off to explore the outside of the house. Looking up, you saw the wrap around deck that was attached to the back of the house, there was a path that led down to the fire pit and overlooked a stream.

You couldn’t believe you were going to be staying here for the next three days. The hot tub faced the woods, the two of you would make good use of that later and you walked around the entire house one more time before walking up the back steps onto the deck.

Billy was standing at the kitchen counter, his back towards you and you could see he was holding something but you couldn’t see what it was. You tapped lightly on the glass, he put whatever it was in his jacket pocket and walked towards the door to let you in.

“Well? What did you find out there, beautiful?” He asked.

You started to untie your snow boots. “Billy, this place is gorgeous! I found the path that leads down to the fire pit and the stream, it’s so beautiful.” You finally got both boots off and set them by the door. “And then I found the hot tub, I thought maybe we could—“

Cutting you off mid-sentence, he pulled you in close and brushed his thumb against your cheek, which was a little cold and flushed from being outside. His rich dark eyes looked down at you before pressing his lips firmly against yours, they tasted a little like coffee with just a hint of sugar and he started to unzip your jacket.

“Billy Russo, we JUST got here!” You said, playfully pushing him away from you. “Can I look around inside before you attack me with your lips again?” You asked.

Billy rolled his eyes and in a joking manner, he said “Ok, but look fast because I can’t promise I can stay away from you for too long.” He said with a wink.

Starting in the kitchen, the counter tops were marble, there was a breakfast bar in the middle and all of the appliances were stainless steel. The dining room off of the kitchen had a large wooden table with a chandelier overhead. The main living area had soaring cathedral ceilings, beautiful natural woodwork, a stone gas fireplace and natural wood floors.

The master bedroom was upstairs and two more bedrooms were downstairs. There was also another common room area with a double queen bunk bed. Both living areas had tvs and plenty of board games.

You stopped in the doorway of the master bedroom, Billy had already put all of your bags inside and you felt him sneak up behind you. He snaked his arms around your waist from behind and started kissing your neck. Oh god, you loved it when he did that. You closed your eyes and just let it happen, he peppered kisses up and down the sides of your neck as your coat dropped to the floor.

Turning to face him, his eyes weren’t focused on anything else but you. “Billy, you’re staring at me like you haven’t seen me in a week.” You said to him with a slight smile.

He gently pulled at the hem of your sweater. “It was a long car ride, baby.”

You knew that look of his very well, even though he kept his hand on you basically the entire ride, it wasn’t enough for Billy. He needed you, what he had said a few minutes ago was true, he couldn’t be away from you for too long because he knew that as quickly as he got something, it could be taken from him just as fast.

No matter how many times you reassured him you weren’t going anywhere, that you loved him, and wanted to be with him always, he kept you close and tight to his chest. You were everything to him.

“I know, handsome…I know.” You whispered in his ear and nervously touched the fabric of his thermal Henley shirt.

Billy’s gaze roamed over your body from head to toe, he studied you. He was always doing that, watching as to where your hands would touch him next. You thought it might be a reflex action leftover from being in the Marines, anticipating the enemy’s next move and even though you weren’t the enemy, his guesses were never wrong.

He always predicted your every move, it was hard to surprise him but you still tried to. Your hands moved from just below his chest to the hem of his dark green shirt, you went to pull it off but he beat you to it.

In one quick motion, his shirt was off and he made the sweater you were wearing disappear just as fast, revealing the silk camisole you had on underneath.

His lips collided with yours after watching your sweater fall at your feet and he parted your lips with his tongue, taking your breath away. He eagerly walked you backwards towards the bed, before climbing on top of you as your head gently hit the pillow.

His greedy hands slipped underneath the camisole so he could brush the soft skin on your stomach with his fingers, causing goosebumps to pepper across your body like it was the first time he’s ever touched you.

His caress did that to you every time whether he was being gentle with soft sweet kisses or ravaging your body like lion after a fresh kill, leaving love bites all over to remind you that you were his, you loved them both equally as much.

Before he kissed you again, you glanced at his scars, it was hard not to. Every time you did, you felt a little twinge in your heart, the dull pain in your chest always came back.

The two long scars on his shoulder from where his rotator cuff was torn, for some reason looked like they still caused him pain and considering how old they were, you thought they might have faded more than they have.

Billy was breathing heavily as you extended your arm to gently trace the two prominent scars on his shoulder with your fingers, he looked away when you did but still, he let you do it.

You said his name softly. “Billy?”

“Yes, sweet girl?” He tried to smile a little when he turned to answer you.

You looked up at him and peeked again at his scars. “Do they—?” You paused. “Do they still hurt?” You asked.

Billy slowly closed the gap between you, his handsome face inches away from you, his muscular body pressed firmly into yours, and the affection in his eyes eased the pain you felt for him.

With one of your legs wrapped around his thigh, you closed your eyes as he rested his forehead against yours, wishing with all your heart you could take all of his pain away, all of his suffering but he surprised you once again with his answer. “Not anymore, my love. Not anymore.” He said with a smile as he covered your body with his, concentrating on you and only you, silently thinking about what he had planned for this weekend, hoping…you would say yes.

*************************************************

Billy wasn’t next to you when you opened your eyes the next morning, he was so light on his feet that you never heard him leave the room or even close the door behind him. You must have been sleeping hard, between the hot tub and the wine, no wonder you passed right out last night.

When you opened the bedroom door, the aroma of coffee floated in the air and you could hear Billy in the kitchen doing something so you put your sweater on and made your way to where he was. He was putting away groceries, he must have had them delivered as he was still in his sweatpants and t-shirt.

“Good morning, beautiful. Sleep well?” He asked with his head peeking around the fridge door.

“Good morning, handsome. Yes I did.” You said as you walked towards him, biting down on your bottom lip and checking him out from head to toe.

Billy closed the door to the fridge and leaned forward to give you a kiss. “Coffee?” He asked.

“Yes please.” You answered and he handed you a mug of coffee just the way you like it.

“The others will be here in a few hours. Frankie called me a little while ago, Ginger is already making him nuts singing along to every song that comes on the radio.” You and Billy both started to laugh. “Ginger’s in the passenger’s seat, Frankie and Maria are in the back seat so she’s controlling the music.”

Trying to control your laughter, you said “I didn’t know they were all riding together, I can just see Frank leaping out of a moving car to get away from her. There might be three people in the car when they get here, not four. Could you hear her singing?”

Billy took a sip of his coffee. “Oh yep, I could definitely hear her. It was hard not to. 80’s hair metal, I believe.” He said with a sly grin.

Stepping outside on to the deck, you looked up at the overcast sky. The clouds were a bright silver color, the air was frigid and dry, and you could sense that it was going to snow. Wrapped up in your sweater, you took a sip of your coffee when Billy came up behind you and kissed you on the temple.

“It smells like snow.” You said softly with a smile.

Billy looked up at the sky. “It smells like snow? What do ya mean it smells like snow?” He asked with a slight chuckle.

“Exactly what I said, Billy. It smells like it’s gonna snow. Did you look at the forecast?” You asked him. “I’m usually not wrong about these things.” You let out a little laugh.

He gave you a concerned look. “Well no, I didn’t check it but—“ Billy took out his phone, opened his weather app and all of a sudden you watched all of the color drain from his face.

“Shit.” Billy gnashed his teeth, then tightly pressed his lips together and shook his head.

Well that can’t be good.

“This says the area is supposed to get between 2-3 FEET of snow starting early tomorrow morning, all day and into the evening.” He said angrily. “We’re all supposed to go out to dinner tomorrow night and we can’t do that with that much snow on the ground.”

You didn’t understand why Billy was so upset, the snow sounded so romantic and fun but you knew your boyfriend, and he was irritated that his plans were on the verge of being ruined so you tried to diffuse the situation. “Well maybe you can change the reservation from tomorrow night to tonight?”

His expression softened. “That’s a good idea, baby. I’ll be right back.” And he went inside to make a phone call. Why couldn’t he just do it out here, you wondered? There was always a method to Billy’s madness and you couldn’t tell him otherwise so you just left it alone.

He returned to the deck even more flustered than he was before and started pacing back and forth. “I can’t change it, they’re all booked up for tonight and they even said more than likely they won’t be open tomorrow.”

“Ok, then we’ll just have dinner here, Billy. We’ll get take out tonight and save the food you bought for tomorrow. It will be great.” You gently touched his shoulders to reassure him it was alright but he just leaned up against the railing and stayed silent, you weren’t even sure he was listening to you. “Well I’m going to go get ready for the day before everyone gets here, you comin’, handsome?”

Billy tried to smile but you could tell he was furious. “Yeah, I’ll be in in a minute, love.”

Once Billy got angry, it was very difficult to snap him out of it. He completely shut down when things don’t go as planned so walking away was sometimes your best option, you knew he’d get over it—at least you hoped he would.

*************************************************

After readying yourself for the day, you prepared drinks and little bites to eat for your guests, they should be arriving any minute. It was a little before noon when you thought you heard a car door close outside. You weren’t positive until you heard the familiar sounds of Frank and Ginger giving each other a hard time.

Looking down from the window in the front of the house, you heard Frank first. “Ya know Ginger, if you didn’t have such a tiny bladder, we could have been here an hour ago.”

“You’re the one who wanted to all ride together, Frank. So if you think about it, this is all your fault. We could have taken separate cars and you wouldn’t have had to deal with my tiny bladder…or my singing.”

You couldn’t stop giggling at your friends taking playful jabs at each other. Frank and Ginger’s friendship has been love/hate from the start. Ginger tortured Frank with karaoke at your birthday party a few years ago, then there was the time you put them on the same team for a friendly game of laser tag. They’re both very competitive and it was amusing to watch their banter back and forth.

They continued to argue about Ginger’s bladder all the way up the stairs, to the front door. Frank was just about to knock on the door when Ginger hip checked him out of the way and walked through the doorway without knocking.

Maria and Ginger’s boyfriend just acted like that was an ordinary occurrence for the two of them—because it was. They both just threw their hands in the air and just went with the flow.

You ran up to Ginger to give her a hug. “You guys made it!”

“You should have knocked first, Ginger.” Frank said. “Y/n and Bill could have been in a—compromising position.” Frank was grinning ear to ear when he said that.

“Yeah that’s a New Year’s Eve I’ll never forget. My retinas will never be the same.” Ginger laughed.

You could feel your ears and your cheeks start to turn red and you covered your eyes in embarrassment remembering the time you and Billy were caught in the act during a New Year’s Eve party.

Your sparkly black dress hiked up over your hips, while Billy had you pinned against the wall, buried to the hilt, and you not realizing how loud the sinful noises were that Billy was drawing out of you. Or how hard you were hitting the wall behind you until it was too late. Busted. Well at least it made for a good story, you thought.

You cleared your throat. “Ooook if y’all are finished, there’s wine on the counter, glasses are there too. If anyone wants beer, it’s in the fridge and snacks are on the table. I’m going to get Billy, I’ll be right back.”

You called out for him. “Billy?” You found him in the bedroom. “Hey handsome. Everyone’s here, you comin’ out?”

You could tell he was still angry but he tried to put on a happy face for you.

“Yeah, my love. I’ll be out in a second ok?”

You moved closer to him and kissed him on the cheek, his beard tickled your lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too, beautiful.” He winked at you.

From downstairs, you heard Ginger yell out “BUNK BEDS?!!! This place is amazing!”

That made you smile but on the other hand, you were worried about Billy. Why was he so upset about not being able to change the reservation? You knew he wanted to take everyone out for dinner tomorrow night but if you couldn’t go, you couldn’t go. What’s the big deal?

***************************************************

You, Maria, and Ginger filled your afternoon with some shopping at the little boutiques in town and left the men to do whatever they do when they’re left alone with each other which was basically hang out by the fire pit with a couple beers.

Ginger held a black sweater up to your chest. “You should definitely buy this, it’s super cute. What’s the matter, why do you have that look on your face?” She asked.

“Hmmm? Oh, it’s nothing.” You said.

“Nothing my ass. Tell me—tell us. MARIA!! We need you!” Ginger shouted across the quiet boutique and waved her hand for Maria to come over.

“Ok, so this morning when I was outside, I told Billy that it smells like it’s going to snow. He looked at me like I was crazy but then when he looked at the forecast, it said they’re expecting 2-3 feet between early tomorrow morning and tomorrow night. And he got really angry, goin’ on about not being able to go out to dinner tomorrow night if there’s that much snow, it ruined what he had planned, etc., etc.” You explained to them.

A smile crept across Ginger’s face. “We’re getting that much snow?! I saw the snowmobiles outside of the garage, this is gonna be fun!”

“I’ve known Billy for a long time, y/n. And he’s very meticulous in his planning, it’s the marine in him, there’s always a purpose. I think he just wants everyone to have a good time, that’s all.” Maria said, and glancing over at Ginger as if they were silently communicating to each other about something but you ignored it.

“He planned this weekend for all of us and I just want him to enjoy himself too, ya know?” You said to them.

“Should I pick some more fights with Frank? That always seems to make him smile. I saw the Pictionary game in the living room, things could get ugly.” Ginger said with excitement.

Maria started laughing. “I’m sure you’ll do that anyway, Ginger. I thoroughly enjoy you messing with my husband. He openly hates it but I’m convinced he secretly loves it.”

You all started to laugh and suddenly you were very grateful to have them with you.

Around the Fire Pit

Billy, Frank, and Ginger’s boyfriend Chris sat around the crackling fire, drinking beer and talking when Frank asked Billy. “So do you have it on you, Bill?”

Confused, Billy tilted his head to look Frank. “Have what on me, Frankie?” He took a sip of his beer.

“The ring, Bill. Do you have the ring on you? I mean, that’s why you asked all of us to come up here, yeah? You’re gonna ask y/n to marry you.” Frank said with a wicked grin.

“How did you…?” Billy turned to Chris. “Did you know too?!!”

Chris couldn’t do anything except shrug his shoulders and say “Ginger has a hard time keeping secrets.”

“I know you have it on you, Bill. Let’s see it.” Frank reached for Billy’s jacket pocket.

Billy swatted Frank’s hand away. “Alright, alright. Ok, yes I have it with me.” He reached into his jacket pocket and when he took it out again, his long slender fingers were wrapped around a navy blue leather box with the letters HW printed on the top.

Billy opened each side of the box to reveal the ring inside.

“Holy shit, Bill. That’s beautiful.” Frank said with a surprised tone to his voice.

Billy smiled. “You think she’ll like it? Ginger and Maria helped me pick it out. I didn’t know there were so many styles.” He said, glancing down at the ring. “I just hope she says yes.”

“She will, Bill. She loves you, lord knows why.” Frank said with a laugh as he patted his friend on the shoulder.

Billy shook his head while smiling a little. “I can’t believe the girls told you, I told them it was a secret and NOT to tell you guys yet. I asked them for ONE thing!”

Frank and Chris’s reaction was just to laugh at Billy’s disappointment in the girls’ inability to keep his secret.

“Ginger just texted and said they’re at some place called North Star Pizza and they’re bringing home dinner.” Chris said.

“So what’s the deal, Bill? Why were you so salty when we first got here?” Frank asked.

“I wasn’t salty, Frankie.” Billy said.

Frank started to laugh. “You think I don’t know when you’re in a mood? Now what’s the problem?”

Billy started to explain to Frank what the plan was for the proposal but since it’s supposed to snow tomorrow, the restaurant is going to be closed and he wouldn’t be able to do what he wanted to do.

“Well, we can do all of that here. You told us to bring nice clothes so that’s what we’ll do. We’ll all get dressed up like we were going to but we’ll just have a fancy dinner here and you can propose with all of us around just like you would have done at the restaurant, yeah?” Frank said.

Even though his original plan was scrapped, Billy was starting to feel better about the new one his friend came up with.

Chris chimed in. “So I still have to wear the tie, don’t I.”

The three of them started to laugh.

**************************************************

So Friday night was filled with pizza and Pictionary.

Frank and Ginger were on opposite teams, but it still didn’t stop them from heckling each other while the other was drawing.

“That doesn’t look like any movie title I’ve ever seen before, Frank. Maria is never going to guess what that is. Your drawing skills are atrocious!” Ginger joked.

Frank just kept angrily pointing at what he was drawing on the paper and Maria was shrugging her shoulders and trying to not laugh. “I don’t know what that is, Frank!”

“Time’s up!” You yelled out.

Ginger wasn’t finished messing with Frank. “What the hell was that supposed to be anyway?”

With a furrowed brow and his lips pressed firmly together, Frank threw the marker down on to the table and said “Top Gun, it’s supposed to be Top Gun! That’s a plane!”

Everyone erupted in laughter.

“Frankie, that’s the worst drawing of a plane I’ve ever seen. I’m pretty sure Frank Jr. could draw better than that.” Billy laughed, taking the last sip of his drink.

Ginger had a hard time recovering from her laughter. “Hey Billy, don’t let Frank quit his day job, ok?”

You got up from the couch and headed towards the kitchen for more wine but you didn’t notice that Billy got up to follow you and when you turned around to see him standing there, it scared you half to death.

“Jeez Billy!! You scared me!” You yelled, clutching your chest.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He said.

Billy hated to disappoint you in any way and he knew you weren’t very happy with the way he reacted earlier. You weren’t angry with him but he didn’t have to react the way that he did, there was something bothering him but you couldn’t figure out what it was.

“Can I talk to you for a minute, y/n?” The look in his eyes was very remorseful.

He was constantly trying to be better at communicating to you how he felt and you never made excuses for him to yourself or to anyone else. You helped him as much as you could and listened whenever he wanted to talk.

Billy has told you more about his life than he’s told anyone else with the exception of probably Frank, no one else has ever shown Billy love, patience, or kindness. All he’s ever known was abandonment, the feeling of being unwanted, and anger. Things were a lot better now, definitely not perfect but better.

“Of course, handsome.” You gave him an inviting smile and rested the wine bottle on the counter.

As soon as you put the wine bottle down, he laced his fingers with yours and pulled you into his chest. The heat from his body warmed your torso and soon the warmth was everywhere.

“I’m sorry for the way I reacted earlier. I wanted to take everyone out for a nice dinner tomorrow, and now I can’t—it’s just—I“ Billy was visibly flustered again, only because he was having a hard time expressing his feelings. “I just wanted everyone to have a nice time this weekend.”

Keeping your arms wrapped around his waist, you pulled back slightly to look up at him. If “sorry” was a face, it would be Billy’s at that very moment. Your expression softened and you brushed his lips with your thumb.

“Billy, you were just in the same room as I was. Do you hear that laughter in there right now? Everyone IS having a nice time. This house is gorgeous, and so romantic. You invited our friends to share a weekend away with us, it’s amazing and I can’t thank you enough for doing this. We have plenty of food, wine, beer, anything we could ever want is here so it really is ok that we’re staying in tomorrow night.”

His stare dropped from your face to the floor and back up again, he nodded. His endless dark eyes looking at you with a love that will never be duplicated, you were THE ONE for Billy. No one else will ever have his heart.

***************************************************

When your eyes fluttered open the next morning, you remembered it was supposed to start snowing very early that morning so you jumped onto the bed to look out the window. Freshly fallen snow covered the property and the tree tops, there had to have been at least a foot out there already. It was coming down fast.

Billy didn’t sleep much so again, he wasn’t next to you when you woke up, so he must be in the kitchen. When you opened the bedroom door, you saw him sitting at the breakfast bar with his coffee next to him just staring off into the woods, watching the snow fall. He looked…relaxed.

“You know you can’t sneak up on me, my love.” Billy said turning his head slightly, you could see his million dollar smile. “I’ll get you some coffee.”

You rested your hand on his arm, stopping him from getting up. “No, no baby, I’ll get it. Just sit and relax.” You noticed no one else was up yet as you walked over to the coffee maker. “You see anything good out there besides the fresh snow?” You asked him, pouring your coffee into a mug.

“I saw a couple of cardinals at the bird feeder.” He said. “You don’t get to see this stuff living in the city, it’s beautiful.”

You stood in front of him so his eyes were level with yours and leaned in to kiss him, his lips had a slight hazelnut taste to them and his rich brown hair was all over the place. “Good morning, handsome. No one else is up yet, huh?” You said, sweeping the hair away from his eyes.

“They had a long day yesterday, baby. I’ll start breakfast.” He kissed you again and gave you a wink.

You heard one of the bedroom doors open downstairs and Chris’s voice came sailing up the stairs. “Ginger, I’m pretty sure you were arguing with Frank in your sleep last night!”

You and Billy looked at each other and just started to laugh.

***************************************************

After getting dressed, you walked out into the kitchen and found Frank, Billy and Chris hovering over a piece of paper, a pen in Billy’s hand, and a bunch of whispering going on.

“I don’t know if I like the looks of this…what are you three up to?” You asked, pointing at them suspiciously.

Before any of them could answer, Ginger finished climbing the stairs and said. “They’re being very secretive, aren’t they? I think we should be worried…what if they’re planning our demise? Or if they’re trying to figure out a way to cheat by finding a quicker route to the liquor store.”

Very confused, you looked at Ginger and asked “Ok, what are you talking about?”

Full of excitement, Ginger explained that the liquor store has to be open, one is always open during a snowstorm, and they did pass one on the way up yesterday. So she made a bet with Frank last night that she could get there on the snowmobile quicker than he could.

All you could do was shake your head and cover your eyes with your hand but you were dying to see it.

“Ok, first of all…I need to be a part of this race. Second, do I get to see what’s on this piece of paper?” You asked.

Maria walked up the stairs as Frank started to say “None of you get to know what’s on this piece of paper. This is the menu for tonight’s dinner.”

“I hope you boys know where the fire extinguishers are.” Maria said with a chuckle.

***************************************************

The race on the snowmobiles to the liquor store was very close, you rode with Ginger and Maria rode with Frank. And although it was close, Ginger did manage to squeak out the win and she was right, the liquor store was open. Frank bought some nice champagne for later although you’ve never seen Frank drink champagne ever…maybe it was Maria that wanted it.

Ginger was never going to let Frank live it down that she beat him in a race, she would definitely get a lot of mileage out of it and Frank looked completely defeated when Billy asked who won.

As the snow continued to come down, the rest of the afternoon was filled with laughter, more games, good conversations, a snowball fight, and playful banter. It seemed like everyone was having such a good time which made Billy happy and made you happy to see him that way.

After a game of chess between Frank and Billy, you walked over to the couch to sit on Billy’s lap. You pulled him close for a kiss, it was passionate and you nipped his lower lip with your teeth. The only reason you pulled away was because Ginger made you laugh.

“You guys aren’t gonna start making animal noises, are you?” She asked.

“Today was fun.” You whispered to him while raking your fingers through his hair.

He smiled at you, it was a nervous smile although Billy doesn’t usually get nervous. “Well, it’s not over yet baby.”

“What are you up to, Mr. Russo?” You asked him.

He kissed you one more time. “I just think you’re really going to enjoy dinner tonight.”

“I’m sure I will, handsome.” You said with a slight smile.

**************************************************

With Billy hard at work in the kitchen with Frank and Chris, you were getting ready for dinner with Ginger and Maria. You were sitting on the floor, close to the mirror, putting your makeup on.

“It’s so sweet of them to cook for all of us.” You said.

Maria laughed a little. “Well obviously Frank isn’t helping very much because it smells delicious out there and nothing is on fire.”

You laughed and nearly messed up your eyeliner.

As you continued to do your makeup, you thought about your entire relationship with Billy. Flashbacks of your birthday party popped into your head, when he told you he had feelings for you, the skull tie he wore just for you. The Harry Winston diamond earrings he gave you that night, or rather Frank gave you from him, laser tag with your friends, the getaways, and cozy nights at home.

It wasn’t all good times though, you and Billy had your fair share of arguments. He wasn’t perfect, but you weren’t either. He was learning how to be an actual boyfriend and you were helping him with that process while trying to be understanding at the same time. It wasn’t easy but you loved him and did your best to show him that every day.

You thought you saw Maria give Ginger another look of silent communication. What is going on?

“Are we ready?” You asked.

Ginger clapped her hands together and pumped her fists. “Let’s do this!” She said.

Whatever they were cooking did smell wonderful, as you got closer to the top of the stairs, the aroma got stronger. You could smell the fresh garlic, herbs, and spices and there was definitely bacon involved.

Frank greeted the three of you at the top of the stairs with glasses of wine and escorted you into the living area where the fire was going, there were hors d’oeuvres on the coffee table, and the lights were dimmed to a soft glow. You could see the snow falling at a rapid pace from the windows, as you peeked outside, the snow looked so beautiful and perfectly untouched.

Frank started to point to the appetizers on the table and in a confused tone, he called out into the kitchen. “Hey Chris, what are these things called again!!?”

“Those are artichoke phyllo cups and on the other plate are rosemary veal meatballs.” You heard him yell from the kitchen.

“Uh yeah, what he said. They’re good, I swiped a couple before you guys came upstairs. I’m starvin’ and Bill swatted my hand away when I tried to taste one.” Frank said.

The three of you started to laugh.

“You look very handsome tonight, baby.” Maria told Frank.

He blushed a little. “Thank you, sweetheart. You look amazing as always…you all do. Even you Ginger.”

Collectively, you all let out a big “AWWWWW!!!” And scared a flustered Frank back into the kitchen causing the three of you to laugh uncontrollably.

Back in the kitchen, they were putting the finishing touches on dinner when Frank said to Billy “You look nervous, Bill.”

Billy tried to brush it off. “I don’t get nervous, Frankie.”

“You do when it comes to y/n.” Frank said. “Remember how nervous you were to tell her that you liked her, or when you wanted to ask her to move in with you? You absolutely get nervous when it comes to her. You really, really love her, don’t you.”

“More than anything, but what if she says no, Frankie?” Billy asked.

At the same time, Chris and Frank said “She’s not going to say no.”

“She’s going to be surprised but she’s not going to say no.” Frank said. “She looks beautiful tonight, Bill.”

Billy smiled. “I can’t wait to see her.”

***************************************************

Dinner was delicious. There was a wedge salad to start, filet mignon wrapped in bacon (you knew there was bacon involved), scalloped potatoes, asparagus, along with plenty of red wine.

“I made those potatoes.” Frank said with confidence, pointing at the dish.

Maria smiled at her husband. “And you did a very good job with them, baby. If Frank knows how to make anything, it’s potatoes.”

Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. Ginger brought up the time you all played laser tag together. “…And they wouldn’t even let me wear my night vision goggles!”

Maria could not stop laughing. “I’m sorry I missed this!”

And through all the conversations and the laughter, Billy couldn’t take his eyes off of you, his hand resting on top of yours while the other grazed your knee. Your chair pulled as close as possible to his so he could touch you, breathe in the scent of your perfume, and kiss you whenever he wanted to.

All of you were enjoying your coffee and dessert in the living area by the fire, when Ginger said “Hey, ya know we never finished our Pictionary game last night—it was Billy and y/n’s turn.”

The large drawing pad was off to the side of the fireplace, it was Billy’s turn to draw and Maria handed him a folded blank sheet of paper, he already had a plan for what he was going to draw. Ready to guess, you sat on the edge of the couch and waited for him to start drawing.

Frank turned the timer over. “GO!!”

Billy started to draw. He first drew a circle, with what looked like a diamond on top, little lines above the diamond to make it look like it was shining.

You shouted out. “My Best Friend’s Wedding!! Father of the Bride!! My Big Fat Greek Wedding!”

He started to draw something else. “Billy, those are words. You can’t write out words. What are you doing?”

First word. Will

Staring at him confused, he wrote out the second word. You

You looked around at everyone, they were grinning from ear to ear.

Third word. Marry

Finally you realized what was going on.

Last word. Me?

With your knees shaking, you stood up from the couch as you watched Billy drop to one knee and produce a box from his jacket pocket. Was this really happening? He had opened the box but you couldn’t take your eyes off of his.

“Will you marry me, y/n?” He asked.

Tears had flooded your eyes and there weren’t any words or sounds coming from your mouth. You couldn’t speak, only a gasp when you finally looked at the ring, it was a cushion cut diamond surrounded by smaller stones and diamonds around the entire band. It was the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen.

Taking your hand away from your mouth, you were finally able to answer him. “YES! Yes Billy, I will marry you!”

He slid the ring on your finger, stood up and pulled you in for a kiss. “I love you…so much.”

“I love you too, baby.” You said with a hitch in your voice.

He looked at you like you were the only other person in the room. “Do you like it?”

Looking closely at your ring, you were practically speechless. “Billy—I—I love it! It’s beautiful! Oh my god, it’s huge!”

“That’s what she said!” Ginger shouted.

Frank rolled his eyes and tried to contain his laughter. “Real mature, Ginger. You ruined the moment.”

“I didn’t ruin anything, Frank. Look at them. Look how happy they are!” Ginger said pointing at you and wiping a tear away from her cheek. “I got the best picture too!”

Amidst all of the commotion from everyone, Billy leaned down to kiss you again and you tuned out everyone else for a minute to ask him “Are you really ready for me to be Mrs. Russo?”

He just looked at you with his beautiful brown eyes, smiled and said “I’ve never been more ready for anything, sweet girl.”

A light bulb went off in your head and you inhaled sharply. “THAT’S why you were so mad about the snow! You wanted to do this at the restaurant.”

Billy simply nodded and shrugged his shoulders.

“Honestly, Billy…” You stopped and pointed to everyone around the room. “I like this much better, just us and our friends, no strangers.” You said softly as you cupped his cheek and pulled him towards you for another gentle kiss.

You looked around at everyone, they were talking and laughing with each other. You had your best friend here and Billy had his, and this was the perfect way to spend a snowed-in weekend.

It was with the people you loved, people that made you smile, that made you laugh—that made him laugh. It always made you happy when Billy laughed because he deserved to.

He held you close against his chest, kissed your forehead and as you closed your eyes to enjoy the moment, you heard Ginger say “You know what this means, right Frank?”

With a furrowed brow and a confused look on his face, Frank said “What does it mean, Ginger?”

Rubbing her hands together, she said with a wicked smile. “We get to walk down the aisle together at their wedding! Isn’t that exciting?!! I was thinking maybe we could do some sort of choreographed dance. I have plenty of ideas, we’ll figure it out.”

All eyes were on Frank pinching the bridge of his nose and his eyes were shut, Maria was trying not to laugh while the rest of you waited for his response.

Frank just pointed at Billy and said “Well…it better be open bar.”

Tag List: @saintmurd0ck @wheresthesunshinesblog @rafaelakelley @idaoftheburningmind @snowkestrel @xdervyxccgh @mattmurdocksscars @fakehappy27 @music-indie-tv @fictional-hooman @kayhi808 @gijos

TFC Ladies: @mindidjarin @munsonownsmyass @skvatnavle @phoebe-danvers @itwasthereaminuteago @pedrito-friskito (I hope it’s ok I tagged everyone)

If you’d like to be added to (or removed from) my tag list for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕

[awkward-walking-potato]

Little Dove Pt2

Loki X Reader: Rockstar AU

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4  

My promo was Rockstar AU and Dangerous woman by Ariana grande, I wrote this for @caplansteverogers writing challenge 

Summary: You’re at the height of your career and you were becoming one of the best pop singer in America but what happens when your path crosses with a certain Rockstar.

Warnings - 

Y/N - your name, Y/L/N- your last names

Please leave feedback - 🥔💕

There was a moment when he spoke those eight words that would change your life forever: "Well, aren’t you just the prettiest little dove?"

"Now, Loki, don’t start your games with her. She won’t be your next plaything." You jumped as two hands settled on your shoulders. "Come on, Y/N, you need to get ready for your performance."

As the Grandmaster led you away from the table, you couldn't help but glance back. Loki already had a girl on his lap, kissing his neck, but his eyes were locked on you.

"You see, this is why we have the no-talking rule. You’ll get caught up with people like that. I gave those three everything, Y/N. Showed them my best drummer, Bruce, and how do they repay me? They take him and start up some silly Ragnarok band."

You kept your head down as the Grandmaster rambled, not wanting to provoke him further. He gripped your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. "You’re my greatest champion, Y/N, and I’m going to make sure they never get their hands on you."

The Grandmaster always spoke in grandiose terms, as if you were his warrior. It was probably strange how protective he was, but you assumed it was because you made him the most money. He didn't want any other record labels poaching you.

Thoughts swirled in your head as you were pulled towards the stage. Your performances were never extravagant—just you, a microphone, and a spotlight. The Grandmaster insisted it should be that way, with nothing to distract from your voice.

So here you were, standing in the center of the stage, singing a love song that held no meaning for you. You had never experienced love as the songs described it—exciting, transformative, pushing you to be a better version of yourself.

By the end of the song, your eyes had wandered to Ragnarok’s table. They laughed and drank, indifferent to anyone’s judgment. Loki wasn’t joining in; he seemed mesmerized by your voice. People said you had a voice like an angel, and it seemed they were right. You could make a room go silent and capture all eyes.

Even after you left the stage, Loki’s gaze lingered where you had stood moments before.

As usual, the Grandmaster decided you’d had enough fun and asked a security guard to escort you to a private room in the back.

"Hi, my name’s Korg. I’m one of the security guards here. I heard you singing. I tried to be a singer once, but I didn’t print enough pamphlets for my concert, so only my mum and her boyfriend, who I hate, showed up."

Korg's rambling was oddly comforting. Most guards never even made eye contact, let alone talked to you. The conversation continued even after you got to the room, took off your heels, and settled on the couch. It only stopped when the door opened and Loki walked in, holding a bottle and two glasses.

"Korg, my old buddy, I’m glad to see you. Still living with your mother? That’s great. Could you leave us alone for a minute? I saw a vending machine down the hall. Maybe get my little dove something to eat. I’m sure she’s hungry."

Loki didn’t give Korg time to respond, just placed the bottle and glasses on the table, handed Korg some notes, and said, "Keep the change." Korg glanced at you nervously before leaving.

"Join me for a drink, Dove." Loki sat next to you on the couch, pouring two glasses of an almost red liquid and holding one out to you.

"Oh, um, I’ve never drank before, and I’m sure the Grandmaster wouldn’t be happy if I did, especially with you." Shaking your head, you pushed the glass away.

"Come on, Dove. One drink won’t hurt. Maybe I’ll even show you some other things you’ve never done before."

[nerevar-quote-and-star]

I Didn't Know You Were Keeping Count — Part VI: Salmon

ao3

masterlist

first | previous | next

This one is a long one by I PROMISE we get through Blackreach. Thank you, @elder-dragon-reposes, for betaing! 💕✨

Taglist: @ravenmind2001 @incorrectskyrimquotes @uwuthrad @dark-brohood @owl-screeches @binaominagata @dakatmew @constantfyre

@kurakumi @stormbeyondreality

@blktooth @singleteapot @aardvark-123 @blossom-adventures @hungryswampdweller @argisthebulwark @inkysqueed @average-crazy-fangirl

Content Warnings: No. Bishop is Bishop.

#######

The first creature showed up after they found the second corpse and the broken ramp. Thin, hunched over, and as pale as moonlight, it had eyes – or rather, eye sockets so red and scarred over that they were a mockery of real eyes. Its face was long, narrow, and framed with long ears attuned to the underground caverns and passages. Slanted nostrils sat high on their face, slits in puckered pink skin where noses should be. They looked like elves – if someone asked a child to draw an elf without any reference. These creatures were blind, but words of their danger were written in a jagged script that stretched back to the entrance of Alftand. These white creatures killed an expedition of trained professionals. If Leara and Bishop weren’t careful, they would be killed, too.

Bishop shot the first one, Leara’s spell work concealing the twang of his bowstring.

The creatures began popping up frequently after that.

“Just let me shoot them down,” Bishop hissed. He and Leara were huddled in an alcove encased in the protection of a bubbling Muffle spell. Karnwyr stood between them, his hackles raised and his teeth bared. It seemed the wolf didn’t like the blind creatures any more than his master did.

“If we start killing them, they’ll know we’re here,” Leara explained. “We have no idea how many there are, but if they could take out that expedition, then I’m not inclined to take any chances.”

“Size never stopped you before,” Bishop leered, wagging his eyebrows.

Leara pinched her nose. “Be practical for a moment, won’t you? We have a better chance of sneaking through than we do of taking on an unknown number of these creatures! Do you want to die down here?” she asked bluntly. “Do you want Karnwyr to die? For all Akatosh knows, they would eat him! They might eat us!”

“Now, now, sweetness, don’t get all hysterical on me!” Bishop said, rolling his eyes and placing a hand on her arm. “Fine, we’ll do things your way, but follow my lead. You can’t sneak worth a septim, especially in that silver plate. Let’s go.”

And so, they snuck their way through the ruin. Leara’s hands were frozen and her moonstone ring bit into her finger from the quantities of magicka she pooled into a continuous Muffle. She held a Nighteye rune over her eyes, searching out corners for movement as Bishop crept by them unseeing. Karnwyr glued himself to her side, his body stiff and his head low as he scented the cracked stone floors. He was agitated. She didn’t blame him.

Only once did Leara cast a life detection spell. Where she expected to find whirling clouds of violet smoke, she instead found plumes of pink, pale and quivering with the erratic beats of each creature’s heart. Every one of the creatures had a soul weaker than even Karnwyr’s, and each was bursting with a gnashing, swarming darkness. The chill permeating from the creatures’ souls was unlike any Leara had ever felt either from magic or nature. Although she couldn’t discern the dim memories or chaotic thoughts hidden in the souls, she could sense the discord and pain rolling off them in waves. She endured this for a moment before recoiling, the life detection rune shattering over her eyes like broken glass.

Bishop didn’t notice her jerk back from the sting and she didn’t mention it. They continued in the dark.

At one point Bishop caught her arm, and she whirled to face him. At some point he’d fallen behind her. Leara hadn’t noticed.

“What is it?” she whispered.

“We need to stop.”

“What?”

“We need to stop. You’re dragging your feet,” Bishop said. He almost sounded concerned, save for the sneer she could hear in his voice. “If we don’t stop, you’re going to stumble right into one of those creatures and all your plans about sneaking through undetected are gonna go out the window.”

Akatosh, Leara wished there was a window and sunlight and a breeze down here. “You’re right,” she heard herself say. The words were as dull on her tongue as the exhaustion seeping into her bones.

How long had they been under the earth?

There was no apartment or defensible room where they could make camp, but Bishop found a tunnel branching off the main corridor. There must have been a cave-in at some point as one end of the hall was blocked off. Overhead, a lone Dwemer light fixture flickered, its light fractured and damaged. Under the grey light, Bishop plopped down against one of the larger boulders, his eyes trained back the way they came. “Get some shuteye, sweetness. I’ll keep watch.”

Leara blinked at Bishop. Part of her wondered what made him decide to be so nice, but the rest of her was too tired to care. Using her satchel as a pillow, Leara didn’t bother setting her bedroll out. She fell asleep with her back to the wall and her face toward the corridor beyond. Karnwyr curled against her legs, providing a barrier of warmth from the subterranean chill.

Her dreams were hazy with smoke. Shadows at war with flames. Black wings beat against a starless sky as they clawed at their golden adversary. She stood alone, the crash of the battle above both deafening and devoid of sound. Then a hand grabbed hers, burning and scorching and eating away at her skin and bone.

Thunder cracked overhead.

Leara startled awake.

Silence.

For several moments, she tried to calm her breathing. Her entire body was on edge, cold and shaking in the aftershocks of her dream. Nightmare?

Was that Alduin?

A snore rattled nearby, shaking Leara from her thoughts. Already the dream was fading into a dim haze and all she could recall were black wings and scolding fire. It was about Alduin, she decided. Blasted World-Eater.

Wait. Was Bishop asleep—? Idiot! The bloody idiot!

Springing to her feet, Leara stormed over to where the ranger sat propped against the rubble, snoring away as if he were cuddled up in his own bed and not in the depths of a dwarven ruin surrounded by creatures that would eat him for dinner.

She kicked him in the leg. “Wake up, you sodding blockhead,” she hissed near his ear.

Bishop coughed. Then yawned, his eyes blinking. “Well, hello gorgeous,” he slurred, voice dull with sleep. He rubbed his face, then frowned at Leara, “Hey, when’d you put all that armor on?”

“I never took it off,” Leara bit out. “Get up. We need to keep moving.”

Grumbling about her silver plate and unfinished dreams, Bishop got himself together and the trio was off again a few minutes later.

Before leaving the tunnel, Leara drew a tempus charm on the back of her hand. It was after the third watch. People in decent places were still asleep. But this wasn’t a decent place, she reminded herself as she ran a quick calculation. “Sixty-three hours.”

“What?” Bishop said as he checked over his bow.

“We’ve been down here for sixty-three hours,” she clarified, dismissing the charm.

“Damn.”

Leara sniffed, “Quite.”

·•★•·

Leara winced as the spikes grated against the stone, the sharp shriek of their retraction resonating through the cavern. At once, Karnwyr hunkered down on the floor. Covering his muzzle with his paws, he let out a soft whine.

“And you told me to be quiet!” Bishop snorted.

Leara ignored him. She made her way from the lever platform, stepping through the now-open gate to the wide stairs beyond. Her steps were silent under bubbling Illusion magic as she crept up the dais that dominated the center of the cavern. Bishop grumbled a moan before stomping after her. It had been a while since she’d seen any of the creatures, but Leara knew that didn’t mean none were nearby. If they were, it was almost certain they heard the spikes retracting. Akatosh, she wouldn’t be surprised if Delphine and Esbern heard it all the way back at Sky Haven Temple.

That gave her pause. Did they even miss her? She imagined Esbern did, at least as much as one missed a person they saw briefly after more than thirty years of no contact. The thought soured and sank down into her stomach, leaving a bitter taste in the back of her throat. She needed to contact them soon, even if Delphine acted like a bloody, blasted piece of—

Bishop grunted, his chest colliding with Leara’s gauntlet. “What—”

“Shh!”

A finger to her lips, Leara pointed with her off-hand. The stairs split, both leading to a wide dais, larger than many of the areas they’d passed through before. On either side of the space were large stations of some kind, but it was the contents that caught Leara’s attention.

Dwemer automatons. Huge and golden, they were like armored sentinels – Leara was certain they were bigger than the giants outside of Whiterun – charged with keeping watch over the tower entrance beyond. But one had fallen, whether taken down by some previous explorer, the creatures in the ruin, or by the sands of time, Leara didn’t know. It was the one that remained, the silent guard gazing blindly forward that set her on edge. It seemed the Dwemer had a special knack for getting under her skin. Almost as well as Bishop but far more dangerous.

“What in Oblivion is that?” hissed Bishop. Despite Leara’s look of warning, he crested the stairs to get a closer look. “That’s gotta be the biggest one I’ve ever seen!”

Under a bronzed helmet, a cold facsimile of an elven face turned toward them. Steam hissed and sputtered as the automaton released from its station. It took a lumbering step forward, then another, its feet thundering against the stone in billows of rising steam.

“Bloody Hell!” Leara swore. She sprinted over to the fallen machine, as far from its living counterpart as possible.

The distant twang of Bishop’s bowstring hummed under the pounding steps and hiss of steam. A clatter of steel on bronze. The arrow fell.

Karnwyr barked, loud and echoing through the cavern.

Leara’s knees hit the stone floor. Crouching behind the fallen automaton, she peered over its armored chest. Bishop was nowhere to be seen, but Karnwyr was still barking at the machine. The wolf was running hither-thither in wide circles around it, drawing it to turn in awkward arcs in an attempt to keep up. Leara chewed her lip.

A cloud of dense steam wailed from the automaton's mouth, fathering like smoke after Karnwyr. Karnwyr only just avoided the scalding heat, leaping clear into Leara’s hiding place. He hunkered behind her, his dark eyes blown so wide that she could see the whites of them. He was shaking.

The armored giant stalked near their hiding spot. Leara held her breath as it passed them by, unseeing.

Where in the name of Akatosh and the Divines was Bishop? She could only assume he’d fallen back to a blind spot on the landing below.

From her vantage point, Leara noticed a crack along the side of the fallen machine’s chest cavity. She waited until its counterpart was on the other side of the dais before she slipped her hand inside. She was unsure what she’d find, but if the smaller machines ran off soul gems, then these things surely—

Oil?

Oh! The machine was full of oil!

An idea sprung to life in her mind. A dumb, dangerous sort of idea.

Oil stained her bare forefinger as she traced runes across the chest plate of the fallen machine. Under the distant glow of the dwarven lights, the black stood dark and deep against the dull golden finish of the automaton’s armor.

Then Leara led Karnwyr across the dais to the shadows cast by the surrounding towers. Once there, she threw a rock back at the fallen automaton.

It clattered loud and clear against the bronze haul. Its living twin turned from its search near the stair to investigate. Leara held her breath as it thundered toward her trap. And then it was standing over the broken machine, blindly searching.

Flames pooled across her palm, kissing her skin. Leara hurled the spell.

At the swish of flying fire, the automaton turned its helmet. In that instant, the flames connected with the oily runes crisscrossing the broken machine.

Blinding white. A loud boom! resounded throughout the cavern. Her eyes squeezed shut, Leara covered Karnwyr’s face with her cloak as a wave of intense heat rolled toward them. In defense, she held an icy ward around them, depending on the old Cyrodilic dome style to shield them on all sides. She spared only half a thought to Bishop as the inferno died down in the melted ruins of the two Dwemer machines. If he was as smart as he claimed to be, he’d have found a good hiding place.

Once the strain against her ward was gone, Leara released it and stepped out of hiding.

“What in the thrice-damned HELL was THAT?!”

Ah. There he was.

Bishop stalked toward her, none the worse for wear, though his face was a little red and his eyes were bloodshot. No different than any time she’d seen him get drunk in a tavern.

“I defeated the automaton,” Leara replied coolly. “Where were you?”

Bishop grumbled.

“Pardon?”

“I said,” he groused, “I was trying to rig that mounted bow back there to fire.”

“I see. And did it?”

Bishop rolled his eyes. “Does it look like it did?” Shaking his head, his ruffled hair untouched by the explosion, Bishop jabbed his thumb at the towers. “I guess that’s the way?”

“They had to be guarding something,” Leara reasoned.

The towers were foreboding pillars within the twilight of the cavern, A tall stair led straight to a promenade high overhead. Casting one last look at the destroyed machines, Leara moved quietly up the stairs, Karnwyr beside her and Bishop behind. The stairs were long, and the promenade was longer. It connected the trio of towers together with a wide walk. For a moment, Leara wondered what the Dwemer did here, what it was like for them to actually live in Alftand, and what the city ruins looked like when they did. She could almost imagine it: stone polished like gleaming marble as elven figures in olive and citrine walked by, their dark beards plaited with golden fastenings, Automatons lumbered behind them, passive under the hands of their masters. The air was filled with a distant humming, dreamlike; it resounded deep in her soul, striking notes she had no sheet music for.

Then the image was gone. Leara tasted ash on her tongue.

A golden gate barred the way into the largest tower. Peering between the bars at the empty room beyond, Leara pushed at the door. It swung softly open, soundless in the resounding hush that followed Leara’s explosive spell work. As if the stones themselves were holding their breath. Waiting.

A feeling of unease churned in Leara’s stomach. She pressed forward.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Bishop said, coming to walk beside her.

A grim line set across Leara’s mouth. She did, too. What could be worse than that dwarven automaton?

The corridor led from the tower gate to a room, divided on either side by tall bronze paneling. Through the doorway, Leara spied what might be an altar, but knowing of the Dwemer’s infamous disdain for religion, she somewhat doubted that it could be an altar. A shadow fell across the not-altar, and Leara froze,

Bishop was stiff at her shoulder, his pale eyes squinting against the dim light. “That’s not one of those machines.”

“No, it’s not,” Leara shook her head. “It’s—” Wait. “Is that – the expedition?”

Creeping closer, Leara heard the whisper of low voices, tones full of anger though their volumes were low. It seemed their fear of the creatures in the dark was stronger than their anger toward each other. For now.

Leara pressed herself against the archway leading into the not-altar room. The sanctum?

“Sulla, let's just get out of here. Hasn't there been enough death?”

Peering into the sanctum, Leara spied a tired Redguard woman in tattered clothes, a bloody shield as her only protection. She stood across from a short, stocky man with a legionnaire’s cropped hair and wild eyes. He was gripping the altar, his knuckles white as he loomed over in the face of his one remaining companion.

“Oh, of course, you want me to leave!” Sulla hissed. “Just waiting for me to turn my back so you can have all the glory for yourself!"

The woman growled, a low mixture of rage and exhaustion. “No, Sulla! I want to go home! Have you forgotten what that is? Haven’t we been through enough?”

Sulla slammed his palms against the not-altar. “Umana, you blasted fool! I’ve come too far and lost too much for you to just lead me back to Cyrodiil like a child!”

“Sulla—"

"No! Blackreach was to be my discovery! Mine!"

In a blur, Sulla leaped at Umana, a dark dagger in his hand. It might have been one of the creatures’, made of purplish black chitin. Umana raised her shield. It was pronged with a cluster of spikes, bursting forward to meet Sulla’s hand and ravage his forearm. The man howled. And then gargled as an arrow pierced through his throat. Huddled behind her shield, Umana gaped wide-eyed at her former companion as he crumpled to the floor, choking up blood. “Is someone there?”

Leara spun around as Bishop released the second arrow. She didn’t have to see it land to know it struck the woman. The low gasp and soft thud of a falling body told her enough.

“What,” the Dragonborn grit out, “was that?”

Bishop lowered his bow, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. “That was putting two animals out of their misery.”

By Akatosh. “Those were people! People from the expedition!”

Bishop rolled his eyes at her. “They were two deranged animals in the middle of a fight, sweetness, and if you’d been caught between them, they would have attacked you, just like any wild animal.” He patted her shoulder as he went by. “Now c’mon. You were so eager to get through here earlier, weren’t you?”

Her hands clenched into frozen fists at her sides, Leara stalked after Bishop. She spared the two fallen a pitying glance as she approached what she was pretty sure was not an altar. The top was inlaid with golden rings, each fitted together in perfect symmetry. Just off the center was a bronze basin, lined with blue crystals of a kind Leara had never seen before. She traced these with her fingers.

“So, what now?” Bishop asked, leaning against another gate at the back of the room. Behind it was a dark shaft with a lever in the middle. Leara looked back at the crystal.

Removing the sphere Septimus Signus gave her, Leara set it into the basin and waited.

Karnwyr coughed, and Leara smiled at him.

“So, what’s supposed to happen?”

Leara frowned at the sphere. “I don’t—”

The rings on the table began to spin. A deep grating sound reverberated through the floor. Leara leaped back as one after another the stone tiles surrounding the control sank down, one after another until a stair led down into the dark.

“That happens,” Leara said faintly as she examined the stairs. “This must lead to Blackreach.”

“That idiot was never going to get in,” Bishop scoffed. Leara looked at him. “He would’ve needed one of those spheres, right?”

“I suppose so,” Leara mused. She grabbed her sphere. If she understood Septimus, it was more like a key than a doorjamb. Nothing happened when she took it, so Leara descended the stairs into the dark, her companions behind her. At the base was a short hallway dominated by a large golden bronze door.

It creaked softly on its hinges. Leara pushed through and stopped.

“By the Nine,” she whispered.

A cool green glow dominated her version. Leara blinked once, twice. Blackreach was a cavern, larger than any she’d ever read about. The green glow that lit the air in an etheric twilight hung over the cavern in a blanket of mist, born from—

“Giant glowing mushrooms,” Bishop deadpanned.

“Bioluminescent,” Leara whispered, gaping at the towering spores. Like a Telvanni experiment gone wrong.

“Bio-what?”

Leara shook her head, her mind whirling.

It was beautiful, in a strange, alien sort of way. As if she stepped from one world and into another. The air was cool and damp, carrying with it a musty wet smell unlaid with the scent of dew on stone. A road of gold-tinted stones led down from the Alftand door, winding into the twilight of the cavern. In the haze, Leara could make out vague shapes that might be dwarven structures, but they could’ve been natural rock formations for all she could tell. An ill sort of melancholy settled over Leara’s shoulders. How big was this place? How much further did they have to go?

“How the Hell are we supposed to find an Elder Scroll down here, anyway?” Bishop asked, voicing Leara’s thoughts.

The elf crossed her arms, her hand on one elbow as the other tapped her chin. “Follow the yellow brick road,” she shrugged. Bishop rolled his eyes.

·•★•·

They rested in the hallway, the door to Blackreach closed behind them. After a meal of dried fish and horker jerky, Leara took the time to make sure all their water skins were full. Frost magic in itself wasn’t dissolvable into drinking water, but there was an old spell from the Imperial Battlemage Academy that altered the aetheric ice into mundane water. She learned it from a nondescript book in the castle library while stationed in Skingrad. Sometimes she wished she’d taken it when she left, but despite being unassuming, something told her that book was valuable to someone. It was a concentrated spell that required a steady hand and more than a passing familiarity with the Alteration school. The results were a flat, tasteless skin of water. She didn’t use it much, but in a place like this, Leara trust her own spell work over any subterranean river or lake.

Bishop took his skin without a word and drained half of it. Leara gave Karnwyr half of hers before refilling both skins. Her hands were cold and damp when she was finished.

They set off a few hours later. The silence of Blackreach was different from that of Alftand: There was a nearly imperceptible humming that tickled the fine hairs on the back of her neck. Sometimes it was a low murmur, others a clear high note. Every so often, Leara glanced over her shoulder, half-expecting someone to be there, following her, but each time there was nothing.

They were alone.

“I don’t like this,” Bishop grumbled after a while.

The road curved left down a slope. Through the mist, Leara spied a low square structure just off from the road. Curiosity drew her forward.

“Hey!” Bishop called out, but Leara ignored him as she mounted the steps – sidestepping just in time to avoid a sphere as it came shooting from a short, gilded box on the porch. Leara spun, her katana ringing through the air as the sphere began to unfold. With a shriek, the upper humanlike mechanics split from the ball. Broken, the sphere clattered down the stairs in pieces.

Bishop coughed,

Leara’s head lulled back, her katana falling loosely to her side. “What.”

“Oh, don’t mind me, ladyship. Just admiring the view.”

“. . . right,”

The door swung silently open with a gentle prod, and Leara found herself in a dusty alchemy laboratory. Which . . . couldn’t be right. The laboratory setup looked modern, surrounded by shriveled piles of ruined ingredients. On the far side of the table were an enchanter’s arcane table and a stack of dusty books. These things were recent. But how? There was a sad hum in the air, almost as if the house were mourning.

“What a dump,” Bishop said, kicking at a tattered old sack. It toppled over and out spilled what may have once been potatoes. Now it was just a pile of shriveled gray-brown rocks.

Karnwyr woofed. Leara turned and her heart clenched in her chest. In the far corner was a rickety cot with a skeleton hanging halfway on it. A black chitin arrow was lodged at an angle in its ribcage.

“Poor bastard,” Bishop said. He yanked the arrow out, examining it. “Not too different from the ones in the body we found.”

“So, the creatures are in Blackreach too. Lovely,” Leara sighed. The mourning notes struck a minor chord. From the corner of her eye, Leara saw a red silhouette rustle, as if sighing. Rounding, Leara came face to face with a Nirnroot. A Nirnroot as bloody red as a rose of passion.

It was the source of the singing.

“Oh my,” Leara whispered, peering closer at the Nirnroot. She knew the plants to sing, but this one was so different and its song so tonally dissimilar to its green cousins that she felt her curiosity piqued. This must be a research laboratory! To study the subvariety of Nirnroots – Leara tore back to the table and shuffled through the stack of books. “No, no, no—”

“Have you gone crazy, bookworm?”

Leara set De Rerum Dirennis down. “I’m looking for research notes. I’m positive this is some kind of laboratory for field research! Someone was studying these Nirnroots!”

“You mean the screaming plants?” Bishop sneered. “Who would want to study those? They’re weeds. Noisy weeds.”

Leara pinched her nose. Do not engage, she told herself. Do not. “They have some alchemical properties of interest,” she settled on, passively.

Bishop rolled his eyes.

Abandoning the worktable, Leara skirted the room, passing over the cold cookpot and moldy food sacks to the cot. She glanced at the small camping table with its crumbling candle stub before reaching the skeleton of the ill-fated alchemist. In their arms was a tattered leatherbound journal. Those had to be the research notes! With delicate fingers and a silent prayer to Arkay, Leara pulled the book from the bones. Her skin itched to read through it, but her rational mind reminded her that she still had a task ahead of her. With a sigh, she slipped the book into her satchel.

“So, that’s it? You wanted to pry a book from a dead man’s hands?”

“I want to preserve knowledge,” Leara explained. “Who knows who could come here next and if the lab will still be intact then.”

After clipping some samples from the red Nirnroot and placing them in a vial, Leara snagged the scattered soul gems and followed an exasperated Bishop back into the churning mists of Blackreach.

·•★•·

Leara calculated the time from the tempus charm. Well over a day since they’d entered Blackreach. Over half a week since entering Alftand. She hadn’t the foggiest idea how far down they were under the earth or where they would pop up if – when they emerged from the earth. She drew a compass rose on the back of her hand. Southwest. Still steadily southwest.

What might have once been a guard post stood on either side of the road, connected overhead with a bridge. They’d stopped there to rest, but the longer they waited in the shadows of the Dwemer stone, the more disquiet Leara felt. She cast a distrustful eye toward the dark towers. Aside from the hum of the red Nirnroots and the rush of nearby water, the cavern was quiet. Eerily so. The feeling of unease that settled on her shoulders when they entered the cavern seeped through the slots in her armor, through her clothes, and into her skin with a chilling tingle.

Karnwyr snuffled at her side. Banishing the runes, Leara scratched the wolf’s head. Bishop emerged from behind a geode mound, his hands tugging the ties of his pants closed. Leara averted her eyes.

“Any idea how much further we need to go?” he asked, wiping his palms on his thighs.

“Not a bit,” she shook her head.

Bishop frowned. “Food’s getting low.”

“I know,” Leara shifted uncomfortable, all too aware of the lightness in the food packs. She missed how heavy it was on her back when they climbed the glacier nearly a week before.

“What’s bugging me,” Bishop said, kicking at a stout little mushroom just alongside the road, The powder blue top popped off and fell to the ground. “Is that we’ve not seen one of those creatures. They’re here. We both know that, but you’d think they’d be, y’know, here!”

“Do you want to run into them?” Leara asked, one chestnut eyebrow raised to a gentle point.

“Are you crazy? No, but it’s kinda strange, you’ve got to admit.”

Leara hummed and knelt beside her food pack. She pulled some horker jerky from its paper and extended it to Karnwyr, who scarfed it up. “Salmon or jerky?” she asked, elbow-deep in the pack.

Soft steps padded closer to here. “I’m not hungry, sweetness. Not for that, at least.”

Leara sat back on her heels, craning her neck back only to find Bishop looming over her, a wolfish grin on his face. She scoffed, “Then starve.”

“Stop playing hard to get, darling,” Bishop smirked. “It’s cold down here. Why don’t you crawl into my bedroll for the night and I’ll keep you warm.”

“I’m warm enough, thank you,” Leara said, biting the end of a salted salmon patty. “If you’re cold, why don’t you cuddle Karnwyr?”

He stared at her. “Are you usually this dense or is all the salt drying out your brain? I want you. Now. In my bedroll. With me.”

Leara sat, crossing her legs in front of her. Why did he always choose the most inopportune time to come on to her? Although, she amended, there would never be an opportune moment for it. She didn’t want him that way. Why couldn’t Bishop see that?

“Listen,” she began.

An arrow appeared in Bishop’s shoulder, burying itself in the thick black leather. The ranger jerked back with a grunt. He yanked it out the next moment, and Leara recognized the black-purple chitin of the creatures’ arrows.

Leara was on her feet, her katana drawn, but the creatures were already on them.

“Hey!” Bishop yelled, as three piled on him. He cut them back with his dagger, only for more to swarm closer.

Leara swung the food pack on her back, barely twisting in time to meet the gnarled blade of one of the creatures. They pushed back and forth before Leara blasted it with a shard of ice. To her horror, while it skewered the creature clean through the sternum, shattering bone, the aetheric ice did not crawl into the flesh. It remained untouched as if the spear were one of wood or steel and not magic.

The creatures were impervious to ice.

Spindly fingers grabbed at her elbows and Leara screamed.

“WULD!”

In a blur, she flew across the dark earth, stumbling to a stop several yards away from the fray. She spun, taking in the pandemonium in a split second: Bishop was fending off several at close quarters, one of the chitin swords in his hands. Karnwyr was low to the ground, snapping at bare ankles and feet. Leara couldn’t count how many creatures were there. A lot was not a definite number, but it was several too many anyway.

A second passed, then bodies began to move toward her. Leara balled her fists together, her katana falling to the grown. Her hands tingled.

Lightning spun in a chain through the air, hitting one creature before jumping to the next. Inhuman shrieks filled the air, shrill against Karnwyr’s deep bark and the electric sizzle pop of destructive magic. The smell of burning flesh filled the air, nauseating and familiar. Karnwyr shot from the fray like an arrow toward her.

“Run!” Leara screamed, snatching her katana from the ground.

Bishop hesitated, staring at the sizzling bodies around him and the number of creatures still teeming toward him. He spun and fled.

With Bishop and Karnwyr on her heels, Leara ran into the dark away from the road, the shrieks and scuttle of the creatures in pursuit. There was running water nearby, right? Half an idea sat in the back of her mind, trying to come together, but Leara’s senses were dominated by a burn in her chest, adrenaline in her limbs, and a thousand thoughts whirling in her head.

Bishop’s longer legs pulled him ahead of her, his form dark as his feet pounded against the earth. Then there was distance between them, growing longer the further they ran. Leara’s knees threatened to buckle. The creatures were gaining on her. Where was Karnwyr? Leara could feel the whisper of spidery hands at her back, grasping and pinching and never letting go. With a grunt, she fell.

Most of the horde passed her by, still after Bishop, still hunting the moving target. Two remained to examine Leara’s prone form, pale hands grasping at her armor. The weight on her back was unbearable, and Leara was pressed harder into the dirt. It was in her mouth, on her tongue. She squeezed her eyes shut, her heart pounding the doom drum. Then the whirlwind in her head stilled.

Fade. Spirit.

Fade. Spirit . . .

She inhaled, dirt coating her tongue. “FEIM ZII!”

Earth fell away from her mouth. Leara rolled, passing through the screeching creatures reaching for her. Their hands passed through her, cold and strange but untouching. Leara rolled to her feet. The dim twilight glow of Blackreach faded, brightening and blanching as if the world passed away and only its ghost remained. Or perhaps Leara was the ghost, ethereal. For a moment she closed her eyes, remembering her quiet meditation with Paarthurnax over Feim, the first word to Become Ethereal. “Su'um ahrk morah. You will find that your spirit will give you more strength.” Breathe and focus. Peace settled over her, banishing her panic. Leara drew her katana.

Her spirit became skin and bone once her katana connected with the creature’s neck. She swung in a wide arc, cleaving the long head from its thin neck. Its fellow screamed and was silenced a moment later as lightning burned a snapping hole through its chest.

Karnwyr darted from the shadows, head bumping into her leg. Leara grunted at the contact, reaching down to caress the wolf’s head before looking around. They were alone. “Oh dear.”

Clairvoyance and an ear to the air led Leara on a tether into the dark after Bishop and the horde of creatures. She would need to try and discover more about them if she ever made it back to the surface world. There was something unnatural and inhuman about them, yes, but something dreadfully broken and melancholic. Their souls were shattered, and Leara wanted to know why.

The distant drone of an underground river that she’d heard from the guard post became a rushing roar somewhere below. So, it ran through a canyon carved through the cavern. Then Leara saw them.

Bishop fought the horde, right on the precipice. The chitin sword was still in his hands, now coated in blood as pale as morning.

“Bishop! Move!”

He looked at her, his eyes wild and his face twisted. He must have seen something in her face, though, because the next moment he fell into a roll, slipping from the immediate grasp of the creatures on the cliff.

Again, Leara inhaled, the earth stilling beneath her feet as though she were a mountain, rooted to its core. “FUS RO DAH!”

Her Shout billowed out, slamming into the horde of creatures several yards away. They went over the cliff, screaming and howling in terror and rage. A shout of surprise and dismay, deeper than the creatures’ wails, echoed through the air almost at once.

As Bishop toppled backward into the abyss, howling at the top of his lungs, Leara realized too late that the full power of Unrelenting Force pushed wider than she thought it would. Crying out, Leara scrambled the remaining half dozen yards to the cliffside, but she was too late. By the time she fell on her stomach to peer over the edge, she could neither see Bishop nor the creatures. Only the distant gleam of murky gray water under the bioluminescence of the towering mushroom forest.

“Bishop! BISHOP!”

Silence.

Karnwyr was at her side, down on his forelegs as he peered down into the river. His ears were flat against his head. Leara met the wolf’s dark brown eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, voice thick. “I’m so sorry.” In response, Karnwyr lowered his head to his paws. The wolf sighed.

Leara turned again to the river, but it was as void of life as before. Her stomach soured and her heart clenched. Bishop was gone. She killed him and now he was dead.

Bishop was dead and, barring Karnwyr, she was alone in the deep dark of Blackreach.

Despite herself, Leara felt tears build at the edges of her vision. He was the most insufferable, disconcerting, and possessive individual she’d ever met, but she didn’t want him dead – at least, she didn’t want to kill him. Especially here when traveling alone could mean death.

It was a while before Leara could bring herself to move. Karnwyr glued himself to her side, and they retreated from the cliff, a clairvoyance spell leading the way back to the road.

·•★•·

The eerie light of an artificial sun mixed with the glow of the mushroom forest, casting citrine, aquamarine, and amethyst shadows over the banks of the river. Leara stood at the head of the bridge, her gaze fixed on the plummeting falls just downriver. Karnwyr pressed into her leg. Before her across the river rose a towering city of silent stones. But it was far from empty. Life detection revealed hundreds of pale pink pinpricks swarming across the ruins like ants in their hill. In the mix were a few dozen dark souls, human souls. A closer look saw hazy memories, glimpses at blood on snow, spidery hands, the descent into the dark, and pain. Pain and fear, constant and without hope of an end.

Leara’s heart bobbed in her throat. She and Karnwyr would not be entering the city.

“I hope the Tower of Mzark isn’t a part of that place,” she whispered to Karnwyr.

Leara retreated back from the bridge, the wolf at her heels. Plopping onto a rock, she pushed her hood back and buried her face in her hands with a weary sigh. “I’m so tired of this place, Karnwyr, aren’t you?”

The wolf’s only answer was to push his head into her lap and sneeze on her war skirt.

“Thanks,” the Dragonborn giggled. She scratched his ears.

Seventeen hours had passed since Bishop fell. Leara and Karnwyr had hunted out a hollow between rocks to sleep in, far enough away from the guard post and the cliffs to avoid being found if any more creatures came skulking around. It was dismal, but it was the most rest she would get while in Blackreach. Karnwyr had the good fortune to be able to sleep anyway, unbothered that his bed and pillow were made of rocks.

Bishop’s bow was across Leara’s back. He’d dropped it before his fall, and she picked it up from the cliff’s edge. She had no arrows – archery was never her strong suit – but she didn’t feel right leaving his bow in the dirt in a place so forgotten by the rest of the world.

Now more than ever, Leara was on edge, her senses tuned to the music of Blackreach. Something else was here. She’d felt it since entering the cavern, but after the ambush at the guard post, the feeling flamed into an inferno that licked at her skin, reaching for her soul. But it did not show itself, slumbering on in the eternal night.

She eyed the silent city. “There’s nothing for it,” she said to Karnwyr. “We have to pass by it at the very least and pray to Akatosh we’re not exposing ourselves.”

Leara approached the bridge, Illusion magic bubbling from her hands to muffle her and Karnwyr’s steps. The bridge was long and without a rail, spanning the entire length of the river. Leara refused to look down. She wasn’t afraid of heights, but the idea of plunging down into the murky waters, so cold and so deep beneath the earth, filled her with unspeakable dread. She couldn’t fathom what Bishop must’ve felt before he hit the water. To realize in a moment that waters never touched by the sun would be his grave. He must have been so scared.

When they reached the opposite side, Leara finally glanced at the expanse beyond the falls. Emptiness, a great dark emptiness void of light or life.

The shadows fluttered.

Leara frowned.

Tension tightened across her shoulders. She walked close to the walls of the city, out of sight from anyone who looked over the parapet. Karnwyr trailed close behind her, his short ears strained against the silence of the city. Leara knew he could hear things she couldn’t. She couldn’t imagine what he heard: the sounds hissing through the ruins, the hush of bare feet on the stone, and the whisper of unknown tongues.

The road stretched around the city, studded with natural rocks of bright teal and fallen debris of dull gray. It brushed tantalizingly close to the cliffs and the dark beyond. Leara kept her eyes pointedly on the road, wary of the threats on either side. It was a slow trek, long and winding. Leara prayed to Akatosh, Kynareth, and the rest for the journey to be near its end. Down in the underground, her sense of time was precariously tied to a tempus charm she cast with increasing frequency. What would she find when she emerged from Mzark with the Elder Scroll? What destruction would Alduin have wrought in her absence?

Dread pooled low in her stomach. She’d been underground so long, was there anything left to return to? Feelings of loss and loneliness clawed up her throat, stinging her eyes, and Leara had to choke back a sob. Why was this so hard on her? Why?

As if sensing her despair, Karnwyr shoved his nose into Leara’s palm, his whiskers tickling her bare fingers. Leara exhaled harshly, forcing her welling emotions back under her careful control. She would be fine, she and Karnwyr. They would retrieve the Elder Scroll and make it out of Mzark and back to Paarthurnax. Then she would learn Dragonrend and defeat Alduin and everything would be fine. Perfectly fine.

·•★•·

The darkness fluttered in the corner of her eye. Leara ignored it.

After several hours, she and Karnwyr were clear of the city. Its silent horror slept on behind them as the Dragonborn and wolf made their way across a dark plateau studded with boulders and crumbling ruins. In the distance, she spied a twisting walkway and a towering pinnacle that she was certain had to be the Tower of Mzark. It was still a few hours' walk away, but the sight of it calmed the anxiety building in her chest. They were nearly there.

The dark fluttered again, and Leara felt her fine hairs stand on end.

A near-silent swoosh overhead and Leara fell into a crouch, Karnwyr lowering beside her. Every nerve was on end, waiting.

The shadow lighted on the path ahead, its dark eyes gleaming with golden fire. It crept forward, unheeding as Leara pulled her katana from its sheath.

It crept closer still. Under the dim light of the artificial sun and the tower mushrooms, the bronzed face of a dragon loomed closer.

Her katana in hand, Leara slipped into the familiar Bretic dualling pose, her left foot back, her right forward, and her sword turned to a stabbing point. Why was there a dragon in Blackreach? How—? No, that didn’t matter right now. What mattered was the dragon ahead of her and the hive of creatures behind her. She needed to defuse one without setting off the other.

The dragon watched her.

“Drem Yol Lok,” said the Dragonborn, her guard arm still raised. She waited.

“Dovahkiin,” said the dragon. His voice was hoarse, as if from disuse. Or damage. “Pruzah grind, zu’u Vulthuryol. Zu’u hon hin Thu’um nau fin su. Zu’u paar wah tinvaak wah hi.”

Leara gaped at him. The droning whisper of his voice carried a memory of power long faded. She didn’t understand what the dragon said, but she recognized her name, Dovahkiin, and tinvaak, Paarthurnax’s word for speaking. Did this dragon – Vulthuryol, her soul hummed – wish to speak to her?

She fell back on what she learned from the Greybeards. “Sky above, Voice within, Vulthuryol.”

Vulthuryol peered closer at her, his eyes aflame. Then he breathed fire.

It did not burn, just as Paarthurnax’s hadn’t, but Leara threw a ward over Karnwyr, nonetheless. She didn’t want to know what the customs of the dov would do to a wolf. “YOL!” she breathed, bathing the bronze dragon in gentle golden flames.

Vulthuryol preened. “Hin Thu’um los mul. Krosis, nuz hi kod fin joor tinvaak. You speak the mortal tongue.”

“Yes,” Leara said slowly. Of all the things she’d expected to encounter in Blackreach, a dragon that wished to speak to her rather than try to consume her was not on her list. “Greetings, Vulthuryol. What do you wish to speak to me about?”

Rearing his neck back, Vulthuryol peered into the darkness of the cavern before returning his gaze to the Dragonborn. “I felt the shift of kosetiid, the sands of time. Has Alduin thuri returned?”

Leara eyed the dragon distrustfully. Hadn’t the dragon in Kynesgrove, Sahloknir, called Alduin thuri? She made a mental note to ask Paarthurnax or at least Master Arngeir what “thuri” meant. Maybe Master Arngeir had a primer on the dragon tongue that she could study. Whatever thuri meant, she didn’t trust it.

“Yes, he has,” she replied evenly.

“Then you are doom-driven, Dovahkiin,” said Vulthuryol in his deep whisper. The Dragonborn was stone=faced. “This is daan, destiny at hand. Alduin thuri lost his suleyksejun long ago.”

At last, Leara lowered her katana, the long hilt held loosely in her hand. “You wish for me to defeat Alduin?” she asked in surprise.

“Geh, you must,” nodded the bronze dragon. “Kogaan tiid, time broke around Alduin, and the world is worse for his folly.” He bowed his head. “I would make a request of you, Dovahkiin, if you would allow it.”

Vulthuryol was very different from Paarthurnax. While the leader of the Greybeards enjoyed long speeches, the bronze dragon, despite being the one to initiate conversation, seemed to be a dovah of few words. “What is it?’ Leara asked.

“When Alduin’s folaasdrah is undone, remember me in my torment.”

Torment? Leara desperately wanted to ask Vulthuryol what he meant, but the words caught on the back of her tongue. She glanced back at the silent specter of the dwarven city, at the huge cavern dominated by the ruins of Dwemer civilization, and she knew somehow that the deep elves were responsible for this dragon’s presence in Blackreach. Somehow, they had broken and diminished his power, and in the millennia since their disappearance, Vulthuryol seemed scarcely to have recovered. She would not shame the remnants of his pride in asking. It was likely difficult for him to approach her in the first place. He wasn’t . . . scared of her, was he?

The idea didn’t sit right. Dragons shouldn’t fear mortals.

But you’re not mortal, her soul whispered. You are Dragonborn.

Her mind was made up.

“I will return for you, Vulthuryol,” she said, voice high and clear. “I will not leave you in Blackreach. You will fly the skies of Tamriel again, on my word as Dovahkiin.”

If dragons could cry, Leara imagined Vulthuryol would have shed a steaming tear, so deep was the look he gave her.

·•★•·

Vulthuryol flew her and Karnwyr to the Tower of Mzark. Getting Karnwyr to sit in her lap while the dragon was in flight had been a nerve-wracking experience for both Leara and the wolf. The hours they’d had left eclipsed in a matter of minutes. Karnwyr shook and whimpered the entire time, but Leara held tightly to him, whispering gentle words of comfort in the wolf’s ears.

From the back of a dragon, Blackreach was a different world. Overhead she could see glittering specks of diamond blue and crystal white gleaming down into the haze of purple-blue-gold light wafting through the cavern. Her soul sang at the sensation, soaring higher than Vulthuryol’s wings could bear her in the confines of Blackreach. It was wonderful. It was right.

It was over far too soon.

Vulthuryol alighted at the top of the ramp, his large wiry body settling with a birdlike lightness. Leara bid the dragon a thankful and respectful farewell, again promising to free him from the cavern. Vulthuryol only bowed his head, his heart reflected in his eyes. He bade the Dragonborn a solemn goodbye and took flight.

Then Leara and Karnwyr entered the Tower of Mzark.

Karnwyr liked the lift as much as he liked flying: that is, not at all. He laid across Leara’s boots as the platform ascended. Leara hummed to herself, anxiety and excitement building in tandem. This was it. This was where she would find the Elder Scroll!

The remnants of a ruined camp greeted them when they stepped off the lift. Leara studied the dusty remains as they entered the chamber. They were old, but not related to the alchemy laboratory near Alftand. Her shoulders relaxed. Good. This meant there was likely an exit from the tower that was unconnected to Blackreach. Leara wasn’t sure what she’d have done if she and Karnwyr had been forced to pass back through miles of ruins to the Alftand entrance. Cry, probably. Starve, most likely.

A handful of soul gems were scattered on one of the shelving units in between piles of twisted dwarven metal. Leara swept these into her satchel, then looked back at the camp. There were stacks of books everywhere, each one ruined and shriveled with damage. A pang for lost knowledge tugged at Leara’s heart. The cold remains of a campfire drew her eye, and Leara frowned. Yes, there was definitely a surface entrance.

Picking up an empty knapsack, Leara made her way to the opposite end of the room where a high arch led into a short passage. At the end was a door, and Leara pushed through this silently.

And stopped.

“By the Nine,” she whispered, crystal eyes wide.

A large domed box of gold and blue crystal, not dissimilar from the alloys that made up Septimus Signus’ lockbox, dominated her vision. To the side was a stone ramp curving along the circular walls of the room. Leara mounted this, her steps growing quicker the further she went until she emerged at the top of the box, her breath knocked from her lungs.

A dim light shone down from high in the ceiling, bouncing off blue-green glass panels mounted on the upper walls. Fastened to rods crisscrossing the ceiling in a golden patchwork were several long spindly arms with great rings on the end fitted with refracted crystal lenses. Each arm stretched down in a graceful arc, forming a protective nest around a series of rings and beams. In the midst of these, just visible, was an oblong capsule of crystal so deep and opaque that Leara could not see what was inside.

This was the Dwemer Oculory, and Leara knew that Elder Scroll was inside that capsule.

On the podium above the oculory, Leara found the controls. She drew sort. A skeleton was propped against the wall, a red leather journal strown across its lap. Hesitant, Leara gave Karnwyr a shrug before crouching beside the skeleton and reaching for the journal. Flipping through it, she frowned at the crude language of the man, Drokt, and his obsession with the ocular array. Then she studied it more closely. Chewing her lip, Leara set the journal aside and approached the controls.

“I’m not very familiar with this at all,” she said over her shoulder to Karnwyr. The wolf sat watching her, his head tilted to the side in curiosity. “But I have an idea it’s not quite as complicated as that man tried to make it. The Dwemer were a highly technical race, thriving off math and science. I’m sure logic is the answer here.”

Karnwyr barked, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. Leara laughed softly at him.

Extracting the cube Septimus Signus had given her, she placed it on the far right control where stout little arms latched it into place. At once, covers slid back from the other controls, revealing a series of glowing buttons brighter than the sun in high summer. Overhead, the ceiling opened, and light flooded the chamber, unfocused. Leara studied the buttons, noting the central panel studded with the alignment of Nirn’s skies.

Pressing the first button, Leara held her breath. The apparatus did not move. Nodding to herself, Leara delicately pressed the second button.

It sprang to life at once, arms shifting and lenses redirecting light. At last, progress!

Leara pressed buttons, counting back and forth as the lenses and rings shifted, reflecting light across the room. Trial and error were her bread and butter as she ran through a series of patterns across the panel, focusing and refocusing the oculory,

At some point, Karnwyr fell asleep, but Leara carried on, engrossed in her task. This was the kind of challenge she was suited for. Patterns and information retrieval. Perhaps she should’ve been a librarian instead of a Blade. Maybe when all this was over, she would join the College of Winterhold, see if Urag gro-Shub needed an assistant.

Her mouth set in a grim line. Fat chance if Ancano was still there. Especially after she pulled that stunt on him.

Light flooded the chamber and the machinery sang. With a resounding ring! the lenses slid into place and the capsule lowered to the ground.

With a cry of excitement, Leara flew down the ramp to the capsule, a startled Karnwyr close behind. The capsule hissed open, finished metal sliding against polished glass. A long cylindrical scroll was nestled inside, cocooned in light.

With careful, trembling hands, Leara extracted the Elder Scroll. Holding it to her chest, she breathed a sigh of relief. Then began to laugh. And then she began to sob. She’d done it! She actually found the Elder Scroll!

“Tears, darling? And to think, I’d thought you left me behind.”

Leara’s arms grew rigid around the Elder Scroll. Slowly, oh so slowly she turned around.

Standing with his back against the wall where the upper and lower ramps met beside the oculory, was Bishop. A little worse for wear, with a hole in the dark leather of his armor just below his right shoulder and a black bruise along the left side of his face, was Bishop.

At Leara’s open-mouthed shock, he smirked. Pushing off the wall, he sauntered toward her, a swagger in his step. “Did you miss me?” he said, coming to a halt in front of her.

The musk of fungus and mineral water flooded her nose and clotted her throat. “Bishop,” she whispered as a storm of turmoil thundered through her veins. She’d thought he was dead. He was dead and she kept going despite her guilt. But he was never dead, not really. He was in front of her. Alive.

Leara felt her brain grind to a halt. If she were asked to refocus the oculory now, she wasn’t sure she’d even be able to attach the lexicon to the receptacle, much less retrieve the Elder Scroll.

Bishop smirked at her.

The timeless artifact clattered to the floor as the ranger enfolded a statuesque Leara in his arms. She felt unattached from her body, as if she were drifting through the beams of light flooding the oculory. She couldn’t feel her hands or her feet. If Bishop hadn’t been holding her, Leara knew she would’ve crumpled like paper.

And when, the next moment, Bishop kissed her, one arm locked around her waist and the other hand tangled in her matted red hair, Leara didn’t fight him.

No, she kissed him back.

·•★•·

Vulthuryol’s Dovahzuul:

Pruzah grind, zu’u Vulthuryol. Zu’u hon hin Thu’um nau fin su. Zu’u paar wah tinvaak wah hi. | Well met, I am Vulthuryol. I heard your Thu’um on the air. I desire to speak to you.

Hin Thu’um los mul. Krosis, nuz hi kod fin joor tinvaak. | Your Thu’um is strong. Pardon, but you use the mortal tongue.

Kosetiid | sands of time

Folaasdrah | wrongdoing

[acacia-may]

Let Them See (Finral x Vanessa Fic)

While guests at the Heart Kingdom's royal wedding, Finral (drunkenly) takes a big step in his relationship with Vanessa.

Relationships: Finral Roulacase/Vanessa Enoteca, Charmy & Finral Friendship, and Charmy & Vanessa Friendship. Briefly Mentions Gadjah/Lolopetchka (because it's their wedding) and Langris/Finesse (in one line)

Genre: Romance, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Kissing (there's a lot of drinking here), Secret Relationship, Fluff, Attempt at Humor, Slice of Life, & Charmy being snarky (even though I can guarantee she doesn't want to be here)

Rated: T for drinking and descriptive kissing

Word Count: 2516

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day, Black Clover fandom friends! I know I haven't been writing much BC lately, but I've had this story in my drafts forever as part of a massive work I'm not sure will ever get finished (sadly) so I've decided to post this "chapter" as a standalone for Valentine's Day. I hope you enjoy it. Many thanks to @delirious-donna who proofread this way, way back in the day, and a big thank you to anyone who reads this! I really appreciate your support! Cheers! 💕

Link to Work on AO3. Full Text Below the Cut. Thank you for reading!

“Care to dance?”

Vanessa could barely hear the groomsman over the loud music and excited chattering of the wedding reception, but she caught on well enough as he held out his hand to her. Usually, she would have found this kind of attention flattering, but in this particular case, she had been trying to keep a low profile and being continually asked to dance was making it difficult.

She sighed and shot Finral a glance across the table. “Well…actually…”

“It’s fine,” Finral mouthed at her with a wave of his hand.

“You don’t mind?” she asked confusedly. While they hadn’t being seeing each other for very long and hadn’t told anyone about the relationship, Vanessa still wasn’t sure that Finral would be comfortable with her being whisked away by other men while she was technically here with him—even if no one knew that except them. Perhaps, he was thinking that they weren’t entirely exclusive yet or that it would be suspicious if she kept declining when she was asked to dance.  

Whatever his reasoning, Finral shrugged and reassured her “No, go ahead—you should dance if you want.”

With a slight shrug of her shoulders, Vanessa was soon led to the dance floor by the groomsman, and Finral returned to his drink. She glanced over at him periodically as several other men cut in and pulled her away from the man who had originally asked her to dance—offering her their hands and several delicious cocktails which, if she was being honest, she enjoyed much more than their company. By the time her squad mates interjected and whisked her off to dance with them instead, she had lost sight of Finral in the crowd of celebrating wedding guests.

“Have you seen Finral?” she asked Magna, but he merely shrugged with a slight shake of his head.

“At the bar maybe…?” he suggested before Charmy interrupted in between forkfuls of dessert.

“Maybe he’s getting cake—it’s delicious! You should go get some.”

Vanessa excused herself to—as far as her squad mates were concerned—follow Charmy’s advice not to go looking for her pseudo-secret-boyfriend. She rubbed her hand across her forehead at the thought. How drunk was she that she was suddenly thinking of Finral as her boyfriend? Or perhaps it was entirely the opposite, and it was a part of her that was still a little too sober that wanted to label their relationship…

Vanessa pushed the thought away, but her head was already spinning. Just in case it was in fact the uncharacteristic sobriety, she downed the drink in her hand and stopped by her table to pick up the shot of tequila she had left there—at least she hoped that was her table... Stumbling a little, she made her way to the bar where she found Finral leaning on the counter surrounded by empty glasses with various decorative straws and umbrellas.

“There you are,” she said taking a seat next to him. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Finral shrugged before taking another swig of his drink as Vanessa hailed the bartender to order whatever he was having. “Taking full advantage of the open bar, I see…” she teased.

“You seem to be having lots of fun yourself—you’ve danced with practically every guy here…”

“Except you,” she answered before she gave him a playful scolding. “You haven’t asked me to dance all night…”

“Haven’t you danced enough with everybody else?” sighed Finral tilting his glass and watching the red and orange swirls tumbling in the otherwise clear liquid.

“Listen, I only did that because you said it was alright.” Vanessa picked up the drink the bartender had left for her on the counter and took a swig before she tilted her head pointedly at him. “You’re the one who basically snubbed me…”

Finral rolled his eyes before he downed the rest of his drink waving at the bartender for another. “You wouldn’t be able to tell that with the way all those men were falling all over themselves just to talk to you. They’d still be trying to dance with you or getting you drinks if Luck hadn’t threatened to fight them all.”

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous…” A slight smile spread across her lips as she tilted her head and snaked her arm around his back.

“No, I’m not the jealous type,” he answered with a sigh as he picked up his next drink. “But…but that doesn’t mean…” He stopped—his slurring voice trailing as he stared down at his hands. He bit his lip. “Can I ask you something?”

Vanessa’s brow furrowed, but she answered, “Sure.”

Finral sighed but wouldn’t—possibly couldn’t—meet her eyes. “Are you…embarrassed to be with me?”

Vanessa hands seemed to move on their own as she reached out and pressed her palm to his cheek, tilting his face up at her. “What? Of course not. Why would you think that?”  

“Well we haven’t told anyone that we’re—you know…”—the volume of his voice dropped—“kind of a thing now…It’s like this big secret…which yeah, has been kind of fun but I don’t know… seeing you with all those men tonight—they’re so much stronger and more charming, more handsome, and all around better than I am…” He paused and shrugged his shoulders. “I just wondered if…maybe you didn’t want people thinking you settled…”

“Finral, that’s not how I feel at all…” Vanessa smiled slightly, sympathetically. “We both agreed it would be best not to tell anyone at first—in case it didn’t work out, remember? It would just make things awkward… Our friends would never let us live it down, and we would’ve had to sit through the Captain’s lecture on the ‘one rule’ for nothing.” Vanessa chuckled lightly and winked at him in an attempt to lighten the mood. “Considering we’re probably the reason he made that ‘no babies on the squad’ rule in the first place, I’m sure he’d have a lot to say…”

Finral’s slight twitch of smile quickly faded. “Do you really think we’re going to break up…?”

“Are we together?” she asked though she was unsure if it was all the alcohol or her curiosity getting the best of her that caused her to be so blunt.

Flushing, Finral swallowed hard. “I…I like to think we are, but—”

“Well in that case,” Vanessa cut him off—unable to hold back the smile that tugged at her lips. “I’d say it’s still pretty early in the relationship to say what could happen.” She sighed with a slight shrug of her shoulders. “We could still end up breaking it off... Not everything lasts forever, right?”

“I like to think some things do...I mean look at Gadjah and Lolopechka—they’re perfect for each other. They’re probably going to grow old together and die holding hands.”

“Lovely sentiment for their wedding,” quipped Vanessa before she took a sip of her own drink.

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way…” Finral sighed. “There’s something really beautiful about it, I think.” His face softened, and he had an almost wistful look in his eyes as he continued, “You can just tell how much they love each other. I’ve never been to a wedding like this before. Most noble marriages are arranged so weddings are pretty stuffy, formal and solemn—with everybody just trying to make the best of a bad situation. Even if the couple really is happy or content together, like Finesse and Langris, you wouldn’t be able to tell because of the way everybody is acting.”

Vanessa took another sip of her drink. She hadn’t been to a lot of noble weddings in the Clover Kingdom, but based on her experiences at Langris and Finesse’s alone, she couldn’t argue with Finral’s logic. “Sounds peachy… The Clover Kingdom aristocrats just have to ruin everything, don’t they?”

Finral’s mouth twitched in the corners before he stared down at his glass and sighed again. “That’s not what I want…I mean sure, I’ve always wanted to get married but not like that…” He paused—that wistful look returning to his face as his eyes widened and seemed to light up at his words. “I want a wedding where everybody says, ‘Wow, look at how much he loves her’ and ‘Can you believe how deliriously happy they are together.’”

“You really are such a hopeless romantic, aren’t you?” Vanessa teased affectionately ruffling his hair. A blush filled Finral’s cheeks, and he shuffled his feet against his barstool.

“Maybe…”

“What about her?” asked Vanessa running her hand through his hair.

“Who?”

“The bride in your dream wedding—does she love you too?”

Finral’s blush deepened, and he looked away from her. “I hope so…but I understand if she doesn’t…”

“I’m sure she does…” Vanessa reassured him. Disentangling her fingers from his hair, she stroked the side of his cheek with the back of her hand until he met her eyes again. Her voice grew soft, gentle as she continued, “I don’t know how she couldn’t…”   

Surprising both Vanessa and, seemingly, himself, Finral cupped her face in his hands. He suddenly leaned forward in his barstool and kissed her—just barely a brush of their lips, tentative yet sloppy somehow, probably from the tequila she could almost taste on his breath. Her eyes fluttered closed, and maybe it was all the alcohol talking but she couldn’t care less about anyone seeing them.

“Ah!” shrieked a voice followed by the clatter of dishware falling to the floor. Vanessa pulled back. Clearly, she had thought that much too soon as she found Charmy staring at them utterly dumbfounded—her third or fourth piece of wedding cake smashed on the ground. Finral’s face turned a bright rosy shade of red as Charmy exclaimed, “I don’t care how drunk you are—you can’t kiss Vanessa!”

“But…but Charmy…” Finral protested his words blurring together as they tumbled out of his mouth. “You don’t…you don’t understand… I think she’s the one.”

When Vanessa failed to stifle a giggle, Charmy rolled her eyes at her. After a pointed huff in Vanessa’s general direction, she turned her attention back to a very red-faced Finral with a stamp of her foot and crossed arms.

“Oh no you don’t. We’re not doing this again! If you start banging your head against the wall, I swear…”

“Why would I…?” Finral began with a trailing voice and confused tilt of his head. “Oh…” he said at last with a thoughtful nod and an awkward, drunken chuckle. “It’s not like that, Charmy. I promise…” Finral insisted again before staring into Vanessa’s face. “I…I love her…”

As he met her eyes, Vanessa could feel the heat rising in her cheeks—that blush that only came out when she drank too much. Her head was spinning with a rush of something she couldn’t quite place in the woozy haze of alcohol, but before she could say anything, Finral turned back to Charmy and said, “But don’t tell her that because… I don’t want to scare her away…”

Charmy blinked at him. “I’m sure you can handle that on your own…” she quipped causing Vanessa to burst out laughing. She frantically covered her mouth with her hand as Charmy added bitterly, “Though believe me, I want nothing more than to pretend I didn’t hear that…”

“Thank you, Charmy,” said Finral with grateful tears in his eyes, and once again, Vanessa found she couldn’t hold back her intoxicated giggling. He was such an emotional drunk—it was kind of sweet, in a way. Charmy, however, was unamused as she shook her head and turned her attention to her with a huff.

“I can tell the two of you are drunk, but are you really going to let him kiss you like that?” Charmy rolled her eyes, and Vanessa wondered if she had ever looked so exasperated. “Not to mention that other thing…”

Vanessa’s brow furrowed as if she was contemplating this thoughtfully—though her mind was clouded and hazy from too much liquor. “Charmy has a point…” she said at last turning to Finral. Her playful frown quickly shifted into a teasing grin. “I’m not going to let you kiss me like that…”

A somewhat delayed look of genuine confusion passed over Finral’s face before Vanessa leaned forward in her stool and pointed her finger at him. “You call that a kiss?” She laughed as Finral’s blush deepened. “I’ll show you a kiss…”

Without the slightest forethought, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him full on the mouth. She could feel him jerk backwards in surprise, but her hands frantically raced across his nape and tangled in his hair pulling him back to her with an almost desperate ardor.

“I hate you both,” muttered Charmy bitterly when they broke apart from each other both breathless and red in the face. “And I’ll never forgive you for making me ruin my cake. I’m going to get another piece…”  She sulked off leaving them once again alone at the bar though this time with Finral looking like he had just been whacked on the back of the head with one of Asta’s anti-magic swords.

“Woah…” he finally stammered at last. “That was…a kiss…”

“Yeah it was,” Vanessa teased with a flirtatious wink and an almost smug, lopsided grin.

“Vanessa…Vanessa…” he breathed before his face suddenly fell. “I’m so sorry…I…I just told Charmy that I love you…”

“That’s okay…it’s just Charmy. She thinks we’re just messing with her. Plus, we’re all used to you saying stupid things when you have too much tequila…” Vanessa laughed again as she playfully tapped his nose. “You’re drunk. I am too, but at least I’m not a lightweight.”

Finral sighed. “Yeah…maybe…but…but I…I really do love you, Vanessa…It’s not just the alcohol…” His voice trailed as he met her eyes and gently pushed a piece of hair out of her face.  “I…I think this is it…I’ve finally got it right…” His face flushed before he frantically added, “Is it…is it too soon to say that?”

“Maybe a little, but…” Vanessa smiled snaking her arms around his neck again. “As long as you don’t start telling random strangers I’m the only one for you and banging your head against a wall, I’m okay with that…”

Finral stifled a laugh. “That’s not funny.”

“If you get to say corny romantic things when you drink, I get to make bad jokes,” she teased pulling him close to her.

A blush filled his cheeks as his warm breath brushed against her skin. “Someone…someone will see…”

“Ah let ‘em,” shrugged Vanessa—her speech beginning to slur. “They’re bound to find out eventually…” She pulled him close enough to feel his racing heartbeat, the rapid rise and fall of his chest as she stopped a tantalizing mere inches away from his face. “Unless…” she breathed before brushing her lips against his. “You wanna go somewhere they can’t see us…”

[pepperchipper]

[starlitheaven]

DO I WANNA KNOW? — SUGURU GETOU

tags. 1.8k, canon, oral (f.receiving), sex, sorcerer reader, mentions of birth control

notes. @joyfulenthusiastwitch asked : Hi! Congratulations on your follower milestone! I'll go with Geto + do i wanna know by arctic monkeys. Thank you 💕. thank you <3 hope you like! for the 1k follower event.

can i take you out? that nice grade 3 sorcerer had said over the rim of his beer glass during dinner after a successful mission. c'mon, l/n. let me show you a fun night out.

his words play over and over in your ears like a song that's stuck in your head. or wise words that you're ignoring. which they probably were, because that man is the type of person that someone like you should be giving attention to.

kato was the type of man that most women in jujutsu society would be striving for—competent, reliable, and a capable sorcerer. he was right in the middle in terms of ability, not embarrassingly weak yet not overtly strong. he didn't take too many missions but remained useful within his capacity.

the worst part about all of this is was that you knew better. you saw the more suitable choice, and he wanted you, but that wasn't where your desire led you to. they say ignorance is bliss and you’ve never known anything truer. if you could be completely unaware of the stupid decisions you make then maybe it wouldn't be so shameful. but you know. you know what you’re doing.

thank you so much, you had courteously said to the grade 3 sorcerer. i appreciate it, really, i do. but i don't think i'd be a very good partner for you, kato. please, there are other women better for you.

because while you had spent your day on a mission to eliminate a curse user, here you were entangled with the worst of the worst.

suguru getou. one of the four special grade sorcerers. the most dangerous curse user alive currently. a threat to the world as you know it.

there he was, in the outskirts of tokyo, walking into your hotel room as you waited on the bed in your towel fresh out the shower. his cursed energy overwhelmed you with its intensity even when he kept it at bay. anyone else in your position would use this opportunity to eliminate him. to be rid of this threat once and for all. to free gojo satoru from the burden of his precious classmate.

you were from the kyoto school so you never knew the full story of getou’s downfall as a jujutsu sorcerer. he never told you, either. all he's divulged to you was that the cycle as a sorcerer ate away at his soul and he knew that he'd be left with nothing if he continued on that way. that this society would allow him to rot just for their idea of a better good—of upholding their views as they did nothing for the non-sorcerers who continuously caused curses to manifest.

in the deepest and darkest parts of your mind, you agreed with getou. they called him deranged and unhinged as a way to other him and prevent sorcerers from really thinking of what he believes in and why. to write off his ideals as the makings of a lunatic who couldn't handle his duties and lost his mind. instead of facing the truth and seeing a young man that was pushed to this corner of defeat without a supportive hand.

getou was right. while you didn't believe that eliminating non-sorcerers was the answer, you agreed with his principles. not only that, but...

your hands roamed over his wide shoulders, feeling up the hard muscles beneath the soft fabric of his robes. the mere smell of sandalwood on his skin made you dizzy. you began to undo his robes and they fell apart on your palms like silk.

"it's been too long, hasn't it?" getou panted, unraveling your soft towel and kissing along your throat. "I can tell how much you need this. I do too.”

"getou...please..." you mewled. you had no idea what you wanted exactly, just that you wanted him.

he grabbed your jaw firmly, pressing his thick fingers into your delicate skin. "nuh uh. say my name, we aren't strangers."

"suguru," you gasped. "suguru— i want your mouth...”

he peppered hurried kisses along your neck before going down the center of your chest and navel. his kisses were wet and hot, desperate things full of desire. suguru nosed along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, leaving mean little nips, before going in and running the flat of his tongue over your cunt.

“I’ve been thinking about you every single day,” he mutters, groaning when you squirm beneath him. always so sensitive. “fuck, you like that?.”

he’s already drunk on the divine taste of your pussy. he loops his arms under your thighs and keeps them spread open for him while he eats your pussy. he can imagine men burning cities down just for a taste of you, and the thought makes him suck on your clit with vigor. he laps up that leaking cunt, relishing in the way your back arches pretty for him. your hands rake through his dark hair and begin to push him down harshly against your core. the force of it turns him on so fucking much.

you begin to use him solely for your pleasure and suguru takes pleasure in that. he likes you a little selfish. a diligent sorceress like you deserves to think of herself like this for once. he always thinks you sacrifice too much for those who don’t deserve it. so, he continues at it until you’re pulsing around his tongue. he drinks up all your juices with a rough moan.

a messy kiss later that leaves your lips glossy with the wetness of your own cunt, suguru flips you over on your stomach. the curse user gives your bum a light slap to signal you to raise your hips so he can place a pillow underneath. you playfully shake your ass at him as you spread your thighs apart, chuckling when you hear him jerking his cock at the sight. he spreads one of your cheeks apart and gathers saliva on his tongue before spitting directly into your tight hole.

“what a beauty,” suguru says, shallowly inserting his thumb into your pussy over and over. he laughs lightly when you start to grind back on his finger. “I take it you’re ready then?”

“hurry up!”

“tsk. don’t get bratty with me or I’ll really make you cry.”

it’s not an empty threat and you’ve made the mistake of pushing his buttons. as desperate as he’s been tonight, you know he’ll gather all the patience in him just to edge you and leave you aching to come, only to deny it over and over. he’s licked the tears from your face with a menacing chuckle until you sobbed and apologized for acting out.

an esteemed sorceress like you crying for a despicable curse user. the joke that’s called your life really wrote itself. you relax as you hear him take the condom out of your discarded pants pocket.

you can’t help but think of the first time he realized you required him to wear protection. his nose had wrinkled the first time you handed him a condom from the inner pocket of your jacket. a monkey made this, he had said. I almost don’t even want to touch let, let alone roll it down my dick. you don’t take birth control?

no, I don’t. you shook your head, deciding to explain to him why. half naked and kneeling before each other in bed. that if anyone would understand it’d be him. it’s common for birth control to disrupt our cursed energy and even our techniques. some sorcerers even have intense side effects because of of this disruption.

suguru hummed, rubbing at his chin with curiosity. they don’t make birth control for us? after all these years?

oh, he’s gonna hate this. nope, jujutsu society actually looks down on birth control. I’ve realized that it’s not even about traditional views, I think they just want us to pop out more sorcerers for them.

as expected, suguru’s face has darkened at this. you remember thinking that now you lost your chance of getting laid. you smiled and gave him a lighthearted shove on the shoulder.

so unless you’re developing your own safe condoms, you’re wearing this. take it or leave it, getou.

and he did. he sighed dramatically and grumbled as he did so, but there was a teasing glint in his eyes and a smile breaking through his cloudy expression. now, you turn your head back at suguru as he rolls the large condom down his thick cock without fuss. it’s something he doesn’t think about after all of your trysts.

suguru drapes his larger body over yours, crooning in your ear as he teases the head over the drooling lips of your pussy. the stretch of his thick meat always takes some time getting used to but you wouldn’t have it any either way. in these rooms under various aliases with the enemy.

you whimper as he slowly slides his cock inside you. “open up for me,” suguru whispers, placing comforting kisses over your shoulder and neck. “like that. that’s it, baby. you feel—shit—amazing on my cock.”

“it hurts,” you whine into the bedsheets. “you’re too b—” you cut yourself off, not wanting to feed into this showoffs ego. he’s so annoying.

too late. suguru huffed and began nibbling on your ear as he shallowly thrusted the tip in and out of your needy hole. you could feel his smug smirk over your skin. “too what? aw, c’mon, say it.”

you remained stubbornly silent. instead, you chose to bite into the bedsheets and hoped he didn’t hear you whining at his teasing. but suguru was kinder than most thought. he stretched to place a quick kiss to your exposed cheek.

“alright alright, i’ll stop.” he gave in, continuing to feed you his cock. “i’ll give you what you want.”

with a kiss that’s softer than you expected, suguru continued to stretch you out on his cock until he bottomed out with a broken groan. he bit at your shoulder as you adjusted and once you gave the signal to continue, he went at it like a rabid animal.

the heavy weight of his body consumed you and his hair was tickling your arms while he jackhammered his dick into your greedy hole, but there was no one else you’d have this with. suguru knew your body like the back of his hand and he treated you like a treasure that was just for him and him alone.

in these hotel rooms you two allowed your emotions to reign free and acted as lovers who couldn’t get enough of each other.

unbeknownst to you, the fact that it was a week before christmas eve 2017 would one day be vital. one day you’d look back on suguru kissing you post-coital and revealing to you that he wanted to meet you in hokkaido for christmas was just a front. he said he had things to take care of and to go without him, but he’d meet you there.

maybe he had intended to meet you there, but you would never know. grieving the death of getou suguru would be something you suffered through alone.

[universalistotalis]

Good Enough (Part 1)

Meian Shugo x Reader (Haikyuu!!timeskip)

WC: 939

Part 2

Credits to the owner of the picture! @heyheywhey on twitter 💕

Masterlist!

—

It was at his friend’s party that you had your world crumble to pieces.

You never really thought it was possible. All those novels about heartbreak were exaggerated and over the top. That’s what you believed. But no matter how many words or stories you read, nothing ever prepared you for this moment.

“Are you sure about her, Meian? I mean THE Meian Shugo would settle for that?” One of his friends asked while sipping on his wine. “We all know what happened in the past and who you really loved.”

Everyone around their circle was silent, really awaiting for your fiancé’s reply. You were too, except that you weren’t standing with the group. Instead, your body was pressed taut against the wall, hiding, trying to eavesdrop as much from their conversation.

This feeling suddenly washes over you. This cold feeling before the storm that you knew was already brewing. You already saw signs and darkness, lightning strikes and heard ear- ringing thunderclaps. You knew there would be destruction.

“She’s good enough.” His silky voice responded with a shrug of the shoulders. “Ooh’s” and “I knew it’s” surrounded the group then they continued on with their banters.

And you were right. Because at those three words, your world was completely and utterly destroyed. From the calm and silence before the disaster to the messy and noisy outcome of the crushing of your heart, you just stood there, appalled by the swiftness of it all.

So that’s all you’re going to be, isn’t it? Just good enough. To him, you were convenient. A person good enough to fill the space. A person good enough to be a presentable wife. A person good enough to pass the time.

You stare at the glittering band on your finger, suddenly doubting the dazzling man that you loved for years. Did he ever see you as yourself? Or did he imagine her instead?

All of your dates, the idle times you would spend together, even the nights that you held each other, ran through your head in fast forward but everything around you moved in slow motion. There was a ringing in your ears that seemed to amplify with every memory you had with him. Or were they now lies he made to you? It was always her! You should’ve known it will never be you!

Your feet took little steps to the exit. One by one until it turned into sprints that lead you outside, away from his pretentious friends, away from him.

Love is funny. Love is a bastard. It lets you wear rose- colored glasses for the whole show and it doesn’t let you take them off until it’s too late. Until you’re in so deep. Until you’re broken beyond repair. You thought he loved you as much as you did him. You thought his heart beats your name because that’s what he said. But that’s just what he wanted to believe.

Meian Shugo was one hell of a man. A gentleman, jack-of-all-trades, man of his word, a leader of the pack… he was everything you prayed for and ever wanted.

But he’s also a coward who’s scared of living his life alone. Someone who could not muster up the courage to move on from his first love who left him shattered. Someone who picks a naive girl like you to be a replacement for his missing pieces.

And you let him. My god, you let him.

The searing pain in your heart sizzled and it eventually burned as you turned around at the mention of your name. There he was, Meian, in all his glory, panting and making his way towards you.

“Baby, hey, where are you going? Are you alright? I saw you bolt out the room and I—“ His eyes were searching, reading your state. Frown lines marred his forehead as he took your distressed form in. “What’s wrong, love? Tell me.”

His touches used to soothe all your worries and insecurities away. They used to chase away all your demons. But now, as he threaded his fingertips on your hair, you felt nothing but utter betrayal.

“You never loved me.” Your whisper was crisp in the cold night air. “You’ll never love me.”

“Hey, baby, hey.” He bowed down, leveling both your heights to look you straight in the eyes. “What are you talking about? You’re scaring me. What happened? What’s wrong?”

And that’s when the goddamn floodgates opened. Small sobs turned to a full-on breakdown of fits and tears.

“I can’t do this. I don’t deserve this.” You managed to choke out as you pushed your way out of his hold. The engagement ring was heavy on your finger and you wanted nothing to do with it. The big, bright diamond that once shone with love, now blinded you with lies and deceit. With hands shaking, you took it off and handed it to him. “It’s not me you want to give that to.”

“What—“ He tried to make sense of the situation but panic and bile were rising up his throat. Tears were pricking his eyes as he still tried to get a hold of your hand, body visibly shaking.

“Stop, Meian.” You commanded, taking a step back and glaring at him. He, then, froze on the spot. “You’re hurting the both of us. Just fucking stop.”

You never knew how you got into the backseat of a cab, eyes blurring with tears, on the way to anywhere else but his side. But you did.

Until now, you’re still contemplating if what you did was right. But then again, it was for the best.

—

Part 2

—

Masterlist!

HEY HEY HEEEEEY!!! This has been in my drafts for quite a long time and I just had to get it out there HAHAHA also, i’ve been craving angst lately because I have a knack for hurting myself. It has to stop, really, but well, here we are.

Tell me what you think about this? 🥺

Also, do we need another part? LOL We’ll never knooooow!!!

But HEY, in real life, if you see the red flags, get the fuck out, alright?! We deserve green flags all the way! You deserve the best, beautiful! 🟩🟩🟩

Hope you enjoyed this one! Love yall! 💕

Replies and Reblogs are much appreciated!

[rosieofcorona]

In the Blue Morning

BELOVEDS, a soft little Solavellan fic for you. Mostly fluff this time around to soothe the eternal, unyielding hurt. Also on AO3, if you prefer. As always, thank you for reading. 💕

She cajoles him, some mornings, away from his office, from his maps and his books and his paintings and out among the newly-planted gardens, all their tight, unfurling blooms. 

It’s always empty at this hour, when most of Skyhold is still asleep save for the guards in their high towers, the recruits in the practice yard. The only sound is the clang of their swords ringing through the mist like distant bells, the only light the pink and gold of the nascent sun.

They have been careful, desperately careful not to draw undue attention, not to generate rumors that could harm the Inquisition in the future. It is easier on the road to find a quiet moment alone– to steal a kiss or hold a hand or put words to their love– but the castle, however safe, is full of eyes, forever watching.

It is only in the narrow, muted hours before dawn that Solas weaves his fingers with hers as they orbit the courtyard, side by side.

He names the blossoms as they pass, first in the trade tongue and then in Elvish, the softened syllables like music on his tongue. She repeats them half as gracefully, but he smiles at every attempt, correcting her gently now and again, praising her efforts.

“Gail’lealis,” he says, pointing out an elegant bellflower, its blue-white petals bundled tightly in green sepals.

It sounds off, even to her ear, when she says, “Ga’lealis,” back.

They pause for a moment, and Solas turns and bends and plucks an early bloom from the same plant, rotating it slowly between his fingers, holding it up for examination. 

“Ga-il,” he repeats softly, separating the sounds. “Meaning ‘bell,’ in the common parlance.” 

“Ga-il,” she says again, correctly this time. 

“Followed by lealis, meaning ‘glass.’”

“Gail’lealis.”

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, tucking the flower behind her ear, the meaning vague yet all-encompassing. It is all beautiful– the morning, the garden, how she catches the light, his ancient language in her mouth, her mouth– 

Solas kisses her in the empty courtyard, parts her lips with a linguist’s tongue, and she kisses him back again and again as if each time might be the last. He wants to stay like this forever, wants the sun to forget to rise, wants the castle to sleep and sleep in an endless dream.

But the light keeps coming, every moment. The castle will wake, and they will see. 

And this will cost them, in the end. 

She is pink as the sky when they finally come apart, and continue their long walk around. 

“I hear you were out here yesterday,” she says, breaking the silence as they turn a corner. “Cullen says you beat him soundly at chess.” 

“It was a closer game than he thinks,” Solas says, but she has learned when he’s just being modest.

“Must not have been that close, because Bull says the same. As do Blackwall, and Varric, and Dorian, though he swears that you cheated.”  “I did no such thing!” 

When they turn again, the chessboard in question comes into full view, set and waiting on its table beneath an awning. 

“He seemed very certain,” she shrugs. “Though I suppose I could find out for myself.”

They stop again before the table, and Solas looks at her intently.  “Is that a challenge, dear Inquisitor?”

“That depends on your level of skill.”

She’s teasing him now, enticing him, a dynamic he’s come to enjoy. There are so few who impress him with thoughtfulness, who make him work at being clever.

“Very well, but you should know that I am merciless,” he warns, a contradiction to the chivalry of pulling out her chair. “Even to one I love.”

He takes the seat opposite her, the board and the pieces adorned in glittering dew. 

“I believe the Lady Inquisitor moves first.”

**********

He sets a dozen little traps for her, a dozen clever gambits, and she evades them every time, to his astonishment. Where he moves to attack, she counters; where he baits her, she defends or retreats. By the end, with the sun fully risen overhead, they reach a deadlock, both depleted, neither victorious.

“Again?” She asks cheerfully, when they’ve finished. Already she is freeing her captives from his end of the table. “Don’t look so stunned, my love. Unless you’re trying to offend me.”

“Forgive me, vhenan,” he says, shaking his head. “You surprise me as always. It is rare to find an opponent so…discerning.” 

His beloved laughs with the morning breeze, a sound like air that surrounds and envelops him. 

“Rare to find one you can’t beat, you mean.” 

She’s right, of course– it is rare that he loses, even rarer that he plays against someone so evenly matched. He still can’t quite puzzle through it, where he went wrong, where she figured him out. 

He had gotten a lead on her early on, or so he thought– he had taken a tower, a mage, and two pawns– and left his queen open for the taking, which she had entirely ignored. She caught onto him quickly, though too late to win, and when she realized she couldn’t beat him, she had blocked him instead. 

Solas leans thoughtfully back in his chair, replaying their game in his mind. No matter how he tries to beat her, he finds no way through. She sees his scheming, sees him coming, cuts him off. 

“Why did you not take my queen, given the chance?”

“Because you gave me the chance,” she reasons. “You wouldn’t do that except to win.” 

“It could have been a tactical error.”  “It wasn’t,” she says assuredly, resetting the pieces along their battle lines. “If I had taken her, it would have left my king undefended from your mages.”  “You could have moved him.”  “For a turn or two. Then your knight would have circled back. Isn’t that right?” She looks up at Solas, her eyes smiling and sharp, affirmed in her answer already. “Or shall we call that a ‘tactical error?’”

“Mm,” Solas nods his approval. “You’ve become quite the strategist. Have you been spending time with our Commander?”

“I’ve been spending time with you,” she counters. “Learning all your little tricks.”

Not all, it occurs to him, but Solas smothers the thought with a laugh. “It seems to me you have a few of your own.” 

“Our Keeper used to call me harellan,” she tells him. “Trickster. Though I needn’t explain that to you.”

He fights to keep the easy expression on his face, feeling suddenly caught in the snare of her gaze, as if she sees directly through him, sees him fully, all he is.

Harellan, his mind echoes. How could she know?

The wait for her judgment feels infinite, inevitable– but it does not come, and does not come, and does not come. She only moves a white pawn toward the board’s center, the leaves rustling softly around them. 

No, he decides. She does not know. She only means he knows the word. 

Solas mirrors her opening move, their pawns face to face on the battlefield. “And still, your Keeper named you her First.” 

“I was more troublesome as a child,” she says, with a grin that implies that the mischief has never left her. “I’ve settled down a great deal since. Can’t you tell?”

This time, when Solas laughs, there is nothing else hiding beneath it. No uneasy feeling, no great fear that she will discover him, cast him out. There is only happiness for a moment, the war reduced to a board between them, as if sorrow and death are nowhere, and the end of the world is far away.

[jtargaryen18]

His Inheritance ~ Chapter 6

Part 6: What We Need

Series Masterlist

Words: 3.6k

Pairing: Mobster Steve Rogers x Mobster daughter reader

Warnings: References to mafia families. References to arranged marriage. Potentioal infidelity. References to crime family violence. Coercion. This is a dark fic. Please read responsibly.

Disclaimer: The author of this work claims no ownership of characters aside from the reader, and original secondary characters mentioned. This work is not intended for those under the age of 18 due to explicit sexual content and darker themes. By reading this work or any works on my blog (jtargaryen18), you agree that you are at least 18 years of age. I do not consent to have my work hosted on any third party app or site. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but archiveofourown and tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission.

Summary: For @alexakeyloveloki. Your father is the head of one of the most powerful crime families in Boston but he’s protected you from that life. In your quiet home outside the city, you’ve been cared for and protected. When the desires of a more powerful man with the will to dominate bursts into your life, all your illusions are shattered as he comes to claim what is his.

A/N: Thank you to @brazen-impudence for the absolutely beautiful mood board I'm using for this chapter. 🙏💕

~~~

The soft notes of Chopin’s Fantaisie-Impromptu greeted you when you stepped out of your room and headed for the stairs for dinner. It was just after six. You just knew if you made him wait any longer, there’d be another confrontation.

Not that the one earlier today was so terrible…

No. You weren’t going to think about that kiss. Again.

Dyson waited at the foot of the stairs, looking dapper in his gray suit and red tie. He flashed you a warning look as you descended.

His gaze assessed you, fatherly where Steve’s was…

Stop.

You’d made an effort. You wore dark slacks, a nice blouse. You’d dressed up, hoping it would earn you points. You put on makeup, did your hair. You could tell yourself all you wanted that you weren’t trying to be attractive for Steve but…

“You look lovely,” Dyson told you as reached the bottom of the stairs.

As he always did, he directed you. Gesturing towards the living room, you expected to see Clint playing the piano, the dining room table beyond it set. All was as you expected.

But Steve stood next to the piano, talking to two newcomers. One was a beautiful woman with red hair and a winning smile. Next to her was a man with curly dark hair and a deep voice. His dark eyes were friendly when he noticed your arrival.

With everyone’s attention on you, you took a deep breath and made your way over to them. You didn’t miss the way Steve’s gaze moved slowly over you.

“There she is,” he said finally, wrapping an arm around your shoulder when you reached him and pulling you into his side like it was habit.

“You finally get to meet my sister, Natasha,” Steve told you as she switched her champagne glass to her left hand to offer you her right.

She was impossibly more beautiful close up. You shook her hand, told her it was nice to meet her.

“And her husband, Bruce Banner,” Steve continued.

You also shook his hand, his firm grip reminding you of your father.

“I’m sorry about your father,” Bruce said after a moment. “He helped me out when I graduated college. Put me on the path to being a consigliere.”

Okay, you’d seen The Godfather. He was a mafia lawyer then?

Some confusion must have shown on your face. Natasha laughed, taking a sip of her champagne. “He’s Steve’s consigliere,” she amended. “And a good one.”

“That he is,” Steve conceded. “Which reminds me, Bruce. We need to discuss a couple of things. Why don’t we knock that out now so we can enjoy the rest of the evening?”

Bruce nodded. “Lead the way.”

“We won’t be long,” Steve told you, brushing a kiss on your forehead before leading Bruce off to his study.

That left you right in Natasha’s sites. While her gaze was as razor sharp as her brother’s, her smile was disarming and warm.

“You are not what I expected,” she told you, motioning to the plush sofa and taking a seat. When she motioned for you to join her, you did.

“I can imagine what you expected,” you told her.

A young man wandered in from the kitchen, a fresh tray of loaded champagne flutes balanced on it. You accepted one from him, needing the courage it offered.

“Did you know?” she asked you.

You took your time, sipping at the fizzy drink.

“Did I know my father told everyone I was Quasimodo?” When Natasha laughed, you shook your head. “No. I didn’t.”

“Then I guess the first time you met Steve was a bit of a surprise,” she mused.

“That’s putting it lightly,” you told her. “Until that day, I didn’t know I was supposed to be horribly disfigured. I also didn’t know my father was dying.”

Some realization lit up her face at that. “You know, I wondered why…”

“Why he didn’t go shoot him in the head that day?”

You’d caught her off guard, but she recovered quickly.

“That was his intention,” Natasha told you. “I’m starting to see now why he didn’t.”

What did she mean by that?

“You just might be a very good match for my brother.”

“Well, that’s good,” you told her, downing more of your champagne. “It’s not like I have a choice anyway.”

Something softened her expression. Her eyes were kind. Her gaze cut back to Clint at the piano and back to you.

“That I do understand,” she said quietly.

You didn’t have long to wonder what that meant. As if he sensed her attention, Clint glanced back at Natasha over his shoulder. He didn't miss a note he played, on to the Clair de Lune now. Something about his fond gaze…

“I was supposed to marry your brother, you know,” she threw out there.

“That’s what I heard,” you said. “I’m sorry. I hope you got to choose your husband after all that.”

Oh. Oh. Something about the way she tried to school her features told you that… maybe she didn’t.

“Being married to the consigliere is a pretty good life,” she explained, downing the rest of her flute, and signaling to the young man with the tray to bring her another. She plucked two off that tray and handed one to you.

Grinning, you drained your first and set it on the elegant glass coffee table. You took the second from her, grateful.

“We’re very comfortable,” she went on. “And Bruce is a successful lawyer so it’s relatively safe.”

You didn’t need the reminder that your soon-to-be husband was a crime boss. You’d live your life on the edge of disaster. Sure, Dyson assured you that Steve was too clever to get caught.

If you’d really loved him, maybe the risk would even be worth it. But you weren’t here by choice. The risk just made a hard-to-accept situation that much worse.

“Do you have any children?” you asked.

Natasha dropped her gaze and you felt like an inconsiderate ass for asking. When her gaze returned to you, again she schooled her features. She seemed to be thinking of an answer.

“I’m sorry,” you told her. “Not my business.”

Your apology seemed to surprise her.

“It’s okay,” she said softly. “We’re going to be sisters after all… No. We don’t.”

You weren’t about to continue that line of conversation.

“Are you ready for the wedding?” she asked, redirecting the conversation.

You shrugged. “As ready as I’m ever going to be.”

You’d been fitted for your dress, your veil. You had outfits for the rehearsal dinner, for life after the ceremony.

Natasha’s gaze went to your left hand, her expression kind.

“But you’re all alone, aren’t you?” she asked quietly.

It was the truth.

“We need to think about this,” Natasha told you. It was then you noticed Dyson had wandered into the room standing next to the young man with the tray of champagne. “Yes, this marriage is important for Steve. For this family. But how it goes is important for you too. It matters how we do this.”

That she said “we” got your attention.

“Do you have any close friends who could be your maid-of-honor or bridesmaids?”

You had acquaintances. Girls who’d been the kids of your tutors, the servants. It wasn’t like you hung out with them ever.

“No one I know any better than you,” you admitted.

“Someone should give away the bride,” Natasha went on, her investment in your upcoming marriage growing. “Do you know anyone?”

You shook your head. Your gaze landed on Dyson as you felt tears sting the backs of your eyes.

“I’d be proud to walk you up the aisle,” the older man who was probably the closest thing you’d ever had to a friend told you. “If you’ll have me. If it’s okay with Steve.”

You couldn’t have said why. You burst into tears at that, more grateful than you could say. Dyson looked panicked. Natasha was next to you in an instant, putting your flutes to the side on the table and pulling you into her arms.

“Would that be okay?” she asked you, holding onto you.

“Yes,” you managed through your tears. You managed to meet Dyson’s gaze. “Thank you.”

Natasha eased back from you. “I’ll be your matron-of-honor. I’ll ask a couple of my friends to be your bridesmaids. We’ll get the stylists back, get dresses made.”

Why was she trying so hard to help you?

Instead of speaking the question, you hugged her in your gratitude. “That… would be wonderful.”

Dyson’s eyes were suspiciously shiny. “I’ll go call them, set up another appointment. I’ll get myself a suit made up.”

“Thank you,” Natasha bid him as he bustled off.

You looked up just in time to see a glance pass between Natasha and Clint, who’d stopped playing and sat straddling the bench in front of the piano. The silent connection between the two was intimate, made you feel like you were intruding.

“Hey,” Natasha told you, drawing your attention back to her. “It’s all going to work out.”

You felt so fragile under those sympathetic gazes.

“I don’t care if it does,” you whispered, hoping the boy with his tray and Clint didn’t catch that.

Cautiously gazing around the room, Natasha tipped up your chin so you’d meet her gaze.

While she kept a smile on her face, it didn’t match the urgency in her tone. “You should. You’re in danger in this world. People will want to hurt you because of who your father was. Yeah, he led the families for decades and most loved him. But he was no saint. He made enemies.”

No matter how many times you tried to envision your father as a mob boss, someone feared, you just couldn’t. Your father had been a confident man, kind to you. In truth, you hadn’t known him all that well. You hadn’t seen him often though he spared no expense on your care.

It didn’t occur to you until after he died that there was more than one reason behind the protected life of isolation he’d provided you. He’d told everyone you were disfigured and that kept them away from you.

What kept him away from you? He lost his wife and son that day in the wreck. Only you had survived, and you had no scars, physical or otherwise, to show for it. Did being around you hurt too much? Remind him of his losses?

It has everything to do with her.

What happened between Bucky Barnes’ family and yours?

“And you’ll be Steve’s wife,” she went on quietly. “It might not be life you pictured for yourself, but my brother can keep you safe.”

“He has enemies too.”

She didn’t deny it.

“How am I going to do this?” you wanted to know.

“Like you said, you don’t really have a choice,” she pointed out. “You’ll just do it.”

Grabbing your flute, you downed it in record time. It was your second on an empty stomach.

“That’s the spirit,” she told you.

When the piano started playing again, you shouldn’t have been surprised to see Steve and Bruce strolling back into the room a beat later.

“Already making your new sister-in-law cry, Nat?” Steve was only half joking, his gaze intent on you.

You shook your head in denial.

“Wedding nerves,” Nat explained away with an easy charm. “We all get them.”

“Do we?” Steve drank from the glass of liquor in his hand. “I’m looking forward to it myself.”

You could almost feel his lips on yours, the memory of him cornering you in your room burned into your mind. You knew one thing he was looking forward to.

You weren’t about to admit that maybe you were too.

But physical attraction? Sex? There was a big difference between that and love, a lasting relationship. You’d never have that with him. And thanks to him, you’d never have it with anyone else. Not while he lived.

“Dinner’s ready,” Luca’s voice was booming from the kitchen.

Steve’s gaze locked with yours. “Shall we?”

***

After a lengthy dinner and more drinks, you hugged Nat goodbye. With Steve, you walked your future in-laws to the door. The snow was falling again. Would it ever end?

Luca had cleaned up the kitchen and gone to bed some time ago, as had Dyson and the rest of the staff. Clint had disappeared earlier than that, right after dinner started.

Now you were alone with Steve…

Feigning a yawn, you decided to try and end the night. You wanted nothing more than to escape to the solace of your bedroom. Today had been one hell of an emotional rollercoaster.

“Thank you for dinner,” you told him as politely as you could manage. “I think I’m going to go to bed.”

Oh, the look he cut you. Bad choice of words.

But he smiled indulgently. “Just a minute. Now that it’s just us, I have something I want to give you.”

You hesitated a beat, giving him time to steer you towards the sofa. He sat next to you there, your backs to the snow-frosted window. The blaze in the fireplace still warming the room, making it glow with the lights dimmed.

Reaching into the pocket of his black slacks, he pulled out just what you expected to see. The dark red ring box looked small in his hand, his gaze locking with yours.

A corner of his mouth curved up into a smirk. “You know it would help if you didn’t look scared to death.”

Shame flooded you at the words. It was true.

“I’m trying,” you assured him weakly.

“You are,” he admitted. “Dinner was nice. My sister really likes you.”

You did like Natasha. Just maybe you’d have her and Dyson as allies in this new life.

“I just hope one day, you like me,” he told you.

What did he expect you to say to that?

Slowly, he opened the ring box to reveal a stunning sapphire solitaire with tiny diamonds placed artfully around it. Plucking the dainty ring out of the box, Steve carefully captured your left hand in his, sliding the ring onto your finger.

It did fit perfectly, winking like a beautiful star off your hand.

Steve spoke your name quietly. “Since it’s already been agreed upon that we’re getting married…”

Maybe it was the wine – and the champagne -- you’d been drinking all evening. You met his gaze squarely.

“I didn’t agree to that,” you told him.

“I’m asking you to obey me at all times because your safety depends on it,” he said carefully. “And I’m asking you to just… give me a chance.”

The sincerity he put in those words shook you up a little, had you searching his face for any trace of a lie.

Why was he even bothering to say all this? You both knew the marriage was to benefit him and his position in leading the crime families of Boston. A trophy wife to pop out a couple of kids for him was all you were.

How dare he look at you like you were something he valued beyond that? If he thought he was going to use pretty words to bend you to his will, he had another thinking coming.

When you shook your head, he blew out a frustrated exhale.

“I get that the obedience part is going to be difficult for you,” he threw in.

You couldn’t help it, you laughed.

“Don’t act like this is some love story unfolding,” you warned him as your mirth faded. “From where I’m sitting, the last thing I should do is give you a chance.”

Steve looked taken aback and you went on.

“We both know why you’re marrying me, and it’s got nothing to do with love. If this is my life now, then I’d very much like to be realistic about it.”

You expected him to be pissed off. Any variation of it.

What you didn’t expect was the subtle way he shifted just a little closer to you on the sofa, the heated way his gaze roamed over you.

“You want realism, huh?”

“It’s what I need,” you told him, edging away from him on the couch.

You were in dangerous territory here. The subtle notes of amber and cedar in his cologne were enticing, warm as he was. Again, he shifted to be closer to you, hemming you in at the corner of the couch. The light from the fireplace lit up his handsome face, blazing on the shiny surface of his silver tie. His blue eyes were heated, moving over your face and hair covetously.

“There are things I need too,” he whispered, his gaze dropping to your left hand, his ring on your finger. “I need this marriage to take place. I swear to God if ceremony wasn’t so important to everyone, I’d have gotten you in front of a justice of the peace by now.”

You swallowed hard. “You’re that eager to take my father’s place.”

“It’s what I’ve always wanted,” he said quietly. “Like you pointed out, I could probably take his seat even without this marriage. I’d planned to. But what I need is more of you.”

Planting one muscular arm on the arm of the couch you were backed into and one on the cushion by your hip, he caged you into the corner. You expected him to come at you like a wild man, greedy.

The kiss was the softest caress, the petals of his lips against yours, the soft brush of his beard. Steve took his time, enticing you with slow movements, a gentle hand. Within seconds, you were moving with him, tasting his lips as he sampled yours. When his arm curled around your waist to pull you closer, you didn’t fight him. The linen of his fine shirt felt so soft and warm as your hand skimmed up his powerful forearm, over the hard muscle of his bicep. As his kiss grew more demanding, you parted your lips for him. Steve tasted like cognac, power, and deep longing.

The passion in that kiss had your mind spinning. Steve was gorgeous. He felt good, so good. If you were going to be forced to marry, it could be far worse, and you knew it. Sure, he was ambitiously seeking to lead the crime families of Boston. But it was an opulent life and you’d be cared for in the manner you’d always been.

And this? This wasn’t so bad, was it?

Until he goes back to other women.

Until he gets what he wants.

But it was so hard to care about that when your hands were sliding up the solid wall of his chest, into the fine silk of his hair. He moaned deeply at that touch and you felt it all through your body, currents of pleasure and desire racing through every part of you, centering low in your belly. His kisses were like the champagne you’d enjoyed all evening, sweet and intoxicating.

His large hands roamed over your back and hips, up into your hair. When his lips blazed a trail across to your jaw and down over the delicate skin below your ear, you were fighting to get closer to him. It took your breath away…

“Steve!” Dyson yelled, his booming steps heading in your direction fast.

Steve’s glare was murderous as he reluctantly eased away from you, turning to see why his man was heading towards you with such urgency.

Dyson’s gaze flew over both of you as he came to a stop just a few feet away. Putting his hands up, he said, “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t…”

“What?” Steve asked with a huff.

“It’s Clint,” Dyson told him. “He’s been hit.”

You felt Steve tense next to you, his hand curled around yours.

Your heart flew in your chest. Didn’t that mean he’d been shot? Hurt in some way?

“Is he alive?” Steve demanded.

Dyson nodded. “For now.”

Sending up a small prayer of thanks, you blew out an exhale. There was hope.

Steve’s gaze flew to you and back to Dyson. “Get everyone in my study in ten minutes,” he told him. “I’ll need a driver so get Scott.”

Dyson nodded. “Will do.”

Rising from the couch, Steve motioned to you to join him. “Go to your room. Don’t leave it, no matter what you hear. Do you understand?”

To Dyson, he said, “I want my best guards here. Two outside her door, two on the ground. They don’t leave until it’s cleared by me. Got it?”

“Anything you say, boss,” Dyson told him, shuffling off to set Steve’s plans in motion.

Steve took you up the stairs to your room himself. With his hand on the doorknob, he leaned in to steal one last kiss. Your heart hammered in your chest, beating out a wild tattoo of desire, fear, and apprehension.

“If you need anything,” he told you with his forehead pressed to yours, “text Dyson. Kill the lights and stay away from the windows. Okay?”

You nodded, growing more fearful by the second.

“What will you do?” you asked him.

“I need to protect you first and foremost,” he said meaningfully. “And I need to find out what happened. Don’t worry yourself about this. Try to get some sleep.”

With that, he opened the door for you and closed it behind you firmly once you entered the solace of your bedroom.

You just no longer wanted that solace.

[ynscrazylife]

Hi, hi! First off, I love your writing and your account and I just want you to know I’m so glad I found you and I love you. 💕 Second off, I was hoping I could make a Kara x reader request for the jess celebration. I don’t know exactly what I want I just know I would love to see some pre-wedding fluff like maybe going to pick out a venue and cake tasting and some other cute stuff like that.

Fiancées-To-Be-Wed | k.d fluff fic

Summary: Y/N and Kara plan their wedding.

Authors Note: Thank you for requesting! My apologies that this is not as long as my other fics. Feel free to request it to be longer!

Request to be on a taglist (or multiple) here! (Taglists are at the end of the fic)

DCEU Masterlist |  Main Masterlist 

PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of these works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me first and b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.

header c @/melbenoiststuff

“Y/N, wake up!”

Normally Y/N would adore to be pulled from her slumber by the lovely and charming voice of her girlfriend—no, wait, fiancé, now (god, that being true after so long was like a dream. The previous night a fairytale)—, but this was one of those times where it fell in the abnormal.

Frankly, she was exhausted, and as much as she loved her fiancé, her all-too-excited words acted as a startling alarm rather than her usual charming hum of a bird. Y/N groaned into the pillow, hoping that that would give Kara the hint, but alas, it didn’t.

“Don’t errumph me, missie! You gotta get up,” she continued.

Y/N cracked an eye open, her vision half-filled with her pillow and half-filled with the lamp on her bedside table. Kara was persistent, she’d give her that. She rolled from her stomach onto her back and her blonde-haired beauty came into line of view. At the big and jolly grin on her face, Y/N couldn’t help but smile, too . . . It was contagious!

“Care to enlighten me on why you’ve woken me up at the ungodly hour of-” Y/N started to ask, but had to pause to look at her phone for the time. Her previous joking tone dropped when she saw that it was noon. “-the, ah, middle of the day?”

Kara made a very poor attempt to conceal her laughter and Y/N grumbled under her breath.

“Well, we gotta start our wedding planning, silly!” The blonde said, bouncing up and down on the bed, and jostling Y/N as well.

“Darling,” she said calmly, but firmly, effectively calming down the Kryptonian. “While I am beyond thrilled for our wedding, don’t you think we should have today for us? Not just jump straight into planning when the wedding will probably be in a couple—mmmmphhmm!”

Her sentence was cut off when Kara leaned down and captured her lips in a fierce kiss. Y/N quickly melted into it, wrapping her arms around her fiancé, before she said when they parted, “Is that a no?”

Kara nodded, wearing a goofy grin.

— — — — — — — — — — — — —

“Mmmmph. Mmm mmmmm mmm mm!”

Y/N tilted her head forward slightly and furrowed her eyebrows. She swallowed the scrumptious piece of cake in her mouth. “Uh, non-cookie monster please?”

Kara huffed and, after a couple seconds of dramatic chewing and chomping, swallowed her mouthful of goodness and repeated, “I said, this is my favorite!”

Y/N smiled against her glass as she took a sip of water, shaking her head slightly, amused. “You’ve said that about each one you tasted.”

Kara pouted. “What? No, I haven’t!” She denied.

“Yes—” Alex said, then took a quick bite of her piece. “—You have.”

Kara glared at her older sister and turned to Nia.

At her shrug, the superhero dramatically dropped her knife and fork on her plate, causing Y/N to bite back a laugh.

“You guys suck,” she mumbled, and then turned to Y/N. “You like this one, don’t you?!”

Y/N nodded. “I do,” she confirmed, but then spotted the next piece of cake arriving. “But I want you to take a bite and then look me in the eyes and tell me that that’s not your favorite.”

Kara eagerly nodded, up to the challenge. When she stuffed her face with a big bite, Y/N eyed her carefully, and Alex and Nia erupted into laughter when Kara looked absolutely helpless.

— — — — — — — — — — — — —

“Are you ready yet?” Alex called out from the waiting room, bored.

“Is Kara out there?” Y/N called back, twisting and turning as she admired herself in the mirror. This outfit was her absolutely favorite one so far. She could envision herself walking down the aisle in it.

There was a brief pause, and what Y/N didn’t know was that in the moment the woman in question quickly ducked behind the sofa.

Alex looked at her sister warily. “No!” She called back, but it was more phrased as a question.

The moment Y/N emerged, Alex’s jaw dropped and Nia let out a loud, uncontrollable gasp, which effectively broke Kara’s patience. She went to pop up from her hiding spot, but mid-way was intercepted by Nia, who tackled her friend to the floor.

Y/N blinked. “Kar-a!” She yelped.

“I’M SORRY!” Kara screeched.

— — — — — — — — — — — — —

“As much as I’d love for this to be what our cake toppers look like—” Y/N started, picking up the image of Kara in her Supergirl suit carrying Y/N. “—This can’t be it.”

Kara rested her head on Y/N’s shoulder, peering down at the photo. “Why not?” She asked.

Y/N softly smiled. “Because we’re going to have guests that don’t know you’re supergirl . . .” She pointed out.

Kara blinked and furrowed her eyebrows. “Who?!” She pushed.

“Uh, my family?” She answered.

“Your parents know—” Kara began to point out.

“My great-uncle doesn’t,” Y/N said.

A beat.

“Why are we inviting him?” Kara asked, and then was quick to add, “No offense.”

Y/N chuckled. “None taken. My mom insisted that we invite him,” she said.

“Why are we listening to her?” Kara persisted.

“Because she’s paying for half the wedding?” Y/N responded.

“Oh,” Kara said. “. . . Right.”

— — — — — — — — — — — — —

“Okay, I just put in the order for the flowers!”

“Roses, right?”

“…”

“Y/N-?”

“I was, uh, able to convince them to recreate the flowers you described on Krypton.”

“…”

“Kara?”

“Oh Rao, I love you.”

Permanent Taglist: @natasharomanoffismywife @hehehehannahthings @paulawand @blackbat2020 @cerberus-spectre @marrymemcgrath @celestialbarnes @kathryndimitrescu @snipyloulou @big-galaxy-chaos @cc13723things @ycfwmalise14 @unexpected-character  (could not tag)  @passionswift

DCEU Taglist: @stephanieromanoff @basiclesbianbitch @hi-i-1 @mmmmokdok @acertainredhead  @thanossexual @avengersz-biotch @kozumeko @un-name-d @kuzomekou-blog

[jakesguitarstring]

does he know || j.t.k.

first fic of the new year?? so exciting! based off a request from @sparrowofthedawnsworld. I'll officially be opening up for requests very soon, so stay tuned for that. <3

summary: ending up in a bar on a karaoke night is definitely a nightmare, until a stranger brightens up the night.

words: 4.7k

masterlist 

taglist: hope 2022 is starting off with positivity for you! @ageofflowerpower @theweightofstardust @mywaysooon @bumblebeeswrite @franciskiszka @dazzlinghazeaboutyouu (please message me to be added 💕💕 )

warnings: this is literally pure smut. like really. (18+ minors dni!), also alcohol consumption.

The music in the bar was obnoxious, to say the least, but at least it was a welcome break from the karaoke that had been going on for the last hour. You rolled your eyes as you watched the karaoke emcee start to make their way back to the table set up with a computer and speakers after a thirty-minute break. It was your own fault for walking into the first bar you found and not even looking it up on Google. You’d just wandered in, plopped yourself down on a stool, and ordered a strong drink. It was a small place, a typical not-quite-a-dive-bar with wood paneling that had clearly been up for forty years and road signs and vintage band posters littering the walls. The air was no longer smokey but had the reminisce of years of heavy smoke that clung heavily in the air. But it was clean and the drinks were okay and cheap and it was good enough to drown your sorrows. The bar had been relatively empty when you’d arrived hours ago, but then the karaoke station had been set up and all of a sudden the bar was packed and the first person up had treated everyone with an off-pitch ‘Hit Me Baby One More Time’ followed by a “Free Britney” scream. And then it was round after round of people’s own renditions of hit songs. You couldn’t help the eye rolls or the groans that it seemed you had no control over. You couldn’t blame everyone else for having a good time, it wasn’t their fault that you were miserable, but still, did they have to be so loud and annoying about it. You ordered another drink, still barely feeling buzzed.

About thirty minutes ago, a group of loud guys had tumbled into the bar, ordered drinks, and had been adding to the overall noise and commotion of the bar. Once the bartender set your drink in front of you, you decided this would be your last one and would head out for the night, although you weren’t sure where because going home wasn’t an option. The first notes of ‘All Star’ by Smash Mouth started up and you wanted to leave right then and there, but you’d already ordered your drink. You glanced over at the makeshift stage to see two long-haired guys sharing the mic to scream-sing along and recognized them as part of the group of four that had come in earlier. “Hey, can I get another round of shots please.” A voice said next to you, but you didn’t bother looking over. “Yeah, same as before. Thanks so much, Ollie. You’re the best.” You felt his eyes on you, but continued to stare at your drink and tried to radiate as much Don’t Fucking Talk To Me, I’m Not In The Mood energy as you possibly could. It didn’t work. “When are you heading up there?” He prodded.

You suppressed an eye roll. “I’m not.” Still refusing to look over and hoping he would get the hint.

He didn’t. “Ah, come on. Who comes to Ollie’s Famous Karaoke Night and doesn’t take a turn?”

“I guess me.” You muttered.

There was only a beat of silence before he spoke again. “I’m Jake.”

“Cool. I didn’t ask.” You heard a slight laugh from him, but he didn’t say anything else. A few moments later a shot glass was set in front of you.

“Have a good night, Sunshine.” Jake said with a laugh. You waited until you couldn’t hear his footsteps walking away anymore until you grabbed the shot and downed it and let it warm your body. A free shot is a free shot. The two guys on the stage finally finished and you nursed your last drink and tried to get the bartender’s, who was apparently named Ollie, attention so you could close out your tab. All of a sudden Ollie was rather elusive, so you decided to bide your time. You had nowhere to go anyway.

A cough into the karaoke mic stopped your hand that was bringing the glass to your lips in mid-air. “This one goes out to a special person who needs some cheering up.” Jake’s voice filled the room and then he began to sing ‘Good Day Sunshine’ by The Beatles. A slow and begrudging smile formed on your lips and you couldn’t help but turn toward the stage to watch him. His eyes fell on yours and he gave you a quick smile. You lifted your drink slightly toward him in acknowledgment. When his song ended, he sauntered over to you. He was cocky, maybe a little annoying, definitely too persistent, but you kinda liked all of it when it was tied up with those intense eyes and curve of his lips. You absolutely shouldn’t notice those things about him, but clearly, your eyes had a mind of their own tonight, especially as they trailed down his neck and noticed how low he had his button-up shirt open. Almost his whole chest was exposed and you wanted to lick him. You blinked, trying to figure out where the thought had come from. You weren’t like this. Ever. But now he was in front of you, leaning against the bar with a cocky grin and you wanted to kiss that smile off his stupid face.

“Real cute.” You murmured with an eye roll.

“It made you smile, Sunshine.” He replied. You leaned back against the bar to mirror his relaxed attitude. You bit your bottom lip quickly as you thought for a second and then decided to throw caution to the wind and told him your name. His eyes wandered down to your lips for only a second and then they were back on your eyes. God his gaze was intense. And why did you like it so much? Why did it feel like you were being seen fully and wholly for the very first time in your whole life? “So I can’t keep calling you Sunshine, then?” He asked.

“I don’t mind.” You looked away from his gaze. “Thanks for the song.”

“Eh, it was the least I could do. Ya know, I was gonna go for ‘Sunshine on My Shoulders’, but thought it would kinda kill the mood a little here.” He shrugged.

“Maybe. The Beatles were a good choice.”

“Mhm, and what song are you doing?” He leaned in slightly toward you. You leaned into him even though you didn’t mean to. It was like your body was acting on its own accord.

“Yeah, nothing. I’m still not performing.” You replied with a soft laugh and a shake of your head.

“Stagefright?” He teased.

“Sure, if that’s what will please you.” You took another sip of your drink.

“It won’t. But I’m glad to know you want to please me.” You hiccuped into your drink and tried not to choke as your face flushed. You quickly set your drink back on the bar. “If there was no one here. Just you and me. Completely alone.” He murmured, ignoring the way your cheeks were undeniably pink. “What song would you sing?”

“I have no idea.” You whispered. His hand reached for your wrist that rested on the side of the bar. You could feel his rough calloused fingers casually and faintly rub circles on your skin. The sensation traveled straight to the depths of your stomach where you hated to admit heat was gathering. This was wrong. You shouldn’t let him touch you in a bar. You should be leaning further into him. You shouldn’t let your eyes flutter close when his lips pressed into yours. You shouldn’t breathe in the scent of him and let it completely overwhelm your senses. And you absolutely shouldn’t try to follow his lips when he pulls away. You opened your eyes and pressed your lips together tightly, trying to ignore the way it felt like they were tingling with the memory of the way he felt on them. “I shouldn’t have done that.” You muttered.

“Sorry.” He replied although he didn’t look sorry in the slightest.

“I have a boyfriend.” You blurted. And his face fell immediately.

“Shit. I’m sorry.” He did look apologetic now.

“No. No. Don’t be. I – uh, I mean. I had a boyfriend. We uh… I think we broke up.” You rambled with a shake of your head.

“What do you mean you think you broke up?” He asked with a humorless laugh. You closed your eyes and opened them again to look up at his confused face. It made your chest feel tight so you looked away and spun on the stool to face the bar again.

“It’s why I was here tonight. We got in a fight… again. Like always. And I told him I was done. And I meant it this time. I really did. I don’t wanna be like this anymore.”

“Be like what?” He asked, his voice quiet.

You scoffed. “You should go back to your friends. I’m just waiting to close out my tab.” You said.

“Pour your heart out to a stranger. It’s what bars are for.”

You sighed. He waited. Finally, you spoke. “I don’t know. I guess it just stopped being right, you know? It happened slowly, but it took a while for me to notice. I looked over at him and realized that it was all superficial. Like I always said he knows everything about me. We’ve been together so long, he’s seen every single part of me. But at the same time, I feel like he doesn’t even know me. Like if he’d be pissed if he knew I was at a place like this. He likes those stupid fucking bars with fancy wines and cocktails that come out smoking with dry ice. He wouldn’t be caught dead in a place with a karaoke night. And maybe I like it here. Maybe I want to sing karaoke and be loud and obnoxious. And kiss pretty strangers. I want to be more myself. And I think I lost that person, trying to be whatever or whoever I thought he wanted. And I don’t fit into that anymore.” You let out a breath. And he was quiet. You looked over at him to find him watching you. His eyes were no longer intense but had transformed into a soft gaze and you wanted to dissolve into him. “I’m sorry.” You said and shook your head. “This is embarrassing.”

“It’s not embarrassing.” He asserted. “It’s your truth. You shouldn’t hide that from anyone. What would he say about you kissing a pretty stranger in a bar without any pretentious cocktails?” He was so close to you that you were breathing him in again.

“He wouldn’t even recognize me.” You smiled.

“Good.”

“Tell me something he doesn’t know about you.”

“About a year ago I got a tattoo. He knows about the tattoo, of course, but he doesn’t know how I got it.”

“I want to know.”

You two shared a smile. The bar had disappeared around you. It was only the two of you left on the planet. Nothing else existed. Nothing else mattered. “He was on a business trip for a week. And I woke up that morning and just decided that I couldn’t stand to be in this town any longer. So I got in my car and I drove. I had no idea where I was going, but I just kept going. Let my windows down and had my music so loud that I couldn’t even hear my own thoughts. And I stopped in a town for gas and across the street from the gas station was a tattoo parlor. Without a second thought, I walked straight in and told the girl in there I wanted a tattoo. I gave her no direction, just how much money I had, and told her to do whatever she wanted. I never felt more alive.”

“Amazing. Can I see it?”

Your face flushed again. “Uh, I can’t really show you in public.”

His eyes darkened. And you felt your stomach flutter. “I’m going to be forward. But my feelings won’t be hurt if you say no.” You nodded to let him know he could continue. “I’d really like to see your tattoo. In private.”

This was wrong. This wasn’t who you were. But then again. Maybe it was who you were because you were nodding again. “Yeah. I wanna.” His face brightened as he smiled and you returned the smile.

He offered you his hand. “Come with me.” You took it and slid off the stool. He turned back to the bar. “Hey, Ollie. Add her tab to Josh’s. He’ll be too drunk to notice.” He winked at you and you let him lead you out of the bar and out into the warm summer evening. “My apartment’s just down the block.” He explained, guiding you down the street. He stopped in front of a record store and you looked up to read the sign, Brothers Records, as he pulled out his keys from his back pocket.

“You own a record store?” You exclaimed with amazement.

He glanced at you. “Uh, yeah. With my brothers and our friend Danny. And Josh and I live in an apartment upstairs.” He unlocked the door and opened it for you to step in. The building smelled faintly of incense and the slightest memory of weed. But you didn’t stop to look around, instead following Jake toward the stairway in the back and then up the stairs. He guided you past a cozy living room and into his bedroom. He gestured to his bed and said, “make yourself at home. I’ll be back in just a second,” and left you alone. You looked around his bedroom, just like the living room you’d passed by, it was cozy. Dark blue walls with a gray comforter on his king-sized bed, multiple Persian style rugs covered a wooden floor, one wall was covered with bookcases of differing sizes but all dark wood and full to the brim of a seemingly unorganized collection of books and the rest of the walls were decorated with band posters and several pieces of unique artwork. You were drawn to one of the paintings and you were still staring at it when Jake returned. You felt his presence in the room before he even made a sound, somehow already attuned to him.

“I really like this one.” You stated, not turning around to face him, but knowing he was coming up behind you.

“Uh, yeah, I did that.” He said sheepishly.

“Hmm, you’re really talented.” You smiled and turned to him and watched as he rubbed the back of his neck and tilted his head, surprised that he was embarrassed by the compliment. It made your heart constrict and you wanted to kiss him, so you did. You leaned into him, pressing your chest into his, and connected your lips with his. He breathed in and then wrapped his arms around you and pulled you even tighter into him as he deepened the kiss. Your own hands found purchase in his locks, soft tendrils of brown hair tangled in your fingers. When he pulled away too soon, your lips chased his lips again and his breathy laugh fanned across your cheek.

“Hold on there, Sunshine.” He set his hands on your hips and pushed you away gently. “I wanted to put on some music. Is that okay?” You nodded and returned your attention to his artwork, committing the thick paint strokes to memory. The comforting sound of a needle being placed softly on top of a record and then a slow melody you didn’t recognize filled the quiet of the room. He moved silently back across the room and his strong hands were on your shoulders and then down your arms and you had to suppress a shiver when the tips of his calloused fingers grazed your neck to push your hair away and soft lips pressed softer kisses into the back of your neck. You melted into him, the hard lines of his body melding perfectly into the soft forms of yours. A sigh fell from your lips when he left a kiss right below your ear and whispered in your ear. “I’d love to see that tattoo, darling.” His deep voice reverberated through your body and buried itself in your core.

You moved in his arms to face him. One of his hands rested on the side of your face and you leaned into his touch and allowed yourself to be kissed by him again. First, slow and languid, taking his time to explore and learn you, finding ways to make you sigh against his lips and moan into him. His hands moved down your body, lighting minuscule sparks along their path until they found a home tight on your hips. The grip he had on you tightened as you pulled his bottom lip between your teeth. When your giggle grazed his lips he groaned and pushed himself into you and your giggle dissolved into a gasp, feeling his solid erection press into you through too many layers of clothing. You felt yourself being walked back into the wall and gasped again when your back was shoved against the wall.

“Fuck. You keep making noises like that…” he started, but was distracted by your exposed neck and he nipped right above your clavicle. You lifted your leg that he’d slotted between his two firm legs and let your knee lightly rub up his inner thigh and slide past his erection before settling your foot back on solid ground. He moaned into your neck and then bit down harder on your pulse point. Your own hands flew to his hips and tugged him into you. You needed more, you needed him there.

“Jake, please.” You mewled.

“Show me your tattoo.” He instructed and stepped away completely from you. You instantly missed the warmth of him against you and had to stop yourself from whimpering. “Come on, darling. Give me what I want. And then I’ll give you what you want.” Your thighs clenched together like they had a mind of their own, but you reached for the bottom of your shirt and pulled it off of you. Jake watched you, no, studied you, one of his hands palming himself over his jeans. Goosebumps covered your arms as you took off your bra, slowly, and then turned to the side to show the tattoo on the right side of your rib cage, always covered with the side of your bra. He stepped over to you and his fingers ghosted over the healed ink. “Beautiful.”

“It’s just a silly tattoo. It doesn’t mean anything.” You muttered, trying and failing to not seem so affected by the way his fingers were barely touching you but were still causing even more heat to pool between your legs.

“It does mean something.” He whispered, his lips centimeters away from your inked skin, his warm breath like a soothing balm over any ills or pains you could possibly still hold within. He kissed your tattoo and your eyes fluttered shut with a soft sigh from your lips. “It’s your independence.” Another feather-light kiss. “It’s the fire deep within you that you never, ever should try and hide away.” He kissed with slightly more pressure. “It’s part of what makes you, you.” One more kiss and you couldn’t take it anymore. You reached for him and pulled his face up to yours, forcing your lips onto his, not afraid to appear hungry and desperate because you wanted him so bad, more than you’d ever wanted anyone. As your fingers twisted themselves into his hair again, his hands found your breasts, squeezing and rubbing and pinching, until you were panting into his lips. His mouth left yours and traveled down to your breasts, taking a nipple swiftly into his mouth.

Your head fell back against the wall which you’d somehow found yourself pushed up against again. “Oh my god, Jake,” you moaned. He pulled back and kissed you hastily between your two breasts, right your heart was before he gave attention to your other breast. “Jake I – I need…” you gasped.

He only pulled back slightly, enough that his voice was only slightly muffled. “Tell me what you need.” And then pulled you back into his mouth.

Your hand tightened around the back of his neck and you tried to focus on speaking, but your mind could barely keep up. You cursed. And he moaned against you. Finally, your brain caught up. “I need you. I need you.” You sputtered. “Please.”

He removed his mouth from you, but only to pepper more kisses down your body as he lowered himself to his knees. When he was fully on his knees, he looked up at you, one of his hands at the buttons of your pants. “You don’t need to beg. I’ll give you anything you want.” He unbuttoned your pants and took his time pulling them and your underwear down your legs and helping you step out of them. He placed a kiss on your stomach and looked up at you one more time and you couldn’t help the flutters in your core at how dark his eyes seemed, how much he clearly wanted you in that moment. “Unless you like begging, baby.” He said but didn’t give you even a second to reply before he dipped into you and his tongue swiped right at your center and up to your clit. You gripped hard on his shoulders, bending slightly over so you could watch him bury his face in between your thighs. His hands tight behind you, clinging onto your ass, and clearly holding you up as your legs started to weaken from pleasure. He flattened his tongue against your sensitive bud and pulled your hips into him, grinding you on his tongue. You understood and repeated the motion and your hands moved on their own accord back to his hair, holding him against you as you rode his tongue.

The music stopped and the only sounds in the room were coming from you and you filled the room. His name and curses and Oh gods tumbling out of your mouth. You threw your head back against the wall and sped up your movements and Jake moaned into you, sending vibrations through you. Your legs couldn’t hold you up any longer and he held onto you tighter as he pushed you over and through your edge and placed soft, gentle kisses on the inside of your thighs when your breathing began to settle. You lazily tugged him up from his knees, although he did all the work, and kissed him.

“Does he know?” He groaned, placing his thigh in between your legs and pressing it against you. You drew in a rapid breath.

“What – what do you mean?”

His gaze bore into yours, his dark brown eyes blown with lust and hunger. And you didn’t know anyone could look at you like that, but now that it happened you could never settle for less. “Fuck.” He pinched a nipple again and you gasped yet again. “Does he know those little sounds you make?” You blinked and tried to think of how to reply, but Jake spoke again before you could. “He doesn’t even know where you went tonight, does he?” You shook your head and he smirked. “Do you think he knows how desperate you were? How much you needed someone to make you feel good? How you rode my face so fucking perfect?” He kissed your neck and you knew he could feel your heart pounding. “He doesn’t know that you’re mine tonight.” His hand gripped your jaw, not tight, but enough that you had to look directly in his eyes. “You’re mine tonight, aren’t you, baby?” You swallowed and nodded. His lips formed into a smirk again as he shook his head. “I need you to say it.”

“I’m yours.” You stated. And you thought it would feel wrong, but it didn’t, not in the least bit. Instead, it felt like the truest statement you’d ever made in your life. Especially when he started to kiss you again and his hand fell down your body and made you warm all over again. Your own hands traveled down the planes of his chest and abdomen to reach for his belt and undid it as fast as you could. As soon as it was undone and you unbuttoned his pants, you reached in to feel him over his briefs, and this time he gasped against your lips and his head fell to your shoulder.

“Tell me you want me.” He muttered against your skin.

“He doesn’t know how bad I want you, Jake.” You replied. And in a blink, you were pulled away from the wall and practically tossed on your back onto his bed. His eyes journeyed from yours all the way down your body, taking it all in as he got rid of his clothes. Your bottom lip found itself between your teeth when he was finally naked in front of you and he was pumping himself in his hand. “I want you.”

“Fuck. You don’t know how bad I want you.” His voice dripped with desire. You moved back on the bed until you were closer to his headboard and opened your legs for him. His eyes dropped lower to where your fingers started a somnolent pattern on your clit. He watched you for a moment before blinking and walking to the nightstand on the left side of the bed. You watched him open the drawer and pull out a condom from the box. He opened it quickly and started to place it on his cock, but you rolled on your side and placed a hand on his wrist, stopping him.

“Can I?” You asked. He just nodded. You pinched the tip of the condom and slowly rolled it down his length, looking up at him. His eyes connected with yours when he tore his line of vision away from your hands on his erection. The bed dipped slightly as he put his knee on the edge and leaned toward you, his hand pulling you toward him by your cheek. You sighed into the kiss and he fully climbed onto the bed, never pulling away from you. Your lips only disconnected from his as he slid into you and you gasped. He used the opportunity and pulled away to look down and watch himself enter you, so slowly that it almost felt tortuous.

When he was in you to the hilt he looked back into your eyes. “Are you okay?” He asked and instead of answering you reached up and pulled him back into you to kiss him. He understood and moved in and out of you. One of his hands clasped onto your hips to anchor himself as he pumped himself into you.

“More, I need more.” You rambled and he delivered. Pounding into you at a pace you didn’t think could possibly feel good, but it did, it felt so good. He was slamming into you, but you kept taking him in, pulling him in, and he gave you everything he had. Your back arched beneath him and your legs wrapped yourself around his hips.

“Does he make you feel like this?” He growled, not relenting his pace.

“No. No one does.” You burst as you screwed your eyes shut from pleasure, somehow already on the verge of another climax.

“Does he know you’re never going back?” You shook your head, unable to find your voice. “Open your eyes. Answer me.”

You forced your eyes open and stared up at Jake. “I’m never going back. Never. Never.” You moaned as he pulled out completely and then back into you.

“Tonight you’re mine.” He asserted as his thumb found your clit and circled it. You had no control as your body writhed under him.

“I’m yours.” You panted. “I’m yours.” You repeated as he caused you to run headfirst into another orgasm.

His pace faltered and became erratic as he quickly followed you over the edge. You heard him whisper, “mine,” as he buried his head into the crook of your neck and stilled inside you. You laid together, sweaty and panting until your breathing returned to normal. He lifted himself off of you and laid down beside you, pushing hair from your face as he looked at you. You watched him study you for a few moments. “I think you should get more secret tattoos.”

You laughed.

[aquagirl1978]

If allowed could I also request Dec 15th with Clavis from ikemen prince leaving cookies 🍪 for Santa with MC but ends up eating the cookies themselves and making a mess in the Christmas room? They get intimate and break and spill many many things 🙈🙈🙈 well… they also have some fun with the cookies too 🙈💕🥵

Thanks @rhodolitesrose for the request! My last story for this challenge! I hope I did your prompt justice - I think Clavis had fun making mischief here.

@altairring - here's the second one I mentioned earlier

A/N: This is part of @voltage-vixen's event 'Tis the Season for Smut 2.0 Content Creation Challenge

Prompt: Dec 15 - Free prompt

Warnings: Explicit, NSFW, Minors DNI

Requested by: @rhodolitesrose

“Clavis! The cookies are supposed to be for Santa! Not for you!”

He finished his cookie, wiping the crumbs from his mouth. “Someone had to taste them, haha.” He picked up another cookie from the tray and dangled it in front of your face. “C’mon Belle, it’s so yummy.”

You stepped closer, inspecting the cookie. It was positively scrumptious looking and very tempting. “Did Yves bake those?”

“He sure did.” He pulled the cookies away, pretending to take a bite out of it. “You know they’re delicious.”

You took a step forward and snatched the cookie from his hand and took a nibble. You closed your eyes, the cookie was crisp and buttery, its flavors melting on your tongue. Clavis was right, the cookie was divine.

“Oh, Belle,” Clavis chided. “You have some crumbs on your face. Let me help you.” He dipped his face to yours, his tongue darting off where he claimed you had cookie on your face. “There, that’s better,” he smirked.

Clavis eyed the tray of cookies and treats. “It would be an absolute shame to let these cookies go to waste, don’t you agree?” He picked up a bite-sized berry tart, pulled the berry off, and rubbed it along your lips, teasing you with its taste. You stuck your tongue out, trying to grab the fruit from his fingers. He pulled it away slightly, before popping it into your mouth; the taste of the berry was so sweet you licked your lips.

It was your turn now to feed Clavis a cookie. Before you did so, he took off his jacket and coat. When you gave him a surprising look, he laughed. “I don’t want to make a mess all over my clothes.” There was a glimmer of mischief in his eyes; you knew he had an ulterior motive, and it was not to keep clean.

You continued to feed each other cookies, while helping the other remove articles of clothing – so that you don’t leave crumbs on your fancy outfits. “Whoops!” Clavis exclaimed when your skirt fell to the floor. Your body was flushed with warmth, enough so that the slight chill of the winter air didn’t bother you in the least.

The tray of cookies now almost empty, Clavis laid across the couch, pulling you clumsily on top of him. His elegant fingers deftly unlaced your top as his mouth captured yours in a passionate kiss. Moving in a haste to remove clothing, your arm carelessly knocked over the glass of milk sitting on the table with the cookie tray.

Horrified at your mess, you immediately pulled back, wanting to clean it up. Clavis watched your reaction, his amber eyes alight with mischief.

“Why clean up? Let them think Santa was here, making a mess.” He dropped his voice, now husky, dripping with desire. “Why clean, when we can have some fun?”

You didn’t need much convincing, your mouth soon found his; you weren’t sure who initiated the kiss, but it didn’t matter. His tongue was warm and inviting, and oh so sweet, twirling and teasing yours. His hands caressed your curves, his fingers lingering on your breasts, pinching your nipples gently. He pushed your body against the couch, his lean frame pressing against yours. Your body arched up against his, wanting more.

He soon slid his hand between your thighs, his palm rubbing the sensitive skin of your thighs. Moans escaped your lips, your hand on his, guiding him to where you needed him. His mouth nipped at your neck, pink marks blossomed on your skin, as his slipped a finger inside you. You ran your hand along his thigh, feeling his shaft stiffen against your touch.

Pleasurable moans filled the air as he thrust into you, your bodies joining as one. Your eyes closed, your head fell back, as pleasure built in your body. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, clinging to him, as cries of his name escaped your lips. He let out a loud groan as he spilled his seed deep inside you, your bodies both trembling with bliss.

Moonlight spilled into the room, casting a pale light to our afterglow. He softly brushed back a lock of my hair and kissed your forehead. He disappeared but for a moment, returning with the last of the cookies and fed you one. You looked around the room – there was spilled milk, an empty tray of cookies, and crumbs everywhere. You were glad you and your lover would be long gone by the time anyone else woke up and found this mess in the Christmas room.

But it was all worth it.

[onthespotlightif]

hi dear author!!! i'm so looking forward to your story, what you've published so far has me hooked! 💕 if you're okay with scenario asks, can i request ro and mc accidentally touching hands and mc instantly going red and shy. Thank you! 🥺

Thanks 😊You're so sweet anon...🥺

(Crushing Stage) 💕

Ryder/Riley: "It was yet another bright and sunny morning during your stay on the island. You woke up and after having followed your basic routine, you decided to go down to the lower floor of the mansion, going to the dining room where all the meals that you consume are served only to find R, already sitting and eating one of the toast with jam that was on their plate while making a rhythm of some music under their breath which formed a low soft hum.

Distracted, they didn't take immediate notice of your presence, but when you pushed the chair away and sat down, they looked up with that teasing smirk.

'Look who is awake and decided to grace my morning with their stunning beauty! Good morning, darling~.' They say fixing that grayish blue gaze on you without looking away for a single moment, using a tone that could be considered a purr at the end of the sentence highlighted by their Irish accent.

With just one look they can make your heart speed up, fluttering in your chest and the sound vibrating low in your ears.

You know they notice your reaction to them because of the sparks in their eyes who clearly delight in the effect they have on you.

You return the greeting after trying to hide your embarrassed moment by putting your hand on your mouth to stifle a fake yawn, continuing to select what you were going to eat that morning.

When you reach out to pour juice into your glass, R decides to do the same, your fingers briefly touching theirs but it was enough for you to feel your cheeks slowly heating up.

'Darling, that way you spoil me by giving me that cute expression.' They say with a brief exclamation in the end, still teasing you but sticking to a softer tone and a smile still pretentious but conveying more warmth because of the obvious happiness that reached their beautiful eyes."

Felix/Felicity: "You arranged to meet F on a secluded part of the beach, the soft yellowish-white sand gently sinking because of your slow steps, the warm feeling under your bare feet, the light breeze gently caressing your face and your hair that ripples slightly like the low waves that break tenderly on the beach, the white foam receding, leaving behind a dark, wet shadow to the touch. The green leaves of the palm trees moving along with the breeze that spreads the freshness and slightly salty aroma emanating from the cyan blue sea, the crystalline surface shimmering peacefully, displaying an exotic shoal and a chain of vividly colored corals.

Hearing footsteps gently sinking into the sand, you turn around, watching F's dark brown curls bouncing softly as they moved around their face. When they see you a sweet and little shy smile appears on their plump lips as they approach.

'I hope I didn't make you wait too long, did I?' They ask in a soft, calm tone but you can hear it wavering a little with uncertainty, deciding to put their restless hands in the front pockets of the baggy denim shorts they chose to wear today.

You reassure them that you didn't wait too much, calming them down with a hand gesture. They nod in response and take a hand out of their pocket to adjust their glasses, evading a bit to meet your eyes directly.

You and F began to walk quietly on the sand, the sky becoming a watercolor of pinks, yellows and peach as the sun set. Moving forward your fingers brush theirs, making you feel a kind of spark go off due to the accidental touch.

F looks at you with alarmed hazel green eyes and their mouth slightly open, looking away as they hold their fingers to his chest, as if preserving that minimal touch with them. Making you aware of your own reaction that was just as embarrassed as of them, maybe even more.

Charlie/Charlotte: "C was a hard person to find when they wanted it that way. You felt that you had looked for them in every corner of that mansion. But you finally find them in a place you hadn't thought of looking them before. 

On the outside of the mansion, more specifically where the pool area is located, they were under the shade of a square white parasol, reclining comfortably on a lounger, casually reading the Hamlet’s play book, a reading glasses perched on the bridge of their nose. On the small round table between the dark blue loungers was a tall glass of what you assumed was iced tea, because you already knew they preferred tea over coffee.

You approached slowly, immediately attracting their attention by the sound of your shoes on the stone slabs, they looked at you over the book with a neutral gaze, but you could detect something faint that it wasn't the usual boredom in their jade green depths.

‘Mc, may I know to what I owe the honor of your presence?’ They ask closing and putting the book aside with a monotone voice, their right eyebrow arched haughtily, but you know they’re partially teasing because of the little smile lifting one of the corners of their lips slightly.

You respond by saying : For nothing in particular that you just wanted to see them, they nod letting out a brief hum, as soon as they reach towards the glass on the table, you sitting on the edge of the other lounger decide to extend the glass to them almost leaving it fall from their superficial and unintentional touch against your fingers, they only say a distracted thanks without noticing your flustered face.”

Jun - “You still needed to get your makeup done to get on the show's set, so after you'd dressed in your custom-made outfit, created just for you, you proceed as fast as possible down the hall, following the narrow rug on the wooden floor, mentally thanking that it won't take long to get to the room where Jun does the makeup for all the participants. 

On the way, you end up bumping into R who has just left the room. They’re already wearing the outfit that had been selected for them to wear for the day, they offer you a wink when they see you coming in a hurry, they wave their  fingers as you pass by them, leaving with their smug grin fixed in the usual place.

As soon as you walk in and close the door softly behind you, Jun stops fixing their makeup brushes to turn towards you with a sincere smile, that conveyed a dose of tranquility that acted as a balm on your soul, making you momentarily forget your previous worries.

'I was waiting for you, mon chéri.' They say with a warm look, the affection in their gentle dark brown eyes was clear.

They rest a hand on your arm, leading you to one of the chairs positioned in front of the mirror with led light embedded in the edges, which subtly illuminates the dark surface with acrylic texture under the same whitish light.

The items Jun needed were neatly ordered, was something you noticed while they were working on your makeup.

When you opened your eyes you noticed their closeness, feeling their fingertips touching your cheek very lightly, a soft color appears on it but it wasn't makeup if the heat you felt in the region was any indication of that fact.

The moment they noticed, they tilted their head a little, a loose strand of light pink hair slipping from their braid with the movement, they stopped, seeming playfully considering their next step with a clean brush to spread blush leaning against the side of their face as they looked at you with a soft smile that highlighted that tender look they had when looking at you.

'Although I love my profession, I've always enjoyed putting makeup on you because my work is already complete before I even start. And that color on your cheeks matches perfectly. No blush for today!’ They truly say it in that affectionate tone before teasing you in a playful way at the end, but they were still being sincere.”

[???] - “Upon meeting them, walking unhurriedly to where you waited for a while before seeing them approach with a purposefully calm gait that could be considered almost calculated, a mask of indifference on their faces, a look totally impatient if you didn't noticed the curiosity in their depth as they said:

'I hope what you have to tell me that kept me from getting on with my day is important enough. Or do you just want so much to be in my presence that you can't help but ask for it?’ They say barely managing to contain their annoyed tone, however you could be imagining it but noticed that they sounded rather pleased, carefully evaluating your expression and behavior, not missing a single detail and making you feel almost like prey under that piercing amber gaze.

They can't even hide their mocking amusement as they give a villain-like mean laugh, clapping their hands briefly when you say in the most confident and assertive tone possible that they couldn't spoil anything this time.

‘Keep believing in that illusion of yours if it's something that reassures you.’ They say before giving a perfect but still purely mocking bow before taking your hand and kissing your knuckles. Laughing again when they see your embarrassed reaction.

Going in their way just to hide the very reaction they couldn't help but have.”

Gabriel/Gabriela - “After you won in the game the day before, G had been in charge of delivering your mother's message to you, it was one of the bonuses for the winners along with an advantage that would benefit you within the reality.

They were busy as usual and if the messy strands of their hair were a sign that they had already been frustrated from the day, then you had a clear and blatant indication.

You witness them repeating this act before pressing the bridge of their nose between their thumb and forefinger.

The tempestuous expression on their face fades, being replaced by a smile as charming as it is warm that lit up their dark blue eyes, which made them soft and sincere. 

 'Mc. I was tempted to look for you if you didn't come to me. Forgive me if I seem impatient, but sometimes one of the best things is being around someone who makes me appreciate that time of the day without even being aware of it.’ They say as they approach with that same smile, which was even reflected in their voice with soft notes produced by the ever present Italian accent. 

They hand you an envelope that you assume contains the message, the first thing you feel when you pick it up is a spreading sensation where their fingers have touched your hand before you realize your face must be showing the unmistakable evidence of your reaction because of it. Noticing this detail G only worsens your situation when they lightly kiss the back of the hand you hold the envelope with a daring smile that was quite different from their usual charming one. Walking but still looking at you when they say: ‘For you to remember me too.’ ”

Han - “It wasn't a novelty to find Han reading a manhwa, as it was something he had already declared he loved to do in a conversation you had with him. The way he explained the plot, characters made it more than clear to you that he had been totally sincere with the statement they had made before.

He was comfortably seated in a padded chair on the balcony that overlooked the massive pool area. Laughing at something he had read, he looked at you when listening you close the sliding door behind you, he gives you a huge dazzling smile. You sit in the other chair, before asking which one he's reading right now.

He prepared to answer, chuckling a little and rubbing the back of his head as he gently bites his lip, trying to hide the reddened tips of his ears as he answered.

'It's about a nine-tailed fox who is reborn as an actor and he needs to succeed in this new life. It's very interesting, I've been reading it since yesterday. I'm sure it was Seo-Yun who sent me this. It practically screams her name' He says laughing with a nostalgic look. It was hard not to notice how much he seemed to care about his family, it was truly heartwarming.

You smiled, enjoying the temporary silence before asking if you could see the manhwa. 'Sure! I can lend it to you if you want to read it later'. He says holding it out for you to take.

His hand touches yours and you both spontaneously combust because of it.”

Isa - “When you didn't find Isa in the parts of the mansion you searched for her, you already knew where you could find her quite easily because she loves plants. You were right, she was sitting on the loveseat in the sunroom, eyes closed while listening to the soft music coming out of the speakers and humming a little.

You call her name and she promptly jumps off the loveseat, such a bright, excited smile on her face as she exclaims your name.

'What do you have to say to me, cuteness?' She asks, still with that dazzling smile, lighting up her honey brown eyes, wiggling her eyebrows playfully, looking at you while waiting for your answer.

You then tell her that G was looking for her and told her that maybe it was serious.

She pouted, eyes sad as she comments: 'They has to learn how to relax a little and breathe.' She said before clapping her hands together emphatically before her smile returned in full force.

'So I'm going! Bye' She said touching your hand accidentally as she practically jumped past you.

She sees your current state and send you a little air kiss with a giggle before continuing with her excited footsteps."

Sky - “As you approach the door, you hear Sky singing in a sweet, tuned voice that surprises you a bit as does their pet that got tangled up around your ankle one day, making you stop and look down when you felt something cold touch your skin gently as it went up a little to better balance itself at that point.

Sky laughed a little at your desperation before attracting the snake's attention that stuck its forked tongue out waving it in the air.

You went looking for them because Jun said Sky needs to get ready soon to host the show. Due to a small unforeseen event, the program would be shown later and some details need to be fixed in a hurry. You knocked on the door and when you heard the permission to enter you found Sky wearing another one of their colorful suits, this one had a peacock theme.

'Oh, it's you! This night will be amazing for you, of course that depends a lot on each one's tastes.' They said with a mischievous smirk that filled his stormy gray eyes with excited sparks.'

You raise a questioning eyebrow and they bring their index finger to their lips before making a zipper gesture over their mouth, giving you a wink.

'Jun sent you here, right? They're so impatient even though they know you can't rush beauty. Don't you agree, sweetie? But if my fans crave me what can I do? Let's go then, follow your favorite reality presenter.' They say taking your hand and giving you a huge smile when they saw the color tinting your cheeks.”