#to say about most topics. I am meant to nod and smile at people. This makes messaging hard.

[beebfreeb]

Messaging people for the first time is so hard. What am I supposed to say? Like, "You seem really odd and your blog intrigues me. Do you want to have philosophical conversations or perhaps talk about fictional characters?" What! Whatever. I will just follow you back and stare at your blog with my big beautiful brown eyes.

[allywthsr]

LEO LECLERC | (c.leclerc)

summary: you and Charles get a dog

wordcount: 1.8k words

pairing: charlesleclerc x fem!reader

warnings: dogs

notes: how cute is Leo? My goodness.

You and Charles had been together for quite a while now, while he was busy racing all over the world, you were staying at home and working, sometimes you would join him for a race but most of the time, you couldn’t just get off work. Even with meeting your friends and being busy with your own work, you still felt lonely, especially at night. You never knew what could happen, due to having your address leaked by a few fans, you had people ringing the doorbell at two am. Sometimes friends slept over, but you needed someone to cuddle with when Charles was gone.

You‘ve always thought about having a dog, and all the cute puppies on your Instagram page had you swooning, just like Charles, he had always kept a close eye on your phone whenever you went down a rabbit hole of looking at cute dogs, seeing what kind of dogs you loved and spent hours of watching, he secretly always watched videos as well, but he also knew that a dog meant more work than it seemed in the videos.

It wasn’t like you two were seriously talking about getting a dog, sometimes the topic would randomly occur and you fantasized about the life with a dog, but you weren’t even sure if Charles would be a hundred percent okay with a little companion.

Until one Thursday evening, it was an off week for Charles and you were cuddling on the couch, watching some Netflix, when his phone rang. Joris was calling and Charles left the living room, you heard him mumble something in French, but you couldn’t hear him clear enough to fully hear what he was saying. Shortly after he came back and sat down again, you looked at him, he normally never left the room when he received a call.

“Joris called to tell me something.”

That made you sit up, nudging him slightly to talk more.

“I know how lonely you felt these last few weeks when I’m not around. And I know that you love dogs, so I aske-”

“You got us a dog?!”, you screeched in his ear, to which he shifted a little more far away, so he could keep his hearing ability.

“Not yet, Joris knows someone whose dog accidentally got pregnant and wants to sell some puppies, I thought we could go there tomorrow and see if any puppies like us?”

With tears in your eyes, you nodded and hugged him tightly, this was your dream, a little someone to take care of, a new best friend.

During the night you had trouble falling asleep, too excited to look at the dogs, so when the clock hit 7 am, you got up and took a shower, after you prepared some breakfast and woke Charles up, the faster you could get there, the better.

You both were nervous during breakfast, this was a big decision, a dog was a responsibility for several years, but you knew he or she would have the best life in your home, and your lives would also get better. There would always be a little cuddle buddy, someone to play with, and someone who needs your attention twenty-four-seven.

Joris didn’t say what breed it would be, only that the pregnancy wasn’t planned, but the puppies were adorable, and you didn’t doubt that for one second, every puppy was a cute creature.

The drive was rather short, only thirty minutes until you reached the family home, when you rang the doorbell, you could already hear dogs barking, and when the door opened and an older lady smiled at you, you could hear little puppies crying. You introduced yourself to the woman, whose name was Margarete, and she welcomed you into her home. After she offered you a coffee, she led you into the room where a big playpen was standing, and five little light brown puppies were sleeping. The little golden retriever dachshund mixes had the cutest little floppy ears and the softest-looking fur you had ever seen.

You quietly gasped after seeing these angels, and the first one lifted his head, after hearing a strange noise, and got excited when he saw you and Charles, waking his siblings in the process. After the puppies were awake and barking at you, you couldn’t wait anymore and carefully got in the pen, immediately you had four dogs crawling all over you, and the fifth one was sitting in the corner, crying for his mother, he was smaller than his siblings but in perfect health. Margaret told you she was currently training them to be separated from their mother, and so they could be crying, but when Charles joined you in the pen, the little fella walked over to him and sniffed at his knee, before getting up on Charles leg and finding a comfortable spot to sleep, after all, he was a small puppy.

From that moment, you knew this puppy had your heart, seeing how comfortable he was with Charles, and how he was crying for his mama a second ago, these two had a special connection.

Charles also fell in love with the little boy, he picked him up carefully and the puppy started to lick his face, which Charles commented with a chuckle. You two looked at each other and you knew what he was thinking, you found your little love. Charles gave you the fella and he also started sniffing you, giving you small licks on your chin, when you held him close to your chest.

Margaret came in and saw you cuddling with the dog, she knew you made a decision when you looked at her, “That’s Leo, you can change his name if you want to, but my grandson named him that way.”

Leo fit him perfectly, Leo Leclerc.

Charles and you took your time to cuddle some more, really making sure Leo liked you and wasn’t scared.

After doing all the paperwork with Margaret and learning about the needs that a little puppy had, you two left the house and went straight to the pet store, you still had to wait two weeks until you could pick him up, but you two were way too excited to not go and shop for Leo.

The cart was almost full when you waited in the queue to pay, food, toys, leashes, beds, and more stuff waiting to be used by Leo.

The next two weeks were going by slower than you’d hoped. Every day you chatted with Margarete and she sent you pictures and updates from Leo, the little puppy was doing great and got his last few shots at the vet, now he was ready to come home to you.

It was a Saturday when you picked him up, Leo got excited when you had him in your arms, licking everything he could reach, while Charles paid for Leo, and signed the last papers. Now he was officially yours, your own little puppy, to cherish and love.

On the way home you spilled some tears, while the little angel was sleeping on your lap, this was a dream come true. Now you wouldn’t be as lonely anymore when Charles was gone, but you also had a little companion when you two were together.

The first few steps Leo did in his new home were wobbly, he was a little scared, so you and Charles settled down on the floor, just to make sure Leo didn’t feel lonely and had someone he could go to if he needed emotional support. But he was a brave boy, and even if his steps were slow, he still looked around the apartment, sniffing all these new smells and he already found his favorite spot, which was underneath the piano, where a furry rug was lying.

You let the little puppy sleep and started making dinner, Leo must’ve been exhausted, he left his old home and his family, and now he was with strangers in new surroundings, but he felt comfortable, or otherwise he wouldn’t be sleeping like he was now.

The evening was spent cuddling with Leo, when you and Charles were lying on the couch, watching TV, Leo tried to get up on the couch and when Charles picked him up, he settled on your belly, where he took another nap.

The first night was nerve-racking, you had read a lot of articles, so you prepared for the worst. Leo and you two went to bed at around eleven pm, the little puppy lay down in his dog bed that Charles placed in the corner of the room, and two hours after you fell asleep, you got woken up by little whines that came from Leo. You grabbed him and put on his leash, and Charles and you went outside, where Leo did his business. Charles held your hand, while he had the leash in the other hand, he looked adorable with his jumper pulled over his head.

Back at home, you laid in bed again, but before you could fall asleep, little whines came from Leo again. Charles let out a sigh, “Do you think he needs to go outside again?”
“But he did his business, maybe he misses his family? They slept cuddled together every night after all.”

So he got up, picked Leo up, and came back to bed with him, when Leo settled between you, he stopped crying and fell asleep.

The next morning started off early, Leo licked all over your face and started playing with your hair, even if you were sleep deprived, when you opened your eyes and looked at Charles with Leo, all of this was worth it. The way Leo’s tail was wagging when you filled his food bowl with the puppy food, you think you died from diabetes, but Charles wasn’t any different. You already caught him way too often when he sneaked a treat to Leo, and you only had him for a day.

You also caught Charles cuddling with Leo while he was doing sim work in his simulator at home, or while taking a nap on the couch, or how Leo followed him everywhere Charles went. He already loved his new dad. Just as much as he loved you.

The ice cream launch was when you wanted to introduce Leo to the world, the little baby was frightened by the flashing lights, but when Charles held him, he calmed down again, in general, he felt most calm when he was in Charles’ arms.

Leo loved small walks, he couldn’t walk for long, he had small legs and was exhausted easily, so you all could walk for fifteen minutes before Leo had enough and wanted to be held, that's why you and Charles were often seen holding him.

You couldn’t wait to see Leo grow up and have the time of his life, especially Charles couldn’t wait for him to join him at a race, Leo would be his emotional support dog, in these hard times at Ferrari.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Sunshine, Lollipops, and Rainbows 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, clashing personalities, exclusion, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: moody boy Curtis Everett x bubbly, plus-size reader

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You arrive early with your laptop. The meeting room appears occupied as you wait outside. You don’t knock for fear of interrupting and stand patiently in the hall.

You check your watch, the hot pink casio with the digital face. It’s getting close. You try not to worry too much. The IT tech will no doubt show up and realise what’s going on.

As you begin to build the upcoming meeting as more than it is, the door cracks open and a man pokes his head out. He wear frameless rectangular glasses and his blond hair is spiky and shiny with gel. He smiles as he lets the door fall open.

“Hey, sorry to keep you waiting, you must be our one o’clock,” he says, “I’m Jake.”

You shake his hand and introduce yourself. He welcomes you in as you ponder his words, ‘our’? As you enter, you are faced with the last person you expect. The man’s neutral stare turns to a chagrined scowl as your eyes meet. The very same moody lunch partner from the day before.

“Hi,” you say sheepishly as you sit down and place your laptop on the table.

“Curtis will be doing most of the set up,” Jake explains as he sits beside the other man, “I’m mostly here for moral support.”

“Shut up,” Curtis sneers under his breath.

“Curtis,” you beam brightly; you finally got a name for the face. You give your own happily, enunciating it as if he’s never heard it before.

“Let’s get this done with,” he reaches across the table and takes your laptop. 

You can only watch as he lifts the lid and starts typing. Jake looks over a tablet and offers a few words as Curtis fiddles around with your laptop. He’s met with grumbles and dismissive nods. They seem an odd pair.

“So, how are you liking it?” Jake turns his attention to you, “making any friends?”

“A few I think,” you glance at Curtis as his brows draw together, “pretty big company.”

“Yep, don’t let the corporate sea drown ya,” Jake says, “my tip, stick with the IT nerds, we mostly don’t care what’s going on upstairs. We’re all about the backend.”

The steady clack of keys underlines your small laugh. You’re nervous. You hate meetings and you just want to go back to your desk and pretend you’re reading policies.

“What is this?” Curtis grimaces and turns your computer to you. He points to the clock your installed on the desktop; Hello Kitty’s face with two clock hands ticking.

“It’s cute. It’s a clock! Oh, and the app also has a reminder setting–”

“Can’t have it on a work machine,” he grits.

“It’s fine, Curt. Won’t hurt–”

“This shit is from some Discord troll. Bullshit it can’t hurt,” Curtis insists, “policy; no third-party apps. Everything you need is already installed.”

“Okay,” you twirl your thumbs around each other, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

He looks at you above the laptop and squints, his lip slightly curling. Jake rubs his neck nervously and nudges him. You still your hands and bite into your cheek.

“He’s had a long day. Spilled coffee on himself,” Jake explains.

“Oh,” you round your eyes, looking at the wall evasively.

“We can show you how to use the system clock and reminders. You’d be surprised the features most people don’t know about,” Jake offers.

“Thanks, uh, sounds good.”

Curtis jams his finger on the touchpad harshly. He keeps his snarl aimed at the screen. You watch him, waiting for him to look up. He doesn’t. You don’t blame him, you’ve been a real thorn in his side. But you only meant well.

🌞

After the meeting, you swept up in a whirlwind of overthinking and guilt. You didn’t mean to ruin Curtis’ day. You never meant to be anything but friendly. Somehow, it rarely translates to more than a nuisance.

Still, you don’t like when people are mad at you. You’re not a grudge holder and frankly you don’t understand them. Why hold onto all that bad emotion? You need to to just apologise and let it all smooth over.

You go down to the cafeteria and grab one of the few leftover pastries. A cinnamon bun with icing, yum. You stop and make a coffee before you head back to the floor. You guess on a dark brew, he seems the type.

You wander past Research and Development and through Accounting. You don’t really know where you’re going. The further you get, the more your anxiety mounts. Surely, you can’t get lost in an office building.

You see a man with a headset and send a psst in his direction. He looks up, combing back his greasy hair with his fingers and smiles.

“Uh, hey,” he says.

“Um, is this IT?” You keep your voice down in the curdling silence of the department.

“Sure is. You need a repair?” He winks. Not exactly your taste. You shake your head.

“I’m looking for Curtis,” you say.

The man looks at your handful. He nods, deflating.

“Pretty boy’s over there,” he points towards the corner.

You thank the man and press on in your journey into the villain’s lair. You can only hope your offering is enough. Forgiveness, maybe that’s too much, but an understanding, possibly.

You turn down the last row of desks and see Curtis’ large hand brush over the back of his buzzcut, his rings twinkling in the fluorescent glow. He stretches in his chair, leaning back as he reaches his arms up. His set-up looks almost too small for him.

As you approach, he stands. You don’t expect it. The motion sends his chair back just as you get close and knocks the coffee out of your hand. The cup hits the seat and soaks into the mesh. Your squeak draws the man around in surprise.

“You,” he growls as you gape at him in shock.

“Hi,” you don’t know what to do so you hold out the cinnamon bun, “um, sorry?”

He glares at you. A deadly look that chills you to the bone. His eyes fall to his drenched seat and you cringe. You see the rage pale his face. His hands ball to fists.

“I was just…” you inch closer and set the dessert on the corner of his desk, “apologising but I see now that–”

“Go,” he grits through his teeth.

“I’m sorry, Curtis–”

“I said go,” he sneers as his grey blue eyes slowly move towards you, “before you ruin anything else.”

[dustofthedailylife]

Lost And Found

-> Masterlist || → Taglist

Pairing: Welt x (gn!) Reader

Summary: You meet your old childhood friend and crush again unexpectedly and feelings you thought you had long forgotten begin to resurface.

Tags: Fluff, Jarilo-VI story spoilers, childhood friends to lovers, Reader is implied to have known Welt when they were still young so they're about the same age here

A/N: I am on my knees begging for Welt to come home, and he refuses to come home, so I'm offering this fic as a sacrifice to the gacha gods. This is also my first HSR fic! Jing Yuan will probably be the next one I write something for... he is living rent-free in my head atm :3

You were standing in line at the street kiosk for a coffee-to-go and a granola bar. Like every morning before you headed to work. Or whatever your work was, now that the Stellaron was gone. There already had been a huge amount of layoffs lately and you expected that it wouldn’t be long anymore until they would lay you off as well.

It was cold today, nothing unusual on Jarilo-VI, but you felt like it had gotten warmer, even if it was still very minuscule and barely noticeable. 

One glance at today’s newspaper revealed yet another Stellaron headline. Nothing surprising.

Silvermane Guards push back on the Stellaron Corruption further. Supreme Guardian Bronya supports the underground with the delivery of rations and supplies.

You heard some strangers from afar had come here and managed to achieve, within a bit more than a week, what people on this planet failed to do for hundreds of years. Something you failed to help with as well, despite coming here for research on the topic yourself.

“Good morning!” The barista greeted you. “The usual?”

“The usual. Thank you.” You nodded with an honest smile. 

Once served and paid, you clutched your hands around the cup to warm your hands on the steaming hot liquid. 

The brew here could hardly be called coffee when comparing it to the one on Earth, but for what it was worth it made do. All it needed to achieve was giving you a small energy boost and some warmth after all.

Walking further down the street you spotted a lot of new faces. Ever since you’ve been here the underground had been sealed, now that it was back open it was definitely great to see the streets bustling with life again. It gave you hope that things would finally take a turn for the better on this planet. 

Maybe that meant it was time for you to leave soon as well. You had no concrete plans on where to go next yet. But essentially as always, you’d just go wherever the stars would carry you.

Lost in thought you didn’t notice how the person in front of you had stopped walking, causing you to bump into them and spill the entire cup of your tastebud-offending coffee over their coat and yourself. 

Just fantastic.

“Shit, I’m so sorry. It was my bad, I should have–”

You frantically took out a handkerchief and tried to dry the clothes of the man in front of you, until he suddenly took hold of your hand, forcing you to halt your ministrations.

At that moment he questioningly called your name.

Startled by the strange yet familiar voice, you flicked your eyes up to the face of the man you had just run into. And without a shadow of a doubt; it was him. 

His friendly brown eyes still exuded the same comforting warmth as they did all those years ago. Something you thought you’d never see again in this lifetime. Not after he left Earth.

“Welt?” You carefully inquired despite being sure that the man standing in front of you was him. Your childhood best friend. The boy you had the biggest, most mind-numbing, and toe-curling crush on back in the day.

“So it really is you!” He huffed in disbelief with a wide smile and an excited sparkle in his eyes. “I never thought I’d see you again.”

“Neither did I after you left…”

You paused for a moment to take in his features. He had become old, without a doubt, but he was still as handsome as you remembered. You dare say, it made him look even more handsome than he already was back in the day. Maturity certainly suited him.

“Let's get you a new coffee, shall we?” He points out after both you and he just stared at each other for what felt like an eternity without uttering a word. 

"Oh, uh. There is no need. It was my own fault for not paying attention and bumping into you.."

"Please, I insist! Even if it’s just for old times' sake. Although you might have to lead me to a Café since I'm unfamiliar with this city. If you still wish to take me with you in my coffee-stained state, that is…"

He looked at the mess on both his and your clothes before laughing.

But who were you to say no to an old friend? Who, after all this time, still seemed to effortlessly make your heart beat an octave higher.

"I have to warn you though. Don't expect too much from the coffee here. It tastes like hot dishwater at best."

"Well, maybe I like dishwater if I can enjoy it with an old friend?"

After you arrived at one of your favorite Cafés, he led you to one of the tables and pulled out a chair for you, waiting until you sat down. Flustered by the chivalrous gesture you avoided eye contact and waited until he sat down as well before looking at his face again.

Soon after, the conversation with him just kept flowing and it felt as if you hadn't been apart for even a day. Talking to him felt as natural and calming as you remember it. At the same time, it made you painfully aware of how much you had actually missed him.

"Hey, that reminds me, I haven't even asked yet, but what brings you here?"

"Oh, right. My crew and I were responsible for the Stellaron incident." He explained.

Figures. You could've expected that it was him who was responsible for resolving the crisis on this planet the moment you found him again.

“I’m not surprised.” You chuckled. “You mentioned a crew?”

“Yes. We travel together on the Astral Express to planets with Stellaron activity.”

“So you’re essentially the Guardians of the Galaxy?” You joke.

“Something like that.” He laughed as the corner of his eyes crinkled upwards. “Travelling feels great again. When Himeko found me–”

“Himeko?” You inquired a bit too quickly as soon as you felt a pang in your chest when he dropped the name. You tried to stop yourself from doing so but it seemed like finding your old friend again made feelings resurface you thought you had long buried and forgotten. Of course, he too had moved on with his life after so long. It would’ve surprised you if he wouldn’t have found a partner, especially with how handsome he was and still is.

“Is she your wife?” You carefully speculated while trying your hardest not to look hurt by the consideration that she might be.

“Who? Himeko? No… god, no. We’re just colleagues. Friends at most.”

A wave of relief washed over you. Was it stupid to be relieved that he wasn’t in any relationship just for your own selfish reasons? Most likely. It’s not like he’d stay here with you or take you with him all of a sudden. And you shouldn’t expect him to do so either.

Your subconscious feelings were hard to suppress though. No matter how hard you tried.

“What can I get you two lovebirds?” The waitress asked when she arrived at your table with a sweet smile.

“Oh, uh, we’re not–”

“I’ll take just a normal cup of coffee. Black, two pieces of sugar please.” Welt interrupted entirely unphased and not in any rush to correct the waitress about her wrong assumption of your relationship status. He smiled and threw you a glance out of the corner of his eyes as he spoke, seemingly amused by your probably undeniably flustered state.

With a heavily beating heart, you simply ordered the same as him while trying not to sound too out of breath. Not that you were capable of thinking about coffee when your mind was racing at the speed of light.

“I haven’t had the chance to tell you yet, that you look just as stunning as I remember.” He complimented as soon as the two were back alone. 

Was he trying to kill you?

“Oh, uhm.” You cleared your throat, feeling how your face had started to burn up. “Thank you. I could say the same about you.”

The wait for your coffee would be excruciatingly slow at this rate. Where were you supposed to look or what were you supposed to say now? 

Every ability to converse like a normal human being flew right out the window the moment he complimented you. Lucky for you he seemed to have enough to talk about, so he kept the conversation flowing by telling you about what he had been up to since you last saw each other.

“Anyway, that’s enough about me. What have you been up to all this time?”, he asked as soon as the waitress served your coffee.

“Oh… I actually came here for the Stellaron myself, so I’m basically jobless now thanks to you and your crew.” You chuckled as you took a sip from the coffee. The dark brown bitter liquid enveloped your tastebuds and made you cringe for a brief moment. You would never get used to the dishwater they dare to call coffee here.

“I’ll have to see where I’ll go now. I have no concrete plans or goals. But probably trying to find another planet that might need my help.” You ascertained after a brief pause.

“Why don’t you come with us?”

Taken aback by the unexpected and sudden proposal you started choking on your coffee as soon as he had finished speaking. Despite the butterflies that made themselves known in the pit of your stomach you couldn’t help but stare at him in disbelief. Simultaneously feeling both hope and old feelings started to bloom inside of your chest once more.

“I’m sorry. I know it might be quite a rash proposal. But it seems we share the same ideals and I thought you would be a great addition to the crew.” He paused and took a sip from his cup, awaiting your answer.

“I–I… Okay. Yeah, sure. I’ll come with you.” You reply which elicited a smile and, what you assumed was, a quiet sigh of relief from him.

“I’m glad. There is so much I still wish to tell you.”

Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about Genshin or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.

[buckychristwrites]

Could This Be | Chap. Seven | j.t.

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x F!Reader

Summary: One minute, you're single and working for AFC Richmond as the team's medic. The next minute, you're in a fake relationship with the team's handsome striker who you know next to nothing about.

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: Discussions of Previous Emotional & Physical Domestic Violence. Cussing. Fake Dating

A/N: Just a lil chapter. I hope you guys enjoy :)

Masterlist | Could This Be Masterlist | Main Blog

The last week had been a lot, to say the least.

Work had been average, but it was outside of work that had been hectic. With the bomb Jamie had dropped about the movie premiere, you found yourself in a rush to get a proper outfit. From the details you got from Keeley, it was necessary to dress up, but not necessarily in a  completely formal fashion. It took the better part of the week, but you eventually found a dress that you deemed appropriate. It took up a majority of your free time, stressing over this stupid event that you didn’t even really want to go to.

Which brought you to this moment, in the car next to Jamie, on the way to the premiere of a movie that you didn’t even know the title of. All you knew about it was that it centred around European football, which meant many big name players were invited, including all of the AFC Richmond players. 

It wasn’t until Jamie gently pulled at your hands that you noticed you were picking at your fingernails.

“Ya alright?” 

The sudden contact was only jarring for a brief second, but you were becoming accustomed to the touches from Jamie. From cheek kisses to hand holding, they were all becoming part of the routine when around people, but the consequence of that was that the behaviour bled into the moments alone. So much so, in fact, that you weren’t being as strict with making him follow the rule of letting you know before he touched you. For the most part, though, he still did. 

“Just anxious.” 

You knew that he knew better. He saw it in the way you flinched when he had told you that many Premier League players, current and former, would be at this movie premiere. He saw it in the panic you had shown all week in regards to the topic. And he could see it now, as you sat tense in the seat. You hadn’t outright said anything about it, but the closer the two of you got to the theatre, the more fear and unease filled your chest. 

Your fingers were still tenderly held in his. With your tongue pressed hard into your cheek, you were having a hard time looking at him, opting instead to continue staring out the window.

“Hey.”

Letting out a sigh, you finally looked over at him. Underneath his deep blue blazer was a white button up shirt, the top few buttons undone and the collar looking sloppy. But he looked striking in 

It. You knew  the whole night would be filled with everyone struggling for his attention.

But in this moment, it was all on you, as he leaned his head forward to make sure you were looking right into his eyes before saying, “It’s me and ya. I won’t let anythin’ happen to ya.” When you didn’t immediately respond, he raised his eyebrows. 

You didn’t need him to say it. You already knew that much.

The theatre arrived faster than you were prepared for, and before you knew it, the car came to a complete stop. Through the tinted windows, you could see the crowd of people filling the red carpet with a swarm of cameras, photo and video alike, trying to capture every moment. As the driver climbed out of the car, you felt your heart in your throat. Jamie gave you one last look.

“Ready?” It was a whisper. You nodded.

“I am.” 

The door opened, and you were suddenly blinded by the flashing of cameras that flooded the world around you. Once Jamie climbed out of the car, you were then deafened by the screams coming from fans, who were barricaded along the sidelines. 

Jamie turned, giving you a loving smile and an outstretched hand. Only for a few seconds did you hesitate before you placed your hand in his and climbed out of the car. A moment was needed for your eyes to adjust, but once you could see again, you allowed yourself to have a proper look around.

Over the years, you had watched many movie premieres on the telly, or online. But being on the red carpet yourself was another experience in itself. The feeling was incredibly surreal. Celebrities that you had watched on the big screen surrounded you. Paparazzi were taking pictures of Jamie, but with you pressed into his side, they were also taking pictures of you. Jamie turned his head so his lips were just millimetres from your ear.

“You gotta smile.”

Without intending to, the words made you laugh. When you turned to look at Jamie, he was laughing as well. The flashes from the cameras were so bright that for a period of time, the only thing you could see was Jamie’s laughing face, eyes like crescent moons.

He led you down the carpet as you tried not to look at any of the video cameras that were following his every move. You kept close to him, the smell of his cologne overpowering everything else. In the near distance, photographers were shouting Jamie’s name, demanding his attention. He continued to walk though, with his hand pressed to the small of your back. An area was set up specifically for posing for photos, and Jamie approached the area to wait. 

“Do you want me to wait elsewhere?” You asked him, pointing to the other side. He looked at you like you had grown three heads.

“Why would ya do that?” He asked. You put your hands together.

“So you can get your picture taken…” He waved a hand.

“Oh no,” He said, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you close. “You’re taking pictures with me.” The surprise filled your face.

“Why?”

He leaned in close to your ear again before whispering, “Gotta include me girlfriend, yeah?” 

Your cheeks grew very hot, and stayed that way up until Jamie and yourself made your way in front of the photo backdrop of the movie logo and other sponsor names. The yelling began immediately, begging Jamie to make specific poses or to turn in their direction. You plastered the best, most natural smile onto your face. 

“Jamie! Jamie, over here!”

“Give us a smoulder, Tartt!”

“Can we get one by yourself? Step aside, love!”

“Nope!” Jamie called, that being the only comment he responded to. “She’s not goin’ anywhere. So fuck off.” 

He turned to face you, his smile wide. It was hard not to return it. Though you weren’t in love with your photo being taken, it wasn’t as bad in this moment, with him by your side. 

You couldn’t help but stare into his eyes, as they twinkled in the light. God, is he fucking handsome. 

“I can go, if you want,” You said quietly. He shook his head.

“I want ya here.”

The warmth in your cheeks deepened. The photographers were long forgotten about, as the two of you opted to continue to look at each other. Jamie’s smile faltered slightly, his eyes dropping down your face. 

“Give us a kiss!” A photographer shouted. The other photographers chimed in with the same sentiments.

It must’ve been the adrenaline, or maybe it was the fact that you were already looking at him, and he was already looking at you, with his eyes bouncing between your eyes and your mouth. But whatever it was, without hesitation, you leaned forward and planted your lips against his. You expected him to recoil, to even pull away, but instead, he brought his hand up to your head, his fingers curling into your hair as his thumb pressed against your cheek.

A chorus of “Oooooooooooo”s came from behind. Jamie smiled against your lips before slowly pulling away. A laugh broke through your mouth as the two of you were swarmed by the other members of AFC Richmond. Sam and Dani grabbed Jamie’s shoulders, excitedly shaking him as Colin, Richard, Isaac, Bumbercatch, Jan Maas, Coach Beard, Roy, and Nate Shelley all surrounded the two of you. It was hard to be upset over the ruined moment when you were surrounded by so much excitement and love, but then it dawned on you: the moment you just experienced? It wasn’t real. There was nothing to be upset about.

So why were you so upset about it anyway?

The cameras were really going off now, the yelling even more intense now that there was a whole crowd of people in the shot and not just two. It was hard not to feel slightly overwhelmed by the whole thing, but you smiled anyway. 

“First red carpet, yeah?” Isaac asked you, pulling your attention from the cameras. You nodded. His smile only grew wider.

“It’s weird, innit?” Colin asked. It was clear by his expression that he was sensing your discomfort. You let out a laugh at his question.

“Weird is a bit of an understatement.” You felt like you were living someone else’s life. In their shoes, in their dress, on the arm of their man. But you couldn’t very well tell them that, could you?

As the team began to disperse again, a voice called out from behind you.

“Richmond. My friends.”

Your blood ran cold, feet frozen to the ground below them.

Jamie turned when he realised you weren’t with him, a smile still on his face. When he looked at your expression, it instantly vanished.

“What’s wrong?”

“I- I have to-” You stammered, your eyes wild as they searched for an exit. When they found a bathroom, you pointed in its direction. “I’ll be-” You couldn’t even finish your sentence, the air trapped in your throat as you rushed away. The world around you began to spin, your ears feeling like they were filling with water. You thought you heard someone call your name, but you continued towards the bathroom. 

When you entered, you shut the door behind you before throwing the lock. You didn’t even realise how nauseous you were until you were falling in front of the toilet, dry heaving without anything coming up. The pounding in your chest was like a drum. On the other side of the door, you could hear someone knocking loudly, but the panic stopped you from moving.

He’s here.

He’s fucking here.

You knew there was a chance, a high one, that you would see him. But now the moment had arrived, and your mind and body weren’t anywhere near ready. 

You’re safe.

You’re fucking safe. 

Jamie won’t let anything happen to you. 

Slowly straightening, you turned to face yourself in the mirror. The tears were streaming down your face, and you were thankful for waterproof mascara and setting spray at this moment. Carefully, you took a paper towel and dabbed at your cheeks until the dampness was gone. The pounding on the door continued, and you could hear Jamie calling your name. Sighing at your reflection, you gave yourself a nod before heading to the door. Shaky fingers unlocked the door before pushing it open. 

“What’s happened?” Jamie asked, rounding on you the second you walked through the door. You opened your mouth to speak as his hands reached for you, holding your head on either side as he searched your eyes. 

“Jamie-”

“Jamie Tartt.”

You closed your eyes.

Pulling away from you, Jamie turned towards the source of the voice.

“Zava,” He said. 

Opening your eyes, you were greeted by the face that had haunted you for over a year. His long hair was pulled back, as it always was, and he was dressed in a cream coloured suit with a white undershirt. His eyes were trained on Jamie, as if he didn’t yet notice the presence next to him. You cowered behind Jamie, trying to remain unseen. 

“How are you, my tiny friend?” Zava asked, holding his hand out for Jamie, who stared at it for a moment before taking it in his. 

“Don’t recall us bein’ friends, exactly.” 

You pressed your lips together at the bluntness of the statement. Everyone in AFC Richmond knew how much Jamie hated Zava, and it was never appreciated by you more than it was at this moment. 

“Nice to see ya, mate,” Jamie said, in a clear closing of the conversation, before turning back to you. You watched Zava intently, waiting for him to leave. He turned to walk away, but at the last possible second, his eyes met yours, causing him to pause. 

Your name rolled off his tongue, and your entire world felt like it was going up in flames.

Jamie’s expression changed from annoyance to dumbfounded as he turned back to look at Zava. He was forgotten by Zava now, however, as his attention was completely on you. 

“You look lovely tonight,” He said quietly, taking a step towards you. Instinct had you taking a step away, your eyes jumping back to Jamie.

“What-” He said quietly, tilting his head further to understand. Lips pressed together in an effort not to cry, you reached forward and took Jamie’s hand in yours, giving it a squeeze. He stared at the contact, subconsciously entwining the fingers as everything came together in his mind. 

The transition from confusion to realisation was a painful one to see cross over his face. 

Jamie turned to Zava quickly, placing himself directly in front of you, like a shield. His hand, however, was still holding yours. 

“Alright, mate,” He said firmly. To anyone who didn’t know Jamie, they wouldn’t hear the anger in his quiet voice. But you did. Part of you was thankful for the public backdrop, or else you wouldn’t know what he would do with it. He began to lead you away, careful to keep himself between you and Zava.

“I’d love to get together sometime,” He called after the two of you, and when you turned, you found his eyes exclusively on you. “For tea. Or dinner, perhaps. To… catch up.” You began to shake your head, but Jamie was faster with the response.

“I don’t think so.” 

There wasn’t time for another word to be said, for Jamie turned and walked so quickly down the carpet that you were almost running to keep up with him, mostly in fear of being dragged. He led you inside the building, where people were slowly starting to file in for the start of the movie. Glancing down an empty hall, he pulled you a great distance down and waited a second before turning back to you. 

“I’ll kill him.” He sniffed. “Say the word and I’ll kill him.”

There wasn’t an ounce of humour in his voice.

You watched as he ran a hand down his face, before pointing in the direction of the door. His eyes were filled with a fire you had never seen before.

“If that prick eva comes near ya again, I’ll murder him with me bare hands.” He was damn near shouting now, his hands trembling in anger.

You were overwhelmed. Overwhelmed with fear, overwhelmed with anxiety, but in this moment, overwhelmed with something else, too.

Placing your hands on his shoulders, you brought him back to reality. Back to you. He froze, turning to face you once more. You held eye contact for a second before closing the space between yourself and him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and laying your head on his shoulder. A few moments passed before his arms snaked around your torso, burying his face into your shoulder. All you could smell was his cologne, and it was keeping you centred. 

“Let’s go watch the movie,” You mumbled. He pulled away, still close as he leaned down and placed his forehead against yours.

“We can leave,” He mumbled. You closed your eyes as he grabbed your fingers and ran his own across them. “If you want. I could take you home.” You shook your head lightly against his.

“Let’s stay.” 

He nodded, taking your hand and leading you back down the hallway. You felt lighter in this moment, lighter than you had in a long time. For even with a person who you viewed as a threat being so near, you knew you were safe. 

The auditorium was filled by the time the two of you had made your way in. So much so that the only seats were in the back. The two of you sat down, looking around anxiously. A few rows ahead, you could make out the Zava’s outline, making you recoil slightly in your seat.

“Can’t believe you fuckin’ dated him,” Jamie mumbled, as if reading your mind. “Ain’t he married?”

“Divorced now,” You told him. “After she found out about me, of course.” Though you refused to look at him, you could still feel his stare. Your eyes began to well up again as you wondered how Jamie would react to this news. The idea of him view lesser of you was unbearable. 

Instead, he took your hand in his again, filling the space between your fingers with his own. It didn’t feel like an act this time (although, it never really did with him). He brought the topside of your hand up to his mouth and gave it a kiss. A flash from the side let you know that someone caught a photo of the moment, but you didn’t turn to confirm it, and neither did he. The lights went out at that moment, the beginning credits starting on the screen. As everyone else applauded in excitement, you turned to face forward, scooting back in your seat and hoping it wasn’t a long one.

It was a long one, unfortunately, for when the credits began to roll and the audience began to applaud, you were being shaken awake by Jamie, your head laying on his shoulder. Disgruntled, you sat up, blindly joining the rest of the crowd as you clapped and hoped that your makeup hadn’t smudged during your accidental nap. 

“After party?” Jamie asked as he rose from his seat. Although by his tone, it was clear he already knew your answer. A snort left your mouth as you shook your head.

“If by that you mean me ordering pizza and laying on my couch in my knickers, then yes.” 

He pressed his lips together before saying, “Sounds like the kind of after party I’d want to be invited to.” 

You didn’t get the chance to respond as you and him got sucked into the crowd exiting the building. He was looking around as if searching for something, finally pulling you in the direction of the bathrooms. 

“Be right back,” He said just outside the door, kissing your cheek before disappearing through the bathroom door. You leaned against the wall and watched the people walk by. Celebrities of all statuses passed by without a single glance in your direction. The weirdness of the day fell over you again. 

Somewhere amongst the crowd, you heard someone call your name, and when you turned, you saw Dani, Richard, Isaac and Bumbercatch heading towards you. Behind them was Zava, his intense stare making you shrink inside yourself. 

“We are going out for drinks and karaoke!” Dani exclaimed excitedly. “Zava’s treat.” You allowed yourself a glance at the retired footballer, before looking back at Dani.

“That sounds fun!” You said, trying not to sound too strained.

“Are you and Tartt comin’?” Richard asked. You inhaled deeply, looking at the bathroom briefly before turning back to him.

“You guys go ahead, I’ll find Jamie.” 

They nodded in agreement before wandering off, but it wasn’t lost on you that one of them stayed behind. Zava approached you, making you press your entire body into the wall.

“Please come,” He said in a low voice, his hand reaching up to your cheek. You jerked away, but he still forced his touch against your skin. It began to burn at the contact, and you felt your breathing rate increase. “I am divorced now. We can discuss… us.” You rolled your eyes.

“I’m taken,” You said simply, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s over.” He let out a loud laugh. 

“You can’t possibly think that Tartt is any sort of upgrade.” 

“Compared to you? A soggy lunch sack would be an upgrade.” 

The both of you turned to see Roy Kent, standing with fists at his sides. Relief overflowed you. Zava swallowed hard. 

“This does not involve you, Kent.” Roy shrugged.

“The problem is, I don’t give a fuck,” He said in his most sarcastic voice. You bit back a smile, so grateful for Roy at this moment. The hand dropped from your face, and you felt like you could breathe again. Zava began rounding on Roy, who tipped his chin up towards him.

“What’s going on?”

You turned to see Jamie, who’s eyes were on Zava. Suddenly, he was once again between the two of you. 

“Zava here was just leaving,” Roy said, tilting his head towards the doorway as he narrowed his eyes at Zava. Zava looked back at Jamie, who also had fists at the ready by his sides. Though he didn’t have the height that Zava possessed, you knew who would win in a fight, and with Roy by his side? Zava didn’t stand a chance.

Without another glance in your direction, Zava whipped around and stalked out the door. Roy and Jamie stared in that direction until they were sure he wasn’t coming back. 

“Thanks, mate,” Jamie said to Roy, who grunted.

“Wasn’t for you.” 

You smiled softly.

“Thank you, Roy.”

He nodded, not saying another word before walking off. Jamie sighed sharply before turning back to you. 

“Home?” He asked gently. You took his hand in yours. Part of you considered telling him about the afterparty with the team, but, selfishly, you decided not to.

“Please.”

Before you knew it, you were safe in the backseat of the car. A sigh forced it’s way out of your mouth as you laid back in the seat. All of the evening’s anxieties filled your head as your brain finally forced you to feel them all at once. Tears quietly streamed down your face, your eyes trained on the soft roof of the car. 

Seeing him… The way he looked at you…

It was too much.

“Hey,” Jamie whispered when he looked at you, turning to face you. Sniffling, you tried to turn your head away from him, but he hooked a finger under your chin and forced you to look at him. Hand on either side of your head, he wiped your tears away. “You’re alright, love.”

Was it him? Was it you? It was hard to say. But somewhere among the tender moment, you found yourself kissing him. The privacy of the back of the car allowed for more passion, more intensity behind the kiss this time. He pulled you out of the lap belt until you were straddling him in his seat. While your hands were still on his face, his found your legs, pushing your dress up your thighs until his fingers were curling around the fabric of the thin thong you wore underneath. Against your thigh, you could feel him grow hard.

The car came to a stop in front of your house, but you barely registered it as your fingers tangled in his hair. He whispered your name against your lips, seeming to pull away, but you desperately leaned forward and caught his mouth against yours once more.

“Stay,” You mumbled between kisses. “Please. Stay."

~

TAGS

@daffieapple, @my-left-sock, @buckybarnex, @jelleeyfish, @ricciardhoe3, @picked-off-by-barzal, @lilweirdgal, @hotdoglamp, @loveslide, @rosea-h, @13-7-19-67-71. @wickedheartz, @xxenia14, @zazima, @alainabooks143, @geek-and-proud, @imagines-reblogged, @fuckifuckedup, @booklovingduck, @loveforaugust, @f1maverick, @jamieroyjamieroy, @meisterdani, @hanybunch, @batsy-bats1, @brianandthemays, @heletsmelovehim, @breepboopbap, @jellycolors

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

The Right Place in Time

Summary: What if Steve was in the woods with Chrissy and Eddie getting weed for his headaches?

@disrespectedgoatman

Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Steve lay on Chrissy's bed with her in the middle while Eddie lay on her other side. Steve was caressing her forehead while Eddie gently rubbed her back while they whispered words of comfort to her. She wasn't asleep, and it didn't seem like she was going to sleep anytime soon despite the fact that she looked exhausted. Robin and Vickie were lying on the floor in sleeping bags next to the bed. They were whispering loudly, assuming that everyone had fallen asleep. Vickie was saying something about being very off with Dan and the next thing they knew, Vickie was making a reveal to Robin that wasn't meant for their ears. Steve assumed that it wasn't meant for their ears, anyway.

"I'm bisexual, Robin," Vickie whispered loudly and giggled but paused when Eddie accidentally let out a gasp. "Oh God, they heard me."

"Yes, we heard you say something about bicycles. Weird conversation topic, but alright," Eddie said.

"I know you heard me say I'm bisexual, Eddie," Vickie giggled. "Thank you for trying to cover it up but I don't mind you guys knowing."

"Well, as a fellow bisexual I felt it was my duty to help cover up any accidental outings," Eddie said.

"You're bisexual too?" Steve asked. "So am I."

"Oh my God! Am I the only lesbian in the room?" Robin asked.

"Yes, but think of it this way, you are not the only queer person in here," Vickie said and then gasped. "No, you're not the only friend of Dorothy here. I love that saying."

"Only because you're obsessed with the Wizard of Oz," Chrissy snorted.

"What's not to love?" Vickie asked.

"We should definitely watch that when this is all over," Robin said.

"Are you asking me on a date, Robin?" Vickie asked.

"Do you want me to be asking you on a date?" Robin asked nervously.

"Oh god," Steve said, and Eddie laughed.

"Yes," Vickie giggled.

"Then yes, I am," Robin said.

"I gladly accept," Vickie said.

Suddenly, Vickie began singing "Over the Rainbow." Everyone laughed but soon joined in. After that, they all drifted off to sleep. When they woke up the next morning, there was breakfast on the table and a note from Vickie's dad saying that he got called into work.

"What does your dad do, Vickie?" Steve asked as he and Robin fixed each other's plate.

Eddie smiled at them as he fixed his own plate and Chrissy's. Chrissy groaned at Steve's question, and Eddie looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, he cuts open people and removes their insides," Vickie grinned.

"What?!" Steve, Eddie, and Robin exclaimed as they nearly dropped their plates.

"He's a surgeon," Vickie explained, giggling, and they all sighed in relief.

"You have to stop explaining your dad's job to people like that, Vick," Chrissy said, shaking her head and smiling.

"I mean, he does do that, right?" Eddie asked. "I like you, Fisher."

Vickie giggled. They sat around the table and quietly ate their breakfast.

"I have to ask," Chrissy said softly. "What if the monster comes after me again?"

"We should definitely stop him," Vickie frowned.

"We'd have to find him first," Robin said.

"Most likely, he'd be in the Upside Down. Wouldn't he?" Eddie frowned. "Maybe he's trying to use you somehow to come through?"

"That's sounds possible," Chrissy said. "It did seem like he wanted something from me."

"You said that you had headaches and nightmares, right?" Steve asked, and Chrissy nodded. "What if he's targeting other people? I've been having headaches and nightmares lately. I thought maybe that it was because of what I've been through."

"Have you been having nosebleeds?" Chrissy asked.

"No," Steve frowned.

"Well, if you haven't had any, then probably not," Chrissy said. "Then again, we don't know for sure."

"Well, he probably is targeting other people," Vickie said. "How would we find that out?"

They sat around the breakfast, looking thoughtfully at their plates as they half-heartedly finished their food. Chrissy dropped her fork.

"Oh! Ms. Kelly! I've been talking to her. Maybe other students have too," Chrissy said.

"So, we just ask her?" Steve asked.

"No, we have to look at her files because she's not going to just tell us," Chrissy said.

"Which means breaking into her office," Eddie sighed.

"I'm sorry, Eddie," Chrissy said softly.

"Yeah, I guess this means I'll be using those lovely skills my dad taught me," Eddie grinned, the smile not reaching his eyes.

"Look at it this way. You'll be using them for good. Using them to help people," Chrissy said gently.

Eddie smiled, his eyes lighting up. He leaned over and kissed her cheek. Steve grinned at them, leaning on his elbows to watch them.

"Oh, look at that, Stevie's feeling left out again," Eddie said. "I'll fix that."

He crawled across the table towards Steve, causing Vickie and Chrissy to shriek with laughter. Eddie grabbed Steve’s face and planted a slobbery wet kiss on his cheek.

"Dumbass!" Robin shrieked. "You spilled bacon into my lap."

Once they cleaned up, they all climbed into Steve’s car again. Chrissysatg in the passenger's seat andpattedg her lap at Eddie.

"You want me to sit in your lap?" Eddie asked.

"My thighs are very strong," Chrissy said.

"Oh, alright. I'm always up for trying something new," Eddie grinned and crawled into her lap. "Hmm, I like this. I feel like a princess."

"You are a princess, Eddie. A very pretty princess," Chrissy said and kissed his cheek.

Steve grinned when Eddie giggled, blushing.

"Don't worry, big boy," Eddie said. "Next time, someone else can drive, and you can sit in my lap."

"I'm holding you to that, princess," Steve said and squeezed his knee.

The radio tucked under Steve’s seat crackled to life, and Dustin's voice screeched through.

"Steve?! This is Dustin. Where the hell are you? Over!"

Robin picked it up, and Eddie made grabby hands at her. She sighed and handed him the radio.

"Ground control, this is Major Tom. Over," Eddie grinned.

"Eddie, this is no time for jokes!" Dustin shrieked. "Is Steve with you? Over."

"Take your protein pills and put your helmet on," Eddie sang into the radio, and Chrissy giggled into his shoulder.

"Eddie!"

"Relax, shrimp, your mother is here as well as your other father. Your auntie Robin and Aunt Vickie are here too," Eddie said.

"I'm the other dad?" Chrissy asked with a gasp.

"Of course, darling!" Eddie exclaimed.

"Yes!" Chrissy giggled.

"You're supposed to say over, Eddie!" Dustin exclaimed. "What's going on? How's Chrissy? Over."

Chrissy smiled and nodded at the radio. Eddie held it to her mouth.

"I'm fine. Thank you for asking, Dustin," Chrissy said. "I have a broken arm, and my abusive mother tried to show up and take me away, but she's out of my life now. Over!"

"Yes, we all had an emergency sleepover at Chrissy's uncle, who's also Vickie's dad. Over," Eddie said.

"You had a sleepover without us? Over," Lucas came on the radio.

Vickie moved forward, and Eddie gladly held the radio to her mouth.

"I'll happily invite you and the rest of Hellfire over for a slumber party after this is all over. Me and my dad don't believe in any of the Satanism nonsense that they say about you. This is Vickie, by the way. Over!" She said cheerfully.

"Hell yeah! Over!" Gareth's voice came over the radio.

"What are you guys doing right now?" Dustin asked. "Over."

"We're following a lead, and if you're good, then Mommy and Daddies will bring you back a toy," Eddie said with a grin. "Over."

"No! No! If you're going to be following any leads on what's happening with Chrissy, you're going to need me!" Dustin shrieked. "Over!"

"The ego on this kid," Steve scoffed.

"It's his tone, right?" Eddie asked.

Chrissy giggled and pulled the radio to her face.

"Dustin, I appreciate the help, but I think you'd do better researching safely in the library, don't you think?" Chrissy asked. "Over."

"What, pray tell, would I be researching?" Dustin asked. "Over."

"I'm sure with your big smart brain of yours you can find anything," Chrissy said sweetly. "Over."

"Yeah, yeah, okay. Thanks, Lady Hellfire," Dustin said. "Over."

"You're a witch," Eddie said, accusingly.

"Yeah, Lady Hellfire, Wicked Witch of Hawkins," Chrissy said with a grin. "That's me."

"If you ever decided to play D&D, that would be an awesome name," Eddie said, and she giggled.

Steve smiled as he listened to them talk about turning one of Chrissy's spare uniforms into a Hellfire uniform. He listened to them laugh as Chrissy joked about making one for him and Steve. His hear swelled with each laughter. They already agreed to go on one date, but would it be too soon to call them his boyfriend and girlfriend? Hmm, what about lovers? Having both at the same time never even occurred to him even when he discovered that he was bisexual. It was a nice feeling, though. Steve’s eyes wondered to the backseat where his best friend was leaning her head close to her own interest and whispering with a wide grin on her face. Things were going well for them in that department. Now, all they had to do was save Chrissy. Shouldn't be too hard, should it? Robin caught his eyes, her eyes twinkling and hope fueled his veins.

Chapter Six

[whysamwhy123]

Because I truly have a problem, here's even more OrangeHook. A random idea I had, too short for AO3, wrote this in like fifteen minutes so it probably sucks but whatever.

He figured Hook would get a kick out of this. An old photograph of him, from over a decade ago. He’s grinning like an idiot, surrounded by what was at the time his group of friends. Some of those guys he hasn’t spoken to in years. But some he still keeps up with. Or he’s at least aware that they’re doing okay. And Chuck’s there, of course.

But Hook, naturally, is focused only on him. ‘’How old were you here?’’

‘’About your age,’’ Orange answers.

Hook hums. Orange studies his expression, but he finds he can’t read it. The kid can’t take his eyes off it, but that could mean a lot of things.

Orange decides to go ahead and ask the number one thing on his mind right now.

‘’So, would you date me?’’

Hook looks over, an eyebrow raised. ‘’Uh, I already am?’’

Orange points to his past self in the picture. ‘’No, I meant me when I was the same age as you. Would you date him?’’

Hook’s lips purse. There’s a noticeable pause.

‘’Sure,’’ he says eventually. Not super convincing.

Orange shakes his head, chuckling. ‘’You really do have an old man thing, huh?’’

‘’Old person thing,’’ Hook insists. ‘’And I don’t, actually. I’ve dated plenty of people my own age. It’s just a…preference.’’

‘’Uh huh,’’ Orange says. He realises he doesn’t want to discuss this particular topic in much depth. He hopes Hook will drop it.

The younger man’s eyes travel back to the photo and then to Orange’s face, as if comparing and contrasting. He raises a hand and gently traces his fingertips along Orange’s jaw, and then up to cup his cheek. His touch is warm, familiar. Orange freezes in place to allow the far-from-unwelcome touch.

‘’Don’t take this the wrong way,’’ Hook says. ‘’But…you grew into your looks.’’

Orange smiles. He’s heard that before. It feels more like a compliment coming from Hook.

‘’We can’t all be Forever Pretty, like you,’’ he jokes.

Hook nods. ‘’Yeah. I can’t imagine the struggle.’’

What a little shit. Orange playfully bats his hand away.

Hook just smirks back at him. ‘’There was this girl I used to date -’’

Orange gives him a look.

Hook rolls his eyes. ‘’This woman I used to have a thing with. She was…’’ He trails off.

‘’My age?’’ Orange finishes for him.

‘’A little older,’’ Hook corrects. ‘’She used to tell me one of the most annoying things about men was how well they age. She’d keep telling me how good I was gonna look when I hit fifty.’’

Orange snorts. Not because he disagrees, it’s just…funny imaging that as someone’s idea of pillow talk. But maybe that’s just the type of people that Hook used to pursue…

‘’I’m looking forward to seeing that for myself,’’ Orange says.

Hook’s smile grows. He casts his eyes back to the photograph. It’s like he can’t look away for too long.

‘’You should let me take some new pictures,’’ he says.

‘’Of me?’’

‘’Yeah. My camera’s way better than whatever crappy old thing spat this out. And I actually know how to frame an image. And what lighting would work best for your skin tone and -’’

‘’Alright, alright, I get the idea,’’ Orange is curious though. ‘’What kind of pictures were you thinking of?’’

Hook meets his gaze. There’s a glint in his eye. Orange is a big fan.

‘’Good ones,’’ Hook says simply.

[mery-cm99]

Vixen ~ Nikolai Lantsov (Chapter 6)

Masterlist

Description: Vixen is one of the Crows. Kaz saved her a long time ago. He’s the only one who knows the truth about Vixen. He’s the only one who knows her past, her secret. That’s until a certain privateer shows up in Ketterdam looking for a living Saint.

Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x fem!OC

Warnings: Mention of trauma, blood, war and sad stuff in general. English is not my first language, so sorry in advance for any grammar or spelling errors. The sign language used in this story is made up and does not correspond with any official one. The story is based on the series, not the books.

Rating: Teens and up

Chapter 6/6

Word Count: 1,722 words

Writer’s note: Ugh. This man has me on chokehold.

Last one in a while... (at list for this fic. If you want more OS from him or any other topic. Just ask :))

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Vixen was standing next to Kaz when Alina, Mal, Nina and Inej returned to the fort with the news that Kirigan was dead. So she saw firsthand how her boss's gaze was fixed on the Wraith. Vixen knew that there was something much stronger between the two of them than there was between two comrades. She had seen them look at each other that way on too many occasions. Vixen and Jesper had a bet to see which of them would confess first. She claimed it would be Inej.

Seeing that Kaz wasn't going to say anything, Vixen approached Inej when Jesper stopped hugging her excitedly. Inej gave her a smile which Vixen returned.

<<I'm glad to see you, Inej>> she assured, placing special emphasis on her name. It was formed by her thumb and forefinger crossed in the shape of a cross over her lips. Vixen was the one who decided the sign that represented the names and only the people most important to her were given the honor of having their own sign. Inej's was for her belief in the Saints. She was the reason Vixen still believed in them. That was why Inej hugged her when she saw her signing hers.

“Thank you. My country might have been sunk if you haven't arrived," Nikolai spoke, drawing the crows' attention. Vixen looked at him. He still had dried blood on one side of his face. His weight was not resting on his injured leg and there was blood on his left shoulder. He looked bad, but it could have been worse. If she hadn't created the whirlwind of water... She didn't want to think about it.

“We'll settle those thanks in gold," Kaz spoke, eliciting a sideways smile from the prince.

“Of course. And if any of you want to stay in Ravka. You're welcome," he added, looking at each one of them. Vixen felt his gaze burn into her as he turned it towards her. It was clear he meant her. She was the only one of the Crows -apart from Nina- who was ravkan.

Kaz nodded for all of them and the prince left with the help of Tamar and Tolya, not without the latter giving Vixen a smile and a nod. She returned it. She had ended up growing fond of the shu man after all.

“Are you going to stay or come back to ketterdam with us?” Kaz asked when the two of them were alone. He knew her well enough to know she was thinking about it.

“I don't know what to do, Kaz. The Crows are the best thing that has happened to me since I lost my parents. I am the way I am now because of you. But I'm a grisha. I have to understand what that means," she explained.

“Then you must stay. The Crows will always have a place for you. When you think it's time to come back.”

Vixen nodded. She wanted to hug him, or shake his hand, in a way to thank him, but she restrained herself, assuming it would not be to his liking.

“Thank you, Kaz," she said, signing his name. The Crows leader’s name was the index finger curved over her forehead. As if it were a hook that would draw out an idea. She had put it on for his brilliant mind. “For all you've done for me over the years.”

Kaz nodded. He didn't say anything, but Vixen didn't need him to.

The farewell with the rest of the crows was somewhat emotional. After three years and as much as she had avoided having ties in Ketterdam, Vixen had grown fond of them. The first one she said goodbye to was Jesper, who hugged her tightly.

“Now who's going to make fun of the rest of Ketterdam with me, and who am I going to gossip with about the rumors of the Barrel?” he complained, eliciting a giggle from the girl. “I'm going to miss you, Vix. Even when you barely spoke," Vixen smacked his arm, as usual. “And your punches. I'm going to miss you hitting me. I never thought I'd say that.”

<<I'm going to miss you too, Jesper>> She assured. His name was two guns firing.

“Who's going to defend me from the bullies now? I can't lose my guardian angel.”

Then she moved on to Wylan, who was standing next to the gunslinger and trying not to cry.

<<You don't need it, Wylan. You're stronger than you think>> she assured him, remarking the W of his name over her heart. Wylan hugged her tightly.

Inej offered her one of her knives.

“Remember me when you wield it. Though I hope you don't have to.”

Vixen pocketed the knife and handed Inej one of her daggers.

<<Keep it, until we meet again. And tell Tolya that I will never forget his words>> she asked. She had heard that Inej was leaving on Sturmhond's ship with Tolya, Tamar and Mal. The latter being the new Sturmhond now that Nikolai was the new king of Ravka.

When she reached Nina she used her voice, though she was still speaking by signs. The heartrender did not yet know the language.

“Get your man out of Hellgate. I'd like to go with you, but I have to learn to control my power first.”

“I will, Vixen. Thank you. “

She managed to hold back tears until she saw them board the ship back to Ketterdam. She hadn't finished understanding what it meant to stay there until she saw them leave without her. Now that she was back in Ravka, where her mother was more present, it was harder for her to keep Anya hidden. Vixen was the offspring of Silverfox. She was the result of mixing the world's greatest thief with a past full of pain and death. But Anya was her mother's daughter. She had a kind heart and a grisha power that she had to learn to control before someone got hurt because of it. And although they were two completely different versions, the girl had understood that she was both, and that she had to learn to combine them. So, when she could no longer see the crows on the horizon, she returned to the castle to talk to Zoya.

A couple of days later, on the morning of King Nikolai's coronation, Vixen was in the palace courtyards with Zoya. The Squaller was teaching her how to control her grisha power.

“Little science is just that, science. Water is the essence of life. It is in everything around us. You just have to feel at one with it," Zoya was saying as Vixen concentrated on controlling the whirlpool of water she had created. It was not too big, but it was more controllable that way.

The grisha's speech was cut off, which caught the girl's attention. Seeing who was approaching, Vixen lost all her concentration and the whirlwind came to a screeching halt, drenching Zoya and herself. The squaller gave her a nasty look, so Vixen shrugged, trying to hide a smile. Nikolai seemed to find it amusing, because by the time he reached them he was laughing.

“Classes are over for the day," Zoya declared, pulling on her soaked kefta. “Moi Tsar," she saluted with a bow before walking off and leaving them alone.

“Vixen. I didn't think you would consider my offer," Nikolai spoke. Vixen kept her gaze on the king's hands.

Although it had been a couple of days since everything had ended, she hadn't seen him since. Nikolai had been very busy with preparations for his coronation and reigning a country that was once again united. And she had spent most of her time with Zoya, Genya and Alina, learning everything the three grisha could teach her.

“Actually it’s Anya, Moi Tsar. Anya Makarov," she indicated with a small bow, accompanied by signs out of habit.

It was the first time he had heard her speak, and Nikolai was captivated by her voice. That's why it took him a moment to understand her words. Vixen dared to look at him and saw the moment when Nikolai understood the truth.

“You are the daughter of Sonya Makarov, the old king's official Tidemaker," he guessed aloud. Vixen nodded.

Nikolai tried to remember everything he knew about the woman. He was barely twelve when the woman had left the palace. But he remembered the conmotion when they realized that the grisha had fled the country with her husband and daughter. The king had felt deeply betrayed and had sent a group of grisha, Heartrenders, to track her down and capture her. Nikolai had never heard the end of the story, but he could guess from what Tolya had told him: Vixen had confessed to him that Heartrenders had killed her mother.

“I'm deeply sorry, Anya. I had no idea," he apologized sincerely. Vixen felt heat flood her cheeks as she heard him refer to her by her real name. It was the first time anyone had used it in far too long. And she had to admit it sounded very sweet in his voice.

“Don't apologise, Moi Tsar. It wasn't your fault," she assured.

“Call me Nikolai, please," he asked, a little uncomfortable with the fact that the girl kept referring to him that way, as if he was an unreachable being. “Why do you prefer to use sign language instead of speaking with your voice?” he asked curiously. He had been wondering that since Tolya had told him that she was indeed not mute.

“My father was deaf, so I learned sign language when I was very young. When my mother died I only communicated with him, so I stopped relying on my voice and got used to using my hands. I guess after he died too I kept up the habit so I didn't lose him altogether.”

“A deaf thief. I've never heard anything like that before. And a very good one, if I’m well informed" the blond man commented in amusement. Vixen let a small smile break out on her lips. Nikolai thought it was the prettiest one he had ever seen. Maybe because it was the first one he'd get from the girl, like seeing the sun after hundreds of years hidden in the Fold.

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I really want to continue with the story. I love Vixen and how her character has turned out. But there is no more content with the series and I haven't read the books (yet). I had thought about continuing on my own, moving away from canon. What do you think? Maybe I'll do single chapters without continuity between them so I don't stray too far from the canon. Leave me feedback in the coments, please.

Taglist:

1.@going-through-shit

[staticscreenwriting]

maybe the night would take me home II Frankie Morales

Part 1 : "Divorce And The American South"  & "The Thunderbird Inn"

a Frankie Morales Story inspired by the album  "We Don't Have Each Other" by  Aaron West and the Roaring Twenties.

A/N : This imagine series will deal with sensitive topics please see my tags for TW. Please proceed with caution. Also there’s mention of smoking and alcohol. English is not my native language, go easy on me please. Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated

There's a hole in the wall and a square where the wallpaper is a lighter shade of beige than the rest. There probably used to be a painting or a mirror. The ceiling fan is missing one of its blades and there's a huge rip in the ugly brown curtain that's blocking the street lights from flooding the room.

He can just about make out the glow coming from the street light in front of his window. There used to be more color permeating the thin curtains and throwing kaleidoscope patterns into his motel room but people have started to take down their Christmas lights leaving him with just the ugly yellow of the street lamp.

The motel room is dull and gray and hopeless and broken and ugly and Frankie thinks it's fitting because that's exactly how he feels and really, he doesn’t mind it all that much.

The clerk at the front desk, he wants to say his name is Steve, is nice, and always pours him a cup of coffee whenever he finds Frankie sitting in the tiny lobby area of the Motel where the vending machines are. The coffee isn’t good but it’s warm and that’s enough these days.

“Long night?” he asks and every time Frankie nods and says “Sure has been.” Steve then grants him one of those smiles that lets you know the person is looking straight through your lie but they’re way too nice to call you out on your bullshit. 

“Well, tomorrow’s a new day. Hope that one is better,” he replies, every time.

Frankie nods again knowing full well it won’t be.

He’s given Frankie a break on the rent this week. 

“Look don’t you worry about it. Just make sure you pay me back with next week’s rent. I know you’re good for it.” 

“I probably am.” 

Steve was laughing then. He probably won’t laugh when he hears that Frankie’s coming up short again this week.

Back in his tiny motel room, his clammy hands grab the room's phone tightly. It will probably cost him a fortune to use it — again — though after throwing it against a solid brick wall, his cell phone is but a piece of junk left somewhere by the side of the truck stop. 

He doesn't really need it anyway. Too many pictures and memories and shit he doesn't want to think about because he can’t get it back.  

He takes another sip from the bottle. He thinks it's whiskey but he might be wrong. It all tastes the same these days.

Calling her won’t do any good and he knows but he can't help himself. It's like an itch that he just has to scratch. It's like a desperate need that he has to satisfy. It's like an addiction he has to feed.

It's 2 in the morning and she's most likely asleep and Frankie hates himself for waking her up. She's lost enough sleep as it is. But his mind is so loud and he needs to get all of these things off his chest. All the things he didn't say when he should have, when it counted, when it meant something, when she needed him to.

It's not the first time he's called either. He wonders if she'll ever pick up.

There's a perfectly clear picture burned into his mind of the first time he'd called her after he left. He had been stranded at some run-down truck stop that could've been the perfect location for the first kill in a horror movie. There was a bottle of water in his hand and the phone receiver in the other.

He can't recall how long he'd spent inside the phone booth reading her number out loud and trying to work up the courage to call her but he knows it's been quite a while. And when he did he was met with the dial tone. With every beep his heart sunk a little further, felt a little heavier.

" Hello this is Y/N, I can't pick up the phone right now but feel free to leave a message after the tone and I'll ring you back. Ok, bye. "

Her voice sounded so cheery and he remembers the tears threatening to leave his eyes at the sound of it. She hadn't sounded this cheery in a long long time and his heart broke knowing that was partially his fault.

" Hey Y/N, It's me .... Frankie. If you’re listening can you please pick up the phone? I know you're home. "

He could still recall her daily schedule better than anything, after all, they had been living together for years.

" I know where I went wrong. I really do. I uh— I'm at a truck stop. Not sure where I'm going yet but I'll call you. Please talk to me, baby. I love you. "

He remembers his heart breaking and breaking more and shattering and it hasn't been fixed yet. There's that little cynical corner of his brain that tells him it never will be fixed. All good things come to an end sooner or later and this is THE good thing in his life. She is the best thing. She was the chance he never thought he’d get. A shot at redemption.

That other day he found a bar just outside the township line. He goes most every night now whenever he can feel a bad night coming. All nights are bad nights now. The floors are sticky and the bar is dusty but the drinks are cheap and the barkeeper doesn’t bother to get him tangled up in any kind of conversation. All Frankie gets is a look of pity as he pours him another drink. Fuck, he didn’t know that he looks that pathetic. 

The alcohol doesn’t numb his heart the way it used to. Back when he woke up in a cold sweat with visions of a life he tried so hard to leave behind he could always count on the inside of a bottle to make the demons disappear for a while. Then when that stopped working, the drugs managed to do it. 

And then when he hit rock bottom, for some inexplicable reason, life chose to send him her and she made every other coping mechanism pale in comparison. Her love did not make the demons go away, or the fear, or the guilt. Her love made him realize that he could live a good life regardless. That even the worst parts of him are worthy of love. 

He thinks she might’ve been wrong.

There's a half-empty pack of cigarettes laying on the nightstand. He hasn't touched them for a while. Got them at that same truck stop where he smashed his phone but only smoked half a pack before he remembered that promise he made her a long time ago, back when she had first told him, back when they were happy.

And he failed. Because for a while he’d felt like the reason he stopped smoking in the first place had vanished. If there was no one to promise something to, was there even a promise to begin with? 

The cigarettes bring back memories of the second time he'd called her. It was right after he arrived here, at this very same motel. With the very same peeling wallpaper and the chipped door and the ceiling fan that is missing one blade and the carpet with the burn marks. The same motel he is basically succumbing in right now.

He was less nervous the second time he'd called her, less nervous but more fucked up. Half drunk on cheap whiskey and half drunk on the infinite sadness he's felt ever since their life went to shit.

This time he didn't make himself believe she'd pick up. He knew she wouldn't and maybe that was a good thing. Frankie didn't want her to know he was shitfaced, that he tried to numb the pain with past vices he promised to leave behind.

" Hey Y/N "

As the words rolled off his lips there was no doubt in his mind that she'd still know. He sounded drunk. He hated it.

" Just wanted to tell you that uh — I uh I've been trying to quit. I went from a pack and a half a day to this e-cigarette bullshit. "

It had been a stupid idea, thinking this e-cigarette shit would do anything for him but it was worth a try. Everything was worth a try for her.

" It stops the coughing fits. I know that you always hated my smoking habit. I hope you can be a little proud of me. I know I don't deserve it. I love you, bye."

There was a time, Frankie thinks and scoffs, when he thought love was enough. What a fool he'd been. Now he knows that's all proper bullshit.

It isn't like he doesn't love her, he loves her entirely too much for his own good. 

It's that too much love can destroy you. It eats you up from the inside out.

He can't keep himself from loving her though, and from holding onto that little spark of hope that she might still love him back. After all they've been through, all they had to endure, the thought that she might one day forgive him and love him again was the only thing still keeping him afloat. Without her, he'd sink. And maybe, he thinks, maybe love is enough. It's enough to make him go on.

There's a fly buzzing around the room, sitting down on Frankie’s arm from time to time. He doesn't have the energy to swat her away.

A little voice in his mind wonders what would happen if he just kept laying here. Maybe if he only lays here long enough, maybe the bugs will eat him alive. Maybe the night will swallow him and take him home. Maybe she’ll come looking for him.

His mind wanders off to places he tried hard to forget. To the tears and the pain and the way she didn't yell at him. Not once.

She didn't scream or yell or throw stuff at him. She just stared and let it all wash over her as if she was invincible.

He knew she wasn't. Knows she isn’t now. She wasn't invincible but she was too deeply wounded to care anymore and that was the most terrifying part of it all.

He wanted her to yell so he knew she still cared.

He thinks of the dream and how he saw himself, lifeless, alone. How everyone was looking at him as they lowered his casket into the ground. How his friends were there, his brother, his family, and even the neighbors. Not her though. She wasn't there.

His fingers are dialing the familiar numbers before he can even fully register what's happening.

There's the dial tone that he's grown to know so well lately. Three more and he gets to hear her voice.

Two.

One.

" Hello this is Y/N, I can't pick up the phone right now but feel free to leave a message after the tone and I'll ring you back. Ok, bye. "

Lies. She won’t call back. But that's okay, he understands why she doesn’t. Why she can’t.

" Y/N It's me again. Frankie. "

He combs his fingers through his hair nervously.

" Of course, it's me, who else would call you at this time? I'm sorry. "

He's been saying sorry an awful lot lately. Especially considering the fact that he hasn't been very generous with that word when it really mattered.

" I had a dream. About you. Well not exactly about you. Actually, you weren't in it and that's kind of the problem. "

Remembering the dream sends a cold shiver down his back.

" I uh — I was on a plane. I flew back north, no idea where I wanted to go. All I know is that I didn't make it there. Plane went down like it was made of paper. They were all at the funeral. My funeral. Everyone. Not you though. You — You weren't there Y/N. That scares me. I hope you'd come to the funeral. I'd want you there. "

He knows it's time. She's not gonna pick up anytime soon so this might be his only chance of ever getting to admit his faults of ever talking about the actual problem, the root of all the pain and heartbreak. It's not face-to-face but it's the next best thing. It's his only shot.

" Y/N, I know I fucked up. I do know. It's just after it happened. After — "

Saying it out loud will make it real. It will break his heart once again. He's an adult though and has been running from his issues long enough. This stupid urge to flee made this all so much worse.

Take a breath.

And face the reality.

" After it happened. When we lost the baby I just, I shut off. I shut you out and I am so sorry. I just, I needed to be strong for you but I wasn't. All I did was push you away. I never listened. I wasn't there. I should've been there for you to help you get through this but I was too busy keeping myself from bursting at the seams. Fuck, I was so selfish. If I could change the way I treated you, treated the situation, trust me I would. I would. I miss her so much Y/N and I never even got to meet her and I didn't want to put this all-consuming sadness on you so I pulled away. I didn't want to make you hurt even more than you already were but that's exactly what I did and I will never forgive myself for that. I hope you can though. I love you so much. "

There's a hole in his chest the size of a newborn.

It's the size of a little baby girl he never got to meet. A little baby girl he always imagined would have his eyes and her mother's breathtaking smile. A little baby girl he'd raise to be brave and generous and smart and wonderful. 

There is a hole in his chest the size of a little baby girl and he knows it will never fully heal.

He should've been there for her, his wife, the mother of his child. He had tried so hard, so hard to hide his sadness and pain from her instead of embracing it with her by his side. He should've been there with her so they could hold each other above the waters. But he let her drown by herself and he would never fully forgive himself for that.

" I love you Y/N and I'm coming home soon I promise. That's if you still want to see me. I won't let you go through the darkness alone anymore though. I love you. "

He hangs up the phone and without a warning, the tears roll down his cheeks. They're the silent kind, the painful kind. But for once, since it all happened they're not entirely from sadness, a small part of him is feeling a little lighter now that he's faced reality. A small part of him cries tears of relief. A small part of him still believes that maybe things with his wife can work out again if only he can show her how much he cares and loves her. That he can hold her hand even through the darkest of times.

A small part of him knows that it can't get worse than this.

A small part of him, a small part knows she loves him back. Even with that gray cloud hanging over him reminding him of the paperwork that might be waiting for him at home. 

There's a hole in the wall and a square where the wallpaper is a lighter shade of beige than the rest. There probably used to be a painting or a mirror. The ceiling fan is missing one of its blades and there's a huge rip in the ugly brown curtain that's blocking the street lights from flooding the room.

is dull and gray and hopeless and broken and ugly and Frankie thinks that things can only get better from here on out.

It’s 2am when he sneaks out of his room and past the lobby. Steve will forgive him, he’s sure of it. For the two weeks' rent and for not saying goodbye. 

The world is fast asleep as his car takes him down the empty streets towards the bar he found some resemblance of comfort in for the last few weeks.

One last drink, he tells himself. But this one won’t be for the bad days ahead. This one will mark a page turned, a step taken.

“Whiskey?” the barkeeper inquires, already pulling the bottle from the shelf. 

“Gimme a beer instead. Whatever bottles you have in the fridge is fine.” 

No more words are exchanged as the barkeeper hands Frankie the cold bottle.

This one’s for the daughter he’ll never meet, he thinks, and the wife who shouldn’t love him no more but god does he hope and pray she still does. Even when he doesn’t deserve it.

He’s got half a tank of gas left and as soon as the bottle is empty he’ll make his way home.

Not the motel. 

Home. Their apartment.

And he’ll face whatever is waiting there for him. 

That’s the thing about losing everything — things can only get better from here on out.

[twilightarcade]

You're in the dungeons of Fear and Hunger. Your reasons for traversing the world to arrive at this decrepit place has lost you, at this point. The dungeons had a special, otherworldly cursed effect on you. Your hunger and mind dwindled much faster than it should have. Though, time was impossible to tell. Now your main objective here was to merely survive.

Early on, you spot a cage that held a little girl. Scarred arms, blue eyes, ginger hair, wearing a black dress. The way she seemed, she could be no older than 10. Why was a soul like hers imprisoned here, where the worst offending criminals were meant to rot? You unlock her cage, she nods a thanks. Meek and unspeaking.

Soon after you find a small dagger, one that is much unsuitable to your hands. But to the girl, it fit in her palm comfortably. She aids you as best as she can in the dungeons, though you try to make sure her safety is above yours.

The next gift for her was a small doll that you both found in a cell. What it was existing there for was an unknown that you didn't truly care about. You gave it to her, to hold on, to comfort her. She has a small smile.

--

Now you've dwelled deep. How deep did this dungeon go? Your equipment is starting to be a bit too weak for the stronger and more horrific enemies the deeper this hellhole goes.

A light, in a dark ravine you're traversing through. You see a tall figure. A man, with a wooden mask resembling a cat. His coat is purple, fancy, like he was a royal. His brown boots sleek, polished. A sane being able to have a proper conversation with?

His voice, refined, posh. He went on a few minutes, monologing how dark and depressing the world is. You decide to let him have his time talking, with how the dungeons were, he probably was lonely and needed to get some things off his mind. Soon, he sighs and gets to a topic that makes your eyes widen and your fists clench.

He asks for the little girl that you brought along in your journey.

In return, he would offer you a reward of a powerful sword, with only a few blows, could slay enemies easily. Your eyes dart to the long sword in your hand, getting duller. It seems the dungeon's darkness also effected the utility of items, too.

You probably couldn't stand a chance with the enemies soon to come with this sword. There's only so many times you can run away.

Do you trade away your travel companion, this girl you found just a few hours ago, for a better chance of survival?

(idk I was thinking that you're the questions guy I thought why not give you epic funger scenario)

ouhhh is this that cat guy i've heard so much about

honestly um? Desperate survival situation?? I can't say much on what desperate survival me would do maybe u should kidnap me (honestly I don't know what not desperate survival situation me is up to most of the time). BUT hypothetically yeah I am putting that kids safety above my own u got that right,, Absolutely adore children and also I think I would get lonely pretty quickly especially while im like. Sitting here fighting for my life. Lonely me easily translates to desperate me which easily equals not pretty good. (bro can't be left alone in the dungeon for a few hours 🤣🤣🤣🤣)

I would just sharpen my sword myself honestly man bet you didn't think about that huh [i am going 2 die horribly]. I mean based on recent trends it's just going 2 keep getting harder so like? I'll die eventually. Why give up some kid while I'm at it [<- HIS ASS IS GOING TO GET BOTH ITSELD AND THE KID KILLED] Also I don't trust that guy anyways. People with elaborate voices aren't trustworthy

no

[so-many-fandoms-here]

(English isn’t my first language so feel free to correct any mistake you notice)

• Characters: Hikari Kuina, fem!Reader

• Genre: fluff, angst

• Warnings: mentions of transphobia

My Girl

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ

Kuina absolutely adores you. She can’t imagine to live without you anymore and she will do anything she can to bring you two back into the real world. She knows that she loves you and that she wants to share everything with you. Thats why she feels so guilty for keeping one of the most important things about her to herself. She’s afraid how you will react, afraid that you’ll maybe leave her or get angry at her. But she doesn’t want to have any secrets in your relationship.

She thought about for quite a while but eventually she decides to be honest with you. Yes she is afraid you might leave her but on the other hand, would she want to be in a relationship where she has to hide herself to get loved?

It is a cloudy night. You two meet up on the rooftop like you often do but this time you notice immediately that something is different. The way Kuina sits there, stiff like she is afraid to move, makes you worry.

„What’s wrong baby?“, you ask reaching out for her hands. „I need to talk to you about something.“ She avoids your eyes.

„Is this the reason your so tense?“ She nods, still looking to the ground. „I am afraid you may leave me after I told you.“

Your stomach starts to tie itself into a knot, nausea crawling up your throat. „Did you cheat on me?“ Now Kuina looks into your eyes and shakes with a shocked expression rapidly her head. „No! Of course not!“ Immediately you relax again. „Well then you don’t have to worry.“

„It’s not that easy“, she says. „You will see me completely different. You will be angry, probably even disgusted, you-“ As you raise your hand she stops her rambling. „Don’t be ridiculous“, you try to reassure her, literally tasting her fear. „I love you and whatever you’re about to tell me; it won’t change a thing.“

Kuina feels how tears starts to well up in her eyes, ready to flood her face. „I‘m-“, her voice cracks and suddenly she sees her father again, how much he hated her for not being his son. For living her own life and becoming the person she always dreamt of. For simply being herself.

„I’m not an ordinary woman“, together with her sentences, her tears explode and she starts to sob uncontrollably. „Of course you’re not ordinary. Your a freaking goddess.“

You understand what she’s saying, but still you just want to see her smile again. „That’s not what I meant“, she said with a smile on her lips after all. „I know but you should.“

She can’t help but chuckle under her tears. You always manage to cheer her up at least a little bit. One of the countless things she loves about you.

„I was born a boy“, she eventually explains further. „Okay.“ That’s all you say before you start kissing the back of her hands you’re still holding.

Speechless Kuina looks at you. „Do you realize what I just told you?“ You nod, kissing every knuckle of her. „You’re trans“, you repeat the information.

Of course you were surprised but honestly, it doesn’t matter to you. You met Kuina as the wonderful woman she is and nothing could ever change the way you see her.

„And you don’t have any issues with that?“, she asks further. You look up and letting go of her hands to hold her face. „Why should I? I don’t care what genitals you used you have. I met you as a woman, I fell in love with a woman, you are a woman. You are my girl baby. End of the discussion.“

Kuina can’t believe what she is hearing. „I basically lied to you.“ You just roll your eyes. „You didn’t lie to me. You just didn’t tell me everything which is totally fine. People can be cruel, especially about topics like that.“ Your understanding overwhelms her so mich that she can’t stop herself from shedding tears again.

With gentle gestures you wipe away the drops that are about to run down her cheeks. „Please don’t cry sweetheart.“ But Kuina can’t stop. Her heart is about to explode from all the love and happiness she feels.

„I love you“, she whispers, her crying almost robbing her breath before she kisses you over and over again.

[farina-bancroft]

The Interview.

“So, Farina, do you have family back home in Nine watching right now? Do you think they’re proud of how you’ve done?”

Farina blinked at Calix, the audience, the cameras. She’d only just sat down, and they were beginning to pry into such personal topics. 

“Wow, buy a girl a drink first,” Farina blurted out. It didn’t diffuse any of the physical discomfort she felt– heels, a tight dress, a face full of makeup– but it did earn a ripple of chuckles from the audience, and some tension in her shoulders eased.

She pushed her hair carefully behind her ear, allowing herself a small, relieved smile. She could do this. Farina charmed people all the time, didn’t she?

“I’ve got a Momma and some siblings back home watchin’. Hiya, Momma,” she tacked on, waving toward the cameras. “Betcha the Bancroft kids are giving you a run for your money without me there keeping ‘em in line.”

It was meant to be funny. It sent a pang of homesickness through her chest anyway as the audience gave another appreciative laugh. 

“I’ll bet they’re proud, probably,” Farina continued. “A score of eight’s pretty respectable for a tribute from Nine, isn’t it?”

“Beyond respectable, I dare say shocking, sensational, astonishing!” Calix agreed brightly, head of teal hair bobbing with his enthusiastic nods. “Care to share how you managed that?”

“A lady never kisses and tells,” Farina smirked, leaning purposefully into the innuendo of that for a moment, casting a coy look toward the audience. “What I will share is that I shouldn’t be counted out. I know I’m little, I may not be able to, I don’t know, throw around other tributes like they’re sacks of grain, but I’m fiercer than I might look.”

“Might it have to do with your background at home?” Calix pressed, gesturing to the LED screen behind them. Usually it was all decorative, but now it lit up in bright pixels unmistakably forming the image of Bancroft Apothecary. It had only been a few days, yet Farina found herself struck by how clear the image was, as though she hadn’t seen it in years and her memories had gone blurry. 

A tight lump formed in her throat. She wouldn’t cry. She promised herself she wouldn’t cry, it would undo everything the Eight was doing for her, plus she wasn’t sure if she could live with herself if she broke down in the interview, of all things.

It also asked more disturbing questions. Was this picture from before or after she was Reaped? Had her family been visited by Capitol reporters? Authorities? Had they threatened them? Or what if they didn’t know, what if this was taken without their knowledge, and this was a signal they were being watched? What if it was from before– what if they were already being watched this closely? For what?

“It– might,” she managed noncommittally, fingers twisting into the tulle of her skirt. She worked to not appear affected or unsettled, despite the way her thoughts raced in the back of her mind, threatening to pull her out of the moment and destabilize her focus. “I know a couple’a things about medicine from our work at home. It’s the family business, you can’t not pick up some things.” She wasn’t going to give away just how deep her knowledge went. It wasn’t something she was willing to advertise to the other tributes.

Calix didn’t look particularly satisfied with that answer. Farina left the sentiment there and stared right back. He seemed to debate coaxing more out of her momentarily, but either her expression showed enough finality or his showmanship took over.

“Of course, of course. Most tributes have something unique they bring to the table from their backgrounds back home, that’s what makes the Games so interesting, am I right, folks?”

Calix beamed. The audience cheered. Farina maintained a thin, polite smile.

“It seems Oxford brings something unique as well, with his Eight. Do you foresee an alliance between you two?” Calix asked then, leaning forward. “Do I foresee… anything else?”

Farina hadn’t been anticipating that. Her expression must have twisted into something between shock and horror, she could almost feel the zoom from the cameras tightening in on her. 

“Oh– oh, wow, no, just allies. Friends,” she corrected quickly, shaking her head. “I don’t know about you Calix, but I don’t make it a habit to hook up with people I might stab later. I like to keep business and pleasure separate like that.”

“Maybe I don’t,” he challenged playfully.

Farina’s eyebrows raised. “You might like some of my friends back home.”

Calix threw his head back and laughed. “I’m sure I would.” He glanced at the clock off the side of the stage and sighed. “Well, Miss Bancroft, I am afraid that our time is running short, but it has been such a pleasure getting to know you. Any final thoughts you’d like to leave us with tonight?”

Farina had prepared for this question. She nodded, looking out to the audience, the cameras. “Yeah. Don’t overlook Nine. Ox and I, we’re something special. You won’t wanna miss it.”

[bi-demon-ium]

17 for Number Two!

"You don't have to be alone anymore." + Number Two

post s2. this just sort of happened. i. i dont know

(ao3.)

“You know how they spoke to you isn’t okay, right?” Rhonda says, and it’s so abrupt Number Two jumps.

“What?” she says, too sharply, too high. “Who? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Rhonda takes a few more steps forward, almost casual if not for the calculating, concerned gleam in her eye. She puts down what she was holding, and leans forward, hands on the desk.

“Your family,” she says. “The biological one, that is.”

Number Two’s shoulders bunch up and tense, and she shuffles a little. “Well,” she says, chin going up almost defiantly. “They’re annoying. But it’s not like they’re—that bad. Just… infuriating.”

Rhonda tilts her head sympathetically. “Number Two,” she says, softly, the way she talks to the kids, and it makes Number Two feel kind of like she wants to hit something—not Rhonda, mind you, but perhaps a nice punching bag. “I’m not saying they’re bad people. I’m not even saying that your relationship with them is irredeemable or wrong. Only that they treated you badly. Your mother, in particular.”

“Rowena is a complicated woman,” Number Two says stiffly.

“The fact that you call her that is already indicative of a possible problem, eh?” Rhonda asks, not unkindly.

Number Two’s lips purse.

“You didn’t abandon them, is all I’m saying,” Rhonda says.

“I know that,” Number Two snaps.

“I know,” Rhonda says, a little quiet, “And I’m telling you you’re right. You’re not wrong for thinking that, or biased. You did nothing wrong. In fact…” she hesitates, like she’s unsure she should continue, and Number Two snaps just say it, and she says, “…I would say they abandoned you.”

Number Two swallows, blinking a little rapidly. She almost looks as if she’s been struck.

She doesn’t say anything, and Rhonda sighs softly, moving around the table to stand by her, putting hands on her shoulders.

“It doesn’t mean you can’t try with them,” she says. “God knows we’ve learned enough recently about, ah, complicated family reunions.”

Number Two snorts at that, and Rhonda smiles a little when the joke lands, and moves away with one last little squeeze of her shoulders. Number Two looks marginally more relaxed.

“…but we all meant what we said,” she continues. “We’re proud of you. We love you. And we won’t abandon you. Alright?”

Number Two nods a little shakily, clearing her throat. “Understood,” she says, a little overly formal. Rhonda only smiles, shaking her head a little.

“So don’t push us away, alright? They’re not going to change our minds about you. And I promise you,” she wiggles her eyebrows a little and leans in conspiratorially, “I am far more interested in spending time with you than with Charity or One.”

“Or Madame Chops,” Number Two adds despite herself, a little grumpily reluctant.

“Or Madame Chops,” Rhonda agrees.

“…I know that,” Number Two says. “Logically. It’s just…”

“Hard?” Rhonda offers.

Number Two nods, avoiding her gaze. “Hard,” she agrees. “When we’re around them. Now that I’m hearing from them again, sometimes. I think they’re trying, but they keep…”

“Well,” Rhonda says, “I’ll remind you whenever you need. And with your family… we’ve got your back, okay? We’re your family, too.”

“Better than family, really,” Number Two mutters, sounding suspiciously wet.

Rhonda pats her shoulder again. “You don’t have to be alone anymore, Number Two,” she says. “You’ve got us.”

Number Two’s lips tremble a little, but she doesn’t respond to this. After a moment, she says, voice still a little shaky, “I’m going to have to have this talk at least two more times, aren’t I?”

It doesn’t surprise her Rhonda was the first to say something. They had grown much closer since the events of the cabin and the island. But it also wouldn’t surprise her when Mr. Benedict would awkwardly broach the topic later, and even Milligan would most likely say something.

They really did care, didn’t they? It wasn’t that she didn’t know that, but sometimes it felt easy to forget. Especially now. She felt… unlike herself. More fragile than she should.

“Well,” Rhonda says, like she’s hiding a laugh, “If it helps, Milligan will probably be pretty short about it.”

Number Two sighs, but she doesn’t sound truly upset.

“We just care,” Rhonda says, and Number Two smiles a little.

“I know,” she says. “I know.”

[hiddenlife-manager]

The Angels Laugh

Shanks x GN Reader

Please support me! (PS) If you do end up sending money. If it doesn't work tell me because no one has donated yet so I can't tell if it works. Buy me a Coffee

Synopsis: A simple Bar worker gets focused on sound it seems so small to her including her life till she hears the sound of pure freedom.

Y'all this so cute. Not proof read by yeah. It has let names like doll and princess but i will say most likely gn. I AM SO SORRY I ACCIDENTALLY PUT SMUT IN A TAG, IT WAS NEVER SMUT. I'M SO SO SORRY!

~ Day 1639

The sound of a tune playing could be heard from the moment you step foot into the bar. Sounds, that was all you could hear, the sound of people talking calmly between each other, the sound of the chefs cooking in the back preparing food, and the sound of pure laughter. Life was nothing but sounds to help navigate the world.

"Ah! The bartender they are finally here!" One of the patrons commented his hands went straight to his glass filled of fresh orange juice. In a messy gulp he simply finished the drink in under 15 seconds. All eyes turned to you once he placed his glass harshly on the table.

"Jack I recommend not drinking like the doctor told you." Your voice was nothing but smooth and calming.

"The doctor knows nothin'." He harshly let a out and all you could do was shrug. You took the steps to reach the bar counter and hopped over it. Your bag shook with the motion some things rattling in the flimsy old bag.

"I don't know Jack? Maybe they do they did study quite a bit to be able to practice medicine." Your hands going your bag over your shoulders and placed it on the coat rack. It was nothing but not on this island so the coat rack was never used for a coat. Once your body was free from restrictions you rapidly head over to the bar counter, men gathering for a morning drink. "You know my rules one drink in the morning nothing else!" The sound of men yelling out their orders one by one they got their one morning drink. That was how you spent your morning coming into work a bit late then severing alcohol like always. The bed and dinner was all you knew and you continued to work day and night. Sounds changing with every tick of the clock.

~ Day 1640

You opened the door the same people once again eating food chattering between one another and laughter. That was all you heard. Jack's voice being the loudest.

"Ah! The bartender finally here. Be a doll and serve me a pint of beer." Jack called out slamming his orange juice glass down onto the table. You nodded and headed off taking the steps needed to reach the bar and hopping over like every morning. All the laughter and the voices of everyone you could tell who is who by their laugh even tourist rare but you could remember how they sound.

You picked the glass for the pint and placed it under the jug gently, the people continued with their daily activities at the bed and dinner. Talking to each other about topics of the city.

"I think there needs to be a bar just to serve alcohol!" Chris mumbles, his finger hooks to the handle picking his coffee up taking a sip from the steaming drink.

"NOT AT ALL!" Michael yelled across the dining area. His voice was smooth naturally but when raising his voice cracked. Everyone in this dinner typically were regulars so remember their names and typical orders were easy. They used sound to communicate and that meant you would remember.

"Michael is right. Sean Bed and dinner is all we need. We have the best bartender at night and day. I wouldn't change this for the world or for the money." Jack responded, you simply placed the drink right in front of him. You placed a hand on his head and messed up his hair.

"Boys, would you all get pancakes or breakfast at a bar? The answer is no. But anyway tonight is poker night so get ready to all be defeated by me." Everyone burst out laughing and all you did was let a simple smile. The sound of cheering for poker night the favorite of night activities. Some come home with money others don't simplicity to it's finest.

~ Day 1641

Something was strange, you stood in front of the dinner doors trying to recognize the difference there wasn't something obvious that many would catch within seconds you knew what was off. Including yourself or took the wall there to realize what was so different. The sound.

Everyone was much louder you could hear it farther away than usual which made the approach to the building slower. You push the doors open to hear it. The Laugh you couldn't recognize. Laughter that felt like music to your ears. Unlike Chris, Jack's, Michael's, and the others this one was different it wasn't the by product of the environment but it was the sound of pure happiness from life. Your head flung to the one who let out the enticing laugh a red haired man. Three scars on his face and smile sculpted by the Gods.

"There they are again. Our bartender." Jack once again welcomes your arrival and the man turns to stare at you causing your face to get hot. You couldn't help but look away. A chuckle leaving your mouth not normal of your actions.

"In honor of our new guest may we have more than one drink for today." You walked over to the counter and hopped over. A motion you mastered from years of working here at the Bed and dinner.

"I perhaps will give you um… Three drinks for the morning that is all. Remember you all have work and I can not be in charge of any problems." You sheepishly responded looking away from the crowd of people. The sound of cheers could be heard but all that you focused on was the man's laughter.

~ Day 1642

Your legs ran as fast as you could to the very dinner. You were breathing harshly and the gravel on your feet made the sound muffled. You came in late every day of the year yet today you ran to get there. Late but not like yesterday. 15 minutes late. Your body pushed the door open and once again his laughter was all you heard. It wasn't the loudest but it was the only one you truly cared for.

"The bartender ready to serve our drinks for the morning ?" You nod and did your routine of the day. Serving the drinks whilst you listened to the man tell jokes and story his voice being the only thing you focused on. You struggled with orders not remembering exactly what they said, the years of remember everyone's voice disappeared all you wanted was one man's voice to be remembered his laughter called for you and his stories entertained you.

~ Day 1643 and 1644

You caught yourself coming to work earlier and earlier each day almost 5 minutes removed from your lateness. You craved one thing in the world it was the man's voice and laughter. He sounded free from life's chains and it drew you to him. Day 1643 10 minutes late and day 1644 5 minutes late. Jack mentioned it and all you did was saying that the earlier you awoke the earlier drinks can be served and the one per morning can go to two per morning.

"That was when the kid…" The man spoke and you listened to all he said and we talked to you for a drink you had no ways of handling it. You stammered trying to make yourself say something normal and it always ended with you giving up and walking away.

~Day 1645

There you stood at the bar right behind the counter awaiting the first customer. Not late and ready to work. Your motivation being one man's voice.

~ Day 1646 (Night)

He sat there at the bar no one else as you finished up cleaning. Your face hot as ever trying to act as if his presence wasn't the most exciting thing. You wanted to be near him for long periods of time and it worked. The only thing is that you couldn't speak to him. His voice was nothing but mesmerizing and yours was tired of life it didn't fit with him making it seem as if useless to speak to such a person.

"Princess, do me a favor and drink with me." He chuckled right after he finished. You couldn't say no you couldn't say anything. You place a wine bottle down that being the only drink you can tolerate. You hopped over and sat two stools away from him. "Wine? Something so weak won't do anything. That being said I do prefer the strong stuff." You sat there silently unable to muster up the courage to say something. The man got up and sat right beside you. He leaned in towards you pushing some hair out of his way.

"Princess, if you like me so much just tell me." Your body tensed up and he moved back chuckling. He laughed quite a bit and took a sip from his booze. He leaned into your ear once more closer than ever his breath warm and smelled like alcohol whispered into your ear having you shiver. "I like you, join my crew. It seems you need a bit of freedom and I need a bartender like yourself." He noticed how you haven't loosened up and with his hand he gently laid it on you and brought you into a soft kiss.

~ Day 1647

The sound of the ocean could be heard as you stared out to the docks to see all the men and women you served in the years of working at the Bed and Dinner. Here you were leaving your life behind because of an Angel like laugh that grabbed your attention. You could hear his laughter once more a sound you could never grow to be tired of. He stood there right behind you his one hand snakes around your body.

"I like this island quite a bit I was able to get a bartender and some eye candy." He chuckled and for once you laughed right beside him.

"We should go back when we are around then."

"Princess, you are a hundred percent correct we should." You raised your hand and waved to the life you lived you lived the life but you love his voice more. No matter what Shanks will always have that.

[kiss-inthekitchen]

all that you ask of me | loki laufeyson

summary: you and Loki have a discussion about your kinks, and you learn something about him that you weren’t expecting

wc: 1.5k

warnings: smutty themes!! talk of bdsm, both reader and loki are switches and they aren't chill about it, teasing, light degradation but in a cute way, sub!loki, dom!loki, f!reader. loki has huge bisexual switch energy and i had to put it in a fic

a/n: title is kind of unrelated lol it makes more sense in the next chapter. pls let me know if you like it, i love when u guys leave comments or tags !

It’s been a few weeks since you and Loki had started dating and your sexual chemistry has been insane, which was a surprise to neither of you. You’d started out as friends, and even then, any time Loki had so much as brushed his fingers along your skin you felt something akin to electricity spike through your body. And though he was loath to admit it at first, Loki felt the same. So, once you finally gave in to your mutual feelings for each other, things only got more exciting.

Though the two of you had been having sex for weeks, you hadn’t really done anything too spicy yet, still getting used to this new aspect of your relationship. Now, though, you’d decided it would be a good idea to get it all out there, rather than try to figure it out as you went along. Besides, something about the idea of talking things out with Loki like it was nothing more than a casual conversation was thrilling to you.

You and Loki were sitting on the couch, your legs resting in his lap as he absentmindedly soothed circles into one of your calves. You smiled fondly at the way he always had to be touching some part of you. The two of you had covered a few topics already, going over safewords (you were partial to the traffic light system, and Loki agreed) and some of your hard limits, and now you were on to the fun part. Specifically, a rather exciting interest your partner had just confessed to.

“You know,” you mused, unable to keep the teasing smile off your face, “I wouldn’t have expected you to be into submission, what with your whole...thing.”

“My whole thing?” He repeated, raising his eyebrows at your choice of words. You suppressed a laugh. He probably would’ve spent more time on his faux outrage if the look on your face wasn’t so damn cute. “Yes, well. I am full of surprises, aren’t I?”

You hummed in response. “I mean, I had hoped you’d be into it. Or, I guess, fantasized, would be the better w-”

“Did you?” He cut you off, sounding all too pleased.

“Oh, for a while now,” you smirked.

“You’ve been holding out on me,” he said, the admiration in his eyes shifting to smugness as he continued, “I wouldn’t expect you to be a dom, what with your whole thing.”

You made a show of rolling your eyes at him. He wasn’t wrong, though. Compared to Loki, you were much more bubbly and warm, not that he was really so cold anymore, but he was still… him. On top of that, your style tended to lean more toward pastel colors, though lately you were known to also rock some dark green tones. You supposed that from the outside, people would assume you to be the more submissive one in the relationship. Which you definitely could be, but your tastes went both ways.

“Okay, I deserved that,” you relented. “Now come on, tell me what I want to know.”

“Okay, well. I’ve no problem with bondage, as I’m sure you know.”

“You do seem to end up in chains quite often, my love. But... not sexually?” You’d meant for it to be a statement, but then you realized you actually had no idea, your voice lilting up into a question.

He fixed you with a look that very clearly told you you’d been wrong.

Well, okay then. “Right,” you responded, a little breathier than before, trying not to let your imagination run wild just yet. Loki squeezed your ankle playfully, bringing you back before you could lose focus. “So, is there anything you’re not okay with, bondage-wise? Like, collars, ties, cuffs…?” You trailed off.

He thought for a moment. “No, it’s all fine with me. What about you?”

“Cuffs kinda freak me out, actually. I don’t have superhuman strength and all.”

“Noted. Oh, one thing I do want to mention- I’m going to have to ask that you refer to me exclusively as ‘Your Majesty’ when I’m in charge,” he said, expression unwavering.

Your mouth dropped open for a second before you asked, “Wait, seriously?”

He broke into a mischievous grin. “No. But if you’d really like to, I suppose I wouldn’t stop you,” he said the last bit thoughtfully, and you playfully hit his arm with the back of your hand in admonishment. “Ooh, harder,” he said, still with an air of mischief, though you got the sense he wasn’t entirely kidding.

“Loki!” you gasped.

“Alright,” he laughed lightly. “Great God of Mischief will work just as well.”

“I am not calling you that.”

“You’re being so difficult.”

“Will you just tell me what you like to be called already? If you carry on like this, I swear, I will call you Captain.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” he said, glaring at you, and you raised an eyebrow as if to ask, care to test that theory? “Okay, I yield. But, honestly, it depends on the scene. If you’re comfortable with it, I’ll have you call me ‘sir’ most of the time, ‘daddy’ on special occasions. You’re a smart girl. I trust that you’ll know when those occasions come about.”

You just nodded, your mouth suddenly feeling dry. Why were you having such a reaction to Loki calling you a smart girl? He’d definitely noticed.

“What would you like to be called? When you’re the dominant?” Loki asked, saving you from your thought spiral.

“Oh, um. Ma’am is fine. None of the other terms really work for me, I don’t know why, they just seem kind of… too much, I guess,” you over-explained, feeling your cheeks start to heat up.

“Ma’am is just fine?” Loki pressed.

“No, it’s- it’s good. I, um, really like it.” Your cheeks flamed even hotter now, your gaze trained on the couch cushion.

Loki reached out and lifted your chin gently with his thumb and forefinger, making you look at him. “Come now, you were doing so well. Don’t get shy on me now,” he said, voice taking on that deep timbre that made you feel like all the air had been sucked out of the room.

“Okay,” you breathed, your mind gone completely blank as you looked at him.

“Good girl,” he said softly. He didn’t miss the way your body reacted to the praise, a smug smirk plastered on his face.

Bastard. You narrowed your eyes at him, shaking your head slightly to clear it. “That’s not fair,” you countered weakly.

“Isn’t it? I’m just trying to figure out what you like,” he feigned innocence.

“Right,” you said, only a little petulantly, trying to think of what else you wanted to ask him before he’d distracted you. “How do you feel about degradation?” You blurted out. “Receiving, I mean.”

That caught him off guard, to your great enjoyment. “I- I’m not sure. No one’s ever tried it.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “You’ve been tied up but no one’s ever called you names?”

“No,” he responded, frowning slightly. You could practically see the gears turning in his head. “I think I might be okay with it.”

“My honey, you’ve been so deprived,” you said with a pout. It was your turn to have a little fun now. “So,” you started, trailing your fingertips up his forearm, drawing his attention to your touch before you continued. “If, for example, I had you on your knees, and you were being so good for me, and I just happened to call you my obedient little slut-” he inhaled sharply, and you couldn’t help but grin, “-you would, theoretically, be okay with that?” You looked up into his eyes, seeing the flash of desire that had settled there.

“I think that would be acceptable,” he spoke, clearly putting in effort to keep his voice even.

You smiled, pleased with yourself. It was cute that he still tried to seem unaffected when you could literally feel the way his cock had stiffened against you. You shifted the position of your leg in his lap, lightly brushing against him, and he gasped.

“Pathetic,” you chide.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. As much as he may try to seem unimpressed with your teasing, he was certainly susceptible to it. “If you want us to get through the rest of the conversation, you’re going to have to stop that,” he says, but it comes out more like a plea than an order, and he’s sure that you’re going to be the death of him.

You chuckle, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. “Oh, this is gonna be so much fun.”

“It seems I’ve underestimated you, dearest,” he says, tone laced through with affection.

You bring a hand up to cup his cheek, drawing him closer to press a sweet kiss to his lips.

“Well, that’s a mistake we won’t make twice. Isn’t it, love?”

[anaveragebibliophile]

He Comes First

Thranduil x Wife!reader x Young!Legolas 

Summary: After finding out some exciting news about your and Thranduil’s future as parents, you begin reminiscing on the all the joys and wonders that this life has given you (especially getting to see your husband excel at fatherhood). 

PART 1 

PART 2: 

https://anaveragebibliophile.tumblr.com/post/659269636241637376/cyclical-love

“Are you one-hundred percent certain, Morwen? I know you are an expert at discerning such things, but I cannot help but still feel the uncertainty reverberating through me,” you said, hands gripping your kneecaps as you awaited the healer’s response. 

“Yes, my queen. All of the signs are there: the nausea, the subsequent morning sickness, the exhaustion. I am positive that I am correct in my diagnosis.” 

“Oh, by the Valar (God),” you responded, your right hand drifting to hold your stomach protectively. “I am with child. Thranduil and I will be welcoming another elfing next fall.” 

“Yes, Queen (y/n). When the leaves begin to fall, you will be holding another blessing in your arms.” 

Walking back to your and Thran’s chambers provided ample time for rumination on this news (because the healer’s quarters were on the other side of the palace). Now, that’s not to say this contemplation was meant to curb any sentiments of regret, resentment, or anger. Not at all. In reality, you couldn’t stop a huge smile from framing your face. You couldn’t help but embrace the elation that was filling every facet of your heart, soul, and mind. Oh, this was a dream come true. 

Obviously, the topic of having another child had been discussed between you and your husband many times (usually on fireside date night with goblets of wine and lots of cuddling). And the funny thing was that the prospect had cemented itself more securely over the last few months. Having and caring for another child no longer appeared to be this unattainable desire, but, instead, it filled you and Thran with this rapture, this thrill. And why wouldn’t it really? Legolas was everything you both could have hoped for, so why not try for that relentless feeling of contentment one more time? You’d have to be asinine not to. 

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

“Ada, Ada are you awake?” Legolas’ melodic voice asked, breaking through the tranquil haze you’d encompassed yourself in. 

“There is no need to fret, my little leaf. Ada is just resting his eyes. He is tired,” your husband’s deep baritone responded. 

“Of course, Ada, but that is not why I was asking. Would it be alright if I laid on your chest?” 

“You already know the answer to that, Legolas. Climb on up, iôn nîn (my son).” 

And climb on up he did, at least from what you saw through the little crack in the door. Once your little elfling’s voice alerted you to the fact that your two favorite people in all of Middle Earth were in your chambers, your immediate instinct was to rush and join in on the cuddle session that was so obviously taking place. Yet, somehow, right as you put your hand on the doorknob, it was as if your feet were tethered to the floor. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t speak. All because you turned your head. All because of what you were bearing witness to. 

Legolas was sprawled starfish-like on his father’s chest, his little face turned into the right side of Thranduil’s neck. You could see the red, depressed sleep lines marring his face from his morning nap (where he and the pillow became great comrades). And even though that was such an adorable sight, what you saw your husband doing made joy spread through your entire heart in such a way that you thought it might implode on you. 

Sometimes your little leaf struggled to fall asleep at night. Whether it be because of a nightmare or a fear of separation from his parents no one could truly say. His insomnia was variable at best and inevitable at worst. However, regardless of the circumstances, your and Thran’s mission was to get your son some relief, no matter the cost. And you tried everything you could think of: lullabies, rocking, warm milk, literally anything that the rule book on parenting tells you to attempt, but nothing would make any impact. That is, until your husband changed the game. 

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One night in mid-winter, Legolas’ inability to sleep had reached its peak. He hadn’t been feeling well for most of the day--spending most of it snuggled with you in the sitting room or with Thranduil in his office--and by the end of the night had been sporting a pretty nasty fever. He was miserable, plain and simple. You had hoped that the illness would’ve given him the opportunity to give in to his fatigue, to barricade himself in a dream-like state. Wrong. Instead, the infection chose to create a pain in his ear that wouldn’t abate by any means. No question, it made him absolutely hysterical. 

Despite this, though, he was most at peace with your husband, the man who spent most of that day with his lips pressed in a thin, white line and his stomach in knots. All he hoped for was his son to be improving, but it didn’t seem like Valar (God) was in the mood to grant that wish. So, he did what he was best at: finding a way to take control of the situation. In this case, the problem was Legolas’ discomfort. The little guy was trying to sleep--on his side, his back, in Thran’s arms, in whatever position his brain could conjure up--but would then proceed to hold his left ear and whimper. Anything he did would cause pain to shoot through him.  

“Alright, little leaf,” Thranduil said while rocking his son in his arms for the tenth time that day, “how about we try having you rest on my chest. You might sleep better that way.” And all he got was an almost imperceptible nod from the elfling that was clenching his hand so tight. 

Moving over to the bed, he slowly settled himself in the center, making sure not to jostle his son too much. Quietly humming to Legolas, he carefully moved his right hand up and down his spinal column and left lingering kisses on his forehead. 

“There we go, iôn nîn (my son),” he said. “Hopefully this helps. Gi melin (I love you).”

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“Darling, you can come in, you know. This is your space too,” your husband’s voice articulated, a hint of mockery and teasing in his tone (all in good fun). 

Opening the door all the way, you smiled at the treasures that laid before you. One curled into his father’s chest like an armadillo. The other grinning like a fool at said armadillo. 

“My apologies, sweetheart. Once I got here, I couldn’t refrain from letting you have that special one-on-one time with him.” 

Your husband’s right cheekbone lifted up to create an off-centered smile of sorts. “How was your appointment with Morwen? Was she able to give you some herbs to aid your sickness?”

“Yes, she was. But that is not the only thing she mentioned to me. About why I am ill anyway.” 

“What else is wrong? Whatever it is, it is treatable, yes?” Thranduil queried, his voice getting higher by at least three octaves. 

“Yes, honey. It is treatable. I’ll only have to wait about six more months.”

At that, your husband paused, concentration taking over his features. You felt his brain’s agony at the mere thought of analyzing the riddle and attempting to figure it out. Every mechanism was moving to decipher the answer. 

And then it all clicked. 

“If what you say is true, then that means we are….” 

TBC