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roosterforme · 9 months

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The Younger Kind Part 23 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: As the trial date creeps closer, Bradley is having a harder time keeping himself from panicking. After you learn some interesting things about Bradley from an unlikely source, you do a little bit of digging.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, smut, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 3800 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

You slept in until ten. You were sore. The good kind. The kind where you couldn't stop smiling. As you sat up in Bradley's bed and stretched, your eyes caught on your purple crown. There was a piece of paper hanging from it now. You reached for it and read the note he had left for you.

Princess,

I left my computer and the charger in the kitchen. I also plugged your phone in before I left. There are Skittles in the kitchen cabinet. Please text me when you get up. Noah asked if you're staying for dinner. Please stay for dinner.

I love you.

My computer password is password1234

You snorted and rolled your eyes. "Of course it is," you muttered, climbing out of bed and searching for something to wear. You made yourself some coffee with the vanilla creamer, and you spent the day filling out four job applications, eating Skittles, and attending a zoom lecture. You had done basically nothing strenuous, but by the time Bradley and Noah got back, you were yawning as you ran to see them.

"Hello, boys," you said, kneeling to hug Noah.

"Let's color dinosaurs," he told you, and you laughed as he led you to the table.

"Don't I get a kiss or anything?" Bradley asked, unbuttoning his uniform shirt.

You looked at him and said, "You keep that on and I'll kiss you somewhere special later."

His hand paused on the buttons before doing them back up again. "Does that mean... you'd like me to have the uniform on later? Like after bedtime?"

You licked your lips and looked up at him, going for the most innocent look you could manage. "Please?"

Bradley grunted and kissed you a little rough. You tasted his tongue before pulling away from him. "I have dinosaurs to color," you informed him, dropping down onto the seat next to Noah. "And dinner is in the oven. I hope you like lasagna."

"You already know I'll eat anything you make," Bradley said, kissing you on the top of your head.

Noah tried to pronounce lasagna until you were barely holding in your laughter. "What's that?" he asked, handing you a pink crayon.

"It's kind of like spaghetti," you promised, coloring in a tyrannosaurus rex. "I already know you like spaghetti, so I'm just trying to expand your palate."

"Okay," he said with a shrug. "Can I have ants on logs?"

You knew he was going to ask, so you had already made them. When you took the container out of the refrigerator, Noah and Bradley had them polished off in a matter of minutes. "Your weekly grocery bill is probably more than mine is for the month."

"I don't doubt it, Princess," Bradley said, biting into the last carrot stick, still in that sinfully hot uniform. "Let's eat dinner, and then I'll clean up while you and Noah play."

"And then you'll take me home?" you asked cautiously looking up at him where he stood.

"Do you want me to?"

You didn't answer him. You just turned back toward the coloring book while he pulled dinner out of the oven. Did you want to leave? And go back to your tiny, lonely rental? No. You were still wearing Bradley's clothes, and you kind of wanted some more of your own stuff, but you didn't want to leave. Not really. You said nothing, and he didn't ask again.

He did everything else to get dinner on the table. He plated the food, got drinks, and set the table. Then after everyone including Noah enjoyed the meal, he cleaned up. "You don't want help?" you asked, scooping Noah up in your arms. "Then we're going to watch some Mickey Mouse while we play with blocks."

"Sounds good," he said, putting some foil on the leftover. "Love you," he added casually as you took Noah into the other room. No, you did not want to leave.

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

Bradley was still wearing his uniform. He'd tried to change out of the shirt twice now, but both times you had stopped him. Noah was looking a little sleepy, and Bradley didn't know what you wanted to do. He wanted you to stay over again. He wanted you to stay over until he got through the court appearance on Wednesday and hopefully returned home with Noah, free and clear of Meredith. But honestly, he wanted you with him longer than that.

"Princess?" he asked softly, and you stood up from the pile of blocks that Noah was working on.

"Yes, Daddy?" you asked, standing right in front of him and smirking. If he was alone with you right now, that smirk would be gone in an instant.

"I need an answer, Baby. You want me to drive you home before I put Noah in bed for the night?"

Your hands found his waist as you gazed up at him. "I want to stay here, but I don't want to distract you leading up to Wednesday."

"Stay," he sighed. "Stay. We can swing by your place and pick up some of your things and then come right back here, okay? Stay."

So that's exactly what the three of you did. Bradley stayed in the Bronco with Noah while you ran inside your place for a couple minutes, and you came out with your usual tote bag plus a backpack.

"You don't mind if I keep using your computer, right?" you asked before you climbed back in the front seat.

"You can use anything at my place."

The smile you gave him in response had him thinking about asking you things he had no business asking you yet. He closed his eyes briefly before putting the Bronco in reverse and heading back to his house. When you reached for his hand in the dying light, he held yours. And when you asked to turn on the playlist you made for Noah, he fell even more in love with you.

Noah was half asleep by the time Bradley carried him inside, and when he reemerged from his son's room, you had changed into your own clothes. Bradley kind of missed his oversized shirts on you.

"I have a fun idea, Daddy," you said, and he was practically salivating in response. "I'm going to teach you how to cook."

His brow furrowed and he gave you a look. "That doesn't sound fun at all."

Your laughter in response had him agreeing with you anyway, and you were immediately coaxing him into the kitchen. "We can use up all of your food, and tomorrow I can go grocery shopping for you if you want. I could drop you and Noah off in the morning and then use your car."

"Baby, it's not a car.... it's a Bronco. And you can use it if you promise to be very, very careful with her. You can't park next to the cart return. Actually, you can't really park by anything. No trees, no shrubs, no other cars. Nothing."

You were trying not to laugh, he could tell. "Sure, Daddy. No problem. Now let's start cooking."

He kissed you softly. "You gonna let me change out of my uniform yet?"

"Don't ask me stupid questions. Of course not. You look hot. Now go ahead and grab all of the ingredients for this recipe," you told him, handing him your phone. He sighed and skimmed a recipe for chicken stir fry.

"Princess, there's no way I'm going to be able to make this," he murmured.

"That's an order, Lieutenant Bradshaw!" you snapped, and Bradley was instantly looking at you. "Or I'll make you do fifty push ups!"

"That's nothing, Baby. I'll do a hundred for you," he said with a smirk, but what he got in response was a slap on his ass.

"Get to work," you told him, hopping up on the counter with a bag of Skittles and a no-nonsense look on your face.

"Oh, shit," he mumbled, reading through the recipe again.

"And that dinner better be edible, or I'm not going to suck your cock, Lieutenant."

"Yes, ma'am." He read the recipe a third time before he got the chicken out of the refrigerator. Bradley was starting to get a little nervous about Meredith, but you were certainly helping him keep his mind off of that. He got a cutting board and a knife ready along with some vegetables.

"Don't forget the salt," you whispered, holding out a green Skittle and popping it in his mouth.

"Thank you," he whispered back. And you kept offering him little hints here and there. You told him he was cutting the vegetables too small, and then you fed him a purple Skittle. You told him the oil needed to be hotter, and then you fed him a yellow one. You reminded him to keep moving the food around in the pan, and then you let him take a red Skittle from between your lips with his mouth.

"You're better at cooking than you think," you told him. "Noah won't have to keep eating boxed foods."

"That's really your goal here, isn't it?" he asked you, pushing his sweaty hair back from his forehead with his forearm.

"Of course. I'm not worried about you. I'm worried about him," you replied with a playful eye roll. "What's he supposed to eat when I'm not around?"

"Why would you not be around?" he asked cautiously. Then his mind started swarming with thoughts of Noah living with Meredith.

He watched you chew on a Skittle before you softly said, "I'll be around." Your eyes dipped down his chest to his pins and buttons. You looked so young and sweet, and you reached for the knob to turn the burner off. "Don't want it to burn."

Bradley nodded and got a plate down. He carefully scooped some of the hot food onto the plate and handed it to you for inspection. "Give me a fork, Lieutenant," you commanded, and Bradley grabbed one from the drawer while you blew on the food. "I just ordered you a rice cooker and an apron from Amazon. The rice cooker will make your life easier, and you'll look cute in an apron that says Hot Daddy."

Bradley laughed as you raised the fork to your lips. "Thank you, but baby, I don't want you spending your money on me. You haven't even graduated yet."

"Just pretend like you never paid me to watch Noah, okay? I don't like that you ever did."

"Okay," he whispered, placing one hand on either side of you where you sat on the kitchen counter. He watched you take a bite of the chicken, and you moaned softly. Then you tried some of the vegetables before you fed him a bite.

"It's so good. And I barely helped you at all."

Bradley was actually impressed that he'd made something that tasted that nice. "So I have no excuse now but to make Noah a homemade dinner? Is that what you're saying?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying," you said, smiling at him as he set the plate aside. "You know how to cook, Lieutenant. I'm so proud of you."

He leaned in and rubbed his nose against yours before kissing you. "Do you still want me to do push ups for you?"

"Kind of," you replied, kissing his mustache. "Just because it would be sexy."

Bradley did fifty push ups while you stood in front of him and counted them off, and he looked up at your legs and your denim shorts the whole time.

"Damn, Daddy," you groaned as he hopped up when he was done like it was nothing. "My boyfriend is so strong!" He didn't even have time to respond before you were unzipping his pants and slipping your hand inside.

When you knelt in front of him, he said, "You weren't kidding about sucking my cock, huh?"

"Not at all," you whispered looking up at him. Your lips were glossy again. Whatever you grabbed from your house, it must have included your lip stuff. God, he loved the way you looked. He loved the way you felt. He loved your tongue, licking the bead of his precum away as you stroked him with your hands.

"You're really fucking good at this," he moaned as you wrapped your lips around him and sucked gently. He stroked your cheek as you took him a little deeper, swirling your tongue as he throbbed. "Goddamn it." The slow, deliberate drag of your lips along his length was enough to make him buck gently.

You moaned around him before pulling him free, and then Bradley was treated to you sucking on his balls until he was panting. "Baby," he whined, his cock resting on your face. You weren't going to let him go any faster. He couldn't decide if fast or slow was what he wanted, so he left you in charge.

And he was not disappointed when you licked him from balls to tip and said, "I want you to cum on my face."

He ran his knuckles along your cheek and chin. "You're so gorgeous, Princess. I'd love to paint you up and make you even prettier."

"Daddy," you whined before taking him so deep he saw stars. You bobbed along his length, gagging as you tried to take all of him. Your hand was cupping his balls and your saliva was dripping onto the floor as you gagged again. You looked up at him with watery eyes, and this time when he stroked your cheek, he could feel himself.

"So good," Bradley growled. "God, you're the best."

You sucked and bobbed until he was sure he was going to lose his mind, and then he withdrew with a snap of his hips. He stroked himself twice, whispered, "I'm about to cum," and then he watched you flinch and giggle as ribbons of white landed on your cheeks and lips. His cum hit your nose, and then you opened your mouth for him.

"Fuck," he grunted, pumping every last bit onto your beautiful features, and then he was between your lips again as you licked him clean.

"Baby, don't move," he begged, scrambling to find his phone. "Will you let me take a picture?"

"Yes," you said with a laugh, licking him from your lips. "You can add it to your dirty photo album. Remember the passcode?"

"I sure do," he grunted, snapping a few pictures of you kneeling on his kitchen floor with his cum on your face. And then he was kneeling too and kissing you and telling you he loved you.

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

You slept better in Bradley's arms than you ever did at home. He told you once you were curled up in his bed with him that he was getting nervous about the custody hearing. You tried to be encouraging. "There's no way anyone would let someone take Noah away from you. You're his only parent as far as he's concerned. He only knows love from you, Bradley."

"And you," he said softly. Warmth filled your heart as he added, "Noah knows that you love him. He lights up around you, and he's just as comfortable with you as he is with me. You're the best thing that ever happened to us."

You were supposed to be the one comforting him. But you ended up dozing off in his arms filled with hope instead. The next morning, he let you drive his Bronco "as a test" on the way to Noah's daycare. You had offered to keep Noah with you for the day instead, but Bradley insisted you spend your time finishing your school projects.

"Okay," Bradley said as you parked in the daycare lot. "I'm fine with you driving the Bronco around. Do you remember the rules about parking lots?"

"Oh my god," you mumbled. "You're really not going to get Noah out and move along with your day until I answer correctly, are you?"

"No." His face looked serious as you laughed and promised you wouldn't park next to the cart return, another car or any sort of living plant.

"That's my Princess," he crooned, running Noah inside once you'd said goodbye to him. Then you dropped Bradley off at work, but this time, you crawled across the seat to straddle his lap for a moment.

"I love you," he whispered as you combed your fingers through his hair and kissed him.

"I love you too, Daddy. I'll pick you up here at five," you promised, pressing your forehead to his. "And then I'll cuddle you all night, and you won't be worried about tomorrow at all. I can see on your face that you're thinking about Meredith. But think about Noah instead."

He wrapped his arms around you and sighed. "I'm always thinking about Noah. And you. And us." He kissed you one last time, and you let him climb out. "I love you, Princess."

You waved to him on the sidewalk, and then Jake joined him, and you waved to both of them. Then you stuck your head out the window and called out, "Can't wait to have you again later, Bradley! Oh, hi, Jake."

Then you started the engine again as your boyfriend laughed while Jake walked away. If you could at least make him laugh today, maybe that would make dealing with tomorrow a little easier. But it was hard not to think about what he and Noah might be up against. You couldn't let yourself dwell on it. Instead you drove to the grocery store with Bradley's credit card tucked inside your wallet.

You got all the staples, including your coffee creamer and everything you would need to make a big batch of ants on logs. Then you picked out some things you could teach Bradley how to make along with everything Noah liked. And you spent over two hundred dollars. Bradley had assured you that you could get whatever you thought they all needed and put it on his credit card.

You were skimming the receipt as you pushed your cart to the Bronco. "Yikes," you muttered, loading bag after bag into the back, extra careful not to bump his precious vehicle with the cart. Then you closed it up and took the cart to the return.

Just as you were digging his key out of your pocket, you looked up. You made eye contact with Meredith. She was standing there, right next to the Bronco.

"What do you want?" you asked. Your voice sounded strong, and you realized you were not even slightly intimidated by this woman when Noah wasn't with you. What could she really do to you in the middle of a parking lot at nearly ten in the morning?

She looked angry, eyeing you up and down and glancing at the Bronco. "I can't believe he lets you drive that. It's worth a fortune," she said, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder and scowling.

The car key was digging into your clenched fist, but you didn't close the distance to her. "Let me rephrase my question: What the fuck do you want, Meredith?"

"Such a filthy mouth on you. And you're spending time with my child," she said casually. "Lovely."

"Are you following me?"

She rolled her eyes, and you hated her so much. You supposed you could see how she was physically attractive, but you only felt the desire to kick her.

"I'm not following you. I'm about to go grocery shopping. This is the store I always come to. But I wouldn't mind chatting a bit. I'd be more than happy to use your potty mouth and the fact that you're sleeping with Bradley against him in court."

You laughed out loud. "Well, you'd have to actually show up first. Are you going to be there tomorrow? Or run and hide at the last minute again?"

Her scowl was back. "You have a lot of questions, huh? Well, so do I. Is all that life insurance money still in an account for Noah? Or did you spread your legs open wide enough to get Bradley to pay for your little nursing degree?"

You gasped out loud. You would never do that. You loved Noah and Bradley. And now you were afraid you'd just walked into a trap. Meredith was looking at you from ten feet away like it was a showdown. One that she intended to win, because she brought the correct ammunition when you clearly had not.

"I guess the money is still there then," she said, starting to look more satisfied. "You know he'll never commit to you, right? He was always afraid of commitment."

"Yet you're the one who abandoned her child," you said softly, but not without conviction.

She took a step closer to you, venom in her voice. "I didn't want to be held down, but things change."

"Do you even want him? Or are you just trying to get back at Bradley?" you asked, unable to stop yourself. "Because Noah deserves a family who loves him. You left them. But Bradley loves him. Bradley would do anything for him."

Her voice was like steel. "And I deserve a lot more than what I'm getting." She spun on her heel and started to charge away.

"What does that mean?!" you called after her. But she didn't stop or turn back. "Meredith!" You got nothing but the back of her blonde hair, and then she was in her BMW and driving away.

"What the hell?" you muttered to yourself, hands shaking as you put the key in the ignition and started the Bronco. You had to sit for a minute until you were calm enough to drive. Thank goodness you hadn't kept Noah with you today. Thank goodness you'd been alone. And at least Bradley didn't have to deal with this either.

Oh, he was going to be so upset when you told him later. He'd be mad you didn't interrupt him at work this instant, but you weren't going to do that. You needed to get back to his house right away and get on his computer. Carefully, you put the Bronco in drive. Apparently this thing was worth a fortune. Bradley had a nice house, and he probably paid a pretty penny for Noah's fancy daycare. He told you to spend his money on whatever you wanted at the grocery store. But there was some sort of life insurance money, too? What was going on here?

Your brain was swimming, or maybe drowning as you parked in Bradley's driveway and forced yourself to carry in the groceries and put all of the food away before you locked the front door behind you and turned his computer on. You entered his ridiculous password which you were definitely going to have to make him change, and you started your search.

Hours went by, and you subsided on only coffee. Then you checked the time on your phone. It was almost five o'clock. You were going to be late to pick them up, and now you had more questions than answers as you ran back out to the Bronco.

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Okay, Meredith. Okay. Daddy will see you in the courtroom. Hope you enjoy your fic, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !

PART 24

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srvbryn · 2 months

Text

Luke Castellan. Flowers? What flowers

Luke Castellan X f!reader

summary: candlelit dinner with Luke Castellan

Valentine's prompt is from Valentine's Day Prompt

A/n: I apologize for posting shitty fanfic 😔🙏🏻

Luke revealed a stunning bouquet of vibrant flowers in the delicate shine of a lit candle, “Behold! Unparalleled beautiful flowers, suitable for my lovely lady.”

(Name) raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into an amused grin. "Luke, flowers and a candlelit dinner? have i swallowed a romance novel? did you?”

Luke winked, striking a pose. "Why not both? I'm a man of many talents, you know."

He couldn't help but say, "Consider it a token of my undying gratitude for your unmatched skill to endure my behaviour," as she happily accepted the bouquet.

She playfully rolled her eyes. "Flowers, Luke? I thought we were more of a prank and sarcasm kind of friendship."

Luke laughed, "Well, I figured a bit of floral finesse wouldn't hurt. Besides, even mischief-makers like me need a touch of romance."

Their conversation flowed naturally all throughout the candlelit dinner, telling an amusing story that only two closest companions was able.

Luke leaned back and smirked in satisfaction after telling an extremely long story concerning an incident involving spaghetti. "Who needs a romance novel when we've got this absurdly entertaining day?"

(Name) chuckled, toying with the flowers. "True, our story might not be a bestseller, but it's definitely a wild ride."

The evening wore on with laughter, shared memories, and more than a few clumsy attempts at being overly romantic.

Luke took a deep breath, "So, uh, Angel, about these flowers... they're not just for show."

(Name) raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on her lips. "Oh? Is this a new chapter in the Luke Castellan playbook, or did someone switch our scripts?"

He chuckled nervously, "Well, let's just say these flowers are... my way of saying something."

Her curiosity piqued, (Name) leaned in. "Spill it, Luke. I'm not great at deciphering floral messages."

Moving closer, he gave her another bouquet. "Consider these flowers as an introduction for what I'm going to say."

As she accepted the bouquet, he added, "I might be a prankster and a charmer, but there's something I've been wanting to tell you for a while."

(Name) looked at him, intrigue mixed with a hint of surprise. "Okay, Luke, hit me with it."

Taking a deep breath, Luke locked eyes with her. "I think... no, scratch that, I know that what we have is more than just friendship. (Name), I... I really like you. More than just friends."

Her eyes widened, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Luke, are you telling me you're about to confess, right here, surrounded by candlelight and flowers?"

He nodded, "yeah I am"

She chuckled, "Well, I appreciate the fact that you swallowed a romance book for all this courage," (name) continues "But, in all seriousness, I like you too, Luke."

Relief washed over him, and Luke grinned. "So, we're on the same page?"

(Name) leaned in, closing the gap between them. "Absolutely."

Warmth of the moment enveloped them as their lips found each other in a sweet and tender kiss.

As they pulled away, Luke couldn't help but smile. "Well, that was definitely not in the usual playbook."

(Name) laughed, "Who needs a playbook when we've got this?" She gestured between them, the flickering candlelight casting a soft glow on their intertwined hands.

As they withdrew, their laughter continued to reverberate, but Luke couldn't help but grin. "You know, (Name), if I knew you were a good kisser, I would've confessed earlier."

(Name) raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in her eyes. "Oh, is that so? Maybe you should've done your research before the grand confession."

Luke chuckled, and before he could react, (Name) playfully tugged at his necktie. "Research or not, let me show you what you've been missing."

She pulled him in for another kiss. The soft glow of candlelight painted their shared moment.

Luke smirked, "Maybe romance novels were onto something after all."

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #luke castellan x you #luke castellan fluff #charlie bushnell

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bella-rose29 · 2 months

Text

paper rings

Anthony Lockwood x fem!reader

Word count: 10.2k words

Warnings: mild spoilers for the later books (this is set after TEG and they're all 18+), a LOT of mildly explicit innuendoes and sexual references, swearing

this is my Valentine's Day surprise that I've been talking about, so happy Valentine's Day to you all! <3

based on the Taylor Swift song of the same name

Anthony Lockwood masterlist

It was nearly 2 in the morning, and Y/n L/n was exhausted.

She had been on a case for the last seven hours and everything hurt and ached - including places in her body she didn't even know she had - and she just wanted her bed and an incredibly large cup of tea.

So why was she having to babysit three other agents who really should have been old enough to look after themselves?

Two of them seemed to be high on flare fumes, giggling about absolutely nothing and making weird sounds every few seconds. The third was smiling fondly at his friends and coworkers, but wasn't doing anything to stop them from getting closer and closer to the edge of their sanity.

Y/n sighed for the millionth time in the last ten minutes, and the third agent (the one who wasn't as insane as the other two - she'd nicknamed him Beanpole) looked over from where he was leaning back against the DEPRAC van with his arms crossed. Somehow he looked effortlessly cool and relaxed, despite the plasma stains and dirt covering his entire body.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“I'm fine, just want to go home and stop looking after three other agents.”

“Ah, that’s fair. Wait, 'looking after’?”

“Yeah, Barnes told me to keep an eye on you three 'cause you were in trouble or something.”

“Oh, we're not in trouble,” he grinned, and although she rolled her eyes she couldn't deny the way her heart skipped a beat at his smile. “Barnes just likes being dramatic. We didn't do anything.” Somehow she didn't believe him, but the sheer amount of charm that was pouring out of him was making her disregard any concerns she had about how truthful he was being.

“So what is it that you aren't in trouble for then?” His grin only grew wider, and Y/n found herself smiling back.

“Minor property damage. But in our defence our client didn't warn us about the malignant smoke that she'd seen creeping out of the basement or even the intense waves of nausea she felt when walking past her under stairs cupboard. So we really can't take any of the blame for completely decimating her bannisters and front hall. Plus, we're insured.”

“No you're not,” Barnes interrupted, joining the conversation and holding a manilla folder. “You didn't have your DEPRAC standardised iron chains, Lockwood. Not according to this report.” That made Beanpole (Lockwood? Although that didn't sound much like a name) stand up, uncrossing his arms as a frown decorated his pretty face.

“What? But we did, I made sure after Mrs Hope's house.” Y/n didn't know what had happened at Mrs Hope's house, but from the way Barnes was frowning even more than usual and somehow looking even more unimpressed with Beanpole she figured she didn't want to know. “You can go in and check if you like, they're still in the hall.”

“Fine. L/n, you go in and check.”

“What?”

“Just check the chains are there, then come back. They managed to at least get rid of the ghosts.”

“Alright,” she grumbled, hoisting her belt up a little and trudging off in the direction of the building Barnes had pointed her to. She shouldn't even be here, since she was meant to have been at home around half an hour ago, but now she was making her way into some random woman's house to carry out a job that any random DEPRAC officer could have done (if what Barnes had said about the other agents removing the Visitors was true). She pushed open the door, glad for her gloves at the chill in the air, and scoffed when she immediately laid eyes on the thick iron chains that had been kicked to the side in the fight. Y/n picked them up, huffing under the added weight, and was about to turn and leave when her eyes caught on the state of the front hall. “What the actual fuck…” she whispered, then shook her head and closed the door behind her, choosing to ignore the mess inside.

“Well?” Barnes demanded when she'd made her way back. She dropped the chains at his feet.

“Yep. I don't know why I had to do that though, anyone could have looked.” She was being irritable, she knew, but she thought she was perfectly justified in feeling that way.

“Alright.” Barnes looked unhappy about the whole situation too, but that wasn't Y/n's fault. “Then just sign these papers and you three can go.” Beanpole was smiling smugly, and he nodded and took the papers that Barnes handed him.

“Thank you, Inspector. Luce, George, here.” They were both still laughing at something only they knew about, clutching their sides as they took the sheets of paper that Beanpole handed them.

“Can I go home too?” Y/n asked Barnes while the others signed the forms.

“Yeah. Maybe catch a ride with these three, they're your way.”

“Fine.”

A few minutes later the four of them were piled into a taxi and heading off down the road in the direction of Marylebone.

“So,” Beanpole started. The moon was shining bright on his face through the taxi window, making him look like a Visitor himself when combined with his already pale skin and the dark shadows under his eyes. He still looked effortlessly gorgeous though, and Y/n found herself wondering if he was single. “You're an agent then. Solo?”

“Oh, yeah. Never liked working for the big companies. They never really cared about the people, you know? Shit,” her eyes widened as she realised what she'd said. “Are you a company?”

“Yes, but don't worry. We have a grand total of four people at our agency. Sometimes five or six if we get extra help from others.”

“That's... very small. Is the fourth your supervisor?”

“No, our secretary actually. Holly doesn't much like being in the field anymore though, but that works out alright for us. She still gets paid a good amount.”

“So if you don't have a supervisor…”

“I'm the agency head,” he smiled, but now instead of appearing chipper and light, he looked tired and weighed down by the responsibility of running a company and looking after his coworkers. “Anthony Lockwood, Lockwood and Co.”

“Y/n L/n, formerly of Fittes.” They shook hands awkwardly in the limited space they had in the back of the taxi.

“And you left because they don't care about the people?”

“That's right. I always wanted to connect more, but I guess that's because of my Touch. Fittes were much more businesslike about it all, just going in and getting the job done and not caring about anything other than having another successful case under their belt. It just didn't sit right with me.”

“Well if you ever feel like working for a company again, you could always come and work with us,” Anthony Lockwood said. “I'm sure we could do with someone like you helping us out. Besides, we do care about the people; it's pretty much the only thing going for us other than our skill in the field.”

“First stop?” the driver called out, slowing the vehicle.

“Oh, that's me,” Y/n stated, grabbing the door handle and getting out. “Thanks for letting me ride with you.” She moved to the boot of the taxi to take her kit bag and rapier, and was surprised when Anthony Lockwood followed her, helping her to balance all the bags inside and making sure that nothing fell out. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem. And I mean it, if you ever feel like joining us on a case then just come and find us.”

“That's... that's actually nice of you, thank you.” He nodded with a smile, then clambered back into the taxi (which looked difficult with how long and thin his limbs were). She stood on the pavement for a few moments, waiting for the taxi to start moving again and waving at the three agents left in the cab as they drove off down the road.

As soon as she was inside her shared house, door firmly shut and locked and kettle boiling on the stove, she pulled up the chair at her desk and switched on her computer, typing in her password and logging in. Ten minutes later she had a mug of tea brewing on her desk while she furiously tapped at the keyboard for any information on Lockwood and Co, and was pleasantly surprised by what she found. There wasn't much, since she couldn't access a lot of the full reports of cases, but there was a decent number of newspaper articles that had been uploaded for her to read. One detailed the £60,000 fine that the company had been given for setting fire to a certain Mrs Hope's home a few years prior, and from the blurry black and white photo the blaze looked like it hadn't left much behind.

Further research provided an address for their agency at 35 Portland Row, not far away from where she currently lived. One or two articles were about the parade incident from the Black Winter and Lockwood and Co's success in protecting the people present, but other than that there wasn't much more.

She sat back in her chair, sipping the last of her tea. Bedtime for now, but when she finally woke up she'd head to the nearest corner store and pick up some food. The fridge had been nearly empty when she'd looked earlier, and she knew that Portland Row was on the way back.

She wanted to say thank you again (and totally not spy on their house), and everybody loved a doughnut.

~~~

Y/n had knocked on the door roughly two minutes ago, and nobody had answered.

She knew that they were all at home, because she could hear them arguing about who was going to answer the door, but nobody had done it yet.

Knocking once more while balancing the box of doughnuts in her other hand she sighed, waited another thirty seconds, and just as she turned to leave she heard the locks click behind her. The door swung open to reveal Anthony Lockwood, once more dressed in a suit (a lot cleaner than the one he'd been wearing in the early hours of that morning), and a wide smile on his face.

“It's you! Miss L/n, was it?”

“Uh, yeah. Just Y/n is fine though. Um, I just wanted to say thanks again for the lift last night, and for being nice and shit when you didn't have to be, and I bought some doughnuts if you guys wanted them.” She tried to surreptitiously peer around him to take a look at his front hall, but the interior was quite dark and cluttered and it was difficult to pretend to not be inspecting somebody's home when they were stood in front of you.

“Oh, you really didn't have to, Y/n.” He took the box out of her hands anyway. “Did you want to come in?”

“No, thank you. I should get back. I've got a lot of paperwork to get through and I think one of my housemates is cleaning today and wanted everyone's help, so…” she trailed off, rocking slightly on her heels while Anthony Lockwood watched her.

“Right, well, thanks for stopping by! And for the doughnuts, that was very generous of you.”

She shrugged. “I've had taxi rides with people I was actually working with and they were complete arseholes to me, so I really appreciated you not being like that when you didn't even know me.”

“Anytime.” He paused for a moment, then frowned at her. “How did you find us? I know I said that you could always drop by but I don't remember actually telling you where we live. There's not a problem with it, by the way, just curious.”

“Oh, I looked it up. Figured you meant to tell me and never got round to it. Besides, I needed to go shopping anyway and I live nearby, so it wasn't too difficult for me.”

“Ah, that makes sense. Well it was lovely seeing you again, Y/n. I look forward to our next meeting.” His smile was infectious, and she still had a grin on her face at the thought of him when she went to bed that night.

~~~

For the next few months, both Y/n and Lockwood and Co were busy with their own cases, but regularly passed each other in the street. Anthony Lockwood had taken to sending her a wink or flirty quite early on, and because Y/n believed it impossible that someone like him was single and therefore able to chase after someone like her, she ignored him. Every now and then she would indulge him, of course, flirting back to see how he would react (he was always pleasantly surprised and kept their little game going for as long as he could before he was needed), but for the most part she would walk right past him.

It wasn't entirely her fault, since many of the times they bumped into each other she was on a time schedule, and didn't have the extra minute or so to flirt with the pretty boy.

The last time had been different, though.

~~~

“Hello again, darling,” a voice said from her left, and Y/n smiled when she recognised it right away as Lockwood's. They knew each other better now, from the few times that they had been able to talk for longer and ask how the other was doing, and when he had found out that she was calling him Anthony Lockwood in her head he gave her a look of barely contained amusement and told her she could pick one.

Anthony had felt too personal, since everyone else that spoke to him seemed to call him Lockwood, and she didn't think they knew each other that well for her to use his first name.

“Come here often?” he asked, appearing in her field of view and leaning on the table she was sat at in the small night café.

“Only when I know that you're going to be here,” Y/n responded, and delighted in the faint pink tinge that came onto his cheeks.

“May I?” He gestured to the chair opposite her, and she nodded.

“Not with your friends tonight?”

“No, they're probably at home already, lucky bastards. My case ran on a bit longer than I expected, and I couldn't wait for a cup of tea. Plus, when I saw you in here I couldn't not come and see you.”

They sat there for a while, making their way through two cups of tea each before deciding to leave, and Lockwood offered to take the taxi home with her.

When they were nearly back to Y/n's house, he spoke up.

“I'll pay, if you like. I'll be paying for this stretch of the journey anyway so it doesn't make much of a difference to me.”

“Oh, Lockwood, I can pay you for my part at least, it's not a big deal to me.”

“Nonsense.” He seemed to hesitate for a moment, just as they drove around the corner onto her street. “Or… you could come back to Portland Row with me?” Their flirting had never gone as far as properly inviting the other back to their place (although there had always been the comments of 'why don't we finish this somewhere else?' or 'wanna come home with me and prove it?'), and it took Y/n a moment to realise that he was being serious.

“I mean... if you're sure? I don't want to impose or anything.”

“No, you won't be imposing, darling. George and Lucy will be asleep, I'm sure. I think there's half a bottle of wine that needs finishing off if you wanted to share? No pressure though.”

“That sounds great, actually.”

“So are you two both going to Portland Row then?” the driver called, and Lockwood nodded.

“Yes please.” He turned back to Y/n, worry starting to creep into his expression. “You did agree, right?”

“Yes, Lockwood, I did. I think I need something that's not tea to be honest.”

“You can stay the night, too. If you need to. I'll sleep on the sofa and you can have my bed.”

“I'm not kicking you out of your own bed, Lockwood. How big is it?”

“Darling, I'm scandalised that you would ask me that question. You know that size doesn't mat-” He was cut off by Y/n smacking him in the chest, and he chuckled when she glared at him.

“The bed, Lockwood, how big is the bed? If I wanted to know the size of your dick I'd ask you to strip.” She ignored the weird look that the driver cast them in his rear view mirror and focused on Lockwood's answer instead.

“Steady, darling. We're not back yet.” He yelped when she whacked him again, and caught her wrists and held them so that she couldn't attack him anymore. “It's a double.”

“Well then we can both fit, can't we?”

“Asking me to strip, getting me into bed with you? If I didn't know any better, darling, I'd say that you were trying to seduce me,” he smirked, leaning in close.

“Oh, Lockwood. I think we both know I did that a long time ago, don't we.” They were dangerously close to kissing, their lips only a couple of centimetres away from each other while their noses brushed with every jolt in the road, and then the taxi was slowing and pulling up to the curb outside 35 Portland Row.

“Alright you two, out. And use protection please, you're too young to be havin' kids.” Y/n flushed and opened the door, moving around to the boot to take out her kit bag and rapier, and when Lockwood followed a moment later after paying the driver his face was red too.

~~~

“Here,” Lockwood said, handing over a tea mug filled with wine.

“Thanks. You're sure the others won't mind us drinking this?”

“They've had plenty of time to drink it, and I own the house and therefore the kitchen and the contents of the fridge are mine too, so I say it's fair game.” His smile was slightly blinding, but Y/n had learned to see past the glare and look at his eyes instead, finding the pure joy behind the façade he put up for the world to see.

They didn't know each other that well, when everything was considered, but Y/n did call him her friend when describing their relationship, and she did feel that if asked, Lockwood would say the same.

Around thirty minutes later Y/n was nearly doubled over with laughter at some stupid thing that Lockwood had said (the wine had gone straight to her head and she had no recollection of what exactly he had said), clutching her sides as they sat in the cluttered library with the bottle of wine between them.

“You, Anthony Lockwood, are ridiculous!”

“I am! In fact, have I shown you my hat collection?”

“Is that some sort of weird euphemism? Or are you genuinely more deranged than I thought you were?”

“Not a euphemism, love,” he grinned, and Y/n in her wine-addled state thought about how he was starting to look like the deranged young man she'd just accused him of being.

“So... you actually have a hat collection? Why?” Lockwood shrugged.

“It's good for disguises when I need to do a little bit of extra research for a case. I can do accents too!”

“No offence, Lockwood, but I've heard some of your accents, and I'm very surprised that you haven't been hunted down and killed yet.”

“Believe me, people have tried!” Somehow he didn't look concerned about that, still smiling just as widely as before, and Y/n thought he looked rather nice like that.

~~~

When she woke up in the morning, Y/n realised she had never taken the painkillers Lockwood had left on the bedside table for her to use.

“Shit,” she whispered, grabbing the packet and the glass of water and swallowing the pills the best she could in an attempt to stave off the headache that had formed. After finishing off the wine, Lockwood had managed to find some more alcohol hidden away in a cupboard in the library ("It's my personal stash, so don't worry about feeling guilty about drinking this") and they had stayed up until it was nearly sunrise talking about everything and nothing. She was regretting not drinking the water before sleeping, and when she flopped back onto the bed and under the covers she realised that there was someone else in the bed with her.

Lockwood looked peaceful asleep.

While she didn't mind waking up next to him in the morning (the view was actually rather nice), not being able to remember what had happened the night before was a little disturbing, especially since she was in her underwear and, as far as she could tell, Lockwood wasn't wearing any clothes.

The bedsheets had been partially kicked off in the night, most likely because the heating was apparently on full from the very warm temperature of the room, and the duvet had bunched up around Lockwood's waist. She didn't want to wake him by trying to find out if anything had happened last night, since he probably never slept with the sheer size of the shadows under his eyes, so instead she carefully got out of bed and picked up her clothes.

Finding all of her things was difficult, since they'd been flung all around the room in what she hoped was drunkenness and not desperation, but after nearly ten minutes she was dressed and reaching for the door handle. She didn't make it that far though, because before she could leave the sounds of somebody waking up started coming from the bed, and Lockwood was asking her where she was going.

“Oh, I just... I just figured you wouldn't want me to stick around-”

“Why would you think that?” He was rubbing his eyes and sitting up, and she had to force her gaze away from where the sheets were dangerously close to revealing whether or not they had slept together.

“I don't know.” There was silence for a minute or so while Lockwood tried to wake up enough to work out what was going on, and Y/n stood by the door feeling very awkward. “Did we... did anything happen? Last night?”

“Don't think so. I feel like I would remember that, darling,” he winked, and she felt her face heat up.

“Oh, right. Yeah.”

“You don't seem convinced.”

“No, I am,” she said, very unconvincingly. There was another silence while she hesitated. “Are you naked?” she blurted out, immediately covering her face with her hands to block out Lockwood's shocked reaction. His laughter didn't help, only serving to make her feel more embarrassed than she already was, and she stayed safely behind her hands while she waited for it all to be over.

“No, darling, I'm not naked. But if you wanted me to be then I'm sure we could figure something out.” She could hear the amusement in his voice and groaned in frustration, knowing that he wouldn't ever let her live this moment down.

“I'm good, thanks.” She didn't really mean it, but it was nice to have a friend like Lockwood, and she figured that having sex with him probably wouldn't help to keep that friendship at all.

“Alright. Well if you don't want to see me in my pants then keep your hands there, I'm getting out of bed.” For the most part she obeyed, but she would be lying if she said that she didn't peek through her fingers briefly while he was getting dressed.

~~~

Luckily the other members of Lockwood and Co were not at home when Y/n left that morning, having said no to Lockwood's offer of breakfast (she would pick up something from Arif's, even if it was out of her way a little), and within half an hour she was back in her own house with a very large cup of tea and a plate of food in her favourite armchair in the living room.

When one of her housemates asked her where she had been all night, a suggestive tone to her question, Y/n simply shrugged, and replied “What's it to you?”

~~~

One week later she was running for her life.

It wasn't that this sort of thing didn't happen often, since her job required a lot of running a lot of the time, but normally she wasn't this exhausted from it. She wasn't even working on a case, either. Y/n had just been walking home from her actual case for that night when she'd accidentally taken a wrong turn in her fatigued state and had come face to face with a bunch of Type Twos.

At least she had her rapier and a few flares and salt bombs left, and her boots were solid enough that despite how much running she had already done that night, she couldn't feel the ground beneath her feet when normally her soles would be protesting in pain.

“Fuck's sake,” she grumbled, heading for the nearest iron fence she could find. Unfortunately she still had to cross a road that was surprisingly busy at this time of night (or morning? she wasn't sure where the line between the two was drawn) and then vault over the fence into the park, which was probably also infested with Visitors. Going against every action movie she had ever seen she looked back (which was precisely what she shouted at the characters for), then immediately stumbled since she couldn't see where she was going. Her brief pause in her flight allowed the Visitors to catch up a little, and within a few seconds she was seeing her life flash before her eyes and throwing up her rapier in a last ditch attempt to not die.

Then something else was flashing before her eyes, and the ghosts were being driven off.

Y/n realised with a start that the flash had been Lockwood and his stupid grin, dressed in his stupid long coat that was stupidly attractive on him, waving his rapier around in stupidly perfect motions.

“Did you miss me, darling?” She didn't even have time to respond, already ducking to not be hit by the bicycle a Poltergeist had sent flying their way, and Lockwood pushed her to the ground to dodge the railing that followed. They landed with a thump, and Y/n winced when her back hit the concrete of the pavement and then again a very brief moment later when Lockwood landed on her.

“I did, Lockwood. I really did miss you.” She hoped that he could see how sincere she was, and he looked as though he was about to say something. Unfortunately he was cut off when a badly-aimed salt bomb exploded right above their heads, and a small “Sorry!” was called out from somewhere nearby.

“Not to worry, George!” Lockwood yelled back as he got off the floor. He offered out a hand and Y/n let him pull her up, holding her breath when he pulled with more force than was needed and she fell into his chest. “Woah,” he said, voice quiet. “You alright?” His free hand had come up to steady her by the arm, and now he was gently stroking up and down. She wondered if he knew he was doing it.

“Yeah. Can we maybe run away from the death bikes?”

“I think that would be a good idea. You going home?” Y/n shook her head.

“One of my housemates has their partner over, and I'd really rather not be there. I was gonna put up with it but if you're offering your bed again I won't say no,” she teased. Lockwood's face went pink, but not from the cold or the running.

“I'm always offering my bed, darling, you should know that by now.” His smile was as blinding as the flash he had appeared in, and then he was tugging her hand and leading her away from the ghosts (which wouldn't be able to follow after a while, since she'd already run quite far from their Sources), and instead heading for 35 Portland Row.

When they made it inside (Lucy was already in bed, but Lockwood and George had been coming back from a case like Y/n), George bade the two of them goodnight, then tiredly climbed the stairs, leaving Lockwood and Y/n in the front hall. It was dimly lit, only the lamp on the hall cupboard providing any reprise from the darkness, and the yellow glow of it made Lockwood look ethereal.

He had dust and dirt all over him, staining his usually perfect white shirt and tie, and his hair was a mess from the slight wind outside, but he still wore his confidence and his charm like a second skin, and he had never looked more like Anthony Lockwood in all the time Y/n had known him.

“What were you even doing out there?” he asked.

“I was coming back from a job, took a wrong turn somewhere, and came face to face with those fuckers. I'm just really glad that you were there in time because I probably would've ended up in hospital otherwise. Or a furnace.”

“I'm glad I was there too,” Lockwood said, stepping forward. He made to move his hand, as though he might reach out and touch hers, but then his fist was clenching at his side again, fingers flexing every few seconds. “I thought you would be alright, really. Then I saw you trip - why the hell did you look back? You always get annoyed when they do that in movies. I was scared, Y/n, that you might not get back up again.” She could tell that he meant it too, from the way he was looking at her. It was almost too much, his gaze, since it was heavy with so much emotion that they hadn't even properly addressed between them, and that was probably why he kissed her.

She both had and hadn't been expecting it.

It made sense when she thought about it, because beneath all the teasing and flirting there was attraction and a real desire, and she had always figured that being with someone was easier if you knew and trusted them. But she had never thought that either of them would act on it, since both of them seemed happy to let the friendship cover up the truth because at least that meant they weren't without the other. Bringing the truth to light could ruin that, and then they might not see each other at all.

Now, though, she wondered why they hadn't kissed before.

It had been brief, a few seconds at most, but it was enough to make her realise that they had been incredibly stupid in not doing it earlier. She had had such a long night - they both had - and when he pressed his lips to hers for the second time she knew that despite the fatigue and near death experiences involving bicycles, they would be alright. Her hands had moved without her fully knowing, and when they pulled away after the second kiss she realised that they were in his hair and clutching his coat that he hadn't taken off yet. His were nestled around her waist, holding her close to him while he searched her eyes for any sign to stop.

The third kiss was the longest yet, and it took them a long time to move from the front hall to his bedroom.

~~~

Y/n had always been a fan of anything that shone, and had been called a magpie by nearly everyone that knew her.

It didn't matter if it was expensive or not, if it was shiny, then she would have it. Growing up she hadn't been used to expense, and finding trinkets on the street was her speciality, but every now and then someone would buy her something a little less on the cheap side, and she would be overjoyed.

Then of course there were the things she bought herself.

The Fittes Ball that she was on her way to had invited agents of all kinds (a rarity for solo agents who usually went forgotten), and her outfit was one of the most expensive things that she had bought yet (other than her shared house). It was worth it, though, for the look on Lockwood's face when he first saw her.

“You look incredible, Y/n/n!” Lucy gushed, immediately wrapping her new friend in a hug. George and Holly agreed, and while their fussing was nice it was Lockwood's opinion she really wanted. They hadn't spoken after the night they spent together two weeks ago, and now he had an unreadable expression on his face while he looked at her. It was ridiculous, really, how nervous she was to know what he was thinking, since she had never usually cared about what any man thought of her.

“Thank you, I love your dress, Luce! And George, are you actually in a suit? No, no, no, you look very nice! Holly, you look incredible as always,” she said, returning the compliments her friends had given her. Her gaze kept darting back to Lockwood though, and after the others had moved away to talk to someone else, he cleared his throat.

“Y/n.”

“Lockwood.” He took a step towards her.

“You know I told you you could call me Anthony.” He had, not long after he'd taken her to his bed.

“Oh, right. I didn't know if that was just... for then.” She was struggling to look at him now, so she missed the way his expression softened.

“It's for whenever, darling.”

“Okay,” she said, and the small smile he gave her made her heart beat a little faster in her chest.

“You look stunning, darling. Truly.”

“So do you, Anthony,” she replied, and this time she took a step forward to close the distance. A frown came onto her face, and when he asked her why she paused for a moment before answering. “What are we? Because we haven't spoken since... since that night, and now we're acting like we did before and I'm just quite confused.”

Instead of responding with words, he dug into his suit jacket pocket and pulled out a folded paper, handing it to her a second later. She tried not to focus too much on his hands (the memories of two weeks ago were coming back to the front of her mind now) and took it with confusion, starting to unfold it.

“Oh, I'll be back in a minute, George is calling me over.” He flashed her one of his winning smiles and was off, moving in what she assumed was the direction of George. She finally unfolded the paper and was surprised to see that it was mostly blank, just one question and two little points below it. A pen had been folded into it, and she bit back a smile when she'd read the words.

Would you go on a date with me? Please circle one answer

yes

He was ridiculous, she had decided, but then again she couldn't deny how ridiculously cute it was that he'd written out this mini questionnaire and put it in his pocket, despite not knowing whether she would actually be here or not to take it from him. Why he'd left immediately she didn't know, but maybe he was just too nervous to find out her reaction right away. She clicked the pen and circled 'yes' the best she could with no hard surface to lean on, and winced when the paper punctured. He knew where to find her, but she wrote her address anyway and the house phone number, and refolded the paper. Looking around she couldn't immediately see him, but then she caught a flash of a smile that could only have belonged to one Mr Anthony Lockwood, and she made for where he stood. He blushed slightly when he caught sight of her, then his cheeks burned brighter when she tucked the piece of paper and the pen in the pocket just inside his jacket (standing much closer to him than she needed to), and walked away without a word.

~~~

Two hours later they had snuck into the Fittes building's public library, giggling about something stupid one of the stuck-up snobs who was far too old to still be alive had said while they sipped the fancy champagne that was being served.

“Do you think they get many kids in here? Like, actual kids who would need entertaining?” she asked, making Anthony look round from where he'd been perusing the shelves.

“I doubt it. Why?”

“They've got origami. Look,” she pointed, putting her champagne flute down on a sideboard and picking up a sheet. “I used to be able to make loads of things, but I reckon if I tried making a rabbit or something now it'd look like someone folded a bit of paper a bunch of times and then sat on it.”

“I used to make those snowflakes where you fold it into quarters and cut bits out. Got quite good in the end; I could make chains of them eventually.”

“Of course you're good at making paper snowflakes,” she muttered, no hint of malice behind it. “You're good at everything, I swear.”

“Oh, that's not true.”

“Really? Name one thing that you can't do.” He paused, and she could practically see the cogs turning in his head. “See? You can't do it!”

“Well, I don't think that was very fair, actually, because you didn't give me long enough to actually think about it!” She moved to sit down, picking out various colours of paper squares before settling on one she liked. Anthony sat down next to her, his thigh close enough to hers that she could feel his body heat through his suit. He chose his own square of paper, immediately starting to fold it in different ways.

“What are you gonna make?” she asked him, not looking up from where she was attempting to make an origami butterfly.

“That's a secret.”

“Alright then,” she snorted, “be mysterious. Is that because you're bad at origami and you're trying to hide it by making me guess?”

“Sure, that's what's happening.”

They sat in comfortable silence while they worked, and when Y/n crossed her legs she made contact with Anthony's knee and drew in a breath. She refocused and looked at the paper in her hands, frowning when she realised that she had no idea how to make a butterfly out of it anymore, and sat back with a huff.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, just bored, I suppose. What are you making?” He had folded his piece of paper into a thin strip, and now he was pulling the ends together, somehow making them link.

“May I?” he asked, gesturing to her right hand. She didn't answer for a moment, too busy watching the way his fingers moved. “Y/n?”

“Oh, right.” She let him take her left hand in his, holding her breath for the millionth time around him both at the tenderness of it all and at the way his hands were so cold compared to her warm ones. He lifted the origami up and slid it onto her fourth finger, tightening it by pushing the ends together further.

“You can take it off, if you want.”

She wasn't sure she was breathing. “Are you proposing?”

“What? No, if I was proposing you'd know about it, darling. I just… I don’t know.” He looked nervous, and although he hadn’t let go of her hand, she could see that he was fidgeting.

“I love it, Anthony. Thank you.” He smiled then, small and as under as the way he was holding her hand, and she couldn’t help but ask what she’d been wondering for the last two hours.

“Did you read my response?” Somehow he softened even more, and his grip tightened ever so slightly before he nodded.

“Yes, I did.” Had he moved closer? She thought the distance between them was no longer as frustratingly large as it had been, but he was still too far away.

“Well?”

“Are you free on Saturday? There’s a great place for lunch I’ve been dying to show you for a while now.” He was definitely closer, and she could make out the small scar on his lip in perfect detail.

“Midday work for you?”

“Absolutely.” He was still holding her hand when he kissed her gently, like he thought she might leave at any moment, and when he pulled back after a couple of seconds she dragged him right back to her lips, shifting somehow even closer to him on the seat. The gift he had made that now sat on her finger felt as heavy as a gold one, filled with the promise of what could be and happy endings, and she found herself thinking that if the two of them did ever marry, she would be happy to do so with a paper ring.

They were sat there kissing for a while, not stopping until someone shouted outside the door in drunken laughter, making Anthony and Y/n jump back in surprise. Then they were laughing too, like they were teenagers sneaking off (which, she supposed, they almost were, if you ignored the fact they were legally adults now), and he pressed one last quick kiss to her mouth before he stood up. “We should head out. I’m sure the others will be wondering where we are.” Y/n stood up too, still holding his hand, and moved to straighten his tie. She had pulled on it when they were kissing, and now it was all crooked around his neck.

“I think they probably know that we’re together, though. I doubt that they’re too worried about us.” She finished fiddling with his tie and draped her arms around his neck, and flushed when he wrapped his own arms around her waist and pulled her tight against his body. They stayed that way for a while, just trading small kisses and swaying gently back and forth.

“I’m glad,” Anthony said suddenly, breaking the silence. “That we… you know.”

“Nearly died and then slept together?”

“That’s one way of putting it. I just - I’m glad.”

“I’m glad too, Anthony.” Normally accidents like having sex with her friends was something she hated, but given it was Anthony Lockwood that it had happened with, she was happy to make an exception.

~~~

That night, while Anthony finally managed to sleep next to her, Y/n stayed awake. The glow of the ghost lamp outside had woken her a few minutes ago while she had been surfacing, and now she couldn’t get back to sleep. Her dress hung on the back of his desk chair, and various parts of his suit were slung around the room in piles from where they had thrown them earlier in their haste to be as close as possible to each other.

The ring now sat on Anthony’s bedside table, and although it wasn’t light enough in the room for her to make out its shape, she still knew exactly where it was. Before the two of them got too caught up in each other she had slipped it off, saying that she didn’t want it damaged (as it likely would have been), and when she placed it to the side her eyes had caught on the photo in the frame.

“Is that us?” she had asked, grabbing the frame with both hands.

“Oh… yes. Sorry, it was just a really nice photo and we don’t get to see each other that much, and-”

“Anthony,” she interrupted, warmth flooding her face at her next words. “I’ve got cut-outs from papers that wrote about you framed, so this is perfectly okay.”

She flushed again just thinking about it, and how softly he had smiled at her, and then how softly he had kissed her afterwards. She had been dreaming about him, about both of them, and what would have happened if they had stayed in the library at Fittes for a little longer (a lot of hushed moans and whispered words, and his hair completely dishevelled).

He was the one that she wanted, she was sure of it. There had been others, but none of them had featured in her thoughts about the future like Anthony Lockwood did.

~~~

Months later, when the seasons had gone from wonderfully warm and sunny (or as sunny as England could get) to cold and biting air, Anthony and Y/n were on a case together.

She had officially become a member of the agency not too long after they started dating, and while Lucy and George had originally been worried about the logistics of living space, they quickly realised that their new hire would be sharing a bed with their boss. Y/n had settled in quickly, getting used to how her friends lived within a few weeks, and the company had settled into a nice rhythm.

“A hotel? That’s a pretty big location, shouldn’t we have Lucy and George with us?” she asked as the taxi pulled up to their destination.

“It seems to be contained to one area, from reports, and since they had a couple of actual children give statements I’m going to trust them. Just the outdoor space around the back, apparently someone - a worker, it says here - died while manning a barbecue near the large pool.”

“How do you die manning a barbecue?”

“He fell face-first into the coals, this says,” Anthony replied, waving the paper report around. They clambered out the taxi, thanking and paying the driver, and once the kit had been collected out the boot and the driver was heading back down the road, they were alone.

“Well that’s an awful way to go. Type One? Or manifesting as something stronger?”

“Everything points to Type Two, but that’s nothing we can’t handle.”

~~~

He was right, as he so often was, but unfortunately the way in which they handled the Type Two ghost of the Barbecue Man meant they ended up jumping in a pool.

The Source had apparently been one of the tiles on the ledge, where the Barbecue Man had tripped after falling face first into the coals and cracked his skull open on the edge of the pool. A delightful scene, Y/n was sure, but they hadn’t figured out what the Source was until much later. While she had been scouring the barbecue for any sign of a trigger for the Visitor, Anthony had been drawing it closer to the pool. He seemed to be having a wonderful time taunting the poor dead man, and she couldn’t help but curse him out a little under her breath. “There’s nothing here!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Anthony, I’m pretty sure!” She was just about to tell him off for questioning her when he stepped back on his right foot and made the Visitor shriek an ungodly noise. “Wait! Draw it away from where you currently are!” She wasn’t sure if he’d actually been paying attention to her words since he didn’t give any indication that he had heard her, but a moment later he started moving away, the ghost following him, and she was able to dive for the tile. The second her hands came into contact with it she felt the pain and torment that Barbecue Man had been in in the brief minutes before his death, and at the same time that she managed to dislodge the tile (it had been knocked lose, most likely from his head after he hit it) and wrap it in a silver net, Anthony jumped in the pool. When he surfaced, hair plastered to his forehead and coat and suit completely soaked, he shouted at her to jump in too, leaving the Source on dry land. She just stared at him, but then a rush of cold air hit her and she didn’t think twice. Anthony was waving his arms around, making the water move about enough to fend off the second ghost that had appeared.

Unfortunately that meant that when Y/n attempted to come up for air, she got a face-full of water.

“Anthony!”

“Whoops. Sorry, darling. Here,” he said, offering out his hand. She took it gladly, still spluttering slightly, and they hauled themselves to the opposite side of the swimming pool. The water was freezing, but it was better than being ghost-touched, and besides, Anthony hadn’t let go of her hand yet.

~~~

Her hands were turning a little blue from the temperature of the pool.

It reminded her of when they had been redecorating one of the rooms in Portland Row about two months ago. George had complained that the room was lacking something, and all inhabitants (and Kipps, although Anthony didn’t pay him much attention) agreed that they needed to update it. They had painted it blue, not too dissimilar to the colour of Y/n’s fingers in the present day, and while it had been a wonderful day it had also been the day of her and Anthony’s first fight.

She couldn’t even remember what it had been about now, something stupid and fuelled by external factors such as job stress and fatigue, but Y/n had slept in Lucy’s bed that night.

It had been a while before either girl went to sleep, instead spending the hours attempting to stop Y/n’s crying and watching the old tapes of movies and television shows from before the Problem that Lucy had stashed away on her bookcase. When the morning had come, Lucy had offered to go downstairs and sort out breakfast for them both, so that Y/n wouldn’t have to run into Lockwood, but Y/n had shaken her head, saying that the two of them needed to figure something out.

The moment she had set foot in the kitchen, seeing the back of Anthony’s white dress shirt while he stood at the counter making teas (he had made one for her too, in her favourite mug), she had started tearing up again. He’d heard her sniffling and whipped his head around to see her hovering just inside the doorway, and immediately he had crumbled and rushed over to her, wrapping her in his arms and mumbling “I’m sorry” into her hair.

Now, back from their case with Barbecue Man, they were sat in the library, Anthony pushing a cup of freshly made tea into her hands in an attempt to get them back to their normal colour. “Feeling any better?” he asked, sitting down in the chair next to hers and picking up his magazine.

“Yeah, a bit. I can actually feel things again now, so that’s good.”

“Good. Well, I’ll keep you under surveillance for a while, just until I know you’re better.” She snorted, lifting the mug to her mouth.

“Thanks, Doc. Much appreciated.” His responding smile was enough to warm her up entirely.

~~~

A few hours later she woke up feeling disorientated, most likely because she never remembered falling asleep in the first place. Anthony was still in his chair on her left, but he had fallen asleep too, magazine splayed across his chest. Y/n stretched, yawned, and checked her watch, then started at the time. It was nearly half six in the morning, and they had come back from their case at around midnight. She wasn’t sure how long Anthony had stayed awake watching over her, but she knew that the moment he did finally regain consciousness she would be sending him straight up to bed for another few hours of sleep.

She heard somebody moving around in the kitchen and went to investigate, finding George in an oversized t-shirt and no trousers putting the kettle on to boil. “Morning,” she said, shuffling further into the room and stuffing some bread into the toaster.

“Ah, morning. Lockwood still asleep?”

“Yep. He’s in the library. Did you need him for something?”

“Oh, not really. I woke up at about four and was shockingly hungry, and when I came down he was sat reading his magazine. I was just wondering how long it would be before he was up again.” It made sense for her boyfriend to have stayed awake until he literally passed out from exhaustion, given how little Anthony normally slept anyway, and she frowned when she heard the stairs creak. A few moments later Anthony Lockwood himself appeared in the kitchen, bleary-eyed and smiling like there wasn’t a thing wrong with him only getting about two and a half hours of sleep. “I need the toilet,” George suddenly said. “If you could move out the doorway, Lockwood, that would be great. Thanks. The kettle should be boiled soon, if you two wouldn’t mind?”

“Not at all, George,” Anthony replied, already taking mugs out of the cupboard. “Who’s toast is this? I think it’s burning.”

“Oh, shit, that’s mine! Fuck that’s hot!”

“Not hotter than me though, right?”

“Shut up, Anthony. My fingers are burning.” He reached over and took her hand in his, not caring for the piece of blackened toast that sat on her plate on the counter, and pressed a gentle kiss to each fingertip. She had flashbacks to the last time her hands had been near his mouth in a far less family-friendly setting, and tried to stop her knees from giving out.

“Better?”

“Um… I guess. Yeah.” If anything she was worse, since now her whole body was on fire at how sweet that one gesture was. He hadn’t even thought about it, since there was less than a second between her saying her hand hurt and him kissing the first fingertip, and that had her knees weakening all over again. She took a step towards him, threading her burning fingers with his and placing the other one on his chest to grab at his collar and pull him in for a kiss. He’d had a long night, she was sure of it, and the more-prominent-than-usual bags under his eyes were giving her a solid argument. The kiss was short and sweet, and when she pulled back he followed her for a moment before realising that it was over. He pouted, his eyes practically begging for her to kiss him again, and she let out a small laugh before obliging. That kiss was sweet too, but lasted a little longer, and the third one would have gone on for longer still had George not come back from the toilet and pretended to gag.

~~~

“Anthony?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you ever think about just… leaving for a bit? Not completely, I don’t think I could stay away from London forever, but just running off on holiday for a while. Getting a break from the ghost hunting and constant threat of death.”

“That’s… really? You want to ask that now? Darling, my mind is not in the right place for an actual conversation right now.” His hand trailed over her bare side and his eyes were looking at everything but her face, proving that he really wasn’t in the right mental place for a conversation like this, but she tried again anyway.

“Okay, but do you?” He sighed, reluctantly dragging his gaze up to meet hers.

“I suppose I’ve never really thought about it before.” He paused, shifting his weight to get comfortable. His legs knocked against hers and his hand hadn’t stopped tracing the skin of her body, and he had never taken off the ring he always wore. It had been a pleasant chill against her earlier when she thought she was going to combust from his touch. “I think because of the company I wouldn’t take a break. And I’d have a lot of guilt about leaving when there are people who might be in danger and I could have helped them.”

“But if you could drive away, would you? None of the guilt, or people getting hurt. Just… going off on your own for a bit.”

“I don’t know about alone. I think I would want you with me, darling.” He punctuated his statement by lowering his voice and pulling her closer by her hips, flush against his body, and although she was tired she couldn’t help but feel warm again.

“I’d be happy to drive away with you, Ant. Anywhere you go, I’m going too.”

“You mean it?” he breathed, eyes looking almost golden in the glow of his bedside lamp. He looked desperate for her answer, like he needed to know that she would truly always be with him because he couldn’t stand being left alone again.

“Of course I mean it, Ant. I want it all with you; everything. The complications and fights and of course all the good things too. The horrible Mondays where we get clients who don’t realise that what we do is a full-time job and we don’t really get weekends, the times we do get days off, and we can just be… together.” She ran her fingertips over his arms, marvelling at the hidden muscles she felt. Given how skinny and beanpole-like he appeared, the first time she had realised how toned he was she had been pleasantly surprised. It made sense, she supposed, since he was incredibly proficient with a rapier and had been from a young age, and being that good meant he had to at least be somewhat physically fit and capable (he was very physically capable in other ways, too, something else she had learned early on). She didn’t think she would ever get over how much she loved his arms, or his hands, or how they looked when he rolled his dress shirt sleeves up and folded his arms against his chest, and from the look he was giving her right now he apparently knew that she felt that way.

“You alright, darling?” Good lord, had his voice gone even lower? His eyes had gone from being a honey-golden to a dark syrupy brown, and if what she could feel against her lower half was any indication she could tell that his mind was back to being somewhere other than their conversation. She sounded out of breath when she spoke.

“I’m alright. Do me a favour?”

“Anything.”

“Wrap me in your arms?”

“Absolutely.”

She definitely shouldn’t have this much of an obsession with his arms, but the moment his arms tightened around her torso and her thigh, bringing her on top of him fully while he sat up with her in his lap and kissed her deeply, she couldn’t find it in her to care.

~~~

On their one-year anniversary, Y/n woke up early.

She didn’t want to, but the moon was shining brightly through the bedroom window, and there was a gap in the curtains that let the light through. It was landing on the books that had been stacked up on the bedside table, titles just about visible and all of them ones that she had read before. The moonlight was also resting on Anthony’s face while he slept, and he looked like he had in the taxi on that night when they had first met, ethereal and effortlessly gorgeous (but not quite so tired and weighed down by responsibility), and she found herself falling in love with him all over again.

It was probably all forms of creepy to just lie and watch him breathe while she tried to go back to sleep, but there was something oddly soothing about it: the rise and fall of his chest and the peaceful expression on his face. It was rare she got to see him so relaxed, the only other times were when he had a day off and was sat in the library with a cup of tea, Y/n sat nearby, or when they had spent time exploring each others’ bodies, hands roaming over skin and through hair while they made love.

The paper ring that he had made her just over a year ago, not long before they started officially dating, was sat on the bedside table next to the stack of books. He’d made her new ones at random points throughout their time together, but the original one that he’d folded from that piece of paper in the Fittes public library had remained in pride of place in her jewellery dish in their now shared bedroom at 35 Portland Row.

Looking at it now she was absolutely certain that he was the one that she wanted, taking him in marriage with a paper ring, putting their pictures in frames to decorate their home, and he was the one she wanted in all of her daydreams.

Anthony Lockwood was her future, and her future was looking wonderfully bright.

lockwood tag list: @anathemaloren, @anthonylockwoodandco111, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss (hopefully you get this notification, ik it's been weird recently), @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @informedimagining (hopefully this works for you too my lovely), @karensirkobabes, @locknco, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @novelizt, @ran23sblog, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @no-morning-glories, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife, @zoom1374, @light-23, @ahead-fullofdreams

and then I'm tagging @neewtmas, @oblivious-idiot, @bobbys-not-that-small, @maraschinomerry, @uku-lelevillain, and @lewkwoodnco because I've been promising you this for a while and you just didn't know it :D

if there is anybody who wants to be added to my lockwood tag list, then please go here! I am aware that it has been a while, but from now on I will be checking this post every time I write a new fic to see who is there, so head on over to give a comment or a like and I'll pop you on for next time! <3

#lockwood and co #lockwood & co #anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #lockwood x reader

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luvyeni · 1 year

Note

hii! most hair pulling toe curling dog barking jake smut pls <3 im really looking forward to the future of ur blog! 🫶🏻

GOOD GIRL; SIM JAEYUN

pairings: popular!jake x shytutor!reader

Wc. 713

warnings: fem reader, public sex, fingering, praise kink

this isn't toe curling, but jake sim himself is toe curling so...

Trying to tutor jake, but the boy has other things on his mind.

—

You didn't even want to be here, you didn't want to tutor jake sim, but due to your shy nature you couldn't even tell the professor that you didn't want to do it.

Jake sim was the most sought after boy at the university — rich, handsome, smart and athletic... Girls wanted to be with him, and guys wanted to be him (some of them wanting to be with him too).

"I'm done." You began to pack up your things, you weren't just gonna sit and wait. "Wait don't leave." You watched as jake ran up to you breathless. "I'm here."

"2 hours later." Basically mumbling to yourself, you were too nervous to even look him in the eye.

Jake took a notice of your timid state, smirking.. you were cute.

"Maybe we can reschedule for next week." You stood up, but he was blocking your way. "Excuse me." You said, eyes glued to the floor.

"Please, I need you." You finally looked up, staring into his eyes... those goddamn eyes. Sighing, you sat down, pulling everything back out.

"Sit."

He sat down... with absolutley nothing in his hands. "Where are your books?" He curses under his breath. "I left them in my buddies car, can we share yours?" He leaned in real close to your face. "o-oh um.. s-sure." You slid the book in between you two.

You fanned your cheeks that began to heat up—jake notices this, smirking... he couldn't help it, he wanted to ruin you.

You knew it was a bad idea, he did absolutely nothing... he just sat there, staring at you, occasionally throwing you a wink when you'd turn to instruct his face back into the book.

"Let's take a break." He sat back in his chair. "It has only been a hour." You looked through the book. "And you've barely done anything."

He didn't get upset at what you said, because he hadn't been listening to a word of what you had been saying, he'd actually be staring at your legs, watching your skirt ride up due to you constantly moving.

"Why are you so shy?" He questioned, eyebrow lifting. "I-i'm not."

"You are, you can barely look at me, it's cute." Was he making fun of you? "I-i can."

"Okay princess, look at me." you can feel his breath on your face, as you slowly twist your head in his direction. "Good girl."

That sent a shiver down your spine, not going on by the boy. "You like that?" He smirked, getting even closer, knee to knee.

"W-what a-are you talking about? pay attention to the book." You stared at the book, trying to ignore the wetness in your underwear.

"Answer my question." His hand slowly making it's way up to where you so desperately wanted him. "Come be a good girl and answer."

You bite your lip to contain your moans. "J-jake." you breathing began to stagger.

"Say it." His hand was now at your heat, rubbing your clit through your panties.

"You're dripping princess, all you have to do is say it and i'll give you what you want."

"I-i d-do, i like being called that." you said quietly, he smiled, pulling your panties to the side.

"Jake" you moaned out as he slid one finger inside your pussy, but he shushed you. "We're in the library, you have to be quite, can you do that for me? hm, can you be a good girl for me?"

You nodded, and he added another finger speeding up his movements. "Fucking hell, you're so wet, you're gonna cum already?, cum for me." you began to shake in his hold as you came on his fingers.

"Be a good girl and cum for me."

"You look so pretty like this." He slowly pulled his fingers out of you slowly, staring you directly into your eyes, putting them into his mouth. "Soooo fucking good."

"Jake."

The whimper you let out made jake's cock twitch in his slacks.

"Princess, let's go." He grabbed your bag, stuffing all the stuff in there. "G-go w-where?" you grabbed his hand, stopping his movements. "To my house."

"I can't just let you go like this, i need to fuck you before I lose my mind."

#enhypen suggestive #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #jake smut #jake sim smut #kpop x reader #kpop smut #enhypen x reader #enhypen reactions #enhypen headcanons

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nofomogirl · 4 months

Text

Good Omen's problem with having two canons

They're fundamentally different. That's the problem. That's my point.

For quite a while I focused almost exclusively on the new season of Good Omens, but now I am slowly delving into analysis that takes the entire show into account, and I've encountered a little obstacle. Namely, things from S1 can be really tricky to interpret.

Fair warning: this post is going to zig-zag between various points but I want you to trust me and take this scenic route with me. It will take us somewhere eventually, I promise.

The Arrangement

It's one of the core elements in the Good Omens universe and at the same time a perfect example of the issue I want to discuss. So let's have a closer look together.

In the book, the Arrangement is presented to us in two passages:

the first one, where it is first - very briefly - mentioned:

and the second one, where it is properly introduced and explained:

The Arrangement was very simple, so simple in fact, that it didn't really deserve the capital letter, which it had got for simply being in existence for so long. It was the sort of sensible arrangement that many isolated agents, working in awkward conditions a long way from their superiors, reach with their opposite number when they realize they have more in common with their immediate opponents than their remote allies. It meant a tacit non-interference in certain of each other's activities. It made certain that while neither really won, also neither really lost, and both were able to demonstrate to their masters the great strides they were making against a cunning and well-informed adversary. (...) And then, of course, it had seemed even natural that they should, as it were, hold the fort for one another whenever common sense dictated. Both were of angel stock, after all. If one was going to Hull for a quick temptation, it made sense to nip across the city and carry out a standard brief moment of divine ecstasy. It'd get done anyway, and being sensible about it gave everyone more free time and cut down on expenses.

In the show, the Arrangement is presented to us in two original scenes in the cold opening of S1E3:

(I am quoting most relevant dialogues only)

537 AD, Wessex:

C: So we're both working very hard in damp places and just canceling each other out? A: Well, you could put it like that. It is a bit damp. C: Be easier if we both stayed home. If we just send messages back to our head offices saying we'd done everything they'd asked for, wouldn't it? A: But that would be lying. C: Eh, possibly, but the end result would be the same. Cancel each other out. A: But my dear fellow... well, they'd check. Michael's a bit of a stickler. You don't want to get Gabriel upset with you. C: Oh, our lot have better things to do than verifying compliance reports from Earth. As long as they get paperwork they seem happy enough. As long as you're being seen doing something every now and again. A: No! Absolutely not! I am shocked that you would even imply such a thing. We're not having that conversation, not another word!

1601 AD, The Globe Theatre:

A: I have to be in Edinburgh at the end of the week. A couple of blessings to do. A minor miracle to perform. (...) C: I'm meant to be heading to Edinburgh too this week. Tempting a clan leader to steal some cattle. A: Doesn't sound like hard work. C: That's why I thought we should... Well, bit of a waste of effort, both of us going all the way to Scotland. A: You cannot actually be suggesting what I infer that you are implying. C: Which is? A: That just one of us goes to Edingburgh, does both. The blessing and the tempting. C: We've done it before. Dozens of times now. The Arrangement- A: Don't say that! C: Our respective offices don't actually care how things get done. They just want to know they can cross it off the list.

S2 doesn't actually reference the Arrangement. But it does reuse the dialogue about free will where the 1020 date is dropped. We will get back to it.

The challenge of adapting Good Omens

Good Omens shares a certain characteristic with all of Terry Pratchett's solo books I've read - it couldn't care less about "showing instead of telling". Which I love, just to be clear. A book is a written medium. It's made with words and one of words' major strengths is that you can use them to just tell things point blanc.

Good Omens does it a lot and it's fantastic.

Look at that second passage from the book I quoted earlier.

From just those few sentences we learn a lot about the relationships between:

Heaven and Hell (opponents and competition)

Aziraphale and Crowley (two individuals in the same position and in direct contact with each other)

Aziraphale/Crowley and Heaven/Hell (field agent and a remote HQ that are not in direct contact)

Aziraphale/Crowley and Earth (two individuals and a space they live in)

Heaven/Hell and Earth (a board where the game is played, only winning or losing matters, what actually happens on a board does not)

It's really an extra condensed worldbuilding gem sprinkled with humor, so it's no surprise it's become one of the most iconic passages from the book.

I mean, just browse through some interviews with David and Michael - especially the ones from 2019 - where they explain what Aziraphale and Crowley are about. You'll be hard-pressed to find any where they don't reference that specific paragraph, consciously or otherwise.

But it's only this neat on the pages of the book, where narration like this takes mere seconds to absorb. It's impossible to convey the same information in a visual medium with anywhere near the same efficiency.

The fact that the majority of Good Omens is like this was, in my opinion, a main challenge the adaptation faced. The book is very narration-heavy. It's full of fun facts about characters, side jokes, hilarious comments, etc. Some of that precious material was salvaged by introducing God as a narrator, but there was only so much of it you could squeeze into a TV show. The rest had to either be fit into dialogues or lost in translation from the written medium to the visual one.

Obviously, in the case of the Arrangement, it was the dialogues.

Book canon and show canon

We all know they're not the same. Neil Gaiman also pointed it out several times. But I think our mistake is that we still tend to think about them as complementary.

Look at the Arrangement again. The show canon seems to merely expand on the book canon. Add extra details and fill in the blanks. The Arrangement works the exact same way, except now we also know more about how it started.

If we compile what we know from the book with what we know from the show, we get a more detailed timeline:

Crowley first proposes the Arrangement in 537 (show).

The Arrangement starts in 1020 (book), ie. Aziraphale finally agrees to it (show - deduction); we don't know for sure if it's a "basic version" (not getting in each other's way), or a "full version" (doing each other's jobs) but we can assume it's the former.

In 1601 "full version" of the Arrangement is in place for some time (they've done it dozens of times) but Aziraphale still objects and needs convincing.

But read that description from a book once more.

Does it really fit into the version of events shown in the TV series?

The Arrangement in the book is something that just happened. A natural, and in a way inevitable result of Aziraphale and Crowley's circumstances. We are never told who came up with it first because it doesn't matter. Because it could have been either of them. Because after five millennia on Earth, they were both ready to do it. They were both of the same mind. For all we know it might have been an unspoken agreement all along!

But for the show, the creators had to come up with a good reason for the Arrangement to be discussed out loud. And what could be a more natural situation for someone to describe and explain an idea than trying to sell that idea to someone else?

For that practical reason - among many others, no doubt - the Arrangement is not only explicitly Crowley's idea, but an idea Aziraphale vehemently rejects at first. He needs to be convinced and even when he finally relents he's never entirely comfortable with it. He keeps objecting and it requires Crowley's constant effort for them to keep cooperating in any way.

The fact that Aziraphale is reluctant gives Crowley a perfect reason to keep convincing him ie. talk about the Arrangement. But the fact that he needs to explain and keep convincing Aziraphale means that Aziraphale is no longer a person who understands the same things and feels the same way.

That is a huge change.

Of course, you may say that what I've written about the Arrangement in the book is just my interpretation. It's true that technically there's nothing there that would contradict the events from the show in any way. The thing is, the events in the show aren't very compatible with the overall characterization of the ineffable duo in the book.

Evolution of Aziraphale and Crowley

You might have read that our leading pair was originally conceived as a single character that Neil and Terry eventually decided to split into two separate individuals.

My reaction when I first learned about it was: "Of course they were! That makes so much sense!" Because honestly, as a person who watched the show first and then read the book, I was surprised at how few differences there were between the two in the original text. If you squint your eyes really tight, you can see how book!Aziraphale and book!Crowley are two versions of the same character. They're far more similar than their show versions.

Most importantly, their attitudes toward Heaven and Hell are pretty much identical. Perfectly mirrored in every regard. What Hell is for Crowley, Heaven is for Aziraphale. What Hell is for Aziraphale, Heaven is for Crowley. In. Every. Possible. Way.

Allow me to present some evidence from the book.

Exhibit #1: the end of the scene where Crowley convinces Aziraphale to interfere with Warlock's upbringing

'You're saying the child isn't evil of itself?' he said slowly. 'Potentially evil. Potentially good too, I suppose. Just this huge powerful potentiality, waiting to be shaped,' said Crowley. He shrugged. 'Anyway, why're we talking about this good and evil? They're just names for sides. We know that.' 'I suppose it's got to be worth a try,' said the angel. Crowley nodded encouragingly. 'Agreed?' said the demon, holding out his hand. The angel shook it, cautiously. 'It'll certainly be more interesting than saints,' he said. 'And it'll be for the child's own good, in the long run,' said Crowley. (...)

When Crowley first points out that good and evil are just names for sides, and then insists it's something they both know, Aziraphale doesn't react in any way. That's because these aren't things that book!Aziraphale disagrees with. He does indeed know it and doesn't deny it.

Also, please note just how cynical the angel is here with his comment that influencing the Antichrist would be a more interesting project than influencing saints!

Both would be rather OOC for show!Aziraphale.

Exhibit #2: the scene just after Warlock Dowling's birthday party, when it becomes evident he is not the Antichrist

'You said it was him!' moaned Aziraphale (...) 'It was him,' said Crowley. (...) 'Then someone else must be interfering.' 'There isn't anyone else! There's just us, right? Good and Evil. One side or the other.' He thumped the steering wheel. 'You'll be amazed at the kind of things they can do to you, down there,' he said. 'I imagine they're very similar to the sort of things they can do to you up there,' said Aziraphale. 'Come off it. Your lot get ineffable mercy,' said Crowley sourly. 'Yes? Did you ever visit Gomorrah?' 'Sure' said the demon. 'There was this great little tavern where you could get these terrific fermented date-palm cocktails with nutmeg and crushed lemongrass-' 'I meant afterwards.' 'Oh.'

Can you imagine this kind of exchange in the TV series? Can you imagine show!Aziraphale being this realistic about Heaven, and show!Crowley so naive about it? There's no way.

Show!Aziraphale genuinely believes that Heaven is good at its core.

Book!Aziraphale knows Heaven isn't any different than Hell and would punish him just as ruthlessly and unfairly as Hell would Crowley.

Show!Crowley understands both Heaven and Hell on a very deep level and is highly aware of their true nature.

Book!Crowley buys a piece of celestial propaganda about ineffable mercy and actually expects Heaven to be forgiving.

Let the magnitude of that difference sink.

Exhibit #3: same scene, a bit further

'So all we've got to do is find it,' said Crowley. 'Go through the hospital records.' The Bentley's engine coughed into life and the car leapt forward, forcing Aziraphale back into the seat. 'And then what?' he said. 'And then we find the child.' 'And then what?' The angel shut his eyes as the car crabbed around the corner. 'Don't know.' 'Good grief.' 'I suppose (...) your people wouldn't consider (...) giving me asylum?' 'I was going to ask you the same thing. (...)'

This is just a cherry on top, really.

Yes, in the book, when things go pear-shaped, both Aziraphale and Crowley consider seeking asylum on the opposite side.

Do you need more proof that book canon and show canon really aren't as compatible as they may seem?

Free will

As promised, let's get back to that dialogue because while it may not be obvious at first glance it really illustrates perfectly the problem arising from balancing between two canons.

Here is the full quote from the book:

Aziraphale had tried to explain [free will] to him once. The whole point, he'd said - this was somewhere around 1020, when they'd first reached their little Arrangement - the whole point was that when a human was good or bad it was because they wanted to be. Whereas people like Crowley and, of course, himself, were set in their ways right from the start. People couldn't become truly holy, he said, unless they also had the opportunity to be definitively wicked. Crowley had thought about it for some time and, around about 1023, had said, Hang on, that only works, right, if you start everyone off equal, OK? You can't start someone off in a muddy shack in the middle of a war zone and expect them to do as well as someone born in a castle. Ah, Aziraphale had said, that's the good bit. The lower you start, the more opportunities you have. Crowley had said, That's lunatic. No, said Aziraphale, it's ineffable.

And here, for comparison, is how it was reused in S2E3:

A: There is a stolen body in that barrel! This is wicked! C: Oh, I'm down with wicked! Anyway, is it wicked? She needed the money. A: That is irrelevant. Look, I am good. You, I'm afraid, are evil. But people get a choice. You know, they cannot be truly holy unless they also get the opportunity to be wicked. She is wicked. C: Yeah, that only works if you start everyone off equal. You can't start someone off like that and expect her to do as well as someone born in a castle. A: Ah, but no, no. That's the good bit. The lower you start, the more opportunities you have. So Elspeth here has all the opportunities because she's so poor. C: That's lunacy. A: No, that's ineffable.

I'll be honest with you - I didn't like that scene in the show. It felt jarring and off. Aziraphale was acting like it was his first day on Earth and it was frustrating to watch.

Then, on one of the rewatches, just as I was rolling my eyes at "that's ineffable", a bulb lit in my brain. That line didn't work there because it wasn't created to be there! In the book and in S1 "it's ineffable" was kind of Aziraphale's catchphrase but in S2 it only appears this once. More importantly, in the book and S1, the fact that the angel would say that was all a build-up to the scene when he threw it in Heaven's face at the Tadfield Airbase. Using that word in S2 was like trying to make a running joke that has already reached its destination run again.

And just like that one line the entire dialogue didn't fit because it wasn't meant to be there. It was created for an entirely different context.

What's the difference?

Firstly, book!husbands' conviction was very shallow and it wasn't uncommon for both of them to spout slogans without meaning them. Therefore, book!Aziraphale's words didn't carry that much weight. The very fact that the conversation took place at the same time they formed the Arrangement tells us something about how serious he was. But show!Aziraphale's relationship with his beliefs is different, so when he says things like that it's a much bigger deal.

Secondly, the book explicitly states that Aziraphale and Crowley only developed free will on Earth, due to extended exposure to mankind. The show never really makes a stand on the matter but based on what we've seen so far I think we can safely assume that angels and demons are capable of making their own choices as much as humans do.

In other words, in its original context, the conversation was just Aziraphale talking about a concept he didn't fully grasp, quoting propaganda he didn't fully subscribe to. He was being ignorant and mildly obnoxious in an endearing way.

But using the same dialogue verbatim in the Resurrectionist carried a completely different meaning. Aziraphale who utters it in the show has no reason to be so ignorant about free will. Aziraphale who utters it in the show genuinely tries to defend Heaven. Most importantly, Aziraphale who utters it in the show, doesn't just idly bicker with his friend about general things but is judging an actual human individual that's right in front of them. That, more than anything else, makes it sound heartless and ignorant.

What is the problem with having two canons, exactly?

It's time to wrap things up.

In the opening paragraphs, I've mentioned that I've noticed the issue while interpreting scenes from S1, and yes, that was the case and I do believe that the existence of two canons is especially problematic for S1. That's because pretty much every scene in S1 is potentially like that dialogue about free will in S2, except subtler and harder to spot.

A grand majority of what we see and hear in S1 comes directly from the book. But while words and actions were kept, in some instances things that gave them their original meaning might no longer be valid in the show universe. Sometimes they easily take new meaning, and we don't even notice. But sometimes there's this dissonance that's not as easy to work around.

S1 deviated from the book and created its own canon. But the difference didn't seem to go very deep and it seemed perfectly reasonable to use some trivia from the book to shed some extra light on the content of the show. I used to do it in my head, even though I was aware of the changes that were made.

But S2 expanded the show canon so far beyond what was in the book that I'm really not sure it makes sense to compile them anymore.

There are a lot of things that were only explicitly stated in the book that I keep clinging to. But perhaps it's time to let go...

Thank you for your patience.

I know all of the above isn't exactly a revolutionary discovery, but I needed to get it off my chest before writing anything else.

#good omens #good omens 2 #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #good omens the book #differences between book and show #very long post #things I needed to get off my chest

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estapa-edwards · 25 days

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THAT WAY -- ETHAN EDWARDS x fem! READER

paring : ethan edwards x fem! reader

word count: 2078

requested? yes; Can you do a request for Ethan Edwards in which he meets the reader in a class which makes them friends and then everyone thinks they are together and they’re secretly both liking each other as more than friends as well?

warnings: use of y/n

As I stepped into the sports management classroom for the first time, I felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. The room was filled with eager students, all chatting and getting settled in their seats. I found an empty chair near the back and took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves.

The professor, a tall man with glasses, began introducing himself and outlining the course syllabus. I listened intently, taking notes and trying to absorb as much information as possible. As the class progressed, I couldn't help but notice a guy sitting a few rows ahead of me. He had a confident demeanor and seemed to be engaged in the discussion, raising thoughtful questions and participating actively.

After the class ended, I gathered my belongings and made my way towards the exit. As I was walking out, I accidentally bumped into the same guy I had noticed earlier - Ethan Edwards.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" I exclaimed, feeling embarrassed.

Ethan looked up and smiled, "No worries! It's a crowded class, and it's easy to bump into someone."

I smiled back, relieved by his friendly response. "I'm new here," I admitted. "Trying to find my way around and get to know people."

Ethan extended his hand, "I'm Ethan. It's nice to meet you."

"I'm y/n," I replied, shaking his hand.

"I'm running late to hockey practice, but it was nice talking to you, y/n," Ethan said, checking his watch.

"Yeah, you too, Ethan," I replied, smiling as I began to walk away.

"Wait," Ethan called out, causing me to turn back and face him. "Can I get your number?" He had a genuine smile on his face, which made my heart skip a beat.

"Of course," I said, feeling a rush of excitement.

A few months had passed since that conversation with Ethan, and I had since landed an internship as the media girl for the Umich socials. This new role brought Ethan and me even closer, as I got to spend more time with him and the hockey team, covering their practices and games. We studied together almost everyday.

I was sitting at a table in the library, textbooks and notes spread out in front of me as I focused on my studies. Ethan was sitting across from me, also engrossed in his own work.

"Hey, y/n," Ethan said, glancing up from his book. "Do you understand this chapter? I'm having a hard time with it."

I looked up and smiled at him. "Yeah, it's a bit confusing, but I think I've got the hang of it. Want me to help you out?"

Ethan nodded gratefully, pushing his book towards me. "That would be great, thanks."

As Ethan and I delved into the study material, I noticed Mark and Rutger walking past our table, their eyes lingering on us as they exchanged amused glances.

Mark leaned in towards Rutger, whispering something that made Rutger chuckle, both of them clearly finding something funny about Ethan and me studying together.

Trying to ignore their teasing, I focused on explaining the chapter to Ethan. "So, basically, the key concept here is..."

Before I could finish my explanation, Mark and Rutger stopped at our table, their grins widening as they decided to join in on the fun.

"Wow, look at you two, hitting the books together. How romantic," Mark commented, feigning a swoon as he dramatically placed a hand over his heart.

Rutger nodded in agreement, smirking at Ethan and me. "Yes, it's a true love story for the ages. Study partners today, soulmates tomorrow," he added, laughing.

Ethan rolled his eyes at their playful teasing but couldn't hide his smile. "Come on, guys, we're just trying to get some work done," he said, trying to steer the conversation back to our studies.

I chuckled at Ethan's response, feeling a bit flustered by Mark and Rutgers jokes but also amused by their playful antics. "Ignore them, Ethan. Let's get back to the chapter," I said, trying to regain our focus. Mark and Rutger laugh and start walking away

Ethan rolled his eyes and called out after them, "How many times do we have to tell you we aren't dating?"

I felt a twinge of annoyance at Ethan's response, though I wasn't sure why. His casual dismissal of the situation and the assumption behind Mark and Rutgers teasing seemed to strike a nerve. I took a deep breath, trying to shake off the feeling.

"Ethan, maybe they wouldn't tease us so much if you didn't play into it," I said, my tone sharper than I intended.

Ethan looked taken aback by my comment, his playful demeanor fading as he realized he might have upset me. "Sorry, y/n..."

I cut him off, "Let's just get back to studying, Ethan," I said, my tone a bit firmer than before.

Later that night, I found myself lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. The events of the day replayed in my mind, but my thoughts kept drifting back to Ethan. The way he smiled, the sound of his voice, and the ease with which we spent time together had been on my mind constantly. 'Does he even think of me that way?' I wondered, my mind thinking back to the time he held my hand a little longer than necessary or when he would touch my thigh when we sat next to each other.

Sitting side by side on Ethan's couch, we were engrossed in watching a movie together. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow from the TV casting a warm ambiance. As the film's tension built, Ethan's hand rested close to mine on the cushion between us.

Suddenly, during a particularly intense scene, I felt Ethan's hand shift slightly, his fingers grazing my thigh. The touch was subtle but deliberate, sending a jolt of excitement through me. My heart raced as I glanced over at him, wondering if he had meant to make such a bold move. Ethan's eyes met mine briefly, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, before returning his attention to the movie.

I jolted up and said, "Oh god, I think I like Ethan."

After their practice one day, it was time to ask the 'Monday Question'. I set up the camera, adjusting the angle and checking the lighting, and waited patiently until the players started coming up the stairs. Rutger was the first one up.

"Alright Rut, who on the team would you not let date your daughter?" I asked, getting straight to the point.

Rutger chuckled, glancing towards Ethan who was waiting his turn to be interviewed. "I would have to say Ethan, since you guys are dating," he laughed, sending a playful wink towards Ethan as he walked away.

Ethan and I both rolled our eyes at Rutgers' comment. "Rutger, we aren't dating, come back and give an actual answer," I called out.

Rutger laughed, turning back towards the camera. "Alright, alright, I'd probably say Mark. He's a bit of a wild card and I wouldn't want my hypothetical daughter getting caught up in his antics."

"Good choice," I replied, nodding in agreement.

Luca was next in line for his interview. As he approached, he grinned mischievously, clearly enjoying the opportunity to continue the teasing.

"Alright, Ethan, I've got to ask," Luca began, looking directly into the camera. "Are you and y/n actually dating, or is it all just a rumor?"

I glanced at Ethan, curious to see how he would respond to the direct question. Ethan looked at me, his eyes softening with sincerity before turning back to the camera.

"We are just friends, that's all we'll ever be," Ethan replied, his voice steady but his eyes briefly meeting mine. I felt my heart ping, a mixture of disappointment and understanding washing over me.

The atmosphere among the players shifted slightly, sensing the underlying tension between Ethan and me.

"Alright, thanks Ethan," I said

Ethan nodded, offering me a small, reassuring smile as he stepped away from the camera. "Anytime," he said softly, his eyes lingering on mine for a moment longer than necessary before he turned to join the rest of his teammates. I finished the rest of the video, but couldn't help thinking about what Ethan said.

Ethan's POV:

A wave of guilt washed over me. Mark and Rutgers teasing had planted a seed of doubt in my mind, and my attempts to downplay our relationship had been misleading. The truth was, I genuinely liked y/n, more than I had initially realized.

Ethan and y/n sat on the floor of his room, surrounded by textbooks, notes, and laptops. They had been studying for hours, the soft hum of background music filling the room. The atmosphere was comfortable, and both were engrossed in their work.

Ethan glanced over at y/n, watching her as she focused intently on her laptop screen, her brows furrowed in concentration. He was struck by how effortlessly beautiful she looked, even in this simple setting.

He found himself captivated by the way her eyes would occasionally light up with understanding or how she would bite her lip when deep in thought. The way she laughed at his silly jokes or how she would playfully roll her eyes at his occasional teasing comments made his heart flutter.

As they took a short break, Ethan decided to play one of his favorite songs. The soft melody filled the room, adding a touch of romance to the atmosphere.

Ethan turned to y/n, their eyes meeting. In that moment, a wave of realization washed over him. He wasn't just enjoying her company as a friend; he was falling for her. Her laughter, her smile, her intelligence – everything about her was drawing him in, making him want to know more about her, to be with her.

Later that evening, Ethan found me as I was packing up my equipment. "Hey, y/n," he said, his voice gentle. "I hope I didn't make things awkward earlier. I just thought it would be best to clarify things for the team."

I looked up at him, searching his eyes for sincerity. "It's okay, Ethan," I replied, forcing a smile. "I understand."

Ethan sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, y/n, it's not that I don't have feelings for you..."

"Ethan, it's okay. We don't have to discuss this," I said, my tone coming out ruder than I intended. I turned my body away from him.

He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before speaking again. "You know, y/n, there are so many things I admire and love about you. Your passion for what you do, your kindness towards others, and the way you always know how to make me smile even on my worst days." I braced myself before turning back around.

His eyes softened as he continued, "I love how you're always there for me, no matter what, and how you always know just what to say to lift my spirits. Your laughter is infectious, and your strength inspires me every day."

Ethan paused, a slight blush coloring his cheeks. . "And let's not forget your incredible talent and dedication. Y/n, I love you, and I can't risk losing you," he admitted, his voice filled with emotion and vulnerability.

I felt my heart skip a beat at his confession, my own feelings for him echoing his sentiments. "Ethan," I whispered, my voice choked with emotion. "I love you too."

Ethan's eyes widened slightly, his gaze searching mine for confirmation. "Really?" he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief and hope.

I nodded, a tear slipping down my cheek. "Yes, Ethan, I really do," I said softly, my heart swelling with love and relief.

A radiant smile broke across Ethan's face, and he pulled me into a tight embrace, holding me close as if afraid I might disappear. "I'm so relieved to hear you say that, y/n," he murmured against my hair, his voice thick with emotion.

Feeling reassured and grateful, I leaned in to press a gentle kiss on Ethan's lips, sealing our promises to each other. "I love you, Ethan," I whispered against his lips, feeling his arms tighten around me in response.

"I love you too, y/n," Ethan whispered back, his voice filled with warmth and affection.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE REQUEST!

i might make a part 2 as a social media au!

#Spotify #ethan edwards #ethan edwards x y/n #ethan edwards x reader #umich hockey #hockey

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positively-mine · 4 months

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Come back to me

your return from styx gives Ace the final push he needed

tags: gn!reader, established crush on reader, spoilers: book 6, ch 82 and touchy ace

A/n: stayed true to my word this time 🫡 how ace responds to mc and grim returning tickled something in me so I needed to write a long post abt it :)

lmk if there's any mistakes!

"y/n! Griiim!" The Adeuce duo speeding down the field to where everyone's standing.

"Heya Ace! Deuce!" Grim responds happily from your arms.

You too acknowledge their arrival, "Hey guys, we're back!"

"DON'T "HEY GUYS" ME, YOU ABSOLUTE BLOCKHEAD." Ace screamed while barreling towards you.

He showed no sign of stopping and collided into you. Both you and Ace tumbled onto the field, and Grim flying out of your hands and onto the field beside you. Ace ended up straddling you, with his hands placed at the back of your head and back to prevent you from getting hurt.

Opening your mouth, ready to scold him when he bonks you and Grim hard on your heads.

"OW! Why'd you smack me too?!" Grim yelps beside you.

You clutched your head as well, groaning in pain.

"Shaddup! Be grateful I'm lettin you off easy!" He gets up, and takes your hands to pull you up as well.

Despite Ace's rather harsh treatment, there was concern in his eyes.

"Huh?!" Grim pipes up from beside you.

Deuce walks up to you and gives you a one over before he begins talking, "When we woke up, everyone was freaking out about you, Rook and Epel being gone."

Mumbling, Ace added on, "We figured you were with them..."

"But all anyone told us was that your phones were off, and that the teacher's tracking spells couldn't find you!"

"Well I couldn't sit here and do nothing..," you try to defend yourself.

Deuce looked exasperated and Ace...looked like he was about to start shouting at you again.

***

After everyone had made their appearance and reunited, although there was lots of shouting here and there, everyone made their way back to their dorms.

Ace didn't follow the heartslabyul group. Instead, he followed behind you and grim.

The trek back to Ramshackle was spent in silence from both you and Ace, minus the ranting that came from Grim.

Ace reached out and grabbed onto your wrist gently, effectively stopping you from taking another step.

"Grim, go ahead first. I needa talk to y/n about something first."

"Hagh? But whos going to open my can of tunas?" He piped up angrily beside you.

"Sheesh seriously," Ace ruffled his hair aggressively. "I'll give you 3 cans of tuna if you leave right now!"

"Deal!"

Grim ran up the path and into your dorm.

You turn back to face him.

During the time you were gone, Ace couldn't sit still for even a second. The fear of not knowing where you were and how you were doing was eating him alive.

He wished you had told him or left even some form of explanation as to where you went. He was worried sick.

Tightening his hold on your wrist, he moved to face you directly.

"y/n, do you like me?"

You're taken aback by his straight forwardness. Not wanting to jump to conclusions, you chose the safest option.

"Of course I do. If not, I wouldn't have tolerated you this long." You tease him to ease the tension that's building up.

"You know that's not what I mean." His stare bore into your soul.

Intertwining your fingers together, he looks back up to you and says the words that you've been wishing to hear.

"y/n, I like you. I hate the feeling of not being able to help you, console you in your darkest times and love you." A blush spreads across his cheeks. "So please, don't torture me anymore..." His voice trails off and you can't resist the looks he's giving you.

Just like before, he's pulling you in with his charm. His eyes reflecting the desperation and anxiousness of your answer.

Pulling his other hand to intertwine with yours, you move closer and give a peck to his cheek.

"You know I can't say no to you."

Giving you the biggest smile ever, he pushes his lips to yours. His hands circling around you to pull you as close as he can to his body.

#ace trapolla x reader #ace x reader #heartslabyul x reader #twst x reader #ace trappola #ace x you #ace x y/n #ace trapolla x yuu #twst x you #twst x yuu #twst x y/n #x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland #disney twst

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girls-alias · 4 months

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Diner - Dean Winchester

Title: Diner - Dean Winchester Words: 1,622 Relations: Dean Winchester X reader. TW:

Prompt:

Dean watching you work at your diner and he smiles every time you look at him.

I adjusted my hair in the mirror as my hair sat beneath my work cap. I smiled at my reflection before leaving the work bathroom. I work in a diner that was famous years ago for something mediocre but folks around here are sentimental and think that makes us famous forever. We're quite a big diner but it's all about the atmosphere and we have an abundance of that. Everyone is pleasant and good to work with, no one argues, and no one sexually harasses you but the best part about working at Dino's Diner is all the different people you meet going about their travels.

Today seemed like any other day. I walked through the kitchen with a bright smile on my face. "Hey, guys," I called through to the kitchen staff who greeted me before continuing their conversation. I walked to the main computer and clocked in before tying my apron and greeting the manager.

"You know the drill. You're on the left side," He informed me with a smile making me laugh. It's all routine. The same thing every day but I like the repetition. It's predictable. The day was going by, as usual, greeting, seating, serving and parting but the day was soon changed when my fellow waitress, Trish, approached me behind the bar with a wide smile.

"What you smiling about?" I asked suspiciously looking her over.

"You've caught someone's attention," She commented with a smirk. My eyebrows knitted together in confusion, she chuckled as she gestured with her eyes over her tables. I gave them a glance over to see that I made eye contact with an extremely attractive man. He had a pen to his lips and instantly smiled. I smiled back to be polite and played it cool. Not that I was very good at that. I looked to Trish who smirked and pretended to do work while she stood beside me. "I've been trying to get his attention for hours and you walk in and have it in seconds." She commented making me roll my eyes. "You're hot and ignore it, why?" She added making me laugh.

"You only say that because you know me." I chuckled. Everyone always says I am a funny and reliable friend. I would drop anything for someone I love.

"Well, that guy doesn't seem to think so," She mocked making me laugh. I shook my head and walked away. I kept myself busy by working but found myself wondering about the guy. I kept checking over. Sometimes he was copying something from a book, other times he was watching me but every time my eyes met his he did the most amazing smile. A smile I knew I wanted. I began thinking of who he might be. Copying from a book suggested a student but he didn't look like one. I stood behind the bar sorting out some cutlery pots when Trish hurried towards me.

"I really need the bathroom can you take the bill to table 13?" She asked in a hurry practically just running past me. I didn't even have time to agree before she disappeared through the staff doors. I laughed and grabbed the bill for 13. The table was just behind the attractive man's table so went around him hoping to get a closer look. Yep, definitely the most handsome man I've ever seen. Table 13 gave me their payment and I waved them out of the door. As I was about to walk back to the bar I saw the man looking around, probably looking for me. I smiled. He doesn't know I'm behind him.

"Looking for something?" I asked walking into his line of sight. He didn't seem to get a fright but looked up at me with a wide smile.

"Yeah, I'm looking for the courage to ask for your number," He replied, pretty smoothly I might add. I thought about it. I know for a fact he's going to leave here with it but better play a little hard to get. He has the kind of eyes that could get me naked in seconds but he's not allowed to know that. Well, not yet.

"Hundreds of men come in here a day and some ask that same question, why should I say yes to you?" I asked with a smile.

"Because I'm adorable," He commented pulling a face like I was blind making me laugh.

"But if you know you're adorable then how do I know you're not the sleeping around kind of guy?" I asked with a soft smile. His smile grew at the challenge.

"I guess you'll just have to take a chance," He replied softly. I smiled at his answer.

"I'm Y/N" I added putting my hand out for him to shake.

"Dean," He shook my hand and smirked. I couldn't help but smile. I got my order pad out and wrote down my number and showed it to him. He went to grab it but I smirked as I pulled it away.

"You have to earn it," I shrugged as I placed the paper in my back pocket and walked away with a smirk. Admittedly shaking my hips slightly as I walked and continued to work. Trish was just leaving the staff room when I made it to the bar. We exchanged a smile.

"Table 13's tip," I explained as I handed her the change and walked away. I finished up sorting out the cutlery pots and found that Dean hadn't stopped smiling but whenever we made eye contact he smiled a kind of goofy and teeth-baring smile like he couldn't hold it back. I couldn't help but do the same. I tried not to make eye contact with him and as the night progressed I was getting better at stealing glances without him noticing.

"See you later, Y/N," Trish called with her coat and bag on. Dean and Carl, A regular trucker, were the only ones left inside.

"Oh, you finished?" I asked but it was obvious. I could feel Dean's eyes on me.

"Yeah, Management's letting me go home early, you can hold the fort for half an hour?" She questioned making me smile.

"Yeah, no problem. Have a good night, have some wine for me," I commented making her laugh.

"I sure will, and talk to that guy," She replied making me laugh. "Night," She called back as she began to exit making sure to suggestively say goodbye to Dean. Dean's eyes never left mine as she walked by, Trish was disappointed so once she was behind him she pretended to have a tantrum making me laugh. Dean was curious as to what I was laughing at and so turned around. Trish stopped but he had caught her, she chuckled nervously before leaving making me laugh harder. I tried covering my laughter but struggled and it took a while for me to compose myself. I finished cleaning up all the tables before realising I had no other work to do so walked over and took a seat in front of Dean. He instantly put his pen down and gave me his full attention.

"So, you've officially been here for 7 hours, I think it's a record," I commented making him chuckle.

"What can I say? I like the atmosphere, the people, the view and the coffee," He replied making me laugh.

"What are you writing?" I asked looking over the books in front of him.

"A book... about monsters," He answered pessimistically. My eyebrows knitted together a little. "It's about a guy who has to hunt monsters and demons to keep a pretty waitress' like you alive," He added making me laugh.

"Oh, yeah? What happens in the end?" I asked with a smile staring deep into his eyes. He chuckles.

"Haven't written that part yet," He replied smoothly. I couldn't help but smile. I nodded slightly as I leaned forward pulling my number out of my pocket. Dean was smiling from ear to ear as I placed the paper on the table and slid it towards him. He looked at me like I had handed him billions of dollars.

"You'll have to let me know how the book ends," I shrugged making him chuckle. He bit his lip as he nodded. "Don't lose it," I joked making him laugh. He picked the paper up and put it in his front pocket.

"I wouldn't dream of it," He added making me smile a little wider. He seems goofy. The bell above the door grabbed my attention showing new customers. Two truckers would often come in.

"Hey, guys, take a seat I'll be over in a minute," I instructed as I stood up and started tucking my chair in. "Since you have my number and your coffee mug is full can I get you anything else?" I asked sweetly, his smile never fading.

"Don't suppose you have apple pie?" He asked sounding a little disheartened.

"We do actually, it's just not on the menu," I replied making him smile but also look confused.

"Any reason?" He asked.

"Well, I make the apple pies from scratch and I can't make enough for the whole restaurant so it's reserved for the kind of regulars," I explained making his eyes widen.

"You bake apple pies... You're marriage material," He commented making me laugh.

"One apple pie coming up," I announced making him laugh again.

"Ooh, make that three," A trucker added making me chuckle as I nodded and walked to the kitchen. I returned with their pies and as I placed Dean's in front of him he spoke.

"Go out with me," He said sounding sheepishly dominant. I smiled and nodded.

"I finish in 10 minutes,"

#fanfiction #fanfic #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fic #dean #dean winchester x reader

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kiankiwi · 3 months

Note

Husband Jacob comforting hormonal pregnant reader 🩷

You had no ideas why you were crying. You just were. There was often no point to your tears at this point in your pregnancy so you often just had to feel your feelings until you calmed down and were able to go about your day.

Jacob was up and on set before you even got up so you were used to waking up alone. Because he didn't get to see you in the morning, he would facetime you to say good morning and have a little chat because he had missed out on his morning with you.

He just so happened to call when you were mid sob. "Baby? What's the matta?" (his R's sound like a/aw to me lol) He asked, his eyes filling with concern. "You just--" You continued to sob and Jacob put his hand up, "Breathe baby, you're okay, breathe with me." He helped guide you through a few deep breaths so you weren't choking and coughing as you cried anymore.

"Just give it a second and then tell me what's up okay? Do I need to come home?" You shook your head in silence as you put your sleeve over your hand and wiped your face. "Take a deep breath." He took a breath with you to calm you even more so you didn't feel as silly.

"It's stupid..." You chuckled, laying back down in bed. "No, no baby, your feelings are never stupid okay. Can you talk to me, tell me why you're so sad?" That made you chuckle again because you felt so silly. "I'm not even sad! I just... you didn't wake me up when you left so I didn't get a goodbye kiss and then when I went downstairs to make a bagel, we're out of cream cheese and I'm too tired to go to the store and the store feels too public anyway, I feel like everyone's gonna be staring at me with this huge bump and I just.... argh!" You screamed out your frustration into Jacob's pillow which of course smelled like him and that sent you into a new wave of crying.

"What baby, what?" "Argh, your pillow smells like you!" You yelled, frustrated still. Jacob couldn't help but smile at that.

"Here bub, I see your water bottle is behind you on the nightstand can you take a drink please?" You nodded, guiding the straw into your mouth and taking a long pull. "Good, good job, keep doing that today okay?" You nodded.

Jacob got closer to the camera of his phone, so close that you could only see his mouth and facial hair. You laughed. "You wanna know a secret?" He asked, looking off somewhere on set so now you could only see one of his eyes. You grabbed Jacob's pillow and cuddled it. "What?" "I did give you a kiss goodbye, I tried to wake you but I knew you were probably gonna be sick as soon as you woke up so I left you be. I still gave you a forehead kiss though, I promise." You nodded. He was right, you did puke as soon as you got up for the day. "Thank you. I was really tired, I was up late reading again." Jacob smiled. "Is the book good?" You nodded, grabbing the 800 page monstrosity off your nightstand and showed it to him where you had left off.

"Damn baby, you can kill someone with that thing?" You quirked your eyebrow. "Don't piss the pregnant lady off." Jacob nodded. "Here how about I send an uber eats out for the cream cheese and maybe some chocolate too and they'll drop it off so you don't have to go anywhere?" You nodded, wiping at your eyes again. The nice gesture caused your eyes to well up again. "I'd really like that, thank you."

"I'm happy to help baby, is there anything else you want?" "Nutella... and maybe some cheetos? The jalepeno ones..." Jacob expected some weird items to be added to his shopping list. "Got it bub. I gotta get back now but by the time I get home, I want you to have drank that whole water bottle okay?" You nodded and just to make him smile took another long drink from your straw.

"Thank you, I'll see you in a few hours okay? Go and get my Rugby sweater if that'll help too?" Your eyes lit up at the mention of his old sweater. He blew you a kiss "Love you baby! Give the bean my love."

"We love you too!"

***

I meant for this to be a ficlet but then I got inspiration and it was quite fun! I hope you liked this

@eee-lordy @mooodyblue

#dad!jacob elordi #dad!jacob #x pregnant reader #jacob elordi fanfic #kiwiswriting #kiwisblurbs

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imaginethezeldaverse · 8 months

Note

Ahhh I love your work! Every work of yours I’ve read has been absolutely amazing, you write so beautifully. I was wondering if I could maybe request a Revali x reader headcanons of Rito mating season or heat/rut? Have a wonderful day/night as well!

Hmmm okay, I think I can give you a few off the top of my head, sure! Since we're talking about a mating season, I'm going to write reader a female/afab/child-bearing capable perspective, if that's okay. There's a headcanon I have that will involve that aspect (so trigger warning for that too btw - I'll add it in in the tags but just an fyi!) I also added a little mini fic in there for funsies lol enjoy!

It's overwhelming for him. Being with you is the first time his heat has ever truly affected him before, so the experience engulfs the poor Rito man. It's a new experience for you both.

He's scared he'll hurt you - like...actually scared. For as headstrong as he can be and how well he carries himself, he very much is still a hero - and that means no harm comes to people that don't deserve it. Especially you - who he loves so dearly and would give his ability to fly if it came down to it.

His instincts are so strong he almost can't control them this time. There's a sensation in him that needs to breed you - take you over and over until he knows he's successfully put a child in you.

Should you decide to help him, he's definitely not going to be gentle. You'll likely sustain some scratches, rug burn, and a few hickies here from his love bites. He's giving in to inhibition here, running with something more primal and animalistic than either of you are used to. But if that scares you - please heed his warning and leave! He absolutely would not hold it against you.

Afterwards, he's very cuddly and it's then you'll realize that he's made a makeshift nest out of a bunch of soft things he owned: garments, shed feathers, even all of his scarves that he's owned through the years. He'll hold you to his chest (and his heart is beating FAST), his chirps and trills are quiet but against your body you hear him clear as day. It takes a few minutes for him to slip back into a less animal-like frame of mind, so forgive him if he doesn't answer any questions or respond to you coherently right away.

Normally Revali had never had an issue with mating season before recent - without a mate to call his own, the ruts were never something he couldn't handle. However, after falling for you, the creation of an unbreakable bond of love and trust changes things inside him. His Rito DNA senses the deep affection he holds for you and ultimately alters his internal biology to reflect as such. So when mating season comes around, you're both blissfully unaware at first. Until you walk into his hut and find him doubled over. The scent of you hits him right away, and in a very rough, shaky voice he begs you not to come any closer. But you can clearly see that he's sweating profusely, feathers fluffed and tousled. He's disheveled and groaning in what sounds like pain so immediately you're thinking he's injured...or worse.

When you try to approach him again he raises his voice to leave him alone. "Please!" he begs - and the red alarms in your head are blaring because he is not one to beg for anything - "I need you...t-to leave..." his head hangs and his chest heaves as he tries to keep a semblance of his decency intact, "I c-c-can't...pro...tect you..." You look at him confused, protect you from what? There's currently no danger! Scanning the room, you still don't understand. But then you remember, from a book you'd read a while ago that Princess Zelda has lent to you (just so you could understand Rito culture a bit better) - spring always meant mating season. Your eyes connect with the foliage that peeks just outside of Revali's window - an elder tree in full bloom. So Revali was-- "Let me help you," you offer, realizing now why he seemed so pained. You didn't think about the decision, didn't think about the repercussions - all you wanted was for him to no longer be in distress. The black pupils of this emerald eyes withered to slits. His breathing picks up, a few short huffs away from a hyperventilation. With the last shred of coherent thought he could must, he exhaled out, "I'll...hurt...you..."

Perhaps it was your bravery, or maybe your caring, stubborn heart that would shrug off your coat, laying it on the ground before him. Revali watches you through his exasperated panting, the erection in his lower garments straining terribly, though he's trying to hide it. The groan he lets out sends a chill down your own spine when you move to gently cup his beak in your hands. As soon as you understood what was happening, you knew the risk of staying there. "I don't care, Revali...I know what you need..." his feather take on a more purple shade as he flushes, "...And I want to help you."

You barely have time to undo the bodice portion of your dress when your hands release his face and you turn to undress, because he almost immediately pins you down. His rush on your body has you landing a little awkwardly on your chest and stomach, but it's soothed by the sensation of long, soft fingered-feathers caressing your sensitive skin. The Rito's beak pecks everywhere he can reach, even plucking at your sleeves to release more of your skin from your dress. You feel his taloned foot wrap around your ankle, not necessarily doing anything to you other than anchoring you beneath him. His winged digits pinch your nipples to stiffness: the combination of those pulses of electricity and the very obvious hardness poking at your backside have you gasping already.

His rut makes him impatient; you know this as you already feel fingers circling your entrance, half to rile you up further, half to make sure you're ready. But again - Revali is impatient, and so up goes your dress, over your hips. There's brief shuffling behind you and then just as you brace your hand around what would essentially be his wrist, Revali is already spreading your legs and sliding between them. The pressure of him inside of you has you keening, and you're thankful for the little bit of foreplay you were given, making you just wet enough to accommodate him. The wing that toyed with your chest was now crowding around your neck, pulling your body upright and flush against his chest as he took you.

Revali is far less than gentle, the rough huffs and deep chitters falling over your skin as he held you still: one wing wound very loosely around your neck, the other gripping your thigh for purchase. His beak nibbled at whatever flesh he could reach. "Re...valiiiiii" you whined out, breath hitching mid thrust. But he could not hear you, his mind so incensed with fucking you to fullness, more avian than anything else as he slammed his hips into you. Yes, he would bed you multiple times that evening, and in multiple positions no less, spilling his seed so deep inside you, even he wasn't able to get you pregnant - he was surely going to take you like he planned on it.

------

After all is said and done, you eventually wake upon a bed of soft clothes and feathers. As you look down you realize it's shaped meticulously, as though it was made to have a form. It was then you realize his need to mate had him go through all of the motions: including building a nest for his mate. You look up at your Rito Champion, the tufts of his feathers much more relaxed than earlier as he rests. Your fingers gently stroke his beak, and the pleased chirp he lets out warms your heart. His wings wrap around your frame a little tighter; your hands waft through the down of his chest. You've no idea if this means you'll actually conceive or not - but you do know you don't mind in the least. You love Revali entirely, you wouldn't have offered if you didn't, and you're hoping that making love to him through his rut was proof enough. His beak finds your temple, carefully nibble and peck at the strands of your hair as if to preen you - it makes you giggle, his animal instincts still showing out in small ways as he settles down into sleep.

You'd assess any repercussions of his rougher handling when you awoke later, right now it just felt good to be in his arms like this.

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curvykittyyssmutfics · 7 months

Note

Um...what about divorce! andy barber x his new fiance going to beach with hardcore smut! =^-^=

Beach Day

"Fuuuck, I needed this, y/n, you were right! The weather's perfect today and the water feels so damn good. I can't believe we're the only ones here!" I tell her loudly as I take off my neon green goggles, exit the water, and head to our shared spot in the sand.

I run a hand threw my drenched brunnette tips, gazing at your curvy figure becoming more distinct as I get closer to her. The light breeze wraps around me, making me shiver as water drips off my body in heavy rivulets. Turning to the spectacularly clear ocean water, its impossible not to admire the crashing waves. Sand grains clump between my toes as I walk backwards towards the love of my life, stopping a foot in front of the extra XL towel with her and all of our belongings on it.

"You gotta come out into the water with me, babygirl. I know for a fact you'd enjoy it. Feels so good and the views amazing. There's all kinds of sea life in there to see, honey. Blew my mind!" I say, turning to get a view of my gorgeous girl laid out on her striped beach chair.

She looks up at me from her book through her Chanel sunglasses as I study how fuckin pretty y/n is, even with her cute little round nose scrunched up in distaste. Gripping her sunset colored towel in the front to keep it shut tight, she leans over to set her book down and pick up a water bottle.

"I don't think so, Andy. This how I enjoy the beach. Especially right after a hair appointment. Do your thang tho." She tells me while flickin her long y/h/c hair off her shoulders, voice full of attitude.

"Oh is that how it is?" I ask her feisty ass with a raised brow.

"Yeah, damn right that's how it is. Think cause ya ass fine you gone get me to do any and everything." She grumbles at me, taking a swig of water.

Walking up to her, I gently grab the water from her slender fingers and take a quick drink before setting it down next to the chair. I lean down over her to speak near her ear.

"It's not really that hard to get you to do what I want, is it pretty girl?" I ask her softly, skimming my nose down her neck.

She smells so fuckin good, just like the gardenia perfume I told her was my favorite on her. That, mixed with her shea butter lotion, got me damn near drooling so I take a stronger whiff into her smooth chocolate skin.

"You callin me easy, boy?" Her tone missing all the bite it just held.

Her question makes me chuckle but I don't answer with words. Choosing instead to respond by kissing her neck softly, groaning at the way her body immediately responds to me.

Y/n becomes pliant, her head tilting to offer me space to do more. Her small, quiet gasps let me know all that earlier attitude is for show; I know I have my future little wife wrapped around my finger. Thoughts of my submissive woman have me grippin the arms of her chair tight and my dick chubbin up in the bright yellow swim trunks she picked out for me. Fuck, it never takes much for this woman to make me hard as a rock.

She doesn't notice though, her head back and eyes shut tight. Her perfect white teeth start to lightly gnaw on her plump bottom lip as I graduate to adding soft licks in-between my kisses to her delicate skin. That seems to register though, and her hushed noises switch to lusty whimpers and pants.

Those sounds are always music to my ears; love hearing and watching her bask in the way my touch makes her feel. She's so damn vocal, so sensitive to my ministrations.

I pull away reluctantly, standing to my full height to observe my woman. I'm delighted to see my girl staring back up at me with a heaving chest, open mouth and clenching thighs. I pull her sunglasses off and set them by our water bottle.

"Stand up. Towel off." I order abruptly, holding my hand out to her.

"But.. But Andy, I-"

I don't give her a chance to finish as I quickly reach for the hair at her nape with damp fingers and snatching her head back firmly. The silence that follows y/n's surprised gasp satisfies me as I repeat my words and wait for her response. Her quick nodd prompts me to release her and step back, raising my hand again.

She stands at a snail pace, but her cute skittle manicured hands are already untucking the towel and dropping it into my palm. Anxious y/e/c eyes stare at the sand as I asses her fit. The bathing suit wrappin around those luscious curves, MY curves, seductively is NOT the same one momma had laid out on the bed this morning. The sight of my masterpiece in this scrap of cloth has me forgettin where the fuck we are as I grab my cock through my shorts and squeeze.

"You changed your mind.." Is all I can say while leering at every inch of her.

"I ordered it a few years ago, but I could never find the courage to wear it." Y/n confesses, her eyes stuck on her toes digging into the sand.

"What changed?" I ask her curiously, lifting her chin with my index finger.

"You." She answers simply, beautiful eyes finally meeting mine.

Without thinking I press a passionate kiss to my women's deep red painted lips. She moans against my mouth when I hump our hips together repeatedly, pokin the tip of my hard dick against her clit as wrap my arms around her waist and hold her close.

"Your so fuckin amazing in every way, I'm gonna give you my all for the rest of our lives. I love you y/n." I vow when I break the kiss.

I peck her lips once more before spinnin her in a half circle, y/n now standing where I was and me in her place. I turn her to face the water then sit, bringing her to plop in my lap.

Fuck, those fat ass pussy lips feel like heaven against my dick, even through the material. I groan at the sensation of her surroundin me, taking her towel and spread it over us to hide our lower halves. She's havin none of that though, already so fuckin wet that I can feel her soakin through my damp shorts as she leans forward and pops her ass up and down on my clothed cock. The towel drops to the sand as I grip at her waist to steady myself.

"So you really like my bathing suit, Daddy?"

Her alluring tone has me groanin again out loud as I watch her body twist sensually with her head held back. The arch in y/n's spine and the wind blowing layers of her silky hair down her back is nothing short of an epic vision of flawlessness.

"So fuckin much honey. Hands down one of my favorites."

I watch as she reaches for the cloth hiding my prize between her perfect brown thighs and move it to the side. I move at the speed of light to unsheathe my thick dick and offer it to her. Her enticing high pitched moans boom around us as I lewdly stare at the sticky wetness of her pussy glistening in the sun. Cant help but to squeeze at her waist a bit more as my vixen teasingly sliding her pussy up and down my shaft in quick strides.

"Ohhh sh-shit honey, wait-"

But then I'm moaning loud at how my girls swiveling her hips in perfect circles over me, saturating my throbbing dick and balls in her juices. The feeling boiling in my ball sack got me wantin to tell momma to slow down but I wouldn't dream of stoppin this sexy women grindin all over my cock. Her pleading whines for me to fuck her rise in volume still and I gotta tense, abs rippling as I put in real fuckin effort not to bust my nut.

"Daddy put it in! Why won't you fuck meeee?"

Y/n's sobs alone are enough to make me wanna nut on the spot and I'm thinkin I might need to take a page outta babygirls page, beg her to give me a moment of reprieve.

"OK, j-just gimme a sec. Stop movin, momma. Don't wanna cum."

I try to warn her but she's so fuckin desperate for me and I understand why as I notice her rubbing frantic circles on her messy little button. Its unfortunate for me when one of her outta sync thrusts has my tip catchin at her pussy lips and I know I'm screwed. Baby girl's loud ass gasp is way too fuckin gleeful as she forcefully sits on my dick.

"Yeeeees! Gimme my dick, Daddy- lemme have it, pleeeease! Haaaaah fuck! Yesyesyesyes!"

There's not a single thing I can do as my eyes roll back and I immediately start to spurt cum into my future wife. I can't even muster any energy to feel pathetic as I nut gush after gush into her heavenly cavern. It's exhilarating, steals the breath from lungs as my dick pulsates from how her perfect little pussy strangles it.

Serving my woman jerky stabs, I aid her in bouncin ontop of me while she sobs my name. My balls smack against her wetly as she leans back against me, arm reaching out to hold the back of my neck. I abandon my hold at y/n's waist to wrap both arms around her tummy, my right moving farther down to join hers to rub her clit.

The feeling of her seizuring in my lap while squirting against my twitchin cock forces me to spray a couple more jets of cum into that tight little puss. I refuse to stop rubbing between her legs, making my poor girl come hard as fuck with jubilant shouts of my name. Reveling at the clutch on my dick, I praise y/n for being such a good girl.

"That's it honey, I want it all. My special girl deserves this and more. And I'm gonna get it for her. But you gotta come for Daddy first, sweetheart. Cum all over me, y/n. Good girl, such a good fuckin girl."

Shes thanking me enthusiastically, profusely. I can finally cease when the last dose of her love gushes out. A mixture of our cum oozes out around my cock, the breezing cooling the sticky liquid plastering my thighs and balls. I slide a finger throught the mess, writing my initials with the sticky wetness on her trembling thigh. It takes me a second to speak through my heaving breaths to the limp woman laying on my chest.

"Well, I know you only got your hair done yesterday but.. You sure you don't wanna get in the water, sweeetheart?"

My girl can't help but to laugh out loud at my one track mind, jabbing me in the side with a tired elbow.

#black reader #daddy k!nk #black fanfiction #all readers #andy barber #andy barber x black!reader #andy barber x reader #andy barber x female reader #andy barber x you #andy barber x y/n #submisive and breedable #creamp!e

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heart4reigns · 11 months

Note

Hi! I was requesting a fluff roman fic they are both protective of the other and in a tag team match y/n notices that one of their opponents is trying to sabotage roman and so she gets rid of them and then her and roman with the match tyy! (sorry if this made no sense lol) also your writing is really cool and well written :)

DOUBLE TROUBLE, roman reigns.

warnings: curse words, fights, unwanted flirting

tags: ocs to fit the plot, badass (y/n), personal BEEF IN THIS FIGHT, who's your head of the table now? LET’S SPICE IT UP A BIT WITH SOME BACKSTAGE DRAMA

summary: we all hate that one dude from work

EVER since you were put into a tag-team reign with your boyfriend, you couldn't help but to notice that he was very very protective of you. see, you weren't weak at all, but all the hard hits and impacts? he took them for you. who would've thought that his protectiveness rubbed off on you?

"baby." roman greeted you with a kiss. "what's good baby?" you replied. "creatives called us." you furrowed your brows, clearly confused. "they're gonna talk about our bookings." you followed him to his car. "i'm so excited, i hope we're gonna fight sami and kevin again!" you giggled, taking pictures of him driving. "i hope so too."

to your surprise, you spotted paul heyman sitting in the middle of the room. "paul?" you were still confused. "oh (y/n), roman. you're not gonna like this." his tone was concerning. "we're not gonna like what?" speak of the devil, the office door opened, revealing two people you didn't want to see. "you gotta be shitting me." you muttered under your breath.

mike and ryan, or their tag-team name, the miracle workers, were bad wrestlers. they were ranked the most reckless wrestlers in the current lineup. "look who we have here!" ryan stared at you from head to toe. you hated him. he was a flirt, always trying to get it with you, even though he knew that you were dating the roman reigns. roman tensed up, moving his chair closer to yours.

on the other hand, mike was probably more insufferable than ryan. he was a man of few words, but when he opened his mouth, he'd say the worst thing that someone could ever think of. you really couldn't do anything about this booking. they were pushing you and roman together for being the new upcoming tag-team champions, this match was just another roadblock to success. as soon as you signed the contract, you could tell that ryan was still eyeing you.

“can’t wait to see you in your sexy gear, (y/n)." ryan winked at you. “how many times do i have to tell you that i have a boyfriend and he’s literally sitting in front of you.” you rolled your eyes in annoyance. “i’m just saying you look good in your gear, i can treat you right.” that got into your boyfriend’s nerves as he stood up from his seat, causing you to stand up as well–to prevent things from going downhill. “chill, dude. that was a joke.” ryan panicked for a second. “you better start respecting her or i’m going to actually kick your ass, ryan.”

roman was known for his good temper, but some people got under his nerves. you put your hand on his shoulders. “come on, let’s go.” you said, not wanting to cause a fight. “yeah. we’re just wasting our time here.” paul added. the black-haired male grunted in response, taking your hand and walked out of the room with an annoyed expression plastered on his face. “i swear, we’re going to fucking ruin them next week.”

something riled up inside your boyfriend after the contract signing incident. he was… oddly very excited for the match. he complained about it before but now? he was working his ass off. roman also contributed to the choreography, it was mostly his idea. you saw the moves and you knew that he was trying to get you away from ryan as much as possible, pinning you to your other opponent, mike.

the gym was filled with commotion. "AND ANOTHER SPEAR FROM HER!" solo yelled, acting like the commentator. "SOLO, GET YOUR ASS HERE! YOU'RE A REFEREE NOT A COMMENTATOR!" his brother shouted. "RIGHT." solo immediately jumped into the ring, counting down to 3. before he could reach the third number, you kicked out. "shit, you really are the female version of him." jimmy complained.

you licked your lips in excitement, feeling adrenaline pumping in your blood. "i'd really hate it if i was put inside the ring with you, (y/n)." jimmy stood up, fixing his gloves. "and thank god we're in the same faction!" you grinned, countering his kick with another kick. jimmy was down as you locked his head with your arms. you won again in this practice, "HELL YEAH!" you jumped, falling on you back. "i don't get you sometimes, (y/n). you're clumsy as hell but like you're also fast."

"that's because she's in good hands." your tag-team partner (aka boyfriend) went inside the ring. "you missed my cool kick." you pouted. "i didn't, i was watching from behind the glass." he took off his glasses and started stretching. "you know, i'd love to see you wrestle with your glasses on." you winked at him. "stop flirting and start attacking." jey complained.

thankfully, you came home in one piece, despite having your body thrown from left to right. it was going to be a big fight tomorrow and you hated the bookings. "what are you thinking about, baby?" your thoughts were cut-off by your boyfriend's voice. "how i fucking hate being in the ring with mike and ryan." you sighed. "honestly, you’re right. they need to know their place, i can’t stand seeing you being disrespected." he agreed.

"it's going to be okay, baby. i mean what's the worst thing that could happen to us?"

the day for the match came and you couldn’t wait for it to be over. roman was holding your hand the entire time, not wanting you to slip from his sight. suddenly, his phone rang, he hesitated for a second. “babe, it’s okay. you can go answer the phone, i’ll be in the locker room.” you gave him a reassuring smile. “okay, i’ll be right back.” with that, he left you.

locker room wasn’t empty. you spotted some of your friends gearing up for the show. “hey, (y/n)!” bianca gave you a big hug as soon as she saw you. “hi!” you returned the gesture. “excited for tonight?” she sat down to adjust her outfit. “i never wanted to walk-out of a match so bad.” you complained. “ah yes, mike and ryan.” she cringed at the thought of the miracle workers. “good luck then, beat their asses!”

“damn, told you that you looked good with your gear.” you didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. “what are you doing here?” you asked. the locker room was empty now and your boyfriend was still on his call with jey. “do you mind?” “i don’t mind talking to you while your bodyguard isn’t here.” he winked. “jesus, drop the entire flirty act, please?” you were very annoyed. “i’m sorry i just can’t help it, you’re too pretty to ignore.”

“and you look too young to get your ass beat by me. move it, ryan.” you sighed in relief as you heard your boyfriend’s voice. “aaand the tribal chief is here, better get going. good luck tonight.” “stick to the script tonight!” he closed the door, avoiding a long lecture from the champion himself. “did he do anything?” roman looked at you with concern written all over his face. “no he didn’t, just his usual shit.” “right, let’s just end this night. we can go home after that and get ice cream.”

the show started for the two of you. “the undisputed tag-team champions, roman reigns and (y/n) (l/n), the bloodline!” the crowd went wild as you walked down to the ring. mike and ryan were already standing inside, ready to attack anytime. people were rising up their fingers in tribute of your championship with roman. as soon as you slid inside the ring, bowing down to the crowd–you could tell this was going to be a messy match.

your heart skipped a beat when the match started, mike and ryan immediately going off script. ryan was continuously trying to get you down, instead of roman. you made eye-contact with roman for a second, knowing how this match was going to be tough. you quickly avoided the punch that ryan was throwing at you. you dropkicked him from behind, causing him to fall on his stomach. now that ryan was down, you just needed to help roman stray mike away. “and a spear from reigns to mike, what will they do after this?” you jumped on the ropes, ready to jump on mike before ryan picked you up.

“ryan is back on his feet, capturing her in his lock.” you breathed for air as you were lifted from the ropes. “ryan, jesus christ!” you mouthed at him. he threw you on the ground, still going off script. oh, someone’s gonna get fired tonight, you thought. it was totally personal for the four of you. the move he made earlier caused you to hurt your shoulders. pain shot up from your shoulders. before he could tackle you again, roman speared him to the barricades. that one was personal.

mike was in the middle of the ring, looking for another attack. you speared him to the barricades, copying your boyfriend’s move. he wasn’t moving. one down, one to go, you thought. while you were with mike, ryan and roman were back inside the ring. you could see ryan was going to throw a punch on one of your boyfriend’s already bruised peck. you ran and slid inside the ring, dragging him into the pole. you were still holding back your punches, still being professional as ever. everyone could tell that you and roman were pissed. even the most gullible fans knew that the two of you were different tonight.

the crowd counted down along with the referee and you were glad that it was over. “and the winners, still the undisputed tag-team champion, the bloodline, roman reigns and (y/n) (l/n)!” you lifted the belts with your boyfriend on your side. “thank you.” he mouthed to you. “anything for you, baby.” you winked at him.

needless to say, you knew the backstage was going to be a mess. the locker room, on the other hand, was impressed with you and roman. “dude, i’d be so fucking pissed. i won’t even hold back my punches.” theory was there, still in his gear, clearly waiting for the two of you to drop some tea. “i just don’t get it why they were so fucking reckless.” you were offered ice by shotzi, she gave you a pity smile.

“what the fuck, reigns?” the miracle workers came back to the locker room. “no, what the fuck, ryan?” you stood up from your seat, clearly angered by his actions. “we told you to stick to the script.” your tone was laced with venom. “and we don’t listen to you fuckers.” mike said. “see, if you complied with us and just be a pretty girl inside the ring… be useless as usual, we might stick to the scri-“ before mike could finish his sentence, you dropped the ice and lunged on him. you had him on headlock, the man was on the ground. “call me useless one more time and you and your flirty friend right there,” you paused for a second to point at ryan who was scared shitless. “are going home with nothing but cut and bruises.”

roman wanted to intervene, but he knew you were capable of protecting yourself. “bro, you’re not gonna do anything?” jimmy nudged him. “nah, i’ll sit back and watch. i love seeing her being aggressive. they deserved it.”

a/n: HIII thank u so much for your request and i really appreciate your comment <333 it made my day!! requests are still open but i'm gonna focus on operation: together (aka a love triangle between roman and cody) check it out <3

#roman reigns #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns x reader #the usos #wwe #wwe imagines #paul heyman #wrestling #cody rhodes #jey uso #austin theory #bianca belair #shotzi

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rose-sophia-isabella-rogers · 3 months

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A Steel That Went Through Hottest Fire: Chapter XII - Holding Out an Olive Branch

Chapter Summary: You wake up and discover Aleksander is gone. You hurry to the Fold, determined to help him, save him or die with him. Will you get there in time? And what do the results mean for you?

Pairing: Aleksander Kirigan/Reader, Ivan/Fedyor Kaminsky, Mal Oretsev/Alina Starkov, Genya Safin/David Kostyk

Characters: Aleksander Kirigan, Reader, Ivan, Fedyor Kaminsky, Alina Starkov, Mal Oretsev, Inej Ghafa, Zoya Nazyalensky, Nina Zenik, Nikolai Lantsov, Genya Safin, David Kostyk, Baghra, Tolya Yul-Bataar

Word Count: 4333

A/N: This chapter contains plot and dialogues from episode eight of season two. Also, we're get into the story from the King of Scars. Not much taken in this chapter, but later on I'm going to take some fragments from the book. Enjoy! https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089684638/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089798515/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089786937/

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or removed):

@budugu

@intothesoul

@mizelophsun11

@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy

@zeeader

@marrymonrich

@wonderland2425

@chelseyyouraverageluigi

@thehufflepuffavenger1

When you wake up, you don't open your eyes at first. You lay in it, remembering with a smile the events of last night. You reach to the other side of the bed but you don't find Aleksander with your hand. You frown at the feeling of very cold sheets. You move your hand and suddenly feel a piece of paper.

You sit up abruptly. You grab the letter and scan it quickly with your eyes. Your face goes pale and your heart stops.

'Damn it, Aleksander!' you curse and spring out of the bed. You quickly dress yourself. For a moment you can't find your kefta. You finally notice it, but when you unfold it, you see it's not yours. You freeze for a moment. In some places, grey embroidery turns to black. In another situation, you'd be touched by it, appreciate it and maybe even cry a bit. But now you just put it on and gather your things.

You take a peek outside. In the letter Kirigan mentions that Fedyor and Ivan will look after you. You understand it as making sure you won't run. So, you look for them. You see them with their backs to you and a few feet away, talking quietly.

You quietly sneak away past them to the horses. You prepare yours and mount it. You direct him toward the Fold and urge him forward. It neighs, and galops away.

Ivan and Fedyor's head snap toward the sound. They're eyes go wide at the sight of you riding away. They sprint toward their horses.

'General will kill us!' Fedyor says, cursing under his breath, as they mount their horses.

'If he'll me merciful,' Ivan says gloomily and they ride after you.

But you're riding faster than you've ever had. Your heart beats faster, when you see the Fold is closer. Aleksander has spread it again. You bite your lip, fully believing nichevoy'a will protect you from the Volcras, and ride into the Fold.

You don't have to worry about the monsters of the Unsea long, though. Suddenly, everything is covered in blinding light. When you can see again, you're no longer surrounded with darkness. The Fold is gone. While part of you is glad, you're mostly concerned with what that means for the Darkling. You ride faster, praying to the Saints to arrive in time.

In the middle of the Unsea, Aleksander and Alina face each other. Starkov won, but Mal sacrificed himself, so she could destroy the Fold. Kirigan is wounded, but he still wants to join forces with the Sun Summoner. But when she pushes him away, nichevo attacks her, and doesn't listen to the Darkling ordering it to stop. Inej, the female thief from Ketterdam you've met, throws a sword made by Sankta Neyar at it, destroying it. It's the only thing that can do it and it's been acquired it with great difficulty.

'You can't control them, can you?' Alina asks. 'You can't control any of it.'

She's on her knees. Aleksander is already standing. He offers her his hand. She stares at it.

'I thought I could control it all… once,' he says. 'Find peace. And for a moment… I swear I did.'

He closes his eyes with a soft smile. Memories of you flash in his mind. Your smile. Your laugh. Your teas. Your kisses. The nights you've spent together.

Suddenly, he feels terrible pain in his abdomen. He coughs out blood and opens his eyes. He looks down. The sword is lodged in him, held by Alina's hands.

'Without me… know they will come for you,' he says. She stares at him angrily.

'Let them come,' she says and pulls out the sword with the grunt. Kirigan gasps and falls backward. A moment later Starkov shows up in his vision, blocking out the sun.

At that moment, you arrive. Your heart drops at the sight of General on the ground and Alina above him.

'No,' you whisper, dismounting. 'Saints, no, please!'

You run to them. Alina hears you or sees you, because she looks up. She tenses and gets ready to fight, but you ignore her and fall on your knees next to your lover. He groans as you touch him.

'Hey, hey, hey, hey. Shhh,' you say gently, as you scoop him up in your arms.

Saints, no, please, no…

'… [Y/N]… you're here?' Aleksander asks, trying to focus on you. You manage to laugh, tears in your eyes.

'Yeah. Yeah, of course I'm here,' you say. 'Now don't talk.'

There's so much blood…

'It h- it hurts,' he cries out.

'I know, darling,' you say, brushing the hair from his forehead. 'But don't talk. And don't move, either.'

No, no, no…

'H-hey, [Y/N]?' Kirigan asks. His breaths are rattling.

'Yeah?' you ask.

Stay awake…

'I-' he says and coughs. 'I love you.'

His eyes close. You freeze. You finally heard those words. But he… he's gone.

'No…' you sob. You whine, your shoulders shaking, as you press your head to his chest. You clench his kefta tight, begging him to come back to you.

You're not even aware you have an audience. Zoya and Inej are standing not far, looking at you sadly. You're only pulled back to reality after hearing a relieved laugh.

You lift your head up. You see Alina hugging Mal. The tracker is alive. A Heartrender, Nina, is next to them. Did she save him? But no, she's shocked as well. You focus on Alina… and feel it.

You feel anger. She killed Aleksander for using merzost to save Grisha. And now she's used it to save her lover? What a hypocrite…

You feel something burning inside, begging to get out. The moment you realise what it is, you calm down. You look up and meet Zoya's hesitant look calmly. Everything is gonna to be different now.

You don't know how you return out of the Fold. Or what used to be it. You get to an old camp at Kribirsk. You meet the rest of Alina's army there. Including Prince Nikolay. Your eyes meet, but he quickly looks away, finding something unnerving in your look.

You're taken away to a tent. On your way out, you didn't allow anyone to take you from Aleksander's body. Now you hesitate only for a moment.

You sit on a chair, your hands spread and bound. After what feels like hours, Nikolay enters the tent. You don't look at him.

'Baghra claims these bonds won't stop you,' he says after a moment and walks toward you. 'That if you want, you can break them free. You don't need to touch your hands for that.'

'And why would I do that?' you ask, your voice flat. The Prince… or maybe the King, just not crowned yet, sits on a chair opposite to you. You still don't look at him.

'To run away,' he answers. You focus your gaze on him. Once again, something in your eyes disturbs him.

'Where?' you ask.

'Anywhere you want,' he answers, shrugging. You smile bitterly.

'And what would I do?' you ask. 'I used to think I can use my powers to help others. To make this world a better place. How would I do that on the endless run?'

Tears glisten in your eyes. You hastily look away. Nikolay observes you in silence. He knows you were on Kirigan's side. But he can't imagine you approved everything he did. Others told him that as well.

'Are you going to kill me?' you ask.

'Do you want me to?' he asks. 'And that is a serious question. Do you want to die?'

'No,' you answer after a moment. 'I… I've done some things I'm not proud of. I need to atone for them. My death wouldn't do that. I'd be just running away from responsibility for my actions.'

'Did you really love him this much that you didn't hesitate to break your own rules?' Nikolay asks quietly. You look at him.

'I do,' you confirm. He almost shivers under your gaze. He looks down.

'You'll be a prisoner until…' he says but doesn't finish the thought. Until you atone? Until they decide you're not really a villain?

'You weren't with others,' he says instead and looks at you again. 'And you weren't with Kirigan in the Fold from the beginning. If you had been, you'd have stopped Alina from killing him. So, where were you? Why weren't you there?'

'Because he didn't want me to,' you answer after a beat. 'He was protecting me, since I'm not much of a fighter. He didn't want me to get hurt. And he also… didn't want me to bend my morals even more. He already believes… believed… that he had ruined me enough.'

Your look softens. You clench your fists.

'I'm not trying to minimalize what's he done,' you say. 'He committed hideous crimes. But he… he cared. There was goodness in his heart.'

Silence falls. This time you don't try to hide tears in your eyes.

'You know this is my third time in this camp?' you say. 'The first time was when I created my skiff. The second time when… we crossed the Fold that day.'

'Did you know what he's planning?' Nikolay asks.

'I figured it out,' you admit. 'I didn't approve of it, though. And I'm glad the Fold is gone. I didn't believe controlling it would make Grisha safe. Just as now I don't believe it being gone will do it.'

'It won't be easy,' the King says, easily getting back his confidence. 'But the country is united once again. We can do it.'

'The land maybe is reunited, but not its people. It won't be that easy. You lost what could unite them. Because it's easier to unite against a common enemy than under the kind ruler.'

'You think Alina made a mistake killing the Darkling.'

'You know my opinion on that matter. But yes. He could have been someone that could help you stitch this country back together.'

'If you didn't believe in neither controlling the Fold nor destroying him… what did you believe in?'

'Him.'

Silence falls again. Nikolay observes you, thinking how to break certain news to you.

'We have to burn him,' he finally says and you stiffen. 'Will you let us?'

'I know how dangerous it would be to simply bury him,' you say softly and then look at him with a hard gaze. 'But I have one condition. Or rather… request.'

'What is it?' the King asks, actually curious.

'Let me prepare him for it,' you answer and your lip trembles. 'Let me… say goodbye properly.'

Nikolay thinks about it carefully. But finally… he nods.

'I will send someone for you,' he says, standing up. 'But after you're done, your being tied again and in Os Alta you're going to be put in a cell.'

You nod in agreement. The King looks at you for a moment longer, then leaves.

You're not sure how much time pass until it's time of the ceremony. For the burning of the Darkling and the Sun Summoner, which is obviously attended by many people. Because officially, Alina Starkov has died while destroying the Fold. She chose a simple life with her Tracker. You can't really blame her. It's what you would want with Aleksander.

You glare at her. She's here, disguised, of course. But she wanted to see it. See him being burned. And herself. So, since you're present as well, you glare at her, angry that she can get to live the life you want.

You turn your head, not wanting to explode. You glance at your guards and look at his body. In the corner of your eye, you see Nikolay giving the signal. You watch as the Inferni summon the fire to ignite the stake. People around you call Alina's name. No one calls his. Because not many knew it.

'Aleksander,' you whisper. Suddenly, you feel arms around you. Zoya, your friend, who's not sure how to treat you now, puts her head on yours.

'It's over, [Y/N],' she says softly, with a dose of compassion, you think.

'No, you're wrong,' you say quietly, your eyes not leaving the pyre. 'It has just begun.'

Two years and a half have passed since the civil war in Ravka. Nikolay is still trying to stitch his country back together. He has help, of course. But some things only he can do. One of them isn't the new threat to Grisha. To deal with that he needs all the help he can get.

Jurda parem. The drug that modifies Grisha's power by changing their perception of the world in an opposite and unnatural direction. It is extremely addictive to them, and rapidly weakens the body of the user. Many want to use this to their advantage. Fjerda. Shu-Han. It seems only Ravka wants this drug out of the market and to save Grisha. But even though they now have the son of the creator of the drug, they're still not closer to finding an andidotum.

Nikolay sits with his Grisha Triumvirate – Genya, Zoya and David – and they have a brainstorm. The Durast is trying hard, but so far, he's getting nowhere.

'It is frustrating,' Zoya sighs, after yet another dismissed idea. 'Why did Bo Yul-Bayur have to die?'

'I'm sure he didn't just decide to die and leave us all in this mess,' Genya says grimly, but suddenly frowns. 'David? I know that look. You have an idea.'

'Well…' the Durast starts but closes his eyes. 'I'm not sure.'

'Share with us, David,' Nikolay encourages him. 'Surely it's not worse than Zoya's idea to set Fjerda and Shu-Han on fire.'

'I still think it's our best option,' Zoya says, raising her head haughtily. She is ignored.

'I have tried many things with that drug to find an antidote,' David says. 'I am skilled… but there is someone whose mind is far brighter than me… who may think of a solution.'

'There is no one smarter than you,' Genya says, squeezing the hand of her husband.

'There is one person,' Kostyk disagrees, staring Nikolay in the eyes. The King slumps in his chair. He closes his eyes and pinches his nose.

'You can't think…' Genya starts, realising what the Durast means as well. 'She won't agree.'

'She cares about Grisha,' David argues softly. 'And she's not… She helped you escape.'

'She's spent two years and a half locked in a cell,' Safin argues. 'She couldn't use her powers. Don't you think that changed her?'

'Surely,' Kostyk agrees. 'But not enough not to help.'

'Can she really find a way we haven't found?' Nikolay interrupts them.

'We've all been surprised by how powerful she really is,' Zoya speaks up. 'All but one.'

An hour later Nikolay knocks on the door to Baghra's hut. He comes in after the invitation. The old woman is sitting in her armchair. She looks at him.

'Do what do I owe the pleasure of the King himself to visit me?' she asks with sarcasm.

'I need to talk to you about our problem,' Lantsov explains, sitting on a chair.

'Jurda parem,' Baghra says and spits. 'Another abomination. Are the Durast and Alkemi any closer to finding an antidote?'

'No,' Nikolay denies and exhales. 'But David believes someone else may think of something.'

'[Y/N],' Baghra immediately guesses and nods. 'She has a unique brain. One of the reasons he was so drawn to her. Yes, if anyone can find a cure, it's her.'

'Will she do it, though?' the King asks. The old woman is silent for a moment.

'Yes,' she finally answers. 'Her heart hasn't changed. She still would do anything to keep Grisha save.'

'But what will it cost us?' Lantsov asks. Baghra smiles.

'You have to ask her about it,' she answers. 'But don't worry. Without my son, she's not your enemy.'

Another hour later, you hear footsteps coming your way. You know it's not Baghra, who's visiting you quite often, as they don't sound like hers. You look, curious, at the door to your cell and a moment later you see a guard and… Zoya.

'Have you come to kill me?' you ask.

'No,' your former friend simply denies and nods at the guard. He unlocks and opens the door to your cell. The Squaller walks inside and he closes the door behind her, but doesn't lock it. Then, he leaves. Zoya sits on a chair usually occupied by Baghra. She crosses her legs and looks at you.

You're sitting on a chair. You're thin, almost all skin and bone. Your complexion is grey. There are dark circles under your eyes. Your hair is matte. You look like a ghost.

'Then why are you here?' you ask. Nazyalensky sighs… and tells you everything about jurda parem. By the end of her story, you're frowning.

'That is… I've always known Fjerdans are bastards but what they did to those Grisha…' you say and shake your head. 'Still… I don't know why you have come to me.'

'We need to find an antidote,' Zoya explains. 'And you're the brightest person we know.'

'I'm not a Alkemi, though,' you say, frowning. 'And since Bo Yul-Bayur was one… you need another one to create an antidote for his work.'

'We don't have an Alkemi smart enough, apparently,' the Squaller says. 'And since you're a Durast-'

'It's not the same. We have completely different abilities.'

'Maybe. But you're still the smartest person I know. If you can't figure it out, no one can.'

You look away. You think about it in silence.

'Please, [Y/N],' Nazyalensky says quietly. 'David believes in you. So does Baghra. And… I do, too.'

'Trying to use my sentiment, well played,' you say.

'I'm not trying to manipulate you,' Zoya snaps. 'I'm not-'

She stops herself. She goes pale. You close your eyes.

'I still find it funny,' you say quietly. 'He manipulated everyone. I was manipulated by everyone but him.'

'I know he said with his last breath he loved you…' the Squaller says slowly, '… but he still didn't deserve you.'

'Perhaps,' you concede. Silence falls between you two again.

'Fine,' you finally say. 'I can try at least.'

'What do you want in return?' Zoya, who's relieved but also wary, asks. You look at her with a frown.

'I care about Grisha, too, you know,' you say. 'I want them to be safe as much as you all do. But since I can ask for something… there's one thing I want.'

A few months have passed since you've been officially pardoned and released from prison. It felt nice to return to your old room and not to have your hands bound. But other Grisha, obviously, don't trust you and look at you with disdain. You ignore them.

Together with David and other Materialki you try to find an antidote for jurda parem. It's not going well. One day, you even throw a mortar at the wall. David stares at it with wide eyes. You exhale slowly and run a hand through your hair.

'You know, I think it was simpler with the skiff,' you say.

'It is complex,' Kostyk says. 'Give yourself time. We're getting there.'

'And how much of that time I have?' you ask. 'The only reason I'm out of the cell is because you believed I can figure something out. When does Nikolay's patience runs out and I go back there?'

'It won't happen,' the Durast promises. You smile sadly at him. He decides to take your mind of this.

'Did you think what will you do after we find an antidote?' he asks. 'Will you… stay?'

'I am not welcome here,' you say after a beat. 'I… I don't know what I am going to do. They say, "follow your heart", but if your heart is in a million pieces, which piece do you follow?'

You blink away the tears. David looks at you with sorrow.

'You know… I miss him sometimes, too,' he admits and you look at him with interest. 'He… had something about him. A charisma. He drew us all in. We felt safe, needed. I believe that he actually cared and wanted to make Ravka better. Or at least better for Grisha. I don't think he was evil. He… just lived too long.'

'Sometimes I think so, too, ' you agree quietly. 'But then I think we didn't have enough time.'

'Did he… tell you he loved you?' Kostyk asks hesitantly.

'They were his last words,' you answer after a beat. 'For weeks I wondered whether he feels what I feel. And when I finally got a confirmation… I couldn't even be happy about it.'

You look down. The Durast wants to reach to you and squeeze your hand. But while you work, joke and spend time together… you're not as close as you used to be. He still wants to comfort you somehow.

'I'm sure you hear others gossiping,' he says after a moment. 'That he didn't and was just manipulating you. I don't believe it. He truly cared about you. I saw it. When he was dragging you away from workshop, so you could rest, for example. He was also more relaxed around you… more cheerful. And yes, it was friendship at first. But at some point, I noticed that he was looking at you differently than he used to.'

You smile at him, grateful for his words. But he's not done yet.

'When he was leading me to the workshop in the mansion,' he continues, 'he said you're there and you're definitely going to be happy to see me. He… he seemed so happy he can brighten your day. He always was like that with you.'

'If you won't stop, I'm really going to cry,' you chuckle, trying really not to break down. 'Thank you, though.'

David nods. You go for the mortar you've thrown and return to work. Your fellow Durast observes you.

'I think, though, that you deserve more,' he says after a moment. You look at him, curious.

'You deserve to be someone's priority,' he explains. 'And while there's no doubt Kirigan loved you… he cared more about the Fold and power.'

'Thank you, David,' you say. 'I… I think I really needed to hear all that you said. About… him… and me as well.'

Just then Tolya Yul-Bataar shows up at the door. He looks at you grimly.

'Speaking of,' you say and pack your things. 'See you in a week.'

'Until next week,' Kostyk says, nodding. You smile at him and leave with grumpy Tolya. You go outside and mount your horses. You set off immediately.

A few days later you reach your destination. You ride through an open space that used to be the Fold for so many centuries. Finally, you stop and dismount. Tolya stays with the horses and you continue on foot for a moment longer. At last, you stop and stare at the ground.

This is your price for helping with an antidote. Every two months, you're to travel here with someone, not always Tolya. To the place where Aleksander died. It's your way to deal with grief. At first, you wanted to come here every month. But since travelling there and back takes about a week, you agreed for two months. You're relieved Nikolay agreed at all.

'So, here I am again,' you start. 'Missing you the same way I did three years ago. I told you, didn't I? That I would never forget you. Three years it's probably not much for you, since you've lived hundreds of years. But I know you'd want me to move on by now. I don't think that's ever going to happen. You'd probably be frustrated by that.'

You exhale slowly. You can hear Tolya pacing behind you, but still giving you some privacy. You know he wishes to go back already.

'To be honest, I'm a bit frustrated, too,' you admit and your lip trembles. 'You were never supposed to mean this much to me. I was never supposed to fall so hard. But you know what? I did and that's the truth. That's what keeps me holding on, because it hurts like hell to let you go.'

Tears stream down your face. You don't stop them this time. You sniffle.

'It's hard without you,' you whisper. 'I feel lost. I don't know what to do. I wish you took me with you that day. Maybe then everything would be different.'

You fall silent. You think of what else to say, as you remember your last moments together. You saved him from merzost. But he died anyway. Still… at least you had that one last night. You smile at the memory.

'I don't know what will I do in the future,' you finally say. 'But I will find an antidote for jurda parem. And protect the Grisha. Because that's what you'd want. You'd want them to be safe and healthy. Mind you, you'd probably want to rip Fjerdans apart for what they're doing.'

You chuckle. Then, you kneel and press your hand to the sand. You focus on the ground beneath it for a moment, remembering how you held Kirigan in that spot three years ago. Your heart breaks, when you remember how he fought for his breath. But he still tried to hold on, wanting to at least tell you how he really feels.

'Until next time, Aleksander,' you whisper and stand up. You turn and return to Tolya. He fails to mask his relief that it's finally time to go. You almost roll your eyes, but you understand that most feel uneasy here. You don't. Not anymore.

'Done?' Tolya asks.

'Yes,' you confirm, mounting your horse. The Heartrender does the same.

'We can go back,' you say and you look at the place where the Darkling gave his last breath. 'I'm done here for today.'

A/N: Thank you for reading! Let me know your thoughts! Reblog, like and comment if you could. Every comment makes my day!

This can also be found on Archive of Our Own: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52696933/chapters/134689462

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